#this damn foot is keeping me from my true calling | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

buckysunshine · 7 months ago

Text

i got my eye on you – house of the dragon

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut (18+) ! Targcest/Targaryen Incest (Uncle/Niece), Enemies to Lovers, Denial of feelings, explosion of feelings, vaginal fingering.

Synopsis: Sixteen hours and six days were all it took for you to have everything Aemond had wanted. A dragon, a mother's unconditional love, a brother that actually cares and gives a shit. Sixteen hours and six days were all it took to hate you.

At the return of the blacks, the princess is transformed, and the hate swirling in Aemond’s gut is replaced with something different, something new.

Word Count: 2.6K

Sixteen hours. That was how long Rhaenyra labored to bring you into this world. With blood came the heir's only daughter, a spitting image of her mother yet contrasted by the colors of the father. A princess. Another bastard.

Six days. That's how long you stayed in the babe's cradle until the hatching of your dragon egg. Arrax.

Sixteen hours and six days were all it took for you to have everything Aemond had wanted. A dragon, a mother's unconditional love, a brother that actually cares and gives a shit.

Sixteen hours and six days were all it took to hate you.

Living in a den of vipers taught you more than the books you were forced to read. You were a princess, the daughter of the realm's heir, yet they treat you as the scum of a mare's back disguised in petty smiles and hidden whispers.

Early on, you learned you only had your family to depend on. Not your uncles. They always liked to inflict the most pain. Helaena was always sweet, but the queen made sure to isolate her from you and your family.

But your greatest tormentor came in the form of purple eyes and silver hair. Aemond Targaryen.

He was always there to plague you no matter how nice you've been or how little you were. Eyes distant and cold, and on you at all times. You could never escape it; thus, it only made sense that you were the one to take his eye on that fateful night. You – the object of his ire, the thief who stole his eye. You tell yourself it was to protect your brother, but deep down, it was also to break free of his punishing stares.

Aemond Targaryen was not the only person who changed from that moment. The day you took his eye was the day you gained your own courage.

"Enjoy it, uncle. The next time you see me, my mother will wear the crown, and your family will be set aside to return to your little green towers." You speak brazenly atop Arrax at the hour of your departure to Dragonstone. He may have Vhagar, but the true power belongs to the heir of the Iron Throne.

Your last words to the one-eyed second son rang in his ears for the rest of his days, fueling the bitter craving for revenge in his heart.

"You'll cut yourself." The rogue prince's warning makes you jump away from the valyrian steel. "Careful."

You've sneaked a glance at dark sister. The prince consort was rarely without it, so the one chance you see it abandoned, you gather up the courage to hold it even for a second. It felt like the blade was calling to you; surely, it was the voices of the lives taken by the age-old steel.

Daemon takes the steel in his hand, wielding it easily. You watch his every move, utterly fascinated. Daemon sees the spark of ambition in your eyes. It's the same spark that flamed within him in his early years.

"Ever used a blade?"

"Only one time when I took an eye."

Daemon grinned, passing the steel to you. He could work with that. "Not a bad start.”

Dark Sister felt heavy in your hands, but it was also oddly familiar. It felt right to hold it. You were a Targaryen, after all, and coupled with the strong genes of your father, it was no trouble to handle a sword. You were a quick learner, and Daemon took delight in training you, gender norms be damned.

This would have never happened in the Red Keep. The only place for you there were the quilting room and the birthing bed. Ser Criston Cole would have never allowed you to step foot in his training grounds, and you would have never had the courage to try.

Ever since you left for Dragonstone, your courage grew day by day, and with Daemon at your side, it flamed anew.

But all that courage faltered at the news of Vaemond Velaryon's challenge to Lucery's inheritance to Driftmark.

Vaemond did not scare you, but the thought of returning to King's Landing and meeting a purple eye did.

Aemond Targaryen had never waited for a day like this.

The blacks’ return shall be met with the green's first strike. His nephew is possibly disinherited; most importantly, he gets to prove you wrong. He waits to see you again so he could inject the fear that always made you shrink in his gaze. The years had made him hard, brutish. He and Vhagar are alike in more ways than the valyrian blood that flows in them.

Aemond's eye finds you immediately. Surrounded by your family, you seemed small but grown, more mature. Your dress is filled better by newly developed curves. Your locks remained ever dark, and it gives Aemond a reminiscence of a dark-haired woman plaguing his dreams as of late. Ever since he heard the news of your return, his dreams have been nothing but hazy images of dark hair that makes him wake with a hard cock.

He ignores it.

Your families don't have time to reunite as the unforgiving court awaits. You don't make the effort to find your uncles either, though you did send a warm smile to your aunt. You ignore them, and it makes Aemond itch. He longs to see the fire in your eyes so he could squash and spit on it.

Vaemond Velaryon speaks, and he loses his head.

Aemond is no stranger to bloodshed, relishes in it even. An unexpected similarity between you.

It does not miss him when you don't flinch at the brutal slash, only moving to cover your younger brother, Joffrey. You watch the blade slash clean through flesh with a fervid gaze, and it gives Aemond surprise, his interest piqued.

"Seems like you're wrong, princess."

You were a hard one to track alone. Always surrounded by your pesky brothers, Aemond awaited the chance to corner you. He finds it fitting to find you in the dragon pit. You endured the tense family dinner, playing oblivious to the one purple eye peering over you, and once the feasting had ended, you were gone. Not in your chambers or even the grounds of the Red Keep. You escaped to the skies, flying Arrax till late at night. You needed the reprieve, and you wished you were back there again the moment you landed with Aemond already waiting for your alighting.

"Uncle." You greeted him, shedding your riding gloves off. He is taller now, more slender, and his face matured with the scar you left him with. Shame, he could have been handsome.

You walk, and Aemond is at your tail. He starts his taunting.

"We meet, and yet no crown on your mother's head, and our family's roots are still deep within these courts."

"I am grateful for our king's long life." You say, eyes blank, straight ahead. You're being polite. Your mother's words of peace ring in your ears, and it takes all your effort to maintain niceties. Aemond sees right through it.

"There is only us. You can speak plainly." He clasps his arms behind his back, unbothered. "The king is dying and should have died long ago."

"Must you be so cruel?”

"I only speak the truth." He is close behind, leaning down to mutter in your ear. "Last time I recall, it is not a crime to do so. Well, should not be treated as such anyway." He says slyly, laying down his bait for you to take.

"I was a kid, Aemond. Must you torment me all my life?" You bite, stopping in your tracks and facing him completely with fire in your eyes. The years of guilt and vexing rifts at your resolve. The man always knew how to push your buttons.

Ah, there she is. Aemond flashes a condescending smile just for a second before slipping back into his usual glare. "You know what I want. Justice."

"Then so be it." You pull out your sword, the same one Daemon gifted you years ago. It was smaller than the standard fighting swords, for it was only supposed to be used in training, but you don't care. A sword is a sword. You've done worse with smaller ones.

"Here's your justice. Try to take out my eye. I'll allow your efforts. Take my eye and be done with all these bother.”

Aemond stares at you delightfully surprised before drawing his own sword out. You dare? He answers. The years in Dragonstone changed you, no more the little girl he could torment and plague back in the Red Keep. He is made clear of it. The girl standing before him is a dragon, a warrior, a Targaryen. A predator to be conquered.

"Today is a good day for justice."

He swings, and steels meet.

It was a dance between two dragons, and the sound of swords clashing against each other played the music to every spin and sway. It was a dance, and Aemond hated how you were leading.

Honed by the rogue prince, you've learned how to put up a good fight and sniff out an opponent's weak points. You detect Aemond's obvious weakness – his blind side. You focus your attacks on his left side, taking advantage of his every crux. He underestimated you, your hits stronger than he expected. He stumbles at your strike, aim focused on his left shoulder.

But Aemond is no fool on the battlefield. He also paid his dues in his training with Ser Criston Cole. The man might be vile, but there is no denying the knight is the most skillful swordsman alive in King's Landing. Aemond's skills are beaten into him in the most literal sense, the years of cuts and bruises shaping him into the warrior he is now. It was no match to your little lessons, no matter how fast of a learner you might be. Aemond is still stronger, faster.

And with a swing to your leg and a precise hit to your wrist, your blade flies away from you. Unarmed, the older boy takes the chance to seize you.

You take the hit head on, grunting at the weight of him knocking you down.

Pinned on the ground, bladeless and pregnable, Aemond's steel rests snug against your neck. The music has stopped. You've lost.

"Beg." Steel presses further into skin. "Beg for mercy."

"No." you spat, ever so stubbornly. A dragon does not beg.

Aemond's nostrils flare at your defiance, a thousand emotions brewing in his chest. He has wanted this for so long, yet he finds himself stalling for time.

Despite your loss, you weren't giving up. Aemond always hated how stubborn you could be, so careless, yet protected and loved even as a bastard. Aemond could do everything right, yet his father would not even spare him a glance unless he found himself in some sort of trouble, and Alicent shared the family's burden with him, depriving him of the innocence of childhood. But you had your dragon the day you were born, showered with love and affection.

Spoiled. Ungrateful.

In his resentment, he cuts skin, drawing blood. "Don't think I won't do it. You know I would."

You refuse to wince from the pain, eyes locked in and determined. "I fought, and I lost. I'm true to my word. Take my eye now. Take your prize." You turn your head, presenting him the left side of your face. "Is that not what you want, uncle? Or do you plan to bitch and whine to me for the rest of your days?"

"I want… nothing!"

Throwing his blade away, you're finally given a chance to breathe. Still on top, he looks down on you. Aemond has you at the bottom of his feet, to do what he wants, to take what he is robbed of, yet he finds himself at pause. He wanted an eye, and now he yearns for more.

As he watched your face, cheeks turning delightfully pink, and chest heaving, the strangest thing happened. Aemond felt something squeeze suspiciously in his chest at the thought of you exposed and vulnerable to him.

He realized he wanted you. He really, really wanted you.

Only then did the feeling of hatred in his gut turn to something different. It swirled anew — to desire.

Aemond Targaryen desires for the niece under him.

Oh.

With this revelation, he starts seeing the image in his dreams clearly. His conscience is plagued by the woman of dark hair and milky skin he's been dreaming of, the cause of his seed spilling on his thighs in the morning. It was you.

With the veil of denial finally lifted, he leans down and captures your mouth, pouring every bit of frustration and newly found desire into your kiss. Your hands raise to push him off, but he pins them down easily. Warm lips lock onto yours, forcing your mouth to yield to his demand and, eventually, your own visceral need. Unrelenting, your defiance quickly faded, and your tongue started meeting his as well. Heat dances in your chest and straight down the apex of your thighs.

You've been kissed before, kissed sweetly, softly, but never like this. This was different; this was hungry, consuming, punishing. Aemond's kiss triggers a primal craving in your flesh; it refuses your mind's reason entirely.

Shifting above you, Aemond parts your legs, planting himself between your thighs. You feel the hard ridge of him pressing against your clothed core, and you undoubtedly grind against it.

His body – Gods. It is evil how it was pressed against yours, the heat of it seeping through your clothing, searing your very soul.

He made you shiver. He made you melt.

Aemond gropes your breast, dipping down to nip at the neck he just pressed a blade against moments ago. "I want you."

Aemond always told the truth, an ideology planted in his head by his devoted mother, but it is only now he felt the peace a person should feel when telling the truth.

Aemond’s tongue traces a map of pleasure on your skin, fueling a need you never knew. He chants your name, groaning at every repeat. His lips move frantically along your face until they find your mouth again. “I need you.” He pressed his hips hotly against yours. “Do you feel how I need you?”

Your fingers tangle in his silver hair, making it undone from its restraints; you grip it, urging for more.

"What is it? Take what you want." He yearns to hear your voice, hear you beg for him.

He pulls away, and you whine at the loss. "Use your words, princess. Tell me what you want.”

You're faced with Aemond's face atop of yours, and unthinking, you take it in your hands. He leans in, hanging on to your next words.

Your lips hover over each other, and with a whisper, you say, "No."

Aemond's face breaks into a grin, a deep chuckle escaping him. Your heart stutters at the image of a genuine smile on the prince's face. It was a rare thing, and you don't know what to do with it.

Distracted, his fingers find your thighs, squeezing them hard before delving further. You gasp when he presses at the burning between your legs.

"Now is not the time for your stubbornness, sweet niece."

Aemond quickly breaks through the layers of cloth separating him from your sensitive skin. It was embarrassing how easily he found the wetness waiting for him. But Aemond relishes at the feel of them, the thought of your excitement feeding his desire. His fingers play at your folds, sliding easily. He circles at your center, noticing how your moans become louder when he touches you there. He watches your every expression, determined to pluck your pleasure from you. You looked too pretty with your lips red and puffy, but your unscarred skin calls to be dirtied by him.

He leans down to nip at the skin of your jaw, then to your neck once more. He hopes to leave a mark. "Would you do it? Bed your uncle like your mother did.”

The sting of his tongue against the wound he placed on you wakes you from your haze. Your mother. The lust is quickly replaced by guilt and shame, and you suddenly feel suffocated. Shoving away, you slap him off you. He stumbles, shocked and disoriented.

Gathering your skirts, you stand, now looking down at him. Your throat dries, but you speak firmly. "You've had your chance to take your justice. Now let us speak of it no more.”

And you were gone, fleeing without as much as a second glance behind, and Aemond is left alone. The sting on his face and the hardness of his cock are the only reminders of your dance.

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x reader #aemond smut

2K notes · View notes

lvlyghost · 2 years ago

Text

Cold Nights

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary: Reader doesn't show up for morning training. Ghost doesn't know what to think.

Word Count: 794

Tw: fluff, angst, mentions of being sick, soldiers being scared of simon lol, ooc simon probably, he calls reader kid, i think that's it🤭

A/N: I'm sick and this came to my mind, I just want simon to take care of me okay???🥹🤧 this is super bad as usual. still hope you like it. pls remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome ✨💖

Masterlist✨

Ghost doesn't see her at the cafeteria, nor the training room. He's disgruntled. His eyes keep drifting apart from the soldiers in front of him, waiting for the next round of endless push ups he's gonna make them go through.

Why isn't she here?

His body feels restless, pacing back and forth.

Soap doesn't say anything, just shifts his weight from one foot to another.

"Johnny," he calls him. "You're in charge."

"Lt.?" He quirks a brow, not understanding. That's so unlike him.

"Got things to do."

He storms out of the room, the walls rattle when he closes the doors.

It's a cold day. Just like the day before.

Days used to mean nothing to him.

Time.

Until she came along. Three years ago.

That woman... he sighs.

Was it something he said? Didn't they talk about it last night?

Everything was fine.

Or so he thought.

"We shouldn't be out here, kid." He mutters. It's freezing, he can see her trembling even beneath her hoodie. Well it was actually his. The hoodie completely swallowing her small form.

"I know, I know!" She laughs. Her cheeks a beautiful shade of pink. "I just... it was too loud inside." That he can agree on. "Is it true?" She asks a few seconds later.

Simon stills. Choosing his next words carefully.

"What?"

"What Soap said." A heartbeat. "About us."

There's a silence that falls between them.

"Those were the words of a drunk man."

"Were they?" her smile is contagious. Damn her and her beautiful soul. "Would you come with me if I asked you to?"

He stares directly at her, trying to find any sign of doubt. He's always mesmerized by her gentle nature. That's something he never knew. Perhaps that's why he was so drawn to her. Longed to be wherever she was. Breathe the same air.

"I'd say that's highly inappropriate." He states. "And that you've had too many shots of whatever poor excuse of a whiskey Johnny made you drink."

"Price called it piss water." She shooks her head. "You're changing the subject!"

Simon chuckles. He really does.

"You've got such power over me no one else could ever have, kid."

And he's doomed.

He's trying so hard, going through the events of the night, trying to remember. What happened? Nothing out of line was said. She seemed content when they parted ways, right after he had kissed her good night outside her room. Simon saw the way her eyes lit up with a spark he never saw before. The longing stare. Remembers vividly how she had stopped him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt pulling him down for another heated kiss.

He walks down the corridor with long strides. Hands balled into fists. He shouldn't be this mad. But that was the effect she had in him.

He tries to cool down. Ghost was scared too. What if she had changed her mind and didn't want anything to do with him? He was messing up his head at the mere thought.

He finally makes it to the room, knocking twice before her soft voice tells him he can come in.

Inside the room, all the curtains were closed, not a single ray of light made it inside apart from the lamp casting shadows around. Furrowing his brows he closes the door behind him with a low click.

"Kid?" He calls her. Immediately rolling on her side she welcomes him, red eyes, stuffy nose and looking disheveled.

"Sorry I missed training." She apologizes. Changing to a sitting position and waits for him to sit next to her.

"What's wrong?" He demands with a soft voice. She's still wearing his hoodie from last night. Rubbing her eyes she gives Simon a tired smile.

"I'm just really sick Simon." She answers, he can hear her hoarse voice now.

