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rxzennia · 24 days

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a promise of forever

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 falling in love; promising an eternity in return. aventurine's real name, ~3k word vomit

aventurine has realized by now that he might just be in love with you.

okay, love is a strong word, let’s take a few steps back.

he isn’t too sure if he’s ready to make that commitment yet, so… at least, he wants you to always be with him. to stay by his side.

he has to make the first move because you would never

he’s terrified!! he doesn’t want to be the first one to offer his heart!!

but if he doesn’t you’d be perfectly content maintaining whatever you have right now

like… boss and assistant? friends? best friends? roommates? lovers? not yet?

aeons he hated how passive you are

it’s so damn obvious that you liked him back to a certain degree

but why aren’t you trying to hold onto him? why aren’t you trying to take up more of his life like he’s doing with you?

he wants your smiles all to himself; wants your hidden softness to only be directed at him; wants your affection for himself, all of you, including your leviathans

he loves, loves how you’ve opened up to him over time

you’ve gone from a ice cold slab of stone to a wall he trusts enough to rant at, then the highlight of his life that he doesn’t want to let go of

the way you would get upset whenever he tries to do something dangerous, even if you and he both know he’d come out fine

the way you would pick up the phone regardless of when or why he’s calling, even if you’re off duty and annoyed at him ringing you at 2am

the way you would, without considering his feelings, cringe and back away when he accidentally brings you food you hate, but ultimately feed it to your scarf because you don’t want to waste it

he loves them all. your reactions, your expressions, everything

especially when he’s probably the only one to see so much of you all the time

he wants to keep hearing you talk about yourself, keep learning more about you, even the parts of you that no one’s ever known before

he didn’t want to tell you all of that, yet he wants you to know

except you’ve made it very clear with your personality that if he doesn’t tell you, you won’t pry

and, like, you can’t read minds. neither can he.

so you’ve essentially forced him into confessing :(

if he wants your friendship (and more), he has to be the one who asks

aventurine remembers how cold you were at the beginning, so much so that he briefly wondered if working under him was amount to torture for you as it was for a few of his previous secretaries.

you never talked more than absolutely necessary, you've always had that terrifying glare, and couple these things with the fact that he rarely saw your face? yeah, you didn’t look like you wanted to be there.

he tried to transfer you elsewhere. under topaz, maybe, or even jade, or even some other department but you've never replied.

but you've replied to his texts before and after that?

you've just flat out ignored the transfer offer?

does this mean you don't want to be transferred?

that's probably when his fascination with you started

you, who's so detached and seems to dislike him, wanting to stay as his secretary?

he tried to ask you about it once, but all he got was “there's still a year before my contract expires”

which, well, yes, fair enough

but you should also know that if he's the one bringing it up, you won’t be getting into trouble for breaking the contract

he drops it, though, because he knows that there might be certain things you don't want to tell him

or perhaps you don't understand

he feels like you're very bad with emotions and expressing your thoughts

you are, honestly

it’s a different story with the permanent offer he made you a while ago, though

“are you sure?” you asked, with rare anticipation in your eyes

he chuckles, “absolutely.”

you try to hide your joy, but the speed at which you signed the paper is telltale enough

he’s also promoted you from secretary to assistant

even though you’re pretty much his assistant already

you don’t really know how to feel about that part

does this mean you’ll get even busier? not really? will you still be staring at contracts at 3am?

then comes aventurine’s offer for you to move in with him.

you’ve managed to finally notice that the dynamic between you and your boss resembles that of typical lovers in the media, but what do you know? one, aventurine is probably unused to someone else’s company so he’s compensating for it, and two, it’s not like you’re versed enough in mortal sentiments to make an accurate judgement.

he cuddles up to you in his sleep

he’ll smack your face accidentally when he wakes up and stretches

“this is the twenty-third time you’ve done this.” your scarf morphs into half a faceless snake and push his hand back down

why the hell have you been keeping count

you’ve mostly lined your morning routine up with his

efficiency, you tell yourself, it’ll be easier to keep yourselves on schedule

which means you find yourself with him at the breakfast table more often than not

he’s eating normally, while you…

you have a leviathan chewing on the entire plate, and yes that includes the ceramic

what about you? you’re preparing presentations and drafting contracts, of course!

or sometimes fighting for your life in corporate emails :/

is starting the day together really still simply “efficiency” at this point?

you’re starting to think you’re lying to yourself as the days go by

maybe you’ve been living amongst mortals for too long

because you find him so precious that you want to hold him dearly and give him everything

he’s so scared of being vulnerable, but he’s willing to lower his guard around you

what is this foreign feeling? what’s with this odd desire to protect? to hoard?

like how dragons hoard treasure, or how crows hoard shiny things

has anyone told you you’re terrible at emotions?

you’re terrible at emotions

you’ve memorized every little thing he likes and every little habit he has

and he noticed! of course he noticed!

are you absolutely sure you don’t like him even a little bit?

are you absolutely sure you have nothing to say to him?

must he make the first move when you’re so blatantly obvious?

he really, really, hates you (lovingly) for this

aventurine eventually comes to terms with it. if he wants you, officially, he’ll have to bare his innermost thoughts first.

there’s a period of distancing, and a period of overwhelming anxiety and overthinking all on his own. but even then you didn’t pull away from him, no; you were patient. you’ve asked, then left him alone when he turned his head away, then you’ve kept it professional. you didn’t question him again after, either.

it stung a little when you acted all formal with him, but it’s your little actions in-between that convinced him to finally come out and say it. getting him coffee the way he likes it, letting him find comfort in your presence at night even if he’s suddenly closed himself off, ordering his favorite takeout when it’s a slow day, covering his openings when you find yourselves locked in combat… you’ve always been looking after him, haven’t you?

finally, finally, aventurine decides to confess.

considering how little he knows about you, he (surprisingly) isn’t too worried about giving you his heart

well, of course there is the tiniest amount of doubt and fear

but mostly he thinks you wouldn’t betray his trust. mostly.

you’re a walking green flag, after all

maybe with the exception of when you’re left alone with monsters

but the way you treat him? green flag. massive green flag.

even after he’s told you a little bit about his past, you haven’t looked down on him at all

he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked down on him

though, he thought you thought him despicable when you first met because of the way you looked at him

not unreasonable with the stereotypes against his people and all

but you’ve proven his assumption wrong on your first day

you were totally cooperative and really… well, not nice, but not hard to work with, either

despite your unresponsiveness, you’ve kept everything he said in mind

that’s not how one behaves around someone they find distasteful

and after spending so much time with you, he realized that’s just how your stare is

you sort of… look down on everyone without meaning to

you have no idea how relieved he was when he could finally be certain that you’ve never disliked him

also! he can discern between your stares now

your resting neutral stare, your happy stare, your disgusted stare, they’d look the same to the average person, but not to him anymore

(he was super happy when he realized he’s got it all down)

he’s learned to read you because you’re so reserved and detached all the time

oh how he wished you’d tell him more about yourself

before anyone asks, he did try to dig up your past

imagine his surprise when he found nothing, like, literally nothing

the one time he watched you eat a monster whole was the first time he learned something deeper about you

he then realized that it wasn’t a coincidence that he couldn’t find anything about you

anyways, back to the confession

he’s come up with an entire plan in his head, but he really has no idea how to execute it

he wants to make it as memorable as possible for you!

except… would you even like a grand confession (of companionship)?

in the end, he took you out to a fancy dinner under the guise of “just another dinner date with your boss”

he’ll tell you his feelings at home

he has an inkling that you’d prefer it that way. intimate and private.

“hey…” aventurine starts, sitting down next to you on the bed after his shower, “i’ve been thinking…”

you naturally pull the towel off his shoulders and stand up to dry his hair for him. “you think?”

“stop, i’m serious,” he complains, punching your stomach playfully before burying his face in your shirt. “hear me out, you oversized snake.”

that’s the first time you’ve heard that nickname. “what?” you can’t help but be amused at the creative insults, then you let out a soft sigh and shut your mouth.

“you know how you’re now my permanent assistant?” aventurine slowly says, wrapping his arms around your waist as you work on his head, “can i… can we keep having this arrangement?”

you reply with a hum, but your tone slides up towards the end, like you’re asking a question. he chuckles, of course you’re confused, you’re so dense sometimes.

aventurine shifts around until he’s looking up at you. “this. you and i, living together, taking care of each other,” he elaborates, his eyes half-closed from how tired he is, “can you… stay?” then, with a quieter voice, he adds, “with me?”

you take some time to think about it as you toss the towel aside and bring out the hair dryer

from what you know about him, this is a very, very big request for him

he’s essentially asking if he can rely on you

even though he’s probably relied on himself most of his life

he wants to put his faith in you? you’re flattered, really

it seems like he’s also checking off a lot boxes for what people call “love”

according the the movies and books you’ve watched and read, anyway

but he’s not calling it “love”? is this something else, then?

you start blow drying his hair, carding through his blond locks with your free hand

he relaxes into your touch

“well? your answer?” aventurine asks, a slight shake in his voice as he peeks at you nervously.

“you sound like the protagonist of a romance movie,” you remark, leaning down to give him a quick peck on his head, “is this what it is?”

suddenly, it dawns on you why exactly were there flowers at dinner

roses, no less

but jeez, you did not need to call him out like that

what happened to oblivious and clueless?

then again, you’re bad with your own emotions, but you’re horribly good at reading others’

he flushes and hides his face in your stomach

he just wants to hear your answer, not hear you point out he’s probably extremely smitten with you

and it’s probably worse that you compared him to the lead actors in a romance movie

is he so obvious? is he not subtle at all?

does this mean you’ve known all along? you just didn’t want to make the first move?

or do you not feel the same way?

oh no, he’s overthinking again

“aventurine,” you call, snapping him out of his trance, “if you don’t say no, i’ll assume this is a love confession.”

man, why would you say it like that? it’s not that he can deny it, but if you’re going to be so damn straightforward…

“it… it is, i suppose, in more ways than one,” he whimpers in embarrassment, “will you, then, uh, will you say yes?”

he wants to trust you with all of himself so bad

finally he won’t have to shoulder everything alone anymore

he’ll tell you everything about his upbringing, even the ugliest parts

he’s been yearning for someone to hear him, to see him for so long

will you be his person?

he’s so excited and so scared

more scared than excited, actually

there are more issues he’ll need to work through, but for now?

he wants your promise

he doesn’t think he’ll ever come across someone as perfect as you again

so he really, really, really needs you to say yes

as the low whirr of the hair dryer comes to a stop, you set the little device on the nightstand and sit down next to aventurine. you sandwich his face between your palms and make him meet your gaze – you’ll never get used to how mystically pretty his eyes are – as you flash him a lazy smile.

“if you’re sure you want me,” you mumble; it seems that you are just as embarrassed as he is, “then… by all means.”

just as he’s going to throw himself into your arms, you stand up

?????? where are you going ??????

oh, you’re just going to put away the hair dryer and the towel

and also bring a spare scarf back with you?

did you forget that you have yours hanging on your neck

he’s so over the moon right now he’s all giddy and all over the place inside

are you perhaps the same?

when you come back, he practically throws himself into your lap

you avoid his eyes

holy shit you’re cute when you’re flustered

you’re blushing

you, who’s usually so stoic and unresponsive, is blushing!!

and trying to hide your face without resorting to your scarf!!

in the end you give up and instead pull him so close that he can’t see your expression

he doesn’t know what he’s asking out, you think, he doesn’t know what he’s trying to trust

which makes it all the more endearing to you

and it makes you want to make sure you live up to his expectations

this little mortal has you wrapped around his finger, and you don’t find yourself annoyed at all

in fact you want to shelter him and coddle him so badly that you’re tempted to act on instinct

tempted to. you can’t, because of a lot a lot of reasons

again, seriously, you’ve been hanging around mortals for far too long

you gently press his face into your shoulder. “aven-”

“kakavasha,” he corrects, “call me kakavasha. please.”

“okay, kakavasha.” you don’t hesitate, and you move to massage his scalp. “your real name?”

it seems like he’s in no mood to talk, because all he gives you is a quiet hum in affirmation; you agree with him, you don’t feel like talking much, either.

you pull away slightly to kiss right above his ear. then you did something he would’ve never expected you to do – with your nimble fingers, you wrapped the extra scarf in your hands around his neck, gave it a few loops then secured it with the same knot you use to secure yours.

what just happened

you slowly pull away with a soft pat to the piece of cloth

did you just give him…?

you did. you did, you mad danger noodle of incomprehensible mass

two faceless creatures with drool dripping from their maws stare at him

they’re connected to the scarf you put on him

he’s feeling so many things right now

even if he doesn’t quite understand what this means, he at least knows that you’ve given him a literal part of yourself

you’re very into this idea of being with him, huh…?

boy, he’s so glad he decided to confess

because he would’ve never known had he not asked

and what do you mean he would’ve missed out on something so wonderful?

this is also the first time someone outside of his family has ever given him something so precious and personal

he awkwardly reaches out to pet them

they nudge against his hand happily?

that’s weirdly adorable for a creature that has a diet of literal monsters

and much like satisfied pets, they disappear into the scarf after they’ve gotten their fill of petting

“for me?” aventurine- no, kakavasha asks, tentatively running his hands across the smooth fabric.

“proof of my loyalty to you,” you reply, taking his hand and placing kisses on his every finger.

what you don’t tell him is that your promise will last for eternity and beyond – even if you fight, or part ways, you’ll always watch over him. he doesn’t need to know that. not yet, anyway.

“you…” kakavasha feels like he’s a child all over again. he’s safe, he’s not making a wager, he’s not going to win or lose here, he can finally take a breather. “you have no idea…”

he buries his face into you, grabs your sides so he can press his body tightly against yours, and he sobs into your chest. he isn’t surprised at all that the scarf around your neck would wrap around him too, and he’s just all bundled up in you.

“shh, shh.” you pat his back and rock him back and forth. “easy now,” you whisper, “i’m here, kakavasha.”

aeons, he really, really loves the sound of your voice, especially when you say his name. when it was aventurine, you were reliable, loyal, and above all, gentle; when he finally allows you to call him kakavasha, every syllable from your lips drips with unspoken affection and a gratefulness that he’s unused to.

maybe someday he’ll finally be able to proudly profess his love to you. but at this very moment…

this is enough.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #aventurine #aventurine x reader #ares's voracity pathstrider tales

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unclewaynemunson · 10 months

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I definitely think it takes Eddie a while to accept that Steve changed. He remembers what he was like in high school.

When Steve asks him out, for whatever reason, Eddie says yes. But he’s determined not to fall in love, because deep down Harrington’s still a dick. But he’s cute, and Eddie can smile and play pretend.

