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#now i most certainly have become acquainted with them
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i paid the toll for glory (fresh natural orange juice and meals by the sea) in blood, sweat and tears (i got stung like a thousand times by mosquitoes and it was so very hot and so very humid)
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celestiamour · 2 months
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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ it's a gift (you keep those) ]❜
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ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel
╰₊✧ giving him a plushie that reminded you of him┊1k words
setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: fluff, crushes, probably ooc but he’s so cute & wade is hard to write for, written for dp&w logan so idk if he got gifts in xmen, i forgot about laura, they are in touch and have a wonderful father-daughter relationship, i’m so sorry, edited
➤ author's note: i have so many thoughts but too incompetent to write
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logan’s never sure who will appear when he opens the door as wade’s quite the extrovert, either vanessa or one of his many other friends whom he’s now become somewhat acquainted with, but he certainly wasn’t expecting to meet the familiar eyes of the cute neighbor who lived a few doors down. he nervously scratched the back of his head, suddenly becoming aware of his shabby appearance, “uh, are you looking for wade?”
“no, i was actually looking for you!” god, your smile is so bright, it’s blinding. he normally hates perfume of any sort as it’s so overpowering to his heightened senses, but the one that you wore smelled so lovely like always. is that a new shade of lip gloss you’re wearing? it really suits you. (why on earth is he noticing all of these details out of the blue? he needs to snap out of whatever spell you put on him after being introduced when he first showed up and only interacting in passing since then).
“looking for me?” he repeated, in disbelief, trying his best not to allow his surprise to slip into his voice. considering he isn’t from this dimension and not the most agreeable person to be around, he had no friends of his own yet and hasn’t been visited by anyone since he got here. a beat of panic struck him, thinking that he was in trouble for something and you came to complain. he really couldn’t think of any other reason you were here for him even though you were so cheerful.
you were carrying some shopping bags with you, dropping them on the ground before reaching into one and pulling out a large fuzzy plushie of a gray cat hidden under layers of glittery tissue paper, “i saw this cutie when i went shopping with my friends and thought it looked like you!” you held it out for him to take, looking so proud of the stuffed animal.
he hesitated for a second before accepting it, trying to take in the fact that you were reminded of him in your day-to-day life. it made his heart flutter, and he found himself dumbfounded by the feeling. he was frequently teased by his roomate about his little “crush” on you, claiming that it was oh so obvious and that the sooner he accepted it, the better, but he never realized until now how pathetic he was when it came to you. was the wolverine really getting butterflies like a fucking schoolgirl in his old-ass age? thank god no one was home right now to bully him about it, he would never hear the end of it.
“it does not look like me,” he scoffed playfully after a quick examination.
“no, it definitely does! it’s a big, grumpy kitty—” you took a step closer to hold it with him, pointing at all the similarities you observed, although it was clear you were exaggerating for laughs. “see the little frowny face and ears? it could be your identical twin separated from birth! willy mentioned that you act like a cat most of the time, and i think it fits perfectly!”
the smile he didn’t realize was plastered on his face faltered at the last piece of information, grateful that you didn’t notice. that idiot has been talking about him to you? he might as well forget about any chance of getting with you, because knowing how he yaps without a filter and loves to play matchmaker, you probably think he’s a freak of some sort. “only good things, i hope…”
you giggled, the sweetest sound he ever heard. “of course, he’s really fond of you… well, maybe a bit too fond, but you already know about that!” you opened your mouth to continue the conversation or say something else, but your phone started ringing and you excused yourself, looking a little shy as you grabbed up your bags. “i’ll talk to you later!” you sounded so excited about the prospect of it before leaving, your voice and footsteps becoming fainter as you walked back to your place.
“wait, you didn’t take back the cat—”
“it’s a gift! you keep those!”
“oh… right…”
he lingered for a moment, unable to say much in response since you left in such a rush. when was the last time someone gave him a present? staring at this brand new item, he still couldn’t see the resemblance in any way, but knowing that it was a gift from you gave him a rare feeling of happiness which returned every time he looked at it from then on among his few possessions. 
“oh my goodness, what is this adorable thing?!” wade exclaimed when he saw it sitting on the couch where logan slept, picking it up to gawk at before tossing it up in the air and catching it before it hit the floor. “ooh, let me guess, it’s a gift from her, isn’t it?” 
the mutant groaned at his mocking tone. “put it down before you ruin it with your grubby hands,” he commanded, snatching it from his grasp (rough enough to make his point clear, but carefully enough not to tear it apart). his roommate didn’t even bother pretending to be offended like he usually would as he was simply overjoyed that his “ship” was coming true. “it doesn’t mean anything, don’t make it weird.”
“it doesn’t mean anything?! how can you say that when it’s going to be the first gift you give to your first child together—”
“first what??”
“nevermind, what are you gonna name it?”
“i have to name it?”
“have you never owned a stuffed animal before? you have to name it! how heartbroken is she going to be when she asks what you named it and you say that you haven’t done that?! she’s gonna think that you don’t value her gifts!” you would think the world was going to end if he didn’t do so if you heard the way he was speaking.
“fine, i’ll name it…” he looked deeply into the toy’s soulless eyes, noting how soft the outer material was against his calloused hand, “... fluffy…”
“that’s such a shitty name—”
“shut the fuck up, it’s been decided.”
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dizzyjaden · 7 months
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❝ WHY ARE YOU SO COLD? ❞
Scaramouche x Gn! Reader
♤ Summary: You get injured on a fatui mission in Inazuma with Scaramouche <3
♤ Warnings: Head injury from blunt force (not severe) that makes you woozy
♤ A/N: Thanks for the attention on the genshin men hcs post! So many new bunnies here. Sorry if this is a little rushed </3
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
A sharp ring pierces through your ears as you slowly rise from the sudden slumber that had been forced upon you, confusion settling in when you open your eyes to see a blurry hand repeatedly snapping its fingers in front of your face.
"Oh. They aren't dead after all. Go on and thank your luck, boys." A familiar voice speaks. Your vision of blurred shapes and colors slowly adjusts back to normal and finally manages to delineate the image of Scaramouche kneeling down in front of you. Taking in your surroundings, you realize you're on the ground, propped up against a tree, barely sheltered from the downpour of rain, and entirely drenched.
You begin to recall the events that led you here. You can remember that you and the four men that accompanied you were approached by a rather threatening lawachurl that you ended up stuck fighting as they retreated. These men now stood closely together, quivering behind the harbinger examining you. You can't seem to pinpoint the injury you took that caused you to go unconscious, but the dull throbbing in your head wasn't much comfort.
You open your mouth to speak.
"I-"
Scaramouche holds up his index finger directly in front of your face. "Follow my finger please..." He directs your gaze while he carefully moves his hand to the right, and then the left.
"Hm... You might have gotten off easy..." Scaramouche says. "But had I arrived at the scene of your little ruckus a moment later... You have me to thank for your life now, that's for sure."
Your embarrassment visualizes itself by staining your cheeks a bright shade of red. This is your first fatui assignment in Inazuma enacted alongside an actual harbinger, and here you are against a tree with a throb in your head that has certainly become a less-than-admirable sight at this point. On that thought, you brush your hand against your head, it is tender to the touch, but not excruciating.
"Hm... What exactly happened?" Scaramouche asks while standing up straight. "The five of you were supposed to defend the camping grounds."
You are barely acquainted with the four men you were assigned to work with, they do not seem keen on explaining the details of how they abandoned the campground entirely and left you to fight alone. You can not really blame them.
Scaramouche fixates on you instead, awaiting your own explanation rather than hearing it collectively from all of you.
You sigh.
"I recall my four comrades retreating a short while after the battle with the beast began."
Your comrades seem unsure of what to do as Scaramouche turns to face them.
"Is this true? As much as I hate to admit it I wouldn't even be surprised. Fairly new recruits, the lot of you. None of you have been... Broken in just yet." He murmured, a whisk of malice floating in his tone.
Finally, one of your colleagues steps forward and clears his throat.
"It's truly a miracle you arrived when you did, my lord. We retreated because we saw the fight fruitless. There was no way even the five of us could've taken it on."
Scaramouche scoffs at his explanation.
"What a sorry excuse. We are discussing a lawachurl... Yes? There are five of you."
The indigo-haired male sighs heavily and shakes his head. "It only makes sense that the most useless quartet of whiners in Snezhnaya gets thrown at me." He mutters. "I would be less angry, as I am perfectly aware of how unnecessary your company on this mission is. However, your combined incompetence has left someone of potential value injured. That is rather irritating."
The silence is heavy aside from the thundering rain that slaps violently against the terrain. With each moment of quiet that passes, Scaramouche seems to grow more irritable.
"You have nothing more to say?"
The soldiers do not respond. Scaramouche sighs, then lightly claps his hands together and smiles at the group.
"Since you four are clearly out of practice and in desperate need of a little exposure therapy, find me a lawachurl, defeat it, bring me back its horn. Don't come back until you do. You should be thanking me for this opportunity to grow." He orders. "If that doesn't suit your tastes, we can do this... Another way. But it won't be nearly as amusing to you."
"Y-Yes lord harbinger!" The one who spoke before bows swiftly, and practically drags his fearful team off.
Scaramouche glances at you from over his shoulder as you were left alone with him.
"Can you stand?"
Coming from him, any questions feel more akin to orders. Therefore, you begin to shift your weight entirely on the tree behind you, grabbing the trunk with a hand before Scaramouche rushes forward to support you instead. This comes as a surprise to you, but you are in no position to deny his assistance.
"I sincerely apologize... I feel lightheaded, still." You utter, as he pulls you up and allows you to put your weight on his side. His hat instantly protects you from the rain, causing you to breathe a sigh of relief. "This normally would not happen... I'm not used to defending others in battle."
"Well... If those bumbling idiots made the cut into the Fatui, I advise you to get used to it, quickly." Scaramouche said cunningly, beginning to walk you back to the campground. "I absolutely despise when they hand easy assignments to new recruits. They are not required to be here, and it always leads to me babysitting."
You can't help but smile slightly, it's not an everyday occurrence you casually converse with harbingers. Sensing the humor in his tone of voice, you just have to engage a bit.
"Ah, is that what you call sending a group of incompetent cowards off to fight large monsters? Babysitting?"
Scaramouche rolls his eyes.
"Trust me when I say that was the kindest I've ever been in this sort of situation."
As he guides you back to the campsite, your mind trails to various thoughts about how stiff and cold he is against your side. You didn't want to make too big of a deal out of the proximity with him, but it was so unexpected. It feels as though every muscle in his body is firmly tense, and his skin is noticeably cooler than the rain that you had just been nearly submerged in moments ago.
Curiously, you steal a side glance at his face as quickly as you can. It was already obvious to you that he is beautiful, but his features are so picturesque and devoid of flaws that they almost look unreal. Doll-like and hand-crafted. Something about him feels uncanny to you.
"Something on your mind?"
You're snapped out of your trance at his words, you swiftly shake your head and remain quiet the rest of the way.
When the two of you arrive at the campsite, he's quick to help you into a tent.
"Alright, rest well-"
"You're leaving again?" You instinctively cut him off.
He raises an eyebrow at your intervention.
"No, I already completed the mission while the rest of you were here." He stated. "But you should sleep, if you're going to be worth anything tomorrow."
You stare at him wordlessly for a few moments. He doesn't seem bothered by the unoccupied silence for whatever reason, but he does eventually speak up once more.
"What is it?"
You smile. "You are a rather interesting individual. I've worked for you a while, but have never gotten to speak to you one one-on-one before."
Scaramouche seems surprised at this, processing your words for a few short seconds.
"Hm? So, that's what you've been thinking of. I thought you were behaving overly placid for someone who just sustained a head injury... Alright then, I'll give you a bit of my time in compensation for working alongside amateurs today." Scaramouche nodded, joining you in the tent. He sat on his knees in front of you.
"You've got my attention. What do you wish to speak to me about?" He asks
A slight hum leaves your lips as you contemplate the confusion you felt before.
"Why are you so... Cold?"
Scaramouche almost seems amused at your words, choking back a snicker by clearing his throat.
"Well... It is raining-"
"You are much colder than the rain." You chime.
This time, he seems at a loss for words. He takes your hands in his own and brushes his chilled fingers over them.
"Why are you so warm?" He asks, an honest demeanour flickered through his eyes.
You shrug slightly.
"Metabolism? Body heat generates in organs... Like your heart."
He nods knowingly, as if you somehow managed to find the answer to the question you'd asked him with that response alone.
"Sleep well tonight, okay?" Scaramouche patted your shoulder. "I will need to make preparations for travel. Let me know if you need anything."
And just like that, he left the tent as you struggled to think of something else to say to him.
"Oh... Goodnight."
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messiahzzz · 10 months
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gale takes every opportunity to gush about his spouse, and it goes without saying that even his students won't be spared from his rants at the mere mention of them. at first, it’s kind of endearing but eventually, the exasperation is etched into his student's faces. there is this air of mystery surrounding their new professor, which causes them to be more than a little intimidated. he is a (former) chosen of mystra? one of the saviors of baldur’s gate? AND he may or may not have a netherese orb lodged in his chest that can erupt at any given minute if he gets too agitated?! the first time one of his students asks him about his adventures and how they managed to defeat the netherbrain, he replies with his usual enthusiasm.
“ah, you wish to hear about our many escapades? worry not, it is only natural that my presence beguiles curiosity. i suppose there is no harm in indulging you. after all, who would i be if i didn't encourage knowledge in all forms? our world was turned upside down. quite literally on one occasion, mind you. we were thrown into chaos, we survived certain peril and destruction, but nonetheless persevered!” his students let him continue for several minutes, him passionately recounting their adventures. until another one pipes up and asks him if he can tell them more about the other heroes he traveled with and if he would be willing to introduce them sometime. he then gets that certain glint in his eyes (oh no, he’s been enabled).
“i certainly can! you see, my spouse inevitability, if not always voluntarily, assumed the role of the leader of our merry little band of misfits. without their guidance and immutable patience i most certainly wouldn’t stand here in front of you all today. their strength and unwavering tenacity are unmatched! they showed remarkable guile and courage throughout our adventures. shepherding each of us throughout these tumultuous times and guiding us onto a road of redemption, recovery, and healing. they were a beacon for us all. reminding us to take solace in our blossoming bonds during our darkest of times.. their presence and support are nothing short of a blessing. even now i marvel at the sheer good fortune that caused our paths to intertwine. they truly are the light of my life. in fact, during one occasion—“
“professor dekarios, we’ve heard that you are also acquainted with the blade of frontiers. is this true?”
- “indeed i am. although he has discarded that title by now. you see, my spouse—“
it eventually becomes common knowledge at blackstaff academy that the most efficient way to distract him from collecting assignments is to merely ask him about his partner.
