#there are too many of them it doesn't feel right to tag them all somehow?

[posletsvet]

Death Is a Mirror, or How Death Is Linked to the Sense of Self in Jujutsu Kaisen

Death is a fulcrum of Jujutsu Kaisen's message, a major point of reference for both the audience and the characters within the story. Death is a mirror that catches and reflects the last light of a life reaching its end, a moment of full disclosure that overcomes all distances and renders all defenses permeable. Death is a mirror as it asks one question: who are we when there's no more need to lie?

The thread that binds together all major characters' deaths in Jujutsu Kaisen is how, despite multiple characters trying in an unreliable-narrator-sort of fashion to convince us otherwise, no one's truly alone in death. The connections that people forge with others throughout their lives become their tethers to the world -- and then reach even further, transcending death itself. This is how humans, using Jogo's words, can still linger after they die: through the loving memory of those they held dear.

No human exists in a vacuum. We live in the context of our relationships with the world, of getting to know and getting to be known in return. Our lives, in a sense, are a dialogue -- that's why we give and are given names. We shape the images of ourselves through establishing connections with others; our self-recognition and sense of self come from recognizing those connections. Once again, we learn the outllines of our souls by bumping into others.

These two concepts, recollecting your 'tethers' before death and acquiring self-reflection in others, are consistently brought together in the story. Before everything else, it's reflected in Yuuji's (who the story's focal point as its protagonist) idea of a meaningful death, one gone surrounded by those you love. Nobara, who possesses arguably the strongest sense of self with her loud proclamation 'I'm Nobara Kugisaki!' and who's highly conscious about her relationships with other people. Megumi, whose overarching struggle for self-determination has him relying on others to define his own worth and leaves him passively suicidal. Toji, who in his last moments thinks about his family and understands that by leaving them behind he deviated from his true self. Nanami, whose fading mind conjures the image of his closest friend and who, guided by that, chooses to go south and stay true to himself. Kokichi is yet another example, and actually quite an interesting one. His character is explored primarily through the juxtaposition between the concept of 'the body within the world' and his forced isolation, but who still contextualizes the world through his connections with his friends. It's no coincidence that Kokichi's character arc is closely linked to Mahito, who is dubbed a mirror of death.

In short, there's a plethora of instances where death and one's sense of self are tied to one another like that. I'll ramble a bit about how this correlation is discovered in both Gojo and Geto's characters below the cut.

The lack of self

Gojo is somebody who's essentially lacking both connections to others and a sense of self-identity. His entire personality is shaped around the notion that he's The Strongest, the very thing which prevents him, even if in his own mind, from building meaningful relationships with the people around him.

Not having to challenge or change his self-image, Gojo has little to no recognition of himself as a person outside of his title. He has never faced a need to discover himself in relation to the world; he was given a foundation to construct his identity on upon birth. Did he really need to grow past that and redefine himself? Satoru lacks self-reflection -- most literally.

With Gojo's face obscured by the gaping void, we do not get to see his reflection. I'd say it's quite an apt visualization of Gojo's identity crisis. Who are you if not The Strongest? As Gojo's position is challenged with his Infinity suddenly overcome, this question is forced onto him.

But as he's spent over a decade trying to escape answering it, he never got a chance to acquire a definitive answer. So now, in Shibuya, he flees from it once more.

It's painfully ironic and at the same time fully logical that it is Geto who exposes this issue to Satoru as Gojo's sense of self is arguably connected to him more than anyone else. During their student years Suguru was the one who persistently rejected treating Gojo as a title and not a person, who looked through decorum and actively chose to see him not as Gojo Satoru, The Strongest but rather as Gojo Satoru, a teenage boy. For Gojo, it was through Geto recognizing him as a person that he was able to reach that recognition, too.

But after Toji Gojo is forced to seek self-affirmation and validate his ego by reclaiming his position, which was threatened by him losing to somebody for the first time. He tries to reinforce his self-image by separating himself from the world, which ultimately leads not only to his now automatic Infinity rendering him unreachable (= disconnected), but also to a loss of his sense of self as he loses his one and only connection.

As I've already said, with the Prison Realm breaching the defenses of Gojo's technique, this issue, his lack of a firm sense of identity beyond his title, is exposed to him once more. It's reflected in the way Satoru places his priorities post-unsealing. He fights Sukuna with seemingly a single purpose of cementing his position as the strongest sorcerer alive and thus regaining his uderstanding of who he is. The answer to this question has never lain in the plane of strength alone, though, and that is why Satoru fails utterly.

But in death, as the relevance of his Infinity is eliminated, Gojo is finally able to reconnect with his sense of self. He's reverted to his teenage self, to the time he could still relate to somebody on a personal level and get stronger for it. The entirety of the 236 chapter, in a sense, is written as an affirmative: he is The Strongest because he is Satoru Gojo, not the opposite, but it's his death which makes him finally recognize this.

The deviation from self

Now, this image could not be intended as a visual parallel to Gojo's reflection, or lack of thereof, in the Prison Realm's eye. Nonetheless seeing that scene in Shibuya animated immediately reminded me of it, and I think there potentially might be some thematic similarities between the two as well.

Talking about how our identities are defined by our connections to other people as much as our relationship with ourselves, it'd be only logical to assume that Geto should have a firm grasp on who he is. Not only is he a deeply self-reflective character, but also one who actively relates to others.

However, Geto's reflection in Gojo's eyes is unclear and uncertain, almost indistinguishable. It might be a neat way to convey how, finally taking a moment to look at his best friend for the first time since SPVI, Gojo doesn't really recognize him for how much he's changed. But it also could hint at how Geto, driven to the point where he bends and warps his beliefs to justify his actions, also bends and warps his sense of self.

At least how I see it, the image above calls to mind this panel:

The moment Geto tells Satoru he's decided on 'his true feelings' which would define him as a person. Isn't it ironic how in the exact same conversation he talks about how the goal he's settled upon is only possible for Gojo, meaning striving to achieve it would be akin to trying to become someone he's not? The light novel outright tells us as much:

This was the final confession of a man who could only choose to warp himself, who had erased himself in pursuit of his goals. The only person who could bear such a curse was Gojo Satoru.

In this light it's interesting how Gojo's struggle with his sense of self makes itself known through something which threatens his position as The Strongest, whereas Geto's is reflected in the eyes of someone to whom he refers while saying 'If I could become you...', deviating from himself.

A major factor of overcoming trauma is embracing the inadequacy of what happened. So, to a certain extent, by becoming an enemy to the system Suguru wants to prove the world of jujutsu sorcerers wrong and himself -- right. It once again reminds me of Toji's dying thoughts.

The flip side of 'deciding on your true feelings' is ultimately anchoring your entire identity to what is just a single aspect of it. People exist in motion, and our personalities are in actuality as dynamic and complex as our relationships. But Geto bound his self-definition to what was rather simply a reactive feeling, so in the end he inevitably failed to live up to it.

And once again, it's exposed at the moment of Suguru's death. In his case, though, this failure is also what leads to his defeat and consequent death in the first place. I also find it curious how Geto's face is the first thing Gojo sees in the afterlife, while Gojo's face is the last thing Geto sees and acknowledges in his life. And just like Gojo, in his last moments Suguru reminisces about their shared past.

The image almost mirrors what we saw in the chapter 236, suggesting how Geto's true self is in turn tied to Satoru. Despite how vague and uncertain their relationship's come to be, the two are rendered inseperable even in death -- or rather, in death especially.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk analysis #jjk meta #god i don't know which characters to tag and in what order #gojo satoru #geto suguru #satosugu #yuuji itadori #nobara kugisaki #megumi fushiguro #toji fushiguro #nanami kento #kokichi muta #mahito #there are too many of them it doesn't feel right to tag them all somehow? #i was trying to keep it short but it obviously got out of hand #*sighs in frustration* #something something you'd say you love me and look in my eyes but i know through mine #you were looking in yours #but not in a derogatory way! #it's all about connections! it's all about tethering! it's about learning who you are through the people around you #we are maps of our experiences and we carry with us everyone we met along the way and let in #that is the gist #jjk manga spoilers #probably should include this tag too #actually not a fan of how pretty much everything i write eventually turns into a satosugu post #but what would you do i guess #*sighs in frustration once more*

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twelve —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: *hint at sexual assault. please be cautious!* death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

Dense mud packs onto the soles of your boots. You shift the near-empty backpack on your shoulder and slip back a few sweat-laced strands of hair from your face. Never before were you a morning person. In fact, you used to purposely sign up for all the afternoon lectures in uni. But now, time and sunlight are precious. You set out to search for the camp this morning with only a sliver of sunrise as your companion. 

You hope Ghost was right.

He suspected that their camp would be situated in a location with easy access to the military base, river, and nearby village so they could draw resources from all three. So that's the direction you're headed in, squinting at nearby landmarks and interstate signs to help guide you. It's quite the hike: grueling, hilly terrain and moist air that you can't distinguish from your own sweat. You've stepped over some interesting sights along the way. An old forest station with CAMP FEES and LEAVE NO TRACE posters still outside. A small skeleton tucked in a bush with only child-sized rainboots left on it. For a moment, you saw Joseph. Toddling around in the puddles outside your sister’s house. You had to force yourself not to look at it for too long; you wiped your eyes, gritted your teeth, and prayed it had been painless for them.

You come to a narrow creek, crossing over a stone bridge that spits you out among dense evergreens. Finally, a faint column of smoke comes into view just above the forest's canopy. 

That must be it.

It's certainly a sign, so you suck in a shaky breath, ignore the rush of blood in your veins, and do what Ghost suggested: climb a tree to get a better look. 

There was a time not long ago when climbing trees was your only means of survival. This time, it feels so much easier to hoist yourself up and grip the bark as your muscles flex to steady yourself on a high branch. Luckily, there wasn't much to bring in the backpack Ghost gave you. For now, there's nothing in it other than your lighter, a roll of gauze, that romance book, and a small piece of dry wood. 

Squinting your gaze, you make out the silhouette of triangular, orange tents and uneven fencing. Definitely a camp. The fence doesn't appear barbed from here, but it's at least a meter higher than the one that surrounds Ghost's place. You're close enough to see a few blue crates in the center that look like those ones from the military medical site. Is that what they're keeping the supplies in? It seems like the only obvious place based on the layout.

What you really want to know is how many people. Soundlessly, you shift your boots to get a different angle and finally spot movement coming out of one of the tents— a sizeable male wearing a leather jacket.

One.

Is that it?

Your eyes stay locked on the stranger for a minute, tracking his movement as he cooks something over the fire. He gives out a long whistle, the high-pitched sound audible even from where you stand nestled in the treetop. Panic seizes your breath: did he somehow see you and is alerting someone else? But no— you're much too far, and his eyes never shifted in your direction. 

Instead, there's more movement, the faint shuffling of paws on the ground, and then a large dog appears at the man's side. He tosses something in front of it, what must be a slab of meat, because the dog is quick to start chowing down with the enthusiasm of a mindless Grey.

"Fuck me," you whisper to yourself, fingertips splintering against the bark. "Couldn't prepare me for that, huh, Ghost?"

The plan he instructed you with is fairly simple and straightforward— you'll just have to stick to it and be mindful of the additional obstacle. You've survived much worse even just a few days ago, so with that in mind, you slip down the column of the tree and purposefully backtrack your steps, gaining a bit more distance between you and the camp. 

You need a ruse, something to draw the man out for enough time for you to grab the ammo. Ghost told you to bring the book to help get a fire started since the twigs and leaves here are damp after the storm, so you find a good spot and start ripping out the pages, crumpling them up. You arrange the piece of wood and paper in such a way that you have a minute or two before the smoke really gets going. You pull out your lighter from the pocket of your jeans, start it, and then head back towards the camp, this time going around so you can approach it from the side. 

You keep your footsteps as light as possible while moving quickly. Once the man notices the smoke and leaves to scout it out, your timer starts. There's another whistle followed by a gravelly bark from the dog. You sneak close to the side of the fence, pausing behind a tree, just when you catch a glance of the stranger shucking a rifle over his shoulder and exiting out the gate. He shuts it behind him with a series of padlocks.

It won't take him long to find the source of the smoke and realize it's nothing, so you muster all your strength and begin climbing the fence, rusty links digging into your palms. You try to do it without making much noise, but the moment you jump down with a thud, the dog's head snaps in your direction. It begins to growl, flashing thick canines under its bloodied muzzle. You break out into a sprint toward the blue crates, but it crosses the span of the camp in mere seconds, clamping down on your forearm before you can even begin to look for the ammo.

The pain is white hot. You silently cry out as the dog shakes its head, tearing through the fabric of your coat and the tissue of your muscle. 

"Fuck."

You tug at your arm, but it doesn't let go. Remembering the piece of squirrel meat you brought as a snack, you dig it from your pocket and wag it in front of the dog's face.

"Come on, let go— please."

It's enough to catch his attention, the bite on your arm loosening once you toss the meat a few meters away and he follows it. You clutch your arm with a ragged breath, ignoring the blood and pain that radiates from it.

The squirrel can only distract him for so long, so you urgently flip open the lid of the first crate. Staring back at you is a mix of what appears to be severed limbs and various animal parts. The pungent smell floods up your nose. You instantly clamp the lid back down, fighting the urge to vomit, and move on to the next one. 

Ammo.

Plenty of it.

Without a second to waste, you sling off the backpack and begin stuffing it with the cardboard packs of cartridges, hoping it's the kind Ghost needs. When you tug the zipper closed, a decision pops into your brain: to keep looking through the other crates for medicine, or to get the fuck out of there. You take a millisecond too long to think about it because suddenly, you notice the dog from the corner of your eye, done with the meat and moving towards you with another throaty growl. 

You tug the heavy backpack on and make a beeline for the closest side of the fence. In the panic, you fail to notice the creak of the gate opening until you are stumbling into a hard chest. A strong hand wraps around your bicep.

Fuck.

He's back.

This is it, then.

"Rocky— sit."

The growling behind you ceases. A whole new fear washes over you as you blink up at a rugged face. The stranger uses his other hand to take hold of your jaw, hard enough that your teeth are forced to grind together. In a heart-pounding silence, he inspects you, bluntly looking you up and down. Then, he takes out a knife and presses it to your neck. Your throat bobs against the icy metal. 

"Fucking bitch," he mutters. "Start a fire to try and steal from me?"

"N-no!" Your brain reels for a lie. "No— I don't know what you're talking about. I-I came here looking for help."

"Try a better lie, sweetheart." 

"I mean it," you stammer, holding onto the fact that he hasn't slit your throat yet. Raw desperation speaks for you. "My… my friends are gone. Someone attacked us a few days ago and killed them. I've been alone ever since and then I found your camp, hoping someone would be here to help me."

This seems to grab his attention. Dark eyes narrow. It's now you realize he's quite young, maybe in his thirties.

"Someone attacked you, huh? Who?"

"Um, some guy. I don't know. I didn't get a good look at him because he was… he was wearing a mask."

"So some guy killed all your friends by himself?" When you slowly nod, cringing at your terrible story, his jaw flexes. "I've lost my friends, too. They went out on a hunting trip three days ago and haven't come back."

"Oh. I'm sorry," you lie, swallowing. "So you… so you believe me?"

