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helplesslypurple77 · 3 months ago

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Day 11-Missionary-Kurapika/Reader

Notes: ok so this one is also gonna be a bit shorter because I decided to add some honeycomb smocking to my Kurapika cosplay and i WAY overestimated how long that would take lol.

Anyway, enjoy!

.....

Kurapika follows his new client down the hallway of a large house, feet loud on the hardwood floor. Two sets of footsteps echo in the hallway, bouncing off the high ceilings and the paintings lining the walls. The house is gigantic, it had taken his new Boss ten minutes of relative silence to lead Kurapika through the maze of courtyards and hallways and dining rooms. Mostly empty rooms, occupied only with maids and butlers of various ranks. They eye Kurapika with curiosity as they pass by. There are no bodyguards on the premises.

Interesting, considering that was Kurapika’s new job. The Boss must be very sure of his own abilities. Mafia leaders frequently are. Still, this man seems to be different. More quietly threatening than the blustering threats and red faces of the men he was used to.

“You're aware of your duties?” The Boss says, tossing the words carelessly over his shoulder as he turns the corner into yet another hallway. The are white with pink and black stripes running up and down a startling in comparison to the beige and white ones Kurapika had just walked through.

“I will be your bodyguard, correct?” Kurapika responds, blinking his eyes to adjust to the violently pink and black walls. What a color change.

“Almost.” The man in front of him says, arms folded across his chest.

“I'm sorry?” Kurapika questions. The job posting definitely said that was what the opening was for. The lady at the job office had even commented on it, calling it a rare posting. “I was sure tha—”

“I intentionally misled you, and I apologize.” The Boss laughs, as a maid dressed in a baby pink maid uniform walks by, smiling brightly at the two of them. Kurapika blinks. All the other servants had been dressed in simple black pants and vests, regardless of gender. Two more maids walk by, one dressed in black and the other in white. They match the walls.

“Mislead me?” Kurapika questions, wondering if he's being led to his death.

“For safety reasons.” The Boss says, dodging yet another maid, this one running down the hall at breakneck speed, her bubbly pink maid dress bouncing brightly. She speeds past him and Kurapika gets a quick lungful of expensive perfume and baked goods. These maids are clearly very different from the ones in the rest of the house, what is going on here.

At the end of the hallway is a single door, painted pink, with designs of little black hearts scattered haphazardly all across it. The rest of the doors in the hallway were white. They come to a stop before it, and the boss tosses a small smile over his shoulder.

“Straighten your shoulders. You don't want to make a bad first impression.” He laughs, tapping quietly at the door. “Your job depends on it.”

Kurapika adjusts his posture, mind running at light speed to figure out what the hell is going on here. He dusts off the lapels of his black suit, hiding the chains that adorn his right hand. It's better to hide them.

The door opens a crack and a stern looking woman peeks out, surveying their small group.

“Hey Rosanne, the new bodyguard is here.” The boss says. Rosanne opens the door wider, eyeing him up and down through a small pair of thick rimmed glasses. She's probably middle aged, with dark black hair pulled into a tight bun. Her dress is different from the other maids. She must be a head maid of sorts.

“Do you really think this is wise?” Rosanne says, not even bothering to speak to him. Kurapika frowns slightly, standing still a few feet behind his Boss.

Kurapikas ears perk up. Who’s she? The boss just chuckles.

“Worth it to try, Rosanne.” He says, clapping Kurapika roughly on the shoulders. “I wish you luck.”

“Thank you sir,” Kurapika says, watching as the boss departs down the hallway, dodging around busy maid after busy maid. There are no male employees in this area of the building. Kurapika doesn't think he’s seen one since the butlers in the main entrance. Maybe that's a bad sign.

“This way.” Rosanne says, opening the door wider, tapping one black heeled foot. Kurapika steps through the door, trying not to wince as she slams it behind him.

“May I ask where we are going?” Kurapika asks as they start down another long hallway, the walls still black, white and baby pink stripped.

“No.” Rosanne says, marching down the hallway. Kurapika sighs as they turn the corner into yet another hallway. The few maids that pass Kurapika eye him curiously, whispering to each other as they pass by. Kurapika feels a bit like a exotic pet, being viewed curiously from all sides by curious maids. At least these ones aren't as obviously hostile as the woman marching in front of him.

Finally, Rosanne stops before another pink and black door. She leans forward, knocking twice.

“Young miss, I'm here with the new bodyguard.” She says, leaning her head against the door.

Kurapika stands a few feet behind her. Young miss. She must be speaking of the Boss’s wife. A small silence echoes in the hallway, and then someone speaks.

“Send them in, Rosanne.” A voice says from behind the door. Rosanne pulls away, laying a hand on the door. She eyes him up and down, her blue eyes piercing into the depths of his soul. And then she opens the door.

The first thing Kurapika sees is a large bed, shrouded almost completely by thin lace curtains that fall from the ceiling. Someone is sitting on the bed, one leg over the other on the edge white and pink duvet. The walls are baby pink and white, the vanity in one corner of the room is pink, and laden with pots and sprays of various shapes and sizes. Kurapika can see himself in the large floor length mirror opposite him. He stands out in the sea of pink and white, a lone figure dressed in black.

“Oh, a girl!” The figure says, and Kurapikas are drawn back to the figure on the bed as you jump down, sock covered feet hitting the white carpeted floor without a sound. The white floaty dress you wear dances around your thighs, just touching the skin a few inches above the top of your knee. You tilt your head, hair tumbling from your white headband around your shoulders.

“How new! Take your shoes off, ok?”

Kurapika shakes himself out of his pink induced daze and nods, slipping off his black dress shoes and stepping forward onto the white carpet. It's soft beneath his feet as he moves towards you, extending his hand when he arrives before you.

“I'm the new bodyguard your father—”

“Oh, you're a boy?” You question, taking his offered hand a firm shake. Your hands are warm. “And I know why you're here.”

“Oh,” Kurapika says, a bit off his game. You smile, a pretty face glowing under the soft white light of your overhead chandelier. You can't be the boss’s wife. You can't be much older than him.

“You can sit there.” You say, letting go of his hand and gesturing at a single pink chair, sitting awkwardly in the middle of your carpet. It's the same shade of pink as the vanity in the corner.

Kurapika shakes himself out of his confused pretty girl pink induced coma, and follows your instructions, sitting upright on the white lace cushion sitting on the chair. You smile, hopping back up on the edge of your bed with a smile.

“Well then,” You say, crossing one leg over the other. “Let's get to know each other.”

✶✶✶

Kurapika settles into his job quickly. It's pretty easy, all he has to do is accompany you wherever you go, occasionally stepping in to deal with weirdos who follow you home or assassins contracted by your fathers enemies. They're never really that powerful, and he's always able to dispatch them quickly enough. The maids are sweet to him, always ready to clean blood out of his suits or occasionally help him dispose of a body or even a living person. Even Rosanne doesn't regard him with outright disgust now, only a face of apathy.

But very soon, a problem is starting to become apparent. You. It's not like you're difficult to work with. Far from it actually. You're quite normal and sweet for the daughter of a major criminal, and always ready to give him days off or presents or thanks for his hard work. Actually, you're too nice. Too sweet. Too pretty. Kurapika might be developing a bit of a crush on you.

He noticed it one night when he had finished mopping up a batch of assassins that had targeted you. You had been so pleased you yanked him around, pulling him into a tight hug. You smelled of flowery perfume and sweet sugar candies, and Kurapika could feel the press of your boobs against his chest, and you whispered in his ear a thank you and his heart was beating too fast when you pulled away. He had assumed it was a one time thing. You were a pretty girl, it was only natural that he would be a little embarrassed if you hugged him like that.

And then he started noticing details about you.

Your smile, your laugh, the low cut tops of some of your dresses.

How kind and generous you were to your employees. How all your maids loved you, loved working you and often gushed in the employee only areas about how sweet and cute you were. How welcoming you were to him as a newcomer, how you often invited him to just hang out with you and watch some show, or worried for his safety after a fight.

So maybe he had a problem. It was not right to have a crush on someone you were employed to protect. Worse yet were the beats of lust he felt when he saw too much of the skin shown by those little nightgowns you favored. Kurapika shoves down the images that rise as he thinks about those stupid nightgowns, looking around the empty hallways surreptitiously for any maids that might have stayed behind.

But thankfully he was the only person in the long hallway. Kurapika sinks against the floor with a sigh, body folding down the striped walls with exhaustion. Thank god all the maids are away for a training session. Even Rosanne is gone, visiting family for her younger sister's wedding. You offered him a day off as well, but he had refused it, a bit too worried to leave you alone. Admittedly, he was a bit of a simp, but the worry he felt for you also doubled as part of his job, or so he could justify to himself.