"Bloody hell, love." His hand goes straight to her face, caressing her cheek. "Did you go to the infirmary?" Closing her eyes, she rest her head against his hand.

"Mhm. Got some painkillers prescribed. Still feel horrible."

"Good, it'll take some time for you to feel better. You need to rest, okay?". The look he gave her leaves no room for discussion.

"Wasn't planning on leaving my bed you know?" He smiles ever so slightly. "Would you stay with me?" When he doesn't answer right away she adds: "never mind you'll catch whatever this bug is and i don't ..."

"Sweetheart," he interrupts her rambling. "Scoot over."

She looks at him wide-eyed.

"You... you don't," she stutters.

"No, I don't mind at all. If there's anything you need just tell me, copy?" She nods, staring at his blue eyes. "Told you we shouldn't have been outside last night."

"Even if it meant catching a cold, I'm glad we did, Simon."

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod ghost #ghost x reader #call of duty ghost simon riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #john price #john price x reader #cod konig #cod mw22

5K notes · View notes

who-can-touch-my-boob · 3 months ago

Text

<- Sanemi simp posts masterlist

You’d heard rumours of the fearsome, violent and brute of a man called Sanemi Shinazugawa. The wind Hashira himself who’s said to be a force to be reckoned with and even made someone piss their pants.

The same man everyone in the Demon Slayer Corps avoided whenever possible because of his short temper and occasional death threats. The poor recruits barely able to walk or stay conscious after training with him, who felt the force of his wooden practise sword.

Well, that same man is right now looking at you with an incredulous expression, as if the request you asked of him is the most offensive, disgraceful and unheard thing ever spoken. Sanemi just stares at you, blinking furiously as he struggle to find his words (while he’s also wearing a pink apron, oven mittens and a tray of newly backed cupcakes fresh out of the oven).

“You want me to…what?!”

His cheeks flush pink, his eyes flickering around nervously and he carefully place the tray down on the kitchen counter, as if he’s buying himself time.

You can’t help but grin devilishly, already prepared for that reaction from him. Because despite what most people think or assume about Sanemi Shinazugawa…you were one of the few who’s blessed to witness his true self.

“I want you to smack my ass.”

You cross your arms over your chest, raising an amused eyebrow as you struggle to keep back the laugh threatening to break your matter-of-factly tone.

Sanemi’s whole face reddens further when you confirm what he thought you said but also didn’t want to believe. He shifts his weight from one foot to another, his gaze locked down at the floor. After a minute of silence, he glance up at you, his voice gentle and adorably sweet and uncertain:

“Now?”

Nodding in response to his stuttered question, you turn around, presenting him your rear end. Sanemi swallows hard, taking off his oven mittens methodically as he close the distance. Your ass is tempting and he could never resist touching it, but that’s it.

Not only does Sanemi believe it to be disrespectful to do such things, because he’s a firm believer in not objectifying people in that sense - not even his spouse. He also is afraid of his own strength, terrified to lose control or hurting those he love.

Yet here you are, your perky behind presented to him as you stand with a bend in your knees and Sanemi clutch the oven mittens for dear life.

“I swear, sometimes I don’t know why I bother putting up with you… but fine.”

He mutters under his breath in an exasperated tone and a tenderness which belies his words.

Finally he close the distance even more, you watch as he prepares his hand for the strike. You’re prepared for a sting since you know how incredibly strong he is and you’re already imagining the feeling of his big hand making contact with your cheeks.

“Ready when you are!” You hum playfully, shaking your tushy for him to let him know he has your consent despite this being your request.

Sanemi place the oven mittens on the counter, rubbing his hands together and you can’t help the excitement building inside you. He swings his hand and you bite down on your bottom lip and close your eyes in anticipation.

Pat.

No slap, no stinging and definitely no force behind his action. No. That asshole had just patted your butt gently and then turned away immediately to tend to the cupcakes.

Even with his back turned to you, the blush on his ears betrays him. You can’t decide if you’re annoyed at him or feeling an even stronger affection for this soft man who’s your partner in every sense possible.

You would never actually tell anyone about this side of him, his real side, but if you did no one would believe you anyway.

Not a damn soul will believe that the Sanemi Shinazugawa, Wind Hashira, most violent and feared Demon Slayer is too soft and gentle that he’s not able to even smack his partner’s ass properly at their request.

“Sorry, but even if you’re the one asking…it goes against my beliefs if I ever raise a hand on you. I hope you understand that my hands will never in any way inflict harm on you.”

Sanemi murmurs softly, glancing briefly over his shoulder at you before turning away again when you see the blush on his cheeks. However instead of teasing him or poking fun at him, your heart swells and a warmth spreads through you at his words.

You immediately close the distance, hugs him from behind and bury your face into his back, murmuring assuring words of love, affection and tenderness. Sanemi covers your hands around his waist with his own, giving them a gentle squeeze before he turns around to face you.

“Let’s eat these cupcakes and cuddle, ‘kay?”

He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips before pulling you closer for a kiss.

283 notes · View notes

hayakawalove · 4 months ago

Text

Untouchable

Summary: Satoru stays out late one night so you're forced to punish him.

A/N: I fixed this up a bit and decided to post it to this blog! CW: Smut, Mutual Masturbation, Sub!Gojo, Readers kind of bitchy, Dom/sub, Hand Jobs, Dirty Talk, Voyeurism, Come Eating, Choking Mention, Humiliation, Praise, Gender Neutral Reader, AFAB Reader W/C: 2,138

You hate him.

At least that’s what you told yourself every time he came home late. You knew it wasn’t true, not in the slightest. Every fiber of your being loved him, that’s why it hurt so bad every time he failed to show.

More often than not it was because he got caught up at work. “Being the world's strongest sorcerer keeps you busy” so he put. Everyone wanted a piece of Gojo Satoru, and you couldn’t say you blamed them. You wanted a piece too. He was your husband, but you felt like you were begging for crumbs of him all the same.

Tonight however, he was surprisingly free from work. That didn’t mean he wasn’t busy, though. He got invited to dinner with his friends from work; all of them were celebrating Nanami’s birthday. Satoru invited you to go as well but you didn’t feel like socializing. Truth be told, you wanted him to deny his invitation as well. You knew that was selfish.

“I’m home!” His voice bellows from the front door.

You lay in your shared bedroom, flicking through a book. It’s one you’ve read countless times; Satoru got it for you for your birthday last year. Sure, he may have teased you for it, saying something along the lines of “my little nerd”, but that didn’t matter.

The door clicks shut and you can practically hear him deflate. Most nights you ran up to greet him, but perhaps you were playing hard to get tonight. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Satoru calls out for you, his long limbs bringing him to the bedroom.

His body fills the doorway, his height being yet another one of his strong suits. How annoying. You really want to stay strong tonight to show your grumpiness. You fight every urge to jump up and pull him in.

“Oh, I didn’t think you were here. You didn’t come to the door.”

You arch a brow at him, looking over the top of your book. You weren’t even reading it. You hadn’t been for at least an hour.

“Am I some kind of dog?” You ask flatly.

“Last time I checked, no.” Satoru walks up to the edge of the bed. His lithe fingers grab one of your ankles, rubbing slow circles on your skin. His warmth instantly spreads over you. You want to melt into his touch and never look back.

“Sorry I got back so late, we were at the bar.” He sounds apologetic. The tone of his voice causes you to deflate a bit, but you force your walls back up.

“You don’t even drink.”

His bright blues flick up to your eyes.

“No,” a grin spreads across his lips, a dangerous glint in his gaze. “Why, you want me to?” You can see his eyes shining as he speaks.

You roll your eyes and fight back a smile, snatching your leg back up and pulling it closer to your body. He always knew how to cheer you up, but tonight you weren’t going down without a fight.

“Oh come on baby, I said I was sorry.” One of his knees dips in the mattress, his hands splaying across the bed as he crawls over to you. Satoru almost looks comically big as he traverses the sheets on his way to you.

“You don’t seem sorry.” You say, pressing your foot on his shoulder to keep him from advancing any further.

“No? What do I gotta do to convince you?” His voice is muffled as he turns his head to grab your foot, pressing gentle kisses into your ankle. He may be the strongest man in the world, but he treats you like porcelain.

One of his arms shoots out and glides across your calf, sliding up and down your skin, sending shivers barreling through you. Your body instantly reacts, heating up the second he touches you. You bite your lip and resist the temptation to pounce on him.

“Want me to make you feel good?” Satoru asks, his eyes locking with yours.

Damn his long arms. He can practically reach your core from where he’s at. Satoru’s hand snakes its way down to your pelvis, the warmth from the pad of his finger seeping through your pajama shorts. He gets in one swipe before you wiggle your hips backwards out of his reach.

“Baby.” His eyebrows furrow while he pouts.

You place your book down and slip your fingers in the band of your shorts. “You’re not allowed to touch me.” The tone of your voice is smooth as you maintain eye contact.

Satoru’s mouth drops open in retaliation while you shimmy your shorts off. You’re left only in your underwear and a sheer tank top. Your legs spread wide open while your fingers dip down, rubbing against your clit. You can’t help but let out a moan at the feeling.

“Baby, please-“ he begs.

Your eyes drift closed while you immerse yourself in pleasure. His pleas fall on deaf ears as you continue working yourself. You can feel the fabric getting soaked even though it had only been a couple minutes.

Fuck, it felt good.

You needed more, body aching to pull down your underwear. But you didn’t think he deserved to see.

“Feels so good, Satoru.” You murmur, hand pushing your tank top up to expose your chest to him. He could at least see that much. How generous of you.

You open your eyes while continuing to rub your clit. You can see Satoru adjusting himself, his hard cock surely painful by now. The outline of his dick bulges through his pants, making your breathing stutter. You lick your lips and drag your eyes up to his.

“Fuck, baby. Please let me touch you.” He asks, his voice straining.

You don’t respond, too afraid that if you do your words will betray you. You stuff your hand in your underwear, needing more contact. Your fingers slip into your pussy, two of your digits not even comparing to one of his. Strangled moans fill the room; a mixture of yours and his. You’re sure there’s a wet patch forming in his underwear by now.

Good, let him know what it’s like to be left wanting.

“T-Think I’m gonna cum, Satoru.” Your fingers speed up.

Satoru’s sitting on his knees now, eyes switching between your blissed out face and your fingers between your legs.

“Yeah?” He asks breathlessly, as if he’s getting off to this just as much as you are. Knowing him, he’s probably enjoying himself more than you.

“Yeah, fuck, feels so good!”

Satoru lets out a mix between a sigh and a moan. You could hardly contain yourself any longer.

“Satoru! I’m-“

“Yeah baby, come on.” He was just as invested as you were, encouraging you from the sidelines.

With a moan you cum hard, your underwear drenched. Your hazy eyes trail Satoru’s body. His breathing is labored, his long fingers splayed over his knees.

“Take it out.” You order.

Right as you finish your sentence, Satoru is sliding his pants and underwear off, exposing himself to you. His cock looks harder than ever, the tip angry and leaking. The sight of it nearly has your eyes rolling in the back of your head. He makes a move to slide between your legs but you stop him. You weren’t finished yet.

“Did you already forget what I said?” You question, the words clawing at your throat as you speak. Part of you craved the feeling of him between your legs, but you knew it would be much more fun this way.

Satoru frowns. He was clearly aching to be inside of you already.

“But-“

“What? You think you deserve to fuck me? You told me you’d be home hours ago.”

His cock twitches at your tone. There’s a bead of precum dripping from his tip, begging to be licked up.

“You’re mad at me?”

“Text me next time so I know that you’re at least safe.” You were concerned. Even though he was the best, that didn’t mean you didn’t care. As much as Satoru would disagree with you, he wasn’t invincible.

He nods quickly, his eagerness wearing you down. Your body feels a bit lighter now that you’ve driven your point across.

“Good. You still can’t fuck me though.”

“What am I supposed to do then?”

You think for a moment before a glorious idea pops in your head. You slide your underwear down and hold them out to him. His expression is nothing short of clueless.

“Get yourself off with my underwear.” You say, hoping your voice doesn’t waver. Your heart pounds in excitement, the mere prospect of him desperately humping your underwear leaving you reeling.

“What?”

“You heard me. Make yourself cum with these.”

His breath hitches in his throat, his hand grabbing the fabric from your fingers. He could feel how cum soaked they were.

“You’re cruel, baby.”

“You’re lucky that I’m letting you have anything at all, Satoru.” The second his name falls from your lips you hear him exhale hard. You catch the sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing from the corner of your eye.

Satoru bites his lip and looks down, wrapping your underwear around his cock. It’s soaking wet from your cum, the damp fabric clinging to his tender skin. A shiver goes through Satoru’s body as soon as it makes contact. You can tell how sensitive he is from where you are. His hand starts to move up and down as he grips his cock, jerking himself off with your soiled underwear.

“G-got so wet, can feel it- fuck, can feel it against me.”

You could cum again from the sight of him. The world's strongest at your beck and call.

“Want more, please let me have more.” He whimpers as his hips buck into his fist.

“Poor baby, if only you were a good boy earlier.” You tut.

Satoru whines, throwing his head back. His pale throat is on display for you, and it’s tempting to reach your hand out to choke him, but you refrain. The sight of him is nothing short of appetizing. His face is completely red, body shaking from how hard he’s breathing. Seeing the strongest person in the world crumble into a puddle because of you made you feel so good; you craved more.

His hand speeds up, precum seeping into the underwear.

“You should’ve just texted me earlier, now you have to fuck my underwear instead. How pathetic, baby.” Your voice is not your own anymore. It belongs to someone else, someone much more powerful and confident than yourself.

Satoru’s eyes close from pleasure. A strangled whimper rips from the back of his throat, the sound making you shiver.

“Oh no, that won’t do. Keep your eyes on me.” You instruct.

He drags his eyes down to look at your figure laid underneath him. Your legs are spread, showcasing the strings of cum that cover your pussy and inner thighs. A sob racks his body, his shoulders begin to tremble from lust.

“How does it feel?” Your sultry voice asks.

“Good, so good- need more, need your pussy baby, please!” You almost feel bad at the way his voice cracks.

“But you look so beautiful for me right now.” You coo, your fingers tracing your slit. “You’re such a mess.”

Your eyes flick down to the clothing wrapped around his groin. You can’t see where your juices end and where his begin. Satoru continues stroking his cock, imagining your warm walls hugging him. It’s not hard enough, fast enough, tight enough. And you knew that. His hips desperately chase his hand, needing more. Even though it couldn’t compare, his high was building, bubbling in his stomach. It was so close, he could feel it.

“Need to cum!” He shudders.

“Gonna ruin my underwear, Satoru?” You hope he does.

“Yes, yes, gonna ruin them, gonna ruin them just for you baby!” He winces and drops his head, eyes scrunching shut. You’ll let him off the hook for that.

His moans fill the bedroom while he strokes frantically. You can see spurts of his cum shooting up, oozing into the fabric. His body relaxes once he stops, hissing at the way your underwear clings to him.

“Did so well for me, baby.” Your words are hushed but full of love. You get up and sit on your knees in front of him, reaching out to stroke his cheek.

Satoru looks up at you, his fucked out expression irresistible. Poor guy, you’re only getting started. Your hand grabs at the underwear, pulling it off, and shoving it in his mouth. His eyes fly open, shock evident on his face.

“Now, be a good boy and clean these up for me.”

#my writing #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk

257 notes · View notes

heyftinally · 7 months ago

Text

Y'all are going to like this one.

SWIFTIES DON'T TOUCH THIS POST WITH A TEN FOOT POLE, I SWEAR TO FUCKING HELL-

So my friend sent me this article, and I'm going to tell you why I think it's complete bullshit.

1) wishing us a happy Pride month is the BARE MINIMUM. As someone with her presence in the media and social influence, she could - and should - be doing SO much more than just wishing us a happy pride four days in.

2) "the singer has been an advocate for the LGBTQ+ community" not a good one. She seems to only remember us when it's convenient or benefits her in some way. Case in point:

2018 - "When it comes to feelings and when it comes to love and searching for someone to spend your whole life with. It's all just really really delicate. You know?" Taylor then performed her song "Delicate."

2023 - It’s painful for everyone, every ally, every loved one, every person in these communities.

In the first example, the intentional song reference comes off as extremely tacky. This is people's LIVES you're talking about. People are MURDERED for who they are and who they love (or don't love). This isn't an appropriate time to pull out the "oh-so-quirky" act and be cutesy.

In the second, the fact that she can't even center queer people in their own experience is so, SO telling. I promise, however painful it is for allies, it's 1000x worse for us to LIVE it. Allies don't have to wonder "am I going to get hate crimed wearing this?" before they leave the house - we frequently do. To not acknowledge that shows me that everything she says is performative at best.

3) I wouldn't call what she does "advocacy". She mentions us every now and then when it's convenient for her, profits off of us when we fit her marketing plan, and I've yet to find where she actually apologized for the homophobia in the original version of Picture to Burn. Also, she's real good friends with Travis Kelce's dad, who is a raging transphobe (and I bet his kids are, too). You don't get to call yourself an ally if you willingly allow the people around you to be violent bigots.

