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#but well intended... doesn't want to worry him
highvern · 3 days
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YUCK
Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader
Genre: fluff, suggestive moments
warnings: mentions of illness/body fluids (snot, vomit), avoidant attachment from reader, Hoshi best boy
Length: ~2.9k
Note: more of this couples bc im crazy thank u @gyuswhore
series m.list: Houdini [s], Green Light [s, f], Talk [a, s, f]
m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
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Two and a half months of hooking up with a guy who may or may not be a furry and things start feeling…comfortable. 
You’ll pretend until the day you die that every time the weekend rolls around you won’t end up naked in Soonyoung’s bed. Or your own. Usually it is your own because he has more roommates than you and yours leaves to stay at her boyfriend’s until Monday night which means there is no need to keep quiet (which you and Soonyoung both struggle with but you refuse to acknowledge that fact). 
It allows for many nights bent over the kitchen counter, Soonyoung’s chest hot against the back of your thighs as he works you up with his mouth. Or occasional nights on the couch after you both are too into each other to make it upstairs to your room, planted firmly in his lap while pinning his hands to the cushions. There's also the nights he drags you straight to bed and demonstrates exactly what all the pictures you took while tucked away in the privacy of a gross bar bathroom did to him. 
You’re pretty sure Soonyoung has picked up on your game by now because instead of asking ‘if’ he’s taken to asking ‘when’ he can come over. And it's annoying that it doesn’t really annoy you at all.
Soonyoung comes over on Friday nights and leaves Saturday afternoon, except when he shows up on Saturday mornings and stays well into Sunday night. Or the occasional weekend where you remember who you are and show up on his door and leave three hours later with cum still drying on your thigh as you walk past his roommates still pregaming in the living room.
Except now it's Friday and you’ve got nothing on your mind except for the inside of a toilet bowl and the cool tile of the bathroom floor.
Call it food poisoning or maybe the flu, but you’ve been in and out of sleep since the early hours of dawn. Shivering on the floor, the only company you have is a pile of dirty clothes. Even the crack of light under the door is too much stimulation for your illness-racked brain to tolerate.
“Y/N?” your roommate calls from the other side of the darkness, out in the hallway where it's safe from whatever curse is making home in your gut. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay home? I don’t mind.”
“I’m fine,” you groan. Your words couldn’t convince the deaf but you try anyway. 
She responds but it slips right past because another bout of nausea takes hold.
You manage to fall asleep at some point, clammy on the floor with aching hips. Maybe an hour or maybe ten minutes. It doesn't really make a difference because you still feel like shit when the door opens and the hall light burns through your retinas.
“Hazel, I said I’m— What are you doing here?” you croak from the floor. 
Soonyoung stairs down at you, face soft with something that might be worry but it’s probably just the fever melting your brain. “You look like shit.” 
“You always know just what to say.” The usual snark isn’t there, replaced by a pathetic helpless whine of discomfort because all you want is to curl up and die. “Did you come to insult me or…?”
“Hazel let me know you were sick and usually sick people need medicine and soup so I brought that and this tea my mom used to give me as a kid.” 
“Are you trying to cure me so you can get your dick wet?” 
“No. If I wanted to stick my dick in a Petri dish I feel like there are easier ways to go about it.” He kneels right next to you like he isn’t the slightest bit concerned about catching the plague brewing in your immune system. A cool hand cups your cheek, thumb gentle at your temple where a dull throb has haunted you all day. You lean into the comforting touch without much thought.  “When was the last time you showered?” 
“I don’t know. Like two days ago?” 
“Yeah, I can smell that. Alright my little germ cell, let’s get you cleaned up.” 
His arms snake under yours, dragging you from the floor even with your muscles limp. It takes more maneuvering but you don’t bother helping. If he wants to play not-so-sexy nurse and patient then that's his problem. The warmth of his sweater is welcome though. 
“Is this some weird fetish thing?” Nose buried in Soonyoung’s chest, it comes out in a jumble. “Because I can’t handle this and the furry stuff.” 
“Yes, caring about your health is a fetish for me. Really gets me off knowing you’ve been a good girl and taken your vitamins.” 
“I knew it.” you whisper. “I’m not calling you daddy if that’s what you want.” 
Soonyoung laughs and the movement sends another bolt of pain through your skull. He tuts over your responding whimper and what may be his lips press to the side of your head briefly. It’s warm and comforting, the beat of his heart lulling you into the first satisfying rest since you woke up. Your hands bunching the front of his shirt are desperate for anything to keep you steady. 
Thankfully, he doesn’t release you while setting things up for a shower; accommodating for your weight with a slow shuffle and more placating coos against your hairline every time you protest a sudden jostle. The chill of the bathroom fully sets in when he pushes down your sweats and shucks off your snot stained sweater before tossing away his own. If you weren’t barely functioning it might even be impressive that he’s kept you in his arms the entire time.
“If you’re trying to fuck me, I hope you don’t mind snot.” You blow your nose against the curve of his neck just to be a bitch. 
You feel more naked under the stream of water than you ever have, which is ironic given you’ve had Soonyoung face to crotch more times than you can count. Something about the non-sexual nature of nudeness, feeling the least sexy you ever have while he scrubs you down with gentle hands, turns your stomach more than before.
“I’m not trying to fuck you,” he laughs again; a thousand volts straight to the heart. “Don’t worry.” 
You pop out of hiding, hurt by the idea. “You don’t want to fuck me?” 
Soonyoung’s face is soft, cheeks round and hair already damp to his forehead. He isn’t disgusted by the puke on your breath or the sweat matting your hair. Or if he is, he hides it well. “I always want to fuck you but right now I’m trying to make sure you don’t die.” 
You dive back into his shoulder, mind numb to anything beyond the silky feel of hands washing away days of ick. You’ve felt his hands on almost every part of your body but right now they lack the characteristic urgency from those moments where you can’t get enough of each other quick enough. He’s touching you the way he does in the glow of the moon after you’ve both been satisfied, when Soonyoung thinks you’re asleep and you let him as every curve and dip and hill of your body is covered in gentle strokes like he’s committing you to memory.
“I can do that on my own,” you argue. 
The facts aren’t stacked in your favor right now but it’s the principle: you don’t need him to take care of you. You can handle it on your own. He’s only here because you let him.
“Oh, I know. Now close your eyes so I don’t get soap in them.”
He cups your face, thumbs rubbing away the sweat that's been caked on since morning. Then it’s a rough washcloth doused in the scent of your face wash but you swat it away in favor of the calluses on his fingers. If you weren’t a dead woman walking he’d never get a chance to be this close. 
How is it more terrifying for someone to wipe away your boogers than let him see you naked multiple times a week? A question knotting your stomach into tight pieces as Soonyoung hums some tune you don’t recognize like he’s more than happy to do so.
Your brain stops working after so long; too exhausted from everything to think more about what this all means. Not even the familiar flat press of his front against yours can incite a response beyond content. All the world shrinks into the pitter patter of the water swirling around the drain, and the parts that are warmed by Soonyoung and the parts that are waiting to be.
When you come back to awareness, the waters off and he is whispering something into your clammy forehead.
“Hmmm?” 
“I said, it’s time to get out.”
More shuffling gets you back into your room where the mattress takes your weight while he digs around for fresh clothes. You roll onto your side, clad in a towel and nothing else, resound to fall asleep then and there.
“Alright, arms up,” he commands. 
You try to pull away, diving back into the pillow soaked from your hair but Soonyoung gets you up at the waist, maneuvering stiff limbs patiently.
“Do you have an armpit fetish too?” you ask with the collar stuck around the top of your head. 
“And you call me a freak?”
Next is pants, and it takes a few tries for you to even consider being helpful. Soonyoung lifts each leg individually, working the fabric as far as he can. Then a few dramatic grunts from coordinating your entire body weight but you’re back in a clean pair of pajamas and tucked under the covers. Soonyoung didn’t rise to any more of your snide remarks about being naked. He simply avoiding your bare skin like it’d burn. Not even his favorite thing about you (boobs) gets any attention, just a few chuckles and more kisses into your temple.
You melt into the plush mattress, hidden beneath a pile of blankets from the cruel world that cursed you with new realizations you're not prepared for just yet. 
Eyes closed the entire time, you hear Soonyoung leave without so much as a goodbye. In theory it’s what you want. Exactly how you prefer; you alone, him somewhere you can pretend all the confounding feelings don’t exist. You didn’t even want him to show up in the first place, but now that he’s been here and you’re horrifically aware how nice it feels to have someone take care of you. You miss him. 
And as soon as the pit opens up, you hear someone shuffling down the hall coming towards your room.
“Alright, once you eat something you can sleep.”
