#I wish he would see this and realize how much i love him yet i am too far from being a lovable person

[dazai-ritualist]

Yan Alastor when he sees his kids arrive in hell? The family is soon to be back together again!!? I need some angst! The family drama is crazy, and im all for it.

Also i hope you’re doing okay! Sending you some supportive vibes!! Remember to take care of yourself and take breaks!

Ps: Al would totally forgive his daughter of his death and compliment her daughters aim.

STUCK WITH U?

[you should prob read the story first!]

— reunited with your children years after your death, something strange happened.

hello, nonnie!! im doing well as long as u guys r enjoying this story 🥰💕

beloved mother, wife, and daughter

resting beside her love, may her soul find his in the afterlife

if you tried to be optimistic, hell wasn’t so bad. you never had to worry much for the exterminations. nor, did you have to worry about being harassed on the streets of hell by various sinners. after all, alastor was there to protect you.

but despite that, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t tear you down to make you compliant.

you sat in a corner of alastor’s broadcast tower as he brutally tore apart another overlord. and as he went off the air, he turned to you. “are you enjoying yourself, my doe?” he asked. “i don’t understand why i have to be here…” you said, mentally hurling from his new pet name. “you’re so delicate, my love. one trip and you could break! i have to be there to make sure you’re well at all times.” he cooed to you. “stop patronizing me, alastor. i won’t let you take away my dignity.” you glared at him. “darling, i may not own your soul. but, you are still my wife. you are mine, understand?” he explained, walking to you.

you didn’t respond to him, refusing to let him degrade your self worth. to this, he grew angry— grabbing you by your jaw and scalp, his claws scratching against your porcelain skin, lovingly yet still rough, as if he thought it was for your own good. “i said, do you understand?”

his face came close to your’s as he kept a tight grip on your hair, waiting for your answer. your fight or flight response was sending signals and going haywire as you tried to pull away from his touch. “yes— gh, let go of me, alastor. please…” you begged as he finally let go. “good girl.”

and just then, an awfully convenient knock came from the door. a man with lamb-like features peered through the door. “and, who might you be?” alastor raised an eyebrow to the man. “so it’s true… d-dad..! it’s me!” the familiar voice said. could it be?

“noah— is that you..?” you asked. you hoped it wasn’t him, that he didn’t end up in hell. but at the same time, you wished to see your son one more time so badly. “momma, it’s me!” he smiled, hugging you and alastor tightly. “ah, my boy…” alastor sighed. “you’re so much older than your old man now, huh?” he remarked. but then, it hit you, he was dead.

“wh— dear, what happened, how did you die?” you asked. “killed in action, ma. guess i should’ve just retired already…” he joked. “oh, my son…” alastor grinned.

and things were normal— at least, as normal as they could be with your deranged husband. things stayed as they were for 13 years.

when rumor spread of a mysterious man-eating sinner— she uses them to build her power, and then she drops them like dirt trash. she’s amassed so much power, she’s certainly a threat to alastor’s power. if he couldn’t get rid of her, perhaps he could keep her under his thumb.

“well, how do you do, sweetheart? alastor, pleasure to meet you, quite the pleasure! this over here is my darling wife!” alastor introduced both him and yourself to the older woman with features that resembled a coyote. “alastor..? is that you, dad?” the honey-like voice asked.

alastor’s eyes had widened as he realized the woman in front of him. “little emi, is that you?” emilia reached out to hug the both of you. she aged beautifully, still as charming as she was the day you died.

“oh, my pretty girl, you’ve made quite the name for yourself down here in hell, hm?” alastor grinned at his daughter. “i learned from the best!” she laughed back.

and as they conversed, you felt like an odd man out. as if alastor was talking to his own clone. given, she is her father’s daughter after all.

“darling! our little emi is here, our little family is reunited at last.” alastor grinned to you. “this calls for a celebration, don’t you think? why don’t we have a special dinner tonight?” he suggested. by his tone, the only thing you could think of would be that he wants to have another sinner served on the dinner table. “i-i don’t know…” you shook your head in disagreement. “now don’t be such a negative nancy!” he laughed. “i’ll cook a feast tonight!” he declared, taking emilia to your home in hell.

and, just as you suspected, he served the flesh of a fellow overlord, fillet mignon style. “come now, dear, eat!” alastor said, encouraging you to take a bite. “no thank you… i’m not hungry.” you frowned, shaking your head. alastor looked frustrated as you denied him. “eat.” he said, shoving the meat into your mouth.

you felt sick. but, as he shoved it down your throat, you had no choice but to swallow. “delicious, isn’t it?” he asked. your stomach churned, the guilt settling in your gut. it tasted disgusting. but, as much as you wanted to protest, you were scared of what he’d do if you disagreed. “yes… it is— delicious.” he grinned. “lovely.”

and so, your family dynamic had returned to as it had 47 years ago. back to normal… that is, until that odd day.

you woke up in your bed, as per usual. and, there was a note where alastor should be. not that you weren’t grateful he wasn’t there though.

‘leaving for a sabbatical, you know overlord work! i’ll be home very soon, my doe. kisses and love.

~ A’

sabbatical, huh? he’ll be gone for quite a while, a year at most? and, without alastor, you’re free. it felt as if breathing fresh air for the first time. even if just for a year or so, you won’t have to be on his leash anymore. all would be well now, right?

right..?

but with your freedom, alastor’s protection was gone. sinners started to harass you. and without the company of emilia, you could do nothing but withstand it.

this is all apart of being free. might as well enjoy it until alastor returned, right? make the most of the year.

or, seven years.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #human alastor #alastor the radio demon #yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere

[nakunakunomi]

this is part of my drabble collection: The answer is love - Masterlist

Characters: Suguru Geto x GN reader Prompt: "why are you talking like we'll never see each other again?" Warnings: This one is a little sad / angsty [a/n]: I love Suguru so much, but I always struggle writing happy stuff for him. I have a more lighthearted thing coming up very soon though, but until then... enjoy <3

He had changed. Unmistakably so. The bags under his eyes, a trait you had always thought attractive, adding to his dark and mysterious charms, had become deeper, darker, a sign of constant exhaustion, of sleep forever lost, impossible to ever catch back up on.

He rarely smiled anymore, and when he did, it never reached his tired eyes anymore. It was just a way to pacify you, to make sure you didn’t insist a fourth time when you asked if he was really really doing okay. You knew he was lying still, but it was clear he didn’t want to talk about it. That he couldn’t really talk about it. 

Until today; he was about to leave for a mission, and you had wanted to go out for dinner together, a little distraction from all the bleakness and losses you had encountered the past few weeks. There was nothing you could do to truly fight the helplessness, feeling yourself buckle under the weight of the negative emotions, barely keeping your own head above water, how were you supposed to help your friend as well? 

But you could provide a little distraction, in the form of comforting dishes on the table for you to share. Silent comfort, except for the noises of your cutlery, and chopsticks accidentally bumping into each other as you both reach for a specific dumpling. A soft snicker. But no conversation. It was too hard, too much, and at the moment just unnecessary, cause there weren’t enough words in the world to translate your feelings into.

When the dishes were empty and you were preparing to say your goodbyes, he caught you off guard. 

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me”

 You blinked in surprise. Those were not the words you had expected him to say. You chuckled nervously, wondering why he suddenly said something like that. It sounded ominous, almost, like a final goodbye.  

"Why are you talking like we'll never see each other again?”

He only smiled in response. The first genuine smile you had seen him do in weeks and yet, it didn’t quite feel happy. It felt almost guilty. It reached his eyes, but his eyes spelled compassion, or even…pity? 

“Goodbye, y/n” 

No ‘I’ll see you later, or after this mission’, no ‘wish me luck’. Just…goodbye. 

You could only stand there silently as he turned around, reaching up a hand to give you a final wave, his back turned to you. While your chest tightened, you realized that your gut feeling was probably right, and this would have been the last time. 

#geto x reader #suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #reader insert #drabble #short #angst #2nd person pov #GN reader #romance

[airas-story]

I'm a sucker for angst ironstrange especially amnesia!Tony (and usually happy ending at the end) please make more lol <333

So this is a continuation of the Confabulation Complication. There will probably be either three or four parts depending on the route I take. We have not yet gotten out of the angst.

“Boss?” FRIDAY interrupted. “Miss Potts is requesting access.”

Tony glanced at the wall of windows. They were blacked out and he couldn’t see Pepper, but that meant that Pepper couldn’t see him either. “Tell her I’m busy.” And he was. He’d had FRIDAY gather all of the pertinent footage of the past five years and was skimming through it.

There was a possibility that he’d lost and confused memories from before then, but Tony could handle that later.

Things that had happened in the tower or the compound were easiest to find, followed by things that had happened while he was in his armor.

But there were far too many things that hadn’t happened in either of those situations. He was irritated to realize that he’d spent more time with Stephen—Strange? Tony wasn’t sure—in his sanctum than in Tony’s space. He had almost no data points to tell him how to react to Stephen.

Then again, Tony could just avoid being around Stephen. He could completely skip out on that particular complication.

He could just avoid everyone for that matter, because he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to be around most of them.

Some things he remembered weren’t too far off. He remembered JARVIS dying, he remembered Ultron. He very much did not remember Thor picking him up off the ground by his neck or Steve throwing his shield at Tony’s chest and sort of wished he didn’t know about either incident now.

“Boss,” FRIDAY said. “You’ve been in here for three days. Miss Potts is getting worried.”

“Tell her I’m fine. Just getting caught up on my past history.”

He’d watched the break up with Pepper first. The first one. It had been… well, it had been almost exactly as he remembered it. It left a sick feeling in his chest and he’d had FRIDAY give him a presentation of their relationship in the time since.

He’d analyzed the footage desperately. They were good together, right? Not perfect, but that was an entirely unrealistic expectation. But good. He glanced to the side where he’d saved the video of Pepper pulling him into his arms in the aftermath of Ultron and JARVIS. The compassion and love on her face was real and his own expression when he looked at her was somewhere between desperate love and aching need.

That was real.

He didn’t remember it, but it was real. It was good.

“Miss Potts suggested that you may have better luck talking it out with her.”

Tony shook his head immediately. He wasn’t ready to face her. She didn’t deserve to have to deal with a fiancé who didn’t even remember loving her. That was why he was doing this, so he could find the pieces of history that would show him how to love her again.

Or at least how to pretend until it was true.

Because it’d be true again, right? He’d fallen in love with her before, surely he’d fall in love with her again?

He had to. Because this was Pepper.

“Tell her I’ll see her soon,” he said.

He could tell FRIDAY didn’t like the answer, but he had no doubt that she passed it on.

He turned back to the footage of the past he only remembered distorted pieces of.

A spark of light to his left interrupted his scanning and Tony looked over to see a portal opening a few feet away.

Tony froze. The sight of a portal opening into his lab was familiar and the way his stomach flipped with pleasure was entirely instinctual. The nausea that followed was a more appropriate response. He very much did not want to deal with seeing Stephen. He couldn’t bring himself to react though as the portal opened and Stephen stepped through.

Tony’s averted his gaze immediately. He couldn’t look at Stephen. It’d just confuse him.

“What are you doing here?” Tony asked.

“Miss Potts called me,” Stephen said. “She asked me to come convince you out of your lab.”

Tony swallowed hard. Pepper played dirty. “Well, you tried. You failed, but you tried. You should probably head back out, now. Tell Pep I’ll be out once I’ve figured out—”

“You’re not going to get your memories back watching footage,” Stephen interrupted. “That’s not how it works.”

Tony clenched his jaw. “I’m not trying to get my memories back.” Not really, at least. His quick dive into confabulation had already told him it wouldn’t be that easy. Sure, he hoped it would spark something, bring back the memories that would make everything make sense again—not that he’d gotten lucky, yet. No, he wasn’t trying to get his memories back, but he could train himself off of the footage, could at least pretend to be the person people expected.

He’d always been good at that.

And hey, fake it til you make it. Tony’d always been good at that too.

It didn’t help much with Stephen, who Tony had abominably little footage of. From the corner of his eye he saw Stephen shift, moving closer.

Tony stiffened. 

“Tony, I know that you’re confused—”

“You don’t know anything, actually,” Tony retorted. “I’m fine. Give me a week and no one will be able to tell the difference.”

Stephen didn’t answer immediately; the silence was strangely alarming. “What is that supposed to mean, Tony?”

Tony waved at the footage. “I’m relearning what people expect to see. It won’t be—”

“Tony,” Stephen sounded vaguely horrified. “That’s not in any way healthy. Pretending to be someone you’re not—”

“Is what I’ve done most of my life,” Tony said shortly. “I know how to mask, Stephen. Now, you’ve tried your best, but I’m not in the mood to be convinced out of here.”

Stephen let out a tired sigh. “Tony. You’ve been in here three days. Your fiancé—” Tony flinched, ”—is worried about you. I, as your friend—“ Tony flinched again, “—am worried about you.”

“Yeah, well take your worry somewhere else. Like I said, a week, and then—”

“And are you going to do that with me?” Stephen demanded. “Is that all I’m going to get from you from now on? The person you think I expect to see?”

Tony whirled to face Stephen, frustration spiraling out. “What else am I supposed to do, Stephen? I don’t… I don’t even know if I really know you. The you I remember… The you I remember loved me.” God, why did everything have to go so wrong? “The you I remember would have kissed me in that hospital room, self-imposed rules about kissing be damned. The you I remember would…” He swallowed. “I don’t know if I even know you, yet. I remember kissing you. I remember teasing you whenever I managed to make you blush. I remember curling up with you in the sanctum and just… enjoying each other’s presence as though we didn’t need anything from each other but each other. And that’s all a… that’s all a lie. I don’t… I don’t know you.”

And it hurt. It hurt that Tony had versions of a life that didn’t exist inside his head. It hurt that he wanted it so much when he knew he wasn’t supposed to. It hurt to know that there was no chance he’d ever have that.

“You know me, Tony,” Stephen said quietly. “We may not have kissed, but you certainly teased me plenty. You’ve spent hours working in the sanctum, just spending time with me. You’ve—”

“Stop,” Tony demanded. “Stop. I don’t know you. I’m not sure I want to know you.” 

Stephen flinched back, hurt crossing his face. “I’m your friend, Tony.”

Tony ran a hand through his hair, the rough gesture tugging at snarls that probably needed to be brushed out. “You don’t get it, Stephen. I’m in love with you. But it’s all a lie.”

Everything was.

