#rem is so chill i love it

[reredaydreams]

A Pierce through the Heart || Jeon Jungkook

When you go to get your nipple pierced, but something else gets pierced too (it’s a metaphor, if you know what I mean).

Paring: tattoo artist (& piercer) jk x reader

Warning: this story contains mature content, 18+

Content: smut, fluff, oral!f receiving, tit sucking, fingering, doggy style, missionary, squirting, love at first sight?, nipple piercing, unprotected sex, light dirty talk, eating out, after care, edging

Wc: 6k

It was past seven in the evening by the time you entered the tattoo shop, the cool ventilation of the air conditioner giving you relief from the hot summer weather, welcoming your way into the shop. The chilled environment sent tiny shivers down your body, a result of wearing a white tank top, accompanied by a flowy, black skirt with a red lace ribbon tied around your waist as a belt, and a tote bag hanging off your shoulder. All clothes that equipped you for the weather outside.

You glanced around the empty space, it was different from the typical tattoo shop. It felt more artistic than edgy as you would expect from a place like this. Pictures of tattoos done in different colours were hung on the walls accompanied by abstract paintings. Most odd of all, little bonsai trees, a lot of them decorated the brown and white interior alongside the casual furniture expected in a tattoo shop.

“Welcome. I’ll be right there with you in a moment,” an oddly familiar, low, melodious voice made its way to your ears. Turning your gaze to the source, you saw a man wearing a tank top, with washed denim jeans standing with his back to you, doing something on a table further into the shop. He was the only other person here.

Your eyebrows arched up, pupils enlarging as the man turned towards you, his face coming into view, a similar expression masking his face once he glanced upon you.

“Y/n,” a low whisper left his mouth, as he made his way to you, a shine displayed in his eyes. “A, hey! We met at the bar last week, I don’t know if you rem—,”

“I remember, Jungkook?” You cut him off, confirming that the memory of the encounter was still in your thoughts, before taking a pause and uttering his name in a way of looking for confirmation that you recalled correctly. He nodded with a small smile on his lips, having been glad to know you still remembered him.

Oh, you knew it was jungkook, a name of a person who had occupied your brain since the moment you met him last week. His voice still lingering in your ears while his pretty face became a beautiful scenery for your closed eyes.

It was a Friday evening, following a long and hectic week at work when you, along with your best friend, had decided to go to a jazz bar to relax and enjoy the day going into the weekend.

The bar was lit with rich and warm lighting, giving it a cosy environment, accompanied by a local band playing some tunes on the small stage. Some people danced, swaying to the music, letting go of the stresses of the week, while others enjoyed the delicious food and drinks offered at the place.

You and Yeri, your best friend, sat on the high stool tables placed along the border of the bar, as you both sipped away at your drinks, talking about all the random topics that came to mind.

“So basically, he allows them to take his brain cells and send them to space, in the trajectory of the coming aliens, so that they would seek out to capture the spaceship, and we will be closer to the aliens, and learn stuff about them,” you sloppily explain the plot of a recent sci-fi series you have been watching.

“But are a single clump of cells really a human, though?” Yeri asked, taking a sip of her drink. “Right, I don’t think so, but the aliens probably have some technology to rebuild the human, and maybe retain some information,” you tried to make the objective of this move clearer.

“That makes me wonder, though, the concept of having a soul, does it really exist? Or, for the fact where? Is it in your body?” You thought out loud to your friend, swirling the glass of wine in your hand, as your mind delved further on the concept. “I’m not sure, that’s a deep question,” Yeri acknowledged.

“Ya. It’s just that, a ‘soul’ just feels celestial, like the concepts of magic, or a god, rather than something so humanly connected to the body,” you completed your thought, receiving another hum in response, followed by a comfortable silenced engulfing the air around you both, as your minds swam in the ocean of your thoughts.

After a few minutes, Yeri’s voice broke you out of your trance, “wanna go dance, to loosen up a bit?” She suggested. “It’s okay, you go ahead, I’ll rest here for a bit,” you assured her with a small smile.

“Okay! I’ll be back in a while,” Yeri conveyed as she quickly gulped down her glass of alcohol and eagerly made her way to where others were enjoying the music.

You shook your head at your friends' actions, as a small laugh left your mouth. You knew exactly why she wanted to go dance; something or perhaps someone had caught her eyes.

You went back to playing with your glass, as your mind was ready to set forth on a journey of thoughts, but as soon as Yeri set out on her way, a melodious voice cut through the air, making its way to your ears.

“I agree with you. It truly does feel something celestial, something so magical,” the person voiced out their thought turning to lock their eyes with yours, confirming that they were, in fact talking to you. “The ‘soul,’ that is.”

Your breath almost hitched, as your eyes laid upon the man in front of you; god, he was gorgeous. The cute plump lips, where a small smile casted upon them, the bread like cheeks, that looked so soft, and those chocolatey brown eyes that shone as they gaze upon you behind those black, clear glasses, were just so captivating.

His soft wavy hair fell just below his jaw, slight hints of an undercut peeking through, while a few strands of hair strayed to his forehead. Your eyes travelled down his body; he was wearing a black leather jacket, opened to give a glimpse at the white compression shirt underneath that highlighted his muscular body even more. The trails of ink that travelled from beneath his jacket, caressing the skin of his slender hands, and the piercings that marked his body, the ones on his ears, and especially the one that traced under his shirt, just added to his already breathtaking beauty.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. It’s just that the topic you were discussing was so intriguing, I couldn’t help but to overhear,” he said, breaking you out of your trance of gawking at him. A worried smile masked his lips but yet a hopefulness sparked in his eyes.

“Oh, it’s all good. I love having conversations on such topics, and you said you found it intriguing, so, why don’t you tell me more of your thoughts on it?” You assured him invitingly, placing your elbow on the counter, leaning your head into the palm, giving him your undivided attention.

“Well…”

You didn’t know when an hour and half passed, as you got lost in the rhythm of his words, and the ocean of thought as you both bounced off of each other’s questions, travelling through topics, from space to philosophy, sharing your own intellects.

His way of words was so enchanting, continuing the conversation in a way that never let your attention deviate away from him. His presence was comfortable, as if talking to a friend you haven’t seen in a long time. His eyes were calm, making a safe space for you to share your opinions. In this small time you spent with him, you knew one thing for sure, you wanted to keep talking to him.

As you finished a passage to a point he had brought up, you laid your arm out on the table, causally in his direction, resting your head on your biceps, letting a soothing silence engulf the space, while the voices and music blurred in the background.

He took a sip of his drink to hydrate his throat that had become dry from all the talking, as he observed your movements from his peripheral vision. Once settling down his glass, he followed suit, resting his head on his arms on the counter.

You saw his hand gradually travelling to your hand, as his fingers intervened with yours, playing with them gently, caressing them in between. All the while his gaze remained deep into your eyes, displaying unsaid emotions clearly.

You closed your eyes, feeling his soft touches on your skin, his warmth feeling as if you were laying under the sun on a breezy summer day, his perfume adding to the image, as the citrusy, yet fresh smell painted a picture of a serene ocean in your mind with every deep breath you took.

As you were lost in the solace of the moment, another thought struck your mind; you didn’t know the name of this beautiful man in front of you.

“I’m sorry, all the while we were talking, I didn’t even bother asking your name,” you spoke out, opening your eyes to meet those that were still looking at you in the same manner as before. He observed the tiny frown tugging at the corner of your lips. “Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook,” he relayed with a tender smile. “And don’t be sorry, I didn’t have the courtesy to ask the name of such a beautiful woman either,” he conveyed with a small pout.

A small laugh escaped your lips, before you informed him of your name. “Y/n,” he repeated with such familiarity, as if the name was made specifically for his mouth. He parted his lips once more to say something, but was interrupted by Yeri’s voice, making you both sit up straight.

“Y/nie,” she cooed, circling her arms around your shoulders, resting her head against your back. She was drunk. You held on to her arms, worried about your friend, you inquired, “are you okay Yeri? Is everything alright?”

“Hmm, yess, yess, I just wanna go home,” she whined. You were used to this, as you were like the mother of your friend group, always taking care of everyone out of your love for them.

You guided her arms to unwrap around you, standing up, holding on to her arm to keep her steady. You turned to look at Jungkook, who was already gazing at you warmly, admiring the way you took care of your friend.

“I’m sorry, I’ll have to head out now,” you spoke out, your eyebrows creasing in slight displeasure as you still wanted to continue to talk to him. “Oh, it’s alright, but before you go, could I get—,” as jungkook was about to complete his sentence, Yeri began to drag you outside, and all you could do was look back at him with an apologetic expression, as he did his best to assure you with his smile, waving you bye.

You couldn’t help but smile at the memories of that night, and how Yeri kept apologising to you for her behaviour that night, and accidentally preventing you from getting his number. She felt so guilty, even trying to find him for you on social media platforms, but it was no use. However, you guaranteed her that it wasn’t her fault, and maybe that connection you felt with Jungkook that night wasn’t meant to be anything more, but who knew, you would run into him again like this.

You looked up to meet his eyes, that were busy admiring your look, travelling down your body, respectfully of course. You observed that he wasn’t wearing any pair of glasses today.

“I’m sorry, for leaving so abruptly that day,” you said, bringing his attention back to your face. “Oh, no no, I totally understand,” he shook his head to make his point, while a small blush crept on his cheeks, having been caught in the act of checking you out.

“So, how can I help you today?” He questioned, clearing his throat. “Oh, right, I had booked an appointment for a piercing,” you explained.

“Yes yes, you are my last appointment for the day. So, what type of piercing are you planning to get today?” He asked, recalling his schedule.

“A nipple piercing,” you said nonchalantly, tilting your head to the side a bit, as you gazed upon him.

His eyebrows slightly raised, pupils enlarging, as he visibly gulped, a slight red hue appeared on cheeks. He looked so cute with the nervous expression that masked his face, causing a mischievous look to play in your eyes.

“You do those, right?” you playfully inquired, acting as if you weren't fully sure, but you had already confirmed with a person on the phone earlier. “We do. Follow me this way,” he guided, slowly picking up on your teasing.

He led you to a back room, in which there was a tattooing chair situated beside a table with some tools, and a couch on the other side. The space still aligned with the overall warm and brown theme of the shop, while there were once again, small bonsai plants decorating the room.

You walked over to a table that stood beside the couch, adorned with the plant on top, observing it closely while you waited for Jungkook to come back from washing his hands.

“My business partner really loves nature, so he decorated the whole studio with these plants,” Jungkook explained, having seen you looking keenly at the plant while walking in. You hummed in response, turning to meet his eyes, which held eye contact with you for a moment, before turning to the equipment on the table.

“Please, take off your upper garments and lay comfortably on this chair,” he instructed, motioning towards the chair next to the table where he was standing, his eyes still directed towards the tools in his hands.

You began lifting up your tank top ever so slowly to tease him, knowing that he could see you from his peripheral vision. Unhooking your bar, you left it on the couch, along with your tank top. Following his instructions you got into a comfortable position on the chair. He made his way to you, taking a seat on the stool beside the tattooing chair.

“So, you want one piercing on the left side?” he questioned, to confirm once again, looking directly into your eyes. You gave him a small nod, his eyes travelling down to your chest, lingering there for a moment, before meeting your eyes once again.

“Hmm, the nipple needs to be erect when it is pierced, usually we use a clamp, which can be a bit painful, however, I have another method to make it erect,” jungkook informed, maintaining eye contact with you, while a small smirk rested on his lips. “You want to try that, y/n?” He asked, with a till of the head.

“Yes,” a low whisper left your lips, followed by his hand tracing down your neck to your left nipple, his index finger tracing circles around the areola. His face came closer to your chest, his breath fanning your upper boob, lips just inches from touching your skin.

His eyes turned up to meet yours, asking for permission with an arch of the eyebrow. With a small grin you indicate your interest, your hand travelling to the back of his neck, gently wrapping around it as he peeked out his tongue, licking from its bottom to top. He kept circling it around the nipple, licking it in between, causing a small whine to leave your mouth due to his teasing.

He finally latched his lips onto the now already hard nipple, sucking on it enticingly, rolling it around in between his teeth. His one hand went to the other one, gently rubbing it with his thumb. It felt good, low moans leaving your mouth. After a while, he pulled away, a string of saliva connected his lips to your boob.

He grabbed a tissue, cleaning the liquid, before grabbing an alcohol wipe to clean the nipple that was now prominent. He marked it as you had asked, grabbing a sterilized needle, and quickly piercing it, and inserting a small rod with a ball on one side through the hole, connecting another one on the other end.

“There you go, all done,” he declared, putting the supplies back on the table before turning back to you. Your eyes were on him, looking at him with intent and lust, indicating that you wanted something more, just like he did. He brought his face just inches away from yours, looking deep into your eyes, while a small, playful smile rested on his lips.

“Y/n, do you want this?” He questioned. You knew what he was insinuating, it made you a little annoyed that he was asking you such a question when he clearly knew the answer.

Your hand makes its way to his torso, feeling his toned abs hiding under his top, before walking your fingers to his chest, just above his heart. You probed around the area, playing with the piercing that was there for a moment, and then continuing your way to his shoulder. You gently wrapped your fingers around his neck, pulling him in closer as if to kiss him, but instead you glided your lips to his ears, leaving him a bit disappointed.

“I do, but do you?” You whisper into his ear. He snaked his arm around your waist, his grip tight as if he was scared that you would back out. “Oh, you don’t know,” his voice came out in a low whisper, a desperation lacing it. “I have wanted this since I first laid my eyes on you,” and as those words left his mouth, his lips were on your jaw, trailing sloppy kisses along the bone, exploring down to your neck and sucking on it passionately.

He guided your legs to wrap around his waist, picking you up and bringing you to the couch that was in the corner of the room, while being careful of your new piercing. Laying your body on the couch, he backed away from your neck, his hand going the waistband of your skirt, gliding them off your body, along with your panties and discarding them on the floor.

He made his way between your legs, taking a moment to admire your body that just looked so divine to his eyes. He wanted a taste so bad, he just couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He pinned your one arm above your head, going in to suck on your nipple that remained unpierced, while his free hand made its way to your clit, rubbing between the pussy lips in an up and down motion. A sound of satisfaction left your mouth, having gotten him where you needed the most.

He continued to make out with your tit in greed, before trailing warm kisses to your stomach, down to your pelvis. He pulled away, spreading your lips to look at your needy pussy. “So pretty, baby,” he commented, admiring it with a lustful gaze. “So wet for me already,” he teased, going in to devour all of you, causing a whine to leave your mouth.

