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#he sounds so miffed there
y-eontan · 5 months
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coaching the girlie that she Should by all means make her boyfriend help her cook the food he demanded of her and that is not endearing that his repertoire consists of Scrambled Eggs.
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rowarn · 8 months
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TAKING WHAT YOU NEED (m.)
tags: afab!reader, no prns, a smidgen of hurt/comfort, soft!simon as usual, established relationship
cw: wet&messy, masturbation(reader), multiple orgasms, riding him<3, u pin him down and he lets u, creampie, simons uncut bc i said so, tiny praise, overstimulation
note: i wrote this against my will it was supposed to be simon bein lazy and making u ride him and do the work and it turned into a sickening beast. please enjoy it. MDNI!
; in which ur terribly horny and neglected for simon but hes so busy and tired u have no choice but to take what u need &lt;/3
3.5k words
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he's been so busy lately, almost distant without meaning to. you still get the sweet little bits of affection he always gives; a kiss to your forehead, and soft hand on your back when he passes behind you in the kitchen, your hand wrapped in his while u watch tv late at night, his hand petting your hair as you lay against his chest in bed.
but you want more, you're greedy.
it's been days since he last touched you. you're not used to the dry spells, simon always willing and ready to fuck u stupid into the mattress until u cant keep your eyes open anymore.
ur fingers simply could never compare to his. he's a man who studied your body, spent the better part at the beginning of your relationship playing with you and learning what exactly made you cum the hardest and easiest -- what your favorite spots and positions were. ur fingers tired quickly, leaving you with an orgasm u knew would be better if simon was the one with his fingers buried in your pussy
what did he expect you to do, honestly? when he came out of the shower with his towel low on his hips? his back to you as he rifled through his drawers looking for something comfy to sleep in, his back muscles flexing with the movement? were you just supposed to be able to roll over and sleep, go take a shower and act as if your panties weren't sticking to you from looking at him?
you wanted him so badly that it actually brought tears to your eyes. you didn't care how silly it was; you wanted him so bad it hurt.
"si..." you whimper, unable to stop how your voice wobbled when you spoke.
his head snaps back to look over his shoulder, brown eyes wide in concern. he briskly walked to the edge of the bed where you crawled to, sitting on your knees looking up at him pitifully.
"what is it, love? what's wrong?" his eyebrows were furrowed as he cupped your cheek, thumbing over the soft skin as his eyes analyzed every inch of you for signs of injury -- a little habit he always had.
"wan' you," you whine, placing your hands flat on his chest, moving down over his stomach where his abs flexed under the ticklish touch.
he scoffs, rolling his eyes before batting your hands away, "thought you were actually upset."
he sounds a little miffed, turning his back to you again to pull out the pair of sweats he had been eyeballing. he lets his towel fall and pauses when he hears you actually whine.
he says your name low in his chest, a warning. whether he actually wants you to stop because he's not in the mood or he just doesn't want to get started with it, you don't know. but it makes you pout a little, flopping back in the bed with a huff.
you hear simon shuffling about, getting changed into the sweats before turning off all the lights, save for a little nightlight you keep on beside you until you're ready to sleep -- on the dimmer side so it doesn't bother simon while he sleeps.
he crawls into bed with a sigh, leaning over where you're still pouting into the pillows to kiss your temple.
"i'm just tired, love," he coos, no malice or annoyance to be found in his voice. his hand comes up to rub your back and you fucking whine again, making him pause, "pouting like this is a little pathetic."
he's teasing you, you can hear the huff of a laugh under his voice. tears prick your eyes again and you petulantly push his hands away to sit up. he's leaning back against the headboard, staring straight at you.
"it's not my fault you've been neglecting me!" you whine, crossing your arms over your chest.
he actually throws his head back and laughs, "neglecting you? 'cause i haven't given you dick in a few days?"
"it's been more than a few days!" you spit back. although he's taking your bratty behavior in stride, you're actually a little annoyed.
he rolls his eyes and holds back a yawn, "you'll live. just...use that little vibrator you've got, it'll get the job done."
he goes to roll over and go to sleep but you make a noise that doesn't sound like your usual pouting -- it sounds actually upset. it pauses him in his tracks and he looks at you through the dim lighting.
"it's not just that," you mumble, flopping forward to smush your cheek against his chest, "i wanna have sex because i like being close to you, si...of course it feels amazing but i like being connected with you like that....'cause i love you."
he's still for a moment before his hand finds purchase on your back, softly rubbing against you in slow circles. he hums in his chest and kisses the crown of your head.
"'m sorry, love," he coos, "didn't think about that."
"it's okay..." you mutter before sobering up and sitting up to smile at him, "u get some sleep, i'm gonna go...take a shower."
he watches you crawl out of bed and root through your drawer, pulling out that vibrator he just mentioned and slink into the bathroom. it makes his heart ache a little but he slowly lies back against his pillow. his eyelids grow heavy as he lays there and before he knows it, he falls asleep.
he wakes again when you crawl back into bed, the smell of soap still fresh and wafting off of you. you keep your back to him as you curl into yourself in that cute little way that you do. it makes him drowsily smile to himself before he closes his eyes again.
but he can't fall asleep. you begin shifting and fidgeting almost as soon as he settles, it keeps him awake. he wonders what the problem is but his tongue feels heavy in his mouth.
you roll onto your back and he hears you sigh to yourself. his eyes crack open and he sees you staring at the ceiling. you glance over at him, not seeing the way his eyes are ever so slightly open.
he watches you slowly spread your thighs and your hand slide under the blanket, watches the way your brows furrow as you begin to slowly work at yourself.
his cock twitches in his pants; as tired as he is, no man would be able to sit there like nothing was happening while watching the one he adored touch themself.
he watches you, vaguely hears the wet, sticky noises of you touching yourself. he wonders if you're just working your clit in tiny little circles or if you've maybe stuffed a finger or two inside to get the feeling of being stretched. his cock hardens even further against his thigh and the sleepiness he felt begins to melt away but he can't bring himself to fully open his heavy lids.
after a few minutes, you make a frustrated little huff and pull your hand out from under the blanket, using a tissue on your night table to wipe your fingers off before flopping back into bed. you don't make another move to touch yourself, instead stare into the very dimly lit room in what he can fully understand is frustration. he even hears your sniffle a little bit.
his heart gives a painful little tug. he watches you close your eyes and obviously attempt to fall asleep. his own cock is throbbing by now and he's sure you're uncomfortably wet.
"got a problem, love?" he asks softly, voice thick and heavy with sleep.
he sees you jump and your eyes snap open before you look at him, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. how cute, he thinks.
"si?" you whisper, "did i wake you? i'm sorry..."
he can actually hear the guilt in your voice as you apologize, "all your tossin' and turnin', not a man in the world woulda been able to sleep through it," you look even guiltier and he reaches out to place his hand over yours that's on your stomach above the blanket, "thought you went and took a shower to take care of that problem?"
you look almost defeated and shrug, then a look of embarrassment crosses your face and he feels the need to click his tongue and tell you none of that, but you speak before he can, "couldn't um...you know...finish..."
he's quiet when you say that. he could tell, obviously. the way you pulled your hand out of your panties and nearly cried in frustration. he huffs through his nose in a noise you mistake for annoyance and give him a sheepish, half-hearted smile.
"sorry, si," you mutter, leaning over to kiss his nose, "i'll be still so go back to sleep, 'kay?"
he watches you lean over and flick the switch to your little nightlight, plunging the bedroom into complete darkness at last. he feels you shift one last time and then nothing.
he should simply go to sleep, he needs sleep. he's got a busy day ahead of him, like always. his hard on is starting to flag from watching the sad little display of you so embarrassed and disheartened. he could easily close his eyes and drift off, get his precious z's in.
but he just can't. knowing that you're going to sleep with sticky panties and completely unsatisfied because you can't seem to make yourself cum despite how badly he knows you need it.
he sits up and leans over you, hearing you make a confused little noise before he flicks the dim little light back on. you're staring at him in confusion but he doesn't offer any answers as he grabs your arm and hoists you out of the blanket you'd nestled yourself under. you let him manhandle you until you're sitting on his lap with him laid back in his pillows still.
"let's get this off you, love," he mutters, hands sliding up the t-shirt of his that you wore.
you make another confused noise but let him strip the fabric off of you anyway, "si..? what are you doing?"
"what do you think?" he asks, shoving the blankets away from him and haphazardly tugging the band of his sweats down so his half-hard cock is freed.
"y-you should be sleeping, si, really--" he interrupts you by forcing you to stand on your knees so he can tug your panties down and off.
you're so wet that there’s a mess of stickiness that clings to the fabric, making little strings that break when he pulls them down all the way.
"fuckin' hell, love," he whispers, his cock quickly hardening completely once again against his stomach, "you were plannin' to sleep while you were this fuckin' wet?"
you look sheepish again, "w-what else was i supposed to do..?"
he grits his teeth because he knows you're right; he hadn't exactly done anything except brush you off and tell you to deal with it yourself. it wasn't like he gave you the green light to ask him for help.
"sorry, love," he whispers, cupping the back of your head to tug you down for a kiss, "shouldn't 'ave been such an ass."
"wha-?" you shake your head, "you weren't, si. you were tired and i was just bein’ too needy."
he huffs out of his nose and grabs your hips, shifting so you sit directly on top of his heavy cock. your eyes roll back a little at the feeling of his hot length against your sensitive cunt.
"nah, was bein' selfish," he mutters, "knew you wanted it 'nd i chose to sleep. you even told me you just wanted to be close with me and i shrugged it off. i've missed you too, love, you know?"
"really?" you ask softly and his heart gives that painful throb in his chest again. had you doubted him? that didn't sit right with him.
"course..." he whispers, biting his lip. he wasn't used to being vulnerable and open with his feelings, so being put on the spot while telling you how he missed you made an uncomfortable feeling stir in his chest.
quickly understanding this, you shift against his cock, grinding your hips back and forth in smooth, slow motions. it makes his head sink back into the pillow; you're so wet that you slide effortless against him, covering him in a coat of slick juices. your motions also make his foreskin slide along his length as well, making him twitch every time the leaky head is stroked.
"fuckin' hell..." he groans through gritted teeth, "c'mon love, you do the work, yeah?"
you desperately nod your head and stand on your knees, gripping his cock to line him up with your entrance. he stops you for a moment with a hand on your wrist, a little glare in his eyes.
"you need prep?" he asks, a sweet little question that makes your heart melt despite yourself.
simon was a lot to take, thick and long. he always bumped against your back wall before he even fully bottomed out. the stretch was a sting that always made you both pause until it went away lest it hurt too much to continue.
you shake your head, "i-i used the toy and my fingers...earlier..." you remind him.
his grip on your wrist slackens at that and you take the chance to slowly and carefully sink down on him, jaw dropping open at the feeling of being stretched so fully by him after however many days.
you're greedy and needy, not even pausing as you quickly descend and take more and more of him in. it's faster than you usually handle it and he moves quickly to grab your hips and stop you, intent on making you take a second to adjust before taking all of him that you can.
you make a strangled noise akin to a sob in your chest and look at him with angry little tears in your eyes. the sight makes him pause and his cock twitch.
you slap his hands away harshly and continue taking all of him despite his apparent protests. he's taken aback by the little show of aggression.
"shit, love," he growls, brows furrowed, "is that how it is then?"
you nod your head and let your eyes roll back. it wasn't very often that you got to ride him, simon was more of a 'do all the work' type of man but this position definitely allowed you to take more of him than you usually could when he had you folded up into whatever positions he wanted.
once you took him as deep as you could, your hand flew down to your clit and with a few little circles and slow grinds of your hips, you were clamping down around him and cumming with a cute little squeal and a gasp.
he felt you soak him with your cum, his eyes locked onto where he was buried deep inside you. when you pulled up, he could see the creamy ring of cum around the base of him.
his head slammed back against the bed as he gripped your hips, your hands on his flexed forearms for support as you began to fuck yourself on his cock with a vigor he hadn't ever seen from you.
you hadn't ever been this needy before. seeing you fucking yourself completely stupid on his cock, only moans and sobs of his name to be heard besides the underlying squish of your cunt being stretched and stuffed.
"fuck!" he groaned, feeling the way your pussy clutched and pulsed around him as you angled your hips just right to hit that tender little spot that made you gush messily around him.
you once again slap his hands away from your hips. he glares at you, preparing to scold you for being such a brat but then you do something that shocks the words right out of him.
you grab his wrists and pin them beside his head on the pillow, using the grip as leverage to really begin fucking yourself back onto his cock. his jaw falls open, little moans and gasps escaping his throat as he watches you work yourself to another peak.
your tits bounce from the way you fuck yourself back on him and he wishes he could reach up and cup them, pinch and roll your hard nipples just the way you like. but he doesn't want to break this little hold you have on him, pinning him down like you think you're in charge. it's cute, really, the little show you're putting on.
it's clear he's denied you so much this whole time that you've simply snapped and now you're determined to get your fill until you've orgasmed so much that your little brain just melts. and he's more than happy to be there, not even lifting a finger and merely being a nice, hard cock for you to cream all over.
he has to admit, it's alluring to see his sweet little love acting so desperate.
he doesn't know how many orgasms you work out of yourself, but it's enough to have covered his cock and thighs thoroughly in your cum. he doesn't mind. you've always been quite a bit messy when he made you cum. but you've never came this hard and this much before. he's not even sure you're giving yourself a chance to come down from one high before you've worked yourself into another.
he's speechless, content to just lay back and watch the desperate show you've put on for him until your movements finally begin to slow.
you go from bouncing on him and pinning him down to grinding against him and cupping your own tits. your body is covered in a sheen of sweat from the workout and he's sure your thighs are fucking burning by now. you're panting and your eyes are half lidded as you stare down at him.
for the first time in a long time, simon feels...small. you had just fucked yourself better than he ever had using his own cock. the thought of that made him twitch inside you and he sees the corner of your lip twitch up and you smile at him. the heady, frustrated, desperate look in your eyes fades and you look so satisfied. the weight that he hadn't realized had been on your shoulders is gone and you lean down.
he tilts his head up and meets your lips in a kiss. your tits squish against his chest and he finally moves his hands from the position you'd pinned him in earlier and he smooths his palms down the length of your back, making you shudder.
