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azrielhours · 8 months

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Company of Phantoms

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 2k

Synopsis: Azriel has a crush that's overtaking his life. He's so obsessed with her that he starts hallucinating her lol.

A/N: inspired partly by The Haunting of Hill House and this

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Azriel sat and watched, thanked the Mother for all his training for the privilege it allowed him to take her in. Hell—if all the knowledge he possessed peaked and surrendered to this, the holy act of observing her, if this was all it was good for, Azriel would be content. He even felt lighter about the horrors of his past, felt an absolved ease knowing it all would end with this act of penitence. An arm’s-length indulgence.

With her.

But she was starlight, an ectoplasmic celestial body that glowed. She smiled so big and bright it made his breath catch. He’d have to look away sometimes to relieve the ache she carved into his chest.

If she shone any less, it would be an act of mercy.

But Azriel had always veered on the side of masochism.

He was afraid his darkness would make her wink out. Didn’t want to be the cause of her dimming. Would never dream of contaminating that joy. Even when she’d smile at him, even when he’d struggle to return it, left instead with the sight of hers faltering at his coldness.

He could stand the shame sluicing through his chest cavity, take the sting of hurt all for the assurance he’d insist to himself—that this was the noble thing.

Everyone adored her, and it was what she deserved. The foul-mouthed temptress she was, making males redden at the dirty jokes she told, laughing bright and beautiful. The empathy she dealt like medicine that drew friends to her like a siren luring sailors. Secret keeper. Rhys doted on her, bought her jewelry to watch her face light up. Azriel never missed how his brother’s face would crinkle with adoration, with the ease of loving her when she opened his stream of gifts.

She was easy to love.

It was like she was slotted just right to each person.

He often wondered how she would mould to him should he ever open up, to return her generous smiles that had begun growing seldom.

She was soft with Feyre, creative and adventurous. Often found up to various artistic schemes no one else understood, discussing motifs and strokes, tragedy and yearning. Gone for hours to emerge with bright eyes and paint smears.

She cried to Cassian, and it was an effort to reign in Azriel’s envy, to listen to the drowning voice of reason telling him to be glad she was being comforted rather than to rage at his thieving brother as he’d stroke away her tears with gentler hands than those dealt to him in his life. She’d lie next to Nesta on her heavier days. Read to her, talk about foreshadowing and hope that made Nesta’s eyes light up.

It was always light brought to others. Her contagious aura.

And damn him, it was like his youth all over again, watching his brothers care for Mor, watching how she fit seamlessly.

How she chose Cassian. Never him. How she cried to Rhys, never him.

It seemed Azriel would always be haunted by the ghosts of his past.

And damn him for still possessing that otherness that punctured holes in his chest then, the same holes now that made it impossible to heave in a full breath, to sleep soundly. An undead soldier. It’d been weeks of this incessant torment. His heart would palpitate til his body perceived a threat. No sleep in the night—thoughts of her haunted him, taunting—so he’d pace like a lingering spirit.

He could see her always.

In the dark quiet of the house, there’d be a flash of silk around corners. Someone tossing hair over a shoulder. The echo of a laugh in another hallway. He’d creep to it, try to spy it out only to be met with empty corners.

Yet there in his peripherals, at the ends of hallways in the dark—

Again and again—glimpses.

His ghost.

His bed had become a grave, no peace found in it to rest. No food for the dead, only scraps—libations offered into the fire that was his belly. In the fleeting moments of rest, oftentimes in armchairs in all the wrong rooms, he’d meet her. She glowed even there, that phantom halo that marked a ghost. A beacon of light to his shadowy storm. She’d hold his hands and love him. And when he’d fade back to consciousness, in the early morning hours, if he sat still long enough, he knew he would hear her murmurs echoing down the halls.

Azriel wanted with all his might, wanted like it was his purpose.

Wanted like it could possibly mean something. Do something.

Wanting was all Azriel knew.

Beneath his shadows, beneath the contained lethal capacity of his body, any semblance of sanity, beneath ancient bone and immortal rot, he wondered if his soul was made purely of desire.

It made sense then, he supposed, that if he was wanting at his basest self, he would dream about nothing more than to have the unattainable. A ghost.

A wish.

It was impossible to eat. Sleeplessness stole his appetite. He consumed coffee in the morning and drank on an empty stomach in the evening. Nesta saw—she knew, pressing fruit and bread in his hand sometimes, but mostly she was quiet, which Azriel thanked her for in equal silence.

Tell her, Az, she whispered once. He’d shaken his head, and that was that.

Sometimes when everyone was home, he could pretend like it didn’t exist, the pull to her. He’d try to relax in his flesh and participate in having a family, but then she’d walk into the room, having just come home from somewhere Azriel knew every detail about.

The effort to not stare, to not care nor assess, to calm his heart, his mind—the shift out of the state of pretended calmness to an even worse pretence of calmness—the stream of thoughts that would pummel his brain would jolt so violently, the wanting was so violent that Feyre would flinch.

He couldn’t stand it—the lying. He knew everyone was doing it. Pretending they didn’t see what haunted him. At the first damned prod of a dark talon at his mind, Azriel stood, leaving. Ignoring how she peered at him with a pinch between her brows, stepping out of the path.

Azriel exhaled, watched his breath curl in the cool night air. Closed his eyes in exasperation as he heard footsteps approaching on the balcony. Whatever wise words Rhys may attempt to offer could be shoved up—

“Azriel,” Feyre spoke gently.

He turned, taking in his High Lady. “Feyre, I don’t really—”

“Az,” she cut him off, “I—don’t mean to pry. But you’re not—” she exhaled. “I know you haven’t been eating, and Rhys says—”

“It’s fine, Feyre,” he said softly. It was his own fault for not reigning in his thoughts. He wondered how much more he’d been broadcasting in his state, made clumsy by restlessness. If Feyre knew of the glimpses he trailed after at night—the ghost chasing.

She frowned, concern swimming in her eyes. Insomnia can cause hallucinations, she spoke gently into his mind.

Azriel scoffed. “I’m not hallucinating.”

Feyre stepped closer, caressing his elbow. “You know, if you’d just talk to her—”

“I can’t.”

She paused for a beat. “I can help put you to sleep, if you want.”

He just shook his head. Feyre accepted his boundary, leaving him to linger in his purgatory. He stayed, breathing in the cold until things quieted in the house.

Re-entering the emptied lounge, he sat, meeting wakefulness like a reluctant ally. His shadows curled at his cold ears. In her room, they informed. Saying goodnight.

Azriel listened to the sounds of his family settling in. He closed his eyes, envisioned how she might look, if she was perhaps brushing her hair, how she might look in the dim glow of a faelight. Settled and safe. Or—even better, he imagined her coming down, seeking him out. How lovely she’d look descending the stairs. If he focused hard enough, he could make out the sound—

Azriel opened his eyes, awaiting the gentle creak of wood.

His heart skipped a beat. Was she indeed coming to him?

He rose, quietly making his way to the stairs, wanting to see her descend to him.

Her steps were growing closer, and Azriel peered up the darkened stairwell—

She must’ve turned around, but Azriel caught the glow of an aura at the top, around the corner.

He made his way up, listening with all his might.

There—the rustle of silk. He sent his shadows ahead in the dark, not wanting to frighten her.

Clear, they whispered. He stalked down the hall, turning corners, walking past the low chatter behind various bedroom doors. He was nearly at the end of the hall when—

At her door, a shadow curled at his ear. Azriel frowned, if she was at her door, how could she—

A soft feminine laugh made him turn. Nothing, but he was sure—

There was that silk again, trailing around a corner.

Azriel blinked, making his way over. She was looking for him, he was certain.

More pacing around the darkened halls, trying to catch sight of that silk again.

Azriel.

He froze.

She’d called him.

A few walls over, he could recognize that voice. He whipped his head in the direction, creeping over.

Nothing.

Azriel.

There—again, he turned the other direction, blindly following.

Azriel.

He walked faster, his shadows swarming all around his body and up the walls, trying to catch his name.

Azriel.

“Azriel?”

He jolted, turning to the source.

Y/N stood in her doorway directly to his side, making him halt in his tracking. She took in the agitated churning of his shadows, burying him in darkness.

She was—there she was.

Azriel took a step toward her. She’d called him.

“Y/N,” he breathed.

She looked up at him wide-eyed. “Are you—alright?”

He assessed her. She—how could she be here so quickly, if he’d seen—

He looked around the hall, trying to make it make sense. He frowned, turning back to her. She was partially behind the threshold of the door, apprehension tensing her form under his scrutiny, the restlessness marking darkness beneath his eyes.

He was making her nervous.

Azriel immediately reigned in his shadows, relaxing his stance to a neutral posture rather than his previous mid-prowl stride, tucking his hands behind his back.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke gently. “I thought I…did I wake you?”

She shook her head, stepping more fully in the doorway, making Azriel relax. “No, I—your shadows were under my door, and when I came to them, I could hear…someone wandering outside.”

Azriel blinked. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

She bit her lip, assessing him. “It’s alright. Why were you pacing?”

“I, uh—I couldn’t sleep.”

She nodded. “I heard Rhys tell Feyre you’ve been having trouble sleeping,” she said quietly.

Azriel’s shoulders slumped, his head dipped in confirmation.

She nodded again in thought, peering up at him again with that wonder. Azriel should’ve taken Feyre up on her offer, should’ve known better. He should apologize again and stop bothering her— “Would you, um, like to come in?”

Azriel’s breath caught.

She shifted her weight. “If—if you can’t sleep, I mean—I’m awake, and—”

“Yes,” he said.

Surprise lit up her eyes despite her offer, and she nodded and stepped aside to let him in.

Azriel’s heart was in his throat. His sleep-deprived state blurred the edges of his reserve, but he allowed himself to take the opportunity.

In her room, he took in the warm space. She closed the door behind him and came to stand beside him. She was indeed in a nightgown, hair unbound, glowing as usual. He averted his gaze when she blushed beneath his stare.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I haven’t had much rest lately.”

“That’s okay,” she said, stepping closer. “I know, I—usually I can hear you pacing at night,” she confessed. He hadn’t realized he’d been that overt. She beckoned him to walk to her bed, perching at the end of it. She smiled, gently patting the space next to her.

Azriel swallowed, making his way to her.

She looked to her bed and back at the Spymaster. “I, uh—you do look tired, Azriel.”

“Do I?” he was pleasantly surprised to find contentment in her space—in her presence. The longest he’d ever spoken to her, and it turned out to be easier than breathing.

“Mhm,” she nodded, taking him in. She raised a hand to his face, tracing the bruises beneath his eyes with gentle fingertips. “Poor thing,” she breathed, frowning. “I know how hard it can be to have insomnia.”

She lowered her hand, clasping them in her lap. She looked to the pillows again, then back to him. Azriel resisted the upward tug of his lips, seeing how long it would take her to invite him to sleep.

How careless did sleeplessness make him, indeed.

He simply nodded. “It is hard.”

“It helps if you feel someone,” she spoke softly, blushing. “I sometimes sleep with one of the girls.”

Azriel hummed in thought.

“Or—you know, we can get you a sleeping tonic.”

“We could try that.”

She suddenly averted his gaze, crossing her arms across her abdomen. In a small voice, she said, “I know you don’t—like me, Azriel, but—”

He frowned. “I do like you,” he interjected.

She paused, meeting his gaze. “You do?” The vulnerability swimming in her eyes made him shift closer to her on the bed.

“I do.” He thanked the Mother for the inhibition of his judgement.

She was silent for a beat. “But—you leave the rooms I enter,” she said in that small voice.

Azriel’s heart broke. He dared to reach a hand out, gently taking hers. “It’s—it’s because I like you,” he said lowly.

Her mouth parted in an o shape, and she squeezed his hand, a small smile overtaking her lovely face.

“You were my ghost,” he muttered.

Confusion drew her brows together. “What?”

Azriel smiled, a laziness creeping up his body that he’d missed for weeks. “I’ll explain it in the morning.”

Her brows shot up, pink tinting her cheeks. “In the morning?” Another glance to the bed.

Azriel laughed. “Unless you want to hear it now.”

She smiled, tentative and sweet, shaking her head. “The morning will do.” She rose, taking his hands in both of hers, prompting him to rise. He held her stare, let her pull him to the head of her bed. She tugged back the covers, sliding under and patting the space next to her again.

Azriel toed off his shoes, took off his outermost layers, placing his belt and various assets onto her dresser. She pulled her knees to her chest, watching intently as he offloaded in her space, basking in the belonging.

When he at last slid beneath the cover, he lay on his back next to her. She reached for his hand beneath the covers, clasping it. Without saying a word, he squeezed her hand. He felt the tension seep out of his body, felt heaviness in his eyelids that matched the one in his chest. She shuffled closer to him so they lay shoulder to shoulder. He didn’t dare move, let her settle against his arm, still only holding his hand under the covers.

As rest crept up on him for the first time in weeks, his restless thoughts were calmed by the warmth of her presence, the kindness he allowed himself to finally taste.

“You know,” she muttered in the dark. “With all your pacing, I was beginning to wonder if this place was haunted.”

Azriel huffed out a laugh. “Imagine that.”

He could hear the smile on her lips. “Guess it was just our sneaky Shadowsinger.”

Azriel shook his head, smiling. “Guess so.”

She turned, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight Azriel.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

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#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfiction #azriel/reader #azriel fanfic #azrielhours #acotar fanfiction #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel fluff

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theundeadsnake · 1 year

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can we get zalgo with an s/o that loves to push his buttons

Hello, I hope you enjoy this. I will write a follow-up post about what would happen to a pet he was toying with, or a SO that didn't learn. I assume you read my previous post about him, and thus know that I consider him an evil, cruel entity. TW: Unhealthy relationships, controlling lover, physical abuse mentioned (spanking), master/pet implied, possible greater danger, dominance, material deprivation, swear word (f...ing)

Be warned for this is a very risky game to play.

If you’re reading this, you’re very lucky to be his valued lover or at the very least a pet he cares about enough to keep around.

How do I know this? How can I be certain about your position when there are so many different roles a “significant other” could play? The answer is much simpler than some may imagine. Zalgo is a being that does not take disrespect. At the same time, he does not put so much “significance” to the label of SO as he loved toying with mortals. Fooling a mortal into thinking themselves to be special, letting them start to get cocky, and punishing them for their misbehavior is something this Demon Lord calls a hobby.

Now, he typically does not fool mortals into thinking they can be his lovers. Instead, he loves to make them feel bold and powerful – rich beyond all human means for a price that would even make the Gods shiver. But let’s not get off the train track, at least not for now.

Back on topic – how would Zalgo be with a Signiant other that pushes his buttons? As mentioned before there are layers to a relationship you could have with him.

If you’re his lover, someone he truly cared about you will get to keep living. Though this behavior of yours will not be tolerated. A lover will experience lighter punishments. All intended to show that he always gets his way.

This would include mocking you, forcing you into humiliating situations, or simply reminding you of how strong and powerful he is compared to you. Yes, the latter will hurt. Either way, if Zalgo is in love with you, he will first stick with responses he considers to be “soft”. He wants to scare you. He needs you to remember your place, but he does not want that disobedience to disappear.

Nor does he want to break you.

It is a very lovely opportunity for him to mold you.

At the same time, it does show that you have a certain level of comfort that is to his liking.

Hopefully, you will begin behaving in a proper manner. Mostly obedient. Some rare misbehavior would be acceptable.

On the other hand, if you keep up with it, or get more passionate about being naughty you will be in trouble. You will start losing your privileges – clothes, food, and daily comforts. Naughty ones don’t get to be treated like royalty.

He knows that he has to educate his lovers in a sense and assert his dominance and control. He expects you to play along like his little adorable cutie. And yet here you are, being such a fucking brat.

Try pulling anything around his underlings, and he will ensure you’re neither able to stand nor sit. That bottom of yours will get the harshest spanking imaginable. He has an image to uphold.

And while yes, he is willing to be “softer” with you in private, and while he certainly does treat you will a lot more care than he would to a toy, he still expects himself to be the big bad wolf, while you’re his good scared cute bunny.

Zalgo will never go all the way with his punishments if you are his lover. Hopefully, you will learn quickly to limit that button-pushing behavior. Stick to that sweet spot of being his good little lover 95% of the time, and a naughty but adorable brat for that final 5% and he might even start letting you get away with it

Especially if you claim it was to get his attention and because you want to get punished, that will spark a lot of passion in this one. Though, it may not be in the way you would like.

