#this is why i became so attached to him when i was playing... its like. YO THIS guy this guy gets it (becomes obsessed) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

livingdeadgirlflorette · 9 months ago

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ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? ₊˚✩⊹ carl grimes x fem!reader

summary : After what happened a few weeks ago, seeing Carl made you anxious. Just looking at him made you ponder what was the thing you had with him. But one visit to a friend of his may just be enough to be the straw that breaks the camel's back.

word count : 4.7k

tags / rundown : average teen angst, fluff, more-than-friends-less-than-lovers trope, glenn and maggie are your substitute parents here, carl has an emotional capacity of a teaspoon, reader and carl are so oblivious oh my word, slight jealous!carl, kissing, sitting on carl's lap, brief mention of teen pregnancy

a / n : hi guys! this is a part 2 for "late night kisses", but it could be read as a stand-alone as well ! i just finished this like 2 hours ago and proofread it, i'm pretty satisfied with how this came out. i really wanted to show how angsty teenager's could be for such trivial things, and i think i showed it pretty well here >_< enjoy reading !

dividers by @cafekitsune 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

PART 1: LATE NIGHT KISSES ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

With Rick interrupting your whole secret rendezvous with Carl in his bedroom, and practically telling you he knows about you guys— you wonder how bad it really would be if they did find out about you and Carl.

But there was one question that gets under your skin more than anything. It makes you think if anything between the two of you was more than just what you guys were doing. What were you and Carl?

All this time it has been just Y/N and Carl, inseparable, attached to the hip best friends. Just. Friends. That's an interesting way to state the relationship between the two of you, if just friends sneak around and makeout in their bedroom, and If just friends hold eachother at night, looking into each other's eyes lovingly, never wanting it to end.

It makes you concerned also, what did Carl think about the two of you? You don't what to acknowledge it, but it makes you stomach churn thinking that Carl would think you guys were nothing more than friends that kiss one another every once in a while. Thinking about it just puts a crestfallen, depressed look on your face.

"What's got you down in the dumps for?" A voice snaps you out of your mind question of is-Carl-a-friend-or-something-more crisis, remembering where you are. You're at your dining room table, eating breakfast with Glenn and Maggie. Ever since their group came, you became close with them, subconsciously (whether you wanted to or not) growing a familial bond with them.

They told you multiple times that you were welcome to come and go— so whenever you feel like it, you come to them when you have a problem, or you just don't want to interact with other teenagers in Alexandria. They get too posh-sounding when they talk about trivial things for your liking.

"Oh its uh— y'know it's just nothing." You dismiss the brunette woman's question. Since you and Carl didn't want anybody to know about the two of you, you decided to keep it a secret. And it would be a shame for the both of you if all of that came crashing down just 'cause Maggie had asked why you looked so sad.

"Well nothing doesn't make you of all people look so depressed. Why don't you go to your little boyfriend? He always puts a smile on that face." Glenn suggests, using a teasing sound for the question. You know he's just trying to make you feel better, but the mention of Carl just makes you even more down trodden. But you quickly realize what Glenn titles him as.

With an seemingly unstoppable flush blooming on your face, you quickly try to defend yourself, trying to save face.

"He's not my boyfriend, nor am I his girlfriend. We're nothing really, just friends." You argue. Saying that makes your heart break a little, even if you don't want it to. You play with the food on your plate, seeming uninterested. You just want to curl up into a ball and let time pause for a minute. Everything is just too much right now.

"He may not be your boyfriend per se, but he sure does act like one." Glenn counters, smiling knowingly. Despite every molecule and fiber of your being wanting to defend yourself, he was right. Carl did tend to have tendencies towards you that were too close for comfort on being the role of a lover.

If you ever mentioned a food you'd been missing, or an item so specific that you'd been missing in general, he'd get it for you and act all nonchalant and dismissive when you'd ask how the hell did he get it from (but he'd never tell you how he had almost got surrounded by a herd of walkers trying to get it for you). He would put his hand, hovering ever so slightly on your back when going through a crowded group or when he's behind you.

"We're uhm— I dunno. We're something." You say, moving food around your plate, showing signs of boredom, but no amount of uninterest in your body language could mask the sad look on your face. As much as your answer was adding nothing to the conversation, what you said was sincere. What really were you two? Friends don't sneak into the other's room at night, friends don't straddle each other, and friends definitely don't lock lips with each other. It stumped you, if you were going to be honest.

"Well figure that something out with the boy, okay? It's disheartening watching the two of you walk around like sad little puppies all the time." Glenn finalizes, he finishes his plate of food and walks over to the sink. Unknowingly to him, what he had said made you perplexed. Carl was also blue? As much as it made you feel empathetic for him, it made you wonder why he was also feeling like he had his heart punched out of his chest. You thought what you were feeling was just you, but with him also feeling upset over it, it kind of made you guilty 'cause it felt good knowing that what you were feeling was mutual.

"I actually have an idea, but it's not one of my most proudest. . ." You barely let out, feeling all shy now that you realize you're gonna say it out loud. Glenn was washing his dish, but he turned his head to the side to share a look of curiousity with his wife. They both looked back at you, silently tell you to go on.

"I'm gonna talk to Mikey. He seems to know Carl well enough, and I think maybe he could help me." Without skipping a beat, Maggie had paused the spoon with food that was about to go into her mouth and Glenn paused his movements before they continued doing their actions.

You know it was a silly conclusion, but with all the mood swings you were getting from avoiding Carl, desperate times call for desperate measures. You figured you had no choice anymore, and this was the only thing you thought of. Ever since Carl and his group had been recruited by Aaron, Mikey and the other teens seemed to have grown close with him, and you concluded that maybe he'd know if Carl was acting strange and if he had maybe, possibly told him about you.

But before that ridiculous thought, you pondered if maybe Enid could help you with this debacle, but you know she wouldn't be all that comfortable sharing feelings like that, and she wasn't a person that you could talk to about it. You also knew she'd thank you for saving her from that talk about how Carl made you feel all mushy inside.

Is it a stupid and dumb idea? yes— but as you said yourself, desperate times call for desperate measures. The married couple share a uncertain look with each other, but decide silently they wouldn't press too hard about it.

"And uh, how do you think Carl would feel about that? Y'know, going behind his back and all that?" Maggie suggests, finally finishing her last spoonful before standing up to go to where Glenn is at the sink.

You also thought that while thinking of a solution, but you figured that it would be better off if Carl didn't know. What he doesn't know won't hurt him.

"I . . . I uh– actually don't plan on telling him about it, I don't think he needs to know." You're not really sure if does, also it would be a hell of a lot embarrassing knowing Carl knows that you asked one of his friends about what he thought of you.

"Well, if you're gonna do that just make sure you make it right, okay? He seems like he wouldn't be too grumpy about that, but maybe a little." Maggie tries assuring you, standing up and brushing you hair in passing.

What she says gives you a little assurance, but it doesn't outweigh the fact that you're about to lie to Carl; not by saying something but the opposite actually. Lying by omission had never felt so burdening.

"I'll try." You finish you last spoon and head to the sink. Glenn and Maggie seemed to be readying to go outside. Maybe they were going on a walk together? You're not sure.

"Good. Also don't forget to dry that plate okay? You're thinking too much. From what i've read, it's bad for pretty girls." Glenn tries to joke with you, but it doesn't really work. You thank him for that, despite all the teenage angst you're going through, he still wants to put a smile on your face. It makes you heart feel a little lighter.

"I got it, now go away. Let me wallow in my self pity while I wash the dishes." You joke back with them, both parties laughing a little. Even if you're still feeling bad, all that pep talk with them gave you a feeling of determination. You had to get to the bottom of this before it all came crashing down before you.

You look back at the couple, seeing them walk out the door hand in hand with one another, having such a caring gaze for each other. Observing them made you question you and Carl. Did you want that with him? And if you did, did he also feel the same?

Walking to Mikey's house was an interesting experience, to say the least. With a mantra of affirmations in your mind that spans to saying "everything is gonna be okay" , "don't panic, it's not a big deal" and rubbing your hands up and down your arms a dozen times you're sure you could start a fire by doing it, you finally reach Mikey's house.

It helps you realize you don't even have a plan on what to say. Really, what were you gonna say? 'Hey Mikey, I just wanted to know if Carl said anything about me? Not to dump anything on you but i've been sneaking into his room and making out with him these past few months and his father caught us 2 weeks ago and now im panicking.'?

You rethink your choices, starting to backtrack your decision. But sometimes you just have to calm down— grin and bear it for the sake of needing to get to the bottom of this, before you spiral into a fit of hysteria and isolation.

Your knocks on the door are firm but hesitant, and not long after you see your friend's familliar face. Mikey seemed surprised, and you understood why. You guys were never really that close with one another, with you choosing to hang out with Enid (cause she seemed to understand you too) and him hanging out with Carl and the other boys in the walls. It's justified that he'd be looking like a deer in headlights at the sight of you at their front door.

"Oh, you're the last person I expected to see here. Not in a bad way though, heh. Hey Y/N, you need anything?" Even with the shocked feeling he has, he seems to recover it quickly, putting on a more welcoming, friendly expression.

"Yeah actually, uh— can I come in? I need to talk to you about someone, privately." Your voice comes out meek, frazzled because you haven't really thought out how this conversation would go.

"Uh yeah sure! Come in, come in. I'll uh- I'll ask my father if he's fine with it though, he's just out back and I think he'd be fine with having you over. While i'm talking to him, make yourself at home, okay?" Mikey scrambles to get his words out, it's obvious he feels awkward. But it doesn't stop him from trying to just make it seem like two friends (that's pushing it, better word for you and him would be acquaintances) hanging out. You thank him silently for that, trying to make it seem less awkward than it actually is.

With him going out the back door, you're left to your own devices in his living room. You look around, and there doesn't seem to be anything that interesting. It just looks like any other upper-class house you'd see in Alexandria.

You try to make yourself feel home, sitting down on the couch. Moving from multiple positions on the comfortable cushions, you give up and just fiddle with your fingers. For what feels like an eternity, in his living room, Mikey and his father come in and his father greets you in passing before settling in a chair in the kitchen, busy doing something you can't really see. But before you can really think about it, Mikey comes in and sits next to you.

"I have a glimmer of an idea on why you're here, but I won't say anything unless you want me to." Mikey leans back, getting comfortable. You're confused. How would he of all people know what you were gonna tell him about? It made you feel like you should bite the bullet and ask.

"No it's okay, I wanna know." You urge him. If he did know about who you were gonna talk about, how obvious were the two of you?

"I'm guessing it's because of a certain long haired boy? Just a guess though." His words seem to say he's just guessing, but his tone says otherwise. He sounded teasingly, like he knew something you didn't.

"Shit, was it that obvious? It's just— okay let me think about it, I'm just confused. He seems like he cares about me, but he never really wanted to talk about us. Like what we were. We're something, well we were." That's all you could say before your mind went blank. Thinking about all this is making you go stupid at this point.

"Well since you both seem and look like trainwrecks, i'll talk for you." Mikey knew what you needed right now, and that was for someone to tell you just straight up what was happening.

"You and Carl aren't just friends, okay? You and him may think that, but friends don't act like that with each other and act like it's nothing." Your friend's word seem to reach to you, telling you what needed to be done.

"We're friends, right? You and me? We don't do that. That's different. You and him have something different than friends. It's more than that, Y/N. And if you can't get that through your thick head, i'm not sure how you'll end up." Mikey finishes. He thinks his words got to you, and it did. You feel grateful, really. Despite it being blunt and straightforward, you got the message he was trying to send. You know what you have to do now.

"Wow, that's— huh. Thanks for that, Mikey. It means a lot, even if you unintentionally did refer to me as a numbskull." The joke you let out lightens the mood, putting a mood on both of your expressions. You realize you're lucky to have a friend like Mikey, he's not afraid to tell you straight up when you need something said.

"So since that's out of the way, wanna play videogames? I got something you might like." Mikey suggests. Even if you weren't that close to him, he still wanted to be civil with you. Given his inquiry, you didn't think it would hurt to play videogames with him, even if it was just for an hour or two.

You follow him up the stairs, but before you could make it up halfway with him, a firm knock at the door stops the both of your movements. You look at eachother, obviously curious.

"Stay here. It's probably just my father's friend or something asking about him."

He jogs down the steps, hesitant to open it but when he does, his shoulders drop in relief.

"Oh Carl, what are you doing here? You need something?" Mikey asks. With the stairs directly in front of the door, you tilt your head to the side, to see the long-haired brunet you'd been avoiding all this time.

"I was looking for Y/N actually, have you seen her?" Carl was asking. He seemed urgent, with a frantic aura to him, but his face was controlled. Before Mikey could answer Carl had finally found you, catching your gaze. You were on the stairs, looking like a deer in headlights. How did he know you were here? But weird enough, why does he look so rushed?

Carl seemed as confused as you. Why were you with Mikey? Why were you guys alone together? And why does it look like you were just going down from his room? Too many questions and no answers was gonna send Carl into a downward spiral. All these thoughts and no conclusion. He'll have to ask you later, 'cause he's going to die surely if it eats away at him from the fact that he'll keep thinking about it. It makes him feel such an unfamilliar feeling that he hasn't felt in a while; like venom coursing in his veins and his blood piping hot, he knew it in himself that he was jealous.

"Oh she's right here actually," Mikey turns so his body's facing you slightly. "You need her right now?" Mikey's question is starting to sound a lot more like earlier, with and underlying tease and knowing look.

Carl seems to pause at the question. Mikey's simple question feels like a more complicated one to him. To explain how much he needs her, he'd have to dive into an ocean's worth deep of words he's been meaning to say. But he'd rather open that can of feelings another time, preferrably with Y/N. Right now, all he wants to do is to speak with her.

"Yea can I actually talk to her? It's important." No matter what Mikey says, either way he'll get Y/N out of that house. It's killing him inside, he doesn't know why you've been so distant lately. The variable of your presence becoming absent in his routine for the past few weeks has left him dumbfounded. He needed to know what was wrong— or else it'll destroy him.

Before Mikey could even utter a proper response, Carl pushes past him and grabs your arm firmly, but gentle enough that he doesn't hurt you. His action befuddles you. First; he looks like a headless chicken trying to find you, and second; he's dragging you out of Mikey's house hurriedly. What could be so urgent that he needed to up and pull you out?

Your heart was in your mouth, unable to say anything. What would you say even? Carl was pulling you out of Mikey's house, and to the direction of his, were you supposed to ask why? You were frazzled, but all you could think about was how careful he was holding you hand. By the time he dragged you out of the house, his hand intertwined with yours, be it a habit or reassurance to him. That simple action made your heart leap out of you chest.

With the brisk pace he was walking with, you made it to his porch in record time. To add more flush to your cheeks, you see his father, Rick at the porch steps— looking at you both knowingly. It seems like he could tell you were tongue tied, and chose not to say anything else to save you the embarrassment (he'd do it later instead).

Walking quick to his room, he pulls you in and locks the door. He turns to you, standing face to face. You want to say something, so badly. But knowing if you would, you'd open up a pandora's box worth of words you'd been meaning to say. So you start slow.

"I wanna start off with i'm sorry, okay? Listen, it's just i'm really worried about us," Carl softens his gaze and walks closer to you. "—and I don't even know what we are anymore."

He grabs your hand and aligns it with his. "What are we, Carl?" As you ask, you watch him. It's cute, watching him observe your hand difference. It's as if he's trying to stall what storm is about to come. He then close his hand, intertwining it between the gaps of yours.

"We're friends, right?" He assures, he looks so pitiful, eyes pleading with you not to let this dam of unspoken words open into a whirlwind of emotions he desperately wanted not to let out.

"Are we really?" You barely say above a whisper. Are you really just friends? With all that happened with you and him, you guys are just platonic? It makes your heart shatter thinking that.

"Carl what you do— what we do isn't just friends. I'm sorry but I can't deal with it if it's just being friends with you." Your face falters, showing a more betrayed expression.

Carl thinks he's pathetic. He swore to himself that he'd never let anyone or anything make you upset, but he never thought he would be the cause of it. It makes his eyes teary, but he'd rather get eaten alive by walkers than show you how much he's been holding in.

"I. . ." Carl hesitates. ". . . I don't want to be just friends with you." Him confessing that makes you doe-eyed, what did he mean by that?

"It's just— everyone I love always leaves." Before he can even register it, his hot tears spill out of his eyes. He's embarrassed, and looks down to hide it.

"I can't lose anybody else." Despite him looking down and his voice low, it's enough for you to hear. You felt stupid now. All this time he was trying to protect you. He felt as if he was magnet of death and chose to love and cherish you from a distance instead, no matter how much it makes his heart feel unsatisfied.

"I— I can't anymore." Carl barely says between his cries. Carl felt silly. Here he was, crying in front of the person he wanted and needed so badly just because he couldn't possibly have her. If he had to choose one word to name his state right now, it would be desperate.

But what you do next is something he never expected you would do. You use your free hand to lift his chin up and wipe away at his tears, still looking at his teary-eyed gaze. Your other hand that was holding his closes, finally reciprocating the action. And what you say next sends his heart going a hundred miles per minute.

"I'm not leaving anytime soon, okay? I care about you too much to do that."

Carl felt special. The one and only person he genuinely wants to be with feels the same, the feeling was mutual. All of it makes his heart feel like it's gonna jump out of his throat. With hesitant movement, you chastely kiss the stains that had been left from his sobbing. Everything Carl was feeling right now made him so overjoyed, it made him lethargic.

With a hesitant hand, he returns the action by caressing the side of your face, looking into your gaze before nervously asking her what he's been meaning to say all this time.

"I love you, okay? I wanna be—" He sighs before he could finish, and shuts his eyes in focus before opening them to look at you once again. He's hesitant, would him saying this ruin everything? You look to him curiously. What now?

"I wanna be your boyfriend." He concludes. All of a sudden you feel your body feel so much lighter. Him stating that made you feel so happy, wanting to jump for joy 'cause everything was going right.

Carl looked nervous, like he would break any second. It was adorable, really. Normally you would be the one doe-eyed and shy from your interactions, but now the roles reversed. You figured it wouldn't be so bad, him looking like that, eyes glassy and pitiful. You couldn't deny how even in his state, he looks so cute.

". . .Okay." You finally say as you smile. The moment you say that, it's like a switch flips with him. He still looked teary-eyed, but he looks ten times more happy. He holds you face in his free hand and asks the other question he's been dying to ask.

"That's— that's great! I- uhm, can I kiss you?" Nervous and skittish, he manages to let out a jumble of words. Even so, you vehemently nod at him.

Carl goes in slowly, trying to gauge your reaction, eyes going to your lips then to you, before he goes in completely to close the space. It feels like heaven, his lips on yours. Just like clockwork, his hands hesitate on your waist. It makes you relax, knowing no matter how many times you kiss, he'll always end up bashful. It makes you smile into the kiss.

Feeling bold, you gently push him back on the edge of his bed, making him sit while you hover on him to keep you as close to him as you need to. He looks so perfect; him sitting on the edge of his bed, looking up at you, pleading eyes begging for you to come back into his space.

With languid, calculated movements, you place yourself on one of his thighs and go back in to capture his lips with yours again. He blushes at this; with the extended amount of time you'd been apart from one another, he's gonna have to get used to you all over again and your touch.

But just like last time you saw each other, you get interrupted. You both hear a loud, firm knock, before an unnecessary amount of wriggling of the door.

You practically jump off one another, before you both come up to the door, with you slightly behind Carl.

The door unlocks and you expect to see Rick, but unexpectedly, you're met with Michonne at the entrance.

"You kids good in there? You seemed pretty silent." Michonne asks. She seemed to know what was going on, but proceeded to ask anyway.

"Yeah– uh-huh, I was just talking to her uh– Y/N." Carl quickly says. But his defense seems to make it a whole lot worse.

"Oh you're talking. All right, i'll stop buggin' ya. Enjoy your talk." Michonne looks at you, letting your already flushed face get even warmer from the implications she was trying to tell you, and then to Carl, who was trying to regulate his breathing, all while Michonne was growing a smirk on her face. She proceeds to close the door, leaving you and him to bask in the shy atmosphere that had been created.

". . .So you wanna make out some more?" You ask. You know you should be shy about it, but there's no use beating around the bush, especially when you want him to touch you so badly all over again.

"Hell yeah." Carl says before grabbing you by the waist and kissing your lips once again. Kissing you with your hands on his shoulders and his hands rubbing circles on your waist, he knows one thing for sure.

He'll never get tired of this.

BONUS ೀ⋆⑅˚

"Oh they're smooching it on alright." Michonne reports to Rick, seemingly teasing the teen pair that wasn't there to defend themselves.

He had asked her if she could go up and see what they were doing, not that he didn't trust his son and his friend or whatever she was to him, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to make a precaution. They didn't want another baby Judith situation after all.

"Ah. . . good, thanks." Rick looks back at Michonne then to the neighbourhood. He has an unreadable expression on his face. Michonne takes note of this, though.

"Trust me, with how shy Y/N is and how emotionally constipated your son is, you won't have to worry about another baby Jude in a good long while." She pats his back, reassuring him.

He silently thanks her, trying to believe what she's saying. But with how loose discipline is with the state of the world, He doesn't know how much that statement holds up when none of them know what they're like behind closed doors.

