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#i am pretty happy with their likenesses in this
heartfullofleeches · 3 days
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Miller [Streamer Yan] and Vtuber Darling that's a regular 110% human being just like them :). Darling's model is pretty average, yet cute looking, but it's their gimmick that really pulls people in.
"Ah, I'm a little thirsty. Excuse me while I drink water with my human mouth... which I have only one of."
"Do you like when I play horror games? I. Like. Them. Too. But I prefer the ones where the main character befriends the monsters at the end :)"
"Oh... Is that really what people look like instead?... I. Am full of meat too. We have so much more in common than I thought."
Quite the oddball, but their chat finds their behaviors adorable. Miller does too. They're over the moon when Darling accepts their friend requests and even more thrilled when darling mentions Miller is their first companion and streaming buddy. They've never been able to make friends before and was lonely because of it, but since they've gained a following it feels like they're never alone.
There are a few hiccups on the day Miller and Darling first stream together. Static drowns out darling's voice when they call and Miller can faintly hear what sounds like...purring? in the background. Darling apologies for the strange sounds once they're finally able to get through to Miller - their pet cat was happy they finally made a friend.
Miller is crushing hard from day one. They've never seen darling's face, but if they're half as cute as their voice they might be too far out of Miller's league. They've tried scrolling through darling's social media pages for photos of them, but all they were able to find was old selfies taken in the worst lighting imaginable... Pretty blurry too.
Darling likes Miller too. They feel as though they can trust the streamer. Trust them with anything.
"Mill...er? I. Have a confession."
"I'm all ears- Lay it on me, baby."
"Can you promise? Promise. Not to be.. Afraid?"
"Afraid? Who'd ever be scared of someone like you? You don't really scream serial killer from the conversations we've had so far."
"If that's is the case... Join the call. See. Me. I. Trust you, Miller."
Call? Oh, darling invited them to a video call. It's crazy that it's the first one after all the time, but Miller respects their privacy....a little. Miller can't see much of anything when they join in. Small, white lights greet them shrouded by the darkness of darling's room as their end connects. Looking closer, Miller realizes....
Those are eyes.
"I'm. So sorry for deceiving you.... and everyone else. Miller.... Thank you for being so kind to me. I couldn't lie to you anymore. I'm sorry. I understand. If you hate me now ...."
"Hate you?.... I'm trying to figure out when our first date is-"
"Ah?"
"You like pork chops? Steak? I remember you talking a lot about meat in earlier streams. I like a person who can really eat, y'know?"
Are they.... flirting? Darling is vaguely aware of the practice. Miller can see them right? Why are they acting so nonchalant about their appearance?
"Hm? It's still you, isn't it? A few more eyes or rows of teeth don't change the fact you're one of the chillest people I've met online. Cutest too. Even now.... So, when can we meet up?"
Miller is strange.... but Darling is strange too. They're happy they met them.
-
Miller: So you're telling me you've been this sexy monster person this entire time?
Vtuber Darling: i... suppose?
Miller: And you choose that boring ass design as your avatar?! Actually that was probably better for me personally - weeds out some of the competition.
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tobyfier · 3 days
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The Mailman
Ah yes, the mailman. The new resident in the apartment, the complete opposite of milkman, aka Francis Mosses. How does Francis feel about the new person in the apartment? Will he hate him or not? Continue reading to find out!
;Male Reader
(P.s English is not my first language, feel free to correct my mistakes!This is also written from Francis’ pov)
ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★
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I didn’t exactly know how to feel about the new resident of the apartment, however I did know his name. M/n L/n was it? Yes, I thinks so. He was..energetic to say the least, quite the surprise considering the current situation about doppelgängers. The other residents didn’t seem to mind his personality, in fact they all seem to like him a lot..If I had to be honest I envy him.
I mean who wouldn’t? He’s nice,energetic,approachable,and pretty charming. Not to mention he seems to enjoy his job as a mailman, while I’m stuck here being the boring milkman. Nobody really approaches me, saying I look intimidating and not much of a social guy..rude but technically yeah, I could care less about socializing and I only want to finish my job for the day so that I could go home, I never really had much of an interest for romance or socializing with other people. But he seems to be the complete opposite, whenever we was by each other he would always flash me a smile and greet me. I never really say hi back but he doesn’t seem to mind that at all. And whenever he delivers a message or package he would always make small talks with the person, whether it be how their day was or how the weather looks nice. Sometimes I wonder how someone can be so sociable with others.
One time he started talking to me ranting something about space and how he likes stars, he wouldn’t stop ranting. And so I told him to stop talking and left..the next day I was doing my usual job as a milkman, delivering milk to people who ordered when I saw him going house to house delivering a mail or a package. And when we went pass each other, I expected him to ignore me considering I rudely left him on the street yesterday. But he greeted me morning as usual..he’s such a strange and unpredictable man.
Few weeks later..
“Hm..” I hummed as I press the doorbell of the house, I put the bottle of milk down and continued walking to the next house. I could already hear the person talk about how much of a loner I am, just like the other houses..ugh I just want this deliveries to get done fast so I can go home and lay down on my bed..Ah there he is again with his upbeat personality, as usual. How can someone talk so much, if I ever tried that I would be tired before I can even manage to say a paragraph. What if I try to greet him back this time, would be nice if I change my pace a bit, right?
“Morning Mr. Mosses, nice to see you again once more!” He greeted, tipping his hat down as he flash me a smile.
“Morning to you too, L/n.” I greeted walking past him, I could tell he stopped walking for a few seconds because I didn’t hear his footsteps, I walked pass him so many times to the point I could distinguish his footsteps from others..would that be weird for others? I looked back to see that he wasn’t walking anymore, rather skipping like a happy person..cute..
Timeskip
Ugh finally, this day is finally over. I could go back home and rest..once the metal door opened I went inside and gave the doorman my ID and blah blah blah, the usual routine. After checking that I was the actual person, they finally opened the door to let me in the apartment. I walked up the stairs to the third floor which was tiring to say the least, and went to get my keys in my pocket. Once I got it I led the key to the knob but noticed something, the door that led to M/n’s room wasn’t lit up as usual. Usually he opens the lights after he’s back from his job, perhaps he’s later than usual? I sighed, it’s probably nothing I’m probably-
“Oh Mr. Mosses!” He greeted, I turned my head to see him standing beside me except..he doesn’t have his hat on, is this the first time I’ve seen him without it? “Looks like you got here first!”
“What do you mean?” I asked him, a bit confused
“Oh it’s nothing..” he said quickly “and uh-here!” He handed me a letter but it’s not showing the front, hold on a letter for me?
“Oh thank-“ before I could even thank him, he was already closing the door, he seems to be in a hurry. I checked the letter to see who it was from and saw that there was a heart, a love letter? But from who.. “From M/n L/n; to Francis Mosses..” I muttered.
Maybe he’s not as bad as I thought..
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skzonthebrain · 2 days
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Stray Kids React to Seeing You Scared When Facing a Phobia
"Different scenarios where you have become frightened by a phobia and Stray Kids step in to calm you down in their own individual ways."
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Pairing: bf!Stray Kids x reader
Genre: Stray Kids Reactions | Fluff | Comfort
Word Count: Roughly 200-300 words per member
Y/N: HAPPY 6 YEARS WITH STRAY KIDS!! (It's a day late, but still doesn't change the fact it's been 6 years!) I am so proud of the people the boys have blossomed into, their achievements and the success they continue to grow into. I hope you enjoy this little gift from me to you, and I hope you all have enjoyed your SKZ anniversary! 💕Apologies for being late, I spent over 3 hours looking for gifs last night (I'm picky what can I say) and then woke up this morning wanting to change the topic to be more focused on the emotion of fear.
CONTENT WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT
Masterlist | Taglist
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Content Warnings: 18+ MDNI, bits of angst around fears, pet names: baby, jagiya, angel, love, kitten, pretty
Bang Chan: "I'm right here"
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The moment Chan notices your worried eyes darting around the room and the slight shake to your posture, his demeanor would completely soften.
Chan is a natural protector, it's in his DNA. The moment anyone needs him, he has an overwhelming desire to provide the comfort they need. So you can only imagine how seeing you frightened makes him feel.
It's like his body refuses to do anything else, until there is a smile present on your lips once again.
He'd lower himself so you're face to face, blocking out the world from view to remind you that he is here, he is present and nothing could harm you while he's here.
"Hey...It's alright baby, I'm right here, okay?"
He would glue himself to your side - hand in yours - making sure you feel the warmth emitting from him at all times until he knows for certain you're feeling safe enough again.
'You're safe I promise. I'm not going anywhere.'
Even then his eyes remain on you, monitoring for the slightest chance you might need him again.
Lee Know (Minho): "You know what I do when I'm scared..."
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Minho is observant, he sees the early warning signs that a combination of worry and fear are creeping into your eyes.
He will stare at you intently, waiting for the moment you realize he's watching you. He catches your eye, giving you a small smile to try and reassure you it's okay.
But when that isn't enough and you start to panic, he has already taken long strides to be by your side.
'You doing okay kitten?'
He'd draw you into him, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you steady. His goal of making everything okay clear in mind.
"You know...when I get scared, I picture whatever I'm scared of wearing or doing something silly."
He'd let out a chuckle with you as you take in what he has said and imagine exactly what he suggested.
Suddenly you don't feel so scared anymore, but it doesn't mean Minho will stop hovering around you, just incase.
Seo Changbin: "Come here pretty"
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Changbin looks at you with a pout upon noticing your nervous fidgeting, a quiver on your lip as you begin to work yourself up and lose yourself into fearful thoughts.
"Come here pretty."
He would call to you, arms open wide inviting you to find comfort in his arms, and you'd give anything to move to him, but your frozen in place.
Changbin's pout would grow deeper as you turn away from him embarrassed that he is seeing you this way.
His large arms would encircle you from behind, tugging you closer to him as he morphs himself into your shadow. If you were worried about facing your fears, you won't have to worry about facing them alone.
"I've got you, you can do this. I won't let anything harm you."
He'd whisper reassurances in your ear, holding onto you tightly and giving you the strength you needed to face anything that comes your way.
From the position he's in, it also gives him the opportunity to glare at anything that threatens you, because the moment he's finished checking on you to ensure you're feeling safe again, he's hunting down whatever got you this scared.
Hwang Hyunjin: "Talk to me, angel"
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Hyunjin had already sensed you weren't your usual self, hand in yours as he tried to support you.
Feeling your hand shake in his as you began to feel a sense of dread descend on you, he would quickly rush to stand in front of you taking your other hand in his, cradling them gently with his thumbs rubbing comforting circles over your knuckles.
He'd keep you at arms length, the space between you connect by your hands in his as he grounds you to his gaze, the world around you slipping away into slow motion as you focus on him.
"Talk to me, angel."
He'd encourage you, guiding you away from the situation to take a moment to relax before engaging on what was scaring you again.
"If you aren't ready, we don't have to do this. Just know I'm here for you always. You don't have to do this alone."
Hyunjin would never want you to bottle up your feelings or have to face things on your own. Sometimes these things take time and Hyunjin would remain patient until you were ready to face your fears again.
Han Jisung: "I've got your back."
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Jisung can feel the worry rolling off of you in waves and taking a deep breath, he pulls you to the side and holds you steady in front of him with a firm grounding grip to your shoulders.
"Hey baby. Take a few breaths for a second. It's going to be okay, I promise."
He would rub your shoulders, massaging away the fear as a warm soothing smile graces his squishy cheeks.
Jisung watches you intently as you begin to relax in his hold, focusing on your breathing and calming yourself down.
Jisung is no stranger to anxious thoughts, and he knows sometimes it's better to pause and clear your mind before spiraling out of control.
Once he sees you have sufficiently calmed down, he would fall back into his joyful nature to bring the mood back up, providing you strength through humor.
"I've got your back. They've gotta go through me first remember!"
He'd smirk at you playfully, but there is a sincerity to his words and despite his teasing attempts to lighten the mood by flexing his muscles to appear intimidating, you know he meant it. He'd defend you no matter the cost, even if he was scared himself.
Lee Felix: "We have each other."
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Felix lets in and out a few shallow breaths trying to prepare himself for what you're both about to face. He's nervous, and thinking of the worst case scenarios.
When his arm begins to shake, he realizes it's not him who is causing it, but you from beneath it who's knees are begging to buckle.
His priorities would shift, his focus on wanting to make you feel at ease overpowering his own doubts of what's ahead. And knowing that he isn't the only one who is scared provides some comfort to him.
He would use his arm around your shoulders to tuck you safely into his side, allowing you to seek comfort against his heartbeat, as he would take comfort from feeling the warmth of you against him.
"My love, I know it's scary, but we have each other."
His grip would tighten on you as he wraps his arms protectively around you. You worries melting away as you breathe in his scent.
"I'll be with you the whole time, and at any moment just tell me and we can stop."
Attaching one of his brightest reassuring smiles to his words you finally feel at ease, ready to face your fears together.
Kim Seungmin: "Mind if I go first, jagiya?"
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Seungmin doesn't shy away from tough situations, nor is he scared of facing his fears, but he knows how nerve wracking it can be if you give in to your thoughts.
He can see you nervously fidgeting in front of him, an excuse to remove yourself from the situation on your lips ready to spill out, but Seungmin knows that if you don't face your fears now, you won't ever.
Seungmin wraps his arms securely around your waist from behind you, twirling you around until you both have switched places.
"Mind if I go first, jagiya?"
He would give you a thoughtful smile, rubbing your hips soothingly as he judges your reaction.
Your nerves settle a little at the reassurance of Seungmin going first, but when they are still present Seungmin will press a delicate kiss to your forehead.
"Everything is going to be fine. Watch me closely, I'll show you how it's done."
With a flirtatious wink you watch Seungmin tackle your fear with confidence and watching how easy it is for Seungmin, you realize that you can do this too.
Yang Jeongin: "I'm going to be with you the whole time."
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Jeongin hates seeing you like this. Weary eyes and clinging onto his arm tightly as you try to prepare yourself to face your fears.
He's never been known as the go-to person of comfort before, others in his life stepping into that role so he hasn't experience this feeling of being relied on before.
He would scan his brain, trying to think of anything that could help, but his heart seems to lead the way, his hands yearning to soothe you.
He finds his hand gently brushing the back of your head in a comforting manner.
"I'm going to be with you the whole time."
He finds himself falling into the role naturally, pushing a few strands of hair out of your help seeking eyes with his free hand.
"I know you're worried baby, but think of how proud of yourself you will be once you conquer this. I'm proud of you for even coming this far."
He'd give you a fox like grin of encouragement, pressing a few kisses into your cheek, his love evident for you in his eyes.
Allowing you to take a few deep breathes, he interlocks your hand with his, reminding you that in times you can't guide him through life, he will step up to guide you in return.
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© skzonthebrain 2022 - 2024
'Which members' reaction is the reaction you would want when facing your phobia?'
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sidsinning · 15 hours
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#1 thing I am the most curious about/eager for the series to explore is 1000% the Morningstar family, especially Lilith
Bc who even is Lilith in reality besides what we have seen her as in the eyes of the other characters
Clearest image we get of her is in their family portraits
We usually see her as the menacing mystery figure working in the background, but in these photos she's clearly a normal happy mom who genuinely loves her family as any mother/wife would. She's not just a smirking dominant figure with a hidden agenda. All she's doing is having fun with her family and has no qualms about showing a range of emotion.