"gonna let me cum now, love?" he asks breathlessly.
when you nod, your whole world flips and you find yourself on your back, simon pins your legs open with a rough grip under your thighs and begins working his hips.
it's clear you're painfully sensitive; your clit is swollen and tender, your whole body twitching when he meanly presses his roughened thumb against it. your hands once again find purchase on your tits and you squeeze and tug at your nipples.
he fucks you at a leisurely pace, listening to the filthy, clicking noises coming from the complete mess that you've made of your cunt. your eyes roll back and he rolls your tender little bud under his thumb until you seize up in one final orgasm that makes you kick your feet out helplessly.
“there it is…” he coaxes, tossing his head back to moan when you tighten like a vice around him, “so good f’me. that’s it, ride it out, little love.”
you've no choice but the ride out this final, painful orgasm on his cock as he fucks you through it to his own end. he spills inside you, pumping his hips a few more times, watching his own cum mix with the mess of your own that oozes and drools out of your gooey little cunt.
you flop against the bed when he pulls out, both of you panting and you trembling from the overstimulation.
he flops down onto his side of the bed with a sigh, eyes finally growing heavy once again as his exhaustion catches up with him alarmingly fast.
usually, he would clean you up and fix the mess you both left behind but he just truly can't bring himself to even consider getting out of bed. so he tugs you against him, listening to you whimper when more cum drools out of you from the way you involuntarily clench from the continued aftershocks of your numerous orgasms.
he hums and holds you close, dragging the blanket from the foot of the bed over both of you, kissing your forehead before tucking your head against his chest.
he would deal with the aftermath of the night tomorrow, when you both have clear heads. though, he's sure you're going to be sore. he can't wait to see it, he muses.
property of rowarn; do not modify, repost, or translate.
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a-hazbin-reader · 3 months
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OMG CAN YOU DO A ALASTOR X MOTHER READER WHERE THEY WAS TRYING TO HAVE ALONE TIME YK MOMMY N DADDY TIME BUT THE TWINS CAME AND RUIN PUSHING ALASTOR AWAY SO HE WON'T TOUCH THEIR MOMMY
👀
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Suggestive?, Alastor VS His babies, Alastor and his kids being possessive
Description: 👆⬆️
When it first happens, Alastor thinks it's adorable and can't help laughing at his silly children
He had come back from an overlord meeting and was eager to kiss you, pulling you in close
"How was the meeting, darling?"
His lips are almost touching yours, practically teasing both of you by denying that final touch
"Uneventful as always, my dear~"
Just when he goes to close the distance, you're both suddenly frozen in place, feeling little hands pushing you apart
You both look down to see your twins trying to shove Alastor away from you with all their little might
Their little faces scrunched up in outrage and concern as they try to break their father's iron grip on you
"Oh my~! It seems someone doesn't like it when I take their mother's attention~"
He's laughing and picking up the twins just to squish them between you and him, kissing their squishy cheeks
"BA!"
The second time it happens, Alastor is shocked, not realizing how serious his babies were about this
They're sitting in their highchairs, being fed by you when he comes up to kiss your cheek
His arm wraps around you and he rubs his cheek on you, not paying attention to the warning growls from his spawn
Or the way their ears fold back and they start bleating at him to get off their mother
He goes to kiss you, when suddenly, there's a wet slap of food hitting his cheek
You have to cover your mouth to keep from laughing, your twins already grabbing another handful of food
"Now now~ It's important to share with your pap-OH! That's not very polite..!"
It seems Alastor has finally met his match, running out of the room with his tail between his legs
The third time is when Alastor starts getting concerned, the two of you alone in bed
He just wanted some time alone with you after you two had put the twins down for the night
And you could hardly deny him with his lips kissing along your neck and strong arms pulling you against him
Eventually, his lips find yours, and the kiss turns heated with wandering hands starting to slide under each other's clothes-
When there's a cry from the baby monitor and you both are taken out of the mood, giving each other sheepish looks
"Not to worry, darling~ Watch as your capable husband puts them back to sleep~"
Alastor picks up the monitor and speaks into it softly, his voice usually enough to make the babies fall back asleep
Instead, there's the sharp sound of radio interference and an indignant shriek on the other side, making your husband's ears fold back
"I think I should probably be the one to put them back to bed..."
You give your husband a small pat on the head before kissing him, heading into the nursery for the night
The bed has never felt more lonely
Alastor never thought his own children would turn on him, betrayal truly is a devastating thing
SOMEHOW his children have gotten the idea in their heads that their mother isn't something to SHARE
He has no idea how they learned that
It looks like he'll have to do something he had hoped he would NEVER have to do
Talk about sharing his wife
With his children
But still
So he takes the children for the day, letting you have a day to yourself and kicking you out of the hotel
His twins are obviously a little miffed at him for sending you away, it wasn't a decision that Alastor made lightly
But without the object of their little obsession, then they're back to being his loving little babies
They're snuggling into him when he decides to try and explain why the three of them need to share you
"Now, your mother and I...we need time not only for ourselves but also for each other."
At first, the twins eye him with a dubious expression on their faces, little hands curling into angry fists
"And the three of us, we all love her very much, don't we?"
Then they start to relax and lean on him again, as if accepting their father's words
Things feel calmer when you come back home later that night, your husband and babies all practically glomping on you
Whatever rivalry they had going on before seems to have ended, finally being able to have some affection from your husband without being interrupted
"So...it looks like we're alone~"
"It would seem so, darling~"
He's chuckling and pulling you close, reaching back to lock the door behind him-
"Um? Alastor? There's a bunch of angry guys outside and..."
At least not by your own children
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SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG
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mitsies · 10 months
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12 minutes. that's how long it's been since you texted itoshi sae back. 12 whole minutes.
he frowns at his phone, glaring daggers at the poor innocent screen that's really done nothing wrong. he hopes you can feel his stare through the device. 12 minutes is a long, long time; what could you possibly be doing that could be more important than texting your boyfriend back?
he stares at the screen as time ticks on. 12 minutes becomes 12 minutes and 30 seconds. 40. 50. 55. 59. 13 minutes. now, that is entirely too long. but he can’t double text because he’s not that desperate, he thinks. (he is. but his ego is fragile.) so he opts to state some more. and then a little more after that.
at the 13 minute and 45 second mark, his hand hovers tentatively over the call button as he debates his next moves; would calling you make him look a fool? or would it perhaps save you from whatever kidnapper was trying to nab you, or alien trying to abduct you? because in sae’s book, those were the only viable reasons as to why you may not message him back right away.
he gives in and calls you. he counts every single ring until you finally, finally pick up: “sae? hello?”
a wave of tension melts off his bones, anxiety he hadn’t even realised was building. relief tastes good and minty on his tongue as he relishes the sound of your voice. how honey-sweet is always sounded whenever you said his name. he doesn’t even realise he’s verbally ghosted you until you ask, “is anyone even there?”
“yeah. i’m here.”
he doesn’t need to be there to see the expression on your face— you look annoyed, confused, miffed. so pretty, too, always pretty. he’s not whipped though. not whipped, not desperate. just a regular guy worried about his girlfriend. (he’s not that pathetic— right?)
“why are you calling me? what’s up?”
he feels petulant and whiny like a child when he speaks as levelly as he can, “you didn’t answer my text.”
he’s not desperate. and he’s not whipped. but you laugh over the phone, and sae feels himself falling, positively swooning like the sappiest little bitch in town.
“babe, my last text to you was ‘bye’. i had to drive.”
oh. he supposes that you’re right. embarrassment mixes with indignation mixed with unbridled affection as he grasps for straws, “i know. i just wanted to make sure you got there okay.”
he hears you snort a laugh on the other end of the phone and he’s melting again despite his unchanged appearance. his free hand thrums against the table he’s seated at as he hangs on your every word, movement, sound, action.
“sure. sure you did. and now that you know i’m okay, it’s cool if i hang up, right?”
he responds a little too quickly. “no. stay on the line.”
“why should i?”
he narrows his eyes. “don’t be difficult.”
“okay. i’ll leave, then—“
“wait.”
a pause. he speaks again: “i just want to talk to you. stay with me.”
you almost want to push more, to tease a bit. to make him say please. but your stomach is already churning like crazy and you’ve got a swath of butterflies in your chest and god, do you love him. so you just say, “okay.”
you hear the slightest smile in his voice when he replies. “thank you.”
itoshi sae is usually not desperate. he’s not whipped, he doesn’t say please, he doesn’t say thanks. but for you? he thinks he can change the rules, just a little, if that’s what it means to have you.
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sixosix · 7 months
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(OFFICIALLY) SWEPT OFF YOUR FEET
i. summary in which everyone knew you were in a relationship, except for you.
ii. warnings wc 1.5k, profanity, reader will be angry: couple fight scene but not really, alhaitham is kinda dumb here, but he loves you and you love him and that's all that matters, ending is kinda lame... ft. tighnari and cyno
iii. written for my big sibling @earthtooz hope u like this one earf ily
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“Hey, Alhaitham?”
He hums noncommittally.
You nestle further in his arm that’s draped lazily over your shoulder, his other hand and his attention occupied by a book. He doesn’t respond again, but he does glance at you for a moment while you shift, adjusting his arm more comfortably.
“Tighnari sent me a letter the other day.”
“Hm.”
“And it was real sweet, you know. He sent over fruits and told me you have your share in my package. He didn’t want to send them to you because he said the fruits would have expired by the time you’d read the letter.” Alhaitham doesn’t deny it. “But I read something extremely strange in the letter that had me dropping the fruits out of pure shock.”
Alhaitham still doesn’t reply. But you know him well enough to know that he’s no longer reading—just keeping appearances.
“Did you read it?”
“...No.”
Obviously. “Ah, well. Let me quote it, as I feel the need to share it with you as well.” You sit up straight and push Alhaitham’s book away from his line of view. “He said, ‘For the insufferable, lovely couple. It’s been a while since you two have visited. How are you and Alhaitham doing? Write back soon.’ And then he taped a flower.”
Alhaitham’s mouth twitches into a half-smile. “You look miffed.”
You scowl. “Alhaitham, of course I’m miffed! Since when were we a lovely couple? And why are you not surprised? Were you the one to prank them?”
“No one’s trying to fool anyone,” he says smoothly, picking up his book once again. As if he just hasn’t caused your crisis. “Tighnari is simply being a good friend and looking for something to nag us about.”
“Alhaitham, since when were we a couple?” you demanded again, shaking his arm. “Did I miss something? Did I wake up one day and forget about being in a relationship with you?”
“Haven’t we always been in one?”
“No, we have not?”
Alhaitham casts you a glance. “You sound unsure.”
“Because you seem so sure of yourself for no reason,” you fume, itching with the urge to hurl the book at his face. “I didn’t even know you were even into me like that!”
“I let you kiss me on the cheek every night before you leave my house. Sometimes, you don’t even leave my house, so we sleep on the same bed.” As if that explains anything. And did he fling out these reasons to Tighnari, too?
“Well, I do it because I’ve been doing it since we were, like, six. And you never told me to stop. Plus, it’s just a cheek kiss—that’s way different from an actual kiss actual couples do,” you say, getting increasingly infuriated with each word that’s coming out your mouth. Why do you have to explain how relationships work to Alhaitham? Surely he’s read a guide about love in the millions of books he’s touched?
“I don’t see why you wouldn’t start kissing me the way couples do, then.”
Oh, this bitch. “So you knew that I liked you?” Your voice wavers, and you feel a little pathetic. “And that’s what prompted you to start spreading lies to everyone? Is this some joke to you?”
Immediately, his expression is swept off of amusement. “Y/N,” he says as you feel your lips tremble. “Y/N, that’s not—”
“Shut up,” you say. “How long has this been going on? Since when have I been outside of the biggest inside joke, huh?”
“It’s not like that. I thought—”
“Oh, you thought, didn’t you? Yet you didn’t think I don’t want my feelings to be played like—like—” You can’t even bring yourself to say this. You know that Alhaitham can be mean when he wants to be, but making a joke out of the feelings you’ve desperately hidden for years?
“I need to leave.” You’re not sure why you feel the need to announce it. Was it because you rarely even leave his place? Each step feels wrong. You don’t want to be mad at Alhaitham to this extent but you’re hurt.
You ignore Alhaitham’s hurried, “Where are you going?” because you don’t have an answer to that. Wherever you go, you always end up in Alhaitham’s arms.
You forcefully push the door open and march off, head spinning, humiliated. You hear Alhaitham’s steps fall into place after yours. It’s pissing you off even more that Alhaitham doesn’t even look the slightest bit frazzled, as if you impulsively sprinting off is just a walk in the block for him.
Then you spot Cyno in the middle of a street. He catches your wrist before you can avoid him.
He blinks, mildly surprised to see it’s just you and not some food stall thief. “Y/N.” Cyno tilts his head slightly to acknowledge the man a few feet away from you. “Alhaitham. Is something the matter?”