You'll never know until you find out.

oh wow, this one was a long fic, huh? I hope the wait was worth it guys, I really liked how this turned out ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و also the end bonus was just a silly little thing, i'm not sure if I would want to expand on it, it was just a throwaway line that sounded ominous and i'm a sucker for that :3 anyways ty for all of the support you've been giving me, I can't believe it honestly— I just want to thank all of you lovelies ! stay tuned and tell me if you want to be tagged next time I post !

what did you think ? don't be a silent reader and let me know ! °ʚ(´꒳`)ɞ°

tags : @carlslvr

#carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x you #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead x reader #𓂃🖊 — florette's fics

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the-archxr · 7 days ago

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forever is the sweetest con

bucky barnes x afab!reader

summary: you and bucky might not have forever, but at least you have each other.

content: 18+, mdni. porn with plot; implied slow-burn, will they/won’t they/right-person-wrong-time bullshit; avoidant attachment behaviour (jumpscare, I know); angst; coworkers/friends to…something more…?; mutual yearning/pining; fingering; semi-public sex—an attempted quickie; love confessions—this shit is very romantic.

a/n: *gif isn’t mine, its from pinterest* reputation, specifically dress, was on repeat when I wrote this. take from that what you will.

word count: 4.6k

main m.list

•••

It had been three years since you last saw him.

Three years, almost down to the day, since you decided that your days as an Avenger were coming to an end.

Sam had donned the shield, and somehow, that was enough for you to officially head into retirement. A final closing of the chapter on your bygone era. For good, this time. No more owed favours or defences left to join.

It was the first time in your life you had ever felt so certain.

Until he asked you to stay.

Three years ago, Bucky—shrouded in smoke and strobing ambulance lights, smelling of diesel and earth—asked you if there was any harm in staying.

His timing was a bit odd, having waited until you were in your car before finally laying it all out on the line.

Or maybe it was perfect.

Because ever since then, you’ve thought about his question—about him.

If your seatbelt hadn’t been fastened, you might not have driven away. You just might have actually stayed.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

Because of this, you always told yourself that if you ever saw him again, it would be different. He would be different. You told yourself he would not be the same Bucky you traded for a life of peace.

But with the way he’s looking at you now—across the gilded room, eyes finding yours around every moving body—you can’t help but be unnerved.

This isn’t what you planned for.

Bucky looks at you in the exact same way he did all those years ago. Tender. Raw.

A small circle of oblivious partygoers beside you attracts your attention. Their laughter and clinking glasses bubble, becoming one with the rest of the crowd as they stumble off.

With the distraction gone, you finally braved looking back across the room.

Needing to find his gaze, if only one more time, was instinctual at this point. Something you couldn’t suppress, even if you tried.

And fuck, have you tried.

You scan the room, looking at faces and exposed hands, drinks and smiles. But Bucky is nowhere to be found.

He disappeared just as quickly as he had come, and you know that it’s because of you.

Propped up in the corner alone, entirely too sober, and visibly uncomfortable, you become painfully aware of yourself.

But maybe this is your karma. Maybe this is why your circumstances are so unfortunate—you weren’t even supposed to be here in the first place. Technically, the gala invitation had been meant for your boss. But you were eager to impress. Like, somehow you had to ‘prove’ your normalcy.

But you didn’t have to. You had it.

You just became too overzealous.

Icarus flew too close to the sun, and you accepted filling in for your boss on a networking gig that you really should’ve asked more questions about.

And now you have to face the consequences.

“It’s kind of you to hold up the wall.”

Your body goes cold. Erratic fingers now remain frozen in place.

When you turn, you see that Bucky is already smiling at you, two flutes of champagne in hand. “Hi, —.”

You take a shaky breath. “Hi, Bucky.”

Up close, you can confirm that he really looks no different than when you left. You figured that your eyes were just playing tricks on you earlier, imagining things. For your sake, you hoped that if you saw him again—face to face, wandering eye to wandering eye—he’d be unrecognizable.

But, no. He just looks like Bucky—your Bucky.

That fact feels more like a curse than a blessing right now.

The two of you stand in silence, unsure of what to say or if you should even say anything at all. You opt to busy yourself with the lines on the parkade floor instead.

“Thought you’d never be caught dead at one of these again.” He says the words like they’re an inside joke. You have to remind yourself to breathe.

“It’s a work thing”, you respond flatly. “I honestly didn’t know it was for you guys.”

Bucky sips at his drink, warily maintaining eye contact with you. “I’m glad you’re here, though,” Bucky eventually says. The shyness in his voice surprises you. “It’s really…really good to see you, —.”

You don’t respond, but you manage to force a little smile. Measured. Pleasant. Evidence of you being on your best behaviour. Besides your roaming eyes, at least.

Unfortunately, they’re not as controlled as you’d like them to be.

But, if push comes to shove, you could always blame tradition.

You and Bucky have an unspoken agreement. A ritual, of sorts, that you rely on during moments like this. Observe and pretend.

If your years in SHIELD taught you anything, it was how to watch and how to see with the briefest of passing glances.

Visual study is light work for trained government agents.

But when it comes to this—when it involves the two of you, and whatever it is that you guys are—it’s not so simple. It’s more than just observing how time passed shows on each other’s skin.

It’s about taking the time to commit everything you see to memory.

To document it all—the slick-backed hair curling behind his ear, the flecks of grey in his beard, the eyes that darken in the moody amber light—and lock it away. Keep it safe for some lonely night in the future where all you can do is ruminate, and the only thing you can think about is ‘what if’.

“…You look good,” you say wistfully. A mindless and stupid act on your part. Heat floods your face, forcing your eyes down. “I-I meant, you look like you’re doing good.”

Bucky chuckles. The sound of it makes you ache.

“Thanks. I’ve, uh, actually been getting some sleep, so I’ve been feeling a lot better.” You nod and take a drink. “You look good, too, by the way. …Beautiful, actually.”

The champagne in your stomach threatens to come back up. Bucky, though, is none the wiser—still looking at you, soft and fond.

With rolled back shoulders and a straightened spine, you clamour to change the subject. “You’ve, uh, been busy, too—lately, it seems.”

Mindless. Stupid.

Bucky clears his throat. “Who knew, right? …One minute I’m wanted by the state, then the next—“

“You’re an Avenger,” you continue. “And a Congressman.”

A sly grin forms on his face. One, he doesn’t even try to hold back. “Have you been stalking me, Ms. —?”

You roll your eyes and bite back a familiar grin. “You wish, Barnes. I just have a strong internet connection and a knack for boredom-fuelled curiosity.”

“A deadly combination,” Bucky hums into his glass.

In trying to suppress the wide smile breaking free, you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. The sting is a good stabilizer.

“So, what about you?”

When you look up to meet his eyes, you realize that the two of you have been gradually getting closer. Another annoyingly instinctual response.

You try not to give the sparking in your chest too much attention.

“—How’s retirement been treating you?” Bucky asks.

You hesitate for a moment, unaware of how to sum up the past three years of your life.

“Um…good.” The word feels wrong immediately. “Quiet,” is your correction.

“Quiet, huh?” Bucky looks away briefly, over to a boisterous group in the centre of the room. From the slight fondness in his features, you assume they’re likely his new team. “Well, that’s—I’m glad. That’s what you always wanted, right?”

You nod despite him not looking your way.

Bucky shifts his weight from one foot to another, still lost in thought. Then, slowly, they travel back to you and settle on your hands. “And, is it…just…you?”

“…You mean, am I seeing someone?”

Bucky’s shoulders fall back against the wall. He gulps, too, although he tries to hide that more. “I’m just…curious,” he says a bit defensively. “I didn’t—I don’t see a ring. That’s why I’m asking.”

“You were looking for a ring? Congressman…” you tease.

Bucky’s smile is genuine, but it still doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I just happened to notice. Don’t flatter yourself, doll.”

The nickname—a simple word that, at the end of the day, you’d hate if it came out of anybody else’s mouth—hits you hard. It makes your stomach twist, and your hands shake, and your mouth go dry.

It also makes you want to beg him to say it again.

You polish off the rest of your drink, which at this point has gone flat. Then, quietly, you say, “No, I’m not seeing anyone—not right now. …Not anymore.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Bucky stiffen. A fist clenches at his side, and his eyes shut for a few seconds before he seemingly releases himself. Guilt cramps in your stomach at the sight.

A guilt for what? You’re not entirely sure.

You don’t even know if you should be telling him this. If it even matters. If at this point it’s morally right to do so, or just plain cruel.

All you know is that you’ve never been able to hide anything from Bucky. Even when your insides scream at you to turn away, to run and hide, to forget you ever saw him.

“…His name was Connor. We, um, dated for two years.”

Bucky’s silent. You wait. It’s painful. Your lungs can’t hold onto air for the life of you, and your fingers are sore from being constantly picked at.

“Was he…” Bucky takes a harsh breath. “Was he good to you?”

His words force you to pause and collect yourself. “Yeah. He was. Actually, Connor was kind of perfect, in a way. He was kind, a-and attractive, and funny, and he always tried to bring me breakfast in bed on Sundays. …He just…he had a wonderfully quiet life.”

Bucky hardly makes a sound, but you know that he’s listening. You know that he’s just taking the time to digest all that you’ve said.

Out loud, speaking of Connor feels like admitting to a long-kept secret. And the thought makes you sick. He was the longest relationship you’ve ever had—by no means a secret. You lived together. You had a life together.

But it was a life that Bucky didn’t get to witness. A life you made sure he wasn’t a part of—in any capacity.

That fact alone nearly disables you.

Bucky has his bottom lip tucked behind his teeth, gnawing on the flesh nervously. His voice cracks when he goes to speak. “Why’d you break up? If you don’t mind me asking…”

“We stopped understanding each other, I guess. He wanted to do more with his career, and…after everything I’ve seen and done, the plans he had, they just… Like I said, we didn’t understand each other anymore.” Your voice trails off. You unintentionally end up mimicking Bucky’s slumped figure.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whispers.

You shrug plainly. “It is what it is.”

A waiter comes by, collecting both of your empty glasses before hurrying off into the party. You end up going back to spinning the gold ring around your finger. “What about you, Barnes—are you seeing anyone special?”

You offer Bucky a friendly smile, even though the thought of him with someone else makes you physically ill.

“No.”

Your heart leaps. Shame immediately crawls in from behind your ribs.

“No one?” The shock in your voice is evident. “…Not even dating?”

Bucky shakes his head gently. “I think in the past three years, I’ve been on a total of…two dates? Neither one got very far.” Your jaw falls open just enough to grab his attention. “…Is something wrong?”

“N-no! No, I just…I’m surprised, that’s all. Surprised that no one would…you know…”

He turns against the wall on his shoulder, closing whatever distance was left. The air was thinning; muddled with all the nagging thoughts and feelings you keep stifling.

“I never said I didn’t date because no one has been interested in me,” Bucky says simply. “I don’t date because I don’t want to.”

You can’t help yourself from asking ‘why’. And, at this point, you’re convinced your curiosity has a mind of its own. Like it’s completely set on orchestrating your downfall.

Bucky hesitates, gears visibly turning in his head. Until his eyes flash to yours, something sure and smouldering within them. “I guess I’ve just been too busy holding on.”

“Holding on to what?” You echo.

“Hope.”

Your mind skips—a broken record, a preemptive warning.

Turn away. Stop. Go back. Turn away.

“Hope is a dangerous thing to have,” you find yourself saying.

“It’s a damning thing to have,” Bucky concludes. Between you, a calloused hand attempts to reach out; fingers brushing your knuckles without any hesitation. “It’s hard to want someone else when I’m hoping for you.”

It’s not that time slows down or speeds up in that moment. You just become more aware of it.

As if, suddenly, your body is completely and wholly cognizant of everything. Of where you are, of what you’re wearing, of the blood pounding in your ears, of the pinky touching yours, of the earthy scent that makes your chest contract.

You’re exposed, and it’s because of him.

It’s all because of him.

When you first became friends, you found it kind of funny that you got along so well, that you guys just clicked. He understood you better than anyone else had before, and he’s been the only one to truly know you like that ever since.

Hope is a damning thing—his words.

The light refracting from the chandelier above is dimmed by Bucky’s shadow. It looms over you, but never cages you. He’s still giving you the chance to run.

The freedom only makes it that much harder on you.

Blinking back an onslaught of tears, you will yourself to look him in the eye. “Do you…remember what I said to you—that night, wh-when you asked me to stay?”

A pause.

“You, uh…you said we were ‘too smart’ for ideas like that,” Bucky answers quietly. So quiet that you’re surprised you can still hear him.

You’re nodding before you speak. “Well…that’s what I’m saying to you now.”

A loud roaring laugh passes by your sheltered corner. It kills you a little to see people so elated while you stand here and break the love of your life’s heart all over again.

Bucky holds his breath. You see it in his chest—the expansion, the stillness.

“—…”

“No—Bucky, please.” You wince. “…It doesn’t work out for people like us. Right? You—you know that…”

The man in question frowns, a sad acceptance.

You always swore you had a strong resolve. A thick backbone. You had to in order to be a SHIELD agent-turned-Avenger.

Whether your time out of the game had turned you soft, or if it was just Bucky’s presence, you’re not sure. But as you acknowledge yours and Bucky’s hurt, your resolve crumbles.

It hurts to encourage the pain. But you reason now—as you have had to many times before—that it’s for the best. That this is the right thing to do.

The responsible thing.

“Because of what we do, who we are, this—this would never work. It has never ended well. …We’d only be hurting ourselves in the end, Buck. It’s—it’s not worth it.”

“…Connor was worth it, though, right?” Bucky’s words are sharp, cutting. They scar you right where you stand.

“Bucky—“

“I’m just saying, —. You sit here and talk about being smart a-and how distance and all that is good. You know, sounding exactly like how I used to—“ At this point, the man is gasping for air. “But…but you fall in love with someone else? Two years of your life, —; was that not worth it?”

“It was worth it! Because at least I knew that every time he left the house, he was coming back,” you snap.

Silence.

Bucky’s eyes are a marvel: big and watery and as wildly blue as a stormy ocean. “What makes you think I wouldn’t come back home to you?”

The sound you make then is agonizing. “You can’t guarantee that.”

Without warning, Bucky places a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’re right,” Bucky whispers into your hairline. Your eyes involuntarily flutter, as if doing so could allow you to feel the gesture tenfold. “But I can promise you that I would try.”

You want to tell him that it’s not enough. Being an Avenger doesn’t allow for the same liberties as everyone else. Death and loss, and irrevocable change are all part and parcel. Commitment, partnership, love—they don’t belong in that lifestyle.

At least you and Connor had the luxury of stability, of reassurance. But with Bucky, the act of being in love is a terrifying one.

Loving Bucky is easy, despite what he says. But being in love with him, consciously choosing to love him, takes a lot of inner strength.

But you’re selfish.

You’re selfish to fall in love with someone while they’re falling in love with you. You’re selfish to test the waters, only to run in the other direction at the first sight of a rippling wave. You’re selfish to hope, even slightly, that Bucky would wait for you after all this time.

“If I allow myself to love you, I won’t be able to let you go.” Your lowly confession successfully slips through the chinks in your armour. It hangs heavy in the air once it’s free, and you’re entirely too tired to rein it back in.

Bucky hands still on your shoulders, holding you as he tries to meet your eyes.

“I don’t want you to.”

He looks at you like you’re everything. You look back at him because you know he is.

You let out a breathy laugh. “Since when did you become good at having emotional conversations?”

“Since you became so damn bad at it," he replies without missing a beat.

Bucky’s smile almost triggers yours. Almost. You’re still terrified of the reality that stands before you.

It’s a scary thing to care about something this much that you innately anticipate losing it.

Because those two things—love and loss—go hand-in-hand. They’re inseparable. One can’t exist without the other.

“…Will we regret this?”

Bucky sighs. “Maybe.” Hands delicately cradle your face. Careful, yet unafraid. “…But not right now.”

His face is so very close to yours, champagne lingering on his breath. You expect to move, to cross that line. But he doesn’t.

He waits.

Your mind fires off reservations, fears, worries, unaddressed concerns and technicalities that you’re sure you’ll feel tomorrow.

Not right now.

The first kiss is soft. A feather-light touch; skin on skin. It’s hesitant, not scared. An effort of held-back anticipation rather than apprehension.

Bucky, the old-fashioned gentleman that he is, is the first to pull away. He keeps a safe distance: far enough where he gets to measure your reaction, yet still satisfy whatever desire he has to be as close to you as possible.

It’s you who pulls him back in.

The second kiss is firm. It exhibits a hunger, a desperation that could only be triggered by starvation. With a few nips to his lower lip and your hand clawing at his chest, you hope to tell him just how badly you need this.

Bucky backs you up into the wall, both hands—hot flesh and cold metal—holding your face still as he prods at your mouth. You scratch at his face, letting the thin skin of your palms become familiar with the feel of his scruff.

You want to feel more. You need to feel more.

But you’re also acutely aware that your environment isn’t ideal.

“Buck,” you kiss the warning into his upper lip. He chases you with his mouth. Another kiss. “Congressman, we’re in public.”

Bucky groans. It’s hearty, it reverberates. It instantly shoots down to your core. “‘M not waiting. Don’t think you want to either, doll—not with how you’re kissin’ me.” Teeth nip at the edge of your ear.

The whole thing is disorienting. Enough to make you rip his clothes off then and there, without a second thought.

Except, fucking like rabbits in the middle of a government-funded gala wasn’t a responsible thing to do.

That didn’t mean fucking was completely off the table, though.

“You have any other ideas, Barnes…?”

•

In a matter of minutes, after a balancing act of evading his team, Valentina, and a few mostly sober government officials, you and Bucky find yourselves in a bathroom on the other side of the building.

The area had been roped off, guarded by two golden posts corded together, with a sign that read “entry prohibited”. And, based on the sight of the oddly lavish bathroom alone—forest-green walls, dark gold faucets, and glittering black tile—you expect the sign was up for good reason.

Not that it really mattered to either of you.

Bucky had half a mind to lock the door, but he took far too long for your liking. He shakes the handle—just to make sure—while your mouth wanders.

“Looks who’s impatient now.” Lips slot against yours, teeth clacking and noses squished.

You huff. “Shut up, Barnes.”

Bucky takes a turn mapping your neck with his slick, open mouth. “I’d like to make it known, by the way, that this”—a kiss under your ear—“isn’t”—another to the hollow of your throat—“how I imagined our first time to be.”

Intrigue, and maybe a bit of pride, pull at your face like puppet strings. “You’ve thought about this before?” You hum as Bucky kisses the hyper-sensitive junction of your neck. “You’ve got a dirty mind, Congressman.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” is Bucky’s gruff reply.

Without warning, thick arms come up under your thighs and lift you onto the sink. Bucky acts like it’s nothing, manhandling you like that. You, however, aren’t so nonchalant. What once felt like molten lava in your veins had now become a raging fire.

It was a trigger for your more feral desires. Resurfaced thoughts and primitive sensations that only cared about what else he could do to you.

God, you wanted him to do it all.

Impatient fingers start to work at his clothes—peeling off his jacket, loosening his tie, undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. You then yank on his belt and pull him towards you.

Except Bucky is quick to cover your hands with his. “Doll, I need to make sure you want this,” he whispers. “—That you want this as much as I do.”

He gives you the chance to take his request to heart, but you know you don’t even have to think twice about it.

Realized by the weight of him between your legs, you have the sense that you two are freakishly and inexplicably right. After all this time, it honestly feels silly to have imagined the two of you as anything other than inevitable.

“Need you, Bucky. Need you so, so bad,” you whine and kiss the tip of his nose.

He’s back on you in an instant.

As his tongue explores your mouth, his fingers begin to toy with the thin straps of your dress. “Want this off.”

You help him out a bit and slide the satin down your torso. As your bra is revealed, Bucky’s stare intensifies, carefully tracing every curve and clean line.

“There are no straps,” he mumbles eventually.

You shift under his gaze. “Um…what?”

“The straps,” he says. An inquisitive metal finger comes up to the edge of the garment, right where the cup ends and the rounded flesh begins. “Where are they?”

“You—you’ve never seen a strapless bra before?” You giggle as he shakes his head. “It didn’t come with any, Buck. That’s the point.”

“I don’t understand—“

You laugh some more, lazily carding your fingers through his hair. “I’ll tell you more about it later, yeah?” Bucky, although still stumped, nods and lets you guide his head forward.

When you kiss him, he lets out a puff of air. The reaction forces you to smile into his mouth. You try to deepen the kiss, to take charge and move his limbs around you as you please—but you don’t get very far.

The second he picks up on your plan, he becomes committed to leaving you breathless. Even when he abandons your mouth and makes his way down to your chest, you’re practically gasping for air.

With your back arched, desperate for a slight reprieve, you angle your hips forward. The slight movement has you firmly pressing into him.

Bucky groans.

Even between the too-many-layers of fabric, you feel him. All of him. It’s a promise that makes your mouth water and your toes curl.

You roll your hips then—an experiment that has you whining and Bucky going rigid.

“Don’t”—his teeth gritted—“start. We don’t have the time for that, doll.”

Against the arm that aims to keep you still, you move your pelvis over his bulge again. Bucky growls.

“Doll,” he warns.

“God, Buck, just—shit—just do something.”

Upon your command, one hand grabs a fistful of your dress. The fabric is roughly lifted until it’s pooling around your thighs.

Your eyes curiously travel down your contorted body, stopping right where Bucky’s arm—taut flesh over strained veins—disappears.