His tongue rubbed circles around your clit, flicking the nerve in between, before his lips wrapped around it, sucking on it in hunger. He iterated on these motions, sending you into a bliss, and ohh, when he inserted his fingers into you, pumping them in and out, it drove you over the edge as your thighs squirmed around his head riding out the orgasm on his mouth.

He pulled away, sitting on his knees, in between your legs, gazing down at your body in adoration, satisfaction masking his face at the observation of the effects he had on you. Your chest raised up and down assisting the flow of your quick breaths, as you catched a breath after your high, while a tiny layer of sweat coated your forehead.

Your eyes remained fixed on him, as he brought his fingers, covered in your cum, to your lips, sticking his fingers in and exploring your mouth, pushing down on your tongue hitting the back of your throat. You gagged at the motion, sucking his fingers obediently not breaking eye contact. He pulled away and licked the rest up, devouring it clean. A hum of content left his mouth at the delicious taste produced by the both of you, all the while his eyes remained locked with yours, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

He brought his hand to the sides of his tank top, pulling it above his head and discarding them on the floor, along with your clothes. Your eyes now came in view of the Calvin Klein underwear that peeked from under his jeans, and that nipple piercing that had been teasing you for the longest, looked even better on him than you imagined. It was so vulgar, in the best way possible. You bit your lower lip, as the view made your insides feel even more warm.

He quickly followed by removing his lower garments, leaving you with the perfect view of his naked body. God damn— it was so hot and big…

“On your knees, babe,” Jungkook commanded, guiding you to your front with a hand on the hip. “I want to take you from the back,” he expressed, the words sounding so lewd as they came out of his mouth, causing a whimper to leave your mouth as his hand gripped your ass. His chest pressed against your back, as he left kisses on the base of your neck, before tracing his hand along your figure to your ass. He placed a playful slap against it, as your whine made its way to his ears, feeling you press your butt to his crotch. “Getting needy, aren’t we?” he teased, as he delivered another slap.

He’s acting as if he just didn’t eat you out like his life depended on it moments ago, you thought. “Why? Aren't you needy for me too?” you questioned, looking back at him with a pout, giving him the doe eyes. “If you don’t want this, then–” you teased him back, pretending to crawl away, but he didn’t let you as he gripped onto your hip, pulling you against him once more, bringing his face next to yours, over the shoulder. “Hey! You’re not going anywhere,” he groaned into your ear.

His fingers pushed your hair aside from your face, tucking them behind your ear and giving him a clear view of your gorgeous face. “Do you feel that?” he questioned, pressing his erect cock against your pussy, rubbing it against your slit, lubricating with your wetness. “Do you feel how hard it is?” he elaborated, placing a kiss on your jaw. “This is all your fault, you make me like this. You will help me with my problem, right babe?” he asked, giving you a curated pair of puppy eyes, as his lips protruded out, forming a small out pout.

You hum in response, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth, feeling the effect that you had on him. He trails a string of kisses along your neck, to your shoulder blade, leaving a soft bit mark against it. He guided his cock to align with your entrance, causing a hiss to leave your mouth at the burn of the stretch. “It's okay, darling. You can take it,” he encouraged, rubbing circles on your back in a soothing motion.

It was a tight fit. You hadn’t had such a stretch before, but it felt good, and full. “Is it better? Should I start moving now?” he asked, once his cock was fully nestled within you. You let out low ‘yes’, as he began to glide inside your walls.

At first the movements were more slow, and passionate, but they soon became more intense, aggressive, and lustfull, as his mind clouded with a hunger for you. But that wasn’t enough, you needed him even deeper than he was, causing you to push back onto his cock as he pounded into you. These movements added to the pleasure for both of you, not shying away from vocalising it, and neither did he, as your voices blended together, echoing through the room.

It became too much to handle, and soon enough you released the built up tension in your stomach. The walls of your pussy contracted around his cock, a low, moan of pleasure leaving his lips, sending him to a bliss, causing him to pull out, as you felt a warm, and moist liquid spray against your lower back.

Your legs give out, as you let your body fall on to the couch, trying to catch your breath after your second orgasm of the day. You felt him lay his body against your back, the sounds of his fastened breaths making their way to your ears. Just the feeling of the pulses of your pussy on his cock that pressed against your clit was so arousing to him that it didn’t take him long to become erect once again.

He pushed his body away from yours, pulling you to your front by your waist, gripping on to your thighs, spreading your legs apart, situating himself between your legs once again. “Round two?” he questioned, with an arch of a brow, while a sly grin played on his lips, causing a small laugh to leave your mouth.

He again aligned himself with your entrance, pushing in more easily, as he began moving into you, this time with a sloppish movement. Your hand drawed up his tattooed arm, gliding your way over his collarbone, and onto his piercing. You rubbed it between your fingers, before giving it a pinch, causing a groan to leave his mouth.

“Sensitive here, aren’t we?” you teased, as he gave you a narrowed look, causing a smirk to appear upon your lips. However, it didn’t remain there for long, as you moaned out in pleasure, as he picked up pace, his movements becoming more intense, fervent, and delightful.

You were getting close, close to your release. The in and out motion of his thrusts, his balls slapping against your skin, his cock grazing against the wet and silky walls of your pussy, his fingers rubbing circles on your clit, all these actions combined to serve you pleasure, sending you into ecstasy. Your body didn’t shy away from vocalising this, as the sound of satisfaction left your mouth ringing through the room, travelling to his ears, making him want to keep on hearing more.

The fingers that were on your clit, now glided up your stomach, the patterning of his cold fingertips sending shivers through your figure, yet your body burned from warmth. A faint, dewy trail of your juices was left behind, fading into the skin as his fingers reached your non-pierced tit. He circled his finger around the nipple, before pinching it and then twisting the bud around, causing a cry due to the arousement leaving your mouth, as your body squirmed to the side, though the grope of his hand on your boob prevented you from moving any further, forcing you to recline back to your original place.

“Relax, Babe,” Jungkook encouraged, rubbing patterns on your stomach, pressing on it gently. “I got you,” he cooed, gazing into your half open, dazy eyes, as he lowered the intensity of his thrusts, earning a whine of disapproval from you. However, he ignored it, and continued to deliver delightfull pressure to your pussy through a slow and passionate gliding motion.

Your hair was scattered on the surface of the couch around your head, while a few strands strayed to your forehead and cheek. Jungkook reached his hand forward and moved the pieces of hair away from your face and tucked them behind your ear. His fingers pursue to trace the side of your face, along your jawline, coming to a stop at the corner of your lips. His fingertip caressed your lips, feeling the soft texture, while the movements of his lower body gradually came to a stop, leaving himself buried inside of you.

A whiny cry left your throat at his tactic for getting what he desired. It was simple: you give him what he wants, and you get what you want. He wanted to kiss you, kiss those juicy lips of yours, feeling the softness against his own, while devouring you whole. You wanted him to please you more, to go harder, to let you have your release, and send you into a bliss. You knew that he wasn't going to fulfil your wish until you let him fulfil his need.

Jungkook rubbed his thumb against your lower lip, while his fingers caressed the sides of your cheek. His thumb came to a rest, as he looked into your eyes with burning intensity, asking permission to carry on with what he was thinking. In a swift motion, you pulled on his arm, bringing his face just inches away from yours. You cupped his face in your hands, fingers stretching to the sides of his neck, while your thumb pressed against his cheeks.

“Jungkook,” you whispered in a seductive tone, meeting his eyes with a craving, your breath fanning his skin, “please, fuck me. Fuck me harder.”

Just as those words left your mouth, Jungkook’s lips were locked with yours in a lustful kiss, tongues tangling together in the moist environment. There was hunger behind the kiss, an aggression to feel one another as close as possible.

Jungkook’s hand travelled to the nape of your neck, grabbing a hold of it and pulling you closer, as if you both weren’t already moulded together. Your arms snaked around his neck, pressing your bodies up to one another, as he began to drive into you once again, but this time with a much greater intensity. His speed continued to increase as you moaned into his mouth. He trailed kissing along your jaw and down your neck, leaving marks he will adore later.

“Mhm, you feel so good,” the words flowed out of your mouth in ecstasy, followed by a sting of moans. “Then cum for me, Darling. Show me how good I am making you feel,” he commanded, moving back to admire your disoriented state, in his eyes you were the most gorgeous being he had ever seen.

Soon enough you came, clenching around his cock, as your insides pulsed against his skin. However, he didn’t stop, he continued to pound your pussy, making loud sounds of pleasure leave your mouth. His eyes travelled down your body, to the place where your bodies connected. A few dribbles of squirt rained out of you due to the overstimulation.

“Fuck, you're so beautiful,” he declared, feeling himself close to his climax. With a few more strokes he pulled out, releasing over your stomach, leaving it a mess in his liquid.

He let his body relax, laying half of his body beside you, while the other half rested against you, as he laid his head on your chests, hugging your body close to him. Your arms wrapped around his shoulder, to feel his warmth around you, while you both regained your breathing. You both remained in this position, feeling a sense of calm in each other's presence, after that exhilarating session.

After a few minutes, Jungkook lifted up his body, his arms straight as he rested his palms on either side of your body, caging you within. He gave you a tender smile, before leaning in to kiss your cheek, whispering a ‘I’ll be right back into your ear. You gave him a lazy smile as he pulled out, getting off the couch, and leaving the room.

A while later, he walked back in, having cleaned himself up of the sticky substances. He made his way to where you were laying, and cleaned you up with a wet towel he had brought, before disposing of it.

“Here, put this on,” he said, while handing you a big white shirt. “Your tank top will rub on your piercing, causing irritation, so wear this to prevent it,” he explained. You already knew this information, that’s why you had carried a loose t-shirt in your bag when making your way here, but you didn’t tell him this and just took the piece of clothing from him.

Jungkook moved to collect his discarded clothes from earlier, as your eyes followed his every movement, while you sat up on the couch. He could feel your stares on him, so he made sure to look extra sexy for you, when putting his clothes back on.

Once finished, he moved back towards you, spreading your thighs apart slightly, before intervening his legs in between them. He gently grabbed the shirt from your hands, which you had done no effort to put on, and helped you wear it himself.

Once the fabric was settled on your body, he placed his arms around your neck, leaning in slightly to look into your eyes with an emotion that you couldn’t quite discern. You both remained in silence, just looking into the depths of each other's eyes, before you decided to speak up.

“So,” you began. “Do you give this special treatment to all your customers?” you teasingly inquired, keenly looking forward to his response.

“No,” he said bluntly, looking you dead in the eye. “It’s only for my future special someone,” he informed, as there was a shine in his eyes as the statement left his mouth.

His words left you confused, and a bit shocked, as you didn’t think he would think of this anything more than a hookup after how fast things progressed today.

“Y/n” he called, breaking you away from thinking further. “I want you. I want something more, and I’m not just saying this to get in bed with you again. I truly mean it. After meeting you at the bar last week, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and the conversation we shared. I want to have more deep talks like that, in the comfort of our own peace,” he explained, expressing his feeling.

You weren’t going to lie, you also held a similar feeling. After that meeting with him, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and the conversation you had with him. He listened to you, sharing his experiences and intellect along the way. You found a calm in his company, at the most odd place. You felt upset all this week at not having gotten his number, and at the possibility of never meeting him again, but seeing him today when you entered the shop gave you hope. A hope to get to know him better, but where today had led to made you think that your connection wasn’t meant to be something more. However, after hearing him now, a smile grew on your face. You hadn’t been the biggest believer of love at first sight before, now you just might be.

“I don’t want to put any pressure on you, I’m just saying that maybe we could try dating, go on a few dates,” he clarified, shyly averting his eyes from you, the same man that just fucked you with such intensity a while ago. Wow, the duality.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his torso. “Lets try it out” you replied, bringing his attention back to you. “I mean, who would be a fool enough to let go of the opportunity to potentially have such a handsome boyfriend,” you teased, looking up at him with a toothy smile, which he returned with his big bunny smile upon hearing your words.

“Then, since it's already late outside, do you want to get dinner together?” He asked.

“Let’s go,” you replied, giving a genuine smile, as you looked forward to possibilities of what lies ahead.

A/n: hey there! Hehe, I hope you enjoyed this! Your thoughts and feedback are always appreciated

[dinogoofymutated]

Hi!! I LOVE your Remy hcs! They were so sweet and in character 😊 I'm on my period and ya girl is suffering and I keep thinking that Remy would be the sweetest AND totally amazing in the fried food department 👀 Any hcs? Totally chill if nah

xx

Gambit/AFAB!reader!- Period HCS YES!!! just yes. absolutlely. I want to taste this man's cooking so bad but I am ridiculously sensitive to spice and would probably die.

I have a similar req for Nightcrawler as well so keep an eye out for that one too ;) Sorry that this is a little short!

TWS: Menstrual cycles. Cramps. Menstrual cravings. Damn I'm hungry rn ngl. Can be read as GN as no pronouns are mentioned.

If cooking Isn't one of Remy's love languages I'm calling bull!!

I mean, who else would go out of their way to cook beignets for breakfast? I mean, sure, he could have made the dough beforehand but seriously that shit takes time.

I 100% believe he would go out of his way to make you anything you were craving on your period. Fried chicken? Done. Beignets? Obviously. Done! Hell, you want stuffed french toast but every time you try to make it you fail miserably? Don't worryyy! He's got you.

Although, that doesn't mean he does it for free!! He asks for payment via smooches and love. He tends to stray away from period sex until he knows you're comfortable with it, and if you are comfortable with it he's always there to offer his assistance if you need an all natural pain killer ;)

Mother nature fucking sucked. It wasn't enough that you had to deal with blood leaking out of you every month, but debilitating cramps on top of that? Straight bullshit!

You've been cocooned under your blankets all morning, curled up into a fetal position as you delt with the intense cramps. You've already taken the last of the painkillers you kept in your bedside table, and unfortunate for you, they were not working. You know you've certainly missed breakfast by now, but you just hurt too much to get up. You're face down on your pillow when there's a quick knock at your door before it opens.

"Good morning, Chère~" Remy sings. You cant really respond to him other than giving him a tired hum. You hear the door shut behind him before the sound of him placing a plate on your bedside table.

" 'Figured you weren't feeling well when you weren't at the table, so I've brought you the Gambit special." He jokes. You feel the bed shift with his weight as his sits next to you, running his hand up and down your back soothingly.

"Thanks Rem." You mumble. If only you could bring yourself to sit up. You can smell the sweet scent of the beignets he had brought you, and it makes your stomach growl loudly. You wince as another wave of pain hits you coincidentally, and you're absolutely sure your body was planning to kill you.