Kurapika had done bodyguard work before. But never solo. He was the only bodyguard employed at the whole estate. When he had asked, you had told him that the main estate maids were just as good. And that your father was very powerful. Not like you needed to tell him. He knew. Everyone did.

He had asked you softly why he was employed there, and only a single bodyguard at that. You had informed him with a giggle that your father was a worrywart. That he worried about yucky men stealing his daughter away in the middle of the night. Kurapika couldn't blame him. He would steal you away if he could.

Kurapika stands up abruptly, smacking the stray thought out of his head with a sigh. What the actual hell kind of thoughts is he giving himself permission to repeat. Hurriedly, he sets off on his patrol of the empty hallway. There's nothing better to do anyway. You had shooed him from your room, your head tilted down and your ears red. You must have something important to do.

Kurapika reaches the end of the hallway, opening the door silently and looking up and down the white corridor that marks the rest of the estate from your quarters, and then starts back down the hallway towards the forbidden lacy depths of your room.

As he nears, he notices something odd. The door to your room is cracked open, a thin sliver of white light pouring over the hardwood flooring. Kurapika stills, straining his ears into the silence of the corridor. You always close your door. You like your privacy.

All he hears at first is silence. Not a sound leaks from your room and into the corridor with the light. Kurapika moves forward on silent feet.

Dread builds in his heart. There is a window in your room. What if someone had creeped into your bedroom through the small window and made off with you in your pink lacy nightgown and white bedroom slippers. Kurapika shudders. He cant feel any nen, but a skilled nen user could easily conceal their presence, not alerting him that anything was wrong at all. He avoids any noise, moving silently on his toes, concealing his presence as he steps towards the cracked door, avoiding the light leaking out of the room.

And then he hears it. A soft little sound that fills his heart with fear. A whimper.

Kurapika moves fast, opening the door with a slam, chains already flying around him. It takes him a minute to realize what's happening. You're safe, ok and lying on your bed, the lavender light of your mood lights slanting your body with lowlight. Your head rests on your pillow, your eyes closed. Your mouth parts in another whimper, and Kurapika frowns. You dont look like you're in pain. He scans your body carefully checking for injuries.

Your still in the nightgown he left you in, and Kurapika gulps as his eyes scan past the mounds of your boobs, down your abdomen to where the hem is rucked up above your hips, so that your hands can reach—

Kurapika coughs, finally realizing what the hell is going on as his cheeks flush with mortification, blood running between his cheeks and ears, and down south.

Your eyes open, and you sit up abruptly as you spot him. Your hand leaves its spot between your legs and you avoid his eyes, flushed a pretty pink. Your hair is mussed, tousled by the tossing and turning you had been doing on your pillows. You cross one leg over the other, shifting slightly. You aren't wearing any panties. Kurapika feels himself swell to life, rubbing painfully against the slacks of his work suite. He hopes you won't notice.

“I apologize name,” Kurapika gets out, clearing his throat hastily as he continues. “I heard—I mean I thought you were—I um…”

He trails off, and the room sinks into uncomfortable silence permeated by a slight tension. He turns away, staring resolutely at your cluttered vanity, praying his arousal will go down.

You cough.

“Kurapika?” You question tentatively, voice sounding a bit flustered. Kurapika jerks his head towards you again, fearing the worst.

“Yes?” He asks, perhaps a bit too eagerly. Your eyes are looking at him. Kurapika watches in horror as they sink down, taking in the probably obvious arousal pressing against his work pants, begging to be freed. He winces.

“I'm sorry.” He says. The silence seems to last forever, but it probably only lasts for a couple seconds before you speak.

“Do you know much about it?” You say tentatively. You're biting your lips, hands winding around in your lap as you look up at him. Kurapika shoves down the arousal that rises again as his eyes are drawn to your bitten lips.

“About what?” He asks, moving a bit closer. Not to close, but not ten feet away.

“Um,” You whisper, your cheeks flushing as you wave him closer. Kurapika is treated to a view of your cleavage as you lean forward, whispering the word as if it's forbidden. “Sex.”

“Oh,” Kurapika says, voice stilted. “A bit.”

He doesn't know much, but he probably knows more than you. You're a few months younger than him, but you're much more sheltered than he ever was. But then again, Kurapika was always more focussed on his revenge to bother with girls or sex or anything of the like.

You wind a finger in your hair, cheeks flush prettily. Kurapika knows his own cheeks are flushed as well, not to mention the obvious sign of arousal that just refuses to go down.

“Can you teach me?” You ask, voice trembling slightly. Kurapika chokes.

“Teach you?” He asks, once the coughing fit finally subsides. You nod, eyes wide and curious, hands knotted in your lap.

“Yeah,” You whisper, and Kurapika watches in shock as your hand reaches out, pressing gently against the bulge in his pants. A groan gets out before he can muffle it, as the heat and pressure of your hand shoots a blinding line of pleasure up his spine and into his brain. Kurapika grips your delicate wrist, pulling your dealy hand off of his growing bulge. You look up at him, all nervous smiles and curious eyes.

“Did that not feel good,” You mutter, hand trembling a bit in his fingers. Kurapika shakes his head.

“No, it did.” He groans, resisting the temptation to put your hand right back where it belonged. ‘But we can't do this.”

You look up at him, a small line appearing between your eyebrows.

“Why?” You ask, a small hint of insecurity in your tone of voice. “Do you not want me?”

“No,” Kurapika says, perhaps a bit too quickly. How could he not want you? Wasn't it obvious, in his town, in his eyes, in his arousal. Oh god he wanted you so bad, and here you were practically offering yourself to him. But, he couldn't.

“Your dad—” He starts, trying to protest. You giggle.

“Daddy doesn't have to know.” You whisper, the hand that isn't clasped in his own coming up to smooth over the lapels of his suite. You look confident, but the trembling in your fingers and the nervous darting of your eyes betrays you, your breath is heavy when you speak again. “The maids are all gone. We're all alone. Please?”

Kurapika takes a deep breath. Breaths in the flowers of your perfume and the musky underbreath of your arousal. And he gives in.

“Fine,” He mutters, hand coming up to gently caress your flushed face. You smile, pressing your cheek into his hand. He almost melts at the adorable action. “I'm going to kiss you. Alright?”

You nod, leaning up into him. Kurapika leans down slowly, giving you time to move away if you want to. He half expects you to move, to tell him to leave. He half expects to wake up alone on his bed. Instead you close your eyes.

Your lips are soft, moisturized every night with exfoliants and pasts that Kurapika doesn't understand. But they're soft, and your body curves into his as you lean up, letting a little breath escape your mouth.

You taste like candy. How is that possible? Kurapika doesn't know, and he isn't going to pull away enough to ask. Your lips move against his, moving with the practice of someone who knows how to kiss. Kurapika moves with you, slowly and carefully winding a hand around the back of your neck. It tangles in your tousled hair, and Kurapika touches you as if your glass, as if you might break. You whimper against him, your own hands winding around his waist. Kurapika bites back a whimper. How embarrassing. He's coming undone at the seams already, just from your touch.

You fall back, your back hitting the comforter with a soft thump. Kurapika falls with you, teeth clanking against yours at the unexpected move. You pull back with a giggle.

“You're a good teacher,” You smile, hands tugging gently at his suit jacket. Kurapika takes it off, obeying your wandering fingers.

“Really?” He questions, discarding his jacket somewhere on the floor of your bedroom. You nod, smiling gently against the white of your bedspread. You look like an angel.

“Uh huh,” You murmur, hands tugging at the hem of your nightgown, pulling it higher and higher. “So sweet, so handsome.”

Kurapika flushes, dick twitching at the praise. His eyes follow your hands, pulling and tugging the teasing hem of your nightgown. He knows you aren't wearing panties. He gulps, propped up over you on his hands and knees, suit jacket discarded on the floor. His dick is painful against his pants. You seem to notice, your manicured hand coming down to trace the bulge cupped in his pants. Kurapika groans, controlling his arousal at the touch of your hand. You smile

“It looks all squished in there,” You say, your eyes curved in hazy mirth. “Doesn't it hurt?”

Your fingers gently stroke him over the fabric, and Kurapika desperately resists the urge to cum.

“Yes,” He admits, biting his lips against the moans. Your hands trace the outline, and Kurapika almost sobs in relief as you undo the zipper, giving him some relief.

“Wait,” Kurapika groans. You freeze, looking concerned and uncertain. Kurapika hurries to continue. He never wants you to feel uncertain. “Do you have any Condoms?”

You nod, scooting out from underneath him and towards the end of the bed. Kurapika gets treated to a flash of your bare ass as you hop off the bed, sauntering over to your vanity and digging through the drawer. Kurapika takes the opportunity to shed the rest of his clothes, leaving him naked besides for his boxers. You smile, holding up an unopened box of condoms victoriously.