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Charlie sees her as the role model she takes after and wants to make her proud. It turns out she sees Lucifer in pretty much the same light, but with the addition of having an awkward relationship bc of the distance they've had. With Lilith she never speaks about her with any lingering awkwardness, so we can assume she's been a good mom raising Charlie this whole time.
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(For those who are saying "Lilith is a bad mom bc who leaves their kid alone for 7 years???"- she is literally thousands of years old while Charlie is well into adulthood before those 7 years. It's like a business trip to them. She wasn't an absentee parent for leaving for 7 years out of Charlie's 200+. The thing that's weird is that she's not communicating with Charlie. Our girl deadass owns property with a job and employees. Just bc she's not great at it and is having Lucifer step in to help recently, doesn't make Lucifer the superior parent suddenly. He's confirmed to be a kind of shitty dad despite how much he cares for her by the creators themselves. Kind of the point of his introduction ep guys. The 7 years are a mystery to unpack. Chill tf out.)
In this flashback people are blaming Lilith for separating Lucifer and Charlie on purpose, seemingly as the cause of their distant relationship. But it feels more complicated than that, based off Lucifer's reaction.
He's sad reaching out to Charlie by the end of the flashback, but when Lilith first appears he's smiling all the same and not deterred in giving Charlie to Lilith to carry away for what reason we don't know. A normal, standard occurrence he's used to. It seems both parents have agreed it's best for Lilith to take Charlie at this age now, for whatever reason.
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Was his mental health affecting his parenting too much so they decided Lilith would shoulder the bulk of the task? Maybe Lilith really did separate the two somehow for her own reasons and convinced Lucifer with it? Another mystery reason each parent agree on?
When exactly did both of them separate? When Charlie was already an adult or around the time of the flashback when Lilith was her primary caretaker as a kid? (I'm assuming adulthood since Lucifer and Lilith seemed to still be getting along in the flashback despite her emotionless face.) Why did they separate when Lucifer seems to clearly love and yearn for her all the same, still wearing his wedding ring? 😭😭😭
And ofc what is this deal she made with Adam to stay chillin on a beach in heaven, and why did Adam, a reckless narcissist who likes yappin to whoever is gonna listen, not ever reveal this fact to her family to the very end?
There is just so much to unpack with their family and Lilith is the key ingredient rn to unlocking it
Like ofc I'm looking forward to Sir Pentious in heaven, Alastor's deal, the future of the rebuild hotel, Lucifer now being a seemingly main character in season 2, etc.
But the Morningstars,,,different level
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costkappen · 3 days
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Best boy《CLxReader》
Tags....☆smut,blow job, sub!Charles, Dom!reader, no use of y/n,fluff,charles is insecure,reassuring
Warnings....☆smut!mdni, a bit of sad!Charles but nothing too sad or angsty
Word count....☆1795
A bit of a warning, this is my first time writing so it not the best,also please correct me if you find any spelling mistakes as I didn't proof read this,anyways enjoy I hope I did good!
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He looked so pretty high up on the podium, his smiling face half covered by the shining Australian sun making his pretty blue eyes shine like I've never seen before.
After the podium celebrations I went after him and pulled him in the tightest hug ever
"Congratulations Charles! P2 and double ferrari podium, I'm so proud of you" his face lit up at my praise, something I've picked up since I first met him, he gloats over the littlest praise aimed towards him, even if it wasn't said to him directly, he has a habit of kicking himself down way more that necessary when the smallest thing goes wrong, even if it wasn't his fault he always finds a way to beat himself up over it, so over the years I've made a mental note to sower him with praises as much as I can. "Thank you chéri, I'm also really happy with the team today, let's go to my drivers room I'll take a quick shower and then we'll go back to the hotel"
The drive to the hotel was fairly silent, I didn't say anything to him but I saw how his lips twitched and how his grip on the steering wheel was so tight the tips of his fingers turned white. Yes he was happy about his podium, but there was something he was not telling me so I made it my personal mission to find out what was bothering him so much on a day that was supposed to make him feel like he was on cloud 9.
Once we arrived to the hotel the first thing I did was change into something more comfortable and then I went looking for him, "Hey baby" I said as I sat down on his lap on the couch "How are you feeling? You must be so happy, we have to celebrate with Carlos and Rebecca tonight you boys did such a good job"
The praise made him smile, still he didn't look like his usual self "Yeah I'm really happy Chéri, I think the team needed this win, I can't wait to celebrate with you all" then he gives me a quick kiss on the lips and looks at me without saying anything else
" Alright then if you're so happy then why are you acting like that?" "Acting like what?" He says with a nervous giggle as to make me think I'm just over thinking it. "Like you're about to cry Charlie, don't lie to me I know you too well." He then brings his hand to gently stroke my cheek, as if I was the one that needed comforting right now, "I really can't hide anything from you Chéri?" He let's out a sigh,his whole body deflating "I'm happy for Carlos, I really am, it's just that I can't stop thinking how it should've been me on the first step, not because I don't think that Carlos deserves it but because I've got the whole ferrari team and the tifosi rooting for me, and everytime I get second place instead of winning I feel like I'm letting down everyone, especially you" well I surely wasn't expecting that, yes I knew he had some troubles in believing himself, but I didn't know just how little he thought of himself, "Charlie I can promise you're not letting anyone down,and especially not me! Do you not know how proud I am of you? The redbull is been a monster of a car and so far you've been the only one to get as close to it as second place, everyone at the motorhome can tell you that, everyone is so proud of you even when you don't win we know that you could do so much more if we had a better car and if redbull didn't have a rocketship instead of a car,no one is upset with you Charlie" his lips were quivering and his pretty blue eyes were shiny and looked like they were ready to burst with tears, but I couldn't let my pretty boy cry on a day like this, not when he was supposed to be celebrating and happy with his amazing results, "Alright Charlie how about I show you just how much i am proud of you?"
I take his hand making him stand up from the couch "Where are we going Chéri?" He asks confused as ever "to the bed baby, I'll show you what good boys like you get when they've been so good" and as I make him get on the bed I get a good look at his flushed face, cheeks red and a little shy smile,
"I'll start slow okay?" He nods eagerly his head and I chuckle at his shyness, I start by prepping kisses all over his handsome face and I stop at his lips to give him a more passionate kiss occasionally sliding my tongue on his bottom lip, stroking his arms with my hand I could feel goosebumps forming, as I made my way to his neck I made sure that my kissed lingered a bit longer as to leave pink patches all over his neck, light enough to show but not too harsh so they would be gone the next day, as much as I wanted to leave purple marks all over him I knew pr would kill him if he showed up in public covered in hickeys, so just this once I'll refrain myself.
I could feel him shiver under me as I got to unbuttoning his shirt and I kissed all over his chest "Chéri please..don't tease me like this" he pleaded looking at me with his puppy eyes "What do you want me to do Charlie? I'll do anything you want as long as you ask me nicely " I was being a bit mean to him but I knew that he loved it when I took charge and teased him, "Please just touch me..anywhere I just want to feel your touch" his words make me melt, and how could I say no to him when he was begging so prettily "What a good boy you are Charles, asking me so nicely, don't worry I'll make you feel so good" He shivers as my hand gets lower, working on his pants to get them off, I slide them down along with his underwear as he raises his hips to help me get his pant off of him, I look back up staring at his pretty leaking dick, he wasn't the biggest but he still had the prettiest dick I've ever seen, clean and neatly groomed, I started tracing the veins that run across his shaft, that pulled a whimper out of him so I started using my tongue savoring his flavor on my tastbuds as I moved to his tip, clear beads of precum already leaking out "your dick is so pretty cha, so sensitive for me.." I look up at him smiling and circling my tongue around his tip "p-pleas chérie..take me in your mouth no more teasing" his pleas and the way he looked at me while he was making me go crazy, he just looked so good, still maintaining eye contact I took him as deep down my throat as I could go, seeing his face contorted from the pleasure gave me more confidence so I relaxed my throat and stopped when my nose hit his lower stomach, he tasted heavenly and I could hear his whimpers and soft moans, I bobbed my head up and down using my hand to stoke him at his base where I could not reach with my mouth, and he looked completely gone, eyes rolling back, hands gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white and he let out the prettiest moans, but his breath was staring to hiccup and he started squirming against the sheet so I knew he was getting close "what is it cha? Getting close my sweet boy?" I cooed at him getting my mouth back on him as soon as I stopped talking "mhh- Chéri please don't stop i-" He gasped and as I looked at him I saw his eyes roll back, he was completely blissed out "what is it pretty boy, Can't talk anymore? Am I making you feel so good your brain can't form words?" His breath hitched and he let out a shaky moan, this time I decided to not make him beg me to let him cut, he had been so good and he deserved it, so I started focusing on his tip, circling it with my tongue and sucking it harshly while my hand stroked him up and down as the other held him at his base,I was so focused on getting him to his sweet and deserved release I almost didn't hear him warning me that he was about to cum, "look at me Charlie,I want to see your pretty face as you cum down my throat like a good boy,just like that cha let it go for me" my words pushed him off the edge and he gripped my hair slightly pushing my head down on him, I got the hint so I took him as deep as a could and he heal me there, his loud moans filled the room, at this point I knew that whoever was staying in the room next to us hear him but I couldn't care less, I just wanted him to feel good, as i looked at his fucked out expression I felt his sweet cum filling my mouth, his mouth hanged low as he let out one final loud moan and fell back on the pillows, I slowly pulled him out of my mouth, took his face in my hands and made him look at me as I swallowed his cum, and he smashed his mouth on mine, sliding his tongue inside my mouth passionately kissing me, a quiet thank you.
"Are you feeling better now Charlie?" I looked down at him as he was laying on my chest trying to gain his breath back "yes- yes thank you chéri I'm feeling much better chéri thank you" He smiled and kissed my neck and nuzzled his face as I covered us up with the covers "well then I'm confident that you learned your lesson and will start to believe in yourself more yes?" I say as I start stroking his hair
"Well I don't know chéri, if that's what happens when I doubt myself I might just start doing it more" He laughs and hides his face in the crook of my neck, I gently smack the back of his head but I also laugh at his comment "I love you charles, you know that right?" "I know chéri, but I love you more."
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cursedhaglette · 2 days
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Birdsong
“We didn’t have to - I mean,” you try to find the right words, the ones that would make him stay with you for the evening. “You don’t have to go.”
“I was trying to be polite, innocent little bird,” he raises an eyebrow in surprise, studying you again. You sit up, leaning back on your hands as you ignore the urge to correct your sleepshirt, well aware that one breast is nearly exposed from how it now hangs. “But look at you, such a pretty mess.”
“I want you,” you hear yourself say, shocked at the bold admission. You’ve been holding back the truth of how badly you want him, but with the way his body reacted to yours, maybe it isn’t as big a long shot as you’d been telling yourself… “I’ve wanted you for a long time. I want you to stay.”
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The first time you let Astarion bite your neck, and you're surprised to find just how badly it makes you want him.
Rating: E Word Count: 2,600 Content: 18+, smut, afab reader, cunnilingus, oral sex, PiV, creampie, breeding kink if you look really hard, vampire bites,
[ao3 link]
You open your eyes, sensing something off even in your deep, dreamless sleep, and are greeted by teeth - a mouth open wide and ready to devour. 
“Shit,” is all he can say as he sits back on his heels, fidgeting nervously as you sit up and pull away - some latent instinct that you need to distance yourself for safety kicking in even though you know Astarion and what he needs. 
“I’m sorry, I - I only need a little blood,” he says, moving away from you and extending his hands in front of him. A gesture of peace, of safety. You don’t stand, but move to a kneeling position before him, well aware that your expression is likely one of fear and confusion. 
You’d agreed after his first feeding that you’d help when you could, signaling him after a long day if you were available for him that evening. His feedings are easy now, the process so quick and painless, you rarely wake up when his teeth meet your wrist in the dead of night. 
“I suppose I can help you with that,” you whisper, your voice still thick from sleep. “Um…how would you like me?”
“All over camp, love,” he smirks, and his smile only grows when he spies the quick blush that heats your cheeks at the words. 
“Ha ha,” is all you manage to say, and you roll your eyes playfully.
“Since you’re awake, I’ve been hoping to try at your neck one of these lovely nights together” his eyebrows knotting together as he moves to kneel next to you. “If that’s alright with you, my sweet, little bird.”
He’d been feeding from your wrist for the last tenday, working hard to master his control when feeding, especially since your blood is the best he gets compared to all the animals and goblins the wilderness provides. You’d limited him to that, trusting he’d keep his word if he fed from you while you slept, but he’d behaved himself - proven he could control his hunger. 
“I didn’t mean to wake you, darling, but I am happy to take from your wrist again. I simply wanted to avoid the risk of scarring from repeated feedings. We need to keep you pretty, don’t we?”
“Hmm,” you consider, pinching your lips together and trying not to look too bashful. The thought of his lips on your neck… “I suppose my neck is fine.”
You tried not to cringe as your voice came out in a soft squeak, laying back quickly to hide your embarrassment. 
“Are you quite sure you’re comfortable with this?”
“You promise not to kill me?” Again, you try to joke, but your voice falters and only sounds tired instead.
“Feel free to push me off if you start to feel faint, you know the drill, pet,” he says softly, positioning himself over you. He smells of familiar herbs, rosemary and bergamot, and something dark but sweet as well. The feeling of his body hovering above yours, while he scoops his hand under your head so tenderly, starts an ache in your core that is wholly new. You want him to rest fully against you, to run his hands through your hair, and the thoughts make you close your eyes in hesitation. 
Before you can second guess yourself and this choice, he bites down, and icy pain draws a gasp from your lips as you try to adjust to the sensation. It’s more unpleasant than your wrist, to be sure, but under this pain is a different sensation - brought on by the feeling of his tongue lapping at your neck, suckling at your lifeblood with combined tenderness and desperation. 
You don’t expect it to light a fire in your belly, your breath hitching as his body draws closer over yours. It’s only been a second, but it feels like your whole body rewrites what you know as normal as he drinks from you. 
A quiet moan escapes your lips at the feeling of him sinking onto you, a distinct hardness pressing into the gap between your thighs as he writhes against you. You’re more than familiar with how the sudden rush of energy and blood usually arouses all parts of him, but feeling it against you, against your heat, is entirely new. He whimpers in turn, his hips rolling into yours, and then you can hear his voice echoing through your mind. 
“Are you still alright, sweet bird?” He asks through your shared tadpole connection, and all you can do was whimper in delight at the pet name and the purr of his voice caressing your thoughts. 
The world feels fuzzy and warm as he drinks, like you indulged in too much wine before bed, and after what feels like not enough time at all, he pulls himself off. Or rather, he pulls away from your neck, but his body remains against yours, hard and panting. 
You meet his ruby eyes, both of your expressions hazy and wild. He rubs the mess of red away with the back of one hand, keeping himself above you while resting on the forearm of the other. Some part of you is sad to see the red go, to see that sight of you on him swept away. 
“Darling? Are you alright?” His question is little more than a whisper against your lips, he hovers so close. You could feel his cold hands softly twist in your hair, as if to bring your focus back to him, back to your body, as you reorient from the bloodloss.