And then you feel it: thick fingers pulling aside the drenched seam of your underwear.

The man’s forehead rams into yours. “Fuck, you want me dead, don’t you…”

You don’t respond, but not for lack of trying.

He’s just so…warm…and he’s everywhere.

He’s all muscle, and weight, and languid pressure—and god, your heart feels like it’s swelling beyond capacity.

You gasp when he slides a finger through your folds.

Your brain urges you to do something. Tease him; spit out a smart quip. Hell, even slide off the counter and get on your knees.

But you can’t.

Two fingers slip into you then, curling just at the knuckle before partially pulling out, and you go limp. A pliable mess of his doing.

It’s embarrassing how close you already are.

It only becomes more embarrassing when the pad of his thumb starts rubbing tight circles on your clit.

The entire lower half of your body tightens, almost instantly. You’re shaking, panting, and desperate for more.

More Bucky. More friction.

More.

You’re so consumed with needing more, your hips start rocking back and forth on their own accord.

“Buck,” you whimper.

The man in question looks up from the mess he’s made of your chest, and you nearly come on the spot.

Swollen lips, glossy with his own spit. Hazy eyes that are nearly black from blown-out pupils. A cherry-red flush paints the rest of his face.

Fucked out—that’s how he looks.

Content. Blissful. Like he’s somehow enjoying himself more than you.

A muscle in his arm twitches then. What quickly follows is a new pace, a new force in his thrusting fingers that has the knot in your stomach contracting.

“Take whatever you need, doll. Whatever you need, it’s yours,” he says, finally adding a third finger. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream. “Let go, —. I got you.”

Everything within you seizes.

For a moment, it feels like you’re floating. Entirely weightless, as Bucky’s hands help you ride out your orgasm.

As you come to—aching hips stuttering to a stop, vision slowly clearing—Bucky wipes the sweat from your forehead. He keeps his metal hand there like a cold compress, all the while planting delicate kisses into your cheekbone.

“Are you okay?”

You nod despite a frown beginning to brood. “You…you didn’t—“

“Wasn’t the point, doll,” he lets out a breathy chuckle. His nose affectionately bumps yours.

You shake your head. “Want you to feel good, though.”

Bucky just smiles—all dopey and light. “I do feel good. …Really, really good.”

“But—“

“Why don’t we make it up later? Can show each other just how good we feel…” his voice lowers, returning to that gravelly tone that makes you ache all over again.

Your first instinct is to fight him on this. But, instead, you bite your tongue.

“Fine,” you say. “As long as I get to make it up to you first.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #mcu x reader #mcu smut #marvel mcu #marvel #thunderbolts #the winter soldier #new avengers #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader smut #the-archxr writes

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misasimagines · 3 months ago

Text

good puppy / reader x Caleb (Love and Deepspace)

included characters: Caleb!

rating: NSFW! This is smut.

warnings: Caleb is a bit toxic, reader is scolding him for his bad behavior at the start. Um petplay-ish. Caleb is your dog. Top!Reader, NOT GN!, female reader. almost 5k words shhhhh its a doozy

kicks a rock on the ground demurely and timidly. does anyone wanna play "caleb is a pathetic mess" w/ me....

You were mad at him. It was, unfortunately, not an unusual occurrence. All of his positive qualities could, when taken to the extreme so often as they were, become incredibly negative qualities. Being protective quickly became overbearing. Being helpful became doing everything for you and treating you like a doll. And being reliable became needing to know everything about you at all times no matter what.

When he was good, he was the perfect boyfriend. You had a million pictures of you two being stupidly cute on your phone, you knew he had your back in any conflict no matter how wrong you were, and you were so familiar and comfortable with him that he sometimes felt like he WAS your life, rather than just in it. But when he was bad… you wanted to strangle him. He would do things that he couldn't, or wouldn't, acknowledge as wrong and it drove you insane.

“It's not just about protecting me, Caleb, it's about trying to control me,” you tried to explain, voice tilting louder. You bit it down. You didn't want to yell at him. You had to remind yourself that he wasn't doing anything maliciously, he was just… Caleb.

“I'm not trying to control you, pips,” he implored, “I just… I don't want anyone to take advantage of you. I don't want you to get hurt.” His expression was that of a kicked puppy, all big lilac eyes and slouched posture.

You took a deep breath, “I get that. I get that you want to keep me safe. But you take it too far! You can't trust me to make my own judgments!”

He had made himself a problem when you were out with friends. You told him when you'd be back, where you'd be, and who you'd be with, but he took it upon himself to be in the vicinity of your hang out “just in case.” When he saw a man in your group that hadn't been previously accounted for, he not so discreetly happened to be in the area and came by to see you.

He then all but interrogated the guy under duress when the poor sap offered you his jacket when you said you were cold. The entire thing culminated in a moment where you were seriously scared that Caleb was going to hit the guy, and that guy was not built to withstand a punch from your boyfriend. Afterwards, everyone freaked out about the hostilities and you had to fight for your life to try to return peace to the group.

It was embarrassing apologizing for your boyfriend when the group splintered into two, with half proclaiming Caleb to be out of line and the other half agreeing that he was just being a protective boyfriend. You were sure that at least a few of those people would not be inviting you out again, if only for the risk of Caleb showing up. It was an awful feeling, not so much to be rejected yourself, but to know he was being rejected and he couldn't even see why.

“He wasn't your friend, he was a freak who was looking at you like you were in his Playboy magazine or something! You're just too nice to see it! I had to step in,” He insisted.

“I'm not that naive!” You snapped. “I know he was hitting on me and I was perfectly capable of rejecting his advances on my own. And if he got too pushy, I have a purse FULL of pepper spray and a key chain weighed down by how many sharp things I have attached to it. Which you would know since you put them there.” You crossed your arms and glared at him.

He seemed to wither. He didn't want to offend you. He didn't want you to think he saw you as some weak little damsel. But…maybe he kind of did, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that you weren't. In his eyes, you were impossibly fragile. If he wasn't constantly vigilant, something --or someone-- would break you and take you away from him. It was an all consuming fear that he couldn't rationalize himself out of. “I know… I'm sorry,” he confessed.

You thought an apology would dull your anger, but this time it wasn't enough. It still simmered under your temples, scorching and insistent. This event was one of too many. This argument was one of a million. You shook your head, “I don't think that you are. I don't believe that you won't do the same thing next time I go out.”

“I won't, trust me, I hate making you upset. I'll … I'll back off,” he tried again.

You stared him down and he seemed to shrink even more under your gaze. Sometimes, it seemed like the only time you had the upper hand with him was when he was facing your anger towards him. It shouldn’t be like this. You shouldn't have to threaten him with rage whenever he did wrong. You huffed, “I don't trust that you know how to behave yourself,” you admitted.

Your words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating enough to make you both feel sick from the effect. It made you feel guilty to hurt him but didn't dull the sense of justification in your words. You were sick of it.

On his end, he felt fear. Regret. Remorse. “What can I do to convince you? I need you to forgive me,” he nearly begged.

It was tiring, this back and forth. You sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, arms and legs crossed in an obvious show of reservation towards him. “Short of getting on your knees and begging for forgiveness?” You responded with a snort. “I don't know. I can't keep doing this, Caleb. I can't keep finding excuses for you.” You breathed out a tight breath and spoke quietly, hardly able to believe your own words, “I can't be with someone who doesn't trust me.”

In the next second, he was on his knees. “Please, I'm sorry. Please forgive me, you know I love you, right? You know I just want to take care of you and I know…I take it too far sometimes but it's just because I love you so much. I'm sorry, okay?” he stared up at you with such pathetic earnesty your heart stuttered in your chest. There was a frantic look in his eyes as if he were watching his life fall apart around him. “Please say you'll forgive me and you'll let me keep being with you.”

Caleb's 6’2 frame was barely even diminished by being on his knees, but still he felt infinitesimally smaller. Weaker. He was always above you, looking down and patting your head. Always making grandiose statements about being there for you. Always holding himself to some impossibly high standard and never letting you see him falter. Seeing him like this, on his knees and begging, well… You swallowed and unconsciously clenched your thighs together.

When you didn't respond, his expression became more worried. Brow furrowed, he put his hands on the ground, “I'm so sorry, please forgive me. Tell me what to do and I'll do it, I swear. You know I'll do anything for you. It doesn't matter what you ask for, how impossible it is- I'll do anything you want. Just…please… I can't lose you.”

You exhaled, “It's not the first time you've done something like this.”

“I know.” His voice dropped. You could almost see tears welling in his eyes he was so scared of what you would decide. Those purple irises of his were glossy and blurred and the sight pulled at your heartstrings.

“You're like… a territorial dog.”

His gaze never wavered from your own and his eyes seemed to clear at that pronouncement. Uncertainty gave way to clarity, insistence, “Then I'm your dog. I'll be by your side and protect you with my life forever. I'll do whatever you ask so just tell me how I can do it the way you want.”

You shifted once more, the space between your thighs becoming uncomfortably hot and wet. Normally, Caleb did all the heavy lifting, so to speak, in your intimacy. He initiated, he took care of you, he held you down and plowed you into the mattress until you were drooling and could only remember his name, not your own. You loved it, you loved him, but…the idea of putting him in his place, especially when he was begging for it, made your head swim with possibilities.

Resolved and feeling a pang of anxiety in the pit of your stomach at your own boldness, you leaned forward, uncrossing your legs and resting your elbows on your knees. “You want forgiveness? Then come here, dog,” you demanded, keeping your eyes as steely and focused as possible.

His face flushed. Seemingly, even as he begged for you, he must not have expected such a response. Your heart hammered in your chest as you wondered if he'd back out, find a way to turn this back into your normal dynamic with him on top, with him in control. You wondered if you even wanted him to obey, if this wasn't too much responsibility, too different from what you were used to. Seconds passed and you doubted yourself, prepared to pull back with an apology and an excuse-

But with red filling his cheeks, he hung his head and crawled towards you, slowly and with the weight of his own humility on his back.

You could have moaned on the spot if you were any weaker.

He stopped in front of you, head bowed right before your knees.

You put your hand out towards him. He reached out with his own to hold it and you swatted it away without any verbal command. Truly, you weren't sure you had the strength. This was uncharted territory for the both of you.

He stared at you, eyes wide and completely aware of what you wanted. He put his hand back down on the ground and took a slow breath.

Caleb shut his eyes and pushed his head up against your hand like a dog.

You gave his hair a ruffle, letting your nails rake gently across his scalp, “Good boy,” you praised, your voice breathy as you remembered how to breathe. His hair was soft under your fingers and the way his head fit against the palm of your hand felt natural.

The tips of his ears burned as red as his face. It obviously took a lot of effort for him to let himself be in such a position. But it was for you, and he promised he'd do anything for you no matter how humiliating.

“Are you going to behave?” You asked him, letting your voice drop into an almost musical condescension. The question was a part of the act, but also the offer to let him back out. The last chance he had before you both accepted his role for the night.

He couldn't form words --he wasn't even sure if they were allowed as a dog-- so he nodded and prayed you'd accept it. There was no question in his mind whether he'd go through with this. He was yours, completely and without condition. If you wanted him to be a perfect boyfriend, he'd be your perfect boyfriend. If you wanted him to be strong and commanding, he’d be strong and command you. And if you wanted him to be a dog, he was your dog.

His agreement made your heart settle. You weren't forcing him, he wanted this. You decided to be kind to him, petting his hair, letting him be a silent and obedient pet for a moment. Unconsciously, he lulled into your touch, his eyes closed and the tension fading from his shoulders. You hummed praises towards him then let your fingers drift down to cup his cheek and raise his eyes towards yours. “How is my dog going to make it up to me?” You asked him, propping his chin up on your fingers and making him look up at you.

His eyes were dark, but not the way they were when he was upset. They were filled with adoration and devotion and something undeniably primal. “I'll do whatever you want. Always,” he promised, voice devoid of any of that embarrassment you'd have expected to be there. It was composed and serious and controlled.

It took every ounce of control in you to not fold right there, to give him free reign over you the way you always did. The way you knew you liked it. You could already imagine him caging you in, his arms on either side of you as he plowed you into the mattress and growled about how well you were taking him.

But you could have that any day. This was far more rare.

You pulled back your hand, ran it up over your thigh and pulled your skirt up higher. Letting your legs part, you looked down at him, “Make yourself useful on your knees, then.”

With your permission, he leaned forward, head between your legs, hands reaching up to grab your thighs and pull you closer to his face. You allowed him to hook your knees over his shoulders, allowed him to lean in and disappear under your skirt, allowed him to lick you over your underwear. He groaned shamelessly at the taste of you.

You bit down on your lip to muffle yourself, knowing your silence would drive him insane. He would have to work for every treat he could get.

Caleb pressed his tongue to your clothed cunt. One of his hands snaked around your thigh to hold you open enough to keep him fitted there. The other rubbed you over your panties, the cotton growing wetter and heavier from your slick and his saliva.

You were too eager to feel his tongue against you to wait, “Just- just take them off,” you ordered.

He pulled away long enough to respond, “Yes, ma’am,” and then tugged your panties down your legs, letting you see his flushed face again as he did. His eyes never left your cunt, his hair was ruffled from your hands and skirt and thighs, and his lips were red and wet already. He was a gorgeous sight.

As soon as your underwear was thrown behind him, you grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him back to work.

He didn't need any more permission and immediately licked from your entrance and up in one pointed move. He pressed his tongue flat against your clit as his finger rubbed through your folds to get it wet enough to slide in. As he pushed his finger into you, he kissed your clit with as much gentle, desperate reverence as the first time he kissed you on the lips.

You fell back on the bed, thighs suffocating him, hands anchoring him by the hair.

Working a finger into you, he paid your clit more attention, enough to make your stomach tighten and your toes curl. It was too early to feel overstimulated, but he sucked and licked your little bud with such focus, you had to tug on his hair to get him to ease up. “Slowly, dog,” you moaned out. Whatever this was? You wanted to make it last.

He hesitated in his ministrations. Obviously, he wanted to eat you out like he always did: messy and moaning against your pussy like he was the one getting off. Taking it slow, denying himself the pleasure of your juices squirting onto his face? It wasn't his ideal. Still, he obeyed your orders and shifted below you, settling back slightly. His finger worked back and forth into you, curving and stroking you exactly the way you liked. And he did it all slowly, obediently, and with a tent in his pants that was already uncomfortably tight.

“Good boy,” you praised him again, petting his head as he went down on you. “You're my good boy, aren't you?”

He whined in agreement at the praise and you promised yourself you'd commit that sound to memory.

His finger worked in and out of you slowly and eventually he pressed his cheek against your leg, gave a long kiss to your inner thigh, and looked up at you with eyes completely clouded with desire. “Can I give you more?” He asked.

He punctuated his request with a slow curl of his finger against your insides that made you drop your head back against the bed and moan. “Yes, yes- make me come,” you commanded breathlessly.

With your permission, he pushed another finger into your heat and sped up his motions. He pressed in close again to lick you until you felt your core tightening, your heart racing. “Caleb-” you whined out before you felt the tension snap in you and you coated his hands and lips with your juices.

Heart hammering in your chest, you took deep breaths, rolling your hips against his face as you rode out your orgasm. He stayed where he was, matching your rhythm effortlessly, keeping you at that peak as long as he could. As you came down from it, he kissed your thigh, and then sucked lightly, and then bit hard enough to leave a mark.

A truly obedient dog would have asked before doing that, but the idea of him marking you made your cunt spasm around his fingers.

He only pulled his fingers out when you weakly pushed his head away, and you had to push him the entire way out from under your skirt or you knew he would have stayed there, just waiting for permission to eat you out again. You raised yourself up on your elbows to look at him and bit down a whimper at the sight of his shiny, wet, swollen lips, his tousled and messy hair, and his blown out pupils. His normally soft purple eyes were completely clouded, completely dark, watching you like you were the only thing in the room- no, the only thing in the world. As you looked at him, he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean, eyes never leaving yours.

Truly a filthy dog.

“Good boy, Caleb,” you praised.

His eyes lit up at the praise and he tested your leniency by putting his hands back onto your thighs, “I can do it again,” he offered eagerly, “Let me keep making you feel good.”

“I think I want something else from you,” you teased. “Up, boy,” you sat up and patted the bed next to you.

He hesitated only a second as he tried to understand your words. Already, his brain was turning to pussy drunk mush and it made your heart stutter with adoration. Caleb climbed up onto the bed where you had indicated and looked over at you with the biggest and cutest puppy dog eyes you could imagine.

You couldn't hold back your smile. Your early frustration with him had completely subsided, aided of course by the lingering bliss of your recent orgasm. “Lay down,” you gestured.

You crawled over him slowly and straddled his legs as he laid back down against your pillows. “You're going to keep your hands to yourself for now, got it?” You told him sternly.

Caleb had already been reaching for your hips to pull you closer, to grind you down against him, and now his arms tensed as he considered whether to obey or not. One haughty, arrogant look from you broke his desire to rebel and he dug his fingers into the covers in submission.

His pants were tight around his bulge and you took your time rubbing your palm over the most raised part slowly, just barely giving him any friction. His jaw tensed. You pressed down a little harder and he sucked in a breath at the feeling. If he had been anyone else, you would have expected him to look away in embarrassment, to hide his face in the pillows or with his hands but no- this was Caleb and he wasn't going to let anything stop him from savoring every second of your expressions. He watched you as you stroked him over his jeans and you watched back, a smile light on your lips.

He looked so good when he was being submissive to you. His eyes looked so big and innocent, his lips parted slightly with each breath, his cheeks a pretty pink- Pity you hardly ever saw him like this.

“Is this enough?” You teased, letting your body rock back and forth slightly with your motions.

The sheets were scrunched under his hands so tightly he might have put holes through them. He wanted to say no, but he knew better. He knew what you wanted. “If that's all you want to give me, yes,” he said, his voice somehow both husky and whiny at the same time, like he was holding back the last shreds of his dignity but the desperation was still leaking through.

Your cunt ached. “You would come for me like this?” You leaned down over him, peppering his jaw with kisses, pressing your chest against his and continuing to paw at him through his jeans.

He turned his head in the hope that you'd take pity on him and kiss him, but you just kissed the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth, and smiled innocently at him. “Tell me and I will,” his voice came out more of a whine than anything.

“You don't think that's a waste?” You asked with an exaggerated pout. You pushed yourself back up to straddling him and worked the buttons and zipper of his jeans open.

He groaned, head falling back as you let your hand drift down the waistband of his boxers, “You know I can last more than one round, pips.”

The use of your nickname made you giggle. Even when he was trying to be obedient, trying to be your dog, he had too much pride and ego to let you think he couldn't satisfy you. “I know, sweetie,” you assured him, pulling down the elastic until you could pull his cock out finally. “I know you're always good for me.”

The tip was so red and wet with precum you almost felt sorry for him. Almost. If he didn't deserve this so much. “P-please,” his voice was strained as you trailed your fingers up and down his shaft as lightly as you could. Still, he stayed good, he kept his hands to himself.

You inched up on him, positioning yourself over his cock, rubbing it through your folds, letting the tip catch on your clit. The sensitivity nearly made you double over and you avoided it on the next pass just to keep your control. “Beg again,” you hissed.

“Please, please, please, please, need to be inside you, please-” he chanted, not a drop of shame or pride in his pathetic, desperate need for you.

You couldn't deny either of you any longer and pressed his tip against your entrance, sinking down on him until he was fully sheathed in your cunt. This time, you did lose your composure, pressing your hands to his chest and nearly collapsing onto him as his cock filled you. Your legs shook slightly as you got used to it, as your pussy stretched to accommodate him.

“Let me do the rest,” he pleaded, and it sounded so tempting. Being a pillow princess was so easy and rewarding with him. “Let me take care of you.”

You pushed his shirt up to his mouth, your hands brushing against his abs and chest as you went. Holding the crumpled fabric at his lips, you gave him an order. “Hold this up but keep your hands down,” you tried to keep your voice level and stern, but it came out pitchy as his cock twitched and throbbed in you.

He bit down on his shirt.

You ran your hands down his chest, pressed them to his abs, and started rocking and bouncing on him. It was stupid how good he felt, how hard it was to stay focused when his cock rubbed against you so perfectly. It really filled every inch of you up and then stretched you just a bit farther. You rolled your hips, let him stay deep, let yourself just use him for your own pleasure.

“Sh-should I let you come inside?” You asked through your own pants and moans.

He groaned out something you assumed was yes, but he obediently kept the fabric of his shirt in his mouth for you.

“Were you a good enough dog to deserve it?”

He bucked his hips up into you in response and your eyes nearly rolled back in your head. His arms were so tense, his muscles so strained from trying to keep his hands off of you. He looked so good like this. He looked so good having to hold back, having to be a patient, obedient, submissive dog for you. You whined when he thrust up into you again and your thighs clenched so tightly they hurt.

“Good boy, good dog,” you praised, “G-give it all to me-” your body tensed and your back arched as your orgasm hit you. Your nails dug into his chest as you held on to him, your pussy spasming around him.

It didn't take any longer for him to finish too, shooting a thick load into you that made you cry out his name at the feeling. Feeling boneless and spent, you collapsed onto his chest. He pressed his heels into the mattress to push up into you without being able to hold you, desperate to stay deep inside while he released everything he had.

Eyes shut, you stayed still, your body tensing and relaxing as you came down from your orgasm. Your cunt sporadically clenched around him and his hot come and you whined, deep in your throat, at the sensation.