" S' pretty bad, huh?" Remy asks, a comforting hand brushing the hair out of your face. You nod.

"Alright, c'mere." You don't have a chance to refuse as Remy is sitting you up, making space so he can sit against your headboard. You're blearily blinking your eyes open as he drags you into his lap, propping you up against his chest. You send him a groggy, questioning look, but he only responds with catching you in a chaste kiss.

"What? You didn't think I was gonna let my favorite person suffer alone, did you?" He asks, sending you a smile that you can't help but return. Remy feeds you your breakfast like that, keeping you snug and safe between his arms as he gives you plenty of kisses and rubs your lower stomach through each wave of pain. Those painkiller never did kick in, but at least you had someone sweet to distract you for a while.

[diwatopia]

★ kisses as payment ; remus lupin.

info: fluff, remus lupin x gn!reader, less than 1k.

two mugs sit atop the coffee table, completely forgotten as the last bits of steam roll off the lip's edge. the window is up, air fluttering past lace curtains and chilling you along with your tea.

"how's your book, dove?" remus asks, hand gliding along your shoulder as he allows himself to bask in not only your presence, but the soft texture of your (his) band tee that has him keening like a kitten.

"'s good, rem. want me to read to you?" voice soft, barely above a whisper as you run a gentle hand through his coffee hued curls with an absentminded touch. he hums in response, crawling between your legs before lifting the hem of your shirt up slightly to press a small kiss to your hip, a silent agreement as he plops all his weight atop you.

it was almost impressive how easily remus melts into you. his body nestled between your thighs with lanky arms wrapped around your hips to keep you pinned under his weight. now he definitely knows that you can't leave, not like you would ever choose to.

you giggle, reading the next three chapters with an honeyed tone, so full of life that it makes remus feel as if he's genuinely tagging along with the protagonist and their journey when his eyes close.

"love your voice, dovey..." he drawls sleepily.

it doesn't take long for a bookmark to find its way between the pages of your book, the paperback tossed to the side on the coffee table to match with the cups of tea you totally hadn't forgotten about as his voice slurs so sweetly in your ears.

"how about a nap?" you whisper, giggling as a ditzy grin graces his scarred lips. remus lifts up the bottom of your oversized shirt, tossing the fabric over his head before peppering kisses that start from your navel and past your belly button.

"hey!" you snicker, nails gently scratching at his bare back. "where'd you go?" you play along, head tilting back in hysterics as he blows a raspberry to the curve of your waist.

"stop, tha-that tickles!" voice a soft squeak as you choke on your laughter. remus attempts to lift his head and look at you but manages to get stuck between your shirt making a soft guffawing noise that gets intertwined with your own.

his nimble fingers rush to remove the shirt from his head, but not before delivering a fleeting kiss to any random patches of skin.

"you get all cute when you're sleepy," you whisper.

"i do not," he slurs softly, as if offended.

your eyes roll in response, "you never answered my question. you fancy a nap, hun?" you repeat. he takes your hand in his, interlocking your fingers before he plants a peck to your wrist.

"what are you doing?" you sigh out once his lips meets the nook of your elbow, kisses littering up your bicep without a single word to exchange. there's a moment of silence that lays over the two of you like a thick duvet, remus hums with another trail of wet kisses up your shoulder and neck.

"i think you deserve kisses for reading to me..." he smoothly replies before planting a fat kiss to your lips.

you snort out, hands tossed around in his curls. "you think you're so smooth..." you whisper softly.

"i am smooth, dove."

★ diwa's notes. hiii tysm for all the love you've shown my drabbles too <3

© hobietopia 2024.

[moonstruckme]

Hi! I love your writing so much and was wondering if you could write Remus giving super lovey dovey aftercare to the reader? (Like maybe the reader gets really tired or has a bit of muscle pain after the deed and it’s just Rem taking care of her)

Thanks sm for requesting!

cw: definite implied smut, but no real details

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 798 words

It’s almost embarrassing that you’re hurting. You’d been talking big a little while ago, all I can take it and don’t stop, feels so good, and that had felt very (very) true at the time, but now that you’re coming down from your high, the ramifications of going so hard are catching up to you. You wish Remus wouldn’t notice, because it wasn’t long ago that he was telling you how good you were being for him and you’d hate to lose that reputation, but of course Remus misses nothing. 

He’s trailing a finger lazily up and down your side when he stops just shy of your hip. “You’re tense,” he murmurs, prodding carefully at your lower belly. “Are you cramping?”

“It’s not bad,” you try, and he frowns. “Just a little, uh, muscle pain.” 

“Dovey.” He pouts, and it’s almost comical, the mouth that had teased and bitten at you minutes before all pursed in sympathy. He begins rubbing your stomach with his palm tenderly, one hip bone to the other and back again. “Where does it hurt, love?”

“Right…there,” you hiss as he adds a bit of pressure, and Remus stops immediately. “And—and my legs.” 

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry.” He moves his other hand to rest on your thigh, like he can banish your pain with just his touch. “I knew I shouldn’t have been so rough with you.” 

“Worth it.” You grin at him, and you’re rewarded with a low chuckle. 

“Still, I think I’ll work on having a bit more restraint in the future.” Now it’s your turn to pout, and Remus thumbs affectionately at your cheek, following his touch with a kiss. “I’m gonna go get your heating pad, see if that helps. Just relax, yeah?”

You start to shiver after he goes, the slight chill in the room more apparent now that your blood isn’t flowing like it was. You’re considering going under the covers, but when Remus comes back he grabs one of his sweaters, passing it to you wordlessly as he plugs in your heating pad. The knowingness of the gesture warms your heart, and you wonder that you don’t see it glowing softly through the material of Remus’ sweater. He lifts up the hem, adjusting the heating pad over your stomach before letting it fall back in place. You widen your eyes at him pitifully, and Remus smiles as he leans down, obliging you with a sweet, lingering kiss before he sits on the bed and takes your leg in his hands. 

“It’s here, yeah?” he asks, pressing his fingertips to the taut muscles underneath your thigh. 

“Mhm.” 

“Alright, love, just straighten your leg out for me.” 

“Rem.” 

“Hm?”

You flush. “Can you not talk like that, please? I mean, right after?”

Remus’ smile is sheepish, but you don’t think you imagine the glint of smugness in his amber eyes. “Sorry, darling.”

You extend your leg on the bed, and Remus begins to knead at it, testing the stiffness of your muscles and then working it out with long, skilled fingers still sticky with sex. You make a sound in the back of your throat when he pushes at a particularly tight area, and Remus coos, dipping his head to drop a light, conciliatory kiss to the top of your thigh. 

“My poor, lovely thing,” he murmurs, resuming his ministrations even more gently than before. “Didn’t mean to put so much strain on you.” 

“Remus, please, I asked you to,” you sigh.

“Shh, darling. I’m talking to your leg.” 

You make a sound of startled amusement, but Remus keeps his composure, his expression grave as he sets down your thigh and moves to your other side, starting on the next. 

“It gets a kiss, but not me?” you ask, suffusing your tone with a good helping of neediness. 

“You’ve already had a kiss,” he reminds you, but doesn’t hold out more than a second after you pout, leaning over and taking your face in his hand. He squeezes your cheeks together, keeping your lips pushed out for him as he presses a kiss there, to your cheek, to your forehead. “My poor. Lovely. Girl,” he says between each one, dropping once more to your lips for good measure. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“Yes.” You smile, not caring that it’s all mushed up in his hand. “But only if you mean it.” 

He rolls his eyes, feigning benevolence, but he can no longer suppress the lopsided curve of his lips. “I mean it,” he sighs. “Do you think I’d be offering you free reign of my chocolate stores if I didn’t mean it?”

You brighten. “Really?’

“Just for tonight,” he says sternly, but it’s all for show. He’ll give you anything you want, whenever it pleases you.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Wintery

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!vigilante!reader

Summary: Gotham winters are brutal, but your best friend Jason Todd and work friend Red Hood know how to combat the cold. Unfortunately, you're falling in love with both of them.

Warnings: reader and Jason don't know the other is a vigilante, fluff, brotherly teasing, kissing, more fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: I have no idea where this idea came from but it wouldn't leave me alone, so I had to write it. I hope it's okay and feel free to let me know what you think!🤍

Masterlist | DC/Jason Todd Masterlist | Request Info

Picture from Pinterest

Gotham winters are cold, windy, and relentless. There are few places to find refuge from the harsh bite of the chilling wind and fewer remedies to the wind-burned skin and seemingly permanent chapped lips.

Jason Todd, however, is a Gotham boy, born and raised, so he knows the importance of staying moisturized and protected in the winter. So, it's no surprise that he keeps lip balm in his pocket all winter.

No, it isn’t intimidating to see Red Hood putting Chapstick on, but having cracked lips is far more frightening. He finds quiet alleys, tipping his helmet up to combat dry lips before returning to his vigilante duties. Nightwing has only caught him once, and Jason is intent on never experiencing that level of brotherly torture (teasing) again.

✯✯✯✯✯

Since joining the small group of vigilantes, Red Hood has captured and kept your attention. Never saying more than a few words to you, he always seems nearby and eager to help you out of trouble, but you can’t get past that point.

Nightwing and Robin occasionally tell you their ideas to get him to open up to you, convinced there’s something between you, but you brush it off and admire the man in red from a distance.

The night wind is blowing hard enough you’re uncomfortable standing on such a high roof. You tuck yourself behind anything stationary, including Red Hood. 

Under the hood, Jason smiles to himself. He knows why you’re standing close to him, your concern for the wind mixing with an irrational idea that he will allow anything to happen to you. But, if you want to use him to block the wind from your pretty face, he’s happy to stay perfectly still. However, his gaze keeps dropping to your lips.

Jason watches you; he has been since you first stumbled upon them in a less than satisfactory suit. You were bleeding from a run-in with several muggers but smiling through your pain because you managed to make someone feel safe in Gotham; a rare feat unless you’re Batman. Instantly drawn to you, Red Hood has let himself get close enough to consider you a friend but not close enough to talk to you or worry incessantly about where you are through the day.

You say something, and Jason shakes his head to escape his memories of you, focusing on you and your dry-lipped smile. The winds are blowing up the building and into your face even as he blocks the worst of it, and your rosy cheeks amplify Jason’s growing concern. He wants to offer his jacket to you, even his chapstick – an unwelcome idea of kissing you to share it enters his mind, but he shoves it away. Or tries to; the imagined feeling of your lips on his is hard to shake.

After your question goes unanswered the second time, you wonder if Red Hood fell asleep under the helmet. He jerks sideways when you slide your hand into his pocket. His grip falls away from the holster on his thigh when he realizes it’s just you. (Though he’d never think 'just you' about anything.) You pull your hand out of the worn leather jacket, a small white tube in your grasp. Keeping your eyes on the small eye slits of the mask, you uncap the balm and put it directly on your lips.

“Thanks,” you say, smiling as you place it back in his pocket before turning away.

Anyone else, and he’d throw it away, unwilling to share such a personal item, but since he just thought about sharing it in a much different way, he doesn’t mind the idea of you doing it again. He’ll have to remember which pocket he put it in and leave it there for you, he decides.

✯✯✯✯✯

“It’s freezing,” you groan, rubbing your arms as you walk inside the warm apartment. “Why can’t we move to Metropolis?”

Jason laughs at you, his best friend. Since he developed what Dick refuses to call anything but “a crush” on his vigilante partner, he’s wondered what this thing with you is. You are his friend, of course, but there is something more there. Jason has never been good with feelings, and he’s in a strange spot between two women who affect him, similar yet completely different in how he responds.

“Because we can’t afford it,” Jason hums, welcoming you onto the couch beside him.

You slide your cold feet under his sweatpants-clad legs, sighing when he lays his arm over your shoulders.

“We who, Mr. Trust Fund Wayne?” you tease, leaning your head against his upper arm. “Thanks for inviting me over, though, even if I did get frostbite on the way.”

Jason chuckles, stopping short when he remembers something someone else said after fighting Mr. Freeze during a riot at Arkham. Shaking his head, he determines that he has a type.

“I’m stealing this,” you interrupt his reading, pulling a hoodie from the back of his couch.

“Be my guest,” he murmurs, watching you pull it over your head. You feel warmer beside him after a few minutes, and when you dig a small tub of lip balm out of your pocket, Jason wonders if he should move to Metropolis.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Where did it go?” Jason says to himself, barely audible through the voice modifier of the mask.

“Whatcha looking for?” you ask, dropping to the fire escape beside Red Hood. He doesn’t answer, but when you realize all his attention is focused on one pocket, you know. “Really? I need it again, too,” you lament.

Red Hood sighs, turning toward you. Your lips still look fine, with no sign of chapping in sight. Deciding he needs it more than you do, Jason seizes the opportunity.

Pushing his helmet up, he grabs your face between his warm, gloved hands. Pulling you against him, Jason presses his lips to yours, moving with you as the moisturizing gloss spreads across his lips.

“Better?” he asks, smirking before his face is hidden behind his helmet again.

Your face is still in his hands as you nod. “Nightwing took it,” you whisper.

Jason rolls his eyes and leans forward, whispering, “Who needs it when I have you?”

“You do,” you reply, dumbfounded and breathless from the kiss you’ve admittedly been daydreaming about. “I got mine from you.”

Red Hood laughs, and it warms you from the inside out. You think for a moment you’ve heard that laugh before, but then the idea disappears.

✯✯✯✯✯

The next day, you beat Jason back to his apartment after leaving the manor. Letting yourself in, you walk to his bookshelf to see if he’s gotten any new books. A leather jacket is lying on the floor beside the shelf, and when you pick it up, something falls out of the pocket.

“Hey,” Jason greets, closing the door behind him.

Turning, you hold the chapstick up, looking at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

“Yeah?”

He comes to your side, his brows pinched. 

“Are you-“

You drop everything in your hands before grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him down to you. As you kiss him, everything clicks into place.

Falling in love with Jason and Red Hood simultaneously wasn’t some cruel trick of fate or a mistake… you’d been with the same guy all along.

Pulling back, Jason takes a moment before opening his eyes. He blinks at you several times, trying to speak and failing.

“Really?” you ask, tilting your head. “I see that made a much bigger impact on me than it did on you.”

Jason still can’t answer, his mind going over each similarity that he should have caught on to, each mirrored movement or similar response. Your kiss, though… your kiss is unmistakable. He believed his lies about the touches and the words, but nothing can compete with your affection.