#ironstrange #pepper/tony #tony stark #stephen strange #amnesia and confabulation #real things but I'm taking liberties #part 2 #soooo long #oh well

[arclundarchivist]

Spoilers for C3E93

-

-

-

Lonesome Roads

Morrighan finally stopped running when she realized her only companion was a literal shadow, clinging to her like a chilled coat.

“Will they be okay?” Cyrus asks, his voice distant and near in equal measure like a whisper from an opposing cliff.

“I- I don’t know,” she murmurs, slumping to the ground, her sword clattering to the ground beside her.

The last remnant of Opal is hot in her other hand, yet she refuses to release it. Holding it all the tighter.

“I love you.”

Her ears fall as the tears begin to fall yet again.

“Morrighan?” Cyrus prompts again.

“I said I don’t know!” she exclaims and falters, staring into the blank eyes of her friend’s spirit, and sees his face fall.

Why does she cling to him so?

‘I did not make you mine just for you to die here.”

But a part of her has.

And she needs direction.

Where can she go?

Where is she needed?

What will be demanded of her next?

How much more will she lose?

“Fate is a funny thing, deary, but one can always find a way to tug the threads in the right direction.”

The voice of the woman who cast her on this path, the one that took her first name.

She could have answers.

But what would the cost be this time?

What more could she give… no, what more would she give?

“What would you have me do?” she asks, speaking to the empty air.

There is no response, no urging, she misses when the guidance was a constant, an ever-present ringing in the back of her mind that showed her where to go.

But now there is silence, a comfort akin to the grave.

Fitting, perhaps, when she considers her position once more. 

“Where will we go?” Cyrus demands, shifting closer to her, and she part of her wants to push him away, the other wants to pull him into an embrace, but she is not sure if she can accomplish either.

“I wish I knew,” she mutters.

There is a flash of black, winging through sun-set tinged sky.

She looks up, and there is a raven winging towards the horizon.

A sign. 

She stands, taking up her blade, and glances back the way she came.

The road is being set before her.

“Cyrus… how does it feel?” she asks.

“Hollow, yet comforting, for I am not alone.” he murmurs, shifting closer to her once more, “Do you know where we are going?”

“No… but I hope it leads us back to the others in time,” she states, and she starts walking.

Unspoken is a worry she fights to bury.

She has seen Opal. 

What the Spider Queen demanded and stole from her?

Morrighan gave away her name.

She lost her friends.

Her only companion is a literal shade of himself.

She’s going to walk the path and go where she is needed.

Yet, she can’t help but wonder: “What will be left of me at the end of the road?”

----

Fy’ra stands, her fists drenched in blood as she confronts yet another band of this “Vanguard.”

Flowers and mushrooms of verdant shades are already beginning to bloom from their corpse.

It was true what she said all those weeks ago, “The Wildmother is not kind.”, but to see her vengeance, her rage enacted by her own hands, was… both haunting and exhilarating.

Her flames now carried a green tinge to their breadth, granting life as readily as they consumed it. She was a font of regrowth and healing the likes of which she had never been before.

And that had been helpful, for more than the Vanguard had become Opal’s target.

Mad Arcanists, cultists, supposed traitors, aberrations born of the Red Moon, and a horrid spider that dogged their every step.

One the Queen refused to call off as if she was elated by the constant challenge.

The constant growth of her champion.

Fy’ra was still herself but growing stronger every day. The Wildmothe had been truthful in her promise. Theirs was a conversation, a growing bond that she wasn’t truly certain the conclusion would bring.

Opal, though… was twisting all the more.

She continued to stretch in height, her six arms casting aside the blades at most times to wield lengthy and ichorous claws.

But what truly hurt Fy’ra in her soul was the young woman’s eyes.

Jet-black, with but a glimmer of the old opalescent sheen. And she swears when she watches her as the night overtakes the day, she sees others open in the corners and panes of her face. 

She looks to Opal now, pulling her claws from the belly of the woman who led this band. A towering goliath woman, now so much meat scattered about the ground.

Fy’ra’s heart seizes as for but a moment, Opal brings her fingers towards her mouth as if tempted to taste the blood soaking them, but then her hands drop.

A sign that despite it all, her little sisters are still in there.

She approaches as Opal stands, looking down at Fy’ra with a flat expression.

“Are we done here?” Fy’ra asks.

Opal speaks, her voice now tinged with an insectile trill harsh to the ears, “She says yes. If we succeed, those not fool enough to kill will get to be as they were before… or they will seek to martyr themselves as well. I don’t know, and she doesn’t care.”

“Of course, she doesn’t.” Fy’ra remarks bitterly, “But we can rest?”

Opal is silent, staring at the red moon resting on the far horizon to the south.

“Yes. For now, her son is attacking her somewhere else, so we have time.” Opal remarks, and she turns stiltedly and begins walking toward the dark woods from which the pair had come.

Fy’ra jogs to keep up, “Opal, is she still listening?” 

Opal glances at her, “Not fully.”

“I suppose that is the best I can hope for,” Fy’ra mutters, and she reaches out, gently taking the hand she knows to have originally been Opals.

“How are you?” Fy’ra asks, and Opal squeezes her hand just a tad.

“I’m surviving,” she returns, and then in Fy’ras mind, so rare now, her true voice speaks, “And it’s so hard, Fy’ra.”

“I know, I know, but this will not be forever.” Fy’ra comforts.

“She doesn’t like that,” Opal warns aloud.

“I do not care,” Fy’ra replies defiantly, and the wind around them flares with heat as if in agreement: “We walk this path together until the threat of the Ill Omen is finished, then…”

She lets the implication hang, and Opal smiles, but she can’t tell which part of her it is.

“How is Ted?” Fy’ra asks, and the look on Opal’s face is stark confusion.

The words that follow turn Fy’ra’s flaming blood to ice.

“Who?” Opal asks.

“Y-your sister.” Fy’ra chokes, a dawning realization punching into her core.

Opal pulls her hand from hers, and looks into the dark shadows between the trees and there, the flaring of additional eyes.

After several moments of silence, she looks down at Fy’ra, and it is not an illusion, for four pairs of inky-black eyes burrow into her as Opal says, “You’re the only sister I have in this world, Fy’ra.”

Fy’ra is stunned into silence as Opal keeps walking, her true voice trickling into her mind: “And I will always remember that. Thank you for being here with me.”

“I- you’re welcome.” Fy’ra returns, the realization that Ted had once again paid the lion’s share of her sister’s actions drilling a cold nail of resentment ever deeper into her heart.

“This is only until this plight is over, swear it to me.” Fy’ra growls, feeling a point to her teeth that was not there a moment before.

The wind caresses her in warmth, which she takes to be an agreement.

So she will wait, and she will work and she will protect Opal from all that comes at them in the days to come.

But not forever.

Nature is not kind, and it appreciates an ambush.

----

Dariax wanders Zephrah for days until he finally accepts that Dorian is truly gone.

“Why’d he leave me?” he asked himself and pretty much everyone around, but they couldn’t find the answer any better than he could.

He was alone. Again.

Had he upset Dorian? Did he blame him for Cyrus dying? He-he had the healing mojo. He could have got to him, done something, paid close attention but-

But he’d wanted to save Opal.

To hug her and tell her everything would be okay to rip that crown off and chuck it in a hole.

But he failed at that, too, huh?

Maybe that’s why they had all left him.

They were better at this than him, saving the world. He’d always been just along for the ride, trying and not really managing to keep up.

Dorian was a hero, Morrighan was a Champion, Fy’ra had all the answers ever, and Opal… Opal was strong. She’d held onto that burden without complaint for so, so long.

And he… had just run along behind them, trying to prop them up when they needed it.

But it wasn’t like the first three ever actually needed him. They had their shit together in ways he couldn’t even dream of!

But Opal, he could have- he should have-

“I should never have let her take that crown,” he mutters, bitter with himself as he downs another drink in that little post Dorian had left him in. He glances at the lute, and more self-loathing burbles up.

“I should have put it on, or let Poska take it, or left it with the Wildmother.” he continues rambling, “I should have done something.”

“You trusted her.” a soft voice remarks beside him, but he doesn’t look up.

“I did! I do, I- she was- she is- I should have done more to help her!” he yells, and heads turn to look at her.

“You did,” the voice comforts him. Suddenly, his head feels lighter, and a memory comes unbidden.

She hadn’t asked them to leave her.

She’d fallen into his arms, curling in and sobbing softly for a moment before falling into a peaceful sleep. The first in a while.

“You did what you could, how could you have known a god could feel desperation?” the voice offers, and he glances up, a beautiful Kitari woman smiling down at him, one he recognizes.

“It-it’s you.” Dariax breathes as the Observer smiles and gently moves some of his unkempt hair out of his eyes.

“It’s me,” she states.

“Do you need me in the fight, the big moon fight that folks have been telling me about, cause I’ll go, I just…” he falters, uncertainty eating at him, “I don’t know how much good I can do.”

“You do good in everything you attempt, Dariax,” she comforts, “But I require nothing of you, for I am simply content at the moment to watch how this all transpires.”

“You-you’re not afraid?” Dariax asks.

“The fear of the unknown is never far away,” she offers, “But unlike others, I will not let myself be ruled by it.”

“Then… what should I do?” Dariax murmurs.

“Be true to who you are, aid where you can, I am not looking for a Champion Dariax, but there are many out there that simply need a friend.” she offers.

His face falls, “I was a friend to Opal. To Dorian and the others, look how well that turned out.”

“Their roads have diverged from yours for now, but I do not think that will be forever.” the Observer states.

“Really?” Dariax remarks, hope returning ever so slightly.

“Their road will be trying, the paths winding, for you and for them each, but nothing in the stars states that the end that awaits you all is a tragic one. Keep hope.” she offers.

“Well…” Dariax mutters, swirling his drink and glancing up at her. “I guess I have something to fight for after all, yeah?”

“I’d say so,” she states with a smile.

He grins back, somber and reserved, and then glances around, catching that same look in the dozens of faces around him.

“Hey folks!” he calls out, drawing their gazes to him, “Next rounds on me!”

The mood around him goes on an upswing, and he turns back to the Observer as she looks around her with gleaming eyes.

“So… wanna stay for a drink?” he offers, “Or a song, maybe?”

She laughs, “You amaze me, Dariax Zaveon.”

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his head bashfully, “Th-thank you.’

And he sits with her, talking about times long past and hopes yet unachieved, his heart soaring at the prospect that when all this is over, he can see his friends once again. 

Not considering how changed they all might be.

But as the saying goes: Ignorance is bliss.

Goodbye, Crownkeepers, for now… or forever. 

#critical role #critical role spoilers #exu #cr dorian #cr opal #fy’ra rai #cr dariax #morrighan ferus #the crownkeepers

[arolesbianism]

Yet another beautiful day to have the Maxwel tag blocked (can't see half of the posts in the Wendy tags)

#rat rambles #starve posting #maxwell posters have lost any semblance of tolerance from me ages ago Ive yet to meet a maxwell fan who's just like a normal person #and to clarify I actually do like maxwel as I am the number one just some asshole whos in too deep enjoyer #but dear god are ppl just absolutely incapable of being normal abt this man and everyone around him #and even beyond that ppl just do not get this man like please he is indeed interesting but not because of some 'retconed redemption' #like pls we can live in a world where he is not an irridemable monster and is in fact just some guy while also still being a flawed person #like the fact that he is so deeply flawed in ways that he never actually properly adressed and challenged is the interesting thing to me #like look at me. he went through horrible shit he didnt deserve. that didnt inherently make him a better or worse person #it just made him a more miserable person #and he didnt escape because of some change of heart or character development #and afterwards he teamed up with wilson because of necessity #I do think on some level he genuinely cares abt the other survivors and he does have genuine regret for how things turned out #but again those things dont inherently mean he moved past the flaws that got him here it just means he has the ability to recognize that #shit sucks and that he wish none of it happened #its why encore is one of my favorite animations from a character perspective because it shows some juicy charlie and maxwell stuff #mainly it shows both that charlie has not forgiven his ass and is manipulating him and that maxwell is still susceptible to it #which isnt a sigh of them rolling back development it's just a sign that maxwell is easy to manipulate with the right cards #which adds up considering his past and his present very well in my opinion #this is a man whos historically always ran away from his problems and is always on the hunt for a sense of control #and charlie tapped into both that and his ever present guilt #its in fact very unsurprising and not out of place for him to fall for that sort of manipulation #and it also makes for a great set up for the inevitable betrayal from charlie as maxwell is hit by the harsh reality of his situation #and that whole situation would lead to some yummy tasty parallels when charlie inevitably gets betrayed herself (I hope) #the ways charlie and maxwel are so similar yet so different facinates me deeply I love how much charlie doesnt realize shes kinda fucked #I want her to be betrayed so hard and left in the dust with no ground to stand on I want the rug pulled out from under her feet #her composition comes from her confidence in the necessity of her actions and the moral superiority she feels over maxwell #so having her sense of superiority be revoked would make for a super fascinating dynamic as she tries to justify the situation in her head #I wanna see her siral and then maybe change her pronouns idk

[beverlydazed]

I wish us a relationship full of good soups, warm blankets and sheets, slow mornings as the morning sun washed out our bedroom wall, long rainy nights, popcorns on the couch, dancing in the kitchen, breathing in the cold, crispy night air while we’re outside staring at the soft light of the stars, two mugs of tea, hands grimed with dirt in our back garden, eyes full of sunshine, warm cuddly hugs, reading poems to each other, lots of knitting yarns, cat cradling in your arms, me coming home with fresh bread in hand, homemade berry jams, doing each other's hair, warm compress towel on your forehead when youre having cold, light that sifted through the trees outside of our kitchen windows and casted a dim shadow on the wall, post it notes on the fridge, long days after work where I massaged your back, mornings where we facing each other as my fingers ruffled through your hair, toothbrush caps on the sink since I forgot to screw it back on, us brushing our teeth at night before going to bed, hands wet with soap suds as I did the dishes, evenings where we both sat outside after you mowed the lawn and we inhale that crisp, zesty smell of the fresh lawn clippings, crumpled groceries list in the back pocket of your jeans, mismatched mugs on the coffee table, soft flaps of the curtain, sunlight that sliced through the blinds. I wish all good things for us. I hope you are doing well.

#mine #dark academia #poetry #poem #literature #relationship #poems #spilled​ink #I wish he would see this and realize how much i love him yet i am too far from being a lovable person #there are days where i am just wary and overthink about things too much and i pretty sure hes upset with me #but i wish..i wish he can hold onto me for a little longer. caressed my cheeks for a little longer #i am so deranged for venting in these tags i hope nobody read this because dhebshzkahskzgkwgskshsjs #ugh im gonna go amd rot in my room now while having a cup of tea and eat bunch of pears i bought for myself the other day #im gonna sleep with lavender oil on my pillow while thinking of him okay :(

[chuluoyi]

LOVER'S QUARREL

- fushiguro megumi x reader

“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.

genre: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)

note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.