“It’s nothing!” You don’t question why or how Cyno is here, shoving him aside—which proved to be a little difficult given how he’s pretty strong for such a tiny man.
“You’re crying,” Cyno points out as you try to push him away as if you aren’t aware of how your face feels uncomfortably hot and how tears are sliding off your cheeks.
“It’s a marital dispute,” Alhaitham says, directly behind you.
His voice makes you scowl. So infuriatingly sexy, and you’re mad at it. “We’re not married!”
Cyno nods, serious. “Yes, I only heard about the engagement.” At your stunned silence and Alhaitham’s reluctant stillness, Cyno clears his throat and steps aside. “I suppose I’ll leave you two to it. I don’t know how relationships work.”
You groan as Cyno walks off, “Great, so even Cyno thinks we’re a couple. Who’s next, Lesser Lord Kusanali?”
Alhaitham looks away. “Well—”
“Oh, fuck off.”
Your wrist seems keen on being dragged around by men today, it seems. Alhaitham firmly tugs at your arm, pulling you close to his chest, his gaze intensely searching yours. But all he would be able to see is your scowl. And all you can see is his handsome face.
“Y/N,” Alhaitham says, your name in his voice a sweet murmur. “I’m sorry I upset you. I didn’t think you would react that way.”
“What, you think I’d just roll with it?” you spit with dripping bitterness.
“Yes.” You're taken aback as you gaze at him and find his expression to be entirely genuine and open. “We fell into a friendship so easily. I fell in love with you the same way: naturally. I thought…” And then his usually blank face twists into something unpleasant. “Forgive me.”
“Alhaitham, you idiot. You bastard. Do you have any idea how relationships work?”
“No. All I know is how to be with you.” He wipes a tear off your cheek. “But it appears I’m not even doing that right.”
“Fuck you.” You bat his hand away. His face falls. “You don’t get to act all sweet to me like that. I spent years thinking you would never see me that way, and you get to decide one morning that we’re in a relationship, just like that?”
“You’ve liked me for years?” Alhaitham’s eyes are a bit wide, totally missing the point.
“Alhaitham.”
“I ask you out every dinner. And you say yes each time.”
“I didn’t think you meant it like that!”
“I did mean it like that,” Alhaitham says, and again with that ‘so sure of myself’ personality. You hate it. You love it. “And I meant everything I’ve ever said to you like that. I didn’t tell anyone anything; they just assumed on their own, and only then did I realize how it did seem that way. It was my selfishness that didn’t try to deny their assumptions.”
Alhaitham’s usually so difficult to speak to, especially when it comes to expressing his true emotions. You often find yourself filling the silence, and he seems content with it. However, he appears desperate at this moment, as though you’re planning on leaving if he doesn’t give you a reason to stay.
You are too weak. “So you like me.”
“I do.”
“…And you want to… be in a relationship with me.” Alhaitham nods. You're beginning to feel flustered as the realization sets in that the man you've always dreamt of is holding you intimately in the middle of nowhere, and also confessing that he feels the same way. “Ask me out properly, then.”
Alhaitham looks at you incredulously. Did he think it was over?
“Do it, Alhaitham. Woo me. Win me over. Sweep me off my feet.”
“...Y/N,” he hesitates, his face tinted pink, vaguely embarrassed. “Go out with me. In that way.”
It sounds demanding and clumsy, but it’s perfectly Alhaitham, so your heart beats out of your chest and your face splits into a grin all the same.
You wrap your arms around his neck. “If you’re gonna be my boyfriend, you’re going to do it right, you hear me? You won’t just let me do anything. And you will start—officially—tomorrow by telling everyone that we are not engaged nor married.”
Alhaitham dips his head down, your chin trapped by his fingers. “We will be, eventually, though. And I can just start now. Officially.”
Your confusion doesn’t last for even a second when his lips meet yours in a kiss. You’ve been wooed. Won over. Swept off your feet.
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earth i hope u know it took me months to find a good plot for your man this was a feat in itself. also i copy pasted your tags love u.
also if u caught the title while it was called swept over your feet shut up…. Please. this didnt have a title originally 🙁
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whoistartaglia · 4 months
Text
delirious
does a confession count when it comes from someone delirious with fever?
alhaitham x reader
you’re clearly sick with fever, you know it, alhaitham knows it, and even your professor to whom you’ve never said a single word knows it. so why are you, wearing a black mask, coughing up a lung, and a second away from sleep, in lecture?
alhaitham has his own hypotheses to that particular question, but the fact remains is that there’s still about ten more minutes of lecture and he doesn’t know if you’re going to make it. not because of death—at least, he certainly hopes not—but because he meant it when he said you’re a whisp away from dreamland. one blink might send you head first into a fever dream, and you honestly think you might be in one when alhaitham silently packs his bag and silently moves through the lecture hall to sit next to you.
“what are you doing?” you whisper.
“taking you home.”
you cough before responding, and alhaitham cringes at the sound.
“home?”
“back to the dorm,” he clarifies.
you and alhaitham both live in the same dorm, though you only realized it when he came knocking on your door, with only the message of “you’re being too loud, i’m trying to study, please quiet down” when you opened it. your roommate was understandably annoyed by his obtrusiveness, and you were too, to an extent. until you told your roommate the very next day you thought he was cute and recognized him from lecture.
a lost cause, your roommate called you.
a lost cause was right.
“why?” you ask again through another cough.
alhaitham shrugs. “consider it me doing something nice.”
“but you’re not nice?”
alhaitham raises an eyebrow. your face is pale and laced with confusion, and if the statement didn’t come out as a sincere question, alhaitham would be much more offended. presently, he’s a little miffed—of course he’s nice, just when he wants to be, which may or may not be less than the average person—and has just realized something very interesting.
you don’t have much of a filter when sick with fever.
you’re also not very… present. he had to nudge you when the lecture ended and the professor started packing up. he had to subsequently coax you to pack up, because you told him you were so tired you could fall asleep right there and then.
“you can’t do that.”
“but why?”
“it’s too warm in here and lecture chairs are uncomfortable, and another class is coming in.”
“i don’t care,” you told him, a pout gracing your features.
“well, i do,” alhaitham says, standing. he looks down at you. “now, are you going to let me walk you back or are you doing to stay?”
“stay.”
so you have a streak of stubbornness when you’re sick, too. alhaitham rolls his eyes and starts packing your stuff himself, tossing in your laptop (which hasn’t been touched the entire lecture) and notebook (which also has remained unopened) and even takes your phone, plopping it in before zippering the bag shut, tossing it over his shoulder, and heading towards the exit.
it takes you a second in your hazed state to realize what happened before you pull yourself up and out of your seat and into the hallway. alhaitham’s nowhere to be found and you’re about to unleash a string of curses on his good name before you hear footsteps behind you.
“ready to go?”
you glare at him. “isn’t it a crime to mess with someone who’s sick?”
“a crime? no. morally wrong? maybe.” alhaitham shrugs, a slight smile tugging on his lips. “but that’s something for the philosophers to decide.”
you huff as you walk along side him, out of the lecture hall and onto the main campus. it’s a cold winter afternoon and you pull your sweatshirt around you tighter. maybe you wouldn’t have gotten sick if you didn’t insist on not wearing a winter coat when the temperature is near freezing. but then again, if you hadn’t gotten sick, then this serendipitous exchange might not have occurred.
as if reading your thoughts, alhaitham asks, “did your forget your jacket?”
“i didn’t wear one.”
“why not?”
“i am immune to the cold.”
“i assume that’s why your sick.”
“i’m not sick,” you tell him. a following series of coughs proves you wrong and has alhaitham raising his eyebrows. “okay, maybe i’m a little sick.”
“maybe just a little,” alhaitham agrees with you.
you spend the remainder of the short walk in silence, and it’s only when alhaitham leaves your side to open the door to your dorm that you realize you’re back. you think that, if this were any other time, you’d be thrilled and blushing that your crush walked you back to your dorm. he even insisted upon it. a part of you is, but it’s unfortunate you can’t outwardly show it—that is, you don’t really have the energy to.
you also can’t believe this is actually happening and real. your mind is currently afloat in a realm of feverish haze, a sign that you need a nap, but before you can unlock your dorm door, alhaitham pauses ourside of it.
he clears his throat and looks down at you staring up at him, like he’s a comet in the sky. “why did you come to lecture today? you’re clearly not feeling well.”
you stare at him through a sick-filled haze, like you might currently be lost in a fever dream you can’t quite wake up from. like you don’t know if it’s him asking or a fragment of your feverish imagination playing a trick on you.
“because i wanted to see you.”
the words, said so innocently, echo in alhaitham’s ears. you look as if you’ve either forgotten what you just said or unsure if you said anything at all. in the back of his mind, alhaitham wonders if him prying you for your feelings on him would also be a moral debate for the philosophers, but decides to press a little harder, dig a little deeper.
“why did you want to see me?”
“because…” you hesitate, tilt your head, consider the question. “because i like you?”
like the statement from earlier, it comes out as a question. as if it’s something obvious that you’re having a hard time believing alhaitham doesn’t know. as if it’s a simple truth, like the sky is blue, so simple it shouldn’t need explanation.
if you weren’t so sick right now, you might have blushed and looked down at your shoes before blinking up at him through your eyelashes and saying something coy. but like alhaitham realized earlier, you have little to no filter right now.
“i’m going to take a nap,” you tell him, before unlocking your door, waving goodbye, and shutting it firmly in his face.
alhaitham blinks, looks around for a second, then focused on your closed dorm door. he thought you might have liked him—especially when you started glancing at him more during lecture, and even asked to be his partner for a homework assignment. but could he really trust a confession from you in your addled state?
alhaitham shrugs and turns away from the door and walks down the hallway to his own room. when he enters, his roommate looks at him inquisitively, because alhaitham’s blushing, and alhaitham never blushes like this, but he brushes him off. alhaitham decides he’ll ask you again for confirmation when you’ve recovered, just to make sure.
but now he’s starting to feel sick, and wonders if he also might have a fever—from whatever sickness you have or a newfound lovesickness, he can only hypothesize. (it’s probably the latter.)
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ellecdc · 2 months
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I have been summoned by the Poly!Wolfstar notification!!!!
I’m always a goner for brother’s best friend trope and this time it’s best friends so literally double the fun ☺️ This is just so soft and adorable pls you’re spoiling us, queen!
Part 2 where they tell Jamie and he actually already knew? Cause the joke is always James can be oblivious most of the time, but they don’t know it doesn’t apply to his sister so he already knew, most likely even before she knew herself cause he’s a sweet brother like that.
*sigh* I want a big brother
Love you queen! 💕
hahaha awe you're so right babes. it's really funny because I have this request and then the exact opposite version of this request - so it will be fun to write the other one too! it'll take me a lot longer though, angst always does.
part one here - but can be read as a stand alone
poly!wolfstar x potter!reader - you & the boys tell James
“You’re going to wear a hole in the rug there, dolly.” Sirius drawled in faux nonchalance as the two of you waited in the boys’ dorm room for Remus to return with James.
You were going to do it. Today. You were going to tell your brother you were dating his two best friends.
No big deal, right?
Except it was a big deal and you were absolutely losing your bloody mind.
And then your boyfriend had the audacity to be sitting on his bed, leaning against the headboard, casually telling you to relax like he wasn’t also shaking in his boots Doc Marten’s. 
Remus had volunteered to be the one to retrieve James for the lot of you. Mostly because you would have likely broken down in a mental state if it had been you, and Sirius likely would have blurted it out on his way up the stairs.
The door clicked and you could hear the quiet mumbling of your boyfriend and the much louder mumbling of your brother as the two entered the room. Based on the smiles on their faces, particularly James’ who eyes crinkled in delight, they were talking about something funny.
“Oh! Hey bug.” James called to you, seeming surprised you were here but not perturbed. “Hey Pads; Moony said you guys wanted to talk?”
Remus stayed standing near the door and you paused in your nervous pacing whilst Sirius scooted to the end of his bed, elbows on his knees and feet resting on his school trunk.
James didn’t look at all disturbed or uncomfortable. In fact, he looked completely at ease, here in the room with three of his favourite people in the whole world. Remus, the person who he goes to when he needs to feel grounded. Sirius, his best friend and partner in crime. And you, his twin sister and other half.
What were you doing here?
Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe you shouldn’t tell him. This could ruin him; this had the potential to ruin three of James’ most precious relationships. How could you have been so selfish? He didn’t need to know, the least the three of you could do is keep this to yourself. Abort, abort, abort.
“So?” James asked, looking around at everyone with a raised eyebrow. “Are you finally going to tell me the three of you are dating?”
You were sure your heart stopped. Remus blew out an exasperated laugh and Sirius choked on air. 
“You knew!?” Sirius screeched.
James smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah?”
“How?” You whispered.
James’ face softened significantly when he took in your face that was drained of all colour. “Well, Pads here is about as subtle as an erumpent. Moony has been mooning over you since like third year. And I’d have to be blind – do not joke about my eyesight – not to notice the way you look at them.” He offered simply.
“So, you’ve known all this time and just let us tiptoe around?” Sirius asked, sounding a little miffed – at his friend for allowing him to make a fool of himself, or at his apparent lack of discrepancy, you weren’t sure.
“I figured you guys would tell me when you were ready.” James said simply again.
“Are you mad?” Remus asked quietly, pointedly looking at you ask he asked. He knew this was your biggest fear, the potential fallout. You weren’t sure what you’d do if James refused to accept your relationship with Remus and Sirius. You couldn’t bear the thought of breaking up their friend group; three people would lose if that was the case, but it would only hurt you if you were the one to step away. 