"I believe your friends are dead. I don't believe you didn't start that fire to distract me."

His words make your heart race. Again, his eyes trail down, and the knife follows, lowering to the floral fabric of your blouse and popping open one of the buttons. 

"Take it off," he suddenly orders. 

"W-what?"

"The shirt. Take it off. Let me decide if I should kill you or keep you."

You put on a brave face and do as he says, not given much room to protest despite the sick feeling that twists your gut. You drop the backpack, half-inclined to swing it at him, but then what? There is no way you can take him in a fight, especially since he's armed with a knife and gun, and there is no Grey this time to help you out. 

The coat falls to the ground at your feet before you shakily undo the buttons of your blouse, wincing from the movement of your bitten arm. Crisp air greets your bare skin. Your nipples tighten uncomfortably and his gaze darts right to them, intensifying the churn in your stomach. 

He gives a low whistle. "Lucky me."

Your nails jab crescents into the palms of your hands. "Am I… am I worth keeping, then?"

He bears a sick, toothy smile. "Pretty for a thief," he confirms. "Haven't seen someone so pretty in a few years now." His eyes flash to your arm and he reaches to grab it, making you choke. "Hell, Rocky. You gave her an ugly bite, though. Might get in the way of what I have in mind for you."

Half-naked, you are dragged by the arm to one of the blue crates. He slips the knife into his pocket in order to search through it. You notice pills, liquids, and a single glass bottle of what appears to be clear alcohol, which he pulls out along with a cloth.

"Tell me your name," he says, forcing you to sit down on a folding chair. "Before I enjoy you.”

You tell him quietly.

With an eery gentleness, he sits across from you and dabs the bite with some alcohol. The sting is immeasurable, but you roll your eyes to the sky and silence yourself. The feel of his cold, calloused fingers makes you imagine how they would feel touching other parts of your body. You need to think of something quick before he gets the chance to. He still has the gun on him, and the only knife you brought is in the jacket on the ground. Your eyes flicker to the bottle, which he set down by the leg of his chair.

"What's your name?" you ask, looking back at him.

"Leo."

"So, um, Leo— how did you end up here?"

"I was a new recruit in the military when shit started five years ago," he explains idly, fixated on your arm. "Stationed at the base nearby."

"I saw medical tents there," you mutter, clearing your throat. "Did you help with that?"

He chuckles. "For all of a day until some buddies and I decided to take what we could and leave. There was no point in trying to help people. We figured that out pretty quick."

"Oh. Were those the buddies who haven't come back?" 

He nods. "I'm sure they're dead by now. But, one good thing is," he reaches for the gauze, sniggering lowly, "—that means I don't have to share you."

As he begins to unwrap the gauze, you decide he’s distracted enough. It happens in one, urgent motion. You clasp the alcohol bottle by the neck, arch it above his head, and thrust it down. The glass shatters, drenching him with alcohol and blood as a piece slices open his forehead. He immediately drops the gauze and hisses in pain.

"Bitch," he snarls. "I'm going to fucking kill you!"

He leaps to his feet and pulls the knife out again. As he does, you dig the lighter out of your pocket and ignite a flame, bringing it to his soaked shoulder. Instantly, fire flashes up his neck and face in hues of orange and blue, even catching your wet fingertips. It renders him blind as he howls and tries to swing at you, but you immediately run away, rubbing your burned hand against your jeans.

You grab your discarded clothes and backpack before flinging open the crate with medicine in it. You begin stuffing as many bottles into the side pockets of the backpack as you can, breathing frantically.

"I'm going to kill you," he seethes again, and the firing of a bullet somewhere behind you means he must have grabbed his rifle.

But he still can't see, his eyes blistered by the flames that continue to lick his face. Each shot bites the ground as you heave the backpack on your shoulders and take off toward the fence.

The dog barks, louder and louder as he runs after you. You don't look back. You wad your clothes up in a ball and toss them over the fence to free up your hands. Then, you quickly climb up, the muscles in your face tightly clenched as the full backpack weighs you down. 

You're too slow. 

Teeth grab hold of your boot.

You're pulled back down, hands spreading out to break the fall. 

In the mud, you wrestle beneath a snarling jaw, dirtying up your hair and exposed skin. This time, you don't hesitate to hurt the animal. You grab your lighter again and thrust the flame into the dog's eye, making it leap back with a pained squeal. 

Freed, you scramble back up the fence.

You leap down. Grab your clothes

You can still hear him shouting as you run away, weaving through the thicket of trees. Only when the sound fades do you stop to catch your breath, sinking down against a tree and putting your clothes back on.

"Here."

A moan of relief escapes your lips the moment you shrug off the backpack and drop it at Ghost's feet. He crouches down, swearing under his breath when he unzips it and the ammo practically spills out. He grabs a few boxes, opening and inspecting them under the violet light of sunset. The walk back took you hours longer. You were almost tempted to sleep in a tree for the night, but the threat of Greys or any more strangers kept you going. 

"Good. This is good, Twix." There's a hint of disbelief in his voice before he clears it away, zipping the backpack up. He stands and offers a lengthy look from your head to your boots. "How many were there?"

"Just one."

"Just one," he repeats, brow lifting. "And you look this roughed up. What happened?"

"There was a dog," you say dully, lifting your arm up to show him the bitemark in your sleeve. Beneath it, you already bandaged the wound, not wanting to draw attention to its scent. “Just a dog and a cannibal rapist guy."

"What?"

You shake your head. "Nothing. I'm going to sleep."

Before you can take a step past him, warm fingers latch onto your wrist. So warm. You inhale a breath, a burn of moisture lining your eyes.

“Please don’t touch me," you request in a harsher whisper than you intend.

You can no longer see the details of him with how bleary your eyes are, but you feel his touch disappear.

"What happened?" he asks again, voice lowering.

"Nothing. I got your ammo and I handled it. When can we leave?"

There is a pause before he responds as if he is debating whether or not to drop the subject. For now, he does.

"Tomorrow, hopefully."

"Good." The back of your hand smooths over your eyes. "Don't— don't forget our deal, Ghost. Promise me."

A firm nod. "I don't back out on my word."

As if to prove it, he shucks off the jacket and hands it over.

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #fanfiction #cod

[angelltheninth]

Batman, Red Hood, Nightwing, Beast Boy, Superman and Superboy + do they like it when their girlfriend is loud/vocal/moaning?

Half-half I'd say but allow me to elaborate.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Garfield Logan, Clark Kent, Conner Kent x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, moaning, being vocal, sensitive hearing, kissing

A/N: Me personally, if someone is screaming I will tell them to be quiet. Unless you're being stabbed there's no need to scream at me.

BRUCE

Wants you to tell him when he's making you feel good but he's not a fan of you being too loud. Moaning and whimpering is fine with him, not screaming though. If you scream he'll get the impression he hurt you somehow, which really doesn't go well with how much he's holding back sometimes.

JASON

The louder you get the better, the harder Jason's cock will get, the more he will fuck you. Until your voice stops working in fact and all you sounds you can make become whimpers and sighs. He is a bit of a sadist you see and he wants to dominate you when you offer yourself to him, but he always has tea and honey ready for after.

DICK

Moaning is more then fine with him, dirty talk too, a lot of dirty talk and praise gets him going really well. If you get too loud he will slow down a little, and then go right back to his earlier pace and thrust his cock inside of you real hard. He wants you to be loud only when he hits that special little spot inside you that will make you squirt.

GARFIELD

With a sensitive hearing you don't need to be loud with him but you can be more then vocal when it comes to voicing your likes and dislikes to him. Loud noises make him tense up. They hurt his ears and like his instinct demand he wants to silence it, which for him means hissing at the source and pawing at it.

CLARK

Backs up the moment you get too loud for his superhearing. It took him many years to learn how to block out extra sound and only focus on what's important in the moment, but unfortunately that source is too loud for him now. Don't think this means he doesn't like you moaning but he prefers the softer moans to the loud ones.

CONNER

Expected you to get loud when you're close to your orgasm but he didn't think you would be that loud. Kisses you to silence you because your pussy is too good to give up despite his ears ringing, he ain't no quitter as you well know by now. Would appreciate it though if you were a tiny bit quieter next time.

#dc comics x reader #bruce wayne x reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #garfield logan x reader #clark kent x reader #conner kent x reader #batman x reader #red hood x reader #nightwing x reader #beast boy x reader #superman x reader #superboy x reader #dc comics imagine #dc comics headcanons #dc comics smut #titans x reader #titans imagine #titans headcanons #titans smut #x female reader

[ravengards-rogue]

the evening stretch | warm-up series.

ft. the prompts, nsfw / "dinner" / arthur morgan.

✧ tags : afab!reader + fem!reader outdoors sex, oral (f!recieving), reader is an outlaw, established relationship, desperate arthur morgan, 18+

✧ wc : 2.7k

✧ a/n : hello! this is part of a little warm-up series i do on my other blog where i pick three prompts and try to come up with something. i normally do them in a rut. im working on a commission and im super stuck so.

this actually landed on javier four times in a row but im being kind and sparing a friend so. here's mr. morgan.

✧ synopsis : arthur thinks the place between your legs would suit him quite nicely.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

Honest to God, Arthur's never been like this before.

He ain't all that pious to start, so perhaps the sentiment doesn't stretch as far as he would like it too. But it's true, all the same - that in all the lives he's lived, he's never experienced this much bone-deep desire for another human being.

Which is outright ridiculous, since right now you're just making supper. Dinner, you always clarify with that yankee accent. You're going to have dinner together, 'cause Arthur needs to eat. He works hard, according to you.

It's not much, but you're a better cook than Pearson. Even if that's not saying a whole lot. And you're insistent on making the man eat, always on his case about how it's hardly enough for a man his size.

Arthur can chalk it up to being that you love him, as you have told him foolishly many times. He's sure you're not gonna be happy with him in a minute since again - all you're doing is making dinner.

It's just... something. Something about you today. Dammit, he doesn't understand it neither. You've got a job together, and you and Arthur play convincing husband and wife since you practically are anyway. Arthur's been watching you today closely. You lie pretty. Smile with all your teeth, clever with a careful finesse and an honest knack for debauchery and indecency.

You love calling yourself an awful woman. Joking about dying an unweddable spinster given your crudity.

But Arthur likes it in you. Of you. Likes it so much he's done nothing but readjust his pants watching you squirm your way out of every difficult situation and sling the revolver on your hip like a tried-and-true gunslinger.

You're a fine woman to him. A fine one.

The fire crackles as you place a pot over the little flame of the faux stove. You've made a real dinner somehow - with some vegetables and creeping thyme and carefully butchery of meat. It smells good and you seem proud of it, stirring the thing with the sharp end of your knife. Careful not to scrape the pot.

Arthur watches the light glow orange on your face, carefully observing the way it shines on you. You don't look up at all when you speak.

"Gonna stare a hole into me, Morgan."

He feels something warm crawl up his cheeks. He scratches his beard instinctively, tucking his hat over his eyes.

"'m sorry," He says, unsure of how to cover for himself. "Been thinking about some things."

"Don't hurt yourself," You reply, sardonic and dry. Arthur adores you. He laughs to himself and feels warmed by the pleasant smile that seems to give you.

"I'll try. Ain't much used to thinking,"

"Penny for your thoughts, then Mr. Morgan." You reply, carefully moving the pot around so nothing burns. "Might help you clear your mind if you get some of it off your chest."

He's backed himself into a wall. Goddamn him and his big mouth. He hesitates, taking it off this time. Fidgety.

"Yanno, there ain't a lot women like you. Not that I've met at least."

You give him a look. Your lips pressed into a flat line, unimpressed by him.

"Is that so?"

He laughs to himself. "It is indeed. You're a real piece of work. 'Specially going around batting your lashes, making yourself out to be a housewife."

"Aw what, did you like seeing me all doe eyed?" You smile to yourself, teasing but not entirely insincere. "If it helps, since you're the fake husband, I'm only half-acting."

That makes him grin. Though you say it with confidence, the sincerity it makes you flush.

"It ain't that," Arthur says again, looking at your face for the second time in a few minutes. "Just that you're a fine woman to be around. What do they call it...resourceful. That's what I'm thinking of."

"Who taught you such a big word, Morgan?"

"Trelawny, I'd guess."

You laugh, loud and beautiful and Arthur smiles. You look at him from across the fire. "Well, I'm glad you like my company, Mr. Morgan."

"I do more than like it," He hums, offering a reprieve. He nods at you carefully, head tilted. "Come 'ere,"

Your eyes widen at him, but you don't deny him of what he's asking. For that he is awfully grateful. You're more than capable and much less than needy. There's victory in your deliberate desire for him, Arthur thinks. You want him enough to let him chase you.

You come sit by Arthur. You're a little awkward with him still but he don't mind. It adds to whatever he feels for you, sugar-sweet affection and all. You sit on your knees and Arthur turns his head looking at you.

Beautiful. Beautiful thing you are, really. He has a hard time finding the words to tell you.

He reaches up, hand cupping your face. You lean into the touch, palm resting on calloused hand. He adores you.

"And quit with the Mister Morgan nonsense. Drives me crazy."

"Arthur," You say, slow and deliberate. "You know you're looking at me like you wanna eat me."

'"Read my mind, then."

"Arthur," You repeat, scandalized. He would smile if he wasn't so serious. "We're supposed to be eatin' dinner. You got into a whole spat with them Leymone Riders just today. You need to recover,"

His smile widens.

"Lettin' me go down on ya will heal me just fine,"

You look at him exasperated. Arthur leans into your neck, placing chaste kisses down the line of your jaw. He kisses you just there - underneath your earlobe, knows it drives you crazy.

"Lay down, sugar. Help a poor, injured man heal."

You pull away from him with faux exasperation, fond smiling breaking your face.

"You can be such a dog some times, do you know that?"

"I'm afraid I do,"

You give him another unimpressed look, but you listen anyways. Arthur moves so you can lay down on the bedroll - his bedroll. He takes off his coat just before you lay your head, playing it underneath you to get you more comfortable.

"Dinner's gonna burn," You tell him, almost reflexively. He laughs as he looks at you, your hands folded over your stomach and flat. He laughs at you.

"Burn? You feeling warm?"

"Arthur!"

And he laughs again, catching your boot in his hand as you go to kick his chest lightly. He sets it back down as he stares at you. You're quite the sight. Adoration bubbles up into his throat, blooms out into a hum. The sound of crickets and owls and all sorts of night wanderers sound - but none are distracting enough to pry his gaze away.

"You're looking too much," You say, your voice a half tremble. He nods.

"Got too," Arthur hums, leaning forward into your space. You always smell good to him, some cross between soft earth, and sweet liquor and clothes left in the sun. Skin and salt and sweet. "Who knows how long I'll be around."

He presses his lips to yours gentle and you kiss him - but only once before pulling away. Your eyes suddenly serious, warm palm on his cheek.

"Don't say something so morbid. If you go, I go,"

"Sweetheart—"

"No buts." You affirm, pressing your thumb to his lip all serious. Your eyes meet and for a moment - just one minute, all he wants to do is stop time from moving. From stealing him from you in life at all. Even a few seconds, intolerable. "Don't feel to good to hear, does it? So don't say it."