But then! Steve goes full happy relationship mode, he tells Robin (obv), introduces Eddie to the other adults as his bf, and is just generally being sweet.

MY SWEET ANON I HOPE YOU'LL STILL SEE THIS!!!

I'm so sorry it took me ages to answer this one! But I really loved the idea of this (the good ol' steddie + misunderstanding about what they mean to each other with a dash of terrible communication skills my beloved) so i wanted to give it my proper attention, which i didn't have enough time for over the past few months. Buuut the words have finally found their way to my keyboard so here is the first part of what probably will turn into a 3-part ficlet, I hope it's something like what you had in mind when you sent this ask to me <3

---

Eddie has been acting weird all day. Maybe Steve is too much of a romantic, but he can't help it: he wanted to celebrate this day. Exactly a month ago, he asked Eddie out. And it's been good. They've spent a lot of time together. They've been on lots of dates, spent plenty of nights together... But today, things are different, somehow. Eddie is different. He turned Steve down for a dinner date, he didn't stop by Family Video during lunchtime, and when Steve shows up at the trailer to surprise him with flowers, he merely frowns and pulls back from their kiss before it can even properly get started.

'Everything alright?' Steve asks, trying to catch his boyfriend's gaze – which isn't exactly easy with how Eddie is turning away from him to not-so-gently put the flowers down in a corner of the trailer's living room.

'Yeah, sure,' Eddie mumbles, not really looking at him. 'It's just – I didn't really expect to see you today. We didn't have plans.'

Steve chuckles, trying to get the tension out of his chest. 'Didn't know I was expected to schedule an appointment before coming here.' He tries to play it off as a joke, but the tone of his voice doesn't really want to cooperate.

Eddie finally turns back towards him and Steve catches the end of an eye-roll.

'I'm just not feeling too great today, alright?' It sounds a bit stiff and Steve pauses. He wonders if he did something wrong, if he somehow invaded Eddie's space – even though he has showed up at the trailer on countless evenings in the past month.

'What's wrong?'

'Nothing,' Eddie answers, a little bit too fast. 'I told you, I'm not feeling so well.'

And now that he can see his face properly, Steve notices that Eddie is indeed looking paler than usual.

'Hey, don't worry about it,' he says. 'I can stay to take care of you, if you want to. We don't have to do anything. You can go to bed early and I'll keep you company. I can make you some soup, read to you... You could've just told me you're not feeling good, you know. I would've picked up some fruit on my way over here and stopped by the library for you.'

'You don't have to do any of that, Steve.'

Steve tries to ignore the fact that it's been ages since Eddie has last called him by his official first name. He doesn't like the sound of it.

'But I want to,' he says instead. He takes a step towards Eddie, lifts his arms to wrap them around him – but Eddie swats his arms away before he can properly embrace him.

'Don't.' He sounds cold and detached, so different from how he usually sounds. 'Don't act like this is something it isn't.'

'Like this is something –' Steve echoes, completely caught off-guard by this turn of events. 'Like what?'

'Jesus Christ, you really don't know when to stop, do you?'

'What?' He takes a stumbling step backwards, driven away by the force in Eddie's words.

'We're not – like that,' Eddie stutters out. 'We're just fucking around, aren't we? So you don't need to pretend. You don't need to bring me flowers. You don't need to take care of me when I'm sick. You don't owe me anything, alright? You can go home.'

Steve takes another step backwards, until his back collides with the door of the trailer. He blindly grabs the door handle behind him.

'Alright,' he says, trying desperately not to let his voice tremble audibly. 'I hear you, loud and clear. I'll – I'll leave you alone, then.'

Read pt2 here (Edit: it's actually 5 parts now. You can read the whole thing on ao3 here)

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #anon seriously thank you so much for sending this to me!! it's been a great scenario to explore #and my apologies for the angst lmao #but i promise more will follow soon #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fruity ficlet

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muzansfangs · 1 year

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Guilty pleasure.

Starring: Muzan x reader; Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza and Nakime.

Warnings: nsfw, modern au, loss of virginity, language, sugar daddy dynamics, age gap (Muzan is 35, reader is 21), vaginal sex, reference to cheating, unprotected sex, creampie, dom!muzan, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, light choking.

Plot: Kokushibo comes to pick you up and he helps you with the move. During the car ride, Muzan texts you and blatantly tells you that he intends to have sex with you that very night. You spend the day exploring your new house, interacting with the other two bodyguards, until Muzan finally joins you for dinner. He seems genuinely interested in you and your habits and, when he leads you to his bedroom, you can clearly tell he is definitely invested into exploring every inch of your body.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello, there!

I’ve finally been able to update the second part of this short series. I hope you’re going to enjoy the reading and thank you so much for the support you’re showing me! Make sure to read the first part, before you proceed in reading this one. Things are finally getting started down here ;). Likes, comments and reposts are appreciated!

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

CORRUPTION.

“How’s Mr. Kibutsuji?” you asked, shooting an interrogative glance at Kokushibo through the rear-view mirror of the car. Time had really flown and, before you could mentally prepare yourself to the radical change in your life, it was already Sunday and you had just locked the front door of your apartment, pestered by uncertainties about your new busy schedule and, most likely, new life-style.

“He is a respectful, classy man, miss L/N” the driver flatly replied, not averting his eyes from the road. It was your third failed attempt to make a small conversation with the stolid man, who was most likely going to be your bodyguard as well. You had had the chance to read all the clauses of the contract and it did not seem unpleasing. Except for your lack of privacy, due to being followed and watched in every step you took by a potential serial killer.

If you had to spend hours in Kokushibo’s company, then you would have liked to know him better, at least.

You sighed and rested your forehead against the cold car window “Yeah, I know. – you said, batting your eyes close for a few seconds – Do you think we could ever be friends? I mean, you’re going to be my shadow for the rest of my life. It’s weird and I… Uhm, well, I’d like to feel comfortable around you” you said, opting for a blatant request.

You were spontaneous, honest, and best known for speaking your thoughts without fear, or remorse. You would have surely not changed your attitude for a contract. Plus, it was not like you were rude. You liked to think yourself free to say and do whatever you pleased. Well, at least, when you were safe from prying eyes.

It took a few seconds for Kokushibo to reply something, but eventually he did and a skeptical “As you wish, ma’am” left his lips.

You rolled your eyes, palming your forehead in defeat. It was a lost cause, was it not? Nevertherless, it was your second time interacting with him. There was still a dim hope of breaking through his detached heart.

“Y/N, call me Y/N” you breathed out, expecting some kind of reaction from the taciturn bodyguard. However, he kept his mouth shut and you realised that, perhaps, Kokushibo was not just a man of few words: he probably found it odd that ‘the boss’s fiancé’ wanted to strike up a conversation with him.

You were about to pest him again with another sapless question, when your phone buzzed. You thought it was one of your friends, or maybe your collegues from the small restaurant you worked in. Some of them were heartbroken, when you announced them you had to resign for personal reasons. You could only imagine their faces, when they would have seen your face on the newspapers as Muzan’s wife.

You had still not filled up anyone with the fresh news, chiefly because you were not sure about the outcome of this arranged relationship.

However, when you read the text, you wheezed and clasped your hand over your mouth not to draw Kokushibo’s attention. Funny how you had acted as an attention seeker for fifteen minutes straight and now you were practically ducking your head down not to let him see your reflection in the rear-view mirror. Two words. He had opted for two mere words and your world had stopped revolving.

MUZAN: Sex. Tonight.

Your heart thrummed in your chest as you had to reread the text over and over again to check if you had read it correct. You had exchanged numbers before you left his house and you expected him to text you, at least, once or twice in the past few days. Yet, he had not called or even sent you a trivial message. Nothing. You did not quite expect him to demand a sexual performance from you, out of the blue. You were totally in, of course you were. Muzan Kibutsuji was handsome as Hell, you had always drooled after him, whenever the daily reports showed pictures and videos of him, especially during a conference.

You had accepted the terms of the contract without blinking. Having a sexual intercourse with him was a pleasing activity.

The thing was you were a virgin. Well, you had only experience with giving oral. That was the furthest you had gone with your ex. You knew that sooner or later it would have happened and you were electrified by the idea of giving yourself to him. He was a famous womanizer, unfortunately, but he was surely someone who had plenty of experience and knew how to treat a woman in bed.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…” you uttered under your breath, cheeks flushing up as you stared at the screen of your phone thunderstruck.

“What did you say, mi–… Y/N?” Kokushibo said, an ounce of concern and awkwardness echoing in his words. At the sound of your name leaving his lips, you squealed out in joy and almost forgot that fact that he had just heard you swearing. It did not matter anymore because he had just made progress, censuring himself even!

“Ah, yes! You got it, then! – you beamed, leaning forward until your chin almost rested over his shoulder – We’re going to be best buddies!” you said, watching how his hold on the steering wheel grew tighter. The tips of his ears were now tinted in a vivid shade of red and you chuckled, before sinking back onto your seat and texted a reply to Muzan.

You: I’d love that, Mr. Kibutsuji.

It did not take a lot for him to reply and, when he did, your breath hitched in your throat and you shoved your phone back into your bag.

Muzan: In a few hours, you’re going to forget how to properly sit for a week.

It was definitely going to be an unforgettable first day at the Kibutsuji manor.

♚

You expected to share the bedroom with Muzan. He had not mentioned that you could pick a guest room and sleep in there, until you felt comfortable enough to lay down next to him. You were taken aback, naturally, but you were glad he wanted you to settle down without any pressure. He was not imposing his authority on you, his presence in your life was not suffocating you… Yet.

He seemed a gentleman, but you barely knew him. What if things degenerated? You refused to believe it and all you focused on was the present and, as for now, he was not troubling you in any way.

Once you were finally done unpacking, Kokushibo told you he would have taken his leave to run an errand for Muzan and you were free to do whatever you pleased in the meanwhile.

“Wait, can I come with you? I… Well, I don’t want to be alone” you said, rubbing the back of your neck as you shot the most pleading glance at the man you had enjoyed annoying all day long.

Kokushibo quirked an eyebrow up “You are not alone, actually. – he simply replied, straightening his jacket – Douma and Akaza are in the basement. I can accompany you there…” the man said, folding his arms against his chest. Only then, when he flexed his arms, you noticed how muscular he actually was.

He had large shoulders, a broad chest and, most likely, a chiseled set of abs down his stomach. Well, damn, did Muzan really have to choose hot men as his bodyguards? Ignoring your dirty, inappropriate thought, you vigorously nodded your head and followed him down the corridor, hoping that the other two assassins were not as good-looking as Kokushibo. Your hopes, though, crushed down, when, hopping down from the elevator, you were met with two piercing golden eyes and fascinating multicolored hues.

The taller one, silvery hair and a malicious grin plastered over his face was the first one who spoke “Ah, there she is! I knew she was the perfect candidate for this job. Such a pity I could not ask her out…” he complained, discarding his phone on the counter of the bar area and strolling towards you.

He was magnetic, his smile so bright and malicious that could have enlighten the whole city during a blackout.

“Back off, Douma. – the short guy, sipping a glass of what you assumed to be cognac, hissed from the stool he was sitting on – Touch her and I’ll shoot you” he stated, slamming the shot onto the counter carelessly.

You let out a nervous laughter and flashed a thin-lipped smile at them, before greeting the rest of Muzan’s army “Akaza and Douma, right? Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N L/N” you introduced yourself, waving your hand at them sheepishly.

You wondered if Akaza really meant what he had said and your eyes betrayed your thoughts, making Douma sneer and grasp your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

You could feel his breath fanning the tip of your nose, his slender frame towering over you as his half-lidded, mystical eyes scanned your face. He really did not know what personal space was, did he?

“Ah, look at you! Adorable, just adorable! Akaza loves to bully me, but he could never lay a finger on the second in command! Muzan-sama would kill him himself! – Douma chimed, tugging at your hand softly and leading you towards the bar – Now, now, let’s grab a glass of scotch and have a chit-chat, shall we?” he suggested, winking at you.

You had no idea of what to do and say. He seemed friendly, far way easier to talk to than Kokushibo, and, since they were going to be your protectors too, it was a good idea getting to know them better.

Before you could talk, Kokushibo’s deep voice pierced your ears and you both froze in your tracks “Take care of her. Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes” he stated, glancing at the two men menacingly, before nodding your head in your direction and hastily leaving the basement.

You watched him leave, your stomach clenching, as you realised that you would have been able to see Muzan in a while. You were not nervous about the dinner, but you had to admit that the idea of undressing in front of him and moaning into his mouth was doing numbers on you.

What if he changed his mind because you had almost zero experience?

You sighed and Douma snaked his arm around your waist, leading you to the stool next to Akaza’s one. As you sat down, you swallowed the lump in your throat and propped your elbows on the counter, eyes transfixed on the crystal bottle of liquor in front of you.

“Can I have a glass of whatever it is, please?” you whispered, earning a chuckle from Douma.

“Bad day?” Akaza asked you, reaching his hand out to grab a glass and the bottle you had been staring at almost lustfully.

You shrugged and flicked your gaze up to meet his golden eyes “Kind of… – you breathed out, as he slided the now filled glass towards you on the polished surface of the counter – I’m not used to be treated like a princess. Everything’s great, don’t get me wrong. I guess it’ll take some time for me to adapt” you said, grasping the glass and dawning a small sip of the alcoholic drink. It burned down your throat and you took a deep breath not to cough up at their faces.

Akaza grinned and cocked his head to the side, his pink eyelashes contrasting with the shimmering hues beneath them “You know, I thought you were a bitch. That’s because Douma found you and he usually has bad tastes in women” he said, making you choke on yiur drink.

What?

You settled the glass back on the counter, eyes daggers on Akaza as he just giggled at your reaction. What did he mean by ‘Douma found you’? You knew that someone had clearly spied on you, you just were startled to find out it was the jovial silver-haired man who had welcomed you in the basement.

“Yeah, he’s stalked you for months!” he added, running his ringed fingers through his spiky hair.

Your head whipped, eyes finally locking with Douma’s ones, demanding at least an apology for having invaded your privacy “How many photographs of me have you taken?” you asked him, quirking an eyebrow up.

He smiled brightly at you and shrugged “Uhm… Probably over twothousand. You know, Muzan-sama became obsessed with you when I showed him the first picture of you I had taken!” he casually declared, as if it was not the creepiest thing to say to someone.

Muzan became obsessed with you?

You shivered, biting the insides of your cheeks in discomfort. How many things did he know about you? Why was he so obsessed with you, a common civilian who was trying to graduate and pay for her studies by working night-shifts at a restaurant?

“Tell me you have not broken into my house, at least” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Silence. Did he?

You gasped and clasped a hand over your mouth in shock and Douma jabbed his finger at Akaza accusingly “Hey, I was not alone! He came with me countless times!” he protested, earning a scornful look from the pink-haired guy.