And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.

But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.

You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.

You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.

So how dare he spout this now?

“I can't do this anymore.”

"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"

"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."

This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.

You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"

"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."

Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.

Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.

"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"

Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"

"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"

In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.

And yet...

"...I'm sorry."

Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.

And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."

As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.

Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."

You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.

Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.

Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.

"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.

"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."

"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"

"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."

"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."

. . .

"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.

Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”

Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”

“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”

He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.

Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…

How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?

Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.

With Hakari.

“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.

An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.

Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.

“Megumi?”

Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?

“Megumi!”

“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”

He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."

But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.

"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"

"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.

From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.

...huh?

Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?

What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.

Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—

Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.

How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.

How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.

But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.

“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?

Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?

They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.

What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?

You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!

You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...

"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.

You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."

This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?

Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.

"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.

Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."

You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.

Stay close, he said... So he is worried...

And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.

You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"

"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

"You two seem close."

Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?

Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"

In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.

You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?

"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.

Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.

But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"

Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.

For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.

Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.

And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"

"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"

He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.

You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"

"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.

"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.

"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"

Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—

At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.

He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—

Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.

You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.

Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.

And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.

"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"

You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.

It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.

"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."

Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.

"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.

"Don't leave me."

It was like a distant, hazy memory.

Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.

The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.

You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.

Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.

Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.

Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...

You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.

"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."

When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.

"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."

You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.

“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.

He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.

"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.

However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."

...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?

"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."

"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"

"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"

“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”

Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.

"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"

You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.

You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"

"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.

He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."

And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."

Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."

And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.

“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”

A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.

But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."

And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.

"Maybe I am, yeah."

"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."

"Yeah..."

But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.

On one sunny day...

"Hey, are you alone?"

Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.

"No. Can I help you?"

The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"

The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—

Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.

"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."

Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.

"Megumi!"

Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—

He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.

"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"

#fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader angst #megumi fushiguro x reader fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader fluff #fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk imagines #fushiguro megumi fluff #fushiguro megumi x y/n #fushiguro megumi angst #jjk #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro #jjk angst #jjk fluff

[anantaru]

I HATE EVERYONE BUT YOU

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — scaramouche has always been yours, yet he needs you to know that you'll always be his no matter what— even when you get all flustered while he shows you.

— ꒰ a/n ꒱ — in scaramouche we what?

— ꒰ wordcount ꒱ — 1.7k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader, jealous! reader, dom scara, rough sex but very passionate, scara hates everyone but you, slightly possessive scara, spitting, cumming inside of you

"you have nothing to worry about,"

"stop thinking about it and look at me," fingers gracefully trace on your bare skin, "because i need you to realize," drawing all sorts of shapes into your searing flesh, like subtle curves into your ribs, "that you'll never get rid of me," and lines dragging across your stomach when scaramouche's hand ultimately settles on your hips.

your stomach does flips at his words, and a fresh tide of relief cuts through your initial doubts. he grins and clicks his tongue, eyes dancing with amusement when he catches your shyness, "hm? what's up with you? where's this pretty voice of yours now?" and that smile, ugh, he cannot help himself but irritate you abundantly, especially when he knows how you'd react to his words.

"shut up," you hiss, "don't do that,"

"do what?" he cocks a brow, "—that?" he breathes, boldly as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles. the fire in his eyes was hard to miss and when he feels your body react to his loving trace, he's more than happy to indulge in those waves of lust— most notably show you that he'll never go away.

"fuck—" you whine, "you're mean," and you find out that his thoroughly chosen words would end up adding fuel to the looming wildfire burning between you both, the two of you high on the tension and rush smoldering the air.

and scaramouche's confessions were driving you into a spiral.

"careful there," he coos, "take it slow," for him, there was no competition, and even if there was a competition, you're not in it. you're above everything. you're perfect, no one could ever set his heart ablaze like you did.

scaramouche hums, "you're stuck with me." he candidly bites down on your bottom lip, "okay?" when you nod vigorously at him, your hips leaving the bed as your back arches into his digits, your hands finding immediate comfort in his hair as you tug softly at his roots to press his lips on yours.

scaramouche was pretty when he looked at you like that, kissed you like he needed you to survive— dreamily while flushed, his cheeks seething with scarlet redness when he inhales deeply for a moment.

but he's not used to all of this, and he didn't like the fact that you could become jealous sometimes— after all, humans suffer more in imagination rather than in reality, and you have nothing to worry about, scaramouche certainly thought he made that very much clear.

but he's embarrassed, although not because of the fact that he might've gotten too close to someone who wasn't you and experienced regret, which, in fact, wasn't possible.

he simply cannot stand anybody besides you.

truth be told, he's a little annoyed that you forgot about the fact that he wasn't a big talker per se, he even actively chose his schedule so he wouldn't see a lot of people, or anyone for that matter. scaramouche never sought out to make any meaningful friendships with the people of the akademiya as well— despite the god of wisdom helplessly attempting to push him out of his comfort zone.

with that out of the way, the real reason as to why scaramouche was embarrassed was quite silly, because it's due to what your jealousy did to him— fuck, he finds it beyond attractive, yet he refuses to acknowledge that a special heat conquered his chest like that, reaching his groin until he couldn't think straight.

there's a delicate challenge in your ways of reacting when he tells you that you mustn't be jealous, and scaramouche drinks it like water— he knows you're everything he's ever wished for, like ice cream on a hot summer day, you're melting his heart.

he nuzzles into your skin to inhale your scent, leaves soft kisses on your cheekbones while holding your jaw, making you look directly at him.

does he need to show you that he's utterly addicted to you? so, do you require it like a challenge of sorts? because archons, he'll do it, easy work easy done.

to note, it's not scaramouche's fault that people want to talk to him and are curious about the new addition to the akademiya— yet he doesn't like them, it's pestering when they get too close to him as well, ask if he could talk a little more about where he was coming from because they wanted to be nice, civil but end up making him scoff with a roll of his eyes.

enjoying his own company was fine to scaramouche— and he always found himself fantasizing about you all the time, particularly about your soft laughs and candid smiles, your voice, your stories and your understanding was like a sweet melody to the wanderer, and he could indulge in it during his breaks, before he needed to finish a mission, or he could imagine it every single night before he'd fall asleep to the thought of you.

your body was rubbing against his now, sweat colliding as he removes his fingers from your cunt and wraps them around his erection, pretty dark lashes accentuating his flaring cheekbones while you loop your arms around him— parting your legs a little so he could easily slide himself in.

scaramouche gently adds pressure on your tight hole before moving his hips, but it's slow— gentle and delicate that you can feel every crevice of his length in you.

a soft moan rips from his throat as you mold around him easily, feeling him attentively as he traces the thick vein along the side of your walls as your hips twitch at the slight sting deep in your abdomen.

scaramouche was as desperate as ever to show you his love through physical attention— and the word shame didn't seem to find a place in his phraseology when he forces your gaze back under his. "open and stick your tongue out," he taps, once twice, against your lips with his thumb, "wanna taste me, right? so do it now," while keeping his throbbing dick buried inside as he purposefully moves his hips a little to make you squeal.

you cannot help the way your lips curve into a smile before you're parting your lips, applauding his efforts to claim you. it's merciless when he bundles the saliva budding in his mouth before spitting on your tongue, his crystalline eyes open to catch your tremble— how can he not indulge in this? you're nothing short of perfect, pleading for him to give you more.

"show me," he commands further, groaning deep into his chest when he looks at his saliva melting with your own and how it's dribbling from your chin, his length twitching rapidly as you try to steady your breathing at the sinful scenario you're living through.

scaramouche's hands clench at your waist as he fucks you as passionate as he can, his cock pressing against the overstimulated bud in your pussy before starting slow circles with his hips, your mouth huffing out candid i love you's amidst your moans.

inch by inch he slides into you, in and out in rapid movements, the more you take the better it felt having him rub your pleasure spots he so desperately desired to feel suck on his shaft and milk the cum out of his cock. he finds it cute when your face suddenly scrunches up if he moves faster than previous, your jaw parting in awe at how much better it felt the more he upped his tempo to batter your sore pussy.

it feels good— it always does, and if being a little jealous here and there would always result in this, than you'd gladly play your part as much as he needed it. it's almost like you don't hear yourself moaning and spell out honeyed praises, too occupied to indulge on the way scaramouche rolled along your walls and the noises of his balls colliding on your skin over and over.

"fuck— you're gonna make me cum fast," scaramouche gasps, dragging his sensitive cock through you like you're made for him, as if it just fits and he doesn't need to prep you, which he in fact, really enjoyed doing as well.

frankly, nothing tasted as good as your pussy rubbing across his mouth.

one hand leaves your hips before he gives your clit a little attention, pressing through the curtains that protected your sensitive pearl as he rubs your slick over the sensitivity, smirking devilishly when you arch your back off the mattress and begin to shake, your walls spasming while being so perfect when milking his cock, your pussy dripping with slick as he toys with your clit.

you cry out a sound between a broken sob and sharp moan of his name and that's when scaramouche knows you're close too— swift when he drags his hand from your clit to intertwine his digits with your own as he fucked you into the bed, your pussy pulsing around him as your eyes scrunch shut when you reach your high, falling slack against the bed and whining out shortly when he warms you with the weight of his body.

"fuck— shit!," his hips faster, his breath quicker, "you're fuckin mine, mine, mine," scaramouche falls apart,  panting against your ear and groaning lowly, his erection pulsing while constricted by your walls as he holds his cock deeply buried in you before thrusting back and forth once, twice, three more times as he spills his load into your pussy— his warm seed setting your belly on fire by how perfect it felt to be claimed in such lewd, passionate way.

"fuck," he breathes, "gonna stay like that for a bit,"

archons, it's so sticky— borderline filthy and shameless with every intention of it being like that. your tits were still bouncing up and down from the following, last thrusts of him pumping his precious cum into your hole and making sure not a single drop gets lost midway.

after a while of collecting your breathing and turning it evenly again, you giggle out, finding his darkened hair strands as you greet him with a wet, sloppy kiss, "wanna join me for a shower later?" you mumble, eyes half-lidded as he hums softly into your lips, "mhm, or i'll decline so you'll get mad at me, right?"

"i will bite you," you threaten, shaking slightly as he pulls himself out without warning to expose his drenched cock being weaved with your slick, the filthy mixture dripping along your inner thighs,

"please do, "i'm counting on it," scaramouche ends with a wink.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x you #wanderer smut #wanderer x you #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles #genshin x you #genshin Impact x you

[neos127]

enha boys + types of kisses

pairing. enhypen boys x gn!reader genre. hcs, fluff, some are kinda suggestive of you squint cw. semi proof read!

HEESEUNG ✢ a small fleeting kiss followed by a passionate one

reuniting with your boyfriend again over the summer was something you always looked forward too. the way he hugged you tightly as if he never wanted to let you go again always made your heart race. the innocent kisses that always turned into full on makeouts was something else you loved. they always seemed to make up for lost time, and heeseung was never able to let you go with a tiny peck.

“i missed yo-” heeseung barely let you speak in between kisses, nearly knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“trust me, i missed you way more.” he smirked, grabbing your face and pulling you into another heated kiss.

JAY ✢ a kiss followed by ones that trail down the jaw and neck

jay’s kisses were often so intoxicating, so when he started to detach from your lips and trail down to your neck— it always sent your mind into a frenzy. the kiss would start innocently at first, before jay pulled away with a small smirk and moved on to your jaw. the feeling of his lips trailing along your skin always made you shiver and jay lived for it.

“the boys are in their rooms.” you mumbled, trying to bite back a groan. jay obviously didn’t seem to care as he continued the assault on your neck.

“well then i guess you’re going to have to be quiet. that won’t be a problem, will it?” jay teased, resting his forehead against yours. oh yeah- you were a goner.

JAKE ✢ pulling away from a kiss, whispering words of love against each others lips

it was late at night, rain roughly tapping against the window, and jake was distracting you from yet another movie. you wanted to scold him for not paying attention- but his kisses felt way to good to make him stop. so like always, you indulge in his neediness, playing with the ends of his hair as your tongues traces each others mouths. he suddenly pulled away, his mouth only centimeters from yours.

“you know i love you, right?” he whispered, causing you to smile.

“of course.” you replied, before giving him a chaste kiss.

“and you’re amazing and beautiful and perfect and all mine.” he added, his lips brushing against yours. he leaned in to kiss you again, not being able to get enough of how you felt against him.

“your even more gorgeous and perfect, jake. and i love you very much.” you rushed out before jake could kiss you again, you could feel his lips quirk up into a smile which was enough to make you forget any type of grudge you held against him for disrupting movie night again.

SUNGHOON ✢ tracing the person’s lips with their finger before titling their head up for a kiss

“you’re so pretty.” sunghoon mumbled , dragging his thumb across your bottom lip. you were rendered speechless, swallowing thickly as his gorgeous eyes bore into yours. sunghoon smiled at your nervousness, moving his hand to cup your chin.

“can you kiss me?” you muttered, not even realizing what you said until the words left your mouth. sunghoon chuckled, observing the awestruck look in your eyes. he granted your wish, leaning down to pull your bottom lip into his mouth.

SUNOO ✢ one person pouting only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person

“how do you keep beating me? it’s not fair.” sunoo whined dramatically when he saw the wicked smile on your face. the two of you had been playing very intense games of super smash bros and it was safe to say that sunoo was not winning. you began to giggle, looking over at your boyfriend to see a pout on his face.

“oh don’t be too upset,” you cooed, quickly kissing his pout away. “i’ll make it up to-” sunoo tackled you to the ground before you could finish your sentence, kissing you harder than before. you immediately dropped your remote onto the ground before moving your hands to run through his hair. needless to say the two of you didn’t end up playing another round of the game.

JUNGWON ✢ a kiss that tastes of the dessert they were eating

you and jungwon had a craving for sweets one night and went out to a local cafe to get a mini cake for both of you to share. you two finished it quickly, licking your lips to savor the yummy treat.

“that was so good. thank you for paying my love.” you mumbled before leaning over to kiss him. jungwon began to kiss you back back before you pulled away abruptly.

“you taste like chocolate.” you giggled, watching as a small blush appeared on his face.

“mmm i wonder why…” jungwon sassed, before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in for another kiss.

RIKI ✢ a passionate kiss shared before having to part ways for a while

“why do you have to live so far away?” riki sighed against your hair as the two of you embraced. you were both at the airport, but you were the one going back home. long distance was frustrating, but you appreciated the times you did have with your boyfriend.