“No.” James said as he moved his head back and forth slightly. “I guess I was hurt you didn't tell me, but I could also understand why you didn’t. But no, I’m not mad.”
You blew out a breath at that, but it came out incredibly shaky. Unfortunately for you, no one in the room missed it.
“Awe bug. I’m sorry.” James said as he stood and offered his open arms to you. You took him up on his offer and accepted his hug, leaning your head onto his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Jamie.”
“Don’t be, yeah? I’m happy for you, really.” He assured, rubbing roughly on your back. 
“Yeah?” You asked as you pulled back to look at him. You couldn’t see any contradictions on his face, only love.
“’Course. You’re the best, and I want the best for you.” He shook your shoulders a little, smiling like ‘did you seriously think otherwise?’
“Are they good to you?” He whispered, and though you knew your werewolf boyfriend and your canine animagus boyfriend could both likely hear the conversation, they allowed this moment to be yours and James’ alone.
“So good, Jamie. Promise.” You said, feeling tears prick at your eyes. 
“You’ll tell me if they’re not?”
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, but James wouldn’t let you pull away as you wont to do. “I wouldn’t involve you in it, James. They were your friends first; I’m not going to come between you.”
James’ brows furrowed a little as he seemed to ponder your words. “Perhaps...but you were my sister first. If anything, they’d be coming between us.”
You opted to smile at your brother and pinch his side like you knew he hated. “Never. That’s impossible.”
At that he finally let you go, returning your smile ten-fold. “That’s what I’ve been trying to say! So? Are we good?” He asked, turning to the rest of the room.
Remus had a proud and slightly emotional smile on his face while Sirius just stared between the two of you, eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed. 
“I’m sorry. What just happened?” He finally spat.
Remus groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. “Sirius, please. This went about as well as we could have hoped.”
James’ head popped up at that. “Oh! Sorry, did I make that too easy on you all?”
Sirius let out a scoff that sounded like “uhm, duh?”
“I could make it harder on you?” James offered.
“Please do.” Sirius said eagerly, causing you and Remus to groan in sync. 
James offered a quick ‘okay’ and cleared his throat, allowing silence to settle throughout the room as he picked up a stray book off his school trunk. 
Suddenly, he threw the book onto the ground, creating a booming thump. “MY SISTER!? ARE YOU KIDDING? YOU’RE DATING MY SISTER!?”
“JAMES PLEASE, JUST HEAR US OUT!” Sirius shouted back just as passionately. 
James scoffed in derision. “HEAR YOU OUT? HEAR YOU OUT. I THINK I’VE HEARD ENOUGH!”
“YOU CAN’T KEEP US APART!” 
“I CAN AND I WILL. HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!? I THOUGHT THIS FRIENDSHIP MEANT SOMETHING TO YOU.”
“IT MEANS EVERYTHING TO ME!” Sirius called back, dropping to his knees on the floor in front of James. 
You shared a look with Remus as the theatrics continued, knowing this could go on for hours.
“Should we leave them to their drama?” Remus asked you.
“Please.” You nearly begged, taking his hand and exiting the dorm, catching one last sentence before the door clicked shut behind you.
“I’M IN LOVE WITH HER, JAMES!”
“I DON’T CA- wait are you really? That's so cute!”
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lafleshlumpeater · 4 months
Note
Could you please do a Luke x sunshine reader where Luke asks the reader on a date, and they agreed. Then, when he comes to pick them up at her cabin, their siblings interrogate him and threaten him a little if he hurts their sibling.
I hope you’re okay with child of aphrodite reader<3
Warnings: fem!reader, teasing, very slightly suggestive comment- lmk if there’s anything else<3
luke castellan masterlist
Luke didn’t know whether to be nervous or slightly flattered that he was receiving looks from the window which were impossible to ignore.
Dressed in an unbuttoned blue flannel which he’d borrowed from one of his siblings and a plain white t- shirt underneath, he wonders whether he should have opted for something more formal instead when he sees slightly mocking smirks and giggles from your fashion expert siblings.
Or maybe it was too formal.
He was unsure as to which way round he had it wrong.
And then there were the flowers. What would be more romantic, fancy, cellophane- wrapped roses or something simpler with just a satin bow? After consulting Katie Gardner, his brother’s girlfriend, about his dilemma she had snipped off some lush, crimson roses for him so the stems were short and wrapped around with a thin piece of white ribbon. Only now he realised how stupid he probably looked, a small gift so classy and somewhat luxurious and in an attire so casual.
It wasn’t an everyday occurrence for Luke Castellan to feel hot all over and want the ground to swallow him whole, but there were few and rare occurrences. Like the first time he had been at camp he had been wandering aimlessly to find where everyone was getting their food from (why had no- one thought to tell him that all he had to do was think about the food he wanted?), or when he had somehow managed to singe some of his hair off that one time he was in the Hephaestus cabin since they were in the same team as him for capture the flag (he had told them the flamethrowers were too much for their chariot) and, well, like now.
Just as he was weighing up the advantages and disadvantages of knocking on the cabin and asking for you (he’d be able to escape the taunting laughter sooner, but the overpowering smell of all the cosmetics and perfumes gave him a headache) the door finally swung open and oh if his heart wasn’t beating a thousand miles an hour before it definitely was now.
You were dressed in a sundress of pure white, that was snatched in places and hung loose in others perfectly. Your skin was smooth and glassy, reflecting the glow of the white fabric. Lips curled upwards into an easygoing smile, painted a pretty bubblegum pink colour Luke often associated with your personality. Two tendrils of hair carelessly free from the confines of the simple yet elegant style of your hair framing your face perfectly- the very embodiment of Aphrodite’s kin.
It was only when you giggle a small “Hi,” that Luke realises his jaw is slack, lips slightly parted. He clears his throat, standing up straighter and hand running through his hair.
“Hey,” he stammers. “You look…”
“Oi, loverboy!” His flustered compliment is cut- off with a shout from the open cabin window. His head whips towards the sound, slightly miffed that the moment was interrupted.
Mitchell. One of your brothers.
“Treat her well, alright?”, the smug boy yells, self- satisfaction written all over his face. “And no touchy- touchy business.”
Luke’s half- tempted to grab your hand and run away from the teasing. “Uh, you-”
“Yeah, what he said! Treat her well!” Lacy’s head pops out next to her brother’s, nails half- painted where they grip the window frame. “And be back before eight, okay? We have a girls’ night planned! No forgetting, or I swear I will interrupt whatever frisky business-”
“Okay, okay!” You interrupt, vivacious laughter escaping your throat. “That’s enough, I think we get the message.” You slip your delicate hand into his, looking up at him through long eyelashes. “Right?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Luke mutters with an abashed smile, relieved to be saved from the incessant torture and just wanting to get to the destination of your date as soon as possible. Just as shyly, he holds the flowers out to you, awaiting your approval.
You take them. “For me? They’re so lovely.” You inhale them, eyes fluttering closed at the fragrance. “Thanks, so much!” You reach up on tiptoes, even on white heels, and quickly kiss his cheek.
As the two of you walk away, hand in hand, Luke curses at the way his cheeks flush at the titters and hollers of your siblings under his breath.
Not proofread- pls lmk if there's any mistake/it doesn’t make sense
taglist: @quickslvxrr @bibliophile-dendrophile
READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
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ddarker-dreams · 3 months
Note
Could you do the current husband trio with cuteness aggression please? <3333
a request after my own heart ...
chrollo gets it out of his system by teasing you. his teasing comes in multiple flavors, some more subtle than others. for an immoral thief, his self-control is impressive. he likes to see where riling you up will go. especially if you reciprocate in kind. the verbal cat-and-mouse excites him as much as a heist. after denying himself long enough, he’ll pull you into his lap, chuckling as he says ‘don’t get so cross, darling,’ into your neck. good luck freeing yourself from his grasp. once he has you, you won’t be going anywhere until he feels generous enough to share. his visage remains relaxed, but his eyes betray the thrill you give him; they’re shining, with your reflection at the center.
satoru wouldn’t take his hands off you if his life depended on it. nope, you and everyone in the immediate vicinity get to witness how smitten he is. he’s mean though — he can’t just scoop you up and twirl you around. no, he has to creep up on you for the bonus of hearing you squeak. he’s grinning like a madman as you chastise him, peppering your face with kisses, each one accompanied by an exaggerated ‘muah.’ he gives the hand you’re halfheartedly pushing him away with the same treatment. it’s almost enough for him to burst at the seams when he puts you down (this step may require some begging on your part). especially because you’re fighting off a smile of your own so as not to encourage his mischievous behavior. satoru rectifies this by squishing your cheeks into a smile. if there’s anything he excels at, it’s getting what he wants.
scaramouche places heavy emphasis on ‘aggression.’ his sharp tongue directs no shortage of insults your way, although they lack their usual barbed nature. you get the sense that he struggles to know how else to interact with you. it’s humiliating! the sound of your name alone has him perking up like some mutt. he loathes what you’ve reduced him to. scara inadvertently perpetuates the cycle he claims he wants to be free from. he acts condescending, then finds your frustration so cute, that his brain temporarily short-circuits. the resulting embarrassment adds to his cruelty as a flimsy smokescreen. he’s mortified that your miffed expression made him so tempted to squeeze you. how could his pride ever recover from such a blow? then you’d know how fond of you he is, a most egregious notion.
blade denies himself until he can't. the phenomenon perplexes the poor man. he'd sooner endure every physical agony in the universe than harm a hair on your head, so why can’t he suppress these urges? and oh, when you stand on your tiptoes to kiss him, he almost goes feral. his hands twitch with the desire to just… hold you. right against his chest, tight enough that his ribs might break. it’d be so easy and he’s running out of excuses not to do it. he knows he’s intimidating; he doesn’t want to accidentally frighten you off. he really would be a dead man walking without you to breathe life into him. once you encourage him that he can take what he wants from you, then, well, you have an intergalactic criminal who is impossible to pry off.
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softshuji · 2 years
Note
Hey I did keep that secret didn't I?
-Hanma
😒😒😒I'm still a little miffed at you but I'm letting it go, I hate holding grudges, it upsets me.
Yes you did keep the secret so I guess I should say thank you, though if you pull a stunt like that again I will bite you very hard.
I don't quite understand though, aren't you loyal to Toman? Why did you not do anything? You work for them don't you?
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mosaickiwi · 7 months
Text
Hide and Seek
950ish word Ren(dacted) drabble off a spicy hide and seek prompt from da discord except I didn’t do the NSFW ending because I’m cringe, my bad. GN reader.
14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI
Prompt: Playing “Hide and Seek" with Ren in his spacious apartment, except no room is off limits, and he has to wear a Ghostface mask while seeking you out. And if Ren manages to find you, he gets to fuck you. I'M SORRY
~
Ren had given you fourteen minutes to hide. Fourteen much needed minutes to take stock of his pitch black apartment while he waited outside. 
You'd been overly thorough, going room to room, crossing off some spots and keeping note of others, both silly and serious—you were momentarily tempted to hang ass-out of the washing machine for a cheap laugh. At the moment, hiding in the shrine-turned-storage room was your top choice. It was piled high enough with stuff that you were sure you'd sneak by him to some other hiding spot if he tried to corner you. But just in case, you made your way into his bedroom to find another option or two.
You hurried across the room to open his closet door and turn on its light. The rows of hanging and neatly folded black clothes on either side of the spacious walk-in didn't give you much to work with; even if you crouched down, he'd find you in an instant. Maybe you would hide in the storage room.
As you flipped the light switch and turned around to do just that, the front door loudly slammed shut. Your heart sank. You were out of time. There was no way you'd make it to your hiding place now. Halfway panicked, you fell to your knees and slid as quickly and quietly as possible under the bed. An obvious cliche—but it was already too risky to leave the room. You thanked your lucky stars you’d closed all the doors on your way here. It’d at least buy some time.
With bated breath, you waited in the dark, heart practically beating in your ears. The noisy sounds of them opening and closing doors echoed through the apartment. You could clearly hear his footsteps as well. He wasn’t normally anywhere close to loud, so he was definitely making all that commotion for your benefit. You weren’t sure whether to appreciate it or not, thanks to your steadily growing fear mixed with anticipation.
The noises got closer much faster than you expected them to. You only pressed yourself tighter against the floor. It was impossible to see much in the dark, but not even a brief flicker of light showed through the gap at the bottom of the bedroom door. He wasn’t bothering to turn the lights on. You were a bit miffed that he knew the layout of his apartment this well.
A few more loud footsteps, and you knew he was just outside the room. The doorknob faintly clicked as he turned it. The door opened, but thankfully you didn’t hear it shut. You could feel his footsteps, heavier than usual, thumping against the floor. Barely visible, the toes of his boots came into view right in front of you.
“I know you’re in here, Angel,” sang his voice from above you, the taunting muffled by the mask. The bed slightly dipped from his weight as he began to kneel down. Your heart only beat faster against your rib cage as you tried to stay calm. Did they really find you that quickly? You silently cursed yourself for being so picky.
All of a sudden he seemed to change his mind. The bed shifted and he moved back into complete darkness, out of your limited field of view. You squinted, trying your best to keep track of him. But it didn’t do any good. His footsteps reverberated once again as he walked around the room. There was a faint creaking noise from what must’ve been the closet door, then the footsteps got the tiniest bit quieter and quieter until they stopped once more.
You had to take the chance while he was occupied searching the closet. Otherwise, they’d just come back to look under the bed. With your heart in your hands, you trembled as you inched out on the side furthest from the closet, getting ready to bolt. If you were lucky, you’d make it to the storage room. One deep breath, and you started to run like your life depended on it.