As satisfied as you were, there was something missing. You looked up at him and then tugged the shirt out of his mouth. “You can thank me, now,” you offered with a small, apologetic grin.

“Can I touch you?” He asked instead, words falling out of his mouth quickly as if they'd been there this entire time.

You nodded, eyes already fluttering shut.

Immediately you were wrapped in his arms, and you noted with a choked whimper, he kept his cock buried in you. “Thank you,” you heard him say softly, kissing the top of your head as he held you tightly.

You stayed there for a moment until the ache of being oversensitive and overfull began to be too distracting. “Caleb- need a break.”

He pressed you closer just one more time before easing up, slipping out of you, and letting you slump onto the bed next to him. “Do you forgive me now?” He turned on his side, hand splaying across your stomach and eyes boring into your own.

You reached up to brush a strand of hair out of his face. “Always,” you hummed and it was true. No matter how many times he fucked up, no matter how far his obsession took him, at his core you knew him. You knew his intentions were good and that there was just something in his brain, too deep and intrinsic to him to remove, that made him hold on too tightly. As frustrating as he could be, you loved him.

He smiled, so cutely endearing that it made your heart ache. “I love you, pips, and I'll do anything for you. Never forget it.” He cuddled up to you, nuzzling his face against your neck as he did.

You put your hand over top of his, “Love you too, puppy,” you teased.

#lads #lads caleb #love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #lads x reader #love and deepspace x reader #lads smut #love and deepspace smut #fighting these demons today lads #redacted redacted smth about how caleb would be ecstatic if he could knot you redacted redacted #i take myself out back. i shoot myself like a lame horse. hallelujah

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thewalrusespublicist · 2 months ago

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SO as mentioned I went for a gander about Paul's political leanings and found this fantastic interview with Paul and an old friend.

It's full of good info but I'll put some of the greatest hits here:

The interviewer (Jonathan Power) met Paul when they were at school together at the Liverpool institute and became distant friends when Paul made him feel welcome as a new starter. He apparently never forgot Paul's kindness

Didn't realise just how academic the Liverpool institute was (according to this, one alumni has won the nobel prize).

Jim McCartney was partially deaf which made him unfit for WW2 service

Aforementioned Paul attacking a ram for butting one of his children due to his 'animal instinct', but nominally he's a pacifist

Was in New York at 9/11 and was on a plane that morning but was grounded due to the towers being on fire

His version of promoting political views at school was reaching people through music. He tells this adorable anecdote of Paul standing on the desk in history class singing Long Tall Sally and George bringing his guitar :). (Jonathan remembers the day Paul did that!)

Power shutting down Paul's normal-bloke-didnt-know-what-I-was doing routine to say that Paul was one of the brightest boys in the class

Anti-colonial baby Paul arguing with the coloniser guest speaker in class you love to see

The interviewer is kinda like 'why didnt you solve all of Britians problems?!?' and like ... I love the Beatles and they were super important but they also were just four guys

The Beatles not advocating for gay rights as it 'didn't come up'. Sure.

Paul wrote to the Dalai Lama to tell him off for eating meat and the Dalai Lama said it was okay because you shouldn't get too attached to anything lmaoo

At the time of this (2009) Paul was definetely pro Palestine and was touring to try to work for better unity between the Palestinians and the Israelis

He's very secretive about what he donates but he assures the interviewer its more than people accuse him of

He kept in touch with his old English teacher Alan Durband and credits Eleanor Rigby on him teaching him structure.

Near the end he gives this really nice anecdote about hearing people play his music in America

Let me tell you a little story to finish with. I was on a holiday recently in Long Island where I have a little sailboat and this nice lady lets me keep it on her beach. I just sail out very quietly on my own in the boat—me, the wind and the sail; it is a great balance to my high visibility life. As I was setting the boat up there was a group of guys just down the beach and I heard them singing. It was a quiet beach; there was nobody on it except me and them. I was just there staying with my girlfriend. I listened and it sounded so tuneful that I approached, and as I got closer I realised it was my song "Eleanor Rigby" they were singing. I just stood there until they finished and it was great, it was a beautiful arrangement—they turned out to be the Princeton Glee club. And when they finished I applauded them and said, "Can you imagine me as a kid in Liverpool, someone telling me that there would be an a cappella group of young men singing one of my songs on a beach in Long Island in America? It's uncanny.

Paul talking to Jonathan Power, 2009

#Let Paul be interviewed by loved ones more!!!#theyre the only ones that can get anything out of him #theres that other wonderful one that I need to post done by a friend #thats so beautiful and loving towards Linda #and their family life #Paul #still not forgiven for the teachers strikes but this was nice

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darkmuffinstudios · 8 months ago

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Strange train of thought but

I sometimes wonder if Killer actually sees the people around him as people. Like thinking, sentient people.

Kind of when you're in a public place, and you look at someone near you and think, "Oh wow. They have their own life and their own journey that just so happened to cross my own."

Because I'd like to think that part of the reason his SOUL became something neither human nor monster is because he adopted the POV/mentality of the PLAYER.

After enough resets (doesn't matter if its genocide, neutral, or pacifist), I wonder if Killer would start to slowly see people as the player does. The same lines of dialogue. The same reactions. The same habits, routines, everything. It becomes monotonous. It starts to feel like a dream. Like all of this isn't real, because he is outside of the loop.

That's why he can be apathetic when he cuts people down. Why he can be attached to certain characters/people if they make him happy. Why he is so hellbent on seeing how different "characters" tick. How they work, what they'd look like in this situation, how they would respond to this, etc.

He is used to predictability. He is thrilled when something different or something unexpected happens, like a person playing a video game and getting surprised by a sneak attack or change in dialogue.

There's no tangibility, nothing to ground him to this place because he already doesn't see the people as people.

When his SOUL unwinds and becomes unstable, he's like... in his body but not. He's in a weird, daydream like state where nothing is real. The disconnected feeling he feels towards his peers and enemy escalates, to the point that his own senses don't feel like his own.

The pain he feels isn't real. The people dying aren't real.

And his SOUL allows him to essentially disassociate.

Other times, his SOUL elicits horrible dread and agony. I mean, if he was daydreaming all the time, he'd forget that he was alive in the world he lived in. His actions still had consequences.

He's either feeling near nothing or every horrible thing imaginable.

#darkzyx #undertale au #undertale fandom #utmv #killer sans #utmv headcanons #this is just a weird train of thought I had one night #that never quite left me #I don't know #I mean I know he has some actual stuff going on with him canonically technically #but this ain't the canon stuff right now #still #I think this would be interesting #Over time he starts to actually see people for what they are #especially the others in the gang #hence why he fights so fiercely for them

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alexanderlightweight · 3 months ago

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Hello darling~

Prompt for you: Shifters!Malec going on a first date & scent marking?

— Saeth

why do my bf's prompts never let themselves be written in short doses? (because we talk about what they want and basically we both go down plotbunny shortcut and end up in a labyrinth of ideas)

ily even though this was only supposed to be like two scenes of dating and ended up so much longer and yes this will have to be added to but that's what writing wednesdays are for

<3 lumine

i hope reading this distracts you from pain for even a few minutes sweetheart and that you also enjoy it

in the shadow of a flame

There are few truly peaceful places in New York that Alec can find rest safely and without worry of interruption.

The Halls of Refuge is one of the only places that is truly neutral in the entirety of New York and perhaps the whole of the East Coast. It is an imposing building, beautiful and crafted from ancient stone steeped in magic and found in the quarries of the Spiral Labyrinth.

Once one has passed through the entry ward you are then beholden to the rules of the Hall and therefore, fighting is not only discouraged but completely restricted. Even the thought of violence could get you both kicked out and banned.

Alec isn’t pleased at the fact that the reasons he finds it peaceful are because most of his hunters either avoid it out of prejudice or had already been banned, but still, he finds himself also relieved to have a refuge, just as the name boldly states.

The Hall itself had been established at the end of the Uprising, something beyond mere empty words to try and seal the festering wound that has lingered in the shadowworld since before the Accords. It’s been a place of safety for Alec since he was a boy, still training and lacking understanding of the world around him.

Alec is fairly sure that the only reason the hall exists is because its creator, Ragnor Fell had insisted on retrieving the books he’d lent the Clave before the Uprising and the Clave had refused to give them up for good.

Their own pride had played against them, the books now accessible to all and with very few nephilim actually bothered to venture out and study them.

Alec and Izzy were two of the few who did but after the last incident involving Izzy, a fey and a pile of nearly ruined books via bodily fluids — for once not blood — Alec found himself alone.

It was amazing.

The rooftop of the Hall, while developed for leisure, was rarely used during the daytime.

Any vampires staying for the day in the Hall wouldn’t go near the sun and while the architecture was stunning, there were very few plants so the fae folk often preferred the educational greenhouses with rows of bark bound books and stone scrolls.

Alec also liked the greenhouses, but only when they were empty. Despite being a shadowhunter, once he entered the wardline, he apparently became approachable.

Not by many, but by more than he knew how to deal with, especially when he had no idea why they were approaching him.

No one knew who he was here, names were often left unsaid or used in a carefree manner without attaching the weight of legacy and lineage.

For someone who had lived in the shadows but often had a spotlight thrust upon him, it was familiar yet even more discomfiting when Alec couldn’t understand what was wanted from him.

Hence, while he would never take any book beyond the lilac and wisteria covered gazebos — the risk of sun damage to the books despite the spells on them kept him cautious — Alec liked napping on the sun hot stone with the heat of sol warming his fur.

His senses were finetuned enough that any disturbance or intrusion of his solitude and peace would wake him up in time to shift back without a risk of vulnerability.

Or at least, that’s how it had been so far.

—

Magnus rarely visits Ragnor’s little library project in the daytime. Not for any grand reason, but as a habit since he often sleeps during the day.

Today, however, is a boring one and the night before has been uneventful, for once.

Deciding to stretch his wings rather than portal isn’t even a conscious decision, not when Magnus aches to feel the the wind yield to the strength of his wings.

The rooftop — largely left bare by Ragnor as a courtesy for him to land — is occupied, but the presence is calm and contained and as Magnus gets closer, the scent entices him closer.

Landing doesn’t awaken him, even as Magnus realizes that the abyssal lynx lying before him is a shadowhunter.

It’s as surprising as it is a temptation and Magnus deliberately lays near him, drawn as he is by the possibility of an unclaimed and hidden treasure now discovered.

Magnus doesn’t dare actually touch him, not yet when even in sleep he’s alert and wary. Ears sway delicately in the breeze made from Magnus’ wings and yet, when most would startle and panic at the scent of a predator, he relaxes.

His paws twitch in his sleep, making kneading motions in the air as his tail flicks back and forth and he remains asleep, undisturbed even in the shadow of Magnus’ presence.

This could only happen if he found Magnus’ scent and magical aura as enthralling as Magnus finds his.

It’s easy enough to curl around Magnus’ newfound kitten, his form minute compared to Magnus’ own strength and size.

Soon enough his kitten sleeps in the coiled embrace of a dragon.

From nose to tail tip Magnus has formed an ouroboros, containing his treasure without disturbance, not willing to yet wake him.

It’s delightful to watch him sleep, to admire the sheen of black fur, glossy with health in the gleam of sol. Yet as the sun reaches its zenith, hot and bold in the sky without a pity for those under her piercing rays, Magnus grows concerned.

Surely a creature meant for the shadows and the dark is weaker, more sensitive to the brilliance and heat of the sun. Without conscious thought one of his golden wings spreads out in a protective canopy, shielding his gem from the harsh rays.

It is a mistake.

—

Darkness wakes Alec up.

Despite the warmth still surrounding him, the light of the sun against his closed eyes is gone, which means it is no longer safe to rest when night is about to begin.

When he opens his eyes he finds that gold envelopes him even as darkness continues to surround him. Not the abyss of the night, but the dark of confinement, the only light coming from what's keeping him trapped.

Alec should feel panicked, his hackles should have already been raised the moment a presence intruded on him and yet, even now, he’s surprised but unconcerned.

The scent and power of whoever has entrapped him is equally comforting and beguiling. It’s hard to form cohesive thoughts when he wants to rub against the warmth radiating from what he can now recognize as golden scales.

Yet even as the idea crosses his mind, the scales are shifting, gold flickering as the sun is once again allowed to shine as a wing is pulled away.

Alec is still trapped in the coil of an ancient embrace and yet despite the fact that he could — and should — slip away into the shadows he finds himself shifting, despite the more vulnerable state of his bipedal form.

After all, even on two legs instead of four, Alec is a hunter.

As if waiting for him to shift, the dragon does as well and from where he’s sitting on the floor — no longer surrounded by warm, golden scales yet still feeling like he’s been caught in a snare — Alec can’t help but wonder at his own luck.

“Was it too hot? I thought my wing might offer some relief.”

Alec is surprised at the question, at the immediate regard for his well being and concern for his comfort despite being an unknown in a place a dragon rests.

“No,” and despite the fact that he could easily make up a reason, Alec finds himself telling the truth, “I come here for the sun and when it’s gone, I leave.” That’s the best and safest answer he can give without lies or overexplaining.

“A pity,” is all that’s said for a moment and then golden eyes narrow at him with a wicked gleam, “I was enjoying watching you dream, kitten.”

Alec can’t help but glance up at the sky as he frowns, no matter that there is still time before dusk, it’s not worth it to try and sleep again for such a small period. It’s a waste but not one he can change.

He deliberately ignores the heat on the back of his neck.

The last time he’d been called kitten was when he was a child in training, the instructor mocking him had never regained the use of his vocal cords.

Strangely, he doesn’t mind the term from the man before him.

“It’s Alec,” he finally offers, preparing to stand because while he might not mind it in feline form, it feels strange to be sitting when the dragon who watched him as he slept stands tall.

Footsteps sound; deliberate in their movement rather than soundless as Alec knows they should be.

“And I’m Magnus, kitten.”

—

Magnus barely holds back the hungry trill that threatens to spill from his throat.

He’s absolutely precious.

Large hands lined with callouses finally take Magnus’ own outreached hand as he pulls Alexander to his feet.

“Let me make it up to you?” Magnus asks, a thrill in his veins as Alexander’s expression turns contemplative. The pink creeping up his neck extends to his cheeks even as his ears twitch in interest.

“I can’t return the sun to its peak,” well he could, but that wouldn’t exactly get him what he wants, now would it. “But I can take you somewhere the sun is just beginning her reign?”

“Really?” There’s no shock or disbelief in Alexander’s voice, simply confusion. “ Just to make up for something that happened out of kindness?”

If Alexander wants to think that Magnus’ mistake was out of kindness instead of greed, then all the better. A small smirk forms on Magnus’ face and his eyes gleam even as he softens his voice.

“Well, I’m not being entirely selfless,” he lets himself admit and as much as he’d love to brush his fingers over Alexander’s cheek and let his scent linger there, he can be patient.

When the prize is worth it.

“I quite like the idea of spending more time with you, Alexander. As lovely as you were to watch sleeping—” and Alexander’s ears fluff even as a scowl crosses his face at the reminder. “It would be even lovelier to get to know you.”

“There’s no guarantee you’ll like what you learn.”

“Well then, perhaps you’ll just have to let me watch you nap again, hmm kitten?”

—

Aoreatera is perhaps the only place Magnus can think of where the sun is newly risen yet still growing towards its peak this late in New York. The beaches there are lovely and there are more than enough secluded coves that are warded away from mundanes because of the magical specimens found there.

The warlocks born and raised in the cultures of their homeland are the ones to tend to and maintain these places, but entry is allowed when respectful. Especially in Magnus’ case, when his mere presence often brings a new vitality.

The balcony they arrive at is carved into the rock of the cliff itself, nothing but nature and magick were used to make and maintain this place.

Salt is thick in the air and perhaps so sandy a place isn’t the best choice when Alexander’s fur is so thick, yet Magnus has no regrets as Alexander’s eyes widen in delight and his face turns up to welcome the bright sun.

The food available here will be simple and must be self-foraged with a wild but thriving garden and a cove full of fat, healthy fish, most of them of magical varieties. It’s been a while since Magnus’ has refreshed himself like this, actually taking time away from the cloying and seeping feel of mundane cities.

Here, engulfed by wild and pure magick, entranced by natural beauty, Magnus is too tempted to deny himself and so he doesn’t.

—

Alec isn’t sure what he expected when he let himself be guided through a portal, a balcony made of stone overlooking a cove full of rich and thriving tidepools isn’t it. It’s real in a way that Alec hasn’t experienced since his last venture to the snow covered peaks of Idris.

He should be thanking Magnus, or asking what he wants in return and yet Alec has barely taken a few deep gulps of air and then he’s shifting. It’s so much easier to enjoy the warm wind tugging on his fur, his tail coiling in the playful breeze, here than in New York. The sun is glorious and the cliff without threat of shade except beneath the boughs of the large, lush trees and the air clean without the need of magical filtration.

He’s barely shifted before Magnus follows, a large, hot golden muzzle pressing against his side as if in comfort. Alec’s allowance is taken as permission to an unasked question because a moment later, Alec finds himself being groomed.

Magnus' tongue is slick in a way his own rough one isn’t and yet heat presses down, smoothing his fur and permeating his muscles until he feels loose and languid. Magnus’ scent is hot, less fire and brimstone and instead like the fierce heat of sunbaked stone.

It’s not pure destruction but also the creation of new life, of ashes and then rebirth and it’s an intoxicating mix.

He’s saturated in Magnus’ scent by the time the dragon is done and his fur is damp despite how hot Magnus’ breath is. It’s without thought that Alec transforms, relaxed and with slowly blinking eyes he lets himself indulge in comfort so often denied.

Magnus doesn’t stop, his tongue passing over the curve of Alec’s neck and lingering on the arch of his cheek. It’s unexpected but all Magnus does is chuckle, a deep rasping noise like the rumbling of an earthquake before his nose nudges Alec’s side and he inhales.

There’s a deep pause as nature itself seems to hold its breath and then hot — as scorching as a brand — skin presses against his own and arms wrap tightly around his waist.

“Cold?” Magnus teases, the question a whisper of lips on the shell of Alec’s ear. They flutter involuntarily, one brushing back up against Magnus’ mouth as if begging for more.

It should be a hopelessly embarrassing display — Alec hasn’t let himself be so controlled by instincts since he was a child — and yet Alec finds himself desperately wishing that Magnus isn’t offended, but pleased.

Teeth tug playfully at the ear pressed against Magnus’ mouth and then nip, fangs teasing at the tender skin under his fur before retreating. A warm mouth presses against his jaw before Magnus’ forked tongue tickles the swell of his lips.

Magnus keeps going, his nose tucking behind Alec’s ear as he inhales before his cheek presses deliberately to Alec’s neck and he nuzzles.

Alec is going to smell like Magnus, for days.

The only way to erase this kind of marking is with magical tonics and despite how practical that would be, Alec can’t imagine wanting to erase Magnus’ scent when he already mourns that it will naturally fade.

—

Alexander presses back, head tilting in an unconscious submission as he offers more skin for Magnus to scent.

It’s not a sly, careful maneuver but one that means he’s just as entranced as Magnus himself is and it’s as irresistible as it is delightful.

Magnus takes advantage, pressing himself closer and letting his hands finally wander, tucking his fingers under Alexander’s shirt until he can press his hands flush against warm skin.

Every place Magnus touches he made sure to leave evidence of his claim. When Alexander returns to the institute — which Magnus will allow despite his instincts demanding he hide his treasure away — it will be with Magnus’ claim lingering on him.

—

A harsh ring interrupts the gentle symphony of nature as they sit next to each other, watching the tide and Magnus resists the urge to flick his tongue and let his flames consume Alec’s phone.

Even Alexander seems irritated, his face going from soft wonder and serenity to a cold, solemn mask that turns his vibrant eyes dark and serious.

It’s a change that Magnus watches with careful intensity, all of his senses focused on Alexander in earnest.

“Summoned by duty?” Magnus asks, keeping his voice wistful and pushing down the possessive anger that emerges at the thought of Alexander being taken away by another's command.

“For once, duty can wait.” It’s said with a casual carefulness, a deliberate nonchalance even as Magnus can smell Alexander’s emotions warring, as if this is the first he’s ever allowed such a thing.

Yet he did, to stay longer with Magnus.

What a precious and delicious treasure that Magnus has found at last.

#lumine writes #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #in the shadow of a flame #shadowhunters #magnus bane #alec lightwood #dragon!magnus #cat!alec #malec

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sleepwalk-station · 2 months ago

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lone-walker asylum escapist, "Peet". ive been wanting to make an oc infodump post like this so here it goes! (warning. sorta long. with images)

// this will briefly mention unethical and invasive medical stuff but i wont get into details! //

grew up with a boring life, but at the age of 19, he was sent to an insane asylum after some psychotic symptoms appeared, he's not necessarily violent, but he's jumpy and super protective of himself, which leads to some misunderstandings. being strapped down against his will, and constantly tested upon with syringes.

after being fed up and basically tortured during his stay at the asylum, a blue sparkle appeared in front of his eyes, it almost looked like magic, and had a voice. it urged him to get out the HELL of of here.

after successfully jumping out of window from a great height and running away as far as possible, he adapted a new name and identity, Peet! that's what the friend called him. so why not?

peet hid around corners and tried to find jobs so he could find money for an apartment. most of the companies rejected him, but he ended up at a TAP facility. signing up to be a simple stocker. its a living.

progress is very slow and mostly peaceful, but overtime, the blue sparkle and its voice became clearer, and more sentient. like his own imaginary friend.

eventually, an enemy attacked the TAP facility he was at, and having nowhere to run, acted in self defense and killed the attacker. they saw the security footage and thought, huh, this guy is kind of good at fighting, actually. let's make him a guard instead.

then progress became faster- a more stable salary, albeit it was more dangerous, but doing his job no longer felt mundane, as months went on as a guard, his skills drastically improved with the help of his imaginary friend. :)

and eventually, another promotion. now, more independent, hes allowed to dress however he wants (but still confines to the rules ofc) and TAP helps keep his identity under wraps after finding out he's an escaped patient.

during his visit to an AAHW facility, he bumped into a girl, Yanik, who also just happens to be a magiturge. she grew EXTREMELY interested in his imaginary friend, and would often ask Peet to hang out with her just to examine him more.