“i’ll try to come back as soon as i can.” you replied, looking up at him as tears streamed down your face. riki began to kiss them away before eventually moving down to your lips. you both always tried to share the longest kiss possible before parting, knowing that you won’t be in each others arms for a long time. riki tried to deepen the kiss even more but you pulled away, already feeling out of breath due to your sobbing earlier.

“i love you.” you said softly, placing a kiss on his cheek before turning around and walking towards security. riki mumbled out an ‘i love you’ as well but you didn’t turn around. riki understood why you never looked back one last time after parting. if you did and saw the tears that began to well up in his eyes— you would never leave.

#enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enha headcanons #enhypen headcanons #lee heeseung imagines #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #park jay imagines #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon imagines #sim jake imagines #jake x reader #kim sunoo imagines #sunoo x reader #yang jungwon imagines #jungwon x reader #nishimura riki imagines #niki x reader

[prythianpages]

Be Safe | Azriel x Reader

summary: you are on your way to Day Court when Azriel stops you. After the two of you fall victim to Cassian's and Mor's teasing, Azriel realizes why he can't just let you go.

warnings: fluff and a hint of suggestiveness at the beginning

note: I saw this tiktok and decided to write it into a little scenario because I loved it so much.

“Oh, you’re going to love the Day Court,” Mor purrs with a grin. “And it’s High Lord. Helion…let’s just say his pegasus isn’t the only thing you’ll want to ri–”

“Oookay.” Cassian chimes in with a chuckle, placing his hand over Mor’s mouth to keep her from finishing her sentence. “Settle down, Mor. We don’t want her to love it too much!” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll come back,” you respond and then laugh as Mor bites Cassian’s hand. "Besides, Rhys will be there and he’s, you know, my boss. This trip is purely professional.”

The three of you stand in the foyer of the town house, Cassian cradling his hand to his chest with a pointed look at Mor, who merely rolls her eyes. You were heading for Day Court, where Rhysand already waited for you. Cassian and Mor had stopped you, insisting on wishing you well before leaving, even though your mission was amicable. The only danger you could possibly encounter on your trip, it seems, would be Helion’s chambers. A welcomed danger, if Mor’s insinuations were to hold truth.

“I should go now. I told Rhys I would be there within the next half hour almost an hour ago.”

As you gaze at your friends, a subtle ache tugs at your heartstrings, a silent yearning for another’s presence. Though you know he's currently engaged in a mission, you can't help but wish he were here beside you too. 

You turn away from your friends, preparing to winnow to the Day Court. It's as though the Cauldron itself heard your unspoken longing. Just as you're about to step forward, a hand emerges from the depths of the shadows, halting you in your tracks with a gentle yet firm touch.

You turn back around, watching as the darkness seems to part for him, revealing those warm hazel eyes that could pierce through the darkest of nights. “Azriel,” you greet in pleasant surprise.

His eyes lock onto yours and you suddenly find it hard to breathe. “Be safe,” he murmurs, his voice deep yet sweet like honey. The way he looks at you, full of concern and something else you can’t quite discern at the moment, sends a delightful warmth seeping into your heart. 

Azriel’s gaze flickers down toward your intertwined hands and you notice the subtle tension that comes from his scarred hands before he abruptly lets yours go. It’s a moment of vulnerability that makes your chest ache. You want to reach out for his hands again but he comes to stand by your side instead.

His arm brushes against yours. The dark tendrils dancing around his shoulders revel in your proximity, slithering down his arm and coiling around you in a cool embrace. You welcome his shadows, smiling softly when you feel them tug you closer to their master, deliberately enchanting you with the scent of cedar and night chilled mist. It’s as if they don’t want you to leave his side.

“I will,” you finally respond, your voice a mere whisper as you look up at him

Azriel’s gaze softens. The tension between you dissipates into something lighter, something magical. The world around seems to fade into darkness, leaving only the two of you suspended in a moment that feels both infinite and fleeting. No words are spoken yet so much is said.

Meanwhile, Cassian and Mor exchange a knowing look of their own. The mutual crushing between you and Azriel has been evident to everyone for years. Well, everyone, except for you and Azriel. Mor and Cassian will give you grace, as Azriel can be unreadable at times. But Azriel? The spymaster of the Night Court? How he cannot see your unmistakable crush on him is beyond them.

“Be safe,” Cassian says, mocking Azriel’s tone.There’s a mischievous gleam in his hazel orbs as he gazes down at Mor, pouting his lips in an exaggerated manner. 

Mor’s eyes light up, mirroring Cassian’s mischief. She leans in toward Cassian’s shoulder–the very same way you’re doing with Azriel. Except, she wraps her arms around Cassian’s larger one, resting her head on his chest. “I’ll be so safe,” she cooes, voice like velvet.

Azriel feels the heat rising to his neck. He turns to Cassian and Mor, gaze darkening with an icy glare. “Stop,” he warns but it only encourages the two further.

They continue to hug each other and make kissing sounds. A blush creeps up your cheeks and you seek solace in Azriel’s arm, burying your face against it. Azriel’s wing instinctively curls around your form in a protective manner. Were you being that obvious? Your answer is immediately given as your hands gravitate towards each other once more.

 “Stop it! Or I’m going to kill you!”

Cassian pulls Mor even closer. His brows furrow, softening his expression as he directs his pout toward Azriel. “But how would that keep us safe?”

None of you will be safe if you keep delaying y/n. Helion does not like to be kept waiting, echoes an all too familiar voice–Rhys’s– through your minds. He leaves your mind as quickly as he entered it, lingering only in Azriel’s long enough to add: Let her go.

Azriel blinks, not realizing that throughout the teasing, his fingers had intertwined with yours. He turns his attention back to you, reluctantly releasing your hand. A sheepish expression takes over his features as he brings the hand that had been holding yours to rub the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t help but worry when you’re not home,” Azriel admits quietly.

Mor and Cassian both let out a sound that Azriel is quick to stifle with his shadows. 

“It’s only for a week,” you assure him as you open the door and step outside. You feel a flicker of anticipation tingling in your veins as you prepare to winnow. You turn back to face Azriel and your friends one more time.

“Don’t miss me too much, okay?”

But I miss you already, Azriel thinks as he feels a strange stirring awakening deep in his chest. His shadows buzz around him in excitement. 

“Bye, y/n. Have fun but not too much fun!” Cassian calls out to you in mock warning over Azriel’s right shoulder.

Mor peeks out from Azriel’s left shoulder and winks at you. “But if you do find yourself having too much fun, call for me, okay?” 

“Sure,” you agree and Azriel fails to notice the reciprocated teasing in your tone.

He’s too busy glancing between Cassian and Mor, hazel eyes wary. His shadows whisper to him, confirming the suggestiveness of their words. Uneasiness settles into his stomach, causing his entire body to tense up.

He’s familiar with the flirtatious nature of the High Lord of the Day Court. Too familiar that he can already dreadfully anticipate the sweet words Helion will shower you with. His shadows stir, excitement morphing into panic. What if you fall victim to Helion’s charm?

Suddenly, he hates the idea of you going to Day. 

As your gazes meet once more, an unseen force seems to settle into place. His eyes widen in realization, his mouth parting to utter your name, but it’s too late. You’re already winnowing away and he lurches forward, after you, pulled by the golden threads that have wildly unfurled within his chest.

Mate. You're his mate.

note: I did not know how to end this so please don't come for me for ending it like this lol. Just know that Az is winnowing away to join you in Day Court right after. I hope you enjoyed! <3

general tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #azriel imagine #acotar fanfic #azriel x y/n #acotar x y/n #acotar x you #azriel fluff #acotar fluff

[mahgyu]

Thinking about Toji, who only realizes what he truly feels for you when he sees you happy with someone else.

Toji used to tell himself that you were just another woman he used for sex and nothing more. However, weeks turned into months, and even though he kept saying that you weren't anything special in his life, the situation was actually completely different.

You already spent more time in his small apartment than in your own. When he woke up in the morning, it wasn't with Megumi poking and asking him to prepare breakfast anymore, because you promptly woke up before to do it. You did so much for them and never expected anything in return.

Speaking of Megumi, he also began to develop a strong bond with you. You always played together, watched movies, and you even helped with homework when you could. Megumi always looked at you with admiration, as if you were the mother figure he didn't even realize he needed. Toji might have displayed the facade of an unshakable man, but deep down, only he knew how much witnessing these domestic moments affected him.

But, in a way, Toji felt inadequate for you. He was just a troubled single father trying to stay alive, with a questionable job and a life that felt more like a rollercoaster. He looked at you and saw an incredible woman, full of life and potential, while he saw himself as someone who would only hold you back. You deserved more than just sex and a miserable life beside him.

Toji tried to end things by acting like a bad guy, a personality he always portrays to everyone but never before to you, behaving like a jerk so that you would hate him and feel nothing for him but contempt. He was cold, distant, and even cruel in his words. He knew he was hurting you, but it was the simplest way out.

He saw the pain in your eyes when you finally accepted his words and distanced yourself, leaving him alone with his regret and loneliness. Deep down, he hoped you would find someone better, someone who could give you everything he couldn't.

But as time passed, the pain of separation only grew in Toji. He tried to fill the void with more work, giving more attention to Megumi, who didn't make things easier by constantly asking why you had abandoned them. He even sought out other women for sexual satisfaction, but it didn't help. They weren't you; nothing could take you out of Toji's mind. He constantly wondered if he had made the right choice, if he had done what was best for both of them.

Months later, Toji saw you from afar, leaving a coffee shop, happy with another man. In one hand, a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and beside you, a well-dressed man, with neatly combed blond hair and a serene expression on his face as he briefly sealed his lips on yours. Toji's heart clenched in a way he had never felt before. Seeing you smiling and radiant beside someone else made Toji realize how foolish he had been. He realized he had let slip away the best thing that had ever happened to him, all because of stubbornness and egocentrism.

At that moment, Toji realized that you were everything he had ever wanted, and that he had made the biggest mistake of his life by letting you go. He wished he could turn back time and fix his choices, but he knew he couldn't. All that was left for him was regret and the memory of the love he let slip away. He would never forgive himself.

I'll give a gift to whoever can guess who the other man I described at the end is ᵔ⤙ᵔ

I haven't fixed it yet so sorry for any mistakes.

ㅤㅤㅤ

#toji x reader #toji x f!reader #toji x female reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji angst #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #toji fushigro x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #toji imagine #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x female reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #toji fushiguro angst #toji jjk #toji jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen toji #jjk toji fushiguro #fanfic jjk

[hanaonesflower]

“let me do this for you.”

“let me get that for you.”

“don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

when nanami was around, it was like being watched by a hawk. not in a bad way of course, just not a way you're probably used to. he is always on it, taking care of everything from beginning to end, hell bent on you not ever lifting a finger and actually bar you from doing it, even behind his back.

"seriously, kento, I can do it myself!"

"absolutely not, you worked all day, when you come home, I take care of you."

you try to bargain, dishing out facts that he, too, has a full time job that usually pushes him to the brink of exhaustion that he may or may not recover from, yet, here he is, elbows deep in dough, insistent on making pasta from scratch. according to a recipe that you may have briefly mentioned weeks ago that you wanted to try.

you tried to pick up the knife and dice the tomatoes or turn on the stove, he shoos you away.

"this is getting out of control, kento."

"you can help me by taking a nice warm long bath, honey."

nanami knows what he's doing, the majority of the time. but will he ever express that he fumbles from time to time? never. not that his ego is inflated, but because he has prided himself for being to care for you boundlessly.

so when you leave the bath and find kento with his hand in a bucket of ice water, you realize something have gone south in the kitchen.

"kento! what happened?!"

"nothing to worry about my l-"

"enough! tell me, now."

your stern voice and attitude stun him, he's never seen you like this before. his behavior is downright concerning, he hasn't always been this way though. sure, he loves by serving, but he isn't always this stubborn or ridiculously protective. you have always cooked together, why would it be different this time, or the last few times within the past couple of months. nanami isn't unreasonable, but he can be if something pricked at his pride.

"I may have burned myself with the hot steam."

"may have? your skin is having a terrible reaction! for a smart man you can be so clumsy sometimes."

"it's not that bad."

you glare.

"okay, it's pretty burnt and it hurts."

"I bet it does."

you slowly pull his hand out from the ice bucket and lead him to the kitchen table and command him to sit still when you fetch the first aid. his palm is raw from the burn and his face twists in pain when you apply some pressure.

there isn't much conversation exchanged between you and him, but something is definitely hanging above your heads. kento seems to be closed off to it, but you're willing to get to the root of things.

"you haven't been yourself lately."

silence.

"I feel like this is not just about providing for me, something happened, and it affected you."

kento looks saddened by this. you are spot on. something did happen.

a few months ago, during a dinner party amongst friends, kento found himself begrudgingly involved in unpleasant conversations with his colleagues, the way they audaciously questioned his ability to care for his partner when he was always away on work trips or spending extra time at work. he took it to heart, kento questioned himself. he realized, that even though his colleagues were terribly annoying and invasive, they made some considerable points. he made the executive decision to fully take over, spinning a complete 180 on you. at first you thought it was sweet, until it became authoritarian.

"that's really how you feel?"

"have I been absent to you, y/n?"

you contemplate for a while, you truly wish he is around more, but you always understand the nature of his job.

"I do wish I can see you more often, when you had that 2-week long vacation, I was able to spend such amazing quality time with you, and it was awesome, but I also understand how your job is. I didn't want to come in between that."

"so I have been absent." he moaned defeatedly.

"please don't blame it on yourself like this, it's not healthy, I still love you, kento."

"this is all my fault, y/n, I should have been there for you more."

truthfully, you wish he was, but once again, you are both stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"have you been doing all this to somehow compensate?"

"is it working?"

he is trying to humor you, although at quite a horrid time, you still crack a smile.

"I think it's very kind of you."

he sighs.

"please, forgive me, my love. I became what you called a workaholic, I tried to get more hours to provide for you, only to come short in other aspects."

"I'm not an unemployed housewife, kento."

“this isn’t my way of saying that you are incapacitated in any way, i just wish that you didn’t have to worry about anything,” he groaned from the incessant gnawing of the antiseptic on his burnt wound.

“kento, this is a partnership, you’re not my servant and i’m not a spoiled brat,” he felt a little silly, nanami knew this fact yet he felt impotent in this sense. he opened and closed his lips, hoping to get his point across even further but nothing seemed good enough at theis point, he’s done fighting.