“Thank you,” Jason whispers, pulling you close again.

“For what?” you ask, brushing your fingers through the white streak in his hair. “It took me way too long to realize.”

“For everything,” he answers before kissing you again.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your first patrol after learning not just Red Hood but everyone’s true identities is interesting. Bringing your own protection against the current blizzard, you're grateful for the foresight after you get separated from Jason.

Waiting near Arkham and shivering in the cold, you don’t hear the crunch of boots on snow until Red Hood grabs your waist and spins you around. Without his helmet, only a domino mask to protect his identity (pointless in the dark storm), he doesn’t wait before pressing his lips to yours, eager to try a new flavor and get more of you. After waiting so long and being tortured by his tragic decision to love two women at once, Jason deserves to show you how much he cares for you twice as often as he wishes. And if you start buying crazy lip balm flavors to mess with him, he’ll love you even more for it.

[authorsofghosts]

You're Not Him | Horseman!Gambit x Reader | Pt. 1

Author's Note: I do not enjoy the design of black gambit in the comics so i decided to go with another design(that i made the fuck up), my apologies horseman gambit fans.... anyways enjoy the first fic we're posting here !!! thank you @genderqueerbarbie777 for beta reading :3

Summery: Remy was dead. Or so you thought. There was a man that sounded like him, had his powers, but... why did he look like that? Who was this? This wasn't your Remy.

Themes: Angst, Hurt w/ No Comfort, Previous Relationship, Betrayal, Crying, Cursing, Kidnapping, R's a mutant/x-man (no powers written), Violence.

Word Count: 1.6k

next pt

Apocalypse had chosen the perfect moment to strike, the X-Men still mourning Gambit's death. You were still shaken up about it, though it had happened months ago. You loved him, you really loved him. Even if you never let anyone but him know. You stood up from the blast, dusting yourself off till you're frozen, hearing a voice behind you.

"Cher...?" You heard, a raspy of remnant of something from your past. It wasn't him. It couldn't be. You turned to look for Remy, but you were met with something... ghoulish.

"Y-... you're not him." You say, voice strained as you look at the creature that stood there, stolen Remy's voice to fool you. The silvery skinned man smirked. He wore Remy's jacket, his fucking jacket, he had his voice, a dark deck of cards in one hand and a baton in the other. This had to be some kind of trick, an illusion, anything but real.

"Oh, but Gambit is him, petit..." The ash covered man walked towards you, his white hair covering his blackened eyes. Even his walk, his mannerisms, they were Remy's. But he was dead, Remy Lebeau was dead. You watched his casket get put in the ground, there was no way this was your lost love.

You backed away as he stood in front of you, looking down with pink glowing eyes as he put the deck of cards in the inner pocket of his jacket. He went to place his bone-y, gaunt hand on your cheek, being met with a quick swat as you took another step back.

"N-no, you're not! Wh-what are you?!" You yelled out, tears swelling in your eyes as you yelled at the thing in front of you, mocking you, mimicking the man you loved, the man you watched die.

This Remy chuckles, a sound that would normally make your heart swell with love, but this... this was dark, something evil behind it. You know if this was really Remy, he'd never hurt you, but you couldn't help the chills that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. He grabs your wrist, pulling you close.

"Gambit's 'Death', baby..." He starts, another low chuckle coming from his lips, "But he remembers you, cher. You're mine, remember?" These words, they brought a memory that shook you to your core.

"Cher, what are you doing?" Remy spoke softly, watching you walk into his room at the mansion. He laughed at the sight of you, your face flushed as you took off your jacket. "Ya gonna answer ol' Remy or nah?"

"I'm tired. I want... to be held." You murmur, laying on the bed next to him, quick to get his attention away from whatever he was doing before. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling the covers over you and placing you between his arm, flush against his bare chest.

You both laid there in silence, breathing synced up as he caged you in his arms, head nuzzling your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. "You're okay, mon amour... You're here, you're... mine."

You tried pulling back, the walking corpse in front of you growling lowly. "Don't ya dare fight my hold on you." His voice hissed, strong hand gripping your wrist so hard it made you gasp in pain, the tears finally falling from your eyes.

There's a shocked look on his face, grip loosening ever so slightly as he watches you closely. You notice something slight, something that reminded you of the Remy before. "P-please..." you cry out softly, "Lemme go, Rem."

This upset him, but it also made him smile as you finally acknowledge he's really who he says he is. "I don't think I will, cher..." He turns you around, placing an arm across your middle to hold you against him, other hand still tight on your wrist. "I ain't gonna leave you again. And yer not leavin' me, ya hear?"

The gaunt hand holding your wrist lets go, traveling up your arm, up your neck before finally resting on your chin, holding it softly, thumb caressing your cheek. You can't help but shiver. This causes Remy to laugh again, nuzzling into your skin. "Why are ya afraid of lil ol' me, petit? I ain't gonna hurtcha..."

"Y-you're not?" You ask, voice hoarse and breathy. You smile nervously, leaning your head back against his chest to try and show him you want to trust him. You swallow hard as he sits up, setting his chin on the top of your head.

"Of course not, cher. Why would Gambit do that to ya?" He says softly, eyes looking around at the make shift battlefield that used to be the X Mansion, pointing his baton at your teammates as they fight in the distance. "Looks like they've forgotten you, amour."

Your eyes widen as you realize what he means. It wasn't just that they'd forgotten you, you knew this wasn't true, but that they were fighting without you. They hadn't even bothered to look for you. "No, they... they need me-" You go to walk forwards but his arm around your middle brings you back flush against him.

"No they don't. I do." He growls out, his hand on your chin turning your gaze up to him. "I said it already. We ain't leavin' each other again, yer coming with me." His eyes glow, staring down at you as his grip around you tightens even more.

Your eyes widen "With you? What are you-" You're cut off by his hand on your chin covering you mouth, Remy shushing you softly. Before you can protest, you feel his baton snap to your neck, hitting a pressure point and causing you to pass out.

"Cher? Cher, wake up, please..." You heard, the cold sting of the metal table in the medical bay pressed against your back.

"Remy?" you said weakly, feeling his hands move from your own to your face, pulling you flush against his chest, a tear falling from his eyes. "What's wrong? W-what happened?" You ask, unable to remember the fight from before.

"You got hurt, bad, petit... Gambit though he was gonna lose ya fo' a moment..." He says softly, nuzzling into your skin, his warm touch against your cold skin sending chills up and down your body. It was nice, being in his arms, but in this situation? It felt live a saving grace.

You woke up, your vision blurred and and the sounds around you muffled under a sharp ringing in your ears. You can't move, the small amount you can making your realize you're tied down, laid against the corner of two walls. You try to focus on the voices, eyes closing.

"You brought an X-Man here?! Are you fucking stupid?!" An unfamiliar voice says, angry.

"It's not just any X-Man, it's... my cher..." Remy says, voice breaking slightly. After a second you hear him scream out in pain, causing you to wake up fully, your eyes wide as you look in the direction.

"Weak... he shouldn't even be able to remember his life before becoming Death!" You see the tall, menacing Apocalypse, his arm turning from some kind of taser to his normal hand. He looks over at you, eyes widening as he sees your awake. "What a surprise, though..." He takes a step towards you.

"N-no, don't!" You say, backing yourself against the corner as the towering monster stands a few feet in front of you. You scream out as he grabs you, taking you across the room and throwing you down once again. You hear a click as something snaps around your neck. Your binds are taken off just to be replaced with the same metal that adorns your neck, pressing you flat against whatever surface you're on.

Your eyes look back at Remy as he stands up, face full of defeat as he looks at Apocalypse. "Sir, I'm sorry-" He starts, cutting himself off as the man looks at him. He backs away, lowering his head. You still can't believe it, Remy's alive, but... not himself, working for Apocalypse.

"Well, now that we have an X-Man... why don't we celebrate? This means we won the fight." The tall, broad creature known as Apocalypse says, voice dark with intent. He looks down at you, a grim smile on his face as he speaks again, "Don't try to do anything, mutant. Your powers are useless with the bindings you're in. If you do, however, there will be punishment."

You don't want to test his words, nodding quickly. Your fear and submission causes the man to laugh, clearly entertained that you're so quick to listen. "It seems Gambit has picked the perfect hostage." Apocalypse chuckles, turning his back to you as he addresses the others in the room. "That does not mean I am not disappointed, though, feeble mutant."

He walks up to Remy, who sits up, eyes shaking as he looks up at the taller man. In a swift movement, Apocalypse grabs him by the throat, causing you to yell out. He brings Remy to eye level before speaking, "If you were not needed for the unstoppable force of the Apocalypse, you'd be dead by my hand. Do you understand, mutant?"

Remy nods, closing his eyes as the other man drops him. You stare at him as he lands on his knees, not fighting back. It was strange to see him so... weak, submitting to the orders of terrible force. It was frightening, even. Remy opened his eyes and looked up at Apocalypse, "Yes, sir."

His voice was just as weak as he looked next to Apocalypse. You could tell by the ways his eyes shifted that he was biting back an insult or some smart alack response. That was until they met yours again, all of the pain in them leaving and being replaced with something much more positive. A love that you'd seen many times before, making you sure that this was in fact your Remy.

[wanderingxiao]

idk if you currently take requests, but I've been digging through all of tumblr for some really good (consensual!) Somnophilia smut with wanderer, him just unable to resist reader when they're asleep (i personally prefer afab reader, but genderneutral is fine too!)

Only if you feel comfy with that of course, thx ♡♡

Late Nights

Wanderer x Reader *NSFW*

Warnings: Somnophilia (sex while reader is asleep), established relationship, cursing, degradation, unprotected sex, creampie, Wanderer being a dominant yet embarrassed cutie

A/N: Sorry for the delay in updates! School started back and my fics are now getting longer again when I want to make them shorter :’)

Wanderer scowled at the sight before him. There you were, lying in his bed without a care in the world that you were intruding! The audacity of a mere mortal to invade the privacy of a former god. Blasphemy! If it were any other human he would have knocked the teeth out of them. You were just so lucky to be his lovely girlfriend. Although that didn’t excuse you from taking up his entire bed after he wanted to rest from a long day of catering to the Traveler’s requests of him.

His indigo eyes focused on the way your chest moved up and down, the duvet haphazardly jumbled near your feet, letting the generous chill of night consume your body. His eyes followed to your breasts, your nipples erect and showing through your shirt at the cool nights air. A flood of heat covered the puppet’s cheeks, his scowl only growing deeper at the hot feeling beginning to engulf his abdomen and groin.

“Tsk… how pathetic.” Whether he was saying that directed at himself or you, it’s a mystery. But it was no mystery the way his fingers descended towards your breasts, ghosting his fingertips over your nipples. The pads of his fingers circled over the raised area of fabric, before flicking his finger up and down against the sensitive bud. He didn’t miss the way your legs squeezed together, rubbing them back and forth in attempts to quell the new heat pooling between your legs at the touch. Your chest arched into his touch, practically encouraging him to do more.

“Fuck… you really are a dirty slut.” An arrogant smirk spread across his lips, his movements becoming more bold. Wanderer slowly climbed into the bed beside you, being careful at the way the mattress dipped and creaked under his weight. He raised your shirt up to your chest, letting your breasts free from the confines of your silly pajamas. Saliva pooled within Wanderer’s mouth, his tongue coming to moisten his lips before he descended upon your chest, kissing up your sternum before coming up your collar bones.

A small whimper echoed within his mechanical ears, spurring his actions into groping at your breasts softly, kneading the doughy flesh in his hands. He adored the way you writhed under him in your sleep, twitching and whining at the pleasure he held over you. With daring fingers, he dipped down to shimmy your shorts and panties down enough so he could trace the rough pads of his fingers over your glistening folds.

“H-Hmm… W-Wanderer…” How cute, you were even calling his name in your sleep. Even in rem you knew who took care of you. Wanderer exhaled against your neck, warm breath fanning over your skin now riddled in goosebumps. His lips ghosted over your pulse point, tongue peeking out to lovingly lick and suck against that point. Your fists began to clutch against the bed sheets, whining at the teasing pleasure of his tongue against your neck and his fingers rubbing so lewdly against your wet folds.

“Such a dirty little bitch… hah, you don’t even deserve my cock for the way you’re behaving.” Wanderer was finding it harder and harder to control himself. He could practically feel your cunt begging to have his fingers inside, almost sucking him in. With slow precision, he embedded his fingers into your drooly pussy. He groaned at the tight feeling around his fingers, pumping them in and out lightly, not missing the quiet lewd squelch that filled the air. “So fucking wet…”

His eyes were glued to your facial expressions, memorizing every scrunch or twitch that spread over your face as his fingers slid in and out. His thumb slid up, finding your puffy clit with ease and rubbing teasing of circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your legs tried to close around him, trying your hardest in your now rousing state of sleep to get the heat to resolve within your loins. Wanderer only increased his motions, biting his lip as a blush spread from the tips of his ears to his cheeks.

His head craned to take one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking gingerly before swirling his tongue around the bud. At this point your body was coated in a thin layer of sweat. The way his fingers pumped in and out of your pussy, the way his mouth seemed to slobber over your tits, and the sinfully wet noises that only aroused the puppet further. It all felt so good. He soon grew irritant of the strain against his length, his entire body pulling away from you, leaving you whining and squirming beneath him.

“You asked for this, slut. Laying so pretty here on my bed. You’re just begging to have me fuck you dumb.” Wanderer growled out gruffly, his hands undoing his shorts hastily. His kimono top slid off his shoulders and loosely around his forearms, the divine outlines of his inorganic body beginning to glow as his emotions began to consume him. A shaky groan left his mouth, his shoulders slumping as his hard cock was freed. The tip twitched lewdly, an oozy pearl of pre-cum globing at the angry tip. “F-Fuck…”

His slender fingers gripped his firm shaft, positioning himself between your legs. The tip smeared over your folds, soaking his tip in your slick. The small bead of pre-cum stuck to your folds, sharp indigo eyes narrowing in bliss at the lewd display. Wanderer grit his teeth, hips bucking shallowly against your cunt to feel more friction. He checked once more to ensure you were still asleep before biting his lip. Pressure was applied to your twitching hole, and with one languid buck of his hips, the tip was now inside.

Your back arched against Wanderer, moaning softly feeling the tip of his generous length fulfilling the ache to have something inside. Your lover held your hips firmly, watching with a flushed face and glowing outlines how his tip appeared and disappeared inside of you so lewdly. Each slow thrust grew deeper and deeper, your fluids coating his cock in slippery ecstasy. He just couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way your pussy took him so well. His once shallow and slow thrusts began to pick up, careful not to smack his thighs against yours in a pleasured frenzy.