Keep at it, get worse, and refuse to learn and he might lose that love. In which case, you’re in danger.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta x reader #request #creepypasta zalgo #zalgo x reader #zalgo creepypasta #zalgo headcanons #zalgo

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2lim3rz · 1 year

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FILLED LIKE A TAX RETURN (Roboute Gulliman X Female Reader) (NSFW)

So, like, I was going to only make this a list of headcanons because you thirsty gremlins wanted Yearning Gulliman but the more I brainstormed about it, the more this ended up as a Post-Heresy Gulliman instead of Pre-Heresy as planned

Listen, all I'm saying is that Post-Heresy Gulliman needs some outlet for stress. Congrats! You're that outlet! Now ignore the suspicious amount of information he knows about you!!

Also yeah this ended up much longer than I though

You were always something that lurked in the background. A nobody even amongst nobodies. An errand runner on better days, someone who made sure the pipes in your 'room' didn't leak on other days. Yet there were benefits to being no one. The prime of those being you were closer to things that many in the galaxy killed to have a privilege of even beholding.

And yours was Roboute Gulliman; the Avenging Son, the Azure Angel. Your personal title towards him was 'The Most Terrifying Being to Exist'. Shortly before his rise, you had only been vaguely near the Ultramarines.. which in of themselves froze you in your tracks. Made you feel smaller than ever before. Made you feel made of glass.

Yet the Primarch himself? Stole your breath away. Made something deep within you rush away or freeze entirely to only sob at the magnificent fear of him. The absolute terror that his word was life or death. Still, you were in the shadows. Divine coincidence or simply conflicting events sending you both opposite ways any time you came barely close to each other.

Until your errand was to take something to him. At first you began to simply leave it outside the doors, but that was unsafe. And when the guards in the front (equally terrifying and obscenely huge.. though that could have been your cowardly slouch) of the doors allowed you passage.. no one was luckily in the grandiose (yet.. simple? dare you thought) office.

In fact, you had just sat down the package upon the desk when you heard heavy steps; your heart plummeted as you turned around.. and there he was. Looming leagues above you and staring at you with.. a conflicting expression?

His eyebrows went from aggravated-but-neutral to furrowed. His mouth twisting as though he ate a bitter fruit. Suddenly his regal posture soured even as he stood stiffly. You remained where you where because what else were you supposed to do? You were a rat caught in daylight. Everything in you screamed insignificance to the voice of the Imperium and yet-

"Get out." his voice was terse, for a moment all you did was quiver violently before throwing yourself forward hard enough you simply floundered and fell. Scraping your elbows and knees upon the flooring, scrabbling with your hands, and finally scrambling away.

You were ignorant to how he turned and stared at you. Yet you still knew in your gut that he was doing.. something.

After that single experience of the Primarch seeing you for the first time, you were very content with that being the last. Perfectly content and yet after two days had passed, your supervisor all but had you dragged to his office where two Ultramarines stood. Only one, shorter than the other by a whole foot and yet still towering over you, had his helmet off. He held it under one arm, at his side was a massive gun you'd personally label as a hand-held heavy bolter. His face.. was as handsome as it was uncanny. As if Roboute Gulliman himself suddenly sprouted borderline-brown hair and had green eyes.

"Ah, you've finally arrived," his voice was lighter than you initially thought and you felt dread heavy in your gut as he said your name "Lord Gulliman has requested-"

The rest of his words were nonsense noise as you stared at him.

Gulliman requested you.

Roboute fucking Gulliman had requested for you.

You didn't even realize they were escorting you out until a ceramite coated hand was nudging your shoulder and you were limping forward with them. Thanking the fact that your blessing of adrenaline had given you the ability to walk more-or-less normally.

Your mind wandered the entire walk, even when it began to click in your mind that the two space marines weren't going to let you have a break. Were you to be executed? No, they'd have done that already. What if was something worse though? What if-what if-what if- what if?!

By the time to arrived to that damned office (clearly this was meant to be a private affair) you were shaking in your boots and choking back gross sobs. It didn't stop the tears and the wild eyed panicked stare you gave everything. All you knew was that you didn't want to die.

..You swore the moment you stepped into the office, that his face grew darker. Instantly drawing all over your body as if seeking something before turning the daggers towards his Ultramarines. One of his large hands was a coiled fist. You'd have searched for more details but truthfully, you were beginning to bawl uncontrollably and gibber out pleads for your life.

"Get out. Close the doors and guard them. As for you, silence your crying."

His voice was directed at you, powerful and shuddering into your core. Trembling where you stood (borderline squatting on the floor in fact) you stared up and frantically tried to swipe the tears away. Watching in terrified silence as he stood and, you swore personally, prowled towards you.

Looming above you, a giant statue of perfection contrasting to your meek and pitiful mortal frame. When he raised his hand, you flinched. He could squish you like one squashed a fly. No pain nor death greeted you.. instead his warm hand gingerly touched your chin. Almost as if he was afraid of breaking something delicate.. and he tilted your head upwards.

"When did you get those wounds,?" It only made sense he knew your name, but you shivered again. Staring wordlessly into his enchanting blue eyes. They were mystifying as much as they were studious. "...When.. you.. when you told me to get out.." your whispered voice cracked.

Please let go. Please do something! Your mental voice whined. You just wanted to curl up on the transit tracks and perish forever, a number amongst untold many.

"Hm." was his only response as he tilted your head this way and that.

Which was about the same time the questions began. Simple ones like family and friends. To.. odder ones. Had strangers given you food? (The cafeterium was full of strangers.) Had you been near people of oddities? (You had two legal mutants in your work sector but no) All the way down to more personal specifics such as how many times did you sit down yesterday (Which you couldn't answer because you were reeling over Gulliman even looking at you.)

Finally, Gulliman let go of your head and turned away. Pacing in front of his desk after picking up a notebook and pen (how archaic and expensive!). A tense animal is what he was as he occasionally glanced your way, scribbling notes upon notes. You decided to test the waters.

"May.. I.. go.. my lord?" at once he froze. Staring down upon you. Gritting his jaw and flaring his nostrils. There was something conflicting in that gaze of his.

"You may. Gorerus, Sullo, lead my personal guest to her new chambers."

Opening the doors, a bit hesitantly you supposed, the two space marines from earlier stood and clearly waited when it dawned on you. Turning about, it was your turn to furrow your eyebrows and stare.

"..Chambers..? My-" you stopped as those icy eyes- no.. they weren't cold in the slightest. They were very much the opposite, burning and.. not glaring but that was the only word you had to describe how fiery he stared at you.

You felt a strange feeling in your stomach. Wiggling and squirming and all warm all over. In that instant you swore you saw the primarch before you do a doubletake before waving a dismissive hand.

"Gorerus and Sullo will bring you tomorrow morning. Be ready by then."

You relented then, taking stumbling step after stumbling step. The two space marines weren't leading you at a grueling pace but at yours. Feeling awkward about the odd dynamics at play, you sped yours up.. if only to get away from..Gorus and Sully??

"So.. Gor..Gory-" you were looking at the taller of the two when the borderline-Roboute clone cleared his through, giving you an awkward look. "Maevius Gorerus." he at once interrupted "Continue on-" "If I may introduce myself as well, I am Casmaius Sullo. And if your questions relate to your.. sudden promotion and interest of our Lord Regent, Roboute Gulliman, then we do not have answers." as Casmaius spoke, you gave a smile that certainly indicated your impending breakdown to the harsh glare Maevius gave to his taller counterpart. Great. You were in between two space marines that clearly had not-so-good comradery with each other.

Abruptly, they would stop in front of a pair of doors, causing you to backstep a few times and stare. Of course they were elaborately gilded in gold but.. no.. surely these weren't yours.. You gave a fearful look to your.. guardians? Overseers? The only response you had gotten was an annoyed grumble from Casmaius and.. a look of pity from Maevius?

Maevius gently opened one of the doors for you, remaining outside and closing it behind you. Considering you heard absolutely no retreating loud footsteps from the armored duo.. you knew they stood guard at the doors.

So you indulged yourself. Exploring the massive rooms that qualified as your temporary home-away-from-home. Of course the first thing you took advantage of was the bathroom and the whole pool-sized bathtub. All your life you had only taken the shortest and brutally cold of showers but.. this?

It was overwhelming. The choices of soaps and all that. You could almost enjoy being.. a weird prisoner or whatever you were. You didn't even have to care about putting on your grimy sweat-stained clothes. There were already some there! It wouldn't have concerned you at all if they didn't fit right, they were clean! And smelled good and-

You stood. Staring into a massive mirror at how.. just right it fitted on you. It was terrifying. As if someone got all of your measurements while you slept.. Or was a massive superhuman that could know anything from a single look.

You did your best to ignore your unease as you worked your way around the room, staring with wide eyes as a servant did as you normally would for a prestigious guest.. albeit more in the background.

You were served food. Past the open doors, you could see the two Ultramarines standing guard. You wanted answers you wouldn't be given so you relented to enjoying your last night, you supposed it was anyhow. And completely pigged out. Stuffing yourself with foods that made you moan from how good it was. The most savory of sweet things and utterly delicious meats.

After all that, you finally slept.. and woke up to loud knocking at a time that was definitely before you'd ever wake up.. and before the sun even rose. So.. it wasn't morning as in regular people time.. but morning as in Gulliman time. Oh well, you could handle it as much as you floundered and settled on a sort of odd blue and gold dress.. in fact all of the outfits were dresses compared to your favored (and only) jumpsuit uniforms. And while you felt pretty looking at yourself in the mirror.. you felt like a fraud and..

Weird. Very weird.

At least until Casmaius stepped in and announced that it was time to leave. Your initial unease and fear resurfaced as you stepped between them and were lead to the office once again. Forced to grip the fabric of the swishy dress around you in your hands to avoid tripping.

Stepping into his office was.. a whole other rodeo though. The moment you beheld him and he beheld you.. the Roboute Gulliman's face was redder than blood before he looked away and cleared his throat. You chose the smart option of remaining silent.

Even if it was hard to remain that way given how he wasn't wearing his usual armor. In fact, it was some sort of shimmery elaborately embroidered cloth that draped over him. It wasn't like the suits or other outfits you had seen many wear, but more.. one-piece and blanket like? You could only guess that it was native-wear. You knew of some foreign workers that liked to wear their planet's native dress on off time and the (extremely rare) holiday time off.

Neither of you spoke for what felt to be eons. You only shook where you stood and watched his large finger go tap-tap-tap on the desk covered in books, dataslates, and files of all sorts, a good chunk of them appearing to be reports of tithes and planetary taxation.

"Why are you afraid of me?" finally he broke the ice and you were left confused. Flabbergasted even as he asked you why you were.. scared of him? It felt like a trap. It must be a trap. "You're.. the Lord Commander?" it felt obvious. Who wouldn't be afraid of the power he held? "I don't.. want to lose my post or-or die because I did something wrong, my lord- Am I in trouble?"

The words trembled out of you before you could stop them. Staring down at you.. he stood. You hated the conflicting feelings you had since the day before. As if something within you was forcing you to notice things you wouldn't. The rippling muscles of his arms and chest as he simply stood. The way you knew those arms could turn you into paste, yet you knew the infinite gentleness they could have..

Once again Gulliman was frozen in his tracks. You heard the desk's wood fibers groan momentarily as he gripped it. His body gave a single tremble before he abruptly straightened and stood in front of you; looming and ominous. "What do you feel in this moment?"

What..?

Stunned, you blinked up at the Primarch as he waited patiently. Suddenly forced to acknowledge how much you warred within yourself. "I.. feel.. afraid. And confused...my lord" And confusingly warm all over and in areas you'd rather not. As if the treacherous thought was insistent of beating you, you felt your face grow warm and the temptation to look at the ground.

You wished he wasn't so tall. It was making a conversation (one sided as it was) very awkward. Once more as you felt your body go flush, you saw that predatory look in his eyes. The flare of his nose and stiff stance when it dawned on you.

Was.. he.. able to smell you?

The horrified pit in your stomach was confirmed as he brought a hand up to clear his throat into when he turned away. No! Surely the red face he had was from something else! The Roboute Gulliman before you couldn't- You were insignificant! A no one! A nothing! A lowly worker beneath-

His gentle hands, worn from eons of working and fighting touched your chin once more as he lowered himself. You didn't realize you were shaking until you felt your breathing hitched.

What the fuck? What the fuck, what the fuck, what the absolute Emperor-Blessed fuck?!

Your thoughts barked and bayed in the cacophony of chaos that was your mind as you felt his lips brush yours. You were stunned, shocked, absolutely decimated as you stared dimly back at him. You swore you felt his hand tremble.

"You may call me Roboute instead." his voice was low, patiently gauging your reaction. Testing the waters as it were. "Am.. I.. in trouble?" you knew of cruel lords, surely the glowing jewel of the galaxy wasn't one of them- Your mind short-circuited as his thumb brushed your cheek. "No. There are very few ways you would be in trouble in this moment." those words weren't so comforting when you saw how clearly conflicted he was. What was going on? You weren't being told something but thinking was hard to do with how suddenly intimate this had gotten.

"Roboute.." Suddenly going fuck it was appealing. If you were on impending death-row you figured you may as well go out with a bang. Raising a hesitating hand, you placed it over Gulliman- Roboute's hand and paused before you leaned into it. Testing the waters slowly as he watched you.. as though he wanted to see what you would do next.

You kissed him. Not some short peck as he had done, but a full proper kiss. With a squeak of surprise, he immediately pulled you in closer turning your show of bravado into a dominating display in a kiss that lasted forever in the most pleasant way. His invading tongue was the sweetest part of it all. Washing your worries away in an instant as he devoured you.

The moment he pulled away? It was as if you flipped a switch, or more properly, unleashed a monster upon yourself. His lips drawing from your face to your exposed throat. His hands groping for your body through the dress, and while you felt nervous, at the same time you were curious.

So.. so horribly curious to see what this regal man would do to you. Squealing as he settled on ripping the dress from you. Your hands felt for his own clothes, though the word 'stop' began on your lips (even if you swore they were already bruised). That one word, that single word you prayed would put some sort of pause was torn away in a squeal as he hoisted you into the air. Pressing your back against the cold wall and kissed your breast. Giving each side of you small kisses before scraping his teeth over your nipples.

Your back arched, you wiggled in his hold and choked out a moan. You had expected anything except the way his eager mouth went lower and lower and- On instinct your hands went to his hair. Gripping him roughly as you tried to squeeze your spread thighs. He so easily held you, not a single quiver except for excitement.

And that groan.. that groan he gave as he tasted- no- truly devoured you. Learning all of your sweet spots in seconds and absolutely abusing them. And how much you whined as soon as his tongue left you.. and how much you moaned right after as soon as his finger began to take its place. Thick in all the right ways and absolutely too much as his tongue circled your clit.

You hadn't even realize you were violently coming on the primarch's masterful mouth until you felt his satisfied noise. You only wished he stopped, even just a moment as his finger thrusted into you. Squirming upon him as you felt yourself stretching more when he added another. Arching back and gritting your teeth with a long groan. The way you bucked your hips for more.

"Rob-Roboute, please- Oh- oh it's too much- It's all-" "Good." his breath was hot and yet blisteringly cold against your wet heat. The world was a dizzying blur as he drove you to your brink. Until you were struggling to push away his head because if he had to make you come undone a second (or was it third?) time, you'd be left sobbing. Even if you so conflictingly began wailing his name.

And so blessedly.. he did. Pulling away and his fingers leaving you. Forcing a needy whimper from you even though your eyes were beginning to tear up. Why, why did you feel so.. yearning and empty? Gazing into those beautiful blue eyes that threatened to consume you further.

Your breathing was a heavy pant as you watch him lick his lips. How he raised the fingers that were previously pushing all your buttons in the best of ways to his mouth.. and sucked on them. Refusing for you to break eye contact the whole while. Only to be lowered and consumed once again in a ravishing kiss. Digging your fingers into his hair and on his neck. Tasting the mixed flavors of his saliva and your own wetness on his lips.

Abruptly, he pulled himself away and gently lowered you. Pulling one of the outer wrappings from around himself to drape them around you. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and.. looking ashamed?

"Pardon.. me.." he hesitated. Staring away from you before turning away completely "We will discuss matters.. at a later time when my head is calmer."

What was wrong? He seemed more than overjoyed to be ripping your dress off and devouring you just seconds ago and now he suddenly wanted to be formal?

Disappointment and hurt were blatant on your face as you wrapped the too-big fabric around you tighter and stumbled to the doors. Looking over your shoulder as Gulliman flipped through some pages on that notebook from earlier.

And very much ignoring the suspicious gaze of Sullo.. and the more concerned eyebrow raise of uncanny Gorerus as they escorted you back to the opulent chambers that you supposed was your temporary home.

You were only relieved you could soak in those hot waters for as long as you wanted after all of that.