He doesn't really mind this. usually he stays away from people because he's quite afraid that theyre dangerous (and past trauma from all of the people that have hurt him), but Yanik doesn't try to genuinely hurt him or do anything malicious. just a curious little wizard, is all. and maybe a bit of company wont hurt..? OK well yes these "spells" look very painful but hes usually fine afterwards.

yanik straps him to a chair just for extra caution despite nothing really happening besides peet just awkwardly staring at her with his arms tied to his back LOL

peet is physically very strong, despite his appearance. and can wield a waraxe with ease.

here he is, relaxing in his apartment :)

here are minor details to his lore:

he's based on my actual arena player, and my friend named him.

he loves collecting all kinds of knives, decorative ones, tactical ones, kitchen knives??? you name it. he probably has one.

he will appear in origami as a background character, and is acquaintances with agent crane. though theyre both kind of awkward with eachother and dont talk much. most of it is business related

sometimes he age regresses, and he loves collecting cute toys or charms. (his flip phone has a buncha keychains attached to it, as you can see in the apartment drawing) and occasionally play together with his imaginary friend.

hes a bit near sighted, and feels a little lost when he doesnt have his glasses on.

his music taste is car seat headrest, Weezer. ....and OK Go.

feel free to ask me anything about him! ill be doing yanik next.

#my art #Yes i made a special art just for this #oc: peet #oc: yanik #madness combat #madcom #madness combat oc #madcom oc #a little scared to see how this goes. But ok #if youre new and havent seen the conductor post and dont know what TAP is i encourage you to go find it (its probably in the conductor tag)#or just go through the my art tag. youll find it

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mirai-e-jump · 9 months ago

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Animage October 2024 Issue Kamen Rider Gavv ft. Chinen Hidekazu & Sugihara Teruaki (translations below)

Publication: September 10, 2024

The Strange Sweets Kamen Rider

The 6th Reiwa Kamen Rider is the first ever to use a sweets motif! The cast and staff talk about the behind the scenes of the birth of the new hero who fascinates us with a gap between poppin visuals and its heavy filling!!

Having passed out due to hunger, Shouma, who comes from another world, was saved by a human boy named Hiroi Hajime. Shouma was in a difficult situation when he confronts the Granute, a monster who wants to kill Hajime, but when he "sets & eats" the familiar like creatures called Gochizo in the mouth on his stomach, he transforms into Kamen Rider Gavv and crushes the Granute. This was the beginning of Shouma's battle to protect humans.

The latest entry in the Kamen Rider series, "Kamen Rider Gavv" only just started in September. Despite the poppin imagery and visuals of sweets as its motif, this is a hard and serious drama that depicts the lonely battle of a young man named Shouma, who hides a grand past and mystery behind him.

This production features Takebe Naomi-san as the Producer, Sugihara-san as the pilot Director who determines the direction of the work, Komura Junko-san as Screenwriter, and Fujita Satoshi-san as Action Director, all of whom have worked on the Kamen Rider and Super Sentai series. In particular, Sugihara-san and Komura-san are the pair that gained attention for their work in "Kaitou Sentai Lupinranger VS Keisatsu Sentai Patranger" and the fans are expressing their expectations.

The story of a fierce battle between the sweets Kamen Rider and the Granute monsters has only just begun, so don't miss a moment of the birth of a new Kamen Rider legend! _

Chinen Hidekazu (Shouma)

The first transformation born from an extreme situation

-Supported by dependable friends and the Director-

"Please tell us your impression of the Kamen Rider series."

Chinen: For me, I've admired Kamen Riders since I was a child, and I love them so much that they're the first thing that comes to mind when people ask, "Who's your hero?" I've lived my whole life dreaming of becoming a Kamen Rider, so I was really happy when I was chosen to be Shouma.

"Are there any works that you find particularly memorable?"

Chinen: It's hard to pick a single work from my generation since I'm so attached to all of them, but……I think "Kamen Rider OOO" might be the one I was particularly enthusiastic about when watching. The dialogue between Hino Eiji and Ankh was interesting, and even as a child the ending made me think, so including its theme song, it's my favorite work. Lately however, I've been super into "Kamen Rider Den-O" (laughs). I'm watching it from the perspective of learning why it became so popular, but I also like Den-O because of Satoh Takeru's (who plays Nogami Ryotaro) amazing performance in which he plays multiple different personalities.

"What kind of person do you feel Shouma is?"

Chinen: I read the script so much that it felt like I was watching myself, as I thought that Shouma was so similar to me. We're very similar in the way that we're abit out of the loop, but also curious and get into the things that interest us. I was glued to the TV when I was a child, and I'd become so engrossed when watching it, that I couldn't even listen to what my mother was saying. However, I feel like I'm far removed from him in terms of his guts and inner strength, his desire to save people even at the risk of his own life, and his ability to fight the enemy. Playing the role of Shouma gives me energy and makes me aspire to be like him.

"We think another feature of this production is that right now, Shouma doesn't have a fixed place to stay, and that he comes into contact with a variety of people wherever he goes."

Chinen: I think alot of people are curious to see what happens next, as so far in Gavv, the story continues to be dominated by Shouma's easygoingness and the fact that we don't know what he's thinking. He seems to have a connection with Sachika-san, who he met in episode 2, so what happens to them in the future is a big point to watch out for!

"Please tell us your impressions of Sachika and the person who plays her, Miyabe Nozomi-san."

Chinen: Miyabe-san is a very refined person, so when we first met at script reading, I was shocked and said, "This person's gonna be a gyaru?!" (laughs). One of the things I like about Miyabe-san is that her mannerisms show the quality of her upbringing, but the more we talked, she really started to look like a gyaru, and I felt that performing together with her was amazing. Sachika-san leaves a strong impression of being a gyaru, but on the inside, she's a stable girl who's able to understand the feelings of others. Seeing her say with a refreshing smile, "I think it's good for everyone to be happy," Shouma respects her and thinks, "She's such a wonderful person" and "I want to be like her," almost like she's the embodiment of peace. When I read the script, I always feel supported and say, "Sachika-san, thank you."

"Shouma's brother sister like relationship with her is also very interesting."

Chinen: Director Sugihara Teruaki said to me, "It's like a dog and his owner" (laughs). Still, I think that Sachika-san's all encompassing kindness, and Shouma's simple mindedness are a great combination, and we're also playing the roles with confidence.

"He's yet to interact with Shouma, but we think the role Hanto plays will also be another highlight to look forward to."

Chinen: In some ways, Hanto is also easygoing, but he's the compassionate, hot blooded type, and he too lives by carrying something on his back. I hope you'll look forward to seeing how Shouma and Hanto, who are completely different types of people, interact with each other and what they'll think of each other in their first meeting. Hino Yusuke-kun, who plays Hanto, is the mood maker who makes the set feel relaxed, which is a gap between him and Hanto, but I feel that we're similar in our passion for the production and performance, and the way we put our all into something. To me, Hino-kun is a rival but also like a reliable big brother, and we often consult with each other and visit each other's houses (laughs).

"What were your impressions of Director Sugihara, who also directed the first two episodes as the pilot Director?"

Chinen: As I had no experience in acting, Director Sugihara is a respected teacher who taught me how to perform from the ground up, including how to read the script, and he's like a father figure from Tokyo. He understands each actor's personality and gives them advice accordingly, and he's an amazing person who draws out our potential, so every time I'm on set, I feel happy to film under Director Sugihara. He's a Director I really love.

"Before filming, it seems that you and the Director practiced vocalization together."

Chinen: Yes, even before I could act, my voice wouldn't come out (laughs). I'm really grateful that he took time out of his busy schedule to watch me one on one, and it was an important turning point that led to something changing in me. I want to grow so that people will feel that I'll have changed over the coming year, and one of my goals is to give an inspiring performance that'll be recognized by Director Sugihara with, "You gave it your all."

-Aiming to be as cool as Nawata-san-

"Kamen Rider Gavv, who Shouma transforms into, has a motif based on gummies and other sweets."

Chinen: When I saw the illustration depicted in the proposal, I thought it was incredibly simple, however, my opinion changed when I saw it in person. The armor on the chest and shoulders have a gradient so that it shines beautifully when light hits it, and there's a playful gimmick where a squishy dent will form when it's pressed, so a bunch of detail has been carefully put into it. I'm now so attached to it, that I can't think of anyone else but Gavv. Personally, what I want you to pay attention to the most are the feet. The feet are actually clawed, and this slightly animal like aspect is an important element of the show, so I'd be happy if you make sure to pay attention to the feet as well.

"What's your impression of Nawata Yuya-san, Gavv's Suit Actor?"

Chinen: Nawata-san is an actor who I shape Shouma together with, and he's an indispensable person to me, as I'm able to talk to him about problems that I can't talk about with the other cast members or the Director. He also taught me about acting, like how to create the mood and how to read the script. I'm grateful to Nawata-san's action, as I think Gavv's appeal has tripled, and I feel like the show itself has also become more brilliant.

"Does that also get you enthusiastic about the post transformation dub recording?"

Chinen: That's right. The recording process is more difficult than normal acting because you have to use only your voice to express your emotions and fight scenes in accordance with the footage. In episodes 1 and 2, I had to rerecord so many times that I lost the strength in my voice, and it took twice as long as the planned time (bitter smile). As well as the performances of my seniors in the Kamen Rider series, I also studied the game "Street Fighter" based on the advice of Director Sugihara, and now I feel like I'm getting by. I'll work more diligently to make Nawata-san's performance 120% more appealing with my voice performance, and to become a Shouma who's just as cool after his transformation into Gavv.

"One of the real thrills of the Kamen Rider series are the transformation scenes, but how did you create the pose?"

Chinen: The transformation pose was decided through a discussion between myself, Action Director Fujita Satoshi, Director Sugihara, and Nawata-san. It's a movement that involves rotating your arm, but the final version, which we created after discussing the angles and timing with everyone to make sure it looked cool and appealing, is the transformation pose used in episode 2. Depending on the story, he could transform quickly, so I hope people watch the way he changes based on the situation.

"In the episodes up to this point, the action leading up to the first transformation in the first episode is a scene that can't be ignored when talking about Shouma. There was some action involving wires, and we were also impressed by his performance as he was gradually being cornered by the Granute."

Chinen: That scene was prepared weeks before the shoot, as Director Sugihara and Action Director Fujita came up with a really cool direction. The scene where Shouma is beaten was especially important to give depth to the reason for his transformation, as it took two days to film. In the end, it was in the most extreme situation I had ever experienced in my life, my performance came out unconsciously, and I was complemented with, "Your facial expressions were very good." I could've never done it on my own, the scene was made possible by the advice of Director Sugihara and Nawata-san, who worked beside me, and by all the staff members who created an environment that allowed me to concentrate on my performance.

"It makes us want to go back and pay attention to the expressions on your face. Finally, please tell us your goals throughout filming of Kamen Rider Gavv."

Chinen: I'd like to learn alot about action from Action Director Fujita, Nawata-san and everyone else on the Action Team, and I'd like to improve my acting skills. I've never been in an environment where I could spend an entire year with people who are so good at captivating others, and I don't think it'll ever happen again in the future. I hope to make full use of this experience so that in the next year, I can be an actor who can do it all, from acting to action and recording, so I'll do my best to do what's in front me!

Director Sugihara Teruaki

The vibrant world Shouma comes across

-A dark story with colorful visuals-

"When did you first hear that you'd be the pilot Director?"

Sugihara: I'm pretty sure it was around last Fall, when I was working on the drama, "Tokyo MPD: From Zero to Hero," I received a phone call from Producer Takebe Naomi-san who said, "I'd like to meet and talk with you at once." I heard from a separate matter that Takebe-san would be in charge of the next Kamen Rider, and at the time, I thought I was going to be the second Director, but when I met her, she said, "You're the pilot Director." (laughs).

"At the stage when Director Sugihara joined, how much of the content in the show was decided on?"

Sugihara: Aside from the sweets and monsters motif, we'd yet to decide on the content of the story and the personalities and relationships of the characters. In the beginning, we were a small group consisting of the Producer team's Takebe-san and Takishima Minami-san, Screenwriter Komura Junko-san, and myself. Our three parties worked out the content by sharing ideas from our respective perspectives.

"What specific ideas did Director Sugihara have in mind? Personally, we felt that the visuals of the characters, including their costumes, incorporated the Director's ideas."

Sugihara: You can assume that I'm basically in charge of visual aspects like the impression and fashion. For Shouma's fashion in particular, during the rather early stages, I'd draw an illustration and say, "How about something like this?," and I'd have them look at it while I created his character.

"Not just Shouma's clothes, but also the interior of Hapipare is rich in color, so much so that it's unusual for the Kamen Rider series."

Sugihara: I told artist Fukuzawa Katsuhiro that I wanted to make the visuals as bright and pop as much as possible. Kamen Rider Gavv itself isn't meant to be a continuation of the "ism" seen in the first generation of Kamen Rider, but it includes themes like family conflict and Shouma's sad separation from his mother, so the content is heavy. Because of this, we made the impression of the colors vivid, and were careful to not make them too dark. Moreover, being in the human world for the first time, Shouma's a kid who's impressed by everything he sees, so I was conscious of the world captured from Shouma's point of view and to use rather flashy colors. Conversely, the Granute World and Stomach Family use muted colors, or to just say it outright, they have dirty colors.

"What do you value in your expression of Shouma, the main character?"

Sugihara: I wanted to depict Shouma as a pure kid, someone who suddenly comes to the human world and finds everything he sees as fresh. On the inside, he's not much different from Hajime, who he first meets in the human world, in fact, he's much more of a child than that kid. So he ponders over what he's been told, hurt by the casual mention of "monster" and afraid of hurting others, he's unable to be together with someone else, so he leaves Hajime and Sachika and goes elsewhere. However, I didn't want to make it too dark, so it was hard to depict (laughs). While he carries a dark side, I want him to be a kid who's always smiling when he's with someone, even if he has to force himself to smile.

"This Shouma is beautifully embodied by Chinen Hidekazu-san."

Sugihara: The best thing about Chinen-kun is that he looks great on camera. That's the kind of talent an actor has. Also, the expressions on his face when he eats are really good. Even though he's eating food he usually sees all the time, he eats it like it's a delicacy, looking as if he's eating something he's never seen before and is impressed. In that sense, I think he was the right choice to play Shouma. Still, since this is roughly his first performance, he had to start from a place where he couldn't express his emotions properly, and to begin with, he couldn't even vocalize. I had Chinen-kun stand on one end of Toei's rooftop, and I stood on the opposite end and had him deliver his lines. I gave him relentless acting instruction from the very beginning (laughs). Filming started earlier than usual, so we've already shot several episodes, and I feel that he can now stand proudly in front of the camera as Shouma. With each episode his performance and facial expressions are getting better and better. I have high expectations for his growth over the next year.

-Dedicated action that make the most of the motif-

"We felt that the vibes of Gavv's everyday scenes were different from that of previous Kamen Rider series, but was there anything you were conscious of in your direction?"

Sugihara: In my mind, I had a bright, pop like feeling, but during filming, Chinen-kun……it was important to me how to capture Shouma and the human world from his point of view. I may have only been thinking, "How can I get a good shot of him?"

"In that sense, it's interesting to think that the entire production is being pulled along by Shouma and Chinen-san."

Sugihara: That's right. This is especially true for the first episode, as the story unfolds from Shouma's point of view, so I was conscious of the fact that I wanted to bring the viewers perspective as close as possible to Shouma's.

"Despite the battle scenes also having a fancy sweets motif, from the very first episode, we were taken back by the intense physical battle depicted between Gavv and the Granute."

Sugihara: I'm pretty sure it was Action Director Fujita Satoshi who put out the idea of a serious fistfight at a container warehouse, and with sword fighting in a narrow space. We specified the colors and placement of the containers, and asked the people on location to arrange them accordingly. From there, Fujita and I talked in detail about the composition of the action, and we put it together by discussing the angles while adding in our own ideas as we filmed on site.

"We heard that you and Fujita-san worked closely together to create this."

Sugihara: I also like action quite abit, so I tell Fujita various things like, "Do this sort of thing." Naturally, Fujita has alot of things he wants to do as well, so the two of us are working together to come up with ideas for action sequences and angles.

"Including Gavv's own actions, the way he fights while "eating" the Gochizo is unique."

Sugihara: It was decided in advance that the transformation items Gochizo would appear alot like that of "Pikmin" and "Minions," so I thought it'd be better to use alot of them. Because of that, when Gavv takes damage, his armor breaks and he'll eat the Gochizo one after another……we're calling it "follow up sweets," and I think it'd be interesting to keep changing sweets and repair them as he fights.

"The standard Poppingummy Form has flexible armor, while Zakuzakuchips Form's sword weapon can easily break depending on how it's used, and the use of sweets as a motif was also visually enjoyable."

Sugihara: Inspiration for the action comes from discussions that are almost like casual conversations. I thought about how things like thin baked snacks such as potato chips might be weak to side attacks (laughs). Also, unlike other Kamen Riders, we don't use bullet impacts on Gavv when we depict him being hit (mechanism that detonates gunpowder that's attached to the performer). In his setup, the armor is derived from sweets generated by his own body, so we tried to create the effect of small bead like things flying around him. During filming, we've been throwing beads into the air from the side of the camera. In that sense, it may have a new visual feel.

"What scenes from episodes 1 and 2 were particularly powerful?"

Sugihara: In terms of taking the most time, I'd say it was before the transformation in the first episode. When I was thinking about Shouma's human image, Takebe-san said, "I don't want him to be a hero who fights just because he has powers." You don't fight just because you have the power to become a Kamen Rider, there's a will to fight, and that's where the power comes in. I wanted to create an image of a hero who's able to transform into Gavv because it's Shouma. Since the time of the script meeting, we had talked about how we wanted to portray a different kind of strength from that of the everyday Shouma, who keeps going despite being beaten up by someone he can't even stand up to. On set, Chinen-kun and I worked together to find out why Shouma was feeling that way, and we worked on his facial expressions and gestures one by one, and I was quite persistent throughout filming. We were supposed to film the transformation scene in one day, but we took too long and didn't get to the transformation, so I had to apologize to the staff (laughs).

"Finally, please tell us your enthusiasm for the future."

Sugihara: Honestly, I have no idea how Kamen Rider Gavv will conclude a year from now, but I want to make a show that'll make people who watched it think, "Gavv was interesting." For this reason, I'd also like to delve deeper into Shouma and Hanto, and Sachika and the others characters, and to make each of them appealing. I'm sure that Komura-san will come up with some great developments (laughs), and for my part, I hope that I can take advantage of that, and as the pilot Director for the first time in a long time, to create images that people watching in their living rooms have never seen before.

#kamen rider gavv #kamen rider #chinen hidekazu #hidekazu chinen #shouma stomach #shouma inoue #inoue shouma #inoue shoma #my scans #my translation #animage #hanto karakida #karakida hanto #sachika amane #amane sachika #tokusatsu #toku cast #interview

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6akyubasu · 1 month ago

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Toji needs your help . . . (Sub!Toji X Succubus!Y/N)

Word Count ; 2.9K

For the last week, your husband, Toji has felt excruciating pain; a harsh cough, a burning fever, and a persisting migraine. It seems as if nothing works. No medicine, no meal, nothing could take away this suffering.

“How do you feel now?,” you say softly, as you lay beside him in bed.

“Terrible..,” he responds nasally. The congestion in his nose makes his voice show just how dreadful he feels. He could barely move a muscle to cover his mouth while he coughs, and the harshness increases every time he does so. After he finishes, he settles back to the position he last was in. As he lays on your bed frame, you take in his figure; his pale skin appears like a sheet of ice, his muscles look like they’re deflating, and he can’t even open his eyes to stare at the ceiling that he’s facing.

“I’m sorry, my love… I can try and make you something…,” In an effort to please him, you list anything that will supply him with sustenance and strength to feel at least somewhat better, “Tea? Soup? Something hot will help you feel better..,” You notice that what you say doesn’t please him, and regardless of all of the delicious things you may try to feed him, nothing will work.

“Y/N..,” he mutters, “you know the only way to make me feel better is..,”

Before he finishes his sentence, you interrupt him just as he’s about to say something. “Tea? Perfect, I can make you a cup as soon as possible.” You get up out of the king-sized bed you’re both sharing, and stand up to enter the kitchen. Yet he stops you..

“Y/N, stop..,” he says. “I’m getting worse by the day.. We’ve tried everything in the book, why won’t you just do it?” Besides being “good” at deflecting, you’re also great at playing dumb.