4) "always" is a strong word for someone who seems to show her support situationally at best. The full quote was "The way for that to happen is for us to continue to keep pushing governments to put protections in place for members of the LGBTQ community. And I promise to always advocate for that." Yet she doesn't do that.

5) what she speaks out, I've noticed that it's nearly always in the states that primarily agree with her. We don't see a whole lot of her "inspiring ally" speeches in places like Texas or Florida. But I've seen plenty of them come out of already notoriously queer-friendly places. If you aren't willing to face the heat of the difficult places along with the comfort of the easy ones, you don't get to call yourself an ally. Allyship is not easy. Anyone remember when Lady Gaga advocated for us in Russia, under threat of arrest, and her response was "arrest me, Russia! I don't give a fuck!"? Yeah, I've never seen even half that level of true commitment from Taylor.

6) STOP. MAKING. STRAIGHT GIRL SONGS. "GAY ANTHEMS"!!!! FFS it's such a slap in the fucking face of REAL, ACTUALLY QUEER ARTISTS that y'all keep calling these piss pathetic straight girl over produced crap songs "anthems". Fucking stop it. If they aren't queer, they don't qualify to be a queer anthem or icon. Start supporting ACTUAL queer artists with ⅛ this energy, for the love of FUCK. This bullshit pisses me off. Do you need a list of queer artists? I'll make you one by hand if you promise to stop trying to label Raylor Swift's straight girl shit songs as "gay anthems".

7) rainbows and gender subversion are not exclusively nor inherently queer. If that's our bar for "gay anthems", the bar is so low Lucifer himself needs a damn Webb Telescope to just barely see it from hell.

#anti taylor swift #taylor swift critical #anti swifties #swifties dni #SWIFTIES I SWEAR DO NOT TOUCH MY DAMN POST

279 notes · View notes

fangweaver2099 · 6 months ago

Text

𝐅 𝐀 𝐖 𝐍 𝐓 𝐄 𝐄 𝐓 𝐇 - Prologue pt 2

MINORS DNI 18+ FIC

You’ve always liked the idea of having a dominant partner - BDSM was something you’ve read about, watched videos about.

Something you made Pinterest boards and aesthetic tumblr posts about when you were 18 and curious, the idea always sounded nice, but you’ve never done it in practice, not really. Sure you bought fuzzy handcuffs at a gag gift store once, but that didn’t really count.

You’re still a virgin.

You’ve always had that chronically awkward, workaholic type of vibe that made typical dating near impossible at worst and frustrating at best. Normal dating apps have proven fruitless and agitating. So poor curious little you talked yourself into making a fetlife account. You weren’t looking for true love, but at least you could get laid.

DM Request from: 10:13 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Hello, Fawn.”

College was for new experiences after all.

CW: BDSM heavy/centric fic. Safe, Sane & Consensual. Miguel is your professor, but you both don't know that. Age Gap (Y/N is 23, Miguel is mid 30's)

TAG: @slut4oscarissac23

PART 1 - PART 3

It’s been a week since you met Web. You’ve gotten into the routine he provided after you confirmed he expected you to start instantly. Thankfully, your summer job is walkable and makes the whole hour of exercise he’d demanded - so it isn’t much of a change in routine.

He isn’t pleased that your idea of meals is usually whatever frozen nuggets you have in the fridge or whatever you and your roommates decide to swing by to, but there’s only so much you can do on a college budget, and he begrudgingly accepts that fact after some discussion.

You wake with a groan, still entangled in your gray duvet. You had opted for a daybed for your tiny room and it means you often sleep with your nose touching the wall and your limbs curled close to you, fetal position.

For a long moment, you consider heading back to bed. Your hands search down your body and across your bed for the phone. You pull the damn thing out from under your hip and flip it over in your hand.

Web asks you to download something called ‘Telegram’ - it doesn’t log pictures or anything for that matter, according to him. You find you even have a few contacts saved that used it. You discover your cousin is a furry, but you aren’t going to tell him that.

Web’s icon is what you’d expect, really - a red web. His number is fake - surprising to exactly nobody. He was clearly more tech savvy than you. When you had visualized an ideal dominant - Web checked too many boxes. At first you considered ghosting him, anxiety ate you up.

But you also crave his attention - maybe you’re more lonely than you thought. You find yourself waiting for his messages and bouncing at the attention. You’ve developed a habit of staying up too late waiting to see if he’ll pop back online again.

So you click open your phone, ignoring Facebook, Instagram, whatever, and click open the small blue icon to Telegram.

9:13 AM - WebRigger2099 - “Good Morning.”

“ I slept in… Sorry. Just saw this. Morning. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:15 PM

1:19 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Slept in until 1pm? Up late?”

“ Roommates were loud, so I watched netflix. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:19 PM

1:19 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Maybe when summer is over you’ll be able to get proper sleep at my place.”

“ That sounds nice. We’ll have to see. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:19 PM

1:20 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I can set up a dog bed at the foot of mine. I’d make sure you were comfortable, but you’d have to wake me to go to the bathroom. The leash would keep you bound to bed.”

“ And here I thought we’d snuggle. :p ” - Fawnteeth - 1:20 PM

1:20 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Yes, but you have to earn the bed for sleeping at night. Incentives keep you from growing complacent.”

“ You really do know what you’re doing. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:21 PM

“ Any free time today? ” - Fawnteeth - 1:21 PM

1:21 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I work from home during the summer and practically make my own hours. It’s a quiet day.”

“ Can I ask what you do? ” - Fawnteeth - 1:21 PM

1:21 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Yes, but I won’t answer.”

“ Mysterious. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:22 PM

1:22 PM - WebRigger2099 - “If you guess correct you might earn a treat, pup.”

“ How many tries do I get? ” - Fawnteeth - 1:22 PM

1:22 PM - WebRigger2099 - “We’ll say three.”

“ Banker? ” - Fawnteeth - 1:22 PM

1:22 PM - WebRigger2099 - “No. Every time you get it incorrect, you’ll answer a question of mine, how’s that sound?”

“ That's not very fair. :c ” - Fawnteeth - 1:23 PM

1:23 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I never said it would be.”

“ Fine. Ask away. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:23 PM

1:23 PM - WebRigger2099 - “When was the last time you touched yourself, Fawn?”

“ Oh. These kind of questions. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:23 PM

1:23 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Is that a complaint I hear?”

“ No. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:23 PM

1:23 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Well?”

“ The night after we spoke the first time. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:23 PM

1:23 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Good girl. Excited you, did I?”

“ Yes, sir. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:24 PM

1:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Good girl. You remembered the rule. No ‘maybe’s, only ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”

“ I’m trying my best. It’s not like it’s fun being a brat at the start. I gotta learn your buttons. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:24 PM

1:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You must be a glutton for punishment. Did you see the cane marks I left on some of the girls in my photo album?”

“ I did. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:24 PM

1:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Did it excite you, Fawn?”

You huff, rolling onto your other side on the bed.

“ ...Yes. When do I get to guess again? >:c ” - Fawnteeth - 1:24 PM

1:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I never said you couldn’t. You’re just answering free questions.”

“ Mean. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:24 PM

1:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Exceptionally. You have to earn ‘nice’.”

“ I don’t know why I find you so charming. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:24 PM

“ Librarian? ” - Fawnteeth - 1:24 PM

1:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Wrong. And many submissives find comfort in pain and punishment.”

“ you seem like the librarian type. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:25 PM

1:25 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Because you think I’d spank you with a ruler if you made too much noise?”

“ I don’t think a ruler would hurt very much. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:25 PM

1:25 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You haven’t had one break on your skin then. I’ve left bruises with them before.”

“ I sure haven’t. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:25 PM

1:25 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I’ll have to bring one someday, then. And a crop. Anything else you’d like me to mark you with?”

“ Let me think about it. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:25 PM

“ Personal trainer? You have the body for it. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:25 PM

1:25 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Isn’t that what I’m doing to you? It doesn’t pay very well, but I don’t have any complaints about the benefits so far.”

“ I mean. I guess? You haven’t asked me to work out, plus I hear the right clients means you could make bank. So you are a personal trainer? ” - Fawnteeth - 1:26 PM

1:26 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I did tell you to exercise an hour a day. Did you forget?”

“ Not completely. I walk. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:26 PM

1:26 PM - WebRigger2099 - “No, I’m not a personal trainer. Ready for my last two questions?”

“ Yes. :c I thought I was right… ” - Fawnteeth - 1:26 PM

1:26 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Afraid not.”

1:26 PM - WebRigger2099 - “When you masturbated the night we first spoke, what did you imagine?”

“ A bit of what you could look like. Putting myself into one of your photos. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:27 PM

1:27 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Do you like the idea of me showing you off for everyone to see? Your face covered of course, like the rest.”

“ I sure don’t mind the idea. Do most girls say no? I see you haven’t taken any photos in like 7 years. ” - Fawnteeth - 11:27 PM

1:27 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I’ve been busy. Started again recently.”

“ Ohhh. I see. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:27 PM

1:27 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Would you like to practice?”

“ Practice? ” - Fawnteeth - 1:27 PM

1:27 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Posing for my photos.”

“ Can I see you too? ” - Fawnteeth - 1:27 PM

1:27 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Fair is fair.”

“ Your profile pic leaves most to the imagination. Well. Below the belt, I guess. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:27 PM

1:27 PM - WebRigger2099 - “That’s what you want to see, is it? You’ll need to earn it.”

“ Call me curious. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:27 PM

1:27 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You’ll need to follow my instructions for posing, Fawn. Listening?”

“ Yes. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:28 PM

1:28 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You’ll take a picture of every step to prove you’re following along. Understood?”

“ Okay. Let me lock my door. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:28 PM

You need a gameplan. Checking for your roommates, you pop your head out of your door, listening hard. You can hear your roommate Kore’s music - some pop medley that she’s sewing to. Good.

You don’t hear anyone else, so everybody else must be out. You… try not to think about what Taylor or Aurora could be up to.

Sticking your head back in, you close the door. moving to click the lock shut. You check the door, only for it to open with the slightest tug. Glancing at the lock, you frown, flicking it on and off to see no little ‘lock’ mechanism come out.

Shit… You fucking hate your landlord.

You glance around your room - you are not doing this with your door unlocked. You grew up with half a dozen siblings and strict parents - you know how to improvise. Grabbing the circular chair piled with clothes, you push it to the door and force the metal under your door knob. Hands on your hips, you nod at the handiwork.

Good enough.

Snatching up your phone, you frown, kicking away most of your discarded clothes and random papers.You really need to clean your room, but you decide you’d do it later.

Right now, you have other priorities.

Said priority seems to know just when you sit down, the telegram notification lighting up your screen as if you’ve summoned him by pure thought alone. Think of the devil…

1:46 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Having trouble?”

“ No. All good now. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:46 PM

1:46 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Get a marker.”

You frown, then glance at your backpack. You trot over and search through it, tossing a few pens and your pencil case in frustration.

In the end you find a single purple sharpie.

You click open your phone.

“ Does the color matter? ” - Fawnteeth - 1:46 PM

1:46 PM - WebRigger2099 - “No. It just needs to be visible on your skin.”

“ Kay. Got it then. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:46 PM

1:46 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Take your clothes off. Bra and panties can stay on.”

You glance up at your phone and stare at yourself in the mirror.

Your hair is a bit of a mess - that’s fine.

You glance at your sleep shirt, it’s old and the hem is frayed on the sleeves, the little bunny screen printed onto it is mostly faded. You knew you weren’t wearing a bra, so you glanced around your room till you spotted one laying limply on the floor. Tossing off your top and discarding it wherever it landed.

Pulling the bra on, you take a deep breath, glancing at yourself again in the mirror. You feel yourself hesitating. You’ve taken nudes before, what about this makes it different?

Web makes it different. Him telling you to take these for him makes it different. You slip off your shorts and realize you’re wet. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Still, your phone is in your hand again, you flick it open and type away.

“Kay.” - Fawnteeth - 1:50 PM

1:50 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Where is my proof, Fawn? I told you to take pictures. Are you trying to get punished?”

You bite your lip.

“ No. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:50 PM

You need your face mask - the one you wore in all your photos is easy to find. You wrap the thing around your nose and mouth. You know you’re going to crop out your face anyway, but it makes you feel better.

Like you’re pretending to be someone else. You supposed you aren’t you anymore - you’re Fawn. Fawn doesn’t struggle with nudes. Fawn takes great nudes.

You glance at yourself in the mirror. You end up trying a few poses, trying to not put emphasis on your long legs or stomach rolls. You settle on your knees - back slightly arched, one hand splayed on your thigh. Not too lewd.

You snap the photo, shifting your body a bit as you take another. The routine continues a few more times before you pause to look at the photos.

You decide the second one is the best. You move to crop as much of the background out as you can, including your face. Wisps of your hair remain around your neck but that’s fine. Whatever. Good enough.

You hesitate for a moment, finger lingering on the send button.

What if he doesn’t like it? What if he decides he doesn’t like you? You cringe at the thought. You send the photo and close your phone instantly.

[photo] - Fawnteeth - 1:55 PM

You hear it ping and slowly click the screen back on.

1:52 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Good girl. Has anyone told you you’re beautiful today, Fawn?”

You blush.

“ Now someone has. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:52 PM

1:52 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Write it on yourself. We wouldn’t want you to forget if I’m busy and can’t tell you tomorrow morning.”

“ Okay. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:55 PM

You take a deep breath, grabbing the purple sharpie from beside your knee. Biting down on the cap, you frown, glancing over the expanse of skin thoughtfully.

How the hell do you write backwards…. You’ll flip the image before you send it.

It’s embarrassing how long you pause, you stare at the pen and your skin. You come to the sad realization this is the first time a man has called you beautiful like… ever.

You’re smart enough to realize he’s trying to build you up. God, he knows what he’s doing, doesn’t he?

You settle with scribbling the world carefully onto your right thigh. You don’t use the mirror for the photo this time, taking it directly.

[photo] - Fawnteeth - 1:55 PM

1:55 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Again.”

You consider asking him where. After considering for a moment, you scribble ‘beautiful’ on your other thigh. It’s not huge and written towards your knee, but it’s readable.

[photo] - Fawnteeth - 1:56 PM

1:56 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Keep going.”

You wonder where - not your thighs again you decide. After some effort you manage to scribble it carefully above your panty waistband, crawling from your hip and across your stomach.

This time you have to use the mirror. You settle back into that kneeling pose and take a few shots.

You pick the favorite, flipping it so the text can actually be read. You crop it again, cutting off your shoulders and part of your arm.

[photo] - Fawnteeth - 1:57 PM

1:57 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Good. That’s enough.”

“ Here I expected something lewd. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:57 PM

1:57 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Now pull your panties to the side and show me your pussy.”

Your cunt throbs, making your thighs snap together. He isn’t even talking, it it’s words on a fucking screen . It’s unfair how effortlessly arousing Web is.

You could say no. You don’t think he’d be upset if you said no. He had spoken a dozen times over about consent in the past week, reaffirming to you that if you thought it was too much that you were welcome to say so. All it took was you typing yellow or red.

You don’t.

“ Mkay. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:58 PM

You end up sitting back on your ass, legs apart. You see the dark mark on your panties in between your legs. You almost shutter pulling the cloth aside. You feel your slickness on your fingers and wipe it away with your inner thigh.

You see yourself through your phone, legs spread and the hints of the words written on your thighs make you freeze.

You settle with closing your eyes to take the picture. You don’t crop it this time - but your face is still missing from the shot regardless. Just a hint of the black cloth over your chin. Your face is warm both from your cheeks and your breath now.

You click send and wait patiently for his reply.

[photo] - Fawnteeth - 1:58 PM

It comes instantly.

1:58 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Now shove the marker inside.”

Your eyes widen.

1:58 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Take a picture so I can see all the writing and the marker inside you.”

You grab the top of the marker and cap it, flipping it in your fingers.

“ I’ll try. ” - Fawnteeth - 1:59 PM

The marker is cold. You cringe as you press it against your overheated pussy, flinching as you run it along your opening. After a deep breath you slip it into your opening. You couldn’t exactly feel it - it was more like your fingers.

You’ve never bought a toy, knowing your roommates would rip the package open to see what you ordered, nosy as they are, and it’s not like you could order it to your childhood home. There are some things even you know better than to do.

Slowly, you kneel again, your hips up in the air as you see the small white and purple thing in between your thighs.

The last time you took a nude was before college. You chickened out of sending it to your boyfriend at the time. Now you’re just thankful you never got to second base with him.

You take the picture, eyes closed again. Like that somehow made what you were doing more modest and less slutty.

Is it slutty? It’s not like you’re sending it to anyone but Web. But also… who is Web?

[photo] - Fawnteeth - 2:02 PM

2:03 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ Good girl. I’m posting this as an album on my page for everyone to see. I’ll blur the background for your privacy, and you already have your mask on.”