“Sure I did! I was afraid you were going to follow her into the bathroom, you perv!” Akaza yelled, slamming his fist onto the counter and leaning towards him, despite you being in his way.

“Okay, okay! Stop it you two!” you interjected, blocking Akaza’s view on the taller man.

“See? You made Y/N-chan upset!” Douma rebuked Akaza, folding his arms against his chest and giving him an annoyed side-eye.

Well, they were hilarious. You were glad that two out of the three bodyguards were not as stiff as Kokushibo. They were amusing, even, and they had made the revelation about how you ended up in Muzan’s house less scary than it was. A politician could not be an saint and Muzan was surely far from being one.

Before you could open your mouth to say something, a feminine voice echoed from the entrance of the basement and you three switched your attention on the brunette woman staring at you.

She was probably a little bit older than you. Long, chocolate brown hair and crimson-red lipstick exalting her pale skin, she wore a black tailleur, the skirt being way too short though, and revealing a black, leather suspender with a sharp knife in it. She seemed lathal and she was absolutely beautiful, although you could barely see her eyes.

“Master Muzan’s waiting for you, miss L/N” she coldly said and you clumsily hopped down from the stool to walk towards the elevator not to piss her off. She did not seem like the type you would have messed with, plus you had never seen her before.

“Ah, Nakime-dono… – Douma suavely addressed her – I wondered where were you”.

You passed by her and she bowed her head at you “Enjoy your meal, ma’am. Nobody will disturb you and the Master tonight” she said and you felt a wave of cold sweat running down your back. Were you ready for it?

♚

You were sitting across from him. His plum red eyes boring into yours, as he watched you bringing the spoon to your mouth and repress a moan of pleasure, when the delicious rice met your yearning taste buds.

You had been talking about everything. He seemed eager to know everything about you. Your studies, what you would have loved to do after your graduation, your hobbies, your family. He found you fascinating, adorable.

“It looks like I’ve chosen something you like, doesn’t it? – he commented, a faint smile adorning his lips as you blushed and shyly nodded your head – You can ask the chef to cook whatever you please for lunch tomorrow” he added, clearing his throat.

Seriously?

You smiled at him and settled the silver spoon onto the now empty plate “Thank you so much, Muzan. I will try to pick something you can enjoy too!” you said softly.

He did not reply, he just stood up, consuming the five strides dividing you two in a nick of time and swiftly grasping your chin between his forefinger and thumb. It was time for him to claim you, was it not? Your cheeks seemed to burn under his intense gaze and firm touch and you mouth went suddenly dry.

“Come with me, baby” he whispered, after a few seconds. His hand left your chin, his fingertips grazing down the tender flesh of your neck, travelling down its length and stopping right above your cleavage.

You nodded your head and he wrapped his hand around your wrist, pulling you up and closer to him. He leaned down, until his nose brushed against yours and you batted your eyes close in anticipation. You felt butterflies fluttering into your stomach and, by the time he swept you off of your feet and cradled you in his arms, you knew he had already won your heart.

You clung to him, feet dangling in the air as he led you to his majestic bedroom. He banged the door open, entering in and not caring about closing it behind you. When he dropped ruthlessly onto the bed, your eyes snapped open and you saw the lustful gaze he had trailed on you. The tent in his pants was prominent and you pushed yourself up on your elbows, biting on your lower lip nervously.

He smirked down at you unbuckling the belt with one hand “Take your clothes off. Now” he demanded, throwing it away and unzipping his pants.

“Yes, sir” you murmured, proceeding in kneeling on the bed to pull the simple pink dress you were wearing above your head. You felt his gaze on you, you felt it soaking in every curve of your body, searching for the proof that you were as excited as him. And he found it.

Your white virginal panties had an evident dump he did not fail to notice. You stared up at him and he pulled his shaft out of the tight fabric of his black boxers, giving it a few pumps. It was huge, it would have hurt like Hell and you gulped nervously as you hesitantly pulled your panties down your thighs, exposing your untouched flower at his vicious eyes.

“Fuck” he grunted, crawling over the bed and grasping you by your hips. You squirmed as he pushed you down onto the mattress, his fingers snatching the panties away from your ankles and discarding them somewhere behind him.

“S-Sir, please… Be gentle, I’m a virgin” you blurted out, earning a dumbfounded glance from the raven-haired man.

He could not believe his eyes. You, the young and lovely girl he was about to mark as his property was actually a virgin. He chuckled, parting your legs and grazing your chaste entrance with his pointer finger. You shuddered under his touch, your juices coating the pad of his digit as he slowly shoved it inside you.

You yelped, his other hand pushing your hips down to keep you in place “Your admission just made me feral. Are you under birth-control?” he huskily asked you, pumping the finger in and out of soaked, tight cunt.

You whined and nodded your head at him “Y-yes… Yes, I am, Master” you winced, as he deliberately decided to add another finger into you. He was loving every second of it, your moans music to his ears. He had even declined Nakime’s avances earlier. Something he was not used to, actually, and he had not even called Daki for the usual morning quickie in his office. Nothing, all because he wanted to focus on you. Only on you.

“Good. That’s good, love, because I’ll cum into you” he rasped, removing his fingers from your core and lining his shaft at your entrance. You held your breath, cheeks heating up even more at his words, as you boldly wrapped your legs around him.

He was still fully clothed and you were so lost into the depths of your mind that you had not realised it until now. Why was he fucking you like that? Was it his kink?

And with a quick, painful thrust he entered you. You let out a throaty moan, the pain, mixed with an unfamiliar pressure into your neather regions made your arch your back and grip the red bedsheets into your fists so tightly you thought they were going to rip into shreds.

Muzan grunted, his hand caressing your cheek lovingly to capture the tear you had shedded, before planting a kiss over your plumped lips. You relaxed, he stayed still for a few minutes, before he pulled out and thrusted back in gently. You moaned into his mouth, your hand, cupping his smooth cheek as you whispered a weak “Please, don’t stop” against his lips.

Muzan bit your lip softly, tugging at it to assert his authority on you “Hush, baby. Moan for me until I fill you up to the brim”.

You kissed him again, Muzan returning it as he started to pick up a faster pace. He thrusted into you, his mouth latching onto your collabone as he left a trail of wet kisses down it. You were his. You were going to fall for him, no matter how long it would have taken.

You were his doll, his precious baby, his goddess.

“A–Ah, Muzan… I-I think I’m close… It’s good, it’s so good” you breathed out then, as his hand grasped your throat and gave it a tight squeeze. You moaned, eyes rolling at the back of your skull, as your spongy walls clamped down his cock.

He growled, his hips rutting into you as he neared his climax and, just a few moments before he spurted his seed into you, you orgasmed around him. Muzan lowly moaned, burying his face onto the crook of your sweaty neck as he finished inside you. He stayed sheathed into you for a few minutes, before pulling out of your aching core and rolling over his back.

You could not believe what had just happened. You could not believe you had just slept with the next President, you could not believe he had come into you.

“You can sleep here, if you want” he casually said then, snapping you out of your stream of consciousness. He was not laying next to you anymore, he was on his feet and walking towards the private bathroom of his bedroom, undressing and leaving a trail of clothes behind him.

Well, what a first day it had been.

#muzan x reader #muzan x you #muzan x y/n #demon slayer #muzan smut #douma #kny au #kimetsu no yaiba #kokushibo #michikatsu tsugikuni #akaza #modern au #demon slayer au #smut #demon slayer smut #douma x reader #akaza x reader #kokushibo x reader #doma x reader

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feyhunter78 · 3 months

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Flowers on Your Doorstep

Art cred: Panprika (y'all have no idea how long I searched for this pic, I was losing my mind)

Description: After you bail on lunch, Miguel finds himself seeking advice on how to deal with your cold shoulder.

You’re ignoring him, phone on do not disturb, dodging him on campus and you’re even skipping lab. Of course, the TA said you emailed saying you were sick, but Miguel doesn’t believe it.

He knows you, knows you always push through, that you never skip lab because you’re too afraid you’ll miss something important, and your grades will slip. You’re not sick, this is something else. Something that you won’t tell him, and Brett won’t tell him either.

So, he turns to his next best option, Mina. She’s laying on Gabriel’s bed like she owns it, phone in hand, the room smelling faintly of weed. First, she glares at him, and then clicks her tongue disappointedly, sighing, “you just had to go running around with Ava again, huh?”

“Bro really?” Gabriel groans from his desk, spinning around in his chair to face Miguel. “She’s the fucking worst.”

“She just needed someone to talk to, she doesn’t trust anyone else, I was just being nice.” He says, massaging his temples as Mina continues to click her tongue, the tsk, tsk, tsk sound starting to give him a headache.

“You know what she does to you.” Mina chides, pushing herself up into a sitting position.

He does, he knows it all too well. Ava brings out the worst in him, she corrupted him, as you might say. But she’s still a person he once cared about, even if she stomped on his heart and threw it in a gutter, all the while laughing with her new boyfriend.

“She’s changed, she and Kyle broke up.” He shouldn’t be defending her, he knows that, but there’s still a part of him that wants to prove it wasn’t a mistake to love her.

“Oh again? What is this the twelfth time? I’m sure it’ll last this time around.” She deadpans, raising a perfectly arched brow at him.

Gabriel snickers, then gives Miguel a half-hearted apologetic look.

“What does this have to do with y/n, Mina?” He says tersely, running a hand through his hair, frustration burning, licking at his heels. He just wants to leave, to find you and beg you to tell him what he did wrong.

“She likes you, dumbass, and then she found out you’ve been hanging around Ava, while you’ve been hanging with her. What do you think that looks to her?” Mina asks, her expression making it clear to him that the answer should be obvious, and that she thinks he’s stupid.

He’s going to be sick.

“I—I would never—it’s not like that, I don’t want Ava back, I was just trying to be nice, I didn’t think…”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Mina scoffs, going back to her phone and tapping it a few times.

His stomach churns as he thinks back to earlier this week, the way Ava dragged him away, distracted him with stories from back when they were dating, good ones, funny ones. It was only meant to be a short conversation, you were supposed to get lunch, like always, he wanted to get lunch with you, like always.

He can picture it now, you hiding behind the Sig Epp letters watching him, watching the way Ava still didn’t understand boundaries and put her hands all over him. He could hear the tears coating your voice when he called you, it was like a knife through his chest and he just wanted to go to you. Wanted to wipe away your tears and do something, anything he could, to make it better.

“Look Miguelito just apologize, maybe bring some flowers and wear that sad puppy dog look you’ve got perfected.” Gabriel chimes in, stretching his arms above his head, before standing and approaching him, squeezing his shoulder empathetically. “You can never go wrong with flowers.”

Gabriel was wrong, very, very wrong.

You take the flowers Miguel offers you as he stands on your doorstep, patient, anxious, stomach still twisted in knots.

“Did Ava not want these or…?” You ask, inspecting the flowers with a detached look.

“No—no, I mean, they’re for you, only for you.”

“Oh, okay so she got her own, cool, cool.” You say, placing the flowers on the entryway table next to your door and crossing your arms over your chest.

“I didn’t get Ava flowers.”

“Okay.” You say, foot tapping against the wood laminate of your doorway.

“She’s my ex-girlfriend, we dated for a while, she cheated on me.” He admits in a rush.

Your frigid expression melts into something softer. “I—I didn’t know that.”

He rubs his neck sheepishly. “I don’t like to talk about it. It was a really rough time in my life. But her and I are over, I don’t have any lingering feelings for her.”

“Brett told me. He’s seen you and her together, both before we got close, and after…” You wrap your arms around yourself, your eyes downcast. “If you still have feelings for her, I get it, she’s gorgeous, and you guys have a lot of history.”

“I don’t have feelings for her, we broke up the summer before my freshman year here. She just transferred in at the beginning of this year, and she’s been having problems with her boyfriend. I guess she hasn’t really made any friends, so she’s been leaning on me.”

“And you’re too nice to say no to her.” Your voice is soft, tainted with sadness.

“I told her to find someone else, after you canceled lunch, she wanted to keep talking, keep flirting with me because she knew her ex would see us. I said no.”

You look up at him, half in hope, half in disbelief, it’s written all over your face. “Yeah?”

He nods.

You bite your lip then release it slowly, picking the flowers back up. “These are really pretty.”

He gathers his courage. “Just like you.”

A smile flits across your face. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I gave you the wrong impression with Ava, I shouldn’t have left you stranded while I talked with her, we had prior plans, and I should have stuck to them.”

“It’s okay.” You tell him, holding the flowers to your chest.

He wants to ask you if what Mina said was true, if you feel the same way he does, but it feels wrong somehow. Like it would cheapen the moment.

“Do you want to come in and see our costumes for the dance?” You ask, taking a step back and allowing him entry.

Directly connected parts: Jealousy, Jealousy (previous part) and Semiformal Kisses and Cat Fights (takes place after this current part)

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows, @36namey, @scoobysnakz, @ihateuguys, @idkbros-world @smartyren, @deputy-videogamer, @blackrose8425

#meg's writing #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #nerd miguel #nerd!miguel #nerd!miguel o'hara #college!reader #college!miguel #college au

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yoonmeowzz · 1 year

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nct 127 ! being domestic

contents: nct 127 members x gn!reader, fluff, slice of life, established relationship, non idol au, use of pet names (babe, darling)

warnings: mentions of food (taeil and taeyong)

a/n: i've been thinking A LOT about johnny and mark and this kind of stuff so... yeah

taeil

having breakfast with taeil is definitely the most precious moment of the day. he's still sleepy and clingy so expect having his arms wrapped around you and his nose buried on your neck as you try to serve him a cup of water. just when he feels his stomach growling for food he would detach his body from yours to make toasts with butter and jam, or even just butter and some sugar cause he's lazy today. however he would remind you how good you look in the morning and how much he loves you.

"i can't believe you really wake up like that, y/n"

"like what?"

"like... wow"

⠀ ⠀⠀

johnny

even if people don't believe him, he's 6ft tall, so obviously he can reach every high place in the house. he enjoys seeing you trying to get things from the highest shelves but when you decide to give up and look for him, without saying a word he gets up and helps you getting what you wanted. he then feels his chest filled with this warm feeling he can’t explain, he just loves to help you, be there for you when you need him. he usually stays in the kitchen while you’re cooking, even if you told him to rest, just to get things for you.

“johnny…” he looked up from his phone and immediately went to take the bowl you needed.

“there you go, babe”

⠀ ⠀⠀

taeyong

taeyong appreciates every second he spends with you but late night talking is definitely his favorite thing to do with you. some days, he takes some snacks and drinks sneakily from the kitchen before going back to his room, where you are waiting for him with a smile. however, most of the time it’s just you and him hugging each other or simply lying next to each other while you talk about whatever crosses your mind.

