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indecisivemuch · 7 months

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Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: A certain hospital equipment exposed Luke's feelings for you (funny, fluff, friends to lovers, banter dynamic, minor injuries, happy ending).

Note: I’m sorry if this is not as good as my other works, writers block + being sick has been killing me.

Word count: 2.7k

It was somewhat strange at first to see Luke in normal clothing rather than that bright orange camp shirt that you’ve grown so familiar with. But after spending four days outside of camp and on a quest together, you’ve actually somewhat grown fond of the sight. You could still vividly remember the moment he picked you as his quest companion without an ounce of hesitation. It wasn’t surprising, considering you two have always made a good team, a likely result of training with each other for three years straight. Nevertheless, it warmed your heart that you were his first pick.

“Are you okay?” You asked inspecting Luke's wound as he sat against a tree and sighed in relief when you realized the cut was not too deep.

Just a couple of minutes back, you two were walking through the forest and on your way to the nearest bus stop that could take you back to camp. However, the universe must have thought the long journey was not enough of suffering because somehow, you two came across a chimera that managed to claw your arm and Luke in the abdomen.

“It’s not too bad. I think we can still make it to the last bus if we just quickly wrap your wounds up,” you noted.

Meanwhile, all Luke could do was watch you. He knew he should be listening, but how could he when you were so attentive to him at that moment? He hungrily took in the way you were taking care of him in such a worried manner as if you were his personal guardian angel. Part of him wanted to soothe your worries, but he selfishly wanted to enjoy it this time because it was for him.

“Hey, did you hear what I said?” you asked when you didn’t hear a reply. You turned towards Luke, but was quickly caught off guard.

There was something sincere and sweet about the way he was staring at you. However, somewhere along three years of knowing him, you have concluded that Luke Castellan must have made it one of his life missions to annoy you because he has never passed up on any opportunities for flirty antics just to see you grow flustered. Hence, you ignored how he was gazing at you, though you scowled at yourself internally upon feeling your cheeks warm up.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you forced out.

“Like what?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Luke almost chuckled at how you started blushing from just the way he was watching you. Oh, if only you knew. Luke loved getting your attention on him. He would snatch up any chance just to have your eyes on him or to have you care for him. The boy loved just seeing you blush over his little teasings. It was also fascinating to him how you never realized the true intentions behind his actions. Luke knew that half the camp probably knew that he was absolutely dotted on you from the way he was acting like a five-year-old boy chasing after his crush. Though, you always deemed his words and gestures as playful and jokes rather than genuine.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied. However, the cheeky grin on his face told you otherwise, and you hit his arm in retaliation. “Ouch, is that the way to treat an injured person?” Luke joked.

“You’re barely injured. The wound is not even that deep.”

“Well…surely, if it’s not that bad, you can just kiss it better, right?” Your cheeks tinted a more evident shade of pink at his words, and you let out a deep sigh before giving Luke a playful glare. He only smirked at this, and Gods, you found that annoying yet endearing at the same time. Meanwhile, the boy was proudly relishing the idea that he was the cause of the blush that was adorning your cheeks.

“Okay, I say, let’s find somewhere safer, and then I’ll disinfect and wrap your wound up, yeah?” You suggested, purposefully deciding to ignore Luke’s previous words.

“Yes, ma’am.” Luke breathed out.

However, before you could help Luke up and relocate, two hikers spotted the both of you. It was a middle-aged married couple, and you slightly cursed under your breath. As you predicted, they started panicking at the sight of Luke’s bleeding wound and asked if you both needed help.

“Oh no, we’re fine,” you tried saying, though you could see the husband already calling 911. “Seriously, we have this handled,” you tried to reassure them, reaching out to the husband so he’d put the phone down, but the wife touched one of your shoulders.

“How did this happen?” the over-caring strangers asked.

“It was…a bear,” you settled on saying, grimacing when you realized you were less convincing than you wanted. You hoped the woman would not ask for further elaborations because that would require the impromptu level you were not ready to play at.

“The ambulance should be here soon,” the husband informed while keeping 911 on the line, and you abruptly turned to him. Now, your mind started panicking. You two were meant to keep a low profile.

“What? No, he’s really fine. It’s just a minor injury. Look! He’s practically like he always is. Right, Luke?” You turned back to Luke, hoping he’d attest to your words against these strangers. However, you were caught off-guard by the sight of him with his eyes closed instead. “Luke?” you called again, this time louder. Yet, you were met with the same response - utter silence.

Then came the sound of sirens, and the next thing you knew, you were sitting on a chair next to a hospital bed where Luke was lying still. You’ve been sitting there for two hours, calmly waiting for the boy to wake up after recovering from the initial panic over the thought of something seriously wrong with him. The only noise in the room was from the ticking clock on the opposite wall to you, as well as the occasional sound of magazine pages being turned.

“Y-Y/N…?” The quiet sound of Luke calling out your name pulled you out of your thoughts, and you looked up from the magazine in your hand. “Where are we?”

“The hospital,” you answered promptly. You watched as the Hermes cabin counselor looked down at the item in your hand, then back up at your face again.

“Well, you seem awfully calm. Not even worried at all about me?” You almost chuckled at his words, slightly in disbelief that even after getting knocked out, Luke somehow still had the energy to joke.

“Nah, the doctor told me you were going to be fine. Apparently, it was the mild concussion from knocking your head against the tree that made you pass out. Said you’d be up in like three hours or so.” Luke nodded as he remembered the chimera shoving him, causing him to bash his head against a tree. The boy sat up on the hospital bed, and you helped him by adjusting his pillow so he could lean against it.

“So you would have cared otherwise?” He gave you a teasing grin. Things like that had you thinking sometimes if he was just being playfully flirty or if he meant more. Luke does not seem to do this with anybody else at camp. But once again, you ruled out the theory of him having feelings for you in that way.

“Only because I would not have anybody else to harass if you die,” You poured Luke a glass of water and handed it to him. He only smiled at your witty reply and took a sip of water. However, you took the opportunity to be honest, just so he’d at least know that you do care about him, despite the sarcastic remarks before.

“On a serious note, though… I’m glad you’re okay, Luke,” you sent Luke a sweet smile. Though there it was again — that look. However, for some reason, he didn’t whip up a clever, flirty line to joke around, which made you wonder what was on his mind.

Meanwhile, Luke felt as if his lungs had lost half its capacity. Gods, under the moonlight, you looked ethereal. It made him wonder for a second whether he was in a coma because you felt too good to exist in this ever-so-cruel world. Don’t even get him started on the way you were smiling at him, so sweet like caramel that his eyes were tracing to forever remember. He internally sighed, wondering how many more signs must he give out before you would get that he was genuinely interested in you.

You misinterpreted Luke’s look as one of vulnerability. Your brain theorized that maybe he was shaken from the chimera attack, so you slowly but surely grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. However, you didn’t notice the slight hitch in Luke’s breath as soon as you did this. His eyes almost fluttered shut at how nice it was to have your hand around his. If he could hold your hand every day, he absolutely would. You started rubbing your thumb on his knuckles as well. Oh, to be somebody you found worth worrying about and caring for. Luke thought maybe he did win the lottery after all. He could feel his heart wanting to crack his ribcage open to jump out of—

Unexpectedly, you heard a sudden continuous beeping from one of the equipment nearby and looked at it. Luke followed your gaze, and his face immediately started flushing over the drastic change in the heart monitor’s graphic representation of his heartbeat. The beeping still continued when you looked back at him with evident concern on your face.

“Woah, are you alright?” Luke tried muttering an affirmative answer but froze when you leaned closer and lightly graced his forehead with your hand. The boy gulped while you were cluelessly trying to see if he was coming down with a fever or not — which you assumed he was due to the way his face seemed to have warmed up. However, you were greeted with a normal body temperature and the sound of the heart monitor beeping even faster.

Suddenly, everything clicked. You cast your gaze on Luke again, tilting your head in amusement.

“Am I making you flustered?” Luke’s cheeks flared even more at your words. The Hermes cabin counselor looked away from you, taking his hand out of yours now as he attempted to slow down his heartbeat. However, you immediately took hold of his face and moved it back towards you. A mischievous grin grew on your face as you took in Luke’s blushing. How could you pass up the opportunity to finally torment him and get him flustered, especially when he has been doing the same thing to you for the past years?

Luke watched as you had him wrapped around your fingers both figuratively and literally, smirking as if you knew you had entire control over him. But he knew you only knew the surface level of it because even he doesn’t know the extent to which he would go for you. The only thing he knew was that he was in deep, deep trouble. He knew whatever part of him that was logical would perish as soon as you let him be yours. Yet he did not seem to mind discarding all his senses and submitting to whatever these feelings were.

“Careful there, Castellan, keep looking at me like that, and I might just have to believe you’re secretly obsessed with me.” You were only joking, but the way his eyes fluttered when you said that made you gulp.

“And what if I tell you I am?” At his words and the sound of his heartbeat speeding up on the heart monitor, you froze.

It was as if all the clues had come crashing down at once. It finally sunk in for you that perhaps you were wrong this whole time for thinking Luke was not into you. Because now, this hospital room had somehow become a crime scene filled with evidence of his feelings for you - the way he was intensely looking at you with dilated pupils, the uncontrollable speed of his heartbeat that you could feel where your fingers lay near his neck and pulse point, his shallow and nervous breathing, the beeping sound from the heart monitor that would make others think it has gone haywire, and most of all, the earnest and resigned look on his face as if he had already embraced the fact that his feelings for you would not change whether or not they would be reciprocated.

Your hand left his face to brush his dark curls. Your eyes cast down at his lips quickly before looking back up. You noticed the yearning in his eyes and how he copied your actions.

“...Can I?” Luke uttered breathlessly as if all the air in his lungs had been replaced with pure, relentless wanting. Even as a victim of heavy longing and subjected to desire, Luke still awaited the green light. His eyebrows slightly scrunched as if silently asking for permission, and you knew exactly what he wanted when he glanced down at your lips again.

One tiny nod from you, and he pulled you in. His hands delicately held the sides of your face as your lips clashed. Almost instantly, Luke felt as if he might flatline soon from the way your kiss was seemingly sending him into a cardiac arrest. He practically melted as you giggled into the kiss when the heart monitor started beeping even more frequently, indicating Luke’s increasingly erratic heartbeat. Something about this moment felt so urgent yet endearing like a long-awaited wish come true.

Slowly but surely, he wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you up onto his hospital bed effortlessly, as if desperately needing you to just be closer to him. You both somewhat laughed at this before you wrapped both arms around his shoulders without breaking the kiss.

One of your hands started playing with his hair. You were not sure why but you pulled it and almost instantly, Luke had to break away from the kiss as a raspy groan escaped his lips. Your other hand on the side of his face and neck could feel the way it echoed as a hum in his throat, and you gulped at your effect on him.

Luke licked his lips as he stared at you again. He came to the conclusion that after that kiss, you were wrong that he was obsessed with you. Instead, he was everything above that - devoted, fervently fixated, infatuated, an addict who shamelessly wanted and needed you. Gods, maybe he was a madman when it came to you.

Your eyes flickered to the clock nearby and noticed it was 4:41am, realizing there was just enough time for the two of you to leave the hospital and catch the next bus back to camp. That prompted you to whisper, “I think we should leave now. If we do, we’ll be on time for the next bus.” Luke groaned at your words while you hopped off the hospital bed and grabbed your jacket. The boy unhooked himself from the heart monitor, though his eyes lingered on it for a bit while a smile grew on his face.

“Why the rush?” He asked, grabbing his own jacket before opening the door for you.

“Cause as lovely as that was, I don’t want to make out again in a hospital,” Luke froze before grinning at your words.

“Oh, does that mean it might happen again? Us making out?” He asked, watching as a cheeky smile grew on your face despite you opting to just shrug at his question. You fanned your hand out before him, smiling even more when he put his hand in yours.

With that, you led him out of the hospital hand in hand while he grinned like a fool behind you.

Honestly, Luke would blindly go anywhere you lead him.

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luv4fushi · 9 months

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omfg i litr read everything uve written off ur masterlist I NEED MOREEEE. i love the way u write megumi especially, i couldn’t get enough of it. i hope you write more of him, my heart aches for more tbh 🥹 tysm for being such a good writer and feeding us starved readers well

tysm! i'm sooo glad i can be a good source of megumi content for you >_< i looove writing megumi so you'll be seeing sooo much more of him, dw! happy holidays!

this december

jjk fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

it’s always colder on your own, especially around this time of year. you should be at home, bundled up with a warm cup of hot chocolate, but here you are in shinjuku, exorcizing curses with your ex boyfriend two weeks after your breakup with him. great.

content: post break up, aged up megumi (19/20), megumi is terrible at feelings, getting back together, fluff if you squint, a bit of angst, miscommunication, one bed (but it isn’t the main plot point sorry), megumi calls you baby like once, gojo is the best wingman, SHIBUYA ARC NEVER HAPPENED AND LIFE IS GOOD, not proofread im very sorry guys pls forgive me, kinda a word dump sry

word count: 5.8k (sigh this was supposed to be 2k words max)

click on my masterlist for more & merry christmas to those who celebrate!

it’s december 19th when satoru gojo tells you that he has a mission just for you. you’re less than ecstatic about it to say the least. the last thing you want to do is be sent to your death just shy of christmas day. you just want to rest your sore muscles and bask in the presence of your best friends. you’re not in the mood to kill any curses, mainly because you’ve just recovered from a previous mission.

“why me?” you groan.

gone are the days where you used to be a goody two shoes for satoru. you’re old enough to talk back now, not like when you had been a shy fifteen-year-old girl. besides, you’ve been around the silver-haired sorcerer long enough to know that he doesn’t mind the bite.

“sorry, kid,” satoru says with a shrug. at least he sounds genuine about it. “the higher ups requested for you specifically. they say you’ll get the job done in the cleanest way. we can’t have things getting messy before the holidays, right?”

“and you wouldn’t be the best choice?” you quip.

satoru only laughs. he ruffles your hair. even with your growth spurt and merciless training, he still towers over you. in a way, he’ll always be your mentor. “hey, i’m going out of town that weekend. give me a break.”

you huff petulantly. something about this mission seems fishy to you. you’re not nearly the strongest sorcerer out of the bunch of kids under satoru’s wings (not that you guys are kids anymore, but sometimes it’s hard to feel otherwise). hell, there’s the kyoto students. it feels like they never have to do anything. you wish that you were rebellious enough to chew utahime out for it.

“why couldn’t they just make yuta or megumi go?” you mutter under your breath. you stammer out megumi’s name and hope satoru doesn’t catch on to the way you can barely say it.

satoru knows about the breakup. why wouldn’t he? he’s basically megumi’s dad, even if the raven haired boy refuses to admit it. satoru’s six eyes mean you can’t hide anything from him (he’d been the first to know that megumi was head over heels for you).

satoru raises a brow. “oh, right. megumi’s coming along too.”

your face twists and you immediately whip around to glare at him. “you’re lying.”

“i wish,” he jokes. “i was really hoping i’d get a wedding invitation one day, you little rascal. i can’t believe you two broke up. maybe this’ll be a good thing!”

“i appreciate your honesty, but—”

“but megumi’s an emotionally constipated kid, yeah, that i know,” satoru laughs. he makes his way to the exit of his office which has you furrowing your brows. is your former teacher actually gonna just leave after making you come all the way here? how rude and so very in character of him.

“please, gojo,” you call out after him, “i don’t wanna go with him.”

“sucks for you,” satoru responds halfheartedly. “merry christmas. try not to take more than a week on this. you’ll have to pay the rest of the fee for accommodations if you do.”

“gojo!” you whine.

“it’s not a hard mission!” satoru insists like it’ll make your life any easier. “y’know, this time of year is when things get ugly. think of it as saving as many people as you can while putting in the least amount of effort!”

and then he teleports. your former teacher teleports away rather than being normal and walking out of the door. you roll your eyes and hope that he can sense it (you know he can’t).

so that’s why you’re here now. with your ex. on the elevator to your assigned room on the tenth floor. you’re so glad that it’s a normal hotel and not a love hotel. lord knows what you’d do if you had checked into a love hotel.

megumi hasn’t spoken a word to you since he broke up with you two weeks ago. it had been in the doorway to your apartment a few days after a particularly rough mission assigned to the both of you—the one you’re still recovering from. he’d pulled you in for a hug, whispering sweet words into your ear. he gave you a look, one of those looks that made him soften his usually sharp eyes.