#volatile hearts au #VHA #roboute gulliman x reader #roboute gulliman #OC #because sullo + gorerus are my SONS #warhammer 40k #x reader #definitely will be a part 2 i swear

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puffpasstea · 2 years

Text

A/N: A little fluffy, smutty one-shot I fell asleep before I could post last night.

warnings: Fluff, smut

----

She set her book down across her legs and glanced around the room, taking the moment in. She’d been sitting horizontally in Harry’s lap, reading her book while Harry watched the John Lennon-Yoko Ono documentary, Above Us Only Sky. She knew him well enough to know that this was a comfort thing. It’s what he likes to watch when burnt out and looking for inspiration. Not that she needed the documentary to clue her in on his current mental state. Harry had been working around the clock lately. The scheduling gods had made it so his tv appearances, performances, film press, and label meetings were all happening around the same time. Though he never complained, she knew it was starting to take its toll on him.

It took a few arguments early on in their relationship for her to realize that Harry tends to bottle up his stress instead of talking about it. In his mind, he’s hugely lucky and privileged to even have the job that he does and to be able to do this for a living, so he couldn’t help but feel guilty for complaining. But if his tired, sleep-deprived eyes weren’t enough to indicate how overwhelmed Harry has been, then his behavior still would’ve given him away. For instance, even as she was sitting in his lap right now, doing separate things, with Harry’s eyes on the TV while hers focused on her book, she still felt his thumb brushing up and down her thigh the whole time. In fact, she’d been sitting on the other end of the couch before Harry came home and demanded that she come closer, eventually putting her on top of him. Those were tell-tale signs of stress for him. His usually large, dominant personality always seemed to shrink and crumble whenever he was emotional. The downside of it is that his confidence and faith in himself would sometimes waver as a result, and she hated seeing him doubt his talents and abilities more than anything. But, on the upside, this usually made him softer, more toucy, more inclined to lean on her and look to her for support and comfort. She relished the opportunity to provide him with all the love in the world.

With her eyes now turning from the words on the page that had kept her busy to Harry’s face, it occurred to her that they were practically glued together. His face was an inch away. She scanned his features as he watched the tv. Though Harry didn’t flinch, he seemed aware of her intense gaze as his cheeks slowly grew red and a smile took over his lips. This seemed to spark an idea in her head. She wasted no time in attaching her lips to his neck and kissing him. Harry jolted in surprise at her sudden movements, and, within moments, she was fully straddling him, kissing his face and lips, as he whimpered and bucked his hips to get his crotch closer to hers.

She smiled against his lips, “someone’s in a hurry…”

“P-please? Can we?”

She leaned closer and whispered in his ear, her breath fanning over the back of his neck and giving him goosebumps, “patience, pretty boy.” He could practically hear the smirk in her voice.

Harry whined as she slowly moved her legs over and got up off his lap. He felt lighter without her body on top of his, like he might float away without her grounding presence. He did not like this feeling one bit.

She held her hand out to him and helped him off the couch. “Let’s move this party upstairs.”

Before going up to their bedroom, they wandered around the house, blowing out all the candles that she’d lit after cleaning earlier in the day. Harry, clingy as he was, followed on her heels, occasionally messing with her by grabbing her waist, tickling her, and smacking her bum. Their laughter echoed throughout the house as they turned all the lights off and ran up the stairs into the bedroom.

Harry chased her onto the bed, tickling her sides as she giggled and struggled to squirm out of his grasp.

She pushed against his chest, creating some distance between them and the chuckling and laughter instantly came to a halt as soon as their eyes locked. A sudden silence fell over the room, they were still for a moment, Harry’s dimpled smile sparkling softly down at her. She got on her knees to meet him, brushing a few stray ringlets of his hair out of his eyes. “Hi,” she smiled.

“Hello, baby.”

She connected her lips to his again, leaning in with all her body weight to plop him down onto the bed so that she was the one hovering over him now. It didn’t take much to get Harry worked up and on the edge again. He panted and whined into her mouth, begging for more friction.

“Hold on, darling, let me love on you a little bit. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve- missed you, t-too. S’ jus- intense.”

“I know. It’s been a while, hasn’t it.”

“Mhm,” he nodded furiously, raising his hips to meet hers.

Deciding to give him a little break, she pulled away and began to unbutton his top and unbuckle his pants. His clothes were quickly discarded. Her fingers running down his chest, nails lightly scratching him, Harry hissed and tried to breathe. He genuinely felt he might burst at any moment.

He leaned forward pressing his chest up to hers and kissing her again. His desperation sent a tingle down her spine. The more Harry moaned and whimpered against her mouth, the wetter she felt herself get. Eventually, it was her who was getting impatient. She began to grind against him for relief, Harry gasping at the sensation.

“Please- Please baby. I- I need- fuck- need you to fuck me.”

“Your wish is my command, Hun.”

She shifted to line him up with her cunt, slowly sinking down on him and watching as Harry’s face twisted in pleasure.

“Fff-fuuckk! Y’feel so good.” She always found it flattering when Harry’s voice would get high-pitched and whiny.

“You alright, baby? Open your eyes, Harry. Wanna see you, please?”

Harry’s eyes slowly blinked open and he smiled at her through the blur, his face flushed and starting to sweat.

“All good?”

He nodded.

“I can move now?”

“Yes, please! Move.”

Pressing her palms into the bed for support, she began to ride him. Slowly, at first, savoring every noise and twitch he made, faster and faster as they both surrendered to the pleasure.

“I- I’m gonna- wanna cum. D- ah! Don’t think I can hold it anymore.” Harry looked up at her, his eyes doing a lot of begging.

“Yo ahead, Harry, cum. You don’t have to wait.”

“It’s a lot. I-intense.” He was babbling now. Losing track of his own words.

“It’s okay, babe. I’ve got you. Go ahead. Let go.”

“Yeah? It’s okay?”

She nodded. Her heart always melted at how sweet Harry could sometimes be.

Waves of pleasure crashed over his body, shaking him from head to toe. His orgasm was strong and the trembling lasted a moment. He shook and moaned underneath her, driving her own climax over the edge. Her walls squeezed around him; he gasped and pulled her to his chest, absorbing her moans and rubbing her back with his eyes shut as she came down.

“I love you.” She whispered once she’d caught her breath.

“Same, but please don’t get up yet, okay?”

#harry styles fluff #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x y/n

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homiesexual-or-homosexual · 2 years

Text

Girls, Sex, and Drugs

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Genre: smut, purely smut, and lil bit of fluff

Warnings: sex, hookups, drug use (weed, cigarettes), lil bit of exhibition kink, lil bit of dumbification at the end, protected sex, p in v sex, squirting, let me know if I missed anything

———

Sex just wasn't it for Eddie. Not anymore. Sex was just another activity that someone did when they had nothing else to do. Like the girls that came to Eddie for weed, but forgot their wallets. Or the girls that just came to him for sex when their boyfriends weren't enough.

Eddie would fuck these girls anywhere they pleased, the bathrooms that no one went into anymore, the abandoned classrooms on that one side of school, the picnic benches in the forest beside the school, or for his "special" customers he'd fuck them in his van over by Lover's Lake.

He'd never let these girls get too close though. Not like they wanted it. It was always a pump and dump, except he's the one getting dumped. And it sucked, this poor man just wanted some affection in his life. He wanted someone to stay afterwards with him for a little bit and talk, and maybe smoke a joint if they wanted. But no one would do that, not until you.

Eddie and you had English together, but he never really noticed until you walked up on Eddie balls deep in some chick that was in your shared English class.

The poor girl shrieked, pushing herself away from Eddie and shuffling her clothes back into their rightful places.

"Oh my god. Please," She begged. "Please don't tell anyone about this."

"Lips are sealed, princess," You only smiled down at her, moving aside as she scurried up and over the trail.

"Her loss," Eddie shrugged, turned towards the table, closing his black lunch box.

"So the rumors are true," You settled on the same table but the opposite bench of where the girl was bent over.

"Yes ma'am," Eddie smiled as he settled across from you. "These poor lambs come to me for pleasure because no one else can do it for them."

You only hummed, fishing out a pack of cigarettes from your back pocket and a lighter from your front.

“What about you?” The boy asked, staring at the way you lite them cigarette. “Lost, Little Lamb?”

“Far from it, Munson,” You smiled, exhaling the smoke from your lungs, being nice enough to blow it away from the metalhead.

That’s how your friendship started, bonding over the translucent wall of smoke you’d created. And it only blossomed from there. You’d meet at the benches during lunch and after his dealings, making sure the girls were gone before you headed down the trail. And then you’d started talking in your shared english class. Which escalated to taking turns to walk each other to your next class. Which then also escalated to taking turns to walk each other to your respective cars down in the student parking lot. And finally, you’d gotten the upmost highest privilege you could get in your friendship with Eddie Munson, hanging out at his house. Which had also allowed you to become aquatinted with his uncle. And eventually, you two got close enough for Eddie to come to you with secret stories of his sex endeavors of that day. Sometimes he’d catch you in the hallway right after it happened, a light flush to his cheeks and a light sheen of sweat across the bridge of his nose and settled in the shallow bags under his eyes. And other times, he’d pop by your window after a trip to Lover’s Lake.

Eventually, during one of his stories, you’d found this sick feeling swimming in your stomach and a growing pressure on your sternum. And sometimes you found yourself in a breathless state of jealousy. But where did it come from? Perhaps your evergrowing crush on Eddie? No. No it couldn’t be.

Yes it could.

You’d found that out one late night after a particular exciting session with yourself. And your caught yourself moaning your best friend’s name as you came. A couple times, might I add, as you came down from the full body high.

Little did you know, Eddie had done that same exactly thing only two nights before. He felt bad for looking at you that way, the post-nut guilt settling in his chest. And for a few weeks afterwards, you’d only dance around each other. Aware of the side eyed stares and the lingering touches.

You couldn’t help but think of him on your late nights up. And Eddie couldn’t help but think of you when he was balls deep in some chick from his science class.

It was only after a late night call that Eddie decided to take a risky step in your friendship. Friends with Benefits. He thought that was the next best thing. It was all he knew. You couldn’t blame the boy. And you could only agree, not brave enough to take an official step towards a relationship. But it’s not like anything would change much, you were touchy already. Holding hands between classes, touching some part of each other’s body, and even as going as far as sitting on Eddie’s lap when the opportunity arose. And you two may or may not have kissed each other with you got a little too high. And you may or may not have touched each other during those moments either. So it’s not like much would change. Except much did change.

Eddie found himself turning down sex with his classmates, saying he was too tired or he didn’t have the time. He even turned down the girls that offered sex for free weed. The boy only shook his head and asked them to buy as much as they could at the moment if they could, if not then they could go find another dealer to fulfill their desires. He even told some that he wasn’t that interested in sex anymore. Except he was, just not with them. But with you.

Instead of fucking girls out in the woods or in abandoned classrooms, he’d fuck you there instead. There was just something different about you, a warmth built in his chest at the sight of your dripping pussy and he dick grew impossibly harder at the whimpers and moans that spilt from your mouth. Maybe it was the fact that you stuck around after sex, wiping the sweat from under his eyes and helping settle his jeans back up around his hips. And if you fucked in his van over by Lover’s Lake, perhaps his favorite spot with you, your drag him out to the sandy shore and talk to him about the stars above your heads. He’d listen, yeah. But all he’d be looking at is you. But he couldn’t help it. You looked so pretty wrapped up in the post-sex afterglow.

Eddie got from you what he’d never gotten from no other girl, aftercare. Eddie was an affectionate man, so when you’d insisted you’d stick around to cuddle up with him and give him forehead kisses, he knew he was too far gone.

You two had only been caught fucking just a few times. The first by a group of his “loyal customers” who’d decided to gang up on him and ask him as to what happened between them. The barged into one of the classrooms on the abandoned side of school, crowding the doorway as gasping at the sight in front of them.

The metalhead had you bent over the tall teacher’s desk in the room, his jeans pulled down just enough to whip his cock out and your skirt, that you decided to wear that day, pulled up over your ass. Eddie had a hand gripping the fleshy skin on your hip and the other placed between your shoulder blades so he could keep you pressed against the polished wood as he fucked the ever living daylights out of you.

“You like this, don’t you, little lamb?” Eddie growled, fucking into you harder.

But the barging of about five girls into the room didn’t allow Eddie to hear the answer you whined out. He stopped mid-thrust, about halfway out of you.

“What?” Eddie snapped, not ready to give his time of day to these poor, desperate girls while he was stuffing his favorite girl full of his thick cock.

The group only stared before one spoke up.

“Well, Eddie-“

“Hurry up. You know I don’t have all day,” Sure, Eddie didn’t have all day for girls that only wanted a pump and dump, but for you, he’d give you all day and even more.

Oblivious to your audience, you whined against the table, wordlessly begging Eddie to start moving again.

Eddie only pressed himself plush against your ass, his cock pressing against your cervix in the most delicious, but painless, way.

“We we’re just wondering where you went,” One of the girls started up.

“You never pay attention to us anymore,” Another added on.

“And now you’ve left us for a girl that spends more time in the library than she does in a classroom,” A third snapped, hands on her hips.

“I know at least three of you in this little group here have a boyfriend that you can run along to,” Eddie told them, his already thin patience running even thinner.

“But, Eddie, we-“

“There’s no we anymore,” Eddie snapped. “You either accept that I don’t want you anymore and stop coming to me or go find someone else. Same goes for the weed. I will not be exchanging weed for sex anymore, I don’t have the time.”

Still not even close to full aware, you reached a hand back to push against Eddie’s thigh, begging him to start fucking you again. Eddie’s involuntary twitches of his cock almost made you drip onto the cheap tile below. Eddie ignored your small hand, staring down the group of girls still in the doorway.

“You’re just like every other guy in this school!!” One of the girls cried out, turning around and leading the way into the hallway. They left the door wide open, guaranteeing anyone to walk by to see you get fucked into the wood you’re laid on.

To make sure neither of you were caught, Eddie covered your mouth with the hand that was previously pressed between your shoulder blades. The other stayed on your hip as he fucked you through the rest of lunch.

Another time you’d guys gotten caught was in one of the bathrooms after school. No one else was in the school except you two, and the basketball team.

Earlier that day, some of the basketball players had gotten a little too handsy with you earlier for Eddie’s liking. So due to Eddie jealousy, Eddie decided to fuck you in one of the bathrooms next to the basketball boy’s locker room, so all the ball boys could hear your pretty little moans. And of course, the ball boys couldn’t help be curious.

“Oh fuck! Fuck!!”

Eddie had you bent over one of the sinks and had you facing the mirror. One hand was in your hair to keep your head up so he could keep eye contact with you in the mirror.

“You feel so good, Little Lamb,” Eddie purred, fucking into your harshly. “Squeezing on my cock. You can moan a little louder for me, yeah? Let those dumb jocks know that your Master is fucking you oh so good. They’d never be able to fuck you this good, you know that?”

“Y-yes, Master,” You barely got out, eyes flicking to the side as the door to the bathroom opened.

Eddie smiled to himself, knowing exactly what group of kids it was.

“What? Munson??” One of the boys in the doorway sputtered. “I thought it was-“

“One of your own?” Eddie sneered. “We both know she’d never get this loud if it was one of you.”

The basketball boys grimaced, backing out of the doorway to go spread the news to the others.

“Eddie- I-,” You were choked up, embarrassed at being caught.

“What’s wrong, Little Lamb?” Eddie’s voice was laced with lust and his brutal thrusts came to a slow. He worried that you knowing that you’d been caught was too much for your dumb, little brain.

“Nonono,” You begged, eyes getting a little watery as the pressure in your lower stomach began to build. “Eddie, I-I’m gonna cum. Please please, please go faster. Faster please.”

“Oh?” The metalhead quirked a brow, building up speed again as he slipped a hand between your thighs to rub on your clit. “Gonna cum for your Master, Little Lamb?”

“Yesyesyes,” You nodded the best you could with Eddie grip on your hair. Tears began to spring from the corner of your eyes the closer to release you got. “Pleasepleaseplease. Please Master, fuck me. Fuck me!”

Eddie could only fuck you harder and move his hand between your thighs faster as your whines and moans picked up in volume the closer you got to your release.

“Oh my- Fuck!” The knot in your lower stomach snapped violently and your thighs shook as your gripped the porcelain sink to the best of your ability. “Master- Master! Oh my god! Eddie! Eddie!!”

Your metalhead fucked you through your orgasm, and unbeknownst to you, you squirted. All over him. Well, that’s more of an exaggeration. His upper thighs were soaked, and his boxers and jeans were wet. Arousal ran down your thighs and over his hand, coating his silver rings in the wetness.

This seemed to set off Eddie’s own orgasm. His hand hand flew from between your thighs to your hip, gripping at the flesh, and the hand in your hair pulled you back as Eddie fucked into you sloppily, spilling into the latex that kept you both from being as close to each other as humanly possible. Eddie let your hair go, jerking into you as waves of aftershock ran through his body.