“ I thought this was supposed to be practice? :’c ” - Fawnteeth - 2:03 PM

You slip the marker from yourself and put your panties back on correctly. You cringe at the cold wetness.

2:03 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I find it best to practice by doing.”

“ I guess that makes sense. It’s the first time I’ve sent that to anyone on here. Can you keep the one with my crotch in it private? ” - Fawnteeth - 2:03 PM

2:03 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You did good. Lighting and the perfect background are nice, but it's not realistic. Not everyone has perfectly angled windows and lamps to make shots. This is raw. Vulnerable. And yes, I can keep those two private.”

“ Thanks. My room is kinda a mess… You’re nice, Web. ” - Fawnteeth - 2:03 PM

2:03 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Just respectful, and not that much. You have low bars, Fawn. Careful someone doesn’t take advantage of them.”

“ You haven’t. ” - Fawnteeth - 2:03 PM

2:03 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You just shoved a marker up your cunt for me without even questioning it.”

“ I think you’d be fine if I had said no. When do I get to see it? ” - Fawnteeth - 2:04 PM

2:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I suppose you earned it.”

His hands are huge, his chest is broad and clearly the same guy in the photo… and…

Your eyes widen at his dick. The sweatpants bulge in his profile pic is a fucking beast. You had asked him how long it was before, shyly, and he said eight inches. Sheepishly, you told yourself you’d fetch a ruler to see what that would be like in person.

You’d been too nervous to follow through.

He’s wide, too, his log-like member swollen with arousal. The dark brown skin fades to a milder tan as your eyes finally leave his bulge, trailing up the muscular torso. You swear you see a bead of sweat running down his abs, but you realize that it's yours .

You’re sweating, forehead moist, wiping away the rest with a glide of the back of your hand.

Like all the pictures he had of himself in his gallery, the picture cuts off at the beginning of his neck. This one also cuts off near the knees at the bottom.

“ Jesus christ. ” - Fawnteeth - 2:07 PM

“ Did I do that?. ” - Fawnteeth - 2:07 PM

2:07 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Would you be proud of yourself if you did?”

“ I’d feel special. ” - Fawnteeth - 2:07 PM

2:08 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You’re special, Fawn. Do you know what I would do if you were in front of me right now?”

You sink on your thighs as his words. ‘You’re special’ makes you almost tear up. You’re absolutely charmed by him.

Slowly, you lay on the floor, hovering your phone above your face. It’s hard not to grin, chewing your lip red as you think over your reply.

“ No, can you tell me? ” - Fawnteeth - 2:08 PM

You feel accomplished at that. You’re being so smooth and cool.

You wait patiently, crossing your legs and bouncing one of them in the air.

He doesn’t reply. You feel sweat gathering at the back of your neck. You move from lounging casually to sat cross legged before your mirror. You debate sending another message.

You do not send another message - that would make you look desperate, and you are definitely not desperate. That has to be a massive turnoff anyways - after all, he knows what he’s doing, he’s incredibly attractive and hung. He’s probably so sure of himself. Pestering him would just annoy him.

It isn’t even five minutes you wait before you decide to do anything but stare at your phone. You change into loose pajama pants and toss your shamefully wet panties into the laundry hamper.

You’re halfway through cleaning your room when you hear it.

Your phone pings and, embarrassingly, you drop the bra you were holding to rush for your bed. Feeling like a kid on christmas, your fingers shake as you punch in your passcode and pull up the notification.

2:15 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I’m sorry. I have to go for a few hours.”

Your stomach sinks. You think you might be sick.

“ Oh. Okay. ” - Fawnteeth - 2:15 PM

2:15 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I can message you again tonight after 8.”

“ I’ll hold you to that. ” - Fawnteeth - 2:15 PM

Okay. It isn’t your fault, right? Something’s very clearly up with his life.

Frowning, you force yourself take a deep breath to calm yourself.

You investigate his picture, his bedroom is neat and simple. It’s clearly not a hotel room - it’s got some personal cozy touches and you can see some brick outside the window behind his shoulder. The sheets are messy and the blankets are mismatched. He’s probably just some normal guy, maybe he works in an office and just likes his body.

And… bondage.

Y’know - average weird secret pervert things. Hopefully he isn’t married . You didn’t see a ring on either of his hands or even an indent from one he might have taken off for the photos.

Your eyes eventually drift to the marker discarded on your floor, the end still slick. If he was some kind of weird pervert, what does that just make you?

You look down at your stomach and the small ‘beautiful’ written carefully on it. You need to take a shower and get this off.

You sneak through the house with a change of clothes and your nice shampoo you don’t share with anyone. Your house has one bathroom with a half decent shower, technically being a 2 ½ bath house.

You don’t like the other bathroom that Kore and Babette mostly use. It only has a bathtub - the shower head doesn’t work.

You hop in the shower and are horrified at your discovery. It’s not coming off. The writing doesn’t come off with the dove soap or Aurora’s washing puff. Not even scratching it with your nails does anything but vaguely fade it.

Great.

You try your best to not freak out. You’ll dress like it’s winter until you can wash it off your skin. You should have asked Web if you should use a sharpie.

You wash your hair and dry off the best you can. Thankfully, your loose shorts and loose t-shirt hide the marks as long as you don't let the shorts ride up your thighs too much.

You return to your room and move your chair back into its place. You don’t have work today and you can hear the movement that told you one of your roomies had just gotten home.

Your stomach growls.

You’re hungry - three meals, you remind yourself, Web always somewhere close to the front of your mind. Technically this would your first meal, you did just wake up and… fuck. Anxiously, you tug down your pajama shorts. Lesson learned, that shit doesn’t come off in the shower. You make a note to ask Web for a marker to get that does wash off.

You find yourself questioning why some random faceless man on the internet is the motivation you have to take care of yourself. Shaking away the thought, you explore the tiny freezer stuffed with mostly frozen chicken nuggets. You frown, debating ordering takeout again. You settle on boiling noodles and smothering them in pesto and salt.

You head out to the living room - the room is eternally cluttered like the rest of your college house. The ceiling light doesn’t work, so you and your roomies had hung fairy lights everywhere. The drapes are pulled back to let light in - the lesbian flag with markiplier’s face on it in full display to the whole neighborhood. Four couches meant you had plenty of space to sit, falling in the far corner from the only other person in the room - Aurora.

The bubbly blonde is chomping away at her food, phone propped up on the stained coffee table as some sort of video plays. You eat while listening to something about a person named ‘illuminaughty’.

Aurora looked up from her bowl of fruit loops from the couch, she smiled through a mouthful, cheeks as stuffed as a chipmunk. "Mornin'!" she grinned, never one for table manners.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her arm, "You slept in late."

Her eyes looked you up and down, a perfectly tweezed eyebrow raising to look at your leg. "Were you drawing on yourself?"

You looked down, a purple "L" in sharpie just barely poking out of your shorts. You feel a chill go down your spine. You are fucking mortified.

"Uh...yeah," you say quickly, your brain scrambling for a moment to make up some lie. You couldn't just confess that you'd written on yourself and shoved the marker up your pussy just because a man you didn't even know the name of told you too. "Got bored last night, y'know."

Aurora shrugs, thankfully dropping the subject as she turns her attention back to her bowl of sugar cereal.

You promptly get, desperately pretending that she didn’t notice your sexy leg writing, and power walk to your bedroom. It takes effort to not slam the door.

You stay in your room for the rest of the day because you sure as fuck aren’t hanging around your roomies now. Aurora would question you again - it’s Aurora, and you can’t exactly explain away wearing long pants in June.

So you break out your laptop and watch Delicious in Dungeon. You always have a habit of marathoning random shows on Netflix and it passes the time better than staring at the wall, waiting for Web to message you.

You got popcorn as a snack, maybe you’d eat weird monster food too. Senshi does make it look delicious. You chuckle, realizing the name matches.

Hours passed and the sun is barely setting before you consider taking a nap.

8:00 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Hello Fawn.”

You sit up and snatch your phone up at the ping.

“ Hey. Everything good? ” - Fawnteeth - 8:00 PM

8:00 PM - WebRigger2099 - “It’s fine, just a sudden schedule change. Things moved up quicker than I expected, but I should be done for the night.”

“ Okay. Well… You never answered my question, Web. ” - Fawnteeth - 8:01 PM

“ Also. How do I get sharpie off my skin. ” - Fawnteeth - 8:01 PM

8:01 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Oh Fawn…”

“ I thought I could scrub it off, if I’m honest. I figured… you.. might… know… ” - Fawnteeth - 8:02 PM

8:02 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I do, but maybe I should let you keep it on until it fades normally. A lesson to be more careful. Better this than something more serious.”

“ I should have figured as much. ” - Fawnteeth - 8:02 PM

8:03 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I’m just glad you didn’t shove it deeper. You can’t put things inside without a flare, it’ll get stuck. I didn’t realize I needed to explain things like that to you, but I know better now.”

“ I know that. ” - Fawnteeth - 8:03 PM

8:03 PM - WebRigger2099 - “But not that permanent markers are hard to remove.”

“ Yes. ” - Fawnteeth - 8:03 PM

8:03 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Fawn you are delightfully foolish.”

“ I’m glad you enjoy my suffering. ” - Fawnteeth - 8:03 PM

8:03 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I enjoy your happiness too.”

“ You’re good with words. ” - Fawnteeth - 8:03 PM

8:03 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Better with my hands, but you’ll learn that later.”

“ I’ll make sure to keep that in mind. ” - Fawnteeth - 8:04 PM

“ Well. Now that I’ve made myself a fool, I hope I haven’t turned you off. ” - Fawnteeth - 8:04 PM

8:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Hardly. I believe we left off before at ‘what I would do to you if I was there’.”

“ Thank you for mentioning it so.. I didn’t have to bring it up again. I’m still quite curious. ” - Fawnteeth - 8:04 PM

8:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You remember the picture I sent you?”

“ I do. ” - Fawnteeth - 8:04 PM

8:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I want you to order something. I’ll pay, naturally, but I figure it would be more comfortable if I didn’t know your address so quickly.”

“ Yeah. I think that would take some time. A toy? ” - Fawnteeth - 8:04 PM

8:05 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I have a list. Run away with the money and you won’t hear my answer.”

“ I won’t. But are you sure you want to invest anything in me yet? ” - Fawnteeth - 8:05 PM

8:05 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You’ve invested at least 3 days in me with that marker.”

“ True enough. ” - Fawnteeth - 8:05 PM

8:06 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I’m comfortable financially. This isn’t the hit it might be for a girl your age. You’ve earned some nice things.”

“ Oh. I see. Thank you. ” - Fawnteeth - 8:06 PM

8:06 PM - WebRigger2099 - “No using them without my permission, understood?”

“ Understood, sir. ” - Fawnteeth - 8:06 PM

He sends you the link to an adult website. Your cheeks flush as your screen is filled with all sorts of sex toys and other lewd imagery. Your eyes flicker to your door for a moment, anxiety simmering low in your belly as the thought of someone walking into your room and seeing what you were looking at flashes through your mind. You bite your lip, feeling like a nervous teenager under your father’s roof once again.

You notice that the cart has been pre filled with a number of items: A 6 inch silicone dildo; a Lovense egg vibrator; nipple clamps; a rabbit vibrator; a bottle of water-based lube; and a set of black lingerie that matches your face mask.

Your eyes linger on the cart total. That’s more than your paycheck .

“ You sure? ” - Fawnteeth - 8:09 PM

8:09 PM - WebRigger2099 - “If I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t have sent you the link. There is a gift card code: HGJ-8734-KHW. It’ll cover the expenses and leave a little extra for you to browse and select one or two items that catch your interest.”

“ Okay. Thank you. ” - Fawnteeth - 8:09 PM

8:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You’re welcome, Fawn. I take care of my pets.”

#miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #into the spider verse #miguel o'hara smut

168 notes · View notes

angel-of-the-moons · 1 year ago

Note

can you do some bratty reader x johnny cage :33 need him so bad 😭

HELLS YEA I CAN

(Also because it wasn't specified which Johnny, I'm gonna go with MK1 because the things I would do to with this man--)

Bad Kitten

Johnny Cage x Bratty!Fem!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, SMUT, bratty!reader, bit of a dom!Johnny (but not much), pool sex, teasing, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, dirty talk

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵

Being Johnny Cage's girlfriend had its perks.

Living in Malibu in his gorgeous mansion was one of them. As well as having a bomb ass pool that went all the way inside the house, too.

It was no biggie to pop in for a swim whenever you wanted to engage in your "fish instinct brain" that Johnny called it. In fact, when Johnny couldn't get a hold of you while he was on set, or you weren't answering he knew he could find you floating in the pool, one of your favorite shows playing on the TV nearby as you lazily kicked your feet about in the water.

You were a bombshell, a true prize, Johnny would tell everyone.

But the one thing that confounded him the most, was your bratty and playful personality. You were a smartass, a bit of a prankster, and a maddening tease.

An intoxicating cocktail that he couldn't resist (and found stupidly sexy).

But sometimes... You needed some reminding as to who you were playing with. And right now was one of those times.

He crossed his arms as he looked down at you, his shoes just inches from the edge of the pool, his expensive silk shirt wet and damp from where you splashed him, soles squeaking on the expensive tile.

"C'mon, Kitten..." He said, crossing his arms over his chest, frowning down at you, a bite to his tone.

"Because of you, I have to go change now. We're gonna miss our reservations."

"So?" You grin up at him, doing a lazy backstroke, thrusting your chest up out of the water so your breasts were on display, your bikini top leaving little to the imagination.

You could see his Adams apple bob in his throat as he licked his lips. You couldn't see his glasses behind his shades, but you knew damn well what he was looking at.

"Baby, c'mon..." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Nah. Fish brain demands water." You laugh, kicking your foot out and splashing water onto his shoes, causing him to step back with a sputter.

Somewhere along that time, Johnny slipped on the water you'd splashed earlier, landing flat on his ass and sending his glasses skittering across the floor.

"All right, that's it!" Johnny growled, moving to get back on his feet.

"You are in for--" He was cut off when your bikini top came flying at him and hit him square in the face.

His mouth dropped open when he looked at you, the setting sun casting fiery colors on the water, reflecting up onto the walls in a mystical array of patterns, the light of the sunset illuminating around you as you spun in the water, a cheeky grin on your face as your breasts freely bobbed in the water.

"In for what, baby?" You purr, sticking your tongue out at him. "Gotta catch me if you wanna get your point across..."

Johnny gave you a grin that sent a thrill down your spine, and he started pulling his clothes off.

💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵

"I'm soo-oo-rrr-rrryyy!" You whimpered, squirming to get free from his relentless grasp.

"Nope. Nuh-uh." Johnny said casually, as he rolled and pinched your clit between his thumb and forefinger. Your bikini bottoms had long since been untied, floating somewhere in the pool.

He had been at it for nearly an hour and a half. Your bodies were already pruning, but that didn't stop him.

"You got my floor wet, Kitten." Johnny sighed in your ear as he gave you another pinch, his other arm wrapped firmly around your waist, keeping your back pinned to his front.

"Got my clothes wet, made us miss our dinner reservation..." He rolled your clit beneath his water-wrinkled thumb.

"Made me drop my glasses, too. If those lenses are scratched... Well." He grinned into the skin of your shoulder.

"This is what happens to bad pussies, you know. You gotta learn your actions have consequences, babe."

You groaned at his crude metaphor, and made a shaky moan. Your throat was dry and scratchy, your tongue feeling like sandpaper from your whining, squealing, and moaning you'd done since he started this torture.

You felt the flames of your orgasm, so close to completely engulfing you, and you felt your heart speed up again at the promise of release.

But Johnny? Oh, he knew your body like that back of his hand, by now.

He knew how to read you the way a blind man reads a book written in braille; and he was always eager to study when it came to you.

And that, is precisely why he stopped, merely tapping his finger on your engorged clit, sighing as you thrashed, a needy sob coming from you as water splashed around you, your legs kicking weakly in protest.

"Johnny!" You cried, tears burning in the corners of your eyes.

"Mmm?" He hummed innocently, still tapping your clit in a way that was just pure torture, each point of contact sending lightning bolts striking up through you.

You could feel the hardness of his cock was pressed firmly against your ass, yet Johnny seemed perfectly content to ignore it in favor of driving you to the brink of insanity with just his fingers.

"God--just--fucking--" You cry, throwing your head back.

"Hey, now, keep talking like that and I'm gonna make sure you never get off." Johnny grinned at you, kissing your cheek.

"Johnny, I'm sorry--" You hiccuped pathetically. "Just please!"

"Please what, baby?" He cooed.

"Fu--please. Please please pleasepleaseplease let me cum."

"Aaaaaand?" He chuckled, swiping at your clit again.

"I'm sorry I got you wet!" You sobbed. "Ah-and--and made us miss d-dinner!"

"That's my girl! Knew you could do it!" He encouraged with a kiss to your shoulder.