“did you know that there was a greek stuttering orator? he’d practice hard every day to be able to speak in public without stuttering.”

“stop, y/n, i’m gonna get emotional”

⠀ ⠀⠀

yuta

on lazy days when neither of you have enough energy to do anything, he asks you to spend the day in bed. you accept without a doubt. y’all just cuddle for a while, maybe he takes a little nap while you’re on your phone. but his favorite part is lying down on your tummy and having your hands playing with his hair. he LOVES the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp, gently twisting each hair strand. eventually he falls asleep to your slow breathing as the only background noise and once he wakes up he’s all clingy and lovely.

“did i already told you how much i love you?”

“you did, yuta, and i love you too. so much”

“i love you more, darling”

⠀ ⠀⠀

doyoung

activities with doyoung are always aesthetically pleasant, so cute coffee dates at home with homemade coffee are something usual now. he takes his time making your coffee look great so you can take pictures to remember this sweet moments with him when you’re away. after having your cups ready y’all just cuddle on the couch covered in cozy blankets and watch a movie or talk about nothing in particular.

“you said you wanted to try caramel macchiato so i tried to make it. if it tastes bad i can give you my cup”

“thank you so much, doyoung”

⠀ ⠀⠀

jaehyun

this man’s music taste is immaculate. you usually spend your lazy time together listening to music together while cuddling on his bed. you’re lying on top of him, your head resting on his chest as you listen to his calm heartbeat and flash by cigarettes after sex at the background. with his hands stroking your back slowly up and down you start dozing off, his arms secured around you.

“sleep tight, y/n” you hear him whisper over the music before finally falling asleep.

⠀ ⠀⠀

jungwoo

he’s kinda a clean freak so you try to keep things neat. however, he doesn’t mind if you leave the living room or bathroom messy cause he prefers cleaning together on weekends since he has lots of fun spending time with you, no matter what y’all are doing. if you’re tiding your shared bedroom he’s going to try on every piece of clothing he finds. sooner or later, your cleaning session becomes a fashion runway.

“check this hoodie, y/n!! do i look good?”

“you look amazing!!”

⠀ ⠀⠀

mark

messy hair mark, wearing his glasses and pajamas should be illegal cause he’s going to be the death of me. when he’s not busy he likes to spend his mornings with you, especially playing the guitar for you. you’re both sitting on his bed, he just plays some accords until you decide what song you want him to play. it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t know that particular song, he’d learn it for you. and when he starts singing ever so softly… i’m combusting

“i just wanna live in this moment forever…”

⠀ ⠀⠀

haechan

when he’s free from work he spends his time playing video games. but there’s something about playing mario kart with you that feels different. it may sound stupid, but competing with you or making silly bets like “the loser has to give the winner a kiss” is something really intimate and special for him. he usually is very competitive, but this time he doesn’t mind losing, having you by his side is already a win.

“if you win the tournament i’ll do everything you ask me for a week”

“and if i lose?” you raised an eyebrow.

“you have to love me forever”

⠀ ⠀⠀

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siriussslut · 10 months

Note

part 2 to fwb james? 😲

absolutely, i hope u like it!! 🫶🏻

warnings: explicit smut, oral sex (f receiving)

this wasn’t really where i intended to go but i kinda ended up making it seem like james has feelings, so… maybe a part three where they get together? idk🤭

part one, masterlist

“hey lily, do you have a tampon i could borrow?” you ask, standing up from your chair. you’re all sitting in the kitchen now, refilling snacks and drinks in preparation for the sequel of the movie you’d finished only a few minutes ago.

“mhm, there’s some in the cabinet of the upstairs bathroom.”

“thanks,” you say, hurrying up the stairs. you knew the tampons were there from the millions of times you’d been over at lily’s already, but you didn’t want the others to suspect anything. you open the door to find james sitting on the edge of the tub, picking at the lint on his t-shirt.

he looks up as you step inside, locking the door behind you. “oh, hey y/n.”

“hey. we have to be quick. i bought a bit of time, said i needed to switch my tampon, but still.” you step out of your clothes as you talk, pulling down your pajama pants and slipping out of your underwear.

“yep, you don’t want them know,” james says, gaze dropping to your pussy. “you’re so pretty.” he’s immediately distracted, transfixed at the sight of you.

you roll your eyes. as if he hasn’t seen your whole body before. he leans forward, head inching towards your pussy. you’d been horny all night, and playing with james earlier had left you aching. you’re practically dripping down your thighs now.

“you’re so wet,” he whispers, voice rough.

“hurry up.”

he looks up at you through his round glasses. “can i?” he gestures towards your pussy with his chin.

you nod, taking his glasses off for him.

he kneels down so he’s resting on his knees, and you press your back up against the door.

he licks softly across your folds, drawing a small moan out of you. you’re less worried about being quiet now, as the others are downstairs and talking loudly with each other.

something inside of him seems to snap, and he speeds up to an aggressive pace, as though he’s starving for your taste. you throw your head back against the door with a loud thud, subconsciously tangling your fingers in his curls.

he looks up at you with soft brown eyes, a smile crinkling in the corners.

his tongue swirls around your clit, lighting the bundle of nerves on fire, one of his fingers pushed deep inside of you.

“oh, james that’s so good,” you say breathily, your voice shaky. “don’t stop, don’t stop.”

his free hand reaches for your hip, softly kneading the flesh on your side, fingers almost on your ass, but remaining just out of reach.

he curves his finger inside of you, quickening the pace of his tongue even further.

you gasp. “oh, james, you’re doing so good. you’re so good- you’re-“ you cut yourself off as you come, your brain overloading.

he doesn’t let go as you orgasm, licking and kissing you through it.

you slide down to the floor when you finish, forcing him to detach his mouth from you.

“was that good?” he asks, pushing your underwear up your legs.

“mhm.” you nod against the door frame, eyes fluttering shut. you give yourself one more moment before you force yourself up. you pull on your pants, checking in the mirror to make sure you look normal. you splash some cool water on your face before unlocking the door.

“hey, y/n,” james says as you turn the door handle.

“yeah?” you pause, turning back to meet his gaze.

his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are slightly wide. his glasses are back on, slightly crooked this time.

“uh, never mind.”

“…okay. wait a few minutes before you come down.” you close the door, leaving him alone in the bathroom.

#james potter #james potter smut #marauders #marauders era #marauders smut #marauders era smut #harry potter smut

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thebirdandthebee · 1 year

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Call Him Daddy (18+)

This one’s short and sweet - trying to bust a writing slump. I could very easily do a part two if there’s interest! Smut ahead :)

Title: Call Him Daddy Bradley’s been waiting for this day for years, but now, you’ve given him the green light. WC: 2187

The first sign of consciousness was soreness. Before you’d even popped your eyes open that morning, you felt the sublime ache between your legs, and oddly, your breasts.

There was no one to blame but your husband, Bradley. Who’d been awake for about half an hour or so, but hadn’t left the confines of your 500-thread-count sheets.

Bradley was on cloud nine because you were officially trying. After he’d been wishing and hoping and being patient for years, you’d finally had the conversation last night. You’d been married for four years after three years of dating and now, you were comfortable with the thought of tackling parenthood with Bradley.

“Babe? Are we out of mayo?” Bradley had called from the kitchen. You’d assembled a nice little table of accouterments, potato salad and chips as he’d grilled burgers for dinner and you were poised to eat out in the backyard.

Bradley, along with the help of a few of his squadron teammates, had finished the fence in the backyard last week and you were now able to enjoy the outdoor space with just a little more privacy.

“It’s on the door!” You called back, excited, nervous energy zipping through your veins. Tonight you were telling Bradley you’d gotten your IUD removed. Your IUD, which he saw as his mortal enemy.

The truth was, Bradley would have been thrilled if you’d gone off your birth control when you’d gotten married four years earlier. He always thought there was something romantic – traditional – about a honeymoon baby. Hell, he would’ve been more than happy if you’d gotten pregnant before you’d tied the knot.

There were few things in this life he wanted more than to be a dad and have a big family. As someone who grew up with so little, the idea of a full house felt like a dream. You had always known about Bradley’s wishes to be a father, and he was understanding that while it was something you wanted to do, be a mother, you wanted to check a few things off your list first.

You wanted to get married, do some traveling, establish a little more financial security and enjoy life with just you and Bradley for a few years. You loved everything about being a pair – Christmas mornings, vacations, nights out with friends – those would all change with a baby. Certainly for the better, but it would be different, and you’d never get that time as just the two of you again.

You’d spent six weeks backpacking through Europe in the fall, and since then, you’d slowly and quietly been making preparations to transition to a family of three.

And tonight, you’d finally tell Bradley.

“Baby, it all looks wonderful,” you smiled as he sat down, placing a big bowl of watermelon, along with a jar of mayonnaise on the table. “Love when you grill,” you leaned over your bistro table to kiss his cheek.

“Thanks Babe,” he grinned, not flinching as you snagged the sunglasses from the collar of his T-shirt and dropped them over your eyes. You’d chatted about the day – your work day was quiet and Bradley was bringing in a special detachment for training over the next eight weeks. Most of all, you enjoyed the gentle breeze and scent of the neighbors’ lilacs.

“I was thinking…” you began, earning a deadpan look from your husband. Anytime you started ‘thinking’ usually ended up in a new project for him. “Now that the fence is up, could we plant some flowers over in that corner there?” You gestured to the far left side of the yard. A simple request.

“Yeah, we can do that pretty easy,” he agreed. “Maybe some bushes in the other, we can mulch around,” he laid out with his hands, pausing to take a big bite of his now assembled burger.

“Mm, I don’t think that corner,” you shook your head, “I want to keep that back wall of the yard clear,” you stabbed a piece of watermelon before taking a bite.

“Okay, maybe back along the right side,” he trailed a finger along the fence line. “Maybe a bonfire pit?” He suggested.

“Oh definitely not,” you shook your head, nibbling away at your dinner.

“Okay – how about a Jacuzzi?” He suggested. “Now that we have the fence, we don’t need to worry about bathing suits,” he grinned, and while it was a great deal of work not to grin back, you somehow managed.

“Nah, I just don’t think we’d get much use out if it,” you shrugged.

“Baby – nothing along the back side, no bonfire pit, no Jacuzzi – what did we fence this yard in for?” He asked, laughing as he polished off his first burger. It was not out of the ordinary for Bradley to put away three or for burgers on a grill night. You wiped your mouth with a napkin, crossing your legs before taking off his sunglasses.

“Know what I’m thinking?” You asked, taking a final sip of your iced tea. “I’m thinking… swing set along the back there – it’s the perfect view from the kitchen,” Bradley set his fork down. “And a bonfire pit will be fun eventually, but little feet running around the backyard make me anxious… and the Jacuzzi – you know I’d love to take a skinny dip with you, but… it’s just not good for pregnant people, I already Googled it.”

Bradley’s brain short-circuited for a moment.

“And how,” he paused to clear his throat,” how long until we need to start worrying about that?”

“Well I just got my IUD out last week, but my doctor said I can get pregnant in my first cycle,” you dragged your fingertip around the rim of your drinking glass. “Not everyone does, but you’ve always been an overachiever,” you said, meeting his gaze.

“Now? We – now?” Bradley asked, sputtering, patting all over his chest and shorts like he’d misplaced his phone.

“Now,” you nodded, barely getting a moment to gauge his reaction before he was out of his seat, shoulder pressing into your midsection as he hoisted you over his shoulder.

You were sure your neighbors heard the terrified scream that morphed into giggles as he all but kicked the back door in.

“Now?” He said to himself in disbelief, suddenly forgetting the layout of his own home, twisting around in circles to find the staircase. “I can’t believe this, I didn’t do anything to prepare!” He said, not even registering that you were swinging around over his shoulder.

“And what exactly would you have done to prepare?” You asked, wondering if squirrels would completely demolish the spread that laid out on the patio table.

“I don’t know, but I would have done something,” he insisted, taking the stairs by two and only mildly terrifying you.

“Oh my God,” he mumbled, setting you down on the mattress gingerly and immediately reaching for the non-existent fly on his shorts, which were held up on a drawstring. His brain, completely scrambled, was not cooperating and he hastily grabbed the waistband and ripped the shorts down his legs.

God you loved his pale thighs.

“Bradley, you don’t need to hurry!” You laughed.

“Of course I do,” he insisted, kneeling on the bed with one leg between yours, getting to work right away on your button-fly shorts. “I want ‘em all, baby,” he insisted. “Boys, girls – lots of ‘em – and I want ‘em now.”

“I thought we said three max?” You asked, peeling off your own top as he made busywork of your panties.

“Three to start,” he elaborated, “fuck I don’t care.” He shook his head. Pausing, he crawled up to meet you at eye-level. “I love you so much,” he said sincerely. “I can’t wait to be a Dad,” he added, “but more than that, I can’t wait to see you be Mom.” You leaned up to kiss him gently, the same mustache you’d been in love with for years tickling you softly. “You’re sure?” he asked, brows furrowing with just a bit of concern.

“I’ve never been so sure about anything,” you replied, pushing your fingers through his hair. “Thank you for being so patient with me,” you added, “it means more than you know.” Bradley, at the risk of getting choked up, simply kissed you once more before pressing his forehead against yours.

“If I get emotional right now I won’t be able to get hard,” he said honestly, making you giggle.

“You’re going to be such a good Daddy,” you breathed into his ear, nipping at his earlobe.

“Just kidding, I’m hard.”

Now, in the morning light, he was watching with moony eyes as you nuzzled down into your pillow. Your eyes fluttered for a moment as you took stock of all the delicious places you were suddenly acutely aware of with a small twist of your body.

“Mornin,’” Bradley murmured, tucking one hand behind his head.

You groaned gently, eyes squeezing shut tight before softly opening.

“Hi baby,” you greeted, blearily rubbing at your face. Eyes not yet focused, you zeroed in on your husband as he gazed over at you lovingly, his hand moving gently up and down beneath his blanket.

“Hi,” he grinned.

“What are you doing, Bradley?” You giggled, feeling like you were catching your 16-year-old boyfriend.

“Waiting for you to wake up,” he replied. “Ready for day two?” He asked.

“Day two?” You replied with an exasperated smile. “What’s your plan here Bradley?”

“Every day till we get a positive,” he said simply. “If you get pregnant in the next few weeks, we can have a spring baby,” he added.

“Bradley – every day?” You asked, eyes wide.

“I text Hondo, he’s covering for me at lunch next week, Phoenix can take the week after him,” he added.

“Bradley Bradshaw, what did you say to them?” You asked, mildly scandalized.

“Don’t you worry about it, baby,” he grinned, loving the way you rolled your eyes at him.

