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#he's still not physically very strong mind you
belle--ofthebrawl · 3 days
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Any Aether/Ifrit thoughts?
One time I shattered a jar thinking about Aethfrit.
I think...Ifrit's an instigator. I think he likes to tease and play and wrestle as a way to bond, very physical with his affection. Grabby. Oohs and aahs over Aether's vessel, compares hand sizes and squeezes his biceps to get a feel for his strength and Aether allows it with a sheepish grin. (He might be peacocking a little bit for the pretty water ghoul watching the antics nearby as he smokes...)
"We're pretty matched!" Ifrit says. "Wanna arm wrestle for top bunk?"
Now Aether's more than happy to just give it to him if he asked but there's a light in Ifrit's eyes that's begging for a challenge, and he's scraping his shoe across the ground like a bull about to charge. Aether doesn't need his quintessence to tell him Ifrit's got way too much energy to sit still on that first long flight and a couple rounds might be just the thing to help him settle down.
Ifrit's palm is fever-hot against his skin, his grin reckless and wild as Mist counts down. Aether can already tell it's going to be close as she signals them to start and they push against each other. Aether can't help but grin right back at Ifrit when he realizes they're not using their full strength. It goes on for what seems like forever; one will lose an inch, the other will take it back. Ifrit's palm grows hotter with exertion, Aether calls on the chill of the void to fight back. Steam erupts where their hands meet, they're locked eye to eye, heedless of the world around them until someone yells and the whole table shatters; burnt black on Ifrit's bench, frozen brittle on Aether's. They look at each other through the rubble and burst out into laughter, helping each other up.
"Looks like we're sharing that bunk." Aether teases, taking Ifrit's now significantly cooler hand in his own warm one. "Not claustrophobic, are you?"
'I don't mind a tight squeeze." Ifrit says with a wink.
Now you know damn well what's under this cut
They run into each other in the abbey hallway later that night on their way to the other's room. Ifrit snickers, not unkindly, and catches Aether's hand again. Swings it as he walks and the casual chatter easily erases any awkwardness as they head back to Aether's room. Aether opens the door for him like a gentleman; Ifrit shoves him through and kicks it shut before tackling him on the bed in a kiss that's more teeth than lips. Biting him everywhere Aether encourages, leaving pretty bruises around his nipples that Aether mirrors on him when he realizes how much Ifrit likes his own pectorals lavished with attention. Maybe Aether wouldn't have found out about his own preferences as fast if Ifrit hadn't mapped out every sensitive point on his body that night.
Ifrit doesn't have the majority of his tattoos I like to think he has, but he's definitely gotten started. Some are mundane, just for visual appeal but there's one in particular he's started just under his belly button. When Aether touches the tip of his tongue to the ink, it tingles and Ifrit's cock flexes where it's pinned under Aether's chest.
"Ticklish?" Aether teases as Ifrit squirms in delight.
"Little more than that." Ifrit huffs, and tries to shove Aether down further, bucking his hips and leaving pre smeared on the soft underside of his chin. So naturally, Aether has to pin those hips down so Ifrit doesn't go buck wild and gag him when Aether sucks his cock. Ifrit squeezes his legs around Aether's torso in revenge, Aether reaches up to tweak a nipple and somehow they're wrestling again. Pushing their cocks together, rutting against strong thighs. Ifrit's devilish fingers poke and prod the rolls of Aether's stomach, get him wheezing as Ifrit whispers, "Now who's ticklish, huh?" as Aether's tip starts to leak steadily. "Big guy like you and it's all undone with a few fingers."
"I'll show you my weak point I'd you promise not to use it against me." Aether breathes and when Ifrit's fingers wiggle their way inside, warm and wet with lube, the fire ghoul kisses him so sweetly they both forget it started out so violently. It's a test of Aether's endurance next as he rides first Ifrit's fingers and then his cock, bouncing slow and gentle, saving his stamina to see how long they both can last.
Knowledge Aether is infinitely grateful for when he finally tumbles into bed with Dewdrop later on.
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eightballspins · 2 days
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(〃ω〃) soul reuniting with his streamer bf
pairing : soul (p1harmony) x male reader
warnings: none :)) oh wait, reader is japanese - speaks japanese and a lil korean - but other than that theres no physical description being described so i hope it still is relatable (he had to b japanese for the plot ‼️)
rating : just fluffy pining and subtle (not so subtle) clingyness from shota <3 abrupt ending (?) a lil bit, sawrryyy
-> pt. 1 , maybe a short series because i feel this is just too cute + i feel like this was written rlly messy so pls excuse that and just look at how cute soul is pls.
wk : 4.1k+
the two of you met way before he even became a trainee and stayed close throughout his whole journey. being one of the few people he kept close from his hometown, he is always eager to talk to you and catch up — even if you guys are now very far from each other.
while he pursued his dream of becoming an idol, you were working towards your own, which was to become a popular streamer. with how oversaturated the market is, it took you quite a while to make a name for yourself. luckily, you had a strong support system in shota and the loved ones surrounding you. and all the hard work and effort you put into this dream eventually paid off, in two years time you were a well known name in the gaming community, not just in japan, but internationally.
shota liked tuning into your streams whenever he could, playing them around the dorm and watching them at full volume as he was entranced completely by you. the members wondered why he would be so invested in your streams, beginning to recognize your face from how often shota would watch, but did not know how deep your relationship with the boy was.
he kept his love life a secret from everyone, including the members, to play it safe. he was still young and even though he knew how much he loved you, he doubted he would be able to convince those around him how serious this relationship was for him and they’d just end up forcing a break up to happen between you two. he knew he could trust the members to not be completely doubtful of his relationship, but he still didn’t really see a rush in telling them.
meanwhile, since they thought that he was just watching some random dude streaming, they didn’t pester him about it, noticing that you were japanese and immediately marking it up to shota finding some sort of comfort to his homesickness.
“sho, guess what?”
he immediately made a face at the question, making you laugh at his suspicions.
“what?” he asked, wondering what had you so smiley. naturally, it made him smile in return, ear to ear with his eyes crinkling at the ends.
you didn’t say anything, instead showing him the plane ticket that was in your hand, as well as the passport that was accompanying it. he leaned forward to the phone screen, eyes comically blowing wide as he physically jumped into the air.
“oh my god!” he exclaimed in english, making his members snap their head in his direction at the sudden screech. he began giggling like a kid, running in place to physically get out all of his emotions of excitement and anticipation. “are you serious? are you really coming?!”
the members looked at each other in confusion, wondering if any of them could translate what he was saying from japanese to korean. then they watched in even more confusion with the way he threw himself into his room and shutting the door behind him rather excitedly.
“yep! my flight is in thirty minutes, i’ll be there in, hm, 3 or 4 hours?” you grinned, trying to be mindful of your volume as people were beginning to stare at you for your excited whispers to your phone.
“[name]! you’re really coming?!” he repeated again, throwing himself onto his bed and hugging one of the stuffed plushies you had bought him. “are you really coming?”
“yes, shota! why else would i be at the airport?” you laughed, spinning the camera around to show your surroundings, “i think i might have to hang up soon though, the people are starting to whisper about me,”
“no, no, stay on the phone until your plane leaves! promise, i’ll be quiet,” he pleads, looking at you with nothing but adoration and love, hugging the plushie tight as he imagined it were you instead. well, it would be in a couple of hours, which he found to be unbelievable.
“hm, ok, ok, until the plane leaves then,” you agree, nodding and internally cooing at how cute your boyfriend is, “what should we do when i get there?”
“eat! eat!” he chants, “then shopping? we have to get you some souvenirs. wait, how long are you going to be staying? do you already have a hotel? maybe the managers will let me have you stay in the dorm-”
his rambles continued on beyond that, the words leaving his lips before he could realize. but you simply let him go on, smiling at the animated expressions he was using while he talked and how audibly excited he was at your surprise visit.
“no, no, don’t, i already have a hotel booked, it should be pretty close to your dorm…if i was understanding the directions correctly when i booked,” you commented, crossing your fingers for shota to see, “my korean still isn’t the best, but i’ve been studying for a long time,”
“it’s probably better than mine,” he comforts, making you frown at his comment. he raises his hand in defense, swiftly apologizing for the slight self-deprecation.
“i’ll be there for about a month? i didn’t know your exact schedule, so i wanted to stay for a while in case it overlapped-”
“we already finished promoting for our recent song, so we don’t really have anything scheduled — besides morning and afternoon practices and lessons,” shota explained truthfully, grin widening as he realized he’d actually get to spend a lot of time with you.
“then, that’s perfe-”
you were cut off as there was an announcement made for you flight, making it known that boarding was beginning. shota frowned at the news, but reminded himself he’d finally get to see you in person in a few hours.
“i’ll see you soon, sho! promise the time will go by like this,” you snapped your fingers, making shota anxiously-excitedly toy with the soft fabric of the plushie.
“bye, i love you,” he says quickly, waving his hand towards the camera.
“i love you too, shota, i can’t wait to see you again!”
a blush is present on both of your faces at the farewell, but thankfully the camera doesn’t properly pick it up. you hang up after a couple seconds of waving bye, making shota turn onto his bed with a dreamlike look on his face.
in a split second, he’s turning over onto his stomach and making all sorts of noises into the thick mattress below him and ruining the neatness of his sheets as he flails around in bed. he thinks about how this would be the first time in about six years you two would see each other. and he gets all flustered at the idea, wondering how you have changed — how he’s changed and how you would react to it.
you’ve talked almost every single night since he’s left japan, but facetimes and phone calls can’t compare to the real thing. and he now feels nervous, butterflies in his stomach as he continues kicking into the bed.
“soul? what are you doing?” jongseob asked, peering into the room with a confused look on his face.
he stills in his actions, looking up from the pillow at his close friend and weakly replying, “boyfriend is coming.”
jongseob blinks several times before repeating what soul said, in a loud, shocked tone, “your what?!”
“boyfriend,” shota says, enunciating the syllables, “is coming. here. now.”
“what?! since when did you have a boyfriend?!”
“a what?!”
now the other members are barging into the room and surrounding soul, who’s still in a panic over how you’ll react to seeing him in person for the first time. keeho takes a seat next to him, placing both of his hands on his shoulders, “repeat what you told jongseob,”
getting tired of the entire interviewing process, shota speaks in a clear, definitive tone, “my boyfriend from japan is coming here, now. he’s on a flight, now!”
there’s silence that falls over everyone, taking in the words.
“well, that’s good, right?” keeho tries looking at the positive side, refusing to question shota further on why he never said anything about having a relationship, instead choosing to be comforting rather than demanding.
“no — well, yeah it is, it is! but what if he doesn’t like me anymore?” shota whispers, feeling himself grow more self conscious as he realizes what he had just said to his members.
“okay well, since we know nothing about him since it’s our first time hearing of him-” jiung slaps keeho on the back of the head, making the leader clear his throat and reword his sentence, “well, we don’t know much about him, but i’m sure him coming all the way here for you is a clear sign that he still likes you, shota,”
he remains silent, fiddling with the rings adorning his fingers. the others watch on, anxious and too shocked to really say anything else. so he shoots up from his bed, grabs his towel, and rushes to the bathroom to shower and freshen up, and also clear his thoughts.
in the newfound silence of the bedroom, they all look at each other.
“shota has a boyfriend?” intak repeats, still not believing the news, “why didn’t he tell us?”
keeho shrugs, that question being the main thing on his mind. he wonders if soul was burdening himself with such a secret for a long time and frowns as he thinks about how there might be more that he’s hiding.
“well, let’s not question him too much about it, if this guy is on a flight right now, that means that he’s gonna be here in a couple of hours. just, pretend that everything is normal, alright?” keeho advises them all, motioning for them to leave the room to give shota privacy when he gets out of the shower.
after the flight that was a little over three hours long, you finally touched ground in south korea. you felt both giddy and nervous over being reunited with your boyfriend after so long, but tried to not focus on the nerves too much. after going through airport security and securing your luggage, you opened an app on your phone, about to call for a taxi to take you to your hotel, but a shadow standing in front of you distracted you.
looking up in confusion, your furrowed brows became relaxed the moment you recognized who it was. it took a couple of seconds considering they were wearing a beanie that covered their hair and a mask.
but you could easily recognize shota’s eyes from a mile away.
he was standing in front of you with a bouqet of flowers proudly in front of him, as well as a plushie keychain of sorts also attached to the bouqet.
“sho-chan!” you cried out, pulling him into a hug immediately, which he reciprocated in a second. the flowers were crushed in between the both of your chests, but neither of you minded. he rocked the two of you back and forth, the mask on his face covering his grin, as he breathed in your scent. “why are you here? what if you get caught?”
“i needed to see you,” he whispered, still holding you so tight it was borderline suffocating. his arms were around your waist as his hands went up and down your back, fingers slightly digging into the fabric of your clothes. as if he were grabbing for you, trying to understand that you really were in front of him.
this wasn’t one of his dreams.
“i missed you so much,” you said, smiling into his chest as he kept running his hands up and down your back. you tried pulling away, but he was pretty adamant in keeping you against him. it took pinching his side with laughter before he could release you. and even then, he still had his arm around your shoulder to keep you close. “so, what are you do-”
“[name]-san! welcome to korea!”
it was a sudden exclamation of pretty off-sounding japanese. you looked behind shota and saw five heavily disguised individuals holding a sign reading the words they had just said, as well as one of them holding flowers.
“what is going on?” you ask, voice breaking into laughter at the awkward scene.
“my members, they wanted to come so that they could say hello to you,” shota explained quickly, “i just told them today, that you were my boyfriend, so i think they were really excited…they seem more excited than i do,”
you watched shota’s reaction carefully, to see if there was any hint of how they took the news, but he was just relaxed and embarrassed of their activities, not at all spiteful or hurt. so you simply smiled, taking his hand in yours and walking forward.
“thank you so much for the warm greeting,” you bow in thanks, taking the flowers from theo, and looking at each of them, “we can just speak in korean, by the way, no need for japanese,”
“yeah, they don’t speak it well anyway, so i doubt you’d be able to understand anything they said,” shota teases in his mother tongue, making you smack him on the chest as a way of scolding him for being so mischievous. but he only smiles wider, grabbing your hand in his and swinging it back and forth. “should we go?”
the rest of the members watch his comfortabilty with you, fond smiles on their faces, before nodding and agreeing that they should leave the airport before someone notices them. shota makes sure to stay close, holding you tight with a grin that he can’t wipe off of his face the entire time.
”so, [name], how did you and soul meet?” keeho asked, closing the door behind him as everyone was settled into the van. you sat at the window seat, shota next to you and jongseob on his other side. the remaining four were sitting in front of you, being able to look at you directly with the way the van’s seats were positioned.
“me and shota have known each other before he even came to korea for training,” you explained carefully, trying to keep the vocabulary simple so you didn’t confuse yourself, “childhood friends,”
“so when did you two starts dating?”
you look at shota, trying to remember the exact amount of time. he giggled quielty, deciding to answer, “i asked him to be my boyfriend a couple of months after our debut,”
the members tried fighting off the look of surprise on their faces, but it was hard when the news was so ground breaking. since debut, soul had been successful in keeping his relationship with you hidden.
“wait — hold on,” intak clapped his hands, pointing a finger at you with shock painted across his face. keeho smacked his pointing finger down in a second, glaring at the third youngest for his behavior, “i know you! i know your face!”
you became bashful, nodding your head at the man’s exclamation.