The thought of food tightens your stomach more than the fact he didn’t leave you but he’s right. You need fluids and you’re not strong willed enough to get them yourself.
After the first few bites, you feel a little more human and less like a walking sack of shit. With it, the discomfort of this entire ordeal rears with a new vengeance. 
“Why are you here?” It sounds like an accusation.
He doesn’t even miss a beat. “Because I like you.” 
Soonyoung says it matter of factly, the same way the sky is blue and water is wet, while shoving another bite into your mouth.
You’re too exhausted for a fight right now; not with the only person making a real effort to keep you alive, but the instinct is strong after years of low expectations and plenty of disappointment.
“Why?” 
“Because I just do.” 
Your eyes meet over the spoon. He doesn’t look annoyed or perturbed or even angry. He likes you whether you like it or not. 
“I don’t date.” 
“Okay,” he agrees, wiping at the spill dripping from your chin.
“You aren’t gonna argue?” 
“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ and your need for confrontation with it. “You don’t wanna date? That’s fine. I’ll take whatever I can get, even if that’s spoon feeding you on your deathbed.” 
You take the next bite before commenting, “You’re so weird.” 
“I like you too. Now open up for the airplane.” He makes the noise and the medicine twists your brain into actually finding it funny. “How are you pretty even when you’re blowing your nose on my shirt?”
“Deal with the devil.”
He passes you a cold cup when you brush away the remainder of the soup. One sip is all it takes.
“How did you know I like the orange Gatorade?”
“I asked Jun to give me June’s number and she gave me Hazel’s number and I asked while I was at the store.”
“You went through all that trouble just to buy me the right Gatorade?” you snort.
“It really wasn’t any trouble.”
It isn’t but it’s more than anyone else has ever done for you. The fresh wave of nausea has nothing to do with your cold.
“I’m tired,” you tell him. 
The mess is cleaned up in silence. You pretend to fall asleep and Soonyoung lets you until he’s shoving more medicine your way. 
You shake your head, failing to refuse because Soonyoung is doing that dumb airplane nose again and when you cough up a laugh he shoves the spoon in your mouth and you’re left with no choice but to swallow.
Then he’s up and you watch through heavy eyes as he gathers his things. You’ll blame it on the drugs loosening the clutch you have on your emotions later.
“Where are you going?” you ask with faux apathy, negated by the fist tangled in the hem of his sweatshirt in case he evaporates away.
“Home. Unless…you want me to stay?” A tug at the sweater is your answer to that horrible thought. “Oh, thank god – I was getting sad.”
You roll over, offering him your back to curl around. The muscles tensed around your spine soften when he does. 
I sleep better when you’re here.
You won’t tell him that but Soonyoung stiffens for a moment and the fear you’ve said the wrong thing creeps in where fatigue hasn’t rooted just yet. But a kiss to your covered shoulder and a hand under your sweater, flat against your stomach so you stay as close as possible calms the thoughts enough you can drift off.
It’s strange. Having the heat of his body at your back without the limpness of a good fuck still coursing through your veins to thaw the parts that hate pillow talk and the stickiness that come with it.
What's even stranger is that you don’t really mind it all. If anything, it’s actually pretty nice.
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Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie
@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire
@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes
@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos
© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.
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yanderes-galore · 23 hours
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Platonic yandere Jonathan Joestar with a childhood friend darling, please and thank you ^_^
Ah yes, your new bodyguard. Hope you like this and sorry it took so long!
Yandere! Platonic! Jonathan Joestar with Childhood Friend! Darling
Pairing: Platonic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Slight manipulation, Violence, Blood, Dubious companionship.
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I called Jonathan something similar to a bear in his original concept.
Well, that's true here.
Towards you Jonathan is very respectable and polite.
He's also a man who would want to defend the "honor" of his best friend.
Jonathan isn't very popular despite his attempts to be a gentleman.
Everyone always saw him as the rich kid in school.
So he was actually often a target of bullying rather than being popular.
Except with you.
Jonathan met you at school when you were young and you both became childhood friends.
As a result, while you grew up he was often protective.
You were one of his only friends except his dog and his girlfriend, Erina.
Honestly, as much as he wanted to get along with Dio, it wasn't happening.
This made you one of the few people Jonathan still talked to from his youth.
Which meant you were always under his protection.
Jonathan doesn't mind bullies picking on him, but you?
If he sees you being messed with he intervenes.
I'm talking Jonathan would get into huge fist fights if it meant defending you and your honor.
By the time you pull him out of it, he's bloody and you have to drag him off to get cleaned up.
To you both, you're childhood friends.
To others, it looks like he's a bodyguard.
Perhaps he is when it comes to you.
When you two were young you were originally of similar builds.
Although, as you got older, Jonathan's size dwarfed you.
When you're in Highschool, both Jonathan and Dio dwarf you, actually.
Before Dio came along, Jonathan often played with you and Danny outside.
You loved being around him and the dog, when Erina came over you often invited her to join you and Jonathan.
When Dio moved in, there's the canonical clashing he and Jonathan have.
Although the moment Dio slanders you or picks on you in your youth, Jonathan steps in.
Jonathan often keeps you away from Dio due to this.
When you're in the mansion, Jonathan is never far behind.
When you're at school, he's there too.
Jonathan is aware of Dio's tendency to prey on you.
He can't do it without going through Jonathan.
Dio intends to make Jonathan suffer, which often includes sabotaging relationships.
Dio would definitely try his best to make you hate Jonathan.
Yet it's not very successful since Jonathan is always around.
On a more light-hearted note, Jonathan probably likes to carry you around due to his size.
You're more of a sibling to him than Dio.
Jonathan's protective nature towards you continues even after Dio becomes a vampire.
He actually hates the fact he's bedridden due to the fire, you could be vulnerable.
But Erina always manages to meet with you upon Jonathan's request so you can both visit him as he recovers.
Jonathan is still tamer than most JJBA yanderes, just being a bit overbearing.
He'd want to get stronger and take on Dio for the sake of both you and Erina.
He wants to marry Erina and have you alongside him.
As usual, you can imagine he'd be devastated if you were harmed by Dio.
It's not just bullying or teasing anymore.
Dio could easily kill you and take your blood.
Jonathan often worries about you.
He knows his strength should be used to protect those he loves.
You may not like him violent... but he'd do anything to protect you.
Jonathan does not kill out of jealousy.
He does not kill out of sadism.
Even when obsessed with you, he only kills if he'll lose you.
The blood on his hands is for your happiness.
In fact, Jonathan would love to see his best friend fall in love and get married like him.
He wants to support you.
He doesn't want you scared of him, he's protecting you.
If anyone threatens your happiness, he'll be there.
He actually isn't that bad with you.
If you get a partner, then he judges them to make sure they have your best interests at heart.
If they break your heart then he'd probably break them.
Jonathan may be clingy and overprotective... but he's a hero, isn't he?
He protected you from Dio just like he always has.
When you were injured, he stuck by you.
Every hug he gives is caring.
It doesn't matter if he has blood on his hands for you, right?
He just wants the best for you...
So he'll never leave you alone.
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meluiloth · 2 days
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Tauriel Rewrite, pt 2
part 1 part 3
This is a reimagining of Tauriel's story in The Hobbit movies! In part 1, I covered everything from a brief background of her life and position in Mirkwood to the Dwarves' escape; I tweaked a few of the details, including Tauriel's dynamics with Legolas, Thranduil, and Kili (taking out the love triangle entirely) and expanding upon her own motivation to save Mirkwood through expanding their borders and how that conflicts with the rest of her peoples' desire to remain secluded.
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Tauriel is furious. She is not used to failure, and she feels humiliated and betrayed by the Dwarves' escape; both Thranduil and Legolas assure her that she did nothing wrong, and that the Dwarves were now no longer their concern, but Tauriel wants to go and retrieve them. Thranduil turns stern and says she is to remain in Mirkwood in case there are more Orcs. He tells her that the Dwarves were but a small inconvenience that has passed out of sight, and she should therefore forget about them and let things go back to normal. Tauriel, though visibly dissatisfied, says nothing, only bows and leaves.
As soon as she leaves the King's quarters, she gathers a few supplies and tells the sentries that she's going on patrol, intending to go search for the prisoners despite Thranduil's orders. The sentries warn her that the King ordered them to shut the gates - and she stops for a moment, suddenly feeling worried about her plan, but shakes her head and leaves anyways. She's determined to get those Dwarves back.