“Can’t you feed me first?” You asked softly, “the midnight grilled cheese was not enough,” you added. It was also the only time you two had come up for air all night.

“I will,” he assured, pulling the blanket off his body. His erection was pink, the tip wet and veins prominent. “But maybe, just to start the day…” he trailed off as his hand continued to pump up and down his length.

“I am sore,” you countered weakly, eyeing up his anatomy with a wanton gaze.

“I’ll be gentle,” he insisted, “you set the pace,” he added. You nodded, holding open your blanket, and soon, you were sliding down onto him, your body pressed tightly against his from head to toe.

“Oh, Bradley,” you sighed. And though you felt impossibly full, you felt complete. He gently rocked his hips up into you as you curled against his chest. “You’re so good to me,” you whispered, gasping as he hit a tender spot within you.

“You’re the one making my dream come true,” he countered, palming your ass in his hand as he dropped a kiss to the top of your head. “Gonna be the best Mama to our babies,” he encouraged.

You whined gently as he hit your cervix, which you were sure he’d bruised last night, but in the best way possible.

“S’okay,” he murmured, “doing such a good job,” he added, making your skin warm all over. “Doing such a good job.”

For moments, all that could be heard were his steady, even breaths and your soft exhales against his neck.

“Want you to come first,” he said, “I’m right after you – you first, baby.” Bradley did his absolute best to hold back as you gripped at his chest, hugging the underside of his shoulder to you as you fluttered around him. “Good job, good girl,” he looked up at the ceiling, a sweat breaking out across his forehead before he couldn’t hold back any longer. Just the idea that today could be the day they made a baby was enough for him.

“Bradley,” you gasped, his warm cum filling you as his hips jerked up erratically.

“Fuck,” he huffed out in a laugh. “I’m in there, babe,” he panted.

“I can tell,” you blushed, pressing your face into his chest once again. “Can you go make me some breakfast now?” You asked.

“You gotta wait,” he said, planting his feet and pushing his hips up to create a 45-degree angle, raising you up from the bed. “Gotta raise those hips,” he said, matter-of-fact.

“Baby,” you laughed. “Is this real or you just made it up?” You asked, bringing you hands up to brace on either side of his head

“I got a feeling,” he replied. “And it feels nice,” he added, making you blush again. “Next time, you’re gonna be upside down,” he commented.

“Upside down? Bradley, no,” you shook your head with another laugh.

“Baby, I’m gonna fold you every which way till Sunday,” he all but purred. “You’re gonna feel me in here for weeks,” he slapped your bare ass, making you squeal. “Your days as the only person calling me Daddy are over.”

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed Call Him Daddy, you might also like Mighty Fine!

#bradley bradshaw #Bradley rooster bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw smut #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #rooster x reader #rooster fluff #rooster smut #rooster wants to be a daddy #he's been googling #top gun #top gun maverick #Top Gun fic #top gun fan fic

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seleniangnosis · 10 months

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Mid Year Check In 💗🪽

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

Hi everyone 💌🧁! My life is keeping me quite busy, and away from the tumblr tarot community for a while now. I've done this spread for me yesterday, so I decided to share it with you as well.

The reading is intended to provide you with some help and answers on how you've been progressing this year, and a bit of what to expect next 🤍. Pick the picture/pile you're most drawn to and feel free to discard any information that doesn't resonate with you. Enjoy! And reblogs are highly appreciated

Pile 1

Hello pile one and welcome to your reading 🧁🤍

You've entered this year with a goal in mind. Whether be it personal growth and development, topping your class , or building on your finances, you were ready to do whatever it takes to get there. You might have been a bit stubborn with your plan, even to the point where you neglected other life aspects, or for others, you've been very driven on changing the circumstances you've found yourself into for a long while.

You seem to have been extremely diligent with your plans, following them trough, or created a very structured way to get you where you want to be. For those who have jobs, or were job searching, this year has been spent for sure on achieving some sort of financial abundance, or create a foundation for your career, this part is highly similar to my own reading and I can say I truly worked hard this year, so pile 2 congratulations on your hard work, and I hope you're enjoying the fruits of your labour.

You've got so many pentacles cards here pile 2 ,so yeah a lot of focus on personal development, finances, and stability.

Something you've learnt is how to be consistent in your work, life , studies etc, rely on yourself, and how to manage ideas, or maybe a situation when something doesn't go the way you planned it. Some of you might have been focused on creating business connections or just create some stable new connections in regards to work / workplace, or maybe you were focused on finding a workplace where you felt like you can grow and develop your skills.

Something that you'll have to pay more attention to, and might serve as your next lesson is related to some self introspective work, and spending some time with yourself. You seem to have been all on the grinding mindset, so much that you kinda forgot about yourself. Good work ethics are great, but I get the impression that you were overworking yourselves, and you got the results, but detached from yourself and some self care.

If you have a certain goal set in mind, go for it, but not on the expense of your health. I got an intresting mix of cards, which leave me with the idea that you're highly aware you're stressed and have been working your brains out, but you keep going because you already have your mind set on something and only after you get that thing done you'll be able to relax.

Whatever it is pile 1, I'm proud of you, but please don't forget to tend to your needs as well 🤍💌.

Pile 2

Hello pile two and welcome to your reading 🤍🧁

The message of this pile seems to be again centered around money, finances, staring a new job / moving to a different job, work. Some of you might have started as an intern in your first job, or changed your career. You might have felt a personal call to change your orientation and start something new. I'm getting that energy of " should I stay ? should I leave ? What if I get into a much worse situation if I leave this place?" . Maybe, for some of you, your workplace was toxic and no longer suitable, but you were afraid of what could happen if you don't find a better one , or none at all.

Some of you might have took a break and some time to reflect and redefine their goals. I feel like even though you were getting some reward and results, they were not worth the mental exhaustion, the stress , and what you were putting yourself trough.

It's highly possible for you to still be in this energy/ situation, because as the next lesson the universe has in store for you I got something about facing what you're afraid to face. You seem to be caught too often and too tight into your own thoughts, that you're blocking your rational thinking, so you keep yourself away from reaching that freedom. Pike 2 , how stressed you are rn? You're thinking about making a move, making a plan, you get distracted by illusory thoughts, you're back to square one.

You should start looking at the good side of the things as well, not only what can fail or go wrong. Have more faith in yourself pile two 🤍💌!

Pile 3

Hello pile three and welcome to your reading 🤍🧁

The page of pentacles showed up in all 3 piles, but for this one, the energy is centered more on self work and development. For you I'm not getting much about money, work and finances, but about new start and goals around personal development. Your year was more of a journey in the search of what works and what doesn't for you. What improvements can you be making in terms of how you think about yourself, how can you change your mindset and find more fulfilment, rather than resenting yourself for things that didn't work out. Maybe you've even been unsatisfactory with who you were , and spent time improving yourself, making better decisions that bring you healthy benefits, and enjoying the journey of these small new beginnings. You learned to have more faith in yourself, in the fact that you're capable of improving yourself.

As something that you are still about to learn, well when I picked the cards I got " committing to yourself ", so ... commit to yourself. Maybe you feel guilty about how you've changed, and even though it's a positive change for you, others might make you think you're selfish, or a bad person. Maybe you were too tolerant in the past, and now that you've learnt to take better make better decisions, others see you as too self preoccupied.

For the rest of the year your goal should be yourself. Creating stability for yourself, and share it with those like-minded, who appreciate your presence in their lives💌🤍.

#tarot reading #pac reading #tarotblr #pick a pile #pick a card #free tarot reading #tarot spreads #tarot cards #tarotcommunity #tarot spread #free tarot readings #free tarot #tarot pac #daily tarot

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tadpolesonalgae · 8 months

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Azriel x Borrower!reader: The Secret World of Borrowing

A/N: uh, so, yeah…making it so borrowers have little wings in this, so I guess you could just call them fairies at this point.

Warnings: none???? for once??? maybe like bad language if I’m really trying???

Word Count: 3,327

-Part 2-

Anything in excess will do your body no good.

Initially, you had dismissed the thought—living off sugar cubes sounded like absolute heaven. But after about a month of surviving solely off the sweet substance, you’ve begun to dread your next meal.

Your stomach’s rumbling again, so you hop from the burnt out candle pot—cramped as it is—hidden behind a stack of books, perched precariously at the edge of the fae’s desks. So far, you’ve managed to avoid them all, darting behind teacups or ducking beneath the lip of a plate, and soon, you’ll be done with them. Just one more week, and your shimmery, iridescent wing will be fully operational.

It’s already been three since that dreadful storm that had sent you whipping through the air, smacking into the wooden frame of what you’ve now pieced together was a window ledge. From there on, you’d used your small reserves of magic to bind and set your wing, but it’s been lessening your healing powers—hence the exacerbated pain and elongated recovery time.

Slowly, carefully, you peek out from behind the towering stacks of parchment, spotting the sugar jar that’s kept on the desk. A quick scan of the room tells you the fae that inhabits it is not around at the moment. While you’ve made a point of remaining hidden and out of sight, you’ve noted a few peculiar things about the male. There’s a strange darkness that wafts around him, a bleakness that surrounds his wings—great things, that stick out from his back and loom over his shoulders! He has an odd sort of schedule, too. Blasted male. He often works late into the nights—confining you to your too-small candle pot that’s cramped, and stuffy, and really not good for your healing wing.

But you can blame him for all those wrongs until the day you die—for now, your keen nose is picking up a delicious smell. Doing another scan, you peek out further, to spot a plate laden with food.

Dear Mother, it’s one of the most beautiful sights you’ve ever seen. You ignore the meat at the side, instead staring at the beans, and salad, and beside the plate— Berries! You could dance, leap for joy, cry, or sob, at the welcomed sight. You rush out, darting over the grain of the wooden desk. The small, glass bowl comes up to your stomach—a little taller than the plate—and you eagerly grab a berry.

The food is still warm though, which means he will likely be returning at some point soon. You turn, scanning the flat expanse of his desk. There’s a metal-looking container, housing some ink pens. That will do perfectly well should he return.

You open your mouth, poised to chomp down on the berry, when the hairs on your neck rise. Then something snags your ankles, pulling you off balance. A tiny scream spills from your lips as you drop the berry, face smacking into the desk. Quickly, you flip over, ignoring the blood dripping down your upper lip. It’s that darkness he’s always wrapped in, but—why is it bothering you? You didn’t know it could detach from him? That’s unfair!

You shoo it away, kicking your legs but it curls higher, tentatively. You snarl, writhing more frantically as it creeps up your knee, over your thigh. A growl rips from your throat in warning, but it doesn’t listen. Instead, more darkness swells, wrapping up your hips and around your waist. You shriek in anger, practically vibrating as the shadows press and push at your skin.

The final straw comes when you receive a pinch on the ass, red colouring your vision as magic wraps around your hands and you grip a strand of darkness firmly, yanking it off your body as if it were some weak rope. The darkness twitches, writhing in your hand, suddenly desperate to get away from you. “That’s what I thought,” you snap, indignantly, tossing it off you.

It slinks away, once again leaving you to the berry. You huff, wiping your nose on your forearm, attempting to get rid of the blood. But then you’re knocked into from behind, making you stumble. The shadows coil, springing forward, tackling you to the wooden desk as they keep you pinned. You struggle and writhe, worried about what this position will do to your wing, but then you hear the ominous scuff of boots in the hallway.

Panic surges in your chest, and you once again coat your hands in magic, but the shadows have learned from last time, shackling your wrists to the wood so you’re unable to touch them. You snarl in fury, pushing the magic to your mouth as you sink your teeth into the shadow. It twitches and jerks about, but you hold fast. The constraints remove themselves from your wrists, and you take the chance to flip the shadow over—the others that had been holding you down skittering away, scrambling for cover.

With your hands now free, you keep it pinned to the table, slamming your magic coated fists into it, beating it off you until—

Reinforcements have come, and they’re dragging you off the smaller shadow that’s twitching and flickering. “Let me go!” You snarl, tugging against the restraints, “it started first! Let me finish it!”

The door swings open, and you all freeze.

It only takes a second, but then his hazel eyes have landed on you, piercing into your form as he stiffens. His shadows release you, darting away as if they were completely innocent, and then you’re scrambling for cover. You were mistaken though, his shadows didn’t go into hiding. They were grabbing a jar.

You slam into the glass, a fresh wave of blood running down your upper lip as you smack your palms into the glass—to no avail. On the bright side, the berry’s in here with you. You grab it, placing it between you and the edge the desk, between you and the approaching male.

His eyes are marginally widened as he comes to a stop, pausing warily as he takes you in. You go rigid under his scrutinising gaze, crouching down behind the berry. It only comes up to your knees, but it’s better than nothing. A shadow curls over his ear, and you hiss at it, backing as far against the glass as you can, keeping your magic on hand.

Slowly, he pulls out the chair, lowering himself into the seat, still staring at you. You offer him your most scathing glare, trying not to be too intimidated by his size and piercing eyes. “Let me go,” you shout, scrunching your hands into fists over the berry. His features shift into mild shock, or surprise. “You can…talk.”

You don’t lessen your glare, instead you make it harder. “Of course I can talk, you blithering idiot! Why wouldn’t I be able to talk?” You snap furiously, nails sinking into your palms. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, bracing his fingers on the table. Your eyes dart to his hands, cringing further back against the glass.

He lowers his hands, and you stop trying to push through the jar.

“You…what are you?” He asks, settling his hands on the wooden chair arms. Your nose wrinkles as you stare at him for a long moment. Then, “I’m a Borrower,” you spit out, “and you have no right to keep me here. None. So let me go.”

Again, he shifts in his chair, those great, powerful wings at his back catching in the light, showing off the gilt looking membrane of the inner skin. “You’re a what?” He asks slowly, as if your size would somehow interfere with the speed you hear. “I’m a Borrower. And I’m not dim. I can hear you perfectly fine. Just a bit muffled through the glass,” you snap pointedly, eyeing the confinement he’s trapped you in.

He’s quiet for a while, and your heart spikes. What’s he going to do with you? With his size, and shadows, a number of cruel fates await, all because you’re a little too small for him to consider a life form. He raises his hand to rub over his mouth, appearing in thought. Then, “you’re the creature the made those little footprints, aren’t you.”

You blink, caught of guard, “I— What?” He nods his head, as if confirming something. “You got stuck in the gravy, didn’t you? That’s where those marks came from.” You flush with embarrassment, baring your teeth at him, “it’s your damn fault for swamping your food in that rutting sauce,” you snarl viciously, remembering how the gloopy liquid had come up to your thighs in some places. It had taken a lot of work to get clean again.

