#but I would like to think I've gotten a bit better
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Fuck it, it's late, and I wanna go to sleep, but I probably won't be able to until I've properly articulated this somewhat batshit gender social theory I've been rotating in my mind for a while now - I think that the current "crisis of masculinity" in the western world was catalysed by the invention of the nuclear bomb. Note that this post is unfiltered, unedited brain noise and bullshit
So, essentially, traditionally masculine personality traits are good for being a hunter or a soldier, but they kinda suck for anything else. If you want to, like, function in modern society, traditonally feminine personality traits are much better for that. This is why we see, for example, girls consistently outperforming boys in schools these days.
Now, in ye olde days(tm), society actually needed to have 50% of the population as potential soldiers to throw into a meatgrinder for a few square miles of dirt every 20 or so years. But at the end of WW2, the nuclear bomb was invented, and suddenly great power conflicts are something that no-one can win and are to absolutely be avoided at all costs.
So, given that a proper great power conflict will probably cause the extinction of humanity, society doesn't really need to have that many soldiers anymore. But people still haven't gotten the memo yet, and are still conditioning half of the population into soldiers from birth. And what do soldiers do when they don't have a war to fight? The recurring historical problem is that a lot of them become bandits.
The only real solution to this is *wesker voice* complete global feminisation. That is to say, the abandonment of traditionally masculine personality traits and the embrace of traditionally feminine ones. So long as we remain shackled to the corpse of masculinity, we'll never be able to move forward. This will likely be a very slow process, taking place over the course of hundreds of years and not being complete until long after anyone reading this post is dead, because frankly like 95% of people - man or woman - do not want this to happen, they want men to continue being traditionally masculine. There's a lot of societal inertia that has gotten us into this mess. This change will only happen as, gradually, over the course of many generations, people stop wanting that.
Notes:
This is one of the things that frustrates me about reactionary masculine gender influencers. By trying to bring about a great masculine revival and encouraging men to be more masculine, they are harming the very people they claim to represent, they are encouraging people to become more maladapted to the society they live in, whereas becoming more feminine would be becoming better-adapted
Japan might be a bit ahead of us here. Feminine traits in men are depicted as positive and even romantically desirable in a way you just don't see in English-language works. I suspect that if an English-language writer were to try to do that it'd come off as kinda preachy, as if they were trying to convince *themselves* to be attracted to those traits. Whereas Japanese-language writers don't need to do that because they genuinely do find it attractive.
Alright, actually going to bed now
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Thinking about your post about what it would be like to be Valeria's wife and how do you think Valeria would react if she found out that reader was cheating on her? like, reader was feeling frustrated and not getting the love and support that she needs from valeria, so she looks for validation and that love elsewhere
AHHH. I've been wanting to write a one-shot about cheating for ages but I just haven't gotten around to doing it. Valeria is the one cheating though.
I've been cheated on by two different people, so my opinion on cheaters isn't very high. Wasn't very high to begin with anyway really. It's super fun to explore different perspectives though
Valeria with a Cheating Wife
Valeria would be pissed. First and foremost. Even more so if she has to find out on her own. Valeria doesn't even care that you've been feeling unloved and lonely because she sees this as an ultimate act of betrayal. Let's say finds out by looking through your phone or something. She is pissed, yes, but there is this deep-rooted hurt under it. (Which only makes the anger worse.) Valeria isn't the type to jump from relationship to relationship. She's incredibly distrustful and it takes a while for her to start letting down her walls.
So when she glances at your phone when it pings only to see an odd message, like "Tomorrow sounds good ;)". Or something. Valeria snoops right away. Scrolling through the long history of texts between you and this woman - evident by the nudes traded between the two of you. Her heart sinks as she reads about you complaining about her. Oh, she's always away, she was cold and grumpy today, being with Valeria is so lonely. She kind of just... stared at those texts for a while.
You come into the bedroom from doing whatever. Maybe you were showering or something, doesn't matter. Valeria is silent up until you get into bed with her. She wanted to ask subtly. To catch you in a lie or something but she's at a loss for words. She's so hurt and angry that she asks straight up if you're cheating. Valeria's heart shatters a little bit when you quietly admit you do. That quickly turns into you pouring your heart out about how neglected you feel. You feel like she's fallen out of love with you, even suspected she may have been having an affair herself.
Valeria, naturally, screams at you and kicks you out. Throws you out with your car keys and locks the door. She breaks things and contemplates how she'll kill the woman you were seeing behind her back. The thought of action, of writing this wrong helps her cope better. Then, she cries. It's not violent or dramatic sobbing. Just a few angry tears that are swiftly wiped away.
Valeria would also be embarrassed. She wasn't enough for you so you went to someone else.
Best case scenario is she simply divorces you and wants nothing to do with you but I feel like there's a good chance she'd kill you in a fit of rage. A small part, would feel guilty for having neglecting you but not enough for her to forgive cheating.
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Feedback from the recent presentation has come in, and unsuprisingly the judge said I need "more eye contact and confidence in your answers."
Kind of hard when they're slinging questions at me that I don't know how to answer and I am not in fact "the expert." But fair enough.
Otherwise the judge didn't seem to dislike it, so that's a relief, and there was a recommendation for further research and presentations.
So they may not have seen the last of me. Maybe.
#random personal stuff#I've had a lot of feedback over the years to the effect of 'more confidence! be more vocal!'#and that's nice but it's not like I can just go to the confidence store and pick some up#or I just didn't feel like using my confidence today and switched it off#but I would like to think I've gotten a bit better#definitely have come a long way from just-released-from-the-lab Rebekah
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want to cut my hair again like you wouldn't believe. What are the possible consequences of going bald
#100% секретный дневник левы НЕ ЧИТАЙ#actually i dont mean bald i just mean all one guard length#but hhhhh maybe i'm in an awkard stage maybe not i just CANNOT live like this#middle part is frustrating because it's not perfect in the way it sits side part is frustrating because i look like a girl#i feel like i could go all in with the 4 and then sorta texture a bit with the 2 guard HOWEVER having used the 4 previously. i know#how short that is. it might not look good so i worry#the bright side is it would grow out a bit by the time of the parade but augh i hate this#i'm currently a tightly wound ball of rage sorry. i didn't eat much of anything 2day#tried to call the hospital to get help with the letter/consulation thing preceding top surgery and they were NOT OPEN so idk if they will#be open tomorrow or not. the passage of time has gotten very vague all of a sudden#iiiiiii do not think i am doing well. lol. idk why though! god forbid any of it have a reason#i almost wish i'd relapse just so i could like. eat food again#idk i don't think it would solve it but i feel in my heart it might make things easier#buuuut because relapse is Bad For Me i guess i have to avoid it. well i want to anyways.#one bad day would not a reset make but my previous day happened this year already so...#i dunno it's been so long that i feel like it's not valid or whatever cause it was at an age where i can say it was a 'phase'#.............. i dunno what to do with that information. anyways.#i mean so what if i went all in on it again anyways? i kinda miss it lol. it's not like i could do any serious harm??#(potential infections aside.)#i just want to be creative and i CANT because my stupid brain will NOT think of anything#and the majority of what i have concretely written of this was written... get this .... right when i was trying to stay clean at first#correlation does not equal causation ........ sighs#i feel like i'm fighting a losing battle because i WANT IT to be that bad again#i've never really regretted it & it's never really been because of anything#i just started because i was curious about why someone would do that. that's all#i dont think i've EVER had any of the mental distress i see people in when theyre in these spaces#in one journal entry i made this big deal about wanting to kill myself but *i didn't want to*. i never did.#like sorry old me but it is REALLY hard to believe i've ever been depressed depressed#i just want things to be better and they never are :/ this should be everything i wanted and its just ... not#i'm not really sure how to ....... oh tag limit ok hold on
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Kissing my past self on the forehead like you're SO CUTE and SO CRINGE. I LOVE YOU !
#Oiygaagahhggh#You grow and learn and I think I've made this post 129686 times already but you look back and like#YOURE SUCH A LI'L GUY. YOU'RE A BABY. YEAH I HAVE GROWN. I HAVE GROWN AND CHAGED AND GOTTEN BETTER!!!#Also someone is being silly and a bit cringe on Tumblr and also they have my irl name and I'm like.. This is so funny to me.. Thank u for#Ur service.. Inundated w ****** content... They will never find me now...#Void talks#Going through my own posts like I love you I am you we are holding hands rn#Also thinking abt if I had a clone. I say that I would be friends w them but seeing someone have the same name (not that common) as me is#Already??? So odd????!!#I don't know what I'd do if I saw my twin. Hm.
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going to a comedy open mic tomorrow mostly to watch my friends (it's at a cool venue that my improv troupe performs at once a month and a few improv troupe friends are doing standup there) but when these friends were asking if i'd be interested in coming they were like "btw there's usually a ton of open spots on show days if YOU want to do something... and they're not strict about it only being standup either, people have done character pieces and sketches etc like they embrace the weirdness... and they're not strict about time limits you could probably do anything between three and eight minutes... sometimes if there's not enough people signed up they'll even let you go twice..." and i'm like god damn it i thought i was gonna take a break from aubrey but this setup is like tailor made for an aubrey appearance lmao
#still on the fence about it bc the burnout i experienced at the beginning of may extended to aubrey#especially bc so much of my aubrey stuff is comedy about gender and my brain was more in ''set everything on fire'' mode#and i think i've gotten to a good place with that burnout but i still haven't worked on any aubrey stuff since i got home from college#but even still even tho my mental health is better than it was a few weeks ago#recently i have had this horrible insomnia where i haven't been able to fall asleep at night in over a week#(i've made up for it with naps but still i am not mentally 100% rn. i've tried so many things and nothing has worked.)#so that's my justification for *not* doing aubrey tomorrow. however.#i reeeally need to get more performance experience bc there's only so much you can develop a sketch character without performing them#and this venue is so good. it's an art gallery like an hour away that's designed to be part gallery and part performance venue#especially for comedy. like the venue owner is this veteran comedian who used to work with bobcat goldthwait and a lot of other big names#and it's a low-pressure environment bc everyone there has seen me do comedy before with my improv troupe#but they still haven't seen me do aubrey at all so it's bringing a new side of my comedy to some of my main collaborators#like this is so much better than my previous aubrey performances bc they were all either#1. shows in CLASSROOMS with a bunch of my classmates who generally don't get my comedy (very clique-ish)#or 2. a guest spot on a show at a coffee shop where everyone knew each other except me#plus the biggest thing for me is the lack of a strict time limit. like as much as having a good 3-minute monologue can be#i think aubrey is a character you need to get to know a bit longer than 3 minutes. and a lot of my stuff is long while also being very tigh#like not every monologue is like this but my best aubrey monologues are almost like aubrey is telling you a sitcom storyline#and removing too many lines makes the whole narrative jenga tower fall over#and as much as i want to figure out how to make every monologue a good starting point#having the chance to perform multiple monologues if i get to go twice so that they can build off each other would be perfect#idk i'm not sure how often the open mics are there. at least monthly tho i might be missing next month's depending on when i'm in toronto#so like this wouldn't really be my only chance. but yeah i'm on the fence about whether to bring aubrey back for a performance tomorrow#i probably wouldn't do new material. i'd do the 5 minute version of my uncle reg monologue bc it's the one that's worked best so far#and if i get to do multiple. maybe i'd do the ''nom de plum'' monologue bc i think it's also very strong#and it has a good callback to uncle reg#but idk i also think doing the song would be very fun and on-theme since it's pride month and the song is a satire of rainbow capitalism#tho i'd probably have to rework the monologue that leads into the song bc even tho i loved the concept i don't think i articulated it well#or i could write an entirely different lead-in and make the previous monologue (''C/H/M'') a separate thing to revise later#which would probably go better and somehow be less work to write. but even so i don't know what the venue's sound setup is
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May I present for your consideration...Jack Aubrey but he’s the manager for mediocre non-league side Sophie FC
#please appreciate that it looks like a naval uniform and please overlook that the 'epaulette' is on the wrong side#(it's supposed to be the piping(?) on his tracksuit jacket btw. not sure if that was clear)#yes i'm 11 books into this series no i still have no idea how anything in the navy works#stephen says things and i'm like yeah sounds about right they probably do call it that on board the ship#anyways this is indeed for my aubreyad football au aka the notorious Creative Endeavor#we're still on it and we haven't gotten anything to show for it! here have a little art for fun instead!#it's intended to be based on the first book hence why jack only has one epaulette and also why he looks like Baby#and yes i do wish that he was a bit more rounder and squishier looking i will work on that one for next time#still getting the hang of drawing him and stephen but i do think that the pencil-and-paper seems to do better by me#he is a little bit messy but alas all digital attempts looked Much Worse so we're sticking with pencil sketch#*breathes deeply* i am going to post this to the tag i am going to accept the mortifying ordeal of being known#aubreyad#The Creative Endeavor and other aubreyad nonsense#perce rambles#also in other news i've downloaded so many books about football someone stop me#and oh! if anyone has Aubreyad Football AU Opinions to share i would love to hear them! always happy to get messages :)#scribblings & such
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I feel like doctors should learn something similar to what psych students learn about the therapeutic alliance/relationship
Now I admit that I'm no doctor, nor am I training to be one, and I'm actually not even going to school to be a counsellor or therapist, but psych students, depending on the classes they take, do learn a lot about this topic, and I feel like it's a really important topic in a lot of caregiver-patient contexts. But, since I've never stepped foot in any medical school or anything, I don't know if they are teaching doctors this stuff! I just feel like people, doctors and patients alike, should know about this idea for their own benefit
Anyway, back to the topic at hand:
We so often see people talking about how they feel ignored or belittled by their doctors, like their doctors don't take their problems seriously (we all know the common "have you tried losing weight?" question, often targeted at AFAB people but I imagine AMAB people get their fair share of that unfortunate interaction). I had a recent experience where I felt like I couldn't get a word in edgewise with a doctor at a walk-in clinic! That should not be happening!