When she reaches the border of Mirkwood, however, she discovers that Legolas has followed her. He entreats her to return, saying that Thranduil doesn't know she's gone yet, and that the Dwarves are long gone by now. Frustrated, Tauriel tells him that it isn't only about the Dwarves, but about Mirkwood itself - she's tired of waiting for darkness to overcome them, and says that if she can just get the Dwarves back safely she can prove that she can not only handle herself out in the world, but that the Elves still have agency in their own story and will not be overlooked any longer. She hesitates, then tells Legolas that she isn't asking him to defy his own father, which is why she didn't tell him she was leaving; she assures him that she still loves them both, but she has to do this. Legolas says nothing for a long time, then says that it would be stupid of him to let his little sister go and tackle a horde of Orcs on her own, and that the only thing he's better at than wielding a bow is irritating his father. They set of together towards Laketown.
They reach the town the next evening; their presence draws a few stares from the locals, as few of them have seen the Elves of Mirkwood despite regularly buying their wine. Tauriel asks them about the Dwarves, and they say that most of them already left for the Lonely Mountain. This frustrates Tauriel, but someone says they saw two or three Dwarves go back to the house of Bard the Bowman. Tauriel suggests she and Legolas split up - Legolas going toward the Lonely Mountain and Tauriel going to the house - but Legolas says the journey would be too dangerous and starts towards Bard's house.
When they reach the place, however, they discover it is being attacked by a band of Orc hunters. Tauriel and Legolas quickly dispatch them, though a few escape, and Legolas goes after them, leaving Tauriel alone with the occupants of the house: three children, and three of the thirteen Dwarves.
Tauriel immediately advances upon them, angry that they escaped, but stops when she sees that Kili is wounded - the others tell her that he was shot by a poisoned arrow during their escape from Mirkwood, and that he may be dying. This makes Tauriel temporarily forget her rage, and she realizes that she's very worried about Kili, who does look on the verge of death. She sees that there is an array of weak medicines on the table, as well as a bunch of athelas - and, though she may not be a good healer, she is the best option at the moment, and she sets to work healing him. It's an ugly process, and she regrets not pursuing the path of healing further, but she gets the job done and within a few hours, Kili is already looking a lot better. He smiles dazedly at Tauriel, mumbling that he was glad she was here. Despite her exhaustion and annoyance, Tauriel gives him a small smile in return and says that she is too; she cannot deny that it's thrilling to finally be out in the world.
Now that the threat of death is gone, Tauriel remembers why she came here - although now that she's with these Dwarves, her willingness to clap them in irons and bring them back to Mirkwood is somewhat diminished. Nevertheless, she set out to do a job, and she is determined to complete it to earn back her honor. However, before she can do anything, the sky is split by a great rumbling and a flash of golden light.
The dragon Smaug is attacking Laketown, something Tauriel would have never thought possible - but there isn't time to think about anything but getting out alive. She herds the family and the Dwarves out of the house, and they quickly find a boat; she doesn't know much about sailing, so she lets the girls handle the boat as the city burns around them. The boy leaves them to look for his father, against her protestations, which brings her mind to another thought that stops her heart: Legolas isn't with them. The thought fills her with fear - if he died, she could not live with herself - but there's no way to go back and search for him. There is fire everywhere. She can only hope that he made it out of Laketown before Smaug attacked, just as he is likely hoping the same about her.
It's a hellish road away from the city, but she and her companions finally drift out into open water, along with several other small boats, and they drag themselves to shore; they all smell like smoke. Tauriel watches in openmouthed horror as Smaug falls from the sky, killed by some unknown force. Even though their home is in ruins, the people of Laketown cheer as they watch the monster die.
When morning dawns, Tauriel is relieved to have survived, but the feeling is almost overshadowed by her anxiety about Legolas. She should have stayed with him the entire time! It would be her fault if he didn't make it. The Dwarves, not noticing her distress, work to push their boat back into the water; Tauriel briefly sets her worry aside to ask them where they're going. When they answer that they will go to Erebor, she remembers that she came to apprehend them - and when she says so, their faces turn hard, even Kili's. He says that she should understand their pain, since her own home is falling into shadow, and Tauriel wrestles with her loyalty to her home and her pity for the Dwarves. She decides to let them go. The hostile look on Kili's face vanishes, and he thanks her earnestly; as a parting gift, he gives her a small talisman, a stone with a Dwarven rune carved into it, which his mother gave him. He says it represents a promise he made to her - to return to her alive - and now he is making a promise to Tauriel that her friendship will not be forgotten.
Footsteps sound behind her as she watches the Dwarves row up the river, and she turns to see Legolas standing behind her, covered in scratches, but sporting no burn marks; she is filled with relief and embraces him. She had thought him dead, she says. He gives a rasping laugh and says it would take more than Orcs or dragons to kill him. He looks over her shoulder and comments about how she let the Dwarves get away, chiding her a little for dragging them both out here for nothing. She looks down and gives no reply, and after a moment of staring at her in concern, Legolas clears his throat and tells her that the Orcs he pursued out of Laketown bore the mark of Gundabad, an Orc stronghold up north. Tauriel frowns deeply; she knows that his mother had been killed there.
Shortly after, an Elven messenger comes out of the forest, apparently to assess the damage; he says that everyone in Mirkwood knows about Smaug's death, and that word will travel fast. He tells Legolas and Tauriel that Thranduil is displeased with their disobedience, and that he orders that they return to Mirkwood right away. Tauriel looks down, ashamed, but to her surprise, Legolas shakes his head and says that he will go to Gundabad. Tauriel protests, telling him that he shouldn't disobey a direct order from their King, but Legolas reminds her she did the same thing; Tauriel nods and, after hesitating a moment, says that he will not go alone.
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This is VERY long, so there will be a part 3!
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deathfavor · 1 year
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@kyukicho​ said: “Blood? Are you bleeding?” Baji for Kazutora
concern rp meme starters
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    “  Don’t worry about it, Baji...  “  The words feel heavy on his lips even as he answers cheerfully while staring down at the sink and water red from blood. Kazutora has the distinct impression that he’d just answered the other incorrectly.  (  Well, he had. He hadn’t even answered the question.  )  Baji might not be the brightest out of everyone but he sure as hell wasn’t going to miss that fact.
   Kazutora hadn’t expected to run into Baji. It’d been one of the nights without plans with anyone, and Kazutora had ended up out fighting. Not as Valhalla’s number three, (two, really, considering Hanma was essentially the head), but just as the tiger. Violent and wild, who you could hear by the sound of his bell if he wanted you to. And he wasn’t afraid to take on those bigger and stronger. So he’d fought and fought. He’d fought till his knuckles bled and he knew he’d have nasty bruises the next day, besides his bleeding lip and nose. Not to mention the white shirt he was presently bleeding through. But Baji wasn’t supposed to have caught sight of him, it’s why he’d ducked insider the nearest building for the bathrooms - to wash off the blood and avoid someone he’d spotted in the distance that seemed all too like Baji.
   But the elusive tiger wasn’t elusive enough apparently. Because it’d felt like only a few seconds before Baji had come barging in to the otherwise empty bathrooms and spotted the blood in the sink and Kazutora holding paper towels under his bloody shirt. Kazutora hadn’t yet looked at the injury either, just started using paper towels to try to stop the bleeding, but he was sure there was a gash there from a sharp piece of wire that he’d fallen against in one of the fights. It was nothing but sheer coincidence they’d been in the same area, and the luck was against Kazutora it seemed.
   “  Man, blood’s not that unusual ya know?  Don’t get all so worked up. “  He grins and ignores the pain that making the expression causes from his split lip, ignores the fresh drops of blood that raise to the surface of his lips.  “  You’re out with others, right? Don’t worry. It’s not that bad. I can call Hanma or someone if I start bleeding to death or some shit like that.  “  His free hand waves casually as if to dismiss Baji’s concern. Liar, he’d probably deal with it himself. Fuck. What shitty luck, he didn’t want to worry Baji over this or steal his attention from whatever he was doing. “  We can hang out tomorrow, yeah? Or call me later and we can chat.   “  He pushes the conversation forward to distract from his situation.  “  So don’t worry about me. I’m tough. Whoever you’re with will think it’s weird if you stick around much longer. “  He pushes the laugh past his lips, still playing it cool. At least it didn’t hurt that bad.
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canisalbus · 10 months
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Would you classify Machete as neurodivergent at all? Like in an autistic way? Or is it just the overwhelming ambition, trauma, and anxiety?
I think I've projected so many of my own autistic traits on him over the years, chances are he's at least a little bit on the spectrum.
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ozzgin · 6 months
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Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (II)
Reader is cozying up to her unusual home, and her new friend decides to surprise her with a romantic gift. Or at least what he considers to be romantic: a small reminder that no one else can mess with her. Continuation to the yakuza landlord idea!
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]
Content: Female reader, obsessive behavior, mentions of stalking, violence, death, mild gore
Tags: @depressed-but-make-it-cute
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You search for your keys and open the postal box, retrieving a thick envelope. You've been living at the new apartment for several weeks now and truth be told, you could get used to this lifestyle. Your commute to work is much shorter, the path is never devoid of people, and there are multiple bakeries on the way back with some of the best pastries you've tasted in your life.