"Alright, alright," He huffs, laughing against your neck. He kisses it again, right against your pulse - quickening under his teeth as he bites and scrapes. He mulls over how much he wants you, and how little time there is to do everything. "Jus' lemme...I dunno."

Now you're cheeky, smiling up at him. Lord above, you do something so terrible to him. "Now that's just not true, baby."

He laughs deep and raspy. It's not true, because he knows exactly what he's after.

Arthur lets his hands plane over your clothed body. He doesn't bother with the ritual of undressing you entirely - since the act doesn't deserve the intimacy. You do, maybe - but Arthur's head feels too foggy to do anything civilized. He has to settle for letting his hands grip the fabric of your skirt and push it until it bunches around your waist.

There's no real delicacy in it, save for the way your breath hitches as Arthur gives himself better access. He moves to lay on his stomach between your thighs. He wishes it were brighter to give him better view. He's seen it plenty but looking at your pretty pussy alone gets him harder than steel.

His hands go underneath every layer of fabric to undo the little tie of your undergarments. You squirm when Arthur takes them off, but you don't pull away.

It's pretty. Even with the dim light of just the moon and fire to let Arthur see it. What entices him mostly though is the scent, after a long day of riding out alone - there's something about the way you smell - sweat and all that makes the back of his mouth ache with want. Makes his teeth hurt just dreaming about it.

He doesn't let his animalistic urges take him yet. He knows you need the build up. His hand is soft as he grips onto your waist. He pulls your legs further apart and lets his lips brush the inside of your thigh. Starts at your knee and works his way up, his mouth burning hot - open kisses. You giggle at the sensation of his beard, but it's tamped down with lust Arthur knows like the back of his hand.

Slow, deliberate, sinful. He knows the way you liked to be touched so exactly, but the pace is set more by his desperation. It grows ten sizes listening to you sigh and huff, feeling your hands come down to touch his hair and play with it.

"Arthur," Your voice calls. Pleading. Wanting him. You're so good at making Arthur loose his composure with so little. It's hard to tease you as your voice clips off into a whine. "Arthur,"

"I've got you," He says, assured. He means it as much as he means anything he's ever said. He ain't a decent man, but this much he can say full ways. "I've got you, sugar. Ease up. Let me take care of you,"

And so you again, breathless - boneless and eager. You let Arthur into your space, and something about that. Something about you. His heart races, blood pumping through his body. It pulses in his ears, head swimming with nothing but praise for you.

You're a fine woman. You're a good girl. The best he knows.

Arthur can feel the way your clit pulses with want before he ever puts his mouth on you. Makes him chuckle, gloved hand resting on your navel. He uses his thumb to pull it back, before using both hands to spread you open. Then, in an act less then gentlemanly, spits on it hard. He watches it land, lewd as it drips between your fold. He laughs to himself.

Another pitchy call of his name and Arthur decides he's had enough fun to get him through the evening.

He kisses your clit first, thinks it's only gentlemanly. When your hips buck up trying to chase the feeling of his mouth - he laughs. His hands dig into your hips. You're soft, skin dimpling from just how tight he holds onto you.

When he finally gets what he wants, his own body lurches forward from want. He nearly slumps into the ground - half-way between relieved and utterly addicted. It's a sense of euphoria unmatched by the finest liquor or cigars money can be.

The taste of you fills his mouth as Arthur eats.

Arthur is not used to playing predator. Not interested in the act of devouring. You often compare him to some sort of herbivore. But there's something too hungry, too visceral, too primal for him to be anything but a coyote. A teethed thing, all screwed up from hunger.

He lets his tongue slip against the seam of your cunt, all the arousal collecting in his mouth. His senses flood with something heady, sweet but bitter and he groans shamelessly as a result. Spoiled by the taste and utterly debauched.

"Oh, god - Arthur, you're—"

Arthur is pleased by the way your words are cut off by your own moan. He slides his tongue back up, wet muscle firm as it lays flat against your clit. There's a slight twitch like it's asking for more attention.

Arthur is all to eager vtoo provide, closing his lips around the twitching bundle of nerves. He knows what you like. Learned over time just the amount of pressure he needs to suck with and the speed he needs to draw his tongue over your clit to get you right at the very edge of your orgasm.

He teases you to that pace. Slow increases in either or, until it's just at that perfect medium. Once he hits that spot, you always moan so pretty.

You shudder, your body lurching up as your hands get tighter in his hair. "Aah, fuck. Ngh, Arthur. Don't do this t'me."

You begging him not too makes him want to do it more. If Arthur were any less aroused, he would. But his brain can barely think up enough to stamina to do that. His own cock is strained against his work pants - hips instinctively rutting into the bedroll just beneath him. Silently seeking friction all while hoping he doesn't get enough to distract him.

It'd be a damn shame, he thinks - letting anything pull him from the taste of your pussy. From the smell of it, from the sight of it, from the feeling of you. Sticky, pulsing strings of arousal coating his tongue and turning all his thoughts to dust.

His cock throbs again as you rut against his mouth. Arthur pins you in place.

"Please," You say. A magic word he ain't much stronger than. "Please make me cum,"

You really are a good girl, the way you know exactly what makes him tick. Arthur moans into your cunt as he sucks and licks and eats. He'd die over it, and he does not mean it lightly. It's the only thing in the world he wants to do in the moment. He laser focuses on finding that sweet spot again.

And he knows he does when you start whimpering. Squirming and holding onto his soft brown locks and pleading for something you don't know about. He can feel how wet your getting - dripping along down his beard and face. Thick strings of your arousal stick and slide down his neck.

He's never been a messy eater, but you've been disproving many of his prior understandings of himself. He supposes it's only natural.

"Oh, baby," You say, not even his name. Arthur knows it's a warning that you're gonna cum. All he can do is encourage you. He hums into your soft, wet cunt and you groan again. "Fuck, Arthur. I'm gonna cum."

Arthur knows better. He doesn't do a thing but keep going. Lets you move and thrash and pull away but keeps you firm in his place and eats your pussy until you can barely think.

He knows the knot is untying before you do because of how much you squirm. When you cum, you cum hard. Your back arches up into a picture perfect curve, toes curling and hands tugging at his roots for purchase.

He can feel every pulse of desire as you finally do let go. You cry out, loud enough to startle any nearby critters. Your fingers grip tight at the base of his hair as the orgasm washes over you. It's just as magnetic as it was the first time.

He's sure that will always be true.

When Arthur pulls away from your pulsing, wet core - he can feel just how much of his lower face is sticky. He's sure you also know, if the way you laugh is anything to go by.

And he's not long to follow after. Not even a few seconds and he can feel something in pants tighten - a mess of white staining the front of the denim in an onset of lust damn near shameful. Is he a teenager again? Lord above.

Breathlessly, you look down at him after you've ridden your high out.

Pulling up Arthur by the collar, you look at him slowly and frown. You look impassioned and a little frustrated.

You kiss him tender after you've come too. Once, then twice, then a another time with your hand still drawn into a fist. Arthur grabs it closed, opening your palms before kissing the palm of your hands until you're no longer mad.

"Hate how good you are at that," You admit, a little drunk of the euphoria of all of it. "Make me feel so crazy."

Arthur beams at you unapologetic.

"It's good to be that with me, sweetheart." Arthur says, kissing the corner of your mouth. "Now how about you go and give me one more?"

You laugh breathlessly but don't go to stop him at all.

"Insatiable man."

"Only for you, my girl."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

#arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan smut #rdr2 smut #rogues love letters #zero.arthur #this is OUTRAGEOUS. I WAS WARMING UP??? #i need to sleep its nearly 8. jesus christ.

[jinnie-ret]

skz with a 9th member who grew up in england so sometimes they use slang they dont understand or sometimes their british accent gets really strong when theyre tired or drunk and the boys think its funny.

it's a brit thing

stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)

genre: fluff

content warnings: swearing, alcohol mentions

word count: 1.2k

summary: the boys find it hard to understand their british member a lot of the time...

Hi! Sorry for such a late response to your ask! Loved writing this one! Love to my fellow British Stays. Also I love a Yorkshire accent, just putting that out there haha...

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

aka five times the real brit in y/n appeared

1) tired

You were tired, so tired. After a long flight back from LA to Seoul, all you wanted to do was get back to the dorms and go to sleep. Just simply get out of the airport, get into the cars, and listen to some music before ultimately entering a calm, unconscious state.

Yet with the experience of the paparazzi and screaming fans awaiting you, your plans were ruined. They swarmed you, and even as you formed your usual chain amongst the rest of the members and your security it didn't stop the flash of the cameras blaring in your face and fans getting too handsy.

Other times it would overwhelm you but this time it was just annoying. You would say you were just agitated, but the boys thought you were grumpy.

"Oh no, she's grumpy," Seungmin teased from beside you as you squeezed into the back between him and Changbin.

"Fucking twats the lot of them," you grunted in English, digging through your backpack for your airpods as your northern British accent came out.

"That wasn't Korean but I'm not entirely sure that was English either..." Changbin said with wide eyes, only vaguely recognising the swear word and nothing else.

"Chan can you translate?" Jeongin asked curiously, watching as you entered a calmer state when you started playing music.

"Basically she's annoyed at the paps and fans," Chan laughed after translating what you said.

"T-twateu?" Jeongin tested out, and your music just happened to go silent before changing to the next song, meaning you heard what he said.

"You what?!?"

2) vlive

It was time for your bimonthly vlive, which Stays managed to guess when you'd go live, getting used to your system of interacting with them.

"There aren't really a lot of British idols out there, are there?" you chatted with the fans, face near the screen as your eyes squinted to read the comments, forgetting to wear your glasses.

"Haha! Yes Han is our honorary British member," you laughed as you read the comments, hand going over your mouth.

"Wait doesn't Jennie from Blackpink speak with a British accent?" you double checked you theory with the fans, letting out a successful cheer when they confirmed your thoughts.

"Yes!!! Up the Brits! There are too many Aussies I swear..."

"Teach us some British phrases? Okay hmmm, what can I teach my Stays?" you wondered, tapping your chin comically.

"You can say 'I'm gutted', which means you're really upset about something, like you're so sad you feel it in your gut. Or, 'I'm knackered', which means you're tired. Or you're 'pissed off', which means you're angry," you explained to the Stays, frowning when they started saying you sweared on vlive, the staff now staring at you awkwardly.

"Ani, ani, no, no," you pointed to the camera, fake scolding the fans, "I don't think it's swearing, right?"

3) drunk

You and the boys had been out drinking, celebrating the promotions for Case 143. And let's just say, you had a few too many, at least you weren't the only one.

"I'm fucking hammered mate," you slurred, stumbling into Minho who wrinkled his nose at your alcohol breath as all 8 of you walked home from the bar.

"Hammered?" Han asked curiously, his doe eyes somehow more apparent in his intoxicated state.

"Like tkk tkk?" Hyunjin tested, pretending to hammer a nail as he recognised the tool name.

"I'm trollied, I'm so out of it, mate," you giggled, facepalming yourself, well, you thought you did and then realised you accidentally smacked Felix in the face, collapsing on the ground in a fit of giggles.

"Y/Nnie, get uppppp," Felix groaned, rubbing his face drunkenly as he tried to pull you up.

"She's speaking nonsense," Jeongin said with wide eyes.

"Not until you can understand me," you poked Felix in the chest with each word.

"Yah, you're so touchy tonight, Y/N," Changbin laughed at your slow yet somehow affectionate movements as he and Chan lifted you up, you clinging onto their arms for balance.

"That makes me sound so noncey," it was your turn to wrinkle your nose.

"No one can understand you right now, and we are fluent in English," Chan laughed as he supported most of your weight and gestured to Felix next to him.

"I'm too wankered," you groan, now feeling the headache set in and just wanting to be in bed.

"Woah, what did she say?" Seungmin pulled a confused face, his features scrunching up.

"She's uncontrollable," Minho said bemusedly.

4) school memories

In a new episode of SKZ Code, they were all back to school, dressed in different school uniforms.

"Why is Y/N's uniform so different?" Han pointed out.

"It's cute, though," Hyunjin cooed.

"This is what we'd wear," you do a cute spin in your dark green checkered dress, white socks, dolly shoes and bows in your hair. Of course, you wore a green cardigan with it, representing the colour of the uniform designated by your primary school.

Then you went onto other school experiences, and the boys were interested to hear about how yours differed.

"And then, around Easter time, we'd sing a song like this. 'One mother hen sat on four little eggs'," you began singing, doing actions alongside that you remember being taught by your teachers.

"'Keeping them warm in her little egg nest, then one day she heard a crack!'" you widened your eyes as you mimicked the egg cracking with your hands, the boys giggled at this.

"'And a little voice said as the egg was hatched... I'm a spring chicken! I'm yellow and small...'" you sang the song, the mood becoming more joyful as the boys clapped in time for you and you stood doing the actions.

"'Chicken, I'm a chicken! And I'm having a ball!'" you excitedly finished, a big grin present on your face as you flapped your 'wings'.

"Wahh, that's too cute, surely?" Changbin thought it was adorable, copying the last line.

"Maybe Y/N should replace Bbokari!" Lee Know smirked.

"No!" Felix yelled out laughing, hand over his heart.

You carried on reflecting on your experiences.

"Or at our schools we'd be sorted into different coloured houses," you informed everyone.

"Harry Potter! Harry Potter!" Seungmin cheered.

"Woah, so you went to Hogwarts?" Jeongin gasped, a playful look on his face.

"No, I was in yellow house," you I formed, folding your arms.

"Hufflepuff!" Chan pointed at you.

"Noooo," you shook your head, gosh, how did you deal with them on a daily basis?

5) accent

Y/N was on the phone, talking to her friends from back home.

"The British accent really is... woah," Felix whispered to Hyunjin who nodded.

"So pretty," he added on.

"It's kinda, sexy?" Han wiggled his eyebrows, trying to copy what you were saying.

Ah yes, the Y/N simp line, back at it again.

This was all caught on a SKZ talker, and British stays had a field day with it in the comments.

Why is it so funny that the boys think a broad Yorkshire accent is sexy

The boys think it sounds pretty? I'm flying to Seoul rn brb or maybe not

I just googled how to be Y/N

Y/N got bitches but no one here notices me and we literally sound the same lmao, tough times

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain

#skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #skz x reader #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fic #stray kids imagines #skz ninth imagines #skz ninth #skz ninth member imagines #skz ninth member #stray kids ninth #stray kids ninth member #skz 9th member #stray kids 9th member

[freimeka]

am i the only one who's about to explode by thinking of a bodyguard ghost??? like he's... extremely on another level please help me !! i actually hate this and might delete this pls forgive any mistakes ans typos it's 3am . i feel like i forgot some tws and tags but oh well idc

★ obv bodyguard!ghost + pwp + just unholy thoughts + descriptions of masturbating + very brief mention of idk just a heated argument + ghost is kinda voyeur here

You have no idea how the two of you ended up like this. You clearly remember that you were screaming at Ghost's face. The reason was something completely dumb...like, he probably insulted one of your friends and you just exploded. You've been feeling on the edge because of him for the last week now—you cannot even count the times that your hand, completely out of your control, has traveled down on your body once you were alone to touch yourself.

As you think of him.

That fucker.