“What do you mean, Toji? I’ll start the kettle right now.” You say, as you walk across the room for the door, inching closer and closer so that you can end the conversation before he can say.. “Heal me. I’m getting weaker and this pain only multiplies the more you deny me..”

“Toji… I-..I can’t.” You know that it’s best for him, but you can’t help yourself to do that. You haven’t had sex with Toji in months, and after the events that happened the last time you did so, you planned to not do it for many more. When you and Toji had sex, it was different. It wasn’t just intimacy and bonding, it was as if you were melting into one another. Your entrails became his and vice versa, the beads of sweat that came from the powerful fucking you gave to each other transformed into skin, his large dick fit into you like a third leg, and he embraced you tightly like a bear. It was the best feeling.. And if not for that feeling, it wouldn’t bring out the worst in you.

Your abilities were meant to kill and drain men so you can sustain your own existence. Every man that came before him had been stricken with energy the moment you’d connected with them, and once you gave in, you deprived them of their life just so you could live. With Toji, that was far from the case.. What he gave you wasn’t just sex, but lust at its finest. He fucked you like a wild beast attacked it’s prey, he touched you like the sun touches your skin when you stand within it’s rays, he loved you more than how someone is supposed to love you. And even though the first time you ever met Toji was to hook-up with him, you both had become attached to one another. You were deeply under the spell of Toji Fushiguro, and him as well. The passion that came when you both fucked couldn’t be replicated or imitated, nothing topped that.

That first time turned into a second, which turned into a third, which turned into tens of entrenched fucks. Yet even the last time you both had sex became too much for you. Nothing like the feeling you felt could ever be duplicated or recreated, and so you swore to yourself that intercourse was no longer a thing in your relationship. Since then, the last several months have been filled with kissing and hugging. Nothing more. Nothing less. And no matter what, no matter how bad you wanted him in you, no matter how starved you felt, you couldn’t go through that again. The extremities of that time had changed you.. physically, emotionally, sexually, romantically. When it came to now, you had to resist. But your power could save him, reignite the spark of health that kept him going. This virus was changing him, and even though you couldn’t find the problem, you knew what was the solution.

“Y/N, please… I beg of you… I need you now more than ever.” Was he begging for you? Was he so deep in agony that the roles had switched? You always felt like he had an upper hand on you, a more dominant force on you that made you submit to him, yet could it be that this sudden sickness transformed the dynamic between the both of you? Now he was submitting to you, and this change made you think something different now. You turned to face him, now his head was positioned directly as you. His eyes flickered with a sense of hope, hoping that you’d give him what he wanted, hoping that you could heal him, hoping that you could erase all of his sorrow and replace it with sensuality and sex.

You inched closer to him, and the words, “I beg of you,” replayed in your head like a broken stereo. You walked closer and closer until you made it onto the position. The silk robe that covered you was calling to be ripped off. “Are you sure?,” You said.

“I’ll only beg of you if you genuinely want to. I know I can’t force you…” His cries for your love were that of whimpers from a paining dog. He needed you, and if you didn’t know now, now you did. “I think I do… but this will be the last time…”

“Is that so?,” He murmured. You couldn’t resist it anymore, and as you moved closer to him, you found yourself kissing him. His lips still tasted the same, even if he didn’t feel or look like it, he was still the Toji you fucked months ago. The Toji you first made love to on this same mattress. The Toji you hadn’t killed. You could taste the relief he felt when you wanted to kiss him now, you could taste the victory in his mouth as he thinks he’s now in heaven, and now, you could feel the release of sexual tension that had been building up for what felt like eons.

You pull away from his lips and mutter, “I need your help..,” you grabbed your large hand and intentionally placed it on your breast so he could feel it through the silk robe that hugged your body, “with this.”

“Anything for you, mommy..” He slowly untangled the belt that tightened the rope onto your skin, and let the fabric from your shoulders as you stared deep into his soul, waiting for your little slut to finish the job. You can tell he was eager to feel your skin, and once the robe had removed itself from you, he raised his eyes to look deeply into yours. You removed the cloth by pulling off each sleeve and removing it to reveal your nakedness. He could now look at all of the glory your robe had imprisoned. He could now actually grab your breasts, and not from the grip on your hands, but from the smile that he made, you could tell that the sickness was losing it’s grasp onto him. This was the first smile he ever made in days and hours, the first time he could genuinely embrace your body, and he took the opportunity to say.. “You’re so beautiful..”

“Is that so, my dear?” As he nodded, you grabbed him and pressed your lips against the grin plastered against his face. The soft kisses you gave sounded like drops of water dripping onto the floor, and his lips were sweet like candy. Every skin, fiber, and inch of them gave you a rush of euphoria that transcended through your body and gave you life. His love for you was blending with his saliva and you felt all of the love in the world attacking you with juicy liplocks. You released yet again, and feel like the release he let out in your mouth died down as the pleasure you gave him ended. But not just yet.

“Tell me how beautiful I am..” You slid your hand from his throat, down to his admirables abs, down to the holy grail; his large cock. You traced it like pen writing on paper and once it became erected, you grabbed onto the waistband of his gray sweatpants and pulled them down until you were right at his feet. Not only was he not wearing underwear, but without his pants hiding his glorious dick from you, now you see it in all of it’s glory. You crawled back to your original position, yet instead of sitting up, you went down to suck his cock. “I’m listening…”

As you put his member into your mouth, your tongue outlined every vein on it and you slowly licked his tip. He began to whimper, yet his moans of arousal didn’t stop him from barely making out his statements. “Y-you’re so fucking beautiful, y-you look like a goddess. Y-you’re the most beautiful.. fuck-” His stutters amused you, and you sucked his dick so you can feel all of the building cells rising increasingly. You imagined his cock as your favorite food, braised in lust and desire. His cock, glazed with your spit, gave him a rush that made his moans louder and more intense than the last one. His heavy breathing, outlined with his satisfying whimpers, made you know that what you were giving to him was the best he was ever going to get. You moaned to signal you enjoyed the taste, and the more you ate of him, the more you accelerated the speed of his release. Drops of pre-cum dripped onto your tongue, and when you pressed it onto the roof of your mouth, it felt like glue the way it stuck. You can feel the tension dripping from his dick right into your mouth as he stopped clenching his thighs and slowly spasmed.

“We’re not just done yet, slut..” You let go out of his cock as he lets out a deep exhale. You get up from the position you were in, slowly moving upwards where he lays on the bed. You meet him at his core and remove his compression shirt, revealing his beautiful abs to you. In excitement, you lick them, feeling upon each bone from the bottom of his stomach to his chest, where you kiss his testicles. “Fuck.. Y/N..” The pitch of his voice heightens as you make love to his core. Moving from the stomach, you graze his throat with your lips and he tremors at the feeling of your gentle kisses. You make sure to feel all of his skin as he presses against your head and lets you peck his throat.

You unleash yourself from his throat carefully, and he grabs you delicately by your ass, forcing you to let out a soft whimper in elation. “Please..,” he says. His breathing increases even more after you finish kissing him and you find sweat pouring from his forehead as he says to you, “don’t stop fucking me, mommy. I need you; I need to be i-in you.” He wails for your pussy, and sits you on top of his cock, and lets go of you once it’s latched itself in your clit. You let out a moan once it slips, throwing your head in your chest and you wrap your arms around him so you don’t let his dick escape the insides of you.

You begin to bob on his fat cock, and you notice something; as he’s screaming pure joy the more you thrust on his member, he starts to cry. Real tears. Yet, instead of comforting him, you don’t. Something takes over, a feeling of resentment. Whenever Toji ever made love to you, he always berated you. Slut. Whore. Bitch. Cunt. The words that you wouldn’t dare to call your lover, yet Toji did. It never meant he hated you, but he could tell how it made you feel; the way the walls of your clit would close on his dick, capturing his dick like a net and how it’d squirm and water when you heard him say those things, almost like they were compliments. Now that you were in control, you were going to do the favor.

You released one of your arms from his neck, and proceeded to slap him with it. “Why the fuck are you crying?” You move closer, whilst you’re still bouncing yourself on his dick, so he can hear your voice. “Stop being a fucking pussy.. And act like a man.” You can tell he likes what you’re doing, “I can’t h-help it, you’re so f-fucking beautiful, mommy.” You continue to slap him the more he whimpers. Your hits align with your moans, and you thrust yourself more powerfully onto him. “Fuck! I can’t take.. I can’t…” Before he even finishes his sentence, he busts your hot nut into you. You feel his seed rush through you like adrenaline, and you smile as his cock pulsates into your tight pussy. At this point, both of you are moaning at the same time whilst he’s finishing you. So much nut is shooting from his cock, you’d think he’s bleeding into you. You let go of his member and let for a kiss. Yet, even after he nuts in you, he still wants more. He isn’t worn out just yet. In fact, he’s more alive than before.

“How do you feel now, baby?”

“I want.. I-I want more.”

Just as he says this, he moves his head into your chest and starts to lick on your breasts. Toji had always loved the size of your chest. They were big enough to grab with two hands, and every time you fucked, he sucked on your tits like he was a baby. He starts making out with your breasts, moving his tongue along your nipples on to the fat.

“Ngh~ yes, Toji.. don’t stop, baby.” The more he latches on your breasts, the more he starts to bit into you. You jolt at his harsh bits into your boobs, so much so you orgasm, letting out a loud growl in libidinous, squirting all onto him. You can’t help but tightly grab his hair and release him from your breasts, and you look at all of the blood surrounding his face. Yet, something looks different about him. Toji isn’t the same after you finish, in fact, he changes into a whole new man. Yet, when you look at him, he genuinely was unrecognizable; his eyes now illuminate with a deep red and fangs grow from his teeth, drenched in your crimson milk. You were in awe however, and from the miraculous amount of blood that was drooling from his mouth and the grin plastered across his face, something sparked in you.

“Can you do one last thing for Mommy?”

“Anything.. Anything you like.”

You remove yourself from on top of him, sitting right next to him and letting his eyes follow your every movement. You raise your hand above your clit, and trail your finger around your pussy. He understands your motions and quickly gets on top of you, moving towards your clit where he can eat you. You get hold of his head, pushing it into your clit. He starts to eat your pussy, and the strikes of pain turn into rushes of euphoria. “Yes… eat for Mommy.. D-don’t stop..” He eats into you; licking his tongue along your tight clit, grazing his fangs across every fiber of you, and letting out groans the more he feasts on you. In that moment, you judder when you release onto his face and let him absorb the fluids into his mouth.

You let go of his head and rise up to your face, taking you in in your glory. His mouth is leaking with blood and your squirt, and you open wide so that he pours the contents in his mouth into yours. You take in, swallowing every last drop. The glowing in his eyes halt and he returns to what he looked like before; drenched in sweat, hair dripping, tears across his face, blood splattered all over him. He moves in closer to your cheek and leaves you with one last peck. “He whispers into your ear.. All better.

Though you knew something like this would happen, you’re just happy that Toji is back to normal. At least for now.

#jjk toji #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader

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rottenpumpkin13 · 4 months ago

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Can you write AGSZC with Tamagotchi pls?

Sephiroth: At first, Sephiroth did not understand. "It's not real, why must I care for it?" Then Zack made the fatal mistake of showing him what happens if you don't care for it. Sephiroth watched as a neglected Tamagotchi pixelated into a gravestone before disappearing entirely. Sephiroth's jaw went slack. From that moment on, he became a parent. He researched optimal feeding and play schedules. He set alarms to check on it every three hours, even during missions. He planned around its needs. When asked about a strategic initiative in Wutai, he responded with "I need to finish my Tamagotchi's bath first."

Angeal: Angeal was indifferent at first. He fed it. He cleaned up after it. He forgot about it for an afternoon, then forgot about it for a week. When he finally checked, it was already dead. A tiny gravestone mocked him from the screen. Something in him cracked. It wasn't just about the Tamagotchi. It was about him—the child who never had toys like this. The boy who would have treasured it. And now here he was, a grown man, neglecting something others would have cherished. So he compensated. His new Tamagotchi lived in a reinforced belt pouch. It was taken everywhere. It had a feeding schedule. A nap schedule. He spoke to it softly in his office. It was a matter of honor.

Genesis: He had never been more enthusiastic about anything in his life—until he got bored. For the first three hours, he was utterly enchanted. He waxed poetic about nurturing life. He considered poetic names. He made everyone look at it and admire his pixelated child. Then it needed things, and Genesis did not care for that. By the end of the day, the Tamagotchi was shoved into his desk drawer, forgotten. Three months later, Sephiroth—looking for a stapler—unearthed it. It was long dead. The screen was caked in mysterious drawer dust. Sephiroth confronted Genesis:

"You abandoned it."

"I lost interest," Genesis corrected.

"You abandoned it," Sephiroth repeated, before confiscating the device. The Tamagotchi was given a full reset and a better life under Sephiroth's care.

Zack: Zack treated his Tamagotchi like his own child. It had a name. It had voices. "Okay, buddy, time for bed! Sweet dreams, my little guy!" He built an entire narrative around it. He announced milestones. The level of investment was both admirable and concerning. When Sephiroth made a single critical observation about Zack's inconsistent feeding times, Zack actually gasped, clutched his Tamagotchi to his chest, and whispered "How dare you!?" When it died one tragic evening—due to an unfortunate mishap involving Zack getting too caught up with a mission—he mourned. A full funeral was held. Turks attended. Angeal read its eulogy. Sephiroth wore a suit. Lazard entered the SOLDIER lounge alarmed to see a coffin with a funeral being held. He was less impressed to find a keychain toy inside, with Zack sobbing beside it, screaming: "WHY? WHY HIM? TAKE ME INSTEAD GOD WHY?"

Cloud: Cloud had no emotional attachment to his Tamagotchi. It was a task, and he was good at tasks. Unlike the others, Cloud did not forget to feed it. He did not name it. He did not talk to it. He did not let it die. It was, objectively, the best-maintained Tamagotchi in the group. There was something almost unsettling about how efficient he was. No excess affection, just results. When Zack asked him if he liked it, Cloud shrugged. "Not really."

"But—" Zack gestured wildly. "You take such good care of it!"

Cloud shrugged. "It's easier than dealing with people."

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #genesis rhapsodos #ff7 crisis core #angeal hewley #zack fair #cloud strife #crisis core #headcanons

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zackmorriswifey · 4 months ago

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Summary: Before Austin went off to play Elvis, he left your daughter with the cutest teddy bear. Your daughter can cuddle with something that smells like him. Sadly, the teddy bear was lost. You couldn’t find it after a fun day in the park. Now, it’s up to dad to come to the rescue.

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You and Amelia had a wonderful and fun day at the park. Amelia couldn’t put down her bear. Even though. You took it just to let her eat her chicken nuggets hands free. She wouldn’t part with it. Feeding the little teddy bear some of her food.

As you pack your bags and get ready to go, you strap your sleepy little baby into the car seat. She mumbled something about wanting her teddy bear and that’s when you realize you haven’t seen it since lunch.

Oh, the meltdown was preparing to come. The little one beginning to cry, her lips began to pucker as her tears started to flow. This reaction was just the beginning, after which she began to scream and cry. She wants that teddy bear now.

You couldn’t believe you misplaced it. You lifted Amelia from her car seat and headed straight back to the park, where she snuggled comfortably against your waist as you looked around for the bear.

You couldn’t find it anywhere. It was a light brown bear with a pink bow tied around its neck. Austin made sure to spray it with his cologne before he left. He wanted her to have something to remember him by. That was something that kept Amelia calm while he went out to film Elvis.

You've lost the only thing that kept her sane. She began to cry more. The little one was so convinced that her dad would be upset and she would be in trouble. She didn’t want to be in trouble. She was angry with herself for loosing her toy. It wasn't her fault the bear had gotten lost anyways.

You couldn’t calm her down if you tried. You searched for a minute, but nothing appeared. You go back to the car and promise to buy her a new bear. The little girl protested it wouldn't smell like Austin. So that wasn’t a good idea.

You finally got an idea as you picked up your phone and dialed Austin. You were sure it was really late where he was and he was probably very tired. A long day of filming will do that to you. She thought, maybe if Amelia could see Austin and hear his voice. Maybe, she’d calm down.

You dialed his phone number and waited for it to ring. He eventually picked up the phone. You explained what happened and Austin laughed. You couldn’t even begin to understand why he would find this situation funny.

You've spent the entire day with a fussy toddler. Whom now just lost her teddy bear and now they’re even more fussy. Austin calmly apologized and agreed to a FaceTime call. His face finally appeared on the screen.

“hi princess..” Austin's soft voice echoed in the car. He hated to see his little girl so sad. He knew how much she grew attached to that bear. Just along from all the conversations they’ve had over FaceTime. She never left without it.

Amelia’s head perked up. She was so happy to see her dad but also so sad. “the bear is gone daddy..” was all she could say. Her sad face told it all. “you told me not to lose it daddy and I did. I’m sorry.” your daughter cried out.

Austin shook his head. “it’s just a teddy bear lia” he told her trying to calm her down, letting her know that he wasn’t upset that bear was gone. To Amelia, that bear was everything. This item was a special gift given to her by her father who was away. She knew that whenever she missed him, she could just hug the bear.

“but you gave it to me and it’s special” She clenched her teeth again and began to cry loudly. She was devastated by the loss of her teddy bear. It was everything to her. She likes that little toy very much.

“I’ll get you a new one. For now, how about we sing your favorite Elvis song?” Austin offered as he began singing the chorus of Elvis Presley’s teddy bear. It instantly became their favorite song to sing together.

The song is a core memory for them. Because he loved to hug Amelia just as if she was his own personal teddy bear. They spent a lot of time dancing to the song at home. During preparations for the filming of the Elvis Presley movie. It was Amelia's love for the song that prompted Austin to buy her the bear.

This small gesture really cheered Amelia up. She ended the conversation with a smile. It finally got you guys home, and you got her to sleep that night. Leaving one of Austin’s very good smelling hoodies next to her to help her just incase.

The next few days passed and a big box was delivered to your house. You bring it in and Amelia’s eyes are so bright. You already know what it is because you and Austin shared pictures of it. When you open the box, you see a giant teddy bear.

It was bigger than the last one. There is a giant pink bow. It smelled so much like him. It made you tear up because you missed him dearly too. You didn't even get time to express that. Having a toddler was just so crazy.

She hugged the teddy bear and lay on it. “can we call daddy?” The little one asked. You nodded and pulled out FaceTime to call him. The two of you were sitting on the phone talking to Austin when he saw the teddy bear.

He was very happy to see Amelia smiling and in a good mood. He came to check on you as well, making sure you were okay and even bought you some flowers. They are your favorite kind. You also have your own little teddy bear. It smelled like him.

You and Amelia are the luckiest girls in the world. You couldn’t feel more loved by Austin. Counting the days and months only makes it all the more worthwhile. That way, you can be together again. You couldn’t wait for Amelia to see her daddy shine.

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Here’s something short and sweet as a way to give you a break between all the sad stories I’ve been posting. This song is so cute, it made me think of an idea. So, I had to write something right away. I hope you guys enjoy it. 🤎

#austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you

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xkiralix · 4 months ago

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The Divine Creator

Part 1 part 2 part 3

(Name) had never anticipated this would be the outcome of his choice for rebirth instead of resurrection, it worked but in exchange of a lot of trauma that a being like him shouldn’t even have been able to feel. Being born in a lower middle class household with a single mother for half of his life before his father got tired of other cunts and went to play house with his mother. (Name) wouldn’t lie and say he had been happy about it, in his eyes he had no father.

He didn’t know what a father’s love was if it meant his father was only there to receive his A+ calcifications and then vanish.

Then he came across a certain game. His 12 year old self was eager to play the game that had fascinating art and allowed him to forget about his life. Here’s the thing… he was more often than not sulky. Perhaps it was because he had been bullied for smiling at “stupid manwhas”, perhaps because his father beat every smile out of him when his mother was away.

Playing Genshin kept him from jumping off a bridge, he knew it was stupid but he had genuinely gotten attached to them. He told the characters encouraging words from time to time and got furious when violence or any type of harm came their way.

Obviously he freaked out when he started receiving body parts on his mail, more so when he witnessed Zhongli cut off a hand for him and calling him “your grace” while begging for forgiveness through the screen.

…

“Your grace, this lowly servant can’t bear serving you without admitting one’s crimes.” The brunette spoke, interrupting a scene from Fontaine’s mission. (Name) would’ve normally skipped but decided to keep listening, Zhongli appearing on Fontaine’s mission, why had no one made a fuss about this on Tik Tok? He however was taken by surprise when Zhongli pulled out a dagger.

“I need to be forgiven and the only way I can do so is by showing you just how sorrowful I truly am.” He said before raising his arm and cutting his hand off.

“What the fuck?!” (Name) yelled in a shock and disgust and stood up. His eyes widened when the characters that had previously been out of the screen suddenly appeared and tried to pull Zhongli away. (Name) couldn’t handle seeing anymore how blood dripped out of Zhongli’s arms while he begged for forgiveness, Wriothesley trying to pull him back along the lunch guy. All of it stopped when (Name) turned off the game.

…

He stopped playing after that. Then his 15th birthday came, that same day he woke up with a fever but was forced to still go to school. He passed out while crossing a road. And now he was here.

In Teyvat. With his memories.