And YES, I understand that working in the medical field is awful, it's hard work, it creates burnout and overworks people to the extreme. Those are, unfortunately, large-scale systemic issues in the field as a whole, so there's not a whole lot I can say there since I'm talking on a more individual level
But, being in a medical setting, it's extremely important for doctors and nurses to be mindful of the people they're treating instead of making their patients feel like they aren't being heard or taken seriously
Which brings me to the therapeutic alliance/relationship. I'll explain briefly what it is, but here's some sources in case anyone wants/needs any:
Psychology Today
National Library of Medicine
The therapeutic alliance is essentially the relationship between the client and therapist, and there's elements to it that should be present for therapy to be effective. From the National Library of Medicine article above, there's 3 generally agreed upon elements that should exist between therapist and client: bond, agreement on treatment goals, and establishing a collaborative relationship
I feel like having a bond-type of relationship probably isn't as important in medicine, depending on the situation, especially in the context of walk-in clinics and hospital settings, but I feel like it's not too much to ask for an agreement on treatment goals and the establishment of a collaborative relationship
These things have been shown to improve treatment, make it more effective! And at the end of the day isn't that the whole point of medicine?
From what I've seen, a lot of people feel like doctors often look down on them and patronize them. Like doctors don't think patients know what's going on with themselves. It feels like a really unbalanced power dynamic between doctor and patient, which, at the end of the day, just leads to frustration and unnecessary suffering on the part of the patient due to lack of effective treatment. I think that, by establishing a collaborative relationship, this power dynamic can be (hopefully) avoided to some extent, which can lead to an open discussion on what treatment goals should be
At the very least, treating your patient like an equal (like what a collaborative relationship would hopefully lead to) and explaining to them in clear and easy to understand terms why you're choosing a particular treatment plan would be appreciated. Otherwise, patients can feel frustrated and confused as to why their doctors aren't considering other options
I know there's some great doctors out there! There's some amazing doctors! But I hear too often (and experience too often) doctors that don't consider their patients as someone to work with and give off the impression that they don't think their patients know what's going on with their own bodies. And that needs to change
#therapeutic alliance#therapeutic relationship#healthcare#doctors#medical field#I know I Went Off for a bit but rarely do I feel like I have an Opinion I can feel Confident enough with to express#and feel like I know (on some level) what I'm talking about#just bc like. mental health treatment is at the end of the day a medical thing#so I feel like the considerations for the relationship between caregiver and client should be similar if not the same#I've been frustrated too tbh bc I've had an infection for like a month and the dr at the clinic I went to seemed to have written me off#before I even walked into the room with him. it was requested to me that I get a swab done for my throat bc the infection wasn't going away#and he hardly swabbed it— I'd had one done earlier this month (at a different clinic) and they did a thorough swab#the guy just seemed very dismissive too. even tho I'd had this infection for a month and it was causing me a lot of pain#like I said I couldn't get a word in edgewise#I haven't been able to see my friends this month except for once bc I thought I was finally getting better#and it's been awful for my mental health#I've gotten desperate to understand why they can't do anything if it's not a bacterial infection even if it's sticking for a literal month#so that clear and open and respectful communication would be really really nice tbh#anyway sorry for venting in the tags oops#just been thinking about this#hope this post receives well lmao
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You are not Special- DC X DP Prompt
Interdimensional God-like beings are not known for their patience, however it looked like they had gotten lucky.
This being that had been summoned against its will to their universe was actually quite calm. They sat back on a makeshift throne made by the cultists that had brought them here. Its body was the form of a young man draped in silk. He paid little mind to the cult bowing and scraping at his feet as he absentmindedly examined his nails for anything under them. They were as pristine as his marble-like form.
"You know cults get a bad reputation in these modern times." He said not looking up at the heroes who had invaded his sanctuary intent on sealing him away. "Not without cause of course. But not every cult is evil. As oxymoronic as that sounds. But it used to mean a group of people devoted to their god of choice, no different than any other religion except they lived solely to dedicate their lives to it. No tricks or schemes, just beliefs. None of that sacrifice or blood here though. I like cleanliness and a good batch of dessert for my alters."
"We aren't here to give your offerings." Batman said simply.
The teen stretched lazily and shrugged.
"You are free to just pray, take a rest, eat, or do whatever you want."
"You don't belong here. You must return to your own realm." Superman said fimly but cordially.
The cultists panicked as they looked between their god and the heroes. Some had disdain etched on their faces others had sadness.
"Don't belong? I do what I want. Who are you people to tell ME what to do? Do you own this planet? This universe?" The god challenged.
"We are the protectors of this planet. Surely you understand that we can't let you stay here using humans like servants." Superman retorted.
Constantine had a bad feeling about what came next as he got between everyone to speak.
"Sorry, forgive him. We don't want to offend. It's just that our universe has had enough beings like you causing issues in the past. We are a bit exhausted because every major event seems to hit our planet. We are a bit defensive."
The teens's lip curled.
"Do you think you are the only planet with such woes? How conceited. What you believe that your little planet is so special that it is the only one subject to the powers of beings you can't control? As we speak there a thousands of beings influencing this world that have a bigger effect than what I'm currently doing. Are you tired of being the playthings of the universe? Bah! The universe doesn't care one bit what goes on on this little planet over the billions of planets in this universe. You are no more special than a bit of algae on a frozen world." The teen sneered.
"But that doesn't change the fact that we would like one less threat to deal with," Batman said as Constantine tried to shut him up. "Even if you do not care about humans, we care what you can do to us."
"A good point but I never said I didn't care. I'm actually fond of humans but no more fond of them than any other lifeforms. There are billions of aliens in this universe alone. But not one is special because all life is special. Not one is better. But any damage I could possibly do to you could easily be done by the many unseen gods of this realm. These beings have built this world from those that actively created it, ignore it, and those that don't even realize it exists. Could you believe that your own creator doesn't know you are there? It's actually very common."
"You're dodging the question and talking in circles. We just want you to leave." Batman sighed irritably.
"You keep telling me to leave. I have just arrived but I've also always been here. Is this how you greet me?" The teen crossed his arms.
"Are you a god of this world?" Wonder Woman stepped forward this time. "You dress like that of a Roman god."
"Do you like it? I got it from Rome a few thousand years ago."
Well, he never failed to turn something into a compliment, that's for sure.
"But that's a complicated question. If you're asking if I made your universe then, no. If your asking if it exists because of me then, yes. It exists because I do. It's my nature. So I'm not a god. I'm a law of nature." The boy leaned back and kicked his feet childishly.
"You look like a kid." Clark blurted.
"Well... you're right. But you didn't have to point it out." He pouted.
"I mean, you just look...like a person. Not a force of nature." Clark quickly corrected.
"I look like what you can perceive me as. Can't ask a two-dimensional creature to understand three dimensions. Think of me as an anthropomorphic personification of a concept." The teen stood up finally and walked around his bowing worshippers.
"And what are you?" Batman said stiffly as the boy reached him.
"I am the Void. The absence of force or untethered space and infinite possibilities. A place of raw unprocessed energy. So if I exist then a tethered space with one string of possibilities exists. Think string theory." The boy laughed.
"Wait, I know what you are. You're an Ancient, an Endless. I thought I'd get a break from your lot after Morphosis." Constantine said.
The group turned to Constantine in surprise, not surprised that he knew what the kid was but that he had done this before.
"Look, kid. Your lot don't show themselves often. Especially not in front of so many people. You'd usually lay low among mortals." Constantine said suspicious of the young Endless. "Do the others know you are playing around?"
The teen presses his lips together. He glares like someone has ruined his game.
"Should I try summoning them and ask." Constantine smirked, he knew he found his in.
"You wouldn't." He frowned.
"I would." Constantine said "Unless you want to go home on your own."
The boy tried to protest but a portal opened on its own and a hand reached out grabbing the boy by the ear.
"What are you doing in the mortal realm this time?! I told you to focus on fixing the timelines not playing god like a child!" The voice boomed.
"But Clockwork-" The teen whined as he was dragged through the portal "I was just pulling a prank. I swear!"
The boy's voice was muffled and distant as he got to the other side. Then the prtal closed and it was over.
The room went silent.
"He was right. There is nothing special about any life form over another. But that also means he is no different than a human child and held to the same standards." Constantine said lighting a cigarette before leaving the ruins. "You can handle the rest right?"
#dc x dp#dpxdc#dc x dp prompt#dp x dc prompt#danny fenton#batman#superman#wonder woman#john constantine#bruce wayne#clark kent#diana prince#dp clockwork#clockwork
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imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose
okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."
thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH
simon 'ghost' riley x reader
wc: 563
warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)
a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3
a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?
simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.
so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.
looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.
"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.
"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.
"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.
"i'm taken."
"i know." you replied with a short laugh.
"you should be touching me like that then."
it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.
"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"
"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.
"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.
sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.
"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.
you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.
"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.
"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.
simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."
you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.
you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.
#ghostedéabha#éabha writes#éabha's 💌#ghostedéabha: ghost#ghostedéabha: simon riley#simon ghost riley fluff#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x reader fluff#ghost riley x reader#awnie's amazing nonnies💞
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sibling situation
simon 'ghost' riley
cw: smut & plot, mactavish!reader, size kink/difference, missionary sex, unprotected sex, marriage & babies (at the end), romance, simon's found family
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simon knew that johnny had a sister. you had been brought up in conversation tons of times. after the death of your parents, you and johnny were really all each other had. but johnny left for the military right before turning eighteen and you struggled to put yourself through university. it wasn't the easiest life and simon could understand, he had his own scars of his childhood.
"so, why are you dragging me out here again, johnny?"
"get ya out of that shoe box flat. got a little more leg room where i am."
johnny had driven the car all the way to edinburgh with a promise that a little time away would do wonders for the other man. simon had his ear talked off about how london was just too big, and while edinburgh was a city. it would be a break from the intense metropolitan of london. if need be the two of them and you could go on a getaway to the countryside.
"this better be good, johnny."