“I’m fine,” but your eyes don’t leave his, even as they grow hazy with sleep and bloodloss, your body suddenly desperate for rest. But without thinking, you reach up - tangling your hands in his mess of silver hair - and tug him down into a kiss. 
It’s slow at first, surprise causing him to tense for just a moment, and then he opens for you. His mouth crashing upon yours, the hardness between his legs digging into you as you fumble for more of each other, tongues dancing. The sluggish hum in your bones that’s familiar after his feedings seems to heighten the sensations of pleasure that course through you, your hands quickly moving to his sides, his back, his neck.
Before you might beg for more, he pauses and pulls away, scanning your eyes as he does.
Astarion sits up, and your body goes cold as he does - despite the fire just outside and the blankets that you were tangled in. “I’m sorry - I didn’t expect, well, to enjoy that quite so thoroughly.” He gestured with one hand to his body as he moved to stand, and your eyes fell to the obvious erection in his pants. “You were absolutely delicious.”
There are no words for what you see, the want that you feel crest within you like a tidal wave at the sight of him - of how he wants you. And you’d never seen someone so hard before…Gods…you’re speechless at the sight. 
You pinch your lips into a fine line but can’t stop the smile that you know comes upon your face as you look back up to his, meeting his eyes as he winks. Your face is hot, your body feels hot - you feel unhinged by the overwhelming desire that aches for him.
“We didn’t have to - I mean,” you try to find the right words, the ones that would make him stay with you for the evening. “You don’t have to go.”
“I was trying to be polite, innocent little bird,” he raises an eyebrow in surprise, studying you again. You sit up, leaning back on your hands as you ignore the urge to correct your sleepshirt, well aware that one breast is nearly exposed from how it now hangs. “But look at you, such a pretty mess.”
“I want you,” you hear yourself say, shocked at the bold admission. You’ve been holding back the truth of how badly you want him, but with the way his body reacted to yours, maybe it isn’t as big a long shot as you’d been telling yourself… “I’ve wanted you for a long time. I want you to stay.”
“Oh you wicked little thing,” Astarion grins, “I noticed how you pant and writhe when I’m lost in your blood. But I had no idea how desperately you desired me.”
“Well, then stay. Stay and fuck me, Astarion.”
“I do love a woman who knows what she wants,” and with a swift, fluid motion, he tugs his shirt over his shoulders and his perfect chest is bared for you. You smile and lean back, tugging him against you as you do - propriety be damned. 
His mouth meets yours again in another chaotic, crashing kiss that tears a moan from you as his fingers go to the buttons of your sleepshirt. It falls from your shoulders and goosebumps dance up your arms at the contact of his cold skin on yours and the way your arousal grows more insistent with every swipe of his tongue against yours. 
He pulls back, scanning your face for just a moment, and you can’t help the mewling “Please” that escapes your lips, desperation evident in every word. You need more of him, and after waiting for weeks, you’re ready for him to give you everything. 
Astarion gives a wicked grin at the sound of your begging, but his mouth only moves low enough to take a single nipple in his mouth. He rolls his tongue around the hardened peak, before latching around it and sucking deeply. 
He shimmies your panties down with his next movement and holds up your hips, sliding his tongue up the length of your sex while one arm keeps your legs above him. You can’t help but groan at the delicious feeling of his mouth finally meeting your waiting, swollen bud, and quickly have to rest your legs on his shoulders to keep from bucking wildly at the intensity of the pleasure he offers you. 
And Gods, but he devours you, lewd noises filling your small excuse for a tent as his tongue laps at your soaking cunt. The pleasure behind your eyes burns white hot as he slips his tongue inside you, his nose against your clit moving in time with each shallow thrust. He groans with each pulsing clench of your body around him and your hands tangle in the blanket below you as you grasp for anything that might ground you in this moment.
Before you get too close to your peak, he briefly sets your hips down and moves to slip his cock out of his pants. He palms his length with one hand, hissing as he tightly pumps himself, and then slips the other back inside you. Astarion moves low, adjusting his body in a single smooth movement and then he’s before you once more, licking up until he pulls your pulsing, waiting clit into his mouth and sucking. Massaging your inner walls while he holds your pleasure between his lips and rolls his tongue until you’re bucking against his mouth. 
You go over the edge, dissolving into waves of pleasure with his name crashing from your lips in a keening moan and feel the way his mouth turns up into a smile as you clench around his fingers, but his mouth stays in place until your body stills around him. 
“You taste so sweet when you cum,” He moves up to kiss you and you sigh against his lips.
“Hells,” you breathe when he pulls away, trying to catch your breath as the hum of release dances through your body, but Astarion has no interest in letting you rest. 
“Now, let’s go for one more,” he starts, lining his cock up with your entrance and then sliding it against your slit, wetting his length with your arousal. He presses into you a moment later and you gasp at the sensation, at the way he stretches you to fit all of him, and his next words are enough to nearly shatter you again. 
“This time, I want you to come around my cock, my sweet, little bird.”
He doesn’t wait another moment before withdrawing then burying himself to the hilt, his moan echoing your gasp at how full you feel once he’s inside you. His rhythm is so desperate and  slow and deep that you’re quickly lost in every punishing hit of his body meeting yours. 
You can’t muffle your pleading moans as you beg for more of him, for the pleasure he offers and he shifts, putting one leg on his shoulder once more so he can take you even deeper. He’s bent over you and staring into your eyes as he ruts, smiling and purring as he watches you come closer and closer to breaking. 
“Yes, that’s…so good,” he groans, “...doing so good for me little bird.”
His nickname for you, in this context, feels like lightning dancing through your skin and igniting in that aching place where your bodies meet. He kisses you deeply, moans exchanged in the space where your tongues dance, and then he pulls away quickly, his voice gruff as he demands, “Turn over, sweet thing.”
You do as you're told, flipping onto your stomach, and before you might shift to be on hands and knees, you feel his strong hands kneading the muscle of your ass, his cock lining up with your entrance once more. Astarion angles your hips up for him and slides back inside with a delicious, deep groan
“Wanna feel you - uhnnn, Gods, bird - come around my cock,” he moans, his rhythm growing erratic as you both approach the peak for your pleasure together. “Be a good girl for me, be - please - fuck, you feel so good -”
With deep push inside you, his cock finds a spot that has your eyes rolling back and your body soaking him in your arousal, his praise continuing until you do as he asks again. He brings you closer and closer to the edge with every perfect stroke, his hips meeting your ass and balls hitting your clit with every punishing thrust.
Your climax crashes through you this time, pulsing and clenching and begging for more and more of him. You see white and stars as you pant and cry through 
“Fill me,” you beg, finding your voice as the aftershocks of your orgasm leave your cunt fluttering around him. He fucks into you with absolute abandon now, desperate for his own release. “Please Astarion, come for me. I want to feel you fill me, please, please -”
“Gods above - fuck - oh, oh, fuck - ” he groans and slows as he spends himself within you, continuing to roll his hips into you with every pulse of his cock emptying within you. 
When he stills with you, neither of you move for a moment as you catch your breath. The scent of sex fills the air and you’re sure you should be bothered by how loud you were, how your companions have undoubtedly heard you both, but you don’t care. 
His cold chest presses into your back and you’re surprised when he dots cold kisses across your shoulder blade and then turns your cheek toward him, pressing a kiss there as well with a soft hum. 
“You have a lovely singing voice, my pretty bird,” he croons into the curve of your neck, continuing to pepper your neck, back and shoulders with kisses. “I hope you don’t mind, but I think I’d like an encore.”
When he moves off your back again, raising your hips til you feel his tongue licking at the spend he’s left within you, you cry a moan of delicious agony, and start to sing for him again. 
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hauntedchoso · 1 day
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GROUPIE LOVE *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
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It’s so sweet swingin’ to the beat when I know that you’re doin’ it all for me…  How the JJK men fuck you after a show ft. [gojo, geto, toji, choso, & nanami] x [fem reader] nsfw warning. minors do not interact. cw: breeding in gojo’s, daddy kink, semi-exhibitionism, choking, degradation, name calling. established relationships in all despite the title! a/n: idk if I’m happy with this lol. i am certainly no writer and have NO plans to write regularly or even keep posting but this fic was born from my mini head cannon that choso looks like vinny mauro from motionless in white….the way vinny does his makeup for shows specifically reminds me of Choso’s blood marks and baggy red eyelids lol. mann I’m upset bc the header I made is shit :(
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Gojo is the singer. His icy white hair and electric blue eyes are quick to capture the hearts of his screaming fans—but those eyes only search for one person in the crowd. Your heart skipped a beat the moment he stepped onto the stage, and when he finally sees you, he flashes you that award-winning smile, bringing the mic up to his perfect lips. “How are we doing tonight, everyone? We’re going to play a song we’ve never performed live before…”
His presence was magnetic, attracting the attention of hundreds of screaming girls as he sang romantic melodies into the mic. You watched his Adam’s apple bob with each word and the way the veins on his hand stuck out as he clutched the mic tightly. Every lyric he sang told a story, and you knew better than all the other girls in the room—he was telling your story. The story of your sweet nights together, the nights you spent gazing into a sea of cerulean blue behind white eyelashes while basking in Gojo’s presence and the beauty of his voice. It was absolutely beautiful, the sweet vibrato’s and clear pitches that escaped his lips as he serenaded his crowd—but it didn’t compare to the beauty of his voice when he was underneath you. 
“Fuck, baby—just like that…haah, god damn. You’re so damn tight,” he moaned, unable to keep up with the way your ass slammed down on his thighs. The harder you rode him, the more undone he became underneath you—such a stark contrast to the confidence he always held when he took the stage. His long, pretty cock stroked against your gummy walls, his mushroom head grazing your g-spot when you raised yourself high enough, driving you crazy. 
“Satoru,” you mewl, absolutely loving the way his hands grip your thighs for dear life. You guys didn’t have much time; it would only be a few minutes before the rest of the guys returned to the tour bus, where you were holding Gojo as your hostage on the bench-couch in the small kitchenette. You ignored the burning in your muscles as you urged yourself to go faster, not giving him a chance to run away as you brought yourself down repeatedly on his warm cock that was throbbing so deliciously inside your clenching cunt. “Cum in me, daddy, I need it—“
“You better fucking watch it,” he moaned through clenched teeth, frustration seeping into his tone, the grip on your left thigh becoming harder. He couldn’t control how his cock throbbed inside you when he heard the word daddy, and it didn’t help that your luscious tits were bouncing so beautifully in his face. If you weren’t moving so fast, he’d have a nipple in his mouth, swirling his warm tongue around it. Quickly becoming overwhelmed by the way your tight cunt clenched around his raw dick, he squeezed his eyes shut, silently willing himself to last longer than he knew he would. He knew you weren’t on birth control, and if you continued to call him daddy in such a slutty tone…well, you’d probably make him a daddy. 
His frustration only egged you on more. “I want your cum in me so bad…haah, please…I’m such a little slut for you, daddy. Don’t you wanna fill me with your seed—“
Before you could process what was happening, Gojo had your back flat against the couch, nudging your thighs back apart as he slid himself inside you again, a hand wrapped tightly around your throat. “You want my cum, you fucking slut? Want me to breed you like a bitch in heat? Fine, you better lay there and take everything I give you.”
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Geto is the guitarist. The way his gorgeous black hair falls around his face as he slings his guitar strap over his shoulder is mesmerizing. His gauged ears are sporting their usual shiny black plugs, which catch the stage lights with each turn of his head. You watch from the side of the stage, hidden from the view of his fans, as his fingers pluck his lucky guitar pick out from between his perfect teeth, bringing the pick down to play a warm-up riff. He gives you one last sly smile, and a sweet, sexy wink before he starts the opening riff to their first song. 
He played his guitar like it was an extension of himself. You watched as his palm slid up and down the instrument’s neck as he followed along to the score, making hundreds of screaming girls howl as he paused and swung it harshly to his right side, flipping it over his neck and catching it again. There was something different about hearing him play the same riffs on stage that he would practice with in the comforts of your shared bedroom, lounging lazily in your queen-sized bed as you close your eyes to the quiet strumming. No, hearing it on a stage was way more exhilarating—he might have thousands of fans in front of him, but you know he’s only playing for you. Watching his long, beautiful, skilled fingers tap away at the neck of the guitar, eliciting different melodic tones and notes when he strums gently. It almost reminds you of the noises his fingers elicit out of you. 
“You’re so fucking wet, baby. Is this all for me?” He purrs into your ear. The same hand that was gently choking you was also keeping your back pinned to the wall as his other hand, shoved deep past the waistband of your skinny jeans, toyed with your weeping folds and rubbed gently against your clit.  He smiles down at his lucky guitar pick resting comfortably in your cleavage, loving the way the lacy shirt he bought you accentuates your beautiful body. 
“You looked so fucking hot on stage tonight….” You manage to whine out. Your heart was racing out of your chest, eyes darting all around the room that today’s venue designated as the band’s dressing room. A music tech, security guard, or even one of Geto’s band mates could barge in at any given moment, but his fingers were relentless as they slipped into your core. 
Your eyes rolled back as you felt your pussy welcome in his digits and clench around them. The hand around your neck slid up to your jaw, gripping your face and turning you to face him again. “Yeah? If I’m so hot, why are you looking away from me, pretty girl? My eyes are right here.”
He emphasized his words by curling his fingers against your g-spot, cutting off your mewls of pleasure with his lips and immediately sliding his tongue inside. You were so drunk, so intoxicated by his lips that you felt your eyes rolling back again before shutting and moaning into the kiss; a kiss that was way too short-lived. “Just one, baby. Cum for me just once, and I’ll dick you down the way your little cunt desperately needs it.”
You complied, reverting all your focus to his fingers until you finally came all over them with a loud, slutty moan. 
He whipped you around almost immediately, pressing your chest to the wall, pulling your hips out, yanking your pants down and unzipping his own before slapping his hard cock on your ass. “Say please, baby,” he whispers in your ear, taking note of the way you press your ass eagerly against him. 
“Please, daddy. I want you to fuck me so bad—!”
And before you could even finish your sentence, Geto was pushing into your warm pussy, using small, gentle thrusts to ease himself in until he was bottomed out. You could feel your walls sucking his hard cock in when his thrusts became deeper; sharp, percussive moans leaving your mouth with each slap of his hips against your ass. His pace was fast and mean, and you were completely enamored with the feeling of his balls slapping your clit. 
“Suguru—!” You could feel your orgasm approaching, your walls contracting and clenching around his pulsing cock, but that only made him go faster. 
“Dirty little slut. You love when I use you like this, don’t you, angel? Taking my cock like the sweet little slut you are…haah. Letting me use my pussy the way I want, wherever I want…”
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Toji is the bassist. The long-necked guitar always looked so small and draped so beautifully across his large, muscular frame whenever he played—so different than the way it looked against your naked body on those nights he was in the mood to snap some photos of both of his beauties. His eyes met yours under the black fringe of his bangs, the scarred side of his mouth curling up into a smirk as his fingers found each string and plucked. 