“W… Wan… derer~ ahh, hah…~” You let out a small whimper, your legs beginning to shake beside him. The feeling of being so full was beginning to surface. The pleasure he gave you was like no other. Even in sleep, you knew his body like the back of your hand. You knew his touch, his moans, and his delicious length. Your head turned to the side, whining softly as his pace increased, his pelvis starting to firmly press against yours each time he thrust back inside. Your eyes fluttered slightly, unable to comprehend what was going on until you looked up to see your lover towering over you. “E-Eh?! Wanderer?! H-Hey what’re you- Ahn!”

“Finally awake?” Wanderer growled above you, his face illuminated by the glowing markings over his inorganic body. His body arched over you, smacking his hand beside your head as he slammed his hips against yours in a harsh delicious thrust. Your head threw back into the pillows, crying out his name as electrifying bolts of ecstasy and lust flooded your nerves. “Yeah? F-Fucking like when I fuck you like this? Hah, you dirty little b-bitch! Ngh!”

“M-Mhm! Ahh~” Your vision turned white for a brief moment, seeing sparkling stars as his sticky cock smushed against your sweet spot. He could tell it too, the way you squeezed him so good. His elbow dropped beside you, his face so close to yours you could feel his hot breath. His other hand wrapped around your back, holding you tightly against his body as his pounded his cock into the deepest crevices of your fluttering cunt. Your velvety walls squeezing him so good, the brush of his tip against your sweet spot, the ridges of every vein in his cock throbbing against your shaky walls. It was all too much. “Wanderer! O-Oh fuck! I-I can’t-!”

“Shut your, mmm, pretty mouth a-and take what I give you. U-Ungrateful whore! S-Shit…!” His soft indigo hair tickled your forehead when his lips collided with yours in a sloppy kiss. Teeth clinking lightly, tongues aggressively swirling together as you both fought for dominance over the other. He pulled you back against him, his pelvis smushing against your clit with every lewd buck of his hips. The bed creaked wildly under your shifting weight. Loud and heavy pants littered with desperate moans and shaky grunts filled the air. Your hands roamed his back, clinging onto his body shirt and pulling at the fabric as your climax began to approach. The twitching of his cock and faltering pace told you he was close too. “C-C’mon slut… f-fucking cum for me! Cum a-all fucking over my cock! Agh…!”

“W-Wanderer! W-Wanderer… Wander- Mm! Ahhh!” He stilled above you, hips stuttering as ribbons of his gooey seed filled you up. Every twitch of his cock against your walls with his tip bullied against your sweet spot had you reeling. Your body convulsed under him, gasping for air as your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. You gushed over him, your slick fluids sticking around the base of his length. He pulled out slowly, only to push back in firmly, flooding your pussy until his cum began to slip out. “Mm! S-So sensitive! Wait!”

Wanderer whimpered softly, pulling his body up and away from you slowly, keeping his creamy cock enclosed by your warm inviting walls. The glow of his body slowly flickered out, his breathing returning to normal after a few more seconds of heavy breaths. He pulled himself out of you, watching with keen eyes the way your hole twitched and shuttered at the empty feeling left. Dribbles of cum oozed from your pussy, causing redness to blossom on his face once more at the lewd display. “Tsk… sorry.” You laid tiredly against the bed, your own breathing slowly coming back as your heart slowed down from its once racing pace.

“N-No need. It’s okay.” You opened your arms weakly to him, a small smile stretching across your face. Wanderer only looked at you and turned his head away, hiding his embarrassed face. All but the tips of his flushed ears. “You started this.” His voice was quiet and accusatory. Not wanting to admit to himself that he was swayed so easily by your body. You rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand gently. “I liked it. I wouldn’t mind waking up like that all the time… would you… be opposed if I came and lived with you?” His eyes widened, turning to you with a flustered expression. You could only giggle in response, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

“Tsk! Do whatever you want… idiot.”

Hope you enjoyed! My “short” fics are getting long again, ack! I’ll try to make them shorter so I can update more frequently :( Have a good day! 💙

[wyldthots]

Mommy Teaches Me Something New

This work has sexual content. If you are a minor, please do not interact. If your blog does not have an age, you will be blocked. Don't like it, don't read it.

TW: noncon, fauxcest, mommy!dom, somno

It was a school night, so I went to bed early. I knew I wouldn't see either mommy or my stepdad Josh until after school tomorrow, so I went to bed in a big T-shirt and panties. Usually, I'm a pretty deep sleeper, but tonight, I felt like I couldn't get into a good enough sleep cycle.

I feel myself slowly being pulled to the surface of slumber with a chill across my skin. Weird, I usually sleep with lots of blankets on and rarely get cold... I finally break through my REM cycle and can feel familiar hands running over my legs, hips, and up my stomach. Trailing up to my breasts and tweaking my nipples.

I gasp and moan out for her. "Ohhhh, mommy." My voice was raspy and quiet from sleep. She shushes me between kisses scattered across my skin.

"Baby, I know it's late. I didn't want to wake you up, but Mommy has a favor to ask..."

Mommy inches her way up my body until we are face to face. I absolutely love kissing mommy. So messy and wet. I just woke up but, I'm breathing like I just ran a marathon. She's teasing me and I know it, but I can't help but try to lick at her. The tip of my tongue brushes her pouty lips softly, and I can feel her smile. I reach up and caress the back of her neck and give in to my desires as I lick inside her open mouth. Our tongues roll and dance around one another until I finally suck on her tongue like I did her strapon last week. Mommy finally breaks away from my devouring kiss.

"You have gotten so good at that, baby. I'm so glad we are on the same page. Josh tried to have fun with Mommy tonight, but all I could think about was you. You know how Mommy made you feel good when we had the house to ourselves? I need you to learn how to make your mommy feel that way."

The whole time she is speaking, I can hear her shuffling and stripping herself of her pajamas. The room is dark, but I nod like she could see me. Mommy wouldn't take "no" for an answer anyway... I feel her shift so that she has a knee on either side of my body as she starts to move up my body. She stops and sits on my chest. I can feel her bare, hot, wet core against my skin.

"Mommy's gonna sit on your face. And you're going to make out with my pussy all messy like you like to do. Okay, baby?" She started moving up my body even higher until her knees were on either side of my head.

I was so excited to help Mommy out and make her feel good that I wrapped my arms around her thick, warm thighs and dove right in. Mommy had never had me lick her pussy before, but since we started playing I have watched a lot of videos of other girls doing this sort of thing. I traced her lips with the tip of my tongue and flicked at her clit. I knew I was doing something right because Mommy sighed and sank down even more on my mouth. I push my tongue on the seam of her pussy and trace it until her lips spread and I could taste her wetness. She was always so sweet after she had me lick her fingers or her strap, but tonight it tastes a little different. More sour. and a little thicker than her usual slick...

"Ooohhh... Lick it, baby. Clean up Mommy with your tongue. Daddy left you a present..." She started humping onto my mouth more and grabbed my hair to tilt my head back. We usually don't talk about my mom's husband, Josh, but tonight she seems to be talking about him a lot... I don't know how he could have left me a present tho...

I pushed it to the back of my mind as I pushed my tongue into her tight, warm hole. Mommy groaned at the intrusion and her breathing got heavy the way it does when she feels good. I reach one hand up to play with her nipples and the other grabs her hip to help her use my face. The more I trusted my tongue into her, the more I got that weird taste from her. She almost tasted salty...

I move my tongue up and find her clit before I finally sucked on her gently. I gave Mommy attention to her clit like she did to mine on her day off. We had so much fun together... She makes a little whimper in her throat and tugged on my hair. I went back to fucking her pussy with my tongue. I am kind of struggling to breath, because Mommy has stopped holding herself off my face but I know it'll be worth it once she comes.

Mommy starts grinding on my face faster and faster with louder moans. One of her hands forces mine to continue cupping her breast and tweaking her nipple. It is getting harder to force my tongue into her tight pussy as I feel her spasm around me. I know this is what she sounds like when she comes. I have listened at her bedroom door more times to count. I shove myself deeper and massage that perfect spot inside her until she froze in ecstasy.

I kept giving Mommy little kitten licks until she finally pushed herself off me and collapsed into bed on her back. I wasn't quite done so I rolled onto my front and started kissing, licking, and sucking on my Mommy's breasts. She caresses my head and thanks me.

"That was exactly what Mommy needed. Josh was so greedy in bed tonight. He doesn't make mommy feel the way I make you feel in our fun times... But little does he know, I got you." She kissed the top of my head and pushed me away, gently. I can see her outline in the dark room move off the bed and look for her pajamas.

"Go back to sleep, baby. You have to be up for school in a few short hours."

My heart sank at the realization that Mommy wasn't staying with me. In my dark room, alone, I realize that Mommy has me... but do I have her? And in Mommy's dark room, Josh is thinking about the conversation and sounds he heard coming from under my door when he went to get a glass of water...

[fourmoony]

Hi!

Oh, I just saw your halloween thing and I think Pumpkin Patch Date #9 Would be adorable adorable with Remus!

I love your works, I'm going to go finish binging all of them ♡

thanks for requesting lovely!! ♡︎

484 words

"That is rancid!" Remus splutters, thrusting the offending coffee in your direction like it's personally offended him.

You take the coffee, unable to help the laugh that escapes you. Lucky for Remus, he hadn't been convinced enough by your love for pumpkin spiced lattes enough to buy one of your own. So, he washes the taste from his mouth with his own coffee. "How can you drink that?" Remus asks, visibly disgusted.

You follow him along as he starts to walk, the sound of leaves under his boots accompanying your laughter. Taking a drink of your drink, you shrug. "I dunno, it just tastes... festive." You tell him.

Remus scoffs, mutters a quiet festive under his breath.

Laughing, still, you bump your shoulder into his. It's as good of an excuse as any for Remus to pull you closer, tucked under his arm as you walk your way through the park. There's a mixture of browns, greens, and yellows all across the park, a chill in the air that makes you glad you stole one of Remus' knitted sweaters.

"So," Remus huffs, "The Potter's are having a masquerade party for halloween."

"I've always wanted to go to one of those. They always have such romantic vibes." You sigh wistfully.

Isn't it every little girls wish to have a prince chase after her, trying to find her, because he doesn't know what she looks like - only that she's the love of his life?

Remus smiles down at you. It pulls the tiny scar atop his lip taught. You can't help but reach up to peck it softly. Remus doesn't believe you love his scars as much as you say you do. But it's true. They make him even more handsome. Infinitely more interesting to look at. You could stare at him all day long if he'd let you.

"Okay, well, I doubt that'll be the vibes at this one. More like Monty and Euphemia net working whilst Sirius makes us get drunk in the parlour like we're still sixteen." Remus laughs. "But I'd still love for you to come. To meet James' parents."

Your boyfriend's own parents have always had a strained relationship with him. They're good people. They just don't see eye to eye with Remus sometimes. You know well that Remus thinks of the Potters as a second set of parents, a safe place. And you're honoured that he'd like for you to meet them.

"I'd love to, Rem." You tell him.

He smiles, eyes crinkling in the corners. He's so beautiful.

You reach a small bench, Remus pulls you to sit beside him. You drink your coffees in silence, commenting only when someone passes with a cute dog. The leaves fall around you and you feel utterly content.

And when Remus kisses you, soft and sweet, he doesn't even complain about the taste of pumpkin spice latte thats on your tongue.

[scribbleseas]

in love & in war: the one where he meets you

Description: Join Ciel, the Earl of Phantomhive, as he embarks on one of the most difficult challenges of his professional life: getting you to fall in love with him in order to become the next chairman of TransAtlantica— your father’s vast shipping empire.

Warnings: The reader’s opinions are a bit old-fashioned, and they don’t reflect my own! Besides that, I’m sure there will be some explicit content down the line, but honestly, this story is much more romcom than our usually scheduled programming. It’s just a silly palette cleanser in season for Valentine’s Day.

Author’s Note: Hi! You guys expressed that you guys like more frequent posts, and I’ve reached a bit of a roadblock on my main Ciel fic right now. I thought I would write up a quick beginning to a potential drabble series! If you guys are interested in this premise, let me know! It’s fun to write such chill stakes content for once lol. Also, this isn’t based off a particular request! I’m still playing with my ideas from those, and at this point, I can confidently say you guys are getting either a one shot or a 1-3 part series based on one. Thank you all for submitting, and feel free to keep them coming.

Happy Reading!

- Dan

| NEXT DRABBLE ⇒

MASTERLIST

In Conference

Late May, 1895

Your life was nowhere near as easy as it seemed.

Perhaps, the average onlooker might see you and presume that the expensive jewels wrapped around your neck and your fingers were the most burdensome aspect of your privileged life. Or perhaps they might have thought it would be the pinch from your stately heels or the strain from a brilliant, yet strategic, permanent smile.

Your business smile. Your future-Countess-of-Richmond smile.

But they couldn’t have been more wrong.

This very moment was exact proof of that— you were in the midst of your world collapsing. The abject shock rattling through your mind was akin to a nightmare. Your eyebrows pulled together in a contentious pout, the horrified look you used to get away with your most childish crimes from your parents.

“Marriage? Simply not.” You begged, alreadying feeling your will to fight waver under your father’s tired stare, your mother’s pained grin. “I’m only—”

“Of perfect age to begin looking for a potential partner. 22 is well past ready, I would say,” your mother answered for you.

“I would be— but—” you sputtered like a fish out of water only to inhale deeply through your nose. You needed to collect yourself. Negotiate thoughtfully and logically. That was the only way to get yourself out of this.

“Speak with intent, Y/n,” your father interjected boredly, retraining his attention on the business reports he was reading. He fixed his glasses, pushing them further up the bridge of his nose.

Speak with intent. You knew those words well. They were your solace, the lighthouse in the storm that came with childhood temperament. Your father, no matter the cause of your distress, would answer: Speak with intent.

“Right,” you cleared your throat apologetically, glancing down at your hands as they sat clasped in your lap. “Sincerest apologies, sir.”

Your father hummed, eyebrows jumping a fraction of a centimeter. He picked up his pen and scribbled his signature at the bottom of the report. Your mother’s hand fell on the nape of his neck to make him turn his gaze back up at you. He hesitated before doing so, waiting to click a stamp onto the signed report.