“wait, intak how do you know him?” jiung asked, confused even more, along with the rest of the members.
out of nowhere, theo was next to shout out, “oh! i know you too! this is crazy!” he said, looking at you and soul with wide eyes, “you never told us he was the one you always watch,”
“guys, what are you talking about?” keeho asked, making theo and intak both shout at the same time: “the streamer soul is always watching!”
shota covers his face in embarassment of his members’ antics while jiung, jongseob, and keeho all make sounds of realization.
“you’re so cool!” keeho says suddenly, also putting two and two together, “me and soul were watching you together one day, you’re really good at game. how did i not recognize you?” the last part was rhetorical, of course, but you simply shook your head in bashfulness.
“wait, this is so cool, soul’s dating him!” jongseob said, grinning ear to ear as he slaps shota’s shoulder several times. then he looks at you with a kind smile, “i watch your streams sometimes, you’re really cool!”
“huh? since when?” soul asked, hearing that piece of news for the first time.
“since i started playing honkai, he’s got good builds,” jongseob shrugs, looking at you with a kind smile, “wow, you look different in person, in a good way!”
shota rolls his eyes at jongseob’s compliment, but you thank him with a genuine smile and nod of your head.
“that’s really nice of you guys, i didn’t know shota would be watching it that frequently,” you said, feeling shy at the fact that these guys have probably all seen you look your worst on streams where you didn’t really care for your appearance.
”he watches you allll the time,” intak adds on, “always on his phone watching you!”
“and with no headphones, it’s at full volume too,” jiung says, briefly scowling at soul before sweetly smiling at you, “i guess he was just so proud that he wanted everyone in the dorm to know,”
shota waves his hand and makes noises to tell them to shut up, but their exposing of him doesn’t end there. they keep telling more and more about his behavior whenever he watched your streams, the entire car ride consisted of that while shota tried getting them to stop.
but you took each thing they said to you with a genuine smile and thankful nod. you were internally relieved that they were all very accepting and not even paying any mind to the fact that you and shota were both boys dating, just treating your relationship like any other — which you appreciated.
the entire car ride was light hearted and full of laughter, plus shota making embarrassed noises whenever they exposed him of his very down bad behavior that they were also piecing together. whenever shota would get particularly embarrassed, he’d hide into your shoulder and whine audibly enough to the point they also began teasing him for that.
finally, the van arrived to their dorm and they quickly explained, “let’s just eat dinner first before you go to your hotel room,” and they all seemed too excited to deny, since you thought that it would have been too burdensome. but with the way they were so eagerly guiding you to the building made you feel too welcomed to refuse.
“we tried cleaning up before you came, so if there’s any mess, please excuse it,” keeho says softly, looking a bit embarassed, but you just shake your head and tell him it was fine. shota is still lingering incredibly close, standing behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist.
“we bought a mix of korean and japanese food, so hopefully you find something you like,” jiung says, motioning for you to take a seat across from him and smiling excitedly at the sight of the food, “everything looks really delicious. i want to try the curry,”
“it smells very good, too,” you comment, the aroma of all the food surrounding you all. they all agreed with moans of pleasure, excited to finally dig in and soon, they were all grabbing their own pair of chopsticks and grabbing pieces of the food.
shota grabbed at least one piece of everything for you, excitedly watching you react to each thing you tasted. his dark eyes were seemingly permanently resting in a crescent position and his cheeks were always raised high due to his smile.
“is it yummy?” he asked after feeding you a spoonful of spicy tofu stew. you nodded with sounds of approval at the food, making the other member chuckle in agreement.
“here, try this one,” shota repeats, holding a piece of an unknown dish to your mouth. his hand is resting underneath it in case he needs to catch it. opening his mouth as he feeds you, eagerly awaiting your reaction once again.
he did this with every dish that was on the table, grinning happily and shaking your hands together every time you enjoyed it. jiung had to physically restrain himself from showing any sign of giddiness at how adorable the two of you were.
“so, what do you have planned while you’re in seoul?” keeho kindly asked.
soul was eagerly waiting for your response wanting to get any hint of anything that the two of you could be doing for the entire month you were together. trying to ignore his adorable eyes planted on you, you looked directly at keeho, “i have a lot of things i want to do and see, like the traditional villages and stuff, but also the other tourist spots…i’ve never been to korea before so i’ll be happy to see anything! i do have some stuff planned with shota, but, i can’t spoil them,”
the boys all nodded in understanding, looking pleased at the information.
“well, if you ever need anything, we’ll all be here for you,”
you thanked them for being so kind and that was the wrap up of your meal. shota was quick in pulling you away, the others not minding that he was skipping out on cleaning up since he was so visibly excited to be with you. he carried you into his shared room with jongseob by your waist, falling onto the mattress with a satisfied sigh.
despite not seeing you for so long, the level of comfortability was not at all forgotten. his awareness of his skin against yours was enough to make him crave it more, burying his head into your neck and tightening his hold around your waist. you laughed at the ticklish sensation, feeling his smile press against your skin.
you rolled over a couple of times until you were in a comfortable position. shota moved up to sit against the wall, letting you sit on his lap with your legs on either side of his, and resting his hands in yours, holding on tight.
“i can’t believe you’re really here,” he sighs, eyes blown wide as he takes the sight of you in, “i missed you so much, [name], you wouldn’t believe it,” his voice is quiet and soft, as if he wants these words to only exist in this moment alone.
his hand gently moves to rest on your cheek and your scared that he’d feel just how hot your skin was from the close proximity and his heartfelt words. but he can only smile at you so fondly, the cool feeling of his rings against your skin calming your racing heart (to an extent).
“always wanted to go back home to you,” he whispers, his other arm moving to wrap around your waist. he leans forward, making your chests meet at the sudden closeness, as well as vice grip around your middle half making you forcefully press against him.
“i missed you too, shota,” it’s soft, but he catches it and he smiles ear to ear at the confession.
“can i kiss you?”
it takes a couple of seconds to process what exactly he had said, but when it finally does click all you can manage is a nod. it’d be your first kiss together, but there wouldn’t be any more perfect of a time than now to have one. reunited after years of being apart, forcing a long distance relationship that you both knew would have sparse amounts of support.
his eyes are trained on yours, until he eventually flutters his eyes shut and leans in for the softest kiss in the world. he squeezes you closer, practically melting into you as he tries so hard to keep your lips on his for as long as possible.
when the two of you have to pull away, he’s already grinning ear to ear with a healthy blush on his face.
“i love you so much, [name],” he gently says.
it’s the easiest thing in the world to reply back, “i love you too, shota,”
┆pt. 2 would probably be more centered around how reader being a streamer acc impacts the plot lmao (like random ass ppl recognizing him on the street - which i think would b rlly funny)
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ruddyhotelau · 2 days
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What canl you tell me about the other archangels (besides Lucifer and Michael) in your AU?
I will give you the whole background information for all of them, Lucifer include
Saint Michael - Justice
- The eldest child (he/him)
- Position: Archangel, the General of the God’s army, the highest Prince
- Personalities:
+ Strict
+ Absolutely loyal to God, always put Heaven as top priority
+ Hard on himself both physically and emotionally
+ High egotistical
+ Workaholic
+ Irritated most of the time (good at hiding it in front of other angels except from his siblings)
+ Bad at emotions
+ Hates crowded place and associating with people
+ Keeps his face neutral and solemn most of the time
- Tattoo location: Left deltoid
Lucifer Morningstar - Aspiration
- The 2nd child (he/him)
- Position: Seraphim
- Personalities:
+ Was considered an “outcast” in Heaven
+ Awkward
+ Ambitious
+ Idealistic dreamer
+ Quite careless
+ Emotional
+ Silly and theatrical
+ Terrible at lying most of the time
+ Felt lonely sometimes
- Tattoo location: Back of right hand
Saint Ralphael - Kindness
- The 3rd child (he/they)
- Position: Archangel
- Personalities:
+ Calm
+ Patient
+ Kind
+ Elegant
+ Mother vibe
+ Gentle
+ The one who can understand and sympathize with humans the most
+ The good kid who never cause troubles
+ VERY scary when angry (Michael approves)
- Tattoo location: Left upper arms’s palm
Saint Gabriel - Faith
- The 4th child (he/she/they)
- Position: Archangel
- Personalities:
+ Friendly
+ Rumors seeker and drama enjoyer
+ Energetic
+ Talkative
+ Heaven’s “journalist”
+ Like to tease and pull pranks on everyone (especially on Michael after all of Heaven knows about his relationship)
+ Extrovert
+ Knows almost everyone in Heaven
- Tattoo location: Right ankle
Saint Uriel - Wisdom
- The 5th child (they/them)
- Position: Archangel
- Personalities:
+ Carefree
+ Chill
+ Wise
+ Book addicted
+ Knows everything but at the same time clueless to their surroundings
+ Anti-social but doesn’t mind their sibling's company
+ Neutral face most of the time
+ Acts like a mad scientist when one of their experience succeeded, both in science or magic
+ Aside from reading and researching, their other hobby is sleeping and counting stars.
+ Tattoo location: Middle of the forehead
Saint Jophiel - Beauty (yellow)
- The 6th child (she/her)
- Position: Archangel
- Personalities:
+ Friendly
+ Kind
+ Selfless
+ Humble
+ Always sees the beauty in everything and believes that inner beauty is more important than outer appearance
+ Looks like a bunny, fights like a bear and is elegant like a peacock
+ Loves classical music and heavy metal rock
+ Appeared dreamy most of the time
+ Artistic person
- Tattoo location: Right collarbone
Saint Chamuel - Peace
- The 7th child (he/him)
- Position: Archangel
- Personalities:
+ Fashionable
+ Sly
+ Heaven’s “relationship counselor”
+ Drama enjoyer
+ Understanding and sympathetic
+ Straight femboy
+ Slay bitch with snarky comments
+ Silver tongue
- Tattoo location: Left chest
Saint Azrael - Death
- The 8th child (he/him)
- Position: Archangel
- Personalities:
+ Shy and quiet
+ Mysterious
+ Into dark humour
+ A softie
+ Is often mistaken as a scary guy
+ A good listener
+ Opens up more to his siblings
+ Strict and serious about his job but still very kind to the good souls that he guides but shows no mercy to souls who were terrible people
- Tattoo location: Nape
*)The tattoo was Lucifer's idea. He designed it since he was very young and recommended to his siblings that they should all share this mark together. This is the special mark that represents the strong bond between the siblings. Later, even after Lucifer has fallen, none of them erased the tattoo. They all still kept it till now.
This is what the tattoo looks like, each siblings have a different color for their tattoo
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jokerislandgirl32 · 3 days
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Zach, what’s your opinion on the other villains?
Ohhh, good question, that’s a bit of a complicated question, but one I’ll answer!
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I’m answering it with the relationship between me and Violet in mind (and JIG’s Wild Violet AU), and a potential spoiler for the latest Wild Rat special, so I’ll put the answer below a cut as JIG has requested of me.
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For Gourmand it’s love/hate because we are literally exes and things get awkward when we’re around each other for too long. You know there’s all that history of the good and bad moments. We truly cared for each other at one point, but once I broke things off with him because I was in love with Violet, it became pretty tense.
And the whole love triangle thing going on between me and him and Violet, ugh, don’t get me started on that! That’s a whole other post! But needless to say it confuses my opinions on Gourmand even more.
In general, he’s usually annoyed and aggravated with me, rightly so I guess considering the circumstances. And I get annoyed with him over all his snide remarks about my attitude, failures, and physical appearance and strength. But I still consider him a good friend and confidant. He also is one of the best chefs I’ve ever met, and I’ll drop any outrageous amount of cash to eat his delicious meals.
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Donita is like a mother figure to me, please don’t tell her that, she’ll never let me live it down. I enjoy working alongside her to defeat those Wild Rats with my expert inventions and her impeccable fashion sense. She’s really helped me come out of my shell and discover my own love for fashion and modeling (again don’t tell her, she’ll destroy me!). And she’s a very comforting person for me. When I feel afraid I feel like she can protect me like my own mother would. She is intimidating though…I do not want to get on her bad side, so I do try to impress and woo her with gifts and my many talented inventions.
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As for Paisley, that no good creature and nature loving loser abandoned us. She and I finally team up one on one, we have a fantastic idea to make a ton of money, and she just throws it all away on nature! How dare she? How could she do this to me? Not only were we business partners and fellow villains, but she is my own cousin! That’s right, my cousin! We were villainous partners in crime from the cradle, and she and I were ready to go public with our familial relationship, but then she sides with those stinky Wild Rats! I have no use for her anymore, well…except at Thanksgiving, Violet told me we still have to invite her over. But I won’t like one second of it!
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I don’t have too much to say about Dabio. While I’ve worked with Donita a lot, he’s just kind of been in the background helping us. He is not the brightest guy around, but he’s fiercely loyal and strong, and I respect that. Violet and him have a really good relationship though, they are like brother and sister when they are around each other, it’s kind of weird. He sometimes carries her around like he does for Donita at times, and I DO NOT like that! I should be the only one carrying her or the Zachbots…oh wait, what’s that Vi?!? Gourmand also carries you around, that son of a bi-!
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Rex is still part of our villainous crew, and like Dabio, I don’t have strong opinions on him. He is very loyal to the villainous art, he is a skilled and dedicated worker…. he just has that little villainous spark that could grow into something great. To be honest that kinda does scare me….like all the ingredients are there, he could become a reputable villain in direct ranks with Donita, Gourmand, and myself. He could even surpass me and my villainous abilities! But no, no, no, that couldn’t happen, right? *whispering* I’m watching you Rex….
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aintitfierce · 11 months
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last post for tonight before i go pass out but i like that i originally leaned toward making vanya’s Reprisals when people got on his bad side more akin to curses and magical in nature but nowadays that’s shifted almost entirely instead to him doing the equivalent of a cat swatting anything and everything that Annoys him
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midnightwriter21 · 1 year
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demon slayer hcs: the hashira men as boyfriends
characters: tengen, sanemi, giyuu, rengoku, muichiro, obanai
AN: i don’t write for gyomei srry
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TENGEN
- this isn’t just a little fling
-mans doesn’t wanna be ur bf
-he wants to be your HUSBAND
- and he’s gonna make that happen ASAP
- and when y’all get married you’re not just getting a husband
- ur getting 3 wives too
- it’s a package deal
- overprotective!!
- the way he made his wives promise to prioritize their lives over the mission
- my heart was bursting
- carries u around
- when tengen is around ur feet hardly ever touch the floor
- doesn’t matter how big or tall u are
- he’s bigger and taller
-he's big all over if ykyk
-nicknames include: sweetheart, princess, baby
- and don’t think he’s saying those to be cute
- he’s absolutely mocking you
-which brings me to…
- this man teases the HELL out of you
- but with love
- he loves you just as much as he loves his wives
- in his mind ur alrdy married
- and he is NOT letting you go
- or letting any harm come to you as long as he can help it
- 4 lifer fr
- id marry him
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SANEMI
-i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again
-he’d tear it UP
-and i’d let him
- loves you so much
- doesn’t show it in public
- but in private?
- clingy as fUck
- he’s like ur shadow fr
- will follow u around all day
- hands on ur waist
- arm around ur shoulder
- holding ur hand
- he will not let go of u when ur alone
- in public he’s a lot less touchy
- but he will still stand near you
- jealous af
- every slayer knows by now to stay tf away from you or face the wrath of the wind pillar
- you belong to him
- makes sure they know it
- makes sure you know it
-hickey MASTER
-no i will not elaborate
- everybody knows sanemi is a little rough around the edges
- so there are days when it’s hard for him to open up to you
- but he does try
- he’s got a reputation to keep up!