“whatever you’re going to say, it’s not going to change the fact that i love you,” you silence him.

“then can i say that i love you, too?”

“that, you can.”

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒ ⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒ ⭒˚‧

note: PHEEeewww… it’s really good to be back :33 this piece shall be the redebut as it is one of my cuter fics. going back with smut pieces after such a long hiatus didn’t feel right so – soft nanami is always the way to go!! more content will be coming soon (smut included >.>), stay tuned ( ˘ ³˘)

#nanami kento #jjk nanami #soft nanami #nanami can do no wrong #nanami kento jjk #jjk nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #kento nanami #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk scenarios #jjk fic #aisssHHH i love him more than ever b4 #just the sweetest broody guy evaaaa

[ki-yomii]

like i do | jjk

➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader

➥ word count | 3.2k

➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, mild praise kink, squirting, standing missionary, finger fucking, thigh riding, established relationship, angst w/ a happy ending, possessive!jk, jealous!jk, mentions of infidelity, trust issues

➥ summary | request - Jk being a jealous husband, angst and smuttttt 🥹💘

➥ notes | for lovely anon. hope you enjoy 💚 un-edited, i'll come back and fix any mistakes later. also poor jimin. i love him but i always seem to make him suffer lol.

💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚

Eavesdropping.

Whether it was a stray conversation in a shop, or lurking around corners to see what others really thought of you, everyone’s done it at some point.

Now, it’s a habit Jungkook tries not to encourage - much preferring upfront interactions and direct conversations - but that isn’t to say he’s never eavesdropped before.

But the problem with listening in on conversations you’re not supposed to be is you run the risk of hearing something you wish you didn’t.

And while it wasn’t intentional by any means - he respects you too much to spy, even if the urge is there - he learns this lesson the hard way.

The first time it happens, he’s in the kitchen refilling his cup of iced coffee. There’s a squeal of surprise followed by a lighthearted giggle, the sound of shuffling limbs and a low grunt.

Everything in him freezes at the sound of your delight, gut churning.

He always works so damn hard to pull the laughter from the depths of your throat. And it stings that Jimin - his friend, his brother’s attempts are effortless.

It’s something so simple, and yet the effect it’s having on him is undeniable as Jungkook white-knuckles the handle of his mug and grits his teeth.

His jaw nearly cracks in two when he hears the softly murmured greeting, “It’s good to see you, baby.”

And Jungkook knows, okay.

He knows there’s nothing romantic between the two of you.

If anything, you’re too alike. Twin flames of the platonic variety. Not only would it never work out, but you both feel nothing but familial towards one another.

For fuck’s sake, Jimin was there when Jungkook proposed. Was the one to encourage it, in fact. Has been nothing but supportive about your relationship even when others disagreed.

However, knowing something doesn’t dampen the spark of jealousy.

Nor does it soothe the sharp flash of hurt threatening to steal the breath from his lungs.

Jimin has always been affectionate with you, and he’s always a touch too flirtatious. It’s a part of who he is, and it’s one Jungkook would never ask him to dim. Jimin spent far too long hiding, pretending, stifling himself for other’s comfort.

And Jungkook loves him as he is, encourages him to be his beautiful, authentic self no matter what. Expect maybe when it comes to his wife… for reasons he’s unwilling to examine.

All schoolyard flirtations aside, what bothers Jungkook most are the pet names. He can put aside his petty jealousy because he knows its unfounded.

What’s harder is dismissing the use of that little four-letter word: baby. 

It’s supposed to be his way of telling you how much he loves you. Special, intimate. A stand-in for the four-word phrase he whispers into the silk of your skin, tattoos into your heart with his lips.

The realization he’s sharing a part of you he thought all his own sits bitter on the back of his tongue, an acid burn eating through his throat until he can’t find the words.

When you respond in kind with a soft, tender call a piece of him shrivels.

Standing in the kitchen adrift and lovelorn, Jungkook’s left with an empty longing he can’t name and no where to place it.

You weren’t together for more than six months before he proposed, knowing you were the one for him by the second date.

Maybe he moved too fast, was too receptive?

Growing up, he’d always been eager to move onto the next big thing, ready to jump head first. Some said that would come back to bite him in the ass. Was this the day?

Perhaps you regret saying yes so soon. Jungkook knows he’s not like other people. They need time to settle into their feelings like a house settling old wooden bones.

The last thing he wants is to make you feel trapped, suffocated under the weight of all his clingy, needy problems.

So he smothers the discomfort and walks into the living room. He shoots you a smile and inclines his head towards Jimin.

Thoroughly ignores the pulse of pain when he sees how cozy the two of you look cuddled up on the couch, legs tangled together with Bam at your feet.

That should be me.

You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

He can’t lose you.

It’s there he silently vows to be less intense, less attached. Does his best to keep his hands to himself even though he wants to reach across the space between your bodies, and tug you into the cradle of his chest.

Bam picks his head up, cocking his ear to the side when Jungkook winces as Jimin reaches out to tug a lock of your hair, smirking around another purred baby.

Thankfully no one else but the dog notices his moment of weakness or the tension cutting through his shoulders.

Staring at his reflection, Jungkook tucks a lock of hair behind his ear and fiddles with his tie. The three-piece fits like a glove yet he’s never felt more uncomfortable.

He longs for soft cotton and baggy loungewear but tonight is important.

It’s your first year anniversary.

He’s had this night planned out months in advance; pulled all the strings needed to secure a reservation at one of the best five-stars in Gangnam.

You’ve been looking forward to it all week, and your excitement is infectious.

Only Jungkook’s mood sours as soon as he turns the corner to find you on the couch with company, dolled up and radiant. Jimin’s beside you, one leg crossed over the other and swirling a half-empty wine glass.

He says something too low for Jungkook to hear.

“Jimin!” You titter behind your hand, the flash of the jewels on your nails catching the light. “Sto-op! You nasty little freak.”

“What’re you doing here?”

Jungkook doesn’t mean to snap but the inner turmoil spills over before he can shove it down.

Your eyes lose some of their softness, the happiness fizzling from your expression like champagne bubbles. Mouth pinching in at the corners, you narrow your eyes.

A lump grows in his throat.

“What’s got you so pissy, Kook?” you ask.

Jimin clears his throat, averting his gaze to the side as he mindlessly plays with the stem of the glass.

The frosty look Jungkook shoots him withers under your pointed glare. Shoulders sagging, he runs his fingers through his hair, unable to care about how much he’s fucking up the style. 

“Sorry Jimin, I… ahem. Anyway, are you gonna be ready to go soon?”

“Mhm, just let me finish up here,” you trail off, motioning to the last few sips of your own wine. “We’ve still got some time before we have to leave anyway.”

Before Jungkook can respond, Jimin cuts in while twining an arm over your bare shoulders, cheek pressed sweetly to yours, “You can’t rush perfection, Kookie. Isn’t that right, pretty baby?”

It’s no surprise your anniversary ends in disaster; a fight so vicious it has you fleeing with an overnight bag, refusing to look at Jungkook let alone speak to him no matter how much he begs you to stay.

Leaving him alone in an apartment ringing with your absence, terrified this is the beginning of the end and thoroughly convinced he’s the worst fucking husband ever.

It’s been several days of radio silence.

No amount of texting or calling gets you to answer. And it’s starting to get to him, going out of his mind with worry, with guilt. If only he hadn’t said this, that, and the other.

If only you’d stayed.

Now, everywhere he turns, Jungkook’s forced to face the jealousy growning like a weed in his heart. And every day it gets worse; a stone crushing his lungs, a bottomless pit curdling his stomach.

He doesn’t know where you are exactly, but his suspicions are proven correct when he nearly busts down the door to Jimin’s apartment only to have you invite him inside, stony-faced and silent.

The quiet doesn’t last, broken by the awkward clearing of his throat as he avoids your stare.

“What are we even doing?” he asks.

Your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline.

There are bags under your eyes and heavy lines around your mouth. You look like you haven’t slept well. Jungkook’s gut clenches, bile bubbling up the back of his throat.

It’s all my fault.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Kook.”

“Please.” He refuses to acknowledge the plea for what it is. “I can’t - I can’t do this anymore.” His voice breaks, cracks in two, tears stopping up his tongue. “I need to know.”

Your eyes flash with confusion. “Baby?” You step closer, hand outstretched and shoulders relaxing. “What are you talking about?”

His intentions are pure, honest.

But months of simmering anger, of doubting everything about himself (again), of resenting the fact he resents you, resents Jimin at all, bubbles to the surface.

He’s not proud of it, but Jungkook explodes; a match set to gunpowder.

“I’m talking about you and Jimin!”

“Me,” you ask, blinking owlishly, “-- and Jimin?”

Jungkook smiles, sharp and unpleasant. Bitter and disappointed. Grief makes him mean, nasty. “Yeah, you and Jimin. Do you think I’m stupid - were you just gonna keep fucking around behind my back?” 

“Woah, pump the breaks! What the hell are--”

“Don’t even try to deny it.”

His eyes glint like shards of black ice, cool and assessing as he stares at you. Numb to the concern in your gaze, the purse of your lips. He’s slipping - he knows he’s slipping. Can feel the grief stricken rage pressing in at the corners of his mind.

The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, and yet he’s helpless to stop the words pouring from his mouth. “Did you like watching me make a fool of myself?”

You sneer, arms crossed over your chest so hard it looks like it hurts, “You’re doing that all on your own, Jungkook. I think you need to leave.”

“No, no, come on. I want to know. Why did you marry me if you don’t even want me, huh?”

Stalking closer, Jungkook corners you against the counter.

The smooth glide of his body is reminiscent of a large jungle cat, purely predatory. The uncomfortable thrill of it reflects through your gaze, the clench of your thighs.

Dark satisfaction curls low in his belly.

He asks, “Did he fuck you better, make you scream his name?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about but you’re being a fucking pig,” you say, shoving his shoulder towards the door. “Now I really think it’s time for you to leave. Come back when you’re not being stupid.”

Strong fingers clamp down around your wrist, and Jungkook tugs you into his chest. His free arm curls around your waist, pinning you to his front. The heat of your body can’t drive away the sudden cold washing over him.

“Let go-”

“No.” He watches as any retort dies on your tongue, your eyes meeting his head on for the first time. Whatever you see hooks in, refusing to let go. “I’m not letting you go.”

Shivering, you try to tug your arm free, “Jungkook, please. You’re starting to scare me.”

In lieu of a response, Jungkook dips his head, and inhales the scent of your hair. Dragging his nose down the length of your neck as the familiar perfume floods his lungs. Soothes the prowling beast caged in his chest.

A rumble of satisfaction vibrates through him into you, your nipples stiffening against him.

Jungkook sighs, “You always smell so good, baby.”

The tension threaded through your frame releases, your edges softening until you rest against him fully. Shivers race down his spine when your breath tickles his ear.

You call to him softly.

He hums, nuzzling into the side of your head, “Mhm?”

“Can you let me go now? Promise I won’t go anywhere.”

Jungkook pulls back to look at you for several long seconds. Unlatching his fingers, he watches as you flex your wrist. Then reaches up to tenderly curl the digits around your throat, transfixed by the sight.

A hook of arousal sinks into his stomach.

Yanks hard when you gasp at the push of his thick thigh against your pussy, your whine when he flexes the muscle. With a soft cry, you sag into his body while your hands fly up to plant themselves on his biceps.

“K-Kook!”

“Mm, that’s it.”

The bubble of emotions boiling under the surface of his skin is at odds with the satisfaction coiling in his belly, the interested twitch of his cock.

Jungkook rolls his thigh and works you along the length of it. The heat of you burns through the cotton of his lounge pants, so warm and soft and wet.

"Don't--" your protest trails off, smothered by your teeth as your eyes flutter in pleasure. "Hn!"

Shit, he wants to bury himself so deep inside you’ll never forget the stretch. Ruin you so good with his cock you won’t dream of anyone else ever again. He’d make you his and his alone.

Fingers tightening around your neck, Jungkook murmurs, “Let me hear you, baby.”

Unsuccessfully trying to ignore how good the friction is, you shake your head in denial. But there’s no hiding how turned on you’re getting, panties sticky and thighs clamping around his.

You’re absolutely soaked, evidenced by the growing dark patch on his leg as he grinds you into a sloppy mess.

“W-We can’t, Jimin’s h-home.”

Mentioning the other man is a mistake, and you know that.

Jungkook sees the realization light up in your eyes seconds after he tenses, rutting up against you harshly. The bulge of his cock digs into the dip of your hip, throbbing in time with the labored heaves of his chest. 

His kneecap catches, the sharp ridge smashing into your swollen clit. Your mouth drops open, and Jungkook slaps a hand over your face before the wail escapes.

He knows he’s being rough, but the tears in your eyes soothe some of the hurt. And honestly, he can’t bring himself to care overmuch, especially when your hips jerk against his.

“Better be quiet. We don’t want Jimin to hear us,” Jungkook snarls, “after all, what would he think if he saw how bad you’re gagging for your husband’s dick?”

Your indignant response is cut off by another muffled whine, his teeth sinking into the corner of your jaw.

A weak spot of yours - Jungkook abuses it to his advantage. Swiping his tongue through the layer of sweat that clings to your skin, the salt bursting across his tongue.

He groans.

“I don’t give a fuck what you or Jimin think.” His breath puffs warm and moist over your ear, voice whiskey rough when Jungkook says, “You married me. You’re mine, baby, and I don’t share.”

Relocating, his hand releases your throat and finds your hips. He slips under the mid-thigh hem of your oversized nightshirt, and snaps the waistband of your panties with a firm tug.

Pulling the fabric free from between your legs, he tucks the ruined fabric into his back pocket as a souvenir. 

“K-Kook,” you say, voice warbling.

He hums, eyes glittering dangerously as his fingers brush over the top of your slit. Your clit jumps beneath the pad of his finger, swollen and throbbing.

When you hiss low between your teeth, he smirks, and bullies the little nub with rough circles until your hips shift from side to side.

“Ah, shit, baby. Can you hear how sloppy your pussy is?”

Jungkook dips his fingers between your folds, playing with your gummy walls as he gathers your slick, teasing the rim of your entrance. The filthy squelches echo out into the otherwise silent apartment.

He preens, chest puffing up with pride, and says, “He can’t make you feel the way I do. Can he?”

Without warning, he slides two fingers deep inside to the third knuckle. Chuckles when you burrow your face into his shoulder, your nails dragging raised lines of heat down his arms as your walls give, fluttering around his thick digits as you adjust to the stretch.

“Mm, you always take me so well, baby.”