“i think we should break up.”

and then came the pathetic whimper of yours. he had wiped your tears, even kissed them tenderly, before telling you that it wasn’t your fault—it was his. how cliche.

now as you stand next to him, you want to beat yourself up for not asking for closure. neither of you had explicitly stated that you two were going to be no-contact, but it hurts a lot less to push the idea of forever with megumi away to the back of your mind. besides, you two aren’t confrontational like that. not with each other, anyway.

“need help?” his tone is soft, tender—the tone he reserves specifically for you, the one that tells you he still cares.

you stare down at the luggage at your feet. you’ve always been a chronic overpacker, a habit that megumi knows of by now. he watches you curiously, hands itching at his sides. you can tell that he wants to reach out and grab your suitcase like he always does. he thinks he isn’t obvious, but you can always read through the lines, especially when it’s megumi.

“i’m okay,” you croak out, clearing your throat awkwardly.

the elevator dings and you make your way to your room. as much as you hate to admit it, you’re sort of glad that you and your ex boyfriend are sharing a room. perhaps his’ll be a good way to get closure, though you’re not really sure what closure entails.

what you don’t expect is to unlock the door and be met with a singular bed.

if satoru gojo didn’t have a layer of infinity coating his body (and if he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive), you would’ve wrung out his neck.

megumi simply walks into the room, setting his duffel bag down on one of the dressers opposite from the foot of the bed. he doesn’t comment on the lack of double beds, seemingly already aware of the set up.all he does is puff out a weary sigh. you suck in a breath and follow him inside, slipping your shoes off at the entrance.

you lug your suitcase in after you along with your duffel bag and backpack. you stumble forward and megumi’s arm snakes around your waist, steadying you.

“careful,” he mutters, nonchalantly taking your bag off our your shoulders.

it’s a quick series of movements; he swings your bag over his shoulders and places it on the dresser next to the one he’s claimed while guiding you softly to the side of the bed so that you’re not standing in the middle of the doorway.

you scrunch your face, feeling your heart thump against your ribcage. it’s stupid how he still has such a hold on you, even after two weeks of not seeing or talking to him. he’s just so caring, so gentle. it stings, like little the little cuts you get when fighting curses, when you realize that this is something you’ll have to learn how to lose.

“thanks,” you manage to mutter. you don’t trust yourself to say anything else. you know from the way your throat tightens that you’ll be crying soon if you force yourself to talk any more.

“i can take the couch,” megumi says.

it’s that easy with him; he’s a gentleman, so of course he’d take the couch. that’s the way megumi fushiguro is—he offers a solution before you even have the chance to complain. in your year and a half long relationship, that skill of his had been a saving grace.

“no, don’t bother,” you croak. “i’ll book another room.”

“really?” he asks. he stands up a little straighter, awkwardly reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “i mean, i don’t mind sharing a room with you… we’ve..”

we’ve shared a room countless of times before.

megumi doesn’t have to continue his sentence for you to understand what he’s implying. you part your lips to speak, but nothing comes out except for a long, heavy sigh. your shoulders drop as you let the exhaustion seep into your bones. there’s no use arguing about it, not when you don't’ mind sharing a room with megumi, either.

“we’ve broken up,” you remind him in a quiet voice, like you’re afraid saying it out loud will make it truer than it already is.

megumi pauses. you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. “i know that, but … it’ll be fine. we’ve shared a room as friends before.”

he’s right, like he usually is. you two have shared a room before as just friends, but that had been as teenagers—back when you both harbored such hardcore crushes on each other that you two somehow didn’t notice.

“right,” you find yourself agreeing with a small nod.

“you should go get ready for bed.” megumi begins grabbing a few or the decorative pillow off of the bed. he places them gingerly on the brown couch tucked in the corner of the hotel room. “we’ll be getting up pretty early to deal with the brunt of the mission.”

to finish this mission as quickly as possible, you think.

and so you oblige and head to the bathroom. it’s december 19th, just a few days shy of christmas day, and you’re in bed with your ex boyfriend on the couch just a few feet away.

december 20th greets you with megumi hovering over you. he peers down at you with his messy bangs covering his eyes. they’re piercingly blue as he blinks. his lashes flutter perfectly, even in the early morning. your eyes meet his and you jolt awake.

“good morning,” he says. “your alarm has been ringing for a bit now, so i turned it off.”

you blink rapidly, getting the tiredness out of your eyes. “oh.”

he chuckles softly, just enough for you to catch it with your ears. he rises from his crouched position and heads to the front door. he spares you a glance over his shoulder before he heads out, presumably giving you the privacy you need. you let out a strangled breath before you swing your legs over the bed and head to the bathroom.

by the time you’re finished putting on your uniform, you swing the door to your hotel room open and see megumi leaned up against the wall, tapping away on his phone. his dark blue eyes flicker up to you and he turns away to head down the hall.

you furrow your brows. you can’t help but think that he’s being a little cold to you. it isn’t like you initiated the breakup. despite your frustration with his behavior, you can sort of understand why he wouldn’t want to be sweet around you; you two aren’t dating anymore and so it makes sense that he’d go back to being aloof in your presence, the usual way he acts around everyone else. losing that position in his life makes your stomach churn for reasons you’re less than willing to uncover.

your mission is a vague one; all you know is that it’s a clean-up mission. rather than a level 1 curse (or even a special grade), the mission consists of an acclimation of weak curses surrounding shinjuku. these missions are normally given to younger, more inexperienced sorcerers with the help of a senior sorcerer, but for an odd reason, it’s been given to you and megumi this year. megumi could’ve probably handled it himself. actually, you could’ve handled it yourself.

you bite your tongue to hold back on your complaints as you walk just a step behind megumi. he pauses regularly, waiting for you to catch up to his side. you roll your eyes in secret. does he not realize that you don’t want to walk next to him?

“it’s all just bars,” you mutter.

with that, you earn a tiny laugh from megumi. “well, yeah. this is the red-light district of shinjuku.”

you pale. “this sucks.”

“why do you think i wanted to come out here in the morning rather than at night?” he says, his tone strangely light.

“to deal with the brunt of the mission,” you repeat his words from last night sarcastically. you’re unsure as to what he’s talking about, so you think that it’s okay to give him a little bit of attitude.

he raises his brow but doesn’t comment on your sarcasm. instead, he says softly, “no, stupid. it’s because this is the red-light district. it’s unsafe for anyone, especially a pretty, young girl alone at night.”

your first thought is to coo and tease him. you think i’m pretty? it takes you half a second to remember that you two are broken up. you scoff, “i’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“i never said you weren’t,” megumi shoots back. “it would just be annoying explaining to the higher ups why you were fighting people and not curses.”

“i’m sure they’d understand,” you retort, frowning. you cross your arms.

“don’t be so pouty,” he says in that stupid, gentle tone he uses with you when you’re acting bratty.

you both decide to split up. well, it’s more like you demand the two of you to split up. you say it under the pretense that it’ll get the job done faster. besides, you both want to be home before christmas day, right?

there’s about two curses you cross paths with every hour. you’re starting to lose your mind. shouldn’t the streets be infested with them? you don’t even need a veil! all you have to do is give the weak curses just one punch and they vaporize on the spot. your head is running with hundreds of thoughts.

that’s when it hits you: the first years at the tokyo jujutsu school did come out here a week prior! maybe they did a bad job? but you remember nobara had been the one to lead the group. she may half-ass almost everything in her life, but she wouldn’t jeopardize her underclassmen for the sake of her freetime.

so why on earth are you here? it’s not like there are enough harmful curses for a mission to be assigned to you right before christmas, and to you and megumi of all sorcerers. you’re both strong enough to the point of having some kind of importance in the jujutsu world. the higher ups wouldn’t send the two of you on some stupid mission for the sake of it unless they’re planning some sort of secret execution. but even then, satoru gojo should’ve known through their lies to not send you or megumi. unless…he wants you two dead…?

you shake your head and bite your nails. the sun begins to set and you realize that you’ve been out here for longer than you expected. you’re starting to feel a chill in your bones—you had argued petulantly with megumi earlier about not wanting to wear your jacket despite it being the dead of winter; “it’s gonna get in the way!”

you always seem to forget the the sun sets earlier in the winter. it’s stupid how bright all the lights are in shinjuku. there isn’t a square foot of anything that isn’t lit up with neon signs reading out the names of clubs and bars. you see couples and large groups of people walking along the streets.

it’s lonely, you realize. it would’ve been less lonely with megumi.

you make your way to the meeting spot with megumi. you both share a few small words before retiring for the night. megumi says he wants to go sightseeing, even though there’s really nothing much to see. he doesn’t return to the hotel room until late at night.

when he slips into the only bed that the room offers, you chalk it up to the slight alcohol you smell on his lips. it feels so natural that you don’t push him away even though you should. his body is warm and you fit so perfectly against his broad chest that you think it’ll be okay for you to be a little selfish tonight.

“g’night,” megumi mumbles in his sleep.

you smile and nuzzle closer.

it’s december 21st as you realize how late it is in the day. megumi is back on the couch. you feel a tinge of disappointment in the bottom of your stomach.

to no one’s surprise, the sun is barely peeking over the buildings when you’re finally back in the red-light district. you’re doing the last bit of cleanup, but there’s really nothing much for you to clean.

tomorrow, you’ll be heading to a shopping mall, so you suppose you should do your best to sniff out the rest of the curses littering the place unless you want to stay here an extra day. the day is, yet again, slow.

it’s nearing 8 PM and you're finally sure that you’ve gotten rid of all the curses in the general area. you’ve been done for quite a while now, but you just haven’t found the courage to let megumi know that you’re ready to go back to the hotel room. a little sightseeing on your end wouldn’t hurt, right?

“hi, pretty.” a gravelly voice, battered by cigarettes, whispers in your ear.

you jump in surprise. you need to remember not to get too far into your head. you should’ve felt his presence coming from a mile away. it’s a terrible habit and satoru has scolded you for years about it.

“hi,” you mutter, pushing past his larger frame.

the man isn’t as nicely built as the men you know (but then again, your friends are jujutsu sorcerers, so it’s kind of hard to beat that), but he still towers over you. he’s got a squad of rough-looking guys behind him, smirking down at you.

“why’s someone like you alone?” he says, shoving his arm to loop around your waist.

you roll your eyes, getting ready to punch the man square in the nose. will you get in trouble? probably yes. will it be a funny story to tell? also probably yes.

“don’t touch my wife.”

the group of men turn their heads along with you to see megumi. his expression is shrouded with a mixture of anger and frustration. you blink in confusion—megumi usually looks pretty pissed off, but this is the most angry you’ve seen him in a while. and ‘wife’? what’s up with that?

“oh, my bad,” the man chuckles. “didn’t know this pretty thing was married.”

“this ‘pretty thing’ wants you to let her go,” you say with an overly sweet smile. your teeth clench and you hiss, “right now.”

the guy scurries down the sidewalk with his buddies trailing along, making fun of him for hitting on a married woman. nobody mentions the lack of a ring on your finger. nobody mentions the lack of a relationship, either.

“wife?” you scowl. “we’re broken up.”

“guys tend to back up when they know a woman is married. it’s the only way you can really, uh, get them to go away around here.”

you glare at him. “and how would you know? you come here often with girls?”

“...no?” he blinks, unable to comprehend your sudden burst of jealousy. “i sometimes get missions around here, though. pretending to be married was the easiest way—”

“we aren’t, though. we’re not even in a relationship.” you seem to be throwing that into his face a lot more than you should. you can’t help it, though. you still feel a little bitter about not getting a real reason as to why megumi wanted to break up.

“i was trying to help you.” he’s calm and collected, as heard through his voice. he walks up to you and takes your freezing hand into his much warmer ones. “let’s go home.”

“i don’t want to,” you argue.

“stop being a brat,” he says, but there’s no bite to his words. “you’re cold and you’ve been out here all day. if i hadn’t stopped those guys, you probably would’ve beat them up pretty badly.”

“i’m not a fucking brat!” you try to retract your hand, but megumi’s grip only tightens.

“baby, stop,” the pet name rolls off his tongue with ease. megumi sighs softly and pulls you to his chest. “why are you so worked up, hm?”

from the way he speaks, you can tell that he already has an inkling. the breakup. cuddling last night. hugging you now. everything.

you don’t realize you’re crying until he gently wipes his thumb under your eye. he has the audacity to have an amused grin plastered on his stupidly pretty lips. your vision is blurry but if it hadn’t been, you would’ve thrown a punch.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair. “it’s all my fault.”

“it is,” you whimper pathetically. all the tears and the emotions you’ve been holding back bubble up to the surface.

“don’t be upset,” he almost pleads. “let’s go back, okay?”

the night ends with megumi on the couch. neither of you bring up the argument or the fact that he had slept in your bed with you last night. you two don’t talk about the usage of pet names, either.

when you open your eyes on december 22nd, you’re surprised to see that megumi has already headed out for the day. you click your tongue in annoyance—he’s always been good at avoiding his problems when it comes to dealing with them, especially problems involving his emotions. you already know where you’re supposed to be headed, so you suppose that it’s for the best that he’d left before you.

the shopping mall is a long line of vendors and stores among other things. the snow on the ground is fresh—it must’ve snowed late last night after you’d fallen asleep. it crunches underneath your beat-up sneakers with each step you take. you’re not shocked when you end up wandering aimlessly, dipping in and out of stores with no real urgency to finish your mission.

there’s nothing to do anyway.

you’ve killed about 3 curses total and it’s really starting to look like you’ve been sent out here for busy work. you really should’ve figured that out the first day of the mission when you had to practically beg the curses to come out and fight you.

you find yourself in the front of a jewelry store, eyeing a pretty bracelet that you know would look stunning around megumi’s wrist. it’s one of those bracelets that clasp tightly. there’s a thicker band in the center with pretty carvings that seem to resemble some sort of swirly heart. it’s pretty, you have to admit.

without much thought, you buy the gift.

the seller has to clear her throat to get your attention when you don’t answer her question. “um, would you like this to be wrapped?”

you nod absentmindedly. “oh, yes. sorry. please wrap it.”

she nods in return and proceeds to wrap the bracelet in a tiny box, adorning it with a festive bow. you ask her to change it out for a different color, explaining that it isn’t a christmas gift and instead, it’s for someone’s birthday. she offers you a warm smile before switching it with a muted blue ribbon.

you return to the hotel, having to take an expensive taxi. you don’t mind—the bracelet has already made a decent-sized dent in your wallet. why not spend an extra amount on getting home? it’s not like jujutsu sorcerers are paid poorly.

reality hits you when you finally get back to the hotel room. you want to punch yourself for being so stupid. did you really just buy a birthday present for your ex-boyfriend?

you’re thankful that megumi hasn’t arrived yet. he seems to be determined to avoid you for as long as he can. you can’t blame him, either. you did give him quite a hard time yesterday.

you toss the box on to the dresser and head to the bathroom to splash some much needed cold water on to your face. maybe that’ll wake you up enough to clear your mind. you’ve acted out once during this trip already and you’re not really looking forward to any other possible outbursts.

you rinse your face and pat yourself dry with one of the face towels provided to you by the hotel staff. you hang it over the rack again and tiredly make your way to your bed. you halt your movements when you see megumi standing by the dresser, admiring your gift.

he looks up at you in surprise with the smallest grin on his face. it’s so subtle that you would’ve missed it had you not been dating him for nearly two years.

“is this for me?”

“no,” you quickly deny. his face falls and you cough out, “um, i mean.. yeah. i-i didn’t… i… happy birthday.”

he brightens, lips pulling up into a real, genuine smile. “you remembered?”

“why wouldn’t i?” you blurt gently. you bite your inner cheek to stop yourself from saying anything more.