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seasidefallenangel · 3 months
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“what was your family like?”
the question causes dazai to freeze in his tracks, in the middle of grabbing a bag of chips from your cabinet. you’d never once asked something like this, anything about his past life at all. he was immensely grateful for the fact you’d let him reveal parts of himself over time at his own pace, leading to the comfortable spot in your current relationship. 
until this moment, that is.
with a nervous laugh, he calls back out to you, “why are you asking, hm? do you plan to offer them a dowry in exchange for my hand in marriage?”
deflecting an undesirable situation was a specialty of his in most cases - those of which generally didn’t involve you. unfortunately for him, you had become rather proficient in the vernacular and signs of dazai-ese, and can easily tell what he’s trying to do. even so, nothing about your tone nor body language indicated anything forceful ; rather, it was similar to as if you had questioned him about dinner plans or that one faulty fire hydrant near your house.
“obviously not, dumbass,” you snorted, scrolling on your phone for a bit before finishing the thought, “i was just curious. neither of us ever talk about it.” those words struck yet another horrible truth in dazai’s mind - that despite how much he desired as such, he did not know every last detail about you, every thought that ran through your head, every movement you would make before your body reacted. he was well aware he had never heard about your family from your own mouth, but the reason as to why hadn’t necessarily crossed his mind until this moment. and well, if he were to ask you the same but refuse to answer the question you originally asked, he’d seem a bit too hypocritical.
he finds his way back into the living room where you lay on the couch. you pay him no mind as he sits across from you, gazing at your figure and the simplicity of what you two have shared. it was almost too natural - the progression of acquaintances to friends to whatever exactly was going on now. the word “boyfriend” had never spilled from your mouth in reference to him, but what else would you call someone that you essentially live and share a bed with every night for months on end? that you get a good morning kiss from when you wake up and give a goodnight kiss to before drifting off? were all the outings you had classified as dates, or just two very close friends hanging out constantly?
dazai disliked not having answers, but he hated the idea of asking you for them even more.
as he watches you relax on the couch, dazai comes to the conclusion that he probably hated you as a whole in some alternate life ; even in this one, had you been unlucky enough to know him 5 years prior. you were so polarizing in the sense that you accepted everything as it came, never tried to fight the reality that had been thrust upon you. whereas dazai had struggled to understand his own humanity, or lack-there-of, you embraced it and never bothered to deny what was truly in front of you. to say he was jealous of you sounded a bit childish in his eyes, but there was certainly something about you he wanted to take and give to himself.
“i’m all ears, my love. tell me about the people who graced me with such an angel as yourself!” he responds in hopes that you’ll give in and let him avoid revealing the painstaking truth once more.
you quirk up an eyebrow with a sardonic smile and shake your head, resting back on the arm of the couch. “i’ll tell you once you tell me, deal?”
… dazai supposes he’ll have to live in ignorance about your family for the time being.
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fan-fantasies · 1 year
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Do You Jest?
A/N: surprise!! I’ve been feeling really down lately so I figured maybe writing might help. This kinda sucks and sounded better in my head but oh well. Enjoy!
Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader
Warnings: Aegon being a shit, salacious language, making out and mild breeding kink if you squint, heavy use of wife and husband
Summary: you’ve known the royal family for most of your life, but never would you have guessed Aemond’s reaction to your own betrothal.
Part Two
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“You’re drooling again, brother,” Aegon chuckled. Aemond shot him a dirty look before turning his attention back to you.
“Don’t you have some handmaid to go fondle?” The prince scoffed.
“Maybe later. I’d much rather join you in ogling our lady.”
“She most certainly is not your lady and I was not ogling!”
Aemond was becoming more annoyed with his older brother by the minute. He couldn’t help it if his eye was drawn to you- your brilliant dress dazzling under candlelight as you stood on the edge of the dance floor.
A few suitors had asked for a dance but you declined each one, feigning an upset stomach preventing you from twirling about.
“You know her betrothal is being announced in a few days,” Aegon whispered. Aemond’s eye widened at his brother’s words.
“To whom is she betrothed?”
“How should I know?” Aegon scoffed. “Some fortunate bastard that will be between her thighs night after night-“
Aemond grabbed Aegon by his collar and pulled him closer.
“Do not speak of her that way ever again,” he growled. Aegon grinned at him before pulling his hand from his shirt.
The elder brother got up from the table and made his way over to you as Aemond watched in panic. He could see Aegon whispering something to you and your eyes flicker over to where he was seated. You nodded and said something back before heading in his direction.
Aemond thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest.
He had known you since you were both children, your family being close acquaintances with his own. You wouldn’t say you were friends- Aemond always being too shy to approach you, but he had watched from afar as you grew into an amazing young woman.
He often found himself having sinful thoughts about you, unable to focus on anything else when you were around.
You were everything he wished for in a woman; kind, intelligent, beautiful, and gentle. You cared for his family as if they were your own and he was eternally grateful for that. Others often found it easy to judge them, but you never did.
He had secretly hoped that his mother might betroth you to him at some point but when Aegon told him your betrothal was to be announced, all hopes of that disappeared.
“My prince, I was told you wished to speak to me?” You asked, appearing in front of him. He could see Aegon snickering behind you.
“No, I didn’t want to speak with you,” he said without thinking, his tone harsher than he intended.
“Oh…I’m sorry for bothering you then,” your eyes dropped to the floor and Aemond felt horrible. He didn’t mean to come across so rude; this is why he kept his distance from you. He would get so nervous that he always said the wrong thing.
“No! I mean, I didn’t request to speak with you but I should like to- speak with you, that is. You are never a bother, lady,” he rushed out.
“It’s quite alright, Prince Aemond. I see now that Aegon was jesting with me. Please, excuse me,” you mumbled before rushing off. He watched as you left the great hall completely and he wished nothing more than to follow you. But first, he needed to do something about Aegon.
Before he could leave the table, his mother called his name.
“Aemond, there is something I wish to speak to you about,” Alicent said softly.
“I’m not in the mood, mother,” he sighed. He looked around for Aegon, but found him nowhere.
“It is quite important.”
“Tomorrow, then. We shall break fast together and we can discuss it,” he said before bowing and excusing himself. His mother sighed as she watched her son stalk from the party.
Aemond wandered the halls until he stopped in his tracks. He saw a figure on the balcony facing away from him but he easily recognized your dress. He wasn’t sure if he should approach you or not, but he wanted to make up for earlier.
“My lady, please excuse this disturbance,” he said, slowly coming up behind you.
You didn’t turn to face him or even acknowledge he was there.
“I would like to apologize for earlier. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“T’is Aegon who has offended me, my prince. For jesting that you wished to speak to me, for getting my hopes up,” you said quietly.
“I shall deal with him once I can find him, I promise you,” Aemond nearly snarled. He hates that Aegon has upset you, but even more so that he somehow contributed to it.
“Please don’t, I do hate it when you two fight,” you sighed.
“As you wish, lady. Just know you needn’t an excuse to come speak to me. It is never a bother to be in your presence.”
“I’m glad you feel that way, my prince,” you bowed slightly and Aemond’s heart sank a little.
“Please, just call me Aemond,” he begged. “Should you not find that too inappropriate. We’ve known each other so long, I hardly think titles are necessary.”
“Titles are everything these days,” you sighed. Aemond had a feeling he knew what you were talking about and his breath caught in his throat.
“Ah, yes. I’ve heard the news. I do wish you every happiness,” he said through gritted teeth. You finally turned to look at him.
“You do?”
“Of course. That is the least you deserve.”
“And what is it that you think I deserve?” You asked. Aemond was hesitant to answer. He didn’t want to reveal his true feeling, both for you and about your betrothal.
“You deserve kindness, loyalty, and honesty. You deserve someone who loves you and only you. Someone handsome and brave,” he trailed off while looking at his hands entwined before him.
“I’ve often found you to be all of those things,” you told him. His eye shot up to your face, only to find you looking at him curiously.
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“Are you, too, jesting with me, my prince?” You asked, becoming irritated.
“I would never, sweet girl. I just don’t know why you’d grace me with such kind words.”
“Should I not be kind to my husband to be? I do not wish for a stale, loveless marriage. So if that is where we are headed please just tell me now,” you pleaded. Aemond found no hint of deceit in your face and he allowed himself for a moment to feel a sliver of hope.
“My lady, who are you betrothed to?”
“You really don’t know?” You asked.
“I need to hear you say it,” he whispered.
“Aemond, we are to be married,” you said, reaching out to touch his hands. You hesitated slightly but before you could pull back he grabbed your hand and pulled you close to him.
“We are to be married?” He asked incredulously.
“Yes, my prince,” you finally smiled at him and he swore he had never been graced with the sight of anything more beautiful.
“Not your prince, your husband,” he said before crashing his lips to yours. You were stunned to say the least, not knowing Aemond harbored such feelings for you.
He held your body flush to his and the rest of the world melted away as he deepened the kiss.
He pulled away but you chased him, reconnecting your lips once again. He chuckled and indulged you once more before breaking the kiss.
“How inappropriate of you, my sweet wife,” he smirked.
“You started it!” You gasped playfully. “You know, I feared that you were disappointed when you heard of our betrothal. When Aegon told me you wished to speak to me I hoped for a moment that maybe you were okay with it. But then you dismissed the idea of speaking to me so easily I knew the idea of marrying me would only repulse you more- but now I’m not so sure.”
“I swear to you I didn’t know. I believe my mother wished to tell me at the banquet but after Aegon’s little joke and how I feared I wounded you, I wouldn’t hear her. Aegon knows how I feel for you and he knows how nervous I am around you which he used to his advantage.”
“You have no need to be nervous around me, it is I who has always been nervous around you. You’re so handsome and intimidating, I feared gaining your affection to be nearly impossible,” you sighed.
“Fear no more, wife. My affections have always been yours and they will always be yours alone.”
“You keep calling me ‘wife’ yet I am only just barely your betrothed,” you chuckled. His gaze darkened and he leaned in to kiss you again.
“The title matters not to me; I am yours and you are mine,” he promised before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.
His hands grasped at your ass beneath your gown and your legs grew weak.
“Aemond…” you whimpered.
“Keep that up and I won’t be able to wait until our wedding night to fuck my seed into you,” he growled in your ear.
“Do not tease me, husband,” you whined.
“That’s what you think teasing is, little wife?” He chuckled. “You have no idea what lies ahead then.”
Part Two
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corroded-hellfire · 9 months
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Like it’s 1999 - Eddie Munson x Reader
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An As You Wish Story
Collaboration with the peanut butter to my jelly @munson-blurbs ✨
Summary: Your first New Year’s Eve as Eddie’s girl comes with meeting all his old friends at the Harrington’s party. It turns out to be great fun, but losing track of time leads you to miss out on something you’ve been looking forward to.
Note: Wishing a Happy New Year to all of you lovelies!
Warnings: older!eddie, alcohol consumption, drunkenness, talk about shitty parents (gee, I wonder who)
Words: 4.3k
[As You Wish masterlist]
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Walking up to the Harrington house shouldn’t be as daunting as it feels right now. You work here three days a week, bringing Ryan and Luke over to babysit the Munson and Harrington clans together. But you’re not coming here to work today; you’re coming for the New Year’s Eve party Steve and Nancy are throwing. 
The house is now filled with friends and family of the Harrington’s, most of whom you haven’t met. And of the ones you have met, it’s only been a handful of times or in passing since you started babysitting for the Munsons. You’ve been lucky enough to become acquainted with Steve and Nancy over the past months and feel honored enough to call them not just your boyfriend’s friends, but your friends now as well. Max and Lucas will be here and the handful of times you’ve met them have been nice. You’ve had entertaining conversations with Max and even got to spend time with their daughter Tiffany a few times. 
Dustin is another of Eddie’s friends who you’ve seen here and there, but never for long periods of time since he lives too far away to visit regularly. He’s bringing his new girlfriend, Jennifer, tonight, who Eddie has said is great, but this is the first time you’ll be meeting her. And she is just the first one on the list of people you’ll be meeting tonight for the first time. 
Nancy’s little brother Mike and his wife El will be here tonight and you’re just hoping that Mike is as easy to talk to as his sister is. A high school friend named Will is bringing his boyfriend named Cody, but you at least are in the same boat with Eddie on this one because he hasn’t met Cody yet either. And then there’s Robin and Vickie, who you’ve been told have been together since high school. Luckily, Eddie has assured you that Robin can do enough talking for the both of you, so not to worry about any awkward conversations—well, ones with awkward silences, anyway. 
Your slightly uncomfortable, yet enviably cute shoes click as you come to a stop in front of the Harrington’s door. Eddie’s hand squeezes yours and the feeling of his larger hand holding yours so safely has some of your anxiety abating. Eddie had known the moment you two had received the invitation that you would be nervous about this. He left the choice up to you if you wanted to attend or not. Being with Eddie meant getting to know those who are important to him, though. A little discomfort is nothing when you think about it like that.
“We can go, sweetheart,” Eddie tells you now that you’re at the literal threshold of the party. “We don’t have to do this.”
You don’t have to do this is what you know he means. 
With as much fake courage as you can muster, you shake your head and give Eddie the best smile you can manage. “I want to.”
And you do. It’s certainly better than the party your friends from school invited you to tonight. Being in a crowded and smoky bar where you can barely hear yourself think is not your idea of fun. It’s really just an excuse to find someone to kiss at midnight, then take home for some fun for the next few hours until someone gets kicked out and is forced to do the walk of shame. Not something you’d ever been interested in, really. Besides, why be there when you can be with Eddie? 
Your boyfriend knocks on the door and a few moments later a grinning Steve opens it, sporting a pair of novelty “2000” eyeglasses, his hazel brown eyes peering out from the second and third zeroes. There’s music coming from the living room, and you can smell the different hors d'oeuvres that must be set out around the party area. Conversations and laughter float down to the door as well and the prospect of joining in on that makes your tummy do a little flip. 
“Hey, Munson! Lady Munson! Come on in.” Steve’s clearly already gotten into the alcohol. 
Eddie ushers you into the house before him and helps you out of your jacket. Steve takes both of your coats and hangs them in the closet near the front door. The host leads you further into the house and to the room where adults are milling about, glasses of different colored liquor in most hands, and smiles on almost every face. Stepping into this room without any of the children feels odd. This is where you usually wait with the younger ones while the big kids finish up their homework. Part of you wishes the kids were there because they’re always good to use as a bit of a buffer if you need one in social situations. 
Tonight, all Munson and Harrington children are having sleepovers at a grandparent’s house. The Harrington girls are staying with Nancy’s parents, while the boys are with Steve’s. Ryan and Luke are spending the night at Wayne’s, as it’s one of his few precious nights off. 
“You don’t mind that your New Year’s Eve plans are watching the boys?” Eddie had asked.
“Plans? Only plan I have is to take advantage of the night off and get as much sleep as I can.”