"ah, don't worry! i promise, you'll have the time of your life!" johnny reached over and slapped his friend on the back, "plus, you have to meet my sister."
the flat that you shared with johnny was well kept. of course it was, your brother was out most of the year with an automatic deposit for rent and when he was home, it was so ingrained with the military that things were kept tidy. and you on the other hand enjoyed tidiness as well.
even if cleaning the place in his absence felt a bit much sometimes, you still at least picked up your socks off the floor, put the clean dishes in the cupboard and washed out the carafe of the coffee maker. but you had worked over time to make sure everything was perfect, not for your brother (he could clean himself), but rather the mysterious guest that he was bringing.
you didn't want his lieutenant to think you lived like animals!
when the knock on the front door came, you happily welcomed them. your gaze was captured away from your grinning brother and rather the larger man beside him. he wore a black medical face mark, but you could see the tiredness in his eyes. the mop of blond hair and a slight scar over his eyebrow.
"oh, kid, this simon. simon riley, my lt." johnny smiled, patting his fellow solider on the arm.
you shot him a glance, "i'm almost thirty, johnny. i'm far from a kid." you were a bite fiery, simon liked that.
johnny beamed back at you, "but you'll always be my little sister. gotten into trouble while i was gone?"
you let both men in and replied, "well except for yelling at those stupid kids from the secondary school about smoking in front of my window. nothing else really happened."
johnny dropped his bags on the hardwood floor and kicked off his boots. he put them correctly by the door before he stretched his arms over his head, "where's that guy you were seein'. teddy or somethin'?"
simon stood a little straighter. of course you had a boyfriend, look at you!
you waved your hand, "oh, he's long gone. i guess cousin nikki's words are true." you looked at your brother, "never date a man in finance. turns out he had more than one bonnie in his pocket."
johnny dropped his shoulders and remarked, "never liked the guy anyway. seemed a little uptight, would never survive a gathering of the mactavish's." he laughed.
simon felt odd in the space. seeing the siblings interacting. he thought of his own brother for a moment. instead he just followed suit and took off his heavy boots as well.
you looked at simon, "i hope it's okay that you take the couch. this place is only two bedrooms. the couch." you gestured to it, "does pull out so hopefully you'll have enough room. but, if you don't, tomorrow my lovely brother can give up his room."
"my room!" johnny replied loudly, "i've still got sand in my crack for the mission and you're givin' my room!"
you shot your brother a glance which johnny coward from. no words had to be said. johnny knew that it would be the right thing to do. after all, simon was his guest.
the afternoon went by slowly, and you and johnny moved through the small kitchen like a team. johnny was good at dicing and you were good at keeping an eye on the sauteeing vegetables.
"simon." you said which made simon look up from his spot at the small dining table. your eyes met and you pushed some hair out of your face, "two things. one, there should be a headband on the table it's soft and used for make-up. i need to get this hair out of my eyes. secondly, johnny never said that you had any dietary issues. is there anything i should avoid? i just sort of got our normal grocery order."
simon perked a little bit more, "oh i don't have any allergies or anything, ma'am." he gave a small nod, "i could eat anythin'."
you nodded, "okay, excellent!"
the blond found in endearing. it was almost hypnotic watching you put together the vegetables with the hearty pasta sauce. you worked a stove top like no other. the only problem was that your brother kept getting in the way of his sight of you.
been a while since a woman cooked him a meal.
simon got up quickly and gave you the headband. it was soft and pink colour with two sewn on cat ears made of the same material. you put it on and simon's heart skipped a beat. you were just so beautiful.
dinner of pasta, toasted buns and salad were served with a bottle of grocery store wine. the three of you drank, ate and chatted. you and johnny had most of the conversation while simon enjoyed listening.
he figured out that he could listen to you talk forever.
"well, i'm tired." johnny said as he rubbed his eyes. he finished the rest of his wine before he got up. he patted you on the top of the head, "i'll do the dishes in the mornin'. thanks for dinner, kid."
you rolled your eyes, pouring yourself another glass, "i'm not a kid."
johnny chuckled then looked to simon, "she'll get ya comfortable for the evenin'. i'll see ya tomorrow." before his tired steps headed towards the bedroom. soon the door closed and the sound of his body hitting the bed could be softly heard.
you leaned back in the kitchen chair, one leg draped over the other with your arms crossed. you admitted, "it must be hard to date. finding someone who understands your world."
simon stretched out a little more in his chair. he eyed the empty wine glass in front of him, "i try not to think about it so hard."
"i've heard stories about you. the terrifying ghost. there one moment, gone the next." you then reached across the table to drag a finger down the inside of simon's wrist, "i wonder if i had you in my bed tonight, if you'd be gone by morning."
your admission made simon's dark eyes grow a little wider. he said, "well, i have nowhere else to go."
you smiled a little, "must be lonely. i know it's lonely for me. to feel close to someone."
simon asked, "do you want to sleep with me miss mactavish?"
you chuckled lowly, as to not awake your brother in his room. you leaned back a little once more and gazed at him. you were definitely johnny's brother. the look in your eye said it all. you tilted your head a little to the side and asked, "is it that obvious, mister riley?"
the sound of wooden chairs against the floor as the two of you made your way to the bedroom. you took simon by his tattooed wrist and got him into your room. the door was shut a little louder than you hoped. you turned on the light and simon was already working the belt of his jeans.
you were quick to get your t-shirt off and you saw simon's hungry gaze on you as you became free of your clothes. his eyes raked the exposed skin and thought you looked like a dream.
"like what you see, simon?"
he nodded, "more beautiful than the photos, ma'am."
you covered your mouth while you giggled, "no need for the formalities. if my brother is underranked by you, then i'm sure as hell as a civilian."
simon got a hold of your waist, "you deserve a little more respect than your brother." then pulled you in for a soft kiss. even with his scars that you had seen over dinner. you thought he was beautiful.
it made you warm all over as you pulled the dark t-shirt on his shoulders. he helped you get out of it. and your hands pressed against his chest. you admired the scars, the tattoos, the overall beauty of him.
"i wish my brother had said his lt was hot prior. i would've tried to get with you sooner."
simon picked you up by the waist, your legs wrapped around his waist as he brought you to the bed and sat you down. he then started to work at the button of your jeans. once they were off, he cupped the bulge in his pants.
you slipped out of your simple purple panties and the white bra you wore. you then laid out on your bed with your hands behind your head and you giggled softly.
simon was absolutely smitten by you. he had come to the conclusion that when they were talking about the beauties in scotland. they meant you. and only you. once you were both naked, he got onto the bed.
the bed was a bit smaller than he had hoped, but you two could fit into it thankfully. he was worried that his large, bulkier frame would inch you off of the mattress. but it was a lot easier when he got between your legs. his achy erection, bright red at the tip, begged for attention.
you swallowed a little, "i wonder if it'll fit."
"then you tell me if it does. got it? you mactavish's have a habit of not showing pain." simon gave you a pointed gaze.
you covered your face for a minute, "okay. talk about my brother ends here. i don't want to hear about him while you're balls deep inside of me."
simon chuckled lightly and leaned in for another kiss. he said softly, close to your lips, "if it's anything, love. you're much more a looker than he is."
you held onto his blond locks and pulled him in for a hot kiss. you made a small noise when he shifted your hips up against him. to get a better angle of his cock inside of you.
"simon."
he said softly, his voice still gravely, "beautiful, beautiful girl. i don't know what that last boyfriend of yours was thinkin'. why want another when he could have you. but, i guess that means more for me."
your cheeks grew hot and simon pressed his cock up against you wet slit. you felt your heartbeat race at the anticipation of what was to come. you tensed up at the feeling of his cock being pushed into it.
"i got ya, i got ya. you feel so good there, love."
you nodded, "it's been a while. sorry if i'm too.. tight."
simon loomed over you like a comforting shadow. he gazed down at you, but there was a softness to his tired eyes. you didn't realize how pretty his eyes were. a deep dark brown, that lured you in while in the soft lighting of your bedroom.
he started to move against you and you let out a small moan. the bed squeaked a little bit. thankfully the frame didn't hit the wall. you two had to be somewhat quiet. even if your brother could be heard snoring in the room next to yours.
the sex between you two was quick, but not rough. the idea of bruising such a beauty made simon feel disgusted. you were meant to be cherished. he wanted to know everything about you.
"you are quite handsome, simon."
"thank you, love." he said softly as he held onto your thighs and moved against you. even in missionary you looked beautiful. the slight bounce of your breasts in time with his movements. he wanted to kiss all your soft parts throughout his visit in your sweet home.
he could get used to a warm meal and a warm cunt to bury himself into every night. maybe johnny was right, staying with you was better than being in london.
maybe he could get used to scotland.
he knew he could fit easily into the chaos of the mactavish family. if he could handle johnny, then he could handle you. at least he could fuck one of you quiet.
you felt your heart hammering at the feeling of it all. your noises were so sweet that it made simon need to bury himself deeper inside of you. he needed to feel all you could offer.
call him a sick puppy, but his brain was now wired to need you. you were a hit of a feeling that simon was so painfully unfamiliar with that it almost scared him. but as he admired the sight of you under him.
those soft lips partially opened, your eyes closed. you looked like an angel, and he swore he found heaven.
"beautiful." he said softly, his rugged voice made you feel like honey. gooey and warm, filling.
you came with your hands in his shaggy blond hair. your back arched as you felt the heat through you. you moaned a little louder than you hoped for as he continued to thrust up into you.
panting breaths between heavy thrusts as you laid spread out on the bed, letting simon move quicken his pace to reach his climax. he could feel it on the tip of his tongue. and with a few more heavy thrusts, he finished inside of you. his cheeks flushed and his mouth hung open in a heavy pant.
"fuck, simon."
"beautiful." he said absently. not able to think of much else besides your beauty. you were the kind of woman that simon was into.
he pulled out of you and rested down beside you on bed. you chuckled softly, your head still a little full of post orgasmic bliss. you got the covers on top of you and cuddled him naked.
clothed would be a worry in the morning.
when morning came, simon tried to slink back to the couch before johnny woke up. but when he exited your room and entered the main living space. he found johnny sitting there at the kitchen table. he was leaned back into his seat. simon caught sight of the pistol on the worn wooden table.
"so, si." johnny said, looking away from his paper to look at his fellow solider, "what are yer intentions with my sister?"
it had been a very long time since simon felt the stone of dread in his stomach. he tried not to show it across his scarred face. simon could instantly recall every military statistic that johnny had. there could be a million and one ways that the scottish solider could kill simon. and it wasn't like simon could do anything, he couldn't kill your brother.
there was a brief moment of silence between the two of them. neither made a motion or noise. simon wondered what was to come next. no amount of training could've prepared him for this.
but johnny broke the silence with laughter, "i'm just messin' with ya! the gun's not even loaded. just wanted to scare ya." he leaned forward in his seat. he looked at simon, "i don't care how my sister sees, but i have to be a little bit intimidating, don't ya think so, si?"
simon chuckled nervously.
johnny's suddenly expression dropped and he put down his paper in favour of the unloaded pistol. he pointed the front of it to simon, one eye closed as if he was going to shoot the blond in front of him. he said, "but if you break her heart there, simon. i won't be so forgiving."
the doorway to your bedroom opened with a loud creak and your voice rang through the apartment the three of you were in, "I swear to god! john michael mactavish! you better not be intimidating him!"
-
"you're seriously crying?" you asked your brother as you watched him gently take a hold of your newborn. your brother was a military man for christ's sake. he was weeping like a baby.
simon loomed over his colleague, protective over his newborn. his stern brown gaze read simply, "don't fuck it up, soap." he was ready to jump in if johnny fucked it up.
you were resting back in the hospital room, you just had your child with simon. you two had been married for a little over three years. it became habit for simon to come with johnny post-missions. the drive up to the city and you waiting for them.
a hug for your brother, a kiss for your lover.
now you were watching your brother cry at the sight of his nephew. the chubby little boy bundled up in a blanket. unaware of his weepy uncle. you looked at him with a slightyl stunned expression.
you probably cried less when you finally pushed him out. you didn't want to tell him the news because you thought he was going to cry more. while your son's first name was oliver, his middle name was john. after the crying mactavish in the hospital room.