“i dunno.” his voice is distant and low, like he’s trying to hold back his tears. “i just…i didn’t think i was deserving of a gift from you. thank you. i like it.”

you stand awkwardly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. “yeah, well…”

“can you help me put it on?” he asks, sitting at the edge of your unmade bed.

you feel your body heat up. part of you screams for you to stop. you shouldn’t do that. it’s far too intimate and you two are broken up. you’ve never been good at making decisions, though, so you sit next to him and feel the mattress dip.

he gives you a grateful look, one that you willfully ignore, and gives you his wrist. you clasp the bracelet on, fingertips just barely grazing his skin. your heart skips a beat and you have to inhale sharply before pulling away.

“thank you,” he whispers.

december 23rd is a sore reminder that life goes on. you had half-expected something to spark between you and megumi. perhaps he’d beg for you back, or maybe with less wishful thinking, he’d give you his real reason as to why he doesn’t want you anymore.

“i don’t think we need to go anymore,” megumi says when you come out of the bathroom after freshening up.

“huh? why not?”

“there’s nothing out there.” megumi’s voice is flat.

“i know, but we’ll get in trouble if we…”

“gojo probably sent us out here for fun.”

your lips part. megumi turns to you with a slight frown.

“don’t you think so too?” he asks, but you know it isn’t a question he’s looking to find an answer to. “why would the higher-ups assign a mission like this to a special grade sorcerer and a grade 1 sorcerer? if they needed that much manpower, this mission would’ve been deadlier. instead, we’re playing cleanup crew.”

“yeah, but..” you trail off, unable to think of a statement to refute his words. “if we go back now, we’ll get chewed out.”

“it’s just a scolding. you’ll be fine.” megumi stands up and stretches his arms.

you watch him cautiously as he begins to fold his clothes and throw them into his duffel bag. he doesn’t say anything else, letting the silence overtake the room.

“...are we leaving, then?” you ask meekly, not bothering to hide the slight quiver in your voice.

he pauses slightly. “do you want to stay here until christmas? this mission is stupid and you know it. there’s no point.”

why is his tone so cold all of the sudden? it’s as if you two hadn’t shared a moment last night before bed. does your gift not mean anything to him now that he’s cleared his mind with a good rest?

your eyes flicker to his wrist. the gold glimmers underneath the light and you realize that megumi doesn’t seem to hate wearing it. so why is he acting so … unpleasant?

you feel a lump in your throat. it’s embarrassing how quickly he’s able to upset you from just the tone of his voice. even his body language, usually fluid and smooth, is rigid with your presence. you want to tell him that you’ve enjoyed your time with him. you want to shake his shoulders and tell him that if you two cut your mission short, you might not get another chance to be near him again.

“do you still care about me?” you whisper instead.

he stills completely. “what?”

“this entire time,” you begin shakily, “you’ve been nice to me. you treat me like you always do. you’re always hovering over me even though you pretend you aren’t! you obviously still care, megumi.”

his adam's apple bobs as swallows. a beat of silence. then two. then three.

“i do care,” he admits sorely.

“then why did you break up with me?” you blurt. there it is, the question you’ve been meaning to ask. you both had seen it coming.

“because…” megumi winces as if he’s the one getting hurt from the ordeal. “because you deserve someone that’s normal. someone that isn’t a sorcerer. i can’t give you that life.”

you feel your chest swarm with anger. why does he always think he needs to sabotage himself to make others happy? this is something you’ve tried working with him on, but it seems like old habits are hard to kill off, just like your habit of loving him.

“why the hell would you decide that for me? when did i ever say i wanted a normal life?” you snap. your hands clench at your sides.

“it’s too early for this,” he says, his voice straining as he finally musters up the strength to look at you in your eyes.

“tell me, megumi. if that’s the real reason, then that is the most pathetic excuse for a breakup i've ever heard.” your voice cracks and you gulp down the oncoming sob that’s threatening to explode from your throat.

he inhales slowly and makes his way to you, holding you close against his chest. you should push him away, but you would rather let him hug you. you know that you can’t fight him, anyway.

“you…once said you wanted a regular relationship. when you got hurt a few weeks ago, i realized i couldn’t be that for you,” he confesses lowly. “i knew that you’d never find it in yourself to leave, so i figured i should just let you go for your sa–”

“are you kidding me?” you shout incredulously. “i said that when i was fifteen, megumi! before i even knew what being in love was like!”

he flinches against you. “but i…”

“you and your damn savior complex! i don’t need to be in a regular, normal relationship! i don’t need any of that, megumi! i’m a sorcerer, I won't ever get to be normal! in fact, it’s even better that i’m with you because you at least know what this life is like, you idiot! you’re always ruining the good things in your life because you—”

he takes his fingers to grab your chin and he pulls you in for a kiss. if the kiss is a ploy to shut you up, you hate to admit that it’s working. his tongue slips into your mouth and you melt against him. your arms loop around his neck as you desperately drag him down closer to your body. his hand grip your waist while the other clings to the small of your back.

you whimper out of instinct and he pulls away, lips bruised and breathless. it’s been so long since you’ve tasted him and you frown, tiptoeing to capture his lips again. you need to savor him, to feel him lips against yours again.

“baby, wait.” his chest heaves as he looks down at you. “don’t…don’t do this to me.”

“do what?” you ask, an edge to your voice. did he just reject you? even after all that?

“w-we gotta report back to—”

“we’re supposed to leave tomorrow,” you interrupt.

the gears shift in his head. “fine, but—”

“i’m still really fucking mad, but i just need you to kiss me right now,” you whine impatiently.

all megumi does is laugh when he swoops down to press his lips against yours.

it’s december 24th when you two find yourselves in satoru’s office. steam is practically rising from your ears as you try to compose yourself in front of your former teacher.

“... i wanted a wedding invitation.” satoru shrugs.

“you set us up!” you whine angrily. “gojo, are you serious?! isn’t this a little immature?”

megumi stays silent, averting his gaze. he suddenly finds the succulents on satoru’s desk very interesting. he’s never noticed that they’re all nearly dead! how cool.

your eyes shoot daggers at megumi's silence.

"we aren't gonna get married any time soon..." megumi mutters when he feels your pointy glare on him.

satoru raises his hands in mock surrender. “you two can’t blame me! it worked out! you two are back together now, right?”

“but did you have to make us look like fools out there?” you groan.

“you should’ve figured it out on the first day that the mission was a sham!” satoru exclaims, offense taking over his features.

“but still!” you’re borderline hysterical at this point, unable to believe that your former teacher of all people had to set up an entire fake mission so that you and your ex could talk your feelings out. “we would’ve figured ourselves out sooner or later!”

megumi nods. he feels like he should at least give you a little support even if he’s embarrassed out of his mind.

“oh really?” satoru’s voice drips with sarcasm. “you guys should be thanking me—”

“you’re so not getting an invitation to our wedding!” you grumble.

“wha—hey! i’m the one that got you two back together! besides, i’m megumi’s guardian! you can’t just not invite me.”

“watch me!”

“megumi, tell her that she can’t do that—hey! where are you guys going? invite me, you rascals—why are you guys leaving? we aren’t done discussing this! megumi, don’t you dare take her side! she isn’t even your wife yet—don’t slam my door!”

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x you #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk megumi #megumi fluff #not my best work tbh

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weirdbookweeb · 3 months

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Simon (Ghost) Riley NSFW Alphabet

Many thanks to @fictional-loves for the template <3 and obviously, this is NSFW. Proceed as you wish. Reader is fairly genderless throughout the whole thing. Pros of a non-binary author. Lots of love <3 request AUs, Headcanons, Alphabets of any kind for literally any character for any fandom in my inbox. This did involve some very interesting research. Cough cough.

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

He is a snugglebug for a solid 10 minutes after. He's got his arms wrapped around your waist, his face nuzzled in your chest while he's half-asleep. He'll make soft noises and reply gently to you with a soft, grumbly voice that just melts you to the bones. Then after those ten minutes, he gains his composure and cleans up everything, giving you kisses with teasing half-smiles. He then carries you to a bathtub filled with warm water and slides in right behind you to soak both of your aches away.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

His own switches between his arms and his cock. His likes how strong he is and how big he physically is compared to a lot of other people, you included. His arms are what hold on to you and protect what needs to be protected. And his cock is just something he is really damn proud of cause it makes you feel good.

His favorite things about you are your thighs and your hair. He likes to tangle his fingers in your hair when he's kissing you, and to stroke it when you're resting in his lap, and to just smell the scent of you when he hugs you from behind. Your thighs are his kryptonite, though. The fact that they clench around his head when he's eating you out, or he can grab them as he fuck deeper into you, or that he can fuck them and feel their soft warmth.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

He loves how dirty anything doing with cum can be. Tasting his cum on your lips? Seeing your eyes widen when he tastes yours? Seeing his cum on your pretty skin? Feeling your cum on his face and pelvis? He loves it all. He wears a condom when he's inside of you, but otherwise he wants you to be his canvas and he wants to taste you.

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

He kind of wants to do something where someone can find you both. Where he has to muffle your sounds and whisper in your ear things that make it hard to not be caught. He thinks it's really hot. He gets hard just thinking about it. He would agree to it immediately if it was brought up, but only if you brought it up.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

He's kind of got experience. He's slept with very few people and done a few vanilla things, but his job usually gets in the way of things. So he know the basics, but not the extremes.

F= Favorite position

Initially upon meeting you, it's missionary because it's how most of his previous sex was done and he really liked seeing your face. Eventually it becomes Breeze because he likes how deep he can penetrate you and can make you gasp for breath.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

He's pretty serious. He's the kind of person who would chuckle if something funny did happen, like you both falling on the floor or someone farting, but he'd never go out of his way to make jokes. He's usually so deep in the moment that everything seems erotic unless it's genuinely really funny.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

He's neat, but he's not hairless by any means. He's always got a happy trail. It gets a little bit grown out on particularly long deployments (on over a couple of weeks), but never overgrown, unmaintained, and gross.

He also prefers his partners a similar way. Neat, but not hairless. As long as you take care of yourself, he doesn't really care.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

This man is dirty. He swears under his breath when he enters you and talks about how warm and tight you are and cannot shut up about how much he likes fucking up into you. There is no romantic words in his sentences, only dirty promises and sexual gratification. He's gripping you like you're his dark angel bringing him his sinful savior, rough and desperate.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

He masturbates semi-regularly. Every few days, he just kinda gets bored and horny. Passively paws at his dick through his pants as it hardens, teasingly, groaning under his breath before finally slipping his hand under the waistband and taking his cock into his fist with a hiss of pleasure.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

He likes when his back gets all scratched up. Not to the point of bleeding, but angry red marks up and down his back drive him insane. He also loves begging, himself or his partner. He likes being worshipped and worshipping. He also likes wearing his work mask at times.

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

He prefers his own bedroom, but he also likes the kitchen. The bedroom is ideal because of comfort, availability, and the fact you can usually be more likely to go to bed right after. But something about how 'public' the kitchen is, and how he can fold you over the counters makes him love it.

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

If you tease this man with a gentle carress and a few sexy sentences, he'll be turned on. Hot outfit? Turned on. Particularly proud moment? He wants to fuck you right then and there. He's kind of just turned on by you. He's got self control, but he's also just a man.

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

Anything to do with non-sexual bodily fluids (scat, piss, blood), multiple people, weapons (knifeplay, gunplay, anything similar), age play, breathplay, and anything that interferes with your ability to consent (CNC, S/A, ETC)

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

He is good with both, be he prefers recieving so he can kiss you afterwards. He is incredibly skilled with his tongue and fingers, though. I mean. His ability to give oral is immeasurable. He was a little bit of a rookie when you got together, but he learned quick what you liked.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

He gives it long and hard. He can hold out pretty long (the better part of half an hour). He can range from 15 minutes if he's been built up for a while to over an hour if he's already came and can handle holding out for a while.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

He's not fond of them. He used to do them with one night stands on deployment and they're not exactly his cup of tea anymore. Besides, what's fun in them if he can pull you aside for half an hour, have way more fun and leave you trembling from an orgasm.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

If you bring them up, he’s willing to try a lot of things. But outside of the bedroom, he's pretty shy when talking about sex. You'll have to be the one to talk about things you want to happen. He’s nothing if not a pleaser.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

He can go a few rounds. 3 or 4 with a resting period, maybe more if you give him an hour. He's not exactly 25 anymore. But each round can last around half an hour each, give or take.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

He's got stuff for the both of you. It's no fun otherwise. There's more stuff for you than for him, but there's vibrators, pentration equipment, lubricant (because yes, men and women and everyone in between can use lubricant, be safe), and more. Some stuff is hidden where you can't find it, just in case you get curious and ask one day to try something out.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

He is so unfair, but he expects it in return. He is the kind of person to tease you for an hour before you even enter the bedroom.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

He's pretty quiet. He grunts, groans, sighs, and hisses. If he's completely desperate and pushed to the edge, you can pull a whimper out of him, but most of it is breathy and bass-filled. He speaks constantly, telling you praises about your body, noises, feelings, everything.

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)

This is solely for the femmes and women, sorry mascs and men, but he's got a bit of a mommy kink. If he's feeling a bit pathetic and desperate, he'll whisper out a pathetic "mommy..." and grab you tighter while thrusting into you and biting down into your shoulder.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

(I'm a science girlie in the most ungendered way possible, so I'm not going to say he has a 10 inch cock like I've seen a few people do, that is almost entirely unrealistic, Rasputin.) He's standardly sizable at 6.5 inches erect and 5.5 inches soft. He's circumcised and has a bit of a curve to him.

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)

Again, he’s pretty easily excitable when it comes to you, but he’s also not 25 anymore. He doesn't have a super high sex drive, but he's definitely willing to do sex. On a scale of 0-10, 0 being absolutely no sex, 10 being horny all the time, he's a solid 6 with a "not horny all the time, but i definitely thing about it and I'm definitely open to it when offered".

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

He's got problems sleeping in general so he doesn't sleep afterwards. He'll be tired, but he'll kinda just hang out with you for a bit. If he were to fall asleep, it would rake him a couple hours at least and you'd have to fall asleep first and he'd have to follow a specific routine before falling asleep. Fallback from being in the military and being constantly unsafe made him have a pretty paranoid sleeping routine.

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a-boca-do-inferno · 3 months

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NSFW ALPHABET (caesar x human!reader) [request]

warnings: swearing, interspecies smut mention(duh)

words: 2.4k

notes: howdy caesar girlies! this was so much fun. im so excited bc ive never done a nsfw alphabet before, i hope i did well lol enjoy xx.

Aftercare; what he’s like after sex.

Affectionate to a fault. It would come to no surprise that Caesar is very protective of you—always careful not to hurt you given your difference in size and strength. He’ll constantly rub you arms up and down soothingly in silence, scanning you with his green eyes to look for any unintended marks he might have left on your hairless skin. The king restrains from being too rough a lot, but sometimes he can’t control himself and he knows it, even if you actually like it when he does that. And he’s not as stealthy as he thinks himself to be while checking on you, however you allow him to do it without any teasing comments, for his own self-reassurance. It’s adorable.

Body part; his favourite body parts of you.

Caesar has a thing for your chest. Regardless of size or shape, just the softness of it... How it fits into his big hand, how wrinkled your nipples get under his touch. Loves tasting your breasts with his tongue, cupping them, kissing them, the whole deal. And your belly, too; maybe it has to do with the fact that it’d be impossible for you to bear his child, yet he just cannot help himself from imagining how your womb would look like with a baby bump.

Cum; anything to do with cum, basically.

This ties into his love for your belly and the kink part later on, but obviously Caesar has a breeding kink deep down, even if he doesn’t think about it too much. In his more, shall I say, animalistic moments, his aching need to fill you up with his seed is almost unbearable. He becomes another person—another creature, even—whenever his eyes watch your entrance dripping with his semen, hot, pale, thick, trickling your thighs gloriously. The sight is enough for him to get instantly hard again.

Dirty secret; a dirty secret of his.

Caesar is just a sucker for the sounds you make, although he shall never tell you this; mainly because you two have to keep it low profile, otherwise it would be embarrassing—at best—for him to face the council the next day after the whole colony heard your passionate… love-making. He can get aroused by the tone of your voice only, when you speak a softer word or produce a deeper murmur. Especially if you talk into his ear. And even though he never actively makes you aware of it, you can tell whenever his fur stands on end after you whisper something to him, no matter how trivial the subject is. With one look, you know it’s on.