“Rosanne gave them to me,” You explain, shrugging your shoulders. “I don't know why.”

Kurapika thinks Rosanne might know more than she's letting on. He sighs. Is he that much of an open book or is she just insane. He thinks it is probably the latter.

“You're very strong,” You say. Kurapika looks up, standing a few feet away from you. You're looking at him, eyes taking in his body. He's thin, lith, not as built as some people but not all bones. You look curious, a box of condoms still clutched in your hand. Kurapika can barely think enough to be self conscious.

You tear open the box, reaching inside to pull out a single foil wrapped package.

“Is this good?” You ask, discarding the rest of the box on your bedside table carelessly. It joins a mostly empty yerba mate can and some other nicknacks, looking wildly out of place.

“Yes, this is fine.” kurapika says, taking the foil wrapped package out of your palm. You smile, body swaying distracting as you turn towards the bed.

“You put it on,” You say, and Kurapika watches as you pull your nightgown over your head. The lace drags over your skin, pulling up to reveal your pussy, your stomach, your breasts. Kurapika bites back a groan, dick twitches in his underwear.

When he finishes putting on the condom you're already on the bed. Your legs are propped up, your head resting on your pillows, surrounded with a halo of hair. You look like a princess. You are a princess.

“Are you ready?” Kurapika asks. His hands tremble slights as he pulls your legs wide, lining himself up with your drooling pussy. He can feel sweat dripping down his back, blond hair dripping over his eyeline. You're a hazy mess beneath him, your body on full display for his viewing pleasure.

“Yes,” You nod, body a tense line on the bed.

As Kurapika slides into your body he knows he won't last long. And by the way your back arches, the way the walls of your pussy flutter against him, you won't either.

Your walls are so warm, contracting around him as you whimper, back arching off of the bed. Kurapika groans, resisting the urge to thrust deep into you, letting you adjust slowly to the unusual intrusion.

When he finally bottoms out deep inside you Kurapika has to desperately resist the urge to whimper. Your body is so warm, your face full of pleasure as you gaze up at him, pretty pink lips parted in a moan.

“Can I move?” Kurapika grits out, trying to remain controlled and deliberate. You nod, and immediately your back arches as Kurapika pulls out, and then thrusts deep inside you. He won't last.

The pace he sets is slow, steady, more focussed on hitting the right spots than speed. And it seems to work, your hands scrabbling at anything, his shoulders, his arms, the fabric of your bed.

Your hand settles on his shoulders, nails digging into his back. Kurapika pretends the pain doesn't turn him on a bit.

“Gonna cum!” You whimper, back arching against him as he thrusts deep. Kurapika groans, hand winding down to find your clit. He's gonna lose it.

“Me too.” He groans, hand winding between your bodies. He's so close. He needs to tumble off with him.

The reaction when he finds your clit is immediate. Your body tenses, your walls clenching down against him, and Kurapika falls.

“Cumming!” You moan, and Kurapika cums with you, hiding his grunts and moans in the heavenly sounds that exit your mouth. He leans forward as the pleasure courses through him, swallowing your moans greedily into his own mouth, savoring them for later.

He doesn't know what's going to become of this, if anything at all.

But for the moment, Kurapika finds comfort in you, as the two of you tumble off the cliff or arousal and into the sea of content.

....

Endnotes: I wrote this in one night through a blinding headache so i hope you enjoy it!!!

#mariannacrxss #helplesslypurple77kinktober #hunter x hunter #hxh smut #kurapika x reader #kurapika #kurapika kurta

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spooky-bunnys · 10 months ago

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Hello could I request sm with (black butler) Sebastian x male reader that acts like morticia adams? I really enjoyed the one you did with bonten (prob misspelled that)

Title: Other Half

Fandom: Black Butler

Pairing: Sebastian x Addams Male Reader

Warnings: death of parents, AGNSTY, talks of death

(Name) hummed and brushed his long (H/C) hair behind his ear. Fixing his glasses as he cut off another rose bud. Placing the stem in the beaker in front of him. His long (H/C) furred tail swishing behind him slowly.

The Undertaker walked in and smiled at the sight. "Ah~ how's my precious son today?" (Name)'s cat ear twitched and he looked behind him. As the (height) male turned yellow/green eyes meet gray hair. "Oh? Hello Undertaker. I'm just trimming some flowers." (Name) and Undertaker shared a matching grin.

Before either could say anything else the door to the palor opened. Cause (Name) to turn towards the opened door. "Hello Phantomhive." Ciel froze upon seeing the new figure. Sebastian behind his master could only stare.

The Undertaker laughed loudly. Making (Name) laugh as well. But neither guest moved. Both for different reasons. While Ciel was confused on the new person, Sebastian was entranced by the beauty that was doubled over laughing a in his opinion beautiful laugh.

Ciel shifted and glared towards the Undertaker. "Undertaker who is this?!" Ciel demanded pointing at the still laughing male. The Undertaker stood up and pulled (Name) to be in front of the male and his butler. "Who this? This is my adopted son (Name)!" (Name) smiled and bowed down handing Ciel a rose stem.

Ciel just stared with a raised brow. "Sebastian." Sebastian lightly took the stem his hands brushing ever so lightly against (Name)'s. The spark between the two made them jump. (Name)'s ears and tails raised in surprise. Sebastian smiled bowing and held a hand out. "I'm Sebastian. Pleased to meet you (Name)~" (Name) turned to his dad figure and even he looked confused.

Before (Name) could shake his hand, the Undertaker picked his son up and placed him on the other side of the shop. "No way demon! You're kind has caused enough issues with my precious son!" (Name) just smiled and went to the counter and started cutting the roses again.

Ciel watched in confusion. "Will someone explain what is going on?!" The Undertaker stood directly in Sebastian's sight of the other male. Sebastian chuckled. "It seems like my other half is a Reaper and Cat Demon Hybrid. The specific hybrid my kind has been hunting down for almost two centuries."

Ciel stared at the humming male in somewhat awe. "Half reaper and half demon?" The Undertaker tensed. "(Name) was the product of a rare mate pair. Reaper and Demon. When both species found out there was issues. Especially since Reapers and Demon don't get along. They blamed the other species for the birth of him."

Ciel felt something he hadn't felt in what seemed like a life time. "What of his parents?" Sebastian tensed at the question. "Killed. Right in front of him. He was 7 in human years." Pity. Ciel felt pity towards the (H/C) male. "If I hadn't been nearby, he would've been killed as well. I retired when I found him. Knowing raising and protecting him will take everything I have."

Ciel nodded and spared a look at his frozen butler. Who seemed to still be staring at the other male. Ciel sighed and pull Sebastian's tail coat. "Lets go you cat obsessed moron. We have a mission to complete else where."

Sebastian barely budged. Still staring at the male that had finished his "gardening". He turned and flashed Sebastian a smile. When Sebastian saw the cat fangs he knew, he just knew. He'd never be the same.

#male reader #x male reader #black butler x male reader #sebastian michaelis x male reader #black butler #sebastian michaelis #sebastian x male reader

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robin-the-enby · 1 year ago

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Black butler Ciel with a older sister who rather spend more time reading, writing, spend time in her imagination, or her own self interests than run the company. She has her own business of running a successful book series.

Pairing: Ciel Phantomhive x older sister!reader Warnings: mentions of past trauma (not descriptive) A/N: Thank you very much for the ask and, as usual, I'm so sorry for the delay. If you don't mind, I decided to write this as headcanons. Also, the relationship between Ciel and the reader is strictly platonic. I have decided that I will not write romantic Ciel works anymore, because he's a child. And while I did have a crush on him when we were the same age, I have moved on and it would be highly inappropriate, I believe.

I think it's safe to say that you are very important to Ciel. You are his last living relative after all.

It doesn't matter if you're close or not. I don't think Ciel would appear to want to be close to anyone, even a relative. But that isn't really the case.

Now, he's definitely not clingy. He's self-sufficient, maybe a little too much. He definitelly doesn't need to rely on you.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't like to spend time with you. On the contrary. And since you are the quiet type, it makes spending time together much more comfortable for him.

He would be the type of person to do his own thing and let you do your own, just...in the same space. He could be sorting paperwork in his office, but you would be there as well, just a few meters away from him, scribbling down in a notebook on drawing in your sketchbook.

It's comfortable, it's quiet, and it means the world to him. If he looks past the age difference (and that little voice that tells him that maybe your roles should be exchanged), he almost feels normal. And that type of peace is very rare in his life, so he takes any and every chance to spend time with you like this.

It was very strange to him though, mostly at first, when he returned to the mansion. The way you are so different. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that you have no interest in the family company, or that you rather spend time in your own head than in th real world.