Except you didn’t get far at all. You reached blindly in the direction of the door as an arm wrapped firmly around your waist, then a hand clasped over your mouth to mute the absolutely terrified shriek you let out.
“Y’really thought I’d gone in the closet, huh?” they laughed from behind while you struggled for a moment. “Of course you’d try to run.” 
The rather violent thrumming of your pulse seemed to settle in his embrace. He moved his hand away from your mouth once you stopped flailing, and you heard fabric and rubber rustling as he took off the mask. You forced yourself to speak—in spite of the adrenaline still coursing through you, “I thought… I thought a chase would be more fun.”
His arm still around you skimmed low on your stomach before his other hand came to toy with the hem of your shirt, making you tense in excitement. “It would be fun, but we’re not in a movie. Can't make things that easy f'you,” he teased, along with placing a soft kiss to your temple.
You were thankful not to see whatever smug face he had. "You could've humored me a little bit." Your prep time felt like a waste, so you really wanted to put up a better fight.
He pulled you closer in response. The press of his body against you served as a crystal clear reminder for how your little game was meant to end. Eerily confident, his words took a moment to sink in when he began to push up your shirt, lips lingering at your ear to whisper, “Sorry, Angel. You aren’t ever getting away from me.”
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frnkiebby · 16 days
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Frnkiebby’s FellowWhore Appreciation Day(week) Installment Number One:
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(if you have criticism, it’s welcome. but keep it constructive. my life motto is ‘arson is the answer’ for a reason)
You didn’t realize that Frank was no longer at your side until you turned your head to ask him a question.
“I— Frank??”
When you turned to look behind you, you saw him looking into the window of the new shop that had opened the previous week. Smiling to yourself, you walked back to him, scuffing your feet against the cement to catch his attention.
“When did this get here?” he asks, almost offended that he didn’t notice.
“Like….maybe opened a week ago or so?” you made a face and shrugged.
Frank just gapes at you. The look of incredulity on his face breaks any sort of commitment to being serious with him. It’s almost as if once you start laughing you just can’t stop. You’ve never seen a grown man in his 30’s get so miffed over not being told about a new vintage record shop opening up in a town that had at least five other record shops in the vicinity.
“Well you could’ve told me.”
“Is that my job?” you ask. Frank narrows his eyes at you and you have to try even harder to not start laughing again.
“Maybe it fuckin’ should be” he grumbles.
Before you can think of a quip back, he turns and pulls the door, frowning when it doesn’t open. You put your hand over your mouth and just watch the scene unfold. Frank looks to the open sign on the door and back to the handle, pulling again.
“I—“
“Frankie. Baby. See that sign? ‘push’? You’ve gotta push the door open.”
You make a pushing motion when his head whips around to snark something in response. Likely to tell you that you’re wrong. That is until the door swings open and Frank nearly tumbles into the shop owner.
“Oh! Sorry about that young man! I thought maybe the door was stuck again….you do know this is a push door right? Did I make that sign big enough? I’m so sorry!”
The sound of your hand flying to cover your mouth is loud enough that it causes the older gentleman to look at you in confusion.
“No! No, Sir the sign is perfect, your store is perfect! He was just so excited about looking around that I think he just wasn’t paying attention.”
If looks could kill, you would have been dead seven times over with the one playing across Frank’s face. You simply smiled at him and threaded your fingers with his, holding his hand and smiling innocently up at the store owner.
“Well isn’t that sweet! I love seeing such young people taking an interest in older forms of media! Come in, come in!!”
The old man ushered the two of you in and flapped his hands at the numerous stacks and rows of vinyls before promising not to hover and retreating back to his stool behind the counter.
“he does know we’re in our 30’s….right??” Frank asks, leaning over to whisper while eying the owner with mild concern.
“Frank stop. Let the poor guy be excited about such young people taking an interest in older forms of media” you swatted his hand out of yours and nudged him toward the closest row “now go look for more records to add to your hoard.”
He rolled his eyes at you but it didn’t stop the smile that slowly grew on his face. The afternoon progressed in fits of giggles, bargaining between which record to add to your arms, and a very pleased old man thanking the two of you for an eventful time.
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lovries · 2 years
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YOU HAVE A CUTE FACE
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featuring. the demon brothers (lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor). (the dateables version).
summary. whilst staring at his face, you've come to the conclusion that he has a very cute face— and of course you have to let him know.
warning. gn! reader.
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꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── LUCIFER
Lucifer was just trying to eat his breakfast, but your intense staring was beginning to unnerve him. He looked up at you, a brow raised at your concerning and strange actions. "Can I help you with something?" He sounds more worried than annoyed like you thought he would be.
"You have a very cute face." Was how you responded to his question, because you just so happened to realize how adorable he was as he happily ate some delicious breakfast— which he is now trying not to choke on.
You've definitely caught him off guard.
Cute. Cute?
Lucifer was aware he was a good looking person, but he definitely wouldn't use the word 'cute' to describe himself. To be honest, he's a bit miffed that you didn't use something like 'handsome' or 'alluring' but he'll take what he can get, he supposes.
He sighs, shaking your head at your nonsense. "You are something else." He says simply, "I think it'd be much more fitting to say you're the cute one in this relationship."
Lucifer doesn't think more of it after that, although everyone definitely notices the little smile that occupies his face for the rest of the day.
꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── MAMMON
"Oi, why're ya starin'?" Mammon had just been laying on his bed, scrolling through his D.D.D., when he felt your gaze piercing holes through the side of his face. He set his phone aside, sending you an annoyed glare. "Eh? Human? What's the matter with ya?"
"Sorry," You blink out of your trance, grinning up at him. "You just have a really cute face."
"Wha- What the hell are ya talkin' about, don't say weird stuff like that..." He grumbles, quickly turning his head the other way. He would rather join an eating contest with Beelzebub than let you see his softened gaze and blushing cheeks.
"Is that weird?" You chuckle, "I was just being honest~" You coo, deciding to tease him. Of course you knew your words managed to get him flustered (they always do, after all). He huffs, swiftly grab his pillow and throwing it at you.
"What did I just say?" He whines, standing up and giving a little pout.
"Yep, absolutely adorable." You laugh when his eye twitches, only to get hit in the face again with a pillow— however it doesn't quell your laughter at all, instead it only encourages it, your laughs bubbling over.
... You had to chase after him to apologize, so he hopefully wouldn't be too mad at you for the rest of the day.
꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── LEVIATHAN
Leviathan honestly didn't notice your staring until he paused his anime and turned to tell you about a fun fact, only then seeing the fiery passion in your eyes. "W- Why are you looking at me like that?" He felt like he was being stared down by someone like Lucifer, or maybe even Cerberus! It was scary!
"Levi... You're face..." What? What about his face? He hesitantly touched it, fearing he maybe had some crumbs on his face or something, when you said, "It's incredibly cute!"
His eyes nearly bulge out of his head, the tips of his ears turning a bright red. He coughed awkwardly, looking back at the screen. He couldn't bear to face you right now. "Me? Are you sure you mean me?" He asks, biting at his cheek. "A- Are you sure you're not getting me mixed up with one of my brothers or-"
"Nope, I definitely mean you, Levi!"
He feels lightheaded, almost a little nauseous. You think he's cute. Like really, truly believe that! His heart is going to give out! He awkwardly coughs into his fist again.
"I- I don't know what to say... uhm... you're.... c- cute too..."
Nope. He can't take it! He's hiding his burning hot face in his hands, he won't be able to look at you for the next 24 hours.
꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── SATAN
Satan knows. Of course he does, he always know, still... He can't help but set his book to the side and quirk a brow at you. "Is there perhaps a reason to your staring, or...?" Although you're a little shocked at being caught (honestly, you weren't being subtle at all...) you still decide to tell him what's on your mind.
"You just have a cute face, that's all."
Satan can't help but grin, but he tries his best to hide it behind his fist. "I see, so that's it." It's silent for a few seconds, and he's just staring at you now. He seems to snap out of his daze, and chuckles. "Sorry, you're face is rather cute too."
That's right, Satan managed to turn the situation around entirely. He enjoys seeing you get flustered, watching as you turn back to the book you're reading. "Oh? Embarrassed? Aren't you the one who started this, hm?"
Next time, you think, you'll keep your thoughts to yourself.
꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── ASMODEUS
Oh, Asmodeus knows why you're staring at him— it's the reason most people stare at him, but one of his favorite things is getting people to admit why they're staring at him.
Asmo chuckles, shutting your slightly agape mouth and effectively snapping you out of your daze. "Tell me, darling, what seems to have captured your interest so fully, hmm?"
What... Captured... Your attention?
"Ah, your face! It's really cute, Asmo!" You smile up at him, and his eyes widen a fraction. Cute? Well aren't you just wholesome! He definitely wasn't expecting that to be your answer, although it's in the same vein as the usual answers he receives. Either way, Asmo giggles, pinching your cheek.
"Aww darling, you're super cute too! How about we both be adorable together, okay?" Asmo takes your hands and pulls you out of your seat, "Let's go shopping for matching outfits, what do you think? Then we can be even cuter!"
You don't think that's possible, after all, Asmodeus is the cutest thing alive, but...
"Okay, let's go!"
꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── BEELZEBUB
You were studying with Beelzebub, however your words trailed off as you noticed how concentrated he looked. He really wanted to get good grades and make Lucifer proud. It was just too cute; he was too cute.
You didn't even realize you were staring at him until he called your name. "Are you okay?" You blink a few times, your heart racing at being caught staring. "Are you hungry, should we take a break?"
"I'm fine," You wave your hand dismissively, silencing his worries. "Your face is just cute, that's all..." Trying to calm his worry, it seems you rambled out the truth behind your dazed look. Your face instantly drops, and Beel can see you're obviously embarrassed by your blunt words. "Uh, I mean, well I-"
The sound of him trying to stifle his laughter cuts you off, and anxiety begins to fill your thoughts. Was he... laughing at you? You knew Beel would never do that, but still... Eventually he managed to calm himself, a content smile on his lips.
"You're cute too, Y/n."
꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── BELPHEGOR
You were disturbing Belphegors peace. He said you could stay with him as long as you didn't disturb him, but look at what you were doing! He was tossing and turning! Him! He huffs, rolling on to his stomach and turning his head to look at you, an annoyed glare now staring back at you.
"Belphie? I thought you were sleeping!"
"How could I when you're staring at me like that, hm?" He sighs, propping himself up on his elbows. "What? Am I that good looking or something? Can't take your eyes off of me?" He really just wanted to tease you so that you'd hopefully get annoyed and leave him to sleep, but instead you look... embarrassed?
"Well... You have a cute face, you know?"
... Oh.
Belphie sighs, plopping back down and rolling on to his back. "You're so weird..." He grumbles, however if you try to leave you find his cow tail wrapping around your ankle. "I didn't say you could leave... Get under the covers and take a nap with me— try not to stare at me this time." He smirks. Sometimes you do want to punch him, even if he does have a cute face.
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﹙ thank you for reading! have a wonderful day! ﹚
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dollwritesarchive · 1 year
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𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 — 𝐦𝐚𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐨
𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ this is a dark fic! smut ( minors dni ), fem!nanami’s apprentice!reader, virgin!reader, noncon, anal, body morphing ( tentacles, two dicks + some inflation too ), double anal penetration, size kink, mindbreak, bad end, all characters featured are 18+
𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ commissioned by @beebiesworld!! do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3
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“Well, you gave up earlier than I anticipated,” the Curse circled you, eyeing your frame up and down like a hungry animal, a wicked grin pulling his features taut, “Such a shame. I was enjoying chasing you around, the smell of your sweat was so sweet, and you seemed so frightened. Instead of fighting me, you tried to run away; are you sure you’re really a Jujutsu Sorcerer?”
there was a faint sound, the clanging of your daggers hitting the concrete ground at your feet, but it sounded so far away. what was really loud, however, was the beating of your heart. it thumped against your eardrums, it drowned out your panting.
how?
how had he caught up with you so fast?
you hold your hands up above your head in defeat, sheepish at just how he stared at your trembling fingers. you didn’t want him to notice them, but they would’ve been impossible to overlook. “I’m… still in training…”
he gasps with an excited grin and draws closer from behind, until the very shape of his lips forming the words against your ear shifts a tendril out of place, “I see, and does your mentor know you’re here?” you want to cower away from the softness of his voice— it was taunting and cruel, but it sounded so sweet.
you shake your head instead of answering him out loud, the lump growing in your throat making it hard to speak. to say that Nanami Kento didn’t know his pupil had wanted to impress him so badly that she skirted his rules and pursued a curse much too powerful and now she was utterly fucked with no way to call for help was too damning for your lips to bring the words to them.