When he pulled his hand away from your, you whined, thinking that he was messing with you and wouldn't give you the relief he had been teasing you with and yanking out of your fingers.

But when he spun you around and started to grind his cock against your folds in the water? You felt your mind get foggy with the promise of having his cock fuck you into oblivion.

"Been wanting to fuck you in the pool for a while." He grunted as you blindly reached down to line him up, sinking down so the tip of his cock popped into your aching hole.

Johnny tipped his head back with a deep groan that rumbled in his chest as you speared yourself down, nails biting into the wet skin of his shoulders, sliding down to leave deep red grooves in the skin.

"Goddamn, Kitten. You're so tight."

"Ah, god--fuck." You whine, desperately trying to get into a rhythm that you could settle into.

But it was hard. The slickness of the water made it difficult; awkward and hard to find purchase. You were getting frustrated now, and made an angry whine.

Johnny chuckled tightly and took pity on you, his feet planting on the tiles of the pool below (thankfully you were on the shallow end, right now) as he grabbed your hips.

He used the water to help him move you as he arched his back, thrusting up into you with vigor.

You squealed and doubled over as he rammed himself in mercilessly.

When he tipped his hips up in a certain way, your mind went blank with the white-hot pleasure that sparked in your blood. The flames of your orgasm that Johnny had been edging from you finally combusted, engulfing you in the choking flames with a frayed wail; your muscles clamping down on his cock as you wrapped your arms around his neck, sniffling from the overstimulation as he continued to slam up into you, his arms caging you against his chest.

"Fuck, so good for me, baby." He hissed through clenched teeth.

"Doing so. Fucking. Good." He grunted, punctuating each word with a harsh snap of his hips.

"Johhhnnnnyyyyy..." You mewled as his dick dragged in and out of your gummy walls.

"Fuck!" He rolled his eyes back with a deep moan, swallowing hard.

He knew he was going to cum soon, he never lasted long when you were this worked up and tight.

But damn, was it fun to work you up.

Johnny made a whimper in your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth, biting down as his orgasm started to crest.

He had the mental acuity enough to pull out before he started to cum, milky white ropes spurting out of his swollen and achy tip, lazily wafting about in the waves that splashed around the two of you.

You both almost collapsed, letting the push and pull of the water ease your muscles.

"...Im thinking we should order out tonight." Johnny grinned at you.

"Up for some Chinese?"

#answered #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat smut #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x you #johnny cage smut #johnny cage mk #johnny cage #johnny cage mk1

690 notes · View notes

crunchwrapsnoopy · 2 months ago

Text

Second Chances [Touya Todoroki x Reader]

˙⋆✮ That's So True ✮⋆˙

"Looking into big blue eyes. Did it just to hurt me, make me cry Smiling through it all, yeah, that's my life."

even villains deserve a lil redemption

Dabi x F. Reader

𓂃ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ༄˖°𓂃ﾟ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ.

WC: 1398

I'm sat on my thrifted couch by the window as rain softly beats against the glass. I press play on the voicemail for what feels like the millionth time, the words already burned into my memory, but still, I can’t help myself. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe hearing it again will change something.

"Y/N, please come back. What I did was wrong, it’s been months... I can’t lose you. The league misses you, too. Toga won't shut her damn mouth about you. Fuck, I’m so drunk right now... I love you. I know I didn’t say it often, but—"

The sound of Shigaraki’s raspy voice cuts through, sharp and impatient. "What are you yapping about?" he snarls. "We’ve got shit to do, wrap it up."

Dabi’s voice stumbles back in, slurred. "Bye, Y/N. I have to get a new burner soon- I’ll try calling again. Fuck, I know you won’t pick up. You haven’t the last dozen times but I’ll try." The message ends with a quiet beep.

It’s been three months since that call. And by then, I’d already been gone for seven. Seven months since the night I left him—the night I left all of them behind. His betrayal, his lies... it was too much. It’s been almost a year since I stepped away from the league, from the chaos, from the life that almost consumed me and swallowed me whole. A year since I walked out and didn’t look back.

I’m lucky, though. So stupidly lucky. My quiet, lowkey role in the league made slipping away easy, there were no repercussions or police coming after me every time I stepped foot outside. I’ve kept off the radar, built a new life for myself—a quiet life. I work at a flower shop now, which is insanely different than working as a villain for Shigaraki and the League of Villains, and it smells a lot better too. I’ve even gotten myself a little apartment on the edge of town, cozy, with a window that overlooks a quiet street, and roommate, which is actually just a little calico kitty that I named Cupcakes.

I’ve found peace here. Real peace. But the voicemail keeps pulling at me like a thread that came loose on a favorite sweater, both painful circumstances. And no matter how hard I try to ignore it, I know Dabi’s voice will haunt me forever if I don't talk to him at least one more time, and attempt to get better closure than some shitty drunk voicemail.

I text Giran, the broker that supplies the league with everything, including burner phones. Dabi stopped calling recently, so I assumed he lost my number with the last burner, because knowing him, he wouldn't stop calling just to give me space.

Me: Hi Giran! It's Y/N, I know we haven't talked in a while, but I was wondering if you know Dabi's current burner phone #? 😇

He gets back to me almost immediately.

Giran: Y/N!! So good to hear from you, kid, thought you fell off the planet lmao. And yea I can send the number. Giran: ###-###-####

He sends me the number, and I dial it immediately, my hands trembling. After a few rings, Dabi picks up, his voice sounding annoyed. "Who’s this? And how’d you get this number?"

"Hey, uhm... it’s me, Y/N."

"Y/N?" His tone softens, a hint of surprise in his voice. "Didn’t think I’d hear from you tonight. What’s up?"

I hesitate for a moment before speaking. "I just wanted to talk... are you busy?" I can hear a lot of voices in the background—probably everyone from the League. "If you’re tied up, it’s fine. It’s nothing important."

"Never too busy for you, doll." His voice shifts, and I hear him step away from the noise, the background chatter fading as he walks off.

The noise in the background slowly fades as he steps away, and I imagine him walking down a hallway, his boots hitting the floor with a slow, deliberate rhythm. The sounds of his breathing and the soft hum of his movements are the only things I can hear now. It’s strange, this feeling of distance and closeness at the same time.

“Alright, I’m all yours,” Dabi says, his voice rough but clear now, like he’s giving me his full attention. “What’s on your mind, Y/N?”

I swallow hard, staring at the rain outside, the droplets running down the glass, blurring everything in sight. My heart races in my chest, a million thoughts running through my head, none of them making sense. “I don’t know,” I admit, running a hand through my h/c hair. “I guess... I just needed to hear your voice.”

“Yeah, I figured that.” He lets out a soft chuckle, though it sounds a little strained. “You’ve been gone for a while. Thought you were never gonna reach out.”

“I didn’t think I would either,” I reply quietly. “But... I keep listening to that last voicemail you left. Over and over again. I just... I couldn’t stop myself.”

There’s another long pause, and I can almost hear the shift in his posture. Maybe he’s rubbing his face, or clenching his jaw. I wouldn’t be surprised. Dabi’s never been one for easy emotions. “Shit,” he mutters, sounding like he’s been through too much to deal with this. “I shouldn’t have left that message. I meant what I said but I wish I said it better, I wasn’t thinking straight.”

"It's okay. I liked it." I say softly.

"Really?" He asks, his voice almost in disbelief at me admitting that I enjoy his shitty drunk voicemail despite everything.

“Yeah,” I answer quietly, feeling the weight of the words settle between us. “It wasn't like you at all- guess the liquid courage helped a lil, huh?" I laugh dryly, "It was real sweet its own way. I could tell you meant it, even if you were drunk n didn’t know how to say it.”

Dabi’s silence on the other end feels heavier now. I can almost picture him—frowning, leaning against a wall, trying to collect himself. "Fuck," he mutters after a moment, voice low. "I never thought I'd hear you say something like that. But... I'm glad you did."

“I’ve been avoiding it,” I admit, my fingers tightening around my phone. "Avoiding you, avoiding everything. But I can’t keep running forever."

Dabi lets out a long exhale, like a weight’s been lifted from his chest. "I get it. I know you had your reasons for leaving, and I don’t blame you for it. I fucked up." His voice drops a little. "But if I’m being honest... I’ve missed you, Y/N. More than I ever thought I would."

My heart skips a beat. It’s strange to hear him speak so plainly, without the usual sharpness in his voice. "I’ve missed you too," I whisper before I can stop myself. The confession catches me off guard, and I quickly add, "But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to just jump back into everything. Things are... complicated."

"I know," Dabi replies, quieter now, as if he’s absorbing my words. "I’m not asking you to. I’m just... saying that I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere. If you want me to prove it, I’ll prove it."

There’s something in his voice now that feels different, a promise without needing the words. A subtle shift in how he speaks to me, less like the cocky villain and more like a person who’s afraid of losing something he doesn’t deserve.

I stare out the window at the rain, a tightness in my chest as I let the quiet wash over me. I know I can’t go back to the way things were, but maybe—just maybe—I can start a new chapter with him, one where we’re both trying, even if we don’t have all the answers.

“I don’t know how I feel yet,” I say finally, voice soft but steady. “But... maybe we can try again. Slowly.”

Dabi’s voice is quieter now, but there's an undeniable relief in it. "That’s all I need. A chance. We can take it slow."

I lean back against the couch, closing my eyes as I listen to the steady rain and his steady breathing on the other end of the line. For the first time in a long while, the knot in my chest begins to loosen. There’s no going back to what we were before, but maybe there’s still a chance for something else.

"Alright," I whisper, a faint smile tugging at my lips despite myself. "Let’s see where this goes."

𓂃ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ༄˖°𓂃ﾟ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ.

#dabi #boku no hero academia #mha #mha x reader #my hero academia #league of villains #shigaraki #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #lov x reader #lov mha #touya x reader

80 notes · View notes

tyttamarzh · 1 year ago

Text

Missasinfonia, songs and QSMP…

Hello!! Well, since we all continue to miss Missa, I want to share a little thought.

I don't know if it has already been talked about here, but in the Hispanic fandom of Missa we have his songs very present and some people have not been able to avoid talking about how some of them adapt perfectly to the QSMP.

I want to talk about two in particular whose lyrics I think are perfect for describing Missa's relationship with his family.

The first one is called "Privilegios" (privileges) and I think it describe what Missa is currently going through with Philza. Well, it talks about the anxiety of feeling insufficient for the other and trying to improve but feeling afraid of moving forward (the young Missa from 2014 wrote very deep lyrics). I remember that in a stream he told us about how several of his songs came about and said that he wrote "Privilegios" thinking about us, the people who follow him, because he didn't feel enough for us and is why he always try to do things better. Either way, I think he's perfect for describe his situation with Phil.

The song:

youtube

Lyrics

Sometimes I forget my sorrows and things I should do Because ideas slip away, they do not allow us to see Well creating something new means forgetting I would like to be like before and go back to the past

I know how to write the word mature very well But my thoughts don't let me act I don't want to forget, I don't ask for your mercy Because honestly I can fix it.

Chorus I don't know what to do if you're not okay (you're okay!) I don't know whether to lie to me or throw myself at your feet I wonder if I can deserve you Because I didn't earn the privilege.

How can I destroy damn anxiety? If outside my mind is my reality It is not so easy to wish others ill. just so I can free myself

The second song I want to talk about is called "Tarde para el plan B" (Late for Plan B) and I think it could be a message from Missa to Chayanne, some of the things he mentions remind me of what Missa told him in that day of fishing before travel to Japan. He talks about how it's okay to fail and that he shouldn't be overwhelmed by his mistakes, and encourages him to keep going and get better. There is also a phrase that I like to think is very much theirs, since it infers that even if they are not together, he will always see him. Now every time I hear that song I think of them and I can't help it u.u (It's a song created 10 years ago, but I think it's fits perfectly).

The song:

youtube

Lyrics

Have you ever wondered… what could happen if after the years, you could come back to the past? Would you have the chance to see what is wrong the bad memories you would be able to erase.

Enjoy moments you didn't see coming feel from the beginning what you should feel but remorse can cut you and repenting would be the final act

Look for alternatives, see how to improve May you know how to handle your situations You don't always get a second chance. you must take advantage of what time gives you

If they give you their hand, don't take our foot don't ask for the moon when it's barely dawning You don't run when you want to calm down do something your soul can bear

[PRE CHORUS] And it's not that it's bad, it could be worse. What doesn't kill you makes you better.

And listen to me, here I will be, watching your actions wherever you are.

sometimes the reasons chase me but they don't want to catch me Sometimes actions are what will count, but you won't count. I prove that what I say is true It's your problem if you don't want to change but honestly sometimes everyone can fail

In the hope that everything is fine There are ideas within your being that grow and create the bad decision than wanting to correct what has already happened

Do what you need to make you feel better. Defeat your demons, destroy that pain Errors exist to know what someone else could fall into

and it's not that it's bad, it could be worse What doesn't kill you makes you better

listen to me, I will be here watching your actions wherever you are

My favorite phrase from this song is: "don't ask for the moon when it's barely dawning" (I just like how deep it sounds xD)

And that's all for now, I've never created a post here, I hope it's okay. Thanks for reading my crazy thoughts. Greetings!!

#deathduo #pissa #missasinfonia #missa #chayanne the egg #qsmp #philza #Youtube

250 notes · View notes

malfiora · 5 months ago

Text

Good Enough

Bruce probably wasn't meant to hear it, but his heart squeezes all the same. His fingers clutch at his chest and his throat works around the lump suddenly lodged in it.

"I'll have to ask my dad," Dick had said. The words belong to another child, one Bruce has never met. But that voice – its tone, its warmth, its certainty – is Dick. Undeniably, unmistakably Dick. He's talking to one of his teachers (Mr. Mather, he recalls only because he had to deal with Dick's insistence that his biology teacher be called Ms. Sciencer for weeks) and he grins when he spots Bruce stalled by the door. "Oh, speak of the devil."

Bruce stumbles his way through a conversation about Dick's exceptional grades and aptitude for abstract concepts and how he has real potential as a mathlete, but his brain is humming with wordless excitement at the word "dad" and eager to hear it tickle the air again. He floats on that feeling all the way home, even elongating their return to tell Alfred to pull over at that fast food joint Dick likes, the one with the milkshakes.

And then he crashes. Dick disappears into his room to allegedly do homework (Bruce is eighty-five percent sure he's actually hopping onto his computer to IM Barbara Gordon), and with him vanishes the warmth of being considered a father. Left in its wake is a coldness injecting nausea into his gut.

He can't be a – he doesn't know how to – when did Dick even – and why him? The past three years flash by in reverse: Dick dancing through a spray of bullets, tears streaming from Dick's mask as he watched Batman fall from a snapped line just like they did, Dick standing proudly before a mirror in his brand new costume, a gleam of murderous intent staring up at him, a broken boy swallowed up in an EMT's blanket while his world lay shattered at his feet. What has he done? How could he think that drawing this bright kid into his dark roost was a good idea? And now Dick thinks of him as a father figure – it's too late to go back, isn't it?

He isn't John Grayson, will never be, doesn't want to try. He hears the whispers among polite society speculating why he won't adopt Dick, but none of them come close to the truth. It's rooted in fear (inaction always is). Fear that he'll be seen as the fraud he is, and then Dick will leave and regret ever calling him "dad."

He's not even Thomas Wayne, not for lack of trying. His memories of the man are faded around the edges but he knows he devoted himself completely to any and all that he loved: his career, his wife, his son. Thomas Wayne didn't do anything by halves. But Bruce Wayne is constantly torn – one foot planted in civilian domesticity fumbling his way through raising a child, the other firm in Gotham's underbelly hellbent on redeeming the damned while keeping his kid partner safe from the danger that he throws him into in the first place.

"Sir," Alfred calls, his voice soft. "If you're done drilling a hole through the carpet with your eyes, I've put tea on."

Bruce blinks and looks up at Alfred. "Tea sounds great, Alfred."

He plods after Alfred and into the tearoom. Alfred deftly sets out cups, saucers, and bowls of cream and sugar before pouring the fresh brew. Bruce murmurs a "thanks" before sipping his. Alfred lowers himself into the seat opposite his at the small table.

"Master Dick seems to be doing well at the Academy," Alfred says. "I can't imagine that that caused your dour mood."

Those who call Batman the world's greatest detective just haven't met Alfred. "Dick called me 'dad' today," he explains calmly. "Not to my face. I overheard him say it to his teacher."

Alfred hums. "Could mean nothing."

That's...true. Dick may have used the term as shorthand. "Dad" is easier to say than "legal guardian" and more specific and personal than "Bruce." It could have been a Freudian slip, Dick's mind supplying him with a cognitive shortcut subconsciously. Bruce sets his tea down and stares into the liquid.

"Or," Alfred presses on (Bruce hates the way his heart lifts a little), "he is starting to see you – us – as his family." Alfred sips and watches him.