-gotta act tough
-no weaknesses!!
- except for u
-he’s so soft for u he can’t help it
- nicknames: dumbass, idiot, & feather (my personal favorite)
-like i said he is almost always physically connected to u in some way when ur alone
-ignore him? he's throwing u over his shoulder
-he's strong he can manhandle u all over the place
-sheeeeeshhhhh manhandle me however u want sir
-claims ur super light no matter ur size
-hence the nickname "feather"
-i love him
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GIYUU
-ik damn well this man had EVERONE in a chokehold from the first second he showed up
-speaking of chokeholds... ;)
-put me in one pls sir
-anyways
-awkward as fuck
-but he tries for u
-terrible with physical affection
-but we all know he's SOOO touch starved
-you'll have to initiate any type of physical touch
-and make sure he's not uncomfortable
-but really there's nothing he wants more than to touch you
-takes a very long time to say "i love you"
-but can u blame him??
-every good thing the poor man has ever had has been ripped away from him :(
-because of this he's veryyyy protective
-cause he'll be damned if the last person he has that accepts him and loves him for all he is
-is hurt or killed
-100% will die for u without a second thought
-not really a nickname type of guy
-remember he's awkward as hell
-most you'll get is a "-chan" attached to ur name
-and even that is only when y'all are alone
-but still
-even if he doesn't always show it
-you are always on his mind
-he's on a mission and walking through a market?
-he's buying you a hairpin or som
-walking through a forest and sees some flowers?
-"i wonder if she'll like these"
-AND HE'S PICKING U A BOUQUET
-ugh soft for bf giyuu
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RENGOKU
-sunshine boy!!!
- epitome of golden retriever boyfriend
-all smiles all the time
-follows u around like lost puppy
-shows off for u
-yk when ur around kids and they're like "watch this" and then they jump and spin a circle lmao
-thats him
-"did you see what i just did?!"
-if u didnt...
-he's doing it again
-wants to impress you so bad
-also you will never have to lift a finger in his presence
-service bf!!
-you need the dishes washed and the floor swept?
-he's on it
-you need help styling ur hair?
-welcome to rengoku's hair salon
-will attempt to dress you in the morning
-and by dress you, i mean he's tugging ur shirt over ur head
-zipping up ur pants
-and tying ur shoes
-brags about you to anyone and everyone
-the other hashira can't have a single conversation with him without him bringing you up somehow
-compliments compliments compliments!!!
-he loves you and isn't afraid to show it
-nicknames from him: my love, my beautiful girl, sweetheart
-constantly confessing his love
-also lowkey speaks poetry for u
-some shit like
-"my light in the darkness, the one who gives me strength, you set my heart ablaze just by allowing me the privilege of seeing your smile"
-ugh he's the sweetest baby
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MUICHIRO
-my airheaded angel baby
-i love him sm stop
-baby boy has a terrible memory
-that we alrdy knew
-but!
-he tries so hard for you
-keeps a little journal with notes and information about you
-so if he forgets he can remind himself over and over
-when he's on missions away from you he reads it so he can think about you to pass the time
-can not and will not remember anniversaries
-unless they're written in that journal
-will pick u flowers
-hope ur not allergic cause he's not gonna remember that
-but it's the thought that counts
-the fact that he's thinking about you at all counts
-you wanna go on a date?
-your dates consist of watching the clouds and taking naps together
-maybe a picnic if ur lucky
-no nicknames from him
-he calls you by your name
-its all he can remember
-he's the cutest
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OBANAI
-like sanemi, he's a lot less affectionate in public
-however, he's not afraid to express his thoughts about you
-at least not to the other hashira
-might not be glued to your side
-but he's got eyes on u at all times
-and someone is talking about you?
-the second he hears ur name leave somebodies mouth
-he's tuned in
-and they better not say anything negative either
-mans turns murderous
-they will wake up to a snake in their bed
-will prob threaten them within an inch of their life
-don't have to worry abt other people while he's around
-cause he's got everything
-and i mean EVERYTHING taken care of
-protective but not pushy
-i feel like obanai trusts you and your ability to handle yourself
-but thats not gonna stop him from watching over you
-you're not drinking enough water?
-here comes obanai with a cup and u better drink it all
-haven't had lunch yet?
-he's sharing his with you. and will force feed u if need be.
-on a mission with him?
-he's not gonna push u behind him or anything
-but nothing is gonna get the chance to bring any harm to you either
-he's got ur back
-he's pretty vanilla with the nicknames
-nothing too crazy
-especially in public
-mostly uses ur first name
-might add a "-chan" in there every once in a while
-when ur alone he'll call you "sweetie"
-acts like a hard ass
-but he's soft for u
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exuvianen · 1 month
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dating hc's with dr. ratio, aventurine + blade!
headcanons about what these hsr men do in a relationship witth you <3
cw: x reader, gn! reader (no physical descriptions), mostly fluff, sfw, headcanon style
notes: hsr brainrot… ahahaha... i hope i have a fairly good grasp on these characters and wrote them well. 
wc: ~1050 words, around 350 words per character. all under the cut!
feel free to drop an ask or to add on to my thoughts! likes + rbs are appreciated  <3
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✎ Dr. Ratio:
He likes parallel play, or being alone together with you. He works on his own projects, like grading papers or writing a new thesis while you’re doing your own thing, like playing video games or reading. Occasionally, he might ask you for your input, such as ideas about his next thesis or what pose he should sculpt himself into next. 
He has a spare desk and chair for you in his office. You can choose to do work or entertain yourself there when you visit him and he’s still teaching a lecture, but feel free to take a nap on the plush sofa he bought just for you. 
He will nag you about your health but in an annoyingly endearing way. He fusses over you, telling you about appropriate attire for today’s weather, offering you an umbrella, and reminding you to drink water. 
He entertains all your ideas, no matter how silly or illogical. He’ll hear you out on anything you say, though he might have some very strong disagreements or objections to your ideas, especially if they are silly or completely nonsensical. However, he never turns you away when you bound up to him with a mischievous gleam in your eyes - he just sighs and prepares himself mentally to hear whatever goofiness comes out of your mouth. 
He’s your biggest cheerleader, supporter, and advocate. Though he may come off as intimidating, he is always willing to help advance your career or work. He has many connections and vast knowledge of the universe after all - why not utilize them for his beloved? 
He’s very good at dispelling any irrational thoughts in your head. If you’re panicking and your mind is disoriented, he’ll sit next to you and hold your hand gently, but firmly to ground you. He doesn’t speak at all when you vent out all your frustration, confusion, or anger - rather, he’s silently contemplative and then asks questions when you finish talking. He’ll indirectly guide you to a solution while gently calming you down as he dispels those pesky thoughts from your head.
He makes a custom alabaster head for you. 
♤ Aventurine:
A big fan of matching accessories and clothing. You don’t need to wear the exact same outfit, but he likes wearing complementary colors and jewelry to yours.
If you’d like, he’d be more than happy to bring you to casinos and public events with him. He wants to show off to you and let you witness his wit, talent, and skill like a peacock presenting its colorful feathers. 
He likes it a lot when you trace his skin through the spade-shaped hole in his outfit.
He hates the feeling of being vulnerable, but he likes being around you. This creates conflicting emotions inside of him. Oftentimes, he doesn’t know how to deal with it and just lurks by you. Pull him into a hug to quiet the voices in his head. 
He will send you packages or luxury items from the planets he’s visiting. You’ll be greeting a disgruntled Topaz or IPC soldiers at your door as they hand you various gifts ranging from limited-edition jewelry to flowers that bloom only once every 200 amber eras. He gifts extremely grand things, but he always knows how to find things that suit your tastes.
He’s a big spender on you. If you’re unused to the amount of money he’s willing to throw at you, he’s going to give you a lot of “exposure therapy” with his generosity. He’ll invite you to private auctions, lavish galas, luxury boutiques, and high-end jewelry stores. He’ll start filling your wardrobe with tailor-made clothes with the excuse that you should match his outfits when you attend formal events together, but his clothing contributions eventually infiltrate your closet pretty deeply. 
He enjoys being pampered and pampering you. Self-care nights are a must - as a representative of the IPC and one of the ten Stonehearts, he has to keep himself presentable and looking sharp, and that goes for his partner too! He’s more than happy to spend money to fund your trips to the salon or buy you any beauty products to use at home. He’d love to put on face masks together and share a drink or two with you. 
☠︎︎ Blade:
If you want to, and Elio’s script permits, he will bring you along on missions to safer planets. He’ll drop you off at a commercial district - feel free to go shopping or try out some novelty food while he wraps up his Stellaron Hunter business.
He likes getting his hair brushed. One of his favorite activities is sitting down and letting you comb through his hair after he cleans up from a mission. It’s an activity that leaves him vulnerable, but he doesn’t mind if it’s with you.
He’s an acts of service kind of guy. He moves to take your bags before you even say anything, holds open doors, and pulls out chairs for you. Brings you a cup of water and some fruit when you’ve been working for too long, and silently drapes his jacket over you when you shiver.
Tell him you like a certain pastry and he’ll show up every day and bring some. Show him a picture of a pretty flower and he’s boarding a spaceship to bring the flower to you personally. If you want something, he’ll do his best to get it.
He’s pretty quiet, but he’ll remember everything you say, what your preferences are, and what you like. He secretly writes it down in case his memory gets murky, and he’ll often reread his notes to remind himself.
He gives simple but traditional gifts to you, such as jade bracelets and pendants, and combs and hairpins if you have longer hair to wear or use them.*
He’ll treasure anything you gift to him. If you make an accessory for him, he wears it at all times. If your gift is small enough, he’ll stow it safely in his pockets and take it everywhere with him.
If family is important to you, he’ll send funds their way and ensure that they’re taken care of. 
As someone who’s often dead and then undead, his body can get stiff. He’ll enjoy it immensely if you massage him, and accompany him for his daily stretches and calisthenics. Even if you just hold him for a while, he finds that his muscles will relax from the warmth emitting from your body. Therefore, he quite appreciates having you physically near him.
* Combs, hairpins, Jade bracelets, and pendants were given as tokens of love and affection in Ancient China. These gifts have a deeper meaning/symbolism, but for the sake of post length, I did not write them all out. 
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skyahri · 2 months
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How They'd Do You |Naruto Men X Reader| HC
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Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake, Shikamaru Nara, Madara Uchiha, and Naruto Uzumaki.
Summary: How they are in bed.
Warnings: NSFW. Mentions of sex and foreplay. Breeding kink, breast and nipple play, head, etc.
- - - - -
Sasuke Uchiha
Sasuke isn't one to give up control very easily, especially when he's in any sort of vulnerable state.
More often than not, he's on top of you, forcing your legs against your chest and not holding anything back as he thrusts into you.
On the rare occasion he allows you to top, he's still 100% in control. He always ends up taking over towards the end when he can't take it anymore. His release is close, and something in his brain is begging him to rail you.
He wouldn't be into actual choking in fear he'd lose control of his strength, but he's not afraid to use your neck as a handle of sorts to keep your body from moving too much.
Hes the embodiment of a breeding kink.
He's close to his end. He places his hand on your stomach and forces his seed in you.
If he's still got stamina, he's pushing you onto your hands and knees for round two, ass high up in the air.
"Not a single drop spills. Got it?"
Emergency contraceptive is your best friend, but let's be real. It fails sooner rather than later based on the sheer amount you rely on it.
Kakashi Hatake
Foreplay king. He loves head, both giving and receiving, sometimes even at the same time. Nipple play, fingering, whatever it is you're needing, he's providing.
Passionate.
When he does share his mind, it's never a light matter, and sex is no different.
Kissing, hand holding, praising - it's all a very important part of the act for him. He's pouring his heart and soul into you every time you're together.
But don't get it wrong, he's still a man. Those sweet nothings and soft whispers about how much he loves you quickly turn into dirty talk.
"You're such a good girl."
"You look so pretty wrapped around my cock."
"You're mine, you know that?"
He definitely sticks his fingers in your mouth.
After a certain point, he let's his dick do the thinking for him. You don't mind one bit.
He's all about aftercare. Rags or showers or just physical contact, whatever you want, he's got it. He knows he's not always the best at taking care of you, but this is one instance where he's confident about what he's doing.
Shikamaru Nara
My man is lazy and that doesn't change, even in the bedroom.
He usually doesn't go down on you but enjoys when you sit on his face. He'll wrap his arms around to grip your thighs. He's never one to turn down head but doesn't really make foreplay a priority.
Some might call him a pillow princess at first glance, but it's deeper than that. He has the control, he just let's you do the work most of the time.
You may be on top, but his strong grip and guiding fingers tell you exactly what to do.
Sometimes, he doesn't care for the pleasantries that come with dragging it out. He'll nestle between your legs and let his head dip down to your neck.
Lazy thrusts, but that's fine. Deeper is always better than faster.
He doesn't really do dirty talk, but he's definitely not silent. He's vocal, always groaning, maybe he'll tell you that he loves you if he's feeling a certain way.
Madara Uchiha
Most of the time, he's hate fucking you.
There's no time for foreplay when he's immediately slamming you against the wall when he gets home.
Despite all the anger radiating off of him as he mercilessly thrusts into you, he's calling you the sweetest nicknames he can think of. Love or Darling or something of the sort.
He always finishes inside. You're not sure if he's just too busy letting his frustration out to think, or if he's actively trying to get you pregnant.
It's both... sort of. For him, anger is just passion and fuel. It has nothing to do with his actions. He's pumping you full of his cum because he likes to claim you. He wants you to bare his children. He wants people to know you're his.
Aftercare isn't as straightforward for him. He's not offering to clean you up, but he tries to find ways to subtly apologize for turning you into a toy.
Naruto Uzumaki
Naruto runs on pure instinct in every aspect of his life.
He's doing what feels right in the moment and confirming it with you if it's something he's unsure about. (Consent is key).
He's a people pleaser. He's always making sure he takes care of you before he even thinks about himself. Eating you out, fingering, breast play, whatever you want.
He's sloppy. It's just something that always emerges with him. He's placing wet kisses on your neck, his hand placement can sometimes be a bit awkward, but it all adds to the experience.
His head gets so foggy with love and lust that he honestly can't think straight. The way his body takes control and he ravages you in an almost primal way, it's to die for.
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queenimmadolla · 1 year
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𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐝
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Summary: . . . you're drunk off your ass and your boyfriend, Eddie Munson, has to chase you down. that's it.
𝐚/𝐧: 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐢 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐥, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.
“Eddddiiiiee,” you whined, trying to break out of the iron hold around your waist but no matter how much you pulled on your boyfriend’s arms, he wouldn’t release you.
  “Baaaaaby!” He mocked, arms tightening around you as he pulled your back to his chest, eyes searching through the crowd to see if Harrington had gathered the rest of your rag tag group of friends.
  The lot of you had been invited to a rager thrown by one of Argyle’s friends. You’d also neglected to mention to Eddie that you’d magically forgotten to eat more than a party sized bag of chips the entire day, so with three shots and a couple of strong mixed drinks in you, you were drunk. Very, sloppily, adorably drunk.