You turn around and look for Daitou, somewhat distracted and dreamy. It really feels like a Hallmark movie. A peaceful, idyllic life. Ah, there he is! The scarred man is standing guard before one of the stores. The curtains have been pulled, blocking any glimpse of the inside. You walk towards him with a certain joyful bounce in your step. As you approach him, you can hear muffled screams coming from the building. He notices you and flashes you a smile. 
"Don't come too close, I hear the owner's been avoiding his loan payment and getting all friendly with the neighboring Family. We're questioning him in the back."
"Don't you usually do the interrogations?" 
"Only if we don't need them afterwards. I'm not too good at keeping them alive, ya know?" He scratches the back of his head and laughs awkwardly. "Do you need anything?"
You open your mouth to speak, but it's a little difficult to formulate a full sentence with the interrupted moans and cries occasionally making their way out. The door is ajar and you avoid glancing in its direction, fixating on the man before you. 
"I...uh... just wanted to know if this letter is intended for me or the landlord. It looks like an official document."
You show Daitou the envelope and just as he is about to grab it, he notices the blood stains seeped into his glove. He quickly removes it, wipes his hand on his shirt, and nonchalantly plucks the paper from your fingers.
"That's for Boss. I'll pass it on, so don't worry."
You nod and bow slightly before hurrying back home. Well, doesn't make it less of a movie, you suppose. Just more of a thriller. Or something like that. You drop your bag, slip off your shoes and throw yourself onto the futon with a loud thud. The warmth of the sheets envelops you and the wails of the shop owner become but a distant dream. 
Without the worry of stalkers, or finding a roof above your head, you can finally rest. 
Tonight is rather dark, with the moon shrouded in heavy clouds. Daitou yawns silently as he observes the masked man testing out passcodes for the entrance. Every now and then he lets out a whispered curse, crossing out another number combination on his little crumpled note. It doesn't take a genius to figure out this is the famed stalker you'd complained about earlier. No one else currently lives in the building. 
Eventually, the keypad lights up and the door unlocks. The mysterious man lifts a fist victoriously and reaches for the handle. 
"Oop! Not so fast!" Daitou drops his heavy, sinewy arm over the man's shoulders, pulling him in a friendly embrace. Like two old pals meeting at an intersection. "Let's take a walk together, what do you say? (Y/N) sleeps until noon on weekends, no need to hurry."
With a grunt, the stalker tries to shove himself out of the tightening hold, but the yakuza doesn't budge. He towers over his new friend with an unfaltering, unbothered grin. 
"Now listen, I don't blame you one bit, ya know? I ain't blind, at least not in this eye", he continues as he points to the real counterpart of his glass prosthetic, "so I'm damn well aware of a pretty girl when I see one. And (Y/N)? That's some good taste alright." 
He gives the man an affectionate pat over the chest, pulling him away from the building into one of the side streets. 
"If you want, we can have a drink before the deed, I know a good place five minutes from here. We can share some stories of our favorite girl, eh?" Daitou looks at his watch, feigning mild concern. "But I'm afraid you're not leaving this neighborhood either way. In one piece, that is." 
His arm goes limp and the masked man is released from the iron hold, tripping over from the sudden lack of support. He crawls against a wall and fumbles for something, swiftly pulling out what seems to be a pocket knife. His breathing is erratic and he points the tip of the blade towards the yakuza, now with his features darkened by a frown. He sounds like an entirely different person and the instant switch to a ragged voice startles the stranger.
"See, the trouble is, I promised miss (Y/N) I wouldn't allow a fucking dog like you to be in her presence ever again. Sadly for you, I'm a man of my word." Despite the threatening tone, his posture is relaxed and he stands before the stalker with his hands bare. 
"If I were you, I'd use that little butter knife on my own throat. I don't go easy on horny cockroaches. Especially the ones that mess with my woman." His final words spill out in a bitter growl. 
A small animal in the trashing jaws of a predator. Blood splatters and pools in the asphalt cracks and drained hands claw at the walls, hoping for an escape. As despair sinks in, the alleyway becomes quiet again, save for the merry whistle of the remaining party. Daitou carefully ties the trash bags with the focus of a child wanting to impress the parents with a chore well done. Halfway through he stops and gasps, surprised.
"Oh man, did I really just say 'my woman'? How embarrassing." He blushes and shyly pushes the wrapped slabs away. "I haven't even asked her out yet, ya know? Better not rat me out, Mr. Stalker." He snickers at his monologue and continues the cleanup. 
"Can you really not refrain yourself from smoking in here?" You try to fan away the puff of smoke, scowling at the young blonde man sitting across the table. 
"Why do you even care so much?" Kazuya groans and stuffs the remains of the cigarette in the ashtray.
"I don't want my carrot cake tasting like tobacco. You're lucky the old man is afraid of you, otherwise you would've gotten your ass banned a long time ago."
"You know, I've been thinking about it lately - haven't you gotten quite the attitude? You have a big mouth for someone surrounded by dangerous gangsters. I could blow your brains out right now." 
He lowers himself in his seat and briefly lifts his shirt, flashing a carelessly tucked in gun. He stares at you for a few seconds, as if expecting a reaction, then lets out a chuckle upon seeing your indifferent expression. 
"Shameless. You could at least try to pretend you don't know I have a soft spot for you."
"Just a wild guess, but your Boss probably wouldn't appreciate you shooting civilians in the middle of a café. That's all." You respond with a shrug. 
Your banter is interrupted by Daitou's heavy footsteps nearing in your direction. Kazuya waves, signaling your location, and kicks a chair out, inviting his friend to join. 
"Where the hell were you last night? I thought you'd come with us for drinks after that long ass questioning."
"Sorry, I had to take care of something." Daitou returns an apologetic smile and tilts his head to gaze at you. "Which reminds me, I brought you this."
Your eyes widen in surprise and a faint red tints your cheeks. Was there some special occasion you didn't know about? He places a small box in your hands and leans back in his chair with a cheerful smirk on his face. Kazuya watches the interaction, equally curious as you. 
You open the mysterious gift, giddy with anticipation. The nauseating smell abruptly invades your nostrils and you can feel the contents of your stomach bubble up and pile at the back of your throat. You gag involuntarily and slap your hands over your mouth, as the box tumbles down. A single severed human finger and some teeth glistening with moisture roll out. 
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!"
Kazuya jumps from his seat, toppling over the table in the process, and lunges at Daitou's throat. The latter can only stare in shock, baffled at a reaction he didn't foresee. There's genuine confusion shaping his features.
"But-...I thought..."
"What the hell did you think, that you'd show up with fucking human remains over some tea and cake?! Jesus, Daitou, she ain't our Lieutenant!"
"But I did- I did tell (Y/N) I'd..." he tries to find you with a pleading, worried look. 
Once the risk of vomiting on the floor has diminished, you shove yourself between the men and gently try to remove Kazuya's arm, still clawed around the other man's throat.
"Let him go, Kazuya. He didn't mean to scare me." You glance at Daitou reassuringly. "Does that mean the stalker guy is now a solved matter?"
The yakuza nods energetically, his eyes now sparkling with pride. He knew you'd understand. Once the tension is lifted, you quickly sweep the gory tokens back into their box and explain the situation to Kazuya. He collapses back in his seat with a frustrated sigh, facepalming himself. 
"I'm so sorry, (Y/N), I should've told you he's being serious when he says shit like this." He glares at his friend. "She didn't actually expect you to go ahead and do it, dumbass. Couldn't you just mention it or something? 'Hey, I took care of that pervert following you around'! You think she would've demanded proof?"
Daitou is nervously fidgeting with his glass eye, as if searching for the proper words.
"But you always say women will like you more if you surprise them with gifts." He concludes with a pout.
There's a prolonged moment of silence and you burst our laughing, as the blonde simultaneously lets out an exasperated whine. You cannot get over the bizarre sight in front of you: someone as massive and imposing as Daitou, cornered like a punished school boy. 
"See, this is what I've been telling Boss. You're a lost cause." Kazuya rests his elbows on his knees, closing the distance between him and Daitou and continuing with a lecturing tone. "If you got a crush on someone, you bring them flowers or something! What are you, a crackhead? Do I have to teach you basic manners?"
"More importantly, uh...what should I do with these? I guess jewelry made of teeth is a thing, but the finger? Won't it go bad?" you cautiously dangle the package next to your ears, listening to the rustle of its contents. 
Kazuya rips the box from you.
"I'm starting to suspect you don't have all the tiles on your roof either. I'll get rid of it, so you better pretend nothing ever happened. Are we clear?"