“Eddie and the lovely lady that is far too good for him have arrived,” Steve announces to the room. Your cheeks heat up at Steve’s words, but Eddie just rolls his eyes and pushes his friend out of his way. 
It feels like every eye in the room lands on you and it’s making your nerves creep back up. Not everyone is looking at you, you try to assure yourself, but the jitters have settled in and have you feeling self-conscious. What if they don’t like me? you think. These people are practically Eddie’s family. I need them to like me. They’re going to think I’m not good enough. That I’m too young. Too stupid. That I’m just some young girl Eddie decided to have a fun fling with after getting divorced—
Max comes over to your side and it shakes you out of your spiraling thoughts. 
“Hey!” The redhead greets. “It’s so nice to see you again.” She pulls you in for a hug that has your anxious thoughts starting to abate. 
“You too!” you say. “How’s Tiffany?” Can't seem to stop talking about the kids, can you?
“She’s great. Talking and walking now, so a complete handful. Oh!” Max catches the attention of a woman about her height with chin length brown hair who stops and smiles at you. “Have you met El?”
“Nice to meet you.” El timidly but kindly extends her hand and you shake it, beginning an evening of greeting new and familiar faces. 
By the end of your first lap of talking with everyone, you’re pretty sure you remember everyone’s name, but not necessarily how they all relate to one another—-except Mike. The way he and Nancy bicker at one another occasionally keeps it fresh in your mind that he’s her little brother. Not to mention, the drunker Steve gets, the more he begs Mike to call him ‘big bro.’
“You know,” Robin says, nudging Eddie’s arm with her own, “I don’t think we’ve all been together for New Year’s Eve since ‘92.”
Eddie thinks for a moment, rubbing a hand over his mouth and chin. “God,” he says with a laugh. “That was before Luke.”
“And Corroded Coffin performed!” Dustin adds, flashing a smile that seems to be missing a few teeth. 
“You ever see your boyfriend being a rockstar?” Lucas asks, raising his eyebrows at you.
That certainly piques your interest. “I have not.” You turn to Eddie with a giddy smile on your face. 
Sheepishness pinkens Eddie’s cheeks. “I wasn’t a rockstar,” he mumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Max almost chokes on her vodka cranberry and lets out a scoff. “Since when are you modest?” she asks with a cocked brow.  
Eddie narrows his eyes at Max and opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt first. “Eddie, shhh, I wanna hear about my rockstar boyfriend!” you tease. “Did you have lots of groupies?”
He groans but drapes his arm over your shoulders as his friends begin to tell you about the band.  
“I don’t even like metal, but they were good,” Robin pipes up from where she’s pouring herself another drink.
“They were weekly regulars at this bar,” Dustin explains. “They would sneak us in because we were too young to get into the bar.”
“Actually,” Max says, turning to Eddie, “so were you.”
Eddie shrugs. “I never questioned it.”
“Anyway,” Dustin continues, practically shaking with excitement, “they could play any metal song you could think of. He learned Master of Puppets in a week, and that song is like twelve minutes long.”
“It’s only eight,” Eddie protests, but his friend ignores him completely. 
“Whatever. The point is, Corroded Coffin was probably the best band this town has ever seen, and it’s all because of Eddie.” He nudges him with an elbow to the ribs. “Hey, do the move!”
Eddie coughs, face fully red. “Henderson, I don’t know what you’re—”
“Yes, you do, because you’re totally blushing right now.” Dustin cackles, turning to you. “It was like this hip thrust thing, but to his guitar—”
“Okay, enough!” Eddie’s face is beet-red, burying his head in his hands. Dustin starts in again, but a glass drops in the kitchen, drawing everyone’s attention. 
“Eddie Munson,” you murmur in his ear, taking advantage of this moment alone, “did you go on stage and hump your poor guitar?” Before he can respond, you tug him by his belt loop. “Can I get a private show later?”
He smirks. “Only for you, baby girl.” 
As it typically goes at parties, people mingle around, always popping in and out of different conversations throughout the evening. You and Max sit on a loveseat off to the side of the room, watching Steve, Eddie, Lucas, and Will take shots. The pair of you shake your heads as you observe the men, watching in amusement as Will tries to pour more shots for everyone, no matter how much they decline. 
Max isn’t quite drunk but is definitely past tipsy.
“How are you feeling hanging around with this ragtag bunch of weirdos?” she asks once the entertainment of watching the men has worn off. 
You chuckle and shake your head. “It’s not as scary as I thought it would be, honestly. And I definitely wouldn’t call you guys weirdos.”
Max pauses, biting her cheek. “It’s really nice to see Eddie with someone who actually appreciates him. Who genuinely loves him, y’know.” She lowers her voice. “I’m not trying to turn this into a bitching session about his ex, but—”
“I am!” More than a few drinks in, Nancy slings one arm over your shoulder and the other around Max’s. The scent of vodka wafts from her mouth. “God, she was the worst! I don’t even know what he saw in her.” She wrinkles her nose. “She wasn’t even that pretty. Like, yeah, maybe a little bit, but not enough to make up for being a total hag!” She cackles like it’s the funniest joke in the world. 
Your mind flashes back to how beautiful Brittany actually is, but Nancy’s true drunk feelings warm your heart.
“Yeah, she’s definitely a piece of work,” you say with a humorless chuckle.
“Oh honey,” Max says, “we all know that’s the understatement of the century. She’s a grade A bitch and any time you want to shit talk her, you’ve got a house full of people here ready to chime in.”
“Really?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. “Everyone here hates her?”
“Well, I’m not sure if Cody or Jennifer ever met her, but everyone else, yeah,” Max says with a shrug.
A warmth blooms in your chest. Even though you know Brittany is horrific, and Eddie knows it as well, it’s different to hear it from an outside source. His friends could see the relationship from another perspective, and it seems they came to the same conclusion: Brittany is a spawn of satan. It’s validating and it also makes everyone’s kindness tonight mean that much more to you. 
“One time,” Nancy slurs as she perches herself on the arm of the loveseat, “the four of them were gonna drive to Lake Michigan for a long weekend. Luke was only like…I dunno, maybe 18 months? Anyways, poor little thing had a cough, so Brittany took him to the doctor. She comes home and tells Eddie that Luke’s got the sniffles and they’re all good to go. Turns out, Luke had goddamn pneumonia, but she didn’t want it to ruin her getaway.”
The outrage that is coursing through your veins has you gripping your glass so tightly that you start to lose feeling in your hand.
“How have none of you killed her?” you ask, making sure to keep your voice even when you really want to scream.
“Cause that moron,” Max says, nodding across the room at Eddie, “hadn’t come to his senses yet. Or at least, hadn’t let us know that he had.”
“Thank God he found you,” Nancy says. “For him and the boys.”
“I thank God I found them,” you say, the alcohol you’ve had making you a little more sentimental than usual. Though it’s something you always feel, it’s not something you’d always say out loud to people that aren’t Eddie. 
Across the house, the guys are having their own little meeting. Steve leans against the counter in an attempt to look mysterious and suave, but his swaying gait gives away his inebriated state. 
“Munson, could you stop staring at your girlfriend for two seconds and help me with this tray?” he asks, fumbling with a platter of cheese cubes and crackers. 
“Huh? What?” Eddie stutters, Steve’s words registering after a beat. Heat creeps up the back of his neck: caught red-handed. 
Will slings his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, pulling him close enough that Eddie can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Aww, you found your Cody!” Will coos. 
Eddie’s nose scrunches in confusion. “I’m not following, Byers.”
Will rolls his eyes as though this is obvious information that Eddie should already know. “You found someone who makes you feel happy and warm and loved. Someone you wanna marry someday.” He waggles his eyebrows. 
“Yeah, okay.” Eddie tries to play it cool; inside, butterflies flutter in his stomach. Marrying you? Sounds like a dream, one that he’s not sure will ever come to fruition. 
Will is undeterred by Eddie’s sudden shyness, doubling down on his statement. “Hey, listen,” he drunkenly slurs, “I don’t need to be into women to know that she,” he points to you, “is a total upgrade from, well,” he lowers his voice, “y’know.”
Dustin swoops in, sensing that the conversation might nosedive from playful banter to pure discomfort. “Okay, let’s get you some water.” He leads Will away, shushing him as they walk. 
Eddie takes a swig of beer, grateful that the interrogation is over, but then Steve gently adds, “Not to focus on the ex or anything, but you really do seem…I dunno, more like yourself lately. In a way that you didn’t with Brittany.”
“Is that a good thing?” He’d like to think so, but his insecurities often cloud his judgment like a dense fog. 
Steve laughs. “Despite my better judgment, yeah. It is.” He claps him on the back. “She’s a keeper, dude. Don’t fuck it up.”
Eddie chuckles and gives a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. “I’ll try not to.”
Both men look up as they hear footsteps approaching them. Eddie’s brow furrows in concern when he sees tears in your eyes as you walk up to him. He reaches out a hand and you place your smaller one in his.
“What’s got you all upset, Sweetheart?”
You’re too tipsy to properly articulate your emotions after talking with Max and Nancy about how lucky the two of you are to have found each other, so you just murmur, “you.”
Steve laughs and scratches the back of his head. “Guess I spoke too soon.”
You let your hand fall from Eddie’s so you can snake your arms around his middle. Letting your eyes fall closed, you rest your head against your boyfriend’s chest.
“I love you so much,” you mumble.
“I love you too, princess,” Eddie says against your hair before pressing a few kisses there.
Steve can’t help but smile at the interaction between the two of you. It’s so nice to see his best friend in a relationship where he’s appreciated and loved for who he is. The way you both look at one another leaves Steve with no doubt about how happy you make each other. Wanting to give the two of you your privacy, Steve quietly slips away. 
Joy buzzes in your stomach, only amplified by the alcohol in your system. You lift your head from Eddie’s chest and lean up to press your lips against his. The kiss is soft and sweet, with no urgency. When the two of you finally part, your boyfriend chuckles and licks over his lips.
“Had vodka, huh?” he asks.
“Do I taste like it?” You giggle. “You taste like beer. And a little like rum.”
“That’s ‘cause I had a shot of rum and have been nursing my beer for an hour,” he says, fingers tracing patterns over the soft fabric of your sweater covering your back. 
“‘N you’re not drunk,” you state.
“I’ve got a pretty high tolerance, baby. Plus, need to be able to drive us home later. Got some precious cargo right here,” he says as he pulls your body up against his. “Are you having fun?”
“Yeah,” you tell him, grinning as you think about the good time you’re having with Eddie’s old friends. “I like your friends. Will’s funny.”
“Will is plastered,” Eddie says with a chuckle. 
Before you get a chance to respond, Robin is tugging on your arm and whining about how you can kiss Eddie anytime. Eddie reluctantly lets you go, playfully rolling his eyes as you’re pulled away. It makes you giggle before taking control of your own feet again and following Robin toward an empty spot on a couch.
Robin asks you about school, how you like it, what classes you’re taking next semester, and what you’re studying. At first, it seems like these are generic questions that someone asks of a college student, which confuses you because you’d thought you and Robin would be past that stage by now. But as she keeps talking, Robin reveals that she’s been thinking about going back to school and wants to know more about what it's like. Once you know that, you’re able to give her more detailed information about what it's like on campus rather than give the stilted, robotic answers you tend to give when asked the basic questions. 
Vickie slips into your conversation at some point, followed by Mike, Dustin, and Jennifer. Your drink keeps getting refilled to where you’re not sure how much you’ve had to drink by the time the conversation peters out. The only thought that can get any traction in your brain is how badly you need to use the bathroom after drinking so much.
You excuse yourself from the group and make your way towards the hallway where the kids’ rooms are. This area of the house is as familiar to you as the back of your hand from working here so much, which is a good thing as you stagger with next to no coordination. Once the bathroom door is shut behind you, it takes all of your concentration to focus on what you have to do. That leaves no brain power to pick up on the cheering that’s coming from out in the living room. 
Out amongst his friends, Eddie’s asking where you are, and Vickie is the one to tell him that she saw you headed towards the bathroom. Eddie thanks her and heads towards the back of the house, eager to get to you as the time until midnight shrinks by the second. Your boyfriend turns the corner and is about to knock on the bathroom door when he sees that it’s wide open. He pokes his head inside and it looks like the room hasn’t been touched the whole evening. Realization hitting him, Eddie groans and rubs a hand over his face.
“God damn it, Harrington. Why is your house so big?”
He makes his way back towards the front of the house, figuring out that you must be using the bathroom in the front hallway, the one you’d be most likely to use when you’re here watching the kids. The buzzing house makes it difficult for Eddie to navigate his way to you as quickly as he wants, knowing how upset you’ll be if you miss your midnight kiss. Eddie swears under his breath as he looks down at his watch and it tells him it’s 12:01. Finally arriving at the right bathroom, he knocks on the door.
It swings inward and you step out, grinning when you see Eddie there.
“Hi!”
Even in his frustration, Eddie can’t help but smile at your excitement at seeing him—alcohol-fueled or not.
“Sweetheart,” he starts, taking your hand and pulling you close to his chest. “It’s after midnight.”
“No, it’s not,” you say with a shake of your head. “Cause at midnight we gotta kiss.”
“We missed it, princess,” he tells you, keeping his voice soft.
It takes your brain longer than normal to process his words, but once it does, a frown pulls at your mouth and your eyes get wide. Eddie shouldn’t think it’s as adorable as he does.
“It’s my fault,” you say. “I-I was in the bathroom. I didn’t know what time it was!”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Eddie says, wrapping both of his arms around you. He rubs his hand up and down your back, soothingly. “It’s not your fault. “I tried to come get you and I was late, too.”
“We missed our first New Year’s Eve kiss.” With a whine, you bury your face in Eddie’s chest as tears begin to fall. Strong arms hold you tightly and the weight of Eddie’s head rests against the top of your own.
“Do you want to go back out to the party?” Eddie asks after a few minutes of just holding you.
Sniffling, you shake your head.
“M’sorry, Eddie.”
“Hey.” Eddie cups your face in his hands and tilts your head up. “You have nothing to be sorry about. You and I are going to have New Year’s kisses together for the rest of our lives. And I plan on kissing you every day for the rest of forever, even after we’re dead.” Eddie feels the tightness in his chest lessen as you let out a small giggle at his joke. “So, one late kiss is nothing, sweetheart.” He leans in and presses his lips gently against yours, trying to convey the love and adoration he has for you as he cradles your face. When you pull back, Eddie raises his eyebrows at you in question—did that help?
Much to Eddie’s relief, you nod and wipe your eyes. They’re still sore and puffy, but that will fade. Plus, that’s easy to blame on alcohol consumption. 
“Do you want to go home?” Eddie asks.
You shake your head.
“We can stay a little longer,” you say.
“We don’t have to.”
“Wanna have more fun with you.”
That has a small smile growing on your boyfriend’s face.
“I like the sound of that.”