You clench at the praise, and Jungkook pumps his fingers in reward, curling up to massage at the spongy patch of your g-spot. You whine, head tossed back and thighs shaking around his hand.

Pain shoots through the base of Jungkook’s spine, and biting back a curse, he reaches down to adjust his cock from where its trapped against you, swollen and leaking.

“Yeah, you’re such a good girl.”

“Please,” you whine before mumbling something else.

Jungkook’s not sure what it is, but figures it’s not all that important when your eyes roll back into your head and your hips twitch.

You start to bear down on his fingers, walls tensing and releasing.

“Gonna cum?” Jungkook nips at your bottom lip, panting into your mouth and sharing breath as his eyes bore into yours. “Fuck! Do it. Wanna feel you cum all over my hand.”

God, you look so good like this; eyes teary and brows crinkled, sweat-slick and mouth slack. A sight he never wants to be without. His sweet girl, his baby, his wife.

“Yeah, that’s it.” His fingers curl and pulse, pet and stretch. “Now open those pretty eyes.”

A hand curls around your jaw, tugs at your chin.

“Look at me,” Jungkook breathes.

Please.

He watches, greedy, as your lashes flutter, the lids weighted down by pleasure. Eventually, you manage to crack them open, and he ruts forward in response. His groan vibrates his lips as they smash into yours in a violent kiss. 

You pull away with a gasp, slick dripping down your shaky knees. “I can’t - hnggg - fuck, Kook!”

“Tell me who you belong to.”

He’s unforgiving in his demands, a cold fire burning in the depths of his eyes. His cock throbs, his hips trembling with restraint as he stops himself from rutting to completion against you.

His heart hammers against his ribs, and his stomach swoops.

The answer will either make or break him.

Anticipation floods the room with tension; hovering in the air like a word about to be spoken.

“Tell me.”

“I -- you, Kook, I’ve always belonged to you,” you say, clenching down around him. “Please.”

Capturing you with his gaze, Jungkook hooks a thumb into the corner of your mouth. All the hurt, all the doubts, all the rage bleed out of him like water tossed over the embers of a campfire.

Leaving behind the single-minded desire to give you what you want. What you deserve. Because you’re his and the only thing he wants to do is take care of you.

Love you like you deserve to be.

Like only he knows how to.

The taste of your skin is sharp and bright when his tongue flicks against yours, and he hisses into the plush of your mouth, “Cum.”

Keening, your pussy throbs once, twice. Your belly contracts. And then you’re gushing wetly, a warm flood of slick soaking the palm of Jungkook’s hand, dripping down to puddle on the kitchen tile. Your walls ripple, muscles spasming as you shake apart in his arms.

Jungkook holds you through it, soothing the aftershocks as you slump into him - a marionette with its strings cut. You’re cotton soft, cloudy. Head lolling on his shoulder when you look up at his profile with hazy eyes.

“Show off,” you slur when you catch the sight of his satisfied smirk, the puff of his chest as he stares at something behind you. “Can’t believe you made me cum all over Jimin’s kitchen floor.”

The sound of a choked-off, slightly hysterical laugh comes from the entryway, “Oh, I can. Just glad to see you guys finally made up. Now I’m gonna go wash my eyes with bleach.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook imagine

[pinkmirth]

⸻ 𝒦ℰℰ𝒫ℰℛ!

𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮ℐ𝒮 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ you’ve fallen for your darling bodyguard, and you’re over the moon to discover that he feels the same. but this feels borderline forbidden . . . for just how long can you keep what you have with reiner under wraps?

𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜ℐ𝒩𝒮 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ( 5k+ words of . . . ) bodyguard!reiner x fem!reader (black coded), fluff, nsfw, modern au, scion!reader (descending from a rich family/influential bloodline), hyperfeminine ‘girly-girl’ reader, reiner’s german, mutual pining, secret relationship / sneaky link, public display of affection (pda), food play, car sex (unprotected), slight dacryphilia, creampie, use of pet names ( e.g. mama, baby, honey, princess), reader calls reiner ‘ papa, ’ explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!

𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁ℯ 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓁ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇! ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ this post is an answer to an anonymous ask: ‘ what about secret dates (turned sneaky links) with body guard! reiner??? ’ oh. my. goodness! nonnie, you’re a sexy genius and you should know it. tagging the amazing @ramonathinks! she’s the one who even introduced this bodyguard!rei-rei concept to me, and for that i’m so grateful :) ramona my love, thank you again for all the delicious reiner thoughts you always send my way! now enjoy, xoxo ♡︎

reiner’s your bulking shadow, always trailing not far behind.

he’s been hired by your parents to ensure your safety. nothing more, nothing less. he’ll follow your every step and drive you wherever you please; after all, it’s what he’s paid to do.

things started off the way they should— professional. from the very beginning, reiner knew to keep his distance, and that he did. but he soon realized just how hard that would become . . . you’re effortlessly gorgeous, sharp with your words and caring to a fault. his growing affection was only a matter of time.

nowhere on the criteria for the job does it say that he should be developing feelings. observing your habits, committing them to memory and predicting your behavior is the only thing he’s got any business doing. yet, he loves to feel the softness of your palm in his hand when he helps you into the backseat of your car, even if the contact is just for a split second at most. he finds himself peeking glances at you from the rearview mirror, soaking in how pretty you look when you’re unaware of his gaze. in truth, reiner wishes you didn’t have such an effect on him; that would make work-life much easier on his poor soul. well, love isn’t known for being simple, now is it?

it takes about four weeks on the job for him to grow a soft spot for you. reiner’s always been a hopeless romantic, oh-so quick to fall. he’d willingly lay down his life for the sake of your own, and not just because he’s getting a paycheck for it. thanks to the job description, his devoutness isn’t questioned.

before long, reiner can tell you’re becoming attached to him as well. on a fateful night, he even overhears the phone call between you and your friend, something about ‘ mister braun being so sexy that it hurts . . . ’ your bodyguard is nothing if not a man of dignity. he never meant to eavesdrop! it’s just that he's stationed outside your room for night patrol. he’s now especially glad about being up at five in the morning; he wouldn’t have been able to hear this otherwise. your confessions pry a subtle grin from his lips. there he stands, smiling to himself in the dimly lit hallway where nobody can see him blush like a schoolboy.

‘ nuh-uh, i can’t! that man works for my parents . . . he’s completely off-limits. it's a damn shame, isn’t it? ’ you release a sigh, one so exasperated that he can hear it through the other end of the door. call reiner crazy, but it sounds to him like you’re yearning to have him all to yourself. in a sudden moment, you're emerging from the room, donned in a tiny pink nightgown. cute, but thin as fuck. leaves nothing to the imagination, even. it’s the flimsiest thing he's ever seen you wear.

reiner’s cheeks burn so red that is downright embarrassing, thankfully you're unable to see him. he’s quick to lift his head and look towards the ceiling instead— much more suitable than ogling the tits of his very own client. you wouldn’t be able to catch him staring regardless, considering how the entire corridor’s tainted with darkness, but he wouldn’t dare try to steal a peek anyway.

what he can see, though, is your leisurely smile as you tell him you’re headed to the kitchen to grab a cool glass of water.

“would you like to escort me there too, mister braun? or can i go do something by myself for once?”

you’re playing with him, he realizes. just mere teasing meant to be absolutely harmless. your voice sounds much sweeter at this hour; soft and casual, coated lightly with fatigue from a busy day’s schedule.

“as long as we’re indoors, you can go anywhere you like, madam.” says reiner, “i’ll be here if you need me.”

you make your way to the refrigerator, prancing down the mansion’s luxe spiral staircase, and reiner’s rampant heart finally begins to calm. he wonders if you’d meant for him to hear you on that call. (by now, he knows just how cheeky you can be; it was definitely purposeful.) nevertheless, he's got a job to keep. neither your mother or father would respond kindly if they were to find out that he's become attached to you, or vice versa. he can hardly imagine playing the boyfriend when in reality, he’s supposed to be making sure nothing suspicious comes anywhere near a mile-long radius of you . . . it’s laughable! he’s sure your parents have more than enough money to make him disappear in the blink of an eye— that chilling fact alone puts him on his best behavior.

reiner decides to conceal it; the way he feels for you. keeps his back straight and arms folded to portray the unapproachable persona that got him hired in the first place. you eventually decide to question him over why he so-often wears that solid expression, ‘ like he doesn’t know how to smile, ’ is how you put it. it’s the very first time that you ever hear him laugh, and you turn out to like the sound. rumbly and full of bass. he couldn’t bring himself to admit that in every waking moment, it takes everything to suppress his smile whenever he sees you.

eight months of being in his company brings you to notice that reiner’s a decent listener. he makes for a great conversation, too. sure, he’s just your bodyguard, but he’s got a good ear and a smooth voice. your talks with him are always so lovely; he gives you the comfort to open up about things you’d never be able to tell your parents. pride washes over him when you admit that he’s the only one you genuinely trust. and in these moments, reiner allows himself to get vulnerable too. he tells you of his love for football as a youth, how he takes combat classes five times a week, and that he’s got tons of sisters, brothers and cousins back home in the countryside. the pair of you are so different that the contrast could almost be considered terrible. though, the longer you stay in each other’s presence, the less you can bring yourselves to care.

you and your bodyguard have grown . . . close, to say the least. the way you’re always latching onto his brawny form seems much more than friendly, especially to your parents. ‘ i feel secure with him! ’ is your claim. they’d beg to differ, but your wellbeing is enough to keep them satisfied. reiner excels at his job, and more importantly, the big blonde lug makes you happy. nobody they’ve hired in the past was ever able to get in your good graces; you utterly hated all your former bodyguards. they were much too controlling, lingered too close.

but mister braun was able to differentiate himself. he listens to your dreams and fears alike, treats you like a capable woman instead of some spoiled brat. it also doesn’t hurt that he’s incredibly easy on the eyes . . .

reiner can no longer take it. the woman of his dreams is right in front of him, and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. the smoothest advance he can make is standing at your right side and slinking an arm around your waist, with claims of it being for your ‘protection.’ but the both of you know it’s only the proximity he’s chasing after. the way he looms beside you was always more self-indulgent than it was for safety. he just liked the closeness of it all.

he feels so much for you, and he’s virtually dying to tell you. but there’s countless reasons why he shouldn’t— particularly the risk of losing his job. every now and again, reiner chooses to be a little bit stupid, all consequences be damned. he works up the nerve to release his confession with slow and careful words. you quickly reciprocate, arms thrown around the back of his neck and tugging him into a cozy hug. he takes you by the waist and pulls you closer in— god, he’s been wanting to do this for so long. reiner hums when your manicured fingers ghost his nape, nails grazing the ends of his hair, with your tits pressed to his own chest. the pair of you fit better than he ever could’ve imagined.

you don’t know whether to call yours and reiner’s relationship ‘ official ’ — can it really be deemed as such when you’re the only ones who know? you dare not mention this to your parents, ‘cause he’s got a job to keep and you couldn’t possibly bear him not being around.

so, you’ve both decided that it’ll be a secret. shared only between you and him, so nobody’s able to intervene. dating your bodyguard is fun— brief kisses being shared when you’re the only ones in the room. the way he snugly hooks his arm around your body when escorting you feels tighter, a little more intimate. in a way, keeping things under wraps feels exhilarating.

your particular relation with mister braun isn’t verified to the outside world, but people are catching on. whenever you go out, reiner’s sure to follow. paparazzi-taken photos of you are occasionally uploaded to the internet, and it’s always a given that he’ll be included. after several months of being seen together time after time, it’s typical of people to assume that this so-called ‘ bodyguard ’ of yours is more of a boyfriend. they aren’t too far off, but you clearly won’t go out of your way to confirm their suspicions. you’re always captured in a picture of you clinging onto his burly arm with a glossy smile. your sweet expressions contrast nicely with his forever-furrowed brows. he’s handsome in this intimidating way, the tabloids say.

it’s a slow-moving thursday when reiner decides to take you on your first date with him. he waits a good hour and forty-five minutes for you to get ready. he’s used to this, of course. by now, he’s got nearly a year’s experience of waiting on you hand and foot. but tonight, his nerves get the best of him. you finish up when he least expects you to— for fuck’s sake, you even catch him pacing in the goddamn kitchen. the sight of you melts his concerns, just a little. you’re done up glamorously from head to toe, and reiner can’t contain his smile, nor hold back his stare. your light lashes are curled and wispy, with blush scattered along your cheekbones. your plush lips are pink with tint, and you’ve got on this figure-hugging outfit that he’d love to tear off of you.

you scan your surroundings, peering at every angle of your spacious home in search of your parents. after ensuring the coast is clear, you engulf him in your arms, wishing you could kiss him but you’re all dolled up and your lips are lined and glossed. reiner nuzzles his nose into the crook in your neck, inhaling faint traces of your most beloved vanilla parfum.

“god, you look so fuckin’ beautiful,” his whisper is soft against your warm flesh. you rub your hands along his broad shoulders, then slide them down his firm biceps. “and you look sexy in black,” you perk up at him, eyes round and gleaming. he loves you, he’s come to realize. and the last thing he wants is to screw this up . . .

he’s thinking too damn much. you can easily tell. it’s obvious in the way his thin blonde brows wire downwards like something’s wrong.

“reiner . . . stop it.” you order, voice serious. you only ever speak that way when you want his utmost attention. to that, he fixes his posture and stands tall as if he’s on patrol.

“stop what?” is his vague response, hands loosely positioned at either one of your hips. you lift your palms to cup his face, feeling the definition of his high cheekbones and firm jawline beneath your fingertips. he’s gorgeous, you think.

“for one, you’re clenching your teeth,” you mention, caressing his rigid jaw line until the tightness lessens. his stubble’s rough and scratchy, but it fits him so damn well. “and you’re frowing, baby.” next, your thumbs trail up to his brows, gently kneading at the creased arch. “relax.”

“m’sorry,” reiner lets out, tone low and pleading. his hands rub at your sides in an anxious pattern. “it’s jus’ that you’re so important to me . . . i wanna do this right, y’know?”