You watched as his fingers danced across the four strings, mindlessly plucking at the four strings, amazed at the way the colorful stage lights were gracing his face and muscular arms. His bass lines were so effortless; he didn’t even need to look down at his hands while he played. His eyes would instead scan the crowd, casting uninterested glances at all the fans screaming his name, and occasionally coming back to meet your own, always accompanied by the sweetest, sexiest grin that reminded you that he was yours. The deep notes that harmonized with Geto’s guitar reverberated off the walls of the concert hall; they shook the speakers, the shook the barriers, they shook your core. But his deep bass lines were no match for how deep his cock always reached inside you. 
“Toji! Ah—fuck!” You choked out, tears streaming down your face as the tip of his cock repeatedly mashed against your cervix. “I’m gonna cum! Ah—please! Daddy! I’m really gonna cum!” You warned. 
“Yeah? Fucking cum then, slut. I’m not fucking this cunt for nothing.”
When Toji invited you to shower with him after the show, you weren’t expecting him to shove you against the shower wall and fuck you like a wild animal from behind as soon as the water hit your hair. While your showers together always ended in you two fucking, you never thought he’d choose a place so public, a place that puts you both at risk of being heard by your closest friends. This seemed to be the last thing on Toji’s mind as he continues to bully his mean cock into your aching pussy. His eyes remained on your ass, watching his cock pistoning in and out of you while your plump cheeks jiggled with each mean thrust. He knew you got loud when you came, and while it was something you were trying to suppress in order to save face from any of his band mates or techs that might be lingering around outside the bathrooms, it was his one and only goal. 
And you did. As soon as he reached his hand down to rub your sensitive clit, you clenched hard on his throbbing cock. Your back arched deeply against him as you squirted hard against the shower wall, a loud squeal leaving your lips. 
He grabs your wet hair, turning your head to the side so he can silence you with a bruising kiss. “Gonna do it again, mama? Gonna cum all over my cock again?” He whispers evilly against your ear once he pulls away, quickening his pace. His hips slap hard against the globes of your ass, the loud clap clap clap echoing off of the insulated shower walls. 
“Y-yes, daddy, I wanna cum again—“ your words were cut off when he slid two fingers into your mouth, groaning when you bite down on them. 
His thrusts were unforgiving, pulling out far enough so that his fat mushroom head pressed harshly against your g-spot when he thrusted forward and hit your cervix. You were so cockdrunk, Toji could sense your oncoming second orgasm before you could by the way your walls were clenching down so hard on him. Before you knew it, you were squirting again, this time pulling a louder, sluttier squeal from your lungs. 
“Good girl,” he praises, a wide smile spread across his face as he continued to pound you into overstimulation. “Music to my fucking ears.”
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Choso is the drummer. You loved the way those spiked pigtails bounced in the wind as he head banged along to the loud thumping of his drums. His chocolate brown eyes would occasionally meet yours through the band’s set, peaking brightly above the black stripe across his nose, the purple stage lights reflecting across his irises. During the bridge of a particularly romantic song, he cast his gaze towards where you stood side-stage. With a drumstick tipped in your direction, he made sure your eyes were on him as he shot you a wink before his drum solo, as if to say, “this one’s for you.”
Choso pounded on his drums as if he hated them, shaking the stage and speakers so intensely with his mean percussion that you could feel your throat vibrate. You didn’t care what anyone said, Choso controls the show; he counts everyone in, he sets the tempo, he decides how hard his band plays by how he wants to play—and boy, does he play hard. He was often breaking his sticks and putting dents in his drumheads, going through countless numbers of each with every tour he went on. Everything about Choso was hard—the way he plays, his toned muscles, his thick cock, the way he fucks you. 
“Ch-Choso! Haah…h-oh my god, you’re so-!” Your hands clutched at everything they could grab so that you could hold on for dear life—the cymbals, the casings on the side of the drums, the drum stands themselves—but to no avail. “Fuck, you’re so deep!”
Choso snickered at your pathetic attempts to stabilize yourself, the sight only driving his hips against your ass even harder. He had you bent over his drum set, the harsh slaps of your skin-on-skin contact echoing throughout the empty concert hall. He purposely made sure to leave his drums on stage as he helped tear down the rest of the set, waited until his band mates disappeared, and ushered every tech, security guard, and janitor out before he stalked and captured his prey, dragging you back to his den. “Don’t run from my cock now, princess. Isn’t this what you wanted? You were giving me slutty bedroom eyes throughout the whole show.”
He paused his violent thrusts for a moment, driving his hips backward to slowly brush the tip of his cock against your g-spot. He marveled at the way your pussy fluttered and clenched around him as he teased your sopping wet core. 
“Yes, baby…” you mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the delicious stimulation. 
His hips jerked forward, meeting your ass with a singular mean thrust. “I’m sorry?”
You yelp at the sudden jolt of pain and pleasure, eyes snapping wide open as his fingers dig deeper into your hips. “Daddy! Yes, daddy! I want you! Please!” you babble desperately. 
Choso gave your ass one harsh smack before pounding into you again, settling on an unforgiving pace. He loved fucking you hard. Your walls always clenched him so tight, and he loved your cute little squeals you’d let out whenever his cock kissed your cervix. He loved how hard you always came from it, too—it only made him want to fuck you impossibly harder and deeper. His balls slapped against your clit with each thrust, and he admired the way your ass jiggled each time he slammed against it. The sound of him fucking you created its own erotic percussion that you both somehow loved more than the actual sound of his drums. 
“I’ma cum, ohmygod! Ch-Choso…daddy, fuck! I’m cumming!” You whine, unable to focus your gaze as fat tears blur your vision and spill down your face. 
“Good girl. Cum for me, pretty baby,” he moans, rubbing your clit in gentle praise as you spasm all over his throbbing length. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re all fucked out and dumb on my cock.”
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Nanami is the manager. His blond hair was always combed into a perfect style, and his soft, brown eyes focused on his surroundings as he effortlessly orchestrated the commotion around him. There was a certain calmness that surrounded him as he guided the band through every moment of post-concert teardown. Every once in a while, his eyes would land on you, where you sat quietly on one of the speaker cases backstage, ignoring his gaze with a small pout across your lips. 
The guys in the band would sometimes get a little too crazy after shows or on days off, and they have proved time and time again that they needed someone to keep them in check. Whether it’s passing out drunk outside of local bars, damaging and losing their gear, showing up late to sound checks, or simply being divas with attitude, Nanami swore that he was in charge of a bunch of children, and that you—his perfect girl—were the only one who could do no wrong. Even on nights like tonight, when you were upset with him for reasons that were beyond him, he was happy to pull you aside and get you in check as well.
His lips were on yours, tongue swirling around your mouth as he drank in your moans with fervor. His fingers laced through your hair, resting against the back of your head and using that placement to press your lips more firmly against his as his other hand pressed you against his body. He breaks the kiss for a moment to suck small hickies into your neck. 
“What’s got you so worked up tonight, my angel?” He murmurs against your neck, his hot breath sending goosebumps down the length of your spine. “I let you ignore me all evening, but you can’t hide from me now.”
“Kento…what-what about the guys?” You ask innocently, a small gasp leaving your lips as his teeth nip the skin over your pulse point rather hard. 
“Let’s see; Suguru’s in the dressing room, Toji and his woman are putting on a second concert in the shower, pretty sure I saw Satoru sneak onto the bus…” Nanami uses a finger to tilt your chin up, your eyes meeting his, “and Choso’s slutting himself out on stage. Where does that leave me to take my girl, hmm?”
Before you could even answer, he’s kissing you again, whisking you through a side door that exits outside behind the concert venue. Your eyes snap open as you feel a sudden breeze hit your skin, causing you to break the kiss. 
“Out here? But-“
He silences you with a hand to your throat. “Yes, pretty girl. Out here. Now tell me what you need, okay?”
Your eyebrows pinched in frustration. His strong hand choking you only aroused your needy cunt. You were supposed to be upset with him for being too busy for you that day, but the sultry tone in his voice was making you horny. 
“I need you…please, daddy. I missed you so much today. I need you to fuck me so bad.”
And before you know it, he has your feet off the ground, legs wrapped around his hips and your back against the hard brick wall as he bullies his cock into your cunt relentlessly. Your moans echo into the night sky, surely being heard by anyone lingering outside the nearby bars and restaurants as Nanami’s balls make harsh contact with your ass with each unforgiving thrust. “You like being a brat? Hm? Knowing daddy will fuck you nice and hard? I didn’t know my perfect girl was such a needy little slut.”
“Yes—yes! Right there, daddy!” You cry, pure ecstasy making your legs shake as his fat, veiny cock brushes the inside of your walls. “Haah—nnggh fuck, I’ma cum…” you slur, drool escaping from the corner of your lips as your eyes roll to the back of your head. 
“That’s right, princess—give it to me. Give me everything. You like when I fuck you dumb, don’t you, baby? You’re so cute when you’re being a brat. Next time, though, I won’t be as gentle.”
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BONUS FOR MY METALCORE GIRLIES
gojo's vocals / geto's riffs / toji's basslines / choso's drumming
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a/n: i probably won’t post again lol. 
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drdemonprince · 3 days
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Your post about "transitioning to escape gender but then there's more gender" has been rotating furiously in my mind since I saw it. When I first realized I was trans at age 15, I identified as agender, but I knew I wanted to go on T and get top surgery so I decided it would be simpler to tell everyone I was a trans man and that just kind of became the truth. Now 10 years later I'm sorta starting to feel like I wanna actually be agender again, but the idea of an identity shift like that at my current age is terrifying and idek who I'd tell, or how I'd do it, and I don't think I wanna stop using he/him exclusively, and I have no idea why I'm telling *you* this other than that I'm scared to talk to anyone I know about it because it feels like somehow admitting that I was wrong about the gender I fought like hell to become, even though i don't really think that's the case I think my sense of self might just be continuously evolving... but I just wanna say you talking about having a gender shift like once every several years is helping me process this rn and feel like I'm not faking anything now AND wasn't faking anything before.
Dog i am right there with you. As a kid I always thought gender was bullshit, the coercive nature of it disgusted and scared me and I rebelled against it the best that I could. I loathed being assigned to any gender category, I never identified as a "girl", but I didn't really identify with any other category either. Puberty terrified me (and of course, it does most young people, but it felt like it would only more deeply entrench the category that I was assigned to in other people's minds, it made it more difficult to escape). I had trans friends as a teen but it did not occur to me to transition because there was really no end goal that I wanted to head toward, I just knew what I wanted to avoid and not experience. I coped mostly by degendering my body with a fairly androgynous style and way of presenting myself to the word and mannerisms, but also by starving myself which was not so great, and not sustainable. I considered transness for myself, even trying on a friend's binder and presenting masculinely at certain queer events, but it seemed to me at the time like just another way in which to obsess over gender, a foolish coercive socially constructed thing that i was trying to avoid.
In my 20s, I learned more about nonbinary people and figured that explained things pretty well. I was enamored with the transition journeys of some other trans people, largely trans women more than trans masculine ones (with some trans-effeminate faggot boy exceptions), but I still didn't want to take on all the expense and uncertainty and hassle of navigating the medical system for myself. I didn't think that the pursuit of being happy merited taking on so many risks or fiddling with myself so much. I saw it as an extravagance I didn't deserve, I guess, and I also couldn't locate a target outcome that seemed desirable enough for me. I was still dealing with an eating disorder and recovering from some trauma and didn't really think about my life in the long term. I guess I still don't, haha, whoops.
Eventually I came out as nonbinary, and nobody really gave a shit. There is a lot of useless, solidarity-breaking discourse that happens online about essentially who is "more" oppressed, binary trans people or nonbinary people, and a lot of that fight amounts to the two groups shouting about the ways in which they annoy one another without there being any cogent analysis of power and where oppression comes from (let alone how much those two categories overlap).
But I will say that being a they/them was far more difficult than being a trans guy socially and institutionally, because your identity is completely illegible to every system around you. "binary" trans people struggle under this too, but i have found there are some immense benefits to having a socially and institutionally legible target gender. nobody would fucking actually they/them me. not anyone. not even other trans people and queer people. there were no public gendered spaces for me. there were no spaces for me. there was no way to move through the medical system, professional life, and other public institutions as a nonbinary person. i was still just a cis woman in everyone's eyes. including the people who claimed to support me. and it was massively frustrating.
and so i think ultimately, i took my frustrations with not being at all able to escape coerced gendering as a nonbinary person and combined that with the affinity i do feel for queer men and the general sense of misery i was still experiencing in my life and decided what the hell, i'll round myself up to being a trans guy. i upped my T dose, i dressed more masculinely, i eventually got a super masculine hair cut that really squared off my jawline and got me gendered correctly, and i started more consciously inhabiting queer men's spaces.
and it was pretty dope. for a while. i felt the rush of having gotten away with something. when people effortlessly gendered as male i felt freed at last from the pressure to be a woman. i was no longer being coerced into being something that i was not. i had escaped the enforced category so much that people couldn't even see the history of that category being pushed onto me. there was relief.
but then. as always happens. people made little comments about my handshake being too weak for a man. the hypermasc dudes at the leather bar rolled their eyes at me and all the other effeminate dudes swanning around the bar. the people who picked me up off the apps or at the sauna would always let it slip, eventually, that they had a lot of experience with trans guys, or had most recently been dating all trans guys, and it would make me feel like a stock character to them, yet another category into which all kinds of assumptions had been projected. a type not a person. a few people said my haircut made me look like i was in the military or described me as actually masculine, which was equally jarring because it was so incorrect. people tried to affirm me by saying i was such a dude, i was such a man, i was such a fag, i was such a gay bro, pawing all over me leaving the mark of all their assumptions and oversimplifications behind. i had tried to run away from gender and there i was just BASTING all the time in everybody's goddamn assumptions about gender. trans people didn't talk about it any less than cis people did, they were just as fucking confining to be around.
it honestly feels really dirty. when people try to affirm your gender constantly and can't stop talking about it, when people look past you and see only your body, your history, or the role they have typecast you in, when people use your body as an outlet for their own gender or sexuality explorations, when they keep trying to measure every single facet of existence up into being masculine or being feminine or being toppy or bottomy or any other gendered type, it's claustrophobic.
as a trans man i tried playing this whole gender game and the second i started winning i began to feel even more disgusted with myself. it wasn't a victory or an escape, it was a capitulation. exploring with my identity and presentation has brought positive things into my life and my health has gotten better as a result, and i've made wonderful friends who, like me, are disaffected by this coercive gendering system. so i don't regret any of that. but trying to make myself legible under the existing gendered system was a fool's fucking errand. i wish i hadnt done it to myself and i wish i hadnt had it pushed onto me. to be clear, it was cissexist, binarist society that forced it onto me; even when other queer people coated me in their gendered assumptions that is obviously a byproduct of societal conditioning, and it's conditioning that ive reinforced in my own behavior and outlook toward others plenty of times too. we all do it, and we are all wronged by the existing coercive gender system.
i dont even care how i fucking identify anymore and i have no intention of changing pronouns again or anything, i'm so bored of it, i just actually want off this fucking thing. im not interested in trying to make others understand what i am anymore or in who i am even being simply categorizable, i dont want to obsess anymore over how i am perceived or to attempt engineer my appearance and mannerisms to broadcast an identity to anyone. i dont even want to fuck anybody right now at all because im so sick of how much that's a gender pantomime for people. i want off this fuckin ride man im so done.