The party winds down now that midnight has passed, and you and Eddie stay for a little while longer. As guests start to leave, you find yourself mingling with everyone and sharing last laughs with his old friends. Eventually, you and Eddie bid those who haven’t left yet goodnight and head back to his apartment. 
By the time you arrive home, it’s almost one in the morning. Eddie tosses his keys down on the counter while you shuffle into the kitchen for a glass of water. Sleepily, Eddie follows in behind you but perks up with a smile when he glances at the clock.
“Hey, princess?”
“Hmm?”
“C’mere.”
Body just going through the motions in your tired state, you put the glass down and Eddie tugs you up against his body.
“It’s almost one,” he whispers.
“Okay,” you say, though it sounds more like a question.
“It’s about to be the New Year in the next time zone. So, if we kiss at one, I think that counts as a New Year’s kiss. Don’t you?”
Understanding fights its way through your hazy brain until it clicks. A small smile lights up your face as you nod.
“That sounds like a good plan to me.”
Eddie turns his head to look at the clock on the wall, the second hand racing around towards the nine. Your eyes track the ticking of the thin black line as well, holding your breath as you wait for the hour to strike.
Just as the second hand lands on the twelve, Eddie tilts your chin up and catches your lips with his own. A warm and fuzzy feeling that has nothing to do with your drinking envelops your body as you wrap your arms around his neck. Eddie’s hands rest firmly on your waist, holding onto you as if his life depended on it.
When you part, you rest your foreheads against one another’s. The small, dark apartment shrouds the two of you in shadow, only a sliver of the moon shining in the window giving you enough light to see each other by. The night is quiet around you, no movement breaking the peace as you and Eddie simply gaze into one another’s eyes.
“Happy New Year’s, baby.”
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da-rulah · 5 months
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"oh, and my love, did i mistake you as a sign from god?" from sleep token's the summoning >:33 could i rq cardinal copia?? sfw / nsfw idm just wherever your creativity takes u!! <33
This song gives me all the vibes. And for Cardinal Copia, this is what I got out of it. I'm sorry if it's not your thing but I couldn't think of anything else that fit this lyric better... This got a little kinky😈
NSFW 18+, MDNI! Cardinal Copia x f!reader
TW: dom/sub dynamic (f dom), dominatrix, control, power play, ropes/bondage, cum play, emotions and soft domination.
Copia's neck was starting to hurt, his head bowed down and staring at the stone floors of the chapel beneath his knees. His hands remained behind his back, arms tied from his elbows to his wrists in red shibari ropes.
But he knew he wasn't allowed to look up. Not yet.
He heard your heels on the stone, and naturally his body tensed in welcome anticipation. He'd waited patiently for you to come back to the chapel after stripping him down, tying his arms and instructing him to stay put while you'd gone to slip into something more comfortable. Of course, making him wait was all part of it; to make him uncomfortable, antsy, nervous.
You came to stand in front of him, stepping between his spread knees to make sure he could see the heels you'd put on. He'd be getting more acquainted with them soon...
He was already painfully hard, his mind racing as fast as his heart thinking of all the things you might do to him, that you'd done to him in the past. He could never get enough of you, like a drug he was terminally addicted to. You would be the death of him...
But this was his release. His job was so demanding, so stressful and he had to be the authoritarian he was crafted into as a Cardinal. All of that went out the window during playtime with you... He could let go, let someone else take charge for him and literally beat the tension out of him if that's what he needed. But there was a complication...
He was becoming too obsessed with you. You were the most beautiful woman in the world to him, the perfect mix of cruel dominatrix and soft lover. He kept finding excuses to be around you day to day, just to catch glimpses of you if that was all he could get. Other times, he'd specifically call for your assistance on a task, just to spend time with you. He knew this was purely transactional on both sides and yet, he was falling into a trap...
"You haven't moved, have you?" your voice sounded so assertive, particularly in the stone setting of the chapel - which you'd locked up for tonight so as not to be interrupted. This was a fantasy of his, to be overruled in the one place he was supposed to have the most command. Lucifer would certainly approve.
"No, ma'am," he confirmed, his voice quaking a little.
"Good." You lifted one of your feet, placing it flat onto his thigh and gently applying pressure with your stiletto hell. Copia winced, but his cock twitched between his legs, precum dripping to the stone floor.
And of course, you noticed.
"You're making a mess, Cardinal. Maybe you should clean that up, hm?" It was a rhetorical question, more of an order than a suggestion. And he knew how you worked by now. You stepped backwards and watched with a smirk as he shuffled backwards, dipping his body down without the use of his hands to keep him steady. His face hovered above the stone floor, his tongue darting out to lick at the mess like a cat lapping at a saucer full of milk.
You were very pleased with the Cardinal's progress from your first session together. He'd never been outright defiant, more like inexperienced. Not at sex - far from it - but at letting go, and understanding what you were asking of him without being direct. He'd come leaps and bounds since then.
"Such a good boy," you praised as he finished, still never looking up at you. You hadn't given him permission yet...
You stepped back a few paces, up the first step in front of the pulpit. "Come here."
He walked on his knees towards you, wincing at the pain and stopping short of the step, too awkward to lift his knees but he had a feeling you wanted him beneath you.
Slowly, you raised your heel again, this time lifting his chin with the toe and allowing him to look up at you. His eyes travelled the length of your leg, dreamily observing the stockings you wore for him, held up by suspenders that sat over a stunning black lace bodysuit. He took in every curve, slowly marvelling as saliva pooled in his mouth until finally, he looked up to see your stunning face, beautifully lit in the candlelight and framed by the incredibly intricate stained glass windows behind you.
You were like an oil painting, more beautiful than if Michelangelo himself had painted you. And with the backdrop behind you illustrating his fantasy playing out, it was sending him spiralling.
To him, you were a damn succubus... A demon sent for him and him alone to tempt and defile. He'd allow you anything you wanted from him, follow any command.
"Forgive me for speaking out of turn..." You straightened up at the sound of his voice, glaring down at him. You hadn't given him permission to speak, nor asked him a question that warranted an answer. But you were intrigued...
He'd never spoke out of turn before and frankly, you were curious to see what was so important that he must tell you and suffer the consequences of disobedience.
"You have never look so bewitching... I-I'm all yours, body and soul."
Your eyes widened, taken aback completely. Of all the things you expected, that absolutely was not one of them. You had no smart retort, nothing to say in response at all. Instead, you did something you had never done before, crossing a boundary you set when terms were agreed upon on day one.
You crouched in front of him, meeting his eyes. You could see the fear in them, almost regret as he swallowed his fear and readied himself for the inevitable punishment for speaking without permission. But instead, you moved some of his hair away from his face with gentle touches, then tilted his chin up a little to make it easier to plant your lips to his.
Kissing was a big no-no. You shouldn't have done it, but you felt so drawn to him, compelled to give him a part of you like he just had.
He didn't hesitate to kiss you back, quickly overcoming his shock in favour of savouring something he was sure you would probably never do again. It ignited something within you, a fire raging in your body. You couldn't help escalating it, your kisses turning desperate. Copia wanted nothing more than to hold you close to him, to pull you into him and take you on the chapel floor with an equal balance of power; even if it were just for one night...
But his hands were still tied, and you had a scene to play out. He was sure you'd snap out of it soon and punish him harder than you ever had. Perhaps you'd call this whole thing off, and he'd never get to be with you again. The thought terrified him.
You pulled back from the kiss, your hands wrapped around the back of his neck and forehead pressed to his. You sighed, twirling your fingertips in the locks of hair at the nape of his neck. It was growing out - you liked that.
"Copia..." you breathed, chuckling softly at the absurdity of the situation you found yourself in. Feelings were never supposed to factor into this, but you'd be lying if you tried to tell yourself there wasn't something there. "We should talk," you whispered, finally meeting his eyes.
"Maybe another time, when I'm not kneeling at your feet with my arms tied behind me?" he laughed quietly, shy and unsure of himself.
"Oh, of course..." you moved to untie the ropes behind him, but eh stopped you. "N-no... Please," he begged, "I need this. I-I... don't want you to stop."
You stopped fiddling with the knot, resting your palms on his shoulders and searching his face for any sign that he wasn't sure about this. But there was nothing but pleading; he still wanted this, and so did you. This was as much of a release for you as it was for him. There was plenty of time to talk later.
"Whatever you need," you curled your finger under his chin, lightly tilting it up as a gentle re-introduction into the scene. "Now... do not speak again until you are asked to. Understand?"
He nodded, knowing better than to verbally respond.
The scene in the Chapel continued, but neither of you could deny the little extra softness in your dominance that night. You were more careful with him, less brutal. Still lording over him as he wished, still assertive and clearly in power.
But your harsh persona had turned into something softer, slower in every move you made. Copia couldn't help but be even more in awe of you, watching you take control of him in such a delicate way that felt more fuelled by passion than anything you'd ever done together before.
He was more sure now than ever that you had been moulded in the image of the darkest, most beautiful goddess.
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jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd · 6 months
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Have you done a piece yet for jean being jealous? If not you totally should. 😋
captain jaeger and jealous jean
pairing: jean kirstein x f!reader (x eren sort of, not really)
wc: 1.8k+
tw: alcohol, inebriation, fluff, cursing, eren’s a dickhead, a little heated at the end 🤏🏻
a/n: thank you for this request! i hope you like it! also not proofread
if you’d ask him, jean would define jealousy as the deafening sound of a pulse canceling out every other noise. he’d also say he doesn’t get jealous. was he competitive? sure, but that didn’t mean he was jealous.
athletic rivals with eren, those two were always butting heads about something, anything. jean was easy to rile up and eren was a relentless tease. eren found an extreme amount of joy in raising the other boy’s blood pressure. but no, jean wasn’t jealous of eren. he hated him and that idiotic man-bun of his. the way he’d blink a certain way and some easily fooled girl would slip him her number. the way things came naturally to him. it wasn’t jealous, he’d say, it’s hatred.
y/n wasn’t the jealous type, either. there were girls prettier than her and she knew that. nothing she could do about it, so she didn’t worry. besides, she didn’t want to be the type of person to make every other girl her competition. she felt like a plain jane and she was contempt with it, oddly enough. she attracted just enough attention to feel pretty every now and then.
so when eren jaeger, the gorgeous captain of the baseball team, chose to talk to her at his house party, she felt divine. she felt seen.
*************
typical pop music flooded the house, drowning out any sentences that would normally otherwise be coherent. eren jaeger’s living room was flooded with girls in tight clothes and boys who were just a little too sweaty. it was cramped, almost making you feel claustrophobic.
you’d never been to a party before. at least, not the one’s you’d seen on the television. the type where people were passed out in random spots, where the scent of booze lingered heavily, where there were people making out upstairs in the bedrooms. this party certainly exceeded your expectations, despite it still being early on the night.
you’re not quite sure why you’re here. your friend, mikasa, had invited you earlier on in the day. she said that eren had wanted you to come. and with her being his childhood best friend, you believed her. mikasa and you weren’t exactly besties or anything of the sorts, but she was more than an acquaintance.
there you were, standing in the middle of the most popular boy’s living room, dazed and alone. an overwhelming desire to become a wallflower strikes you. fighting the battle of a lifetime, you swat away your urge to be antisocial and head to the kitchen where the drinks are sure to be plenty.
the kitchen is only slightly less crowded than the previous room. a group of people are huddled around the kitchen island. fortunately, you identify mikasa by her jet black wolf cut.
“hey, mikasa.” you shout to upstage the music.
mikasa spins around, revealing a red solo cup in her right hand. ‘mik’ is written sloppily on it in black sharpie. her eyes, with no less than half a pound of eyeliner on them, skim you up and down. as you start to worry about your outfit choices, she smiles.
“y/n, you came,” she starts, “you look cute.” mikasa compliments as she wraps her arms around you.
there’s no chance for you to respond with an attempt of feigning your belonging because eren is breaking away from his spot at the counter. he stands at a crisp six foot one, towering over both mikasa and you. like everyone else at the party, eren is sporting a red cup, holding it by it’s brim. ‘captain’ is written messily on it, along with the number ‘17.’
a few pieces of his dark hair frame his face. wonderous green eyes that search yours. a chiseled jaw you imagine slicing your finger open on.
oh, just looking at him you could bleed.
“hey. what’re you drinking?” he asks, tilting his head down.
casual. his words are casual. like it isn’t your first time truly holding a conversation with him.
“anything, i don’t really…” you trail off as your eyes flicker between his.
this makes eren smile. he throws up one finger on his left hand, signaling you to allow him a moment to find something he finds suitable for you. he rummages through the fridge and pulls out a red wine cooler.
“this good?” he asks, raising it in the air.
“yes,” you yell back whilst nodding your head.
eren comes back as mikasa gives you a look. she tilts her head up and shakes it at her friend before leaning back onto the counter, rejoining her previous conversation.
he stands before you, extending the hand that holds your drink. just as you go to grab it, he raises it so that you can’t reach it. a smile is painted across his face, revealing bright white teeth.
you blush.
“you can have it,” he cocks his head to the side, “after you do a shot with me and my friends. i’ll even let you use it as a chaser.”
your brain has gone completely fuzzy. eren jaeger invited you to his party, gets a drink just for you, and is now peerpressuing you to indulge in bad decisions.
“okay,” you blink. “i can do that.”
he grins and to your surprise, he throws an arm over your shoulder. “thatta girl,” he says, just low enough for you to hear.
eren weasels you two between sasha and mikasa, the ponytailed girl at your side. she pays no mind to your intrusion and instead offers a smile.
“listen, you delinquents,” eren interrupts them. “we are going to do a shot in honor of my pending status of captain.”
“you are so arrogant, jaeger,” a man scoffs.
across the counter, a messy dirty blonde mullet sits on top of a beautiful, angry face. his forearms rest on the granite as his body leans forward, eyes set directly on the man with his arm around your shoulder.
“oh, jean,” eren coos. “you can’t always get what you want.”
grabbing the malibu bottle by it’s neck, jean laughs. “you haven’t gotten anything yet,” his hazel flickers briefly to yours. “we won’t know until tomorrow.”
the way he talks makes a pit form in your stomach. you’re a smart girl, you know what they’re alluding to. it’s you.
“i guess you’re right. but i’m pretty much guaranteed to score,” eren tightens the bun on the back of his head.
“here,” jean slids you a shot glass. it reeks of coconut.
“you don’t have to take it if you don’t want to,” sasha says. “they’re a bunch of dorks.”
“no, it’s fine,” you shake your head as your fingers wrap around the clear glass. the liquid inside is taunting you.
“eren just wants to get you drunk,” jean says nonchalantly just as the cold glass touches your bottom lip.
“i know,” you respond.
it burns. coconut flavor isn’t strong enough to mask the burning left on your tongue. you can feel it light your esophagus on fire as it travels down, settling in the depths of your stomach.
“i’m going to kill you, kirstein.” eren’s voice raises a few notches as he drops his arms from your shoulder.
jean just laughs. he’s not laughing at eren though, he’s laughing at you.