"he really takes after us." john remarked when his cries died down.
you chuckled, "he sure does, johnny. now hand him over before you drop him." <3
#bunny writes#reader insert#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#ghost call of duty#ghost mw2#simon ghost riley#simon ghost smut#ghost smut#ghost cod#simon ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley smut#cod mw2#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon riley imagine#simon riley
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🎀 - private classes, lacy panties and strawberry prints.
summary: your mother and your father trusted coriolanus snow with their lives, especially seeing how good your grades have gotten. but of course, the way he made you pay attention to what you were learning was a secret.
content warning: oral recieving (f.), fem reader, squirting, mentions to a blowjob, thigh riding, snow teasing you both sexually and verbally, dirty talk, smut, p in v, nsfw (mdni), dom snow, sub reader, creampie.
w.c: 2.083
first things first, you need to remind how coriolanus snow, heir of the snow name and everything that came to it, was now sitting between your legs, kneeling while his fingers teased your pussy through your panties.
on the dinner your father held to celebrate the development of his business growing up and being praised by the current president of Panem, your mother was in charge of the guest list, so of course she invited the Snow family, his cousin and his grandma'am.
you didn't expect it, but you should have expected that she would embarass you like this in front of your classmate.
"coriolanus, you're such a peach! i can't believe such a smart handsome young man like that still exists." you looked at her, lip syncing for her to stop, she didn't even bat an eye at you.
"i'm flattered, truly. but i'm sure i'm not the only one on the capitol with good manners." he said, smiling kindly at your mother. god, if he knew how your heart beat stronger when you saw this smile of his, you'd be damned. "your daughter, for exemple, is the sweetest girl i've ever had the pleasure to speak to. even though we only talked today." he said, the glass of posca on his hand travelling all the way to his lips but you could see how small his sip was.
"oh don't praise her too much, her grades are not as sweet as she is." she laughed, and you swear to god you preferred to die than to listen to that talk. "perhaps you could teach her a bit? i'd be glad to pay you."
"mom!" you called out, turning to him and shaking your hands "don't listen to her, please. truly, i don't want to bother you."
"non-sense, i'd be glad to teach you. and it would be even better actually, i'd have the chance to review the content of our classes." he smiled sweetly to you, and you thought you could melt right away from how shaky your legs were. "when can we start?"
he asked you, not your mother. you. and for the first time you felt seen, you felt like your opinion mattered.
"tomorrow, eight p.m..?" you asked, your eyes felt so wide looking at him, and he laughed, nodding positively.
"i'll see you at the library, don't be late." he patted your head. it was a swift move, and you blinked rapidly as you saw him walk away.
so, now, on your first class together, snow kissed you deeply, his hand gripping hard on your waist as you kissed him back. you didn't even know how it came to that by this point, but right now, it was the fifth library study meeting you had with him and the teasing he was making you pass through was too torturing.
"tell me, dear. what's the answer?" he asked, kissing your inner thighs and making your body shiver.
"i-i don't... i-i can't think straight like that, coryo, i-" he sucked on the fabric of your wet panties, your body jolting as his lips made contact with your sensitive clit, sucking on it and letting it go with a delicious wet pop sound.
"you can do better than that, c'mon. what's the answer, dove?" he licked you entirely, from your cunt to your clit, right through your panties. "you know you're not dumb, you just need to think harder."
"i-i know, i just- ah-" you moaned a bit when he pulled your panties aside, blowing on your clit and chuckling at how wet you were. so sweet, so pretty, he couldn't help but suck on your cunt.
"you're so sensitive, you just need to answer me and i'll let you cum, c'mon." he rubbed your clit a bit, slowly, your tears appearing as you sobbed a bit. "how many people Panem have in it's entirety?"
"3.5 m..million, coryo." you moaned out, thrusting your hips forward. it was too brain-mushing. you were looking so dumb and he didn’t even touched you directly- only his tongue.
"wrong, dear." he smiled to your despair, his lips kissing your clit before he sat by your side, pulling you to sit on his thigh with your back turned to him. "it's 4.5 million. c'mon, you knew it."
his hands found your waist pretty quickly, guiding you to ride his thigh back and forth, his kisses on your neck made you pout at the whole thing. he was such a tease.
"another question, if you get it right, i have a reward to you, okay?" you nodded submissively while he pinched your nipple, you didn't recall when but his hand slyly travelled to your boob through inside your blouse. "how many districts panem originally had?"
it was terrible. your pussy was grinding on his thigh like you were a bitch in heat, his pants were getting damped by you and you were oh so sensible it seemed like a joke.
"t-thirteen." you answered, and he smiled proudly, giving your clit a light slap which made you jolt violently. he sat you prettily on the desk, pulling his cock out.
"see? when you want to do get something right, you can. you just have to desire it." he said, passing his tip through your smooth wet pussy, his dick getting coated with your juices. "now, let's do some more to see if you got it right, okay?"
"mhm." you hummed, lips red and glossy, a result of the overstimulation you were recieving.
"good girl. now, how long did panem exist before the dark days?" he asked, kisses being placed on your neck.
"i-i don't know- i... uh, t..twenty years?" you attempted, only to be answered with his cock slapping your pussy, making you mewl.
"god, you're such a whiny baby. it's okay, i'll teach you that later. want to try another question?" he asked you, his tip teasing your hole. you nodded frantically. "good. now, why does the hunger games exists?"
"i-it's a punishment to the districts- because of the rebellion. a-and the rebellion is the motive to why d..district 13 don't exists anymore." he kissed you, smiling at you while pushing his dick inside, making you melt away any kind of inteligence you still had.
"god, you're so tight-" he moaned, thrusting slowly into you. the slowest he was, the more you cried, begging and sobbing for release, trying to move your hips on his dick. "shh, calm down, dove. it's just a few seconds and we'll be all good to go, okay?" he smiled when you nodded, pathetic. "such a good bitch. i'll let you suck my dick later."
your eyes seemed to shine at it, your mouth felt like drooling. "t-truly?"
"uhum. you've been such a good girl, let's make this your reward, okay?" you nodded frantically.
"t-thank you." and he thrusted faster into you, his rhythm quickening up more and more to the point your breasts were bouncing and he couldn't help but suck on them, his mouth messily sucking your nipples and fondling them kindly.
"you're so good to me, i can't help myself around you knowing your pussy feels so good on my cock." he growled, lips brushing on your as he spoke, kissing you messily while you moaned into the kiss, your pussy squeezing on him and milking his cock. "you're already cumming? god you're so desperate." he chuckled, pulling out of you while you cried out, your pussy clenching, missing his dick.
however, your leg was on his shoulder already, while his mouth sucked your pussy just as eagerly as you wanted to suck his dick, your scent filling his senses while he nipped lightly on your clit making you grip on his hair, your warm gummy walls squeezing his two fingers into you, but of course, two fingers weren't the same as his dick.
but, to your pleasure, he had the perfect fingers to your pussy, thrusting them quickly on your pussy while you melt away, calling his name, trying to warn him.
"c-coryo, coryo! p-please- g-god, stop! stop! i-i n-need to pee- i-" he smiled on your cunt, you were so innocent sometimes, how could you not know that this was just your body wanting to squirt?
he opened his mouth, sucking more of you on him, you moaned and cried out, squirting on his mouth as he smiled at you.
"i-i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i didn't want to-" he pecked a kiss on your lips, chuckling as you licked it, tasting yourself.
"that's a squirt, baby. that's not piss." he said, putting his cock inside of your overstimulated pussy, filling you entirely. "you should've seen your face, so cute."
"t-that's not funny" you said, nails scratching his shoulders and neck while he thrusted faster into you.
"yes, it is. you looked like a whore, you know?" he kissed your temple, licking the tears on your cheek. "all needy and wet for my dick. as if i haven't fucked you yesterday too."
"'s because y-you're too mean!"
"mean? me? and how is it?" he thrusted faster, pinching your nipples and making you mewl your cries out.
"y-you're always teasing me, a-and your fingers, t-they're always teasing my pussy too. you know it!"
"i know." he chuckled. "i can't help it. you're always so pretty and dolled up for me, you can't blame me for fucking you when your pussy is milking my cock like that." he said, nibbling on your nipple.
"c-coryo, i-i think i'm gonna cum again" you warned, but he didn’t care, and even when you did cum, he kept going until his balls twitched, his cum filling you up while your eyes were squeezed shut and your mouth was all red from all the times you bit your bottom lip.
"god, such a pretty bitch." he whispered, making you shiver while he pulled alway and dressed you on your pathetic panties again. "you're gonna sleep with my cum inside you, okay? i want you to."
you nodded in a pathetically submissive way, too dumb to contest.
"dear! dear, y/n's report card is here!" your mother yelled to your father, making you mewl in discontempt as you got out of your room with coryo, who had to stop mid way to get your hair brushed by his fingers and quickly straight your clothes.
"oh my.." your father seemed surprise as he analysed your grades. proud, even. since he always seemed too unhappy with your grades.
"what is it?" your mother asked, looking over his shoulder.
"her grades are much better than ever, great heavens, i can't believe it. it's almost a miracle!" your father said, smiling proudly. "dear, i'll let you have your credit card back, you can buy whatever you want okay? daddy will buy your favorite cake later." he said, patting your head and turning to coryo. "boy, i need to thank you, how can i ever repay you?"
"you don't need to, sir. i'm glad to help your daughter anyway." he said, smiling as your father patted his shoulder. "i can keep on helping her if it is of your liking."
"yes, please. it would be incredible if you did." your father said, giving your report card to your mother, who squealed happily while hugging you and saying something about framing your report card in a gold rosé frame. "but i may ask, coryo.."
"yes?" he asked.
"how did you get her to memorize it? we hired the best particular teachers in the capitol and she never improved. how did you do it?" your father asked.
"ah... it is just a particular studying method i invented. i'm afraid it is a secret, sir." coriolanus laugh filled your ears, and you wanted to laugh too, but you licked your lips only, tasting his dick on your lips.
"i understand it. please keep doing the good job. i'm glad you're teaching my daughter." your father said, giving you two permission to go back to fucking studying.
when you arrived to your room, coryo locked the door and you immediatly dropped to your knees, unbuckling his pants as you salivated eagerly for him.
"i'm proud of you, dove." he smiled, caressing your hair as you smiled too, his cock slapping your face a bit once it got out of it's confines, but you didn’t care, next thing you knew was that your head was bobbing on his cock and your panties were fulfilled by the time he left.
#tbosas smut#young president snow#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x reader#the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x you#x you#x reader#dom coriolanus#dom character#sub reader
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goodnight moon
how spencer turns college!reader's bad sleeping habits into very good sleeping habits.
MDNI | smut! word count: 1931 warnings & tags & stuff: fem reader, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), slightest teensiest bit of overstim, fluff to the moon, spence and reader just being sweet, spence just being obsessed and concerned with every little thing about reader authors note: hiiii. soooo this is TERRIFYING. why is smut soooooo scary and vulgar. but i've been working on this one for a long while and i think i'm happyish with it??? idk. its not really adding anything new or revolutionary to the world but i think its cute!! lemme know your thoughts. i think smut is something i'll get better at writing with time but yk. okay whatever have a lovely day and i hope you enjoy!!
There’s a noticeable tension in your shoulders as you lay down on top of the covers of your bed. Your face crushes into the soft down of many pillows, nose buried into the crevices. You trace out the clean smell of Spencer's shampoo that manages to linger on your sheets even after a week of him being away on a case, the fragrance making your head become even heavier with each deep inhale you take.
You can physically feel the exhaustion clawing at your soul. Eyes shut, blocking out the harsh shine of the overhead light you definitely forgot to turn off, you reach your arm up to work on the knot in your shoulder. You roll it back, feeling an unsettling click that probably shouldn’t be there.
Spencer would be able to work the knot out like it was nothing, if he were here.
You shift your leg up, thinking. When did he say he’d be home earlier today? You had called him before your final exam this afternoon, for some encouragement and reminders on the principles of astronomy.
The all-consuming fog in your brain prevents you from remembering any of the important details of the conversation, such as when he’d be home, so you choose instead to just replay the soft I love yous he had said into your ear.
By this point you’re sprawled across a good portion of your bed, back to the ceiling with one leg bent, head turned to the side. Your spine sinks down into the mattress, relieving the aches just a bit, and the sweet, sweet release of sleep ensues minutes later.