  Eddie followed you around when you became impatient with him, huffing and puffing anytime you saw him because you knew he’d prevent you from getting more drunk—sure enough, he’d swoop in and take away any bottle, cup or drink you’d get your hands on.
  He had made one crucial mistake though, having decided you were done for the night and with Robin throwing up a bright blue liquid—it was time to go. Eddie had had a twelve second conversation with Steve in which he would go and find Jonathan and Nancy, taking Robin with him.
  When Eddie turned back to you, you were hastily shoving something in your mouth, something small enough to be concealed between your fingers.
  “No, no, no!” He rushed over, taking your face in a hand and gently squeezing your cheeks to try to get you to open your mouth but it was too late, whatever pill it was, you had already swallowed, “Baby, what did you just put in your mouth?”
  You giggled, pleased to be causing him a little trouble and made kissy faces at him instead of answering. 
  He sighed, wrapping his arms around you while he glared at everyone else.
  Speed. Where the fuck did you even get it???
  And that’s how you found yourself imprisoned in his arms, patience once more dwindling due to the cotton candy haze of your mind and the energy filling your body. 
  Eddie could feel your jitters and chanced a glance down at your shoes to confirm they hadn’t magically transformed into a pair of sneakers you could run off in. He’d made it a rule you couldn’t wear a pair if you’d be drinking (yeah, this wasn’t the first time you’d try to flee from him, drunk off your ass, and no, you didn’t do it all the time), and he was relieved the pair of short heels were still in place.
  “Please, can you let me go?” You craned your neck back to pout up at him, eyes big as you peered at him from under your lashes.
  You were too fucking cute for your own good.
  The answer to your question was still no, he’d never let you go but you wouldn’t like that answer right now, so instead he said, “As soon as we’re home, sweet thing.”
  That was not the answer you wanted to hear, either, and you scowled, slouching back into him as you glared at nothing.
  Eddie was pleased when Steve, Nancy and Jonathan (carrying a passed out Robin over his shoulder) appeared in the crowd, making their way towards the pair of you.
  When they got close, Nancy tripped and Eddie dove forward to catch her before she could meet the ground.
  “Whoa, Wheeler!” He laughed as he helped her rise and steady, “Forgot how uncoordinated you are with some liquor in you.”
  “The sad thing is I’m not even that drunk,” She admitted, grateful she hadn’t been subjected to the stickiness of the floor.
  “Thanks Eddie,” Jonathan shifted Robin a little over his shoulder, trying not to touch her too much since she was prone to having physical reactions and he didn’t want to be punched in the face, “Can we leave now?”
  “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”
  Eddie turned back to you, ready to throw you over his shoulder if he needed to and his mouth dropped open, eyes widening when the spot you’d occupied, literally not even 10 inches away, was empty.
  Well, not completely. 
  The group looked down at the floor to see your heels left behind.
  Eddie’s head darted towards the front door just in time to see you escape out of it.
  “Oh, shit, not again!”
  Eddie swooped up your heels and ran after you, bashing into bodies on the way before he finally made it out of the doorway to see you sprinting across the lawn, your laughter ringing in the night air and he quickly gave chase.
  “BABY! BABY, STOP!”
  You didn’t stop, having the time of your life as the need to flee from him became more urgent. It wasn’t anything personal, it was just nice to feel like the main character having a little silly, goofy moment and you wouldn’t feel silly and goofy when your boyfriend would be having you drink a ton of water to flush the fun from your system!
  “No, I’m fast! Gotta go!” You called over your shoulder, still laughing as you met the asphalt of the street, lungs and legs doing a surprisingly good job at keeping you going and ahead of him.
  Eddie kept going too, though he felt the burn of it, chest already heaving but he feared where your drunk ass could possibly end up if he gave up and stopped.
  “BABY, I AM BEGGING YOU, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST, STOP RUNNING!”
  He chased you down several streets, through lawns— apparently you were suddenly good at parkour, jumping over children’s toys and playsets he crashed into—and just when he was finally beginning to think you’d never stop, you started to slow.
  Not because you wanted to stop the game or anything, you’d just spent your time running away from your boyfriend thinking about how cute he was. And so sweet and good to you. You longed for him. He always took care of you—drunk or not—gave you tons of smooches, held you whenever you were near, went in search of you when you weren’t, peppered your face in kisses like Pepe Le Pew did to that cat he was always chasing around in the Looney Tunes cartoons and professing his love for you in a shitty French accent, and he always cuddled with you, giving you head scratchies while the two of you lay in bed.
  WAIT.
  You’d get cuddles, kisses and head scratchies tonight!!!!!
  You’d slowed in your thought process, and suddenly you’d gone from eager to get away from Eddie for no real reason, to desperate to be in his arms so you turned around and ran towards him.
  Eddie hadn’t been expecting that, the two of you collided, but he wrapped his arms around you to keep you from toppling over.
  See??? You knew he’d hold you.
  “Gandalf the freaking Grey, baby, you are trouble and too damn fast,” he heaved out, arms tightening as he smashed you to his chest for a tight hug, the hand not clutching your heel straps cradling the back of your head. Eddie was relieved to have you safe in his arms again.
  “I’m fast as fuck, I’m a track star,” you chirped, nuzzling happily into the crook of his neck and making it hard for him to be even a little upset with you.
  “No you’re not and no more running,” You made a sound of surprise as he quite literally swept you off your feet and carried you back to the house party you fled from, bridal style.
  You didn’t fight him, keen on pressing kisses to his neck, pretty face and just about anywhere your lips could reach.
  Halfway there, you ran into Steve and Jonathan practically limping. Both were heaving and covered in sweat, the front of their shirts stained dark with it.
  “Oh, thank god! No more running. My side hurts, I think I popped something.” Steve said between gaps of panting.
  Jonathan couldn’t even speak, the poor guy looked like he was ready to collapse.
  “Where are the girls?”
  “On. Front. Lawn.” Jonathan finally wheezed out, they’d left Robin snoozing in Nancy’s lap on the lawn while they ran to help (but not really) Eddie catch you.
  When you were finally home, squeaky clean after a shared shower with Eddie—you still seemed to have enough energy for one due to your high, though the alcohol was making you a little sleepy—and you were in bed, curled into him with your head nuzzling into the crook of his neck as his fingers massaged your scalp and nearly put you in a coma, he mumbled, “You little shit.”
  You giggled, eyes still shut as his chest shook beneath you with his own chuckles.
  “You still love me?”
  “Always,” Then, after a brief and comfortable silence, “Baby, you should’ve been on the track team.”
  “Mmm, I don’t really like running.”
  And again, “You little shit!”
7K notes · View notes
joelsgreys · 4 months
Text
softness
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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summary: Joel’s a little unsure of doing skin to skin with his newborn daughter.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. established relationship. (TW) PREGNANCY. mentions of premature birth, minor descriptions of childbirth, mentions of birth weight, it is implied that reader is breastfeeding her baby, semi accurate medical journal research, girldad! Joel, mentions of scars (Joel), mentions of insecurities and anxieties, if i missed anything, please let me know! NO MENTION OF READER’S AGE. NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER. no physical description of child except for her hair color/type. very minimal editing.
word count: 3.5k
a/n: i had this outline sitting in my drafts and i decided to finally just write it out and post it. it ain’t much, but it’s honest work. it is part of the safe and sound universe.
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She’d made her entrance into the world early.
About four or five weeks, the commune’s doctor thinks.
Without ultrasounds, it’d been a guessing game.
And a fucking terrifying guessing game at that.
For several months, all you could do was hope.
Hope for a smooth pregnancy.
Hope for a safe labor and delivery.
Hope for a strong, healthy baby.
When you went into labor earlier than the doctor had predicted you would, all of your hopes shattered, the pieces falling around you like shards of broken glass you couldn’t put back together even if you tried.
“No! No, it’s too soon! It’s too fucking soon!” you’d cried out, the sheer panic setting in and seeping into your bones as a warm, clear liquid dripped down the insides of your legs and pooled around your bare feet. You had been in the kitchen making Ellie breakfast and packing her lunch for school—one second you’re standing there in front of the food pantry debating with yourself on what vegetable to throw into the kid’s lunch bag with her sandwich and the next you’re calling out for help as an intense pressure nestled itself between your hips. It wasn’t until you heard a faint popping sound and then felt the gush of fluid between your thighs that you’d realized what was happening. An unmistakable first sign of labor, you’d experienced your water breaking. “This can’t be happening, it’s not time yet!”
Joel, who by some stroke of sheer stupid luck had the morning off from patrol duty, instructed Ellie to run upstairs and gather some clean clothes along with a pair of boots and the warmest coat you owned that still fit. November had brought along the first snowfall of the season—the frigid temperatures outside were anything but kind and the clinic was on the opposite side of the commune, a fifteen minute walk he wished you didn’t have to make in your condition. “I know this is real fuckin’ scary darlin’ but y’need to stay calm. I need you to stay as calm as possible. Y’think that you can do that for me, sweetheart?”
He’d been just as terrified, but he masked it well.
On the outside, he kept a calm, collected composure for your sake and for Ellie’s too, shoved aside his own fears so he could be the support you both needed, act as the glue that held yours and his little family unit together should anything were to happen. But on the inside, he was scared shitless, to say the least. He couldn’t be certain he would have the strength to hold himself together if something went wrong, if he lost you—or his unborn child.
Admittedly, it had taken him a few months to come to terms with the fact that he was going to be a father again at this stage in his life. The thought of him changing diapers at his age was one he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around—but the moment he felt that first little flutter of movement one night as you lay curled up against his side fast asleep, something shifted. That night, he had stayed wide awake, his large hand splayed over your belly in hopes he would feel that little flutter again.
“Joel, I’m really fucking scared. What if it’s too early—”
“Baby, look at me.” He reached up and gently took your chin, holding it between his thumb and index finger as he coaxed your gaze to meet his own. “S’gonna be okay,” he’d assured you, softly. “If this is happenin’ now, it’s because she’s ready, alright?”
For a split second, that panic had ceased.
“She?”
Confused, Joel’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”
“You just referred to the baby as a she, Joel.”
“I did?”
“Yeah—just now.” You’d stared at him with curiosity and took a step back, cradling your belly in both of your hands. “Do you think we’re having a girl?”
Sheepishly, he had shaken his head at you.
“No, I just—m’sorry. I ain’t all too sure why I said that.”
He truly, honestly hadn’t.
It’d slipped before he could even think about it.
But his accidental slip had been right.
After thirteen hours of grueling labor in Jackson’s small clinic, you’d given birth to a little girl, the sound of her loud wailing filling the whole room like a sweet melody eliciting a sob of joy from you and a shaky sigh of relief from Joel.
“Holy shit, she’s here! She’s actually fucking here,” Ellie breathed, her eyes going wide. Her arms were still wrapped around one of your legs—despite you warning the teenager about what she would see, it hadn’t stopped her from volunteering her assistance in the childbirth process. She watched on in a mix of both fascination and disgust as Dr. Porter, a woman in her sixties who served as Jackson’s sole physician, lifted the infant and immediately placed her onto your bare chest to clean her off. “This has gotta be the grossest, most amazing fucking thing I have ever fucking seen in my life.” Gently, she set your leg down onto the bed before walking around it to stand beside Joel. His hand was stroking your hair, his dark eyes trained on his crying newborn daughter. It was the perfect moment for Ellie to run her mouth and tease, “You’re not gonna cry, are you, Joel? I’d think you’re a lot fucking tougher than that, old man.”
“Shut up,” he’d muttered under his breath, putting an arm around her and pulling her against his side. He almost couldn’t believe this was now his life—a life he would have never even known if he hadn’t flinched twenty years ago when he had pulled the trigger.
Though she’d been born a few weeks prematurely, Rosemary Miller was deemed to be healthy—a tad underweight, but nothing to be worried about just yet, according to Jackie, the commune’s nurse. At about four pounds, eleven ounces, Rosemary was the tiniest thing you’d ever seen and somehow even tinier when Joel would cradle her in the palms of his large hands. Despite the fact that you’d been reassured that the baby’s low birth weight was nothing to be alarmed about, you and Joel had been advised it was best if you didn’t take her home until she gained a few more ounces and tipped the a scale at what the books state is a normal birth weight of five pounds, eight ounces.
“We just would feel better if she were here at the clinic where we can closely monitor her weight,” Jackie had said upon seeing the crestfallen look on your face. “Besides, you tore a little and you need time to heal as well, you know.”
Left with very little choice, you’d agreed to it.
“I’m losing it,” you say with an exasperated sigh as you stare up at the drab, gray ceiling. It’s been three days since you had given birth and all you want to do is take your daughter home. In an effort to lift your spirits, Maria had tried to warm the place up and make it feel more comfortable for you. She had swapped out the rough, scratchy bedsheet the clinic provided for you with a soft, knitted blanket she had made herself. She also took it upon herself to pack you a bag with your own clothes, a couple of books to read, and your favorite polaroids of Joel and Ellie. While it had been incredibly sweet of her to do for you, you still wanted out of that clinic sooner rather than later. “I miss our house. I miss our bed. I miss our kid.”
Joel, who’s sitting in an old, worn leather armchair tucked over in a corner of your room next to the frosted window, raises an eyebrow at you and then juts his chin towards Rosemary, who is swaddled up and sleeping soundly in the plastic bassinet beside your bed.
“Our kid’s right there, darlin’.”
You lift your head off your pillow and glare at him.
“I’m talking about Ellie, Joel.”
He chuckles and leans forward in his chair. Next to him sits a brown stuffed bunny rabbit—Ellie had traded a precious comic book for it and gifted it to the baby the same afternoon she was born. 
“She’s been comin’ to visit every day after school.”
“It’s not the same,” you pout, shaking your head.
Joel sighs and glances at the cot that he had been sleeping on for the last few days—truth be told, he misses the house too. His back certainly misses the bed. “It ain’t the same,” he agrees, tiredly. His face is worn with exhaustion. Despite you insisting that he go home and get some proper rest, he’s too stubborn to listen and only leaves the clinic to take a shower and change his clothes—and to check on Ellie, who’s got a bad habit of not doing her homework unless you or Joel nag her to get it done. “M’real sorry, darlin’. But you heard what they said. Baby’s gotta gain a little more weight before we can take her home.”
Even from where he’s sitting, he can see your eyes glaze over with tears of frustration. Since the baby was born, you’ve been very sensitive, more so than when you’d been pregnant—something he didn’t think was even possible.
“If she keeps on eatin’ the way she’s eatin’ we’ll be home by the end of the week,” Joel adds in an effort to cheer you up. “Besides, you need to heal before we make that long walk across town and back to the house, sweetheart. S’not like I can just pull up the fuckin’ minivan and drive you girls home like back in the day, y’know?”
You wrinkle your nose at him. “Ew, Joel. We would not have a fucking minivan.” Dabbing at your eyes with the back of your hand, you can’t help but laugh at the thought of Joel Miller behind the wheel of one of those things. Then, you realize how endearing it would be to watch as he’s loading up Rosemary’s car seat into the van, the muscles of his broad back flexing underneath his shirt as he pulled on the straps to make sure it was safe and secure. You’d climb into the backseat with her and on the way home, you would ask Joel to swing through the nearest burger joint drive through because you’re fucking starving and in need of a proper meal after being subjected to boring, bland hospital food. You shoot him a small smile. “On second thought, that doesn’t sound all that bad. Maybe we would.”
Suddenly, there’s a light knock at the door.
“Come in,” you call, careful not to be too loud.