Ghost can easily get under your skin without even trying, it's like a love-hate relationship. You've known him for many long years—he has always been right there, next to you whenever you turn your head around to see him. He's protected you, spoiled you maybe even more than your parents did. Well, there have also been countless times that he annoyed you so much that you just wanted to slap him across his face but you just let them pass. You're used to Ghost, and he's used to you.

You should be mad at him now, your body should be on fire just by how angry you're at him but... your hand keeps traveling down on your body. You get comfortable on your bed, letting your body meet with the soft mattress as your legs immediately spread apart as if on autopilot mode. One of your hands easily travels underneath your shirt to touch your perked nipples, your fingertips pinching them just to feel a bit more. Your other hand slips past your soaked panties, and you realize that you're embarrassingly wet—with every move of your fingers you can hear a slick sound that's faint, yet loud enough to echo in your empty room.

You throw your head back when your trembling fingers start to rub circles against your clit, gathering the wetness and spreading it all over to make it easier for you to move your fingers in circles. Your eyes are shut, and you feel yourself taking short and erratic breaths as your fingers keep rubbing circles. No matter how you do or what you do, the mere idea of being stretched by Ghost's cock just doesn't leave your mind. Your fingers don't feel thick enough, they don't reach the parts that you want them to reach—and that's getting frustrating. You're usually so careful about being quiet in order not to get caught, but the feeling is overwhelming; you think that you might cry. That's why a soft, yet a bit louder than ever whine falls from your lips. You don't think that it's dangerous because everyone except Ghost is outside, your parents work long hours and that's why Ghost has become a babysitter as well as a bodyguard—that's what he says, but you know that he's trying to annoy you.

Since you two have argued like fifteen minutes ago, and his mad and hoarse voice somehow made you wet, Ghost must be outside on the balcony. He's probably smoking.

Right?

You feel your bed being crushed down under someone else's weight, and you want to open your eyes but the scent is all too familiar. And you feel like you're about to explode from embarrassment. Ghost rests his hands on your bare thighs, his fingers grazing the soft skin with such gentleness that you struggle to hold back a whimper. It's a small touch— it's obvious that he's testing the waters first.

"You're making it hard to be around you," you hear him whispering, his voice is dangerously low. You finally decide to open your eyes, to see him without his damn mask and he's already looking up at you. However, he breaks the eye contact as soon as you look back at him—he's now looking at your thighs, his lips touch your inner thigh as he speaks. "But you're also making it hard not to be around you."

You can't believe he's admitting it.

"Please—Ghost, I—," you barely whisper, your voice is shaky as your fingertips burn to feel Ghost's soft hair. "I'm... I just," it's impossible for you to explain yourself, but then again you don't have to do it since everything's pretty clear. Ghost is breathing so heavily against the skin of your inner thigh, and he's not done—for fuck's sakez he's not even started yet. Ghost's hands skillfully reach down to your sides, and he drags you against him to make you feel just how much he wants you. You hear the sounds of fabric as your body is pulled down on the bed, you're almost at the edge of the bed now while Ghost is kneeling down in front of you. He doesn't speak for a while, and you feel yourself get even more stressed. It's obvious that he has no problems with what you've been doing, but damn it, say something.

"You're perfect," he hisses, he sounds almost out of breath as he whispers against your skin. You feel him pulling your panties up, letting the already soaked fabric cover your wet pussy again. "You're so perfect."

And that's probably all you need to hear, you're way too gone, too overwhelmed to care about the consequences. You can worry about them later, but you know that this is mutual, and he wants you as much as you want him. He kisses you, it's a gentle peck on the lips first. But then, he gets harder and harder, pushing you back against the bed and holding onto your hips tighter— and you realize that he's making you think about only how badly you want him inside you. The way his big, calloused hands are touching your bare thighs, the way his kisses are getting more and more intense... He's getting you to feel hot enough to make you melt in his presence.

"I was waiting for the fun part to come," he breathes out, "But you take damn too long."

There's a moment of silence.

"I can help you with that."

You make a sound like a whine, like a soft cry of pleasure—all of those anxious thoughts that say you've embarrassed yourself are gone in a minute. Your body aches, you can feel your heartbeat getting faster just by the thought of Ghost finally filling you up to the brim.

He leans in, his broad shoulders are enough to make you disappear under his body as he presses his lips against yours desperately. There's something almost feral in the way he kisses you, as if he's even more impatient than you are. As if he's been waiting for this to happen for a long time.

Ghost's breath grows more and more desperate as the two of you kiss; his tongue licking into your mouth as your teeth bite into his bottom lip, your bodies are pressed against each other as much as they can. The feeling of him rubbing circles against your clit through the fabric of your panties drives you crazy and you feel your breath being stolen from your lungs. You need to feel him, somehow; it doesn't matter if he pushes his fingers or decides that he can pound into you, you just need him. Not through the damn panties, you need to get rid of them.

He's kissing you fiercely now, his tongue tasting your lips and then sliding inside your mouth greedily. His hands are working on your trembling body, touching your pussy through the fabric; you feel like crying, he should take it off.

"This feels so good," Ghost says, his voice is deep and it feels like he's speaking in your head. "Doesn't it? Don't you think that I can do a better job of filling up that cunt?" Ghost asks, and you know that he's taunting you—but you can't stay under that now, can you?

"Take them off," you breathlessly whimper, it's something like both a beg and a demand—Ghost can take whatever suits him. "Please, just take them off."

Ghost lets out a groan, and it's clear that hearing what you just ask him to do is driving him insane. If he was desperate to kiss you before, he's desperate to make you bury your face into the damn pillow and pound into you until your pussy remembers the shape of his dick.

"You're so wet," he chuckles deep in his throat, staring down at you for a moment as if he's trying to gather himself before he gives you what you want.

"I should keep your panties with me, you know," he lets out a deep sigh as his fingers hook around your panties and pull them down slowly but surely. As he keeps talking to you, his voice lowers. "You're not the only desperate one here."

He finally pushes a finger in, letting your walls stretch slightly to the feeling of his thick index finger—but you still feel like that's not thick enough. You're greedy when it comes to him. Your moans turn into whines as he adds the second, and the thirs finger without any prior warning. He's moving his hand quite fast now, causing your legs to tremble as your fingers wrap around his thick biceps—all you can do is cry out, whines and whimpers and string of curses fall from your lips as Ghost toys with you. Your body tenses up when his hand starts to move a bit faster, his fingers curling inside you until he finds a spot that will have you begging for more. He succeeds, and it causes your walls to get tighter around his fingers.

"Do that again for me," he mumbles against your mouth, breathlessly. "Do that again for me when I'm inside you, baby."

"It would be such a disgrace if I never tried to make you feel good," he whispers. His breath is hot against your neck. "But look at you... what happened to that fierce girl? All I'm seeing is an obedient little girl, my sweet girl, who's already getting dumb without being filled up properly."

"Oh, I hate you," you reply, your voice is low and filled with desperation as you wet your lips with your tongue. The more Ghost makes you wait, the more you feel like crying.

"Of course, you do," he replies, his voice is full of sarcasm. "That's why you're dying to get your pussy filled by me, correct? You're lucky that you're not the only one who does this," as Ghost speaks, you feel him moving around—and soon after the sound of his belt coming undone is heard. He doesn't even bother to get rid of his clothes properly, he just pushes his trousers down before he pushes your shirt above just a bit to indicate that he wants you to take it off.

Who are you to say no?

Your trembling fingers grab the hem of your t-shirt and you take it off with one swift motion, letting the piece of clothing fall to the floor.

You're way beyond gone at this point, your mind is empty, so no words come out from your mouth. You feel Ghost pulling you closer to himself on the bed. He's resting his knees on the edge of the bed as leverage while holding you by your thighs and making you spread your legs as much as you can. He's always wanted to touch you, fill you up, and the way you're looking at him through your heavy-lidded eyes is making it even harder for him to resist you.

"You know," he murmurs, "I would imagine us all over the place— my room, the backseat of cars or a damn parking lot, some closet, bending you over any surface that I find as soon as we step back in the house." His voice is thick with lust, it's like he's ready to devour you, consume you until there's nothing left of you. "I imagined you in my lap, your legs open for me, and..."

Ghost doesn't finish his sentence and instead, he finally gives you what you've been craving all along. He's big and thick, and the moment you feel the tip of his cock pushing inside you let out a soft yelp—Ghost is slow until he's fully in you, and just as you think that he'll give you some time to adjust to his size, he mercilessly thrusting. Sharp and powerful, almost abusing your cunt as his big hands spread your pussy even more just for his hungry gaze.

"I always felt like I was going to explode." You can hear him grunting, letting out low and deep sounds of pleasure as he mercilessly fucks into you. Your body moves up and down on the bed, putting on a show for Ghost that'll just drive him insane with how you look. He leans in, and his tongue licks hot stripes all over your chest before he takes one of your nipples in his mouth. His tongue flicks around it, his teeth gently and teasingly bite into it just to see your reaction. Every time you're slightly overwhelmed and sensitive, your walls clamp around his cock, making Ghost let out a string of curses as his grip on you tightens more and more.

He wraps his arms around your waist, gently rolling over to let you lie on top of him—his body presses into the mattress. You find yourself sitting on top of his body, his arms wrapped around you and his face in between your breasts. "Ride me," he whispers. "I wanna come inside you like this," and he's so, so cruel—how can he talk to you like that when he knows you're so, so, so sensitive. You whine, your arms tightly wrap around his neck as you start to do as you're told; but you're so close, so, so, so close that your movements become sloppier and messier.

"Can't," you gulp. "I can't, Ghost—," your words are breathless and low, your vision is blurry as you come all over his cock without even having the chance of letting him know. But that's Ghost, and Ghost knows you very well. He knows you better than you know yourself. "Yes, sweetheart," he whispers against your chest. "Go ahead, show me how you do it. I promise I'll make you feel even better than this."

#cod mw smut #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost riley #simon riley smut #ghost riley smut

[brisquad-unit-4402]

Hey! If possible, could you write doppio dropscythe x reader dating headcanons? Maybe the reader is also a vtuber in nijisanji rn, but it’s a secret from the internet?

i had this draft since the cheftective era and haven’t touched it in a few months, i’m not so sure why, especially since it was almost done... if it seems dated then that's why. thank you for your patience anon, i loved writing for doppio! he's very difficult but very fun!

tags: established relationship, fluff, gender neutral reader, lore compliant, reader is a vtuber, reader is an xsoleil student, secret relationship/getting caught, pet names

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

🐣 Doppio Dropscythe

It's funny, because at a first glance, Doppio seems like the type of guy that takes what he wants. He's never shied away from who he is and wears his heart on his sleeve; one of the many reasons you fell for him.

But he doesn't. You collab often with him and you can tell there's something unsaid between you two, or something more underneath the surface-level entertainment. Something that goes beyond the audience's heads.

It's not quite a certainty but you're convinced you need to do something. It's just that as streamers, especially streamers that work under a corporation, you want to know exactly what to do.

You end up talking to Ver for advice. As the President of Xsoleil, he's a good listener, especially since you know how close he and Doppio are. He wouldn't dare judge you when his friend's own feelings are on the line as well as yours.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You enter the Xsoleil student council office. As expected, Ver swivels around in a big leather office chair that makes him look more imposing than his dorky-sweet-tooth personality ever could. "Reader, it's good to see you. I liked your stream last Friday. How can I help you?"

"Nothing business. I'm here to ask about Doppio."

At the mention of his name Ver leans back in his chair, and you tense. You explain yourself: how lucky you are to work with him, how wonderful of a man he is, and how much you care about him. It spills out of you like water in a strainer. You've kept your feelings bottled up for so long, and Ver has such an accepting energy that makes you want to uncover everything you've been hiding. After all, if anyone could give you approval and advice on your feelings about Doppio, it would be the president himself.

By the time you finish, however, he seems far less surprised than you expected. "You should tell him."

"But what if-"

"Just do it." He presses his fingers between his eyes like he's alleviating a headache. "Trust me on this one. Please. Hopefully if you do so within the next week, Meloco's earnings from the betting pool will go back into our funding."

Somehow, that doesn't surprise you, and you're too happy they approve to get frustrated. You request Ver's blessing. He obliges. "Not that you need it. We're just happy there's someone out there for him." Ver's eyes glint. "Treat him right. If you don't, I'll be very disappointed. And Kotoka will start a smear campaign on Instagram."

"Duly noted, Kaichou."

"And he'd be sad."

"Can you trust me too?" You ask. Ver nods. "That's the last thing I want to do. If we're going to do this, I want to make sure I give him everything he deserves."

"Good answer." He smiles, like everything's fallen into place. "I meant what I said, you didn't need my blessing, but you definitely have it now."

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

When you finally muster up the courage to ask Doppio out, it's like he forgets to talk. In fact, he does. He sputters out happy noises that don't even make up sentences for a solid minute before he remembers how to say "yes."

Doppio makes a lot of noises even when he does know how to talk, and it might be one of the most endearing things about him. You've lovingly started calling them Doppi-noises simply because no one reacts quite like how Doppi reacts. He’s so silly and there isn’t a single word in the English language to describe how silly he is.

He even talks to inanimate objects sometimes when he's alone. It's not much different from how he talks in front of others, but his voice is lower and gentler, and when he realizes you could hear him thank his oven for preheating and the mixing bowls for not spilling ingredients, he spouts out a flustered Doppi-noise with averted eyes and red along his face.

Hanging out with your boyfriend is never boring. He brings so much energy wherever he goes that anything becomes a story, including seemingly mundane things like studying.

Whenever you go grocery shopping he somehow always remembers that one thing you mentioned a few days ago that you wanted to buy but didn't put on the list, and buys it with his own money to give to you, but he doesn't remember to get his own stuff sometimes??

The amount of times Doppio bought you a snack or found a good deal on a candy you've been craving, but forgot to buy hand soap... he usually runs by himself to the store, grabs whatever he forgot, and then comes back to your door nearly out of breath.

Doppio always makes you laugh. He's so goofy when he tries to be, and so earnest when he's serious that his charm is never lost on you. He likes to make you smile.

On the days when your lives as Xsoleil students and streamers get too busy to pay attention to one another, you tend to watch his VODs while you work, and you can pretend like it's just another domestic day where you both tend to your own chores while still enjoying shared company.

You take a fifteen-minute break to reset your brain from working so hard, and you hear Doppio on stream offhandedly mention something with a giggle, and you cackle when you realize it's an inside joke you both share. Then you notice no one in chat even pays attention to what he just said, and you laugh out loud even more. Even when you're apart, he's still thinking about you. He's loyal to a fault.

To this day Doppio still tweets his nonsensical ramblings. But sometimes you reply to them like you understand exactly what he's trying to say! You roll with his humor so well and so quickly after he tweets sometimes, that not only are your fans totally surprised you can comprehend him, but some of your other coworkers in Nijisanji have to ask you to translate what he's saying.

Confession incoming: most of the time you don't understand entirely. But when he checks Twitter and notices the reply from you, his face lights up, and rolling with it makes him bright as a sunbeam. To be fair, you get a lot of his jokes that no one else does. You know how to quip with him and he appreciates it a lot.