“what’s so fucking funny?” eren hisses.
“she’s too smart for you,” jean shrugs his shoulders.
“are you too smart for me, (y/n)?” eren asks teasingly, looking down at you.
“i just think that you can’t always get what you want.” you blink your eyes lashes at him a few times before grabbing your bottle out of his hands. he looks dumbfounded as you head towards the living room, leaving him with the sounds of sasha and jean laughing at him.
your feelings are hurt, there’s no denying that. you had felt special and now you know you were just going to be a notch on his belt.
after a few drinks, you find yourself back in the kitchen. this time, there’s no crowd of people in here. just half-filled cups and bottles. faint sounds of terrible karaoke are heard.
you’re standing in front of the faucet, staring out the window, watching people do keg stands. eren’s out there egging them on.
“don’t make me take back what i said.”
“about eren?” you ask, turning around to see jean. he’s drunker, too.
he walks around the island, eventually leaning his back against it as he positions himself in front of you.
“about being too smart. you’re still thinking about him, aren’t you?”
“no,” you sigh. “how did you know he just wanted to fuck me?”
“because that selfish prick can’t let me have anything for myself,” he growls. his grip on his cup tightens. it slightly indents under his pressure. “he just wanted to piss me off. i should fucking kill him.”
“what are you talking about?”
“c’mon,” he sets his cup down. jean pushes himself off the counter and leaves mere inches between the two of you. his forehead is hovering above yours. the warmth of his breath makes the hairs on your neck stand up.
“jean,” you whisper. you’ve never been so still in your life. afraid whatever this is might die, you hold your breath.
“you’re smart, (y/n), too damn smart,” he purrs. “use that brain of yours.”
the vibration in his dialect makes your heart race.
“i don’t understand why you keep calling me that,” your lips part.
jean’s fingers find yours. his brush gently along them, leaving a wake of goosebumps. “you knew what eren wanted but you still chose to get drunk. you got drunk and didn’t sleep with him, just to piss him off. i’m starting to think i might be a part of that plan. you want to make him jealous?”
you swallow the lump in your throat. chest heaving with butterflies, you nod.
“good,” jean replies. the space between your foreheads close. his skin is burning hot, warming your entire body. “because he was making me so fucking jealous,” he draws a finger along your jaw and stops at your chin, “dirty fucker had his hands on you.”
“jean,” it’s the only word you can speak. everything else is forgotten.
“i’ve wanted you for so long. do you know what that’s like?” he waits for you to shake your head before he continues, “maddening. and eren knew all about it.”
“why didn’t you say anything?”
“just wanted it to be perfect,” he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “and now it is, hmm? i get to piss him off by doing this.”
jean’s thumb and pointer finger center your chin as he draws in closer to you. without hesitation, your lips open slightly as his meet yours. they’re softer than you expected. it’s electric. warm hands snake around your waist, pulling you away from the counter. your brain is scrambled, all parts of you lost in jean.
he pulls back for a second, rubbing a thumb along your side. “can’t believe i let jaeger work me up this much,” he kisses your right cheek. “never been this fuckin’ jealous,” he kisses your left cheek.
“i can’t believe you’re jealous…because of me.”
“especially because of you.”
read my jean fic here
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edmcmayonnaise · 25 days
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Months ago, I wrote "biographies" for Edwin and Simon in the style of the Edwardian (Third Edition published in 1915) study on "Sexual Inversion" (medical phrasing that pre-dates the term "homosexuality") in the style of Studies in the Psychology of Sex by Havelock Ellis. This book can be found for free online and is a treasure trove due to the collection of biographies written by queer people.
Maybe against my better judgment, I will share them now for Simon Appreciation Week, as they capture to some extent how I perceive their interpersonal dynamics.
HISTORY E.P. - English, student at public boarding school, aged 16. His father, who comes from an unremarkable middle class lineage, is a physician. His father has been deployed to France since 1914 for wartime service. His mother’s family has a history notable for hysteria in his maternal grandmother, and his mother he describes as a high-strung and nervous woman who herself has been intermittently institutionalized for afflictions of mood. 
He has no siblings, and describes the relationship with his parents as distant. He lived most of his early childhood life in the care of a nanny. At age seven, was sent away to boarding school. 
He has never been attracted to girls or women, though had minimal contact with girls his age, He takes little interest in women or in their society. There is nothing markedly feminine in his general appearance, but he does believe that his general kinesthetic disposition is not viewed by others as manly. Specifically, he says that he is concerned that the animated way in which his hands is too recognizable as a symptom of what he considers to be his congenital condition. 
He is of average height and medium-slim build, but generally normatively developed and healthy. He considers himself to lack skill in athletic pursuits with the exception of fencing, but is an omnivorous reader and excels in academics. 
In his own words:
“I have always been very shy of showing any affectionate tendencies. Most of my acquaintances (and close friends, even) find me curiously cold. For obvious reasons I have been unable to speak as to why this is. I fear being cruelly misunderstood, and I have at times felt as if wrestling in the folds of the morally reprehensible python of inversion.
"I find myself cut off from others, feel myself to be an outcast, and, amongst others my age, am intensely withdrawn. Privately, I am miserable. The desire to love and be loved is hard to drown, especially when treading through a veritable pool of ‘what-ifs’ as I am surrounded by male virality in all aspects of my life at school.
“I am not sure entirely what it is for which I am longing. Certainly, my parents neglected to impart to me any sort of knowledge of the adult modus vivendi. The only thing I do know with confidence is that no bodily satisfaction should be sought at the cost of another person’s distress or degradation, including my own.
“At my school, I have heard rumor, and in fact been the subject of rumor, regarding attachments and gratifications with other boys, which are all untrue. As with any topic that is discussed only behind cupped hands and in whispers, the stories become more and more fantastical as they are shared from schoolmate to schoolmate. Upon my truest promise, I have never yielded to the temptation of any sort of intercrural connection. I have preserved strict chastity. I do not know how long my mind can hold back the instincts of my heart and body, but I am terrified that I will soon lose this seemingly never ending battle.”
Shortly after E.P. submitted his history for publication in this book, it was reported that he and several other boys at his school went missing in what the school is calling an Act of God. Any additional information about what may have happened to this youth and his friends is not forthcoming at this time. 
~
HISTORY S.M. - English, student at a public boarding school, aged 17. Father and mother both living; the latter is of a better social standing than the former. He is much attached to his mother, and she gives him some sympathy and companionship, when he is at home. He is the third of four siblings, all boys, and he suspects that his next elder brother is also inverted.
In early life, S.M. was of delicate constitution and his studies were often interrupted by illness. Though living under mostly happy conditions he was shy and nervous, often depressed. This he attributes to having been on several occasions mishandled by his next elder brother; concedes that his brother is prone to foul and violent moods. However, his brother is well-liked, by his father and other siblings, he says, because of his masculine character. His brother has many friends at school. Though S.M. does report that he does have some influence over some of his classmates, he has few close friends.
Of his inversion, he reports the following:
“There is a boy in my year who has become the absorbing thought of my school days, and who comes to me in my dreams almost nightly. I have absolutely no words to tell you how powerfully his beauty affects me. He is well-formed, lean, shy, and in my dream he sits beside me, allowing our legs to touch and for me to caress his thigh. He looks at me with desire in his eyes, green, but clouded over dark with his want for me to kiss him. And I do want to kiss him– on his wrist, and his palm, and into the gentle, milky curve of his neck, and to leave my lover’s mark on him, to say to anyone who might pursue him that he is mine and mine only. 
“I keep my feelings hidden, however, hardly daring to look at him for fear of being found out. His bed is next to mine, and the rest of the dormitory is boisterous and lewd, and there is a good deal of bullying, which I cannot bear to have directed my way.
“I have tried to tell myself that these dreams are not due to a moral failing of my own, but indeed this boy’s own influence upon me. I love him and I resent him. His seeming indifference towards my existence, as he has never responded well when I have plucked up my courage to speak with him, angers me. I want him to look towards me and love me, too.”
S.M. was involved in the same incident as E.P.,  where he and several other boys went missing from their school. It is reported that their last known whereabouts were their school dormitory rooms.
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catmomjudy · 5 months
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I’ve often wondered if Buck is the actual introvert and Eddie is the extravert in their friendship.
I was trying to find something else over the weekend, and came across some articles on PTSD/trauma and damaged extraverts (who then appear to be introverts because they become afraid of trusting people). Eddie certainly presents as an extravert:
He seems to have a wide acquaintance/friends group (other firefighters, like Julie and now Tommy; the poker group; the basketball group; the dispatch ladies).
His first day at the 118 was classic extravert behavior—he fits in quickly and chats easily with everyone.
When Buck is standoffish on Day 1, Eddie pursues HIM. He wants to get along with everyone and wants to be friendly with all of his coworkers.
He chats easily with others about THEIR deep subjects (his conversation with May in season 5 comes to mind).
Extraverts tend to have a lot of people they know and are friendly with. They’ll still have deeper relationships, of course, but they’ll consider any number of people to be “friends,” and they are approachable and easy to talk to.
That doesn’t mean that they share their own inner thoughts, though—it’s often surface-level. It actually makes selecting and nurturing people/relationships where they can develop enough trust to share that innermost-feeling-stuff more difficult. And it’s that trust issue that made me wonder if Eddie was an extravert who had trouble diving past the surface relationships because of past trauma. He does trust people, but it’s a select few (Buck; Bobby). Otherwise, people only see the surface. An example would be his coworkers not knowing that he had a son and, later, a wife, until it became necessary (worried during the earthquake and asked a direct question) or beyond his control (Shannon showing up at the firehouse).
Buck appears to be an extravert, but I was actually thinking about Myers-Briggs types for the 118 at one point (while driving in my car, of course!!) and realized that Buck isn’t an extravert at all.
Think about HIS first day at the 118–he was shy and hesitant.
Buck being a “player” in season 1 was more about making connections—reveling in being Seen. Plus he’s incredibly awkward when HE tries to approach new people—I’ve always assumed that the women he slept with approached him because Buck-in-pursuit is just embarrassingly awkward. See his first conversation with Taylor for the cringe of it all.
The women he’s dated have, in most cases pursued him—or at least put the first step forward. Abby called him repeatedly. While he and Ali obviously exchanged numbers, she is the one who calls him and asks him out in 2x08. He met Taylor and Natalia on calls, and they were both inviting and forward. The one time HE tried to pursue dating, we got Veronica.
He doesn’t appear to have any close friends (or even people he hangs out with or activities he goes to) outside of the 118 circle.
Buck is outgoing within his friend/family group, but that’s common introverted behavior—they build that group and keep it close (they’ll fight for this—lawsuit, anyone?), and are comfortable being chatty to people in that select group. Outside of that group, and the awkward conversation and stuttering starts. They don’t necessarily have poor social awareness (particularly when observing OTHER people—I.e. people-watching), but they overthink and internalize it, making them self-conscious.
P.S. A true extravert would have gone to hang out at basketball with Eddie even if he sat and cheered (and razzed) on the sidelines and then got to go out for beers afterward with the group.
(My Myers-Briggs/Keirsey geekiness is showing again.)
(Expanded from comments on a reblog, so yes, you may have seen this before. Originally written after 7x04 and later updated, but nothing in his current relationship with Tommy refutes this.)
(Edited 8/10/24 to correct error.)
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akutasoda · 3 months
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Hiii can I request angst hcs with the obey me brothers with a adopted fem demon teen mc who fell in love with an angel
all too familiar damnation
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synopsis - a cruel sense of déjà vu torments them as they watch you fall in love with an angel
includes - lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor - all platonic!
warnings - fem!teen!reader, angst, slight spoilers for the brothers in general?, wc - 1.2k
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lucifer ★↷
↪it ultimately fell down to his word, no matter what brother insisted that they should take you into their family, as to whether you could join the brother's family. but he knew that he wouldn't be able to say no regardless.
↪he also knew that teenagers could be an absolute handful, he had to witness all his brothers go through the same phase, and he didn't exactly trust their attitudes now to set a good impression on you.
↪but he never expected that he'd be faced with such a dilemma. lucifer understood that you would make friends and such but he never anticipated, nor knew how, an angel became one of them. and a potential lover at that.
↪contrary to expected belief, but he didn't actually care that it was an angel that you fell in love with. no, he cared about what that meant for you and the angel - he watch what happened with lillith and her human lover and he doubted that your punishment would be any nicer.
↪lucifer had allowed you to integrate with his brother's and become family, and the last thing he wanted was for you to face the same fate as lillith. he could not lose another sister.
mammon ★↷
↪at first, he was surprised by how excited he was to have a new member of the family - mainly because you probably wouldn't pick on him like the rest of his brothers - but his brother's concerns quickly rubbed of on him.
↪lucifer would say that mammons behaviour wasn't exactly the kind you, as a teen, needed to be influenced by but mammon would always brush it off as lucifer being negative.
↪learning about your angelic crush left him practically distraught. by no means did he want to discourage you from pursuing the angel but he also didn't want you to see the same fate as lillith saw. it was a cruel form of déjà vu.
↪mammon knew he couldn't do anything. he didn't want to discourage you but even if you did, your love for that angel probably would be stronger and so now he could only watch helplessly as you face due punishment.
leviathan ★↷
↪he didn't care initially. well maybe he cared a little bit considering the fact that you would be a new member to the family but he knew himself that it would take ages for him to actually come around to that as a fact.
↪but not getting to know you quicker was a blessing and a curse to him. as learning of your crush meant one thing and one thing only, him and his brothers saw this scene play out before the only difference being that it was now a demon and an angel.
↪because levi wasn't as well acquainted with you than everyone else he felt less distress but at the same time he felt guilty for not feeling the same as his brothers. if anything he only felt helpless to help you in any sense.
satan ★↷
↪he only knew of lillith's existence through stories that were rarely told and so he could barely understand his brother's qualms when they first adopted you. you weren't lillith and they ought to see you as your own person in this family.
↪however he did recognise the cruel irony that came around when he learnt of your angelic lover. if lillith got punished for falling in love with a human, he couldn't even begin to imagine the punishment you and the angel would endure.
↪satan wouldn't endure the same pain as the rest of them following this discovery, but he would feel an immense amount of anger and pity. he didn't exactly know where the anger was pointed towards - maybe just a natural reaction as the avatar of wrath - but the pity was most certainly directed toward you and the angel.
↪he knew that you and the angel probably would try and escape whatever punishment was tried against you two. but ultimately he would lose you, his younger sister, no matter what the outcome was and now his anger was null.
asmodeus ★↷
↪he was quite excited when they first took you in. sure he did share his brother's hesitance but he thought that having a fresh face around the house would be nice.
↪due to his status as the avatar of lust he probably was either the first to find out or be told. admittedly, he was in shock to find out that it was infact an angel that caught your affection but he did find it adorable.