Dr. Porter walks into the room.
She had been a primary care physician prior to the world ending, according to Maria, who a couple of months ago had given birth to her son while under Dr. Porter’s care. Maria had assured you that, even though the woman never trained in obstetrics, she always went above and beyond for all the mothers to be in the commune. She dedicated her spare time to studying, lost herself in medical books she found on the shelves of the town’s library—kind of like the one that’s currently tucked underneath her arm.
“Hi there mama,” she greets, her eyes shining brightly behind her coke-bottle glasses. Wearing jeans and a sweater, she doesn’t quite look the part—maybe she’d worn a white coat once in her life, but now it was only the old, silver metal stethoscope she had draped around her neck that gave her profession away. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“I’m okay,” you say with a shrug. “Can’t complain.”
Over in his corner, Joel can’t help but snort.
Ignoring him, you add, “Bleeding’s slowing down.”
“Good, that’s good,” Dr. Porter tells you. “And how about this sweet little girl?” She smiles and makes her way over to the bassinet, keeping her voice low. “She eating well?”
“She is. Her last feed was about two hours ago.”
“How’s she sleeping?”
“Like a rock.”
“And you’ve been doing skin to skin as well?”
You nod. “Yes, before and after her feedings.”
“That’s perfect.” Dr. Porter beams at you with pride. “Keep it up and do it as often as possible. There are a ton of benefits of doing skin to skin with her. It’s one of the most incredible things that a mother can do for her baby. Actually—” She pauses for a moment and pulls the book out from under her arm. “I have been doing a bit of research and as it turns out, there are also benefits if dad does skin to skin with baby as well.”
Joel stiffens slightly in his chair. “S’cuse me?”
“I found this book in the library. It talks about all of the benefits of fathers doing skin to skin with their newborn. It was written some time in the nineties and studies were still being conducted, but I really believe they were onto something.” She hands you the book. “For being preterm, Rosemary’s healthy, but it doesn’t do any harm to try whatever you can to make sure that she builds up that immune system and stays healthy, especially now that winter’s here.” Flashing you a smile, she informs you, “I went ahead and folded the pages for you and made some notes. There’s a few benefits in it for Joel as well. Could be worth a try.”
After telling you she’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you and to weigh the baby, Dr. Porter excuses herself from your room, quietly closing the door behind her.
Curiously, you open the book to the first page that she’d folded for you and start reading the first passage out loud.
“Ongoing studies have found skin to skin between father and child have similar benefits to those that come from skin to skin between mother and child. It regulates the baby's body temperature, blood sugar, and stress levels.” You pause and look over at Joel, who appears thoroughly unimpressed. “It also helps to regulate the baby’s heart rate and breathing rate. Joel, this is incredible! I think you should—”
“No.”
Joel winces. He doesn’t mean to sound so curt.
Your face falls. “Why not?”
“That’s for mothers,” he grumbles. “Y’know, for feedin’ the baby.”
“It’s for much more than just that.” You shake your head and flip over to the next page, scanning both the text as well as Dr. Porter’s notes. “It says here that it also helps the baby pick up their father’s natural scent and promotes bonding.”
“Sweetheart, I can bond with her just fine with my fuckin’ shirt on, there ain’t no need for me to—what in the world are you doin’?” Perturbed, Joel watches you as you take a handful of your blanket, throwing it off yourself. He jumps up to his feet the second he realizes that you’re about to get out of bed. “Don’t—”
“Oh relax, Joel. I should be moving more anyway,” you say, wincing as you sit up and swing both legs over the side of the bed. It isn’t so much pain as it is discomfort—everything had been shoved up and out of place for months, after all. As soon as you stand, Joel’s there at your side, one hand on your arm and the other on your back, trying to guide you back onto the bed. You lightly swat him away with your hand. “Joel, stop fussing over me! I’m fine!”
“Baby, y’need to lie down right now—”
“Take off your shirt.”
His hands fall away from you and his eyes widen.
“What?”
“Take off your shirt and go sit down in the chair.”
The blood drains from his face and he pales. 
It’s not that Joel doesn’t want to do it. He does.
He’ll do anything if it’s for his daughter’s benefit.
Still.
The idea of laying his innocent little baby girl on him without his shirt on—it’s uncomfortable. His chest and stomach are littered with several scars. Rough, raised patches of skin that serve as reminders of a brutal past he doesn’t want her finding out about, not for as long as he can fucking help it.
Rosemary deserves to be wrapped up in softness.
The softness of your smooth, blemish free skin.
The softness of the blankets you’d knitted for her.
The softness of the stuffed bunny Ellie had given her.
Joel?
He isn’t soft.
Nothing about him is soft.
Even holding her in his hands for the first time had been something of a battle. Hands that once snapped necks and slit throats didn’t deserve to hold something so pure and innocent.
“This sounds really promising, Joel.” Slowly, you make your way over to the plastic bassinet, ignoring the dull ache between your thighs. With your back to him, you carefully begin to unswaddle the baby. You try not to wake her as you peel off her warm, knitted onesie and matching socks, leaving her in nothing but her teeny, tiny cloth diaper. Gingerly, you pick her up and turn around to face him. “If Dr. Porter thinks we should try it, then it’s for a good reason, don’t you think so?”
Joel swallows harshly.
“What is it?”
“S’just that I—I’ve got scars everywhere, y’know?”
Your expression instantly softens for him. “Joel, you’re her daddy,” you remind him, gently. “She’s not going to care about things like that.” Pausing, it suddenly occurs to you that it’s not just about his scars. It’s about something else, something that runs so much deeper for Joel. He’d done what he had done in order to survive, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t live with the shame—the guilt and the regret. Rosemary begins to fuss awake and you lightly bounce her in your arms as you assure him, “She isn’t going to care about your past or what you’ve done. Her love for you is going to be as unconditional as yours is for her. She’s going to love you no matter what, Joel. I can promise you that.”
His jaw clenches and his lips press into a tight line.
Rosemary starts to cry—she’s cold, no doubt.
The old heater in the clinic hardly runs.
And when it does, it breaks down.
“Joel, please,” you beg over her wails. “Just try it? For me? For her?”
Sighing in defeat, Joel shrugs out of his jacket and he tosses it aside. With trembling fingers, he begins to unbutton his green flannel shirt—his long sleeved thermal henley comes off next and then he takes off the cotton t-shirt he wears underneath for an added layer of warmth during the winter season. As he stands there shirtless, he shivers and his flesh erupts with goosebumps. “Wait,” he mutters as he watches you take a step forward. He drags the armchair away from the window. He then sits down, his heart racing and the anxiety flaring as he gives you a subtle nod of his head. “Okay.”
You walk over to him and place her on his bare chest.
The second he feels Rosie’s soft skin on his, there’s a shift.
It’s similar to the one he felt when he first felt her move in your belly.
He calms and his heart slows—his nerves dissipate. 
And Rosemary stops crying.
She scrunches, curls up on his chest, and yawns.
Grimacing, you lean over and pick up his flannel shirt. “Here,” you say, draping it over them as a makeshift blanket. “How’s that feel?”
“Think she likes it, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, his fingers delicately brushing over her soft tufts of dark brown hair. His touch causes the newborn’s lip to curl and he catches a glimpse of the prominent dimple in her left cheek—the same dimple Sarah had inherited from him, Rosemary had inherited too. There’s a dull ache in his chest, but somehow, he still smiles as she peers up at him with sleepy eyes. “Hi, Rosie Posie. S’me, babygirl. Your daddy.”
Rolling your lip between your teeth, you stifle a giggle.
“What?” he asks, arching an eyebrow at you.
“She’s not the only one who seems to like it.”
Joel chuckles, admitting, “S’pretty relaxin’.” He presses his nose into his daughter’s curls and inhales deeply, relishing in the warm, sweet milky scent of her. After a minute, his smile falters slightly. “Baby?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you really believe it?”
Your brow furrows. “Believe what?”
“That she’s gonna love me no matter what.”
“Of course I do.”
“How can you be so sure ‘bout it?”
Carefully, you perch yourself on the arm of the chair and press a gentle kiss against his right temple, your lips brushing over his scar. “Because I just am, Joel.”
Somehow, he believes it—he believes you.
Joel tilts his head back, puckering his lips.
Grinning, you give him a chaste kiss before standing. “I’m going to see if I can get a nap in before her next feed,” you tell him, padding back over to the bed. “Do you think you’ll be okay with her for a while, just the two of you?”
“I think we’ll be just fine,” he murmurs, gingerly stroking Rosemary’s silky cheek with his finger. “Yeah. We’ll be just fine, won’t we, babygirl?”
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divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎
2K notes · View notes
johnpriceslamb · 4 months
Text
𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐏?
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❛ you ask the Van Der Linde boys if you could sit on their lap. ❜
BEFORE YOU PROCEED! ┊female ! reader . afab ! reader . reader is physically shorter than chars mentioned below . suggestive themes implied . wrds . not edited . not proof-read . Javier ver touchy . google translated Spanish . John is very drunk . 1.4k wrd-count
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𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐍
You want to what?
You tinker your lashes multiple times innocently at his flabbergasted expression, unconsciously tilting your head at his dramatic approach. From your tone alone meant nothing but the most purest intentions, he knew well you mean no harm. But hearing those words made his cheeks burn a tad bit brighter.
“May I please— “No, no, I heard ya the first time- I just..” He abruptly cuts you. He narrows his eyes at you, sizing you up head-to-toe just to see if you were in a playful manner. You weren’t.
He grumbles softly, contemplating. He scratches behind his neck for a bit before a deep sigh escapes his mouth and he leans back on the wooden chair he sat upon.
“C’mere.”
He beckons you to come closer with two fingers lazily waving in the air. Immediately do you obey his simple commands like a lost pup, hands clasped prettily in-front of your chest as you easily plop yourself on his lap. Your back almost hits his chest, akin to a literal brick wall from all of the labour work he’s done. Unconsciously does his large hands come to your hips, positioning them slightly just so you’d be a tad bit more comfortable.
It’s easy to tilt your head upwards to see his face, the prickles of hair sticking out on his chin is the most prominent thing from your view. He feels your stare almost immediately and looks down at your beady eyes. He has to stop himself from grinning at your unawareness.
The cowpoke could only narrow his eyes at the soft giggle you produced from your mouth, a hand resting on your hip, “What?”
You look away with a tiny smile, “Nuthin’.”
He lets out another deep sigh, before pinching your cheek.
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𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍
The bottle of beer in his hand almost slips to the ground after hearing your simple question.
He raises a hand to scratch at the stubble on his jaw, mindful to be aware of the deep claw-marks embedded on his skin. The bottle was placed on the table with a clumsy clatter, back supported by the edge of the table.
“..Watchu say?” He squints his dark eyes at you. He must’ve drunk too much, perhaps he heard you wrong. His tone was always raspy yet so demeaning playful even. You took it as if he didn’t want you to, and you shrink meekly.
You stutter shyly, “I’ll just go ask someone else—
He felt his guts squeeze and churn at the sight of you sitting on someone else’s lap. All sense of proper etiquette is thrown away from jealousy and alcoholic behaviour, his hand is very quick to grabbing yours as he roughly pulls you back. A tiny squeal escapes your lap as you clumsily fall on his chest and onto his hard thighs.
Your hands are clinging onto his opened top to balance yourself, the smirk on his face visible as he sees how shy you suddenly became.
The strong scent of alcohol makes your nose scrunch up. He rests his chin on the crook of your neck, stubble lightly tickling your sensitive skin. After a few minutes of making yourself comfy on his lap and finally staying still, his hand comes to grab his bottle to take another chug.
“John,” You almost whine at the way he unconsciously starts to bounce his knee up and down. A habit he’s not prone to ever since he started drinking. It was almost like he forgot you were sitting on his lap after a few minutes. Immediately does he stop his movement, a low slurr of babbles and a soft hiccup escapes his lips, “Whoops— sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart.”
Suddenly, he cheekily stares down at you.
“Y’know,” He hics.
“Yer behind feels kinda good on my-
“John.”
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇
He’s a bit clueless at first, bless his heart.
He’s busy carving a small piece of wood with his knife, hunched over as his long hair falls, covering the sides of his face almost elegantly. He wasn’t bothered to tie his hair back, nor raise a finger to place it behind his ear. He stops re-shaping the small piece of wood as he hears a soft patter of footsteps from in-front.
“Hm?” He hums, his guard lowers significantly once realising it was you. The knife is lowered too, and the items were placed afar so it does not distract you nor come in your way.
“May I please sit on your lap?” You ask with those big beady eyes of yours, hands behind your back as your tone is light and sweet.
Of course, silence is ensured for a few seconds. His brooding figure straightens up from his spot. He quirks a dark, angular brow at your much smaller figure.
“Why?” He asks with a straight face.
Your cheeks burn, and your expression was alike of a kicked pup. He catches on quickly, and he immediately feels bad for seeming so nonchalant and blunt.
“U-Um.. I just, I wanted to.. N-nevermind. Sorry.” You shyly stammer, akin to a doe whom tries to stand up for the first time.
He easily suppresses the smile which almost etched onto his face at your stuttering. Cute.
“I didn’t say no, y’know.” He gestures you to come over with a simple pat on his thigh. You beam, eagerly toddling to him like a tiny tot wanting to get her stuffies. You sit yourself on his thighs, shoes quite literally lifting off of the ground because of how big he was. Even if he sat down, he still always towered over you.
He allows you to wiggle a bit on his lap, but a hand comes down to rest on your knee to squeeze it a bit as a gentle warning to not go any higher. You do obey, of course. Your back is to his chest, your hands positioned on your lap as you almost melt at how warm he was.
“Comfortable?” At each word he uttered to you, it was more toned down in pitch, a low hum always started. You nod lazily, a smile of satisfaction of how comfy he felt underneath. You don’t mind the way he snakes his arms around your waist. “Good.”
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𝐉𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐔𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀
You regret asking.
Simply put, he’s handsy.
The smirk on his face is very visible. The log he rests upon feels even more smaller as he slowly starts to manspread right in front of you. The guitar in his hand is placed gently just to the side before he beckons you to come forth. You reluctantly sit on his lap, almost squirming at how close he was.
A hand on your hip, another squish to your thigh, a soft roll from his hip teasingly upwards, a touch here, a touch there..
“Javier!” You whine, swatting his hand off your curves. He could only teasingly grin, before shrugging. “..Tu pediste esto.” His voice serenades.
You try to swat his hands off again, but merely give up, knowing he won’t stop any time soon. You lay your cheek on his chest, lithe arms wrapped around his waist as your back arches a tad bit from not supporting your structure. His hands are on the small of your back, rubbing small circles on the softness of your clothed skin.
The embers from the mini camp-fire is light and descends off in the dark night, crackles of the wood calms your nerves down just a bit. He does tone his touch down just a tad bit for your sake, despite wanting to desperately grab at.. literally anything. He’s had ladies before, but by far was he the neediest when it came to you.
You can’t help but take a small peak from above, wispy lashes coming to tinker a bit when he tilts his gaze to fixate on you. A small smile on his face, as he greedily eats up all of the touch you gave to him.
“..hi.” You quietly mumble, a bit muffled because of the fact that half of your face is mushed against the fabrics of his clothes. A fox-like grin etches on his tan face as he presses a tiny kiss on your forehead, entertaining you by replying with a simple “hola.”
“You’re really clingy- and touchy. I hope you know that.” You grumble when his hand comes to cup your curves again.