Until it gets quite rudely interrupted.
You don’t hear him enter the room. You haven’t even opened your eyes to see him. The only thing you notice when you wake is the feeling that you’re being picked up from your hips and rotated, a complete 180.
“Hello?” you ask loudly even before your eyes open.
When they do open, they see your lovely boyfriend standing above you, grimacing like he’s been caught. Spencer’s hands are holding you mid air, and you look at him, wildly confused, as you blink away the sleep in your eyes.
He’s still wearing his work clothes, the thick sweater vest that you got him last year for his birthday layered over his button-up. He must have just gotten inside, his bag was still crossed over his body.
“Hi honey. What are you, um, doing?” you ask quietly. His nose scrunches in a cute attempt to push his glasses up his nose without using his already occupied hands.
“Hi. Sorry for waking you up.” He ducks down to kiss your forehead. “You just really shouldn’t be sleeping on your stomach. Bad sleeping posture can actually worsen chronic pain more than any other factor in your daily life,” he explains, setting you down but keeping a firm grasp on your waist. Your mouth forms an awkward little smile, matching his. “I had to intervene.”
“I know. It’s just so uncomfy. But why’d you pick me up? You could’ve just nudged me, or, you know, asked…” you grumble. You make room for him, however, as you speak. He sets his bag down and clambers into bed next to you, body seemingly rivaling yours in exhaustion. He leans against the headboard, turning his head to look at you.
“I wouldn’t normally do that, but I knew you were exhausted, so I figured you’d be less likely to wake up if your body was physically touching fewer things,” he justifies, logic drawing a soft giggle from you. You settle into a comfortable silence, the room still bathed in artificial light and Spencer still in his work clothes.
He eventually breaks the stillness after a minute, turning towards you. “How did your astronomy final go today?”
“I think I did alright. Our study sessions paid off, I think. But it was never my strong suit,” you reply, tracing your fingers over his leg. “I’m so achy now though. It’s strange what four hours of math can do to your body.”
His hand slides up your arm in response, lightly pressing on the tense spots.
“It’s strange what four hours of math and sleeping like a contortionist does to your body,” he corrects with his little know-it-all look, fingers circling a bit more firmly into your shoulder.
“I also really, really missed you,” you add, smiling back at him. “So be nice to me.”
“I missed you,” Spencer responds, even sweeter. “And I am being nice.”
You roll your eyes and he reaches over to kiss you gently. “Would you like me to be nicer?” he whispers softly. Your brain is all but short circuiting as you look at him, his eyes flitting between yours like he was searching the stars.
Your head is nodding even before you can actually realize what he means.
Then, his body is gone from yours. You stay silent, trying to regulate your breath, eyes following him as he stands and walks over to turn off the big light. Your eyes flicker to adjust, but with the moon’s gentle shine pouring into your window, it’s absolutely perfect.
A blush, that you're hoping the new darkness will conceal, creeps up your cheeks when you see the soft outline of Spencer’s back as he takes off his sweater vest and pulls at his tie. He turns back and looks at you, eyes all soft and full of adoration. “Yeah? Not too tired?”
“Nope,” you murmur, convincing yourself as much as him. He finishes getting into his PJ’s and walks back to you. You straighten your back, trying to appear as awake as possible. “I’m not.”
“Yes, you are,” he says back at you, voice gentle. “You can barely keep your eyes open.” A kiss, this one to your cheek, softens the blow of his words. You shake your head, but he continues. “You were sound asleep not even ten minutes ago, and you’ve yawned six times in the last five minutes.” His hand strokes the side of your waist.
“Spencer. I'm fine,” you huff. He smiles a little and sits next to you on the bed. His mouth is on yours, kissing you firmly, sweetly.
A hand, always in motion, always calculated, slides up to your nape and presses you closer. The other slides down and thumbs under the hem of your top, grazing lightly over your skin, making it erupt in goosebumps.
His brow scrunches softly. “You’re so worked up.”
You stay silent, begging him with your eyes. He dips down and kisses right where he touched, and your hips lift a bit in response.
“Honey. Lie back,” he says, and you do so. He readjusts his body so he’s on top of you, one leg slotted between yours. He kisses your forehead, cheeks, nose, and then moves down to your neck. He kisses that one spot beneath your ear that makes you gasp quietly. He then does it again, and again, and again, in that focused way of his.
Wordlessly, he slides down further. His nose bumps underneath your belly button, in the thin stripe of skin showing where your top meets your panties. “Okay?” he asks.
“Yes. Please. Please, Spence,” you whimper softly, head feeling like a cloud of gas from the endorphins. He peppers even more kisses there and ghosts his fingers over your hip bone. He slides your panties down an inch and immediately kisses the skin that’s revealed.
“I thought about doing this to you all the time while I was away,” he murmurs. He presses another kiss more firmly on your hips, even closer to your soaked core, sucking gently and leaving a mark. “These should be off by now,” he muses, gently pulling your underwear down.
His hand is immediately where you want it, two fingers pushing up against your folds, and to your clit. He touches in little circles, sending jolts of pleasure up your stomach, eyes looking up to yours to gauge your feelings.
You almost hate Spencer for how fucking good it feels. You let out a soft moan, heart pounding. And when his middle finger sinks into your entrance with no word of warning, you toss your head back and close your legs around his hand. Spencer’s mouth twists into that little smile of his, pushing ever so deep into you, and says, “It feels better when you keep your legs open, sweet girl. If you need more, tell me.” You nod immediately, desperately.
“Yeah. I need more,” you whisper, and he bends down and gives your clit a kitten lick. Your hand goes to his hair, softly pushing him closer. He gets the message and presses his tongue flat against it, eliciting a moan from you.
“You’re so pretty like this, under me. I missed you.”
You really do almost forget just how nice it was to have him on top of you after a week, telling you nice things and making you feel so good. He pushes his ring finger in to match his middle, stretching you slightly and adding pressure to where he knows it feels good. Your eyes screw shut and you furrow your brow in overwhelming pleasure, a soft exhale coming from deep within you.
“This good?” he asks, other hand coming to take care of your clit in his mouth’s absence. You nod frantically, looking down at Spencer. He watches where his hand comes in contact with you, pushing in and out at a steady pace. “You’re not normally this quiet. Is it a lot?”
“Yeah,” you whimper. “Feel so sensitive.” He presses a soft kiss onto your clit, and you jolt.
“Sweet girl. It’s been a little while, huh? Even right before I left, I didn’t use my mouth." You shake your head in agreement. “You’re doing so well for me though.”
He resumes with his tongue, working you into oblivion. His free hand holds your hips steady, hindering you from writhing away from the mind-numbing pleasure.
His mouth is occupied and your brain is utterly ruined, so the only noises coming from the two of you are your soft exhales and whimpers, and the obscene sound of his hand pushing incessantly into you.
And eventually it does, in fact, become too much. He sends you into orbit. You lift your hips, practically pushing yourself into his face, pleasure coursing through you.
“Spence, I’m. I-” your voice gets caught in your throat.
“I know,” he says, calm and collected. A stark contrast to whatever the fuck you’re feeling right now.
He keeps going in the same way, steadily driving you through your orgasm. You let out one last moan and your body relaxes and limps around him, chest moving up and down rapidly.
You come back to earth and grab his arm to tug him away. But he stays, pressing kisses all over you, watching you with his imploring eyes.
“You can take it. Missed you so much. Just one more,” he says in broken little sentences, parting with your core for just a second before resuming, hand picking up speed again. But this time, you don’t feel as awake. As alert. Your chest feels heavy, and your eyelids even heavier.
The post-orgasmic haze has settled even more into your bones, pressing you down deeper and deeper into the dark chasm of sleep once again.
The last thing you see before you succumb is the moon casting a perfect glow onto Spencer, still diligently pressing soft kisses onto you, holding your hips still so you won’t roll over in your sleep like before.
#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds#spencer reid fluff#fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#piper’s works
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☆ ❝ 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞? ❞ ⋆ hsr x reader
synopsis. whenever he wants to taste you so bad ...
warnings. cervix eating, afab!gn!reader, face sitting, dom!character, they/them pronouns are used on reader, squirting (done by reader), overstimulation, fingering
author's note. just finished a documentary on a serial killer then wrote an essay with my own free will
pairings. dan heng, blade, luocha, jing yuan, sampo, welt, caelus x afab!gn!reader / fem!reader (take this however you like because i still use they/them on reader but they're afab :p)
dan heng is just messy asf, like probably his first time too, never really has had gotten the chance to ever eat anyone out. kind of was too busy to do that. but when you offered, he couldn't help but think of how you'd be straddled atop his chest, and his tongue just went deeper and deeper into your sensitive hole, and honestly would slurp your aftermath all up after with no shame. the loud sounds of him licking up all your cum didn't help the embarassment. but he pushed his thoughts away and finally got you straddled onto his face, and pleasure was all that was on his mind. the taste of your sweet honey just made him wanna indulge so much deeper inside you. your velvety walls clenching around his snake-like tongue was a good enough sign he'd get to taste such sweet bliss again.
type of guy to overstimulate the hell outta you just for all that essence. he has never tasted anything better. probably would finger you while you sit on the motel bed you rented for a few measly 10 thousand credits. becomes so greedy when his mouth is finally latched onto your hole just begging for you to come. after a while of eating you out, he'll just know where your g-spot is, would go so far to even say his tongue memorized it, and the taste. and he just can't get enough of it. and after everyday as your trailblazing mission is ongoing, whether you'd be away from him at the moment or just right beside him, he already misses you and your pussy so much :(
caelus is def a big sweetheart about it. even though you think he wouldn't be the one to ask, he would. "hey i've been a little stressed lately, can you.. sit on my face and let me treat you right?", and can't help but be a little messy with it, when you finally are on top of him. your hole is right there, wet and ready for him. he's still so blushy, shy and nervous about it. but as soon as he gets a taste of such bliss, he can't help but get more, and more, and more. as soon as he felt your cum on his tongue he couldn't help but want more! he doesn't mean to overstimulate you :(( he just wants more of that tasty sweetness!
does it after trailblazing missions specifically, his thoughts do lowkey get to him while on the job, probably jerked off to the idea of eating you out, or you giving him a blowjob, but that's another story, for another day, not tomorrow, not the day after, some day. anyways, he definitely likes the idea of doing it publicly, the adrenaline of someone catching you in the bathroom with your boyfriend's mouth filled with lust and hunger, he'd keep going if that ever happened, literally just wants everything we can harvest out of you. at first he does like to tease with a bit of fingering and kitty licks while you're blindfolded. your thighs slowly choking him is such a relieving feeling to him, he can't wait to feel that exotic bliss on his tongue.
cw: public-ish sex
sampo will not hesitate to tease the living hell out of you, does it everyday, and any day. and is not shameful at all, will ask you to sit on his face with confidence. after all the teasing is over though he will be messy with it. lowkey wants you to fuck his face with your pussy slowly because it feels that good. his nose literally covered in your wetness because of how deep his tongue is in, or how your forcing his face to get closer, as you're ab to cum!! also the kind of guy to finger you while he eats you out.
loves doing it in an alleyway in belobog especially. just indulging the hell outta your pussy while others just watch as he marks what's clearly his. his gloved finger so deep inside you, so deep inside your pussy and he just had to have such long and slender fingers, as he kept licking your blushing clit, and he couldn't help but moan into your pussy too <33 the vibrations just sent all the more pleasure into you. after that, he'll forcibly grab your thighs and put them atop his shoulders as he also sat you down on 2 small boxes stack on each other and eats you out even more. not afraid at all to overstim your poor hole. but how can he resist such ethereal tasting bliss of yours? it tasted so good he just couldn't get enough!
welt is very straightforward. only word that comes to mind, no shame, maybe a bit, but will ask you himself with pleasure to ask you to sit ontop of his face, or at least just let him eat you out. he's been so stressed after that trailblazing mission.. he's just gotta eat somethingg.... and you can't deny him forever so one thing led to another, he's ravaging in the taste of your hole, god.. why was it just so fucking addicting? the sticky taste of the sweet little honey you produced made him wanna cum, he is indeed stroking his cock as he eats you out, he's just that kind of guy!!