"That's what I'm afraid of," he admits after a while. "Alfred, I'm not – Dick deserves so much better than –"

When it's clear that Bruce won't finish the sentence, Alfred clears his throat gently. "If I may, I'd like to share a secret with you." Bruce nods. "There was a time that I considered leaving you."

Bruce's eyes widen. "What?"

Alfred nods. "I thought that after your parents, I was the last person who should raise a child, especially one who needed his world put back together. Surely the Kanes would have made better surrogates. Perhaps a foster if a suitable one could be found." He smirked. "I almost considered the Queens before that awful accident."

The blood is rushing in Bruce's ears. Alfred, his most loyal and longest friend, had wanted to leave him? "What changed?"

Alfred takes another sip, contemplates. "I don't think anything has. Everyday I wonder if I made the right choice. If I am being selfish staying in your life simply because I love you too much to let you go."

Again, Bruce's chest squeezes. Alfred, his Alfred, has the exact same fear. That somehow he'll fail his charge, will lose him. And all this time, Bruce has never considered going anywhere, can't imagine his life without Alfred in it. Maybe – is that how Dick feels? That Bruce is his? God, if that's true then...then Bruce as he is just has to be good enough. Because he's not going to let Dick go.

"My son," he says, testing the word. It tastes sweeter than the tea on his tongue.

#bruce wayne #dick grayson #good dad bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #ficlet #i wrote this instead of sleeping

74 notes · View notes

unconventional-user · 5 months ago

Text

Statuesque

I'm crawling out the sewers to re-introduce myself. Plus new blog yay!

König and Reader are relatively almost the same height SO I DONT WANNA HEAR NO CANON THAT READER IS 5 FOOT SOMETHING NO THEYRE LIKE 6'5 HELL PROBABLY EVEN TALLER-

Anyways, as you can tell I know nothing about the military nor COD, only what I've read and seen. Shoot me. Reader is intended to be gn overall but correct me in case.

pairing: könig x tall!reader

warning(s): uhhhh idk, kinda sucks? (I tried)

word count: 2.7k

* This work was created by @unconventional-user, no re-post(s), you may, however, re-blog. Thank you. *

'How tall are you?'

'Are you a basketball player?'

'Do you wear heels?'

'How's the weather up there?'

These questions were a constant occurrence whenever leave took place. It was a reminder how annoying and entitled people were at times.

Luckily, deployment had come quickly most times, so you wouldn't have to deal with them often.

It's not like there was anything to head back to when 'off duty' anyway.

Parents were several countries overseas as well as other family, friends, and folk. So being called back often wasn't a rare occurrence nor was it annoying...

After joining the Air Force, it was expected of your squadron to work alongside certain groups. You happened to be the lucky few that helped aid the Special Air Services pretty often. It was mainly with transports as well as to help fly troops on missions.

It was nice. Some of the best times honestly.

Britain was a really cool place too.

But the constant travelling back and fourth, US to UK kind of left this uncertainty of which place was your 'true' home.

Almost like an identity crisis sort of.

So after some thinking and request of separation, you moved countries alongside joining the British Army.

Many more years later you're a part of the Special Air Services.

You could say the years in the Air Force might've helped a bit by leaving such positive feedback to them when SAS asked about their new soldier.

Judging from their background, they described as if the "golden child" for helicopter pilots was amongst them:

A once in a lifetime.

A relic of some sorts.

A phenomen.

According to them, you knew how to maneuver the damn chopper 'as if you built it yourself'.

Thus becoming a well recognized name amongst the special forces more specifically.

You'd like to thank the impeccable flying skills for landing you on such a radar.

Still, most of your work went unnoticed the first couple of years in SAS til' they eventually caught someone's eye later on:

"That's some amazing skills there—hello, we haven't met. My name is Kate."

The communication analyst would keep in touch with you after that. She claimed a specific task force officer asked for your wings.

"You know how to maneuver a helicopter better than anyone I've seen in a while. And I'm not the only one who's seen you in action."

Years pass after that, you're still on par with transporting soldiers and the Task Force 141, means you must be doing something right…right?

Shaking off the commotion of thoughts, you drove till the view of a familiar, bordered gateway appeared.

Upon entry, it was time to head over to your station.

Some inspections and loadings later, a shout was heard from afar. Turning towards the culprit, it was none other than Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish.

"Long time no see, aye bonnie?"

Leaning against the rails of the helicopter, he gave a smile. In return you gave one back as you finished clearing the aircraft as: PASS.

"Good afternoon, Sergeant," you chuckled, "I believe I saw you yesterday."

Ignoring the matter-of-fact, he continued on, "Call me Soap. Remember, yer one of us."

Smiling awkwardly, you pretend to re-inspect one of the throttles once again.

To be 'considered' a part of task 141 was…a weird feat or way to put it overall. You were in their squadron as their pilot, but you weren't necessarily with them. You weren't a part of their briefings or any of that.

You were separate from them.

The only one who really 'considered' you as part was Sergeant MacTavish.

Not to say the others were assholes or something. Lieutenant Ghost often would brief a 'good job' or 'nice maneuvering' to you once in a while.

Sergeant Garrick and Captain Price also acknowledged you from time to time, always greeting when deemed necessary.

To put it into simple words…they like your flying skills. You're like a designated pilot for them sort of.

'Way to make it sound like you're just a chauffeur-'

Shaking the thoughts aside once more, you focused on what Johnny said.

"Come again, Sergeant?"

The man chuckled, shaking his head but repeated himself once more. He always found you cute yet attractive. A true bonnie. These small actions never ceased to add to his attraction towards you.

Plus, he liked them tall. He could only imagine you in heels now…

"Wait…so you guys are gonna team up with a whole 'nother group for the mission?" You asked.

Great. Now he had to shake his thoughts aside. Clearing his throat, Johnny nodded.

"Price got told he needed backup for this one. Apparently it's too risky to go alone."

"Sounds rough."

"Aye, Ghost ain't too fond of the idea either."

Didn't look like he was too happy about the situation as well.

Nodding, you understood the lieutenant's 'worry' about being aided by a private contractor unit. Another responsibility and potential liability overall.

Trying to look on the bright side of things, at least they'll be more careful.

"Well…better safe than sorry, right? Plus you guys won't be so bored on the ride there!" You internally cringed at your feeble attempt to cheer the man up.

Hey, at least it made him laugh though.

"Ye ready to deal wit' another crew of dafties 'en, bonnie?"

Laughing, you closed the door to the aircraft.

"I'll see you in a bit, las."

The briefing ends; said Austrian begins heading towards the designated lockers.

Kortac had been called back by the SAS, unsurprisingly. They’d worked alongside the particular military service before (more than a few times).

The report claimed a certain special ops unit would need some assistance on an important mission. The team was ordered to help aid as a “battering ram” of sorts, both pre and post mission.

Of course they knew just who to send alongside for additional aid to the team.

König rolled his eyes, slamming the locker in frustration. He really didn’t want to be here at all. In his eyes, he was assisting a potential enemy. The SAS wasn’t necessarily a foe to KorTac, but it’s not like they were allies either.

So case in point (to König), he was being forced to help the potential enemy.

There were other soldiers sent alongside König. One of them looked over at him, an eyebrow raised, “Alles gut?”

König looked over at the soldier and said nothing, hood completely concealing his annoyed face. He’d rather be anywhere else than here if he’s being honest.

Heading towards the helipad, where he’d meet the rest of his ‘team’ mates, König tripled checked his tactical gear on him before stepping onto the designated helicopter.

His eyes narrowed onto a familiar face—or rather a mask—he had met before. Ghost simply responded back to König’s hostile stare vice versa. Neither said anything, but sat on opposite sides of one another.

No mind was paid to the rest that got onto the helicopter, except for Sergeant MacTavish, who made his entrance known with a hearty laugh followed by an annoyed looking Sergeant Garrick.

After the rest got settled in, Captain Price stood center and went over some key details again, mainly about KorTac’s assistance on the mission. König felt someone’s eyes on him as a chill ran along his neck. He turned his head and saw the same soldier from earlier at the lockers move to sit next to him. Said soldier looked away nervously to avoid the blue eyes.

Komisch. König narrowed his eyes in confusion, but remained silent overall. He felt the soldier lean in, “Is this your first time working with them?” They then gestured their head towards Task force 141. König didn’t acknowledge them and remained quiet. Looking away, he ignored the huff of the—now annoyed— soldier.

“Ist mir doch...”

König ignored the subliminal guilt he felt by acting like he didn’t hear the soldier’s mutterings. Trying to distract himself, he re-checked his tactical gear.

Knife is attached to his side. His tourniquet was in place, perfectly positioned if needed. He had 2 extra stocks on his left thigh—

Thoughts were interrupted as 2 pairs of feet stepped onto the helicopter and the doors were closed. König looked up and he swore he heard himself swallow back a gulp. Thank whatever is up there that he had his hood concealing his face. König could feel his face becoming warm.

Completely ignoring the other pilot officer greeting the team, his eyes focused on you.

Who were you?

You seemed to be standing at almost—if not the same—height as König,

He absolutely loved that.

Eyes fell onto your hands, noticing the lack of a band surrounding it, which he also seemed to love.

He was unsure if he had a visceral reaction to your presence but it felt like when people saw color for the first time. He felt the need to hide his flustered face (even though the hood already does that for him).

Du siehst bezaubernd aus.

He thought, eyes not leaving your form.

As you and the other pilot head towards the cockpit, he couldn't help but ponder.

Was that what many consider ‘love at first sight'? Him? In love?

The idea seemed almost laughable, mainly because he didn't think he could ever imagine him even having the courage to even attempt to pursue someone. Let alone have someone finding him worth being with.

König (sadly) broke his stare by looking at the soldier who jabbed his shoulder. Bothered, he turned towards them with narrowed eyes.

Grinning, the soldier commented, "As they say in America; statuesque."

Stepping towards the helicopter, you could feel your mind calm down. You knew exactly what to do. Tis the moment. You're in the zone.

Ew. That’s literally so cheesy.

You thought as you covered your hand to hide the growing smile.

Your co-pilot turned over at you, “Everything ok?” he asked, confused.

Putting a hand down, you nodded, “Yep. Just…thinking of something.”

He gave you an odd look but didn't perpetuate any further, simply muttering under his breath, “...How’d I get stuck with the tall weirdo?”

You pretend not to hear that, letting out a sigh and stepping onto the helicopter.

The co-pilot flashed everyone a tight-lipped smile as eyes fell onto him first, “Proud to be working with everyone here.” But eyes quickly fell onto the person looming over him.

That person being you.

With a flashed smile and wave, you greeted them, “I’m going to be your eyes in the skies today.”

The assisting team nodded a ‘Yes Officer’ your way. Nodding to the group, you observed them until one of them caught your eye.

The moment your eyes landed on the gentleman in the hood suddenly time had stopped, not noticing when he looked back either. His eyes widened whilst looking like he had choked on the air or something.

He looked a little bit taller than you—only a little—which almost never happens.

He was also oddly cute (considering he had a full on sack over his head).

Suddenly self conscious about appearance, you straighten up and try to hide the blush apparent on your face. If it's obvious, nobody dares say anything.

It probably didn't help that he was staring back at you as well. Interlocked, neither breaking eye-contact till the soldier next to him nudged his shoulder.

Luckily, you were able to gather yourself and head into the cockpit. It seemed like the others had disappeared, leaving only you and him. But you surged on, unaware of eyes following your direction.

Finally out of sight, you were able to find your footing and headed towards the left.

Your co-pilot sat to your right.

Alright, it’s go time.

Snorting, you muttered, “...still so cheesy.”

“Huh?” the co-pilot turned.

“Nothing!”

It was finally over. The mission was done. You could feel the relief washing over as you were able to land on the helipad again.

No casualties (thankfully), except for 2 soldiers who were grazed by bullets. One of them being Ghost, who had apparently saved one of the other soldiers who were shot.

You still remembered upon landing to reach them on the field, Ghost was angrily dragging the other wounded soldier by the vest, holding his shoulder in the process.

One soldier yanked out a med kit as another snatched them away from the lieutenant.

The shouting could be heard from the cockpit as you flew away. You and your co-pilot ignored it and continued to flee the warzone.

As you were able to land, you slowly started feeling at ease.

Even though you’ve been flying for years, the adrenaline and anxiety was still the same every time.

The difficulty was always trying to shake the feeling of nerves off. A good cigarette always seems to ease them away. Speaking of which…

You reached into your lower back pocket; you cursed when you didn’t feel any familiar shaped boxed. Must’ve left the pack in your locker. Luckily, it wasn’t too far.

Headed towards said lockers, someone had walked next to you. Upon looking, no words were exchanged as you were side-to-side with the extremely tall soldier.

You expected him to say something. He didn’t. Simply continue to walk.

You decided to do so instead.

“Hello.”

The hooded man faced you this time with flat eyes. You stopped walking, so did he. Gulping down the nervousness, you took a good look at him.

He was taller than you, even if it was by a couple inches only. He was still taller than you.

“Sorry for bothering but…” chewing on your lip (which he definitely looked at), you confessed, “...I've never seen someone as tall—hell—taller than me. So I just wanted to introduce myself.”

You tell him your name, trying not to seem so upfront about it. He continues to look on for a while, in which you think maybe he didn’t want to talk to you at all.

“König.” is all he (manages to) says and continues to walk (although appearing dull looking towards you, he was internally sweating bullets as well).

“...Well König…I was wondering…if you would like to…maybe hangout, tonight. I'm actually going out to head for some drinks tonight and I thought…” you chuckled nervously while trying not to mumble, he however, cut you off.

“What?” König asked in what seemed an annoyed tone.

Not to him though, he just seemed weary about strangers, plus he didn't really know how to act around someone he seemed to have a crush on. He didn't even think he sounded rude about it.

Which was the problem.

You quickly explained to him, “Well…we don't have to. I swear I just wanted to offer maybe I thought you'd be interested-”

He cut you off again, “Why would I want to spend my time with you?”

Oh god König. If only he knew just how bad he was fucking this up.

Swallowing, you looked away from said man, “Um…nevermind I didn't mean to disturb you, please, forget I ever bothered you haha…” you slowly drifted off, trying to hide the wobble in your lip.

Forcing a smile you began to walk away from him.

König’s eyes widened as you began to walk away.

No. No. No. Nein. Nein-

Was tust du?! He thought as he saw your lips wobble.

Do something before they leave!

“Wait!” He blurted out. This time he didn't seem to care that the surrounding soldiers looked at him.

But when you turned around however, he felt his stomach flutter.

Oh shit now what-

He didn’t know what to say now. So he simply just walked up, grabbed both of your shoulders and explained how he’d love to go out for drinks.

Motivated, you just looked up at him, the genuine smile creeping back onto your face, “Really?”

König felt himself freeze, but nodded regardless:

“Ja.”

“Okay, great…Amazing!” Giving him the details, you headed towards the lockers, the–now–lovestruck smile on your face. König waved until he realized what he just did.

He agreed to go out for drinks. With you.

With you.

What was his issue then? Nothing was wrong with you.

But you wanna go out with him. Him.…now that's a different story.

He was freaking out–not that anyone could tell–König stood still in one spot, till the hand on his shoulder broke him out of it. It was the previous soldier from before:

“Gut?” they tried asking König again, who narrowed his eyes back at them.

“Ja.”

Can you tell this was rushed and kinda a little self indulgent? Yeah, now I feel kinda cringe. Also didn't mean to cut it off so suddenly, maybe to be continued? Maybe.

74 notes · View notes

melon-fodder · 6 months ago

Text

SUCKER FOR YOU • T. Hiragi

Summary: A sweetly stupid misunderstanding.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: slightly possessive behavior, established relationship, brief argument, mentions of violence, suggestive themes but no explicit smut, one mention of reader’s cleavage, Kaji’s cooties lol

Note: I just had a little idea and then yeah. Here 💚

“—so how about you keep your fucking mouth shut, and sit your ass down ‘cause you don’t know shit about m—”

You choke, icy words getting shoved back into your throat as sugar suddenly hits your tongue—“mmf!”

“Yeah, you better shut that bitch up,” the man in front of you smirks triumphantly, and you’re about to spit the candy out to shoot back another scathing response, but Kaji fists a hand in your jacket and tugs, muttering under his breath the whole time.

“Stupid fucking prick—no idea what he’s talkin’ about, needs his ass beat. Lucky I didn’t tell him to bite the fucking curb…” Everything he usually hides behind his signature suckers.

Except now said sucker is in your mouth—or was, until you took it out, leaving him free to grumble and swear as he pulls you away from the fucker who had cat-called you only to turn around and insult you when you ignored him.

“Please tell me this wasn’t just in your mouth,” you frown, eyeing the lollipop that is definitely not straight out of the wrapper.

“I think the word you’re looking for is thanks,” Kaji huffs, growling when you toss the candy in the nearest trash can. “Wasteful.”

“That was gross.”

“Wasteful and ungrateful.”