Doppio's energy is always infectious, but only so intense when he wants to be. He's always uniquely himself, but he can chill out, and he appreciates when he can. The D in Doppio Dropscythe stands for Downtime!

The whole chuuni thing isn't an act—that's just how he is—but sometimes it's nice when he doesn't need to constantly proclaim his position as the Duke of Discipline. Sometimes it's nice to know he can come home to his Devoted that already knows he's the greatest cheftective out there no matter what he does.

By the way, when you're alone by yourselves, he calls you his Devoted. You think it's so dramatic for the little moments and he thinks it's a bit embarrassing, but neither of you have figured out another word for "lover" that starts with a D, so, Devoted it is.

(Meanwhile you call him Doppippi. Not so chuuni, and you don’t call him that regularly—too mushy—but you swear his face gets a little more colorful whenever you call him by that name.)

It nearly drives you insane how cute Doppio can be. Here he is, one of the tallest and fittest people you know, with piercings and eyeliner and messy hair, and pointed eyes that scream punk rock energy—but he coos at any animal he sees and sticks out his tongue a little whenever he's concentrating on a game, and he turns pink as your hand brushes against the inside of his wrist.

But at the same time, he's still such a badass that you can't resist him. He likes to mess around and tease you, and he knows how to use his appeal to his advantage. It’s no secret he has a sadistic streak, either.

It’s the best of both worlds. He’s so hardcore that it makes the gap moe even more effective when he decides to be cute, and when he's soft and silly it just serves as even harder whiplash when he acts cool.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You entered Doppio's streaming room with a glass of water and a light snack, and exchanged a few words while Doppio was typing out a before-stream message on his waiting screen.

So how did you get here, a finger wired under his collar to bring him closer, his hands eager as they clutch around the shirt on your back?

You kiss him, hungry and stupid, drawn to his magnetism. His teeth are pointed. They leave imprints on your tempted mouth, dragging magma over your thoughts, the blind come-ons that dusted over what makes sense. The stream should be starting soon but you can’t find it in yourself to resist.

Steam rises where Doppio hangs his tongue along yours, and so do his hands, large palms rubbing up your back and fingers on your shoulders. You’ve learned that he purrs when pleased; a soft, soothed groan pours from the corners of curved lips. Like an engine muffled by your connection.

You readjust, parting just enough to speak, though your words bounce back into his mouth. “You should prepare for the stream.”

“Done.” He holds you along your neck next, ready to go another round.

“Your Scythekicks are going to get lonely.”

“But I don’t wanna stop kissing you.”

“I don’t want to either,” you say. “I mean, you can always delay by fifteen.”

“I’ll send the message in chat, ‘kay?”

Even though the keyboard is just inches away, Doppio still brings you in with a loose arm around your shoulder and neck. Your forehead presses up to his cheek, not quite a hug but just as casually intimate. He removes his arm when he places a quick smooch to your temple.

By now all of Xsoleil’s vtuber talents are pros at sending delay messages and Doppio is no exception. The keys clack along in a steady cadence, until the tapping patters out, slowly and surely, with gaps of space between every keystroke.

It’s comedic like everything Doppio does whether he knows it or not. One final key sounds out before your boyfriend folds his hands over his mouth, and lets out a tiny “Huh?”

He stares at the screen. It’s strange to see him this motionless. You’re not too concerned, until you watch his head sink into his hands. “Er, Doppippi? You alright?”

Doppio buries his head a little bit further. It muffles him as he softly chants. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no.”

“What’s the matter?”

“No no no no no no no no noooo.”

"Did something happen?" You pat his head comfortingly, before looking back up at the screen, where he was typing into chat. "It usually isn't this difficult for you to send a message..."

Metamrph: HELLO??

sola: TSKR

🐣 AikosVoid: READER AND DOPPIO

AKENJIV: no way taht jsut happened imgcrying

eurelin mystic: SHIP CONFIRMED 💖💖💖

rin: WHAT DID I MISS IM LATE

~tiaramiisu~: should i give u kids some privacy lol

in-d4krness: READER HAS MAIDENS

"...Ah."

Doppio groans. You wish you could groan too, but your throat goes too dry to make a sound. The floor can't swallow you up fast enough.

"Um, I, uhhh," you say eloquently. "S-surprise?"

You've never seen the chat go this fast for so long. You can barely read individual messages before they speed away to make room for new ones.

messXed-up!: CLIPPERS GET YOUR CAMERAS

kierri: doppippi is such a cute pet name help

AKENJIV: this is crazy

sola: AAAAAAA

lunasmortas: CONGRATS 💜💜💜

A normal broom: are reader and pio dating???

You nearly choke on your spit despite the moisture leaving your mouth. "Dating?"

By now, Doppio flopped down in his chair so much that he's flat against the desk. Even though embarrassment crawls down your back, your hand rubs his head and shoulders as reassurance while you continue. "Maybe we should've announced that we were dating sooner."

At that Doppio launches straight up in his seat like a bamboo shoot. "Yeah, but I wanted to do a special stream for it, and take viewers' questions and give bad love advice and have a column name like Doppi's Dreamy Passionland and then announce that we're together at the end!" His eyes squeeze shut as he spits out his thoughts, pink washing over his cheeks the more he talks. "But-but-but what's the point of the Scythekicks knowing I have rizz if they can tell I'm not a whiz?"

You know the blood is rushing to your head too, but even now, your shoulders raise as you giggle. "You know our fans would be supportive whether you had a stream or not."

"But the contenttttt," he whines. He blinks to life with a pout and puppyish eyes, a sign that he's being dramatic for the sake of being dramatic. There's no hiding the fact that you're both mortified, but at least you know just as well as he does that he'll bounce back.

"Content later, whatever this is, now." You sheepishly look back at the screen. "Um, thanks for coming, everyone. How about, uh, Doppio and I take a thirty minute delay and we'll get back to you if the stream is still on the agenda."

You don't wait for any answers before you finish Doppio's half-written delay message, pin it to chat, and make triple-sure that the mic is muted this time.

Doppio rests his cheek on his palm, squishing his blush. "I could've done the stream, you know."

"Okay, but do you really want to after that fiasco?"

He averts his eyes, then relinquishes. "...Touché."

"Thought so," you say. "So what do you want to do now?"

"Nothing." Doppio slumps over and places his head on your shoulder, too exhausted to wrap his arms around you even though he leans into the fabric of your shirt and the body heat underneath it. "Let's just not do nothing."

So you take the initiative instead, and hold him properly, letting him sink like a weighted blanket. "You know, that was embarrassing, but if I can say? I'm glad they know we're an item."

He rests in the crook of your neck, letting you envelop him while tired hands lay on your back. "About time they figure out I'm yours." Your scent fills his nose and warms his blush, and even though he thought he was at his weakest on stream, he still finds his reservations breaking down as you let him be vulnerable, just for this moment. "But can't you be mine? Just for now."

You hug him tighter. "Always."

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi

#doppio dropscythe #doppio dropscythe x reader #doppio dropscythe headcanons #xsoleil x reader #xsoleil #nijisanji en #nijisanji x reader #doppio dropscythe fluff #xsoleil headcanons #xsoleil imagines #xsoleil fluff #4402 writes #4402 answers #shoutout to my friend for coming in clutch with an idea on how to end this. girl u don't realize the same sentence has been kicking my ass- #-for 7 months straight. quite literally. #also btw is v3r still a dorky cutie or did he change his image? haven't seen one of his solo streams in a while

[devilish-mirage]

Cute

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader

Summary; A boring night at the inventory with Steven somehow turned into a rather interesting row of events when you discovered just how easily flustered your co-worker really is.

Tags; Reader loved to tease Steven, idiots in love, mutual pining (sort of), suggestive theme, fluff, fluff, fluffy goodness!, Subby Steven and Dom Reader vibes, Marc and Jake as Steven best wingman, Donna cockblocking us, this fic used a lot of cheesy pick up lines

Word count; 2,4k

A/n; thank u as always for translating the Spanish sentences, bebé <3 @friendlyneighbourhood-parker

Masterlist

You huffed tiredly, silently celebrating when you scanned the last item in the box but then you caught the sight of another box not too far away from you, the box was full with unscanned items making you groaned in annoyance.

You sighed, deciding to take a quick break from that nauseous repeated motion. Propping your chin in the palm of your right hand, you shifted your eye sight to your co-worker who shared your unfortunate fate, Steven Grant who sit just a few feet away from you on another desk full of unscanned items.

The man's eyebrows furrowed every now and then when the old scanner doesn't work, you cringed when he dropped an item down, you saw him muttered something underneath his breath and picked the item back up.

He always come with messy hair and wrinkled mismatched shirt, today is no exceptions, as if he had no time to iron them properly. Did he not care about his image in the working environment? Well, you guess that's why he's always late.

You sometimes wondered why he's still working here. Donna, the manager of this section doesn't seem to like him at all and if you're being completely honest the pay is not that good either.

Truth be told he's a pretty passionate person if it came to tour guiding, you've seen him multiple times cosplaying as a tour guide, why didn't Donna gave him the part anyway?

He shifted his gaze towards you slowly as if he's afraid of getting caught but alas you caught him in the middle of the act, throwing him a lazy smirk making him quickly looked back down at the item on his hand, as if it was the most interesting thing in the room.

"Cute." You muttered, smiling widely as you watched him try to get a grip on himself. Placing both of your hand on the desk, you straighten your back, softly calling out for him, your voice rang through the empty room loudly.

"Hey, Steven?"

He looked back up immediately, shouting his answer, "Yes!" you saw him cringed at himself before he cleared his throat, "Y-yes?" he said again, quieter this time.

"Do you know what bees make?"

You felt yourself smiled at his confused face, "Honey?" he hesitantly say his answer making you grin wider at him.

"Yes, honey?"

You saw how his eyes went wide as saucers and he opened his mouth, stuttering the words but you didn't really cared about them right now, the only thing that mattered is how adorable he looked as he crumbled beneath your stare.

Stumbling and looking anywhere beside your face as his cheeks reddened at that simple sentence that you just said.

You really think he awoken something in you and you're not complaining. You felt the smile grew wider on your face. Oh, you'll know the days would fun from now on.

That was the first of many times you'll tease him with cheesy pick up lines.

"Hey, can I borrow a pen?"

You suddenly appeared behind him, smiling widely at his figure as he searched the item on his body, "I didn't bring any."

"How about a pencil?"

You said, he shook his head to the side softly, his eyes softened, frowning slightly at your direction. "That too, sorry."

You mirrored his frown, sighing softly before muttering, "Damn, then how could u draw my attention every single time?" out loud.

You looked up and met his eyes, you can't fight the smile from forming as he stood there, in silenced with his eyes wide open- like a deer in highlights.

He gulped, feeling himself getting nervous underneath your stare, he always find you to be so pretty and confident, it's intimidating.

"I- uh,"

He stuttered making you hummed softly at him, leaning closer so you could hear him better, not missing the way his breath hitched when you're just inches away from him.

"Go on, Steven. Let me hear you."

He couldn't said it, not when you're like that. The way his heart is beating so loudly reached his ears, he's afraid that you'll hear his rapid heartbeat.

"Nevermind,"

He muttered, looking down on his shoe as he held his breath, you smell so good but he doesn't want to feel like a creep.

"I think there's something wrong with my eyes," You suddenly said, without wasting a second he looked up again, eyes boring straight into yours.

"Are you alright? Do you need anything?!" he unconsciously leaned closer with a worried mixed with panicked expression, too busy worrying about you to notice how startled you looked at his action, he also didn't notice how the glint in your eyes slightly shine.

Oh? What's this?

"I can't take them off of you, Steven."

He shut his mouth before letting a breath out. You're just so- You almost had a heart attack when he suddenly looked back, facing his back at you.

"I- Is that Donna calling me? I gotta go!"

He looked back at you and nervously smiled at you, nodding his head repeatedly and stumbling his way to the back.

Your gaze didn't left his back until he's completely out of your sight, shaking your head softly while smiling.

"Cute."

Ever since that day you've noticed that Steven has been very busy. Donna did in fact called for him a few days ago, she assigned him a couple works to do, sadly you only share a few of them and you didn't want to admit it but you kinda miss that easily flustered coworker of yours.

Thankfully you just finished this week meeting, too busy staring at Steven to noticed that all of your co-workers has left the both of you on your own.

When you finally did realized, you caught yourself waltzed your way to him, smiling slightly as he focused on his notes instead of his suroundings, he always got lost in his own world, that's such a Steven thing to do.

"You should really try (Insert the name of your country here)'s foods."

That's the first thing that you said to him. He looked up, smiling softly at your direction as you stood next to him. It's been a few days since you've talked and he also share the same feeling as you did.

"Oh- of course, I've been meaning too. "

You nodded your head, looking ahead for a second before shifting your gaze towards him again, smiling as you said the word, "I have a recommendation."

"What is it?"

"It's-"

"Wait, Let me write it down, I don't want to forget it." he cut you off, looking down again to grab a pen and tried to find an empty page on his note.

You chuckled at his behavior, leaning slightly towards him, "Me."

The pen on his grasp halted, did you just said what he thought you did?

"Excuse me?"

You raised an eyebrow at him with an innocent expression, "I'm from (country)," stepping closer to him with each word that fell from your lips. "You could try me."

He unconsciously stepped backwards, his hands trying to grab anything that could help me calm down but he was met with a wall.

"But you're not food?"

He nervously smiled when he felt his back already hit the wall behind him, you hummed at him, letting your gaze fell to his lips for a moment.

"I don't know, why don't you try and find out?"

His breath hitched once you brushed your fingertips on his forehead, brushing away the hair that covered his face.

"Are you guys flirting again?"

You looked back and stare at Donna who already folded both of her hand in front of her chest with a deep frown painted her face.

"That could wait." She said, her voice was slightly louder and tinted with annoyance as if she knew you were about to mock her.

You smiled at her direction but let out a, "It really couldn't." under your breath.

She only motioned her head to the side, silently asking you to follow her.

"Bummer." You let out another breath, looking back to where Steven is. He stood there in all his awkwardness as he watched the two of you interacted.

"I'll see u in a bit, Steven."

You winked at him and turned your back, making your way to the door, you wouldn't let the teasing end of course, you purposely sway your hips to the side seductively.

You slightly turned your head and caught a glimpse of him checking you out, you giggled. He's really easy to read, such a cute fellow.

"All you have to do is flirt back, Steven."

"no es tan difícil, hermano." (It's not that hard, brother)

"It is, Jake!"

He suddenly shouted to the mirror, his face fell, immediately regretting his action the next second.

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head, "I'm just really nervous around her." he looked back up to stare at his alters, "I don't know what it is."

"Really?" his alters only raised their eyebrows at him, he could clearly heard their tone, it was lanced with a lot of sarcasm, "You really don't know?"

Steven bit his lips, gulping his saliva down as he thought to himself before saying the words that was on his mind, his thoughts about you.

"She's just that pretty, alright!" He finally admitted, "She's confident, kind, also she's very good with words."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah! She also smells really nice, I swear the way she smiles light up the room like how could someone look so-"

Steven suddenly stopped mid sentences, while both of his alters shared a knowing look to one another.

Oh, oh. The realization came to him and it hit him like a train, he looked at his alters who looked back at him with a teasing smirk plastered on their face.