“No?” both hands snake around to grasp at your arms in the air, and keep them there. your muscles all go taut; your blood freezing in your veins. you remembered what Nanami had said about this curse, and his ability to manipulate the body. would he destroy you this way? you close your eyes tight, and await an excruciating death. “He must be worried about you,” the curse croons against the shell of your ear, before puckering to plant a saccharine kiss on your lobe, his body pressing against yours from behind. “That 7:3 Sorcerer.” the way he spat it, like he was drooling acid into your ear, you knew he meant Nanami. he must still be miffed that your mentor had managed to escape him by pulling a cheap shot. lithe, dangerous digits that were cold to the touch drag along your forearms at a slow pace, and he chuckles. it sends a shiver up your spine. “You must know all about me, then. And our little game we played.”
swallowing hard against the lump blocking your throat, you nod, gathering the courage to speak, even as your voice trembled. “I know… I know how you disfigure innocent people. How you torture them… just by touching them…”
“Does that scare you?” he tilts his head, resting his chin against the crook of your neck, and his hands careen around your shoulders, towards your collarbone, “Knowing that I could pull you apart and put you together again, all wrong. I could disfigure you by force, and it would be so painful your mind just might shatter from the trauma—“ though he was threatening to mutilate you, his voice was lighthearted; playful, even. a new level of malicious that you’d never known before. you knew that he could feel the ferocity of your heartbeat, because his digit tips drummed over your chest in the same, frantic rhythm before they tug at your neckline, gentle and teasing, exposing the tops of your heaving breasts. “If I wanted to.” he pokes out his lower lip in a pensive pout, “But then I wouldn’t get to hear you scream, if I turned your brain to soup right away. I shouldn’t transfigure you, should I? I should keep you together, at least long enough to have my fun…”
don’t be a coward. you wanted to tell yourself this over and over, but it was so much easier said than done. he was considering how to torture you as easily as one might consider their options for dinner. “Why are you toying with me?” your hands clench into fists, falling down at your sides once your arms started to ache, “Stop talking about it, already… if you’re going to kill me, just… do it.”
“Kill?” he sounded genuinely puzzled, and that worried you. “Did I ever say kill? I don’t want to kill you, little sorcerer.” you can feel him moving, even as he’s pressed against you, his feet slipping in between yours, kicking them apart until your legs are spread wide, and something— no, two somethings inching up under your pant legs. they felt like twin serpents, forcing their way through the threading until your bottoms were hanging in tatters against your exposed legs. “I want to ruin you.”
your eyes widen, and your gaze drops to your legs— those tentacles were the same shade of ivory that he was, and they were wrapping themselves around the hem of your panties, like fists ready to jerk them down.
you react, but not fast enough. trying to launch yourself forward, both hands flail to shove at the curse, but he’s coiled two more of those strong, thick cords around your torso, cinching your arms in their constriction. the vice knocks the breath out of you, and you would’ve fallen forward had his many extremities not tangled you up— the very tips of them form fingers, one by one, morphing into stitched hands identical to his original ones, and pull at your clothes, jerking your panties halfway down your thighs. as soon as your sex is met with the cold, damp air of the underground, he inhales deep; smelling you. “Ahhh,” he moans, and the tentacles coiled around your midriff begin to pry at your top, pulling it down, “I can’t wait to destroy you!”
your legs tremor, fighting against the inhuman strength of his organic bondage to try and close, to minimize your exploit, but you’re no match for him, not wrapped up like this. you kick your feet, and scream to be let go. but he giggles, watching you fight for your life, and lose. all the while, those many hands of his grope at you, squeezing and kneading your breasts, long fingers running laps between your folds, coaxing your sex to weep, unwillingly.
“Stop—!” you cry out, writhing hopelessly,
“Why? It seems like you like it, your little cunt is wet!”
but you couldn’t bite back the hapless whining that left your lips fast enough, surprised by the stinging sensation when a middle finger and thumb flick at your sensitive clit. “So swollen already,” he laughs, twisting you around to face him. you see now, as you’re hoisted off the ground, that those tentacles ripped his shirt so severely that it’d slipped from his body completely, leaving his rippled torso bare. he was incredibly muscular, and you hadn’t noticed until now, with his silvery tresses hanging over one shoulder, tickling his navel. the feelers winding up and down your legs spread them further into a wide split, opening you up completely, and you wince. you’d trained plenty, physical feats, but you’d never had your muscles forced this tight. “You must be a virgin, you’re so sensitive.” he hums as he steps closer, his clothed groin pressing flush against your most sensitive portion. you can feel a thick tent, hard and pulsating, just beyond the fabric, attempting to push through and get to your sex, and you mewl, shaking your head, mostly to yourself. “I almost can’t believe that 7:3 Sorcerer didn’t fuck you himself, what with how cute this pussy looks when she’s wet. He hasn’t even seen it, has he? I wonder if he wants to?”
both of his hands reach down, pressing his thumbs against your netherlips, and spreads them apart to expose your maiden entrance, his dual-hued gaze sparkling with wicked delight when you whimper a pathetic, ‘No…’ and shut your eyes tight. it wasn’t an answer to his question ( which seemed to be more of a musing than a true inquiry ), but a protest to his touch. you didn’t have to say out loud that Nanami didn’t see you in that light; he was your teacher. you looked up to him, you saw him as a second father. he wouldn’t think like that. not like this monster.
would he?
you feel pressure, unlike svelte fingers, prodding at your sex. your eyelids snap open and you stare down the sea of slithering tentacles in horror. his hands hadn’t moved, your folds still pulled back, but Mahito has rid himself of his pants and, thus, freed a thick, hard cock from its prison. with just a subtle jut of his hips, he’s able to press the bulbous head against your hole. you clench in response, trying to close completely, but his teasing is just powerful enough to stretch you back open. “Hhhnnnn,” Mahito moans, his tongue darting out to swipe along his lips, “Keep clenching, keep trying to keep me out— it makes me want to hurt you.” one of the hands growing from his many appendages reaches up to caress your cheek, which you promptly turn away from. “You’ll only scream louder when I stuff you full of three, big cocks and make that cute, little hole gape for me.”
three.
you tried not to think about that, but there was no denying the creature before you was demonic enough to conjure and do just what he threatened.
“Nanami… he’ll… come to save me…” you insist, squirming. it was a pathetic attempt to instill fear into the curse— try to scare him with what your mentor might do to him if he follows through with his demented plan.
“I hope so!” Mahito chimes, “I hope he’s on his way right now.” with one hand grasping himself at his base, he drags the engorged tip of his cock between your lips, purposefully bumping your vulnerable clit, and watches you bite your cheek to stifle a breathy sound. “He knows where to find us, and you’ll be broken in long before he makes it here, it’ll be so fun to watch him realize just how helpless I’ve made you. Now, I’ve got a tough decision to make,” thoughtful, Mahito tilts his head to one side, and then the other. you open your eyes, reluctantly, and stare down at his cock, rubbing between your folds. he catches you staring and smiles wickedly, wide, “This tight, little pussy… or…” one more swipe, and this time, his tip pressed against your hole and you braced yourself— were about to be invaded for the first time.
for only a fraction of a second.
before he pushes down on his base, sliding his tool just below your sex; it was slick and shiny with your arousal. the thick head sits flush against your anus, and you haven’t the time to protest, though you suck in a flustered breath to do so, before he plunges inside.
a jolt of pain wracks you, and you cry out, voice breaking, when he forces his way into your canal. he was merciless, instantaneous in falling into a brutal, deep rhythm. you were wincing, one eye closed right whilst the other glared daggers up at him, snorting heavy breaths through your nostrils. sealing your tiers muffled painful whimpers, but your toes still curled, your fists still tightened, in protest.
Mahito swoons, seeing how much you hate having him in your guts, and it only spurs him to fuck you harder— deeper. “Yes! That greedy, wet cunt of yours can wait; it’s much more fun stretching you out this way instead,” he’s purring, lids weighing heavily on his duo-toned eyes, “you look so cute, right now, in so much pain. My cock’s just too big for that virgin asshole of yours, isn’t it?” you nod. you knew he wouldn’t care. hell, maybe he would even find amusement in it and fuck you harder just to inflict more pain, but you answer anyways.
helpless.
pathetic.
both hands clasp against your waist, digging his thumbs against your belly to jerk you back to him each time your body lurched from the power of his thrusts. the intensity, the incessant force behind his cock barreling into your insides was all but maddening. he was right. he was too big for you, he was too rough for you. your body was struggling to keep up with all of the sensation and it overloaded your system. that must’ve been the reason you clenched around air, the reason you felt your stomach bunch up in pleasured knots. right?
you could hear the sound— your sex was dripping down over your ass cheeks, and each time the curse drove himself home, his balls smacked against them, sticking just enough to emit a sickening slap. over and over.
Mahito was panting, but you could tell he wasn’t winded because his velocity never even faltered. he pounded you relentlessly, and squeezed your waist so furious that you could swear he was about to fold you in half at the midriff, his thumbs digging into the squishy flesh. “Still a little vice,” he whined, mostly to himself, “I wanted to get another cock in you, but no matter how hard I drill you to stretch this fuckhole out enough, you still grip like crazy. Heh, let’s see if we can fix that, eh?”
“N—no—!” shaking your head, as fervent as you could muster having been fucked halfway into submission, you mewl out in protest. another cock? your stomach flipped. your body couldn’t even handle this one; surely you would split open if forced to take any more. your opposition fell on utterly deaf ears, because it wasn’t even a full moment later that you felt yourself stretch. “S—stop!” clawing at your own fists, you thrash in the tentacles’ grip; at first, it felt like he was prying you open, your battered ring yielding helplessly to the extraction, but then you could feel it on the inside. your walls were stretching. desperate to accommodate the slow-growing bulge you could see peeking against your belly button. he was inflating himself whilst balls deep in your belly, giving you no choice but to extend around him.
“There we go,” Mahito let out a breathy sigh, but never once let slowed the pistoning of his hips. he was determined to hollow you out completely, “open up, cutie. If you don’t, I might just fuck a hole right through you.”
you’d never felt so full before, and you couldn’t imagine anyone had. your body was stretched, your stomach distended in an unnatural bulge that moved, back and forth, with each merciless hip snap. you could feel every inch, thicker than humanly possible, as they pummeled your rectum. you couldn’t enjoy this. not this pain, not this cruelty.
but your pussy was still wet.
was it the never ending fucking, the constant stabbing at every, intimate nerve inside that was numbing your mind? or had you always been destined to enjoy such depravity?
no, it had to be him.
Mahito was fucking the urge to resist right out of you. with each buck of his hips, each time his balls smashed against you, you were losing a part of your brain. the will to fight back had all but dissipated. as did your hatred of the pain he inflicted.
“N— Naa—nami—“ repeating his name under your breath was the only thing keeping your brain from melting away. forcing yourself to remember that your mentor would come for you. he would save you. if you simply held on to your sanity. “H—help— me—“
“Hmm?” Mahito crooned, his tempo changing drastically for once. he was still incredibly deep, but his thrusts were torturous and slow, coaxing weakened whimpers from your lips each time he pressed his abdomen to yours, as flush to you, as deep in your ass that he could go. “You still remember that 7:3 Sorcerer’s name? Even after I’ve stuffed you to your limit?” he didn’t sound at all disappointed. he sounded… impressed. “Fine, I’ll just have to fuck you until your brain turns to mush.” grinning ear to ear, Mahito releases your stomach, leaving one hand tight on your waist, but the other flees to his groin, gripping the base of a brand new cock growing out from his pelvis. perfectly planted just above his original member, this new appendage is already throbbing and erect when it sprouts, drizzling precum over its twin and your abused hole. “You won’t even remember your own name when I shove this one inside of you. Watch!”
he was so fucking right.
your ring protested taking another, girthy intruder, but he was too strong and, in the end, your body had to give in. worming its way inside, the new cock rubs against the other, coaxing a vulgar moan from your assailant, but you didn’t hear it. this new, impossible feeling had hit a switch in your brain. both dicks bulged in your belly, pressing hard against the sensitive wall protecting your g-spot, scrubbing rough, pulsating veins against the nerves. the two sexes were roughly the same length, jabbing deep in your belly, and when he pulled back, and both withdrew before slamming home, you saw stars behind your eyelids as your head dropped back and you yowled.
Mahito must’ve had an amazing memory, because that very same fierce speed and depth returned to his rocking hips in no time, even as you hang— limp and suspended by those extremities. your mouth was agape, so your moans flowed free, but you couldn’t form any real words. you couldn’t cry for help anymore. your eyes rolled around behind twitching lids.
you didn’t remember Nanami’s name.
you didn’t remember your own.
and you couldn’t care. you couldn’t think.
his cocks seemed to be working in tandem, reaching every sensitive cluster of nerves that you had and punching them over and over, an orchestrated attack to shatter your mind. and it was working.
you felt utterly claimed, decimated. his cocks had invaded you, dominated you, broken you. and deep down you knew that, even if someone did rescue your beaten body from this devil before he crumbled it, your brain was long beyond salvation.
“Poor thing,” Mahito moaned, using his now free hand to press down against the dueling protrusions in your belly, but you only squealed louder when he did so, “you’ll never be the same after this, you know? You’ll never recover from me, and we’re not even close to being finished. This is only your ass, cutie, I’ve still got to conquer that little cunt of yours. I wonder if you’ll even hang on long enough for that, or if your body will simply give out.” but, it didn’t matter to him, not really. you knew that he wouldn’t care if you were mangled beyond repair; he’d said himself, he wanted to break you. “No,” he said, finally, within a whiny, ecstasy filled moan, and grasped your face. squeezing your cheeks together hard, he forced your chin into your chest, and kept your visage angled towards him. he didn’t care if you couldn’t see through your glassy eyes, or that you were drooling all over yourself, he cooed at the sight of your loss against him, “I’ll make sure you stay with me, at least long enough to be the prettiest, sloppiest bait for that 7:3 Sorcerer.”
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he could hear you.