Your head fell and you did your best to keep your upper body up with shakey arms.

“You okay?” Eddie breathed down, his first priority being to check up on you. “I didn’t pull too hard, did I?”

You shook your head no, too fucked own to use your vocal chords for words. And you could only whine as Eddie slowly pulled out, the empty feeling making your legs feel like jello. And you rest your forehead against the cold sink.

The shuffling of jeans and the clinking of a belt was heard and then soft hands were touching you, pulling your panties and then your jeans back over your ass and around your hips. Then Eddie pulled you upright and turned you around. He held your face with a lovesick smile on his face, and then leaned into you to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You okay, Little Lamb?” Your metalhead asked, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“Don’t-“ You sighed out, finding words difficult. “Don’t call me that.”

“Call you what?” Eddie’s smile only got bigger.

“Little Lamb.”

“Why not?“ Eddie asked.

“I’m not ready for round two yet,” You told him, leaning forward to put your head in his chest so you could listen to his heartbeat.

“You will be when we get home, yeah?” He pulled you closer, breathing in your sweet after-sex smell before helping you move so you two could finally leave school.

You whined in response, letting him pull you along by your hand to his van.

#aj posts #I wrote this in like an hour #but I hope you guys like it #:)#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagines #stranger things smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson smut

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preshyaries · 2 years

Text

PRECIOUS

BETWEEN LOOKING FOR SOLACE AND STARTING OFF AFRESH

Your life gonna start fresh soon

Perhaps from telling your self "good morning"

At dawn...when your sun rise in the north

To opening your windows, and waving to the birds of the air...

And appreciating the atmosphere

And your maker for making you see today,

Sending him voice notes of thanksgivings and supplication, for being there for you

Taking away the burden and giving you a lighter back.

For giving you his Psalms that became your guide and friend, king David's voice and songs that gave you solace and eventually turned a resting mat.

Your life gonna start fresh soon

When your done throwing trashes of obsolete lifestyles.

Updating stagnant records that was like a dare to you, cause your mind didn't have enough balls neither was it ready.

Your life gonna start fresh soon cause it's November so it's a due date to Walk way that blurry days, and weakening weeks.

Forgiving folks and bolting far from the fake sorry's .

Letting your heart out, and allowing your remaining days on earth worthwhile

Nothing is really that difficult

Just don't be mastery to anything

Yes give your time, energy and focus

But keep detachment as a reservoir.

Your life gonna start fresh soon

Let your being move, walk out

Listen to the radio, smile at a stranger

Compliment someone, stay in an open space.

Visit that coffee shop close to the park

Render help to the needy.

Show compassion to the less privilege

Never stop an act of kindness.

Visit God at the house

Study his word

Make new friends... embrace love too when it comes staring and pleading to come in

Your life gonna start fresh soon

But like lemon you need to take the first step, and become your lemonade.

@precious

#writers on tumblr #poetry #black and white #writeblr #my writing #tumblr rp #soft black women #original poem #blackgirlswhoblog

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normal-thoughts-official · 2 years

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Thinking about Frenchie, Oluwande and Roach as names... And both the tragedy and the privilege of being mixed/having lighter skin

Out of the three Black men in the Revenge, Oluwande is the only one who has a real name. He's also the only one who has a last name (Boodhari). That, paired with the fact that he seems utterly unused to experiencing racism (his shock at the french person's comment during the party) and the fact that he's the darkest-skinned one out of the three, makes me think that Oluwande probably came from a relatively safe Black community. Maybe a quilombo or maybe he's African and from a tribe that hadn't been torn to shreds before he was born. Either way, Oluwande comes from a place where he's fully human; he has a last name, he has a real name. He knows what it's like to live relatively unaware of how much white people hate him

(Which is then, of course, lost; and because he didn't grow up in that environment, and because he is so dark-skinned, he is the most vulnerable one now, and the one who, in the eyes of white people, needs to be put in his place the most. I want to make it very clear that I'm not trying to imply Oluwande is privileged here; but he is in a unique position as a person of color, especially in that time, and that comparison makes the violence the other two went through even more visible)

Compare that to Roach. Roach as a name is so utterly horrifying, and it leaves a bad taste in my mouth every time I talk about him. Which I think is absolutely intentional. It's racism in its purest form, and you have to be uncomfortable about it. You can't talk about Roach without thinking, to some level, about the horrors of racism and colonization

And also... Roach doesn't have a last name

This, of course, tracks down historically - enslaved people were denied their last names. And having no last name while living in the Western world is having no history, no family, no origin. It's being denied community and family and culture and richness. Someone without a last name is alone in Western society. And someone named Roach and only Roach... Well, they're nothing. From the moment Roach was born, as a dark-skinned Black man who definitely came from a colonized environment, he was put in his place as less-than

And then you have Frenchie. Frenchie was named after the people who colonized his people, and that is fucking awful. Especially considering that Frenchie also doesn't have a last name. So no connection to his own history or culture; all that's left is the culture that hates him. Frenchie was born to be assimilated: forget your culture, forget your roots, spend your whole life trying to be like your colonizer

Except, of course, you'll never actually be accepted by them. He's not a Frenchman. He's Frenchie. It's derisive, it's scornful. Forget who you are, but don't forget that you're also not really one of us. Embrace us, but remember, we won't embrace you

(And if you've studied French colonial history - or read Black Skin, White Masks by Frantz Fanon - you know that the fact that he's named after France absolutely cannot be a coincidence. That was the modus operandi of French colonialism down to the bone. Give your colonized French status, force them to trade their culture for yours, assimilate them in such a way that they might actually believe they are indeed Frenchmen; but never see their lives as equal or them as real Frenchmen)

So, Frenchie's name is a tragedy and also leaves a horrible taste of colonialism, of culture denial, of assimilationism in my mouth. It reminds me of my own grandfather being taken away from his people and taking years to even find out the name of his tribe; it's horrible, and painful in a way that's hard to even put into words

At the same time, he's not Roach

Because Frenchie is also too light-skinned to be anything that isn't mixed, and so his name doubles - it's about colonialism and assimilationism, yes, but it's also being closer to being acceptable to white society. Frenchie can be a Frenchman, kinda; there is some space for him, if he forever accepts the abuse and violence that comes with not being white in that environment. Roach isn't even offered this choice; his skin is not light enough for him to be human in the colonizer's eyes. He could never be seen as even on the vicinity of French men. To them, he's just a roach

It's a good balance, I think, of tackling the privilege of light skin versus the horrible lack of belonging and the fact that said privilege is born out of violence that's carved on your skin into the bone. A commentary made even better by the presence of Oluwande, reminding us that the best thing to be is neither Roach nor Frenchie - the best thing to be is Oluwande Boodhari, a full person, with a real name, with a family and history and a sense of belonging; and who's not used to being treated as lesser than. And in that, OFMD also reminds us to have solidarity, and to not aim for crumbs of acceptance, but for the whole thing

(In this setting, Oluwande feels almost like a fantasy. Being whole, being unused to violence, having history and pride as a person of color. Which again, is not to say he's privileged, because as the darkest-skinned one he's the biggest target. But there's something... Just amazing about seeing this man be so whole despite that)

And it's really a nice balance of drawing solidarity while also pointing out privilege; having both what makes them similar and what makes them different; pointing out that no violence is better or acceptable; and encouraging that people band together instead of tearing each other apart. Plus commentary on history, racism, and assimilationism. It's really so well done, and it blows my mind that they managed to fit so much commentary into nothing but their names

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piecksz · 3 years

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three’s a crowd | (m)

pairing: reiner x fem!reader x eren

warnings: nsfw, oral sex (female recieving), cuckolding, male masturbation, penetrative sex, voyeurism, slight degredation, slight angst, light mention of drugs, explicit language

summary: reiner’s attempt at hiding his attraction towards you fails, but lucky for him, eren’s feeling generous.

words: 4.6k

a/n: this was so much longer than i planned for.....well.....shit LMAOOO

a/n x2: I FORGOT TO ADD if you guys wanna listen to the song i looped like 47 fucking times while writing this, bc i feel like it fits reiner in this one shot kinda well, u can listen to recognize by partynextdoor (feat. drake) :p enjoy

Reiner hated Eren.

He hadn’t gone into living with someone he’d never met in person before with innumerable expectations, but he wasn’t banking on his roommate to be his polar opposite. He hated the sound of Eren’s riotous music into the early hours of dawn. He hated the unbearable malodor of his marijuana dependence, and he hated the way he carried himself with an intolerable air of arrogance, but as much as Eren’s living habits irritated him, it was the fact that Eren had you that presided over all of his grievances.

Being a witness to it made Reiner sick, knowing that you were leagues above Eren, and surely you deserved someone respectable, but somehow he’d charmed you into a long-term relationship, and Reiner wondered how he’d managed it. If by some miracle it had been up to him, Reiner speculated that he would be a viable match for you--that was if he had those sentiments for you--and he reassured himself he didn’t hold any promiscuous feelings towards his roommate’s girlfriend.

Yet it was hard for Reiner to rationalize the obscene thoughts that pervaded his mind at 2 AM. His clock displayed the time in bold red numbers, an indication that he should have been fast asleep, but you had decided to spend the night, and he already understood what that entailed.

The walls in their apartment were thin and did an insubstantial job of muting the noise that traveled between rooms. Reiner boasted the privilege of having his room right next to Eren’s, which meant he could hear everything that happened on the other side of the barrier. He heard every whimper, every groan, every time Eren praised you for taking him so well, and every time he admired how irresistible you looked while he fucked you from the back. The sound was so lucid he could count exactly how many rounds you guys had gone, and it was usually two, three if Eren hadn’t seen you in a while which was rare.

You two were hard to ignore, no matter how hard Reiner had tried, meaning he was also up late, listening while you two coupled. Your cries of stimulation, however, he didn’t mind as much. In truth, Reiner was always tempted to slip his hands into his pants and get himself off to the sound of your enticing whimpers, but he would discourage himself, deciding it was against his better judgement. Instead he would opt to cover his ears with his pillow, flipping over onto his side and dedicating his total effort to falling asleep.

Of course, Reiner had long established that he didn’t like you, but he swore he could make you feel better than Eren could.

It was around midday when Reiner returned to their apartment after committing his morning to helping his long-time friend, Pieck, pack up the furniture at her studio in preparation to move. They were halfway finished with stowing away Pieck’s belongings before she realized they didn’t have enough boxes and apologized, asking Reiner if he’d be willing to return the following day to help her load up her remaining things. He obliged, guiltily happy that he was being dismissed early.

Reiner kicked off his shoes and ambled into the kitchen to set down the food he secured on his way home, but he paused momentarily to scrutinize the condition of the living room, discerning Eren’s obvious trace.

The TV was on, but it sat idly, blinking images of some prime time movie Reiner couldn’t recognize, and Eren’s drug paraphernalia was left scattered on the coffee table, his bong alongside his stray lighter and grinder.

“Eren!” Reiner had prompted him on several occasions, reminding Eren that just because he thought electricity was a necessary utility and should be free, didn’t mean it was, they still had to pay for it. He also requested that he put his bong away after he was done smoking since it wasn’t permitted in their building, but Eren seemed heedless to that demand too. “Eren!”

Reiner anticipated a response, but huffed when he received only silence. Leave it to his roommate to blight his good mood in record time. He mumbled inaudibly, swiping the remote off the table to turn the TV off, and then reluctantly bending down to tidy the space of Eren’s things.

“Hi, Sunshine. You’re up and about early.”

Reiner straightened himself out and turned around, unaware that you’d been over. He missed your approaching footsteps. Had you stayed the night? He didn’t hear anything from Eren’s room the previous evening which was unusual to say the least. Maybe you’d stopped by earlier that morning while he’d been out.

“Hey,” he replied meekly. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were here.”

Reiner’s eyes looked you over swiftly, slightly startled at the lack of clothing covering your bottom half. You were only wearing a loose shirt that stopped dangerously at your hips and a pair of lace undergarments, but naturally, you didn’t seem the least bit phased. You’d practically lived with them. When you weren’t in class or at your part-time job, you were at their apartment, leading Reiner to wonder if you forgot you had a place of your own.

“It’s fine,” you smiled. “Sorry Eren left all of his shit out. I don’t know how I know the house rules and he doesn’t.”

Reiner snorted. “He knows them, he just doesn’t care.” His voice was casual although he walked hastily into the kitchen to avoid looking at you. He stored Eren’s bong in the vacant cupboard above the microwave before throwing his other tools into a miscellaneous drawer.

As if on cue, Eren wandered out of his room languidly, carelessly shrugging a jacket onto his unclad upper body. Reiner took that as a sign that his lunch would be best enjoyed in his room. He was already irked, and wasn’t in the headspace to deal with the current atmosphere.

“What’d you get?” you questioned, leaning over the counter with mirth. You paid little attention to the way Eren came up behind you, circling his arms around your waist and resting his chin in the curve of your shoulder. You looked more interested in the alluring smells wafting from the paper bag in Reiner’s hand.

Another thing he hated about Eren was his shameless PDA. It appeared he adored showing you off, letting everyone know that you were his, but God--how could anyone forget when it seemed he was incapable of keeping his hands off of you. Reiner himself recognized that you were a prize, from your lively eyes that were a marriage of subtle hues to the way your lips curled upwards when you grinned. He even noticed the curve of your breasts’ shape through your shirt. If Reiner had you, he’d want you all to himself.

He shook the thought out of his head.

“I just got something small on the way home.” He forced a smile. “If I’d known you were over I would have gotten you something too.”

“Why do you treat Y/N better than you treat me?” Eren asked, sounding only a little bit offended.

Reiner pretended to think before he responded. “Ah, maybe it’s because I don’t like you.”

You laughed at Reiner’s reply, and Eren only smiled, but Reiner detected something else behind his expression. Mischief.

“Do you like Y/N?”

Reiner creased his eyebrows together. “Of course.” He hadn’t read too much into the question. He did like you. You weren’t just easy on the eyes, but you were great company too. That was the only reason he didn’t mind lending their apartment to you as a second home, he enjoyed being around you.

You let out an exaggerated aww after he answered. “I like you too, Reiner.”

Reiner chuckled, shaking his head, but inside he was telling his heart to calm down. You didn’t mean it like that.

Eren hummed absentmindedly, swaying side to side slowly while you rocked along to his movement.

“Do you wanna fuck her?”

Reiner gripped the bag in his hand tightly, and his smile faltered in shock, reeling from the bombshell of Eren’s question. “What?” Did he hear him correctly?

You looked just as surprised, exclaiming your boyfriend’s name and craning your neck to look at him.

“I’m kidding,” he dismissed, but Reiner could tell he wasn’t from the way Eren’s eyes didn’t waver from him.

What Reiner didn’t know was that Eren had caught onto him. He’d known for a while, which was why he was particularly touchy with you around Reiner, showing you off, not caring whether you walked around their apartment scarcely dressed, it was because Eren enjoyed having something that someone else wanted. He saw the way his roommate acted around his girlfriend, reserved and quiet, more than he usually was, and he even noticed the way Reiner’s eyes dipped down to your chest in the moment because Eren was exceptional at paying attention to detail.

You must have detected how uncomfortable Reiner felt because you delivered a brief jab to Eren’s ribs with your elbow.

“Eren, that’s not fucking funny,” you chided. “Do I need to put you in time out?”

“It’s fine,” Reiner interrupted quickly. He didn’t want you defending him because you were oblivious. It only made the situation more embarrassing than it already was since, truthfully, the thought had crossed his mind more than once.

Eren reiterated his question, eyes narrowed at Reiner. “So do you?”

You sighed heavily and looked at Reiner apologetically. He could feel his face growing hot, and he prayed it wasn’t obvious he was as flushed as he felt. He just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.

Reiner released a humourless chuckle. “Grow up, Eren.” He slipped past the two of you, but he didn’t get far.

“I’m only asking because I’m feeling charitable. You wouldn’t mind, would you baby?”

Reiner could hear Eren pressing a series of ticklish kisses against your skin, causing you to laugh through your answer.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind if Reiner doesn’t mind.”

Reiner brought his teeth down hard on the tip of his tongue. He was surprised that Eren was so secure in his relationship that he would willingly allow another man to have his way with his girlfriend. He wasn’t sure if his suggestion was insane or ingenious, because Eren had taken control of the one thing that threatened any relationship: infidelity, something so unvirtuous wouldn’t stop him from loving you. You and Eren were so committed to each other that a simple fuck meant nothing.

Reiner hesitated, but figured an opportunity like this was rare. He had both Eren’s permission and yours, yet he still didn’t believe his sincerity until you were in Eren’s room, starting to strip out of your clothes.