↪he didn't care in the slightest that it probably would never be allowed but he knew that not everyone would share that view. and to that extent he felt rather cruel for encouraging you.
↪he knew that an unfair fate awaited both you and the angel but he knew that regardless of what he did, he couldn't change it. and so he would only encourage you and hope that somehow you two would be spared.
beelzebub ★↷
↪a mixture of emotions consumed beel when you first became part of their family. at first he cpuld only really be happy that you would becime apart of their family but his brother's hesitance affected him more than he wished for it to.
↪beel saw the problem immediately when he learnt of your angel crush but he didn't want to address it with you, he figured you probably knew aswell. if he could, he probably would wish to change this.
↪he didn't do anything when lillith fell in love with that human and now he can't stand to do anything when you fell in love with that angel. you both know that there isn't a single thing that will be changed but he can't bear to watch you go through the same fate as lillith did.
belphegor ★↷
↪he resented you when you first appeared. you weren't lillith and you never would be, therefore he refused to acknowledge that he could have another sister other than her. so he held little respect or regard for you - much to his brother's dismay.
↪he took little interest in your likes, dislikes and practically everything about you, making him the last to find out that you had fallen in love with an angel.
↪when he did find out, his first reaction was to scoff. but he didn't. all of a sudden he realised the big sense of déjà vu that washed over him, and belphegor could only be mad - at himself and at you.
↪at you for the fact that he saw it as a selfish act, you fell in love with that angel and no doubt that your actions would affect him and his brothers who decided to take you in.
↪at himself for not getting to know you - it wasn't your fault and he was merely being stubborn. he refused to ever see you as your own person and now he felt powerless to help like he did with lillith.
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oleanderscorner · 5 months
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Fallen Sapphire Tears (Yandere!Sunday x Reader x Yandere!Aventurine)
My last little post got me thinking…who else would share?
Then I decided I can force people to share for the fun of it! I figured it’d be interesting to see the striking balance between Sunday and Aventurine—both so vastly different characters, and figured out they’d fit one soul quite nicely—so, enjoy!
Spoilers for the new 2.2 quest up ahead and general yandere content trigger warnings! Oh and pregnancy allusions.
Aventurine and Sunday would both enjoy a justice-oriented darling—not just any justice either, but lawful and distinct justice, the kind casts away nuance in favor of the black and white stance and hope.
Aventurine obviously notices you first in this sweet dream and wishes to indulge you in a wager—it only gets him more antsy when you decline on principle, a wager so large means either he’s an addict, or can surely win, right? So what point would there be in playing…
He stands still in that answer—certainly not the first time he’s heard a no or been called an addict but it’s the first he’s been called an addict while saying no. In your eyes, too, it seems like you vaguely care about the former. He laughs it off then.
But continues to think heavily.
When you come back—it only intrigues him more.
Too bad he has to take a quick curtain call.
Sunday met you after, much later once you and Aventurine become close acquaintances almost friends. He notices your looks first—beauty to him, not in how orderly you look per se but…in how your clothes all fit a distinct role and place, how the style of your hair even if not particularly styled balances out this order of roles. Even disheveled homeless men have a certain look to them determined by the roles of their clothes—and you encompass that to him.
It kept his eye on you enough so that when you chose your answers…when you spoke of justice behind your choice in every section. To save a bird is just, to let the law catch a man willing to send his own children whom we don’t even know exist, and to support his dear sister despite him not..it all was quite eye opening to him on the justice his order needed.
He wouldn’t kidnap you immediately only because he would take great care in making your cage—only to then find Aventurine having found you and offering you to leave this place.
They should have killed eachother right then and there—but somehow, a word became a conversation and they came to an agreement.
Of course, they would keep you in the cage together—Aventurine could find and exploit every weakness in the cage crafted to before you had the chance to, and hide information about you from anyone else who would ask. Sunday keeps the cage crafted and gives instruction as needed. Even if it means a bitter false defeat to keep a hidden you.
Aventurine spends most days with you—when he isn’t working you two play games, even if you don’t want to he still tries to play with you, and he often orders take out—can even do a little cooking if you ask. He’s almost moldable—doing as you ask as long as it isn’t escaping related or not keeping an eye on you.
Sunday spends nights with you—sometimes there’s idle chatter with a dinner or late night snack and conversation of the world—but oftentimes it’s silent cuddling as he holds you. Perhaps even Aventurine too if that’s what it took to hold you.
Everything quickly becomes boring and mundane with them—and they know how to keep it that way.
You have a list of small chores while housekeeping does the rest, which is a light dust in some areas and tidying up basic things. It’s so domestic that it almost feels like you’re a rich housewife without a care to actually clean…
Funnily enough, being the last of a kind is gettting to Aventurine and of course Sunday is rather…family-oriented.
Perhaps it is time for another discussion.
AN: Ik it’s short and scattered but I’m thinking of writing like an actual fic for this one so it’s going to stay like this for now.
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chiibi-chaan · 1 year
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Gojo Satoru//hide, doll.
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Content warnings// DARK CONTENT, +18 (minors dni), afab!reader (non uses of specific pronouns), ghostface!Gojo Satoru, yandere!Gojo Satoru, stalking, obsessive behavior, mention of murders, Y/n is threatened, manipulation, pet names (baby, doll, angel, my love), breaking into Y/N’s house, hide and seek (fear play?), knife play, dirty talk, blood kink, injuries, cunnilingus, slight choke kink, dub-con at first, unprotected sex, hidden camera.
Word count// 4.2K
Synopsis//He needed you, to the point of becoming crazy, to the point of killing. He wanted to grave his name into your skin, marking you forever, leaving a trace of his own existence directly into your body. You were his, his pretty doll… and you looked even more beautiful now that he had drawn his own art into your flesh, you were his perfect canvas.
A/n// NOT PROOFREAD (I'll correct it later). I apologize if there are mistakes, I had to publish this like 5 days ago but the whole thing was deleted by Tumblr because the app crashed before I could save my work, and I had exams too- I apologize to the people who were waiting for this, and I'll certainly write this week about the winner of the list some of you voted for (Sugar daddy!Toji is the winner for now, there's only one day left!)
JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST. MASTERLIST.
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It was finally Friday, and after such a long week of work, you needed to rest for at least the whole weekend. You didn’t plan to go outside, mostly because of the last events that occurred in the city where you lived. Indeed, a serial killer sowed discord in the streets, slashing innocent people in the most atrocious way. Most of the victims were acquaintances of yours, not close friends, but people you knew and to whom you would say good morning when you met them. You lived in a small town where everyone knew each other, and the thought that this killer could be one of your friends, was frightening. You couldn’t even walk in the streets without being paranoid, after all, without their mask, the killer could be anyone and anywhere. When you weren’t working, you stayed in your house, making sure that everything was locked and that the house was secured. The only people that you would let in your house were your parents and your best friend, but lately you didn't have the chance de see either of them. At least, your best friend was coming for a sleep over. You needed to relax, and it was the best way to forget everything that was happening. Even though you knew that a murderer was out there, you had this innocent idea that they wouldn't come for your life, because you weren't a bad person, just a normal office worker. How naive were you to believe that. You were the perfect prey, the perfect victim, a weak and ignorant person who wasn't paying enough attention to their surroundings, even if you tried, it wasn't enough, and it was clear that nothing you would do would be enough. Unfortunately, that simple mistake, was going to cost you more than you could give.
Soon, you received a text from your best friend, telling you that something came up and that you'll have to see each other another time. You sighed, closing your eyes and tilting your head back. It seemed like you'll be alone another night in your house. You stood up, quickly making sure that your front door was locked before walking to the bathroom, taking a quick shower. After putting on a comfortable shirt and shorts, you went back to the first floor, heading to the kitchen to make yourself popcorn that you were going to eat while watching a movie. Suddenly, your landline phone started ringing, startling you. You sighed, frowning a little and answering the call.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Y/n."
You raised your eyebrows, frowning even more as you didn’t recognise the deep, low voice talking to you, and yet, it seemed like the man at the other end of the call knew you. You sat on the kitchen’s counter while the popcorn were in the microwave.
"Who is this?"
"Mmh… A very, very bad guy."
"Don’t you have anything else to do? It’s late already, stop wasting my time."
"I have a question for you. What is our favorite scary movie?"
"It's not funny, you think that you're something, acting like that sick murderer just for a little prank?You're pathetic."
"If you hang up, I’ll—"
You didn’t listen anymore, hanging up before he could finish his sentence. That call clearly made you in a bad mood; with everything that was happening, dumb kids still made pranks like this? The only thing that bothered you was the fact that he knew your name, but except that, you didn’t pay anymore attention to it, or at least, until a few seconds later. The landline phone rang again, making you frown and glare at it in silence until it stopped. You thought that the person would get bored and stop, but you were wrong, it kept ringing, again and again, until you had enough and answered again.
"What is wrong with you?! Leave me alone!"
"If you fucking hang up on me or ignore me again, I’ll gut you like a fish."
Your hand almost let go of the phone in shock, your eyes widening and you body becoming stiff on the counter as you heard his low voice threatening you.
"W-What?"
"I’m sorry, Y/N. You made me lose my temper for a second."
"Are you crazy? You’re clearly sick! I don’t even know you and yet you’re here, threatening me and harassing me? Leave me alone if you don’t want me to call the police!"
You said with a loud yet trembling voice, ready to hang up again but stopping in your track when you heard him yell, your body stiffening even more and your blood running cold.
"Do you think I’m joking, Y/n? Oh, no… no, no, no… I can see you, doll… you’re so pretty, sitting on this counter like that… are you waiting for me? You can just open the door and I’ll keep you company…"
You gulped, looking up at the window of the kitchen just in front of you, only seeing darkness outside. But you knew that if you could only see shadows, the man staring at you outside could see you perfectly in the light of the room. You stood up, your legs a little weak and your hand trembling a little as you held the phone to your ear, your voice not about a murmur as you whispered;
"W-What do you want?"
"I want to play a game with you, doll… nothing too difficult."
"Will you let me live if I do…?"
"If you win, I will. It’s a real simple game, doll. You just need to be quick and smart, but you’re such a perfect girl, I’m sure that you can go beyond my expectations."
"What is the game?"
"Hide and seek. I’ll let you some time so that you can hide… and then, I’ll come in and look for you. If I can’t find you, you win… but if I do…"
He simply chuckled, his deep, husky voice sounding like a threat against your ear. What did he mean by that? He was going to come in? In your house? You gulped and looked through the window again.
"And don’t think about calling the police, doll… if you do, I’ll have to kill you. Now, you have five minutes to hide. I won’t cheat, promise."
You could hear the smirk in his voice and a little scream escaped from you mouth as the electricity in the house has suddenly been turned off. You gripped the landline phone tightly and ran upstairs to your bedroom. Your closet had a false wall, which no one knew the existence except your parents and best friend, and you planned to hide there. You were sure that this crazy man wouldn’t be able to find you. You removed the false wall of the closet, holding the wooden plank in your hands and sitting inside the closet, fitting just right into the hole behind your clothes. You put back the false wall in place and waiting, holding the phone to your ear again and listening to the his voice, he was still counting, and you shivered as you heard him finally pronouncing 300. You gulped nervously, trying to control your breathing while he spoke again.
"Ready or not, I'm coming to find you, doll."
You trembled as you heard a loud crash downstairs, he was really in the house, it seemed like he broke a window to come in. You could hear him chuckle softly, as if he found all this funny. For him, it was just a child play, but for you, it was a deadly game, your life was at stake. And unfortunately, fate wasn’t by your side today. You could hear his heavy footsteps as he goes up the stairs, he didn’t even lose time looking for you on the first floor. Maybe he thought that you would instinctively go upstairs as a way to change position in the house, or he just knew from the beginning where you were. And if it was the latter, you were sure that you would not be able to escape, not even if you tried to put up a fight.
"I hope you are still listening, doll… because I have a little surprise for you. I’m sure that you won’t answer me, since you’re supposed to be hiding and stay quiet, but I really miss hearing your voice. I can say, without doubt, that you’re curious about who I am, after all, we live in a small town, where everyone knows each other, but here I am, killing the people I saw all my life. Isn’t it ironical?"
You could hear him chuckle, before he became silent for a few seconds. And as you listened carefully, you heard him stop walking, the sound of his footsteps stopping right in front of your bedroom’s door. You closed your eyes tightly, praying that he wouldn’t find you, that you will win the game, or at least that he will be merciful enough to let you. But you were wrong, so wrong.
"You know, at first, I tried control it. This urge, this consuming thirst of blood… of death. I had this small part of my brain telling me that all of this was so, so wrong, and which made me feel even more guilty. But desire takes over everything, and soon, what held me from killing disappeared, engulfed by that other part of me, more cruel, more evil. So, I started to kill. I killed the people getting in my way. And I’m sure that you’re even more confused. I mean, why you? Why am I telling you this? Why am I doing this? The answer is very simple; it’s all for you, for us."
Your blood ran cold and you froze, your hand trembling as you held the phone tightly Your mind was completely blurred by insane thoughts, and as if the time stopped, as if only him and you existed, you understood. Tears formed in your eyes and a small sob escaped from your mouth as you tried to forget, to not think about what you feared the most. You didn’t want to believe it, to even think about it, but you couldn’t stop yourself, you couldn’t chain that dreadful realisation in the back of your head, like it never existed. And as the door of your room opened, the slow creaking of the wood making your heart beat in your temples and the sound of his steps echoing between the walls and in your ears like a drum of death, you couldn’t deny it anymore. Tears rolled down your cheeks and you looked up slowly, sobbing quietly as the sound of the closet opening was heard, before the false wall hiding you was slowly removed. And as your eyes met the dark chasms that were his eyes, or more precisely the eyes of his mask, you cried even more.
"hello, doll. Did you miss me?"
He whispered softly, chuckling behind his mask and crouching in front of you, his hand slowly playing with a dagger. Now, you could finally guess who it was, you could be sure of it. You could recognise his voice without even trying, this voice you heard all your life, since your childhood and until now. You knew this man, but the realisation that you actually didn’t was even more difficult to swallow.
"W-Why?"
"Because I can, and because I want to."
He simply answered, and before you could react, his fingers were already wrapped around your ankle, pulling you out of your hiding place and of the closet. You gasped, the back of your head and your back hitting the floor. You tried to fight back, but he was much stronger than you, his hand gripping one of your wrist and his other holding the blade of his dagger to your throat. You trembled, slowly calming down as I felt the weapon cutting my skin slightly, blood dribbling down my neck. He pulled back slightly, still holding the dagger to your neck and removing his mask with the other hand, provoking a small sob from your mouth as you saw his face, this face that you knew so well; the face of your best friend.
"S-Satoru... please, stop..."
"I can't stop, Y/n. It's too late. But you'll forgive me, right? You love me, doll... You can jut stay by my side and I'll protect you from all the disgusting men looking at you the wrong way."