He smiles lazily. “I know.”
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zhongrin · 3 months
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skilled fingers, devious heart
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© zhongrin | 2024  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡
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✼ characters ┈ al haitham
✼ tags ┈ minors dni, fem-bodied reader (reader has a pussy), bratty!reader, manhandling, restraints, orgasm denial/control, edging, brat taming, light degradation, oral, light spanking, overstimulation, hint of c█rr█pt█d!haitham (hence he has his mean moments), aftercare, longfic (3.6k+)
✼ a/n ┈ “let me just draft a quick birthday oneshot for al haitham!” ー meirin, a total clown, circa 2024 /silly ..... anyways, happy birthday to the silliest man in sumeru. i love him dearly and i love that his bday is literally just a day away from my mom and one of my besties. very convenient to remember lol also, happy chinese new year!!! ✨
ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)
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when you asked your boyfriend what he wanted to do for his birthday, you didn't think he would ask for this. then again, al haitham was mostly an unpredictable man, even to you as his lover. he seemed to have a knack for constantly having you on your toes, always anticipating his next actions and reminding you how much of a complex individual he was despite his simple aspirations in life.
such as now, when he requested you to ‘spread your legs and stay still’.
contrary to him, your answer was - at least in his eyes - predictable. a raise of eyebrows, a fox-like grin tugging on your lips, and al haitham could already hear the smug tone of your voice before you could even spoke the words, “make me.”
the fact that you loved to play a dangerous game with a dangerous man always came back to bite you in the ass, but your boyfriend played his part so well, it kept you coming back for more. he knew just the right way to respond to your challenge that made you shiver with want: muscles flexing as he pinned you down onto your shared bed, your preferred choice of restraints keeping you immobile and indecently spread for his blooming green eyes to observe. his pupils lined with brick reds dilated, the scholar stared at the resulting sight like a museum curator appraising an acclaimed artwork.
despite this, you were a fervent fire ablaze in the face of downpour, “it’s not like you to brute force your way into tackling a problem. was this morning’s session not enough for mister feeble scholar?”
ah. this artwork sure has a feisty personality to it.
al haitham snorted, his arm moving to place a hand on your inner thigh, tracing circles and indescribable patterns, “why do you bother futilely talking back and acting resilient in front of me, when it’s obvious how much power i hold over you? even the brightest students know to learn from their mistakes, so have you not learned from this morning about how powerless you are?”
he would never admit it, but while such display of bullheadedness irritated him when it came from other people, somehow it was almost adorable coming from you.
“wh- i'm not powerless!”
“the facts proved against your favor, however. especially considering how i’ve just succeeded in tossing you onto our bed and holding your body down. i know i could do whatever i wanted with you… and i was right, wasn’t i?” the hand holding your thigh squeezed briefly, his breath slowly caressing your skin the more he leaned closer, “besides, it’s also been proven that you like such treatments.”
you blushed, memories that proved his claims flooding your mind. yet, you huffed and looked away in hope to alleviate the warmth that was starting to bubble on your cheeks.
“so you might be needlessly strong physically, yes, okay, whatever. would you like a gold star for that?”
unfortunately(?) for you, despite the biting words, he didn’t miss the signs of your flustered state. his voice was as leveled as ever as more silken words fell from his lips; the very same ones you wished would just kiss you already, “remember how I pinned your hands above your head? how you tried kicking and wriggling, saying how you ‘can’t’ and yet… we both knew what exactly happened after that, don’t we?”
you felt your core clench at the taunt, throat swallowing at the picture he painted. your legs tugged against the straps as if you wanted to kick him. in turn, all you got back was an amused low chortle.
“cute,” the soft remark almost flew by you, but alas, before you could snap back at him, his touch started to trail further, tracing your labia before spreading the pink folds open with his fingers. an embarrassed squeak by you was followed by a condescending hum by your partner, his eyes zeroing on the slick coating your pretty clit and inner lips that oozed the remnants of your prior lovemaking, “and so mouthwateringly indecent.”
his digits dragged against your dripping cunt, a teasing smirk dancing on his face when a soft noise left your throat in response.
"such a mess," he remarked, infuriatingly nonchalant as if he hadn’t loved you so intensely just a few hours ago, “you were truly, completely cockdrunk last night, weren't you?"
“s-shut up…”
“why should i? you’ve mentioned how much you liked my voice. i doubt your perspectives had changed since then.”
“you don’t know that. maybe i don’t like it anymore,” you countered pettily.
“yet your body seems to arrive at a different conclusion,” the languid lull in his voice couldn’t mask the delight he experienced as he saw your sopping wetness drip with want. your lover smirked, dragging his finger up and down slowly, gathering your slick to circle around your swollen pearl, feathery touches leaving you wanting for more. the way you were shaking, your body twitching from sensitivity in return of his ministrations, was almost as hot as actual sex itself.
“ah… you meanie-” you inhaled sharply as this wicked, wicked man purposefully started rubbing your clit in the way he knew would make you putty in his hands. firm and calculated flicks followed by a finger slipping into your creamy cunt made you keen wantonly, thighs momentarily spreading wider before you found your decorum, rear falling back onto the soft sheets, teeth biting down on your bottom lip.
al haitham watched in fascination as you tried to regain your attitude. he wondered how long that would last this time. you were a puzzle that enthralled him, a chorus he wanted to listen forever. he might not have been studying under kshahrewar back in his younger days, but there was a part of him that wanted to pick you apart and put you back together again.
this was why he was so addicted to you.
he didn’t particularly enjoy doing extra work, but given the reward waiting for him at the end of the road, he determinedly doubled his action; one finger tapping and circling, the other knuckle-deep inside your tight heat, intense and unforgiving.
“fffuck- h-haitham-” the stutter of your needy voice sharpened his smirk, expression hardening into focus as he observed the twitch of your hips and the rivulets of juices coating his appendages. he briefly admired the way your skin glowed in perspiration, the way your fleshy parts rippled as you squirmed under him. no words could properly capture the desire brewing and consuming his whole being at having the privilege to witness such a sight.
he saw your breathing quicken, felt the clenching and unclenching of your walls, the way you started to move your hips as far as the restraints allowed, and your abdomen dipping as you inched nearer and nearer to bliss.
a mean glint of red, and his fingers withdrew quickly.
“wha- ah?”
you blinked and panted, eyes snapping wide as the coil loosened, and your sight settled on al haitham’s smug tilt of his head.
“i told you to stay still.”
“you… you prick! meanie! bastard!”
“that’s not the attitude you should be adapting given the current position of power,” he chided, before his hand deviously dropped back to its previous position, resuming in a much teasingly slower pace; a silent implication of what he could have done but chose not to, ”if you beg nicely, maybe i’ll allow you to cum. but be warned, you’ll be doing it until i am satisfied.”
“-son of a- oh! a-ah-” your words failed you as he added one extra finger into your warmth, prodding just near your favorite spot within the gummy walls, yet never directly.
you knew he could go deeper. he was dangling that carrot over you, and you were tempted to fall for his little game.
“pardon? what was that?” he asked, and if you didn’t see the way the corner of his lips curl up through your bleary eyes, you might have believed that he truly missed your barrages of insults born out of frustration, “would you like to say it louder?”
“archons, you- j-jerk!”
“oh?”
the sudden shift of his touch, turning firmer and faster, made you gasp and whimper, body twitching involuntarily as you felt the sensation build up yet again. your toes curl and your calves tensed, tugging against the harness as your biting words turned into needy moans. a shudder rocked your body, the back of your head digging onto the soft mattress as you felt him mouth on your collarbone, nibbling, tormenting in the most delectable way.
“use your words, darling. you were so smart with them just seconds ago.”
“haa- ngh! j-just let me cum, you unfair little-”
al haitham sighed like a disappointed tutor who had just discovered that his best student had earned an F in their recent exam. the sudden loss of his touch and the way you were forced to come down from that white-hot lines of satisfaction yet again made you cry out, the restraints straining noisily as you tried to buck onto something, anything.
a smirk returned onto his face as he witnessed your verbal and physical protest. that’s right, not yet. this was why he adored your stubbornness. he was going to tease and torment you until you were a total wreck, and then he would give you your reprieve in multitudes.
“how obstinate of you to continue denying your desires even when all outcomes dictate your loss,” the man remarked, palming your soft thighs and enjoying the way they dipped under the pressure of his hands. he was tempted to leave a few reds in the shape of his handprints, but he refrained… for now. that can come later.
“h-haitham….,” you mustered the wettest puppy eyes you could manifest - which wasn’t that hard considering the tears of pleasure already pooling in your eye lines - and blinking though your lashes at him, an adorable pout on your lips.
“what? is something missing to really help you release all of that tension?" he faked an indifferent tone fully meant to provoke.
you groaned, shivering as you felt the cold air brushing your flushed skin and swollen bundle of nerves begging for attention, “al haitham...!” you whined while quivering, eyes blown in desire, your pride refusing to budge any more than this.
the man smirked as your protests weakened with every seconds that ticked, the look of desire and lust in your eyes clearly increasing in intensity the more he reveled in your plight.
"hm?" he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, "still being stubborn?" he moved his middle finger towards the folds of your pussy, dragging it along your indecently leaking entrance and up into your aching clit, swirling slowly and making you shiver in response. even the smallest movements resulted in a sound that showcased how drenched you were, and it was all according to his plans, "are you sure you want to keep playing this game? you know who’s the more patient one in this relationship… you’re all tied up and i’m free to do this all day if i wanted to. i wouldn’t mind — it would be a good way to spend my day off.”
eyes teary, teeth gnawing on your lip, you bucked your hips as his finger touched the swollen nerves directly this time, "s-shut up...! you’re so- ugh! if you’re gonna be so cruel then don’t touch me at all!"
your beloved chuckled, dragging his digits up and down in the same teasing motion, playing with your sensitivity with a touch that sent you teetering to heaven but bordering to hell with how tortuously slow it was. he was a master as you were a slave to pleasure; your moans ramping up into wounded desperation just as he guided you back into the tightrope of lust, spiraling into the ecstasy you so desperately sought. you sobbed and trembled; heart beating loudly in your ears. you were so helplessly pent-up, so deliciously close-
“beg.”
the devil’s voice entered your ears and you grit your teeth. he wouldn’t, right? not for the third time. no, he wasn’t that despicable, he wouldn’t. he’ll give it to you, he’s-
“beg.”
the pressure lightened, and you inhaled sharply.
“please!” the word fell from your lips before you could stop them, “i need- i want…!”
your boyfriend stopped, a trail of your slick followed his appendages’ ascent as he withdrew to appreciate the stream of glistening slick coating your tender pussy and how your hips canted, trying to guilelessly chase his touch, throat singing a needy whine that sounded so beautiful he was almost tempted to keep denying your release for the next hour.
“haitham, please, please!” you sounded so high-pitched and so utterly adorable, he couldn’t help but place a peck on your thigh. tears of relief joined your tears of pleasure as you saw his pleased smile and the way he complied with your begging, though it still wasn’t enough.
“yes? don’t just call my name, darling. elaborate. go on, you can do it,” he carried on with the slow circles around your throbbing clit, fingers barely pumping into your drooling cunt.
“please! i can’t take it anymore…!" you hiccuped, keening, abdomen twitching, so sensitive that the slightest touch was making you toe on the brink of insanity.
al haitham smirked wickedly, watching as your mind and body were losing that self-control, your hips rocking back and forth while your face and eyes colored with pleasure. breathing in disarray, body a quivering mess, he almost wished he had a kamera to immortalize this perverse scene.
“are you asking me to help you release?”
“b-begging! i’m begging you- please let me cum!” you were definitely on the edge, shuddering, legs trying to flail against the tight bondage. a pleased groan rumbled in his throat, and his hand finally reverted into the pace and motions that made you see stars.
“louder,” a command.
“please help me cum!!!”
your muscles tensed as you tasted the precipice of bliss, your lips babbling, chanting his name and a series of undignified pleadings that implored him to not stop this time. you received an approving hum for your clear show of subservience and a soft peck on your cheek that made you moan in appreciation.
“i hope you didn’t forget what i said earlier,” he whispered against your ear, sultry and littered with hidden mischievous intent that you completely missed, too focused on reaching that high with each flick of his wrist and with each pressing prod of his finger—
the expertly placed thrust onto your g-spot was the cause of your crumble into depravity; walls sucking him in as your back arched in your climax. lips open in a silent scream, you missed the adoring look of your lover as he watched you spiral into bliss.
ah, your blissful ignorance is always so, so delicious to see.
before you could even start to wind down from your intense release, the sinful appendages picked up their salacious endeavors once more, three of them stirring your sopping wet mess and massaging your sweet spot relentlessly. al haitham’s mouth latched on your swollen bundle, his tongue flicking and sucking in turn, savoring your sweet taste and basking in your erotic cries that followed.
“can’t! can’t- too much! h-ah-ngh-!”
he ignored your feeble protests in favor of focusing on the task at hand; tongue lapping on the copious juices dribbling out of you as he pumped the slender fingers right onto your sensitive pussy’s weak spot. the sounds of your wetness echoed indecently in the room, a lewd orchestration of sensuality accompanied by your reprehensible babbling.
the second orgasm crashed against your senses and you sobbed, whining and jolting as he helped you ride it to your most satisfaction. eyes rolling, you barely registered the way he lapped at your juices like a man starved, before pulling back to observe the effect of his unholy actions. and he must have seen something, for when your vision cleared from euphoria, he had taken to caress you once again.
“one more. you can give me one more,” the rasp in his voice sent a jolt of desire in your loins, yet at the same time, the overstimulation had started to settle in. this time, the pleasure made your whole body tremor and for once you had no idea if the straps were a blessing or a curse; your limbs flailed and strained, instinctively writhing at the assault of stimulation.
“f-fuck! oh! a-archons- my love, please!!”
“i told you, didn’t i?” he purred, salacious and mocking, a flicker of red and a sneer, “’if you beg nicely, maybe i’ll allow you to cum. but be warned, you’ll be doing it until i am satisfied.’ well, my love, i am not yet satisfied.”
all senses of modesty had been thrown out of the window at this point. a series of disgraceful noises left your throat, tears running down your temples as you stayed rooted to your spot on the bed, oxytocin flooding your brain and numbing your senses. stringing words proved to be difficult when you were oversensitive and your lover seemed determined to see you mindless and utterly ruined by his touches.
if before, you were a helpless traveler stranded on a desert chasing on the mirage of an oasis, this time you felt like you were drowning in an ocean full of pleasure. all senses submerged in the ruthless waves of unbridled desires that made you both paralyzed and set you aflame.
“look at you,” al haitham's words came out harsh despite having a pleased hum to it as he battered your fleshy nub harder, insistent and undeterred by your unconvincing protests. he smirked, pleased with your cries and senseless noises leaving your lips, free from your brain’s usual filtering. your mind and body were already beyond your control as he slowly edged you closer and closer to that sweet release yet again. “so needy for me. gushing endlessly like you’re in heat.”
he watched you writhe and quake, a sliver of drool escaping the side of your opened mouth, his cock straining against the confines of his pants, but oh, he was enjoying every second of it. his free hand palmed your thigh before delivering a light slap, his eyes dilating when it made your breath hitch and your body jerk. each impact brought you to the absolute edge of delirium, and every time the pads of his fingers grind and stretched your gummy walls, the more debauched pleas left your emptied mind.