His chestnut eyes drifted over to Eren, slouched lazily in the chair he casually pulled out from his desk. “You’re gonna watch?”

Eren lifted a thick eyebrow, resting his thumb under his chin with an index finger against his cheek, looking unimpressed by Reiner’s obvious reservations. “You think I’d let you fuck my girlfriend without me here?”

Reiner slid a tense hand over the back of his neck, rubbing away the uncomfortable heat that creeped up his back and diffused to the tips of his ears. He figured that was reasonable considering the circumstances, after all, he was only fucking you because Eren had allowed it.

There was nothing more intoxicating to Reiner than your bare form, scanty pink lace clinging to your hips the only thing preventing you from being completely naked in front of him. His gaze dipped from your simpering smile down to your collarbones and then down to your breasts, perfectly sculpted to your figure.

Reiner made no efforts to move despite his insatiable urge to grab you in his arms and make certain that you were left satisfied. He feared he’d look too eager to Eren who was observing from the sidelines, but you paid little attention to your audience of one as you sauntered towards Reiner, closer and closer, until your arms slid around his neck and you pressed your chest to his torso.

Reiner’s body was strung so tightly, he was afraid he might snap. It seemed you took notice of the way his muscles tensed once your delicate fingers ghosted over the nape of his neck because your suggestive expression waned, and instead, your eyebrows creased with sincere concern.

“You okay?”

He couldn’t respond, but to be fair, it was because his heart was hammering against his chest and he wasn’t sure how to make it stop. He looked over at Eren again, who, fortunately, didn’t seem to pay much attention to him. Instead, your boyfriend’s stare was fixed on your backside, likely admiring how luscious you looked from his perspective.

“I’m over here.” You laughed and pressed a gentle finger to Reiner’s chin, redirecting his focus back to you. “Just relax.”

He swallowed, chuckling to soothe his unease. “I’m trying.”

Reiner wasn’t sure why he felt so unassertive in your presence. He didn’t hold a record like Eren did, but he also wasn't abstinent by any means. This, though, felt different. He was dealing with several months of pent-up sexual frustration that could only be satisfied by you and no one else. He knew because he’d tried.

Reiner drew in a ragged breath as you leaned into him, breathing heavily through his mouth until you closed the space in between you two, then he continued breathing heavily through his nose. At first, he made no efforts to close his eyes, afraid that the imagery in front of him was a mirage inspired by his own imagination and would disappear if he so much as blinked. His lips were timid, body taut under your touch, but you seduced his mouth, reining him in until he melted into the kiss.

He pushed back against you with fervor and desperation, outlining the shape of your bottom lip with his tongue before nipping at the soft flesh. You released a quiet whimper, intensifying the lust swelling in the pit of his stomach, and Reiner forced his tongue past your teeth, claiming your mouth while his wandering hands settled audaciously against your ass.

Your hands slid over his shoulders and crafted biceps until they tugged hastily against the hem of his shirt, and Reiner immediately understood your cue, withdrawing his mouth from yours to give himself just enough time to slip out of it. He dipped down again to deliver another kiss, but he was deterred by the feeling of your palm against his chest.

“What? Is something wrong?” he questioned quickly, eyes darting back and forth between your hand and your face, worried that he’d done something to overstep your boundaries.

Instead of the troubled expression he expected, you looked rather intrigued. Perhaps impressed was the better word. Your curiosity was held by Reiner’s physique, a living work of art. Eager fingers traveled down the built ripples of his abdomen, chuckling once you felt his muscles flex under your touch.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathed. “Nice, Braun.”

A snicker emitted from the corner. This, miraculously, Eren allowed.

Reiner's mouth quirked upward in a subtle smile before he surrounded you with his arm, pulling you in for another kiss. He walked you backwards until you collapsed onto the mattress, and he fell on top of you, strong forearms holding up his weight. It was then that Reiner realized he allowed his lust to win in the war against himself.

He pulled away to recover his breath, winded pants fanning over your face. His surveying eyes searched yours before they lowered to your swollen lips. God, you were even more mesmerizing up close, heavy-lidded and studying him through a curtain of eyelashes. Maybe for once Reiner would admit he was jealous of Eren. He was fucking envious, bitter, and spiteful that you were his. He’d been a goddamn idiot to let things go this far, agreeing to Eren’s offer, because he knew one fuck wouldn’t be enough to fufill his need for you. He’d barely gotten a taste, and he could already promise that nothing would ever compare to this.

He found your throat and pressed a fleeting kiss to your pulse, moving further down until his lips met your collarbone. He nipped at the delicate skin, taking notice of the way your grip in his hair tightened. His eyebrows arched while he peered up at you, delighting in the way your head rolled back and forth against the duvet. He really wanted to suck at your skin, leaving dark bruises that decorated the path from your earlobe down to your breastbone, but he knew Eren would kill him.

Reiner dipped lower until his lips brushed lightly against your beaded nipple. You made a small sound of protest, but held his head closer, letting him know what you really wanted. His heart beat erratically against his ribcage as he curved a large hand around your right breast and suppressed a groan, but you released a breathy whimper.

He could feel the sound wreaking havoc in his brain. His balls were so damn tight, it would take barely any effort for him to cum, but he wanted to prolong your coupling as long as possible. He didn’t know if he’d ever get another chance like this.

His thumb ran over the erect peaks of your breasts, captivated by the magic of watching your back arch and your body become aroused under his touch. He dipped a finger into his mouth, glazing it with his saliva before using it to flick back and forth at your nipple.

“Fuck, Reiner,” you mewled.

Reiner replaced his hand with his lips, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth. The tip of his tongue swirled around it, coating it generously with his spit, while you made no attempts to conceal your intense cries of pleasure.

Eren released an entertained sigh, swiveling back and forth in his chair. “She whines like a bitch, doesn’t she?”

Shit. Reiner had almost forgotten he was there, but he still released a hungry grunt in agreement, sending vibrations over your chest. He tugged at your nipple with his teeth, releasing it, and then soothing the sting with the flat side of his tongue.

He trailed down your abdomen, pressing hard wet kisses and stopping to leave a quick lick to your navel. He grinned against your skin when you gripped the sheets and breathed his name again, this time quieter, as if you meant it only for his ears. He liked to think so.

Once he reached the waistband of your panties, he licked along the fabric, immobilizing your rolling hips with strong hands.

“Enough with the theatrics, Reiner. Just do it already,” Eren groaned, sounding irate.

Reiner assumed Eren’s groan was only to stress his impatience, but once he looked over to him, he realized he wasn’t just giving directives from the sidelines. His bottom lip was tucked between his teeth, and his hand was moving steadily against the noticeable tent in his sweatpants.

He was enjoying this just as much as Reiner was, getting off to the sight of his girlfriend under another man, his roommate nonetheless.

Reiner suddenly felt strange. What the hell was he doing providing entertainment for Eren?

“Reiner,” your needy voice pulled him out of his reflection. His attention drifted back to you, watching while you propped yourself up on your elbows and slid your unsteady hands over your chest to tweak your own nipples, as if you were trying to hold yourself over.

He wished you hadn’t looked so tempting, even with your disheveled hair and sweaty skin, your vulnerable eyes fixated on him, and he was powerless.

Reiner hooked his fingers around your underwear, kissing a trail down the inside of your thighs as he pulled your panties down to your ankles before slipping them off and letting them pool on the floor.

“Spread wide baby, let him see that pretty pussy,” Eren stirred, cock now thrust out the top of his grey sweats and his swollen tip glistening with precum. His hand was wrapped firmly around his stiff length, moving slow while his breathing quickened.

For once, Reiner agreed with him, and he pressed his fingers into your thighs to aid you in parting your legs. Your pussy was slick with your own arousal, squelching as you tightened around nothing. You were even prettier than he’d imagined.

“Fuck,” Reiner breathed, extending two fingers to part your folds. Was he still sure he wasn’t dreaming?

He wrapped his built arms around your legs, pulled you closer, and lowered his head. He fixed his lips to your swollen clit, allowing his tongue to lap and circle around the tender bud every few seconds.

“Oh my god,” you cried, writhing against the sheets.

If he hadn’t secured your legs in his grip, he was certain you would have smothered him between your thighs out of reflex. He could detect the way you fought against his hold, but he far overpowered you in strength.

When he plunged his tongue inside you without notice, that was nearly enough to send you over the edge. You pulled on the sheets with a frenzied grip, producing a shrill cry your neighbors had certainly heard. There was no doubt about it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you murmured, chest expanding and falling with labored breaths.

Reiner wanted to spend a few more generous minutes tasting you, he couldn’t get enough, but he also wasn’t sure how much longer he would last. His cock was hot and hard in his pants, and he needed to feel you around him. Even if Eren wouldn’t let him cum inside of you, he needed to experience at least that much.

He rose to his feet, working quickly against his pants’ zipper while trying not to tease himself by looking at you. He was worried the mere sight of you on the bed, spread and ready for him would be enough to bring him to a climax, but he’d made the mistake of looking at you anyways, hand between your legs, delicate fingers rubbing at your clit while you stared up at him.

Fucking hell. Kill me. Reiner thought. Fuck. He felt the throbbing heat of his cock, and he wished you wouldn’t look at him like that. He really wished you wouldn’t look at him like that.

“Look at her, so desperate to be filled. It’s almost pathetic,” Eren laughed, but it was clear he was feeling your effect too. He lolled his head forward, long brown hair spilling over his shoulders and obscuring his face while his palm worked fast against his cock.

Shut up, Reiner thought. His head was growing hazy, and he couldn’t think. He needed to be inside you, and he couldn’t wait a second longer.

Reiner let himself free while his pants and underwear hung low around his knees. He couldn’t even find time to delight in the way your face melted into bliss once you laid eyes on his thick cock, leaking precum in sinful amounts because all he could think about was his ache. He leaned over you, positioning himself at your entrance.

He’d been waiting for this for so goddamn long.

Reiner exhaled when you said his name again, hips undulating against his cock and wet folds stroking his tip. He watched as he pushed himself into you, filling you to the hilt, and once he was inside he hung his head forward, eyes shut tightly in a painful sort of ecstasy.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Reiner grunted breathlessly.

He groaned, pinning your hips down with his once you attempted to fuck yourself onto his cock.

“Stop moving,” he pleaded. “Jesus christ--please don’t move.” He stayed still for a moment, waiting until his sensitivity subsided before he started rocking his hips against you slowly.

Reiner couldn’t dedicate his focus to anything other than the feeling of your slick walls clenching around his cock every time he pulled out, and the way he stretched you out every time he thrusted back in. He wondered if you could feel the depth of his desire.

“Harder,” you whispered once, and then begged louder. “Reiner please, fuck me harder.”

At first, Reiner was worried. He wanted to be gentle, he wanted to savor you, and he wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt you, but your request had him picking up the pace, ramming into you until the familiar slapping sound of sweaty skin filled the room.

You unraveled and became completely undone, letting out loud moans every time he drove his cock into you. Reiner thought the sound was incredibly euphonic as it fell upon his ears. You were like this because of him.

“How’s this?” His voice was husky and deep beside your ear.

Reiner was pleased by your lack of response. You could only nod, overwhelmed by the dual sensation brought on by him and the feeling of your quick fingers against your clit. You secured an arm around his neck again and wrapped your legs around his torso, clinging to him like he was all you needed. He wished that was how you really felt.

“Close…,” you murmured, and Reiner deduced you were warning him that you were near your orgasm. He could tell by the way your walls began to spasm.

Reiner felt the small of his back tighten, and he knew he was close too. He was torn between his release and holding himself back, not ready for this to end just yet, but his body betrayed him and he felt his cock twitch inside you.

Luckily, you reached your climax first, and Reiner watched in awe as your body seized underneath him, breasts bobbing with every jolt while you worked your clit into overstimulation. It wasn’t long after your orgasm that he made his last rueful thrusts. He quickly pulled out and clasped himself in the curve of his hand. He pumped his length until he released in quick spurts onto your stomach, covering you in his hot seed, and he kept pumping until he made sure he emptied himself of every drop.

His eyes quickly darted over to Eren, not to be odd or anything, but again, he had forgotten he was there. It seemed Eren had already satisfied himself. The creamy, white liquid decorating the bare skin of his abdomen and dribbling down his loose fist was evidence of that. Now that he had appeased his urges, he seemed disinterested as he reached over his desk and plucked a few tissues to clean himself up.

Reiner collapsed beside you, listening to the loud thudding of his heart as it delivered a few ecstatic beats while he caught his breath and began to calm down. He stared at the pivoting fan blades, and then his eyes dropped down to you lying next to him, sweaty and fucked out.

You were laying there with him, and goddammit he wanted to reach his arms out and wrap them around you, pulling you close so he could hold you and feel your heartbeat against his chest. He’d press kisses to your salty forehead, and then tell you how much he loved you. He wanted to stay like this.

Reiner's ideal vision dissolved once Eren stopped at the edge of the bed and extended his hand for you to grab.

“You wanna join me for a shower, baby?” Eren asked.

Of course, you took it, allowing him to support you until you were sitting up.

You released an exhausted laugh. “Yes, please.” You then turned to Reiner and arched your eyebrow in surprise. “By the way, not bad, Braun.”

Reiner gave you a small smile in return, but said nothing as he watched you cover your breasts with your arm and let Eren hoist you off the bed. You two slid past him and headed out of the room, but not without Eren looking back over his shoulder, shooting Reiner a shit-eating grin, as though reminding him who you’d always belong to.

3K notes · View notes

athyathye · 3 years

Note

Hii!! Saw your requests are open so i decided i'd shoot my shot lol :D it's my birthday today and i kinda have noone to celebrate with so could i ask for a Chifuyu, Mikey and Mitsuya scenario where everyone forgets the readers birthday? :,)

ps: i love your work sm <3

Birthday Treats!

(Chifuyu, Mikey and Mitsuya)

Author's note 📝: Everybody! Greet a belated happy birthday to our friend here! @chiifxyu I wish you the best in life sweetie~!

Warnings ⚠️: None but curse words!

Chifuyu :

❥ Chifuyu wasn’t really a busy man, he had all the time in the world. And he unfortunately abused that privilege, going on roadtrips and such. Helping his friends out and whatnot. But he forgot about the fact that he had someone to return to. Someone who’d steadily open their arms again and again for his comfort.

❥ You were walking home, having an uneventful day at school. Hoping that the day would come to an end. You had texted Chifuyu earlier that day, hoping that he’d at least respond.

❥ Though all you got back was “Good morning, love~ Have a great day! I’ll be out with the boys.”

❥ You saw that coming, he hadn’t really been attentive this week. It seemed like he had lots of stuff going on with Takemitchy seeing as though they’ve been stuck like glue since the past week.

❥ Browsing through your phone to distract yourself from your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed it began to rain.

That was when somebody called out to you, well actually two boys called out to you. You looked back to see two figures waving their arms inside of a park entrance.

❥ “Y/n!” Chifuyu exclaimed with a smile, running towards you despite the rain, grabbing your bag for you before ushering you to the place where he and Takemitchy had been staying.

❥ “Why do you look so gloomy?” Takemitchy asked, scratching his head with a nervous smile, “Is it because I’ve been stealing Chifuyu from you? Ha ha~ Sorry.” He bowed to you, it was too sudden so you flinched before repeatedly telling him it was ok.

❥ “Yeah, Takemitchy, y/n understands! By the way dude, congrats on passing 2nd year, Baji flunked and so did Kazutora” Chifuyu chuckled at his friend's behavior.

❥ “Uh, well- thanks! It’s not something that should be congratulated though...I’ll get going first then! I have to go pick Hina up from her cram school, Sorry again y/n!” Takemitchy waved at both of you. You waved back before feeling Chifuyu’s gaze on you.

❥ “Should we go now? Or should we wait for the rain to stop.” Chifuyu raised his hand out to you, knowingly expecting you to take it. Though he didn’t expect you to lean your head to his chest. Leaning down from your standing position.

❥ “Woah-” “Can you congratulate me too?...”

“Y/n?” “It’s my birthday…”

❥ ‘F*ck’ Chifuyu thought as he internally screamed.

❥ “Wait here!” He exclaimed, gently pushing you away from him as he ran into the pouring rain.

❥ After about 5 minutes he came back, soaking wet and school uniform nowhere to be found.

❥ He handed you a plastic bag, when he looked inside there was a cute little red velvet cake.

❥ “Sorry...I know your favorite was [prefrence] but that was all they had at the store near. The next one was like 10 minutes away and I couldn’t make you wait that long…”

❥ He then got something from his pocket, a lighter. He lit it up before gesturing it to you.

❥ “Happy birthday, Y/n”

Mitsuya :

❥ He was a good boyfriend, he was a great boyfriend even, but he’s got a lot on his mind. It’s a jumbled mess if you take a peek in there.