more into doing it in private, prefers that only he hears how good his tongue makes you feel. so long, and it just felt so good, his nose getting covered in the sticky essence, he didn't care anymore, he just wanted more and more. but would probably ask you if he can overstimulate you more LOL. if himeko like ever just comes in without knocking, he'll literally growl, and she'll be out in a jiffy, just.. can't get the image of a hungry welt eating his s/o's pussy like a homeless man who hasn't ate in days... is just certainly shocked, calm, collected, and cool; welt yang, was so easily undone and broken by his s/o('s taste yum yum yum)..
jing yuan has no mercy at all, and will ask you so nonchalantly, "hey, can you sit on my face i'm kinda stressed ;(" is the first text you see when opening your phone. is this really the dozing general of luofu.. asks you so many times actually, like when he's bored and lazing around he'll just ask you to sit on his desk while he eats you out. but dear fucking god— whenever you just came all over his tongue, why the hell did that taste so damn good?? so good he would literally eat you out everyday if he could just to have that 'snack'. and he wouldn't want anyone else's, yours was special, that's what he said. and honestly i see him to be the type that his eyes glow when he gets closer to his climax, and he is another one of the cock stroking while eating you out gang!!
whatever anyway, he'll pound the hell out of your pussy after anyway, don't worry! it's just 'till you can't move a damn muscle in your legs, kind of guy to just want to hold you down by your hips, or the plush of your thighs, he just wants you to hold still while he drinks the devil's wine. if he isn't stroking his cock while he eats you out, his hard cock will just be out in the open while he fingers and eats you out too <3. eats you out like a snack literally sometimes, because he acts like he didn't just eat you out half the time. like after getting you cleaned up and everything, he literally would just start asking "you want anything for dinner?", "huh? it's 1pm in the afternoon jing yuan—"
blade is really rough when eating you out. messy and rough. type of guy to softly bite on your clit/really rub his tongue against that spot tbh HLP.. overall is confident, "hey babe can i eat you out rq im aboutta go out" "huh??". has your legs on his shoulders and roughly brings your hole to his mouth, all that juice on his tongue is really what makes him distracted from anything else, like even if anyone were to walk in on you both, he wouldn't care, your sultry moans and you cumming all over his face is all that mattered. will finger you and eat you out because he likes it when you squirt your cum out, is in love with the idea. and right after probably would put you into a mating press and insert his dick so smoothly inside there <3
the type to say i'll wash you up after eating you out but ends up having sex in the shower and literally pounds the shit out of your hole.. again.. in the bed this time.. he gives the first impression of high sex drive, breeding kink blade, what can i say? anyways, will just be so glad to slurp all your cum up after, in love with the scent, smell, taste, anything about you, and he'd gladly say it out loud. just keep cumming all over his face when he eats you out and little bladies will be running everywhere :0
luocha, even if he is a doctor of some sort, he is either so vanilla with it, just a few kitty licks and fingering you, or rough as fuck and messy, no in between because it's either he's gonna make you cum all over his face or cream on his face, doesn't want anything in between. will be glad to finger you if he feels like he wants your cum to just squirt everywhere, mmm just sit on his face and let him do the rest. doesn't care if his hair gets messy, doesn't care if he's supposed to be somewhere right now, he just wants more of this.. essence. whatever it is, he wants more. and won't be pleased if he hasn't milked you of all of it.
doesn't care if anyone decides to walk in on you both either, but that doesn't mean he prefers public sex. just prefers these moments to just him and you. probably also has a breeding kink. while he fingers you, right before he indulges himself in you, and gets too lost and drunk on the taste, he's already daydreaming of mini versions of him and you. loves the idea sm<33 and is glad you are pleased by the idea too!! so he hopes you don't mind his rock hard cock will pound you after a few 7 rounds of eating you out! just for you <3
can't take the word pussy seriously had to replace it with hole for that and because i want this to be for everyone/every reader!!
#⤷ ﹒ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა beep beep: a finished show! ♡#hsr x y/n#hsr x you#hsr smut#hsr x reader#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail smut#hsr x gender neutral reader#hsr x reader smut#blade smut#hsr blade x reader#blade x reader#dan heng smut#hsr dan heng x reader#dan heng x reader#jing yuan smut#jing yuan x reader#hsr jing yuan x reader#sampo smut#caelus smut#welt smut
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ᡣ𐭩 HE'S THE SERPENTINE, HE'S MY COLLAR!
FEATURING: dazai osamu
SUMMARY: you're finally back in yokohama after spending three years abroad dealing with mori's foreign business. the last person you want is to see dazai osamu, the wounds of his abrupt betrayal still too fresh for comfort. unfortunately, he decides to take matters into his own hands by showing up at your office in the middle of the night.
(wordcount: 7.1k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia executive!reader, f!receiving oral, gunplay, knife play (ish), spitting, pussy drunk!dazai (as always), light choking, overstim, office sex, semi-public/public sex, unprotected sex, switch!dazai, switch!reader, undertones of angst (happy ending). lmk if anything is missing!)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: guys. GUYS. i had so much fun writing this, this is finally usurping in paper rings and picture frames as my fav fic that i've written. HAHAHH. i hope you guys like it too!!
You hear the door to your office swing open, and you press your lips together tightly, irritation swimming through your head as your grip tightens on the pen you’re using to fill out your paperwork. It’s already late—you’re tired and your head hurts, but you can’t leave the building until Akutagawa comes to hand you the report for his failed mission so you can pass it up to the boss. And you know that whichever subordinate this is, it’s definitely not Akutagawa because the boy would rather claw his own throat out than walk into your office without knocking.
Which means it’s some upstart new recruit who has no manners and is likely going to make your night worse. You think being away for so long did some real damage to your reputation—three years ago, the lower ranked mafiosos avoided your floor like the plague, they didn’t barge in like they owned the place, but then again, you also had a certain dark-haired executive (ex-executive now, you remind yourself bitterly) lurking around your floor constantly trying to get your attention, and if people weren’t nervous enough about you, they were definitely terrified of him.
“Five seconds to explain why you came into my office without knocking or I’m putting a bullet through your fucking skull,” you say, voice acerbic, not even bothering to look up, the fingers of your free hand closing around the gun you have holstered at your side.
“There’s a few too many cameras in the hall for my liking to stand out there and wait for you to open the door.”
The fact that he manages to dodge the bullet shot in his direction is testament to his skill, but you’ve known Dazai Osamu long enough to know that when he dodges to the side, nine times out of ten, he dodges left, so you drop your pen as soon as you pull the trigger and swipe the knife laying haphazardly on your desk, launching it in his direction. You watch as his eyes widen just a bit when it impales the wall right next to his ear, just barely nicking his skin—both a warning and a threat.
“My, my, bella, you’ve gotten faster the past few years,” Dazai grins, unperturbed, smile as reckless and lazy as the day he left four years ago as he plucks the knife from the wall. “I’ve missed you too.”
“What the hell are you doing here, Dazai?” you ask, voice cold and sharp as your finger rests against the trigger of your gun. “How did you get up here?”
“Security’s gotten lax since I’ve been gone, I guess,” Dazai shrugs, but his eyes dance with mirth as he makes his way over to your desk. “You should probably do something about that.”
“Dazai,” you say, keeping your voice low and trying to reign in your temper. There are no cameras in your office, but the hall leading here is littered with them, hidden ones that were recently installed that he wouldn’t know about, if any one of them caught his face and it’s reported to Mori… “You think I won’t drag your ass to Mori myself? What the fuck are you doing?”
You’d have to, or it would be your head on the line for betraying the Port Mafia—you know better than anyone the treatment that traitors get, considering you were the one that dealt with them up until you were sent abroad three years ago to handle Mori’s foreign politics.
“I don’t know, will you?” Dazai counters, head tilted to the side as he takes a seat on top of your desk next to you, a smile on his face that makes you think he knows something that you don’t.
“Maybe,” you answer, finger twitching on the trigger as you keep your gun pointed in his direction.
Dazai is completely unbothered, leaning down until his nose is nearly brushing yours, lips tugged up in an unbearable smirk.
“Then do it,” he challenges, and you glare at him, jaw tight and eyes hard. He reaches out, fingertips brushing your skin, and you feel like you’re on fire beneath his touch. You hate that your body still betrays you to him. “Don’t look at me like that, bella. I won’t even resist, I promise, as long as you promise to be the one to put a bullet through my skull, so your face can be the last thing I see. Ah, that would be a lovely death, wouldn’t it?”
“You’re a fucking freak, Dazai,” you spit out, but make no move to get up or grab your phone. “What is wrong with you?”
Dazai doesn’t respond, only winking at you. Instead, his gaze shifts to the side and his hand drops from your face to his lap again. You hate even more that you miss his touch immediately.
“You still have my couch,” Dazai notes to himself quietly, an odd tone to his voice as he stares at the dark couch in the far corner of your office, where he’d bundle himself up under blankets to avoid Chuuya, because Chuuya used to avoid your office like the plague when the three of you were younger.
“It’s my couch,” you say tightly, even though you know no one has touched it since Dazai left, and the ugly orange blanket he liked so much is still draped over the back of it, and it probably still smells like him. Your throat feels swollen, and you steel away your emotions and continue with, “I’ve hardly been back here since you left, anyway. What do you want, Dazai?”
“I heard you were finally back in Yokohama,” he says. “I wanted to see you.”
“Fuck off,” you say roughly. “So you decide to break into the main base of the Port Mafia and come all the way up to my office? You know where my apartment is, you could’ve shown up there. What do you really want?”
“It’s the truth,” Dazai says easily, and his dark eyes meet yours—both of them, you note, and wonder when he decided to shed the bandages that covered his right eye. “I was at your apartment for a bit, I got impatient and came here instead.”
He’s telling the truth.
Oh, you realize—the clogged feeling in your throat is coming back, you force it away again and lean back in your chair, looking away from him to turn your gaze to the window. It’s well past midnight already, the moon is high in the sky and the stars are glittering above. In the distance, you can see the Ferris Wheel of Cosmo World glowing a bright purple color and a string of flashing red and blue lights as the police chase after someone.
“Why?” you ask finally, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over the two of you.
“I told you,” Dazai says quietly, and your eyes turn back to him. He looks… happier, you can’t help but note. A sick part of you feels jealous—you’re not sure if you’re jealous because he’s free and you’re still stuck in this place, or if you’re jealous because he’s happier and he’s happier in a life without you. You think it might be the latter. “I miss you.”
“Don’t give me bullshit, Dazai,” you snap, still trying to push away all of the feelings you’ve repressed for so long. “Get out of here before you find yourself killed. I’m not going to turn you in, but I’m not saving you if you get caught.”
“It’s not bullshit,” Dazai tells you, voice sharp in a way that it only ever is when he’s starting to get annoyed. “I-”
A knock at your door cuts Dazai off mid-sentence. Both of you freeze, Dazai looks at you as if waiting to see what you’re going to do, and you can so easily finish this now, let whoever is at your door in and drag Dazai back down to the torture room where he belongs, but instead you find yourself reaching for him. Your hand intertwines with his hair roughly, and you revel a bit in the hiss that escapes his lips as you yank him off the desk and roll your chair backward, kicking the back of his knee so that he crumples to the ground and you can push him beneath your desk.
You lower your gun to your lap so you can keep it pointed at him and then glance down at him—he looks caught off-guard and disgruntled at being manhandled, but you think it's a bit funny how cramped he looks under there.
“Not a single word,” you warn before fixing your chair and raising your voice. “Come in.”
Akutagawa wastes no time stepping into your office, nodding his head in respect as he makes his way over to the chair on the opposite side of your desk, a bundle of papers in hand. He doesn’t hand you the pile right away and he looks uncharacteristically nervous, and you raise your eyebrows, wondering what the issue is.
“I am… unsure how to fill out some of the report,” Akutagawa says, unable to meet your eyes as he stares at the windows behind you. “The operation was… not a failure but not a success. The whole mission was in disarray, I do not know who was doing what at certain points.”