it's kind of freeing, to hit this point of complete gender apathy, and i think it is a pretty common stage of identity development for a lot of queer people who have explored multiple identities and roles over time. there is no category that i actually am, or that anyone is, there are just the frameworks that society has given us to work with to understand ourselves, and the ways in which we flatten who we are to be able to make sense of the world using those frameworks. but who i actually am is so much more contextual and mutable than all that. i am a different person in the classroom than i am on the train platform than i am in the bedroom than i am cuddling on the couch than i am when i'm working out than i am when curled up on the floor crying than i am at a big furry convention. who i am continues to change as new people come in and out of my life and age and change and my body alters and as the weather turns. who fuckin knows man it's nothing and everything. i want to let it just be
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monotone-artist · 3 days
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[pls dont tag as ship]
i think amy is one of the few people shadow would actually tolerate being near him, let alone touching him
[id: digital drawing of shadow the hedgehog and amy rose. shadow is wearing an open leather jacket with a maroon shirt and jeans torn at the knees. he has a square-shaped notch in one ear. amy is wearing a dress with a striped skirt colored cream-white-black-blue-red, a blue shirt, and a striped blue shawl with a red ribbon on it. she also has an eyebrow piercing, a couple earrings, and an industrial piercing.
shadow is sitting cross-legged on the floor, a phone with a red case in his hand. however, even as he's facing forward his attention is on amy, who's sitting on a stool behind him, braiding his quills. he's got an eyebrow raised and is trying really hard to not smile as she animatedly talks, gesticulating with her free hand. text pointing to her reads, "gossiping about Sonic." end id]
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Text
JJK boys reaction when their daughter brings their boyfriend to their house
Warning:Over protective father's, some words
Feat: Itadori, Fushiguro, Gojo, Geto, Toji, Nanami
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Itadori
—He will greet his daughter's boyfriend happily. "Have a sit" he said. His daughter told him about everything. How did they meet, and how did she fall in love with her boyfriend? Itadori was listening happily to her story, but not until she left and grabbed something from the kitchen. "You," he said as he looked at the boyfriend with a fierce look and started to turn into a bit of a Sukuna. "Don't you dare! Hurt her!" He said as he was pointing his index finger to the boyfriend. "I've killed lots of curses before, don't make me do it again." His scary face vanished when his daughter arrived with a coffee for him and for her boyfriend.
Fushiguro
—"ah, dad? "He will give that guy the meanest look ever. He will pull his daughter's arm closer to him. "Why don't you come in?" he said with his dead serious look. The boyfriend comes inside and sits on the couch, as did Fushiguro. "Sweetie, go grab some food in the kitchen." His daughter walks away and goes over to the kitchen. "Do you really love my daughter? "He said as he crossed his arms. The boyfriend slowly nodded his head. He was sweating a lot. Fushiguro grabbed his collar and looked at him dead in the eye. "If my daughter cries because of you! You'll be waking up in hell." When his daughter came back, she saw her boyfriend trembling.
Gojo
—"This is it?" He said as he was laughing so hard. His daughter rolled her eyes. "Dad" Gojo was still laughing, but when her daughter left, his face became serious. "I don't know what you feed my daughter to like you, but if my daughter wastes a single drop of tears because of you!" He then took off his glasses and showed his beautiful eyes. "These eyes will be the last thing you will see," he said with a creepy smile spread on his face. "Yes sir!!" 
Geto
—"Come on in," he said. The two of them sat down on the couch, facing each other. "Hey honey, why don't you go and make some of daddies favorite tea?" his daughter stood up, smiling before leaving. "Isn't she pretty like her mother?" the boyfriend nodded his head. "Believe me, I will kill someone that makes my princess cry." he then slowly looked back at the boyfriend. "Would you do the same? "He said as he was looking at him (like he was going to kill him for sure). "Yes, sir," he said. His daughter came back with 3 cups of tea. Her boyfriend might need it.
Toji
—"And you are? "His daughter told him about everything. "Oh, your that scumbag," his daughter looked at him with an annoyed face. Toji looked at the boyfriend of her daughter before smiling. "I'm just kidding," he said, then pulled his daughter inside the house. "My daughter is kind and beautiful," he said with a smile on his face. "And I don't need a guy like you," he said with a serious face. "Not a single chance," he then slammed the door on her daughter's boyfriend. 
Nanami
—"What kind of work do you have? "He will start asking some questions like a truly strict parent. "I am a part-timer at a convenience store." He will look at his daughter's boyfriend. "Do you still make some time for her? "The boyfriend nodded his head. "Dad, I guess that's enough? "His daughter said, "No! I need a man who can take care of my one and only daughter, a man! Who can make her happy?" his daughter hugged him tight. "I know dad," Nanami said, then raised his middle finger towards his daughters boyfriend.
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crimsonwritings · 3 days
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His girl
Pairing: Cassian x female reader
Summary: Cassian finally makes a move on Y/N.
Warnings: reader being insecure about herself, slight mention of body shaming.
Words: 2.4k
A/N: This was written for @starfallweek hosted by @azsazz and @writingsbychlo. Am I entirely happy with it? No. Do I want to be part of this amazing event anyway? Yes.
378 years 4 months and 19 days. That’s how long Cassian had been in love with her. Ever since that day, when Rhysand came back from a visit at the Hewn City with her in his arms, saying that she would stay with them from now on. Her family had seen a potential threat in her, because of the powers she showed. Someone who disturbed the stability of their ridiculous culture. But it was the fact that nobody wanted to marry her that had made her father scream at her, blaming her for the blindness of any potential husband.
Cassian still didn’t understand how anybody could say no to her. Her face wasn’t pretty enough they had said. Her body not tender enough, her teeth not straight enough. As if she was a mare, ready for breeding. Nonsense. He had been captivated by her beauty since the moment he met her and if somebody would have asked him he would have married her right away.
Now he was standing at the bar in the House of Wind, to grab some drinks for himself and his friends and all he could think about was her. He wondered why she still wasn’t here yet. She loved Starfall and she wouldn’t miss it by any chance but maybe something had happened? Should he go check on her? No, she surely had a date anyway who would accompany her. They were probably enjoying some alone time right now before they would eventually show up. Cassian desperately tried not to imagine her kissing somebody else, their hands gliding down that beautiful body, whispering sweet nothings into her ear…
“You know, if you grab that glass any tighter it’ll break.” Cassian jumped at the voice of the shadowsinger behind him.
“Cauldron Az, could you stop sneaking up on me like that?” He turned around to the sight of an amused looking Illyrian.
“Oh believe me, I wasn’t sneaking. You were just so deep in your thoughts that you wouldn’t have realised if a whole army stood behind you.”
“Haha, very funny. What do you even want?” He hated to be moody towards one of his eldest friends, but the picture of the girl he loved in the hands of someone else was still to present in his head.
Azriel didn’t seem to be bothered by it. “Figured you’d need some help carrying five glasses. Though I guess Rhys and Feyre won’t drink something any time soon. They just left. Together.”
The prospect of his brother finally making a move on his mate filled Cassian with excitement. “So you think it’s gonna happen? Rhysie is gonna get his girl?”
Azriel only shrugged his shoulders. For any other person it would have seemed like he didn’t care about Rhysands love life but Cassian knew exactly that the shadowsinger was just as invested in it as him. “The odds are good. But if I were you I wouldn’t be worrying about him but myself. So, are you finally gonna make a move on her tonight?”
The fact that Azriel didn’t even use her name was indicator enough that everyone knew about the Generals hopeless feelings towards her. “Oh common Az, you know she isn’t interested in me that way. I mean we are friends! For almost four centuries we’ve been friends!”
“Really?” A smirk was creeping up on Azriels face as if he knew something Cassian didn’t know.
Frustration streamed through him, he had to put down the drink and hold on to the counter, fearing he might throw the glass at the next wall. “Yes! And it doesn’t matter anyway, because she definitely has a date for tonight.”
“Does she now? Well turn around.” As Cassian did he set his eyes on the most breathtaking creature he had ever seen.
Y/N walked into the room, in a dress that shimmered like the moon itself. It was hugging her beautiful curves, then flowed to the ground from right beneath her hips, getting wider the lower it got. Oh, what he would have given to be the one to help her out of this dress later on. Her hair was pinned up, leaving her long neck on display. Cassian wanted to mark every inch of it with his tongue and teeth, until all the males in Prythian knew that she belonged with him.
His heartbeat rose up at the sight of her. She looked like a freaking goddess, drawing all the attention on her. It seemed like everyone wanted to know who the beautiful girl was. Did she even realise how they were staring at her? Women, who looked like they either wanted to kill her, or be her? Men longing after her, just like he did right now?
If she had noticed the attention lying on her she ignored it, for she strode threw the crowd, chin up, her eyes scanning the room as if she was looking for someone.
But the prettiest sight, even though he hated himself for it, was the fact that there was no other man on her arm. “She is alone!”
Cassian had whispered the words to himself, still in trance from the sight of her. He had not realised that the shadowsinger still stood behind him.“Yep, she is. And I can tell you the exact two reasons why.”
The General couldn’t tear his eyes from her. He feared she would disappear if he did, as if she was only an illusion. Thankfully Azriel seemed to understand as he spoke on without a request. “You do realise that you are literally growling at every male that comes near her? It’s like you are her personal guard dog who is following her around everywhere.”
Now the frustration crept back into Cassian and he broke his stare, trying to ignore the physical pain he felt in his chest while doing so. “Wait, you are making it sound like it’s my fault! Oh great, so she is probably pissed at me too.”
Azriel wore that annoying smirk again, Cassian could have punched him in the face for it. He decided to look at her again instead. “Well, she should be pissed if she really wanted to have somebody else as her date. Yet, she isn’t. Which leads me to reason number two.”
“Oh yeah, and what would that be?”
“The fact that she is so absolutely disinterested in any of those guys that they can see it on her face. She might speak to them and smile at them, but her eyes only ever light up when she looks at you.” As if on clue Y/N’s eyes met Cassian’s and rested there. She was gifting him a radiant smile and her eyes…they glittered as if they held a thousand stars in them. It was that moment he realised that she had been searching the room for him. And that the man who was now laying a scarred hand on his shoulder had been right.
“Please, do us all a favour and go get your girl, brother.” With that Azriel grabbed the drinks for him and Mor and silently made his way back to where their friend was located.
Cassian started to move. He needed to get to her as soon as possible. She was like a magnetic force pulling him to her and it seemed like she might have felt the same as she took her steps in his direction. They never broke eye contact on their sheer never ending way to each other. When they finally met each other in the middle of the room he was so overwhelmed by her presence that he couldn’t say anything but a whispered “Hi”.
She grinned up at him, got on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Hi”
Cassian could literally feel the blush threatening to reveal him. He decided to distract her from it. “Didn’t you want to bring someone with you?”
“No, nobody asked me to be honest. But I guess I should have considered that. It’s probably just me…I mean it’s always been that way, right?” Cassian knew that look on her face. He had seen it multiple times, whenever Y/N started to feel low about herself, started to believe those ugly words these men had spoken to her a lifetime ago.
It wasn’t his intention, to make her feel like this on maybe the most important day in her years schedule.
His brain tried to find a solution for the mess he navigated himself into. He wanted to cheer her up, to spend a fairytale like evening with her before he would confess everything he kept secret from her ever since the both of them met.
But his silly little heart acted faster than he could think about something. “I’m asking you!”
“What?” Now it was her turn to blush.
There was no going back now. There would be no perfect timing and no privacy. He would tell her right here, right now, with maybe a hundred people gathering around them, in the middle of the ballroom. And if all of Velaris would call him a lovesick fool by tomorrow so be it. He didn’t give a damn about it. “I’m asking you to be my date!”
There was utter disbelief in her eyes and something that looked like worry. “Cassian, are you drunk or something?”
“Yes I am sweetheart. Drunk on you. But if you mean drunk in the traditional way then no, I’m not.”
“Cassie…” Her bashful gaze dropped to the ground. There was a strain in her voice that almost sounded like sadness, because she was afraid. Afraid that the man in front of her was only playing with her, not meaning anything he said right now.
Another small gesture Cassian recognised about her. It felt like she was a mysterious book, written in a language only he could decipher.
He used his fingers to lift up her chin, desperate for her to see the truth in his eyes.
“I should have asked you that earlier I know that. I wanted to ask you but I was so scared that you would say no and that I would risk whatever we have between us. But tonight I’ve realised what an idiot I’ve been who misinterpreted everything, or at least I hope so because otherwise this could end badly. Well, even if it does I want to say it because you deserve to know how I feel about you and I want you to see what an amazing person you are.”
Cassian had rambled his words so fast, his lungs forced him to take a breath before his crucial statement. “I love you Y/N…So will you give me the honour and make me the happiest man alive by being mine? For Starfall and for eternity?”
Her eyes went wide in surprise, her mouth agape. She looked at him as if he came from another world, as if she had never seen him before. Cassian could almost see her brain trying to realise what he had just said.
He wasn’t sure how long they stood like this, but her silence was killing him. This moment, where he could do nothing but wait for her response that didn’t seem to come. Facing that thing under the library again appeared less stressful than the uncertainty he currently found himself in. “Sweetheart? Not that I want to sound rude, but I think this is the part where you should say something.“
The disbelief in her eyes turned into mischief and before Cassian could register it she was wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him down and kissing him.
He had expected a lot of things. Tears, because he had ruined their friendship. Or that she would burst out into anger, maybe throwing a shoe at his head like Feyre did to Rhysand. That she would never want to see him again. Yet she was kissing him, in front of everyone else. As if she had planned to do it for the longest time. Just like he did.
Kissing her was like everything he expected it to be and more. A thousand butterflies erupted in his stomach, travelling through his body to kiss every part that was him awake. Her fingers tangled in his hair and he moaned into the kiss at the feeling of it. There was a soft voice in his head, singing over and over again. Mine, mine, mine.
The Illyrian already missed her lips when she pulled away, chasing after them to feel the softness again, to taste their sweetness. Cauldron, he was obsessed with her by only one kiss. In that moment she could have told him to jump from the balcony with his wings bound together, like once during the blood rite, he would have done it.
She started to leave soft kisses on his neck, travelling up to his ear, and if the act itself didn’t drive him crazy than her hummed word definitely did. “Yes!”
Cassian couldn’t help but growl at her answer and in the next second he lifted her up and spun her around, enjoying the beautiful sound that was her laughter.
When the music started to play he put her back on her feet. Her hair was now slightly out of place, face a little bit red, but for Cassian she was still stunning. He wanted to take her to his room, to show her just how gorgeous she was in his opinion, but this would have to wait. For this was Starfall and he wanted to spend it with her. So he performed a slight bow in front of her, taking her hand in his to put a light kiss on her knuckles. „Would you like to dance with me, my lady?“
He could have sworn her giggles lit up the whole ball room before she answered him. „I would love to dance with you, General. Until the sun creeps up behind the mountains again.“
And so they did. They were dancing the whole night, never breaking eye contact and only stopped to watch the magnificent sight of the souls travelling along the sky. Later, when the thoughtful celebration had turned into a party, they could be seen dancing with their friends, sharing their luck with them.