Nanami could hear you, panting, crying, but as he called your name, he got no response. he repeated it over and over, stampeding the corridors, following the helpless sounds of his pupil. please be okay. he didn’t say it out loud, and he didn’t have to. he was the only one there to hear it.
should he have asked for back up? of course. but, Nanami couldn’t wait for anyone else to come to the rescue, and he had a gnawing fear in his gut that he was already too late.
if Mahito had already gotten to you, then he was getting closer and closer to discovering that you had been transfigured, and he would have to put you out of your misery, and he wasn’t even sure he could do that.
his heart was racing, but as he turned the corner, he saw a crumpled figure on the ground just a short sprint away— it was you, he could tell, but he couldn’t make out much more. he barked your name, hoping to grasp your attention as he approached, but when the visage of you finally cleared, his blood ran icy in his veins.
you were on your knees, completely nude, and yet you were slumped forward with your face against the ground, cheek smushed and distorting your expression, forcing one eye closed. the other was half opened— you looked drowsy. but your thighs quivered. his gaze was immediately drawn to them, and he drew in a harsh breath.
one of your hands worked diligently between your hips, your middle two fingers thrusting deep inside of yourself. with each probe, sticky white dribbles out of your cunt and over your hand and wrist. it’s the same as the substance that oozes from your butthole as it spasms. it must’ve also matched the cocktail of cum and spit smeared across your features, and splattered on your ass cheeks and thighs. you were a complete mess, and you didn’t even seem to care.
you hardly even noticed Nanami when he approached you, still fingering yourself, gurgling moaning, your eyelids flittering. “What…” Nanami’s brows knit together, his teeth grind. “What happened to you?“ he asked, but he was already relatively certain that you wouldn’t be able to answer him. mortified, he steps closer, kneeling down with his arms extended, sleeves rolled up and ready to scoop you into his arms. “I’m going to get you out of here—“
“C—cock—“ you whimper, tongue hanging out of your mouth, and Nanami freezes. “P—please… give me… cock… fuck me… use me… h—hurt me… fff— fuck me, p—please…” sharp eyes widening ever so slightly behind his spectacles, he sews his jaw shut right when he hears that damned familiar giggling from behind him.
Mahito had appeared there, clasping his hands together with glee. “I hope you won’t be too mad at me, but I borrowed your little toy here.” he exclaims, gesturing towards the mess of what’s left of you.
when you hear his voice, you shake harder, fucking yourself more fervently with both fingers, and whimpering, “Please… please… fuck me… fuck me… fuck…”
“The only problem is,” Mahito smirks, a devious twinkle in his eye when Nanami turns around, “I think I broke her.”
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deepfrost-citadel · 9 months
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"You know," Xisuma said, peering cautiously over Cub's shoulder at the museum's latest addition, "When you said you wanted to show me a new exhibit, I wasn't expecting…" He trailed off.
Evil Xisuma glowered at him from inside their enclosure.
"…This."
To say Evil X looked a little miffed about the situation would be an understatement. At least Cub had done a nice job decorating, Xisuma thought, between the blackstone and crimson wood, Evil X looked right at home - if they weren't sitting grumpily in their 2-by-1 lava pool, surrounded by the mangled remains of whatever Cub had put in there for enrichment.
"Surprise!" Cub grinned, doing jazz hands at the enclosure, "I know what you might be thinking-"
Xisuma doubted that somehow.
"- 'Cub, Evil Xisuma hasn't done anything this season! They aren't a historic artefact! They shouldn't be in a museum!' But!" Cub wagged a finger triumphantly, "They are important to the history of Hermitcraft as a whole. So really, if you think about it, they definitely belong in a museum."
"… Okay?"
"Glad we're on the same page."
Xisuma wasn't sure if anyone was ever on the same page as Cub. Except maybe Scar.
"Now! As you can see, I've been decorating their enclosure, trying to add some interactive elements for guests and such." Cub pointed towards a line of redstone lamps at the top of Evil Xisuma's enclosure, "These show you how much electricity they're generating when they do their lightning hands thing. I'll be honest with you, it's broken a few times already so it's still a work in progress-"
"… Is that what all the lightning rods are for?" Xisuma frowned, eyeing the entirely lightning rod-ed ceiling.
"It is indeed!" Cub said, ignoring the twinge of concern in Xisuma's voice, "Well, a little. Mostly it's a safety thing, it wouldn't be good to have guests being electrocuted, now would it?"
"I suppose not… And it definitely works?"
"Oh yeah, it's been very thoroughly tested. Hey, Evil Xisuma," Cub walked up to the glass and tapped on it a few times, much to Xisuma's silent horror, "Wanna show X how the lightning rods work?"
In response, Evil Xisuma stuck their middle finger up at him and yelled something muffled to almost inaudibility that sounded a little like: "When I get out of here, I'm going to rip your head off and use it as a coffee mug, you stupid e-boy twink."
The pair on the other side of the glass blinked.
"… That's a no then." Cub turned back to Xisuma, "They do this a lot."
"They certainly do," Xisuma nodded faintly.
"You can probably tell the glass is uh... Mostly noise-cancelling, had to install that because Helsknight is in the next enclosure over and he's still hibernating. You know how Wels gets when you wake him up early, don't wanna find out how that guy is."
"… Of course," Xisuma sighed, pinching the nose bridge of his helmet, "Do I want to know how you got hold of those two?"
Cub laughed in the slightly unhinged way that gave Xisuma visions of Cub spending several weeks toying with the evil hermits as he hunted them for sport, "Nah man, it's not an interesting story."
Somehow, Xisuma doubted that.
"Anyway," Cub said, changing the topic before Xisuma could ask if he knew there was still someone's blood on his left sleeve, "What I really called you for is that I need an Evil Xisuma expert, and you're the man to ask about all things Evil Xisuma."
"Except for Evil Xisuma."
"Except for Evil Xisuma, yes." Cub nodded sagely, "So. Obviously I wanna make sure everything is nice for our new residents, give them plenty of enrichment and all that, but it hasn't been working out so far."
"I can see that."
"Soo… Any suggestions? What kind of thing does Evil X like? Food? Blocks? I dunno, fake derpcoin or something?"
Xisuma hummed, tilting his head in thought as he gazed at Evil Xisuma, who had clambered out of the lava pool to press their hands against the glass and give Xisuma the saddest, most pathetic puppy dog eyes their LED screen could muster (which, admittedly, were very sad and pathetic) in a silent plea to not leave them here with that madman, they'll be good for realsies this time they promise-
"Well," Xisuma said, turning to Cub, "They like to knit, so maybe they'd like some wool… Oh! And if you can find any old Wormman merch, they'll love that too."
Evil Xisuma's head hit the glass with a despairing thunk.
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fariesoiree · 5 months
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it’s completely normal to have a disagreement with your boyfriend but hobie cannot understand why you’d resort to the silent treatment.
caution! mdni 4.5k wrdz, angst to smut pipeline, brat reader, oral ( r. receiving ), fingering ( r. receiving ) pet names, gwen makes an appearance, hobie smokes weed reference, partially unedited pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs
you’re not entirely sure how it happened. or rather, you’re just not ready to admit it, yet. you suppose it really started before you met up with hobie, having woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
everything pissed you off today. the way the outfit you planned looked terrible on you, showing up late to class, getting yelled at by customers at work. every event just piled right on top of each other and made you feel a thousand times worse.
you only made it halfway through the day before a grimace etched itself on your face and your words became short and curt.
the cherry on top was when you planned to lay in the comfort of your bed, only to find yourself whisked away to hobie’s houseboat.
he seemed so happy with his proposition for you to meet a friend of his who just happened to be in town. you couldn’t say no despite so desperately wanting to. when would there ever be a chance that his friend would be back and he’d be this happy to tell you?
and with your terrible mood, your usual demeanor was replaced with something much colder. instead of engaging in the conversation between hobie and gwen, you sit silently in the corner.
your knees are pulled into your chest and you fiddle with the seams of your socks. each sonorous laugh has your teeth grinding. you haven’t uttered much more than a few sentences, wondering when you’re going to be able to make your escape back home.
you miss hobie’s curious peeks. it’s so blaringly obvious that you’re not feeling like yourself. if your silence didn’t give it away, your lack of affection definitely did.
you didn’t squeeze him tight in a hug the moment he showed up at your door. there was no rambling of your day, no kisses and giggles that follow. all the usual bits he loves and look forward to never came and on top of that, he gets the odd feeling you’ve been avoiding his touch since you got there. it makes his stomach twist in knots.
“gwendy,” he says with his eyes darting towards you.
you’re oblivious, nails scraping against the divets and curves in the fabric of his small sofa.
“i’m off to get a drink. want somethin’?”
“i’m good. thanks, though, hobes.” gwen shakes her head with a smile. she’s also just as clueless. having this being her first time meeting you, she just assumes you’re always like this and there’s nothing wrong with being quiet, albeit the way you do it makes her feel a bit uncomfortable.
you press your lips into your knees to hide your scoff. “ ‘hobes’,” you mouth, picking at a thread. it’s such a minuscule detail, one that you’ve repeated overlooked in the past. never has it been anything but a friendly nickname but in your miffed state, it’s a sign of betrayal.
hobie doesn’t need a sixth sense to know there’s an obscure issue. he’s known you long enough to know when you’re irked and how he has to force it out of you.
for your sake and not wanting to draw attention to the situation, he strolls into the kitchen. his slides scrape against the floor. the sound is like nails on a chalkboard and has your face scrunching up.
with just you and gwen left, the silence is deafening. most of the conversation had been with hobie and nothing changed your unwillingness to talk. still, gwen felt the need to try. whether she wanted to relate to another girl or make a good impression is unknown.
“so . . . you and hobie, huh?”
you consider ignoring her but guilt blooms across your skin. even if your worst mood, a small remnant of your manners remain. not enough to make you pleasant, though. “mhm.” you hum, not bothering to look in her direction.
next to you, your phone vibrates to reveal a text. you sit up just enough to lean over it and the screen unlocks after recognizing your face. you’re not dumbfounded that it’s the topic of the conversation himself, requesting your presence.
at some point he’d say something, that you know. doesn’t exactly make you feel any better about it. “i’ll be back,” you mumble, legs unfolding until you’re standing.
you’re not looking forward to the upcoming conversations but you shuffle forward, regardless. your arms are already crossed when you stand in front of him. this is the first time you’re truly looking at him since you got here and your expression is so frigid.
“what’s up with you?” hobie leans against the counter, his arms crossed and mirroring yours. “been pissy all day.”
you know he’s seriously waiting for an answer when he’s unaffected by the eye rolls that follow. “nothing’s wrong. i’m not anything.”
“you’re really goin’ to stand there and tell me there’s nothin’ goin’ on when you’re actin’ like that? come out of it.”
you dodge his narrowing gaze by staring at the kitchen sink instead. your lips are pressed together and your thoughts move at a hundred miles an hour, searching for the perfect method to dissipate this conversation. “i’m fine. there’s nothing going on.”
“then that’s worse,” hobie eyes you down. it makes you feel small, the way his head is tilted and bordering a correctional glare. “then you’re jus’ being mean for no reason.”
“i’m not being mean. i just don’t feel like talking.” it’s not completely a lie. you don’t feel like talking, that’s true, but you’ve also purposefully been abhorrent so you’d have an excuse to leave.
he looks at you incredulously, scrambling to stand and motioning towards gwen’s direction. “you’re not being mean? so you haven’t said a word to gwen and barely two words to me because you ‘don’t feel like talking’.”
“yes. exactly.” you can already tell this isn’t going to end well. not with the way your chest burns with an angry fire. “that’s what i just said.”
hobie feels like he’s talking to a wall with the way you dismiss everything he says. “darlin’, i’m really, really trying not to cause a scene right now but you’re makin’ it harder than it needs to be.” with a hand on your shoulder, he guides you farther back into the kitchen. his patience is wavering, he can feel it. it’s becoming progressively more difficult to maintain his cool. “it doesn’t take fuckin’ einstein to know there’s somethin’ up.”
“you’re trying not to make a scene but you just cussed at me.” you grumble, dragging your feet until you’re stationed next to the glass door.
“i did not – ” he has to stop and take a breath, noticing the crescendo in his voice. “ ☆ , what is wrong with you? your mood is poor and you aren’t even speaking to gwen, which is the whole reason i wanted you to come.”
you glare off the porch, watching the water lap and crash against each other. between everything he said, all you got is he’s prioritizing another girl over you. in your spoiled brain, he should never be scolding you about this. “oh, i’m sorry if i’m making you and gwendy uncomfortable. maybe it would be best if i go.”
“do not do that.” he points at you, thumb facing the ceiling. “do not turn this into something it isn’t.” his restraint officially snapped, words dripping with venom. “everyone is being nothing but nice. you’re the only one here that has an issue. i only asked you what’s wrong because i care about you. stop acting like a – ” hobie pauses again, eyes closing in frustration. “whatever. i’m over it. do what you want.” he waves it off and turns on his heel. he would have considered that a win, had you not stopped him.
“no, say it. call me what you were going to call me.” you dart in front of him, hands on your hips. you should have stopped, let the argument vanish into nothing but you couldn’t help yourself. you had already committed yourself to it.
“just let it go.” hobie attempts to side step you, only for you to stand in front of him again. he has no interest in playing your games so he waits at a standstill. “i don’t want to hurt your feelings and i don’t want to argue. let it go, ☆ .”
“say it,” you insist. you have your head tilted up, basically pressed all up against him. you’re daring him, as if he won’t do it and you don’t expect him to. not once can you remember hobie ever calling you anything but endearing names.
he sucks his teeth and takes a step away from you. you’re unhinged, he decides. daily stress has finally gotten to you and you’ve gone off the rails. “i’m going to say this once and i mean this when i say it. you need to go the fuck home and get your shit together. honestly, love, this is unacceptable and i’m not takin’ this disrespect in my house.”
you wanted to go home. you wanted to go home a while before this but you wanted to go on your own accord. you weren’t supposed to go back and forth like this and he wasn’t supposed to kick you out. “you’re joking, right? hobie, you brought me here. how am i supposed to get home?”
it’s a well known fact that hobie prefers to take the unconventional routes. he’d rather swing than walk and walk than drive. even when it comes to you, he’s always willing to be your transportation so you aren’t driving or being driven around. so when he pulls out his phone and promptly sends you enough money to get an Uber, it truly cements how sincere he is. “go home, lovely. i’ll come by later and we can try this again.”