Both you and Daitou nod obediently.
On your way back, the man can't help the excitement building up in his chest. You liked his gift, didn't you? He hasn't done anything wrong. Does that make it official, then? As he ponders the implications, he peeks at your small frame, barely managing to keep up with him. Would it be alright if he reached for your hand? Is he supposed to ask first? All these steps confuse him to no end.
Nonetheless, he couldn't be more thankful for you. 
5K notes · View notes
candy69gurl · 2 months
Note
can you do hybrid! Wolf toji claiming you during his rut?
THE HOWL OF DESIRE
Hybrid! Wolf toji x f!reader
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Warnings- 18+, dark, slight non/con (Toji does not intend to harm you), size kink (both are adults), cave sex, multiple orgasms, nipple biting & play, fingering (Toji has black big nails), raw sex (cumming inside many times), breeding, pussy eating
wc - 2.6k
ART NOT MINE !
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As you traverse through the dense woods, you find yourself getting increasingly disoriented, unsure of which way leads back to civilization. The sun's rays barely penetrating the thick canopy above, casting eerie shadows on the forest floor. You begin to worry, knowing that spending the night here could lead to dangerous consequences.
Suddenly, your senses pick up on the sound of rustling leaves nearby. You freeze, trying to discern whether it is an animal or something more sinister.
A figure emerges from behind a tree, and you gasp involuntarily. It is a creature of height 6'1ft, he appears as a magnificent wolf-human hybrid. He is slender but muscular and athletic, and his wolfish aura makes him look intimidating. As he closes on your position you notice his ears flattened on his head and his tail is pointed upright, his body has chiseled muscles and trademark scars, his green sword-like eyes looking through your soul. His mouth bore fang-like teeth that you swear are more vicious than natural canine teeth of humans.
His eyes lock onto yours, a mixture of hunger and desire burning within their depths.
"Hello, human," he growls softly, his voice tinged with an animalistic quality. "Lost, are we? Well, I don't normally go for humans, but you seem intriguing enough."
As you stand frozen in fear and confusion, Toji takes a step closer, his form shifting slightly, the wolf aspects becoming more pronounced. His eyes gleam with lust, and you can faintly smell his pheromones in the air – a testament to his overwhelming need to mate. "Ah finally," he says, taking another step toward you. "It's just my rut, and I need a mate to breed with. Normally, I wouldn't ask a human, but I cannot wait anymore."
His voice is calm, almost soothing despite the terrifying situation. Your heart races as you contemplate your options, but you realize that running might only agitate him further. Nonetheless your legs unconsciously start to move. There is only one way to get out of this- by running.
"So," he continues, his back facing you but when he turns to you, he sees you running, " What's a prey if they don't try running".
With a grin spreading across his face, Toji starts running after you, muscles rippling as he leaps after you. His movements are fluid and quick, darting through the trees with ease. You feel your adrenaline surge, pushing your speed to its limit as you navigate the unfamiliar terrain. However, he seems to know these woods intimately, and your panic increases as you realize you're unable to shake him off.
"Caught you little bunny" he exclaims, grabbing your neck. Despite his triumphant words, there's a hint of concern in his eyes. He pauses, contemplating his next move. "Running isn't going to solve anything, and believe me, you don't want to get hurt.. Or do you?"
"P-please let me go.. I have to get back home."
Toji weighs your plea, his gaze lingering on you thoughtfully. His need for release is urgent, but he doesn't wish to harm you unnecessarily. "I can let you go, but I'm afraid you won't find your way back alone." His voice holds a note of genuine concern, his eyes softening momentarily.
Then, his expression shifts, the wolfish hunger returning. "But," he adds, "If you agree to stay and help alleviate my… condition, I promise to guide you safely back to where you belong. You won't regret it, trust me." He leans close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, "I'll make sure you enjoy it too."
You stand there, contemplating your options. The thought of being alone in these woods, possibly lost for another night, is daunting. On the other hand, submitting to Toji's demands is equally terrifying, but there's a strange allure to it as well. His promise of safety and pleasure seems almost too good to be true.
As you weigh the pros and cons, Toji watches you intently, his eyes never leaving yours. He can sense your hesitation, and it fuels his desire even more. "I understand if you're scared," he says softly, reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "But I promise, I won't hurt you. I just need someone to share this with, and you seem like the perfect one."
His touch is warm and comforting, despite the situation. You can't help but feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence, as if he truly means what he says. "So, what do you say?" he asks, his voice low and seductive. "Will you help me, and let me help you in return?"
"O-only if you promise to be gentle..", you reply, your voice shaking from his intimidating aura.
Toji's eyes crinkle at the corners, a rare smile gracing his features. "Gentle it is," he assures you, his grip on your cheek gentle but firm. "I can't promise but I will try since you are my first human mate.. Come, let's find a suitable spot. We don't want to draw attention, do we?" His voice is smooth, radiating confidence and control. You hesitate, but there's a sense of safety in his presence that you can't deny.
With a deep breath, you take his hand, allowing him to lead you deeper into the woods. The fear is still there, but it's tempered by a growing curiosity. You're stepping into unknown territory, but for some reason, you don't feel threatened. Instead, there's a strange excitement coursing through you, making your heart beat faster.
As you follow Toji deeper into the woods, you begin to notice subtle changes in the landscape. Brambles part before you, revealing a hidden trail leading to a small clearing. In the center of the clearing lies a cave, half-hidden by the surrounding foliage. This is where Toji leads you, guiding you inside with a gentle push.
The cave is surprisingly cozy, lit by the dim light seeping through the entrance. There's a palpable sense of warmth and security, and you can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. Toji observes your reaction, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"This is my den," he explains, gesturing around. "Now, shall we proceed?" He tilts his head, his eyes holding a mix of anticipation and expectation. You can tell that his rut is still strong, but he's patiently waiting for your lead.
Your nod sends a wave of excitement through Toji, his eyes glinting with eagerness.. He quickly steps closer, nearly ripping your pants and panties off. He hovers over you, his eyes locked on yours as he positions himself between your thighs.
Surprised by his sudden movement, you struggle in his grip, "W-wait you need to loosen me up"
Toji pauses, confusion clouding his features for a brief moment. "Loosen you up?" he repeats, his voice heavy with confusion. Then, understanding dawns on his face, and he chuckles softly. "Tsk, I can wait no more but fine since you beg me so obediently", moving between your legs. He gently parts you with his fingers, feeling your dampness.
"You're already prepared," he murmurs, a note of approval in his voice.
"Ah~", your back arches at his finger movements, your back hitting the ground of the cave.
At your response, Toji's eyes darken with lust. He thrusts his fingers into you roughly. You arch your back,
"Are ya loose yet?" His eyes remain locked on yours, his expression a mix of impatience and excitement.
"n-no not yet.. a-ah", your voice cracks up in pleasure.
Toji's eyes narrow, his brows furrowing in concentration. He inserts a third finger, thrusting harder this time, stretching you wider. You cry out, a mixture of pleasure and pain washing over you as you near your edge.
"Humans are so responsive..." he mutters, his voice thick with desire as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. His eyes never leave yours, the intensity between you and him building, is only heightened by the dim light of the cave.
Finally, after several more thrusts, you reach your orgasm and he withdraws his fingers, a satisfied smirk gracing his lips. "Ready?" He asks, his gaze locked on your face, waiting for your answer.
"mghh.. n-not now.. I need sometime.. I am sensitive right now", you protest.
Toji's eyes squint in annoyance "Shut up, I have been patient enough. I can't wait any longer."
With that, he positions himself between your legs again .With a sudden powerful surge, Toji thrusts into you, his giant cock stretching your poor hole wide. You gasp, your nails digging into the cave floor as you struggle to adjust to the intense sensation.
"Please.. A-ah .. be gentle"
"Shush..I am trying .. You humans are so fragile.. But", he grunts in pleasure, "ya feel so good. I never thought humans feel this good"
Though he is trying to be gentle, but your insides feel so good that he can't help but move relentlessly, his hips pumping in a primal rhythm. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure and pain through you, your body responding to his dominance.
Despite your initial protest, you can't help but moan loudly, writhing beneath him. His roughness sets you ablaze, and you find yourself meeting his thrusts eagerly. His scent, his strength - everything about this experience overwhelms you. Your body cries out for release, and you know you won't last long.
"That's it, take it!" Toji growls, his eyes locked on yours. His primal nature is on full display, and it's intoxicating.
Your toes curl up as Toji's thrusts intensify, his eyes widening at your reaction. "Fuck, you're tight," he groans, his voice thick with lust. "You feel incredible." His pace quickens, his hips slamming into you with brutal efficiency. You cry out, the cave echoing with your sounds of pleasure and pain.