He nods quietly, watching you with those piercing hazel eyes of his that make you want to curl up in your candle pot. “I’m Azriel,” he says at last, making you jump. “What’s your name? Or are you just called Borrower?” He inquires, seemingly earnestly. It doesn’t stop the fumes pouring from your pointed ears, “is my name Borrower?” You repeat, rage building in the pit of your belly.

“Insolent! Arrogant! The lot of you!” You shout at him through the glass, magic flaring in your palms, but you tamp it down. “We have names, just like you. How would you like it if we all insisted on calling you by your kind’s name?” You snap aggressively. His brows raise a little at your outburst, raising his palms in what you guess is supposed to be a calming gesture. Red tints your vision, “don’t you try and placate me! Condescending brute!”

“I meant no harm,” he says, “but I want your name. So I know what to call you.”

You hesitate, pausing your rampage. “Why should I tell you my name?” You ask, eyes narrowing on the male. He makes another calming gesture, and you settle a little, “I’m not trying to antagonise you—you’re a creature I’ve never even heard of before, so I’m going about this as logically as possible,” he replies smoothly. You deflate a little at how genuine he sounds. “So,” he says, sensing your mood calm, “what is your name?"

Your head dips down for a moment, hands wringing in your lap as you keep near your berry. “I…I don’t know,” you stammer, softly. His brow furrows in confusion, “what do you mean you don’t know?” Your eyes flit about, darting away from his. “My mother… I can’t read. She wrote my name down for me, so I would never forget it, but I was never told what it was.” You laugh quietly to yourself, “three hundred years, and I’ve never gotten the chance to learn. Or ask…” His eyes soften at your harrowing tale.

“I could read it,” he offers. You peer up at him with wide eyes. “Provided it’s in a language I know,” he adds, hastily. You suppress the urge to snap at him that you have the same language, why would it be written differently? Instead dip your head almost imperceptibly.

You get to your feet, hesitantly making your way to the front of the clear glass jar. He leans in closer to be able to see and you reach into one of your pockets, then pull out your fisted hand, holding it out toward the glass. Azriel squints a little as he peers closer, hoping to at least give you the knowledge of your name…and after three hundred years, too.

Daintily, you raise your middle finger, effectively flipping him off, “eat shit and die, asshole.”

Silence stretches between you, a storm brewing in the air, and you tense, waiting for him to break upon you. But then he huffs out a puff of air, and his eyes are crinkling and he’s laughing, chuckling softly to himself. You stare with wide eyes, tiny finger still raised in defiance as he laughs to himself.

You flush with indignation—he should be furious! “Hey!” You snap. “I don’t know what the hell you’re laughing at. It’s not funny.” He laughs harder, hiding his face in his the crook of his elbow and you watch his shoulders tremble as he attempts to control himself. “Hey!” You repeat, a little bewildered, “Azriel!”

After a few moments, and a few more deep breaths, he raises his head so he can peer at you. You take a few shuffling steps back away from him, returning to your berry. “If you won’t tell me your name,” he says, smiling faintly, “will you at least tell me what you were getting into a scrap about with my shadows?”

“They attacked me first,” you snap at him, scowling. His eyes flick over your bloody nose, “you were stealing my food.” You narrow your eyes at him, “I was hungry.”

“So you thought stealing was a good idea?”

“You shouldn’t leave food out where nasty little Borrowers can get their grubby little hands on it,” you counter, folding your arms over your chest.

He pauses, eyes running over you properly. “Why are you in my room?” You know he marks the way you stiffen, but you force every ounce of nonchalance you have into your body as you shift your weight to one hip, examining your nails that aren’t as clean as you would like. “Because I seem to come by a lot of free meals.”

It’s his turn to furrow his brows, leaning closer, examining you, “how long have you been in here?”

“Long enough to know you’re a cranky old bastard who’s so obsessed with his work he’s unable to notice when a little thing like me sneaks in,” you reply smoothly, holding your own as he stares at you. He nods again, “a while, then.” You nod, giving him a smarmy little smile.

He leans forward more, resting his cheek on his forearm as he looks at you sidewards. Gods—he’s so much bigger than you. “Where have you been relieving yourself, then?” You’re stunned for a moment, before you dig your nails into your palms, stomping forward to the edge of the glass cage. “In your food,” you snarl angrily, flushing at the rude question. His lips quirk up at that, crossing his arms over the desk as he rests his chin on the table, “I’d been wondering what that sweet flavour was.”

“You crass, brazen, pig,” you snap indignantly, absolutely appalled.

He chuckles again, seemingly enjoying getting under your skin. “You Big Ones are all the same,” you hiss. “You’re rude, disgusting, and have no concept of manners.” He blinks as you blow off some steam, going on a rant that matches your size. “Big Ones?” He asks, “is that your name for my kind?” You nod in response, a stern dip of your chin. “So are you a Little One, then?” He asks, mildly pleased when your lip curls back from your teeth. How can something so small carry so much anger in her little body? He’s surprised you can fit it all in. “Don’t call me that,” you snap, plumes of smoke practically shooting from your little ears, “it is rude.”

His smirk widens, “what about Tiny? Or Goblin?” Your lips part in astonishment, “I am not a goblin.” A tiny foot stomps down on the desk. “You might be a goblin,” he says, amusement dancing in his hazel eyes. “They’re old wives tales. Folklore, nothing more,” you snap indignantly, tapping a tiny, impatient foot on the wood. “I don’t know what they look like,” he reasons.

You scowl at him, “they’re ugly little things.” He smiles a little, a single dimple appearing beside the edge of his mouth, “they could be lovely, little things with ugly tempers.” You snarl at the taunt, practically vibrating with anger.

“Is this how you’re going to torture me? By boring me to death? Pretty unimaginative, if you ask me,” you snarl, nails digging into your palms as you glare at him. He regards you silently; it’s an effort not to shift beneath his gaze. “What makes you think I’ll hurt you?” He asks softly, watching from beneath dark, silky locks that curl over his brow. You narrow your eyes at the male suspiciously, “it’s what you do. Don’t try and make a fool out of me. I know your kind’s tricks.”

His frown deepens, watching you in his glass jar. “I’m not going to hurt you, or torture you, for that matter,” he says at last. It’s your turn to frown, “you’re letting me go?” His eyes narrow a little as he peers at you closely. “Do you want to stay?” You take a subconscious step away from the edge of the jar, then shake your head.

Azriel sighs, then removes the confinement, releasing you back into the world. “Go on,” he says, nodding to the window. “Get a move on.” You flush, eyeing the distance from the opening far above to the level of his desk—to your eyes, at least. Turning back to him, you scowl, “I’m not even allowed my food?” He arches a single brow, lips quirking at their corners, “I would have thought you’d be leaping at the chance of freedom.”

“Well, I don’t want you watching me,” you snap, folding your arms over your chest standoffishly. He smirks, “oh yeah?”

You scowl. “Yes.”

He leans back in his seat, wings flexing at his back, making your working one twitch in response. “So it’s nothing to do with the bandage around you wing, there?” He points, and you try to tuck them in tight, but a spike of pain licks up your spine, making you bite your lip. You shake your head adamantly, “I’m fine.”

He hums in response, and before you know it, his shadows have you by the waist, the ankles—everywhere. You shriek with anger as he lifts you into the air, depositing you back into the jar, this time with it the correct way up. His shadows give you an unfriendly shove once you’ve settled, and you snap your jaws at them, making them hurriedly scuttle away.

“So if I leave you now, you’ll be gone when I return?” He asks, brow raised in silent taunt—he knows something’s wrong. You narrow your eyes, but say nothing. Amusement gleams in his gaze, triumph and satisfaction quietly mocking you as you scowl.

He rolls his shoulders, muscle shifting beneath his leathers, “I don’t think I can trust you not to go through my things, or to try and escape only to get yourself killed in the process…” He drawls. “How long until it’s healed? You can stay until you’re ready for flight.”

You’re too stunned to speak.

He’s offering to…help you?

Can’t be.

“In exchange for what, exactly?” You ask warily, squinting at him. He laughs a little at that, and you’re confused why. “Can’t it just be for the pleasure of your wonderful company?” He asks, deep voice lilting with mirth. Still, your brow narrows into a scathing glare, “you want me for your pleasure? Is that it?” You spit out, feigning fury even as terror warms your lower belly.

His grin widens, “with your size? What could I ever do with you?” He inquires, laughing, “have you run up and down my skin with those tiny, bare feet of yours?”

A wild flush warms your cheeks at the image, making you snarl. “Laugh all you want. I know what your kind is like.” He gives you a challenging look, “pray tell.”

“You’re crass, cruel, and lewd. You won’t trick me,” you declare.

“‘Crass, cruel, and lewd,’ huh?” He repeats, smiling faintly, leaning in a little, “sounds like a good night, to me.”

Your jaw drops open, rendered speechless. Then red is seeping in, and magic coats your hands as tiny fists slam into the glass. “Big! Arrogant!” You snarl, fractures spiderwebbing through the jar.

“You’re going to rot in hell for that, Azriel!”

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch

#Azriel #Azriel x reader #Azriel shadowsinger #The Secret World Of Borrowing #TSWOB #TSWOB Part 1

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cherubify · 2 months

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notes: vendetta/di chris, is this fluff?, gym setting, chris is an awkward gym bro, drabble / sfw

for chris, a good gym requires two simple conditions: a functioning ventilation system and sufficient iron to pump. nothing else matters. if he's lucky maybe it'll smell like air fresheners and if he's extra lucky, sanitisers. it doesn't bother him that some people dress little enough for one's imagination, or the fact that some gym goers smell like they dumpster dive back to back. he's here to do one thing only, and that's to get stronger and bigger– so that he can be ready for anything.

and he won't admit it, but he also comes for another reason.

you sit on the bench, a towel on your head as you exhale softly. he's already detaching the weights from his equipment beside you, but you don't notice him (like usual). your eyes are glued to your phone as you do goodness knows what, he guesses you're taking note of the reps you just completed.

he doesn't mean to be nosey– and he keeps to himself for the most part– but he knows all the regulars and he's never seen you before up until a month ago. your routine is simple, lift and end your day with a run. you're always coincidentally within his line of sight; it's not like he's been particularly observing you or anything.

your routines clashes with his sometimes, like when he benches so do you, and you unknowingly accompany him on a run on a treadmill. (read: though he thinks its time he slows down on the speed setting because his knees are increasingly unwilling to comply...guess it comes with age.)

hey. he wants to call out to you with these words. congrats on your new PR.

but you can't hear him. not with the towel on your head and the lack of psychic powers. but it's almost as if you can hear him, because you offer him a side glance. his heart jumps in his chest as your eyes clearly meet his. if it weren't for the lack of a smile on your face, he would definitely voice those thoughts.

you stand up, or try to until you wobble sideways. things happen in a blur– the carpet was inches away when you fall into a strong pair of arms. your phone tumbles onto the floor as your towel slips off your head when you look up at the stranger. the brunette's face was inches away from yours, big arms awkwardly wrapping around your smaller frame. you were dwarfed in his hold, and you swallow nervously as he knits his brows.

"are you alright?" he's close enough that you can smell his morning mints. your breath hitches in your throat as he inspects your flustered expression.

"y-yeah," you force out, though it comes out in a squeak. your face heats up and you scrape your shoes against the floor, struggling to stand. "just got a little dizzy. i forgot to take breakfast."

"oh-" he helps you onto your feet before frantically fishing for something in his pockets. "-wait a sec."

he fumbles before whipping out a protein bar, a tiny rectangle juxtaposed with his large hand. he holds it out to you and you hesitantly take it. you read the packaging. a chocolate brownie protein bar... with 20 grams of protein.

"um, thanks," you pick up your phone, eyes still on him. "it's my first time meeting you, i think. your name is..?"

"chris, you can call me chris," he answers as he scoops up your towel. you take it from him, a small smile on your lips.

"well chris," you hold everything in one hand, the other hand nervously stroking the hem of your sports bra. "i gotta go, but i guess i'll see you around?"

he nods solemnly, and you stand there for a moment before leaving. you consider taking one last glance, but you decide against it, rushing into the changing room instead.

meanwhile, chris exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding. he plops onto a bench, thoughtfully rubbing the stubble that peppers his chin. he hopes he'll have time to come by again tomorrow.

all content written by @cherubify ! do not repost, edit, plagiarise, or use my work for AI. requests are indefinitely open.

#resident evil #resident evil chris redfield #resident evil drabble #resident evil x reader #chris redfield #chris redfield blurb #chris redfield x y/n #chris redfield x you #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield drabble #chris redfield oneshot #chris redfield fluff

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thegildedbee · 12 days

Text

Eavesdrop/Nightmare: May 14 & 15 Prompts from @calaisreno

The mail he’d retrieved from 221B has now sat on Harry’s kitchen table for three days. He’d felt drained that first evening, and couldn’t get himself to care enough to summon the energy to look through it; he figured after a night’s sleep he’d be able to focus on it in the morning. Except that he hadn’t felt that he wanted to start the day with the mail, not knowing if it would then throw the rest of the day off-kilter: best to tackle it at the end of the day.

Except that the white envelopes had glared too brightly in the kitchen light that evening, making his eyes hurt, and when he turned down the lights, the pile seemed best left alone in the halftoned dimness.

When he had sat down today with a ham and cheese sandwich at lunch time, Harry had loomed over him, set down a rubbish bin, and pointed at the pile, her eyes narrowed.

“It’s not going to sort itself, John,” she says, as she sits down opposite him. “Maybe sorting out the pile will get you sorted.”

He takes a bite of his sandwich and screws up his face. “Ha, ha, very funny, Harry.”

“Here, little brother. I bet I can coax you with one of these,” she says, pulling a chocolate orange from her pocket and detaching a slice. “For every handful you get through, I’ll give you a slice as a reward.”

“Omigod, Harry, I’m not five years old.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Prove it. Chin up, Johnny.”

John grimaces. “All right. But I want a chocolate slice up front, in addition to the one that comes after I get through a stack.”

She rolls her eyes. “Okay. Deal.” She picks up three envelopes and places a chocolate piece on top and hands them over, and gets back up. “I’m gonna make a cuppa – do you want one?”

“Of course, thanks.”

John chews and sorts, and sorts and chews; most of the pieces of mail do end up being binned. He sets aside a few that are from former clients; two of them had cheques inside. He’s been separating out what are likely to be condolence cards, and looks askance at them when he’s done.

Harry nods approvingly, handing him a chocolate orange slice. He sighs. She hands him a second slice, and he gives her a sheepish whisper of a smile.

What’s left are various advertising circulars for neighborhood stores and local take-away menus. In some ways these make him sadder than the stack of condolence cards. He can’t bring himself to bin any of those items and pushes them aside, and idly pulls a multi-page brochure toward himself. It’s glossy and expensive, like part of an informational campaign for the latest flash Mercedes or BMW, and has a full-scale photo of a moto-cross athlete off in some canyon area, who has made a spectacular leap from an outcropping with his machine, hanging in mid-air.