“c-cumming! cumming! i’m close, love, please! i’m- ah—”
“good,” it was almost sadistic, how he seemed to take so much satisfaction from seeing you so shamefully addicted to his mere fingers, “then come.”
a choked sob and a few insistent taps onto your oversensitive clit took your vision into a realm of whites. your finish was immaculately designed to enrapture you in a burst of nothingness, where nothing else mattered but you and your boyfriend's eloquent expertise. ears ringing, your consciousness temporarily froze in the state of heavenly rapture.
when you came down from the vivid paradise, you found your limbs freed from the restraints, your lover dutifully checking the reddened skin to make sure you hadn’t caused any injuries to yourself. seeing your glazed eyes settling onto his form, he leaned over and stroked your cheek, speaking in a soft voice with a caring tone far too detached from the demeaning and authoritative tone just moments ago.
“you did so well.”
though your senses were totally fried from the overstimulation and you still couldn’t exactly feel your limbs, a loopy grin spread on your lips. soft pair of green eyes watched you in adoration as he tucked you onto his chest, a gentle kiss descending on top of your head as he cradled you within his arms.
“verdict from one to ten?”
“mmmm…. twenty.”
“hm. it appears you’re still more delirious than i judged.”
a playful swat to his side was all you could manage, and you were rewarded with the rare soft laugh of your usually stoic lover.
“you’re adorable.”
“and you’re mean.”
“you speak as if the attitude does not bring you joy.”
“shut up and cuddle me.”
“ordering me around on my birthday? you’re spoiled.”
“and whose fault is that?”
“mine,” al haitham admitted with a smile, silently grateful for your presence, your witty banter, your hardheadedness, your loving eyes, your everything — you, who were undoubtedly and indubitably….
“mine,” he repeated and pressed another kiss, this time to your lips: a silent promise for spending his next birthdays with you once again.
bonus:
“still,” you sighed into his hold as your breathing steadied, looking up at him in half curiosity and half concern, “this doesn’t seem like a birthday present for you.”
al haitham looked down at you, the mischievous glint in his eyes returning. he guided your hand, and your small daydream of him being unusually romantic to initiate hand holding before spewing some cheesy lines like in those light novels were dashed when you found a familiar hardness twitching against your palm.
“bold of you to you think that my appetizer was the main course.”
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haunting-hole · 26 days
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this is so fucking funny to me bc unlike with her you Could argue that was the reasoning behind mithrun being sent to the canaries: choosing his brother who wasn't very physically strong or well regarded status-wise would probably be seen as insulting to the crown or whatever. mithrun was just mad about it bc despite being the 'perfect' son he still ends up in the losing side of this power dynamic, he's not angry his parents would trade a child for better status he's just angry that the child they traded was Him, despite him playing along by elf society's rules perfectly. but because he measures his own worth by how well he can play that role, him not reaping all the benefits that come with it automatically means he must be inferior somehow. Pattadol on the other hand. im sorry there's no way her parents just didnt pick whatever kid they'd care less about losing sorry pattadol. she was sent to the canaries after the utaya incident where whatever vast amount of elfs died was enough to leave them understaffed for years. there's no way a massacre like this wouldn't be fresh in any parents mind. even if they just couldn't refuse the queens request or something, it still stands that they looked at their kids and went. hm which one of those are we willing to risk getting utaya'd okay pattadol it was nice knowing you. and the only reason this doesn't utterly fuck her up as it should. is that shes genuinely like. nooooo was i a bad daughter :( well i can't think of any flaws that i have actually. am i just too awesome yeah that sounds right and im fine now. insane. entire crisis averted bc pattadol is simply too confident in herself
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comicaurora · 5 months
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Hey Red, sorry if this was asked already, but do you have any advice on writing a trickster hero? And do you have any favorites yourself?
Huh! This is something I've never really thought too hard about before, but I do have some loose and unformed thoughts!
So the trickster archetype is, broadly, a character who wins by being cunning and tricking the people around them. Typically this is because they are an underdog facing a powerful opponent, and if they face that opponent on the terms that opponent defines, they'll lose. For instance, a physically strong opponent might want to make everything into a contest of raw force; a politically powerful opponent might want to make things a legal battle; a commander of a large army might want to battle on a flat terrain-less battlefield and overpower the smaller enemy force through raw numbers; etc etc.
A trickster doesn't have the raw power to make a scenario happen. Instead, they achieve that scenario by making other characters make it happen, usually by misleading them into thinking it'll have some other outcome they want.
A classic example of this is found in a Brer Rabbit story where Brer Rabbit has been snatched by Brer Fox, and Brer Rabbit begs and pleads with him to not throw him into that briar patch, oh the torment he would experience in that briar patch would be unimaginable, drowning or burning would be bad but still better than that briar patch. Brer Fox naturally throws him into the briar patch, at which point Brer Rabbit vanishes into the underbrush and helpfully clarifies that he was born and bred in a briar patch. He was unable to escape through his own power, so instead he convinced Brer Fox that yeeting him into the briar patch would give Brer Fox something he wanted (Brer Rabbit's unimaginable torment) when in actuality it gave Brer Rabbit exactly the cover he needed to escape. It only worked because Brer Rabbit understood that Brer Fox was fundamentally not just hungry, he was cruel.
Tricksters usually achieve victory through lying, stealing, sneaking around and generally being dishonest. These are usually not seen as heroic traits, but the trickster hero is an archetype of character who is broadly heroic - and uses trickster tactics to win. It's an interesting suite of character traits to balance. In order to make a trickster heroic, them being the underdog usually needs to be played up. It's not really easy to root for someone with power to manipulate people for their own ends, but it's easy to root for someone scrappy and underleveled to manage to gumption their way to a victory over a broadly superior opponent.
A sympathetic trickster usually isn't someone who picks fights. Trouble comes to them, and then they need to find a way to escape or stop it. This is the paradigm that makes Bugs Bunny work as a trickster hero - he starts off basically every adventure minding his own business, and when someone comes around with a blunderbuss and a hankering for rabbit stew, their actions are what prompts him to unleash absolute hell on them by using toon physics and trapping them in ironclad social conventions to completely unbalance them until they're eventually defeated.
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If we see a big, loud, powerful jerk try to stomp on someone small and innocuous, we're inclined to root for the small and innocuous person. This setup makes us very eager to see the small and innocuous person use tricks and shenanigans to make a fool of the powerful jerk, and it automatically makes us more okay with the sympathetic character doing on-paper unheroic things like lies and manipulation as long as they're doing them to someone we're primed to dislike.
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So trickster heroes are usually fundamentally reactive characters. Something bad happens and they respond by unleashing hell. Another easy way to make a character instantly more heroic is to give them an even weaker, even more sympathetic character to protect or assist. Thus, many trickster heroes have a suite of supporting characters they're protecting who are not tricksters by nature, and are instead just there to be endangered or bullied by Nasty Mean Powerful People. Our trickster heroes stepping in to aid and protect other people thus gives their actions an even more heroic cast, because not only are they reactive to an outside threat, they're selflessly reactive.
This is the framing that's used in Leverage, where every episode has a victim of the week being cruelly taken advantage of by a jerkass of the week, at which point our team of liars, grifters and thieves roll up to ply their trade on the jerkass and award the spoils of war to the victim of the week. Because the person they're tricking is proven unequivocally to be truly awful and completely insulated from legal consequence a solid 98% of the time, we don't feel particularly bad seeing our team of heroes manipulate, gaslight and eventually absolutely destroy them over the course of a crisp 40 minutes. The vileness of the villain combos with the innocent powerlessness of the person they're advocating for, and thus their assorted unheroic qualities become reframed as absolutely heroic due to the circumstances under which they use them.
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Crucial to the formula is the horrendous nastiness of the villain of the week, because if we were even kind of sympathetic to them, the schemes of the protagonists would be kinda scary. They are very good at quickly getting the bad guy to trust them and then taking apart everything they've built, and that's only fun to watch if the audience is 100% sure the villain deserves it and is not going to spend too much time thinking "wow, it would be terrifying if that happened to me." The fact that our heroes almost always take them down simply by leveraging (heh) the bad guy's badness is a big part of what makes the formula work. Almost every episode is functionally similar to a Briar Patch scenario - "oh gosh I sure hope no SOULLESS CAPITALIST VAMPIRES take advantage of how MANIPULABLE I am to try and get my MONEY and/or VALUABLES", and then the villain's own established cruelty cascades into their downfall when it runs into the dominos our heroes have set up to expose them. And that does a lot to make the audience sympathize with a crew of four self-admitted terrible people (and Hardison, who's an angel and we're delighted to have him)
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Another way to get the audience to root for a potentially nonstandard protagonist is to set them up against a villain who is smug. Smugness is a very dangerous trait for any character to have, because it primes the audience to want to see them break. A villain who thinks they are too powerful or too strong or too smart to be defeated has the audience immediately rooting for them to be proven wrong just so they can watch the expression on their face. This is the strat they use in Columbo.
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Every Columbo villain is rich and powerful and very insulated from legal consequences, and we start every episode seeing them arrange and execute an attempt at a perfect murder. We know from the start how they did it and usually why, and because they are smug - they are almost never regretful or reluctant - we become invested in seeing how Columbo figures out what they did, how they did it, and how he can prove it and get them arrested. Columbo is a nonstandard kind of trickster hero, because he is deeply and fundamentally a Lawful Good archetype, but he is also a very casual liar. The only time the audience sees Columbo almost certainly telling the truth is when he's dealing with background characters, his fellow policemen or his dog, or when he's by himself silently putting the pieces together; at all other points in the episode he will typically conceal how much he knows, how he knows what he knows and why he's asking specific probing questions. The audience has a tremendous amount of dramatic irony in terms of information about the perfect murder Columbo has to disassemble; we'll see Columbo zero in on exactly the one small detail that pokes a hole in the supposed airtight alibi, but instead of saying "I think you killed them and I am determined to prove it" he'll dance around why he's focusing on those details - just curiosity, just a desire for completeness, his superiors told him to continue the case and he doesn't know why, his wife is just such a big fan of their work, etc etc.
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As a rule, the first time in any given episode that Columbo admits he's suspicious of the villain is the beginning of the last scene of the episode when he proves that they did it and they subsequently surrender. When Columbo is dealing with the villain, absolutely nothing he says can be trusted until that final scene - and it's a rare treat to get a glimpse of Columbo showing an honest emotion, especially something like genuine fury. Most of the time he maintains a very harmless and affable attitude, but sometimes when the villains are very smug and they know he's suspicious of them but can't prove anything yet, his righteous anger peeks through and we see why he does this.
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He's a trickster hero because he can't unravel the case, the villain's motivation and the shape of the crime if the villain knows everything he knows and can correspondingly keep up with him. But he is 100% committed to exposing the truth of the situation and making the murderer face justice. Their perfect alibi is supposed to protect them from everything, but it's their confidence and certainty that they could never be caught that Columbo leverages to win. They never know entirely what to make of him, and he's never wholly honest with them - and with the audience - until the very end of the episode. It's good, cathartic payoff to an episode's worth of lies and manipulation from both main players, and it's always fun to see the non-smug party on the side of justice come out on top.
Some trickster heroes are more like standard heroes with trickster tendencies that occasionally surface. These guys are usually pretty straightforward, but in a pinch they can bust out a surprisingly cunning scheme or two - one such moment hits at the climax of Across the Spider-Verse, and it's a great moment of characterization for Miles, who has thus far been a pretty typically heroic guy who has unfortunately spent the entire movie thus far being lied to by people he trusted. It kicks off an enormously long and complicated chase sequence that takes the entire spider-community out of the home base chasing him through an absolutely massive complex and eventually onto a space elevator. It's such a fluid scene, you kind of just accept that it's a desperate chase sequence - Miles is just running. It doesn't occur to the other spider-people that Miles might have a plan beyond running until he basically tells Miguel that, hey, he did just get every other spider-person out of the facility that has the portal to get him home. He wasn't just running away, he was luring everybody away so he can leave.
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And this moment is fantastic on a meta-level, because Spider-Man is traditionally a bit of a trickster hero. Most of his enemies are able to physically outpace him, and he needs to use mobility and strategy to take them down, often luring them into environments that work against them - like a fun moment in Spectacular Spider-Man where Spidey defeats the Rhino by luring him into a steam tunnel and basically giving him heatstroke through his armor plating. But because the entire core theme of this movie is "Miles isn't a real Spider-Man," it literally doesn't seem to occur to the other spider-people that Miles's seemingly panicked running might be him pulling a Spider-Man on them. We're so used to being in Miles's head and knowing when he's got a plan or a ploy that this is a very fun moment to watch. He's successfully deceived an entire army of spider-people, and the audience is just as blindsided as Miguel - and a little less electrocuted, so it's a lot more fun for us.
So yea, trickster heroes are a fun little space of character, but you gotta be careful to put them in the right kind of situation, lest their fundamental dishonesty come across as alarming rather than extremely rad.
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wannabespiderman · 4 months
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Starving.
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Thank you so much to everyone that was so nice to like and reblog my previous post <3 I really appreciate it and it gave me inspiration to write more! Fair warning that I wrote this while being a little tipsy so some typos may have occured.
Bucky Barnes x reader
Bucky completely forgot what it was like to be touched in a way that wasn't punishing. Well, until he met you.
.
.
.
Bucky Barnes was a conundrum. He was strong, stoic and had a head through the wall attitude. On the inside though…he was like a frail house of cards on a windy day. It was about a fifty-fifty chance if he turned cold or broke down. Well, actually, when he was out and about he would derealize and turn passive a hundred percent of the time. With you on the other hand, in the confinement of your own home, this massive, build man would turn into a weeping little boy. At first he didn’t know what to do with himself when his walls broke down in front of you. It was a feeling he wasn’t familiar with and the vulnerability made him feel small and weak, something he experienced regularly while he was still with hydra, something that he wasn’t allowed to show back then.
The same night he broke down in front of you for the first time you had your arms wrapped around him before his tears could even start to fall. Bucky’s mind went haywire the second your body touched his.
It was like he couldn’t comprehend how a touch could be this soft and warm, so void of anger or malicious intent.
It felt like it made him almost feel worse but at the same time he couldn’t bring himself to rip himself away from you.
And then he got hooked.
He was always flirty with you and heavy on the PDA, constantly having his hand on your waist or leg or hell, even on your ass while his face was buried in your hair. He could touch you easily, shower you in physical affection in front of anyone who was unfortunate enough to hang out with you two at the same time.
When you touched him, you had to be alone because that was the time his guard went down. Only you were allowed to hear him sniffle and whimper and see him curl into a ball on your bed while he let you run your fingers through his hair. Bucky never talked about why he cried so you could only speculate if someone said something triggering or if last night’s nightmares tortured him throughout the day but you didn’t ask him about it. All you knew was that he needed your touch and you were not only happy to give him that, you took this job very seriously.
You’d tenderly catch his tear drops with your thumb while he leaned into your touch like it was his oxygen and held him in your arms when he basically folded himself in half to fit into them. But it wasn’t only when he was sad or overwhelmed that he needed your touch, actually it was allowed any time of the day as long as you two were alone. He appreciated every small brush of your hand when you gestured too much with your hands or tried to push past him in the narrow hallway and almost every time a small sound would escape him. He was just…addicted as he’d call it. Addicted to your soft hands that fit the equally soft touch.
He'd say he’s addicted while you knew the truth. The poor man was touch starved and hell, if you weren’t gonna be the one who’d give him what he so terribly needed.