His rut is nearing its peak, his body trembling with suppressed energy. With one last powerful lunge, he buries himself deep within you, filling you with his seed. "Take it all," he rasps, his breath hot against your neck.
In that moment, you surrender to the sensations, your own climax washing over you. Together, you collapse onto the cave floor, feeling spent but incredibly fulfilled. Your legs wrap around him instinctively, holding him close.
As he recovers, Toji nuzzles your neck, his breathing ragged. "I hope I was gentle enough," he murmurs, his voice filled with satisfaction.
"No .. you are so mean..", you reply panting.
Toji laughs, his chest rumbling against your throat. "Mean? Maybe, but effective, wouldn't you agree?" He teases, his grip on you tightening. "Besides, don't lie, you enjoyed it too."
He's right, you did enjoy it - despite the roughness. The intensity of the encounter left you shaken yet exhilarated. He turns you on your stomach "don't think it's over yet.. It's just a starting"
"w-what?", your pupil dilates at the though.
Toji pushes you on your stomach and he enters from behind. You moan, feeling him stretch you once again. With a smirk, he begins to thrust relentlessly, his body slamming against yours. His large hands grip your sides, holding you steady as he takes you from behind.
"We are going to do it whole night" he growls, each word punctuated by his thrusts.
You cry out, your body responding eagerly to his advances. You can't deny the pleasure surging through you. His dominance excites you, the raw intensity of his actions sending you spiraling towards another climax.
"God, you're so good," he praises, his voice thick with lust. "I could spend hours with you, sweet human."
"P-please can't no more", you plead.
Toji stills, pulling his cock out, your body shaking from oversensitiveness. "Already?" then he thrusts into you again. "I know you can handle this."
You cry out, feeling him entering you again.
Time skips, and you and he are still at it, you don't know what time it is, you don't know how many orgasms coursed through you.. The only thing you know is the pleasure you are getting from this.
Toji's eyes shine with lust, his hands firmly grasping your hips as he bounces you on his lap. Your hair falls in disarray around your face, your skin flushed from exertion. Each thrust elicits a soft moan from you, your body responding to his every command.
"Feel good?" he asks, his voice low and sultry. His eyes hold a mixture of satisfaction and hunger, his gaze never leaving your face. You nod, breathless, your nails scratching lightly at his shoulders.
"Good," he growls, increasing his pace. "I knew you'd love this." His hips buck, driving into you harder, faster. You cry out, your body reacting to his every touch.
"p-please play with my nipples too.. mhmm", your face flush with shame as you beg him to pleasure you. Unknowingly removing your hands remove your top and push up your bra, revealing your breasts with stiffening nipples.
Toji's eyes light up at your request, his hands immediately moving to your breasts. He pinches your nipples gently, then harder, eliciting a mix of pleasure and pain from you. You cry out, your body arching in response.
"You like that?" he asks, his voice thick with lust. "Is this what you wanted?"
You nod, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He leans to catch one of your bouncing tits in his mouth, licking and sucking. His fangs brush your nipples, nibbling on them gently
"f-fuck .. dont bite them.. ahhh."
Toji pulls back, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. He looks at you, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. "My apologies," he says, feigning innocence. "It seemed to please you though."
He resumes his thrusts, his movements fierce and unrestrained. His hands pinch and twist your nipples, his tongue lashing over them in turn. Each touch sends waves of pleasure-pain coursing through you, your body responding eagerly.
"I'm close," you whisper, your voice hoarse.
"Not yet," he growls, his eyes darkening. "I'm not done with you."
His words send a fresh wave of arousal coursing through you, pushing you closer to the edge. You cry out, your body writhing beneath him as he plays with your nipples, fucking you relentlessly.
"R-really can't anymore.. please let me .. let me cum", you beg him, tears falling from your cheeks.
Toji's eyes meet your teary eyes, his breath ragged.
"Don't cry little human", he licks your cheek wiping off your tears. "Then cum," he growls, his voice rough with pleasure. "Let go."
With a final, hard thrust, he drives into you, the motion perfectly synchronized with your climax. You cry out, your body shaking as you crest over the edge. He follows suit, his cock pulsing within you as he finds his own release. He growls which sounds more like a howl, as he fills your womb with his thick seed.
Exhausted, you slump against him, your breathing ragged. He holds you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively.
Soon you pass out. Toji catches you easily, his grip firm yet tender. "Awww. I wanted more though," he whispers, his voice softening, "but fine.. I have had enough fun.. I will help ya return tomorrow"
He gazes at your sleeping form, a hint of tenderness in his eyes. Despite his rough exterior, he cares for you. He wraps his big arms around you covering your fragile body, ensuring you stay warm throughout the night.
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You awaken slowly, feeling warm, wet warmth between your legs. Your eyes flutter open, landing on Toji's face, his eyes gleaming with desire as he licks your cunt. The sight is both erotic and overwhelming.
"Morning," he greets, his voice thick with lust. "How are you feeling?"
You swallow hard, your heart racing. "W-what are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" he responds, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Cleaning you up after last night's fun."
You blush, your body reacting to his touch whether you want it to or not. Your eyes squeeze shut as he licks and kisses your most intimate places.
"Mmm, you taste delicious," he murmurs, his voice vibrating against your skin. "Like sweet honey."
"H-hey you said.. you will help me return back home.."
Toji raises his head, his eyes locked on yours. "Go home?" he repeats, surprise clear in his voice. "Oh yes.. But I want to fuck you before I leave you alone for good"
Your skin is already sensitive from his licks and touches, your body ready for more. You bite your lower lip before nodding.
He grins, his eyes filled with lust. "What we waiting for then?" He quickly moves, positioning himself between your legs.
He chuckles as your walls devour his huge girth. "I love how good your taking me.. Fuck.. I'll always find you during my rut, my little bunny."
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3K notes · View notes
lunarmoves · 5 months
Text
"can i have a kiss?"
you abruptly choke on the sip of water you'd been taking, your free hand coming up to cover your mouth as you cough roughly and loudly into your palm. it's enough to make your throat ache, and you barely register a large hand patting you on your back as you do your best to clear your windpipe.
"pardon?" you eventually force out, voice scratchy as you look up at sun through watering eyes. "what did you say?"
sun's head tilts to the side slightly. it's difficult to parse out what he's thinking with those blank eyes of his. "can i have a kiss?" he repeats for you in the same tone and inflection—light and casual like he's simply asking about the weather.
you blink owlishly at him, then glance around the empty daycare. maybe as an excuse to not look at him. everything was cleaned swiftly today, leaving you with some free time before you had to clock out. you just hadn't expected it to be spent like this, however. you clear your throat and look back at sun. his fingers curl and uncurl at his sides, barely noticeable had he not been standing stock still.
"...what's brought this on?" you ask after a short moment of silence. you're stalling, you know, but you're genuinely curious.
his head tilts the other way, a quiet click coming from his face plate. and then—like he hadn't just been standing before you, still as a statue—he jolts back into an amiable sway.
"oh, you know!" he gushes out, clasping his hands together and making the bells attached to his ribbons jingle with the motion. "we just see the way parents kiss their children at the door! and, well, those kids love to play house a lot too, you see. it's difficult not to notice it when it happens all the time! we are simply..." he trails off, as though searching for the right word. "...intrigued."
"right..." you're not quite buying what he's trying to say. hell, your ears are likely still tinged red from the initial embarrassment of his question. "you give kisses to the kids all the time, though," you point out. they aren't kisses so much as they are little taps of his static smile to their boo-boos or foreheads when they ask. you only know they're intended as kisses because sun lets out an exaggerated mwah every time.
sun only looks at you, something tense along the line of his thin shoulders. you wait, in the silence of the too large daycare, as he seems to ruminate upon something. and when he speaks, it makes something curl tightly in the deepest pit of your stomach.
"that's different," he replies quietly. a pin drops in the far distance.
your tongue suddenly feels too thick for your mouth and you swallow before you reply. "how so?" you find yourself asking. you... you don't quite understand. or maybe you don't want to. maybe you're looking for an answer you're not quite prepared to hear yet. maybe you are ready and you just don't realize it yet.
"they're not you." it's said simply—like saying the sky is blue or grass is green. your lips purse together. you refuse to admit how that makes you feel—how it makes something hot flood throughout your body.
"...there are cameras," you say weakly, trying to fight down the flush crawling up your neck and into your cheeks. was this really happening? was he really asking you this? it's just a kiss, you scold yourself. you're overreacting. he's a robot—it's not like it means anything to him. right? "i'm on shift. i could get fired." it doesn't matter if it's a friendly little peck—anything seen like that with a robot on cameras after the daycare has closed will be detrimental to your career.