"Did you finally get it?"

Steven only nodded his head without a word, too embarrassed to say anything, he palmed his forehead as he tried to hide his blush.

Steven strode inside the inventory in confidence, today's the day, today is the day he'll finally threw a pick up line at you and caught you off guard, he also planned to ask you out, he took a deep breath.

"Don't worry, we got your back."

"así es." (That's right)

He silently thanked his alters, sitting in his place, his gaze already fixated on your face.

You could felt your skin getting hot because how hard he's been staring at you.

"No pick up line today?"

He said making you let out a small laugh, shaking your head slightly to the side you said, "I have no pick up lines in mind because I only have you in my mind right now."

He nodded his head, nervously gripping his jacket before taking them off, it's getting pretty hot.

Gulping as he repeat the pick up line that he picked. You wouldn't know but he spend a lot of time arguing on which pick up line is the best.

"Um, y/n?"

"Hm?"

You hummed at him, not looking up and continued to scan the item in your hand.

"What's your last name?"

You raised an eyebrow at that, that's new.

"L/n," you said, putting the item down and finally meeting his eye, he could almost felt like he'll melt. "that's my last name."

"C-could you spell it for me?"

He cursed himself in his mind, how could he stuttered?

You didn't really pay any mind to it and spelled your last name for him, slowly letting the alphabets fall from your lips as you keep your eyes still at him who seem to be writing them down, you wonder what's it for though.

"It's kinda hard,"

You stood up, "Let me help you write-" already making your way to him before he cuts you off, "Wouldn't it be easier if you change it to Grant instead?"

"That's right, Steven!"

He heard both of his alter said at the same time, making him somehow proud, the feeling fill his chest as he looked up, a proud expression sits on his face but it quickly shifted to a panicked one when he realized you're staring him down with a smirk, both of your hands were on the table.

"Oh? Is that so?"

"Stay strong, hermano!" (brother)

"Keep your feet to the ground!"

"Y-yes,"

"Can I really have it, Steven?"

"Don't back down now!'

You leaned closer, lifting his chin with your fingers so he could looked up at you, you could see how his pupils dilated, "Hm?" that teasing smile of yours never leave your face as you leaned closer to him, your eyes fell to his lips.

"She's really cute from up close though."

His alter said making him furrowed his eyebrows when he heard them.

"Jake!"

That's Marc, Steven unconsciously nodded his head in agreement, Marc always has his back.

"What? You disagree?"

"No, you're right."

He almost fell, surprised that his only hope was agreeing to what Jake's said.

"She's really my type too."

"I might have her all for myself-"

Steven cut Marc's word, gulping as he braved himself to said them, "I can give it to you if you want." he can't lose you, no, especially not to this idiots.

"Hey!" they both said at the same time and Steven just outright ignored them.

You lift your eyebrow, tilting your head to the side.

He took a deep breath, looking at you directly, throwing all the anxiety and nervousness out the window, "Grant. My last name."

You let out a weak laugh that made him swore he almost fell down on his knees by the sound of it, it was heavenly.

"Y/n Grant,"

You hummed at him, placing your fingers on your chin as if you're thinking about it.

Steven could felt his heartbeat beating hard through his ribcage when he heard you said that, once again afraid you'll hear them. He knew you did though.

"I like the way it sounds."

Should he buy a ring on his way home? How many kids do you want? What should he name them-

"Wait, you're moving too fast, Steven!"

He blinked, Marc's right, you putting your first name and his last name together was making him imagining things far in the future.

"Does that mean I could take you out for dinner?"

'That's a good start, right?' He thought to himself and he could hear his alters agreeing on the back of his mind.

You let out a giggle, "Yes, I would love to." smiling as you said the word you've always associates with Steven, "Cute."

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant #moon knight #marc spector #moon knight x reader #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley #steven grant x you #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight au #marvel moon knight #mcu moon knight #mira writes shts #moon knight fluff #steven grant fluff

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

W.D.Y.W.F.M (Teaser)

Jungkook could've adopted anybody else, really. He's gotten to know a lot of hybrids left and right during his time at the carecenter and foster homes- low maintenance ones, friendly ones, ones that are easy to be around. So why would he want you?

Tags/Warnings: Idol!Jungkook, Hybrid!Reader, Fox Hybrid!Reader, mentions of trauma, Reader isn't cute & cuddly in this at all, manhandling (not the spicy kind), sort of brat-tamer Jungkook but not in the kinky way if that makes sense? More TBA

A/N: so many were upset I'm not writing any more hybrid jk stories so yum yum the appetizer is served hope you're hungry

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

"She refused to eat dinner after you left." The careworker tells him as he puts his bag down, and Jungkook lowers his brows in confusion.

"Why?" He wonders, unsure. You're not very attached to him, rarely interact openly with anybody let alone him- and he's realized it might simply be because you don't like him and his rather bubbly personality that much.

"I think it might be self-punishment for what happened yesterday." She sighs, pointing to the large bandaid covering his biceps- your scratch no longer hurting at all, the cover just on it for hygiene's sake. "She feels guilty."

"But it wasn't her fault?" He asks, not sure why you'd take the blame for things so far out of your control. "I knew what I'd potentially get myself into when I offered to bring her back inside- and she didn'tget me that bad anyways." He shrugs, and the worker nods.

"Well, she certainly doesn't see it that way." She says, giving Jungkook his name tag and vest so he can start his last week, cameras at this point no longer really filming much since they've got plenty of content to work with. "You did great, honestly- handled her really well, but she might feel embarrassed now that youve witnessed her outbursts on yourself rather than just from afar." She explains, and he sighs to himself. He instantly searches for you amongst the hybrids, greeting almost everyone fleetingly as his eyes scan the environment.

He spots you sitting in a corner, observing rather than joining in- just like you always do.

"Hey-" he carefully squats down a respectful distance away from you, casually patting his bandaid once he spots you staring at it. "-all by yourself again?" He wonders, and you just shrug.

You dont answer him, crossing your arms instead.

"Heard you skipped dinner yesterday." He asks casually, sitting down now to engage in conversation. He knows that you get antsy when confronted like this- but you have to learn somehow. Everyone just wrapping you in cotton won't help you long term.

"Wasn't hungry." You mumble, avoiding eye contact. Why does he have to talk to you? This is stupid.

"Lie." He chuckles. "You were talking about how much you liked chicken to me yesterday." He calls you out, and you just pull your knees closer to yourself, tail wrapping around them as well. "You didn't hurt me much at all, you know?" He offers softly after some time of just observing you.

"...still." You argue quietly, shaking your head. "Yumi is looking-"

"But I'm talking to you right now." Jungkook disagrees amused, keeping his attention on you. "You're not a bad person." He tells you, and you grow angry suddenly. Not at him- but at yourself, because why are you such a crybaby that you're crying about a simple sentence like that? He probably doesn't even mean it, he just says it for his stupid media-stunt he's pulling. "You wanna go eat breakfast with me?" He wonders, and you shake your head. "Too bad." He chuckles, reaching out his hand to touch your wrist, simply tapping his fingers against it. "Come on, up up, I'm hungry." He says, getting up-

But you don't follow.

"I don't want to." You deny, and he sighs, leaving you be. It's fine like this- you don't need him to play some sort of Savior for you, not at all. He can show off his kindness to his fan base or whatever, you don't really care at all. He's living his life, while you'll live yours- no matter how bland it might be.

A bowl is placed at your feet, another plate with a lot of food placed down as well. "Didn't know what you wanted so-" he explains, before sitting down again in front of you. "-I just got whatever I myself eat." He shrugs casually, starting to grab the first bite.

"Your microphone isn't on." You comment, pointing to the front of his shirt where it would typically sit.

"I know." He simply answers nonchalantly, continuing to eat. You start to lift your hand to bite at your fingers, and he reaches out without fear to gently pull your wrist away from your face, before pointing to the food. "Eat. Or do you want something else?" He wonders, but you shake your head.

You are hungry.

"...'m sorry." You tell him with a crack in your voice, and he nods at you with a smile.

"I know." He answers truthfully, reaching out to tap one of your droopy ears. "But you don't have to be." He shrugs, unknowingly surprising a careworker watching from the sidelines. You're pretty jumpy with contact- you hate fast movements, loud noises, sudden things you're not prepared for. He himself notices as well- the way you flinch on instinct as he reaches out to you.

But you don't immediately try and defend yourself against him, and that's new.

Jungkook has, up until this point, simply never given you any reason to fear him. He's not very careful, very fidgety, and a little loud whenever he gets excited- but he's also gentle, and doesn't hold any bad intentions.

Though that doesn't mean that you trust him- at least not yet.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine

[prettyboykatsuki]

okay fr what do you think scara is like in bed? what’s he into, what’re his kinks, the whole shebang?

modern scaramouche hc's

✭ tags ; sub!chara, dom!reader (they bottom but parts are unspecificed so gn!reader as well), this is also my modern!scaramouche take so just be aware, bratting, rough sex, slapping, hitting, a lil degradation, reader is v careful abt scaramouches boundaries tho, romantic implications reader is stronger than scara + he is short king, etc

✭ wc ; 2.1k (im soooo ashamed. anon im so sorry)

✭ a/n ; this got so out of hand so quickly. this is my personal scaramouche this has nothing to do with anyone but me and my delusions sorry in advance.

like really. cant describe how subjective this is but i also refuse to change my mind or see him any other way. thank u so much for inquiring

my modern scaramouche is usually aged like. 20-something in college. he goes to a nice university (a very competitive school mind you.) he was really concerned about excelling for like most of his hs career. kind of a loner except tartaglia who adopted him into his friend group.

he panics about his degree for the longest time cause he doesn't know what to do - but settles on civil architecture and minors in fine art.

he has his ears pierced and some other piercings too that he was peer pressured into, but overall likes how they look. he's not usually very dressed up and all of his closet is so oversized because comfort > fashion BUT he never looks like a slob either.

has like 3 other friends on campus (kazuha + mona + childe who somehow followed him there)

complicated relationship with his mom + stepmom (he doesn't hate her but they do not communicate so tons of misunderstandings between them. like sooo many)

and. usually not actively looking to date anyone ever. he had like one crush one time in highschool but chickened out so miserably and SEETHED about it the whole time.

after that he swore to never, ever, ever go back to that dark place and sort of just focused on his career and school. his major is pretty difficult so it takes a lot of his time

plus he's a little pretentious, stuck up little shit so only a few people can handle him in the first place.

anyways. u meet through tartaglia who thinks you two will get along really well (and he's trying to set you both up bc he thinks you two could work well together)

its honestly like oil and water. you're personality just rubs him the wrong way. sure childe is annoying, but he's stupid

you're...not stupid. you're kind of clever and you treat him with like. a sense of disrespect he hates. scaramouche is used to people who let him have the upperhand

but you're always pretty quick to shoot him down. you never let him him get away with anything and you guys have this like... insane back and forth for months

its the slowest of burns. he swears he hates you.

(he doesn't though. he thinks its really fucking attractive that you talk back to him and don't let him intimidate you ever. but he loathes that feeling. he also loathes how nice your laugh is and how easy it is to talk to you)

scaramouche spends. AGES. ages in denial. closes his eyes to it. its like 6 months deep into it - he starts having wet dreams and he wakes up HORRIFIED with himself.

WORSE? scaramouche knows about your sex life. not through you but through observation and gossip. he's not fucking you in the dreams. you're fucking him.

humiliated, he simply tries to ignore it. but it's making him so much moody than usual and because you two spend so much time together - you notice almost right away. of course you do.

"whats got your panties in a twist lately? not that you're usually sunshine and rainbows but you're acting like a little kid"

scaramouche says something mean. like, really mean in response. he's just so frustrated. its a personal jab, farther than he'd usually go.

he's expecting to sabotage himself you know? he does that sometimes. pushes people away when they get too close. it's a miracle he has any friends. he's expecting you to get annoyed and leave.

but there's this like. chill to your voice. and you're looking straight at him.

"you don't talk to me like that, understand? i don't care how shitty your mood is."

one hit k.o. he can't even breathe. what's wrong with him and what is happening to him, and holy shit why do you sound like that.

"sorry," he apologizes (him. he's apologizing first) "just. frustrating,"

and you immediately slink back to your usual self. and he's relieved and a little excited and just overall restless because he can't stop thinking about what just happened.

"it's fine. i like being on your ass or whatever but it's bothering me that you're so moody. maybe you really do need to get laid,"

the joke is one you often to make. it's meant to lighten the mood. but scaramouche is feeling pent-up and horny and that's kind of exactly what he needs

"s-shut up. it's not like you're going to do it,"

internally he's hoping you take the bait. he is equal parts horrified and excited watching you take in the information. you give him a lazy smile as you sit up and look at him.

"huh. do you...want me to do it?"

oh dear god. oh fuck.

"so what if i did?"

and then you laugh, which he can't decipher. he's gearing himself to be made fun of. he watches you with big wide yes as you come sit on the desk near him. feels your fingers trail his jaw and tilt his head up and holy shit he might really die.

he can barely look up at you.

"is that why you've been acting weird for last couple of weeks?" your voice is so smug and scaramouche is so turned on it's stupid. he hates it. hates himself. hates everything

"shut up,"

and then, you grab his chin. really make him look at you and it's startling but he doesn't pull away. you look gleeful.

"that why you've been running with your tail between your legs when you see me?" you hum, your eyes almost predatory "cause you want me to fuck you?"

its times like this scaramouche he could be honest. because that's exactly what he wants, but he hates having to say it.

"as if you could satisfy me," he says, instead. your eyes widen, and it takes you a minute to register it all in your head.

"you're such a fucking brat," you say, light. affectionate, really. it makes his heart pump "you think i can't?"

"i'd like to see you try," he says, absolutely and utterly in disbelief internally. you grin.

"can i kiss you?"

"why're you asking?"

"cause im an asshole, not a villain,"

you and scaramouche makeout in a study room before he decides to to get ahold of himself and invites you into his dorm. he's never been so thankful in his life that his roomate is gone.

when you get scaramouche into bed - it really dawns on him how out of his element he is. he's not a virgin - a few awkward and usually bad hook-ups in his repertoire.

but you're not like them. he's bitey and on edge but you handle him. ask for permission for little things, clarifications for what he's okay with. you're thoughtful, despite how much he's lashing out.

and it's turning scaramouche so much he doesn't know how to handle it other than doing it again. he wants to provoke you so much. he wants to put him in his place over and over.

it's mid makeout he pulls away, frustration all-welled up inside him that he asks. he's hard and needy and needs something to get him off.

"i knew you were all talk," he sneers, putting as much of himself in it as he can "this is nothing,"

you look at him very seriously "you're really asking for it, huh," you say with a sigh "do you know what you're getting into?"

"nothing serious obviously,"

"usually when i deal with brats like you, i treat 'em real rough. im being nice to you cause you're so pent up, but it's like you don't want that," you grab his face again, getting close and personal this time and scaramouche feels like he'll collapse "want me to treat you mean and put you in your place? hit you and make you cry?"

oh it ruins his life. that's exactly what he wants. what he needs from you so much it aches. so much he chokes.

"wh-what the hell are-"

but you make him face forward, look you in your eyes.