Experience; does he know what he’s doing?

Mostly. Caesar is undoubtedly well versed in the art of sex with a female ape, but with you—for obvious reasons—he will often ask what makes you feel good, genuinely curious and eager to learn so he can please you. It doesn’t take much for you to get him going, yet he knows human females have a different pace for things, as you’ve mentioned a few times in casual conversation. He’s thankfully not shy when it comes to learning new things, be them about sex or not, and that makes for a considerable improvement every time you two fuck.

Favourite position; this goes without saying.

Doggy. Albeit Caesar can’t help but find the term ridiculous, occasionally making a joke about it and calling it apey style—to which you only snort softly and roll your eyes. He loves seeing your shapely figure all bent for him, completely under his mercy while you take his cock with your face muffled against the nest, moaning repeatedly. His palm tightens around your hair, guiding the rhythm of his thrusts as he goes faster and faster, pounding into your very core. The king enjoys every second of it, coming inside you with warm spurts all over your butt. It’s really a sight to behold.

Goofy; is he more serious in the moment? is he humorous?

Caesar has a sense of humour, sure, but he takes your intimate moments very seriously. He’s a natural leader, after all; and with authority comes an almost unshakeable sterner and more focused way to behave. Fortunately, he knows when to loosen up in bed, and it’s usually at times where he can sense you’re a little nervous or insecure.

Hair; how well groomed is he? does the carpet match the drapes?

lol All natural here, baby. Rightfully so, and Caesar knows for a fact that you absolutely love his fur in all the imaginable places. His natural musk turns you on to no end and the king is very aware of that, frequently using it in his favour. It’s annoying sometimes, how he’ll rub himself on your side when you’re mad at him for some random thing, and you just melt instantly as his furry skin tickles you. Interspecies advantage that the king just loves.

Intimacy; how is he during the moment? the romantic aspect.

Tender and loving all the way, except when Caesar’s really feeling it, which usually occurs whenever he’s had a bad day and you happened to be spending a little too much time with other males. Not that he’s the jealous type—he’ll never admit it, but it adds more fuel to the fire when he can smell the scent of other apes on you. He’s determined to erase it and replace it with his.

Jack off; masturbation headcanon.

Wouldn’t go as far as to say Caesar is a big fan of it, since he’d simply rather have your inner walls around him as opposed to your hands, but he will occasionally indulge in it. It mainly goes down to how much time you two have at your disposal, and how much stamina. Caesar’s an old man, let’s face it; sometimes he just wants to nut with your presence around and it will be enough for him. His only concern is your pleasure, anyway, but we’ll get to that...

Kink; one or more of his kinks.

Breeding is just a dead giveaway at this point. The fact Caesar can’t ever impregnate you is both a lingering frustration deep within him and somewhat a relief when it comes to coming (hehe) inside you, seeing as he can do so as many times as he wants, free of charge. And believe me, he does it a lot. The best part of sex with you is when his nostrils flare and his cock pulses desperately, releasing his seed and marking you as his, just how nature intended—in his mind, anyway.

Location; favourite places to do the do.

Caesar’s got a thing for rivers, waterfalls, bodies of water in general. His favourite place to fuck you is underwater, preferably when you two go hunting and it takes longer than expected—something he often makes sure to happen, pretending to lose sight of a deer or two just so the sun goes down and he can use his favourite excuse that you should stay the night. He lives for the way you look all wet (hehe) whilst bathing in the river, so vulnerable and naturally beautiful, how the droplets contour your naked curves… The sound of water is a turn on for him too, yet you’re the one in the centre of his thoughts. There’s also a certain thrill of being in “public”, arguably, but he’s much too careful for it to actually be a risk.

Motivation; what turns him on, gets him going.

Caesar loves your curves because they come with a plus of smoothness that only human females have; the way they shift as you move, making your body a feast for his eyes. You were forced to sew your own clothing as time went by with you living in the colony, and the scarcity of animal fur makes for quite the flashy outfits that show a lot of skin—which he isn’t mad at, at all. This softness of your body shape, paired with your strength, makes you irresistible to him, embodying the perfect balance of sensuality and resilience. You are, to the king, the epitome of femininity in your own way, and he can't help but be drawn to it.

No; something he wouldn’t do, turn offs.

Caesar’s pretty open minded and easy-going sexually, but something he would never do is definitely share. No getting freaky with other males, even females, if he can help it, nope! He’s not jealous per se—or so he keeps telling himself, it’s just the mere thought of having your attention split between him and others, in your intimate moments, no less… It makes him mad, not just turned off. Besides that, anything goes, as long as you’re both safe; especially you. In bed, you’re the boss.

Oral; preference in giving or receiving, skill.

Oh, my, does Caesar love eating you out. There’s just something about the human anatomy of your pussy that he can’t get enough of; your scent, your taste, how much you squirm and suffocate him with your tender thighs. He loves to tease you with his fangs, grazing his teeth over your pelvis before going all in with his skilful tongue. He laps your folds as if he’d been in the desert, without water—or food, in this case—for far too long, just deeply savouring you. Again, he’d much rather have your vagina around his cock, however he can appreciate your orals too. He won’t ask for it, letting you decide when you want to do it, if you feel like it. He’s happy to oblige, but he’s definitely more on the giving side of things.

Pace; is he fast and rough? slow and sensual?

Caesar is adaptable. He’s mindful and watchful of your needs, only getting rougher on his own account in those moments where he’s unable to hold back from his most animalistic urges. His default is slow and sensual, always wanting you to let go and relax after busy days in the colony, and you’re beyond grateful for that. But when you want it rough, do brace yourself. Face against the nest and all that.

Quickie; his opinions on quickies, how often.

Loves them and there are seasons—around winter and autumn—when it happens more often, as the colony affairs take most of his time. Caesar’s a patient guy and would choose to do things at his own pace always, sure, but the reality of leadership isn’t all peaches and cream and he knows how to navigate through that with you like no other. Man got skills.

Risk; is he game to experiment? does he take risks?

Caesar can’t afford to take too many risks because he’s got a reputation to maintain, as stated before. But, he will definitely experiment within the limits—more so if it has nothing even remotely potentially dangerous involved, as he is overprotective of you.

Stamina; how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?

Being a chimpanzee has its perks and one of them is definitely resistance. Although chimps’ intercourse is fairly practical and quick, Caesar’s simply built different. You reckon that’s also a reason why apes respect him; perhaps they can somehow sense the king’s physical advantages over any other males around. You have no complaints, that’s for damn sure.

Toys; does he own toys?

Caesar’s familiar with this concept after you tell him, but it’s no secret the options are scarce in your conditions. When you find an untouched vibrator in one of your scavenging trips to the city, though, his curiosity is instantly peaked. He’s still sceptical about the toy’s ability to satisfy you over his own cock, of course, yet the option seems more reasonable when you ask him to stimulate you further with it while he’s fucking you. He’s always happy to oblige if it adds to your pleasure.

Unfair; how much he likes to tease.

Caesar’s genuine nature doesn’t really allow him to make you suffer often, even if it’s for a reward later on, however he can tease you from time to time. Mainly whenever you get too cheeky with your jokes about giving more attention to the males in the colony, Koba from all apes. He finds himself rolling his eyes in a mix of impatience and amusement at your jabs about there being a thin line between love and hate for humans. Puffing his chest in response, he will sign to you playfully, with a cocky grin, that no other ape in the colony would ever be able to satisfy you like he can. Additionally, he makes his case for it that night, coming three times inside you without batting an eye. You have no choice but to yield.

Volume; how loud he is, what sounds he makes.

Fun fact: Caesar is regretfully much louder than he should, but he just can’t control himself with you. It’s particularly hard for him to shut the fuck up whenever you get the idea of bouncing on his cock. Not his favourite position, yet for some reason, just the sight of you riding him with so much necessity, practically coming undone with every movement is enough for the ape king to snarl and growl almost like he’s being gutted, filled with pure desire for you.

Wild card; a random headcanon.

Caesar’s favourite hobby includes casually grooming you after sex. Not that you have lice or anything like that; he knows you manage to keep up with your hygiene even whilst living with the apes, but the king enjoys bonding like this with you, similar to when you teach him new human customs he never got the chance to get in touch with before the flu.

X-ray; let’s see what’s going on under that... fur.

Caesar’s stature is impressive for an ape and his cock, while not disproportionate to his size, is certainly above average for his species. He’s thick and veiny, qualities that can both be a delight and a burden when you turn him on in public with your teasing.

Yearning; how high is his sex drive?

High as fuck. Seriously. Caesar might kill someone with his bare hands if he spends too much time without touching you. Apes already drive him crazy almost on a daily basis, but if on top of that he can’t even come home with the silent hope you’ll be there waiting for him to fuck you senseless, the ape king will fall apart. He’s that needy.

Zzz; how quickly he falls asleep afterwards.

Depends on what kind of a day Caesar had, really. If he’s been stressed and took the opportunity to blow off some steam, then he will be most likely to pull out of you and hold you to his chest, closing his eyes and drifting off the next minute. Oppositely, if he only improved his day by having sex with you at night, he makes conversation and asks about you and your day in the colony. Ultimately, it all comes down to context.

#caesar x reader #pota #pota x reader #planet of the apes #planet of the apes x reader #rise of the planet of the apes x reader #rise of the planet of the apes #caesar #dawn of the planet of the apes x reader #war for the planet of the apes x reader #war for the planet of the apes #dawn of the planet of the apes

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urdepressedslut · 1 year

Text

Love Me to Death

✧ Pairing — Avengers!Bucky Barnes x Siren!Fem!Reader

✧ Summary — The Avengers compound receives a new recruit. She’s a siren who can make anyone fall deathly in love with her with one word. Bucky immediately takes interest in her as he discovers she’s mute, for good reason of course.

✧ Warnings — light angst, hints to past trauma, mentions of bucky’s trauma, hints to PTSD, hints of anxiety

series masterlist ✧ inbox open

You would never get over the view of the Atlantic Ocean. The way you found yourself getting lost as your eyes focused further and further into the distance. The way the earth curved, the way it appeared the ocean just dropped off. Nobody could ever know what went on out there, what happened when there were no wandering eyes. The secrets that the water held, the dark beauty that painted the waters.

Of course, this wasn’t a goodbye forever— just for a while. You couldn't help the pain that formed in your chest, the way your eyes watered at the last view glimpses of your home.

"You about ready to go (Y/n)?" Fury asked from the sand below.

You turned your head towards him, not missing the quick flash of guilt that passed through his expression. You turned back towards the water, taking one last deep breath in— the crisp air filling your lungs.

"If everything works out the way it should— you'll be back here soon." He reminded you, and you knew that was an estimation.

It was the best outcome that you'd return— but the chances were slim. Considering everything, this might as well be the last time you'll ever set foot on this rock, looking at this view that you'd grown to love so much.

You stepped down from the rock, standing next to Fury with a solemn look. You shook your head and avoided his eyes, you couldn't seem to come up with a good answer— so you shoved your way of communicating in your pockets. Plus, you didn't feel like signing a bullshit response— you were upset and you had the right to be.

"Remember I'm not the bad guy here, and neither are you. This is just how things need to be for a while." He reminded you, trying his best to make this feel less forced.

You gave in and signed the only thing you could come up with for now.

I know. You signed before you shoved your hand back in your pocket.

He gave a tiny smile, one that didn't seem genuine but you didn't seem to care too much.

“I don’t know why I have to be here.” Bucky grumbled, running a hand through his hair in stress.

Natasha rolled her eyes, giving Sam a smack on the head to wake him up. He was falling asleep on the couch when it wasn’t the time.

“Rude! I was sleeping.” Sam complained.

“Don’t care— and Buck you need to be here. We are receiving a new recruit.” She explained.

Bucky let out a sigh, shrugging his shoulders— wondering why Nat. thought he cared.

“We always receive new recruits. What’s so different about this one?” He wondered, earning a stare from the redhead before she replied.

Her features grew serious, all kicking and joking stripped from her face.

“This one is enhanced… and deadly.”

His eyes widened and all at once he understood his place now. He was here when things went wrong— the expendable one. Although it made his jaw clench, slight anger running through his veins— he nodded in understanding otherwise.

Natasha seemed to read him without him having to utter another word, she immediately backtracked.

“God, it’s like I can hear you thinking— you’re here because you’re part of the team. Everyone, including you is meeting her.” She corrected, watching his features soften slightly.

“How do you do that?” He asked, squinting his eyes in defense.

She was always able to read his mind, hell— everyone’s!

She laughed, shrugging her shoulder— avoiding to answer his question to mess with him.

“She’s a woman, of course she can read your thoughts. They all can.” Sam added from the couch, trying to drift back to sleep.

Natasha threw a pillow at Sam’s face, taking him by surprise.

“Oh shut it Wilson.” She mumbled, with a roll of her eyes.

“Ow! Why’re you so violent today?” He asked, sitting up and walking towards the bookshelf in the living room.

Natasha smiled to herself, taking his words more as a compliment than an insult.

“Everyone else will be here soon, but seriously— I know you know what it’s like to feel like an outsider when you first showed up here. I want you to help her out, okay?” The redhead asked, earning a scowl from him.

“Why me? Everyone at some point has had to feel like that too— c’mon Nat! I was just starting to settle down here, almost have a little routine for myself. How do you know she won’t be afraid of me— I’m sure she’ll know who I am.” He rambled on, complaint after complaint.

The redhead rubbed a hand down her face.

“I’m not asking you to marry her— just help her out, while she’s settles in.” She told him.

He sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get out of this. He nodded, but kept a scowl on his face. This was not how he expected the day to go.

Soon enough, Fury was walking a surprisingly pretty woman into the room where all the Avengers either stood or sat waiting.

It wasn’t supposed to be a dig, Bucky only assumed she’d be less… pretty— with the way Natasha had described her. Deadly. He was expecting a more disturbed, haunting character— not this beautiful face.

“I’m sure all of you have heard whispers here and there— so this isn’t entirely new to any of you. Well… maybe some of you.” Fury mumbled, looking in Sam’s direction. “You are receiving a new member. She will be an amazing addition to the team— powerful and will help keep you all alive.”

Everyone said hello, waving and sending warm smiles her way— Bucky could only imagine the nerves of this woman with all the staring.

She seemed to be holding up quite well, in fact— she seemed glum. Her face was sagging with defeat every so slightly— enough for Bucky to notice of course. He immediately felt drawn to her distress, wanting to know the cause of it.

“Now, as all of you noticed. She doesn’t speak, and will not speak unless she is to do so. Meaning while in a mission, or any other situation where one of you are in danger.” Fury explained.

Bucky couldn’t help the frown that formed in his face. It felt wrong to listen to Fury talk about her like she was an object and nothing more— just a weapon at their hands. He felt uncomfortable, and almost like a flash in his quick blinks— he suddenly remembered the same feeling back at HYDRA. All of a sudden— it was personal.

“Can I ask why she can’t speak?” Natasha wondered, voicing what most of us were thinking.”

It felt weird to talk about her like she wasn’t standing right in front of us— but she didn’t seem bothered by it. Guess you wouldn’t be bothered either, after years of someone speaking for you.

There was that uncomfortable feeling again.

“Yes, that was the next thing I wanted to discuss.” Fury started, letting the woman take a seat beside him. “(Y/n) is a Siren. One peep from her and you all would fall under a spell. A love spell, you could say.”

Everyone went silent, taking in the new information. Nobody knew how to react— as nobody had experience with a Siren before. In fact— mostly everyone assumed Siren’s were a myth.

“So… what? (Y/n) talks and we all go in a trance? How do you get out of it?” Scott asked from the back row.

Fury shook his head, sneaking a glance at (Y/n) before speaking.

“You don’t. You stay trapped in the trance until death.” Fury finished.

Everyone’s mouth went into O’s, silence taking over the room yet again. Half of the group were intimidated— while the other half which contained the stronger Avengers, such as Thor and Wanda— they were impressed.

“A love spell that kills you? Wow.” Natasha muttered to herself, having never heard of something like this before.

(Y/n) surprised everyone when she started signing something in her seat, a shameful expression on her face as she did so.