If you were feeling more dramatic, you would make a show of scraping your tongue off, but you’re still too mad about everything that shitty stranger was saying.

“I could’ve handled it,” you mumble.

“Sure you could. I’m positive you could have overpowered that six-foot, two-fifty pound punk.”

“Exactly. He was just a punk.”

Kaji tsks, pulling out a fresh sucker and unwrapping it. “You know Hiragi would beat me to a pulp if I let you get hurt.”

True. But first he would have knocked every single one of that cat-calling asshole’s teeth in.

The thought makes you smile. Your boyfriend’s long legs, the way his boot would look making harsh contact with that fucker’s jaw. His furrowed eyebrows, angry, gravelly voice… God, he’s so hot.

“Fine,” you concede, “thanks for interfering, I guess.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kaji grunts, lifting a hand to usher you up the stairs of your apartment where said hot boyfriend should now be waiting.

“I can find my way home from here,” you joke, taking the first few steps. “Don’t think you wanna be around for what’s about to happen.”

He only responds with a monotone, “gross,” and a wrinkled nose before turning and walking away.

About as friendly as a wet cat, that one, but you’re still quite fond of him.

“Baby?” you call once you’re inside, kicking off your shoes and dropping your keys on the catchall.

“In the kitchen,” Hiragi answers, smiling when you round the corner. “Hey, you.”

You grin, wrap your arms around his neck— “hey, yourself,” —before pressing your lips against his.

He hums, tossing the dish towel onto the counter next to some still-wet plates, in favor of pulling you a little closer. His tongue traces the seam of your lips, slipping past to taste you, but he quickly leans back with a look of confusion.

“What’s that taste?” He licks his lips a couple times as if to get a better sample, and you start to laugh only to realize he actually sounds a little upset when he asks, “is that one of Kaji’s suckers?”

“Yeah, funny story—”

“Were you kissing him? Was he kissing you?”

It comes out so quickly and so genuine that you’re completely taken aback. That’s the first place his mind goes to?!

“Excuse me?”

You take about five steps back, eyes ready to pop out of your damn head. “You taste something sweet and immediately think I’ve been makin’ out with your best friend? What the hell, Ragi?”

He scowls. Not at you, just in general, gaze focused somewhere over your head.

“I—” Putting his massive hands out in front of him as if to steady himself, Hiragi takes a deep breath then grits out, “I’m sorry. It’s been a weird couple of days. And, I haven’t been able to spend time with you.” His words are short. Clipped. Overly enunciated as if he’s practiced this.

Which you know he has. Hiragi can be a little hotheaded (and very loud), and when the two of you first started dating you had explicitly told him it was something you wouldn’t respond well to.

So he tries. He tries to catch himself before he starts shouting.

But sometimes he says the most out of pocket shit like this and you’re the one who wants to scream.

“Lemme get this straight.” You cock your hip out, hand resting on it, and you squint at your handsome, loving, stupid boyfriend. “You’re annoyed that we haven't been able to hang out. And to remedy that you’re… accusing me of cheating?”

Hiragi gulps, features softening into something less predator and more prey. You must be giving him that look—the one he both loves and hates.

“When you put it like that it sounds dumb.”

“Because it is dumb! Babe, I like Kaji n’ all, but I barely know the dude.”

“Then, how’d his taste end up in your mouth?” He questions, a matter-of-fact tone edging into his voice until you snort in amusement. “That sounded—I didn’t mean—”

“Should I be worried about you making out with Kaji?” you tease.

The heat of what could have been a massive argument has dissipated, which is usually how these things go between you.

“What? No!”

Are you irritated at the fact that your boyfriend just assumed you’d been having secret romps with his friend? Yes. Are you delighted at how sheepish he looks now that he’s come back to his senses? Absolutely.

“Are you sure? He is quite pretty,” you push one last time before stepping back over to Hiragi and wrapping your arms around him once again. “You’re an idiot sometimes.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I just. The thought was in my head, and then it just came out like fuckin’ bile.”

“Yeah, unfortunately your pills only cover gas, bloating, and indigestion. Gotta find something else for word-vomit.”

“Yeah, yeah, shuttup,” he mumbles into your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You suck your teeth, wiggle out of his grip. “You’re not very good at apologizing.”

Hiragi tilts his head to the side, eyes drifting from your flushed face downward, his expression darkening just enough to notice.

“I could have been in real trouble today, ya know,” you tell him, slowly making your way out of the kitchen and toward the bedroom all while recalling the earlier events with just a touch of added sass. “Had some big, scary man shout all kinds of mean things at me, and then when I tried to stand up for myself your friend just shoved some candy in my mouth. Rude.”

You smile at the sound of his heavy footfall landing behind you, and you make yourself comfortable on the bed, spreading out then welcoming his weight on top of you.

“It was all very frightening,” you finish with a grin.

Hiragi mouths over your collarbones, kisses the bit of cleavage that your tank-top leaves exposed.

“Bet it was,” he hums, not believing you for a second as he starts scooting down your body. “M’sorry, baby.”

“If only there was a way to push these dreadful memories to the back of my head,” you sigh dramatically, throwing an arm over your face.

He chuckles, “you’re so full of shit,” before sinking his teeth into your thigh.

For the next half hour, Hiragi helps you forget and more than makes up for his previous unfounded accusation. How can you stay mad when he looks the way he does and can do that with his tongue? Impossible.

It’s a happy coincidence that the following day when you and Hiragi are out and about in town you happen upon the same man who had whistled at you, and you’re pleasantly surprised to find that he’s even more of a dumbass than you had already assumed.

“Got a new handler today, bitch?” He laughs like he just made the funniest joke to ever be heard, and you smile at the same time Hiragi’s spine goes rigid.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

Unfazed, you dig around in your purse until your hand closes around a familiar shape. Hiragi bows up to your little friend who looks a lot less confident now, and you just watch—unwrapping a pink lollipop and popping it between your lips just as your boyfriend breaks the poor bastard’s jaw with nothing but his fist.

Yummy.

#hiragi x reader #toma hiragi x reader #wind breaker x reader #winbre x reader

115 notes · View notes

amywritesthings · 1 year ago

Text

SILVER UNDERGROUND / deleted scene 01.

levi's pov #1. :: a deleted scene from chapter one. this is an alternate pov of levi's first conversation with james in the trost hospital.

happy silver underground eve! i thought i could give you all a little treat for the very first edition of additional SU content. this is a special levi-only drabble covering his pov when james first wakes up. i wrote it to better understand his own head while writing james' pov, but it wasn't necessary for the final draft. apologies for the pain, my dears. xo this is unedited. 1.8k words / angst, language, mentions of self hatred. :: please remember: this is additional content. nothing in the deleted drabbles are tied to the main content/overall final storyline.

He doesn’t bother knocking.

Levi can’t, not when you’ve been awake for twenty minutes. Twenty whole minutes where he wasn’t there. Twenty fucking minutes where you were alone, lying in a hospital cot, confused and out of sorts and more than likely asking for him.

He was supposed to be there.

He just didn’t think today would be the day it finally happened.

As he rushes through the hallways of the Trost District hospital, he tries to keep his face neutral. You’re going to need one hell of a recovery period, so he’s going to need to be strong — to hold true to his twilight promises he made six months ago, come what may.

According to Hange, you’d already been gone for several minutes by that time. That didn’t stop him from talking to you through the entire surgery prep process like you could hear him anyway. They’re cutting your shirt now. They’re setting up the blood bag. I’ll sit here all damn day hooked up to it if you need more.

(For someone notorious for silence, he sure had a lot of promises ready on his tongue.)

The door of the medical wing swings wide, and he could fall to his knees then and there: you’re sitting. For fuck’s sake, you’re actually sitting.

You look sickly, disoriented, but your eyes dart across the room towards the sudden intrusion. Your chest rises and falls in your gown. Your fingers are moving just fine.

He can’t say anything — he’s a goddamn coward waiting for the other shoe to drop in this miraculous awakening.

“Captain Levi!”

Doctor Rini’s voice calls to him, but the captain notices immediately that you don’t turn to the doctor. No. Your eyes never leave him, and it’s…

Blank.

Maybe you’re just exhausted.

Maybe you’re not quite here in the present yet.

“Doctor,” he replies, clipped to avoid emotion.

“I sent Nurse Phillipa to find you,” Doctor Rini exhales with anxiety.

“I was found.” Levi locks onto sarcasm as a defense mechanism. If it wasn’t for the good doctor, he’d already have been at the foot of your bedside. Begging for forgiveness is hardly enough. I’m sorry. “So?” I’m so sorry. “Tired of sleeping yet, or are we looking at six more months of winter?”

If you’re James, then you’ll tell him that you’d take another six months to avoid him.

If you’re still you, then you’ll tease that his left hand is trembling.

But you stare.

That’s it — that’s all you do.

Stare, and stare, and stare.

“You only look like total shit,” he continues with a snort, “so I guess that’s a good thing.”

“Captain—”

“Apologies for Levi’s intrusion, Doctor Rini.” Your attention turns when Erwin enters the room. Levi almost wants to demand you keep your eyes on him — look at me, James — but the commander speaks for the both of you. “Nurse Phillipa was able to locate me in my office. I had to retrieve Captain Levi personally. Is it alright if we come in, or is she not yet lucid?”

Of course she’s fucking lucid. She’s right here.

Levi takes a few steps forward, tightening his trembling hand into a fist to keep it concealed.

“She is… lucid, Commander.” The doctor stops there. There’s a but coming — he can feel it.

Levi doesn’t like this, not one fucking bit.

“But?” he snaps, glaring the doctor’s way for the first time since he burst into the room.

The doctor sighs with sadness then gestures towards the fallen lieutenant.

“Lieutenant, state your name.”

What?

Levi can’t help how fast his attention whips towards you. His stomach drops to the floor, digging itself into the dirt. You look… scared?

You shouldn’t be scared. He’s here. He promised he’d be here.

“...you originally stated she suffered a major concussion,” Erwin says.

“Yes, I did,” the doctor agrees, “and I also stated on the report that the probability of temporary to permanent post-traumatic memory damage was high.”

You have to be fucking joking.

Erwin states it in plain terms: “In other words, sustained amnesia.”

The fist at his side painfully tightens, his trimmed nails pushing into calloused skin. He sets his jaw, forcing himself to breathe through his nose.

“It never said anything about permanent,” Levi growls, pushing forward away from the doctor, away from the commander, to talk to you himself. Erwin’s fingertips touch his shoulder as if to dissuade him, but there’s nothing — absolutely nothing — that will keep him from this.

There’s no way it’s sustained.

Confusion in the beginning, maybe, but you just needed to talk a little. He’d show them both.

The visitor’s chair screeches against the floor until it hits the edge of your bed. You’re still doe-eyed and lost, lips parted like you’re wanting to speak — he can help. You two practically grew up with the same half-baked brain cell.

“Where are we?” Levi asks, leaning forward in his seat. He stares up at you with a hidden layer of affection, willing for the James he knows — the James he’s always known — to see.

I’m here. Look at me, James, I promised I’d be here.

“Levi,” Erwin warns. He doesn’t get it.

Levi nods his chin, albeit barely. “Answer the question.”

You pause, fidgeting in that way when you’re nervous. “I… don’t know.”

“You do know,” he urges.

“I don’t.”

“Where — are — we?”

“Stohess District?” you guess. It’s not that far off. Maybe he’s not being forceful enough.

“Try again, dumbass.”

Wrong idea — your eyes widen like you’d never been more insulted in your life. He’s jokingly called you worse. “Excuse me?”

“Levi.” Erwin again.

Levi refuses. “What’s this building called?”

“I said I don’t know,” you plead, and your voice sounds so small that it breaks his heart.

“Do you know what titans are?”

“Of course I know what the fuck titans are.”

His heart flutters at your swear. You’re not entirely lost. “Good. And do you know what the Survey Corps is?”

“Yes, why does this matter?”

“Do you know where you’re from?” If he wasn’t in control, then he’d reach out to your hand. Cup your cheek. Swear on heaven and Earth that you know this one — you just need a little more time. You need to try a little harder.

Yet your shoulders slack. “I don’t.”

Levi’s face drops, his voice taking a sharper edge by accident. “You do. You just aren’t trying hard enough.”

Maybe insults will work.

Maybe spilling his guts of all of his darkest secrets will help.

He’s a man falling through space and time itself, willing the past not to condemn him right now. He’s sinned a great deal in his life, but that doesn’t mean you should suffer for it, too.

Because you know. You know, you know, you know—

“I am trying, asshole,” you hiss, and his face lights up for just a moment.

There you are. There’s that fire. Fight — fight for this, fight with me, just fight.

“Levi,” Erwin interrupts, “that’s enough.”

Maybe it is enough.

Maybe you can rest and try tomorrow, to let you sit in this mental darkness for a little more time, but he’s waited six long months for this.

“So that’s it, then, huh?”

Levi dares to poke at the wound just one more time. You always worked best when adrenaline courses through your veins. That’s why you two were so perfect.

“You’re going to lay down and happily take being a nameless has-been after being stuck in a coma for months?”

But it was the wrong wound.

He regrets his strategy as soon as you look horrified, and he doesn’t have time to quell your fears. Your trust turns to Erwin for the truth. “It’s been months?!”

The fire dies. You’re terrified in this bed, one hiccup away from a panic attack, and Levi is powerless to fight it for you. Erwin takes over and the captain is glad for it — he’s a stone’s throw away from begging.

Come back to me. It was too much to ask of you, but he was selfish enough to ask on your near death bed anyway. Come back to me, James, or I’ll fucking drag you back myself.

But you’re not you.

You’re not you, and he’s the reason for it.

The captain chooses silence as he watches your face, memorizing the slopes of your face. His heart clenches with the hard decision in front of him: Erwin has a clearer head for this. He’s so blinded by his guilt that he’s already hurt you in the first hour of your revival.

Maybe this is his punishment for dragging you into all of this in the first place.

From the Underground City to Hell on Earth, he is the reckoning of your demise.

I think I’d remember the name of this piece of shit — in this case, you mean him.

You’re right. He is a piece of shit.

He is a danger to you.

You are in the middle of talking to Erwin when he abruptly stands from his chair, the wooden legs scraping sickeningly across the floor. Everything is underwater. He feels like his body is shutting down, so he does what he has to:

He turns to leave.

Facing the entrance, he drops his chin to his chest with a defeatist attitude. “This is a waste of time,” he urges the commander, relenting just one moment where he admits he’s fucked this up.

He’s not the right person for this, even if he’s always been your person.

He’s not the right guide to help you, even if all he’s ever done is hold your hand.

Maybe this is fate.

Maybe this is the second chance he’s always wanted for you — one without the Scouts, without running from the law, without looking over your shoulder.

Maybe Erwin will give you an honorable discharge so you can spend your days in the warmth of the sun.

He could live with that, even if he never sees you again.

“You’re always so quick to walk the fuck away.”

Suddenly his boot scuffs the floor.

His eyes shoot wide, staring at the floor ahead. There’s a splintered floor panel at the frame of the door he’s never noticed in the hundreds of times he’s come here.

For a moment he’s fooled. This could all be an elaborate trick to punish him for the shit he’s done in his life.

(Maybe you do remember, deep down somewhere he cannot follow yet.)

But you were right back then and you were right now: he is quick to walk away—

—if it means that he can't hurt you from this distance.

“I… didn’t mean to say that,” you correct quietly, and his face scrunches to battle the overwhelming bout of grief that washes over him. “I don’t know why I said that, sir. Forgive me.”

Sir.

Not Captain.

Not Ackerman.

Not Levi.

Before he can cause anymore damage, he walks out the door.

Erwin can take it from here.

#aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #amys deleted scenes.#fic: silver underground #levi ackerman x reader

199 notes · View notes

lightan117 · 2 months ago

Text

May I cut in?

**We all know that only the best Crows know how to dance. I'm also rearranging the romance progression. I felt like something like this should have happened before the first kiss, and then we got to the good stuff, like killing Zara and then the pantry scene! Also, I hate how Neve and Lucanis flirt with each other while I'm trying to romance this damn Crow, like pay attention to Rook! She's standing right there!

Warnings: None, but cute fluffy dancing. Rook can't flirt with a brick wall, and neither can I.

Pairings: Lucanis X (F) Mourn Watcher Rook

~oOo~

"Daisy, I have a slightly weird question if you're willing to humor me." Daisy looked up to find Bellara standing in front of her nervously.

"Sure, Bel, what can I help with?" Daisy set her mug aside and closed the book she was reading. Emmrich's room became her quiet little haven where she could read up on all the books she planned on reading before her banishment from the Necropolis. Thankfully, Emmrich brought more than enough to fill her free time while keeping her updated on all the latest news from home.

"You know how I'm writing my...story, right?" Bellara whispered the last past as if Emmrich couldn't hear her from where he was perched at the top of his winding staircase. Ever since Neve and she found Bellara's serials, the Veil jumper has expressed her desire to write her own. Daisy was very much in support of the idea, wishing that she and Harding were the first to read it once she was done.