You stare at Akutagawa. “What do you want me to say to that?” you ask him, leaning back in your chair. “It’s your job to know that as the field officer for the mission. If you can’t handle that, Hirotsu will take back the position on the next major operation.”
Akutagawa bristles. “I can handle it,” he says, voice clipped. “This mission was just more chaotic than-”
“Than usual?” you ask idly, watching as he stiffens as your interruption. “This was child’s play, it’s unlike you to make excuses, Akutagawa.’
“I’m not making excuses,” he says immediately, “but…”
Akutagawa continues talking, but your attention is ripped away when you feel Dazai shift beneath the desk. You press your lips together tightly, stiffening as his hands rise to your thighs, spreading them a bit so he can settle between them. You glance down, he’s already peeking up at you, dark eyes glittering in a way that has you on edge.
Don’t you dare, you warn silently, but Dazai only takes it as further encouragement, pressing his lips to your clothed inner thigh, you can feel the warmth and wetness through your slacks. It takes all of your self-control to not inhale sharply when he starts trailing open-mouthed kisses up your thigh until his mouth is hovering right above your cunt.
You press the muzzle of your gun against his temple.
He smiles.
Your jaw clenches as he licks a long stripe between your legs through your slacks, making sure to press his tongue down hard over where your clit is hidden through your clothes. Akutagawa is still talking, oblivious to what’s happening beneath your desk as he airs his complaints about the mission. You could stop Dazai, place your foot on his shoulder and push him off of you, but you don’t, notably—you don’t want to acknowledge that though. You only vaguely hear Akutagawa’s issues, something about interference from a third party—the SDUP? What the hell were they doing there?— and Kajii blowing up an escape route.
“Give me the report,” you say, cutting him off mid-sentence, and holding out your hand. You’re grateful that your voice comes out steadier than you feel with Dazai trying to tongue fuck your through your pants.
As you lean forward to rip the papers from Akutagawa, you tense, feeling something sharp press against your inner thigh. Sitting back in your seat and glancing down, your eyes cut down to Dazai, who still has the knife you’d thrown at him and is using it to cut open your very expensive slacks.
You have half a mind to drive your foot into his face, but you refrain. If only barely.
It’s a miracle that you can keep your breath steady, because as Dazai cuts your pants, he kisses every inch of open skin that’s revealed to him. His lips are warm, wet, familiar—so familiar that your legs are instinctively spreading for him, giving him more room to work.
Your eyes scan the report but the words are just jumbled letters and not making any sense. Every time you try to understand, you feel Dazai’s teeth graze your thigh as he marks up your skin. You tense when you feel him bring the knife much closer to your cunt, to finish cutting off the material—you press the muzzle of your gun harder into the side of his head, warning him to be careful. You glance down only to see a hazy smile on his lips as he winks up at you, as if he’s drunk just off of the idea of what’s about to happen.
He works efficiently as always, freeing your lower body of your slacks and panties as quickly as possible, and he wastes no time burying his face between your legs. Your lashes flutter and the grip you have on your pen tightens dangerously, you think it might snap. Dazai’s tongue slides between your folds, lapping up the slick that had begun to pool—you know that if Akutagawa wasn’t sitting a few feet away, Dazai would be making a snide comment about how he knew you wanted him.
Dazai’s tongue flicks over your clit—you can feel him staring up at you, watching for every little reaction, the way your lip tightens as you bite back moans, the way your eyelids unconsciously start to slide shut, the way your breath is just a bit heavier than it usually is.
This is so dangerous, you think to yourself desperately. If Akutagawa of all people figures out that Dazai is here-
You nearly choke when Dazai shifts a bit underneath the desk to kneel at a better angle, grateful that Akutagawa seems to be too busy wallowing in his own mistakes to notice your struggle. Your gaze snaps down again, his eyes have fluttered shut as he buries his face deep into your cunt, nose pressed to your clit as he pushes his tongue into your hole and you can feel the way he lets out a silent, but shaky breath, barely holding back a moan.
You notice his free hand slide from where it was propped on your thigh down to his beige pants, fingers fumbling with the button as he desperately tries to slip his hand beneath his waistband to touch himself. You kick his wrist hard, using your foot to pin it against the side of your desk, watching him wince and withdraw his hand, looking up at you with those big brown eyes you can never say no to.
God, he’s pathetic, his lashes are wet and his cheeks are flushed, eyes glossed over with pleasure as he looks up at you and you know you’ll let go of his wrist if he looks at you like that any longer, so you turn your gaze back up to Akutagawa, who’s staring at his lap and waiting for you to finish the report.
“Get out,” you tell him, voice sharper than you intended. Akutagawa’s eyes snap up to you, brows furrowed in confusion. “Go, I’ll handle this.”
“But-”
“Your job is to take orders, not question them,” you bite out, watching frustration flash across the boy’s face as he rises to his feet. You’re not usually this harsh with the kid, but you’re not sure how much longer you’re going to last and Akutagawa cannot be in here when you cum. You can feel the heat pooling in your stomach and that familiar hazy feeling clouding your mind. “Out, Akutagawa.”
Akutagawa inhales sharply but nods, turning stiffly on his heel to leave your office. As soon as the door to your office clicks shut, Dazai is pushing the chair backwards until the back of it hits the windows behind you, shifting into a more comfortable position as he resumes fucking you with his tongue in earnest.
He moans into you, wanton and shameless, any restraint he had because of Akutagawa’s presence is long gone. While he was careful to not make noise before, now the sloppy sound of his tongue dragging in and out of your cunt drowns out any other noise in your office, he sucks and slurps, he’s so disgusting, like he can’t get enough of the taste of you, a man who’s been starved for years.
The knife clatters to the ground as he reaches up with both hands to grab your thighs, sliding them over his shoulders so he can push his tongue even deeper inside of you. Only sheer pride drives you to push away the creeping fog as Dazai’s tongue slides back up between your folds to draw figure eights around your clit.
“I should pull the fucking trigger, pulling this shit when he was in here,” you spit out, head falling back as a breathy noise escapes your parted lips when Dazai sucks gently at your clit. He moans again, as if the idea itself turns him on—it probably does, he’s always talked about wanting to die between your thighs. “You’re a fucking freak, Dazai.”
He lets out a puff of air, you can’t tell if it's a laugh or another moan, maybe a mixture of both, but he’s too focused on drowning in your cunt to respond. Four years without him and you’ve forgotten just how good Dazai is with his tongue, working your body as easily as he did when the two of you were eighteen and seeking each other out before meetings and between missions for a quick fuck. You hate it—you hate that he’s treating you as if nothing has changed and you hate even more that your body is this responsive to him.
Betrayal, you think, your own body betrays you for him. Again.
“Fuck,” you gasp the word out when Dazai rolls your clit between his teeth gently, sending a jolt through your body that throws you off just enough for that fog you’ve been fighting off to finally win. You choke over a moan, head pressed back against your desk chair, forearm coming up to press against your forehead as your eyes slide shut. Your free hand finally finds its place in his hair, tightening around his dark locks, he lets out a whimper against you, tongue flicking over your clit. “Like that. Just like that.”
You can hardly keep your head on straight as he traces letters around the sensitive bud, you try to figure out what he’s spelling but you’re too far gone. Your head is light and your chest is heaving. You’re barely able to bite back moans as your thighs tighten around his head, hips rocking against his face. You don’t even know if he can breathe, you don’t think you care, so close to the edge that your entire body is tingling and trembling; you don’t think he cares either from the way he’s moaning into you.
It takes one last suck, one last swirl around your clit, and you’re crying out his name, spots dotting your vision as your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face impossibly deeper into you as you grind your hips against his face. God, it feels never-ending, a noise too close to a sob nearly escapes your lips as Dazai ardently laps up all of your cum, not letting a single drop go to waste. You can’t remember the last time you’ve cum this hard—with him, probably, you realize bitterly. None of the one-night stands you’ve had over the past few years have ever compared to him.
You’re still reeling even as you force yourself to straighten in your seat, not willing to let him know just how badly you’re thrown off by how intense your orgasm was. Your head is still spinning, vision still blurring, but you lift your leg and press your foot to Dazai’s shoulder, kicking him back and forcing him out from his position between your thighs.
He grunts, looking thoroughly disgruntled as he falls back on his ass, pouting up at you as he tries to catch his breath. He looks debauched, lips swollen and wet, your cum smeared on the lower half of his face. His cock is straining against his beige pants and his eyes are still glazed over; he’s looking up at you with an expression that’s nothing short of reverent.
God, he’s gorgeous.
You hate him.
You’ve missed him.
You shift in your seat and Dazai is lifting himself to his knees, immediately leaning closer, a hazy smile on his lips as he angles his face up and pointedly parts his lips, sticking his tongue out. You know what he wants and the heat that had been slowly dissipating returns with a vengeance, breath catching as you look down at him.
“You’re gross,” you tell him, watching the corner of his lips quirk up even as he keeps his tongue out and waiting.
You don’t deny him. You never can.
You shift forward, rising to your feet and reaching out to grab his chin, angling your face down. Your grip is too tight, it’ll leave bruises behind and you think that’s the least he deserves so you only tighten it a bit more as you lean over him. You don’t give him what he wants, not right away, letting the saliva gather on your tongue as you observe him, the way his pupils are blown wide and his chest is hardly rising and falling, as if he can’t even let himself breathe in anticipation.
Disgusting, you think again, but it’s fond this time, much to your displeasure.
You decide to put him out of his misery, letting the spit dribble from your mouth down to his. His eyes roll back as soon as it hits his tongue, and your hand slides from his chin to curl around his neck—not tight, just firm enough to feel the way his throat bobs as he swallows.
He lets out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering back open as he looks up at you, entirely blissed out. Your hand slides down more, curling around the ugly bolo tie he’s wearing in place of the black one you’re used to. You tug it hard, beckoning him to his feet; he acquiesces, albeit on shaky legs.
Immediately, his hands find your hips as he pushes you against your desk, spinning you around to face it before his hand presses between your shoulder blades, pushing you down to bend you over it. Your eyes widen at the sudden change in demeanor, something you’ll never be able to get used to no matter how many times you fuck him; it always caught you off guard back then, it still catches you off guard now. He pulls off the remnants of your destroyed slacks and immediately is grinding his bulge against your ass, a low moan spilling from his lips.
“How many people have you been with?” he suddenly asks, and you can hear him fumbling to unbutton his own pants. There’s an edge to his voice that you don’t like—something caught between jealousy and possessiveness, and you nearly want to scoff at it.
“What the fuck, Dazai?” you spit out, appalled and not expecting the question. “None of your damn business.”
You turn your head to the side to rest your cheek on the desk, looking back at him from the corner of your eye. His eyes are still a bit hazy but there’s a tight expression on his face, reminiscent of the one that would be directed toward you whenever he stumbled in on you entertaining anyone other than him years ago.
“Humor me,” he says, voice cold and eerily familiar. If you weren’t looking at him and if you couldn’t see the tan coat and bolo tie, you’d think you were talking to Dazai Osamu, Port Mafia Executive, and not Dazai Osamu, Detective.
“A lot,” you finally tell him, feeling the way he stiffens behind you. “I don’t keep count. You?”
You think he has some nerve asking when he’s probably slept around t-
“None.”
“Bullshit,” you snarl immediately. “How many? Don’t fucking lie to me, Dazai.”
“None,” he says again, gaze lifting from your back to meet yours, his eyes are dark—too dark, too still. Maybe he hasn’t changed as much as you assumed, because the way your chest swells with a confusing mixture of fear and arousal is far too familiar. “You’re the only one allowed to touch me.”
His gaze drags back down, with his pants unbuttoned, he lifts his free hand to caress the swell of your ass, a contemplative expression on his face as he stares down at you, his other hand still pinning you down to your desk. If your heart wasn’t thudding in your ears from sheer anticipation, you’d be irate over the fact that you were letting Dazai Osamu fuck you over your own desk in your own office, but you can’t bring yourself to care now.
“They never made you feel like this.” It’s a statement, not a question, and you want to scoff at his arrogance, but you can’t because he’s right. “They don’t know your body like I do.”
This time you do scoff. “You don’t know shit, Dazai. It’s been four years.”