“What did she just say?” Sam asked, looking at both Bucky and Nat.

Bucky and Natasha shared a look with each other, looking back a you before revealing to the rest of the group.

“She said, you’ll love me to death.” Natasha told them.

Everyone grew rigid at that sentence. The sinister way the endearing saying went from sweet to dark. Even Wanda and Thor gulped, swallowing in fear. (Y/n) was new too, nobody knew if they could trust her yet. Even with the approval from Fury— everyone felt a little on edge.

Meanwhile, Bucky gazed at her with a new fascination. Something in him pushed him towards her— something inside him wanted to know everything about her.

He wondered why.

A/N: this seems short and i’m sorry if it feels rushed, but i just wanted to get this out there. has been sitting in my drafts for awhile. hasn’t been proof read 👀

TAGLIST: @billy-reads @potatothots @buckyb-stan @kmc1989 @silverfire13 @ghostofwinter @hanihoney88 @stilesofhannah @skittle479 @marvelogic @meetmeatyourworst @engie115 @wilsons-striped-ties @x209x @kandis-mom @l0kilaufeys0n7

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familyvideostevie · 1 year

Note

HI! Can you do a grumpy!reader x sunshine!sirius black one shot😫

absolutely. i am a grumpy!reader stan, let me tell you, because i am her. okay, here we have kind of grumpy!reader and sunshine!sirius going on their first date | 1.1k <3

You're not nervous. You're not.

It's not like it's a blind date, anyway. You know Sirius Black. Kinda. Lily's the one who set you up, coordinated it all and assured you he's keen to go on a date. You're pretty sure you've spoken to him a few times at parties, been at the pub at the same time. You know what he looks like, at least. Hair that never gets brushed, rings in his ears and nose, a smile that seems mischievous and genuinely carefree at the same time.

He's not as measured as Remus, a bit less puppy dog than James. If you'd been asked in a silly gossipy way which of the trio you'd pick, it would be him.

You just don't want to hope too hard.

Though it's taken a while, you are perfectly aware of and secure in your value and personality. You are "a fucking catch," as Marlene often says, and even if she and your other friends didn't assure you of it, you'd think so. You're prickly, sure. You're quiet in most situations, preferring to observe and go home when you've had enough. You don't laugh much, don't tell jokes. You stand at the edge of the group because that's where you prefer to be.

It's okay that you're not everyone's cup of tea. People have told you before that you should talk more, you should be more present, you should do more things. You're fine as you are and anyone who thinks otherwise isn't worth your time.

So the fact that Sirius is a few minutes late doesn't bother you that much. The bar isn't super crowded and you're sat a pretty comfortable stool snacking on the olives the bartender put out when you arrived. If he doesn't show you'll just get a drink and read the book in your bag and go home and call Lily and you know she'll lay into him.

But just as you consider it, there's a warm hand on your shoulder and you turn to find the man in question grinning at you sheepishly. His name rolls off your tongue.

"I'm so sorry," he says. "Had to take the bus and obviously it wasn't on time. Can I hug you hello?"

You appreciate him asking. Something about you tends to put people off of touch, though you don't usually mind it. "Hi, Sirius," you say, standing to give him a squeeze. He's warm and smells like tobacco and mint, like he popped one on his way over.

"Have you been here before?" He peels off his leather jacket and sits next to you, signaling for the bartender. "Do you want a drink?"

"Yes, and yes," you say. "The Sex on the Beach is quite good."

His eyebrows rise to his hairline and he grins. You keep your face neutral. "Not what I would have picked for you," he muses. "But I trust you." He asks the bartender for two.

"What would you have picked for me?" You pop an olive into your mouth.

Sirius thinks on it. "Stout pint," he says. "Or whiskey." His gaze very quickly travels the length of you as much as he can, sitting so close. "You look lovely, by the way."

That almost gets you to smile. "You do, too," you say instead. "Is that a new earring?" You reach for it without thinking but he doesn't flinch away. A gold star dangles from his right ear instead of the hoop you remember him having last time you saw him.

His grin gets impossibly bigger. How is that he can smile every second of every day? "So glad you noticed, love," he says. "It sure is. It's got a story, too. Something you might not know about me is --"

He talks and talks and talks. Your drinks come and he tells you the story and then another one and you find that you don't mind listening. It feels like Sirius is talking to you, not at you, even though it's clear he could charm a brick wall. He doesn't seem to mind that you only nod or make affirmative noises rather than chime in or laugh, answering his questions for you in just a few words. He just seems to want your attention, which he certainly has.

"And then James genuinely looked at me and said I thought they were the same thing."

The story is funny, sure, but Sirius's own laughter at his joke makes you smile. You feel it happen, feel the corners of your mouth lift and a chuckle make its way out of you.

"You have a pretty smile," Sirius says. He looks about two seconds away from poking it to see if it's real.

"Are you telling me to smile more?" you ask.

That seems to fluster him. You don't think you've seen him flustered before. He runs a hand through his unruly curls, ties them up into a half-up half-down bun thing with the hairband on his wrist. You wonder if his hair is soft.

"I, no," he stumbles. Who knew Sirius Black could stumble over his words? "I wouldn't. That's not something you say to a girl --"

You put a hand on his arm. His skin is warm, the ink that covers it smoother than you expected under your fingers. "I'm teasing, Sirius," you say.

His grin returns twice as strong. How can he flip between emotions so quickly? "You are? Oh, thank fuck."

His profanity makes your lips tug up. You take a sip of your drink and knock your knee with his.

"Hang on," he says. "If you're teasing me that means you must like me."

"What do you mean?" You genuinely want to know.

"Well," he says. "We don't really know each other, even though I've been trying to work up speaking to you at every one of Lily's parties this year, which is why she agreed to set us up, by the way, so I'd stop bothering her about it."

You want to interrupt because, what? but he keeps talking. His gaze is steady, eyes fixed on yours.

"But I get the impression that you don't let just anyone see how many sides you have."

Something in your chest is tight and warm. Is that your heart?

"Sides?" you mutter. "A cube, am I?"

He laughs. Loudly and genuinely. You don't fight the smile this time. Sirius puts his hand on your knee and leans in a little. "I'm not great with words, love," he says. "That's Remus."

"You're plenty great," you say bluntly. "And I guess you're right."

"Hmm?" He blinks a few times and you realize how long his lashes are, his eyeliner making his irises look impossibly big.

"I must like you."

Not a bad first date after all.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

#sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #marauders fanfiction #sirius black fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black fluff

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wttcsms · 9 months

Note

"i (Nanami Kento) bet on losing dogs" x the losing dog (reader)

no other sadness in the world would do, kento nanami ;

pairing kento nanami x f!reader word count 1.5k synopsis a quiet and intimate examination of modern day suffering content contains implied abusive spouse (for reader), implied unrequited love (nanami has feelings for reader)

There is nothing in this world that Kento Nanami despises more than baseless loyalty.

What a pathetic trait, he would think to himself. How could someone just blindly follow someone, constantly chasing after their shadow, only to be mistreated time and time again? It’s disgusting. Shameless. Weak.

He feels disgusting, shameless, weak.

Powerless, too. That’s a new one. That’s how things usually go when it’s just the two of you; you start evoking all sorts of new emotions, like he’s a video game character and you’re helping him unlock upgrades to his character. It’s a bit disarming, really. Kento much prefers to remain as impassive as possible while in the office because unnecessarily giving up any pieces of himself to this skyscraper shithole feels like he’s letting his stupidly rich clients win.

Kento likes routine, which is why he settles into one quickly and refuses to make adjustments unless absolutely necessary.

And then you became his new desk partner, and his perfect, meticulous cycle is thrown off course.

Being observant does more harm than good. He notices the shiny ring on your finger and draws an invisible, never-to-be-passed boundary. He already has made up his mind on not engaging with any of his coworkers, female or male, married or otherwise, but with you, he makes the mental effort to visualize the line, the flashing red warning signs, the whole nine-yards. This is the first sign that you are going to fuck up his life. Already, you’re embedded in his insides, owning real estate in his subconscious long before he can even realize it.

At first, you don’t talk to him much; you don’t talk to most of the men working here, and Kento can’t fault you for that. Most of them are assholes, and all of them don’t have any morals. If this wasn’t the case, they wouldn’t be working here, after all.

Eventually, you start to withdraw, and Kento becomes the person you’re most comfortable with talking to. What you see is what you get with him. Kento refuses to be one of those people who are a waste of perfectly good oxygen, and he doesn’t speak unless it’s absolutely necessary. You’re in an industry where men purposely like to talk over women, just because they can get away with it. With Kento, you are given free rein of the conversation. It’s kismet, you and him.

He gets used to your constant conversation, never seeming to be put off by the fact that he doesn’t offer up his opinion unless explicitly asked. Kento normally doesn’t like it when people talk to him when he’s trying to get work done, but your voice is pleasant, your topics always interesting (“do you think there are different levels in Hell, or is a one-victim murderer being prodded by pitchforks right next to Hitler?”), and he finds that listening to you speak relaxes him somewhat. He doesn’t go home with a tightness in his shoulders and a persistent, throbbing ache in his head that aspirin can’t seem to fix.

The first time Kento initiates conversation is when he sees you wearing a blazer during the sweltering heat of one of Japan’s most unforgiving summers.

“A bit warm for all that,” he says, trying to adjust his tone and make it sound like a joke. Even if it did sound like a joke, he knows that your reaction would remain the same.

“Oh,” you give a nervous, insincere laugh, reflexively tugging on the sleeves even though your arms are still very much covered. “I get cold easily.”

That’s a lie. Kento knows because he knows you well enough to tell that you are the most genuine person he has ever interacted with. He doesn’t know how you ended up with this job when you’re much better suited for a career that actually helps people. He thinks back to when the office’s air conditioning went haywire and blasted the office with near-freezing temperatures. You had remained in your short-sleeved blouse, saying that you love the cold.

He doesn’t call you out on it, though. He just makes a noise from the back of his throat and turns back to his monitor.

He can only pretend to ignore your erratic behavior for so long. You keep yourself covered to the point where you make a nun seem indecent. You withdraw from him, not initiating conversation unless Kento brings something up (he’s never been good at making small talk, and so more often than not, the conversation fizzles out quickly and awkwardly). And then you come to work with a black eye, and Kento refuses to let you suffer in silence any longer.

You break down and cry, feeling pathetic, feeling lost. You beg him not to say anything to anybody, that this is just a rough patch, that this’ll pass, and everything will be okay. Amidst your sobs, Kento finds himself wondering who you’re trying to convince right now.

He holds you on the comedown.

Now, there’s a new cycle. Things don’t get better for you; it doesn’t take a fucking genius to figure that one out. If a man lays his hands on you once, he’ll do it again. And again. And again.

To take a life is a serious thing, but sometimes, there are worse ways to kill someone without ever murdering them. Your husband is killing you right now, a slow, soul-sucking type of death, and Kento would like to kill him. Some people are more curse than human.

What did your husband do, Kento wonders, to make you fall in love with him? What can your husband do to make you finally wake up and realize that he is entirely undeserving of your love?

Kento Nanami does not belong to any religion, does not attend church, does not even bother questioning the possibilities of a potential afterlife because his current life is already a bust as is. But after every late night he spends comforting and consoling you, holding you while you wet his button-down with your tears, he goes home and prays that you get the strength to fucking leave him. Pack your bags and get the hell out of Tokyo. Even if it means he’ll never see you again, the only person who makes this insufferable existence somewhat bearable.

But the cycle doesn’t seem to ever break. He’s watching you fade away, and he decides that all the faith systems are fucked up for ignoring his pleas.

“You should leave him.” He tells you, handing you a tissue. It’s technically a waste of breath; he tells you this shit all the time, and you never take his advice, but he says it anyway. Foolishly hoping that this time will be the time where you decide to listen to him.

(And besides, he finds that anything he says to you could never be a waste.)

“But I love him.” You give him that same sad, watery smile, and Kento wants to pity you, but you wouldn’t accept it. Outwardly, he treats you the same as he used to, before he knew all that stuff that happens to you behind closed doors, because he knows what it’s like to be treated like you’re incapable of processing anything but kindness. The sweet, sugary kind of kindness, too — none of that blunt, pragmatic stuff. Kismet, he snorts. How fortunate that the kindness you need — re: blunt, pragmatic — is the only type he’s capable of giving to you.

Being treated like you’re surrounded by broken glass and everyone around you is trying desperately to avoid it makes people feel even worse. When Yu died, everyone acted like not being overly nice to Kento would somehow make him snap and go off the deep-end. The fact of the matter is, none of these people have ever been so overly cautious around him, and it actually made the pain of losing Yu somehow more unbearable.

There are lots of replies that rest on the tip of his tongue.

But does he love you?

Why?

Have some self respect, holy shit.

Your love is killing you from the inside out.

I could love you.

He tosses away your snotty tissues into the trash can, somehow not disgusted by you even though you think he should be. His grocery list now includes painkillers, band-aids, and bruise ointment. He thinks prayers are a waste of time, and before bed, he takes a shot in the dark and hopes some benevolent god is rooting for you like he is. There is nothing in the world that Kento Nanami despises more than baseless loyalty.

“I know.” And he leaves it at that.

#kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #one shot #drabble #sleepover event

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silentcryracha · 1 year

Text

❍ ‗ Love Language (Skz - Hyung line) ‗ ❍

Pairings : Chan x reader, Minho x reader, Changbin x reader, Hyunjin x reader

Genre/warnings : Half headcanon and half scenarios. They all start fluffy and fun and end up suggestively/with a little smut. Regardless strictly 18+

Summary : Each member has some specific dynamics in their relationship that makes your love so special. These are some of them <3

Word count : 2.1 K

A/n : The summary and title suck I know apologies lol, just read to understand lol. Anyways have fun!

ps: There could be errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

Maknae line link

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Chan ‗ ❍

Chan would be absolutely smitten with someone that either had his same talents with music (the whole process) or at the very least someone that is genuinely interested in what he does. He would feel very validated and happy about it , for sure.

"Oh wow is this something new?" he'd answer yes and ask if you wanted to hear it. Of course you'd say yes in a heartbeat. You'd sit on his lap and listening intently to the new sample/recording, bopping your head to it slightly along with the rhythm.

He would try play it cool but would secretly be really hopeful of your response. When you finished listening you'd say something like "That was great, Channie. I especially liked-" and then you'd go into detail about it. He would be smiling so wide I just know.

Extra bonus points if you start adding some technical specifics or took the initiative to give other ideas, keeping in mind everything that you learned from him. Now he's absolutely in awe and wouldn't be able to hide it.

Or maybe it could be a lyric draft, a new dance bit to learn, some raw vocals and so on. Honestly just any part of his work.

He can be insecure sometimes and doubt his own abilities, so I feel like he would gain so much confidence if someone that he genuinely cared about gave him positive feedback. Especially since you'd try to be always really honest with each other, he would value that a lot too.

So in short, shower him in compliments and make him all shy, he'll love that and hate that at the same time.

It could also be that maybe you're not an expert in the matter and would simply ask him to explain further his inspiration/ideas or the process behind whatever he was doing.

Either way one of you would end up impressed af and randomly go like "You know that was really hot, right?"

Next thing you know you're fucking on the studio couch. Or the desk. Or you riding him on the studio chair. The possibilities are multiple.

"So you think I'm really hot, uh?" he'd tease, making you smile breathlessly. You'd get closer to his ear and whisper "Yes. Always" making him groan.

"You seemed such an expert a few moments ago" he'd say in between thrusts, "Should we make our own beat? What do you say, uh? Can't talk now?" you'd clench around him, too out of it to respond.

"My baby is too fucked out to talk now?" he'd tease, but quickly add some sort of praise like "My good girl, so smart".

He could and would absolutely tease you to get you hot and bothered but would never miss to also shower you in praises like you do with him.

Minho ‗ ❍

I feel he's someone who would love to have a person that can easily match his energy, but also sweep him off his feet.