He had spent the last 2 days on this temple, thinking of what he was supposed to do. He was far too weak to use his powers, his body needed to be “molded”, he should unify (Name)’s body to his own to at least have a decent shape, or he wouldn’t be able to use his powers. By now his acolytes must be running back and forth, going crazy over the where he is. He could barely shut up the voices of their prayers.

Sleeping became a challenge because of the whispers, and because he really wasn't tired anymore. Either way it sucked. (Name) took all his mental strength to bother rising from bed, he needed to eat. 2 days had passed since he last ate. (Name) stretched his limbs and yawned, he walked out of the temple that went back to being a mere rock as soon as he left.

Without any rush he started walking towards Mondstadt, he was definitely in the mood of exploring it this time. When he got to the city he took the time to recognize its beauty, the stone walls certainly looked quite intimidating, it made a good defense against enemies or natural disasters. 2 knights were at the door, (Name) acknowledged their watchful yet concealed eyes, it was clear they took their job seriously but made sure the people wouldn't feel uncomfortable.

When he walked in he was greeted by a stand of flowers, the vendor however was missing. To his left was a blacksmith diligently working and to his right there were other stands. The stone construction added a special touch to the town, it reminded (Name) of one of the earth countries, Germany. It seemed like a place where those romantic moments were bound to happen.

Moments that even his human reincarnation wasn't able to experience. How pitiful.

(Name) wandered through the cobblestone streets of Mondstadt, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling city. The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, mingling with the scent of blooming flowers from the nearby stands. The city was alive with activity—children playing, merchants haggling, and adventurers preparing for their next journey. It was a stark contrast to the quiet, desolate temple he had just left.

The windmills turned lazily in the breeze, and the statue of Barbatos stood tall in the plaza, its serene expression almost mocking him. He wondered if Venti, the carefree bard who was secretly the Anemo Archon, was somewhere nearby, strumming his lyre and singing songs of freedom.

He headed closer to certain individuals who he had attracted his attention ever since his reincarnation saw them through that screen for the first time, he wondered how they’d treat a stranger to their lands who held no particular talent unlike the blond haired one.

He wondered off to them and pretends to bump into them. “Oh, my apologies. I did not notice you.” He said with a worried expression as he faked embarrassment.

Jean, the Acting Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius, standing before him. Her blonde hair was tied back neatly, and her blue eyes held a warmth that contrasted with her authoritative demeanor. “It’s fine Mr,” She paused as she seemed to not know him and realization flashed her… another traveler?

“Welcome to Mondstadt, sir. Is this your first time here?” She was accompanied by Kaeya, the Cavalry Captain, who leaned casually against a nearby wall, his usual smirk playing on his lips.

“Ah, yes,” (Name) replied, offering a small smile. “I’ve heard much about this city. It’s even more beautiful in person.”

Jean nodded, her expression softening. “I’m glad to hear that. If you need any assistance or have questions, don’t hesitate to ask the Knights of Favonius. We’re here to help.”

Kaeya pushed off the wall and stepped forward, his eye glinting with curiosity. He took notice on the stranger’s unique and unknown attire… much like Aether’s. “You seem... different. Not your average traveler, are you?”

(Name) chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. “Just a wanderer passing through. Nothing special.”

Kaeya’s smirk widened, as if he didn’t quite believe him, but he didn’t press further. “Well, if you’re looking for a drink or some entertainment, the Angel’s Share is the place to be. Just don’t let Diluc catch you slacking off.”

Jean shot Kaeya a disapproving look before turning back to (Name). “Ignore him. If you need anything, feel free to visit the Knights’ headquarters. We’d be happy to assist you.”

(Name) thanked them and watched as they walked off. His friendly and nervous smile vanished. These were the characters that were willing to do such atrocities for his attention, and oh he knew that if. they knew who—or what—he truly was he’d be dragged somewhere “safe” by them as soon as they noticed his current form was quite useless in terms of fighting.

As he continued his exploration, (Name) found himself drawn to the sound of music. Following the melody, he arrived at the plaza, where a crowd had gathered around a bard with a lyre. It was Venti, his green hat tilted at a playful angle as he sang a lively tune. His voice was soothing, and for a moment, (Name) forgot about his troubles.

When the song ended, the crowd erupted into applause, and Venti took a dramatic bow. His eyes met (Name)’s, and for a brief moment, there was a flicker of recognition in his gaze. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual carefree smile.

“Thank you, thank you!” Venti said, waving to the crowd. “Your support is always appreciated. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I’ve earned myself a drink.”

The crowd dispersed, and Venti approached (Name), his lyre slung over his shoulder. “You’re new here, aren’t you? I haven’t seen you around before.” (Name) nodded. “Just arrived today. Your music is... captivating.”

Venti grinned. “Why, thank you! Music is the soul of Mondstadt, after all. Say, would you care to join me for a drink? My treat.” (Name) hesitated. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to engage in casual conversation with someone who could potentially recognize him easily. But the earnest look in Venti’s eyes made it hard to refuse. He was still but a weak man to his creations.

“Sure,” he said finally. “Lead the way.”

As they walked to the Angel’s Share, (Name) couldn’t shake the feeling that he was dooming himself more, the wind of Teyvat hadn’t betrayed his will yet. Yeah, that’s why Venti invited him, to see why Teyvat’s wind refused to spill the secrets of his past. With that he relaxed more, reassuring himself that the bard wouldn’t notice how different he was from the local human.

Mondstadt was just the first step. Liyue awaited.

Took me long enough ik, I also got lazy at the end 🫠 hope you enjoyed it though

#yandere sagau #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #yandere x reader #yandere platonic #male reader #Genshin Impanct x male reader

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thehighladywrites · 2 years ago

Text

The Airhead Chronicles

…and the date

-> pairing: cassian x bimbo/ditzy reader

-> summary: finally the day is here, you’re going on a date with cassian!! now you just have to prepare and get ready for it. Cassian is prepared to finally ask you some questions and the mention of your secret friend rubs him the wrong way. But how does the date go, and who on earth opens the door at Cassian’s friends house?…

-> warnings: suggestive themes, nsfw, smut, super fluff, light angst, public sex, yeah, none of you care about getting caught fucking in a restaurant, oral (m.receiving) , bargain tattoos, almost oral (f.receiving), wing play, daddy kink

-> amara’s note: I think this is one of my fav things to write, I really love ditzy reader, she's so fun and cute.

part 1 part 2 part 4 part 5

Startled by a sudden knock, you quickly stood up, intrigued by the unexpected visitor. Opening the door, you were met with a smiling man.

“Hi there pretty lady, are you Y/n?” he asked. After exchanging pleasantries, he handed you a paper and a pen, insisting you sign.

Curious, you replied, “Oh, what’s this for, I’m pretty sure I didn’t order anything, or did I?” Sensing your confusion, the man stepped closer and pointed a finger at a dotted line. “Just sign here, baby. How about I come in and show you?”

Normally, you'd agree to some help because you didn’t really like reading long and confusing papers, but with your date approaching, you looked at him apologetic and declined.

“Sorry, maybe next time. I'm getting ready for a date with this really hot guy, and I have a lot of things to do. But why am I signing this?”

His face turned sour, and he threw a bouquet of flowers at you, muttering something about a special delivery before you signed. He left without saying goodbye, and you tilted your head, wondering if you said something to upset him.

The confusion quickly left your mind when you looked down, eyes wide, and heart beating faster as a huge smile spread on your lips. The bouquet was wrapped around white and pink baby breaths and peonies. You let out a shriek of happiness as you spun around and smelled the fresh, fragrant flowers. They were unlike anything else, handled with care and professionalism.

Scurrying to the kitchen, you pulled out a vase from your cabinets as you filled it with water to put your flowers in. While you fiddled with the petals, you saw a note attached as you opened it.

Reading the note, your eyes lit up with excitement. You twirled around, a broad grin on displayed, absorbing the message:

“Can’t wait to see you tonight, beautiful. I will pick you up, just be ready by 8. - Cassian.”

You halted your twirl, taking a deep breath.

Fucking Gods, you had to look absolutely stunnig, like drop-dead gorgeous. The sexiest dress was a non-negotiable, paired with a cute bag. Your hair needed to be freshly styled, and ohhh, a fresh set of nails was a must, even though it hadn't been a week since your last set.

Let’s be real, you knew you were pretty and didn’t need someone to tell you that, but it was nice to hear nonetheless, especially from Cassian. It was weird, you had known him for just over a week and already you felt a connection to him.

With your plans set, you dove into the whirlwind of preparation. The closet became a battleground of choices as you sifted through dresses, searching for the one that screamed "fuck me right now, please." The chosen outfit hung proudly on the door, awaiting its moment. A stunning sheer black dress with a v-neck, a thigh-high slit, and the best part - it sparkled.

Your hair received the full treatment of preparation and care, making you wonder how you’d display it tonight—curls, an updo, low bun or straight? The decision was as crucial as the dress itself, because what if you wanted to blow him? A ponytail would be ideal, but if you were gonna be fucked missionairy then a ponytail would be super uncomfy. Maybe just some curls then? Yes, you definitely wanted some bouncy curls resulting in you pulling out your hair rollers and pins. It was such a pain to put them on because your arms hurt from keeping them up but you didn’t care. Finally, a cute little bag accompanied the ensemble, adding that perfect touch paired with some simple heels.

The urgency for flawlessness led you to contemplate a fresh set of nails. Despite the recent pampering, the allure of perfection beckoned, and you found yourself on the way to the nail salon. After all, a week felt like an eternity when it came to looking drop-dead gorgeous.

As the appointment at the nail salon progressed, you debated between daring and classic shades. The manicurist, familiar to your frequent visits, skillfully crafted a fresh set that made you smile so hard, your face started hurting, letting out an excited sound.

With your nails perfected, you rushed home to continue the transformation, hair and makeup being the last step. Your dress clung to you like a second skin, accentuating every curve. Your reflection in the mirror confirmed your pursuit of drop-dead hotness. Smiling at yourself you adjusted your hair before putting on your jewelry, marveling at the final result. You really hoped Cassian would compliment you otherwise you’d die. His attention was so addicting and you wanted to be around him every single second for some reason.

Glancing at the clock, you realized the incoming arrival of Cassian. The butterflies in your stomach intensified as you added the finishing touches, ready to open the door to a night filled with excitement and allure.

“Hi Cassie!!” Your smile subdued a bit as you shifted nervously when he just stared at you not saying anything. Should you have worn something different? Maybe gone with the pink you wanted? Maybe he didn’t like your hair…

Cassian stood at the door, his eyes widening as he took in your stunning transformation. His brain seemed to short-circuit, and he simply stared at you with his jaw open, momentarily lost for words in the face of your breathtaking appearance. The snug fabric around your frame made blood rush to his cock, a reaction that almost tempted him to slap his own face. "Am I some kind of teenager or something, gods," he thought to himself, caught in the unexpected whirlwind of emotions your presence stirred.

“Hi sweetheart, fuck, you look absolutely breathtaking,” he managed to exclaim, a genuine smile lighting up his face. He spun you around, getting a good look at you as your perfume filled his nose. Blushing at the compliment, you replied with a happy smile. “Thank you, Cassie. I'm so excited for tonight! Where are we going?”

He offered his arm, and you linked yours with his as you both stepped into the night, ready for the date that awaited. “Don’t worry your pretty, little head about it, it’s a surprise, sweet girl.”

Thank fuck he held you, because you could barely stand with the way your knees wobbled. The urge to just shove him in an alley and give him some life-changing head was just too strong. Cassian looked soooo freaking hot, dressed in a well-fitted suit.His hair had been put in a half bun, his arms were looking soooo massive, and an inexplicable desire to bite them tugged at your thoughts.

Caught in the spell of his side profile , the world around you seemed to fade into the background. Cassian’s voice became a distant hum as your eyes glued to him.

Your mind went hazy as you found yourself daydreaming about him, captivated by the allure of the moment.

Cassian halted mid-sentence in his talk about the restaurant when he noticed your silence. Curiosity painted his expression as he looked down at you, only to find you hazily looking up at him. Your plump lips were slightly parted, and your eyes were wide and sparkly, lost in a momentary enchantment.

Cassian was going to treat himself to some of Rhysands expensive liquor because there was truly something magical about his restraint. The way you looked up to him made his cock painfully hard. There was something submissive and desperate in your gaze. Before he cancelled the night and took you to his room to fuck you senseless, he broke the silence, chuckling, “I must be boring you with all this restaurant talk. What’s on your mind?”

You blinked, snapping out of the enchantment, and mumbled while feeling warm. “Um, no, not at all, Cassie. I was just… appreciating the view.”

His eyebrows lifted in playful surprise, “The view? Of me?”

You nodded with a secretive grin, “Guilty… I mean I can’t help it. You look so handsome. Now tell me about the restaurant.” The conversation resumed, but the sparkle of that moment lingered, adding an extra layer of magic to the evening.

Your brows furrowed as you read the menu. What on earth was an entrecôte? Foie gras? Was that some sort of joke? It was infuriating, you just wanted some food. Looking up at Cassian, you noticed he had already decided and was looking through the wine list. Feeling helpless, you whispered to him, “Um Cassie, I don’t know what this means. If any of this means mushrooms and cilantro, then let me know, they’re nasty.”

He took your menu and brought your hand up to place a kiss on it, “Don’t worry, pretty girl. I’ll take care of it. How does chicken sound?” You nodded, grateful for the escape from the decision-making. Ugh, was being pretty and living too hard? You just wanted to exist without thinking about annoying things.

“Uh-huh, yes please,” you replied. He tilted his head, a playful smile playing on his lips. “My, what good manners you have. Such a good girl.”

The echo of Cassian calling you a good girl sent a shiver down your spine, nearly sending you into a dreamy state. Resisting the magnetic pull of his warmth became a challenge.

Would it really hurt though? Cassian had rented out an entire section of the restaurant for your date, the only other person you’d see during the whole night was a waiter who kept away unless he was serving you food.

Unable to resist any longer, you inched toward him, lifting yourself. Cassian, sitting manspread, welcomed you onto one of his thighs. As you settled, his arm snaked behind your back, keeping you securely in place as you slung your arm over his shoulder while the other traced circles and shapes on his chest. The world outside this private bubble faded, leaving just the two of you in a cocoon of shared warmth and intimacy.

The waiter discreetly approached, and Cassian smoothly placed the order, his attention never wavering from you. The world outside this secluded moment ceased to exist. He was so content he almost forgot one of the reasons he had been so desperate to see you again. Placing a sweet kiss on your cheek and neck, he asked.

“ I’ve been wondering,” he began, his eyes holding a mixture of curiosity and concern, “ There’s not a lot a know about you, and i’d like to change that. I mean have you always lived in Velaris?” You hummed and answered cheerfully, “ No, I used to live in the Hewn City but a friend helped me move here. My family still live there but they think I live in the Day Court, since Velaris is a secret city and all.”

He observed you carefully, wondering what possible friend could’ve gotten you into Velaris without him or the inner circle knowing? Velaris wasn’t some place one just moved to, it was a secret and protected city, warded against anyone who wasn’t welcome. Your answer only made him more curious.

“Yeah, your friend helped you? Do they live here?” You giggled as you looked at him with a “duh” look.

“Of course my friend still lives here, what a silly question! We meet once a month to catch up and he sometimes brings the family to our get-togethers.”

“ How fun, sweet girl. You’ll have to introduce me to your friend, yeah?” you leaned in as his arm became a comforting weight around your waist.

“Yay, that would be so much fun! He’s like this super old guy that I work for but I promise he’s really funny and his wife is such a sweetheart, I love her.” His heart thundred at the excitement you unknowingly pushed through the bond, making him crack a huge smile. Heavens, your were so adorable, he wanted to see you smile forever. “Is he a good boss then? What is it you do for him?” Flashing him a secret smile, you leaned in conspiratorially as you started playing with the buttons of his crisp white shirt.

“I wish I could tell you Cassie, but it’s tip-top secret and I’m bound to never, ever in a million years tell a single soul. I even have this cool tattoo for it.” You whispered as if afraid anyone would hear you before pulling down the strap of your dress and showing him the bargain tattoo.

Cassian's expression froze, his mind racing to fathom the deal you might have struck. Did you grasp the consequences of Night Court's bargain tattoos? The kind of searing fucking pain that awaited anyone attempting to breach its secrecy? The instincts that come with a mating bond made him feel murdereous at the thought of anyone striking a dangerous deal with his mate.

He didn’t want you experiencing the pain of accidentally telling him about the bargain, so he dropped the subject completely, picking up new things to talk about. While waiting for the meal, you tried to attentively listen as Cassian, the general and commander of the Night Court as he had told you, told you the tales of his thrilling adventures and loving family. But he sometimes used big words that made you tilt your head in confusion, he had however noticed it early on and switched to more simple terms, ensuring your understanding of the topic.

Of all of your years living, you had never felt so safe and cared for as you did here with Cassian. Sure your parents never laid hands on you but they certainly didn’t like you very much, calling you incapable and downright stupid. It hurt you, it really did because you tried but it simply wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Cassian, this gorgeous man, noticed you didn’t understand but he didn’t outright dumb it down for you.

He… just used another word with the same meaning he explained and it really made you happy. Because for some reason, his approval and attention was necessary for you to function and you literally couldn’t imagine him ever being disappointed in you.

After dessert was served, Cassian told the waiter and the chef that you were done eating and paid the bill, leaving a generous tip. They left you all alone in your section and the seclusion made you more bold. You certainly didn’t care if anyone saw you blowing him or anything but… it felt more intimate doing in just for him. You were still sat on his thigh as he spoon fed you the delicious chocolate cake.

Chills ran down your arms upon locking eyes with Cassian, and from your position, you explored his face, fingertips tracing a scar along his eyebrow. Your hand moved over his cheekbones, jaw, nose, and finally, his flawless lips. Drawing close, you both whispered intimately, “Can I kiss you, sweetheart?” he rasped, to which you replied in a hushed tone, “Yes, please, Cassie.”

With a tender murmur he said, “my perfect girl,” his soft lips met yours.

As the kiss unfolded, time seemed to slow, encapsulating you both in a world of shared warmth and intimacy. Cassian's lips, soft against yours, the room faded away, leaving only the electric energy between you two. You had kissed people before, but nothing felt as addictive and pleasurable as this.

Cassian’s body shaped perfectly against yours as he pulled you on his lap, making you straddle his hips, legs on either side of him as your dress bunched. His hair was pulled out of his bun as you dragged your manicured nails across his scalp.

He out out a groan as his hands found your hips, his hold tightening as he ground upwards making you moan at the contact.

Breaking the kiss, Cassian's eyes held a newfound tenderness and hunger. “You're something else, you know that?” he whispered, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and affection. A shared smile lingered between you, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken emotions that had just passed between your lips.

A loud shatter was heard as you looked up panting, absolutely forgetting that you two may have a section rented out, but you were still out in public and if anyone wanted to stretch their legs, they certainly wouldn’t miss you grinding in Cassian’s lap, lips puffy and hair tousled.

Cassian couldn’t have cared less even of he tried to. Being the lord of bloodshed, the general leading the armies of the night court, and one of the greatest warriors in the history of Prythian granted Cassian liberties in his eyes. Unlike ordinary fae males, he wasn't restricted from openly displaying affection for his mate at any time or place. There wasn’t a person on earth that could tell him what to do with you.

Fucking in public didn’t scare him or make him feel embarrassed. No, Cassian fucking loved the thrill of being caught. Loved the little voice in his head telling him that someone would be walking in on him pleasuring his mate, your face scrunched up in pleasure as someone catches you, your heartbeat quickening at the taboo scene.

But he’d never in his life put you in a position that made you uncomfortable, he’d rather chop his cock off. So he looked at your face, searching for any fear.

“You okay? Wanna stop, baby?” The thought of you getting off his lap and feeling shame or embarrasement was enough to make him feel nauseous. But that all quickly left when you looked down at him with blushy cheeks, a wide grin on your face as you laughed. “Wow, that sounded really close. Guess you better fuck me quickly Cassie, we wouldn’t want someone to catch us, now would we? I mean that would be soooo bad and we’d be kicked out, right?”

Cassian easily detected the false concern written all over your face. There was a blend of amusement, warmth, and hunger in your expression. You playfully pouted, furrowing your brows in mock thinking as you tilted your head.

Looking up darkly at you he flashed you a feral grin, furrowing his brow in mock thinking. “Of course. It would be very, very bad if someone caught me with my head between your legs, I mean whatever would we do?”

You stood up, hopping up on the table in front of him, propped up like a post-dessert treat with your legs spread infront of his hungry gaze.

“ Let’s find out. I think you missed some of your dessert, baby. Come eat me up, Cassie…” He put his hands around your ankles as he removed your heels, then hissed when he felt your stocking-clad foot rub against his strained cock. Your eyes caught his wings ruffling as curiosity prompted your question.

“Cassie, why are your wings so big? Can I touch them or would it hurt?”

His wings rustled, then tightened in instinct. Illyrian wings were absolutely not to be touched by anyone without invitation, they were to be protected at any cost. His people had been taught to never let anyone get close enough to them, often punching first and then asking questions if someone ever touched them.

“No, sweet girl, they wouldn’t hurt if you touched them. It’s just a sacred part of me that I as an Illyrian protect with my life.” You observed the intricate patterns on his wings, fascinated by the interplay of light and shadow, gold and read hues swirling.