“ ‘bie,” you sniffle, eyes welling with tears. not only is he kicking you out but he’s also sending you home.
“go home,” he repeats. his parting gift is a pat on the head before he walks past you. you’re unsure whether or not he really saw how distraught you felt but you doubt it would make a difference.
you’re too embarrassed to show your face so you take the back way, exiting through the porch by the kitchen. you circle the boat until reaching the dock and step off, wiping the tears from your cheeks.
it’s unbelievable that your sweet, darling hobie would do this to you. granted, you deserved it and technically got what you wanted.
still, you can’t stop your tears from flowing the whole way home, even up through the lobby of your apartment and into your room. the warmth of your bed is just as you imagined, although now bittersweet.
your eyes are puffy and hurting. you fight the urge to let them close and scroll through your phone. most of the reasoning behind was to see if hobie would text you at all but your notifications remained empty. it stings more than you imagined. he’s always always texted you to make sure you’ve gotten in your room safely.
“whatever,” you toss your phone onto the other side of the bed and roll over. “i don’t need you. enjoy your date with gwendy, hoe.” you mumble into your pillow. you huff, pulling the covers up to your chin. if hobie wants to be like that then fine. he can do what he wants.
LINE BREAK
you stir awake to the sound of your bedroom door clicking shut. you’d be worried if the familiar smell of pine and weed didn’t fill the air. it’s subtle but you know him too well to be wrong.
you reach for your phone, feeling around in the bed until the cool glass meets your palm. the bright screen reads midnight and entirely too far past his normal arrival time.
“you stink,” you mumble when he gets into bed beside you. he has his own bed but he’s so accustomed to you and your warmth, hobie can’t help but make his way to wherever you are.
“don’t kill my high.” his gruff whisper fills your ear. he slips his arm between you and the mattress to pull you into his chest. “sent gwen off and came here. didn’t have time to enjoy it, yet.”
you purse your lips, flashbacks of earlier in the day coming flooding in. your nap nearly wiped all those memories away. he just said to bring it up, again. and right on cue —
“feelin’ better?” he splays his over your tummy and brushes his thumb back and forth along your skin. “we can talk about it, again.”
you don’t respond, too busy feeling crossed. it would be best to reopen the discussion now that your emotions aren’t running as high but you’re too petty to do that. hobie wronged you. he started an argument and kicked you out. he didn’t even check to see if you made it home safe.
“lovey? you okay?” he taps his fingers against you. maybe you fell asleep on him.
nothing.
hobie sits up. you can feel his weight shift as he peers over your body. your eyes are open and he can see you looking at him, you’re just not speaking. he raises a brow and pushes your shoulder over until you’re on your back with a clear view of each other. “do you hear me talkin’ to you or what?”
he’s peeved when you roll over without even acknowledging him. “absolutely fuckin’ not.” he pushes your shoulder down again and holds it there. “you givin’ me the silent treatment?”
you shrug.
you fucking shrug.
hobie considers himself a rational person. if he’s upset, he’ll talk about it. if he’s not ready to talk about it, he’ll let you know. if he notices you’re too upset to communicate efficiently, he’ll give you space. what he will not tolerate is bullshit like this. you’re ignoring him, purposefully not saying anything and he’s expected to take it?
“i’m talkin’ to you.” he squishes your cheeks is his hand until they pucker, eyes narrowed into slits. he doesn’t know what your problem is but he’s sure if you continue like this, he’ll snap the world in half.
you pull away from him, reeling your head back until it’s out of his grasp. with you’re newfound freedom, you roll over and tap your phone. it’s now half past midnight and you’re losing hours on sleep.
hobie watches, enraged, as you slide it beside your pillow and snuggle deeper into the comfort of your bed. he doesn’t move, still processing his emotions. what he wants to do is pull you into his lap and keep you up all night until you speak to him but he figures it just make you more irritable.
so he scoffs and lays back down beside you. “okay. throw your tantrum. we’ll talk in the morning.” he pulls you into his chest, regardless, fingers curling around your waist. his lips are pressed together and by your ear.
he’s hopeful that in the morning, this mood you’re in will pass. that’s the notion he holds on to while he drifts off into his slumber and the same one he wakes up to when he’s reaching for your missing body.
the sun is up and beaming through the sheer layer of curtains. you must have opened the blackout layer behind them. he can hear the shower water running to a stop. hobie rubs his eyes and pulls his arm over his head for a stretch.
it’s a bit odd, he thinks, that you’ve woken up without him. he doesn’t think you’ve rolled over and pressed soft kisses on his face until he’s waking. maybe you did and he went back to sleep.
his legs carry himself into the bathroom where you reside. he’s operating off your normal schedule, getting ready together. he’s surprised when he turns the handle, only for it to fall short. “the door is locked, sweetheart.”
hobie leans against the frame. he’s tall enough to take up the entirety of the space. his hand comes up to rub his face once before he realizes the amount of time that’s passing right now. he can hear you in there, hear the water in the sink running but you don’t open the door.
his first thought it maybe you just can’t open it right now.
he, however, comes to his second thought when you do open it and scroll right past him without one glance in his direction.
you’re still ignoring him.
“oi duck, here’s what’s going to happen.” hobie knows you’re listening when you pause, hand freezing at the lotion pump. “i’m going to go brush my teeth, yeah? and you’re going to get over this thing you’re in and when i come back, we’re going to sit down and talk about this like adults.”
what he doesn’t know is the insinuation you’re not acting like an adult sends you farther into you stubbornness. to be truthful, he’s not wrong. you’re only doing this to make a point, to stick it to him that you didn’t appreciate what he did to you
you scoff to yourself and have a seat at your vanity. “who does he think he is?” you mumble, unscrewing the lid to your toner. “telling me what i’m gonna do. i’ll talk when i want to.”
you can see him in the mirror. with the bathroom door wide open, you get a perfect view of him slowly turning his head towards you, toothbrush dangling from his mouth.
it dawns on you that he heard you when he’s hastily rinsing out his mouth. you jump to your feet so quickly, the chair nearly topples to the ground. you’re darting across the room on the way out.
you only make it halfway before a sticky web is wrapped around your waist and pulling you back to the center of the room.
“what’d you say, sweetheart?” hobie turns you around, hands planted firmly on your hips. his fingers dig into your skin as if ready to pull the answer out of you.
you persist with your silence even while your heart beats out of your chest. you avoid looking at him, instead staring at the the gleaming silver hoop pierced through his nose.
your refusal to say anything has him ticked off. you haven’t said a word to him since last night and the only time you’ve even acknowledged him is to talk shit.
hobie isn’t having that.
he doesn’t bother to ask you again. he picks you up easy, a hand wrapped around your waist. he considers himself to be patient, letting you have your fun. he didn’t say anything to you last night, he forgave you for trying to incite an argument, he was even giving you another chance and was willing to work through it.
it’s you who’s making it difficult, uncooperating like a unreasonable person. you won’t even tell him why. how is he supposed to mend the situation if he doesn’t know what the problem is?
“you’re pissin’ me off.” he drops you on the edge of the bed. his talk could be mistaken as directed towards you but in actuality, he’s ranting to himself. “so spoiled y’know? throwing a fit for no reason.”
you freeze when he hooks his fingers inside the waistband of your shorts. your instincts are screaming at you to whine and complain but your intransigency is too focused on making a point.
“i’m so gentle with you and you take me for granted. showed up mad and that’s my fault? should have just told me but that’s too much to ask.”
a sharp gasp is ripped from you when hobie rips your panties off you. the seams pop and snap under the stress of his rapid tug.
he pushes you back and down on the bed with a large hand on your chest. “to be frank, i don’t want to see you. i don’t want to hear you either unless you’re gonna tell me what the fuck is wrong with you.”
you’re tempted to protest, already preparing to draw away from him but hobie beats you to it. he pins your waist down and peels your folds apart. he licks a stripe up your cunt, spit dribbling and mixing with your juices.
you keen, back lifting off your bed. it’s sickening how his knowledge of your body is affecting you this time. usually, it would entail the best orgasm of your life but now it meant you’d be eternally suffering.
he pushes your back down with a grunt. it’s as if every little movement you did only sent hobie father off the edge.
he pushes your leg up by the underside of your thigh until your knee is pressing against your chest. hobie’s nose bumps against your clit and his tongue probs at the walls of your slit.
“fuck! that’s so – ” your scream is cut short by a gulp of air. your hand reaches down to grasp hobie’s wicks, only for him to swat you hand away.
you cum rather quickly, pussy throbbing from the stimulation. by the time you’re sitting up, hobie is staring at you with half lidded eyes. he has yet to remove his grip, lips glistening from your arousal.
neither of you speak, the air growing thicker with tension. your gaze darts between both of hobie’s peering brown eyes before you turn your head away with a huff.
the smack of hobie’s hand against your thigh rings in the air. his demands for your attention has you whining. your skin blooms with a stinging pain, only for it to be followed by another. you’re not moving fast enough for him.
only when your eyes lock does he lightly trace his fingers over your skin. hobie, however, has no plans in letting up with his lesson. he thumbs at the hood of your clit, pulling it back until the puffy bundle is nerves is revealed.
so badly does he want to coo his praise but every time he thinks about how you treated him, his heart burns just the same.
you struggle against his grasp to clamp your legs shut when he wraps his tongue around it. thanks to his hands anchoring you in place, you’re forced to endure all of it.
you twitch and tweak, hands curling around the fabric of your shirt. this is wild, you think, all to get an answer out of you. the deep, docile part of your brain is ready to do whatever he asks to get the soft touches and sweet names, again.
“ ‘bie,” you mewl, reaching out for him again.
“ready to talk?” hobie lifts his head, replacing his tongue with his thumb, performing tiny circles. he’s disappointed when he’s listening to your moans and hums instead of a explanation. how long will you continue to do this?
he drives his fingers into your cunt, a sigh fanning over you skin leaving it hot and sticky with your cum. “you’re being such a brat today. how hard is it to open your fuckin’ mouth?”
he’s relentless with it, routinely pressing his fingers against the spot that has you crying. he tunes out your warbling, sucking in a breath. “can’t believe you tried to make it about gwen knowing damn well this is your problem.”
his words go straight to your cunt. it’s unexpected, the way you tighten and gush. you’re humiliated and even more so when hobie scoffs. “no chance you’re getting off on this.”
your body tenses, coiling in on itself. your chest rises with one final heave before your cunt is spasming around his fingers. hobie doesn’t cut back, head tilted as you wail.
“why aren’t you talking to me?” he fingerfucks you past your orgasm. he’s unaffected by your squirming to get away from him, pulling you back by your waist.
“it’s too much,” you sob, hand pushing at his.
“that’s not what i asked,” hobie shoves your hand away for the second time that morning. he’s fed up. his hand pops down on your cunny, ogling at the shining cream pouring out.
“ ‘cause,” the tears spill over your waterline and cascade down your face.
“ ‘cause what?” hobie finally removes his hold on you and takes his place next to you in the bed. he pulls your putty body into his lap, a hand on your chins to direct your attention.
you sniffle, lips trembling. you’re hesitating, already knowing how he’s going to react. forming a verbal reason makes you realize how immature you’ve been.
“angel,” his voice is heavy with a warning. you can feel the heat of his fingers slot their way beneath you.
your expression immediately contorts at the feeling of your sensitive nerves being stimulated. “ ‘cause,” you scramble for words, shifting until you can no longer feel him. “i don’t know.”
his fingers find their place again, this time pushing back into you with seething annoyance. “you . . . don’t know? so you did all that ‘cause you don’t know?”
they move slowly. slow enough to draw out soft pants and keep you talking. “i –,” you hiccup, “was upset.” you find yourself chewing on your bottom lip. there is no reasonable excuse. he’s about to that find out.
“mhm,” hobie hums, still dissatisfied with your words. “and did that have anything to do with me?” he feels the answer is obvious but there’s always some gratification in hearing you say it.
your head shakes in a tiny swivel. your hands clench into fists and quiver. having being toyed with for so long, hobie could spit on your cunt and you’d cum. when he’s pressing your spot like this, you’re nearly spilling out your arousal.
“didn’t think so.” hobie pressed his lips into a firm line. he takes pity when you lean your weight against him at the feeling of his digits pump in your tight hole.
his poor girl can’t even sit up on her own. she’s having to resort to using him to hold her up. of course it’s entirely your fault but at least you admitted it.
“that’s all you head do to, love. all this is unnecessary,” hobie mumbles underneath your whimpers.
there’s a soothing hand circling your hip through your orgasm. he listens to your babbling with soft shushes and promises of relief.
all he really wanted was to get the explanation out of you. to begin the start of conversation. hobie knew he could do it. after all, you’re his sweet girl. his ray of sunshine.
when your pants turn into into soft heaves is when hobie lifts your head, held in the palm of his hand. “listen to me, ducky.” he’s firm, eyes narrowed. “never ever do that again, you hear me? you have a problem, you talk about it.”
your half lidded eyes are full of passivity and you nod. you’re resting against him, pleased when hobie’s long arms envelop you in a warm embrace. “ ‘m sorry, hobie. i really am. i didn’t mean it.”
his hands run along your spine and be pressed a kiss atop your head. “i know, dolly. i know.”
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