If he's being serious, he'd want you to also be serious. Unless it was a situation in which you know that he just needs some jokes to make him calm down. If he's in a teasing mood or maybe a rare cheesy mood, he'd like you to play along. Imagine if he decided to be really sweet and you're like "What are you doing Minho"

He would absolutely take it ten times worse that it actually is. Especially if we're talking about occasions in which he allows himself to be comfortable and play around. So don't do that please lol

He would find it very amusing if you actually managed to not only keep up with him but maybe even take it a step further. Maybe when he's making a joke or being ironic. If he's being cute and you act even cuter it would make him happy/shy. If he gets into a heated conversation and you're open to discuss it with him, he would really appreciate you speaking your mind and listening to his thoughts.

He would also get quite protective of your own feelings, wanting to demonstrate the same consideration and love to you. He'd make sure to also adapt well to your own mood or cheer you up and comfort you if you needed it. I guess we could say that trusting each other with your feelings and emotions is your love language. And that's why you work so well together; you're truly friends before you're lovers.

But again, in general he would get so giddy and excited when you do share his vibe. Would probably end up with the tension going through the roof. Sexy, angsty, funny, cute. Doesn't matter really.

And now suddenly he's having his way with you in whichever place you're in and truly keep the energy going.

"Oh you think you're funny now, uh?" would absolutely tease you for going along with him and turn it against you. Say shit like"Such a naughty girl for making such jokes" only to make you go insane.

Not in public, absolutely never in public. He's not a big fan of drawing the attention on him especially when he feels vulnerable. But once you get home, oh boy. Again, could be anywhere around the house in any moment of the day.

"Minho-" you'd try to say in between kisses, "Are you sure this is the time for this?" your tone not convincing even yourself. He'd smirk, jokingly grazing his teeth on your neck, "Why not? What, you want me to stop?" he'd tease, making you immediately say no and kiss him harshly.

Those kind of "I don't even know how I ended up here" type of situations. Insane and unhinged just like the man himself.

A joke goes too far and you're laughing a little to hard while you're doing laundry? The washing machine will do. You just got home and are too horny to think straight? The wall next to the entrance sounds good. It's a lazy evening and you're watching something on tv? The bedroom is the place. And so on <3

Changbin ‗ ❍

Changbin is probably someone who would love to have someone that he could spoil and take care of, 'baby' if you will, but would 100% do it back. I almost feel like it would be a standard for a relationship.

He is the type of man that would treat you like royalty and make sure that you're never missing anything. He wouldn't do it expecting to get anything in return, it's just really a matter of affecting and his love language.

But, it would make him very very happy if his s/o had the same type of dynamic.

For him specifically we're talking about both non material and material type of gifts/attention. Like comforting you or making you laugh when you need it, always making sure that you're comfortable and taken care of.

But also I feel like he would spoil you with gifts both randomly and in special occasions. If for example he buys you a birthday gift, it would have to be the best option that fit your taste perfectly. I also feel like you noticing it and making a comment on it like "Oh, Binnie thank you so much, it's my favorite color!" would make him extremely proud. Just in general seeing you happy and knowing that he contributed to it.

On your side, I think he would truly appreciate even the smallest and most mundane things like grabbing his jacket for him before he goes out and give him a little kiss goodbye, adding a slightly bigger portion of a food that he likes in comparison to another that he enjoys less, taking his hand/stroking his arm when he's feeling nervous to comfort him and so on.

It would make him feel loved. And a little babyed too, which I think he'd love to be honest. He'd absolutely baby you in return though, for sure.

All of these situations could easily turn into more explicit ones with the right setting or the right occasion.

For example, if we're talking about gifts, something a little kinky could be you buying a set of lingerie 'just for him'. Or the opposite. He could be the one buying you a nice necklace and comment on how he'd "Like to see you wearing only that"

Or maybe he could have a special event/professional engagement that he's feeling nervous about and you could say something like "I know you're gonna do great. My Binnie is always so good" getting closer to him adding "Make sure to do very well today too for me, okay? Just think of me waiting for you at home with a gift for you only" you'd add some touching or kissing to really seal the deal.

Good job, now you successfully turned him on. Would probably get distracted from his anxiety and go around with a shit eating grin, and of course, do absolutely great on stage. And after that he'd come come with a purpose, and that purpose was thanking you properly for giving him the confidence that he needed. And find his gift, of course.

Not even the time for you to congratulate him on his performance or say hello for that matter, that he'd be passionately kissing you. "Want to show me that little gift you were talking about, princess?" you'd smirk at him and just go "Unwrap it yourself, baby boy".

And he would absolutely do that in no time but not before picking you up and then bringing you to the bedroom to fully enjoy his gift.

Hyunjin ‗ ❍

Hyunjin is somewhat of an introvert yes, but he is also someone who can completely transform on stage, and that is thanks to confidence. Whether he's actually confident or kind of 'fakes it til he makes it', you can't really tell the difference. And that's because nonetheless he genuinely enjoys himself and has lots of fun dancing, singing and performing in general.

This is why I think that something that he would truly appreciate and find attractive in a s/o is the ability to be carefree. Doesn't necessarily mean that you couldn't be insecure or at the contrary be extremely confident. It just means that nonetheless you would be able to have fun and enjoy yourself when you're doing something you like.

For him it can be dancing, for you it can be something else. Whatever it is I feel like it would make him happy to see you truly happy. And also not take yourself too seriously. Maybe even make fun of each other from time to time.

Like when he's practicing a dance routine and being all sexy and serious and shit, maybe even purposefully make a show for you, and by the end of it you'd go "Hwang Hyunjin stop making sexy faces it's just me. Or do you want to seduce the walls?" that would probably make him laugh and instantly shift the mood. Maybe even get him a little shy, never hurts to tease.

And that's when you play it off, but there could easily be other occasions in which he would 100% try to seduce you and be successful at it.

He could be singing or dancing to a particularly 'exciting' song and somehow get you involved. Maybe whispering some lyrics with a low voice, or get you to dance/move with him finding an excuse to touch you. Or maybe both at the same time.

You could also play the same game though. Maybe one night you're feeling particularly in a good mood and just wanted to dance/sing like there's no tomorrow, so you'd try to get Hyunjin involved in your fun, usually being successful. He'd get shy at first but would slowly start to let himself go too.

In the same situation, if you were feeling in a specific mood though, you'd try your best to seduce him. Again, maybe mouthing or singing some lyrics suggestively and giving him bedroom eyes. Or dancing in the sexiest way you could manage, swaying your hips, touching your body or straight up coming onto him and teasing him up close, inviting him to put his own hands on you.

At that point the level of attraction that he was already feeling just from seeing you being so carefree and confident in having fun would straight up turn into being horny. He'd follow your movements with his hands on your body, maybe joining for a while only to explode not long after.

Any surface would do. You'd be way too drunk on each other and with way too much tension to release to think straight. "Look how messy we are right now, and who's fault is that?" he'd whisper in your ear while fucking you against the dance practice room wall.

"I have no idea" you'd tease, making him chuckle breathlessly, before bringing his head closer with your hand to kiss him deeply.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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esta-elavaris · 4 months

Text

OKAY so I genuinely cannot start writing this in earnest without a hell of a lot of planning, buuuuut...I wrote part one in the meantime. Just to get a feel of the thing (🤡🤡🤡) so bone apple tea! Only posting it on here, I won't post it on AO3 until I'm fully ready to go.

Credit goes to @bumblingbriars for giving me the idea of "wait, what if James was the modern one and Theodora was the character in the movies?" -- thank you for this but also how dare you.

Dividers by cafekitsune.

As It Was

None of the tales ever spoke of the fear. Why did they never speak of the fear?

It was a stupid question. Theodora knew why. Because it didn’t make for a very good story, did it? People wanted to hear of the bold heroes who defeated the monsters with little more than a smile and the strength of their own two arms. Who wanted to be regaled with stories of stupid women on suicide missions for philandering pirates? No, she wasn’t the hero of this story. She was a cautionary tale. That was all her death would amount to.

Clenching her teeth against furious tears, she doused Jack’s hands in the oil from the lamp, and then held firm to the shackles as he slid his hands free of them. They were the only two left aboard the Pearl…and it was looking like they’d be going down with it.

“You shouldn’t have stayed, darlin’,” he said.

There was a mournfulness to his dark eyes that she’d never seen before. Even now, here, at the end, he couldn’t pretend any more than she could that her death mightn’t be a waste. That it was anything more than an idiot dying for the sake of an unrequited crush.

“Too late now,” she ground out, following it up with a very forced, very strained laugh.

Because if she stopped clenching her jaw, she would definitely begin to sob. And that was the only thing here that could be more pathetic.

“Too late now,” Jack agreed, a bitter smile on his face.

Each second seemed to stretch into an eternity – was that natural, when death was certain and unavoidable? It was supposed to come with a sense of peace, was it not? Of calm? Her father had always said…god, her father. How would he even find out, back in Port Royal? He’d never forgive her for this. It was that thought that had her vision blurring.

Around them, deceptively soft splashes sounded here and there, out of place with how the water usually lapped at the sides of the ship, followed by stomach-churning slick noises…that of the kraken’s appendages. Theo took a deep, shuddering breath in. Too late now.

When she looked at Jack again, searching for words – although she knew not which ones, exactly – she found him forcing a smile. Then, instead of stepping back as she’d expected, he stepped forward. Her eyes closed on instinct as he kissed her, time slowed further still, and she felt…she felt nothing. No breathlessness, no swelling in her chest, no weakness in her knees. Nothing like Elizabeth ever described when it came to Will. Only the scratch of his moustache, the way the beads in his beard clacked against her chin, and the discomfort at the awkward angle of how she’d leaned in.

They parted, and when she opened her eyes, she found Jack watching her, that sadness back on his face again. No joking admonishments at her lack of any reaction, no over-the-top exaggerations at how his prowess had just gone clearly unappreciated. Nothing. Just sorrow. But it was quickly covered by yet another forced smile.

“Come on, darlin,” he drew his sword. “Best have a bit of flair about it, eh?”

Well. She could agree with that, at least. Theo drew her own sword, and took a deep breath in.

There were many things that James actually enjoyed about living with his younger sister…although admitting that to her would be nothing short of a fatality. But Phoebe was a rather good flatmate. She picked up after herself, she didn’t throw parties, and she added life to a flat that would otherwise be rather dead during the times when he was actually in it.

One habit of hers, however, that he could do without was her burning desire to watch the same films over and over again, with scarcely an hour between repeats. It was cyclical, more often than not. Winter belonged to Middle-earth, spring to whatever was newly landed on her radar, and summer – which they were suffering through now – was Pirates of the Caribbean territory. One month in, and he was just about ready to set about his eyeballs with a spoon. Anything to make it stop.

At present, she sat on the sofa across the other side of the room while he pottered about the kitchen, watching enraptured as the redhead on screen turned with teary eyes, side-by-side with Jack Sparrow, to face the kraken that would soon devour them both, the music swelling dramatically as they lifted their swords.

“What I don’t understand is why she had to die,” he said unthinkingly.

And instantly regretted it when Phoebe turned with a grin.

“Ha! You’re getting into it now!”

“If you’re going to insist on watching the damn things ten times a week, I can’t be blamed for noticing bits of them,” he replied sourly, leaning on the countertop. “But they bring him back in the next film, don’t they? Why not her, too?”

“The movie-verse explanation is that she was at peace.”

“Dying for a man who could barely pat her on the head in thanks? Oh, yes, very peaceful. Positively euphoric.”

Curiosity sated, albeit not in a particularly satisfying manner, he straightened and resumed the arduous process of deciding whether he’d be having cereal or real food for dinner.

“Yes. Well,” Phoebe turned her face back to the television, distractedly watching as the kraken devoured the Black Pearl, “the boring explanation is that the actress had a nasty accident just before filming started for the next one, and her bones wouldn’t heal in time for all of the stunts and so on. They had to write her out.”

That made marginally more sense, at least.

“…Much to your disappointment, I suspect,” she added smugly.

“Excuse me?” he raised an eyebrow at her.

“I saw you googling her earlier.”

“I thought I recognised her from something else.”

The fact that his cheeks blazed almost immediately did little to help his argument, but he took some comfort in knowing she was one of the few who could wrench such a reaction from him. If any of his brothers-in-arms could see it, they’d never let him hear the end of it.

“If you say so,” came her smug response.

“And she…emotes rather impressively,” he added.

“Is that what they call it these days?”

James scoffed his disgust…and then he settled on cereal. That would get him out from his sister’s far too knowing gaze much more quickly. But he’d miss it, he knew, next time he deployed.

#modern!james au #james/theodora #ctw

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your-unfriendlyghost · 11 days

Note

I have two things to ask:

1.-Can we be friends?

2.-Do you have any Outsiders headcanons (or any that you haven't submitted yet)?

I mean sure?? Idk who you are since you’re on anon, so not REALLY, but I’m always down to talk!

2. Yeah lol- tons. Too many. Here’s a few (okay like 25 oops) off the top of my head lol, some serious/angsty and some lighthearted/kinda stupid without any real order. (Lotta ‘em are about Steve tbh -there’s so little to him in canon that I have the freedom to hc pretty much whatever I want)

Steve Randle’s nearsighted and has no idea, which is why he’s literally always squinting. (I’ve had that one for like months but only recently mentioned it on here lol.) Steve thinks his vision is completely normal

Dally and Sylvia genuinely cared for each other, but they were both so horrible at having healthy emotions that they just made each other worse. In a bad way, not a fun way.

When Steve gets kicked out, sometimes he hangs with Johnny in the lot. They don’t really talk about anything important like their shared experiences of having lousy parents. Instead they talk about cars, girls, music, school…lighthearted stuff. Sometimes Johnny will find Steve crying, which he never mentions- he’ll just sit down as per usual, which Steve appreciates. Steve almost never finds Johnny crying though. Johnny doesn’t cry much.

Okay tangent- I love how Steve and Johnny are low-key foils. Like Steve always seems tough but then cries when pushed to his limit, while Johnny always seems skittish until he’s under a bunch of pressure- in which case he suddenly is confident. (Not necessarily thriving obviously, but confident yk? Like grinning while saving those kids in the fire.) I know SE Hinton probably didn’t intend that at all, but it’s just such an interesting detail to me. One of these days I’ll put it into words better

Johnny’s jeans-jacket is a hand-me-down from either Steve or Two-Bit. (I can’t decide which lol) (obviously Dally would make sense too, but honestly I think it’d add more depth to flesh out Johnny’s relationships with the other members of the gang)

After the events of the book, Two-Bit starts hanging around the Curtis’s place even more. At first the gang assumes he’s trying to lighten the mood. It’s only after he gets sent to the cooler for a month due to drunk driving that they realize he was actually hanging around so much because he was trying to keep his kid sister from seeing him so drunk…

Two-Bit likes to joke that he keeps failing junior year so that him and his sister can graduate together. Which is a very bad idea since his sister is a year younger than Ponyboy.

Sodapop often feels like he’s only good for looking pretty and not all that useful or interesting otherwise. He likes himself, but when he stops to think about it too much, he starts to wonder if he really has anything going for him at all

My H/C for Steve’s home life is that his Mom is sick w/ like cancer or something. Before she got sick, Steve’s life was pretty alright for an eastsider- he and his dad fought, but they always made up for the most part. They weren’t perfect, but they loved each other. But after she got sick, she wasn’t there to mediate between Steve and his Dad anymore, and the fighting got worse and worse. And then Steve’s dad started drinking more and it was pretty downhill from there. Steve’s Dad still loves him, but sometimes Steve wishes that he didn’t. If he didn’t, then he could hate him. But his dad does love him, so he can’t get himself to.

Steve and Dally taught Johnny to drive when they were all like fourteen-fifteen-ish. Johnny is a very reckless driver. He loves speeding.

Johnny also loves fast roller coasters and stuff.

Dally doesn't ‘cuz he’s low-key scared of heights- he likes riding broncos and rodeos, but put him at the top of a roller coaster and he’s convinced that it’s gonna break and he’s gonna die. He pretends he doesn’t mind. The only people who know he’s scared of them are Johnny, and before she died, Mrs. Curtis.

Steve has a napoleon complex. Johnny, who is shorter than him by a few inches, likes to bully him for it sometimes

Ponyboy and Cherry don’t interact much in the school year after the book, but in the summer after, they start to hang out. Eventually they become pretty close. They fangirl over Paul Newman together

Ponyboy still doesn’t let Cherry read his theme though until years later

Marcia and Two-Bit re-meet a few months after the book. (Two-Bit is really scared that she’s embarrassed to be dating him, and Marcia is really scared that he’s embarrassed to be dating her. Neither of them are embarrassed. They both adore each other.)