"don't you worry your silly little head about that!" sun waves a hand in dismissal, his eyes upturned slightly into white crescents. there's a curve to his smile that you're only minutely wary of. "we've taken care of it!" ...whatever that means. you eye one of the cameras positioned near the ceiling of the daycare, the small red light on it frozen. you... aren't going to question that. you internally sigh.
sun's always curious—always pushing boundaries. always seeing how far he can go with you before you take a step back.
it seems like you'd taken too long to respond. sun closes the small distance between the two of you with a single, long stride, standing before you in a way that makes you crane your head up. your personal space is wiped out in an instant. he bends down until his face is mere inches above yours. and then he waits.
"don't be shy!" he tells you brightly, fingers flexing by his sides. one of his rays twitches atomically. "put 'er right here!" his face plate spins slightly as an indicator.
he's really not leaving you much room for choice here. you huff at his persistence, giving him a small roll of your eyes. and with a deep breath to help ground yourself—keep your head clear and look at this all from an objective standpoint (robot, he's a robot, he's curious, it doesn't mean anything)—you eventually raise yourself up on your tippy toes.
a kiss—as small and feathery as a wisp of wind on a cool, fall day—is pressed delicately to the plating of his forehead. the metal is cool under your touch, a contrast against the warmth of your skin. you don't let yourself linger, dropping back down onto your heels as you clear your throat and force yourself to look at him. he's still watching you—with that too large smile and too squinted eyes.
"there you go," you force out as casually as you can. there's something swarming in your gut and you're not sure if it's a good thing or not. "happy?"
sun's rays spin around once, but he doesn't move away. his smile stretches wider—thinner like a blade. and when he speaks, there's a faint depth to his voice that makes you think of the way moon speaks.
"you missed." he bends down closer to you, the shadows of his lithe form casting themselves across your face. he lifts a hand to tap once against the metal of his smile and the sound seems to echo through the daycare. you stare up at him with wide eyes, a cool prickle making its way down your spine. sun's face plate makes another sharp click. "do it again."
you mouth opens, then closes, until you finally muster up the will to let out a little laugh—albeit a slightly shaky one.
"c'mon, dude, i gave you a kiss." you let out another chuckle and find yourself leaning back just a tad. "i should head out now anyways, it's getting lat—"
before you can even finish your sentence, sun's hands dart out to grip you tightly on your upper arms. trapping you within his hold as he draws you closer. you're forced to look up at him, all tense lines and twitching metallic parts.
"you misunderstand, friend." sun grins wider, the gleam of his teeth sharp in the daycare's lighting. you take the smallest step back. "i wasn't asking."
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cupid-styles · 4 months
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late night talking 2
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here is the long awaited part two to late night talking (aka cam girl!yn and nerdrry)!!!! I v much hope you guys like this part as much as you liked the first :)))) enjoy!
read part one here
word count: 7.5k
content warnings: smut (oral - f receiving, fingering, dirty talk, riding, mentions of squirting, size kink, daddy kink, mentions of sex toys and bondage, minor edging)
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masterlist | talk to me
. . .
If Harry were to describe the joy he feels when listening to Y/N discuss her day with him over the phone, he's sure he would never shut up.
At first, he'd been nervous about what they would talk about. Did she expect them to have dirty, filth-filled conversations? What if she charged him for it? Harry would undoubtedly shell out the money, too embarrassed to explain he had different expectations, but it's not what he wanted — not by a long-shot.
Admittedly, the first five or 10 minutes had been rocky. After chatting exclusively through direct messaging on Y/N's cam site, it was a little difficult to get used to transferring those conversations to the phone. She was used to relying on witty jokes with emojis, he was accustomed to having more time to thoughtfully write out responses. Talking one-on-one limited both of those things, ridding them of their comfort blankets. But once the ice melted, names were exchanged, and Y/N's breathy giggle sounded through the receiver, Harry was a goner.
"Wait, so how is it that we live in the same city?" Harry questions as he pulls at a loose thread on one of the throw pillows on his couch. "The odds of that are like... slim to none."
"Well, you'd know, you have a degree in computer science," Y/N replies teasingly. "I'm pretty sure the homepage tries to cater to your location. It's kind of weird and freaky if you think about it for too long."
"That's... kind of horrifying." 
She hums, "I know. But if I hide my feed from the homepage, I'd have to solely rely on my regulars."
Harry doesn't want to be a dick so he doesn't say anything in response, but he wishes she could. He despises the fact that there are local creeps watching her every night, even if that includes him. Quickly, he tries to shove down his possessive nature, knowing he doesn't quite have anything to be jealous of — she's her own person.
"Don't worry, I have a baseball bat by the door." she jokes, but it doesn't land the way she intends. Her mouth twists into a wince when Harry remains silent on the other side.
"Just want you to be safe, hm?" he says gently, "I know you can take care of yourself, but... you know what I mean, don't you?"
"Are you trying to say that you care about me?"
He huffs, a surprised puff of air leaving his lungs. 
"Yes," he finally forces out, anxiety beginning to claw at his insides, "Of course I do."
A beat. The nerves have grown nasty fangs and nails, but then— 
"I care about you, too."
Harry has to squeeze the pillow so a girlish squeak doesn't escape his mouth.
. . .
From: Y/N🎀
my boss made me stay late today so I don't think ill make it home for our 6 pm phone call :( can I call you later?
Harry tries not to pout as his eyes scan over Y/N's text for a second time. Ever since their initial phone call a few weeks ago, they unintentionally set up a daily schedule where they'd chat as soon as she got home from work. Usually, they spoke up until she started her stream, but she took Fridays off since there weren't as many people logging on to watch. All day, he had been looking forward to getting her for a few hours without any interruptions. 
(She often keeps him on the phone as she eats dinner or picks out a lacy set of lingerie. The latter makes him feel special, like he has some sort of behind-the-scenes look of what happens prior to her logging on. It also happens to thicken up his cock a fair amount.)
To: Y/N🎀
I'm sorry he's doing that to you on a Friday. You're right, he's a dick.
Call me whenever you're able. I'll be around.
In an ideal world, maybe Harry could pick them up some dinner and he could meet her at the office, so she could eat while she finished work. Or, he could even take her out to a nice restaurant after — but beyond the very obvious restrictions of their relationship (or maybe it was just a friendship with virtual benefits?), Harry was deeply insecure. They were both lonely people, he knew, and they were simply reaping the benefits until someone better came along for her. 
His phone buzzes, ripping him from his self-deprecating thoughts: thank you<3 you're the sweetest, staying in on a friday just so you can talk to little old me!!! x
A snort leaves him. He can't remember the last time he had actual social plans that involved leaving the house on the weekend. Friday nights were almost always reserved for playing video games with his friends, baking a new recipe he found on Pinterest, or, that one time where he tried to teach himself how to knit a little sweater for Beatrice. 
(It went terribly and Beatrice ended up having more fun with the ball of yarn anyway.)
The thing is, Harry knows he's a nerd. He's pretty much the picture of a dorky, grown-up introvert, with his thick-rimmed glasses, computer engineering job, cat, and pathetically lonely social life. How on earth could Y/N not see that?
(Maybe she does, and she's just taking advantage of him. He doesn't foresee that being a possibility, but his anxious insecurities take him there every now and then.)
He spends his time moseying around his apartment while he waits for her to get home. By the time he's done baking espresso brownies and tidying up the kitchen, making sure to place the tray high enough so Beatrice can't get into them, he hears his phone vibrating on the countertop. A jolt of energy and happiness zips through him when he sees her name splayed across his screen, immediately pressing answer and putting her on speaker.
"Hiiii," she sings into the receiver, and he can already tell she's traipsing around her own home, "You picked up fast."
"Told you I'd be around whenever you wanted to talk."
"You're too good to me," she says, though he has to lower the phone the second he hears noisy crunching on the other line, "Sorry, I literally just got in. I'm eating Cheetos for dinner."
"I thought you were gonna order in from that new stir fry place," Harry replies, thinking back to her mulling over the idea last night.
"I was, but then I had to work until 7 pm, which meant I didn't get home until... what time is it? Oh, it's already 8:15! There goes my entire Friday night!"
He smiles gently at her dramatics, though he understands. "You can still order, babe. They don't close until 10."
"But I just opened this bag of Cheetos."
He resists the urge to roll his eyes. "You can use one of those handy clips to close it so they don't go stale."
"I don't have any of those."
Harry shakes his head as his eyes scan over the small bowl of them on his kitchen countertop. 
"Put the Cheetos down, Y/N. Order the stir fry. You deserve it."
A sigh passes through her lips. "Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure. You had the longest week and you just had to work after hours on a Friday."
"Alright, fine."
He hears the light tapping of her fingers against the phone screen, which only leads him to believe that she's actually doing what he's requested of her for once. He busies himself with cozying up on the couch, throwing a blanket over his lap as Beatrice jumps up onto the cushion next to him. 