“i bet you will, rei. no need to worry, hm?” you shoot him a soft smile, and he returns it; one of the rare times you catch a glimpse of his nice and shiny teeth. “now show me a good time, papa.”

right before taking your leave , your parents have questions for you— almost too many. you don’t have any business meetings or mall trips on your schedule, so where on earth is he taking you to? rei-rei claims that he’s bringing you to a new restaurant that you’ve been meaning to try. he’ll drive you there and stay on patrol; or so he says. they decide not to question the unusually neat way his blonde hair is slicked back, or how his black dress-shirt and slacks look sharper than usual. hell, he smells amazing too. it can’t be denied that mister braun cleans up nicely.

see, reiner told a partial truth to your family. you’re on your way to a new german restaurant that’s about twelve minutes out, it’s just that you wanted to try it out with him in particular. on the drive there, you just can’t seem to restrain yourself from gazing at the man. reiner looks so put together like this, in a strapping black outfit that‘s snug against his arms, chest and thighs. his side profile’s flawless— he’s got a perfectly defined nose that slopes down to his lips, and you yearn to lick on his protruding adam’s apple. he’s got one hand on the wheel, merging into lanes and making u-turns, while the other that’s unoccupied intertwines with your softer, smaller one.

upon reaching a red light, he takes the opportunity to lift your hand up to his face, trailing his lips along the back of it. “lieblich . . .” he murmurs something in his native tongue that you can’t seem to understand, though you know its meaning is a sweet one. your grin makes him forget all about the risk he’s taking.

upon reaching your destination, reiner’s back in bodyguard-mode. that’s how he gets whenever you’re in public. yes, you’re on a date, but your safety will forever be his number one priority. he escorts you in with a large hand fit snugly into the small dip of your back as he confirms the reservation. his touch never leaves you, not even for a second. he does that thing; where he takes a brief one-over of the area, scrutinizing his environment before making the next move. you go one, two, three stories up, to the VIP floor where your dinner seats reside.

it’s a lot, he knows— the velvet floors, fancy cream-white seats and glass-like walls that showcase an aweing view of the city. you’re more than used to the finer things in life, so the only thing he wants to give you is what you deserve.

you’re raving on about how nice everything looks, leaning back into your seat as you sip on a flute of sheer-pink rosé. he’s relieved to know that he was able to make you smile tonight. a waiter presents themselves, and reiner effortlessly engages with them in german conversation. his words are smooth and fluid as he translates all the entrée and sides you asked for. even when placing a simple order, he’s still the sexiest man on earth. would now be a bad time to kiss the hell out of him?

the next three hours go by quick. you’re chatting and laughing and trying bits of each other’s platters ( though, it's mostly you eating a over half of the food from his plate . . . ) you got yourself salted-caramel ice cream for dessert, and reiner’s mischievous enough to lean close and lick the dripping residue off the corner of your lips. you gasp at him and deliver a playful kick to his foot from under the table.

“what? you had somethin’ there.” is the given excuse for his rascal behavior. naughtiness twinkles in his golden-brown eyes. there aren’t many people up here on the expensive floor, apart from two other occupied tables located on the other end of the room, and a handful of waiters that leave the kitchen every now and again. he’s lucky there isn’t anyone to catch you both.

“you’re crazy,” your laugh is infectious, “don’t make me return the favor.”

in a quick motion, reiner swipes a finger into the ice cream, his touch meeting a subtle cold. before the caramel gets the chance to melt all the way down the length of his digit, he smears some across his bottom lip. his tongue juts out to lick up the rest of the treat from his index finger.

“oh, please do.”

being away from probing eyes has made reiner bold as ever. you take him up on his request, tilting forward so that your tongue can eagerly swipe over his lips and wipe them clean. mostly sweet, just the tiniest bit salty. you want more of him already.

there’s isn’t a soul watching, so reiner escalates it. in an instant he’s got your lips merging, his hand squeezing your thigh from under the table, hot puffs of air escaping you both. “oh my god— you’re g’na get me in trouble, rei!”

“so be it,” reiner mumbles in reply, his words ticklish against your lips. from underneath his fingertips, reiner senses how tightly you press your thighs together, hungry for friction. he’s even beginning to feel worked up himself. but, the pair of you haven’t gone that far yet. the most you’ve done are hour-long makeout sessions on your king-sized bed in the earliest points of the day, when you have enough privacy to get away with it. but you wouldn’t mind feeling him in a new way tonight . . .

“you wanna get out of here, don’t you, mama?” reiner coos, cheeks rosier with his eyes slightly lidded. “mhm,” you’re quick to agree. so he puts the payment for the meal on his tab, takes your hand in his and leads you back down to floor one until you’re out of the building and back inside your window-tinted g-wagon.

mister braun is big. you’ve always known it from his appearance alone, but fuck, it holds a much greater meaning when he’s got you tucked into the backseat of your mercedes with his slacks pulled down to his ankles and your dress strewn sideways, making a slow attempt to press himself into you.

“fuck. let me in, princess,” reiner’s grunt is low, throaty enough to make you clench. your flesh feels hot and your pussy’s leaking all over the coffee-brown suede seats. he knows well enough to play around with your clit, reveling in the noises you make when his pressure increases. simultaneously, his lips suction at the smooth flesh of your neck. it feels like you’re burning up, and he’s the only one who can quench your fire.

experimentally, his hips tilt forward, and another two inches make its way in. he’s only got his fat tip and then some past that dripping hole of yours, but it’ll take much more to stretch you wide open for him. he’s groaning and muttering all sorts of profanities— about how tight you are, how good you feel, how fucking nasty this is of you.

“c’mon, woman,” reiner sucks a sharp breath into his lungs, goading you on, “lemme fuck this tight pussy.” he’s got you dangerously aroused, done by the effort of a few dirty words. wetness dribbles down from your slit to the place you and reiner carnally join, slicking up his girthy shaft as he continues to break himself past your tight rings of muscle. you claw at his solid arms, basking in the stretch. his size is imposing, forcing you open to accommodate all of him. it burns in the best way possible.

“m—more, papa,” you make out a pretty whine, knowing just how he loves your begging. you’ve got your lips agape, kissed raw from reiner’s earlier advances. you grow restless and begin to rock your hips, aching to take the entirety of him.

“mm, don’t worry, baby. i’ll give it to you so good,” it takes a little more of reiner bucking his pelvis, movements careful and shallow, for him to finally make it in. he’s bottomed out, and you can feel the throbbing from his underside. having you wrapped around him feels so incredibly right. you clench rapidly, enveloping him in an incomparable warmth.

by the time he’s made everything fit, you’re a darling little mess. your hair’s gotten frizzy and your eyes are all big ‘n glassy, with your lower lip tucked underneath your teeth. one moan after another escapes you, streaming into his ears like liquid gold. reiner throbs at the sound of every little mewl. he licks away your tears which you hadn’t even known began to fall, catching them before they can roll down the apples of your cheeks. you love the feeling, it’s just that there’s so much of him to handle at once— his fat cock, searing-hot tongue, large roaming hands . . . he's this close to consuming you whole, and you want him to.

reiner’s attentive with the way he fucks you. out, in, the pattern goes, hips drawing back before he slams back into your shaking frame all over again. he hits so unbelievably deep every time, like the width of him can’t help but prod against every spot you have. he manages to stimulate every inch of your walls, bumping every crook and ridge possible. not a part of you goes unattended to. reiner dips his head low to catch your beaded nipple between his lips, while his cock drives further inside and impels you to make more room, just for him.

as gentle as he may try to be, reiner’s undeniably a hefty man. taking it slow won’t make any difference; every deep plunge he makes into your cunt has the car creaking on its very own wheels.

“i fuckin’ love you,” he drops the heated words, punctuated with drilling thrusts; but the dick’s got you goin’ all dumb on him. it’s cute, he can’t deny, but reiner needs you to know exactly what you mean to him. so he grips at your chin from either side and lightly squeezes your cheeks together, tender with care but steady enough to make your eyes uncross and focus on him alone.

“you hear me? i— goddamnit, love you more than anything. love you so much,” the deeper he pushes in, the less you can manage to breathe. you feel the pulsing of his cock in your tummy, and it’s like the tip snags so deep that it nearly lingers in your throat. you feel yourself bounce against the seat, tits jiggling whenever he sinks inside, draws out, and snaps right back into you. your gut feels tightly wound up, and your pussy’s become impossibly more sensitive.

you’re close, he can feel it. your walls flutter with more ardor than before, squishing against the base of him with a tightness gratifying enough to spur moans from deep within his chest. you even bring your hands down to claw at his asscheeks, firm and round to the touch; the perfect source of leverage.

“r— reiner!” you cry out to him, and he’s sure his name hasn’t sounded so good up until now. he wonders if you can actually hear yourself and just how slutty you sound. “you’re close, aren’t you, baby?” to that you nod, head bobbing desperately. you don’t have to tell him, he knows. reiner’s knowledge is keen on the topic of you. what you like, what you don’t, and when you’ve had enough. now he’s truly taking his sweet time getting to know you from the inside out.

he presses a consoling peck to your forehead, maintaining that undoing pace of his. the repetitive ‘plat’ of his heavy balls smacking into your sticky cunt is dull compared to the huffing, panting and whining, but it’s there in all its vulgarity.

“ooh, i know exactly what y’need, princess. papa’s g’na take care of you . . . ” reiner doesn’t even say it above a whisper, just declares his devotion in the softest way he can. he slips a hand down the middle of your sweat-streaked bodies to bring some attention back to your precious clit, lewdly slick and much puffier than earlier. he gives swift strokes using the pads of his fingers, combined with the fluid roll of his hips, until you're arching into his broad chest and snapping your quivering thighs closed, trapping his wrist in between them.

reiner can unravel you with such ease, like he lives for the sole purpose of your pleasure and nothing else. you convulse against him, so he slows. but reiner hardly lets up. not completely, that way he’s able to ride you through it. he continues on, feeding you shallow thrusts to near his own high. his movements turn borderline erratic; thighs trembling, cock throbbing. he’s so close, “gonna cum,” his warning comes off as a groan, straight from the depths of his gut, erotic and primal. he’s clenching his teeth again— this time, for good reason. “where do y’want me?”

not a second is wasted before you plead, ‘ inside! ’ and with that, you’ve officially fucking broken him. never did he think his wildest dream would’ve come true by the very first date. lucky mister braun, getting to fill you up— especially when it’s what he’s been stroking himself to the thought of every other night. now, you’re practically crying for him to give it all to you. undoubtedly, he will.

he comes through one final, sloppy jerk of his hips. with a breathy grunt released into the car’s stuffy atmosphere , his warm seed spurts into you, tainting your womb. once reiner slips out, his thick cum pours down to present the most obscene view. it’s all so slippery, seeping down until there’s a wet puddle of your and his making beneath your ass. reiner’s body goes lax, thoughtfully balancing himself over you with his face propped onto your boobs. it’s only now that he realizes, legs cramped up, that he’s a bit too large for the backseat.

“ . . . i meant what i said earlier.” reiner’s voice comes off muffled, with his face stuffed between your tits and all. he looks adorable this way, gazing up at you with his lips curled into a slight pout. his arms loop your waist, snug and secure.

“mm, you said a lot of things earlier,” is your soft laugh, recalling his crude mouth and how worked up it made you. he allows you to rake your nails through his short blonde fringes.

“applying for this gig is the best thing that’s ever fuckin’ happened to me,” reiner makes an attempt to sit upright and show his conviction, but he ends up with his back hunched over in the restrictive space. he disregards his comfort and reaches for your hands, clasping them in his own. “i said that i love you . . . and i mean it.” his words are airy. he’s still winded from the sex.

“and i love you,” you mean it, too. with all your being. you love him in a way you've never loved anybody else. mister braun keeps you safe, sprinkles you with compliments, slips on your heels for you, puts you first. he makes you feel like this pairing has a chance, like you don’t have to hide it. besides, he deserves your all. you should be proud to call him yours, and that you are.

reiner always wants your kisses. in the morning when you wake, right before dinner, and as you’ve recently discovered, after sex too. you’re always eager to receive his lips pressed to yours. “i love you,” reiner adds in between pecks. he now says it like it’s second nature— he loves you. it makes your heart leap from beneath your chest. he kneads your bare thighs in his palms, slowly gliding his tongue into your mouth. without shame, you moan against his lips. slivers of spit tether you both even after you part.

“i want everyone to know that we belong to each other, reiner . . . my family, too.” you admit, peering up at his handsome face through your curled lashes. you’ve got your hands planted at his chest, feeling at the solidity of his pecs.

“tonight?” he asks, tone unsure.

“yes, tonight, rei!”

he adores your sudden zeal for honesty. he truly does, but—

“maybe another day would work better, princess,” reiner muses, “when your parents wouldn’t kill me for all those hickeys on your neck.”

©PINKMIRTH! . . . all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. please and thank you! ୨୧

#𝓂𝓎 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓈𝓉ℴ𝓇𝒾ℯ𝓈.ᐟ #reiner braun #reiner smut #reiner braun smut #reiner #reiner fluff #aot smut #snk smut #attack on titan smut #anime smut #reiner braun fluff #aot fluff #reiner braun x black reader #reiner x black reader #x black reader #x black reader smut #aot reiner #reiner braun x reader #reiner x you #aot #attack on titan #aot x reader #aot x reader smut #❥ — reiner! #bodyguard reiner #reiner x reader #reiner x reader smut #aot x black reader #౨ৎ — 𝓂𝓎 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓈𝓉ℴ𝓇𝒾ℯ𝓈! #— (.reiner)

[emiliehornby]

i beg you (and you don’t understand)

pairing luke castellan x fem! child of athena! reader

synopsis luke knew you loved him enough to fight a war for him, but you should have known that history would eventually write you two against each other

warnings MAJOR spoilers for the lightning thief

author’s notes turns out i can’t go too long without writing angst!! so after listening to history of man by maisie peters, i had an idea and completely ran with it. writing this literally had me kicking my feet!! happy first fic of the year!! woohoo!! apologies in advance though lol

Luke had once asked you, “Do you ever think about what our lives would look like if we weren’t here?”

“Like at camp? Maybe a little too much. It’s not like we can do anything about it, but if I get the chance to be with you in every lifetime, it can’t be too bad. Right?” You smiled.

“To Tartarus and back?” He placed a hand on your cheek.

You leaned into him, “To Tartarus and back, baby.”

“Luke. Luke is the traitor.”

Percy’s words swam in your ears. You should have known it when he barely came back alive from his quest and looked for someone to blame. Heck, just last week, Luke had admitted he imagined a future with you, away from the burdens of being demigods. For the first time in forever, he had felt at peace. The signs had been right in front of you…yet you still didn’t see them coming.

Some daughter of Athena you were.

The campers occupying the infirmary came to a stop at Percy’s declaration. As the boy went on to explain how he’d been poisoned by a scorpion and exposed Luke’s vendetta, they hung onto every word. The question as to how the golden boy at camp came to be so angry at the world lingered in the air.

And you hated it.

You stood from beside Percy’s bedside, “Chris…go get Peter, Maisie, and Delilah. If anyone else wants to help, they can. But we have to look for him.”