❥ But you hadn’t expected him to forget your birthday. It was 6 am when Mitsuya texted you, “Hey babe, Do you think you could come to my house? It’s urgent…”

❥ You thought it was some sort of surprise, maybe you shouldn’t have expected something. He had brought you there to use as a model. And though you were flattered by him saying “everything looks good on you, you make the best model” It still hurt to have him unconsciously forget your birthday.

❥ You knew him as a natural romantic, showing up to your house whenever you had a date with roses, smooth talking your mom to make her accept him, to being the manly person your dad wanted him to be. He was the perfect boyfriend who did everything right, until today.

❥ You did your best to support him as well. Did your best to provide him comfort and happiness, you both were a match made in heaven and you’d be a fool to let this bother you.

❥ With fabric wrapped around you like a blanket, it was impossible to move without ripping the dainty fabric. Mitsuya had made sure you were comfortable though. After 2 hours his phone rang.

❥ He went to check it out, only to see a big bolded “Y/n:))” on the screen, he wondered what it was for when he saw the date. *Thump!*

❥ “Mitsuya?” you glanced at his frozen figure, sewing materials falling on the floor. “Wha-” you started before you felt yourself get covered with a very expensive fabric he made sure to tell you not to touch.

❥ ‘F*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck’ he murmured to himself as he ran out of his house. Looking like a crazy madman as he looked around for something. Finally he met a grandpa on the street who lent him something along with a purchase.

❥ To say you were confused was an understatement, what had happened? Were your friends in an emergency? You had long lost hope for him to remember your birthday.

❥ You were about to call for anyone else who was in the house before you heard someone clear their throat, along with a clear microphone ring.

“You're my vice

You're my muse

You're a nineteenth floor view

I don't see nobody but you

Girl, you got me hooked on to something

Who could say that they saw us coming?

Tell me

Do you feel the love?”

❥ You heard him sing, the fabric slowly being rid off of you, a teddy bear and a rose in his hands as he sang for you.

❥ “Do you got plans tonight?

I’m a couple hundred miles from Japan and I~”

❥ His husky and deep voice was a perfect mix of sultry and sweet.

❥ “So do you have plans? I’ll make it up to you”

Mikey :

❥ A busy man with a busy life, it was no wonder he had forgot necessary events in his life, his only brain cells were always getting knocked out of him in fights, though they rarely landed a hit on him you really can’t get away unscathed with fights involving at least 100+ people.

❥ However he had been missing along with the rest of the gang for a week now. You thought for sure he’d come back by now, but there were no signs.

❥ Now, he knew he was a forgetful person. He knew how much he forgets on the daily, but he swore to god he didn’t want to forget a thing about you.

❥ So what did he do? Buy custom rings that had each other’s birthday on it. He was so proud showing that ring off, honestly. He’d look at it everyday with a smile on his face, or just unconsciously play with it.

❥ So you had a reason to believe he’d come back for your birthday. But night-time had already come, and there were no signs. That was until you Hina had called, informing you that they were on their way to their base to lead an emergency meeting.

❥ Outraged, you sneaked out of your house before immediately sprinting to the place.

❥ All of the members of the gang was present, each holding their hands behind them as they listened to Mikey’s speech. At least until an ominous energy sent a chill down their spines, even Mikey had to stop from uneasiness.

❥ Though before anyone could point you out, A satisfying blow hit Mikey in the stomach, do not underestimate angry women. He was sent hurling through the ground before the members on the bottom.

❥ Draken had flinched and was about to stop you, until he saw a tear sliding down your face, “Y/n…” “Do you know...how hard I tried to look for all of you?”

❥ You ignored the hesitating Draken, walking down the steps before you stomped on Mikey’s groaning body.

❥ “Couldn’t you have at least called me!? Left a letter?! Or at least just one word from you!!!” Mitsuya flinched as he heard the sound of the pavement breaking, urging the other to look away or turn around to save their leader from further embarrassment.

❥ “WAIT! TIME OUT! HEY!! Oh. wait. What’s today?” “THE DAY YOU DIE *SSH*LE!”

❥ Finally, Draken made a move to make you release Mikey, though that was all he did before Mikey stood up with a little help from Smiley. Before he limped towards you, grabbing your wrist as he ran (limped) to his motorcycle.

❥ Ignoring the shouts of protest from other members “MIKEY! We had a fight today!!!” “IF YOU LEAVE BAJI’S THE ONE WHO’S GONNA SET UP PUNISHMENT FOR YOU”

❥ He said nothing as he made you wear a helmet and forcefully made you hold his waist, riding against the dark night feeling more and more guilty by the second as he heard and felt every sniffle that came out of your mouth.

❥ Finally, you guys arrived at his planned destination. The beach where he’d take you for dates because it was calming.

❥ Sadly, he did not make it on time, being hours late. The sun had started to rise.

❥ “I’m sorry for being late...but happy birthday”

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers headcanons #matsuno chifuyu x reader #chifuyu x reader #mitsuya takashi x reader #mitsuya takashi #mikey x reader #manjiro sano x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x y/n

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hajimine · 3 years

Text

perennial destiny — fushiguro megumi x gn!reader

synopsis: megumi does not like the concept of soulmates. he wants to be able to choose who he loves—and he chooses you.

word count: 1.2k

genre: fluff, soulmate!au but not really, established relationship, soft!megumi (this is so cheesy fr)

soundtrack: on a clear day by joe hisaishi

a/n: i’m ngl i actually like this lol so i hope you guys do too! tysm @rintaroll for being my beta and for the song rec mwah ily (ew) <3

A light smattering of clouds paint the blue sky in splashes of white, providing you with a little bit of shade from the otherwise bright afternoon sun.

You gaze at the little ducks waddling around on the pond, following their mother’s path. Unconsciously, you feel your lips curl up into a smile.

“What are you looking at?” Megumi murmurs, face turned towards you as he uses his hand to block out the sun from his eyes.

Humming, you give him a cheeky smile. “Nothing.”

He scrunches his face slightly, biting back a smile. He's used to your antics at this point.

Using his forearm to cover his eyes, Megumi sighs contently, shifting the position of his head on your lap to make himself more comfortable. The added weight on your thighs feel comforting, almost. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The two of you stay in silence for a while as you bask in each other’s presence, enjoying the moment. The dark-haired boy plucks a stray dandelion beside him, inspecting it closely.

“Do you,” he starts, hesitating. You hum, urging him to continue. “Do you believe in soulmates?”

You stay quiet for a while, pondering his question. “I think I do, actually,” you admit. “It’s kinda sweet—the idea of it all. I’d like to think that there’s someone out there who’s meant for me, y’know?”

Megumi closes his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering as he considers your answer. He's really pretty, you think to yourself.

“Don’t you think it’s a little bit dumb?” He asks finally.

The bluntness of his words takes you by surprise. You laugh, gazing down at him with a fond look in your eyes. There’s a small frown on his lips; the crease between his brows a little more pronounced than usual.

Carding your fingers through his hair, you watch as he relaxes under your touch, the tension leaving his shoulders bit by bit.

You settle on a simple question. “What makes you say that?”

Megumi sighs, “The whole ‘fate and destiny’ thing. I think not being able to live your life the way you want to is a little depressing.” He purses his lips. “What if you don’t like your soulmate?”

You turn to look at the ducks again, but they were nowhere to be found. Now, the pond was silent, and there were no ripples in sight.

The pleasant smell of earth seeps into your lungs as you breathe in. Never in a million years would you have expected to have this kind of conversation with him.

You didn’t exactly peg him as someone who would be interested in the concept of soulmates at all. A soft smile graces your lips.

“Well, I suppose there should be a system to prevent that,” you squint, “maybe they would make it so that it’s impossible for you to hate your soulmate.”

Megumi clicks his tongue. “That just makes us robots then.”

This makes you grin. “Robots?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, now shy. “If that's the case, you really have no choice in your thoughts and feelings, it simply strips your humanity away from you.”

You stop running your fingers through his hair for a moment and Megumi shifts, nudging your hand with his head to get you to continue. Cute.

Amused, you ask him, “Well, what if soulmates are real, and I’m not your soulmate, what would you do?”

He plucks another dandelion from the ground and inspects it before holding it close to his chest.

“It won’t change anything.” He says, not an ounce of hesitation in his words.

“Wouldn’t you wanna find your real soulmate?” You inquire, the flames of curiosity dancing in your eyes.

Without wasting a second, he sits up, turning around to face you. He studies your face for a second, eyes traveling down the curve of your nose and down to the slight upturn of your lips before returning to hold your gaze.

Megumi speaks, eyebrows furrowed. “No. the fates or the heavens or whatever the hell is controlling our destiny won’t have any effects on my choices. I’m not about to be another pawn in the gods’ game of love. It’s the least I can do.”

And you laugh, light and bubbly; ignoring the fact that your chest feels abundantly lighter after his statement.

“You’re really serious about this, huh?”

His cheeks flare up, the headstrong confidence from a minute ago now gone, replaced by the charming bashfulness only a few have had the privilege to see.

“Well,” he mumbles, “I’m not gonna leave you just ‘cause some prophecy tells me to. I like you. A lot.” Maybe a little too much, but he doesn’t tell you this.

The breeze tickles your face. “Yeah?”

Megumi refuses to meet your eyes, but he continues. “I want to spend the rest of my life with someone I chose myself. Soulmate or not.”

It is not his words that make your heart flutter—it’s the quiet blossoms in his cheeks, the sureness in his voice. If fate was a human, you’re sure that he’d fight her with no hesitation. Heck, even if she was a god, knowing Megumi, he would fight her too, even if it’ll cost him his life.

You watch him twirl the stem of dandelion between his fingertips. He doesn’t blow on it, nor does he make a wish like anyone else would in the presence of the perennial, he simply observes the flutters of white falling from its head.

“So you would defy destiny if you had to?” You ask, knowing exactly what his answer would be even before he utters another word.

“Yes.” his dark eyes are steady, not a drop of uncertainty swimming in its depths.

The soft breeze suddenly feels a little too warm for comfort. “That’s awfully romantic, don’t you think?”

And he blinks at you, but he does not yield. “Well, I just think soulmates are awfully unromantic.” He says, the corner of his lips twitching slightly.

A genuine laugh bubbles out from your chest. “You’re a curious one, Fushiguro Megumi.”

The smile on his lips is a fond one. “What about you?” He props his chin on the palm of his hand. “What would you do if soulmates are real?”

“Ah,” you pretend to think, “you’d be my soulmate then.”

He rolls his eyes at you, but the tips of his ears are dipped in vermillion. “But what if I’m not your soulmate?”

You spare him nothing but a glance, rising to your feet before brushing the dirt off your pants. As you squint at the setting sun, a contented sigh escapes your lips. On days like these, you could fully take in the beauty of the afternoon sky as you observe the shades of reds and golds dancing in the heavens.

“Then I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you to find my one true love.” You hum, biting back a laugh.

The dark-haired boy scoffs and stands up, walking towards you with his hands in his pockets. Half a smile graces his lips as he reaches for your waist, pulling you close. With the sort of tenderness he reserves just for you, Megumi rests his forehead against yours. He feels warm.

Megumi smells faintly of the earth—a product of the hours he spent sitting under the sun with you—along with a hint of the cool menthol shampoo he uses to wash his hair. And together, they create a blanket of comfort and familiarity, one that you’ve grown to call home. You breathe in.

“I won’t let you leave.” He mumbles, eyes fluttering shut. His palms feel comfortably warm on your waist; gentle and light, yet sure and heavy at the same time.

There’s a playful sparkle in your eyes as your lips curl up into a smile. “I know you won’t.”

per·en·ni·al /pəˈrenēəl/

(n.) a perennial plant

(adj.) lasting or existing for a long or apparently infinite time; enduring or continually recurring.

a/n: as always, reblogs are highly appreciated! please let me know what you think of this fic, i always love hearing from you all! also: yes, there’s another flower symbolism in this piece lol <3

-> writing masterlist | taglist is in the comments

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #megumi x you #fushiguro megumi #jjk imagines #❀ —𝐁𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄

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brugioshi · 3 years

Text

Let’s talk about Pannacotta Fugo.

[read as Twitter thread]

I’ve talked about how I relate to him as a rich kid, poor adult. And that’s not nothing; there are few characters, and even fewer real people, that fit that demographic. But there’s so much to be said about his relatability as a victim of sexual trauma.

But first, let’s back up. Although most of us didn’t have as extreme a reaction to parental pressure as Fugo, it is incredible how deeply damaging parental ambition-by-proxy can be.

Let’s get this out of the way: attempted sexual violence is sexual violence in and of itself. Obviously. It’s traumatizing on its own. There are some people who take the opposite opinion and say things like “women can protect themselves from r-pe if they carry a gun.”

So I guess I’m obligated to point out that it’s actually not okay for people to be put into that situation to begin with.

But let’s expound on what actually happens when someone defends themselves against an assailant.

They’re put into a situation where not only have they been sexually victimized, they’ve killed another human being. You don’t walk away from that emotionally, and you don’t walk away from that legally.

Fugo is a very small child who has been forced into higher education, generally not a great way to thrive socially. He’s already isolated. Then someone comes along who is older, who has immense power over him, and who is larger in stature.

I don’t know about you, but until I was proven wrong, it even seemed like the slight young boy might be physically weaker than the assailant. It hardly matters; he was cornered. It was do or die.

It’s shocking, but not exactly surprising: when people defend themselves against r-pists, the law is often harder on them than the perpetrator. If it weren’t for his privilege, he canonically would have been incarcerated.

Fugo is also victim-blamed in a way that requires jumping through ridiculous logical hurdles. I won’t even rehash it, it’s too absurd and upsetting. You remember what people whispered when he was led away in handcuffs.

So let’s get to his stand. Other than Giorno, it would appear that the famiglia acquired their stands through Polpo’s lighter test. So Fugo has this experience behind him at the time that he acquires a stand.

I wonder if victims of sexual violence ever desire a stand that prevents their future victimization…

(Sarcasm aside, I hadn’t considered the origins of Fugo’s stand until after I wrote this.)

So what kind of person manifests a viral, flesh-eating stand that can only be survived if one stays the fuck away?

I was once bewildered by this question. Purple Haze seemed oddly ruthless for an ally’s stand. But it’s not exactly strange considering Fugo’s backstory, is it?

You see the implication. You understand why a victim of sexual violence would want exactly that kind of stand. You probably even get why they wouldn’t feel especially guilty protecting their autonomy using extremely grisly means.

But here’s something else that confused me about Fugo at first: why is he such a dick to Narancia?

For one thing, I think those of us whose parents had less than ideal methods carry some of those traits with us as we grow up. I wouldn’t be surprised if Fugo’s parents spoke to him exactly like this at one point.

But more to the point, I think that a lot of us with PTSD can relate to Fugo here. Pathological trauma is, well, pathological. It’s not reasonable. Some respond by being outright verbally abusive like Fugo.

Others simply create an aura around themselves to indicate that everyone should please stay the fuck away.

This last quality, for me personally, isn’t intrinsically tied to sexual victimization (though it sure as fuck can be for others.) We all probably judged Fugo to some extent when he didn’t join the famiglia in committing treason. I sure did, and I still do.

But if I’m being completely self-aware, I have a strong sense of self-preservation. For example: pain is our main tool in self-preservation, and I have a deep primal urge to diagnose the cause of pain and treat it as quickly as humanly possible.

When I rewatch that scene, it becomes clear that Fugo isn’t choosing to stay behind out of some kind of ideal, loyalty, or comfort with the status quo. All he talks about is his desire to not die. He is baffled that not dying isn’t the #1 priority to everyone else as well.

And even those of us who would’ve chosen differently at least relate to that on some level.

#pannacotta fugo #vento aureo #jjba #jojo part 5 #bucci gang #passione clan #golden wind

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genshin-scenarios · 3 years

Text

With an Adeptus!Reader...

A/N: Warning for spoilers of their backstories and Liyue's archon quest!

Characters: Zhongli, Xiao, Venti

Considering the hardships you went through before becoming an adeptus, Zhongli didn’t want to tie you to him with a contract; Liyue wasn’t in need of new warriors, and he was no longer leading the nation as Morax. Immortality erodes the spirit and memory, and with time comes a loneliness that can be hard to bear - thus Zhongli approached you with concern when he found out about your change.

What he hadn’t expected was for you to greet him with a smile and lighthearted conversation (it’s something he infinitely admires you for, really). Zhongli answers your questions pertaining his experience as an adeptus patiently, observing your reactions and body language to try and gauge if you're alright.

...You were a bit nervous about this transition though, and so Zhongli gives you a soft smile and places a reassuring hand on yours. Whenever you need him, don’t hesitate to reach out. He'd be more than willing to support you and listen when you have something to get off your chest. As both an experienced adeptus and friend, he’d like to be someone you can rely on.