He does get the appeal of that, it's just that he thinks it's...foolish. He is a logical person, who always thinks ahead, to rule out any possibility of others taking advantage of him again. If he submitted to the luxury of running away from the past that still haunts him, he would achieve nothing.

But the more time he spends with you and the more he integrates himself back into the regular world (as regular as it can be for him at least), he sees that you're many things, but not foolish. Yes, you're a dreamer, perhaps a bit naive, but not stupid.

In the end, he prouds himself to be your brother. You have a great imagination and sometimes you help him more than you could imagine. If he has a case to solve, you help give him an outside look into things from a perspective he could never even imagine.

He appreciates your art as well. It would depend on your style and whether or not you were spared the torture he went through to determine how much, but he definitely appreciates it and thinks it's beautiful. If your style is a form of self presentation, translation of your shared traumas and deepest feelings, he might like it just a smidge more.

When you present the idea of publishing your own book, he is definitely on board. He likes to read your stories anyway, he can't see why others wouldn't enjoy it. He would definitely help you find the best publisher and arrange the best deal for you (with a little help from Sebastian, if needed).

When your book becomes a hit in London and the readers as well as critics start asking for a sequel, he feels proud. Proud of himself, for helping you make your dream come true, but mostly proud of you. For not conforming to expectations of others, who would assume you'd take over the Phantomhive company, but instead following your dreams and working hard to make them come true. It is that kind of strength he really admires. But of course, he knows how the world works and so he thinks his help was neccesary (and would continue to be in the future).

In the end, you have sort of a symbiotic relationship. Whenever you need anything for your work, Ciel gets it for you. Art supplies, sketchbooks, he can get you anything and you best believe it'll be in the best quality as well. He also helps you make deals with potential publishers or anyone who is interested in your work, making sure no one tries to scam you and that you get the most benefits from your labour.

In return, he asks for nothing. You already give him everything he needs from you. Your company. He gladly takes on the task of managing the family business, if it means that you can still sit by him in his study, scribbling away, as if nothing in the world had ever gone wrong.

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #black butler headcanons #headcanons #ciel phantomhive #ciel phantomhive headcanons #ciel phantomhive x y/n #ciel phantomhive x reader #black butler ciel #sister reader #older sister reader #fluff #black butler fluff

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sleepingdeath-light · 2 years ago

Text

between the coffins ; 18+

requested by ; anonymous (31/10/21)

word count ; 952

content ; oral sex (fem receiving), semi-public sex acts, nearly getting caught

fandom ; black butler

pairing ; undertaker x female!reader

read also on ; ao3

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

Privacy was rare to come by when your lover was as in demand as he was — always being called away by a detective or a grieving relative or that pint sized earl or, well, the list goes on. It seemed you just never had a moment to yourselves and if it had gone on any longer you were sure you’d have just taken him in the shop, irrespective of whoever else was there so long as you got the relief you so desperately craved.

Though, thankfully, you didn’t end up needing to resort to such desperate measures.

Today had been the most quiet day you’d had in months at the parlour — not a single soul, human or otherwise, had even come by your doors since you’d flipped the sign on the front door to “open”, aside from one particularly lost traveller who was looking for a completely different establishment. It was almost as if death had taken a day off; like the world beyond your doors had stuttered to a stop, or the rapture had occurred and you two were the sole survivors left behind.

After four long hours of just sitting and waiting, eyes on the door and breath held in anticipation, your boyfriend finally spoke up and propositioned you. Urging you to hike your skirts up to your waist and sit on one of the unoccupied coffins in the most covered side-area of the main parlour — his grin rife with a mischief and lust that you had no intention of denying. So, naturally, you did exactly what he suggested, uncaringly tossing your shoes and stockings and drawers to one side and lifting yourself onto the cold, wooden surface — and grinning in antsy anticipation when he knelt between your legs and used his cold, large hands to spread your thighs wide apart.

You were finally going to get what you wanted, and you couldn’t fucking wait.

————

Your boyfriend was always happy to go down on you, to the extent that he seemed to get off on it alone. And he was damn good at it, playing your body with the same skill a professional musician would use to work their instrument: his long tongue traced the length of your slit, gathering your slick on the tip before he paused and swallowed and groaned before doing it all over again; occasionally his lips would wrap around your swollen clit and he’d suck on the sensitive bud, causing you to sigh and keen before he laughed and returned his focus elsewhere; his talented tongue would flit between your gushing hole and your sensitive clit — thrusting and swirling inside of you and circling and drawing figure eights onto your most sensitive part.

Every flick of his tongue and press of his lips against your needy pussy sent new waves of burning pleasure flowing through your veins and collecting at your core. The coil within you tightening as you were guided intentionally towards your release with a treatment that had your head spinning and your fingers entangling themselves in his long, grey hair. Twirling, twisting, pulling and tugging him forwards so he was as close as can be — so you could feel every twitch of his lips, every breath that escaped him against the surface of your cunt as he continued to eat you out with all the ferocity of a starved man presented with a feast. With all the reverence of a follower in prayer.

It wasn’t long before he had you moaning his name in a prayer of your own. Murmuring the syllables in the shape of a gasp and punctuating them with pleas and praise that morphed into moans and groans — the sort that came strongly from your core and had your head falling backwards until it hit the back wall of the parlour (or was it another coffin?). That had your grip on his hair tightening as you ground and bucked your hips into his mouth, arching your back as your pleasure began to mount.

Yes. Yes. So close, so tantalisingly close. Yes!

And then three worlds collided. Undertaker suddenly reached up, bending you damn near in half in the process, and slammed a hand over your mouth, silencing you as he stared at you through his bangs — yellow-green eyes glinting with mischief and warning. The bell above your front door clinked merrily, announcing a new guest as a familiar voice called out for your boyfriend, demanding his presence; the earl. You fell over the edge of climax and squirted your release so hard that you coated your boyfriend’s chin and your thighs in your juices.

Vision spinning and blotting with a disorienting white that bled when tears of overstimulation filled your eyes. Heart pounding violently against your rib cage, the sound deafeningly loud as it echoed in your ears, overpowering the demands of your company. Your limbs trembling and your body collapsing forwards as it all became too much and you were only held upright by the sheer strength of your lover, who skilfully guided you through your high as you mounted the peak and gradually came down — licking you just below your sensitive spot until your eyes focused again and he was sure you were okay to handle yourself.

Then, and only then, did he lick himself clean and wipe whatever he couldn’t get on the oversized sleeve of his coat. Then, and only then, did he poke his head out of your hidden nook and address your guests with his trademark grin and unnervingly giggly disposition.

Acting like nothing had happened whilst you were left a panting, sweating, fucked-out mess forced to bite down on your fist to keep quiet. What an ass — he‘s lucky you loved him…

#sleepingdeath #female reader #female reader smut #smut #smut fic #minors dni #minors fuck off #black butler smut #black butler x reader #kuroshitsuji x reader #kuroshitsuji smut #undertaker x reader #black butler undertaker x reader #kuroshitsuji undertaker x reader #undertaker smut

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kaigarax · 7 months ago

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Sometimes, All I Think About Is You

Satoru Gojo x Reader

Quote: "Openly fall in love."

First Encounters

The first time Satoru Gojo sees you is when the two of you are just kids. He’s a boy just about to attend Eton Academy and you’re a young girl who’s just begun to learn the difference between men and women.

Satoru’s parents, citing his lack of friends (his only friend being the young stable boy around his age) and hoping to acquaint him with some ‘proper’ company. Whatever that’s supposed to mean. So, being the ever doting parents that the Gojo’s claim to be they set up a playdate with the family of the viscounts that live close by.

A family of six, if Satoru isn’t mistaken.

The Viscount and his wife, two twin boys around his age and two girls about five and seven years younger respectively.

Satoru finds your older brothers awfully boring. One of them, Satoru thinks, certainly has to be the dumbest person he’s ever met and the other is the most aloof. Such a pair that Satoru is almost a little worried about what might happen next to the Viscount's family in the future and he rarely ever cares about others.

Satoru doesn’t try very hard to get along with the two boys. He lets them show him around briefly, he even plays a couple of games of croquet before disappearing into the manner with the excuse of looking for the bathroom. With any luck, the two of them might forget about him long enough for the remainder of this horrible playdate to end and he can finally leave.

Truth be told, Satoru has always been a little different from the other people around him. Always seen the world a little differently from everyone else. It was almost as if everyone else stumbled around in a world of black and white while he was the only one that could see in colour. The only person who ever came close to understanding him was Suguru Geto, the stable boy and son of his family’s butler. And while it was frowned upon to make friends with the ‘help’ it would be the first time that Satoru could just be… himself.