“I do not wish to marry,” you enunciated your words carefully, confidently. “At least, not yet,” you added, now catching your father’s attention for the blunder. “I’ve yet to meet someone I love,” you felt your face redden, a desire to run back to your room threatening to overtake your fortitude. You were only so strong under your father, the Earl of Richmond’s deliberation stare. It struck fear into the other side of conference tables, lecture halls, and courtrooms. And now, across his desk at his only daughter.

Before your father could remind you that love wasn’t the most important aspect of a successful marriage, your mother interjected gently.

“What about the Duke of Clarence’s son, Antonio? He seemed to like you,” she prompted. Wrongly. You’d danced with Antonio at the Summer Solstice gala that the Pembroke family threw annually. The man opted to use the waltz’s entirety to brag about his family’s Italian vineyards and his love for agriculture. And, of course, his admiration for your father’s entrepreneurial genius. His shipping empire, TransAtlantica, had just successfully fortified shipping systems in all of the states; a step forward from simply cycling through all major ports along the east coast.

“He doesn’t love me,” you complained, “he loves TransAtlantica. He’d much prefer to marry our family corporation!” Antonio was suitable. He was decent, but that’s all he truly was to you. It’s all he ever could be.

You met your mother’s eyes pleadingly, and she pursed her lips, fully knowing the next words out of your mouth. You had a deal. From a young age, you knew the Richmond family, the Y/l/n line, respected contracts more than all else. Since you turned 17, you had one signed by all three parties and dated.

Your mother sucked in a breath through her teeth. “I remember the deal,” she said, taking a moment to consider her own words. The corners of her lips twitched as if she was attempting to hide her amusement with you. She understood— her own father, your grandfather, was just as militant, stiff with professionalism. Promises were negotiations with terms, signatures, and stamps. There were no arguments this way. “Dearest,” she addressed your father, the hand that was on the back jumping to his shoulder, “you do as well.”

“Do you?” You challenged, indignantly crossing your arms. “I request you restate the terms, mother.”

“If we are to pressure you into marriage before you feel ready, you must consent to the courting party,” your father took the liberty of answering gruffly. He squared his shoulders, regarding you purposefully— equal parts exhaustion and respect for your endurance. He cultivated it, after all. It was a fire that burned in your family for generations, as sacred as a temple flame.

“Yes,” you affirmed, “and so, I must choose the man I wish to be with.”

“With respect to your titles— no one below your station. And he must be chosen by the end of this courtship season,” your father added, negotiating. He tilted his head, analyzing your next move.

You knew of the first term since you were a child. You even remembered the exact day you learned them. You were a young girl, a little younger than seven. A young commoner boy had attempted to hand you a rose. Your maid at the time had scolded him for standing in the way of a noble family, since he had stepped out in front of you. It was a discernible moment, truly.

As for your father’s second term… you were unconvinced such a thing could be done.

“The end of the courtship season is in four months,” you replied, frowning. You were sure you met most eligible men in your social class. How were you to form a genuine connection in such little time? Even if you couldn’t find love per se, you still wanted to find someone you were compatible with.

“If we reach that deadline and you find no one, we can talk about it,” your mother answered. “And, you must allow me and your aunt to fix you on outings with suitors we like.

“Fine. Only if Daphne joins me,” you replied, knowing fully well that you weren’t allowed anywhere without your handmaiden present.

. . .

Next week

Your mother was sure not to waste any time in beginning to schedule supervised outings with a different well-educated and ennobled man that was within the appropriate age constraints. You’ve never had such a boring week, brutally torn away from the studies you adored so much.

“—And we’ve got another vacation home down in Tuscany, I think,” the Viscount Lineford’s son concluded, taking a peremptory drink out of his tea. He was dressed crisply in beige trousers that rolled up past his ankle and low leather shoes. His sterling watch sparkled in the spring sun.

You fought a building yawn that tempted the back of your throat, determined to hide your exhaustion with the man. It was a good effort, but you certainly weren’t impressed.

“That must be incredible,” you answered absently. “It must be such a lovely foreign getaway for the Lineford family,” you grinned diplomatically, blind to the horror that twisted his — you didn’t care to remember his name, unfortunately — face.

“Foreign? Excuse me Lady Y/n, but my family traces far back into Italian culture that we are practically Roman…” he started, only for you to interject.

“Will you just excuse me, please?” You struggled to keep the desperation out of your face, calmly searching for your supervisor. She was meant to be sitting at a table nearby, merely ensuring that your outing remained within polite societal constraints. More importantly, Daphne served as your escape when your potential suitors proved most unbearable. All you needed to do was subtly tilt your fan to your left ear and the woman would always scramble over to you with an excuse to steer you out of any scenario you found distasteful.

Such as this one.

Daphne never normally left your side, a realization that allowed worry to creep into your tone. “I’m unsure where my maid went, and I would like to fetch her,” you replied, standing and shouldering your small day bag over your shoulder.

“I’m sorry?” He asked, chuckling with bitter disbelief at your rudeness. Ladies were supposed to be demure and polite. You were impatient and honest, a product of an Earl knowing that his daughter was the object of his legacy. Your father trained you as he would a son, and your tutors followed in suit. “Surely you’re joking; this is the middle of our tea.”

Her pocketbook and her sweater weren’t even sitting on the chair she had been occupying, causing you to blink at the empty table in disbelief.

“No, I’m not. I think something might be wrong,” you shouldered past the man, stepping between other individuals sitting at the common tables in the park.

“Fine, you aren’t worth it anyway!” He called at your back, but the words hardly registered with you.

The area was rather common for courting pairs to visit in the early spring. However, it could also be populated with…criminals. “Excuse me,” you mumbled, quickly walking down the paved pathway through the greenery to the main sidewalk, the London pavement heavy with pedestrians. The streets were perhaps more crowded with carriages and sweating horses.

You couldn’t be alone in the city! As a woman of your stature, it simply wasn’t done. Never. Ever. It was an affront to your teachings, and it was unsafe. You needed your friend, not some stranger.

“Where is she?” You mumbled, rapidly attempting to discern every face that passed you. Surely it wouldn’t be long until someone recognized you— you were one of the most photographed families in the country. In fact, you were fortunate no one had offered your location to the press while you were on this outing. You never would have heard the last of it.

Some took hold of your handbag and darted off, using your distractedness to his advantage. He ran to the end of the block and crossed the street, weaving through pedestrians once the crossing guard allowed your side to walk over. If your hand hadn’t been tightly clutching the strap as you walked, you never would have noticed.

You did your best to pick up your speed and chase him, yelling out.

You cried out, glancing down at your long springtime dress. Your short heels were nowhere near efficient enough for you to make a chase out of the robbery, nor should have needed to! Even still, you lunged into the street — without looking.

In fact, if you had committed to your step, you would’ve been flattened by an oncoming carriage, given that the crossing guard had ordered pedestrians to stop passing moments prior. The only reason why you didn’t make the life-ruining step seemed to be… a tall young man with a serious face and staggering presence. He only had one exposed blue eye, the other was concealed by a black eyepatch. His grip tightened around your arm, pulling you intimately into his chest.

You breathed heavily, tearing yourself out of his arms. A flair of irritation caused you to glare at him as you righted your stance and smooth your dress. However, he did save you from a potentially life ending situation. His immediate insurance of your safety was more meaningful than a misaligned gown that you fixed in seconds.

In fact, the moment truly was a bit theatrical. The man was handsome enough to make you smile with uncertainty, your irritation melting. “Thank you for that,” you said, relieved that the sidewalk seemed to clear, the crowd dispersing from the main street. “I could have been killed.”

“That would have been quite a shame,” he replied, locking eyes with you. The man made a thin attempt at returning your smile. He was enchanting, regal… your heart skipped a beat, considerably flustered.

…Until he spoke again, completely distorting the immediate magnetic lure you felt from his sharp features: “Rather careless of you, my Lady. You ought to be smarter than that.”

You frowned. “In case you failed to notice, that man stole my handbag and essentially disappeared,” you snapped impatiently. It had your identification, emergency notes in case you needed to purchase something, the current novel you were fixated on…how were you meant to return to the estate now?

“You weren’t catching him, I don’t think,” he noted astutely, watching you as you stepped past him to go in the direction you came from. Perhaps Daphne circled back to the park in search of you. You absolutely needed to find her.

“Thank you for your help. Good day,” you answered brusquely, continuing to walk. However, he remained in stride with you, still unabashedly smug. It quickly absolved you of any former gratefulness you had toward the man for pulling you away from oncoming traffic. Perhaps it might have hurt less to have collided with a horse and a carriage over the velocity and mass of this random man’s ego.

“What, don’t tell me you going to go chase him,” He said patronizingly, a sardonic pull infecting what you thought was initially a careful smile. No, the man was just another arrogant bastard, it seemed. “In those shoes, especially,” He perused, causing you to stop once more and regard him.

“I am a noble woman, you will not speak to me in such a manner no matter what line of—“ you caught the sapphire family and silver crest rings around two of his fingers — ���mediocre destitution you come from!” You jabbed purposefully, undeserving of his rudeness and his condescension, no matter what title he occupied in your class. You were the partial inheritor of TransAtlantia; you trained to run the company to some degree since you could speak. Few could step to you.

“I believe I said good day, kind sir,” you added poisonously, daring him to continue to test you before speeding back towards the park. You needed Daphne, you needed an officer…anyone besides this pompous— you ended the thought before you could further infect yourself with such unladylike curses.

It really wasn’t so easy being the daughter of an Earl.

CIEL PHANTOMHIVE

“I’ve planned things so Lady Y/n’s maid is off helping a little girl find her mother; I separated the two by distracting the girl with a kitten. Y/n will panic without her maid being within her immediate reach, drawing her out to the street. I will cause her to put herself in harm’s way by distracting her at the corner of 89th Street and Arthur. Be ready by the street post. I’ve made the new paralegal late to his case, he will have instructed his butler to drive quick. You will need to pull her away from the street. If you miss, things may end rather…unfortunately for the young woman,” Ciel Phantomhive’s butler, Sebastian Michealis, outlined.

Sebastian was Ciel’s head butler, his head chef, head landscaper, tailor, tutor… but most importantly, the Earl of Phantomhive’s contracted demon. The supernatural being was at his disposal and his bidding; his new role being the most interesting one of all: matchmaker. He fabricated a scene for Ciel to meet Y/n Y/l/n, and ideally, make her love him.

It was simple, really. Ciel needed a wife; Y/n’s family needed a competent businessman to run that prosperous giant of a shipping enterprise; and most importantly, the woman seemed to be rather competent. The only danger to his strategy was, of course, Y/n’s foul storybook idealism, apparently. Ciel knew Y/n was highly educated and well graced in ettiquiete, but she seemed intent on finding some happily ever after of sorts.

She wanted a husband— a bloody love match. No— she needed an actor to convince her that she was worth marrying beyond the incredible status she represented. There was no asset greater than a title and an economic monarchy to inherit, and securing such a prize meant that Ciel needed to woo her.

“My Lord, you must be considerate, but not too kind. Though you should also refrain from acting too smugly or the lady may take offense,” his butler had offered some horrifically embarrassing — and incredibly unhelpful — acting lessons for him to express the particular warmth Lady Y/n seemed to be looking for.

Love. A feeling Ciel hadn’t known in around nine years. Arguably, it could’ve been more. And yet, in order to stop being solicited by desperate mothers and unlikely candidates, he was securing his bride.

According to Ciel’s butler, that meant he needed to create a memorable foundation in the woman’s mind, an introduction that would leave her curious, impassioned. Wanting more. Something to make him stand out amongst the other faceless, classless mouth breathers who would be vying for TransAtlantica, now that word of her search for a suitor was widespread.

The company and Y/n’s hand were all one in the same courtship, and Ciel was sure the was going to win both.

The Earl of Phantomhive was never one to lose. He’d be remiss to start now.

[iminaworldofpureimagination]

LOL is that why my teenage self loved em so much such dramatic boys with a superority complex as someone who is a fan of s1 Zuko and rems him in s2 this is LEGIT and its so hard to find people in the fandom who even like canon zuko theyjustmakehimboring. by claiming hes super mature but hes just not.. .nor do i want him to be if he wasn't a hothead dramatic egoman he'd be so boring .

godilovezimlol.

Can't find a post i wrote about Zuko and Zim being basically the same character but i found an Invader Zim compilation to prove my point:

[mogamuncher]

“You're on a path in the woods. And at the end of that path, is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin, is a knight. You are here to slay him. If you don't, it will be the end of the world.”

Please accept my meager shitty art as we come back for part three of the "Moga fuses her hyperfixations together" saga! Aka: Slay the Knight AU!

Here's what I think Emilia and Subaru would look like, in true STP fashion I imagine both would never be referred to by name, instead being The Knight and The Frozen Bond (hah, get it?)

I made Emilia a little scary (and kinda Satella-esque), but that's mainly because from what we see in The Princess and The Dragon route, The Long Quiet is just actually fucking scary, so having Emilia be similarly intimidating would be fun.

Though I do think her personality would remain the same in this au, mainly because she's nice enough that she would naturally play mediator to the the voices, but malleable enough that she could just end up going with their whims when pushed enough.

Now for Subaru, I actually wanted to give him a definitive outfit that would kinda function like the Princess's dress, something that is a constant in every design but changed to fit the theme, the recognizable trait that showcases that no matter how fucked up these forms get they're still the same person

That's kinda why the little cape is there, it's supposed to be a significant design choice that can be warped with future forms

For the official lore, I like to think that it's still actually very similar:

The Frozen Bond, the manifestation/god of stasis, consistency, the chilling frozen in time allure of stagnation

While Subaru would be something like The Returning Cycle, the manifestation/god if constant change, perspective and identities splitting depending on choices, the constant cycle of time

Together they'd make the cycle of life and death, in a sense, and since Echidna in canon was trying to find a way to reach immortality, it is only fitting that she would split them apart and attempt to pit them against the other, as to goad Emilia into killing Subaru, this ending the concept of change, making it so that there is no means of which others can die.