Two-Bit likes to watch Marcia barrel racing. One time while he’s there, he runs into Ponyboy watching Cherry barrel race and immediately tells everyone much to Pony’s chagrin

Evie knows a little bit about cars, and she sometimes helps out at the DX during summers. Steve is so whipped for her lol (and Soda too Steve has two hands)

Evie and Sylvia are besties, but Steve and Sylvia hate each other. They act civil in front of Evie, but as soon as her back is turned they’re growling at each other like dogs. (Well Steve is. Sylvia just acts condescending as hell. Sometimes it goes over his head, so Steve knows she’s insulting him but isn’t sure what the insult is/means. Which makes Steve kinda want to kill her.)

Steve and Soda are low-key co-dependent. (Steve more so- Soda has his family at least, while to Steve, Soda and Evie are his whole world pretty much) It’s probably not super healthy, and both of them are vaguely aware of that, but are trying not to think about it too hard rn

Ponyboy’s friend group in high school consists of Curly Shepard, Mark Jennings, Scout Jenkins (from the tv show), and eventually, in her senior year, Cherry Valance. (There’s others too but those are the main ones.)

Pony dates Cathy Carlson for a while too, idk if they’re good for each other or not- I kinda like the idea of them being a sweet couple tbh, but no one else on here seems to care about them so I haven’t really explored the idea much lol

In a Dally lives au, Mark Jennings and Dally end up spending a bit of time together through Pony, and at some point they realize that they’re half-brothers lol. Mark is a deeply obnoxious little brother to have, and he drives Dally nuts on purpose. Weirdly I think Dally’s a relatively good influence on him, as much as someone like Dally can be. And Dally does care for Mark, though not as much as he cares for Johnny- Mark is, in his head, not exactly his responsibility.

Well I have (so many) more, but I think that’s enough for now lol. Point is, even though I haven’t drawn in a minute, I love these characters and their romanticized version of 1960s Tulsa so much and I think about them way too often lol

(dw once i get more into the swing of school I’ll be doin more art!)

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twigg96 · 1 year

Text

Food Poisoning

Daddy! Daryl X Reader

Place: Alexandria

Warnings: Literally food poisoning, vomit, a little fart joke, Kids being kids about being sick, Sickness

POV - You

Summary - After having stew with some tainted meat in it your three kiddos (Phoenix - 11, Beau - 6, and Lillian - 2) get a bad case of food poisoning. Just as kids do Beau comes in to tell his parents exactly what happened feeling traumatized and violated after he "threwed up".

The night had started off so genuinely nice. Normal even. For the turn that is. You had made dinner from the rabbit and squirrel Daryl hunted earlier in the day. It had been a hotter day than either of you realized it would be. But you never let that deter you from your duties. Daryl had warned you that the heat of the day may have spoilt some of the meat. And that he had lost one of the rabbits. He got a bad shot on it and when he finally found it, it was long dead with an arrow deep in its broken leg. He simply added it to his string not thinking anything of it. Wasn’t until later in the hunt he thought better of it and decided to chuck it… well he thought he tossed the right one at least. After a while he wasn’t so sure anymore. So he asked you to be extra vigilant while cooking that night. To sniff the meat and make sure nothing was camping out inside before tossing it in the fire to be cooked.

You had listened. Truly you did. You had washed and smelled the meat as you cleaned and skinned it. Nothing smelled bad and so you went as far as to make a little stew for the whole community with the meat and some of Rick’s vegetables he grew in his garden. Everyone in the community seemed to love it. They ate it up vigorously and basked in the post fullness bliss of a good meal. You watched your kids play out in the yard with the other neighborhood children. When night fell after the kids had gone to bed, you and Daryl even felt adventurous enough to get a little handsy before falling into blissful sleep.

Or that’s what the archer would have liked to have happened. But seeing as he was ripped from the calming embrace of sleep in the midst of REM he would have to argue otherwise… “Daddy…” A small and timid voice had called out into the darkness of the night. At first Daryl had believed it was just part of his dream. The one where none of the hell they lived in existed and he and his family lived in the peace he once knew. “Daddy…” The voice whispered nearer this time. Cutting straight through the lovely dream he had been having. Blinking awake slowly Daryl growled, slapping around blindly for the electric lamp sitting on the bedside table. With a click Daryl’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest. Beau stood a mere two inches away from the edge of the bed, only his head could be seen poking from over the side as he clutched his teddy bear close to his chest. “Daddy.” Beau whispered shakily, his lip pouting out and his eyes wide and full of tears. “Yeah?” Daryl mumbled tiredly as he tried to put together why his son was in his room in the dead of night. Sitting up in bed, the sheets falling to his exposed chest he looked over to you and sighed. You were starting to stir. Blinking away the garish light. Damn… you needed all the sleep you could get.

“What… what do you want, Beau?” Daryl asked tiredly, reaching over you to grab a cigarette from your end table. “Well..” Beau started shuffling his feet anxiously. Daryl cocked a brow at the towheaded boy placing the cig in his mouth and flicking the lighter trying to get it to light. “Daddy… I threwed up.” He mumbled with a sob.” The words froze Daryl in his place. Maybe he it was just his foggy sleep deprived brain that was miss hearing what his son just said. But as his wife sat up stare at the two of them like they both started to grow wings and speak in tongues Daryl knew that he had heard correctly. “What?” You asked rubbing your eyes. Beau sobbed nodding. “Lillian threwed up first! Phoenix got up to check on her and she threwed up on the floor!” Beau sobbed helplessly. The both of you stared at Beau in disbelief and disgust. “So…” you ventured to ask, crawling over to your husband’s side of the bed. “Did you throw up Beau?” The little blonde nods swiping away fat tears and it isn’t until then that Daryl is able to make out the new stains on his son’s shirt and pants. “After I farted on the floor.” He whined. Daryl and you share a confused look. Farted… on the floor? What the hell does that mean? OH FUCK NO. Pulling his cigarette from his mouth Daryl gaped at Beau. “What do ya mean… farted on the flo- Beau!” He huffed twisting to the side of the bed. “Did ya shit on the floor?!” he hissed. Feeling your hand on his arm he tried to calm down but the sound of their youngest starting to scream and cry from their shared room and their eldest yelling “Mommy! Daddy! Lilly needs a bath!” was all too overwhelming for him at the moment. “Daryl.” Your calming voice drowned out the madness as your hand squeezed his. “I’ll work on cleaning up. Just… find a bucket… or two… and get them bathed and back in bed. Please. We got this, we’ve been through worse.” And suddenly Daryl knew. You were right. You always were.

Standing with a groan, Daryl was grateful that he was wearing just boxers when Beau walked directly into his legs for a hug. God… kids and their need to be touched when they're sick. Scooping him into his arms Daryl sighed the smell of vomit was strong, but nothing he couldn’t handle after the hell they’ve lived through. “Sure ya don’t want me ta clean up too? I can-” Daryl muttered walking towards the door, Beau’s head already nuzzled under his chin seeking some semblance of comfort. “Daryl.” You had chided, cutting him off. “We’re a team. I got it, don’t worry.” With a small nod he hummed walking into the kid’s room to access the damage… and it was worse than he imagined. Scowling he sighed not seeing either of his daughters. “Phoenix!” He yelled, shuffling Beau in his arms, starting to search for them. The piercing wail of his two year old would normally have been terrifying given the world they live in but seeing as she was in the bathroom with his eldest at the moment he was simply annoyed. The water for the tap was running and when he popped his head in to see what was happening he rolled his eyes and groaned. “Phoenix… baby. Are you tryin’ ta drown yer sister?” He muttered trying so hard to make light of the situation. Phoenix’s head whipped around as she stared at him, the tub getting dangerously full as she held a fully clothed Lilly in the tub.

Moving to place Beau on the floor Daryl kneeled beside Phoenix, turning the tap off and taking Lilly into his arms, sopping wet and all. “I was just trying to get her and her clothes clean, dad.” Phoenix whispered looking slightly ashamed and embarrassed. Taking a deep breath Daryl sighed, bouncing the screaming toddler doing his best not to emulate his own father in this situation by screaming in the face of his own children. “T-Thank you…” He bit out. It was a start at least that’s what he assumed. “Now… do me a favor…” He muttered lowly. “Get some towels for me, and some clean pajamas for all you kids and come back. Yer all gettin’ a damned bath.”

It wasn’t until the early morning light streamed through the blinds that the rancid smell finally seemed to be mostly gone. You had done your best to clean everything up with only homemade vinegar as your main cleaning supply as everything else was running low. The windows were wide open despite the cool weather but even that didn’t deter your three hellions from getting some sleep. The two of you had decided to simply toss and burn the sheets and pajamas the kids had been sleeping in and just use old ones until you could find new ones on a run. As the two of you stood side by side watching the fire in the brisk morning air you couldn’t help but laugh. “Wha’?” Daryl nearly hissed, glaring at you. “Nothing… just… kinda feels normal ya know? We haven’t had to do that since before the turn when Phoenix was little.” You whispered thinking of the time Phoenix had simply crawled into your bed and proceeded to vomit all over Daryl like she was in the exorcist. Daryl stared into the fire but a small smile crossed his lips. “Yeah… suppose so…” Holding your hand he began to rub his thumb along the back of your hand. Any sense of normalcy in this life was better than none he assumed.

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doggoboigaugau · 2 years

Text

Stray dog (Part 3)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 / Part 5

Pairings: Ghost x Soap x Male Reader

Long story short: my old acc got terminated for no reason so I'm reposting all this💀👍

Summary: Soap invited Male Reader to join Ghost and his favorite documentaries about dinosaur fossils :D (Ghost very loves dinosaurs y'all cannot tell me otherwise).

Word count: 1950

Warnings: Nothing. It's all fluff this time.

You lost track of time and ended up stopping only when your whole body screamed at you to rest. Looking up from the training gears, you realized that there was no one left in the room. It was a habit of you to ignore everyone and everything surrounding you when it is not necessary, or maybe it’s more like a coping mechanism, since this little tricky skill prevented you from taking in redundant information, such as a close group of men joking around with each other.

This very common sight in the military and especially in the training ground always succeeded in rendering you uncomfortable, and a vague but stingy feeling prevails over your chest, sometimes so badly that it even made breathing difficult.

No matter how hard you tried to brush it aside, dismissing it as something trivial and irrelevant, you knew damn well the cause of it: You once wished to belong to a group of friends that were so close that you all would spend time doing everything together, going on mission, training, drinking, and getting drunk together at the bar. Obviously, it had never happened. It never would, judging from how every time it was only you who got left behind, drowning yourself in overpriced alcohol and your own overwhelming emotions.

It was pitch black outside as you left the training centre. You dragged your fatigued body back to the base of your Task Force, but surprisingly, in contrast to your current physical state, your mind felt empty for now. In a good way. No burdening streams of thoughts, not a single fuck given about how others saw you. You felt kind of free.

‘Guess it’s a good point for not being around people.’ On your sweat-strained face drew a genuine smile. Some people would think that it was weird to smile over something like this, not having any close people around you and just spending your entire day loitering around, doing something you considered to be productive but by no means enjoyable. To them, you were not living a life. You were only surviving through it.

Not that you would complain though. Nor were you in the position to be able to complain about it.

Your blurred vision and the dull pain in your chest reminded you that you hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, which was almost 10 hours ago. Slowly making your way to the kitchen, you decided to turn a blind eye to the kitchen sink and approached the fridge, hoping that they’d be kind enough to leave you some leftovers.

What greeted you in the fridge confounded you as you looked at a carefully prepared dish wrapped in aluminum foil with a sticky pink note on top of it.

‘want to call ya 4 dinner earlier but ya seem to enjoy the training a lot. plz eat this when ya done with the training~’ was written on the piece of paper together with a little ugly and distorted heart shape, which made you chuckle. It was not difficult to guess who left this for you. You shook your head in amusement while putting the dish into the microwave oven.

Sitting down at the empty table in the dimly lit dining room, you slowly enjoyed the meal that Soap had saved for you. Then again, amid the quiet atmosphere that was free of any stimulations, your mind began to do the thing that it excelled in, drifting away. Your unusually calm thoughts appeared like a grainy film rolling before your eyes, replaying every delightful moment that you had shared with the Scottish and other team members, like when you, Soap, Gaz, and Roach pulled a whole prank on Price during your team’s vacation while Ghost sat behind and watched with amusement in his eyes. Or when you and Roach hid one of Price’s hats unknowing that it was a piece of memorabilia of his old teammate, and as result, making that poor old dad all stressed out finding it everywhere. Or when Price decided to catch you two and make you face the consequences of your actions that time and you were so scared that you never run that fast out of battle before. Or when you had no choice but to hide behind Ghost as he was watching his favorite boring documentaries, and he looked down at you obviously contemplating whether he should help you or not as you tried to convince him with your big puppy eyes. Or when you disobeyed Price’s orders to turn back and save Soap when he fell into the enemy’s trap and was pushed into the corner.

You laughed to yourself at this point, remembering vividly what a mess that time was. You two almost blindly fired your guns at the swarm of enemies circling you. As you barely escaped, Soap cursed very loudly in Scottish while his hand threw bombs toward your enemies. It was a mission that you would never forget, a piece of memory that you’d take to the grave, not only because of how badly injured you were and the prolonged period of time you had to spend in the hospital, but also because of how Soap looked at you. After that near-death experience, whenever your eyes and his met, his eyes evidently softened, and you enjoyed every little second of it. It made you feel like, eventually, you were special to someone, like you weren’t just anybody, but someone unique that was closely linked to a hardly forgettable remembrance. It raised your hope–something that you had thought to never regain, since at least when you died, there would still be one person who would keep the image of you inside one of their billion fragments of memory.

Of course, after the certain mission, both you and Soap were heavily reprimanded by Kate and Price, you for the obvious reason of disobeying orders, and Soap for his stupid addiction to blowing things up, which worsened you two’s already horrendous injuries because at the time of the explosion you were still too close to the spot.

“What are you smiling about?” You jumped at the sudden voice that broke the room’s silence.

Soap laughed at your reaction, “Why are you so tense?” He sat down, being so near to you that your thighs touched each other. He threw his big muscular arm over your shoulder, grinning broadly, “Temme, what is so fun that you smile like that?”

“It’s nothing.” You blushed at how close you two were, silently praying that the light of the room was too feeble for him to notice.

He pinched your face, causing you to grimace, “I don’t believe ya. It’s so rare to see ya smile so cutely like this. Must have some special reason.”

Definitely you could not tell him that you were thinking of the team, and especially him, so you decided to keep silent and enjoy your meal. Maintaining eye contact was like torture to you, so your eyes were just glued to the plate until you finished. Therefore, you also missed his eyes, along with how he looked at you.

From Soap’s point of view, all that he could see at that moment was how lovely his boy was. The way his big puppy eyes widened when he suddenly talked. The way his body which was athletic but so slender when compared to Soap’s trembled slightly as he jumped. How the faint blush quickly deepened and then spread from his handsome adorable face to his delicate neck. The nice and warm feeling that Soap’s fingers felt when he pinched the boy’s cheek. And also how his long eyelashes shadowed his eyes as he looked down at his plate of food. It was so lovely that Soap volunteered to be trapped in this moment forever.

As you’d done eating and washing the dish, you came back into the dining room and saw Soap still sitting there.

The Scot chuckled at your expression, “What is that face, Y/n? Are you that annoyed because I’m still here?”

You unknowingly pouted, which only made you look even cuter in his eyes, “No.”

“Ghost is watching his stupid boring documentaries again. Wanna join?”

“You came here from the TV room?”

“Yeah. Now do you come or not?”

You scoffed, “Are you inviting me nicely or just gonna coerce me into it anyway?”

Soap didn’t reply, just amusingly shrugged his shoulders.

“Fine, I’ll come.”

“That’s my boy!” The older man approached you, then threw his arm over your shoulder again. Judging from how you barely kept up with his pace in this awkward position, he definitely coerced you into this by all means.