The young boy could barely even find it within himself to feel bad as he abandoned your twin brother to wander the house. Sure, he’d been given a tour earlier but that had mostly been a quick look around. Satoru hadn’t gotten the chance to actually look at things in the detail that he wanted to.

His eyes wandered from the old curtains, which oddly reminded Satoru of his mother’s dresses, to the long line of photos left to hang up on the wall. Family portraits, Satoru thinks. All the people look vaguely familiar to one another with a familiar resemblance in the eyes and smiles. Satoru’s own family had something similar though the paintings are ones of the patriarch rather than of the entire family.

“It took the painter three weeks to paint that one.” You say.

Satoru isn’t surprised, he had heard you come in, but he feigns surprise. Suguru had told him that it was better to pretend to act normal around other people if he wanted them to like him. He had always found that annoying and pretentious but he would do what he had to in polite society. Especially if it meant he wouldn’t have to hear another lecture from his parents.

You look to be a couple years younger than Satoru as he turns to look at you. Five years give or take one or two in either direction. You’re a small thing, well small compared to him. You’re draped in a cool summer dress while Satoru personally thinks that spring is much too early. There also happens to be pins attached at the edges of the dress reminding him of his own fitting session that he would have to attend later on in the week.

Satoru hates attending fitting sessions. Doesn't see why he always needs to be wearing clothes that fit perfectly, especially because he seems to need to head there at least once every two months now that he’s begun growing. He doesn’t see why he can’t just wear clothes that are a little too big or too small for a little while like Suguru.

You take a step towards him, your eyes never lingering too long on him. Satoru’s always being scolded by his mother for staring at one thing for too long or not keeping eye contact long enough but you seem to have mastered the timing of the gaze perfectly. It’s both polite and respectful.

It absolutely infuriates Satoru.

You regard him with a calm expression that has him forgetting that you’re the younger of the two.

“I see you’ve abandoned the company of my brother.” You state.

Satoru points his nose up, “what of it?”

“It was merely an observation. I meant no harm.”

He then scrunches his face up as he leans down to stare at you. He has to lean down quite far considering you’re short. Though, admittedly you are five years younger than him and he’s tall for his age.

He notices that you’re holding a book behind your back fiddling around the edges of the page self consciously. Satoru had never been a big fan of reading, especially when he was around your age. He’d rather be outside play-wrestling with Suguru or doing some other physical activity or sport. He’d always been very good at physical things.

Admittedly, Satoru thinks you're pretty. Much better looking than your two brothers. So much so that he briefly wonders if the three of you are even related in the first place. If not for the same shape of the eyes, Satoru would have been certain that you were merely children that lived in the same house instead of siblings.

He still thinks that might be the case.

You’ll probably be pretty when you grow up. Perhaps not nearly as pretty as his mother but he’s certain you’ll be… charming? Well, at the very least you won’t be ugly. Especially if you end up taking after your mother. Satoru never really cared much for how pretty other people are but he has always considered himself a good judge.

Finally, Satoru pulls away, “you’re annoying.”

“If you’re attempting to insult me you’re going to have to try a little harder,” you say, a teasing smile playing at the corners of your lips, “I have two older brothers.”

“And you’re weird.” Huffed Satoru.

Your calm smile turns from calm to amused, “so are you.” Your lips move up more and your eyes seem to linger for just a moment longer on Satoru’s own.

Satoru’s jaw is dropped before he can even realise that it has. Not only is it the first time someone has so brazenly insulted him (not including Suguru) but it’s both the first time a woman (girl) has insulted him and someone younger than him has dared to treat him as an equal. Even most adults didn’t have the guts to bring themselves up to Satoru’s level unless they too stood in the same position as his parents.

But you.

Annoying and weird you are standing there in front of him as if you’re friends joking about a funny joke you just told. Perhaps you do think it’s a joke - which would only further prove to Satoru that you’re weird.

An older woman (likely your Nurse) runs into the room, her expression worried. She quickly bows to Satoru, “sorry, My Lord. The little missy here seems to have a mind of her own most of the time.” She turns to you with a harsh look, “did you say anything to insult the young Lord?”

Satoru expects you to roll your eyes or look away like any normal child would do. Thought maybe you might’ve stomped away angrily or made a face at him when your Nurse wasn’t looking.

Instead, your eyes soften and you smile fondly at your nurse, “I wasn’t on my best behaviour,” you calmly admitted.

Your Nurse sighs as she continues to reprimand you.

Satoru, on the other hand, is left a little shocked and speechless. He isn’t quite sure what happened but the wheels in his hand do begin turning and his heart starts to beat a little faster. He wonders if you can see the colours too.

---

A Conversation

Satoru Gojo comes to the conclusion that, after a while of getting to know you, yes you do see colours just not in the same way that he does. Your skills lie not in a brilliant way to dissect numbers nor demonstrate the ability to memorize new information or pick up skills at the drop of a hat like how he can but there’s nothing about you that can be considered ordinary either.

He heads over to your house at least once a week for the next two years. Not because he wants to, of course, but because his parents have stopped with the lectures about not hanging out with Suguru when he gives into their wishes and spends time at your house. And, sure, your older brother is awfully boring and dull but it gives him the chance to get to know you better. The strangely entertaining and endearing little girl who’s intelligence rivals his own.

It sucks that you don’t actually ever linger around when Satoru is there. You obediently listen to your brothers when they ask you to head elsewhere and you rarely ever spare Satoru a second glance unless Satoru goes out to seek you himself; and even you refuse to spend time with him unless he’s entertaining your brothers.

He notices that you’re an avid reader, always holding a new text in your hand every week. Satoru just knows that his parents wish that they had a child like you. So obedient to your elders and caretakers. So well mannered and thoughtful plus you seem intelligent and well read. He bets that you would have been named heir over your two older brothers if you too had been born a man.

You’re so mature for your age and perhaps that is what Satoru likes about you best.

He doesn’t have to go out of his way to entertain you or have to explain himself when he says something strange or different.

It simply just is.

It takes Satoru exactly two years to figure out why exactly he likes you so much. To come to all those conclusions above and finally get close enough to you that the two of you can consider one another as friends. It’s unfortunate that by then his visits stop as he begins school at Eton’s Academy for Boys. Higher education where any worth a damn in high society attends.

It sucks that he won’t be able to see you much anymore but what can Satoru do against the adamant wishes of his parents?

At least Suguru will be attending with him.

Suguru isn’t you but he’s one of the only people that actually understand him so it won’t be that bad.

You make his heart race and his stomach feel all fuzzy.

But it isn’t until several years later, when you’re a debutant freshly minted and prepared for your first season, that Satoru realises why.

It had been years since he’d last seen you.

Obviously, he knew that you were going to change. People always changed, both physically and mentally, but he just wasn’t ready for how different you looked. Hadn’t been as prepared for the change as he thought he was.

He’d always known that you would grow up to be pretty but this pretty? It wasn’t what he had been expecting.

Everyone’s eyes are drawn to you.

He knows that you must be the diamond of the season. It would simply be a crime not to. In fact, Satoru himself would march right up to the Queen himself and demand an explanation as to why you were not named the diamond.

Satoru floats through conversations, half of his attention on the conversation at hand and the other half wishing he was speaking to you. You always know the right thing to say to make him smile and he never has to bend over backwards trying to charm you. He knows you already like him exactly as he is. Flaws and all.

It’s unfortunate that his conversation with you ends almost as quickly as it begins.

You’re quickly swept away by some other gentlemen - your dance card full of potential suitors.

It annoys Satoru greatly though he isn’t quite sure why. Obviously, Satoru knows that he enjoys your company and he likes being around you so he’s angry that other people are taking your attention… right? That’s the reason. What else could it be?

Satoru’s thoughts were interrupted with a sharp elbow to his side as he exclaimed quietly, “hey!”

“You were pouting.” Suguru says.

“Was not.”

“Oh, you definitely were.”

Satoru grumbles to himself, annoyed.

Suguru chuckles quietly in response.

“What do you think of (Y/n)?” Satoru asked suddenly.

Suguru ponders briefly, “she’s a little like you.”

“Really?” Satoru raises a brow curiously, “I personally thought she was more like you.”

“How so?”

“She’s good at understanding other people and she cares an awful lot more about what other people think about her than she lets on.”

Suguru hums thoughtfully, “everyone cares about what everyone thinks.”

“I don’t.”

“That’s because you’re weird.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true,” Suguru gives Satoru a closed eye smile, “you’re weird but not super weird. A little weird.”

Satoru rolls his eyes, “like that’s so much better.”

“Let me put it this way,” Suguru explains, “you don’t care about what everyone thinks but you care about the thoughts of people that are important to you.”

“Isn’t that how everyone should think.”

“Oh, most certainly.”