The talk ends with you finally dropping your strong front and laying in his arms (it’s not as if he couldn’t see right through you anyways, though Zhongli knew better than to poke at it while you were coming to terms with becoming an adeptus.)

You still joked around even even as he was running his fingers through your hair (a calming motion), so at least that told him that you were fine. Zhongli can't help but chuckle when you point out that you match with him a little now, with your extra appendages/markings on your skin.

“You’d already brought light into my life when you were mortal.” Zhongli would remind you. “I will never lose sight of how our story began, nor take the rest of the time we have for granted.”

You’d laugh fondly, regarding him with a gentle gaze. “I thought you wanted to end this on a light note?”

“What could be lighter than the happiness you give me?”

Oh? “In that case, I’d have to thank you as well for painting my days in gold. Not just as Morax, but Zhongli as well.”

You’ve fought by Xiao’s side so many times that he could trace your movements as if they were his own. You weren’t from his generation of yakshas, but your purpose and combat prowess was something that he could comfortably rely on. He was proud to be able to say that you were comrades (and friends, and maybe a little bit more - Xiao was always cute when you teased him about that)

Like Madam Ping, you’ve opted to live amongst mortals to understand how to better support them in other ways. It’s quite a curious life you live, playing as a citizen by day and leaving for ‘work’ whenever needed, departing with a mysterious smile when asked about it.

Neither side of you was more ‘real’ than the other; as a citizen it was relaxing to indulge in mortal pastimes and learn to cook (regardless if you were very good at it), while traversing the land you love as an adeptus felt freeing, and battles always did give you a sense of purpose as it was something you’ve done for so long.

Though it’s always more fun when you can share the weight of a fight with Xiao - it’s nice how neither of you have to hold back in fear of hurting each other, and you share a familiar understanding that surpasses friendship, carefully built over time together.

Since he's so used to your presence, it sometimes surprises other people how casually he interacts with you (or even knows your habits/quirks), but you enjoy that little privilege that comes with your relationship. After all, once you've bonded on the battlefield for centuries, it's hard to call the other an acquaintance, right? It's not like it isn't mutual either~

“Hey, don’t forget that you can call my name too.” You nudged Xiao. “I’d never be late to a friend in need.”

He eyed the almond tofu that you’d abandoned for the sake of talking. “And have to argue about food with you after every patrol?”

“I said I’d cook!” You huffed. “You’re just stubborn. Eat more almond tofu and your muscles will become as soft as one.”

Xiao swiped your bowl from you, earning a yelp of protest. He wore the slightest of smirks as he finished it. “You said you wanted ‘real’ food. We can order more from downstairs.”

The first time he met you, Venti was only vaguely aware of you being an adeptus. He was visiting Liyue to have a drink with Morax but got a little lost (or so he said). He learn later that you were indeed in allegiance with the Geo Archon, though your contract was looser than the others as it was to look after Liyue’s people in general (the methods would be however you saw fit, and evolved as they did.)

“What a shame… You really signed your free time off to serve that blockhead, huh?” While you knew he was joking, you’d always wondered what he meant when he said it was a shame… You sometimes ponder this as you’re reminded of him, be it through the greeting of a breeze or singing of the birds.

Sometimes you’d visit Mondstadt during a mission, after which you would be invited by a certain bard to stay a bit longer, be it for some food or to catch the sight of the sunset from a different nation (Venti was always good at finding reasons to spend time together)

After Morax stepped down, Venti came to Liyue to check on you - he was aware of how the adepti respected and cherished his old friend, and offered his company as comfort. He’d sing, play the lyre or flute, or whatever that made you feel better. While he may joke about it, he really does admire your dedication to Liyue.

You laughed as a familiar pair of arms wrapped around your shoulders from behind. Venti’s greeting was cheerful as ever as your name rolled off his tongue. No matter how many times this has happened, it never stopped your heart from skipping.

“Aren’t you ever worried we’d fall over when you jump on me like that?” You turned to look at him.

“Well, I know my brave warrior is strong enough to catch me!” Venti winked. “And if not, the wind will save us!”

Always a charmer, huh? You’re reminded of a past conversation as he took your hand and started leading you away, telling you something about the Windblume preparations for this year.

‘Sometimes I wish we could stay like this forever.’

‘In that case, might we form a little contract for ourselves? I’ll promise you my forever if you do the same.'

#I kind of compiled these requests together and might do the same for some others 🙏#hope thats alright!#traveler wishes #soft dreams #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #gi xiao x reader #gi venti x reader #gi zhongli x reader #xiao genimp #venti genimp #zhongli genimp #genshin reader insert #genshin x you

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angrelysimpping · 3 years

Note

Following from that previous one, could we have the LIs dealing with a pregnant PC??

If I misspelled pregnant, no I didn’t, you saw nothing.

(DoL relationships, so much pregnancy talk, pregnancy sex)

Alex

This is not the first pregnancy that Alex has helped someone through. He has helped out sisters during their pregnancies. He is more accustomed to taking care of pregnant animals, though.

It can get boring on the farm when you’re used to a bunch of physical activity and now you can’t do everything you used to. Alex goes out of his way to make sure that you don’t feel useless now that you have to do lighter work.

Will try to go to every doctor's appointment with you. He wants to be in the room with you at all your appointments.

Alex is a little afraid to have sex with you. He knows that sometimes he gets a bit carried away. You both enjoy messing around in the field or a quick fuck in the shower, but that can’t be safe when you’re pregnant. Wait, is it safe to have sex with you at all when you’re pregnant?

Alex was homeschooled. He knows a lot about the mating cycle of farm animals. He knows the basics of human reproduction. His ‘sex ed’ classes weren’t the most educational experience. He’s never questioned if it was safe to have sex with a pregnant person. He sure wasn’t going to ask his parents about it.

During your pregnancy, Alex is more likely to satisfy any urges he has by himself. If he needs you, he’s asking you to just jack him off.

If you want Alex to fuck you, you’re going to have to start things. Alex is wary of penetrative sex but if you insist that it’s okay, he’ll do it. Only in the cottage though! Treats you like glass.

Adamant that you keep a few dogs with you at all times for safety, in case Remy shows up.

Avery

Calm and collected. Around you, anyway.

Avery has spent a few late nights worrying.

Will people judge him for having a child with someone who is so much younger than him? Will there be complications to the pregnancy considering the age gap? You’re an orphan, what if there are underlying genetic issues that neither of you knows about?

Insists you move in with him immediately. Either move in with them or into an apartment they pay for so they can keep tabs on you.

Takes you out of town for doctor’s appointments. Avery only wants the best and there's a much better hospital a few towns over.

Well aware that he can still have sex with you while you're pregnant. Avery’s not much different sex-wise seeing as he's usually not too aggressive.

You can get away with being more flippant with Avery because of your pregnancy. Blame it on the hormones. He'll let a lot of shit slide but if you push him too hard, you will end up pressed face down in his bed.

Eden

Becomes so unbearably protective and possessive of you.

Straight up revokes your town privileges. If you want to go to town, you're going with him. It's not that he doesn't trust you at this point in your relationship, he doesn't trust other people.

You will have to convince Eden that you need to go to doctor visits. He'll walk you to and from your visits, hanging out at the edge of the woods while you're in the hospital.

He seems almost angry that you're pregnant, but it's just stress. He's worried.

Is it weird that he wants to help you bathe? Usually, you guys bathe together but it's hard to do the further into your pregnancy you get. He wants to make sure you don't somehow get hurt when he's not there to help you.

If he's hunting, you're in the cabin. No ifs, ands, or buts.

Isn't sure if he can fuck you while pregnant but wants to. All it takes is one okay from you and he's ready to go.

Eden knows he's not the most gentle of lovers, but he tries. He'll let you top, he'll get extra pillows on his supply runs, he'll go slow, anything as long as he can still get inside you.

He's making the baby's crib by hand.

Kylar

So ecstatic.

Kylar has done a lot of research on pregnancy. He actually rivals most of the doctors in town with his knowledge.

Kylar becomes more clingy, he doesn't want you out of his sight.

Goes to every single doctor’s appointment with you. Kylar is taking notes the whole time.

Kylar has a whole sketchbook dedicated just to drawings of you while you're pregnant. He didn’t think you could get more beautiful, yet here you are, proving him wrong.

There are also sketches of what he thinks your child might look like. All the drawings favor your features over his.

Kylar is a little bit worried that he won't be able to love his child as much as he loves you. He's going to spend some late nights panicking over it. You'll have to calm him down. The fact that he's even worried about this is proof enough that he'll be a good dad.

Kylar has done so much research on pregnancy that he knows that it’s safe to have sex with you but he’s still worried.

If you want to have sex, Kylar will ask if it’s okay if he just gives you head or gets you off with his hands.

If you insist on penetrative sex, Kylar is asking if you’re okay every few thrusts.

Kylar can still get jealous while you’re pregnant, but it's easier to calm him down. Seeing you put a hand on your stomach will calm him. It doesn't matter if you’re not even showing yet, if you only just found out you were pregnant, it works.

Kylar is already clingy but when you’re pregnant a lot of his focus goes to your stomach. Expect a lot of caresses and kisses on your tummy. Hope you’re not ticklish.

The closer you are to your due date, the less likely Kylar is to let you leave the house.

Robin

Panicking 24/7

Robin wants to make everything as easy on you as possible.

It doesn't matter if you just found out you're pregnant, Robin is acting like you're a week away from delivery. It can be annoying, but his heart is in the right place.

Starts doing research immediately on pregnancy. He'll share little tidbits of information that he thinks you might find useful. Most of it is information that you, as a person who can get pregnant, already know. If you mention that to him, he'll try harder to find something that will be useful to you.

Try to satisfy every single pregnancy craving you have, no matter how wild.

Walking you to and from every doctor's appointment. He'll come in with you if you ask him to.

Worried about hurting you during sex. He's all about getting you off but the moment you try to return the favor he freezes. Robin is insisting that you don’t have to do that, even if you’re offering to get him off with your hands or mouth. The closest he'll get to penetrative sex while you’re pregnant is thigh fucking.

Whitney

Whitney is going to disappear for a few days while he sorts out his feelings.

When he shows back up, he’s way more possessive than normal.

If you're going to have his kid, he needs to keep a better eye on you. He doesn’t want your sluttiness to somehow fuck up the kid before it’s even born.

Being pregnant does not stop Whitney's harassment of you. He's less likely to physically hurt you. He's still dragging you into bathroom stalls to fuck during school hours and demanding you strip in the halls.

He actually asks you to strip more often as your pregnancy progresses, wanting to show off how pregnant you are. He wants everyone to know he knocked you up.

A little accommodating with pregnancy-related issues. Whitney might help with cravings, depending on how easy they are to satisfy. He's not going to doctor visits with you, but he is hanging out in the park around the time the appointment should end.

Whitney tries to cut down on smoking around you. Not for any reason. Not because it's bad for an unborn baby or anything.

Still wants to have sex at every available opportunity. Whitney is more gentle during sex while your pregnant, but not by much. He lets you sit on something instead of getting on your knees during oral. Tries not to lose himself, too not fuck into you too hard, though he still does. He won't apologize, verbally, anyway. He'll stick around longer, holding you against him and rubbing your back or head.

Very much wants to send you into Harper's office full of his cum at least once.

#degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity alex #degrees of lewdity avery #degrees of lewdity eden #degrees of lewdity kylar #degrees of lewdity robin #degrees of lewdity whitney #pregnancy #pregnancy sex #my writing #Whitney the Bully #Avery the Businessperson #Alex the Farmhand #Robin the Orphan #Eden the Hunter #Kylar the Loner

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rpmemesbyarat · 2 years

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Today is a rant about what deconstruction means, and what it DOESN’T mean. Deconstruction DOESN’T mean making a “dark version” of a trope. It means, in the context of media tropes, to play out whatever trope is in question in the most realistic way possible, and showcase what results. Those results usually are darker or at least more serious than the trope is usually played, but just hurling a bunch of grimdark into a lighter setting doesn’t make it a deconstruction, just dark. Let’s use an example. A common fantasy trope is the hero, despite having grown up a commoner, ascending to the throne by the end of the book. Sometimes it’s because he accomplishes some task that, while impressive, really has nothing to do with how fit he is to be king. Sometimes he marries a princess, usually the one he rescued. Sometimes he finds out he was actually of royal descent all along and is the true heir to the throne. However it happened, a young man of no noble background ---and thus, no training in politics or understanding of how things work in court---is now running things. What happens next? The assumption at the end of these stories is that everything will go perfectly right because he’s a good guy. A deconstruction, however, would examine the number of things that could realistically go wrong in putting someone with no experience or understanding of politics on the throne. For instance, heroes are typically quite sympathetic towards the peasantry. He’s probably going to immediately lower taxes or perhaps do away with taxes on the poor altogether, and began spending from the royal treasury to help build them homes, feed them, pay their medical bills, etc. And if the kingdom is rich enough, this might not be a problem. But there’s a reason for taxes, and it wasn’t just making the king’s wallet fat. See, there’s a common misconception that a king could just say “do this” and it would be done Because He Is King. That’s not actually true. Soldiers need to be paid (and fed) in order for there to be a standing army (not to mention maintaining the horses, making and repairing weapons and armor, etc), civil servants need to be paid to do their jobs, and the people who are going to build those houses for the poor and grow food for them and tend to their medical needs are all also going to need to be paid. Kings who say “just do this because I say so for no payment” tend not to last. So, our young hero decides, let’s tax the rich more! Tax those snotty stuck-up nobles, they have too much money anyway! And you know what, he’s probably right. Believe me guys, I am all for taxing the rich to support the poor, this is not a rant against THAT. But it is an examination of the realistic consequences for what happens if our hero does that, which is that the nobles start getting pissed at him. And a lot can go wrong for a king when that happens, and the skills that were useful for him as a hero can’t really help with it. Yes, he may be able to swing his sword if they try an assassination, but what does he do if they merely withdraw their support? Remember, in the European feudal system (which these sorts of fantasies tend to be based on) nobles made it possible for the king to control the amount of land and people that he did. Each noble operated a particular portion of the kingdom, overseeing and governing it, in exchange for the power the nobles got over the local population. Nobles pledged their loyalty to the king and fought for him because he gave them these privileges; if the king begins to take these privileges and control away, their loyalty may be retracted in kind. Kings also frequently needed to borrow money from nobles for various reasons---maintaining an army was a common one---and could even go into debt to them, causing more problems. He OWES these guys now! And if he doesn’t keep them happy, they’re not going to be inclined to let him borrow from them again, which could be very dangerous if a war starts. . .which it just might, if neighboring countries start getting wind of all this. And that’s just ONE issue. What about him simply not knowing how things work, how laws are passed, who’s in charge of what, and basic court etiquette? How about knowing how to negotiate with foreign dignitaries or settle domestic disputes? How about--- The point of this work, if it were a book or a show, shouldn’t be “the feudal system was right actually, tax those peasants” or “nobodies should never become kings because they don’t know how to do it” it should be “let’s look at what realistic difficulties someone would face in this situation instead of just assuming everything would go swimmingly because our hero is a good guy, and how he navigates those difficulties” and making a story out of that. And probably a very interesting story! It is certainly more serious and down to the earth than the typical “happily ever after” but that doesn’t mean it’s a downer either, just a more thorough exploration of how someone could actually change the system from inside, and how there’s more to it than just getting the “right guy” in charge. Whereas if you just made it “dark” it would probably be that he’s either murdered immediately by his political rivals, or effortlessly manipulated by his courtiers into being a worse tyrant than the previous king, or becomes a worse tyrant by his own choice because he gets high on his own power. Which, yes, all COULD happen, but they don’t HAVE to in order to be a deconstruction, and to be honest, I think the first example is a better story---our hero keeps his good goals and good intentions, but is now in a situation where all the heroic skills that got him here are pretty much useless, and he has to learn how to make a difference here without also getting deposed, because if he’s kicked off the throne everything will go back to the status quo. It becomes a very fine line to walk, and a very interesting read, more so (in my opinion) than ‘everything is perfect’ OR ‘everything is terrible’. It’s a whole new kind of adventure! And it CAN have a happy ending if you want, even if it’s not a perfect “now everything is fixed forever” one. Maybe he manages some changes that pave the way for more in future generations, eventually leading to the abolishment of the monarchy and peerage and a whole new system that, while also not without its flaws, is more fair. Again, many deconstructions ARE dark, because examining the realistic implications of something often does lead darker or at least less idealistic places. But just injecting a load of murder and violence and cynicism into a work doesn’t make it a deconstruction. It just makes it dark. Which, is fine too, if that’s what you intended. Dark fairytales, for instance, are very in-vogue and there’s a lot of great ones out there. Just, darkness alone does not make a deconstruction, so if that’s what you’re intending to do, you’re going to need to think less in terms of “how can I make this GRIM and GRITTY” and more “ok, how would this actually play out, realistically speaking?” and going from there. Here’s some more fantasy deconstruction ideas! - How well do Sleeping Beauty or Snow White actually get along with their new husband, whom they literally never met before they woke up locking lips with him? And why was his first inclination to kiss a seemingly dead girl? - The dragon plaguing the village has been slain! Only, removing an apex predator from an ecosystem tends to have big consequences. Like maybe the deer population that the dragon was eating in addition to livestock and maidens is now out of control, and eating the crops. So the villagers kill them, but now the wolf population, which had also increased due to having more deer to eat, are left hungry, and the livestock starts looking pretty good to them too. So they kill the wolves, and round and round things go. . . - In a lot of fantasy, all dwarves are miners. That’s all they do. Dig dig dig for gold and jewels, no dwarf does anything else ever. Ok. Where does the food come from, then, since they don’t hunt or farm? Maybe they’re bartering for it with the gold and jewels they mine. Ok. So who’s cooking it? Well, maybe they pay someone who isn’t a dwarf to do that. And who makes their clothing and where do they get the materials for it? Maybe it’s the same answer, they pay someone. Maybe the reason that it seems all they do is mine ISN’T because every single member of this sentient species is exactly the same and has the same passions and talents, but because the rocky mountain tunnels that are their natural habitat is not conducive to growing or finding food to eat, or growing the fibers needed to make clothes, etc, so they’ve evolved a society that is largely reliant on bartering with other cultures for what they need, and in order to keep that going so they aren’t forced to leave their ancestral home, they NEED to keep mining the gold and jewels that others value, they’re NOT just obsessively greedy because that’s Just How They Are. This idea is not dark and cynical, but it IS still a deconstruction; it takes a commonly accepted trope, asks “why?” and “how would this actually work though?”, and then comes up with realistic answers! As a bonus, this fleshes out the worldbuilding, AND helps avoid some Unfortunate Implications that tend to come with painting fantasy races as monolithic in their culture and mentality (all dwarves are miners, all elves are artsy nature-lovers, all orcs are warrior brutes, etc) Also HERE is a video about deconstruction, both what it is and isn’t, using anime examples!