“On it.” Chris nodded.

“You guys, stay here.” You told Percy, Annabeth, and Grover.

Percy failed to follow your orders. Instead, he staggered outside the infirmary while his friend’s pleas for him to stay were ignored. The son of Poseidon fell into step with you and screamed, “Didn’t you hear what I just said?! Why would you wanna find Luke after what he’s done?”

You turned around, “Because he would have done it for me!” Percy’s body bumped into yours. You reached over at his sides to stabilize him. An ounce of doubt in your own words sparked a slight burn building in the back of your throat. You tried to bite it back, only for it to be replaced with a heavy weight falling onto your shoulders.

“Then if anyone gets to look for him, it should be me.” Percy demanded.

You patted his hair, “And if anyone can get to his head, it’s me, Percy.”

“Where do you want us?” Chris cut your conversation short. Delilah came from behind him, handing over your daggers.

“You guys head towards the North Woods. I’ll be near the border. We’ll circle back at the Big House.” You placed one in your holster, nodding in the direction they were supposed to take. Your friends wished you luck and ran straight through the trees while you pointed a dagger at Percy, “I mean it. Stay here, you’re safer that way.”

You left without another word.

Amidst your search, you bumped into your siblings, who shared sympathetic looks, and other Hermes kids, who offered to accompany you. You insisted on treading this alone, a sense of obligation clouding over you to do so. Luke had been it for you since the beginning, and a twisted part of you didn’t want that to change. If you could just get a moment alone with him, maybe you could convince him the impending war wasn’t worth it. Maybe eventually, the Gods would get their punishments…

You didn’t realize how long you’d been wandering the forest. You dreaded coming back to camp without Luke, taking your time while the sky settled into a warm orange to guide you through your last round of the forest outside the border. You twisted a dagger around your wrist to keep you occupied, coming to a halt when a pile of leaves crunched from behind you. Slowly, you turned around to seemingly nothing, but the tracks in the dirt told you a different story.

You scolded your sister, “It’s not safe out here.”

“Then come back to camp with me.” Annabeth removed her cap.

You shook your head, “I- Look, I can’t.”

Annabeth tried to convince you, “Luke probably left as soon as Percy was poisoned. But the Gods will find a way to deal with him-”

“The Gods shouldn’t have to deal with him! If they didn’t just abandon us, we wouldn’t even be here right now!” Your sister’s face fell as you couldn’t help but raise your voice. When she failed to look at you, you shut your eyes and took a deep breath.

Gods, you just wanted Luke to come home to you. Was that too much to ask?

You waved her over, “Annabeth…come here.”

She listened and you wrapped your arms around her, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I just want to help. Luke was my family too.” Annabeth gave you a squeeze. 

“I know, but you have to listen to me. Okay?” You pulled away to place your hands on her cheeks. For a second, you saw the shadow of your sister at seven years old, the age she was when she first came to camp. You looked her in the eyes to clearly instruct her, “Go back to the cabin. I just need a second.”

“I’m not leaving you here-” Annabeth frowned.

“I’ll be right behind you. I promise.” You reassured her.

Annabeth refused to take no for an answer, “Then I’ll wait for you by the border.”

You pat her head and gently pushed her towards camp, “Go.”

You had barely reached the border when you felt someone staring at you.

“When you said you’d wait for me by the border, I thought you meant you’d be behind it.” You joked around, thinking it was Annabeth.

Instead, a voice replied in the distance, “You know how Annabeth can be with loopholes.” You tightened a grip on your dagger, circling around to pinpoint where the echo came from. When you felt a rustle in the wind, you turned around sharply. The tip of the blade hovered just centimeters away from Luke’s throat.

Your stare hardened, “What’s stopping me from turning you in right now?”

“Easy. You’d never do that to me.” Luke cracked a smile.

You couldn’t even argue with him.

You feared to ask, “So it’s true…what you did to Percy?”

His silence was enough of an answer.

Luke tapped the edge of the blade and moved closer to you. His mere presence rendered you defenseless as you let him take the dagger from you and drop it into the dirt. You faltered when he tried to hold you close, one hand holding his wrist while the other punched at his chest.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re okay.” He took the blows with ease.

You looked up at him, “Luke.”

He couldn’t stop himself from kissing you. His hand cupped at your jaw while you placed your hands on his neck. Like it was muscle memory, he took two steps forward to gently pin you up against the nearest tree. You deepened the kiss, feeling his pulse quicken against your fingers, savoring the moment. Luke was the first to pull away, but he only leaned further into your touch.

“Come with me.” He begged.

“Luke…” You whispered.

He tried to explain himself, “You have to understand…I wanted to give us a chance in this new world that’s waiting for us. I did this for us. So come with me.”

You forced yourself to face reality. You may have stood in front of your past and present, but you had to think about the future. This wasn’t Camp Half Blood. You weren’t playfully sparring for bragging rights or working on strategies in the Hermes cabin to win capture the flag. You lived in a world where a war between the Gods was imminent because of the boy you loved. This is what you had been training for, but you couldn’t do anything to convince him it was wrong.

So you pushed him away.

You yelled, “Annabeth! Chiron! Anyone?!” He spared you a glance before narrowly escaping between the trees. When he was nothing but a shadow, you will yourself to run off as fast as your legs could carry you. You didn’t care that your body felt like it was burning in the pits of Tartarus. You didn’t want to stop until you found a familiar face.

You turned around in case he followed you, even though a feeling in your gut told you that was it. You yelled again, “Annabeth- umph!” You collided straight into the girl, falling just behind Thalia’s tree. You groaned, rolling off of her and wiping your face. Annabeth sat up to check on you, making sure you came back unharmed.

“Annabeth?! Y/N?!” Percy ran in with Riptide in his hand and Grover at his side. You couldn’t help but laugh at the look on their faces.

“Are you okay?” Grover sat himself next to you. His gentle touch on your back turned your laughter into tears. They slowly fell down your face, burying yourself into your hands as you sobbed. Your sister and the satyr were patient while you worked through your emotions, both of them sharing a look before glaring at Percy. Silent expressions were thrown between the trio until a pointed look from Annabeth made Percy sit down in defeat. He used Riptide to draw shapes into the dirt while they comforted you.

You finally lifted your head up, confessing, “Luke asked me…he asked me to join him.”

Grover only asked what everyone hesitated to, “What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t- I can’t believe he would even ask that in the first place. I didn’t know what to do, so I just…I ran. I shouldn’t have run.” Your voice faltered when Annabeth gently wiped under your eyes. Afraid to go deeper into the subject if it meant accepting Luke’s fate, you nodded over at Percy instead, silent “You didn’t have to come in full force, you know. Thank you.”

Percy only shrugged, “Hey, you’d do it for me.”

“I’m sorry, Percy.” You apologized for snapping at him before you left. You apologized for Luke poisoning him. You apologized for the universe that brought him, a child, into this path he didn’t choose to take. 

“Yeah, me too.” Percy was sorry it turned out like this. He was sorry for Luke hurting you, the one he loved the most. He was sorry about the Gods, who could have prevented this if they just loved their children a little more.

You broke his thoughts to beckon him over, “Come over here.”

Hesitantly, Percy obliged. When his feet touched yours, you yanked him down and brought the kids under your arms. They couldn’t help but lean deeper into you, hoping the love you had for each other would get you through the idea of a war you’d have no choice but to inevitably partake in. You pressed a kiss to Annabeth’s head, unaware of Luke, who silently watched you take the kids back to their cabins and turned to leave you behind.

One day, you’d find it in yourself to heal from the betrayal that blindsided you all. But you were his weakness, and it would only be a matter of time before someone took advantage of that. It wouldn’t be long until you met again.

After all, history had its eyes on you two.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson imagine #luke castellan #annabeth chase #grover underwood #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #stevie writes!

[hopelessromantic5]

King Arthur happens to be traveling through Ealdor the exact day the citizens decide they’ve had enough of Merlin.

Labeling him too dangerous, they tied him up on the pyre in the center of town.

As long as Merlin had been alive, he’d never seen this pyre lit.

He would’ve just gotten himself out of this situation with his ‘gifts’ if it weren’t for his poor mother.

The villagers would never let her live in peace if he magically disappeared.

No, this was the only way she could go on living, even with a broken heart.

He didn’t fight. He didn’t really hear much of what they spit at him. But he could hear his mother wailing at him, to save himself, to do whatever he must do.

He’d resigned himself to an early death.

Tom, the town representative, started spewing some righteous words at him. New Religion words that didn’t quite make sense to him, but that’s to be expected. He is, himself, a creature of the old religion, if prophecy is to be trusted.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself, serpent?”

Merlin opened his mouth to tell his mother that he loved her, but he stopped short.

In the distance, he could hear a sound.

The beating of hooves on hard, cold dirt.

Visitors were approaching.

It must be fate, he thinks.

As the horses drew closer, the villagers slowly turned their attentions away from him.

Merlin simply hung his head, letting the Earth he loved so dearly decide which way his life would swing.

“What is the meaning of this?”

A calm, steady voice came from behind him. Deep and concerned. Merlin wished he could see the man.

“My lord,” Tom bowed, as well as he could, which was strange.

Upon realization, Merlin’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, were these visitors noble? They never had nobility stay long enough to make comments on anything, only ever just passing through.

“I asked you a question.” The voice said again, with all the authority of someone who’s used to using it.

“This man is a sorcerer, sire. We were just-“

“What has he done?”

“Sire?”

“What has this man done to call for these extreme measures?” When no one answered him immediately, he rephrased.

“Surely there must’ve been a crime committed?” As if it’s a question.

Merlin’s mother pulled herself out of shock and brought herself forth.

“He did nothing, sire.” She spoke firm and unmoving. She must’ve seen hope in this man that Merlin had yet to lay eyes on. “He’s only ever used it for healing wounds and helping our gardens in the winter. Please have mercy on him, my lord. He is my only son.” Tears started falling as her voice broke. She finally met Merlin’s eyes again and he smiled at her, weakly.

“So this man-“

“Sorcerer.” Corrected Tom. What a dick.

“This man, did nothing but heal you and help you survive and this is how you repay him?”

Again no answer.

The man seemed to gesture at Tom, walking towards the town elder, and bringing him finally into Merlin’s line of sight.

The doomed boy nearly gasped.

Silver and red bled together in the sun, armor and finery melded like roses in white sand.

The man-the lord…the knight? He had golden blonde hair, that shone like it’s own light.

Blue eyes made even more obvious and striking surrounded by unblemished, sun-kissed skin.

“You seem to be leading the horde. Tell me why?” No, answer. “Cut him down.” A command. The stranger’s face was a hard, blank line.

Funny how, even then, he didn’t feel like a stranger. But Merlin was in no state to remember it.

“My lord, I do not think that would be wise. Your father was the one to wage war on magic-“

“I am not my father. Cut him down.”

Merlin swallowed. Uther Pendragon was the only person in his mind that waged the war on magic, that began the purge. Which means this man could only be his son, Prince Arthur.

What a prince he was.

Well, King, now.

No wonder every person in the vicinity practically dropped to their knees upon his arrival. They’d all heard stories of ‘The Just King’ that now reigned over Camelot. Giving whatever he could to his citizens that needed it most, never turning anyone away who seeks shelter. Merlin had heard the same as everyone else. Seeing the King in person now, he was in awe.

“I will not endanger the lives of all who live here.” Tom turns back to Merlin with the lit torch.

Merlin held his breath, but the second Tom turned away from him, the King pulled his sword. It made the loveliest sound as it left the sheath.

The sound of salvation.

Tom had the tip of a majestic blade directed right at his throat, as the King spoke again.

“I said, cut him down.”

The look on the King’s face was one that could kill.

Merlin wondered momentarily why he cared so much.

Finally someone from the crowd stepped forward with a knife and began to cut away Merlin’s ties.

Hunith leapt forward and engulfed her son in a hug, while also somewhat holding his body upright.

He did not want to let go, considering he thought he would never get to hug his mother again. But the entire village was watching them.

As was-

“What is your name?”

It was phrased as a question but spoken like a command. Merlin knew it was directed at him without opening his eyes.

He did, reluctantly, release his mother and turn to the golden King, facing deep blue eyes head on. Never cowering.

“Merlin.”

The King must’ve seen something in him. Something every other person was blind to or chose to ignore, simply because he was a peasant. He took a step closer and Merlin could hear the tiny tink of metal pieces on his shining armor, as he did so.

“Well, Merlin.” He said, as if trying it out for himself. “Seeing as I’ve just given you your life, I’d like to ask a favor.”

Merlin’s curiosity was peaked, to say the least. King’s didn’t ask favors, they took whatever they wanted.

King Arthur did not wait for a reply to continue.

“I’m in need of assistance. And I could use someone with a gift like yours, specifically.”

Merlin narrowed his eyes in minuscule doubt. Doubt of intentions, doubt of his safety.

The King somehow knowing his exact thoughts said

“Of course you would be permitted to come back when you are needed. And when I have accomplished my goal, if you wish, you can leave. I will not keep anyone against their will. I am simply offering.” A small smile played on his mouth. Flush pink lips. He also held up his hands as if to say ‘I will not harm you’.

Merlin’s gut told him to follow this man.

Terrifyingly, his intuition told him to follow this man, practically a stranger, anywhere. Everywhere.

Merlin felt a pull he’s never felt before. In the moment, he assumed it was immense gratitude for saving his life.

Merlin turned to meet his mothers eyes, he already knew what she was going to tell him.

“I think it will be good for you. To get out for a while.” She smiles softly.

“Will you be alright?” He whispered, glancing at the crowd still gathered around an unlit pyre.

“I’ll be fine.” She grabbed him in a bear hug, like she always did. “And if they boot me out, I’ll come find you.”

Merlin sighed into her shoulder.

“Alright.”

When Merlin turned back, the King had turned his eyes to the ground, giving mother and son a moment of privacy.

Merlin was starting to warm to him already.

“Can I pack first?”

King Arthur met his gaze then, doing that half smile thing, again.

“I suppose.” He nodded. “But don’t dawdle we need to move if we want to make it back before sundown.”

“Yes, sire.” The title which usually held reverence and respect, was laced with sarcasm. He didn’t seem to think twice, as he strode away towards their hut to gather his things.

If Merlin had looked back, he would’ve found a fully beaming King looking after him and about six knights with faces of complete shock.

And perhaps, one knowing mother.

#merthur #merlin #arthur pendragon #merthur fic #merlin and arthur #hunith #king arthur #Ealdor #might continue #longer version will probably be on ao3