"What’s that?” Harry asks.

John shrugs, “Some sort of impact absorbent material for athletes.”

“For athletes?” she teases. “Then how’d you get on their mailing list? Your rugby days are a bit beyond you, mate.”

“Ah, sod off, Harry. I dunno," he says, flipping through the pages and seeing all the images of lab equipment and white coats. "Maybe it was something Sherlock was into. Looks like geeky chemistry stuff.”

“That may be so, but it’s your name on the address, not his.”

“Maybe because I was his blogger. Who cares? It’s not relevant to anything,” he says dismissively, tossing it in the bin.

“Well, here’s the rest of the orange. I’ve got things to do, and places to be. I’ll see you later this evening, probably after dinner time, yeah?”

“Sure, no problem. See you later.”

John reaches for the chocolate, a ragged, pensive mood settling in. He looks down at the brochure lying on top of the other discards in the bin, and then slowly turns to look intently at the stack of condolence cards. Reluctantly, he goes back-and-forth once more, and then stills.

Bodies flying through the air. Bodies falling. Bodies crashing. The familiar stuff of his nightmares. But something tweaks inside his head, and he tries to refocus on whatever fleeting point has flickered on, then off, before he can catch hold of it.

Bodies flying through the air, wearing protective material. Bodies falling, buffered by protective material. Bodies crashing, withstanding the impact due to protective material.

No! he says emphatically to himself, as his mind suggests that maybe, just maybe, his flying detective might have been similarly outfitted. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Of course not. It’s absurd to think that. After all, he saw Sherlock’s body up close, felt for a pulse that wasn’t there.

He tries to calm his breathing, and to think logically, and not let his mind race along imaginary paths. No, of course not. Even if Sherlock had been wearing something like this, it doesn’t mean he survived the fall. And if he had, why would he have let everyone think him dead?

Just a magic trick, John.

John suddenly stands up and shakes his head in frustration. Is he finally going 'round the twist?

Surely, there would have been a sign. He looks down at the brochure, full of images of athletes doing extreme sports, and soldiers, and probably stunt people from motion pictures.

He walks over to the sitting room so that he can grab a sofa cushion, and then furiously punches it over and over and over again, hurls it across the room in disgust when he’s finished, and then collapses into the nearest chair.

Maybe he should he talk to someone? Who would he talk to? Mycroft? Um, no, he snorts. As if that fucker would ever give a straight answer. Plus he’d probably have him sectioned on the spot. Mrs. Hudson? What if there are other oddities to be accounted for? Even if she didn’t turn him away from her doorstep, looking at him pityingly, it probably wouldn’t do to discuss such things at Baker Street. Big brother was probably still eavesdropping, because, why not? Does a leopard change its spots?

And then the picture of Anderson showing up on his doorstep a few weeks back floats into his mind. It was a few weeks back, yeah? What had Anderson said? Something about Sherlock not being dead and his having picked up traces that showed that he’d been in Europe. At least John thinks that's what he said. The roaring in his ears before he smashed Anderson’s nose might have distorted whatever the tosser had been going on about.

Disbelievingly, John thinks: Perhaps he should go to see Anderson? Maybe, John says to himself, shaking his head in doubt, a sour taste in his mouth. Surely not, he responds.

But what if what Anderson has to say isn't impossible; only improbable? John has no idea what to do. At this moment, for now, the only decision he's capable of making . . . is no decision at all.

........................................................ @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @friday411 @peanitbear @original-welovethebeekeeper @helloliriels @a-victorian-girl @keirgreeneyes @starrla89 @naefelldaurk

@topsyturvy-turtely @lisbeth-kk @raina-at @jobooksncoffee @meetinginsamarra @solarmama-plantsareneat @bluebellofbakerstreet @dragonnan @safedistancefrombeingsmart @jolieblack

@msladysmith @ninasnakie @riversong912 @dapetty

.............................................................................

#mayprompts2024 #calaisreno #sherlock bits and bobs #may prompts 2024 #johnlock

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zaenaris · 5 months

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Anime-only adaptations I really enjoyed

I really loved how the anime staff pour their love in the flashback and in the parts where the characters are described the most (bc, in the end, TR is a story driven by characters, not plot), so yeah, kudos for the kokonui, kakuiza and Kisaki centric parts that were not in thee manga and that were added as a ponderate choice by the anime team.

In chronological order

When Takemichi calls him with his nickname "Kaku-chan", Kakucho hesitates before killing him, while in the manga (ch.134) when Izana orders him to kill Takemichi, he just does it with no mercy. The result is the same, but in the anime we saw Kakucho's struggle

The parts about Koko and Inupi, their past and their fight (2x21 or ep.8 of the 2nd coure of S2). It is a very emotional and crude part also in the manga, but in the anime, thanks to some changes/adaptations/voice acting and music, manages to be even more emotional and impactful, while remaining faithful to the manga. That's how an adaptation should be done

First of all, the kiss

while, story-wise, it's clear the kiss is not fanservice, but an important moment to understand their past and their complicated relationship, no one can deny the anime kiss looks even more passionate than the manga version

Among the people that approached Koko in the manga for money reasons, only Izana and Taiju were mentioned (ch.159), meanwhile in the manga, besides them, were added also Madarame Shion - an anime only addition-

and the Haitani Brothers, as a nod to Wakui's birthday art for Koko

I already talked about it here and partially here but, in short, I like how the anime underlines even better that Koko considers himself unredeemable and incapable of detach his own identity to make money illegally

and honestly, peak adaptation: the transition to younger Koko to Tenjiku!Koko saying the same line, to make us understand that Koko still feels incredibly guilty about the past...

... and the fact both Inupi and Koko cry in this scene, a moment that there wasn't in the manga and that was an incredibly beautiful and touching addition

but while manga!Koko -ch.159- at this point is just resigned and "colder" in his decision to stay with Tenjiku, just like also manga!Inupi already calmed down, anime!Inupi is both fed up with the situation but willing to makes things right and very determined..

while anime!Koko is destroyed, he doesn't even stand up when Inupi punches him (I already talked about it here)

the little addition of Kakucho in the flashback when Shinichiro goes to say hi to Izana to take him out with him. Izana's favourite people "interacting" was nice (too bad the animation quality was a little meh in this episode, but I understand we can't have peak quality all the time)

Kakucho with Izana when he finds again Karen by chance and she tells his she's not his biological mother and he's not related to any of the Sano. It the manga Izana was alone, adding Kakucho was nice because the situation is still terrible, Izana sees his whole world collapsing on himself, but at least he has Kakucho

last one, Kisaki's "I wanted to be like you" that humanizes him a little. In the manga his death was quick and brutal. We can understands, reading the manga, he had this superiority/inferiority complex towards Takemichi, but the anime explains it more clearly (I talked a bit about it here )

Maybe there's something else that was an anime-only adaptation that made sense, even improved the already existent narration, but I probably don't remember it. These are the ones that imho, are the most important both for the characters and the narration.

I love how Liden Film followed faithfully the story but added "more heart" to it, that's what a good adaptation should do

#tokyo revengers #kisaki tetta #kokonoi hajime #inui seishu #izana kurokawa #kakucho hitto #kakuiza #kokonui #inukoko #sano shinichiro #zae talks about tr #anime manga comparison #zaenaris #haitani brothers #haitani rindou #haitani ran #hanagaki takemichi

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whumpshaped · 5 months

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anon asked:

A villain that's being tortured by the hero, because the hero thinks they had something to do with the death of their teammate. But villain didn't have anything to do, it was all supervillains plan, but hero doesn't listen to them. Even if they beg, scream, or plead, the hero doesn't... doesn't behave like a hero. Where did all that mercy go?

---

tw death mention, murder mention, interrogation (sort of), torture, burns, revenge (directed at the wrong person)

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Villain screamed, tears streaming down their face from the utter agony Hero had put them through so far; and which they showed no signs of stopping. “I had nothing to do with it! Do you think I even know all your dumb fucking friends? Do you think I spend my day hunting them down? I barely care about you!”

Hero didn’t seem fazed. They didn’t even seem angry, really, and that was the scariest part. They seemed cold and detached, devoid of all the good parts of their public persona. All Villain was left with was everything else, the things Hero cleverly dressed up in flourish and respectable morals: brutal efficiency, a calculating mind, and the terrifying ability to pinpoint others’ weaknesses.

They would’ve made a vicious villain, a fact Villain liked to taunt them with every now and then. Hero always came back with some ridiculous monologue about how all the wealth in the world was nothing compared to the worthy cause of helping others. Villain really, really wished they’d launch into a monologue like that right about now.

“Say, does fire hurt you at all?” Hero asked instead, unfeeling eyes boring into their soul. “I know it doesn’t kill you. Does it hurt?”

“Hero, listen to me. I’m not the one you fucking want! You’re torturing the wrong guy! Do you not care about it at all? Are you just torturing me for the sake of it? Because if so, maybe we’re on the same fucking team!”

Hero didn’t answer. They grabbed a lighter from the table next to them and put it right under Villain’s chin, and they couldn’t do anything except crane their head to get as far away from it as possible. “I suppose it does, yeah? You wouldn’t be squirming so much if it didn’t.”

“Please!” they blurted out, their angry facade crumbling under the threat of third degree burns. “Please, I’m telling the truth! I had nothing to do with it! I don’t know who did it! I would tell you, I swear I would! Hell, I can help you hunt them down, just listen to me! You’re supposed to be the good guy! You’re supposed to be just!” Their voice was getting more and more desperate, and while they weren’t proud of it, they wouldn’t be proud of several burn scars on their face and neck either. At least the memory would fade away.

“Just?”

Hero flicked the little thing on, and the flame started licking at the sensitive skin of their throat. They could withstand the heat better than regular people, but they couldn’t take it forever — an inhuman scream was eventually ripped from their chest as it became too much, too painful, too hot. Hero didn’t seem to care. They continued dragging the lighter along their jawline, grabbing them by the hair to steady them when they started thrashing too much.

By the end of it, Villain was a sobbing mess, unable to even let their head hang. It hurt too much. It was ironic, the fact that they’d be forced to walk around with their head held high, because putting it down would be all too painful.

“It wasn’t just when I lost my friend to your little scheme.” Hero tossed the lighter back onto the table. Some of their anger was seeping through their words, now, and Villain would’ve grovelled and apologised at the sound of it, had they been the one responsible for the murder.

When they saw Hero grab the can of gasoline, they decided it didn’t matter whether they were responsible. “It wasn’t! It was unfair, and I’m sorry! I– Do you want me to say it was me? What do you want? What do you want from me? Even if I was responsible, what would this change? I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do to help you, but I’ll– I’ll do anything! I’ll be a spy, I’ll be a fucking rat, I’ll help you catch whoever did it! I’ll stop with my little schemes! Please!”

None of their pleas were heard. Hero completely doused them, not caring whether the liquid would make the previous burns worse. Villain supposed it didn’t matter, not when they were about to do something so much worse.

They coughed and sputtered and tried to get the disgusting taste out of their mouth at least, but they couldn’t get it off their face enough to open their eyes and see what was going on. In the end, they didn’t have to. They could hear it very clearly when Hero lit a match.

And the rest? The rest they could feel.

#asks #whump #whump drabble #hero villain whump #death mention #murder mention #interrogation #torture #burns #revenge

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baldval · 2 months

Text

ART DECO PART 3!₊˚⊹♡

characters: valentino x gn!reader

wc: 2.2k

warnings: cursing, allusions to smut, mentions of drug use, sligthly ooc val.

a/n: decided to give you guys a whole lot of fluff as an apology for last chapter, hope you like this!!!!

series masterlist!

"-and I mean, I know it's a fuckin' tough challenge to make her look good in blue, but I think we can do it. I don't know what's Vox obsession with that colour, like- our whoole campaign doesn NOT have to be all fucking blue. I don't even know why we need a campaign. We've got enough people on our side, and I got a call from Zeezi this morning - I'm gonna see if I can convince her. So, we definitely need you in that fuckin' meeting."

Silence.

"Are you even fucking listening to me? Hello?"

"... What?"

"I said, we need you at the meeting this afternoon. Vox made me promise I'd show up with you."

"Oh. Yeah, sure. Whatever."

Velvette looks you up and down carefully, brows quirked in curiosity.

"The fuck is going on with you? You've been super weird these last couple of weeks."

That confirms your suspicions that Vox hasn't told anyone about that day at Valentino's apartment. You were wondering if he had.

"I'm just... tired. I'm fine. Don't worry about me, okay?"

Velvette doesn't look convinced, but nods anyway.

"Come on," she says, jumping from his chair. "We better get to that meeting early, Vox wants to talk strategy."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You're sitting silently, curled up in an expensive leather chair. Vox and Velvette are talking business, the complex jargon going straight over your head. You're in a world of your own, completely detached from your current reality, when you hear it.

Velvette says it off hand, not thinking anything of it. You watch as Vox flinches ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly. Your throat tightens, your heart kicks up in your chest. Then, she says it again.

His name.

Valentino.

"I know if you push him the right way, Valentino could do anything you want him to do, you just need to make it look like it's his idea."

Valentino.

Valentino, Valentino, Valentino.

The word plays on repeat in your mind, like a broken record. Vox's eyes flick to you, as if to gauge your reaction, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction. You haven't spoken since your argument, which makes most work things hard, considering he is your boss. You worried Velvette was starting to suspect something, seeing as how she always had to deliver messages from Vox to you.

"Yeah, yeah, I know we can use him, I just think, maybe, he's a bit... how can i say this? an impulsive bastard?" He glances at you before he says. "I know he's been doing some things I know he's regretting."

Velvette is oblivious to Vox's reluctance to speak on the subject, clearly.

"Well it's Valentino, when is he not impulsive? can you fuckin' talk to him or something? You know, I think you're like the only person he'll actually listen to."

Vox's eyes are darting between you and Velvette frantically.

"Yeah, sure. I'll talk to him."

You scoff under your breath, but he hears it.

"You got something to fuckin' say, Princess? Huh?"

Princess. You haven't heard that one in a while. It was a nickname given to you by the rest of your coworkers, seeing as you were pretty much Vox's favourite employee. At least you used to be. He wants to get under your skin, throwing the term in your face.

"Nothing you haven't said already," you say, biting your tongue, Vox knows you're lying.

He's about to make another sarcastic remark when Vox's assistant enters the room, cutting the moment short. You're not sure if you're grateful or spiteful.

One by one, your coworkers file in, taking their seats at the table. You're holding your breath, sitting at the edge of your chair, waiting for the inevitable. You can predict it now, the way you're going to feel when he walks in - chest tight, lungs knotted, fists clenched.