"your first lesson is answer me when i talk to you. is that what you want? you can nod if you can't say it,"

so he nods and you laugh.

"yeah? should smack the brat outta you shouldn't i?

you're asking for permission. despite his everything, there's something affectionate about it. he feels his stomach twist with desire.

"just fucking do it already,"

"tell me if you need to stop,"

"i said—"

it's unceremonious, really. when scaramouche feels the palm of your hands on his cheek, landing heavy and hard as you push him back against the bed. you hit him.

he liked it. makes his cock throb in his fucking jeans, feeling the sting.

"your second lesson is don't fucking mouth at me," you practically spit. there's some roughness in your actions that make scaramouche keen as you crawl on top of him "can't even deal with your moods without lashing out."

scaramouche feels his stomach churn as your hands make rough work of him. you pin his wrists over his head, tell him to keep it there.

and of course he refuses, disobeys - gets to feel how strong you actually are when you spit the words back in his face again to hold fucking still.

scaramouche keeps doing it. keeps pushing until you have to put him back where he belongs forcibly. he doesn't know that he's doing it

but he wants something he can't name, a desire that aches so deep in his chest. he wants you to take responsibility for him - like a promise of some kind.

he likes the way your mouth feels on his skin. your teeth feel so good sinking into pale flesh. the scratch of your nails and sting of your palms as you spank and hit and push his body.

you manhandle him so fucking easily, putting him in every position you can think of. on his knees, or his back - naked and waiting.

you tease scaramouche till he's honest, your voice coarse until he starts giving in.

you're so good with your hands. your fingers, your mouth. you know just the right things to get him all squirmy - praising him when he's getting desperate towards the end.

his sense of shame nowhere to be found as he gets close to the edge. as you tip him over it, he can feel all the tension bleed out of him. goes from bitching, to whiny - needy and not above begging.

he doesn't even understand it. can't wrap his head around it all the way - lets you guide him through the feeling as he starts feeling pliant.

you let him fuck you with mercy. don't make him work for it, just sit on his cock and tell him that he looks so much better when he's all messed up for you and he just. melts completely. like feels like he's gonna fall through the floor.

he cries when he cums. sobs a little as he finally gets relief then melts into your bed like a pile of wet sand as you finish yourself off and overstimulate him a little in the process.

after all is said and done - he falls asleep basically immediately after the high.

when he wakes up the next day - you haven't left. he's like kind of nuzzled up in your arms (which. is wild bc he has always hated physical touch but? apparently not with you)

when you stir awake, you're immediately whistling. you even press a kiss to his forehead and brush his hair out of his face.

"you awake? feel okay?" you hum, so stupidly tender and scaramouche has to fight every urge to push you away.

"im...fine. you're still here," he says unhelpfully. you chuckle.

"yeah. figured you would start spiraling if i left in the middle of the night"

he is horrified at the accuracy.

"it's weird when you're being all...nice to me,"

"its a lot easier since i realize you just wanted to be put in your place," you say with a knowing him. scaramouche elbows you "it's cute, it's cute. don't kill me,"

"you're annoying,"

"yeah, i know. i wiped you down a bit but we should shower and i gotta make sure you're not too hurt anywhere,"

"i'm not a flower,"

"i was bein' pretty rough and its my job to take care of you,"

"why would that be your job?"

"cause im a responsible sexual partner and we're seeing each other, i figure?"

he flushes at the implication. he doesn't want to think about it as he cuddles himself into your side. ugh. whatever.

"who said that?"

"do you want me to see other people?"

"i'll kill you,"

"that's what i thought,"

scaramouche hates it but does not have the confidence to protest you.

scaramouche realizes with the weight of the world on his shoulders that he is the most submissive brat in the fucking world

he decides not to think about it for a while

#i edited it so much out i want to fuck the brat out of him im SORRRYYYYYYYY #scaramouche smut #genshin impact smut #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact x reader #writing tag

[happyflux]

Saw a really long post today where someone was talking about D&D vampire lore, compiling what different sources say about it (including the Baldur's Gate games) and, y'know, for the most part it was a good post, it's a useful and good quick reference on what the different sources have said about vampires.

(readmore because this turned out long oops)

But then at the end, and in an addition to the post replying to a tag someone had put, the post began talking about applying all this lore to BG3 specifically, and it made me think. Because the takeaway that post had seemed to be that the things about vampire lore which are consistent to the rest of D&D do apply to BG3 as well, and that Astarion is simply an exception due to his extremely strong willpower and sense of self. And that just doesn't seem right to me at all. It feels like missing the point.

BG3 did some very specific, very interesting things with the lore of D&D. In terms of vampires, yes, but also more generally, BG3 pretty consistently gives the message that the things that are said in the rulebooks are not necessarily true, but are oversimplifications and generalizations that are believed to be true in universe.

BG3 got rid of racial ability scores, giving every race the same "choose a +2 and a +1" that variant humans can have in D&D. BG3 not only got rid of racial alignments, but got rid of alignments entirely - there is no detect evil and good, protection against evil and good has been replaced with a spell that mechanically protects against outsiders of various kinds, there is no alignment selection for player characters, no alignment showing up on inspection despite pretty much entire stat blocks being visible, and the companion characters all have complex morality that doesn't fit neatly into any alignment box. BG3 establishes and many times repeats that Volo, the in-universe author of a lot of the texts we have access to about Faerûn, is an incredibly unreliable source. BG3 has Halsin, a large-built and hairy elf (something which the rulebooks claim is impossible as elves are slender and graceful and have no body hair), say that "sometimes I think conventional wisdom is too narrow about what someone can or cannot be".

On the topic of vampirism specifically, BG3 has Jaheira (who is established to be wise and knowledgeable due to being an experienced and well travelled adventurer) say "They say that the only thing a vampire can feel is hunger. Nothing else touches them - not grief, or mercy. Or any sense of what is just. Who knows. There is often more ignorance than insight in what 'they' say", in response to Astarion remaining a spawn. And, on an Astarion origin run, it is established that at least half of his siblings can be convinced to want to oppose Cazador (it's just that non-origin Astarion chooses to antagonize them instead), and they can be persuaded not to feed off of people, and even without Astarion suggesting it Dalyria will take the initiative to help and take care of the other spawn. And, and this I think is crucial, every vampire we see in BG3 aside from possibly Vellioth is established to have been through circumstances which could easily twist someone and turn them horrible, no magical twisting of emotions or inherent existential evil required.

To play Baldur's Gate 3 and take away from it that the things which D&D lore has previously said about vampires apply to this game, and that Astarion is just somehow Special because of his Extremely Strong Willpower and Sense of Self feels like completely missing the point. Vampires in BG3 are evil because they're stuck in a cycle of violence and suffering and aren't able to escape, and when they are given an escape from that cycle they are able to heal and recover and be more than what they were made. Astarion does not have exceptional willpower, Astarion got lucky. He got out, he made some connections, he got a chance to heal and unlearn the things he'd been taught before being thrust back into Cazador's presence, and that's why he's able to break the cycle. Or, alternately, if the people he finds when he gets out don't push him to unlearn the things Cazador taught him and instead reinforce those beliefs, he becomes just like him. Again, no magical twisting of emotions required.

#bg3 #astarion #sorry about the long post lol #also don't take this too seriously. i don't think interpreting a story differently than me is problematic or anything #it just annoys me when people are wrong about my blorbo on the internet (read: when people interpret the story differently from me) #hence why i made my own post instead of commenting on the one that i reference

[tarotwithdanise]

Your future best friend's personality

1 - 2 - 3

SOURCE AND CREDITABLE : All of the pictures are collected and downloaded from pinterest , I don’t own any of them but credits goes to the rightful owners however edits goes and the reading itself belong to me. I use the editor tools canva and ibispaint for the header and divider. If saved/downloaded the divider use a proper credits and tag/mention along my acc @tarotwithdanise. Expect grammatical errors with this reading, bear with it because english isn't my mother tongue.

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Pile one

This is someone who already on their spiritual awakening. They are someone who you can't just tricked and fooled easily, this person makes you think twice of all your actions. They are smart people, if you play trick ways, they will know it immediately without any hesitation because they are mastermind. You will meet this person to any spiritual groups and places. It can be that this is where they work or they're someone who used to teach others. People come at them to ask for their advices, they're great mentor. They like to inspire and be inspired. They might come off as mysterious and secretive individual too. You two will create a strong foundation of friendships. It's not yet the right time to reveal themselves fully to you. But all of i had said was the highlights of them.

Pile two

-this gonna be long compared to previous pile, this person is like an open book.

If I were describe this person, they always look at the bigger picture. Most likely, this is is someone who have vision board or they already have an idea what they want to be in the future. Most likely this person is someone who have a young spirit or probably younger than you. They enjoy and love to try new things, they're adventurous and brave individual. They're quite rare individual and ready for any change that surrounds them, in fact they're risk taker and will enjoy traveling around and across each country - they're adventurous individual. I see that they're talkative individual, someone who likes to share their MU's and crushes to you. They're typically jolly and has an extrovert personality, they like encouraging people. If I am not mistaken this person is probably the one who will try to get you out of your comfort zone. I picking up a strong masculine energy so they maybe a boy? but they can also be a girl that just embodied a masculinity. The cons of their traits is that, they experience unstable mental health and might have a very childish attitude, they probably has a lot of break downs with their past that's why. It's like they see their past self to you, that's why they're trying their best to help you as they can with pure intention.

They might be young but their experiences is level up into the next level that most of their ages doesn't yet uncover. I do also see here that even though they not really a ‘star pupil’ or a ‘straight A's pupil’ their classmates or their co-workers likes them to be their leader ; someone who will guide and lead them into a project or teamwork. Some people feels very irritated towards them because they're very jolly, hyper and friendly, somehow their friendliness can affect you because you only have them while they have many choices but what's more interesting here is that they're longing always for your presence, you maybe way more matured and intelligent when it's comes to logic rather than them so this is one of reason why few people take an advantage to their innocent and kindness. And what else? They prefer and like more to share their problems and secrets to you more rather than to their other friends. Like they typically see you as their only lifetime best friend while the rest of their friends is temporary. You tickled this person heart, you got their full trust. This feels like a friendship between a straight forward and trash talker person with their wild and funny friend.

Pile three

This is someone who maybe from a well-off family, it's either the relationship with their family is okay or in other way, it's broken. This is someone who is same age as yours, they likes traveling whether inside or outside of country. They also likes country music and artists. They are not emotionally stable and may need someone to lean on. It's hard for them to somehow find balance between two choices. This friendship may lead from friends to lovers, if both of you will pursued this connection. They may not be good at decision making but they are kind person and will do everything to share the life they have to their friends and other people. This person might own atleast one pet at their home and probably someone who may like the color of black. They maybe act spoiled and stupid sometimes but they're totally kind, it's just they used to act one. They may have an unpredictable nature and maybe someone who hold a lot of responsibilities even though they can't.

© tarotwithdanise ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, alter, or repost my work in any other social media platforms with or without my explicit permission.

#pick a card #tarot #pick a pile #free tarot reading #tarotcommunity #tarot online #pick a card reading #pick a pile reading #tarotblr #witches #tarot witch #witch #witchblr #divination #cartomancy #spirituality #fortune telling

[maesterchill]

WIP Snip

Thanks to @tackytigerfic and @skeptiquewrites for tagging me! I Ioved reading your snips ❤️

This is from the fic wanted to write for this year's @dronarryfest but I'm so SO far away from ever possibly finishing it. Hopefully some day!! It's set in eighth year and Pansy has gone missing.

"Will you stay?" Draco asks.

Potter and Weasley look at each other.

"I don't want to be alone," Draco says, looking up at the ceiling so he doesn't have to say it to their faces.

Potter and Weasley share a nod, then start taking off their shoes. Draco thinks for a moment that there's been another misunderstanding, but the kicked-off shoes are as far as Potter undresses before he climbs into bed next to Draco. Weasley shrugs and takes off his hoodie before getting in on the other side.

"Thank you," Draco whispers, though it feels thin and meagre, insufficient to convey what he feels.

Potter laces his fingers into Draco's where they rest on his stomach. "You'd do the same for us."

Draco isn't quite sure about that, that Potter or Weasley would ever need anything like this from him, but this feels so nice, so soothing and calming, that he thinks maybe Potter’s right; Weasley lost a brother and Potter so many more, and just because they have each other doesn't mean that's it, doesn't mean that's all they'll they need to be okay.

This could be so awkward, but somehow it feels natural when Potter puts his arms around Draco, holding him. Weasley cuddles in close to the two of them, giving Draco his arm to rest his head on. Draco firms his grip on both of them and pulls them a little closer.

And somehow, somehow, despite his grief, Draco falls asleep between them. It is not dreamless or easy, but when he rouses—startling out of sleep with some nightmare—miraculously, they are still there, sleeping soundly beside him like children.

He wakes in the morning to the sound of the two of them sitting up against the headboard and talking softly, not about him but about everyday things, the plans for Hogwarts.

Draco still feels exhausted, but he feels his magic replenished again. He puts a hand on his chest, letting his magic flow into him in a restoration spell, taking the edge off of his weariness. The incantation attracts Weasley and Potter's attention, and both of them turn to him. He feels for a moment a sense of expectation, but it passes when he realises that neither of them are asking him anything, nor waiting for some proclamation.

"I'm starving," Draco says, because it seems like the easiest thing to fix, and because he doesn't know how to thank them.

"You're not the only one," Potter grouses, and the way he says it makes Draco wonder if he missed an argument.

"Eggs and bacon all round, then," Weasley says purposefully. He slips out of bed, and Potter goes with him.

"We'll see you downstairs?" Potter asks.

"In a minute," Draco says. This seems to be satisfactory, and Potter gives him a quick kiss on the forehead before taking Weasley's hand and leaving the room.

When they're gone, Draco rises, stretching out before he takes off his pyjamas, feeling lighter, like it's a little easier to breathe.

He leaves his room, and he doesn't look back to see if Pansy is coming too.

Who else would like to share a snip? How about @sweet-s0rr0w @apricitydays-lazynights @thecouchsofa @lqtraintracks @lettersbyelise @sassy-cissa @wolfpants @citrusses @starquestingfordrarry @xanthippe74 don't forget to tag nosy little me if you do!

#wip snip #dronarry #draco x harry x ron

[ofallthingsnasty]

heyy omg it's so fun to read your manipulator post!! can I please get when they become a total mess without you? like when they regret and all.. I know that kaiser won't ever regret something due to his superiority complex. so I wanna know what will he do without reader, I'm sure he somehow got little attached to reader right? AND PLEASE LET READER GO FOR GOOD NOT COMING BACK TO THAT BASTARD xD (thank youuuu! I know that I'm asking to much *sigh*)

ah I'm so happy it resonated so well with so many people!! I really like the more hopeless, mean side of yanderes and I feel like Blue Lock really provides us with so many fucked up little guys who can really make your head spin -- it's the same reason reader will always end up with them but let me give you some food for thought haha. References this post. Requests are open!

tags: yandere, baby trapping, reader can get pregnant but no pronouns are used, emotional manipulation, noncon mention

word count: 0.6k

We talked about you escaping Kaiser as a foreign darling here and I still think that at first, Kaiser will be seething. It takes him a good while to calm down again, to mend his broken ego at least a little bit. He does have feelings for you - he isn't cold, doesn't only view you as something to possess - but he wants to be worshipped. That anger is definitely born out of a sense of superiority and entitlement but also hurt feelings. That man loves you more than he likes to admit and your absence hurts him in ways he hasn't experienced before. It’s a confusing mix for him.