Dazai’s eyes flicker back up to you, the way his lips curve up into a smile is dangerous.
“No?” he questions.
A challenge. You never back down from one, not from him.
“No.”
His smile sharpens.
“I know that after you cum for the first time,” he murmurs, rolling his hips forward. You bite back a moan when you feel the tip of his cock slip between your folds. “The second time comes right after.”
True to his words, your jaw falls slack and your entire body seizes as Dazai thrusts into you, splitting you right open on his cock. The moan he lets out is pornographic, and you wish you could see the way his head falls back and his eyes roll into his skull, but your own vision is white and you’re choking over a sob as you feel the familiar stretch of his cock against your walls.
“There you are.” Dazai has the nerve to let out a breathless laugh and another groan as he stills with his hips flush to your ass, feeling your walls spasm around him as you cum just from the feeling of him pushing inside of you. The hand he has placed between your shoulder blades slides up to curl around your throat. With a firm grip, he pulls you up so only your thighs are pressed against the edge of your desk, back flush to his chest as you gasp, reeling from the suddenness of your second orgasm. You can feel him smile as he nudges his nose against the side of your head, lips pressed to your ear. “The third time takes a bit after the second, but I’ll fuck you through it. Maybe a fourth too.”
“Dazai,” you gasp, eyes blown wide as your head falls back against his shoulder. You don’t know what you’re trying to say, maybe hold on, or wait, because you know you’ll embarrass yourself if he doesn’t give you a second to recover.
He hums in response, and the slow rolls of his hips, the drag of his cock against your walls, it has your head in the clouds, body trembling. Your lips part to speak but no words leave them, and right when you think you can finally force the words out, Dazai draws his hips back and snaps them back against yours hard. Your lips part in a silent moan, only the hand around your throat and the one pressed to your lower belly holds you up as Dazai fucks you at a brutal pace.
His face drops to the crook of your neck, he moans into your skin, teeth scraping hard as he kisses recklessly up and down every available inch. He’s going to leave marks, you realize, and that’s dangerous now that you’re back in Yokohama because you don’t need any of the other executives to get suspicious, but even if you wanted to tell him not to, you don’t think you’d be able to. Whatever little coherency you had left in your thought process does not translate when you try to speak, the only things leaving your lips being shaky moans and gasps of Dazai’s name.
“Made for me,” Dazai groans. His grip on your throat tightens just enough to make the air you breathe in shallow, your head feels light and you’re not sure if it’s because of his grip or if it’s the feeling of his cock bullying so deep into you that you can feel his tip pressing up against your cervix. “Waited so many years for this, feels even better than I remember, pussy’s made for me, isn’t it?”
Dazai babbles into your ear as he fucks you, tongue just as filthy and unbridled as the day he left. Shameless. He’s so shameless. Doesn’t even care that anyone could walk into your office and catch the two of you; doesn’t care that if anyone does, he’ll end up executed. He’s fucking you in a building full of people that want him dead and all he cares about is how your cunt feels wrapped around his cock.
Your breath hitches as Dazai shifts you to bend over just a little more, still keeping your back flush to his chest but fucking you at a new angle—one that nearly sends you spiraling over the edge for a third time.
“Gonna give me your third now?” he pants. His hand on your lower stomach slips down, lithe fingers dipping between your folds to search for your clit—your back arches against him when he finds it, a sob spilling from your lips, vision swimming with tears. Dazai laughs again, this one is strained, catching over a moan as your walls convulse around him. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so tight.”
Unconsciously, his grip on your throat tightens, cutting off even more air. You can hardly breathe, you can hardly think—each thrust of his hips has your head spinning, ripping the little air you can inhale right out of your lungs. The tip of his cock rubs against that spongy spot inside of you every time he snaps his hips against yours, the quick circles he rubs on your clit are electrifying.
Your cheeks are wet, breath ragged, vision spotty. One last thrust, one last circle, and you’re wrecked, sobbing out his name as your legs give out, only held up by the way he has your thighs pinned to your desk and his hand on your neck. You cum all over his cock so hard that you think you black out for a second, your mind fuzzy and pins and needles pricking all over your body.
Dazai doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your third orgasm, relishing in the way your body twitches and trembles, too sensitive for his touch.
“Your fourth will come quick,” he gasps. His pace is erratic now, chasing his own release. Your ears are ringing, heartbeat thudding in your ears, the wet, sloppy sound of his cock driving in and out of you resounding through your office. “I don’t think I’ll last for five. Shit, shit, I’m close.”
You have to force yourself to move. You want to see him when he finishes. Your hand wraps around his wrist, nails digging into his skin to try to get his attention. It takes all of your will power to push the two words from your lips: “Flip me.”
He does. Without any sort of hesitation, his hand drops from your throat to your waist. His cock slips out of you for a split second and your cunt aches at the loss, but Dazai is immediately pushing himself back into you as he hoists you up by the thighs, sitting you down on your desk and wrapping your legs around his waist.
Even through your blurry vision, Dazai is a fucking sight. His dark hair is matted to his forehead, pink lips swollen and wet, cheeks flushed. His eyes glazed over and half rolled back as he chases his high. God, he’s stunning. You’ve missed him. You’ve missed him.
You’re not thinking as you lift your hand to cup his cheek, sliding around to the back of his head to pull his face down to yours, moving on pure instinct. You drag him down to press your lips against his and Dazai is gone. The moment your lips touch his, he’s moaning into your mouth, hips stuttering against you as he spills his cum deep inside of you, and he’s right, because the moment you feel his cum filling you up, warm and thick, so much of it that you can feel it dribbling around his cock, the stickiness smearing against your thighs and ruining your desk, you’re pushed over the edge for the fourth time.
This one is weaker than the rest, not a single noise escapes you but your jaw goes slack and Dazai whimpers into your mouth when he feels your walls tightening around him again. But he takes advantage of your pliancy, pushing you back gently so that your back is flush to your desk. He follows you down, keeping his chest pressed to yours as he maps out your mouth with his tongue. He rolls his hips against yours, slow and deep, fucking his cum deeper into you as the two of you slowly come down from your highs. He slants his lips against yours to deepen the kiss, hand coming up to cup your cheek, his other sliding up and down one of your thighs.
It’s too intimate. You tell yourself that you only let it happen because you’re reeling from overstimulation but you know it's a lie.
You don’t even know how long you stay in that position with him. It could only be a few seconds, a few minutes, it could’ve been an hour for all you know, laying on your desk with him pressed on top of you, kissing you so passionately that it makes your head spin as much as the orgasms did.
Finally, you press your hand against his shoulder, signaling for him to get off of you. He does, albeit with a reluctant sigh. You stare up at the ceiling as Dazai shakily rebuttons his pants, making his way over to the closet where you still keep your spare clothes from when you have to stay over at the office to work.
What did you do?
You’re hyper aware of how swollen your lips are, of the marks littering your neck, of the cum dribbling out of your cunt, staining your desk.
If anyone finds out about this-
You don’t get to finish the thought, because Dazai comes back over to you. Neither of you speak as he takes a tissue to clean up his cum from your thighs and as it dribbles out of you, nor do you speak when he shifts you into a sitting position, helping you pull on a new pair of panties and a new pair of slacks.
He stands in front of you, dozens of indecipherable emotions rocketing across his face as his dark eyes search your expression for something. You don’t know what, and you don’t even want to look at him but you can’t draw your gaze away from him.
After what feels like forever, he finally speaks.
“I missed you,” he says, voice hoarse as he lifts a hand to cup your cheek.
You turn away from his touch, ignoring the hurt that flashes through his eyes.
“Why don’t you believe me? You think four years has changed how I feel about you? I thought you knew me better than that.”
“It’s been four years,” you say, and you hate that your voice wavers a bit. You blame it on still being hazy after your orgasm but you know it’s a weak excuse. You hate that he still has this effect on you after all these years. You hate that you always give into him, and you hate that you know you’ll never get enough of him. You want to hate him, but you can’t. “Knowing how to fuck me isn’t the same as knowing me as a person. I barely know you anymore. You barely know me. And it’s not like you were open with how you felt four years ago. So, forgive me if it’s a bit hard to believe, Dazai.”
“You wear the same perfume. You still shoot with your non-dominant hand for some god forsaken reason. Your lips still twitch whenever you get annoyed even though you do your best to stop it. You-”
“Stop.”
“You still talk to me like you hate me even though your eyes are all soft and you’re leaning in toward me.” Dazai doesn’t stop, and to your horror, he’s right—you had begun to lean in to him instinctively as he spoke. You try to shift away from him, but he follows, fingers grazing your cheek, chest brushing yours. You don’t pull away this time. “I still wear the same cologne you bought me for Christmas because it reminds me of you—I spent two months trying to figure out where you bought it when it first ran out. I don’t carry a gun around as often, but when I do, I still try to do that stupid flipping trick you tried to teach me when we were seventeen—I still can’t do it, almost shot myself in the knee last time I tried.”
The laugh he lets out at the last sentence is hollow. He hesitates, as if he wants to continue but isn’t sure if he should. You can feel his blunt nails scraping gently against your skin, his palm warm against your cheek. You want to pull away but you’ve missed him, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, and you find yourself sinking into his touch. You’ve always questioned why Mori sent you away for so long, angry because you figured he thought you were weak when it comes to Dazai and he didn’t want to risk anything.
Only a few days back in Yokohama, and you’re already proving him right.
“I’m not the same person,” you tell him, something desperate edges at your tone. Desperate to convince him, or yourself, you’re not sure.
“I still love you,” he rasps, voice quiet as if he’s scared to admit it even to himself, and your heart is suddenly lodged in your throat as you stare up at him with wide eyes, the words he refused to tell you back when you were teens ringing through your head over and over again. “I’ve always loved you. Thought about you every day. I missed you so much.”
“I should hate you,” you say, swallowing thickly, unshed tears blurring your vision. “You didn’t even say goodbye. When Mori said you defected in the middle of a mission, I laughed in his face. Not because I didn’t think you’d never betray the Port Mafia, but because I didn’t think you’d ever leave me without saying anything.”
“If I said goodbye to you, I never would have left,” Dazai tells you quietly, the admission echoing in your years. “And I had to leave. I had to.”
“I should hate you,” you repeat, voice a bit weaker now, and you feel pathetic for falling apart like this in front of him. But it’s Dazai, he’s always had this effect over you. You suppose some things haven’t changed, because that certainly hasn’t.
“I know,” he murmurs.
You inhale deeply, shaking your head as you push yourself off your desk and straighten out your clothes, trying to get your head back on straight. You should’ve known better than to think you’d be able to come back to Yokohama and pretend that Dazai Osamu didn’t exist, for better or for worse, the two of you would always find your way back to each other. Mori was right to send you away, although you suppose the man is rarely wrong anyway.
Dazai doesn’t say anything, watching you with an unreadable expression as you search through the ruined piles of paper on your desk for the report that Akutagawa had handed you. Your eye twitches when you realize that it’s stained, realizing that you’re going to have to rewrite the whole thing because you can’t submit a cum-stained report to Mori.
Dazai snorts behind you, as if realizing your predicament. The look you give him is lethal, he silences himself quickly.
“Don’t get yourself killed on the way out,” you tell him, grabbing your black jacket off your chair and swinging it over your shoulders as you look back at him. “If you make it out of here alive, I’ll see you at my apartment later. Then we can talk.”
His face twists. “What? Wait, don’t leave me here,” he panics, nearly tripping over his feet and your desk chair to follow after you. “Help me sneak out.”
“You got in here yourself,” you say dismissively. “Get out yourself.”
The noise he lets out is pathetic. “You do hate me,” he accuses.
“No, I could never,” you admit quietly. His expression softens a bit, but you give him a sharp smile. “But I’m definitely not going to make things easy for you. Akutagawa is still out here prowling around. So is Chuuya, actually. Said he’d be at the office all night today. Good luck, you’re gonna need it.”
#dazai x reader#dazai x you#dazai smut#dazai osamu x reader#dazai osamu smut#dazai osamu x you#bsd x reader#bsd x you#bsd smut#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs smut#bungo stray dogs x you
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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?
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