#writeblr #writing tip #writing tips #writing advice #deconstruction

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wannabe-fic-writer · 3 years

Text

Moment In Time

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Just when you've gotten out, you’re given a reason to come back.

Warnings: Might be some mild language.

Chapter 2

* * * * * * *

“Oh no one is judging you ya big doofus.” You trail a finger along the shiny metal surface, looking at your tinted and distorted reflection.“ Just think it’s a little unnecessary.” Looking up at Tony, you smile.

His brown eyes roll, a hand grabbing onto the roof of the sports car to assist in pulling himself out.“ There’s nothing unnecessary about having options.”

A snort of a laugh falls from your lips as you walk to the next car.“ Yeah sure. If that’s what you want to call this.”

“Half of these aren’t even mine.” He defends himself, hanging the keys up along with the other sets.

Pursing your lips you point to the car you’re in front of,“ who does this belong to then?”

“Natasha.” He answers, taking far too much delight in the way your challengingly cocky attitude drops.

So you decided to hang out for a while, see a couple floors and let Tony explain some things to you as he liked to do, then head home. But you’d found a reason to stick around. Or, better put, Tony found reasons for you to stick around.

You’d go to a floor, take in the sights, the tech, and listen to the man ramble on about the functionality of the floor. Around floor five you were ready to head out but Tony claimed you couldn’t see the medical floor and not go to the labs. And you couldn’t see the labs without seeing his workshop.

This reasoning went on and on until you found yourself in the garage. The sun had set a few hours ago, lights automatically flicked on inside the tower and the seemingly day to day sounds of the tower went away.

It’s quiet now, save for you and Tony talking and him occasionally starting up the cars.

You can’t lie and say you don’t enjoy hanging out with Tony. You’d always enjoyed your time with him, his actions and ideas unpredictable and so genius from the moment he learned to talk. But you also can’t lie and say you weren’t getting tired. A low, dull, rumbling started in your stomach not too long ago from the lack of food since this morning.

Making a bit of a show of looking at the last car, a sleep silver Audi that you know belongs to Tony, you check out the interior and make comments on the exterior. Then over exaggeratedly, you yawn and stretch your arms out.

“Alright T. It’s gettin late. Think it’s about time I head home.” You tell him, walking over and gently dropping your hand onto his shoulder.

He chuckles softly,“ Y/n, what kind of friend would I be if I let you go all the way back to Brooklyn while you’re tired and clearly hungry?” He pats your hand on his shoulder,“ you know Maria didn’t raise me that way.”

It takes every ounce of willpower to not toss him somewhere so you could leave. But you know it’s been some time since you and Tony actually hung out and while he definitely has some ulterior motive to this, his persistence gave it away, you oblige him. Your reasoning is that you know the food will be good.

What you aren’t expecting, however, is to find the entirety of the Avengers sitting around the living room on the main floor. Unlike the other floors that were quiet, a low chatter fills the space and a clanking of cutlery to ceramic plates.

With Tony’s arm around your shoulders, you’re guided to the tables lined with food that looks delicious. Tony obviously has some private chefs around here.

“Um, am I crashing some type of party or bonding time?” You ask him as he starts to pile food onto his plate.

“No,” he smacks his lips and waves you off,“ not really. We just eat together. Cap says it strengthens the team and all and I pay for the food so everyone comes. I’m sure they’ll be glad to have you.” With an almost devilish smile, he puts a bread roll on his plate and turns away.

Your narrowed eyes follow his retreating form. Sighing and shaking your head, you grab a plate, put a little of everything on it, then head over to the unoccupied bar.

Before you sit down to eat, you grab one of Tony’s expensive bottles of liquor off the top shelf. Pouring yourself a glass, you walk around the bar, catching the eyes of a couple members of the team before you sit down.

As you eat and drink, the laughter and banter of the team behind you erasing the silence of the room, you can’t help but remember the numerous times you’d had the privilege of being around your friends like that.

* * * * Flashback * * * *

With a friendly smile you push your chair out and stand up, walking over to the kitchen doorway. Reaching forward you grab the glass dish from the woman’s hands.

“Careful it’s-”

You nod and smile,“ I know. I’m fine.”

Marie’s eyes squint at you and she nods in understanding as she remembers. Patting your arm she turns back to the kitchen right before Jarvis comes out and follows you to the table.

Whispering a quiet ‘excuse me’ to Ana, you reach around her to place the dish on the table, then refind your seat across from her. The second your butt touches the seat two sets of eyes are on you.

“Y/n please tell this buffoon how ludicrous his invention sounds.” The angelically accented voice of your close friends says. You swear you can feel her gaze burning into your temple.

You look over at her, opening your mouth to speak when Howard cuts in.

“No Y/nn, tell Margaret that this is genius. It’s revolutionary!” He exclaims and your eyes widen a little.

Face morphing into an expression of offense, Peggy turns to look at Howard and they start bickering again.

Smiling amusedly, you lean back into the chair, making eye contact with Jarvis’ wife An from across the table.

Both of you shake your heads, An chuckling softly just before Jarvis comes to sit beside her.

“Howard,” the man looks up at the stern but sweet tone of his wife.“ That’s enough honey.” She gives a smile that matches the sweetness of her tone.

The Brit beside you snickers and you lightly smack the side of her leg with the bag of your hand, muttering a quiet,“ relax.” Which results in her huffing and crossing her arms, sending a glare at Howard that she fixes just as Marie sits down across from her.

Despite having been bickering since long before now, the Agent and Philanthropist waste no time in playing nice over dinner. Alongside them, Marie, An, Jarvis, and yourself have one of many very entertaining dinners. Laughs exchanged between all of you.

* * * * Flashback End * * * *

You’re yanked from the memory when a heavy weight lands on your shoulder.

Tensing up, you prepare yourself to fight whoever it is but you quickly remember that you’re in the Avengers tower with earth’s mightiest heroes. The chances of this being an attack are slim.

Still slightly tense, you look over your shoulder at the owner of the hand on your body. To find America’s golden boy looking down at you.

“Everything alright?” He asks, seemingly concerned. .

You give him a small smile and chuckle softly,“ all good Captain.” You give a playfully mocking salute and he sighs instantly afterwards.

Walking around the bar, he leans on top of it with his fingers laced in front of him.“ Listen I- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did on the jet earlier.”

“That’s one way to put it.” You take a bite of your food, staying silent until you swallow, then sipping your drink.“ We’re good. I know my unexpected bombing was, well, unexpected.” He chuckles lightly at your words and shakes his head.

When he reaches up to almost nervously rub the back of his neck, you know he isn’t completely sure that everything is good.

“Have a drink with me Cap.” You tell him, nodding to the shelf of alcohol behind him.

Looking from you to the drinks, he nods.“ You can call me Steve.” He tells you, putting some ice in his glass then pouring his drink.

“Well Steve,” you raise your glass to him and he gently taps his against yours.“ Feel free to call me Y/n.” You tell him, sipping your drink.

He smiles softly at you, your invitation seemingly having done the job of calming his nerves slightly. Light conversation flows between the two of you, a back and forth of questions that answers don’t hold much consequence but still shed some light on the types of people yourself and Steve are.

By the time the sun has disappeared beyond the horizon and the sky is littered with stars and the lights of every skyscraper you and Steve are well through one of Tony’s more expensive bottles of liquor. Loud laughs sound from the two of you as you joke with one another.

While the alcohol doesn’t affect either of your systems as it would someone else, the other occupants of the living space would assume you were drunk.

It intrigued more than a few of them how loose and easy going Steve is. It wasn’t as if he never had fun with them or drank, but there seemed to be something about you that brought an even lighter aura to the older man.

“It was incredible. I’m telling you,” you shake your head with a small smile of excitement.“ I wasn’t inclined to be excited about it since I was there to see the Yankees kick ass, but the Dodgers played exceptionally well.”

Steve has a small smirk on his face, nodding approvingly as he sips his drink.“ Well I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Once again you laugh, finishing your drink and leaning off of the bar top.“ Ever proud, Mister America.” You say teasingly, bringing yet another laugh from the tall blonde.

He finishes off his drink and you take a deep breath and release it.“ Welp Cap,” pushing up out of your chair, you smile at him,“ it was a pleasure chatting with you. Ever want to talk about the good ole days-”

“I’ll give you a ring.” He holds his hand out to you and you shake it firmly.

As you take up the glasses and your plate you nod a goodbye to Steve and go your separate ways, you to the kitchen and Steve to the elevators.

Setting the dishes in the sink, you turn the water on and lean against the counter as you wait for it to get hot. Just before your mind can begin to wander you catch sight of movement in your peripherals.

A smirk almost instantly pulls onto your face at the sight of the red head walking in. Her green eyes are already trained on you with a look in them that you can’t describe.

“Agent Romanoff,” you nod to her, smirk still in place.

She takes small purposeful steps closer, stopping a few feet away from you,“ you lied to us. Member of SHIELD for a while?” She raises her eyebrows and shakes her head with an overly sweet smirk,“ you founded SHIELD.”

You hiss in a breath of air through your teeth, turning to face away from her as you chuckle.“ I didn’t lie, actually. Withholding all of the truth is a different thing.” Drying the plates off, you set them on the rack to dry, the forks and cups following afterwards.“ And let’s make something very clear, I am not a founder of SHIELD.” You dry your hands and turn to her.

“Really? Cause SHIELD records say otherwise” She reasons, stepping closer.

Eyebrows raising at her further approach, you do the same. You smile softly at her and close the distance between you two, leaving just under a foot of space.“ I understand you aren’t happy with the redacted details of my history Agent Romanoff so let me clear it up for you.”

Natasha tilts her head at your words and listens intently as you continue.“ I didn’t found SHIELD. I was the first ever agent. Agent Carter and Howard Stark saved me and administered me an enhanced version of the same serum Steve took. I owed them my life and I made sure to protect them,” you falter at that, jaw clenching as a horrible memory flashes through your mind.

“That’s how you met Tony?” She asks. It wasn’t missed by Natasha. The ex-assassin could read anyone. The second she noticed the distant look in your eyes she knew something was wrong and while she was curious, something told her not to ask about that.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts and look at her.“ Was in the hospital the night he was born. Watched him grow up.” You smile fondly,“ he’s family.”

For a moment it’s quiet. Still you watch Natasha, unsure if she’s finished or not. Just when you think she’s done, you nod and head towards the door, only to stop when she speaks.

“Why did you come for us?”

Turning from the door, you look over your shoulder at her,“ I owed Nick a favor.”

Her eyes narrow at you and you give a small nod before leaving out.

Neither you or Natasha would’ve guessed that would be your last conversation for the span of the next week. While you were at the tower a few times, to drop off something you’d talked about with Steve or pick up Tony before the two of you went and hung out somewhere, you hadn’t gone inside.

She wouldn’t admit it to you but Natasha had started to wonder when you’d come back. Not only does your reputation precede itself, something about your personality intrigues her more than she’d ever been before. She wanted to see you again, talk to you again.

Green eyes look through the clear blue glass, brows slightly pinched together at the sight of you and Tony hugging. Natasha debated with herself whether or not she was going to go speak to you as Steve jogged out of the front doors and over to you, sharing a handshake and a hug.

The last thing the ex-assassin expects to feel is the little flutter in her stomach when you smile brightly.

She tears her gaze away from you, frown deeper than before. Her thoughts running a mile a minute.

When a weight drops onto her shoulder she almost flinches. Grabbing the hand on her, she twists it and forces the person to stand in front of her, slamming them into the window.

“Well damn.” You curse, using your hand on the window to push yourself off the window. A chuckle falls from your lips as Natasha let’s you go.“ Guess it wasn’t a good idea to approach a trained agent without speaking.” You say jokingly, green eyes snapping down to the smile on your lips and back up.

There’s an incredibly short pause from Natasha before she channels her usually straight expression.“ What’d you want Y/Ln?”

“How bout a smile Romanoff.” When a beat passes without her expression changing you sigh.“ I want a cup of coffee. And I want you to come get one with me.”

“Come again?” Her expression cracks slightly as her eyebrows raise slightly.

You tilt your head and smile softly at her.“ You were practically shooting lasers at me through the window. Figured either you wanted to get out of the tower or you were jealous Tony and Steve were taking up all my time.” A teasing tone wraps around all your words and Natasha instantly scoffs.

“I have no reason to be jealous of Stark or Rogers.” She says and you nod.

“I figured as much. Which means you want to get out of the tower.” You nod for her to follow you.“ Cup of coffee does everyone some good.”

Natasha watches the confident stride you make towards the door, not once looking back as you just know she’s going to follow. And she does, despite her pride telling her not to.

The coffee shop isn’t too far away from the tower so you walk. Unlike your walks with Steve, it’s silent. The redhead stays two steps behind you, not saying a word as she follows.

A burst of cool air rushes past the two of you with your first step into the coffee shop to the sound of the bell jingling above you. Smiling softly at the familiar building you walk further in.

Natasha takes into account that there are no more than ten customers inside. For a New York coffee shop it was incredibly quiet and quaint.

“Love it here,” she hears you mumble as you step up to the counter.“ Hi, can I get one medium black coffee and a large iced coffee with two creams and two sugars.” The woman rings you up and you pay. Pocketing your wallet as you turn to face Natasha.

You smile at her lack of emotion. There is no reason for you to be as grumpy and blank as she is.“ I’ve been to a lot of places but here, they have the best coffee.” You tell her.

Her head tilts slightly and you purse your lips and nod. Once again it’s silent as you wait, then you grab the coffees when your name is called, turning to hand the black coffee to Natasha.

With things going the way they are, you have an internal battle on staying here or just going back to the tower. Taking one last chance, you nod to an empty table and sit down. Natasha coming over and sitting as well.

“Look, Natasha, you can’t hate me so much that we can’t even have a coffee together.” Your tone of voice is one of confusion and slight sadness.

Frowning once again at the emotions in your voice, Natasha watches you. Green, calculating eyes and a blank expression are the only signs of how hard she’s thinking right now.

With a huff of a sigh she says,“ I don’t hate you.” She admits, face finally giving way to emotion.“ I- I barely know you.”

“Well maybe we should change that.” Holding up your cup of coffee you take a sip and tell her,“ I think if you give me a chance, I might not be as bad as you think.”

Her eyes narrow and for the first time ever, you see her crack the smallest of smiles.“ We’ll see about that.”

* * * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife @yumusak-yastik

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x you #moment in time #reader insert

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