Satoru knows that Suguru is mostly just entertaining him at this point. His words always have some hidden meaning to them (that Satoru is usually too lazy to dissect) but there are points when he simply says something to entertain Satoru. Suguru has always been thoughtful like that; it’s one of the reasons why Satoru has always liked him so much.

He thinks that that might be why he likes you too.

You make his heart race and his stomach feel all fuzzy.

But it isn’t until several years later, when you’re a debutant freshly minted and prepared for your first season, that Satoru realises why.

---

The Moment

Satoru is surprised when he sees you sitting by yourself early one spring morning.

Staring off into the distance in the middle of a hill that floats down into a lake.

Fluffs of dandelion seeds float around haphazardly in the air. Almost like snowflakes amidst the cool spring air. The melodic chirping of birds fills the air, though Satoru personally has never been a fan. Many of his classmates had written poems about the birds before. Talking about flight and freedom alongside a musicality that comes so naturally to them compared to humans.

It’s unusual for women, especially young girls who are in search of a husband, to head outside by themselves where any man could just stumble upon them without a chaperone. Satoru bets that you had woken up bright and early just so that you might be able to have a moment alone.

He almost feels a little bad to intrude on your moment alone.

He imagines you don’t get very many.

But he approaches you nonetheless. His heart tugs him towards you much like how a child pulls their parents down the aisles of a candy store. Eager and excited.

“(Y/n)~” Satoru says your name sweetly, liking the way it flows off of his tongue so easily. Thinks that it tastes so much better than some of the sweetest things he’s whispered to others.

You don’t bother turning to look at him as you would have done if this had taken place in the presence of others, “My Lord.”

“Satoru.”

“You really do love saying your name,” you tease, as he takes a seat beside you. He makes a face as the bottom of his pants get wet from the damp grass upon contact. His usual reaction would have been to jump up and scowl. He usually hates any uncomfortable feeling and does anything he can to avoid any such sensations but forces himself to bear with it as your warm shoulder brushes against his own. Well the sleeve of your dress brushes up against the dress-shirt but this is close enough for him. Besides, his pants are already wet now so he can bear with it for a little longer.

The two of you stare off into the distance, staring at the lake.

Satoru notices that you’re still in your nightgown. It’s light and flowy, similar to the clothes you used to wear when you were young. Hot stuffy dresses are what’s most popular now in women’s fashion and being a proper lady of good origins you do your diligence in following the fashion trends. Strangely though, the thought of your subtle acts of rebellion bring a smile to his face. It’s so subtle and detached from the main parts of society yet so much louder than you’ll ever realise.

He bets that your mother would be furious if she found that you were outside and alone with an unmarried man. Furious if you came back with the bottom of your dress soaked from the morning dew and rain.

You probably don’t care though.

Your attention is much better spent on the lake in front of you. (Satoru personally thinks that your attention would be even better spent on him.)

He doesn’t bother to look at the lake he’s already seen hundreds of times in his life.

This is where he and Suguru used to play pirates. Where he’d first been tossed into the lake when the two of them were horsing around and where he had crawled out of angrily. Where he’d caught his first frog and made his first (mud) painting.

This was the lake of his childhood that he loved oh so dearly.

But right now, he found that he’d rather look at you.

The baby fat you had on your cheeks back before he had left for Eton is gone. It makes you look more mature. Less like the girl that made fun of him and more into the woman that would send light teases his way. Makes you seem less like the girl who always carried around picture books and into a young woman that reads intellectual novels that dive into the human.

He’s a little sad. He had quite a fondness for the young girl that managed to make him mad with the single raise of an eyebrow. It’s almost like the loss of someone important to him. Someone he didn’t know that he would miss as much and a version of you that he would never get to say goodbye to.

But, he finds that he has a fondness for the you that’s sitting beside him now.

He wouldn’t go as far as saying that he likes this version more than the young child you but he would admit that this version was much more… exciting to be around. Almost like a mystery that he was working to solve.

A smile pulls at his lips when he notices a book in your lap.

“What’re you reading?” Satoru asks, pointing to the book in your lap.

You brush the cover of the book gently, “Pride and Prejudice.”

“Suguru read that book once.”

“Have you?”

“No. Besides, Suguru said it was just a boring romance novel for women anyways. Says nothing that we don’t already know.”

You smile as you nudge him playfully, “do you let Lord Suguru’s opinions dictate all of your own decisions, My Lord?”

“No,” Satoru pouts, “but I’ve never liked reading much anyways. It’s easier to let him do the reading first. He knows what I do and don’t like. Besides, I don’t want to waste my time reading something I wouldn’t even like.”

Finally, you turn to look at him. To the untrained eye it would be a look of indifference. But to Satoru, your self proclaimed childhood best friend, your expression is one of amusement. From the way your eyes crinkle in the corners slightly to how you sit up more straight ever so slightly and the subtle twitch of your lips. Plus, the most obvious and dead give away to anything, your eyes. They look at him, lingering on his face for a moment longer than they linger on anyone else's as you respond with a soft, “and what do you like to read, My Lord?”

“Comedies usually.”

“Like?”

“Twelfth Night.”

You raise a brow delicately, “Shakesphere?”

Satoru places a hand on his chest, feigning offence, “are you implying that you think I wouldn’t like the works of one of the greatest writers and minds of our time?”

“Oh, I’d never, my Lord,” you eyes crinkle in the corners, “I was simply surprised. Most men I speak with prefer something more contemporary like Wordsworth or perhaps something practical and sensible like a book on agriculture or architecture. They consider things like Shakesphere to be mere entertainment.”

“So then are you implying that you think I have the taste of a woman?”

“And who would you consider yourself akin to then, my Lord? Duke Ceasiro?”

Satoru makes a face.

You chuckle softly in response, “you must admit, the two of you share a certain resemblance.”

“I am insulted on every level, (Y/n).”

“I’m sure you are.”

“I am!” Satoru exclaims, waving his arms above his head, “I am most like the honourable Sebastian.”

“Ah yes, Viola’s twin brother.”

Satoru nods.

“Well, he’s certainly an opportunist.”

“Would you not marry a beautiful woman that you just met and is seemingly in love with you?”

You hum softly as you ponder on the idea.

Satoru remembers how he had dragged Suguru to the play house that day. He had originally gone because there was a particular woman that he wanted to promenade with after but had actually found the show to be quite enjoyable. Suguru was absolutely furious with him but even he had a few chuckles at some moments.

“What was your favourite part about Twelfth Night?” You ask, leaning against him.

“The love triangle.”

“Well, it certainly isn’t the traditional kind of love triangle.”

“A true love triangle, I’d say.”

“The kind you’d like to find yourself in?” You tease.

Satoru shrugs in response.

From where Satoru sat he could see a small group of birds gathering around. They reminded him a bit of the Ton. So easily swept up into a single moment and conversation without much consideration about the world around them. Much thought and consideration is never put into everything else that this world has to offer.

“What kind of stuff do you like to read?” Satoru asks.

You smile, “you mean apart from the book in my hand?” Satoru can tell from the way you lean back away from him with a gleam in your eyes that you’re teasing him.

So he decides to tease you back.

He leans in towards you with a grin, “you and I both know you’re only reading that because it’s popular. It’s not what you actually like to read.”

“And what do you think I like to read?”

“Wouldn’t have asked if I knew the answer.”

“Alright, I’ll bite, Satoru.”

He beams brightly when you say his name.

“The last thing I read for my own enjoyment was, Thomas De Quincey’s, Confessions of an Opium Eater.”

Satoru’s jaw drops, “the drug addict poet?”

“Most writers struggle with addiction.”

“What do you like about De Quincey’s works?”

“He wrote quite a particularly thought provoking piece about the human mind. Looking into the subconscious.”

“Oh?”

“He writes, ‘dreams are the unconscious mind finishing the halted thoughts of the conscious.’”

“A Romantic for sure.”

You beam, “oh, most definitely.”

Satoru thinks that this is the first time he’s ever seen you smile in such a way. If he weren’t already sitting he would have fallen flat on the ground. His heart would have stopped in his chest and he likely would have fallen to the ground and died only then to be once again revived by your beauty.

He thinks that this is where humanity must have peaked. That there will never again be someone that looks as beautiful as you do when you’re smiling. That no one will ever hold such a place in his heart that you do.

He leans towards you with a lovesick smile, “I’m going to marry you.”

You cough a little, “excuse me?”

His smile doesn’t falter, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“Why me?”

“You understand me.”

“Hm?”

“You see the world in a way that everyone else doesn’t and you see me for who I am. Not who everyone else thinks that I should be.”

“My Lord-”

“Satoru.” He corrects.

“Satoru,” you lean away, “don’t you think you’re being a little hasty? We’ve barely even had a full conversation since you came back from school.”