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remlionheart · 21 days
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NSFW Alphabet: Chuuya Nakahara Edition ♡
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⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ MDNI. really needed a fun lil drabble to break up my writer's block and this was perfect. silly but super fun to write. lemme know whatcha think. luv u ♡ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Chuuya definitely gives you aftercare, it's just not always the most well thought out when he’s gotten back from a long night at work. He doesn't remember to have dinner ready or pajamas laid out, but he still holds you as you collapse onto his chest. Laughs with you while the two of you place the 4th doordash order of the week to his apartment since you're both too spent to even think about cooking. He runs light fingers through your hair and kisses your forehead, teasing you for how hard you came while also reminding you of how fuckin' gorgeous you looked bent over for him. The thought of it alone promptly brings his lips back to yours, nearly earning you a round 2 before the food arrives.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
It takes Chuuya a long time to admit it, even if it's fairly obvious, but he's self-conscious about his body. About the way he thinks it should look versus the way it actually does. He’s always praising you. Always so good about making you love parts of yourself that you didn't know you could, though he rarely gives himself the same respect. Your thighs get a lot of his attention. He touches them constantly without meaning to. His hand resting on them while he drives. His fingers mindlessly gliding across them while you watch TV before bed. His face buried between them any chance he gets. He loves 'em. You decide to challenge him one day after a shower, using his own words against him: "Chuuya, tell me one thing you love about yourself -" you shoot him a pointed look, not giving him the chance to deflect with his usual sarcasm, "and be serious. You have to mean it." He stares at himself in the mirror for a moment, apprehensively looking over his reflection before he lets out a sharp exhale. "Fine. My eyes." "What about them?" You press. "They're... nice."
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
One of Chuuya's favorite highs in life is being pussy-drunk. Being so completely enamored by your taste and scent that he can't physically think of anything else besides you. He loves the feeling of your cum dripping down his chin. The insanely beautiful fucked-out noises you make for him when you sit on his face and nearly drown him in your release. He gets a sick satisfaction in showing up to work, knowing that there are still remnants of the morning head he gave you clinging to the collar of his shirt. You're his girl and he takes making you cum very seriously.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Chuuya is a dominant people pleaser, which is a dangerous combination to begin with, but especially when it starts blending into his finances. Being a Port Mafia executive, he has more money than he knows what to do with and he fucking loves buying you stuff. Taking you on shopping trips and watching you fill bag after bag with frivolous, designer outfits that you’d never buy for yourself otherwise. Swiping his debit card for purses and necklaces and shoes that total out to nearly $10,000. There's something almost addicting about it, he revels in your reactions. The way you look so awestruck every time he drops a fat stack of cash on you, but also how good it makes him feel being able to spoil you as much as he does. Alexa, what does “findom” mean?
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Chuuya’s experienced, but a lot of his past hookups were one nightstands or meaningless flings. Drunken mishaps that held little to no weight in his mind. You've both learned a lot from each other by being comfortable enough to explore things you wouldn't have with previous partners. Communication is so strong with him. He always wants to know what you like and if there’s anything you want to try but haven’t yet. He wants to know everything about your body - wants it to only respond to him. He'd had sex in the past, but he realized that he'd never really properly fucked someone until he met you.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
As much as Chuuya loves bending you over, he’s such a slut for you being on top. Holding your hips to help guide you and thrusting up into you when you’re not expecting it, going as deep as he can while you sink back onto him with a pretty glazed over expression. The way your eyes widen every time he does it. The duality of being in control while also letting you use him. The view of your tits bouncing so perfectly for him while the sound of your ass smacking against his thighs echoes across the room. He loves watching you struggle to take the whole thing. You're usually holding onto him for support, hands clasped around his neck, your stare locked intently with his while your cunt throbs around him. The pouty fucking look that takes over your face when he plunges into you. You become a whimpering mess, trying to tell him how close you are with broken words as if he can’t feel your walls clenching around him. "Chuuya - 'm, I'm gonna -" "I know baby, keep going. Keep fuckin’ going. Doin’ so good f’me.”
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Chuuya's form of flirting is witty banter. Sarcastic comments that the two of you volley back and forth between each other. He's generally more serious in the moment, but he will literally never pass up the chance to whisper a snarky little nothing in your ear to get you flustered, especially in public. He loves making you blush. Loves knowing that he's capable of getting you so worked up without even touching you. Loves seeing you squirm and swat him away with a feeble, "Chuuya! Not here!"
H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Chuuya never really understood the question, "does the carpet match the drapes?" and why it was such a hot topic when it came to redheads. It was wildly irritating growing up and getting asked that so often by his asshole friends. Of course they matched. Why wouldn't they? As an adult, Chuuya fully embraces this though. He takes pride in making sure he's well-groomed. If it were up to him, your lips would always be wrapped around his cock, so he makes sure to keep things as trimmed and polished as he can for you.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Chuuya is the consent king, always making sure that you're just as into what's going on as he is. He finds subtle ways to check in on you while staying in the moment. "Tell me, baby. Tell me how it feels." He likes to make sure you're present, that you're not thinking about anything else besides the way he feels inside you. He would do anything to make you feel good. Anything. What he can't aways say with his words, he shows through his actions. He lets you know he loves you by stretching and filling you until you can’t see straight. He may act like he’s the one calling the shots, but you'll always cum before he does. He makes damn sure of it.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
His work schedule is demanding and doesn't always grant him the amount of time he'd like to have with you, so when he's stuck in his office after hours, Chuuya can't fucking help himself. The urge has been there all. day. and he's certain he'll die if he doesn't take care of it right now. He reaches into his coat pocket, dialing your number while he unzips pants and removes his glove with his teeth. His cellphone is wedged between his shoulder and his cheek when your voice finally spills out of the receiver. Before you can even ask how his night's going, you hear it. That desperate, heady tone that he only gets when he hasn't seen you in a few days. "Baby..." he groans, stroking himself upppp and dowwnn. He closes his eyes, imagining what you must look like lying in his bed. "I need you so fuckin' bad right now." "Yeah?" You tease, quietly slipping two fingers under the hem of your panties. "How bad?" It was only a matter of minutes before he was cleaning off his desk from the mess you'd helped him make.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Chuuya is the softest dom. As much as he likes to be in control, he folds so easily when it comes to you. Even when he’s “punishing” you, he’s doing it with things he knows you like. He loves putting collars on you or wrapping his belt around your neck and pulling at both ends until your pretty little pupils blossom into hearts while you struggle to moan out his name. Hearing you beg does something deranged to him that he can't quite put into words. He stays in control for as long as he can, but you always have the upperhand with how bad he wants to taste you. With how bad he wants to be buried inside of you. He'll tease and nip at you and try to drag it out for as long as he can, but at the end of the day, he's just as addicted to you as you are to him.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Chuuya will fuck you anywhere and when he says anywhere, he means it. His favorite guilty pleasure though is definitely bringing you into Port Mafia. Making everyone well-aware of your presence as he walks around with you on his arm like you're the shiniest, most expensive accessory he owns. Shoving all of his paperwork off of his desk and bending you over, pinning your hands behind your back and pressing your face against the handcrafted Mahogany. Hiking up your skirt and ramming himself into you, knowing damn well everyone can hear you crying out his name as you cum. His two favorite pastimes: pissing off Mori and fucking you.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Chuuya secretly loves the attention you get when the two of you go out, even if it drives him a bit crazy at times. He can't deny the way his cock twitches when he notices the bartender size you up and then immediately avert his eyes when he feels Chuuya's stare on him. Chuuya knows you're gorgeous, it's an absolute fact for him, but to see the other people reel in how pretty you are too fills him with a feral sense of pride. He would fuck you in front of the entire world if he could just to show them what they'll never have.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
There are very few things that Chuuya wouldn't do for you, but the one request he would struggle with if asked would be sharing. Even if it was a casual threesome with no strings attached, he’s a Taurus Sun, Scorpio moon - the man does not share and the thought of having to watch someone else touch you would most definitely send him into a murderous tailspin.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Chuuya loves both giving and receiving, for sure. But there's something about the way you taste that almost makes his brain short-circuit. He thinks about it while he's at work. Thinks about it while he's on missions. Thinks about it while he fucks himself when you're not around. He often finds himself daydreaming about his tongue swirling around your clit and the adorable, pitiful, fucked-out noises you make so easily for him. The way you whine and writhe against him. How he can always tell when you're close by the way your words start to break up. That cute little incoherent babble you let out as he plunges an extra finger into you and your eyes roll into the back of your head. He’s pretty sure that if he had to choose his own death, it would be drowning between your thighs.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Pacing all depends on the mood and setting for Chuuya. It's 1 am and you guys just stumbled back home from the bar? You're wearing the shortest black slip dress he's ever seen in his life, and he's had to restrain himself all night from not dragging you into the club bathroom and having his way with you? He's fucking you into oblivion the second you step inside his apartment. Hands tangling into your hair as he pins you against the wall of the entry way, pulling you up so that your legs are wrapped around his waist. It's going to be fast, rough, deep. You'll both wake up with bruises and love bites and well-deserved hangovers. But - it's 1 pm on a rainy Tuesday and you guys just got back home from the bookstore? You're wearing an oversized cardigan with a comfy pair of shorts, and he's been quietly admiring you all day, watching you dig through countless bookshelves until you finally found the one you wanted? He's fucking you so thoroughly. Taking his time as he helps you out of your sweater, smiling at your body with each layer of clothing that get tossed to the floor. He's kissing the crook of your neck, telling you how beautiful you are. He's fucking you with slow, sensual, affection. You'll end up drifting off to the sound of the thunderstorm afterward, the two of you wrapped up under a blanket on the couch while the rain taps against the window next to you.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Chuuya's a giver who loves a challenge so quickies are right up his alley, really. You'll stop by the apartment on your lunch break, warning him that you only have 15 minutes, but he’ll only roll his eyes in response before telling you to hop up on the counter. He locks in immediately, his concentration fully on you as he spreads you apart. Two fingers holding you open so that his tongue has complete access to your clit, the warmth of his mouth and the pressure of his strokes making your legs shake around his head already and he's just gotten started. He's precise. Calculated. Unrelenting. Even if he's only competing against the clock, he's still never lost.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
As long as you're into it, so is Chuuya. He's very open when it comes to sex, especially when it comes to talking about it with you. You had a wet dream about him fucking you against the window in the sunroom so that the neighbors could see it? Lift that skirt up, angel, let's go give them a show. You read a book where the male lead lightly ran a blade across the main character’s throat while teasing her and you think you want to try it? His knife is already out of his pocket, his hand cradling your jawline. “Tell me how bad you want it, baby.” as he slices through the thin straps of your tank top, smirking at how hard your nipples are while it slips down to your waist. There a very few things he wouldn't be willing to at least try with you.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Chuuya can generally go a solid 2 rounds before he's completely spent, but if he's drunk, this number could be multiplied depending on his drink of choice that night. Chuuya's stamina is solid. He lasts awhile, but his entire objective while fucking is to make sure you're getting off. He's very in tune and aware of your body and tries to go with the flow of where you're at. If you can handle an hour or two, he'll gladly give it to you. He has no problem playing the long game, but if you're sleepy and only need twenty minutes to get there, he'll make sure he cums with you in that time. A truly adaptable king ˚₊‧ʚ♡ɞ‎‧₊˚
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
There's an armoire in Chuuya's bedroom that houses all of the obscenely expensive vibrators you'd asked him to buy you, not realizing he actually would at the time. He likes to keep them hidden for the most part - out of sight, out of mind. He'll be in the middle of fucking you. Stretching you out while your nails dig into his back. He'll feel your walls start to spasm around him. He'll watch your eyes flutter back. He'll feel how tight and snug your cunt is squeezing him. He'll know you're right there and that's when he'll pull out your favorite wand. Always when you're least expecting it. When you're already so cock-drunk and lost that you don't think you could possibly take anything more, he'll run it along your clit. Your body practically convulsing at the overstimulation. "Chuuya - ohmygod... I... I - can't. I can’t, I can’t -" "Look at me. You can take it, baby. I know you can. Gimme one more, okay? Just like that. There you go. Fuuuck, baby. Just - like... that."
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
The amount of sheer pleasure Chuuya derives from making you beg for him should be illegal. He’s constantly teasing you. Constantly trying to coax out desperate little cries from you. You're splayed out beneath him, legs spread beautifully, your cunt nearly dripping onto his sheets and he's still ghosting your lips with his. Wearing the most infuriating grin as he continues to rattle off depraved things like, "Baby, I wish I could, y'know? I really wanna give it to you, but I just don't believe that you want it." all while he's stroking himself just inches above you, making you watch the whole thing in agony but still not letting you touch him yet. "C'mon princess, show me how bad you want it. Let me see how you play with that pussy when I'm not here. Make me fuckin’ believe it.”
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Chuuya will groan and talk during sex, but he's not necessarily loud. He's way more concerned with the noises you're making anyway. As mentioned, his bedroom love language is taunting. "No? You can't take it anymore? Ohh, your pussy's just so sensitive, huh? That's so sad. My poor sweet girl." before slapping your clit and smirking at you as you whine beneath him. "Oh, look at that. Seems like you can take it after all.” He'll groan against you whenever he goes down on you, reveling in how fucking wet you are for him.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Chuuya is secretly sentimental. He might not always admit it, but he doesn't just remember your anniversary - he remembers the outfit you were wearing the first time he met you and what the weather was like that day. He saves ticket stubs from your dates. Takes pictures of you when you're not looking just so he can keep the moment forever. He plans gifts for your birthday weeks in advance. Any time you list off a restaurant that you want to try or a vacation spot you want to visit one day, he secretly jots it down in his notes app. He listens to you, really listens to you when you talk and keeps every gift you give him, no matter how small or insignificant.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Chuuya is 5'3, (though he'll most definitely try to convince you that the measurements are off no matter how many times your scale reaches the the same conclusion). Slender. Nice arms and a slutty fucking waist. Hands, hands, hands. Usually covered by gloves but so fucking pretty and veiny when they're not. Speaking of veiny? Chuuya Nakahara is packing. Giiiiirth, babydoll, and a lot of it. Short men are ALWAYS stacked, you can't argue with science.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Chuuya's anger and sex drive mirror each other in the sense that they're both always on no matter what. Even when they're calmed down, even when they're not as noticeable - all it takes is one wrong (or right) move and he's right there, fully up and ready to go. You touch his leg under the table during dinner one night and he immediately finds an excuse to dismiss the two of you for a few minutes, dragging you to a secluded corner of the bar where he pins you against the wall. His leg wedged between yours, leaving urgent kisses along your collarbone as he creates friction against your clit. “This what you want? For me to fuck you right here?” You try to keep your resolve but it’s hard for him to take you seriously when your objections are all coming out in the form of moans. “My needy fuckin’ girl.”
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He'll lay with you and talk about your day, but Chuuya is struggling to keep his eyes open after he cums. The minute you nestle into his shoulder, and he feels the warmth of your skin against his, he's fighting for his life to stay awake. Poor baby is just so tired, especially after dealing with Port Mafia all week. He feels safe in your arms. The thought of coming home to you is what gets him through most days anyway so once he's finally actually tangled up in you, he can't help but drift off into the comfort of your scent and the sound of your heartbeat.
⠀𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅
‎♡‧₊˚ here’s dazai’s version ‎♡‧₊˚
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