The whispers that could be heard throughout Velaris the next day were positive ones, stating what a beautiful couple the both of them made. Although some claimed to have seen the General tackling their High Lord to the ground when he returned with the cursebreaker, laughing and screaming while doing so. “Rhysie! I have a girlfriend now!”
Tags: @hellodarling1357
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oceanisty · 19 hours
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Hello, you can skip if you want.
After reading your anemo boys harem fic I just wanted to ask if you can give us headcanons or another one shots, I just like the way you write them and your writing is great.
P.s. love your writing
Hello! I'm glad that you enjoyed my anemo harem fic! and thank you so much! I'm so happy that you love them <3 I'm currently forcing myself to get outta the writers block cause MY GOODNESS it's draining me. I am SO SORRY that this took TOO LONG cause I'm getting more and more burnt out lately cause I'm gonna enter my senior year of highschool in like a few months (Damn I'm getting old...) Also, 2 blogs in a day? Damn that's a personal record. Anyways, MORE SHORT KINGS! I decided to make a few headcanons for them individually but this is STILL AN ANEMO BOYS HAREM!
Part 1
YOU ARE A TRAVELER IN TEYVAT, BUT YOU ARE NOT THE TRAVELER!
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➼ Venti who would wait for you at the gates of Mondstadt whenever he heard from Aether that he's coming for a visit with you.
➼ Venti who would greet you with his cheerful giggles and tight hugs like he hasn't seen you in AGES! (It was only for a month but it felt like ages for this little man)
➼ Venti who would give you a personal performance, a song he wrote dedicated to you. His precious windblume <3
➼ Venti who would not even try to hide the fact that he is really, literally WHIPPED for you.
"[Name]! Could you do me a favor? A tini tiny one!"
"What would it be?"
"Can I have a kiss?"
"....what?"
"what?"
➼ Venti who demands you to play and braid his hair in any style you want, he will wear for the whole day with a proud grin.
➼ Venti who would go around and tell people that you're his favorite person and his beloved flower, you had to keep reminding people of Mondstadt that you and Venti are not dating whenever you visit.
➼ Just Venti being Venti, very deeply in love with you.
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☆ Xiao who would wait for you at Wangshu Inn, hoping to see you once he got the words that you're coming to Liyue for a visit.
☆ Xiao who would uncharacteristically be worried about how he looks for the first time in decades cause he doesn't want to look different from the last time you saw him.
☆ Xiao who would hand-make jewels using pearls, crystals, pretty rocks, just anything he finds beautiful in the wild to give it to you.
☆ Xiao who tried to hide that he wants to spend time with you but fails miserably.
"[Name]... if you don't mind, would you like to join me to watch the stars again?"
"Didn't you told me that you're mostly busy at night, fighting off demons?"
".......... I sensed earlier that tonight, they wont be much of a problem to handle unlike the usual days. So... I assumed that I could take a break for once in a while."
"That's... very unlike you. But alright!"
☆ Xiao who accidentally called you "Qingxin" once when he was admiring you watching the night sky.
☆ Xiao who would watch over you if you fell asleep, putting some crystalflies on your hair. How dare you being the most beautiful glowing star in his live. It makes him feel weird.
☆ Just Xiao being Xiao, obviously in love with you.
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𖥸 Kazuha who would purposely go to places you would visit on the same day just so he could run into you and join you.
𖥸 Kazuha who would accompany you on your adventures most of the times and didn't even realized it until later on.
𖥸 Kazuha who would collect flowers that would remind him of you and keep it in a special box.
𖥸 Kazuha who would obviously write a poem to you, purposely using fancy words so you would have a hard time understanding what it means.
"That was so beautiful... could you write me another one in this second?"
"Why of course, my dove. Anything for you..."
"By the way, what did it mean?"
"That's for you to figure out <3"
𖥸 Kazuha who would play with your hair anytime, anywhere. Even place some soft kisses. That little blush that appeared on your face makes you look so cute!
𖥸 Kazuha who would be very affectionate to you both in public and private, makes other people wonder if you two are a couple. He doesn't even bother to correct them if they asked.
𖥸 Just Kazuha being Kazuha, hopelessly in love with you.
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༄ Heizou who would immediately look for you once you arrived in Inazuma.
༄ Heizou who would walk beside you with his arm around your shoulder like it's not a problem. Ignore the stares and focus on our mission!
༄ Heizou who would flirt with you 25/8 non-stop, your flustered face is just so adorable!
[insert Heizou leaning close to your face]
"U-Uhm... Heizou?
[insert Heizou holding your chin with his thumb and index finger]
"H-Heizou?!"
"Hm... your eyes are much more beautiful up close."
༄ Heizou who would stare at you with the FONDEST, THE SOFTEST SMILE whenever you're happy or excited. You're just the prettiest person in his eyes.
༄ Heizou who would tickle your tickle spots just to hear those melodic laugh of yours.... and to also annoy the hell out of you.
༄ Just Heizou being Heizou, head over heels in love with you.
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❥ Wanderer who would place his hat on your head whenever it's sunny or rainy.
❥ Wanderer follow you everywhere and anywhere you go in Sumeru because Nahida "told him to" and that he has "nothing better to do" currently.
❥ Wanderer who would make so many excuses, just to engage in a physical contact with you. Your body is just so warm against his, he couldn't help it. He likes the feeling of warmth...
"Uhm... Wanderer?"
"What?"
"Why are you holding me close?"
"This forest is dangerous to travel if alone, bet you'll get lost if I don't keep you close."
"There's literally little to no creatures roaming around this area, the forest rangers said it."
"..."
"..."
"Listen, who knows if-"
❥ Wanderer who would be a clingy little octopus in close doors, our man has no shame to cuddle up to you at night like you're a little plush.
❥ Wanderer who couldn't hide his jealousy if you came to Sumeru accompanied by Aether or Kazuha.
❥ Just Wanderer being Wanderer, totally in love with you.
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✭ Aether who would go around collecting flowers, just so he could have a bouquet ready for you whenever you cross paths.
✭ Aether who would tell you stories about his twin sister, his little secrets, and even hinting some small confessions to see if you caught onto it. You didnt
✭ Aether who would ALWAYS help you with anything in any way, even if you don't need any help, he insisted that he should. Sometimes, his eagerness shows a little too much.
"Hey [Name]! I heard that you've taken a commission from Neuvillette. Let me help you with it?"
"Oh! No need, Aether. He just wants me to deliver a few boxes of important documents for Wrio-"
"Great! Let's go get them!"
"Wait, I didn't agree-"
"It's fine, c'mon! More time to spend with you, the better!"
✭ Aether who would take you to the BEST places in Teyvat to spend time together. Thanks to him being a very active traveler, he knows which places would make your jaw drop.
✭ Aether who would insist on making his teapot your second home, he even made you a room right next to his! He also insisted that he wouldn't mind if you go to his room to sleep with him- wait what?
✭ Just Aether being Aether, extremely in love with you.
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Made by @oceanisty on 27/03/2024.
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jackoshadows · 1 day
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I think we don't talk enough about how Jon Snow secretly had a sword made for Arya at Winterfell - without anyone knowing! And that this was something he was planning on for a while, with the intention to teach Arya some fundamental sword skills - without anyone knowing!!
It reminds me about how much Arya must have poured out her heart and soul to Jon Snow about EVERYTHING, considering how much Jon knows about her. The very best of confidantes who guarded their secrets with each other and are the most loyal of siblings.
It was to Jon Snow that Arya goes, after being bullied for her looks, worried that she too was a bastard and Jon who consoled her (ignoring his own pain at being one). It's Jon who praises her as pretty and clever and understands that deep curiosity and ambition in her.
It's Jon who understands that Arya is interested in something different and that this is also deserving of attention. The ONLY person in the whole of Winterfell - not her parents, her other siblings, her teacher. Only Jon Snow.
I can imagine Jon and Arya just hanging out in a quiet corner of the Godswood, under the weirwood, with Arya pouring out her frustrations and chatting about playing with the serving girls and Jon talking about his day practicing the sword. They know each other so well, that they are famous for finishing each other's thoughts. They share such a singular bond that he even got her sword name right!!
Arya seemed puzzled at first. Then it came to her. She was that quick. They said it together: "Needle!" The memory of her laughter warmed him on the long ride north. - Jon, AGoT
Making Needle wouldn't have been easy considering it had to be done secretly. Clearly Jon thought that both his father and Catelyn wouldn't have been happy if they knew that the bastard was having swords made for their daughter.
"Give it to me." Reluctantly Arya surrendered her sword, wondering if she would ever hold it again. Her father turned it in the light, examining both sides of the blade. He tested the point with his thumb. "A bravo's blade," he said. "Yet it seems to me that I know this maker's mark. This is Mikken's work." Lord Eddard Stark sighed. "My nine-year-old daughter is being armed from my own forge, and I know nothing of it. The Hand of the King is expected to rule the Seven Kingdoms, yet it seems I cannot even rule my own household. How is it that you come to own a sword, Arya? Where did you get this?" - Arya, AGoT
Jon Snow took the time to research swords that Arya could hold and handle. He must have been up in Maester Luwin's turret looking through books for the design and asked questions of the Winterfell master-at-arms Rodrik Cassel about Braavosi swords.
She giggled at him. "It's so skinny." "So are you," Jon told her. "I had Mikken make this special. The bravos use swords like this in Pentos and Myr and the other Free Cities. It won't hack a man's head off, but it can poke him full of holes if you're fast enough." - Jon, AGoT
He'd had Mikken make a sword for Arya once, a bravo's blade, made small to fit her hand. Needle. He wondered if she still had it. Stick them with the pointy end, he'd told her, but if she tried to stick the Bastard, it could mean her life. - Jon, ADwD
It had been so long since he had last seen Arya. What would she look like now? Would he even know her? Arya Underfoot. Her face was always dirty. Would she still have that little sword he'd had Mikken forge for her? Stick them with the pointy end, he'd told her. Wisdom for her wedding night if half of what he heard of Ramsay Snow was true. Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl. - Jon, ADwD
After getting the idea of what kind of sword works for Arya's small hands, Jon then goes to Mikken, requesting that he make a small Bravo's blade. I feel certain that Mikken had no idea that he was secretly having a sword made for the Lord of Winterfell's daughter. I wonder what Mikken's thoughts were on Jon Snow wanting that specific blade made. He clearly did not think it important to mention to Ned. And no one knew - not Robb or Theon or even the Winterfell master-at-arms!
Given how sudden the whole deal was with Ned leaving for King's Landing, IMO, it's clear that Jon was planning on secret rendezvous with Arya where he could show her the basics of using a sword. Jon is certainly no Syrio Forel and Arya certainly learned more from an actual Bravo master fencer than from Jon Snow.
And yet just knowing that Jon had Needle secretly made and was planning on secret lessons for Arya because he knew just how desperate she was to learn something different, something unacceptable for Winterfell's daughter and that he did so at the great risk of displeasing a father he looked up to and the Lady Catelyn Stark who already wanted him gone.
He truly is Lyanna's son in every way that mattered.
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redocity · 2 days
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Evan Buckley x fiancée reader
Reader and Evan are recently engaged. Reader gets shot by the sniper instead of Eddie, Buck gets covered in her blood and attempts to save her (like the episode) and then just go from there please ❤️‍🩹. Please include lots of angst, sadness and happiness too 🫶
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EMERGENCY ROOM - E.BUCKLEY
after a completely normal day on the job, you get shot seemingly out of nowhere. buck does not handle it well.
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WARNINGS: spoilers for 04x13 and 04x14, established relationship, major character injury, blood, guns, buck is on the verge of a mental breakdown for most of it
buck x fiancée!reader II flangst Il 4.2k Il requests open!
a/n: i had so much fun writing the little fluffy bits at the beginning and the end i love them your honour
₊ ⊹ masterlist!!
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“I know right?” You finally had a few minutes to fawn over your newest accessory now that you’d managed to secure Charlie away from his mother and get him into an ambulance, holding your left arm up in front of you and wiggling your fingers to show off the shiny rock on your ring finger towards Eddie. “Who would’ve thought he was so focused on the details?”
“Hey!” Buck nudges you as he walks past, shaking his head with a smile. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“People like you aren’t exactly known for their ‘detail orientation’ Buck,” Eddie laughs as he walks past him, pushing his head with the palm of his hand. “Good job on defying expectations,”
“Hey I am plenty detail oriented thank you,” gestures outwards exasperatedly, glancing at you for backup for his statement. You give him nothing more than a shrug of your shoulders.
“Shannon was the same when I bought her ring don’t worry,” Eddie pats Buck’s shoulder. “Went on this whole rant about how she never expected me to put so much thought into how it looked, I think it’s just a girl thing,”
“It’s not-” You scoff, putting a hand up in front of him in absolute astoundment. “I am trying to show my appreciation for the thought that went into making this ring fit my preferences, and you are making me feel disrespected,”
You point between the two boys in exaggerated disappointment, turning your face away from the two with a click of your tongue and a shake of your head.
“Oh come on baby seriously?” Evan sighs dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest and letting his head fall back until he’s facing the sky.
“You’ve hitched your wagon to a tank,” Eddie pats Buck’s shoulder once more, and the two share a short laugh.
“I’m gonna ride with Charlie to the hospital, you two good to get back to the station and tell Bobby?” Buck nods towards Eddie, giving him a small nudge towards the ambulance. “Yeah go ahead, we got it from here,”
“Thanks,” He returns Buck’s nod and then sends a finger salute in your direction. “See you later Mrs. Buckley, try not to kill him before the wedding,”
You laugh shortly at Eddie’s jest, shaking your head. “See you Eddie, give us a call if anything happens,”
“Will do!” He shoots the two of you a wave as he jogs towards the ambulance, climbing inside before the doors get shut behind him.
“Mrs Buckley,” Buck takes a few steps forward to grasp gently at your hips and pull you close to his chest, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I could get used to the sound of that,”
You give a soft hum as his lips press to your temple, turning your face upwards to kiss him properly. “I’d hope so,”
You pull out of his grasp with a soft laugh, pressing the keys to the paramedic car against Buck’s chest for him to take before actually beginning to walk towards the vehicle.
“We’ll have to get you a new turnout jacket too,” Buck follows behind you with a smile etched onto his face, eyes scanning over the last name printed on the back of your jacket. One you wouldn’t have for much longer.
“It’d be pretty confusing to have two Buckleys in the same station, the jacket might have to stay,” You turn around to face him once more with a smile of your own, arms crossed across your chest. “We’ll know the truth though,”
You shoot Buck a wink and he laughs, stopping a few feet in front of you and mirroring the way your arms are crossed with his own. “Are you saying that I can’t show off the fact that you’ll have my last name to every single stranger we meet on the job? Because I don’t know if that’s gonna fly with me,”
“I’m sure you’ll find an excuse to let them know, you’ve got a talent-” Your retort is halted by a sharp sound, then a searing pain in your right shoulder, and then you can feel yourself tumble to the floor as your legs give out underneath you under no will of your own.
Buck flinches as you do, a mix of shock from the noise and an instinctual reaction to the splatter that covers side of his face and stripes of his button down shirt.
Then it feels like the world just stops. Buck stands there with wide eyes as he watches you hit the pavement, in an awake state of sleep paralysis as a pool of blood begins to seep onto the pavement and stain the tarmac red underneath you.
He wanted to shout, to run, to move, Anything.