But that's what I have for the moment, now, let's talk about some more ideas I have for the IF Barus

The Prisoner, my beloved

I rewatched someone playing her route and it dawned on me when The Shifting Mound described her as a vessel, but she's oddly a lot like Slothbaru

The idea of someone cautious to the point of stagnation, content to let the world pass her and remain in inaction, I mean, that's literally what Sloth is shown to be in the og series. That's also inherently what Slothbaru did when he took Rem's hand and ran away, leaving everyone else to die, but gaining a happy life for himself

Prisoner is like an Slothbaru that can't take Rem's hand, content to let the world pass him by for the sake of self preservation, but stuck in one place without the chance of running away, he can only wait and see because he's inherently passive, as he thinks he has no other choice

The Adversary, however, is the funniest one I think

Someone mentioned in the last post in the tags that Adversary is kinda Smolbaru coded, so I went back to read the arena fights in arc 7 and y'know what? They're correct, they're absolutely right, The Adversary is very much just Smolbaru

Which is funny, because The Adversary is supposed to be bigger and stronger than usual, though maybe it's either just that his personality is Smolbaru and his appearance is still intimidating, or we go all in and have Smolbaru just absolutely kick Emilia's ass with his bare hands in this one

Either way, I love it, also this is the route where Priscilla (Voice of the Proud) would show up, so having an Arc 7 Baru here would be a nice touch

Ok so I'm about to sound unhinged, but the Grey's

What if they were Natsumi.

Now, look, I have no evidence to back me up on this, I'm going off from pure vibes alone, but like what if

Honestly, it would be fun to have most of the Deadbarus be in some way or another Natsumi coded, though that would be fused with the Baru that lead to their routes in the first place (like Arc 1 Baru for the Burned Grey and Slothbaru for the Drowned Grey)

I mean, look at The Wraith and The Spectre

Imagine if the Spectre was more akin to Natsumi in her purest form, since the Spectre is actually surprisingly chill and nice about this whole thing, and then if you attempt to leave him there, you get the Wraith

A withered rotten version of Natsumi, falling apart at the seams and determined to hitch a ride and finally leave

In more confirmed Barus; Wrathbaru as The Witch and The Thorn, Greedbaru as Happily Ever After and Arc 1-2 Baru as The Damsel, The Nightmare would be Gluttonybaru and A Moment Of Clarity would still be Gluttonybaru but with more Louis/Rui elements

Again, I accept suggestions, and tell me if you want me to make more art for this AU, maybe I can draw more Barus and also the voices, who knows?

Edit: good news gang, I actually did in fact write this! The first chapter of this au is out here!

[scruffyssketchbook]

I wanted to show of designs I made for my au ss*ec! This is all pre-box 31 stuff so most of these won’t end up canon to the au. It’s a role swap au and they are above/below the character they are swapped with. Here’s some random info for them all (and some extra characters) Even (Nego): Gp rep, trying his best, the trainer drew a blank on name ideas so named him because he was an even number of eevees she hatched, has the darkrai “mark of the legends” Blizz: Id leader, treats every brotherhood equally, besties with bolt (tempted to make the ship canon to this au), silly guy Bolt: on the trainers main team so they aren’t there very often, non-binary (the trainer knows because they would lightly zap her until she caught on) Sora: Id deputy, wears the soothe bell as a reminder of Dusk before he lost his memory, thinks she’ll never find love because of Dusks amnesia, in her room writing most of the time, Miku is like Jay if that makes sense? Flame: Lf dep, doesn’t do his job, apathetic and smug, just chilling tbh Rem (eve): full name is compromise, just a baby Dusk: Gp leader, loves learning new things (especially because of his amnesia) Dawn: Lf leader (brotherhood change because Flame can’t possibly be leader lol), popular like og Dawn, eyes glow purple Tide (Vay): name changed for the same reason og Miku’s did (I don’t know it), pretends he’s a superhero stopping evildoers in Kalos, purugly is in the pokeball on his cape Daisy: so stressed please someone help her, stays in her room most of the time, has several potted plants in her room Bow and Oliver are role swapped, Dennys role is replaced with a character named Oddball (even and odd funny silly), Night is a glaceon named hail

[suffarustuffaru]

why the emilia camp thinks otto is their most threatening member 👍

i see some people being confused on why the emilia camp collectively seems to agree that otto is the biggest threat there for some reason and like. yeah. i get it.

but let me explain real quick why i think it makes sense for the emilia camp to think that :O !!

otto though is disarming because. well okay look at him he doesnt look threatening at all. he has the looks and personality of a wet cat. hes whiny. hes cringe fail. he gets stressed out with paperwork. he looks like you could just smack him around like a bug. he HAS been smacked around like a bug. but that makes him unpredictable because apart from roswaal, he is the Most Amoral one there. you can expect roswaal to be trying some shit, but youd never know when to expect otto is planning something. his moral compass is just “does this benefit me or my loved ones in some way? if not, then its gonna be gone 🥺”.

sure, he does nice things sometimes out of the goodness of his heart. he genuinely means well a lot of the time.

but also then you read the shit hes thinking in his internal dialogue and its like.

“should i go save some girl i dont even know from bandits??? hmm lemme think for a couple minutes. im the only one that can help rn… some guy claiming to be her dad is begging me to help his daughter, but also hes kind of annoying… but i dont even live in this city so why should i help… or Care. actually. but i feel kinda bad about this girl… but also this is gonna put me and my profits in danger… but if i reject helping then im forever gonna be known as the guy who abandoned them and then i wont be able to make any sales in this city anymore :<<<< ……anyway im gonna help them then lol im so smart.” and then he gets captured by the exact same bandits anyway so hes like “well okay now me and this girl might be sold into slavery so i might as well save both of us or ill feel bad ☝️☝️”

(yes. yes this is genuinely ottos thought process if you read through the Otto's Bittersweet Peddling Log side story.)

except all the back and forth Calculation he does in his head Stays In His Head and doesnt match up with his outward appearance most of the time. which means that sometimes his words dont match up with his actions. “dont be surprised if i leave at the first sign of danger,” he says, right after risking his life and writing a suicide note over a dude hes known for like four days. “ahah thanks for giving me a vacation to see my family…” he says, damn well knowing he cant go back home yet otherwise he’ll get sniped by assassins. “im gonna give you some of my own money bounty money to help you BUT BUT BUT DONT THINK THAT IM NICE OR ANYTHING I NEED MOST OF THE MONEY FOR REPAIRS OK YOU CAN ONLY HAVE A BIT :<<<“

this also means that whenever otto says or does something Particularly Questionable, all his friends are still kinda blindsided by it because otherwise otto seems Mostly Fine in comparison to whatever the hell everyone else has going on. hes just a wet pathetic cat of a guy ahah. theres nothing more going on with h—

“if everyone in vollachia dies but rem and natsuki-san live, then we’ve won. if everyone in vollachia lives but rem and natsuki-san die, then we’ve lost.”

um otto can you repeat that. what the fuck did you just say.

otto looks Mostly Normal, Just Stressed Out or Somewhat Chilling the vast majority of the time, and then he whacks you over the head with a steel chair. like can you imagine being garfiel and learning that this pathetic rag of a man is actually pretty brave when it counts. youre like “oh cool lol we kinda beat each others asses and i was Annoyed but now that thats all over i got some newfound respect for you!!” and then you read through his diary and hes got a suicide note in there, which is like. okay fine whatever hes kind of a clown just like my New Captain lol but hes dedicated to his friends, ill give him that. and then a year later you find your now brother figure (whos also lowkey highkey an alcoholic) with a broken hand after punching a wall because he couldnt do his Lets Abandon 50 Million People Plan and youre just sitting there going

and okay dont get me wrong—subaru is Batshit Crazy. in Multiple Incomprehensible Ways. if the emilia camp (or Anyone. At All.) knew about all the shit hes done and been through with rbd, subaru would INSTANTLY be skyrocketing up the Most Threatening People list. but at the same time subarus less threatening than otto in the sense that subarus Always going to want to do good. hes Always going to want to save everyone. hes Extremely forgiving, on top of that. he goes along picking up friends everywhere he goes in his own Incomprehensible Unhinged Way and hes fond of All of them.

otto? yeah his opinion of you could shift on a dime and you could end up in his personal shit list unless youre one of the *checks list* *clears throat* maybe like ten people he cares about. and even if youre on the I Care About You! :) list, he could still get pissed enough at you to, i dont know, punch a wall over you? and spiral into obsession? and even if hes not upset at you hes still gonna mansplain manipulate malewife his way to his goals <33

and yeah of course subaru is also Mansplain Manipulate and Gaslight Gatekeep but at least he has way more good intentions AND his attitude about it is gonna be like "sorry :<<< i just gotta do this for your sake :<<<<<< :((( haha dont worry about it". subaru would never ever want to do anything big to hurt his loved ones (except for rbd). while otto doesnt even bat an eye. everyone can be manipulated if he has to. he goes down his list of Things I Need To Do and goes "yeah that had to be done. oh well. anyway i got more shit to do (like maybe kill a toddler lol)"

also lets talk about roswaal's perspective really quick. post-arc 4 hes like "well subaru-kun is always gonna want to save everyone and hes doing a pretty good job of things in general so whatever lol. i can still keep him in check by killing everyone if even one of his friends dies :)". so its like. YEAH subarus an Unhinged Wildcard. roswaal knows that. but right now subaru is more predictable and also again, roswaal knows he can keep subaru in check by making subaru have to reset if roswaal really needs to.

but otto? yeah ottos second in line for being an Unhinged Wildcard. but whats even worse is that otto is Basically Subaru but More Calculating and with a moral backbone thats Near Nonexistent. roswaal was genuinely concerned for otto in arc 8 for once and there was still Literally No Stopping Otto from being a stubborn little shit whos hell bent on all the maladjusted insane mentalities hes got floating around in his head, half of which he doesnt even say out loud, and all of which he thinks is Completely Right and that theres Nothing Wrong with what hes doing.

and also otto being underestimated and Not In The Tome was a big help as to how subaru got the win over roswaal in arc 4 👍and then otto Continues to try keeping an eye on roswaal after arc 4, to the point of getting roswaal's tome and actively trying to investigate roswaal's actions, so roswaal is Very Aware that otto is. a bit of a threat. roswaal of course is smarter and more powerful than otto though, but that still doesnt change the fact that otto is still capable of being a threat if roswaal doesnt Also kind of keep an eye on otto back. because roswaal kind of lost to otto already in arc 4!!

but okay, on top of all of this, no one knows the full extent of whats going on with otto, not even roswaal (though he has his Suspicions), and most definitely not subaru yet (whos Still a bit of an otto apologist anyway), and otto is already a bit menacing even without knowing All of that. and the rest of the emilia camp are already a bit more lenient with roswaal (as hes seemingly chilled out after arc 4 + they all need him still). that, and you can easily Expect roswaal post-arc 4 to be suspicious and Probably up to something. you wont know what it is, but you wont Exactly be surprised when it happens.

and also roswaal isnt publicly batshit crazy like otto is. otto of course isnt as Openly Weird as subaru, but otto is still Openly Unhinged and Pathetic. just look at him declaring julius and anastasia, HIS CAMP'S ALLIES, as enemies right to their faces alsdfjlsdjfl.

and with subaru, there is Zero doubt in the emilia camp's minds that subaru wants the best for them and everyone around them.

otto though? yeah he also wants whats best for the camp. he Cares about them, he really does. but hes so obviously Questionable by the time you get to arc 8 to the point where the entire rest of the camp starts eyeing him like this:

theres also the fact that ottos dp allows him to have eyes and ears Everywhere so long as he doesnt overuse it. that paired with his Intelligence, Stubbornness, and Lack of Morals or self-awareness/sometimes guilt/regret over his actions is dangerous. theres a reason why gluttony if subaru decided to flood The Entire Surrounding Area Around Otto. the flood took away the potential army otto couldve made out of the animals and allies otto had in the city, and once you do that, whats otto going to do against someone like shaula? all of ottos power regarding his People Skills and Animal DP was stripped away.

but if that Isnt stripped away... well honestly otto can do whatever the hell he wants the moment he figures out a solid plan to try and get what he wants. his biggest ability at the core of what makes him dangerous is his ability to quite Literally be in the background. so long as hes underestimated, so long as he still has secrets, no ones gonna know the full extent of his bullshit!! you cant stop him if you dont even realize what hes going to do, and hes Good at doing that!!

and if gluttonybaru hadnt taken out otto, subaru would be skyrocketing right to the top of ottos shit list after subaru literally just killed All of ottos (and previously subarus.) loved ones. otto wouldnt stop until he figured out how to destroy subaru. its to the point where im pretty sure if otto had to choose between destroying half the world vs kill gluttonybaru once and for all, otto would certainly choose one of those options in a Heartbeat.

anyway. if youre an emilia camp member, and you see the dude whos in charge of the Vast Majority of the factions political affairs, the guy who you Know is very intelligent and competent and determined when it counts, say shit like "if everyone dies in this entire country i wouldnt even give a single flying fuck as long as our friends get back safe and sound :) it would be such a loss if the entire country lived but our friends didnt :<<<" OF COURSE I WOULD BE LIKE YEAH THAT GUY IS THE MOST DANGEROUS ONE HERE. HE HAS THE SKILLS AND THE MOTIVATION TO BACK UP THAT STATEMENT AND I WONT EVEN KNOW WHEN ITD HAPPEN. he also has the Mental Instability to back that up too, given the amount of times he spends drinking and Raging and Being Terribly Anxious over Every Little Thing.

youll be sweating buckets being wary of otto while ottos casually standing there with his wet cat looks and a knife in your back.

and otto has, for the most part, some of the most normal trauma compared to a bunch of people in this cast (not to discount ottos trauma and pain or anything but its true lajdsfls sorry otto. but also im not sorry because arc 5 was partially on you T^T). he doesnt have rbd, he doesnt have some weird family drama bullshit going on like the astreas or emilias family or the segmunts, he hasnt been erased by gluttony, etc etc. but hes still like this. if you put him in subarus position and gave him rbd, he would get even worse than he already is.

yeah so anyway thats my quick rambley psa about why i think it makes sense that the emilia camp's voted otto as the most threatening one there 👍

but the fact that we (the audience) (or at least some of us!!) keep questioning why the hell the emilia camp thinks otto is the biggest threat there is means that otto's funny silly guy image is. Kind of Working??? just a little bit.

because. granted. of course i think subaru is easily the most threatening person there with both His Flavor of Insanity and rbd. subaru is an eldritch horror in every single way. but at the same time - hes an eldritch horror who thinks friendship is the best magic of all T^TT !!! he FORGIVES PEOPLE WHO'VE KILLED AND TORTURED HIM. hes not threatening in this sense - the fact that hes kind of just way too nice in this sense!!! granted yes, he IS abusing rbd and Terrifying and Threatening in a multitude of ways, but i'd rather take my chances with mainbaru over main otto right now HAH T^TT at least subaru will apologize and start bawling his eyes out if he stabs some random innocent civilian and stranger in the gut for Some Necessary Reason!! otto would feel a bit bad and then completely Eradicate that feeling of guilt with "i had to do it. it was them or me so no regrets <3".

because otto..................... yeah otto is the Worlds Most Pathetic Yandere to his whole camp.