“And?”

“You barely know who I am.” You look hesitant, the mask you always wear slipping as if you’ve never worn it before.

He takes your hand before you can bolt off (he hopes that it comforts you the same way it comforts him), “I know that you understand my loneliness. You know how it feels like for the whole world to want you to be a certain way. You’ve perfected the way of living from the way you move to the smile on your face to be exactly what society expects of you.” He feels as though his heart is beating a million beats a minute.

Your expression shifts a little.

Going from hesistance -

- to surprise.

And then suddenly Satoru doesn’t know what it is that you’re exactly thinking right now. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen this expression on you and it worries him a little. His heart is fluttering in anticipation.

Satoru doesn’t think he’s ever been in such an uncomfortable situation before.

Well… there was that one time where Suguru had hidden Satoru’s favourite riding helmet as payback for something stupid he said earlier. In an attempt to make it seem like he wasn’t bothered, Satoru had gone off with a different helmet and messed up almost everything. Nothing seemed right. His horse, even though it was his favourite steed that he had ridden since he was a boy, just wasn’t listening the way it usually did. He actually almost fell off his horse twice (and actually did fall off once while in the middle of getting on).

Yeah, Satoru thinks, this feeling is a little something like that.

“Satoru.” You hold his hand tightly.

“Hm?”

“Be here with me.”

“I am here.”

“Stay in the moment with me,” you say softly, “your mind keeps drifting elsewhere.”

Satoru’s heart flutters as he smiles down at you fondly, “okay.”

Yeah.

He’s most definitely falling in love with you.

No.

He has fallen in love with you.

He’s going to marry you.

Openly, fall in love.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #100 ways to fall in love

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sebastianmichaelisslander · 6 months ago

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#kuroshitsuji #black butler #shipping #rare pairs #poll #survey #I’m curious

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egosdelirium · 7 days ago

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So Uuuh remember my Sirius raises Regulus AU?

Well, here is a snippet of chapter 2, the brothers' first meeting:

From, The Disklavier

At four in the morning a member of the Black Family’s army of butlers and governesses, Kreacher, shook Sirius out of his slumber to relay the news that he’d finally become an Older Brother, and that he was to greet his new sibling and congratulate his parents as soon as possible.

Sirius didn’t need to be told twice. He zoomed out of bed in a flash, without giving old Kreacher any time to try to catch him and wrangle him into more appropriate clothes than his simple, woolen pajamas.

He sprinted to his parents’ room, the only place where he could hear faint chatter even in the dead of night, and crashed full-bodily against the heavy ebony doors in order to tackle it open.

The first thing he noticed upon entering the chambers was Mother’s absence. The second, a baby’s quiet cries.

Father was rocking a small, bundled up creature in his arms with gleaming pride written all over his face. As soon as he noticed Sirius’ presence, he beckoned him over.

Father then knelt down in front of Sirius, moved the hem of the white blanket from the bundle in his arms, and presented him with the smallest baby he’d ever seen.

He said, “This is your brother, Regulus Arcturus Black.” And Sirius’ entire universe shifted on its axis so violently that he stumbled along with it.

The baby was sniffling pitifully, his face contorted in what Sirius thought was evident displeasure. His little sobs were anything but loud, as if he was trying to stifle them… As if he already knew that to survive inside their house, he’d have to lead a very silent existence.

Sirius wouldn't have any of that.

He outstretched his arms and stared at Father with a clear question in his eyes, which Orion appeased immediately.

As soon as Regulus was carefully deposited in Sirius’ arms, his cries grew louder and louder, so much so that they elected a surprised chuckle out of Father - who rarely ever laughed at all.

“Don't worry, Sirius, he must be a little scared of the sudden change. He's just been delivered ten minutes ago, after all.” Father tried to reassure him, but Sirius wasn't worried in the least. On the contrary, he took the baby's crying in stride.

“He's not scared, Father. He's talking to me.”

Orion scoffed out one more little chuckle before standing up again and warning Sirius to hold Regulus very carefully.

Sirius didn't need the warning, he somehow knew exactly what he needed to do.

The crying didn't bother him at all, but even as he was in no hurry to shush it he started rocking the baby back and forth a little, like he'd seen Father do, because he thought that it was the right way to go about it.

Regulus seemed to like it. If anything, he stopped crying very quickly and settled peacefully against Sirius’ chest.

That baby was Regulus. What a strange concept, what a wonderful notion.

Sirius tried to pronounce his name, slowly.

“Re-gu-lus.” He added a little bounce to his step while trying again. “Re-gulus! Regulus.”

He smiled and decided that it was a good name. It also paired up nicely with his own.

“Hello, Regulus.” He said more formally once he was confident of the pronunciation. “I'm your older brother, Sirius.”

The baby gurgled in a weird way, and then he opened his eyes. They were gray, just like Sirius’, and so very tiny that he couldn't possibly be seeing anything through them.

But they looked very focused on what they had in front of them, which must have been Sirius’ face, and under their gaze, the boy felt seen.

Sirius heard his own heart stutter.

It jumped a beat, then another, and then it started banging like a drum, so fast that he feared for a moment it would jump out of his chest. Regulus seemed to be breathing in sync with that rhythm, impossibly small ribcage rising and falling steadily underneath the soft blanket that enveloped him.

...

#TheDisklavier #black brothers #sirius black #regulus black #sirius and regulus #orion black #walburga black #house of black #marauders #sirius raises regulus au

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minniebbang · 8 months ago

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within the forest | chapter 1

Pairing: fairy!chan x princess!reader word count: 1.4k words Summary: While wandering in the forest, someone caught your eyes a/n: this series is written in 3rd POV :DD

main masterlist | series masterlist | next

"Princess, where are you?!" The butler shouted through the thick forest but to no avail, the figure he was searching for didn't answer. A sigh of frustration escaped the old man's lips as he wiped his sweat off with his black sleeve. Glancing at his wristwatch, he returned to the palace without the young little princess he was searching for. Surely, he will be punished for the mistake.

The bushes rustled against each other as her small figure carefully jumped out from it. She stifled a giggle with her hand from being heard, causing it to come out as a muffle. Observing around, she ran through the quiet meadow, with butterflies following from behind. Pollen from the flowers stuck on her plain white skirt as she ran across the colourful flowers.

Exhirilation burst inside her as she rarely experienced freedom. She realised staying inside the huge palace with only dolls and plushies as companies in her room was tiresome. The descriptions and sketches of the outside world always managed to pick her interest. Varieties of flowers, butterflies running around and birds chirping. It was the same as she imagined it would be.

Her steps came to a halt when a low snore entered her ear. Curious, she followed the sound, eventually leading her to a stone with a pair of huge black wings..? She cocked her head to the side and slowly took a step approaching it. Arriving far enough, she saw how the wings moved in the movement of someone's breathing. Her hazelnut brown orbs widened seeing a hand peeking out of the wings. A long and beautiful hand, its nails were painted black like a woman but up close it appears it has visible veins popping out.

"A man in a forest..?What are you doing here alone, mister?"

She asked the figure as if it would reply. She settled in front of him and gently caressed his gigantic wings. The hand under the wings began moving, startling her a bit. The figure sat up on the flat stone, rubbing his eyes with his fingers to get rid of the sleepiness. The figure stares at her, eyes filled with confusion and interest in the young little princess.

"W-what are you doing here, little girl? It's dangerous." He asked with his hoarse voice. His wings folded on his back as he stretched, revealing a young man with a loosened white shirt and old black pants. His black hair was messy and covered his greyish eyes.

"Your wings are gorgeous, mister."

"My wings?" He stated in disbelief and turned at his wings, a small smile tugged on his pale pink lips. He touched the wing, mumbling 'thanks' to the girl. The girl came to him, sitting on his lap which caused the man to flinch at her reckless action but to think of it, she was a little girl after all. Her tiny hand tried to reach for his hair but to no avail, she kept grasping the air. Giggling at her attempt, he bends his head forward, allowing her to touch his hair. His cold heart melted at her doing. Rarely for him to have a soft spot for children mostly for curious girls like her.

She ruffled his hair with both of her hands, removing the grass stuck in his black hair.

"Done! Now, your hair looks much cleaner, mister,"

"Thank you again, little girl. Now, answer my question, what are you doing here, all alone? In a forest?"

She stayed silent for a moment, resting her finger under her chin, thinking of an answer.

"I'm bored living in the palace with my stuffed toys every day! Mommy never let me meet someone because she said it was dangerous for me to know about outsiders."

A palace she said..? His eyes widened as realisation hit. It's the king's daughter he was holding on to. Unconsciously, his wings spread widely, causing some of the fallen leaves around them to fly away. She clapped her hand in awe. He turned to the girl.