"W-What? You killed them just for this? Satoru, you're delusional!"
"You think I'm crazy, right? You think I'm sick? but I'm not, I did this because I love you too, Y/n. It's my job to protect you, because I'm your everything, I'm the only person you can love besides your parents. They love me too, and they can't wish for a better husband for you, I'm the best choice! I'm rich, I'm handsome, strong, smart and funny. I can make you happy, your know that. So don't push me away, my love."
A small gasp escaped from your mouth once again as he pressed the dagger harder against your skin, your breath hitching and your hands holding on his black cloak. You then whimpered, trying to make him listen to you.
"Y-You're hurting me, 'toru..."
"I'm sorry, baby. But it's not by whining that I'll trust you. Unfortunately for you, I'm not an idiot, I may be I love, crazy in love, but I'm still smart enough to see what you are trying to say. "
"P-please, just put the knife away, you're scaring me..."
He sighed and nodded slowly, putting the dagger in a pocket of his cloak, away from your eyes. You closed your eyes in relief, but yet again, you couldn't think about relaxing with an insane murderer in front of you. Satoru ran his fingers through his silver hair, his baby blue eyes looking down at you. He leaned forward again, his hand wrapping around your neck, his thumb trailing along the small cut he made and wiping the blood. His eyes stared back into your eyes and he sucked his thumb with a slight smirk, licking your blood.
"You forgive me, baby? I just got a little excited... I wanted to taste you for so long, I'm almost desperate."
He chuckled, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you against him, lifting you lower body off the floor. he buried his face in your neck, his tongue slowly licking your cut, making you shiver and feeling things that you were ashamed of; your body stiffening and a small gasp coming out of your mouth. You could feel him smile against your skin, his hands running along your thighs and squeezing your hips gently. But even though he did this, you didn't do anything to stop him. You knew it was wrong, so wrong, and yet you still couldn't truly believe it, you couldn't accept that he was a murderer, that the man you've known all your life, the man you trusted and loved, killed people. You couldn't even deny the words he said earlier; he was handsome, smart... He described himself perfectly, and until now, you really thought that he was. Your heart started beating faster, bumping madly against your rib cage. Your hand gripped his hair, pulling his head away from your neck, your eyes hooded with a mix of desire and embarrassment.
"Satoru, it's... it's wrong..."
"It isn't, baby... just relax. let me take care of you..."
"but..."
"shh... trust me, okay? I can make you feel good..."
He kissed you softy, his hands holding your thighs around his waist, his hips slowly grinding against yours. You could feel the bulge of his erection straining against his pants and pressed against your crotch. Satoru smiled, his hands pulled your panties down your legs and he looked down at your exposed cunt, biting his lips softly before trailing his fingers along your folds, feeling your wetness against his fingertips.
"You're so wet, doll... You want me, don't you? Say it for me..."
"I...!"
Your lips parted and you let out a small gasp, his thumb rubbing your clit gently and his middle finger and forefinger slipping into your hole. Your thighs clenched around his waist and you moaned, your eyes almost rolling back when he curled his fingers up, pressing against your g-spot. He hummed softly, his lips trailing along your jawline and your throat while he pumped his fingers in and out of you, his cock pulsing in his pants with each sweet moans coming out of your mouth or even the lewd and wet sounds your cunt let out as he fingered you. His free hand removed your shirt quickly, and he sat back a little, taking in the sight of your breasts and of your whole naked body. He pulled his fingers out of you and lifted you up in his arms, carrying you to the bed while kissing you passionately.
"You’re too good for me, baby… fuck, I know I don’t deserve you, I really do. And it hurts so much to be aware of that. But let me be selfish one more time, Y/n. Let me have you, let me taste you, let me make love to you, just let me love you."
He said softly, his voice not higher than a whisper softly as he rested his forehead against yours, laying you down on the bed and hovering over you, his forearms on each sides of your head keeping him up so that he wouldn’t crush you with his body. He sounded desperate, wounded by having to admit this aloud. He looked vulnerable, almost pitiful, and you couldn’t prevent yourself from feeling touched by his words. You pulled him closer, pushing aside all the things that happened today and all the things you discovered and just hugging him tight, melting in the warmth of his body and nuzzling your face into his neck, accepting how weak you were for him, forgiving and forgetting all the things he did, just because you loved him. He kissed the cut on your throat again and pressed his hips against your bare cunt, grinding against you and grunting softly.
"I wanna hear you, baby… please, I need you… say it for me, yeah? Let me hear your sweet voice, tell me you want me, tell me you want me to make love to you… I’ll make you feel so good, I promise…"
"Please, ‘toru… I want you too…"
"That’s right, baby… you’re so perfect, my sweet angel…"
He whispered and pulled back, quickly pulling his black cloak over his head along with his shirt, exposing his bare chest and chiseled stomach. You whimpered softly at the sight, your hands gently brushing against his skin, stroking delicately the scars on his skin. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes which were already staring right at you. He leaned forward and kissed your forehead softly before removing his pants too, only keeping on his boxers, which looked tight and uncomfortable due to his erection. His hands then held your thighs, pushing them apart as he laid down between them, his face close to your cunt. He looked up at you with hooded eyes, his hot breath caressing your sensitive skin and he pressed a gentle kiss on your inner thigh, his mind already completely clouded by the scent of you, by your mesmerising beauty and simply by you whole. Then, he finally put his mouth where you needed him the most, his eyes half closed as he looked at your every reactions while his tongue lapped at your folds, licking and swallow your wetness while his nose rested against your clit, his tongue pushing into your hole slightly, teasing you. Your heart pulsed faster into your chest as you tried to hold the eye contact, your face becoming hot with embarrassment and desire as you took in the sight of him, of his head buried between your thighs and his mouth eating you out almost desperately while his mesmerising eyes looked straight back at you. You moaned his name, one of your hands gently gripping his hair while the other held on the sheets tightly. He took only mere minutes to make you come undone on his tongue, moaning himself against your core while grinding himself against the mattress, his hands gripping your thighs firmly as he sucked on your pulsing clit, his lips and chin glistening with your slick.
"F-Fuck, you taste so good, baby… could make me cum in my boxers like some virgin high school boy…"
Satoru whined softly, kissing your clit one last time before pulling away, his tongue running along his lips and licking your juices. He quickly pulled down his pants, along with his boxers, and sighed as his member sprung free, no more confined by its contraints. A small gasp escaped from your mouth at the sight of his cock, much thicker than you had imagined, his pinkish tip dribbling with precum. He pumped himself in his fist, groaning softly and being his bottom lip. You stared at him with hooded eyes, gasping softly when he rubbed the head of his cock against your folds, pushing between them ad gliding it along your slit.
"Do you want it, doll? Do you want my cock inside your pretty cunt, mmh?"
You could feel your face radiating with heat, your body even hotter with boiling arousal. You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice as your mouth let out a moan when his tip teased your clit, rubbing against it. You whimpered softly, your body stiffening as you felt him slowly pushing inside of you, his thick cock filling you up to the brim.
"f-fuck, fuck...! I love you, baby... o-oh god, you can't even imagine h-how much I dreamed about having this sweet little pussy around my c-cock..."
Satoru stammered, his dick twitching inside of you while he clenched his teeth. he could barely stay sane at this point, his mind completely foggy with lust and euphoria as he tried to stay still so that you could adjust to his size. You gasped for air, your back slightly arched and your eyes rolling back as you felt his tip kissing your cervix, small whimpers escaping from your mouth. Soon, he started moving, each thrusts of his hips sending your mind into a storm of bliss, your mouth agape and your nails scratching and digging into his back while he pounded into you, losing control over himself.
"you feel so good, baby... so much better than what I could ever imagine..."
He grunted, his face buried in your neck, his teeth digging into your skin hard enough to leave a mark, his breathing becoming ragged and heavy. He moaned as loud as you, his hands gripping your hips, your ass and your thighs desperately, anything that could ground him and keep him wrapped in your warmth.
"I w-want you, fuck...! Y-You're mine, doll. Do you understand? A-All... mine."
He whined into your ear, practically rutting against you like a dog, his voice shaking as he babbled incoherently into your neck. He could already feel himself getting closer to orgasm, one of his hand resting against your lower belly and his thumb rubbing your clit furiously. His trembling voice begged you to come with him, he needed to feel your pussy clenching and convulsing around his cock before thinking about allowing himself his own release. A loud cry of his name echoed in the room as you felt your orgasm overwhelming your nerves and muscles, your eyes rolling back and your back arching, pressing your breasts against his chest. He moaned, one of his hands wrapping around your neck and squeezing your throat enough to make you lightheaded, the bliss and lack of oxygen making everything even more overwhelming. He kept thrusting sloppily into your sensitive pussy, his free hand gripping the knife in the pocket of his cloak while you weren't even able to see. He licked his lips, pressing the tip of the knife against your skin, drawing the initials of his name on your lower belly. You couldn't even feel the pain, too focused on how his cock was ravaging your insides to the point of making you mindless. His cock pulled inside of you at the sight of the two bloody letters graved into your skin, his eyes rolling back as he buried himself deep inside of you, releasing his cum in your womb. His body trembled a little and he held you tight against him, breathing heavily against your neck. After a few seconds, he looked at you, a small smile stretching his lips as he saw you passed out, sleeping peacefully with his cock still deep inside of you. He whispered softly, nuzzling his face into your neck and closing his eyes, resting against your body a few minutes, before standing up, pulling back on his clothes and cleaning you up as best as he could. Then, he kissed you tenderly and covered you with a blanket before glancing at your desk against the wall, smirking as he saw the cute teddy bear he got you as a gift. He walked to it and took it in his hand, staring at one of the eyes of the stuffed animal and winking at it. It seemed like he now had a really good video about you both, which he would certainly watch when he missed you... His sweet and dumb doll.
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rokirokiro · 1 year
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Love Declaration Imp♡ct
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Wanderer. he goes by many names. Kabukimono, Kunikuzushi, Scaramouche the Balladeer, and the list goes on. but people certainly recognized him as your companion. how couldn't them? he's always there, watching over you. no matter the time and place, he'd just groan as he follows you from behind since Nahida told him to be more 'social', and the person had to be you. since you're the most bearable mortal in the whole Akademiya. smh.
♡!
I say he's the man with thousands of apparent emotions, yet he'd bring all that 'pathetic feelings' to his grave. he feels too much! which is also the root of his problems. and one of the people had to be you, for some reason. he'd KILL to erase this 'embarrassing' feelings, yet he can't. and it frustrates him on how much his nonexistent heart beats when you smile at him. on how his empty puppet body feels a tingling sensation of nervousness and warmth (as if he had any) when you invited him to do something. the fact that you recognized him, and be casual with him. it's so rare to see someone who's this positively unfazed with his presence, and this rarity makes him feel uncomfortable.
yes, love is so uncomfortable. he used to yearn for it, stays away from it, and now being chased by it. he's in absolute shambles from the very moment his Mother created him. his love life is disastrous even before he learns world.
Σ>―(OTW)♡→
he'd try his best to avoid love at first. to avoid you. to get rid of this haunting feelings that made his sleepless nights insufferable. like how he did in his Fatui era, when he was corrupted.
but he can't
he realized that he can't stand without you in front of him, guiding him to light. he's too used to see you that it felt so uncomfortable without you with him. the nother feeling without you feels even worse, as if his cold puppet body was impaled with a massive spear and left a huge hole in his chest. absence makes the hearts grow stronger, and the strange feeling is here to confirm.
it feels like the fourth betrayal, and he betrayed himself by pushing you away.
and of course, he's so egoistic over himself too. he'd convince himself that it's just a simple three words muttered to one another, nothing more, nothing less. he acted cool with it, when he's invisibly not.
he's scared
scared of rejection, scared of the aftermath. what if everything goes wrong? what if you were just being friendly to him? not that he have a full experience with having an actual friendship anyway, it's been centuries. other than Nahida, the Traveller and Paimon and the rest that he considered even lower than an acquaintance.... nah
he's hopeless.
but giving up never existed in his dictionary, never giving up in achieving new experiences as Kabukimono, never walked away from the experiments to become a god as Kunikuzushi, and he'd certainly never giving up in his feelings as Wanderer.
and so he spend months to think. yes, months.
he wanted to make the best surprise in the world, to show you how much of an awesome guy he is. to make your jaw dropped and face full of surprise. to make you his in an instant
and at last, he choose to go on the cliche route, choosing a place related heavily to the both of you since he just LOVE symbolism. he does, he told me just now.
◌⑅⃝ ♡⋆♡CONFESSION♡⋆♡ ⑅◌
he'd come to you at the end of your class, which is weird! you were always approaching hin first! and it had you rose your eyebrows slightly at his act
he'd propose that he wants to bring you somewhere nice after-school since 'college is suffocating him and wants to bring you to sniff on fresh air so you better be thankful' in this somewhere. and given the odds, you agreed
he made sure to hold your hand.
he offered his hand like how he offered you his affection.
and so the both of you walk out of the cultural building, every steps engraved in his history, it's all precious. every moment will forever be his favorite memory, or the most loathed one. because he too is imperfect, a 'plain and simple words of rejection' would shatter his artificial body completely.
"here we are" he said. and your eyes would be looking at the beautiful scenery on the hidden parts of Sumeru, the soft wind blowing your uniforms. while you were fascinated by the picture, he'd be mesmerized by you. the scenary is beautiful, but he's too busy looking at you
oh how beautiful you looked, your pupils dilated at the sight of nature, and the wind is being too good today to be an actor for your beautiful blowing hair/hijab. your soft skin, and those haunting smile leaving him sleepless at night...
you're utterly beautiful.
his artificial hand would tremble in your touch, the nervousness strikes at the best times before the climax. he hated himself about it, but he can't effort to pay less attention to you either
he then heard you saying that you remembered this place, of course you would. this place is your first time meeting him, getting each other's eyes interlocked with each other, not knowing what to come next
if he tell his past self that he'd fall on his knees for this person he's holding hands with, his past self would laugh at him.
"of course you would, me too" he said in a soft and low tone "I'll never forget the place that changed me forever"
"forever?"
"forever."
"how so?"
he paused, just taking you in for a moment before he began to open his mouth
"this is where I found my heart, one that I yearned for 500 years"
"oh?"
"and the heart-"
he's then brought your hands to your chest, feeling the heartbeats beneath the layers of flesh and bones
"-is here, right in front of me."
(。’▽’。)♡
he goes by many names ; Kabukimono, Kunikuzushi, Scaramouche the Balladeer and more and more.... .. but for now and forth, he'd forever be known as your lover
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froggyfics · 1 year
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The Deadliest Poisons Are The Sweetest - 3
You remember the little boy and his rabbit.
(09/15/23) Note: If you have read this chapter before this date, please note that I have combined chapters 1 and 2 together. This may seem confusing, but I have decided that as a creative approach, I would like the chapters to be longer. This used to be chapter 4, now it is chapter 3.