When you two arrived, the light in the TV room was turned off, and the only source of light left was the TV screen. Ghost was sitting on the sofa alone, eyes glued to the screen that was playing some kind of dinosaur fossils, while Price was sleeping in his favorite spot–the single couch. You swiftly looked around to see if Gaz and Roach were here or not, only to find the two idiots hugging each other on the carpet, drooling and snoring loudly.

Ghost turned his head to look at you and Soap as you were literally pushed into the room by the Scot. His out-of-nowhere eagerness strangely made you laugh.

“Daddy chill.” You jokingly said and sat down beside Ghost, completely overlooking how Soap’s flippant expressions froze for brief seconds.

“Finished your dinner?” Ghost suddenly spoke up.

You were taken aback simply because the masked man hardly ever cared what others were doing with their life outside of missions, particularly for some trivial things like taking care of your daily needs.

“Y-yes, Sir!”

Soap burst into laughter, so hard that he fell to your side, hugging his belly.

“LMAO! What was that, Y/n??? You’re scared of Ghost that much???”

“What? What???” You frowned in confusion. You were even more confused when you heard a soft chuckle from the masked man that was sitting on your left.

“Why are you two laughing? There’s nothing funny!”

“It is funny! Do you see how you shudder like a puppy under Ghost’s glare? I wish I had recorded it!”

“Gosh! I hate you Soap!” You growled under your breath as you launched your whole body into him while Soap was still barely able to put himself together from his stupid sense of humor.

You two soon began to fight each other, giggling like two mischievous kids, completely forgetting that there was Ghost right next to you, who probably got accidental punches and kicks continuously by the unaware manchildren. However, the masked man was not mad at you two for disturbing him from enjoying his favorite show at all; instead, he often stole glances at you two with pure delight in his eyes. Seeing you finally being able to relax among the team was a sight that he wanted to witness all his life. It would take more time for you to pull down the walls you had built around yourself and let them come inside, but for now, this was already enough.

After a while, the giggling and fighting noises abated. You were sleeping soundly, face on Soap’s broad chest and arms around his waist. Soap’s eyes softened as he looked at how peaceful you were at the moment, before looking up to meet Ghost’s. The two men stayed in their position, didn’t move an inch, until Soap fell his eyelids become heavier and fell asleep as well, and Ghost turned off the TV, thereby extinguishing the only source of light in the room. He rested his head on your lower back, slowly drifting off.

To be continued...

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gloveslut · 25 days

Text

come on now. just fuck me already.

you have to face it, don't you?

why does it even matter right now?

i won't do anything against your will, but i won't let you make yourself an exception when it comes to love.

...the fuck you just said? i'm not here for your stupid ass words, fuck me, or—

or what? it won't change anything. a-ny-thing, you hear me? but what it will provoke is you leaving. i can't stand it anymore. i want you to start talking to me as an equal.

i treat you like a person.

a person who can only help you with one thing?

well, at least, that's not a lie. what are you gonna do about it? i don't think you're a good person, either. i don't really wanna talk to you.

just curious, you want me to be upset?

i don't know. you hurt me. in theory, it would sound logical.

the thing is, if it really was something, you wouldn't even ask me to fuck you.

...so what?

so you're stupid. i love you and they're not just some words.

still. words aren't material.

then i should just fuck you for you to know that i'm madly in love with you?

exactly, man. just do it, you wanted to show me, do it.

answer the question first.

i already did. i don't understand what else you expect me to do.

i'm asking you to be honest. that is all.

"that is all"? how many times a day you act genuine? how fucking many?

we were talking about you.

we were. just to make you feel better. you're so smart!

okay, i'll just fuck you, then. forget it.

you can't do this to me, fuck... no, you won't. you'll sit here and tell me everything.

what?

you know what.

i don't.

then you don't love me.

that's not— wait, don't you dare twist my words!

are you for real right now? did you forget who we are? you won't stop surprising me... okay. i just don't know how to put it into words. you're better at it. tell me something. don't be so ridiculous at my house.

...i wanna marry you.

you're nuts.

and you are not?

that's the point!

i imagined it to be more romantic.

shut up. you can't breathe without talking bullshit. ... i wanna marry you, too.

thank you, now it's definitely romantic. that is so kind of you to make my wishes come true. you're my sunshine!

shut up, my fucking god—

you're giggling like a girl at the stupidest joke ever and i'm supposed to shut up? i must write this down. you didn't hide your disgusting vices for a whole minute. that's wonderful.

...you know, this is really nice.

that's what people say just before i run from them as fast as I can. where have you hidden this shitty optimism? i should permanently stop fucking you.

god, if you can't get your shit together and response with something more thoughtful, seriously, just kiss me.

that's too much to ask, honestly.

i thought, you loved me.

i did. but do i?

...you don't leave me a choice.

oh no, what am i ever gonna do.

...you know, sometimes i just feel like a monster. i mean, i am, but—

man, wait-wait-wait, we talked about it—

as fucking teenagers?

yes. does it change the point?

of course it does! lots of things changed since then, there was even a time you said you would never sleep with me, come on.

...sorry.

for what?

i just fucked up. keep talking. i won't open my mouth.

you are being really weird, but yeah. you can't— hell. well, you did prove me that i'm not, but i— when you left— life is a rollercoaster and— ...i just couldn't think otherwise when you weren't there to repeat it to me every day. all i was wondering about is if you'd ever come back and say it again. ...fuck, don't stare at me as if i didn't see you in shittier states.

you meant 'vulnerable'. it's not bad, you know? i don't care if you think i'm bad, but that isn't. sorry, i can stop, but i just— nevermind.

what were you gonna say?

i— um, i love you? my brain kinda shut off, i'm— i'm sorry.

god. i don't think you're—

it doesn't really matter, listen—

no. it does. i love you. i don't think you're neither bad or good. i just know that i love you and I need you to be here. i need you to be at least a tiny part of my life. i don't want you to save me. like, i— well, i just don't intend it to seem like i don't want anything from you but help. i want you with every one of your quirks as long as they're real. and i want you with all the pretending. i just... love you.

well, now we're both stupid.

yeah.

so, i— i need to go.

no. you don't. you can't just leave it like that. i know you can't.

okay, you won.

so fast, too.

shut up!

you mocking me or something?

no, shut up, i have no comment on your bullshit, but i love you, i don't know anything else.

i feel you. it's so stupid, but now i want a kiss. like, a real one.

i can't—

hey, you already did once today.

it's not—

if it helps, you make me love myself sometimes. just with the looks you give me. jesus, i can't handle the talking, you know.

but neither do i! i love you and i can't stop saying it, it's— it's ridiculous.

i love you. see? it's not that bad. i love you.

okay, now i don't have a choice.

why do we have to say it before we kiss?

'cause we don't want to?

definitely not.

shit, i know. but— it just feels better?

maybe. but i think we should stop this madness. just tell me when you wanna kiss me so bad that you barely keep your voice normal, okay? it's easier.

god, did you hear what you just said?

what now?

okay, you won another time. fuck, fine, i love you and i wanna kiss you so bad that i— i don't know, i want it to stop every time i do, but i really want to, and i— it's not any less stupid.

shut the fuck up and tell me what you think.

...it feels safe when you're on my lips.

i'm in awe.

i told you—

no, i am. keep in mind, i'm the one who loves himself only occasionally, right?

i love you. you must do the same thing.

i don't know, but i love you.

i love you. you love me and yourself.

i love you. i love— i'm not that stupid to buy it, so no, thanks.

but you were about to say it! and loving me can't come without discussing your beauty. you're not anything you think you are. i see you for who you are, i know better.

shut up, jackass. kiss me.

do it whenever you feel like it.

in fact, it's just a few times in our whole lifetime.

huh, why?

ì don't wanna sound more stupid.

you're not, smarty.

you're making me blush. it's dumb.

well, it might be, but you are not. ...i love it when you blush, the blame is on me.

fuck, you're so mean.

back to the topic, why do you refuse to kiss me whenever you want to? maybe, you're right and you should just leave me alone. or you shouldn't. what's on your mind?

...i think it's— um, you're just really pretty, you know?

well, it's not all.

...ye-es. i just think it would be great to make you, like— uh, i can't.

you fuck me twice a day with no second thoughts.

well, it's not like i— ...okay. it would be great to make you come just by kissing you.

man, even i am not ashamed of it as an idea. you physically can't come without getting called a whore, after all.

it's more intimate! it's— fuck, you're just very stupid. you won't even tell me if you mind it or not. it's not shamelessness.

...oh, i think i— i would be able to do that. you know, i won't say no to you.

you said you're not ashamed.

fuck you. we're just moved to another level recently and i'm still adjusting.

so i can freely marry you?

hell yes you can? just don't— uh, now i just— i need to feel good right now.

as if you're not feeling well?

as i'm in another kind of need, but i don't wanna tell you. ...well, i need to feel— i need to feel loved. words don't work. i want you to say everything you need, just in— in another form, okay?

so i should stop telling you how—

no.

no?

i said what i said. for the love of god, shut up and do something. i need you.

...thank you for, like, everything.

show me you're thankful.

you asked me, um— about why i— why i wouldn't just kiss you any time i want and...

yeah, right, i'm listening.

so, um. i don't think i deserve it.

...that's it?

yep.

but i don't understand.

see, i told you, it's safer— and i— you know, i don't wanna be all negative, but— i don't think i should feel safe too often.

lord, and that man preaches selfcare. ...you think?

yeah. it's— it's weakness. i trust you...

but?

there's no 'but's. i trust you. i'm okay with being weak with you. however it has its effect on my routine. i love you and it's the huge part of me and my life, so i should try even harder to not get blinded by this and lose the grip. ...put myself in danger.

but you know it's just... healthy?

i guess, but— i can't.

there must be more.

...you're right. but, you know, do you really think that the person like me has a right to be normal?

everybody does.

you make yourself an exception, so i think it's not—

i'm unhuman. it's okay to do this, it's not the same.

...can i hug—

yes.

you let me make you love yourself?

i don't care what that is anymore. ...man, i truly love you for you. for who you are, who you seem to be, who you want to be, who you were... i love you.

you're really stupid at this point.

okay. i don't give a fuck.

that's crazy.

that's crazy, yeah. i love you. what can i do?

what do you—

for you. i want to do something for you. i want to see your stupid happy face and fuck it after.

well, that's the thing. you can fuck me in a way you think i deserve and only then i could think about it.

we're so stupid.

we are.

so i will try.

you will.

i will.

you so will.

#bsd #soukoku #anime and manga #bungou stray dogs #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #fanfic

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littledollll · 2 years

Note

Hiya! Love your writing and I've been Bing reading all of your stuff!I was wondering if yiu would write Brienne x Femme reader? I love the idea of the reader having like a pre existing relationship with brienne and she confides in brienne about being frustrated she can't find men attractive and Brienne asks her if she's ever found anyone attractive and the reader gets shy and they eventually end up being all fluffy and maybe smut? Brienne in a strap?

Clueless

Brienne of Tarth x reader

A/n: lowkey think I want my Brienne fics to exist in the same universe (being “Only you”) so ima do that unless it’s requested otherwise

Warnings: really just fluff and love confessions, smut, strap ons, oral (R receiving)

You were waiting for Brienne to get back from the bathhouse in her quarters, mindlessly looking through her stuff just trying to pass time when she came in, hair slightly damp and messy, comfortable clothes and towel around her neck, gods she looked so good- “what on earth are you doing?” Her voice interrupted your thinking as she caught you standing over her desk looking through her things. “Uhh obviously making sure your room is up to code, kings orders!”

“Oh yeah? You wouldn’t happen to be snooping around my personal belongings” her tone was teasing, as she closed the door behind her, crossing her arms. Her voice drove you mad. You played it off though. “Snooping? Me? Neverrr” “looking for something you need?” A genuine question now. “No, really I was just curious and passing time, just waiting for you.” You answered truthfully, before throwing yourself on her bed and turning to look at her.

Brienne tilted her head. “What’s on your mind?” “I can’t believe you said the word ‘snooping’” you laughed. She rolled her eyes at you, also making her way to her bed before sitting down, you laid opposite directions, you fully on laying on the bed while Brienne’s back was against the footboard. “I apologize for my informality, princess.” She joked but looked at your serious again. “Now tell me what you’re actually thinking about” you groan and roll over hiding your face in her pillow “24 years, Bri, I’ve been dating men 24 years, and I’m starting questioning if I’m even attracted to them“ did you causally just come out to her?

“You’re not, I thought we knew this” She replied, You threw the pillow at her. “Don’t be mean! Also what do you mean..” she caught the pillow and placed it back on the bed. “Well none of your relationships have worked with them, you’ve never had a sexual encounter you’ve enjoyed-“ you hid your face again. “how can you say that so casually!” She grinned. “That’s what I used to think when you came to me to talk about it, we’ve come full circle”

“I was going to apologize but I’m not that sorry.” You said, meeting her eyes, after a beat she spoke up again. “So what do you find attractive?” Was she going for a record on how many times she can make you blush or something? “I don’t wanna talk about that, Bri-“ she interrupted you. “It’s me. If not with me then who else are you going to talk to, I need names incase I’m being replaced.” You exaggerated a gasp acting offended. “I would never! How dare you think so low of me.”

“Tell me then.” Brienne grabbed the pillow she previously put down and put it on the footboard, leaning her head back and humming. “I really don’t think I should-“ she sighed in fake annoyance. “By gods, if you don’t just spit it out already-“ you sat up in preparation and took a breath. “okay fine it’s you! You and your stupid messy hair, your voice, who you are compared to me versus the rest of the world, how protective you are, how I have to tilt my head to look at you, the tone you use whenever we have playful banter and the way you just- exist. It’s you. I like you. Actually I love you.”

“Dammit that feels great to say out loud actually!- And I know, I know you’re my guard and friend and it’s so inappropriate and you probably don’t feel the same way-” one minute you were rambling and the next her lips were on yours, pulling you into a bruising kiss, to which you eagerly responded, wishing to get closer, you moved into her lap, arms wrapping around her neck. When you pulled away you were both panting, Brienne looked at you with pure adoration before speaking. “I hope that clears any doubts you might have had about my feelings towards you?”

You rested your forehead against hers, smiling. “I don’t know Bri, might need a little more reassurance..” She hummed, pushing you to lay on the bed before she walked off, opening one of her drawers she pulled out a strap-on, the visible surprise on your face made her chuckle. “Undress.” Of course you complied, she undressed along with you and put the toy on, crawling over you on the bed, she made you feel extremely small, you loved it.

“I’ll guess you didn’t have much time to pry around my room that well, princess.” Not waiting for you to reply, she gave you a quick peck before moving down your body. “m- no I didn’t-“ once she reached your center she looked up at you, silently asking for permission, you gave her a nod. Brienne wasted no time, immediately her lips were sucking your clit making you whimper and grind against her. She snuck two fingers into your entrance, stretching you out, she pumped into you a few times before adding a third, making you scream.

She allowed you to ride her face as you got close and closer to your release but she pulled away just in time to prevent it. “No no no please-! Bri I was so close!” She kissed your navel, crawling up to meet you, her hand smoothed over your cheek as she kissed you again. You moaned as you tasted yourself on her tongue, needy hips grinding against the strap that was resting between your legs. “So needy.. I’ll make you scream, princess.”

Her arms rested on either side of your head as she aligned herself and slowly pushed into you, you sighed as she bottomed out. Briennes head rested between your neck, marking your shoulder and collarbone as she started pounding harder and faster into you. Your nails scratched her back at her reckless pounding, making her moan, you could hear the bed bump against the wall and almost screamed when one of her hands started rubbing your clit.

“Please oh- please let me cum please I need it-“ she complied, speeding up her thrusts until she felt your thighs clench around her, she kissed you, muffling your scream as she slowly came to a stop with you shaking beneath her. She pulled out and took off the strap before laying beside you and pulling you to lay on top of her, hand soothing your back as you recovered from your orgasm. She kissed your head when you nuzzled further into her neck. The silence was comforting, you were falling asleep when you heard her speak. “I love you too, my love.”

#gwendoline christie #brienne of tarth #brienne x reader #brienne of tarth x reader #brienne of tarth smut #ser brienne

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