"You're bored. Want to visit my house, little flora?" She nodded and in a blink, they were up in the sky, heading far from their early location. The man landed on the ground after arriving in front of his cottage, telling the girl to unfold her eyes. In front of them was a small cottage made out of wood and yarn as the roof.

"Come on."

He entered the house and she followed him inside. The inside was simple - a kitchen, a living room with a fire chamber on the wall, an old teak door leading to a bedroom, and some portraits of someone hanging on the walls. All of them look aged.

"This place is awesome!! Can I come here often?" She asked, tone hinting full of hope. He sighed as he brought two cups of tea in his grip, placing one in front of her and sitting across from her. She carefully took the cup, blowing it slowly before sipping the tea.

"You can, only if your mother allows you."

Hearing his answer, she immediately sulked.

"Mommy certainly wouldn't allow it. She's too strict and busy with Daddy too."

She crossed her arm across her chest, lips pouting. Again, the man couldn't resist her cute charms and it was still incredible for him how this girl could break the ice in his heart.

"Then, sure. You can come here. Do you like reading perhaps? I have tons of books left unread on the shelf."

"Yes yes!! I love books and the smell of them."

The man emerged. He grabbed some books that might be suitable and handed them to her. She gasped and started flipping through the pages, engrossing herself with the story. Minutes passed and the man just stared at her reading through each sentence in the book. A few giddily giggles escaped her lips.

"Reading books is the only way I can forget being alone, stuck in the palace. I feel like I'm not in that dim room when I read." She blurted out, raising her gaze and meeting his eyes.

"Me too. It helps me forget my pain."

"Glad I have someone who thinks the same as me."

She laughed and continued reading. Hours passed and the sun began hiding behind the horizon, welcoming the moon. He who noticed the change quickly spoke up

"It's getting late, little flora. Let's go home, yeah?" She nodded vigorously, shutting the book close, hugging it tightly to her chest.

"Can I borrow this book, mister?"

"Of course, you can. Let's go, your parents must be worried."

She smiled and hugged his legs. The sunset shone on his wings, revealing a big scar on them. She noticed it but didn't tell him about it. She closed her eyes and instantaneously, they arrived at the palace. She let go of his legs, thanking him.

"By the way, Mister, what's your name?" He sent the small girl a sweet smile and crouched to her level. He pinched her nose softly

"My name is Chan, Bang Chan. If you want to meet me again tomorrow, pick up the black feather, okay little flora? Goodbye."

After the last sentence, he disappeared into thin air, leaving only a black feather. She picked it up and heard heavy footsteps coming toward her. Spinning her body around, she was greeted by the guard, her dad and her mother. Her mother rushed to her, taking the small girl into her arms as tears flowed down. She just smiled at her father.

"Daddy! I found a new friend today! He's so kind!" She uttered cheerfully, showing the book and the feather she was holding. The king's face furrowed at the sight - no, not the book but the black feather. He knew who it was from.

#skz imagines #stray kids #skz #bang chan #bang chan imagines #bang chan x reader #chan x reader

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pixaho · 11 months ago

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White Rascals With Girlfriends

♥ Pairing | White Rascals and girlfriends :> ♥ AU? No |

♥ Warnings | Mentions of violence, drinking, smoking, and NSFW stuff ;)

M.LIST H&L LIST

R☺CKY

♦ FIRST MEET

Rocky met you when he was doing dangerous jobs before forming White Rascals. You had been walking when you noticed a young man fighting a group of black-clothed people. Thinking he was in trouble, you grabbed a near by officer and pointed him to the group. Rocky would later thank you with a coffee and or tea.

♦ DATES

His date choices are usually a restaurant, a picnic, or at home dinner date. He knows how to cook so majority of your dates are at home. He only settles for a restaurant if its a special occasion or a picnic if its a nice day out.

♦ FIRST TIME

Your first time together was magical as Rocky made sure that everything would go to a decent plan. His mistake was honestly not all bad, as he forgot to turn off his phone while you guys were at it and it lowkey drove him insane with the absurd amount of texts from others.

♦ ARGUING

You and Rocky argue from time to time. This is typically about him overworking and spending more time fighting, which usually left him injured beyond your eyes. This can also be about him taking his anger out through other ways, such as using a punching bag and not noticing when you were there.

♦ JEALOUS

Rocky doesn't get really jealous but rather annoyed when he sees someone flirting with you and possibly making you uncomfortable. His whole motto is that the White Rascals don't harass or hurt women so he makes sure that the person who is making you seemingly uncomfortable, doesn't get to see the light of Club Heaven ever again.

♦ HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

♦ HOW YOU KISS

K☺☺

♦ FIRST MEET

Surprise, you meet Koo at Club Heaven. You thought he was a butler until he introduced himself as the subleader of White Rascals. The only actual reason he had introduced himself to you was because you were drunk and asking questions, but you still remembered everything about him.

♦ DATES

Unlike Rocky, Koo isn't that great at hosting dates. This leads to him asking Rocky to then asking Kizzy and then finally just asking you what you wanted to do for date night because well he's not the brightest for dates.

♦ FIRST TIME

Koo is one of the only people to not make an entire mistake but rather a little one. He also doesn't rush around to make sure everything is comfortable and good because he prefers comfortable stuff anyways. His tiny mistake was breaking his hand before you guys did it. He had a cast on for the whole time.

♦ ARGUING

Arguments between you and Koo are rare but he has a calm personality and will search for any points to make things right. If he's wrong, he's quick to admit it. If he isn't, he tends to sit down and explain it. Bonus, if he is wrong, he'll let you paint his finger nails (only white but a pale pink or blue can be painted). (KOO IS BBG YOU CANNOT TELL ME OTHERWISE)

♦ JEALOUS

Silent jealousy type of person. He'll just death stare the person he's jealous of and then remember that he doesn't need to be jealous of them and they should be jealous of him because he has you. He will not let the person know he's jealous.

♦ HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

♦ HOW YOU KISS

KIZZY & KAIT☺

♦ FIRST MEET

You ran into Kizzy whilst at a Library doing research for a paper. She was with Kaito and they seemed to have been getting something for Rocky. You already knew Rocky, you just didn't know the others so you strike up a conversation with them. You guys seem to get along even if Kaito seemed uninterested.

♦ DATES

Kizzy is the one who makes the dates and has the help of Kaito. Although they are very different people, they seem to coordinate everything very well, even with you. If they can't come up with an idea, they usually ask you what you want to do. If you keep your relationship a secret from the other gangs, they'll settle for movie cuddles. This is where you have a movie night and cuddle. <3

♦ FIRST TIME

Kizzy and you actually did it in a hot tub. You were both sober and just flirting, plus giggling. Kaito wasn't there for it but he didn't hear the end of it from Kizzy. She did make a mistake which was knocking the temperature a few degrees higher which made it feel like it was boiling hot. With Kaito, it was after you got home from a long day at work. He was in the bed room reading when you walked in and dropped everything to help you relax. Let's just say a massage went from a massage and turned into you guys fucking.

♦ ARGUING

Arguments between you three happen half the time. This is typically because of them getting hurt or leaving a container in the fridge that is empty. Kizzy is the first to apologize and make things right with Kaito being more stubborn, but Kizzy always makes him apologize somehow.

♦ JEALOUS

If you are even flirting with another person, Kaito is quick to grab you away and bring you where people won't flirt with you. He's the more jealous one out of the two as he doesn't like others touching what's his. Whereas Kizzy doesn't care as much, just as long as you are being safe.

♦ HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

(Couldn't find 3 people sleeping so just imagine it's Kaito, Kizzy, and then you.)

♦ HOW YOU KISS

Kizzy ^ Kaito v

I know a lot of people might be upset by this, but I didn't include the last few White Rascal members because 1. You don't get much on them and even though we get to see Aizawa, Enari, Bito, and Shimura, you don't get enough of their actual personalities for me to write on. 2. As for the others (Heidi, Marco, Lassie, and Cosette) again not much information and I also didn't know how to write them with girlfriends. Maybe at some point I'll end up coming back and editing this or I'll make a part 2 where I finally come back and put Heidi, Marco, Lassie, and Cosette, but as for now I think I'm not going to do that. I don't mean to make people whose favorite characters are those 4 feel like I'm not showing or caring for them, it's just with characters with little screen time where you don't get much about them makes it hard. Thank you for understanding.

♥ Mutuals; @talusional @dillpick (since you like stalking my page haha! <3)

#elixirol0gy #high and low fanfic #high and low #highandlowfanfic #frothing at the mouth #highandlowsmut #fluff #high and low rocky #high and low kizzy #high and low kaito #high and low koo #highandlowwhiterascals #white rascals #whiterascals #high and low white rascals

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