But he couldn’t so much as curl his hands into fists as he stood stationary in shock, eyes wide and locked onto where you’d crumpled into yourself on the concrete.
It took one of the other firefighters on the scene physically tackling him down to the ground for him to move, and even then his eyes never left yours, just barely open as you slip in an out of consciousness.
“Get down!” Mehta yelled across the group of vehicles as he pulled Buck behind one of the trucks, covering him with his own body as he tried to radio for help. “Shots fired. Shots fired a firefighter is down. I repeat, a firefighter is down!”
Buck can feel himself hyperventilate, his hearing going quiet until the sounds of the civilians nearby are drowned out and replaced with his own racing heartbeat. He watches as your hand crawls forward along the pavement in his direction as if silently trying to confirm to him that you were okay, but the far away look in your eyes wasn’t reassuring him at all.
Then your eyelids fluttered and you weren’t looking at him anymore, your hand left still in front of you with the stones on your finger glinting in the sunlight like a sick taunt of Buck’s anguish.
Shots continued to rain over the fire engines, and as Mehta moved from Buck to radio dispatch again he mustered all of the strength he physically could under the rush of adrenaline in his system to make a break for where you were laying, crawling underneath the bed of the truck as cover as he watched you roll from your side onto your back. “Come on baby! I’m coming I got you!”
You groan through the pain as you roll over, still conscious despite the agony raging through your shoulder and down the rest of your arm as you squint your eyes from the harsh sunlight.
Buck gets as far out as he can without exposing himself to the raining shots, grasping at your wrist as soon as he’s close enough and tugging until you’re dragged under the engine and onto the other side protected by the metal of the truck.
The friction sends another sharp wave of pain through your body, a sharp yell leaving your throat as you’re dragged across the concrete.
“Get her in the cabin! Quickly!” Mehta and a few other firefighters from station 133 rush to open and prep the back of the truck to cover you inside, and Buck pulls you into a fireman’s hold over his shoulder as quickly — and carefully — as he can to secure you safely.
Another shot is fired in the group’s direction as you’re pulled out of Buck’s hold and onto the seats, shattering the glass of the window and only further hastening the efforts of the firefighters as everyone clambers into the truck to rush away from the scene, leaving the paramedics car you’d driven over in erupted in flames on the side of the road.
“Okay, we got you, we got you you’re okay,” Buck lays you down across the back of the truck with help from one of the paradmedic’s from station 133 with panic written all over his face, continuing to speak reassurances to you in haste, mostly trying to reassure himself that you would be alright.
He rips open the top of your uniform shirt, paying no mind to the buttons that are pulled from their stitching in his haste to cover your gunshot wound in gauze and stop it from bleeding out. “We got you baby you’re okay, just- just stay with me okay?”
Your vision is blurry as you blink up at him, and you can vaguely hear Mehta calling for a trauma unit on standby as you attempt to lift your head slightly to clear your vision of Buck’s face. “…Are you hurt? There’s a lot of blood..”
Buck follows your eyes as they trail down the stains covering the front of his torso, and he shakes his head quickly as he brushes a stray strand of hair from your face. “No no no, I’m good baby, you just hang on for me okay?”
The hand that’s not stopping your wound from bleeding all over the place moves to cup the side of your face, thumb brushing over your cheek softly, a stark contrast to the way he practically barks at the driver of the truck to hurry up.
You barely manage to lift up your arm to cover his hand with your own over your cheek, shaking your head slightly under his palm. “You shouldn’t shout at people…”
“I know baby I’m sorry-” He takes a sharp breath in as he turns his attention back to focusing on you and not on the fact he felt like this drive was taking forever.
The paramedic in the back helps to stabilise your head as you start to slip out of consciousness again, and buck rubs his thumb over your cheekbone to get you to keep your eyes on his. “Hey, three minutes away, you’re so close, I just need you to hang-”
It wasn’t working very well.
The paramedic preps and secures an oxygen mask over your mouth as your eyes start to flutter closed.
“I just need you to hang on…please…”
This wasn’t what was supposed to happen.
He’d just asked you to marry him, you were supposed to be spending the evening celebrating.
You were supposed to get married and have children and grow old together.
Not get shot and bleed out in the back of a fire truck.
Buck jumps out of the vehicle the minute it stops in the hospital, practically screaming for the doctors to come and get you out.
“Through and through, upper torso,” Mehta explains your injury with just as much panic as Buck, although remains decidedly more collected as he barrels out of the front to watch you get pulled onto a gurney. “Large caliber-”
“We’ve got transfusion ready-” One of the nurses gives Mehta a nod before stopping as she takes in the last part of the explanation. “Did you say large caliber?”
“It was a sniper-”
“Pulse is weak! Trauma bay 2, quickly!” The medical team rush with you on the gurney towards the entrance of the hospital’s emergency unit with Buck watching on like everything was happening in slow motion. “Let’s set up for a thoracotomy-”
“Buckley, are you okay?” Mehta looks over at Buck with concern written all over his face as he examines the stains of your blood covering his face, torso, and hands, and Buck waves him off with nothing but a dismissive nod as an answer as his eyes remain locked on the door you disappear into, the the 133 firefighters, Mehta included, following after you inside.
He was not okay.
“Hey,” Eddie approached Buck carefully, but he still jumped at his voice anyhow. Eddie gave a short sigh through furrowed eyebrows, face contorting in concern. “She’s gonna be okay man, she’s strong, you know that don’t you?”
Eddie placed his hand slowly on Buck’s shoulder, immediately able to feel the trembling in his hands that traveled up his arms and into his back. “She was standing right in front of me I-”
“Hey.” Eddie swerved Buck to look at him, shaking his head. “This was not your fault. Nobody knows what happened. When’s going to be alright, you’ve just gotta put faith in her,”
Buck took a series of short, staggered breaths through his nose with a small nod, clasping his hands together to keep them from shaking. “I need to change- And have a shower-”
“You need to take a second to breathe,”
“You don’t get it I-” Buck exhales heavily, his eyes flickering as he turns to face Eddie. “I can still feel it under my fingernails and no matter how many times I wash my hands it won’t go away-”
“Okay slow down for a second,” Eddie raises his hand up to stop Buck from falling into a spiral. “You can’t go home alone like this, you’re not okay,”
“I don’t know what to do-”
“Alright, you’re coming back with me, come on,” Eddie pats Buck’s shoulder, guiding him through the parking lot towards his car.
A sniper who was specifically targeting firefighters, who would’ve thought.
Being sent back out into the field wearing bullet proof vests and swat protection didn’t feel any more secure than proceeding unprotected Buck thinks. If they were going to get shot with a bullet proof vest on then the sniper would just aim for somewhere not covered by the vest.
And it only proved to remind him that you didn’t have the protection you needed when you were shot. Why should he be surrounded by swat agents and covered in kevlar when you weren’t afforded the same luxury.
You ‘took one for the team’ as people would say. But you shouldn’t have had to. Why you?
It was such a selfish thought, but he would’ve rathered any other firefighter on the scene get shot as long as it wasn’t you. He’d’ve rathered get shot himself than it being you.
But apparently the universe was conspiring against him, making him watch and suffer from the sidelines as everything he cared about got ruined one by one.
Maybe that was why he was so reckless. Maybe that was why he climbed the crane with zero protection when he knew he could’ve been shot at from any of the windows of the surrounding skyscrapers and loose his own life whilst still debating how he would live if you lost yours.
He could see the look Bobby gave him as he was lowered down to the ground again, preparing himself for another scolding about him being ‘reckless’ once they got back to the station.
But it never came.
In fact, Bobby didn’t speak to him at all.
“Are you gonna say anything to me?”
Bobby puts down the chopping knife with a sigh, turning around to see Buck leant against the kitchenette sink. “I don’t know Buck, what would you like me to say?”
“Uh… I mean- I mean usually it’s- ‘what were you thinking?’ or ‘that was reckless’ or my… personal favourite ‘you could’ve been killed’.”
“It doesn’t seem like I need to have that conversation, you know it by heart already.” Bobby gestures exasperatedly before picking the knife back up to continue chopping the onion on the table in front of him. “And still, you went full Buck.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing-” Buck approaches Bobby slowly, arms braced over his stomach in a self-soothing fashion.
Bobby sighs once more as Buck doesn’t drop the conversation, giving up his chopping to put his full attention on Buck. “You’ll never be the guy who thinks before he acts. And i’ve learned to come to terms with that,”
”In part because I realised I don’t have a choice, you’re never gonna change,” Bobby gestures outwards with his hands before clasping them together. “But also because… I know no matter what actions you take, no matter how dangerous or impulsive they may be, they come from your heart because you care.”
“Wow, uh, thank you,” Buck gives a soft chuckle as he claps his fist into his hand, clearly happy that he wasn’t getting a scolding this time around.
“Today was not that.” Bobby paused for a second before continuing. “You didn’t get caught up in some moment and rush in where angels fear to tread, you made a deliberate choice to make yourself a target.”
“Yeah.” Buck shrugs his shoulders exasperatedly. “I made myself a target because I wasn’t gonna let any of you guys take that risk because I cannot handle anyone else getting hurt right now.”
“And what about her? How do you think she would feel if she wakes up in the hospital to find out you got yourself killed because you weren’t being careful?”
Buck didn’t really have an answer to that question.
“You have responsibilities Buck. You have a responsibility to this team, you have a responsibility to your fiancée, and most importantly you have a responsibility to yourself.” Bobby shakes his head disappointedly, crossing his arms over his chest. “You cannot keep putting yourself in reckless situations Buckley because there are people around you that need you alive.”
Buck exhales heavily, biting the inside of his cheek. “Look I couldn’t protect her from getting shot, but today? I had an opportunity to protect the rest of you. So I did.”
Bobby sighs as he turns back to the half diced onion, finishing chopping it slowly. “We are a team, and we’re supposed to protect each other.”
There’s a small moment of silence before Bobby turns to look at Buck for a final time, a stern expression on his face, although lingering traces of gracefulness simmer into the wrinkles by his eyes. “Don’t do it again.”
The doctors said the surgery went well. It was probably one of the most relieving moments of his life.
He didn’t have time to visit you immediately though, the team had to go on a call out first.
And of course, because nothing was ever easy, the man who’d called 911 from the fire was also the sniper who was targeting firefighters.
Bobby ended up with a pistol shot to his abdomen, and after helping Athena get into the building dressed in firefighter gear to subdue the sniper the team headed straight to the hospital, now with two team members induced for bullet wounds instead of just one.
Bobby’s was much less severe than yours, but he was still put in for surgery, and Buck decided that it was a good time to visit you down the hall in the recovery unit.
You were still unconscious when he arrived, and it physically pained him to see you hooked up to so many machines as he took a seat at your bedside.
“Hey baby…” He took your limp hand in his own, fingers brushing over your knuckles and the ring still resting on your finger. “The doctors said that your surgery went well… So you should wake up soon…”
He lets out a small stunted exhale as he lifts your hand up to his mouth to press a kiss to your fingers. “I was so worried about you… God you scared me half to death-”
He continues to fiddle aimlessly with your fingers as he recounts the events of what happened to your sleeping self, how he risked his life, how Athena ran into a burning building to find Bobby and how he’d been bothering Eddie and Christopher for the last few days so he wouldn’t have to be on his own.
He told you how he’d moved the reservation of your engagement dinner so you wouldn’t have to miss it, laughing softly to himself at how excited you were to go to that specific resturaunt and try everything they had to offer.
He stayed after regular visitor hours were over, using his position as your fiancé to stay just a little while longer as a priority visitor, not wanting to miss the moment you woke up.
He ended up missing it anyway.
You woke up slowly, eyes fluttering open to the florescent lighting and the rhythmic beeping of the heart rate monitor.
The most prominent thing though, was an added weight on your left thigh, right near your stomach.
A mop of sandy blond hair is what meets your sight first, then your follow it down to his broad shoulders and his back, awkwardly bent forward in his chair to lay his weight on top of you. Then you noticed your hands caged together, his fingers intertwined with yours and held close to his chest.
The sight makes your heart melt a little, and you smile softly as you achily pull your right hand over to thread your fingers through his hair.
He stirs almost immediately, and you can feel his eyelashes brush against your thigh through the thin hospital bedsheets as he pushes himself upwards slowly until he’s supporting his own weight again.
“Hi baby…”
Buck lets out a short breath as your voice meets his ears, features flooded with relief. “Hi…”
You mirror the smile that breaks onto his face with your own, expression still laced with fatigue but also filled with your absolute love for him. He’d really stayed with you in the hospital for so long he’d fallen asleep.
“How’re you feeling?” Buck’s gaze flickers from your face to your bandaged right arm, and you give him a small shake of your head to dismiss his worries.
“I’m okay, takes more than puny bullet to put me out of commission,” You give him a soft wink and he gives you a little chuckles in return.
“You’re one tough lady…” he leans forward towards you until your foreheads brush against each other and your noses bump together. “I’m glad you’re okay…”
“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” You laugh softly, shaking your head against his and causing your noses to brush back and forth. “You put a ring on it remember?”
You pull back enough to flash your hand at him and show of your ring like he wasn’t the one who bought it for you.
He pulls your hand down into his lap without a care in the world for looking at the gemstone on your finger, his eyes not wavering from yours for even a second as he cups your face for a kiss, one filled with all the love and pain and anxiety and relief that he’d felt over the last few days.
“I love you so much-”
His lips leave you almost breathless, and you give his hand a soft squeeze. “I love you too Evan,”
He pulls you in for another kiss almost before you can even finish your sentence, and you laugh softly against his lips at the fervour. as you return his enthusiasm.
He shifts his hand down from your face closer to your neck as the kiss continues, and you groan against his mouth as it brushes a little too close to the brushing around your shoulder, pulling away with a hiss of pain.
“Ow ow ow-”
“Oh I’m so sorry-” Buck brings both his hands up away from you like he’s not exactly sure what to do with them, eyes wide in imminent panic of hurting you further.
The expression on his face sends you into a small for of giggles, and it’s enough to ease his panic back into calmness as you prove that he hadn’t actually hurt you.
“You always were a little rough with your hands,” You tilt your head against the pillow with an amused expression on your face, and it’s enough for him to crack a smile himself as you reach up your hand to pull his head back down towards yours.
Your lips connect more with his teeth than his own lips as you kiss him through his smile, and he laughs softly into your mouth at your statement. “You’ve never complained,”
“I never will complain,” You shake your head against his softly with a laugh of your own, one that’s cut off by his lips on yours once more.
All’s well that ends well he supposes.
87 notes · View notes
meiladys-world · 2 days
Text
"Come over here." you move quickly as always with every command I drop to you. "Do you remember what happened last week when you were sitting on the edge of the bed before we played?" my left hand exploring your neck and shoulder while the other is pressed on your cheek, my thumb on your lips. "You don't remember? That's okay. Don't worry, pet." you did recall that day but not exactly what happened. Something is blocking your thoughts from it. Most importantly, you should be sucking my thumb instead of thinking. Well, more like pretending to think.
"Down, boy." a tap on your forehead and a whisper on your ear and suddenly there's no strength on your legs. You're kneeling happily, smiling while looking at me. "You're such a good boy, that every time you hear this bell, you feel your thoughts just floating away."