Cassian, sensing your curiosity, continued, “Touching them is a privilege reserved for the one I’ll one day trust deeply, a gesture of profound connection between two mates.” His gaze held a promise, hinting at a deeper connection yet to unfold. You slumped slighty as you realized that you probably weren’t his mate and quickly lowered you rising hand.

“Oh, okay then. They seem really cool anyways, your future mate is quite lucky huh?” Your eyes met his own filled with longing and hope.

Growing up in The Hewn City, the stories of mates filled your imagination, creating a yearning for a connection forged by The Mother Herself. However, your parents swiftly dismissed any ideas of such fantasies, emphasizing a more practical approach to your future. The concept of a deep, equal partnership and lover was a cherished daydream, overshadowed by the reality your parents presented.

Amidst gossip with friends about the mysterious idea of mates, your parents insisted on abandoning these fairytales. Their focus remained fixed on preparing you for a marriage that would secure wealth and influence, mirroring the traditions of countless pairs in the city. The prospect of bringing shame to the family loomed as an unthinkable consequence, one that could lead to disownment or in some cases death.

You were incredibly fortunate to have made a friend that helped you out, otherwise you’d probably be some unhappy bride whose only task would be baby-making and keeping quiet.

Your eyes filled with tears as you started thinking about the male infront of you. If the bond hadn’t snapped for you yet, then you probably weren’t mates and it made you sick thinking that there was someone else out there who’d snatch Cassian up. A hand brushing up your calf brought you back to reality as you were met with eyes filled with worries.

“No, hey, what's going on, sweetheart? Why are you crying, hm?” Cassian asked, concern etched across his face. Overwhelmed by sadness, you slumped forward, letting out deep sobs.

"Don't think m’your mate, Cassie. I really, really wanna be with you forever, but you'll probably choose your mate if they ever come along. Also, I probably have a mate somewhere, and I feel like we shouldn't keep going because I'm falling for you, like really hard, and I really don't think I'd survive it if we ended things before they even really started.”

Your wrecked sobs made him sick with guilt. The realization that he was the cause of your tears hit hard. His hands found their way to your back, gently caressing it as he tried to provide comfort. Unable to bear it any longer, he blurted out the words before more sobs could escape,

“ I’m your mate. I felt the bond snap the first time we met, baby. I didn’t want to you to feel like you had to accept the bond or feel pressured to discover it. I wished for you to find out on your own, at your own pace. And I’m truly sorry for the pain i’ve caused you. If I had known this was something you really wanted, I would’ve told you straight away, sweet girl. I was wrong to assume and I’m deeply sorry. Please forgive me?”

Cassian’s words hung in the air, a revelation that shifted the atmosphere between you. Stunned, you looked up, eyes searching his for any sign of anger or irritation at your sudden breakdown or any deception. His gaze, however, held a sincerity that echoed in the depths of your shared connection, held a mix of pain, guilt and sadness paired with hope.

“You’re really mine? My mate?” the question was carried by your whispering voice. Cassian nodded and confirmed,

“Yes, i’m yours as you are mine.” The words triggered that golden bond, snapping the thread of life and love deep in your chest. Holding a hand to your chest, you looked at him breathing deeply.

“Mate. You’re my mate!” you shrieked and kissed all over his face, ending with a big kiss on his lips, making him laugh.

“Um, so can i now touch ‘em?” you questioned as you nodded your head in the direction of his massive wings. His back straightened and he explained,

“My wings have never been out during intimate encounters with females. It makes me feel vulnerable and I don’t like it. But for you… for you I’d pluck the stars from the night sky if you asked me. Go ahead, sweetheart but be careful they can be quite-”

He didn’t even finish his sentence when he felt your warm hands caressing the ridge of his leathery wings. Cassian twisted in his seat when you went over a certain spot. His whole body flashed with warmth, leaving a trail of goosepumps as his stomach flipped.

His face revealed delight, accompanied by low groans as your nails traced over the delicate wing. Intrigued, you inquired about the sensation. He leaned in, softly blowing air near your ear, eliciting goosebumps and a slight arch in your body.

He knew he’d come undone if you kept touching him so he picked you up, swept everything away from the table and put you on your back. Perhaps he should’ve been more quiet because when the waiter hurriedly came to check on the broken dishes, he received a savage snarl, so unlike the usually levelheaded male.

“ Get. Out.” Your mate gritted towards the poor fae. He’d make sure to leave another huge tip, but he didn’t have time to think of it now that the bond was so fresh and there was a male staring down his half naked mate. Cassian finally turned his attention to you when you grabbed his cock through his slacks.

“ c’mon mate, need you so bad, please.” you grabbed the back of his head, smashing his lips against yours as you whined and mumbled about needing his cock inside you. Any sort of foreplay was out of the question, you’d play later. You felt like you might literally die if you didn’t feel him closer to you right now.

You were consumed by an overwhelming desperation, feeling as if you'd burst out of your skin without his immediate presence. The ache for more of him intensified, a desperate longing for his touch to ravage you entirely. Tears welled in your eyes as you begged, desperate to be fucked right there, yearning to be claimed by your mate.

The desperation in your voice spurred cassian on as his hands skillfully removed his belt, pulling out his hard cock as he slid in and out, again and again and again. Rocking the table as he thrust into you hard, filling you up deliciously. Your mouths found each other in a deep kiss as you pulled his hair, earning a deep groan.

“You’re so fucking beautiful all spread out for me. My precious mate,” he mumbled against you.

“mmh, harder please- fucking me soo gooddd” You moaned. The pleasure was building up in your belly making you squirm against him “Please, daddy, let me cum.”

He halted all his movements, pulling you out of your bubble of pleasure. Why did he stop? You felt your high fizzle down as you felt tears in your eyes. “Cassie, why did you stop? I almost finished… s’not fair” you whined, crossing you arms as you looked away, feigning disbelief and anger.

You seriously hadn’t noticed what you called him? Were you fucked out already? Well, whatever. Cassian’s ego boosted immensely at the fact that you had mindlessly called him daddy.

“You’re so good for me, such a beautiful, beautiful girl. My mate makes me proud.”

His praise made you simultaneously melt against his body yet tighten around his cock as a new rush of slick gushed out of you. Bringing his one hand to your nipple while the other played with your clit, Cassian was determined to make you cum then take you home. It had to be your house because he really couldn’t promise he wouldn’t attack Rhys or Azriel if they laid their eyes on you, let alone saw your vulnerable, fucked out state.

The simultaneous pleasure made your head spin as you grabbed his arm to steady youself.

“feels..” you swallow the glob of saliva pooling on your tongue. “f-feels s’good, daddy. m’gonna cum…” His thrusts didn’t slow down as he was met by your relaxed expression - your eyes had crossed as your tongue lolled out a bit, making you drool. A few more pumps and he felt his knees wobble with intensity. You screams of pleasure were muffled by his hand as you came.

“gotta be quiet baby, lest someone catches us” groaning out the last part, Cassian pumps once, twice and finishes deep inside with as he slumps forward, head nuzzled against your neck, breathing in your intoxicating scent.

Driven by the fresh mating bond, he succumbed to a primal urge, covering your naked and relaxed form. Desperation fueled his actions, and protective instincts surged as he struggled with the dilemma of getting you home without causing harm, his every move tinged with the urgency of preserving your safety.

Wanting more, you pull him closer and wrap your legs around him. “daddy, i want more. please let’s go home because the table is kinda uncomfy n i wanna be on my bed instead.” Hands slither around you, pulling you up with as you clung to him. He drops a stack of money on the table to cover what he destroyed plus an appreciation for leaving him alone, gods know he would’ve shown no restraint if that waiter had been a little more bold.

“ s’okay cas i got this,” the whole restaurant fades into black before a cozy porch is replaced with the murmur of the restaurant. You’d winnowed home but not inside, leaving you right outside the door.

“ Sweetie, is your house warded or are you capable of winnowing inside too?” you shook your head and giggly responded,

“ mm, no, my house is protected from bad guys and only people i want can get inside. My friend fixed it for me, he’s super nice and you should totally meet him sometime.” The mention of another guy leaving your lips was enough for Cassian to make his eyes twitch but you looked so happy so he just nodded in agreement.

Opening the door, you welcomed Cassian into your cozy house. As he stepped in, his widened as his eyes roamed across the spacious hallway featuring a body-length mirror, perfect for a quick self-check before heading out, you told him. The hall led to a spacious living room with high ceilings exuding luxury, and the massive kitchen boasted pink appliances, a charming detail that seemed to define your style, he noticed.

His smile widened as he took in the cutesy and predominantly pink decor scattered throughout the house. It was a unique touch that resonated with your personality. As you guided him up the stairs, he marveled at the size of the home, realizing it was quite spacious for a single person.

Passing by several empty rooms, you finally opened the grand bedroom. The king-sized bed with frilly white sheets and an array of pink pillows dominated the space, surrounded by what seemed like an army of stuffed animals, a table adorned with the flowers he sent you this morning. Turning to the left he say your huge closet with clothes littered over the floor. You ran and closed the door behind you, leaning against it as you let out a nervous laugh, “ oh, that’s just my closet. it’s a bit messy so let’s just not look there.”

You bit your lips as your eyes squinted in the dim light. He looked so delicious and you wanted more. wanted your mate, closer. Despite being mere feet apart, an insatiable need for closeness overcame you. Closing the gap, you kissed him, reigniting the connection that began at the restaurant, determined to continue it throughout the night.

The night with your mate unfolded in a series of intimate moments, he put you in new positions and taught you pleasures you never imagined. His expertise left you in a constant state of bliss, with every moment dedicated to mutual satisfaction. You had slept for about an hour or two before going at it again when he stood up and stretched, the sight enough for you to tackle him and ride him right there on your fluffy carpet.

As dawn approached, you marveled at the fact that you had enough restraint to let him slip away and prepare breakfast. The lingering sensations and shared experiences had created a bond that extended beyond the physical, making the morning after feel like a continuation of the enchanting night. Now you laid in the protective arms of you lover, looking at him while biting your lips to keep from pouncing in him.

“If you keep staring at me like that, we won't leave the house ever,” you looked away from his gaze, blushing furiously.

“Maybe I don't wanna leave the house. I wanna be with you forever and ever, cassie” you whispered, nestling closer and kissing his cheek, a familiar gesture of affection.

He chuckled warmly, deeply and kissed you back before your broke the kiss.

“Cas, you mentioned your friends live here. Can I meet them? You spoke about them like you really, really love them,”you inquired, sensing a shift in the air as his grip tightened around you.

“Another time, sweetheart. Right now, I need you alone. I can't even think about leaving you,” he confessed, his tone carrying a protective intensity.

“Do you know much about the mating bond?” you explained that you knew it was two people fated together in a perfect match but that was all your parents allowed you to know. He nodded and explained,

“A newly mated couple can be very... let's say, unstable. There have been many cool and collected males and females who lost their minds when someone laid their eyes on their mate for too long. Sane people have abandoned all critical thinking wherever their mate is involved. Their first and only thought is their mate’s safety and happiness. People have died for provoking newly-mated. So, please, give me a little time because there's a very likely chance I might kill someone for looking at you a bit too much." This…frenzy will cool down after a while but it’s very intense when it’s so new.”

The gravity in his words conveyed the depth of his commitment and the primal instincts that fueled it.

You were fucked in the head for sure because the realization that Cassian would fiercely protect you, even kill someone for you, sent a thrilling shiver down your spine, an unconventional yet undeniably arousing form of desire.

Without a word, you shuffled down, ready to express your gratitude and desire in a way that words could never fully convey, letting your mouth and hands express your love and gratitude.

—

For almost three weeks, you reveled in the cocoon of intimacy, exploring every inch of each other's souls and bodies within the confines of your shared space. Cassian's presence became a comforting constant, and there wasn't a single room in the house that he hadn’t fucked you in. Repeatedly.

However, the inevitable reality of his responsibilities tugged at Cassian's conscience. His jaw tightened, and his eyes darkening slightly as he confessed,

“I hate to say this, baby, but I have to go back. My family is looking for me, and they're worried.”

A pout formed on your lips as the idea of him leaving weighed heavily on your heart.

“You really gotta go?” Your doe-eyes mirrored the sadness and pain of his departure, glossing over in tears at the thought of him not being by your side.

One look into your eyes and he knew there was no chance he could leave you.

“You know what, fuck that. There's no way I'm leaving you. So how would you feel about meeting my family?”

Cassian dropping the idea of meeting his family made you think. Would they like you? He always spoke highly of them, and it got you wondering if you'd measure up. You knew you weren't the brightest tool in the shed or however the saying went but you hoped they'd see something in you that's good enough for him. The old voices of your parents kept echoing in your head.

"You're only good if you keep your mouth shut."

"How did I end up with such a dumb daughter?"

"You’re prettier when you don't talk."

Cassian sensed your unease, and he gently took your hands, looking into your eyes with a reassuring smile.

“Hey, don't worry about a thing. My family will adore you as much as I do. You're more than enough, just the way you are.”

His words carried a sincerity that eased the knots in your stomach. You peppered kisses all over his face and mentally thanked him for the reassurance.

He laughed, kissing you and repeating those reassuring words until it was time to leave. Putting on a cute, blue summer dress, you skipped alongside him, blissfully unaware of the imposing aura he now exuded due to the fresh bond.

As the beautiful estate by the river came into view, you marveled at the picturesque landscape. Holding a homemade cake in one hand and Cassian's hand in the other, you both approached the door.

However, huge confusion struck as your eyes widened upon seeing who opened it.

🏷️ taglist: @justasillylittlegoofyguy

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lilasamaaa · 1 year ago

Text

Wicked games | Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader

Genre | Fluff, some light angst.

Word count | 1.5K.

Warnings | Some sexual innuendos, reader playfully gaslighting Max.

Summary | You love Max, you really do. But there’s just something about your brother’s teammate… as a driver, of course.

Author's note | This piece was requested! Thanks to the lovely anon who came up with the idea, I had so much fun writing it! This is shorter than what I usually write, but I wanted to keep this one light and fun :)

"Babe?" Max's voice comes from the living room. "Are you ready to go?"

This weekend, it's the iconic Monaco Grand Prix, and you're delighted not to have to take a flight and endure jet lag from the other side of the world for once. Not that you're complaining about having the privilege to travel so much, but you understand what flight attendants mean when they say that flying makes you age prematurely. Before the bustling week begins and paralyzes the entire city, you, your brother, and Max had agreed to go eat lunch at your favorite place before the boys had to attend their pre-race press conference.

"I'm almost done," you shout back, placing bobby pins in your bun, when you hear the footsteps of your boyfriend approaching until they reach the door.

"We're..." Max starts before his gaze lands on you. "Oh, no, baby. There's no way you're wearing that."

You arch an eyebrow, observing your boyfriend in the large mirror of the bathroom.

"What's wrong with my outfit?" you ask, tilting your head.

"You're not really going to wear that, are you? Not while holding my hand?" Max replies, starring at your white tennis skirt and red Ferrari polo while you let out a hearty laugh.

"I might be your girlfriend, Max Verstappen, but I'm a Ferrari fan first and foremost. You knew this when you first asked me out."

"Of course I know, baby, but there's a difference between supporting Ferrari and... walking around with their colors on the street. With me."

"Are you playing territorial right now?" you ask, putting both hands on his chest, struggling to suppress your laughter.

"If you're so set on wearing red, why don't you try something more... Discreet? Like the red dress I brought you from Miami?"

"I'm wearing the polo, Max. It'll make Charles happy. And Carlos too," you add, winking at your boyfriend before walking towards the living room.

"Huh? What's the connection with Carlos?" Max asks, following you. "Is Carlos invited to the restaurant?"

Ever since Max and you started dating, several years ago, this has been your favorite game. Never gets old. You just love mentioning the Scuderia and its drivers. It's not that he hates the team, no, after all, as Sebastian once said, everyone's a Ferrari fan. But while Max understands your attachment to the team in relation with your brothers, there's one thing he finds less understandable... Your fascination with the other driver.

"You didn't tell me Carlos was coming," Max says again, still following around while you put on your jewelry.

"I didn't think it was important," you shrug, smirking.

Let it be clear : you don't feel anything for Carlos. No attraction whatsoever. But ever since the Spaniard joined the team and became a close friend of Charles, your relationship naturally developed to the point where today, you genuinely consider Carlos as a member of your family. You've even met his own, spent holidays with them, and you've crashed at Carlos' place multiple times before. Sometimes, when you need someone to talk to and Charles and Max are too biased, too closely involved with you to provide good insight, you call Carlos. The same way the driver always comes to you when he's got girls troubles. Yes, the two of you share a beautiful, tight bond. And knowing there's no ambiguity between the two of you (Max knows it too, deep down), you love driving your boyfriend crazy by mentioning Carlos.

"What's the matter, Max?" you ask, turning around, smiling at him.

"Look, I don't say anything when you sleep on his couch, or when you spend hours on the phone with his sisters. It doesn't even bother me when you check his results, and I surely didn't say anything when you celebrated his victory in Australia while my car was giving me hell," Max continues, gesturing with his hands. "But isn't this a bit much?"

"What is?"

"You said we were going out... As a family? Like, your brother, you and me?"

"Carlos is family," you reply, playing dumb.

"You..." Max starts, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, yeah. Whatever." your boyfriend says, throwing his hands in the air.

As Max and you arrive hand in hand in front of the restaurant where Charles and Carlos are waiting, you don't miss the look your brother gives you upon seeing you dressed in the red polo.

"You're fucking impossible," Charles mutters while kissing your cheek.

Once inside, as the four of you walk over to your table, you still see the opportunity to drive Max crazy by sitting across from Charles. Next to Carlos. Diagonally, your boyfriend watches you, eyebrows furrowed, a hint of annoyance in his eyes.

"Miami was so fun," you start, taking the menu.

"You and I must have a different definition of the word" Max says, rolling his eyes.

"Well, it's not so unpleasant to see someone else cross the finish line before you, for once," you reply teasingly.

"Like in Melbourne?" Max asks with an ironic smile.

"Like in Melbourne," you nod, winking at your boyfriend before turning your attention to the Spaniard. "You did so good, Carlos. I'll have you know that I was rooting for you from the start."

"Yeah," Charles interjects, rolling his eyes. "We know."

The table is engulfed in a heavy silence, and you enjoy yourself so much, your eyes sparkling mischievously.

"There's some tension in here, am I right?" Carlos asks after some time, looking at all three of you in turn.

"She's been bugging me about you all morning," Max replies, taking a sip of his coke. "She thinks it's funny."

"Why would you do that?" Carlos asks, looking at you, eyes wide. "You know he's going to push me off-track because of you, next time."

"You're better than them, that's all," you reply, eyes fixated on the menu in front of you. "They just can't admit it."

"Now, that's just nasty coming from my own sister," Charles says, laughing. "Take that back."

"Leave her to it," Max says to your brother, giving you a meaningful look. "She's decided to be bratty today. She knows it drives me crazy."

"We should all know less about each other," Carlos says before gesturing for the waiter to come over, while Charles tries to hide the red from his face with his menu.

The meal goes well, the false tensions easing over a succession of delicious dishes. But you're not done with your little game. Not yet. As the server clears your plates and refills your wine, you lean in towards Carlos.

"What dessert do you recommend? I'm in the mood for something sweet," you ask Carlos, fluttering your eyelashes innocently.

Across from you, your brother sighs, running a hand across his face, while Max stares at you in a way you know all too well. A look that tells you that once the two of you set foot back in your shared apartment, you're going to pay for your behavior. Big time. But for now, you don't care, leaning over Carlos' menu, your shoulders pressed together. The Spaniard is so innocent, so far from imagining that you're using him to lead your boyfriend exactly where you want him.

"Their crème brûlée is delicious," the driver replies mechanically, eyes still looming over the piece of paper.

"Crème brûlée it is, then," you reply, setting back in your chair. "I just love to make them crack," you finish, locking eyes with Max.

That's it. You're fucked. Max's usually clear eyes are dark with annoyance and desire. Feeling the heat in your lower belly, you lower your gaze, finding it hard to meet your boyfriend's eyes. You can't wait to get home, knowing that with the afternoon of interviews ahead of him, your boyfriend will have to suppress his desire until tonight, amplifying his frustration. After dessert, the four of you head to the cashier, where Max pays for everyone before leading you all outside.

Carlos gives you a quick hug before heading back to his car, promising to call you soon, knowing that the other two drivers will follow him in a few moments. Charles approaches you, and you throw yourself in his arms, pressing your nose against his neck.

"You've got to stop doing that," your brother mumbles playfully in your ear. "You're not the one who has to deal with his awful mood in the paddock afterward."

"He's just so easy to rile up," you say, as both of you let out a laugh.

Charles pinches your cheek before waving to Max and joining Carlos in his car. You find yourself facing Max and give him a radiant smile. Perfectly innocent.

"You're the worst," your boyfriend starts, crossing his arms against his chest.

"You just love me," you say, sticking out your tongue.

"I'm going to ruin you tonight," he concludes, pulling you towards him before kissing you passionately, his hands grazing your buttocks, barely covered by your short skirt. "Show you who's better than who."

"I can't wait," you mutter against his mouth, softly biting his lower lip before taking the keys from his car in the back pocket of his jeans.

"Can't wait," you repeat, watching your boyfriend walk away until he disappears into the backseat of Carlos' car.

#f1 #f1 2024 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #charles leclerc #leclerc!reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #lilasamaaa

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