Y'all, let me know if you prefer fics with fewer, but longer chapters, or fics with lots, but shorter chapters.
Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome! 
Word Count: 3,309
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He plucks off a red carnation from a bush and places it into your hands. The flower is so beautiful that you cannot help but gawk at it. 
“My mother had these planted many years ago, before my birth,” Damian explains. “Do you know what red carnations symbolize?”
You timidly shake your head, embarrassed at your lack of flower symbolism knowledge. You wonder if all upper-class women already knew the answer to his question. If they were in the garden with the two of you, they would probably shout out the answer before it left Damian’s lips. 
“They symbolize deep love and affection,” he continues. “She planted them for my father.”
You squirm at his explanation, unsure of how to react. Should you feign innocence? It was a well-known, yet rarely spoken about secret within the realm that Prince Damian was born out of wedlock, but no one could fathom speaking about the matter in public. It would certainly be considered treasonous to do so. After all, even implying that the royal family was anything less than perfect was worthy of prison.
Damian laughs heartily at your reaction. “Please, I know what you must be thinking. I am well aware that I do not come from…the most honorable of circumstances.”
You cannot help but laugh in response. “That matters not,” you reply. “It is your character that I care about.”
He hums in response, and silence befalls you two. It is a much more comfortable silence than when you arrived in the capital. This time, you are alone with him instead of being surrounded by a throng of people. 
Well, technically. While your family and his become acquainted with one another indoors, you are walking next to Damian in the gardens, each with your respective chaperone trailing a few yards behind. You turn to see Alice viewing the extraordinary plants around her, some of which she had never seen before. Damian’s chaperone, a high-ranking general in R’as army, trails along indifferently.  
You turn back around and to your surprise, you find Damian observing you intensely. 
“There must be something on my face for you to look upon me like that,” you shyly utter.
Damian broods for a moment before responding. “I look at you in the hopes that you remember me.”
You smile fondly at the memory. “Of course, I remember. How could I forget the little prince and his rabbit?”
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You remember nodding your head at your father, not entirely listening to his words. You were too entranced by your surroundings. Never had you ever seen walls so tall, bricks so sturdy, and rooms so ornate.
“King R’as and I fought alongside each other many years ago,” he explained. “You should forever be grateful towards him. In return for fighting loyally by his side, he granted me earldom.”
He grabbed your shoulder and proceeded to kneel to face you directly. “I must leave you with the servants to attend a meeting with the king. Be good, my child. Do not dishonor our family name.”
“Yes, Father!”
He smiled at you and kissed you on the forehead before handing you off the servant that stood on the side. 
“Let us find you something to eat,” the kind servant said. 
She escorted you to the bustling kitchen and sat you down on a small wooden stool. You were surprised at how many people were employed in the kitchen alone. The amount of kitchen staff here at the castle equated to how many people were employed in your family’s entire home and stables!
You were given a measly bowl of oats, but it still satisfied your rumbling stomach. The servant left you to your own devices to perform her own duties. Surely, there were more important tasks on her mind than to care for a child. However, that meant you were left unsupervised to explore the castle. 
There were an unnecessary number of rooms to explore. You were amazed at the grandeur of it all. The imagination you had as a child ran wild, conjuring up scenarios of how you would live leisurely at a place like this. There would never be a problem that could not be fixed within a snap of your fingers. Chores would never have to cross your mind. You would have everything you could ever desire and more.
One after another, you hurriedly explored each room, forgetting the promise you made to your father. Who cared about family honor when you there was so much to see? 
You were able to easily flit from room to room. Innumerable servants passed you by without a glance, hurriedly completing their tasks. No one cared to look after a whimsical child when they risked corporal punishment for not completing their daily chores. 
A skip, a hop, and a jump later, your heart suddenly clenched. Your feet skidded to a sudden stop and your ears perked up. There were the rumblings of an angry individual coming from just around the corner. 
How could anyone be angry living in a place like this, you naively thought. 
You steadily inched across the hall. The voice increased in volume the closer and closer you approached. 
“ – to be a king!” You overheard a snippet of the conversation as you pressed your ear to the wooden doorframe.
“I have had enough of this sniveling. What would your grandfather say if he saw you like this? He would surely be disappointed in not only you, but in me. I have obviously failed as a mother if you cannot keep it together over something so insignificant.”
You pulled your head away from the doorframe quickly. It did not sound like the sort of conversation that you should have eavesdropped on. You scurried away from the door and hid just in the nick of time around the corner when the door thumped open. Footsteps stomped away from the room until all that could be heard were tiny sniffles, almost undiscernible. 
Forget anger, how could anyone be sad living in a place like this?
Curiosity overtook your body, and you could not stop your feet from approaching the now open door. Peeking inside, you saw the silhouette of a young child on the edge of a bed, with their back towards you.
It was obvious from their trembling body that they were crying, but it was also equally obvious that they were attempting to quiet their own whimpers. Your mind battled itself – should you comfort this person, or should you walk away? 
The memory of your father from earlier that day pierced your mind suddenly. You cringed at the sudden realization that you disobeyed your father, and that he would be displeased with your current behavior. 
You slowly started to back away from the entrance of the room, but you never were one to have life go your way. The soles of your shoes scuffed against the stone floor and created an echo within the hallway.
A gasp was heard from the inside of the room, and you knew you were caught. You winced as you raised your head to meet the eyes of the person whose privacy you intruded on. 
Watery green eyes met your own. His cheeks were wet with his tears, and his nose was blushed red. His mouth trembled in an effort to contain his tears, but one trickled down before he could stop it. He angrily wiped his face with his sleeve before returning to face you.
“What is it that you want?” he sneered, embarrassed that someone else had seen him cry. 
Your mouth opened, but no words could escape. There was so much to be said in that moment, but in your foolishness, you chose silence. You remembered what your siblings would do to comfort you whenever you were scolded by your mother. They would stroke your hair, wipe your tears, rub your back, and whisper declarations of love into your ear, all while you wailed your misfortunes onto them. They listened and your heart had no choice to calm itself after their comforting presence. 
Words could not be conjured in your head, so instead, you inched further into the room. The green-eyed boy watched in irritation when you rounded the bed to sit next to him. He huffed and looked away from you, but remained on the bed. 
You remained mute for what seemed like an eternity before you spoke. “Do you want to talk –” 
“No, I do not,” he sharply interrupted. 
The sharpness of his tone made you tremble. It felt as if you had been scolded by your tutors or perhaps your parents. It shocked you to no end that someone as young as him could hold such authority within his voice.
Silence enveloped the room once again. All that could be heard was his slight sniffles before you huffed in annoyance. Your siblings made this look so easy, but comforting someone was looking to be quite difficult!
He did not wish to speak to you, so how else could you possibly comfort him?
The bed creaked as you stood slowly. You turned to face him and stood closely to him. Your proximity to him broke his attention and he finally gazed upon you once more. This time however, confusion marked his face rather than anger. His knees nearly touched your upper thighs.
Your arms were firmly at your side, but you soon raised them around his shoulders. They dropped behind him, and you pulled him in closer. His head now laid beneath your sternum.
It was certainly an awkward hug. The angle itself was odd, but what made it even odder was the fact that the young boy did not reciprocate. His arms stiffly remained on the bed, unmoving. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion – were you mistaken? Were others not as receptive to hugs as you were?
It grew more embarrassing for each second that passed. You began to feel extremely hot and realized that perhaps, this was a situation that you were simply unable to solve. Your hands were tightly bound to your wrists to secure the hug, but they began to slip as you moved to remove yourself from the boy.
That is, until his arms began to move as well. Slowly but surely, they snaked around your waist, and kept you attached to him. 
You grinned at your achievement. Yes, the hug was possibly the worst one you had ever received, but at least it was reciprocated. 
One hand remained on his back, but the other slowly slid up towards his head. He gulped when your fingers tangle in his hair, stroking his head ever so gently. His sniffles disappeared, and his breathing evened out. His grip around your waist grew tighter and he held you closer. 
He took a deep breath in and spoke much more softly. “My rabbit passed away this morning.”
You tsked in response. “I am terribly sorry. What was the name of your rabbit?”
He paused. “His name was Rabbit.”
You had to stifle the laugh that gurgled in your throat. His head shot upwards, and he frowned at you, but his eyes smiled. 
“A fitting name for – erm – a rabbit,” you responded.
“Yes, well, he was a rabbit, so it made sense.”
You hummed in response. “How did Rabbit pass away?”
He rubbed his head on your belly. “I…am not sure. He was fine this morning. And then by the afternoon, he was…” He trailed off, unable to continue. “You must think I am weak. I am to be king one day and here I am weeping over a rabbit,” he dryly laughed. 
You were silent for a moment. The future king? It did not cross your mind to think of who you were comforting. All that crossed your mind was that you saw someone who was in desperate need of affection. Your hands suddenly became clammy at the realization that you were not comforting a normal child. This was Prince Damian! 
You ripped yourself from his grip abruptly and stepped back. The little boy appeared bewildered at your sudden movements.
“Prince Damian,” you whispered. Your immediately bent your head and knees in respect, holding your dress out to the sides in a clumsy curtsy. “I sincerely apologize – I should not have –” You glanced at the open door in horror.  Despite your good intentions, this interaction was beyond inappropriate between a royal family member and a low-level aristocrat. 
Damian stood up, his hand outreached towards you. “Please, there is no need for –” 
You took a step towards the door. Your father’s stern warning rang once more in your head. “Once again, terribly sorry about Rabbit. Also, I should not have intruded on your Highness’ privacy.”
“No, there was no intrusion!” His arms stretched towards you, but you fluttered away out the open door and down the hallway. You could hear the pattering of footsteps behind you, but continued your fast pace. His footsteps eventually slowed to a stop.
Your mind flashed back to just how intimate the two of you were mere moments ago. Suddenly, it seemed impossible to run away. Your feet turned to bricks. It was wrong, so wrong, but his watery green eyes flashed in your vision, and you just had to properly say goodbye. It was impossible to leave the castle otherwise. 
The little prince had a despondent look on his face as he stared at his shoes glumly. His slumped posture revealed his melancholy. You could not in good conscience leave him so abruptly.  
Damian’s head whipped towards you when you squeaked out your name and your father’s. 
“Perhaps, I will come to the capital again to see you, your Highness. Though, I must return to my father now. He will be very displeased with me if he finds out how I have been misbehaving.”
Damian nodded his head, a small smile etched onto his face. “Yes, perhaps. I look forward to that day, and hope that it comes sooner rather than later.”
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“I keep the memory of that day near and dear to my heart.”
You flush at the thought of Damian remembering you from all those years ago. “Your Highness, I am not sure –”
“Damian,” he interrupts. “Call me Damian. Or Husband. You are to be my wife, so we should remove these formalities between us.”
“D – Damian.” His name rolls off your tongue like butter. “Husband.” You are unsure of what name you like more. “You sound so firm in your decision to marry me. I must know – why? Why me? I have no major titles. No social standing. As your mother pointed out at my arrival, I have no money.” Your hands move rapidly in the air to emphasize your confusion. The carnation Damian gave you dangerously teeters between your thumb and index finger.
Damian calls your name softly and grabs your shoulders, so that you face him. “Why does my desire for you come as a surprise?”
“Well, because of what I just said!” you sputter. “Money, status, titles! All of it!”
“Has it not crossed your mind that I do not need any of what you have mentioned? I am perfectly content with what I have been born with.”
“That still does not explain anything. When the royal messenger delivered us the news that you accepted my proposal, I sincerely thought it was a joke! A cruel joke, but a joke nonetheless.”
“T’is no joke! Out of all the maidens in the realm, I want to marry you. I chose you.”
Your mouth gapes open at his revelation. His disclosure sounded like one of those oral stories that your grandmother would tell you when you were younger. Those stories about the rich prince and the poor girl who fall in love and overcome all struggles. But those were merely fairytales, and this is reality. 
Damian rubs his face with hand in frustration before dropping it back down to his side. His gaze softens at your expression. “Look, I understand this situation was unexpected. Honestly, my decision surprised even myself.” He moves to grab your hands.
You gasp as his hands engulf yours. His fingers intertwine with your own, radiating so much warmth. His display of affection directly causes your heart to skip a beat. The carnation’s stem becomes crushed between your hand and his.
“The day we met…is one of the fondest memories of my childhood. I have never forgotten the kindness you showed me that day.” He rubs the top of your knuckles with his thumbs. “When talks of my marriage began to arise, it was expected that I would marry a princess. I was never opposed to the idea of marriage, but I amopposed to marrying a stranger.”
The green and yellow in his eyes are nearly replaced with all black. His teeth clench and his jaw tightens in anger. “So much of my life is controlled. But I refuse to let my grandfather and mother choose the person I will be spending the rest of my life with. I cannot do it. This is why your presence in the capital was immediately required. I did not wish to be persuaded otherwise.” He takes a deep breath in and loudly exhales. He relaxes his shoulders to allow the stress to leave his body. Genuine kindness emanates from his eyes and into your own. “And that is why when I heard you were interested, I jumped at the opportunity. I have never forgotten you. Why find another bride when I already have a fondness for you?”
“Oh, Damian.” Your heart soars at his proclamation. He stands before you in the body of a man, but you can see through the cracks. He is still the little boy who grieved deeply for his pet rabbit. He is still the little boy who deeply craved affection, but could not show he wanted it. He is still the little boy you ached for long after you left the capital as a child. It was a girlhood crush, but the remnants of that fire remain. Your hand grazes his cheek, and he nuzzles into it. It finds its way from his cheek to his ear, and then to the back of his head. His black hair tangles in your fingers and you find yourself transported back in time to when you first met him. His hair feels the same as it did all those years –
“Ahem!” Alice abruptly proclaims. Your hand quickly untangles from his hair at the sound of her disapproval. Although you are to be wed to him soon, Damian was not yet your husband. Physical affection could not be tolerated until then. 
She attempts to glare at you, but you could see her quivering lips. She does her absolute best to hide her smile until she cannot any longer. Her tense lips turn upwards into a smile, and you chuckle at her reaction. Damian’s guardian, the general, remains indifferent except for the tiniest sparkle in his eyes. 
You take a step backwards to place some distance away from Damian. Although you are no longer touching him, he looks at you so intimately that it feels like you are embracing one another. 
“I suppose we must keep our hands to ourselves,” you quip.
“I suppose so,” he muses. You two begin your walk through the garden again. This time though, there is heat between your bodies despite the distance. 
The red carnation Damian bestowed upon you remains in your hands. You twist and twist and twist the flower around. 
Deep love and affection. The symbolism behind the flower makes you blush. Your mind wanders off into a daydream. Your daydream is almost like a vision. You see yourself planting flowers for Damian within this very garden, just like his mother did for his father. The thought makes your heart bloom.
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