Look at what's in front of you. Focus on it, but let your mind wander away as your thoughts flow through.
Ring. "First, you forget what you were doing just before we started,"
Ring. "Then, you forget the most basic things like your name,"
Ring. "Next, you won't be able to count properly,"
Your breathing slow down. Your mind unable to form any thoughts. That's right, pretty thing like you shouldn't think. Just breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale...Exhale...Keep going...You're doing so great.
The ringing starts again but somehow it feels like it's in your head. Ringing continuously. It's always been there. Keeps you from thinking. Keeps you happy. Ringing and ringing as you slowly fall deeper and deeper and deeper.
You stay in that state for as long as you want. It's there to help you. You will know that a snap from me will wake you up slowly. And you'll forget what happened just like last time. Your thoughts will come back but they will be clearer. Less mean. Lighter.
"Now, pet, when you wake up and you feel yourself to be confused, just know that I'm here," You're blank and I am in control of you. But you know that you are safe under my command. Snap. Snap. Snap.
You look up at me with your adorable eyes waking up from a very nice dream. "Hey, there sweetie," and you know that you'll be once again under my control. And you enjoy it more than anything.
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murdockparker · 18 hours
Text
Roses and Regrets - Part 1
Anthony Bridgerton x Reader
Summary: Freshly out of mourning, Lady Barlow, née (Y/L/N), makes her re-debut in society. If only she could simply ignore a certain viscount...
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: none. enemies to lovers!!
A/N: I didn't expect this lil requested fic to turn into such an event, let alone a multi-part story! so, you're welcome or I'm sorry?
next part
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She was perfectly happy. 
Well, supposedly right now she wasn’t. 
Her husband, Lord Barlow, had passed away ten months ago, leaving her with an empty estate, a shiny title and more money than she knew what to do with. Lord Barlow was an old viscount, desperate for an heir and willing to do anything to get one. 
In came Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N).
Young, beautiful and well-bred, she was the perfect choice for any man of the ton. If only her father hadn’t a penchant for gambling. Perhaps she’d be married to a man more suited for her rather than the oaf of a dustbin she was forced to be with. She was no fool in believing in a love match for herself, rare and far between as they were, no, but she did have half a mind to imagine a kinder man as her husband. A man who perhaps cared even a little bit for her wellbeing. 
No matter. 
A dead man cannot care for her wellbeing either. 
“Lady Barlow,” a maid knocked, entering the ornate drawing room.
“Yes?” (Y/N) did not look up from her reading—the newest edition of Whistledown had just been delivered. While she herself was never one to gossip terribly, it was quite fun to keep up with the circus of the season. 
“Do you plan on attending the Danbury ball this eve?”
“I do not see the point,” she scoffed playfully, “after all, Meg, I am but a widow in mourning.”
“Perhaps her ladyship should reconsider?” Meg asked gently, placing a new pot of tea next to her lady. “I rather think it has been a socially acceptable amount of time since your husband’s passing.”
“If I am not to enjoy the perks of being a widow,” (Y/N) sighed, finally looking up at her favorite lady’s maid, “whatever is the point?”
“Perks that Viscount Barlow has graciously allowed you to use during your time of mourning—”
“The current viscount is all but twelve,” (Y/N) reminded. “He has no use for this estate in Mayfair until he himself becomes an adult, in which, I am sure he and his mother will come to make use of it. I believe if my maths are correct, that leaves me all of six years or so to use this home.”
“Forgive me my lady, but should you not be looking for a new husband, then?”
(Y/N) smiled at Meg. She enjoyed their friendship, her maid being only a handful of years older than herself, it made for a likely pair. “No one wishes to marry a widow,” she said simply, “widows are damaged goods. Every sensible man of the ton will be wanting a pretty little virgin instead.”
“My lady!”
“What?” She barked a laugh. “You know it to be true.”
“Regardless,” Meg said, clearing her throat. “Lord Barlow passed nearly a year ago, the period of mourning is rightfully over. You are expected to rejoin society.”
“Dreadful.”
“It is expected,” Meg repeated.
“It does not make it any less dreadful,” (Y/N) said. “Very well. Pull a dress and prepare a bath, it seems the ton gets to see my dreary face once again.”
Anthony Bridgerton was a man scorned. 
Particularly by his own mother in this very instance. How foolish he had been to share his intentions of marriage this season with her—for now she spread the news like a wildfire. Every desperate mama and her equally desperate daughter came flocking to him like bees to honey. 
It was only now, in the dark corner of the ballroom, that he found a respite.
“Looking a bit green, Lord Bridgerton,” a voice beside him called out. 
“I am not—” Anthony had huffed a reply before even knowing whom he was speaking to. “Lady Barlow.”
“I am shocked you can recall my name,” (Y/N) laughed over her champagne flute. “Considering how many new ones you’ve had thrown at you this eve.”
“You are out of mourning.”
“Is that a question?”
“It was an observation,” Anthony corrected.
“What gave it away? My bright dress? No tear stains left on my cheeks?”
“You are here, out and about,” Anthony said. “And, forgive me for not playing along with your delusions, but I do not think you cried much at all for Lord Barlow’s passing.”
“How dare you assume such a thing,” (Y/N) faux gasped. She had intended on pressing a hand to her chest. Intended, anyway. Somehow she forgot all about the champagne currently residing it her grasp. “Damn… this was a new dress too.”
“Good God,” he laughed. “First you are spilling all over yourself like a child and now you are cursing—tell me, do all married ladies act like you?”
“I am a widow,” (Y/N) had found a cloth and begun dabbing up the spill. It had only dribbled at most, but still, it was a new dress. “I rather think I can act the way I please.”
“Like a drunkard?”
“Like a free woman,” she said, fighting every childish urge to stick her tongue out at the viscount. “I am only here to show my face, prove I am still alive and I shall go about my merry way.”
“Lady Danbury is a widow,” Anthony noted. “Yet she still mingles with society.”
“I am not Lady Danbury.”
“You are not.”
“Do you not have young misses to go and woo?” (Y/N)’s eyes hardened. “Take your pick from the litter, Lord Bridgerton, any of them would be pleased to spend such valuable time with you.”
“Are you insinuating you are not?”
“I rather thought it was a statement, yes,” (Y/N) said.
Anthony’s eyes went only a fraction wider, nostrils flaring. “Well, if that is what you wish—”
“It is not a mean of wishing,” she laughed, “but really a necessity.”
“Good evening, Lady Barlow,” Anthony sneered, smoke practically coming out of his ears. If (Y/N) had half a mind she’d call for the authorities to put that fire out, instead, she simply finished her drink and smiled wistfully at the dancing ballroom, feeling fulfilled. 
Dearest Gentle Reader,
The season is in full swing thanks to the mark of Lady Agatha Danbury’s ball, a notable and traditional first event of the London scene. Eligible young ladies now on the Marriage Mart were enjoying their first taste at what fine society has to offer, however taxing or daunting it may be. 
Our resident Capital ‘R’ Rake, Viscount Anthony Bridgerton is finally deciding on a wife, surely making him the finest catch of the season. Matchmaking mamas and their young ladies alike were seen flocking to him like petulant children asking their parents for pin money, thanks to his own mother, Lady Bridgerton’s declaration of such an idea last night. The viscount seemingly had enough of the attention, taking like a wallflower and hiding away in the back of the ballroom near the end of the evening. 
His company? None other than Lady Barlow, evidently out of mourning as of last night. While the this Author is under good authority that the match between Lady Barlow and the late Lord Barlow was not a love match, given their fourty or fifty year age difference, it has taken the new dowager viscountess longer than most anticipated for her to get back into the season. A woman as young as Lady Barlow would be eager to find another husband to support her, but something tells me that she is quite enjoying her time as a widow and will not easily give that up. 
While this Author has very little idea of the actual nature of the relationship between Lord Bridgerton and Lady Barlow, it is only to be assumed that it is simply not a favorable one. The two were seen making a scene by the refreshment table, a scene that went unnoticed by many prying eyes of the ton, leaving Lord Bridgerton storming away and Lady Barlow with the winning hand. 
Good show, Lady Barlow. 
Lady Whistledown Society Papers
“Brother! You are in Whistledown!” Eloise sang to no one in particular. 
“I have no care that I am in that gossip rag,” Anthony ground out, rustling his newspaper. “I can only imagine it is just another advertisement of my search for a wife this season.”
“Er, yes, however—”
“However?” Anthony’s attention immediately shot up to his sister, newspaper be damned. 
“Who is Lady Barlow?” Eloise asked. 
“No one of importance,” Anthony could feel his temperature rising. 
“Lady Barlow?” Benedict laughed. “Is that who you were talking to last night dear Brother? Is she not still in mourning?”
“No.”
“No it is not who you were talking to, or no she is not still in mourning?” Benedict gave his brother an amusing glance.
“Oh, according to Whistledown—”
“Sister—”
“Eloise, you may not recall Lady Barlow, given you only just came out this season,” Benedict began, deciding that this conversation was very much worth his time this morning. “But she used to go by Miss (Y/L/N) before her marriage to the late viscount.”
“(Y/L/N)…” Eloise looked to the ceiling, finding nothing in particular. “Oh! Is she not the woman who—”
“I am taking my leave,” Anthony said abruptly, newspaper all but forgotten. 
“Escaping, Brother?” Benedict asked. 
“I have calls to make,” Anthony sneered, ignoring the pleased face his brother was making. “Excuse me.”
“It seems Lady Barlow is a touchy subject,” Eloise noted as her eldest brother left the drawing room. Benedict snorted. “What?”
“You do not even know the half of it, dear Sister.”
Anthony Bridgerton, did not in fact, have any calls to make. He had no impressionable interactions last night to warrant such a visit to anyone—the Queen was still in need of naming her diamond, after all—but he had no desire to stay and be berated by his family this morning. He truly had no plan, no thought in his head on where he was going, he just simply was. 
Apparently he was going to the park.
It was still early in the day, few people graced the park at such an hour. The few who did, however, were too busy reading the latest Whistledown to even notice him. Anthony saw a handful of post boys running opposite of his direction on his way here, it was only natural they scoped out this location. He knew it was going to be a problem the minute they finished reading—if Lady Whistledown truly wrote about him, which he had no reason to believe his sister was lying about, all eyes would be on him.
“Might as well enjoy the peace and quiet for now,” Anthony exhaled. He took a quick glance at his watch—half past eight. Hardly could he recall a time he took a turn about the park on his own, usually he was in the company of his family or holed away in his study worrying about expenses and the like, never did he take a moment to actually enjoy the grand weather such as the kind today. Determined to enjoy it, he sat down on a favorable bench and watched the birds swim across the pond.
“Unbelievable.”
He turned his head, only to find Lady Barlow dressed in a rather pleasantly pink dress and matching hat, a look of distaste on her face.
“I didn’t take you as the park-going type, Lord Bridgerton,” she nodded, folding her hands. She had been carrying a small red book in one of them. “Especially at such an early hour, too.”
“Lady Barlow,” he nearly sneered. “Can a man not enjoy the park?”
“Oh surely a man can,” (Y/N) agreed. “But you? You are no man.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“It seems to me that you’re sitting in my spot,” she ignored his quip, readjusting her stance in annoyance. “This is where I come to read.”
“Can you not read elsewhere?” Anthony asked. “There is an entire park at your disposal.”
“No,” she hummed. “Afraid not.”
“No?” He laughed. “Surely out of the entire park you can find a suitable spot to read your—let me guess—romantically inclined fodder?”
“Poetry,” she corrected, “and no, I cannot simply read elsewhere. The shade is just right under this tree and I rather like overlooking the pond between my chapters.”
“Shame I got here first, then,” Anthony clicked.
“You…!” (Y/N) scoffed, fighting every urge in her body to stomp her foot. “You are an impossible man, surely you know that?”
“I thought you said I was no man?” Anthony’s brow quirked. “Or perhaps I misheard?”
She scowled. “You are not amusing.”
“On the contrary,” Anthony leaned back on the bench, stretching his arms and taking his claim. “I find myself very amusing.”
A duck quacked from the pond, either laughing at the viscount or agreeing with him—it was hard to tell. 
“You leave me no choice,” (Y/N) said sternly, taking a seat on the other end of the bench—feeling worlds apart from the man on the far side. In actuality, it couldn’t have been more than two feet, three at most.
“Truly?” Anthony laughed humorlessly. “You cannot be serious.”
“Hush,” (Y/N) said, opening her book in earnest. “I am trying to read.”
While there had been no guns drawn, this was a duel, in every sense of the word. Both parties sitting still as statues, Anthony’s gaze trained on the pond, (Y/N)’s on her book. Occasionally, she’d flip her page to the next, huffing every time Anthony still did not get up and move on. 
Stubborn. Both of them.
“Will you be quiet?” Anthony said, growing exasperated. “I cannot think when you are breathing so loud—” 
“You wish for me not to breathe?” She shut her book. “I never anticipated you’d wish me dead—”
“Please,” Anthony said. “You know that is not what I mean at all.”
“I never know with you. You, Anthony Bridgerton, are an enigma and I hope I never have the pleasure of truly understanding you,” (Y/N) said, fingers whiting from her grip on her book.
“So you admit it would be pleasurable?”
She wanted to wipe that grin off of his face, how, she was unsure. Idly, she thought about how a good smack to his cheek would feel. Painful in the moment but oh-so wonderful after, cathartic, probably. “I am not getting up.”
“Neither am I.”
“I am willing to die on this bench,” (Y/N) spat.
“Funnily enough,” Anthony’s voice dropped, “so am I.”
“How are you to find your viscountess on this bench?” She asked, angling her body towards the torturous man. “Surely you do not expect her to just walk past?”
“I am sure I can manage,” Anthony said calmly. “Many young ladies will walk this way when they see me sitting here."
“Even with another woman sitting beside you?”
“I rather think they’ll find you easy to ignore, I know I do.”
“Ha! You are truly something else, Lord Bridgerton,” (Y/N) sat straighter. “Insulting a polite woman in public?”
“You are the furthest thing from polite,” Anthony leaned in. “Rude, ostentatious, quite full of herself—”
“Might I offer you a mirror?” The grip on her book tightened, cover bending from the force. “Or are you afraid you’ll see horns?”
“Oh, do they match yours?” He nearly sang. 
“Funny,” she clicked, finally setting her book down, lacing her fingers together in her lap. “You should run a comedy act at the circus, seeing as you are a right clown.”
Anthony stood up, whether by the force of his breath or sheer spite he will never know. “You are the most ridiculous woman I have ever met.”
(Y/N) met his height, now standing as well. “And you are the most irritating man I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing.”
“I am going to walk this way,” Anthony said, forcefully pointing to his right, eyes not leaving hers. She did have the most remarkable eyes.
“And I will walk this way,” she pointed to her left, less force in her action but seething all the same. “Have the day you deserve, Lord Bridgerton.”
“Why you little…!”
She had already turned and stomped away, a fuming smudge of pink against the greenery of the park, growing further away with every step.
“What a wretched woman,” he mumbled, looking down at his watch again—nine on-the-dot. In the corner of his eye, something bright red caught his attention. Her book. She had left it behind.
Perhaps he would burn it.
Perhaps he would just put it in his pocket and carry about his day.
In the pocket it went. For now.
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