Valentino walks in, and the opposite happens.

You exhale your held breath, and relax slightly. The tension leaves your shoulders for a moment, your lip gets released from in between your teeth. It's like seeing him has cured you, even temporarily. As if he's your own brand of medicine, your personalised prescription.

His eyes catch yours, and you have a silent conversation. So much is said in such a short time.

Hi. Hi. Are you okay? No, are you? No. Not at all.

The room is oblivious to this emotional exchange - except for your boss. Vox watches Val's every move like a hawk. He's trying to figure out if the two of you are still together, still sneaking around behind his back. Val hadn't spoken to him since he stormed out of his apartment, meaning he has no idea about the events that occurred after his departure.

The meeting goes off as usual, full of tension and sniped remarks. You don't listen to a word anyone says, too focused on keeping your attention away from Valentino across the table. You're determined not to look at him. You know that if you do, he'll see right through you. He'll know how you really feel. And that is something you're not at all prepared for.

"Okay, well, if no one else has anything they'd like to cover, I think we're done here. Meeting adjourned."

Everyone rises from their places, shaking hands and having quick discussions before leaving through the tall glass doors. You stay put, in no rush to exit. Vox approaches Valentino, and you watch the exchange with a clenched jaw.

"Hey, uh... yeah, we need to talk. I think we should talk."

Val takes a long, hard look at Vox, before chuckling humourlessly.

"Hmm... Not sure if I've got something to day to you though."

Your boss stays stuck in his place, staring at the floor beneath him. As Val leaves, he can't resist running his fingers across your shoulders gently. You look back at him, but he's already gone.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Home doesn't feel like home anymore.

Everywhere you look, you're reminded of Valentino.

You're in the kitchen, and all you can think about is the time the two of you slow danced in the middle of the night, slipping and sliding on the tiled floor. There's a half finished bottle of wine on the counter, abandoned in favour of gliding around the room in your socks. Val clicks on some low, jazzy music, and pulls you into his arms. You feel like you finally belong somewhere.

You're in the bathroom, and you can't stop thinking about when the two of you took a bubble bath together, lavender scented steam filling the air. Your back is pressed to Val's chest, sitting in between his legs as he massages the shampoo into your hair. He's humming softly, a song his Mother used to sing when he was a child. There's not an ounce of tension in either of your bodies. You feel like you finally belong somewhere.

You're in the living room, and you can't avoid the memories of curling up with Val on the couch. He always lets you pick the movie - sarcastically rolling his eyes at your choices, but never protesting. You sit there for hours, bodies tangled together like two pieces of the same puzzle. You feel like you finally belong somewhere.

You're in the bedroom, and you can't stop picturing the way that Val would take you apart and put you back together again. Before him, all of the sex you had was quick, transactional, impersonal. But it was different with Val. He genuinely cared about your pleasure - learning your body inch by inch, memorising it like a sculptor. You allowed yourself, for the first time ever, to let go. You put your soul in his hands with full faith. Lying there, limbs intertwined beneath the soft sheets, there was no doubt in your mind. You belonged somewhere.

And now that safe place is gone.

Home doesn't feel like home anymore, and it's all because of him. You could move at the drop of a hat, find a new apartment tomorrow if you wanted. But you can't. You can't leave all of these memories behind. As painful as they are, they're all you have.

You turn on the TV, and flick through the channels, you stop at a commercial that seemed to be promoting a free hotel that worked as a rehab for sinner. What a stupid idea. Yet you sat and watched the whole thing, unable to tear your eyes away from the screen. When it ends, you turn it off, and sit in silence.

You sit there for hours, in the quiet, just thinking. About everything. You found the whole thing stupid, of course, but there was something that stuck with you.

Sinners wanting to change.

It seemed as if the minute anyone got into hell they had 2 options: kill or be killed. Hell felt more like an extension of life rather than a punishment itself, maybe that was the punishment.

All of a sudden, you're sick of waiting. Sick of being told how to do everything. Sick of trying to conform to these ideals that people are placing on you. Fuck them. You are already in hell, you have to keep living for you.

You're pulling on your shoes and grabbing your keys before you can even process it. You call the number for a car, but no one answers. Fuck it, you'll run if you have to. If it means you get to hold the man you love in your arms again.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

The knocking on the door is so loud, Valentino's half convinced he's about to be murdered. He swings open the heavy oak to be met with the sight of you, looking like you just ran a marathon.

You stand still for a moment, staring at each other, as if you can't believe what you're seeing. You're here, in each others vicinity again. It'd be so easy to reach out and touch him.

So, you do.

You barrel into him, jumping into his arms, throwing yours around his neck. He catches you easily, holding onto you as tight as he possibly can. You wrap your legs around his waist and press yourself even closer, as if to merge both of your bodies into one being.

You breathe him in, and it's the first time you've taken a full breath in weeks. He smells the same as he always did, floral and woody and expensive and yours. He still smells like he's yours.

You don't realise you're crying until you pull away from him slightly, and see the wet spot on his t shirt. He puts you down and closes the door, locking it behind you. He grabs your hand and leads you into the kitchen, parting from you to pour two glasses of wine.

You jump up onto the counter and part your legs, Val coming to stand between them instinctively. He places a hand on each of your thighs, warmth seeping through his palms. You're face to face, unsure where to start.

"Darling," he breathes. "What are you doing here?"

He sounds unsure, almost scared. If only you knew how frantically his heart is beating in his chest.

"I'm already dead," you reply quickly. "I'm literally in Hell. It can't really get that much worse. And if it does, I'd rather have that if it means I got to choose that path."

Valentino looks at you carefully, brow quirked in confusion.

"Honey, are you on drugs? Because they're really not good for you, you know."

"Says the man who did coke off my ass last month," you tease defiantly.

He fights back a smile, but it curls at the corner of his mouth. You grin at him, hands moving towards his neck.

"I'm not on drugs," you reassure. "I was just watching tv, and it kinda put everything into perspective. We should get to choose what we do in our deaths. We should get to try to change our path. Why am I so stuck to an eternity trying to appease stupid concepts of success?"

He smiles at you softly, nodding as you continue.

"I just - this is hell. We get to do whatever the fuck we want, we're fucking dead. I make a choice for myself, and all of a sudden everything I've worked for is gone? How is that fair?"

"It isn't," he agrees, squeezing your thighs in reassurance. "Vox's a hypocrite. Do you know how many stupid decisions I've watched him make over the years? He thinks he knows everything, but he doesn't."

You lean forward and press your forehead to Val's, exhaling the tension from your shoulders.

"I'm really sorry," you whisper. "For everything. I treated you horribly, and none of it was your fault."

"It wasn't your fault, either. You know that, right?"

"I don't know. It's so hard to get a view on things when they're happening. But when I took a step back, it gave me a clearer look. And it made me realise something."

"And what's that?" he murmurs.

"I realised that I cannot live a day without you, Valentino. I don't want to."

"Thank God," he breathes in a laugh. "I've been going fucking crazy here without you."

You beam a grin at him, so bright it's a wonder that the lights don't shatter.

"I love you, and I won't apologise for it," you confess. "Whatever the consequences are, I'll accept them. Nothing can touch me when I'm loved by you. You're like my own personal armour."

Val leans forward and captures your lips with his, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. You get completely lost in each other, revelling in the feeling of being back together. You feel like you can finally breathe again. The other half of your heart has returned.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel #valentino hazbin hotel #valentino x reader #valentino hazbin hotel headcanon #cursed cat alastor #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino #the vees #valentino x you #valentino headcanons

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eetherealgoddess · 4 months

Note

Hello, I really love your stories/writings. I've been a fan since you began, and I don't really have many ideas, but if possible could I request a 'scream' au (the movies). Like the tr boys are just ultra yander for reader and kill every person around them, finally kidnapping them or smtg like that. Maybe if it's possible a male reader? Sorry, if you don't really understand it, English isn't my language

I don’t remember much about scream since I haven’t seen it since I was a kid so hopefully you enjoy this anyway! Thank you for the support! ♡︎♡︎♡︎

ꨄMurder Houseꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Serial Killers Au

❦You wake up to a horror house❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture him as a black male but you can see him however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Murder House

You wake up to the sound of a loud thud followed by a blood curdling scream.

“What the hell?” You whisper to yourself as you sit up in the bed, paused as your heart begins to race, anxious thoughts flying through your mind as you recognize the voice to be one out of the four roommates who occupy the house. You jump once you hear another loud noise, followed by the slam of a door and another scream belonging to another one of your roommates. You hop out of bed, completely terrified as the hairs on your body stand, your hands trembling as you ease to the bedroom door.

Your eyebrows furrow as you hear laughing along with a voice’s muffled talking. You slowly turn the knob, easing the door open as you pray it doesn’t creak. Fortunately, luck is on your side at the moment because you successfully step out of the room without anyone’s knowledge. Your hands meet the wall as you walk down the hall, the weeping sound of a couple of your roommates causes a lump in your throat as you realize this must be a dire situation.

You make it to the staircase, slowly walking down the stairs, step by step as you listen to the conversation below.

“You like that, yeah?” You wince once you hear something making contact with what you assume to be flesh, along with another yell of pain.

“PLEASE! S-STOP!” Your roommate Juno cries, causing you to cover your mouth as you ease down another step, slowly breathing as you try to calm yourself down, failing as the feeling of danger overtakes you.

Finally making it to the point of the wall where you can peek your head, you crouch down and eye the display through the railing of the staircase. Your eyes widen as you block a gasp, tears freely falling as your body trembles violently.

Three of your roommates lay dead, one of them with their body leaned against the wall of the living room, head detached and thrown to the side as blood leaks from the wound, oozing down his neck as the blood connects to the wall and puddles under the body staining the floor. The other deceased roommate’s eyes are wide open, an ax stuck in the middle of his head as blood leaks down his forehead. His body leaning over as he’s positioned to lean against the wall.

The last dead roommate has his lower face shot off, the bullet causing a horrific wound as half of his jaw is nowhere to be seen. His eyes are rolled into his head. Your last roommate who’s still alive is being beaten with a bloody bat.

Goddamnit! How long has this been going on? How am I not dead?

You look around frantically at the men who stood above the bodies. The one using a bat to repeatedly beat your roommate to death has a twisted smirk plastered on his face, his bun shaking along with the blonde strands moving against his face. Blood is splattered on his clothes and face. His golden eyes crazed while he brings his arms back and slams them down, poor Juno becoming quieter as time passes.

A black haired short man sat on the couch as he watches the display, blood on his clothes as well as a drop on his face. He eats the packaged delicacy with his legs criss crossed. A pink haired man is sitting beside him with a leg crossed over the other as he’s leaned back against the couch, cleaning the gun he’s holding. Your roommate’s blood plastered on him as well.

Two men, who look similar besides their hair, stood to the side with amusement on their faces, the taller one smoking a cigarette as the younger one stood with his arms crossed. Both have blood on their faces and neck.

“Finally.” The man with the bat breathes out once he sees the guy under him is completely limp, blood pooling under him from the inflicted wounds.

“Can we get Y/n, now? I’m bored.” The man with the treat takes his last bite before tossing the empty packaging on the ground. Your breath hitched once you heard your name.

They know about me? Now they’re gonna kill me! I have to get out of here!

You couldn’t move though, your body too tense with fear as you begin to feel a throbbing in your head and ringing in your ear.

I have to breathe.

You quietly breathe in and out, holding a hand to your chest as you try to get yourself together.

“He should be waking soon if he isn’t already. It’s been hours since he had the pill.” The pink haired one states.

Pill? What the hell are they talking about? How did they get the chance to drug me?

“Then let’s go get him. I’m ready to go home.” The younger brother sighs, bored of the situation now that they’ve completed the hardest part.

Scared out of your mind, you grab your phone to call the police as you try to quietly make your way back up the stairs.

My dumbass should’ve done this when I was in my room. Damnit, Y/n!

Somehow, the AI from your phone was activated, a loud, ‘ding’ echoes in the room. Your eyes widen as you curse, immediately turning your phone off as you shove it back in your pocket.

Goddamnit Siri!

All of their heads turn to the staircase, a smirk falling on their expressions as they realize you had been hiding.

“Oh? I think someone’s awake.” The taller brother states.

You immediately run up the stairs and make it to your room, slamming and locking the door behind you as you run to your window.

Your heart pounds as you open the glass and eyed the distance from where you stood. You jolt and let out a yelp when a crash sounds from your door. You turn to eye the door. With a glowing sharp fanged smile, the pink haired man slams his foot against the door repeatedly. The hinges coming loose with each kick.

“Be a good boy, Y/n and come out! We don’t have to do this the hard way!” He yells.

When you turn back around you eye the window once more, before you throw yourself out of the two story building, landing with a harsh thud and rolling down the hill at the side of the house that’s built in the middle of nowhere.

Get up! Get up! Get up! Get the fuck up Y/n!

You slowly pick yourself up as you wince in pain. When you finally make it to your feet, you hiss as your hand meets with your leg, a terrible pain shooting through as you weakly begin to limp to the only area you could, the woods next to your house.

Please! If there’s a god please let me live!

Luckily the hill gives you a head start. You dare turn your head back to the window as you limp away, gasping when you see the figure standing at your window. You can feel the piercing gaze as you disappear deeper into the woods.

“Should we chase or should I shoot?”

You continue dragging yourself until you hear a shot, ignoring it as you move, sweat falling down your body and face as you breathe heavily. You scream as you finally feel a throbbing pain in your leg, causing you to drop to the ground. You turn over and look down at your leg.

“F-Fuck!” You hold onto the bloody limb, tears fall as you drop your head on the ground. Too drowsy from the pain and your pounding heart, the sound began to blur around you along with your vision.

You wake up, hanging on someone’s back as you’re carried. Hands hold your legs as your arms are wrapped around someone’s neck. Too weak to say anything or move, you lay there with your squinted eyes. You weakly eye the pairs of legs walking beside the person holding you.

“Should’ve let me carry him, Ran.”

“Don’t be bitter, brother.” He chuckled.

“Is the bed ready for him, Sanzu?”

“Yes, Mikey. Did you set up the chains, Kazu?”

“Definitely. He’s not going anywhere for a long time.” He smiles.

“Glad to finally have him in our arms.”

“Fuck yeah. Wish we would’ve grabbed him sooner.”

“Yeah it was annoying how he was always surrounded by people.”

“Good thing we took care of all of them.”

“I can’t wait to fuck the shit out of him. I just know he’s a screamer.”

“I’m getting hard just thinking about it.”

Too exhausted with a throbbing pain in your leg, you drift off into a deep slumber, unknown to the journey that awaits you when you’re brought back to reality.

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