"Is this a trick question?" Daisy giggled and leaned forward. "Bel, what's the matter?"

"I need some help writing a certain part, but I need...to kinda see it firsthand," Bellara said, pulling at her fingers and looking anywhere but the necromancer. The words came out without a second thought, and Daisy couldn't help but cover her ever-growing smile.

"Bellara Lutare, how shameful!" Daisy teased, causing Bellara's face to brighten a shade of pink. "I didn't know you needed to witness the act in person."

"No, that! Ugh, that's not what I meant!" Bellara stomped her foot, causing Daisy to chuckle even harder.

Daisy tried to collect herself. "I'm sorry, Bel. You walked right into that one, I'm afraid." Daisy stood and put her hands behind her. What do you need to witness firsthand?"

"Dancing."

"Dancing?"

"You know, fancy dancing!" Bellara said, pulling out her notebook to show some sketches of ballroom dancers. "I know you and Emmrich are probably the only ones who know how to fancy dance, so I was wondering if I could watch you guys dance—to take notes!"

"Who told you I know how to dance?" Daisy's eyes narrowed.

"Emmrich." There was a thump from above them, and they both lifted their heads to see Emmrich disappearing out of view.

"Grandpa, are you giving away mourn watcher secrets now?!" Daisy called up.

"Was it supposed to be a secret?! I didn't know! Wait, is it some secret-order ritual dance?! Do you dance with the dead?!" Bellara's voice got higher as the questions rattled off. Daisy couldn't help but watch as the Viel jumper got more and more excited as Emmrich descended the stairs.

"There are no secrets, Bellara; Daisy is only teasing. She, as always, has a flare for the dramatic when it comes to our order." Emmrich put the book in his hands on the side table. "Her time away has made her one with the riffraff outside Nevarra."

"That's not true; I still uphold everything a mourn watcher is." She leaned toward Bellara, her hand barely covering her mouth to hide her words. "We do dance with the dead, however. You should see how Vorgoth dances."

"Daisy!" Emmrich scolded his fellow necromancer as Bellara took out her notebook to start making notes.

"It's true professor. Why deny it now?" Emmrich looked like he had sucked on a lemon which caused the two ladies to chuckle. "Yes, Bel, we both know how to; what did you call it? Fancy dance?"

"The Mourn Watch does hold occasional balls and soiréesbut there are no grand affairs. The gentry and nobility of Nevarra will invite certain Mourn Watchers to attend in case one of their attendings happens to pass on during the excitement." Emmrich said with a whorl of his hand.

"When I was younger and could attend these parties, my mother brought me to one. It was Nevarran beetle-themed, so everyone wore the most colorful costumes and fancy headpieces. The shoes were horrible and very ugly. The host father was up in his age and was expected to die relatively soon, so my mother was called to attend. Little did we know that he passed right into the punch bowl." Daisy giggled as Bellara's jaw hit the floor in shock. Emmrich pinched the bridge of his nose as Daisy's candor.

"In the punch bowl?!"

"Face first, and surprisingly, he remained standing until someone noticed." Daisy composed herself from her giggles. "They did change the punch after they took his body away."

"THEY KEPT THE BOWL!?"

"Shall we continue our prior discussion?" Emmrich looked between the two, expressing how much we wished to change the topic. Bellara, of course, went on about how one of her serials had this romantic ballroom scene where the heroine danced with the prince, but the prince didn't know it was the woman he was looking for. Veil jumpers have more lively dances without all the frilly dresses. She wanted to see the dancing in person so she could take notes on how the pair interacted with each other. "I would be happy to lend a hand, Bellara. As long as Daisy here is agreeable to be my partner." Emmrich gave a bow and held out his hand to Daisy.

Daisy giggled and took his hand, "Of course, Professor Volkarin. It would be my honor." Bellara squealed in delight and said the perfect place would be the open area in front of the kitchen. She then ran out the door, exclaiming all the way until the pair could no longer hear her.

"Are you going to be alright, my dear? I saw you wince again the other day." Emmrich asked once Bellara had left. It's been a couple of weeks since Daisy's impalement with venatori daggers. The wounds have healed, but occasionally, Daisy would move in a particular direction, causing her to wince at a painful tug inside her.

"My insides are still a little sore, but nothing I can't handle. Just don't toss me in the air, and I'll be fine." Daisy patted his arm affectionately. "Shall I change into one of my dresses for Bellara? For accuracy?" Daisy teased.

"I think that will be a splendid idea! I'll change into my second-best robes. Manfred!" Emmrich turned around and began getting himself ready. Of course, he could take her suggestion seriously. Daisy rolled her eyes as she left the necromancers' room. Inside her room, Daisy pulled out one of the most recent dresses her mothers had sent her. After her near-death experience, Daisy's mothers immediately had her visit the Necropolis once she was steady on her feet to meet them.

She was given an earful.

Thankfully, Emmrich and Taash were with her during the interaction, or else Daisy would have self-destructed then and there. Valentina was in a fine mood, informing her child how reckless she was to throw herself in danger in front of DAGGERS and expecting Daisy to be fine, even though her mother would not have known what would have happened to her. The rant lasted ten minutes before Catalina stepped in, bringing her child into her arms. Valentina, the taller lady of the group, joined in, wrapping her arms around them. The women embraced, wiped tears from their eyes, and made Daisy swear to be less reckless if she could help. Daisy also expressed that she will be informed next time she attaches a sending crystal to one of her ear cuffs, the charm becoming one of her most used accessories. Valentina said nothing before asking her partner to retrieve the package they had brought for their daughter. Wrapped in brown paper was a dress in a beautiful olive green color in a fun vine fabric at the top with a corset waistband.

You never know when you might need one. Catalina whispered to her with a wink that filled Daisy with dread. She might have said too much about her feelings about some or one of her companions. Along the dress were other products for her to use while on her journey.

"No time like now, I guess," Daisy muttered to herself before changing.

Outside of the dining hall, Emmrich and Bellara waited. Taash and Harding were also there, along with Davrin, who sat on the steps leading to his room. Lucanis and Neve were nowhere to be found...again. Lately, the two have been spending more time together, which sends Daisy's mind reeling with each thought. Even though Daisy has never been in a relationship, she tried to show her interest in Lucanis whenever they were together. She always sought him out to check in on him and Spite when they were at the Lighthouse; she helped him in the kitchen or kept him company.

Daisy can't flirt with a brick wall but tries with Lucanis.

The Crow has been nothing but kind to her, despite the little hiccup with Spite trying to leave the Lighthouse on his own, and Daisy feels or rather hopes that he sees her as someone he can trust. Being locked away, tortured, and saddled with a spirit of Spite would have broken anyone but not him. Daisy admired his courage and hope for tomorrow. His hope gave her her own strength. She's given him gifts of friendship, but she wanted to show Lucanis that she also pays attention to him, including his likes and dislikes, his hope for Treviso and his family, and his struggles with Spite. Daisy sees Lucanis and is not afraid.

When Lucanis is with Never, or she overhears their banter, Daisy's mouth turns sour, her stomach is in knots, and she feels her face burn. Thoughts echo from the past behind her, whispers that degrade her and make her feel small. How could she ever compare to Neve? Neve is beautiful and intelligent, and everything Daisy is not.

"Seems we have an audience, Emmrich," Daisy said as she stepped closer to the group.

"Clean up nice, Rook." Taash complimented. Taash is one of the few companions who doesn't call Daisy by her real name on occasion. When pressed, Taash said it sounded cooler, but that doesn't mean Daisy isn't a great name. Daisy laughed and said Rook definitely sounded better than a weed.

"Why, thank you, Taash. I was trying to be sarcastic with Emmrich, but he took me too literally. I can't have my professor showing me up, can I?" Daisy teased as she approached Emmrich.

"My dear, no one can show you up." Emmrich took her hand and kissed the back of it. "You are far more stunning than myself. I would have suggested different shoes."

Daisy looked down at her feet, her boots sticking from under her dress. "Like I have heels stored away here. Besides, you should really save those compliments for Strife, you know." Daisy stunned the necromancer into silence with a wink. With that, Emmrich called over Bellara to have her watch where they put each other's hands (Taash provided commentary along that way). He then explained that the waltz is the most effortless dance that most ballroom dancing shows. It is one of the best dances for beginners to know first. This brings about an appropriate visual, as the waltz resembles the look of a revolving circle of dancers flowing around the floor.

"Now, with a waltz, here are the steps. This is as the leader. First, stand with your feet hip distance apart and step forward with the left foot while moving your body in the direction of your left foot. Then, you move your right foot sideways to the right. Bring your left foot next to your right foot so your feet are parallel and nearly touching." Emmrich spoke the steps without a partner to show Bellara the footwork first. "Take a step back with your right foot. Then, take a single step with your left foot that moves you back and sideways to the left. Move your right foot to your left so your feet are parallel and nearly touching."

"Remember, The ballroom dance requires two people: one leads and one follows. To begin, both dancers stand about a foot apart, facing each other. The lead dancer places their right hand on the follower's left shoulder, and then the dance begins." Daisy stepped toward Emmrich. They stood a foot away, Emmrich giving a graceful bow while Daisy curtsied. A shy smile played on her lips as she placed her left hand on his shoulder. As Emmrich took her right hand in his, a thrill ran through her. The waltz began, and they moved as one, gliding and turning in perfect synchronicity. It's been forever since she's danced with anyone. Years. Even if Emmrich had caught her foot in the wrong position a few times, Emmrich's tisk-tisk made her pull a face.

Daisy could hear Bellara's giggles and some of the others talking, but there was one person she was missing. "Thinking of someone?" Emmrich asked. Daisy felt her face burn slightly.

"He doesn't see me like that, Emmrich. We're just friends." Daisy whispered. Emmrich hummed, his eyes catching something behind her shoulder. "I have a feeling he likes Neve more than me, and I can understand why."

"Oh my dear, I hightly doubt that. So you will have to forgive me for this, then." Emmrich said and spun Daisy from him into the arms of someone else. Her feet took a second to catch up with the shock going through her as her eyes locked with Lucanis. The stumble didn't stop the movement; it only brought them closer together as Lucanis took the lead from Emmrich.

"May I cut in?" His voice was deep, low, and dangerous. Daisy's heart pounded in her chest, and she swore that he could feel it. She could hear Emmrich talk to Bellara, describing the movement and how the pair were moving in sync. She was overjoyed, her scratching becoming louder and faster. Taash even stepped in, taking ahold of Harding to spin her around in their little corner. Their own giggles and laughter echoed around them.

Daisy's gaze remained locked with Lucanis's as they spun gracefully across the floor. The rest of the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two in their enchanted fade world. She could feel the warmth of his hand through the delicate fabric of her gown, and her breath caught in her throat at their closeness. "You look magnificent," Lucanis murmured, his voice low enough for only her to hear.

A blush crept up Daisy's cheeks. "Thank you," she replied softly. "You're quite dashing yourself."

Lucanis's lips curved into a tender smile that made her heart skip a beat. He guided her into a graceful twirl before pulling her back to him. Daisy's dress billowed out around her, and she felt a moment of pure, unbridled joy. "Thank my grandmother; she taught me how to dance. One of the few fond memories I have."

"My mother taught me how to dance. She said she refused to have me be an embarrassment on the dancefloor." Daisy giggled as once again Lucanis twirled her around.

"She taught you well." bringing her close, enjoying the flush in her cheeks.

"I never expected to discover that crows know how to dance."

"We still have many surprises to show you." Daisy's heart raced each time Lucanis twirled her, the warmth of his grasp sending electric shivers down her spine. Both of them wrapped in the cocoon of growing connection. With each turn and step, Daisy felt the weight of uncertainty lift. The gentle cadence of the dance ignited a spark within her—a wild exhilaration that sent her spinning. She watched Lucanis, his steady gaze filled with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. A sense of intimacy enveloped them both. Lucanis winced before shaking his head as if to clear someone away. "Mierda, Spite."

"Does Spite want to dance?" Daisy giggled, slightly moving the hand on his shoulder closer to his neck so that her finger slightly grazed it. "I am more than happy to teach him how."

"Perhaps another time, Tesoro. I'm quite enjoying myself at the moment." Lucanis voice made Daisy's legs once again start to feel weak as he looked at her. Oh, how she wanted him to keep looking at her like that. Unaware of them, everyone could feel the tension around the two, so they slowly filtered out, leaving them alone. "Spite does agree, you look...wonderful."

Daisy could feel the blush burn hotter on her skin. "Thank you, Lucanis. Slowly starting to feel it." The two continued twirling for a second more before they realized they were alone. "Did we scare everyone away?"

Lucanis halted their movement, removing his hand from her waist, but the one holding her hand remained. "Would you like some cioccolata calda? I was about to make a fresh batch of coffee when I noticed everyone outside."

"That sounds delicious, of course!" Daisy beamed, and Lucanis led her into the kitchen. It wasn't until they reached the kitchen corner that Daisy realized she had not let go of his hand. "Forgive me," Daisy muttered and let go. By all the sacred undead, must she be so horrible!

Lucanis felt the loss of her hand in his, the warmth that he'd slowly started to crave each time he was near her. Spite screamed to always touch, embrace, and kiss her, and it was getting harder to tell whose thoughts were coming from. To sate some of Spite's thirst, Lucanis reached for Daisy's hand, placing a kiss against the back, his eyes never leaving hers. The way the red color bloomed against her face, traveling down her neck from what he could see, Spite screamed in ecstasy.

MORE. She wants. Us! Kiss her! Touch her! Lucanis tried not to show the wince at the volume of Spite's voice in his head. He couldn't deny the sudden thrill of the way her breath caught, the rosy color deepening in her cheeks, and the addicting response she provided him. "Thank you for the dance, my lady."

Lucanis turned away after releasing her hand. Behind him, Daisy held the hand he kissed to her chest while the other touched her face. Daisy felt as if she would melt away from the sheer heat on her face. "Thank you for dancing with me, sir," Daisy responded, Lucanis whipping his head around to look at her as she suddenly found her voice. "Had I known you dance so well, I would have asked you to be my partner instead of Emmrich."

"Is Emmrich not a decent dancing partner?" Lucanis questioned, adding the ingredients to the pot for her favorite drink.

"Emmrich is a fine dancing partner. For my professor." Daisy stepped closer. "There is someone I would rather dance with instead." She looked up at him from under her eyelashes. It was Lucanis's turn to sweat a bit, and the tone of her voice made his heart hammer and pound. He shoved Spite as far down inside his mind as possible, not wanting the demon to interrupt anything.

"Oh, and who may I ask, would you rather dance with?" Lucanis stepped closer; they were now chest to chest, even if Daisy was an inch or two shorter than him. In his eyes, she was perfect if he tucked her under his chin.

"I...I would very much like to..." Lucanis went to reach up to touch her when suddenly, the doors to the dining room burst open.

"Lucanis, this just came for-sorry guys! Am I interrupting something?" Harding picked the perfect time to watch Daisy spring away from Lucanis, a few butterflies springing forth in her embarrassment as she moved. Lucanis's eyes flashed a deadly color of purple before quickly taking a deep breath to calm himself. "Oh shit, sorry!" Harding placed the letter on the table before backing away. "Carry on!"

The room was suffocating in silence.

Lucanis moved first, taking the pot off the stove before moving to retrieve the letter on the desk. Daisy took it as a sign to move, moving her arms around to disburse the offending insects from her embarrassment. When she looked over at Lucanis, the one dancing with her was gone, and instead, there was one with murder on his mind.

"Lucanis? What is it?" Daisy went to stand next to him.

"Viago found something," Lucanis replied tightly.

"Something bad, I take it from the look on your face."

"Venatori in Treviso. Like I thought. One of them might know where Zara is. Viago has crows watching them." Lucanis turned to look at Daisy. "We find them, we find Zara."

"Everything she did to you...we'll make her pay, Lucanis. Side by side."

"We just have to get this done. I'm not losing anyone else." Lucanis handed the letter to Daisy for her to read. "We'll only get one shot at this. We'll go when you're ready."

"Let me go get dressed and see if Taash wants to come. We might need a heavy hitter." Daisy said, quickly scanning the letter before handing it back to him.

"I'll meet you by the eluvian." Lucanis then turned to go into his pantry room but stopped at the doorway. "Daisy?" The woman turned around, her hand resting on the door handle of the dining room.

"Yes Lucanis?"

"I....I want to talk to you...after all this." Lucanis waved his hand in the air.

Daisy smiled and nodded. "Of course. If there is anything else I can help, please don't hesitate to ask." Then she was gone.

He would tell her his feelings and say what's been on his mind. After this mission, after Zara was dead, then, he could breathe easier.

#dragon age #lucanis dellamorte #dragon age rook #dragon age vailguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #lucanis x rook #dragon age spoilers #dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #fluff #dancing rook and lucanis #i love them so much #help me i need help #emmrich volkarin #bellara lutare #We're getting to the good shit guys!

48 notes · View notes