All things he does during those initial weeks: (subtly) dragging your name through the mud in the public, pulling strings to make life as hard as possible for you, having Ness talk to you - if they all fail, if nothing can make you crawl back to him on your hands and knees, I can see that anger slowly turning to desperation. It’s absolutely ugly. He doesn’t know what to do with the feeling, too used to getting what he wants, to winning. Ness will bear the brunt of it, no doubt. Moody, even more easily irritated than he already is, he’ll all but terrorize his team mates. Even the media picks up on it and they’ll have a field day with reporting on the subject. People around him are incredibly concerned for him and it will only drive him further up the wall.

In the end, he’ll turn up at your door on his own, no middlemen needed.

You’ll barely recognize him. Hair disshevelled, face pale with too little sleep and eyes red, he looks pathetic as he stares at you from his place on your doorstep.

It’s hard not to feel at least a little bit of pity for him when he looks like this. And maybe because he only ever emotionally abused you - never really kept you, never hurt you physically - your memories soften and you see his raw, vulnerable innards, see that big soccer star as some genuinely hurt young man, small and desperate. It isn’t really an act but the words he weaves aren’t all that truthful, either. It won’t take long for you to let him back into your heart: Being so close to him, remembering how you did love him, how he could be so sweet when he wanted to- that and the heartfelt talks you two are having even make you forgive him for the stunt he pulled with Ness. Everything is just too easily explained away with desperation, with him being beside himself after you left. One tiny part of you wants him to change, wants that initial magic of dating a pro athlete, back. You want to believe that he can and will change, that’s why his little spiel works on you in the first place. You still have too much love for him, in the end.

Kaiser is obsessed with control, we know as much - and what is one way to really bind you to him? Oh, it’s almost too easy. Marrying you is a no-brainer but today’s marriages are easily broken apart. No. He needs something entirely different - a child. Just one. A tiny little bundle of joy, the spitting image of the both of you, something that irrevocably keeps you with him, makes you think twice before leaving again. And he wouldn’t mind a child, even if he doesn’t feel quite ready yet - it doesn’t matter, as long as you stay with him for as long as you both live. Getting you so drunk you puke up your pill and don’t even remember him fucking you while you’re half-conscious is a breeze. Happy little accidents happen all the time, don’t they?

#blue lock x reader #yandere blue lock #michael kaiser x reader #yandere michael kaiser

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

You Feel Like Home To Me 💕✨

Part two to Home

Summary; Eric is sniffing around you once more which causes Eddie to have some realisations. Or alternatively, the one where Eddie gets a clue.

Warnings; Jealous Eddie, fluff, a bit of angst. 18+, minors dni. Friends to lovers, Eddie gets a clue ;)

If you enjoyed this then lmk 💕

Also is anyone experiencing trouble with the tags tonight? This is my second repost ✨ Annoying as heck 😩💕

Do not copy, reuse or repost my work.

✨💕✨💕

When you woke up after the party with a pounding headache and memories flooding back to you from last night, you were immediately embarrassed.

You told Eddie that he was so cute, that you wished he liked you. Shit!

What the hell did you say to him when you next saw him? How did you explain yourself?

Maybe you could just pass it off as being tipsy and Eddie would accept that.

You had hidden his you felt for so long so hiding it for a little longer wouldn't matter.

All you knew is Eddie had looked after you and you knew he cared for you as a friend, so in no way were you going to jeapordise that.

Somehow you had to move on from Eddie because you knew he would never return your feelings;.

💕✨💕✨

Eddie couldn't wait to see you. The new Nightmare on Elm Street movie was out and he was psyched to take you to go and see it.

Robin and Steve were coming along too and it was going to be a great night to just hang with friends, maybe smoke a little weed, bliss.

Things had been a little strange since the party, he has only saw you once since then and you hadn't brought up what you said after the party so he didn't either.

There was no way he was bringing up how you made him feel, that you felt like home because he didn't understand it himself.

Hopefully things would go back to normal soon...

What Eddie hadn't counted on was walking into Family Video and a grumpy Steve greeting him.

"Munson" he nods and Eddie claps him on the bag.

"What's up Steve? Not enough babes for you today?" he teases and Steve actually does crack a smile.

"Shit dude, it's him. He's been coming in for days. Annoying prick" Steve points to where you're working and Eddie stiffens.

Eric is there, a smarmy grin on his face and he is making you smile, the smile that's usually only reserved for him.

He doesn't like that one bit. Steve is right Eric is a prick, a handsy prick who's lucky he still has teeth after what occurred at the party.

You peer up at him and beam while rushing over to him. "Eddie"!

He never tires of the way that you light up when you see him. Your expression is what he feels inside every time he sees you.

"Hey princess. You ready for movie night?" at this point Eric struts up to you both and as you leave Eddie's arms, Eric smugly slings an arm around your shoulder.

Eddie's stomach clenches and he tries his best not to give into the urge of ripping Eric's arm right of you.

This concerns him because he's protective of you for sure but this feels so much more than that.

He's jealous, he's never been jealous at least like this anyway... This is different. The emotion fills him and all he wants to do is keep you close and away from those grabby hands of Eric's.

Coming in here. Flirting with my girl he fumes. Wait a minute... My girl.

You weren't his. Sure he thought you were smart, beautiful and sweet, amazing and funny but you weren't his

Fuck, he'd like you to be though, he really would and that's why things never worked out with Penny or Monica or any of the others.

Well shit...

💕💕

Much to your surprise, Eric had decided to join you at the movies, which had put Eddie in a foul mood.

You figured it was because Eric was encroaching on your time with Eddie.

It's not like you had met many of his dates, if you did meet them they didn't last long, Eddie never really had any girl that stuck around, it's like he was waiting for the perfect girl but just hadn't met her yet.

So maybe Eddie was jealous of Eric a little bit because he was scared that he would lose you as a friend.

That would never ever happen. Still, it's not like you could stay single all of your life while pining over Eddie.

He would meet an amazing girl eventually, you know you needed to move on from him and maybe giving Eric a chance was the way to do that.

Eric's arm casually slips around yours as he sits in the middle between you and Eddie.

"Hey, Munson. Scram. Three's a crowd dude" The look on Eddie's face makes you sense danger as his brown eyes flash.

"You know, I think I'm fine right here" Eddie growls and Eric shrugs.

"Suit yourself, dude"

The next half hour is the most awkward of your life as Eric flirts shamelessly with you and Eddie is concentrated on the movie, though his demeanour is tense.

Halfway through it, you're thirsty and Eddie offers to get you a drink. Eric follows him and your nerves grow even more as you exchange a glance with Robin and Steve.

This was not going to end well...

💕

Eddie didn't know why Eric followed him, he was getting on his last nerve.

"Dude, this is going great. Gotta say think I'm going to score tonight" Eric nudges him and Eddie stiffens.

"What?" Eric grins and throws an arm around him, Eddie thinks for a brief few seconds about punching Eric in his stupid smug mouth and shrugs his arm away.

"Come on man, tell me. You've tapped that right? Spill the deets" fury fills him and he glares at Eric.

"Don't talk about her like that" he warns him who did the douchebag think he was?

Didn't he realize how special you are? How any guy would be lucky to be with you. Of course, it would help if Eddie thought at least one guy was good enough for you but he didn't.

Not even Steve and he liked Steve a lot.

"I'm warning you, man. Shut up if you know what's good for you" Eric's smug smirk falls at these words and he snorts.

"Lighten up man. She's single, isn't she? Or are you in love with her or some shit?" Eddie doesn't hear anything else the douchebag says, he's coming to the realisation on something he should have known anyway.

Something he's suspected for a while but especially in the last few days.

He loved you and he was a fucking idiot for not seeing it any sooner.

"Really, Munson you think she's going to like a freak like you? Give me a break" Eric doubles over laughing and something inside Eddie snaps.

"Shut the fuck up. I mean it" he tells him coldly and all the colour drains from Eric's face before he laughs again, cocky as shit.

"Bet it will eat you up if I get there first huh?"...

At this point, Eddie stalks up to Eric but before anything can happen he hears you call his name.

"Babe, you gotta get your guard dog on a leash or something" Eric nods to you and you scowl, placing a tender hand on Eddie's chest before he lunges for Eric.

"I think you should go," you say to Eric who gapes, then shrugs.

"Whatever, got plenty of chicks I can score with" Ugh, you watch him go feeling disgusted.

Okay so Eric was definitely out of the picture, however you turn to Eddie still pissed at his attitude as well.

"We need to talk"

💕💕

You follow Eddie out beyond pissed as he calls Eric a few choice names. The ride home is fraught with tension and Eddie follows you inside as he still mutters about Eric.

It's all true, yeah but you're still annoyed at his attitude before Eric showed his true colours.

"Yeah he was a dick Eddie but before I knew that you were in a mood about something"

He swallows. ''That asshole was only after one thing"

"If he was a nice guy would you have the same problem?" he's silent then he speaks again.

"I would if he was an asshole who just wanted one thing"

"What does it matter? You sleep with women all the time so what does it matter if I wanted to sleep with a guy? No strings, no feelings just like you do?" you snap.

He doesn't say anything for a moment then looks you dead in the eye, resolve on his features.

"Yeah, and none of them works out and I've finally realised why" You pause and wonder what he means, motioning him to finish what he's saying.

"I'm in love with an amazing woman and I want her to know that she's the best thing that's ever happened to me and she feels like home"

Oh... your stomach sinks and you're desperate to show that you're happy for him even though your heart is breaking so badly.

"Oh, that's...that's great" he walks over to you and cups your cheek, his eyes warming.

"Oh, princess, come on. You know it's you I'm crazy about" You're stunned for a few seconds then break out into an ecstatic smile, trying very hard not to cry.

"Really?" he blushes as your hand entwines with his.

"Yes, took me long enough to realize, I think deep down I always knew. Seeing you with that douchebag was a wake-up call. I love you, sweetheart, you're my world, my home. I hope you know that"

All the anger and tension has faded from your body and your teary - happy tears - as you listen to Eddie's confession.

"I love you too Eddie" You kiss him and he pulls you closer to him, deepening the kiss.

"I'm sorry I got so jealous, I'm sorry I was with those women when I should have realised it was you I wanted"

You kiss him again and he holds you close, you fit perfectly in his arms and contentment fills you. It's been such a whirlwind of a day but it couldn't have ended any better.

"It's okay, you did realise. You're here with me right now and all I want to do is feel your lips on mine" he grins.

"As you wish princess"

✨💕

Eddie marvels at you in his arms, naked body pressed close to his. The rise and fall of your breathing as you make love.

Sex has never felt like this before, it feels so incredible and he knows it's because it's with you.

"I love you" he looks deep into your eyes as he says this and your warm smile makes his heart skip a beat.

You whisper against his neck as you press kisses over it, that you love him too.

He holds you close to him, fireworks explode in his mind as you clench around him tight.

"Eddie" your soft moans drive him wild and he orgasms, spilling his seed inside you, he captures your mouth with his in soft kisses as your back arches and you orgasm whispering his name over and over again.

He smiles as you fall asleep in his arms, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead.

It's you, it's always been you. Now that you're his, he feels at peace, content.

Because you're his home, you always have been. Always will.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

[angelltheninth]

Pretty Little Pet

Pairing: Makima x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, dom/sub dynamics, blindfolds, pussy slapping, orgasm control/denial, fingering, praise, pet names, begging, dom!Makima

Word count: 0.7k

A/N: I may be scared of Makima, but that doesn't mean I'll refuse a commission involving her. "They offered me what I couldn't refuse: money!" Points to you if you know where that's from.

Being Makima lover required a few things. Simple things, but big in her eyes. Your complete devotion, love, submission, your whole self, now only hers. Mind, body, heart, soul, everything beyond and in-between.

You didn't question it much when Makima kissed you and asked you to pretty please let her take your clothes off, piece by piece, leaving kisses on your bare skin while your sighs turned into moans under her hands and mouth.

You could touch her too of course, but only for as long as she permitted it. One snap of her fingers and you knew you had to comply. There was no need for handcuffs as she pushed you on your back and told you to stay still. You knew when to keep your hands away and when to touch and pull and push.

Then came the blindfold, and after that, pleasure and frustration.

You lost count of how many times Makima brought you to the brink of an orgasm only to leave you hanging, your hips desperately trying to get the friction you needed. You don't even know how many hours it's been.

Due to you being blindfolded every sound, every whisper, every kiss, every bite, every slap against your clit and pussy, every push of her fingers inside of you comes as a delightful, yet torturous surprise.

"You're doing so well pet." Your leg muscles ached from laying spread open for so long but you couldn't bare to close them against her hand, which returned to moving between your legs without mercy, "Who's my good girl?"

"I-I am. I'm good! Please! Please let me come! I feel like I'm losing my mind!" Makima chuckled at that, a delicate soothing kiss was pressed on the shell of your ear at the same time your right nipple was pinched hard.

"That's what I was hoping for. You can take more, I know you can." She delivered a quick slap on your pussy, your hips jerking upwards only to be pushed upwards by her fingers once again pistoning in and out of your drooling cunt.

Makima loved seeing you like this. Mind so clouded with pleasure that all you could do was beg. It was so easy too, for her to reduce you to a blabbering, horny, wet, desperate mess, where the only thoughts in your head were her and her making you, no letting you come.

"If only you could see yourself now. Begging to be fucked like a bitch in heat, your pretty cunt squeezing me so desperately. Well pet, tell me, have you earned it do you think? Do you deserve to come?" She was fucking her faster, increasing her pace with each question, making it almost impossible for you to form an answer.

You were so close, so damn close, you could feel it, all you needed now was to respond, "Yes ma'am! I'll do it for you! Please, please let me come for you! Plea-!" Your word as cut off as Makima curled her fingers inside of you and practically dragged your orgasm out of you with such force it left your mind completely blank.

"My sweet darling," She cooed, the tone somehow feeling too sweet and not sweet enough, "you're mesmerizing when I make you come."

Makima was happy with you. You pleased her, this performance pleased her. It filled your chest with so much warmth to be praised by her. "Yes, thank you."

"No, thank you." She gently withdrew her fingers from your sensitive cunt, your hips still twitching after her hand much to her amusement. "Let's get this off you now, I want to see you entirely." When the blindfold feel off and your eyes were able to adjust you saw Makima smiling warmly at you, even more so than the warmth in your chest. Your heart hammered in your chest at the beautiful sight, "Such an obedient, beautiful, darling pet I have." Makima kissed your forehead, almost sending you to heaven for real this time, "Close your eyes, let me hold you."

Her words were like a magic spell to your very soul, lulling you to a blissful unconsciousness while she pulled the covers over you and let you snuggle up against her front. You truly felt blessed to be with her, to be able to call yourself Makima's.

#chainsaw man #makima #makima x reader #makima smut #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man smut #makima imagine #chainsaw man imagine #makima fanfiction #chainsaw man fanfiction #csm #csm smut #csm x reader