[moonstruckme]

Hey lovely! I saw you wanted some doctor rem requests, so I was wondering if you could possibly write something where the Remus wakes up in the middle of the night because the reader has a fever and is burning up right next to her, and he gets up and takes care of her, puts her in a cool bath to cool down and then reads to her to get her to sleep. Just a bunch of fluff haha 💕

Thank you for requesting my love !

cw: non-sexual nudity

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 834 words

It’s not uncommon for Remus to get too warm in the middle of the night. He’s always careful to flip just his part of the covers off, sticking an arm and a leg out without exposing you to the cool air. It is unusual for the heat not to be coming off of his own body.

Remus rolls over, feeling for you without opening his eyes. The temperature under the covers increases before he’s even touching you, emanating from your skin and heating the space around you. He opens his eyes. 

You’re curled up tight, one hand trapped underneath your cheek, blankets pulled up to your chin like you’re chilled instead of burning. Your brow is puckered as though you’re concentrating hard on something in your unconscious, and you don’t rouse when the bed creaks as Remus gets up. 

He plugs the drain in the tub and turns on the tap, feeling for the right temperature before leaving it to fill.

“Sweetheart.” It’s one part exhaustion and two parts love, sleep still clinging to the edges of his voice. You don’t stir in the slightest when Remus touches your shoulder, worrying in itself. 

It takes a few gentle shakes to do it, and you’re none too happy to be woken. Remus can’t help his small smile at your sleepy frown. 

“Your fever’s gotten worse,” he tells you, stroking the baby hairs at your temple. “I’m starting you a bath, okay?” 

You close your eyes, reluctant. “Can it wait ‘til morning?” 

Remus slips a hand beneath your shoulders and brushes his lips under your eye. “Afraid not, lovely girl. Do you need help getting up?” 

He has to smother a grin when you react just as he predicted, grumbling and crawling out of bed. Still, you don’t reject the arm he wraps around your waist to guide you into the bathroom. Your skin is clammy under his hand, and you lean into his side like you weigh more than you did yesterday. 

“Is your head still bothering you?” he asks while you strip out of your pajamas. 

“A little,” you say, your words soft and stuck together by drowsiness. “Not as bad as yesterday. What time s’it?” 

“It’s early yet.” Remus wraps his arms around your shoulders, kissing your nape as he encourages you closer to the tub. “We’ll go back to bed as soon as we get you cooled down. You can sleep in as late as you want.” 

“You’ll make me think I’m dreaming,” you tease. But your smile vanishes as soon as you set a toe into the bathwater. “Rem, it’s cold.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” He smiles, rueful, when you look betrayed. “Like I said, we’ve got to get your temperature down. Your body will adjust.” 

“You’re supposed to be nice to me when I’m sick,” you mutter, but take the hand he offers you to step into the tub. 

A couple of little shivers tremble through you. Remus stays, stroking the lines of your palm, until your taut muscles start to relax and you let your body unspool in the cool water. Then he goes to get you fever reducers. 

He’s not gone long, but you look as though you’ve nearly fallen asleep again in his absence. You’re curled loosely on your side, one cheek resting on the porcelain lip of the tub with your hands folded under it. The arcs of your shoulders are shiny wet, and your lashes droop as if drawn towards their other halves by magnets. 

When Remus sits on the bathmat, you raise your eyes up to his lazily. His reaction is predictable: fondness that sticks in the back of his throat and nestles into the space behind his sternum. 

“Better now?” he asks, and his voice is soft for reasons he doesn’t entirely understand. It’s an instinct, as if to protect some precious part of you that might still be slumbering. 

You hum. “A little.” 

He holds up the water and tablets. “Think you can sit up to take these?” 

Those pretty eyes roll skyward at the question, and you do, finishing the water without him needing to ask and murmuring a thanks when you’re done. Remus sets the empty cup on the floor. He dips a hand into the bathwater, cupping some and spilling it down your back. Not strictly necessary, perhaps, but it’s nice for him and you don’t seem to mind. Your eyes slip closed again. Remus follows the path of the water with his hand, coasting between your shoulder blades and down the curvature of your spine. Your skin is still warm to the touch, but he thinks there’s been some improvement. 

“Don’t fall asleep here,” he murmurs. Your eyes peel open again. “I’m just giving it a few minutes before I check your fever, and then we can go back to bed.” 

“I’m gonna sleep all tomorrow,” you sigh. 

He smiles. “If that’s what you want.” 

You hum satisfiedly. “Will you sleep in with me? Please?” 

Remus huffs a laugh. “Sure, sweetheart. Twist my arm.” 

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Never Let Me Go (pt.1)

kai parker x reader | heretic!kai | part 1/3

summary: you're getting used to the coldness in your apartment. the chill that lingers in the air, the absence of his presence. for four months you wait for him, willing for the past and cursing those who've altered your future; wishing for the way things used to be, and hoping they wouldn't be lost beyond repair. but the next time you see him, out on your doorstep, you realize you can't just pick up the pieces, you have to restart the whole puzzle.

tags: post s06e22, heartache, emotional hurt / mild comfort, angst, arguing

word count: 2k

a/n: it's been one of the worst weeks of my life, so here's a little angst. i hope to have more out soon, and aside from the other two parts of this (well, one, bc the third part is smutty), some softer things!

You sigh deeply as you climb into bed, alone, for the billionth time. Your bed used to be warm, full, and safe, and now it’s just cold. For a while, you couldn’t even stand the feeling and had to sleep on the couch, but then one month turned into four, and you had to go back to the bed at some point. 

For four months, your boyfriend was trapped in a prison world by one of your best friends. When he finally got out, he brought chaos along with him in the form of one curse and a hundred deaths. One of those, being his own. Luckily, he had drunk the blood of a vampire, which brought him back, but not quite as the same boy he used to be. 

The first night after his transformation, he returned to bed with you. By morning, he was gone. When asked what happened, he couldn’t really say. His emotions, already confusing, were even more out of place, and he couldn’t predict even his own usually sporadic actions. A taste for blood and a ringing in his ear kept him up all night, and the sight of you made him afraid. If he’d hurt you, he would never forgive himself. 

So, for the last three weeks, your bed has been empty just as it had when he was gone. Frankly, you have no idea where Kai sleeps, or if he even does. The rest of the heretics have taken to an old abandoned house on the town’s border, but you doubt he’s there. Worry keeps you awake most nights, and the only reason you fall asleep is out of pure exhaustion. You love him, but lately you feel like he loves you less. 

Tonight’s like any other in your new routine. Watch an episode and drink down a glass of wine. Or bourbon. Or even vodka, on worse days. Curl yourself into a ball when you finally do go up to bed. Cuddle into the stuffed bat that Caroline gifted you after she found out what happened after the 1903 visit. She knew it hurt you, what Bonnie did. Even if it was “for the better”, she knew it broke your heart. 

You kiss the head of the little animal, then heave a heavy sigh. Sleep could overtake you in five minutes or five hours, depending on what your body demands. After three minutes, you start counting sheep, calling on the help of more animals to guide you to REM. 

Forty-six sheep have jumped the fence when there’s suddenly a bold knock at your door. You scramble in anxiety, but then freeze in an attempt to hear better. 

Maybe you imagined it. Maybe you had finally fallen asleep. 

But then there’s another knock. 

It’s probably Damon, you think. He’s disturbed you several times in the middle of the night. He probably lost a hold of his mother and is wondering if you’ve seen her. Or it’s Caroline, seeking advice whilst forgetting the time on the clock. Or maybe it’s your upstairs neighbor, angry about you taking his usual parking spot, since he took yours the day before. 

Your head runs rampant with possibilities as you urge yourself to answer the door. Your blanket is still wrapped around your body, though you leave your bat in bed.

When you open the door, you’re stunned to see none other than Kai Parker standing there, smiling, despite pain clouding in his eyes. 

“Kai?” You ask, voice quieter than you intended.

“Hi.”

“What are you doing here? It’s late.”

It’s weird to see him. Honestly, you had to run back your memory and try to think if your last conversation ended in a break-up. It hadn’t. 

“Can I come in?”

He’s been invited in; he was on the first night. Still, he asks now.

“Okay.”

You shut the door as he enters. Then, pulling the blanket closer to you, you nod to the couch. He follows, but you sit on separate ends.

“You look warm,” he says. 

You bite back a reply to say you feel the opposite. In fact, your whole apartment feels cold without him. “What brings you here?” You repeat instead. 

“I miss you.” He shrugs off his boots, but leaves the jacket on. “And I’m sorry.”

You furrow your eyebrows and he immediately sighs.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. The only time we’ve talked in weeks is at the grill, and even then, I’ve been distant.”

“Mhm. So why now? What changed?”

“I promised you I’d be the best boyfriend I could be when we started dating, and I know for a fact that I haven’t been. And things have been difficult lately, y’know, since 1903, and the wedding, and the… everything. There’s been a lot of change. A lot of adjustments.” He’s stalling and you both know it. 

“Make your point, Parker,” you say coldly.

“I was sitting at the grill, just now, watching this couple. They were both drunk off their asses and being all handsy, and the bartender kicked them out for it, and everyone in that bar knows what they’re doing right now. But on their way out, they had to pass me, and heard them both tell the other they loved them, and it made me think of you. The first time you told me you loved me. The first time I said it back, and the first time I recognized I felt it, even if I didn’t understand it. Made me think of you, and our relationship, and what I’ve seemingly abandoned, but I promise, I never wanted this to become of us.” Tears well in his eyes as he rambles. You’ve never seen him cry. “Everything I said, that night after I left, was true. I’m so scared to hurt you that I don’t even want to put you in a position where I could. And on top of that… don’t you hate me?! I ruined your life, Y/N. I ruined your best friends’ lives, I killed my whole family. Why don’t you fucking hate me?!”

“Do you want me to hate you?”

“No! I love you, and you’re the only person who has ever loved me, but I’m a fucking horrible person.”

“Everyone in this town is fucking horrible, have you seen it? People, in general, are flawed and vicious, and yet most people have at least a few to whom they stick, and love, and are loved back.”

“You’re not like that.”

“But I still have flaws.”

“Your only flaw is loving me.”

“Kai-”

“Don’t-”

“Don’t fucking interrupt me,” you snap, getting upset. “If I want to fucking love you, I will. I don’t see it as a flaw, no matter what you’ve done. I’m so pissed off at you right now, how you come here and act like loving you is a chore, when you’ve been the absent one. I haven’t slept well in five fucking months because I’ve been worried about you. I don’t care what fears you have about hurting me. If you feel that way, then let us work through it. I’d rather have at least been given the chance to help you than for you to just block me out. I do love you, and while I have to convince myself every day that you still love me, it doesn’t make me love you less. I fucking wish I could. If I could, I’d turn off my fucking humanity and not give a shit, but I can’t do that, so I sit in this apartment and rot.”

He opens his mouth, but then stops and bites his tongue. Smart. 

“I can’t take this anymore, emotionally.” You finally say. “I need you here or I need you out.”

To avoid his gaze any longer, you stand up and head to the kitchen. He watches you turn on the Keurig and retrieve a cup, but doesn’t say anything. You turn your back for two seconds to grab the creamer from the fridge, and when you turn around again, he’s there, pulling sugar from your cupboard. You jump, not used to seeing him move so fast, and for a moment, forgetting heretics could. He swallows hard, seemingly taking it as a sign you’re afraid of him. 

“Give me that,” he gestures to the carton in your hand. His tone is gentle, there’s nothing demanding about it. 

For some reason, you do. You stand there, watching, as he crafts your cup of coffee in the way he always would. He has a way in the kitchen that you’d never understand. 

He snaps his fingers, and immediately you bring him the cinnamon from your spice rack. It’s muscle memory, part of your routine. 

He then puts the cup under the stream of hot coffee as the Keurig works its own magic. Eye contact is avoided at all costs. He stares down at your marble cabinet. Your eyes are trained on his arm. 

When the coffee is done pouring, he sets it in front of you to cool. For a minute, you won’t touch it. For a minute, he can explain. 

“I still love you. And in an attempt to not hurt you, I hurt you worse than I could’ve imagined. It’s not an excuse, but 1903 did something to me. I shut down, emotionally, I think. It felt hopeless, any chance of escaping, or of seeing you again. My only company were the heretics that had been there for a century and had no idea, whatsoever, of how to escape.” He’s running out of time. You watch the steam cool off the top of your cup.

“I told them about you, and how much I loved you… because I was feeding them. I woke them all up and let them drink from me. Those scars all healed when I turned, but my arms and neck were littered with bites. God, I’m glad you didn’t see it. But I was so bored, and lonely, and wanted to know if they had any idea of how to get out. Again, they didn’t. But then, one day that we were plotting an escape, I remembered how we got Bonnie out, and realized it would be applicable to that time, considering Quetsi-what died in the days of the Greeks.”

You almost chuckle at that.

“But when I got out, I was so hellbent on revenge, that I did what I did, and I know I did everything wrong, and I should’ve just come to you, but my brain isn't… wired that way.” He hesitates to say that detail. At the end of the day, he’s still a sociopath. If revenge is on his mind, it’s the only thing on his mind. 

“And so I’m sorry about all of it. I swore I would protect you, and that included protecting you emotionally, and I’ve failed at that. I don’t want out, I want to be here, if you’ll have me back.”

You take a sip of the coffee, now cool. The flavors are perfect and warm your cold soul up just the way you’ve needed it for months. 

“I’d rather have you with me than anywhere else,” you admit.

“Every day without you has been a living hell.”

“Where have you been sleeping?”

“Sometimes with the heretics. Sometimes in the old Lockwood cellar, or just the woods. A couple times…” he stops himself.

“A couple times?”

“Outside your apartment. In the bushes. Where I could hear your heartbeat, but could keep a safe distance.”

“Kai…”

“I really hope you watched a lot of sad movies, and that they were the reason for your tears.”

You bite your lip. You both know you didn’t. 

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry.” In half a second, he’s in front of you, rubbing his thumb along your chin. 

You still don’t look at him. “Please don’t leave me again.”

“I won’t. I swear-” he stops. He swore to you last time. “I promise I won’t. I won’t leave you, ever.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Tears flood your eyes once more as you wrap your arms around his body. You bury your face in his chest, and he pulls you close. Hands find their way to your hair, massaging your head comfortingly. With time, you find your way back to the couch, coffee in hand. But despite the strength of the coffee, you’re asleep in no time. You’re finally back in the warmth and safety of his arms.