"Okay, done," she says a few moments later. "So, speaking of deserving things. I got you something."
"You got me something?" Harry asks with furrowed brows.
"Mhmm. I saw it online and wanted you to have it— well, it's for both of us, actually, but that's besides the fact. Anyway, I need your address so I can send it to you."
Harry's brain begins to glow with possibilities, completely unsure of what she could possibly have gotten him. 
"Is this just an excuse to stalk me?" he jokes, making her snort.
"No, Harry. Send me your address, please. It's a present."
He quickly removes the phone from his ear, pressing the speaker button and opening up their text thread. 
"Fine, I'm sending it to you now," he murmurs, typing out his address, "But it better not be something weird."
Y/N snorts and for a moment, it's quiet. Harry's used to silent lulls in their conversations, especially because they'll sometimes be on the phone together for hours. He occupies himself with gently petting Beatrice's coat, making a mental note to brush her orange fur out after they hang up tonight.
"Harry?"
Y/N's voice rings softly through the receiver. Focused on scratching the top of Beatrice's head, he lets out a distracted hum, assuming she's just making sure he's still there.
"We live 10 minutes from each other." 
It takes him a moment to digest what she's just told him. At first, he thinks it's a joke. There's no way the girl he's been watching every night for the past few months lives so close to him. But when she doesn't follow it up with a "just kidding!", he realizes she may be telling the truth. 
"What?" he finally chokes out, his posture straightening slightly. Could they have run into each other without evening noticing it? Passing by one another on a busy street, Y/N walking home from work while Harry stops at the grocery store? 
"Yeah," she breathes out in disbelief, "You live on Beekman, right? I'm three streets over."
"This is insane," he blurts out. "You're not messing with me?"
"I wouldn't do that."
Harry's unsure if the conversation has taken a turn of shock or tension. There's an obvious question lingering between them, but he's too scared to bring it up. He's too scared to even think about it.
Meeting in person... it seemed like something they'd never get close to doing. Harry was never positive about where their dynamic would lead, but in the back of his head, he did fret about the lack of endgame. He assumed she would get bored of him one day — why wouldn't she, when she's this gorgeous, fun, care-free person, and he's the complete opposite?
"Are you okay?"
Her question rips him from his cycling thoughts. Beatrice climbs into his lap, absorbing the anxiety radiating from his chest. He clears his throat. 
"Yeah. Sorry. I'm just... that's crazy."
"It is," she agrees. "I guess... well, if you're comfortable with it, maybe I could bring you your gift sometime. Instead of mailing it."
Harry and Y/N both know that this discussion is no longer about whatever thing she bought with him in mind. It's a proposal — a leap of faith that she's leaving in Harry's court, allowing him to call the shots. It's a terrifying place to be. 
"Would you want that?" he asks breathily, nibbling on his bottom lip.
"I would," she replies almost instantly. "But only if you want that."
She's making the jump, and she's doing it whether he's ballsy enough or not. If he says no, she'll continue living her life as the happy-go-lucky person she is. It's scary — it's so, so scary for him, because for once, he doesn't know how things will end up. He can't calculate the answer. He can't premeditate or plan it out. 
But maybe she's worth it. So he jumps, too.
"Are you free tomorrow?"
. . .
Y/N thinks she may throw up. 
She's contemplated every excuse to get out of tonight — not because she doesn't want to meet Harry, but because she's never, ever done this before. It's entirely out of her comfort zone, understandably. Was she being insane, meeting up with one of her subscribers? She doesn't think Harry gives off serial killer vibes, and he's more than just someone subscribed to her stream, but was it possible that he would put in months of work, talking to her on the phone every day and listening to her chatter on and on about her day, just to do something awful?
What if he expected... more? From her, not just physically, but as a person, too. They still haven't revealed their faces to one another, so she knows tonight is bound to be a lot. Which brings her back to her previous point: Was there an excuse she could blurt out to cancel?
She thinks about it all day, barely getting any work done. Though she and Harry typically exchange far more texts during the day, the tension and nervousness between them both is apparent. He messaged her good morning and they spoke a bit when she got to work, but neither of them seemed as talkative as usual.
Finally, when it's time to head home, she's somewhat relying on Sam to ask her to stay back and work later — but of course, the one day that she wants him to, he left early, calling an end to his day hours ago. With a grumble, Y/N begins the short trek back to her place.
Last night, when she was apparently much higher on courage, she and Harry had decided that 7 would be a good time to meet up. He offered to go to hers if it made it more comfortable, or even getting dinner or something in public. Y/N appreciated it, but she didn't find it necessary — she wanted to be able to leave at a moment's notice if she needed to, plus, on the bright side, she really wanted to meet his cat, Beatrice. 
When she gets home, she has 30 minutes before she has to be over at his. She decides to change her outfit, nitpicking at her wardrobe and figuring out what's the best way to say, "I've really enjoyed our virtual conversations over the past few months and I have a crush on you, but maybe not because we've never met before. Also, if you could just forget how we *technically* met so we could attempt to have a real shot at a relationship, maybe, that could be cool." 
Sighing, she lays back against her bed. This is crazy, right?
This has to be crazy.
. . .
Harry thinks he may have lost any and all inklings of sanity.
"Beatrice, is this crazy?" he wonders aloud to his snuggly cat. She's currently tucked into her favorite corner of the couch, nuzzling the pink sherpa blanket his mom bought him for Christmas last year. 
He logged off from work an hour early today to give him some time to clean up his apartment, wanting to make sure it was spotless for Y/N. They halfway decided that they'd eat dinner together, but he wasn't sure if she had any dietary preferences or allergies, so he figured getting take-out from the local Chinese place they both like would be the best option. (How awful would that be, if he tried to cook her a romantic meal and instead gave her an allergic reaction? Harry shudders at the mere thought of it.)
He spends far too long standing in front of his closet with a sleepy Beatrice in his arms, trying to figure out the best outfit to wear. Typically, he's in a pair of sweats or athletic shorts at this time, but that felt too casual. 
"What about these?" he asks Beatrice, grabbing a pair of his favorite mustard yellow trousers. "You're right, they're too much. We want to appear cool. Right?"
She simply meows in response.
He hands are shaking when his phone dings, signifying an incoming text from Y/N: on my way!! see you soon :). He lets out a nervous yelp, pulling at his hair as he throws himself into his closet. Based on what she told him last night about living close by, she'll be here in around 10 minutes, so he settles on a cozy sweatshirt and a pair of loose fitting jeans.
That'll be fine, right? 
God, he needs to find someone else to talk to besides himself and his cat.
He's pulling on a pair of his favorite wool socks, haphazardly jogging between the bathroom and his room to finish getting ready. He applies an extra coat of deodorant (just in case!), spritzes on some cologne (his sister got it for him a few years back, she said it seemed like 'his scent', whatever that meant), and runs a hand through his messy curls, trying to make his hair look sort of styled. To this day, he's not really sure how to style it, instead just letting it air dry every time he showers. 
His eye catches the time as he traipses back downstairs. It's 6:58. He wonders if she'll be early or late. What if she doesn't come at all? What if she just decides to stand him up, because... because this is insane. This is insane behavior. 
And then... his phone dings. 
here i think!! sorry im really bad w directions and I walked here lol
. . .
Every single part of her anxious brain is telling Y/N to turn around and go back home. This a terrible idea, she frets, picking at her nails and swallowing tightly, Turn around. Turn around, turn around, turn around—
"Y/N?"
Her head snaps up. In complete honesty, she assumed she was standing in front of the wrong townhouse — she really is bad with directions, so she's slightly shocked when the door in front of her opens, revealing a very attractive man. 
"Harry...?" Y/N asks, testing out the way it feels to call him his name in person. With a slightly bashful facial expression, he nods. 
"Do you— did you want to come in?"
She nods, suddenly feeling how cold the evening is. The later hour brought a chill to the air, one that feels like it has a promise of snow. She hopes she's wrong since she really doesn't want to walk home in freezing temperatures, but thoughts of the weather are ripped from her mind the second Harry politely guides her in.
She toes her boots off at the entryway, gently placing them next to his own pair of Adidas sneakers. She can feel him behind her, only because the front hall is too small for someone to pass by — but if she's being honest, she doesn't think she minds his hovering warmth. All she wants to do is turn around and analyze him. 
She doesn't know what to do — she's being awkward, they both are — so she turns around, not wanting to just welcome herself into his home. 
It turns out, he's far closer than she had originally anticipated. Nearly bumping into his chest, she gasps in surprise, lifting a hand to her heart like she's an actress in a bad scary movie. It makes Harry chuckle breathily, melting the ice ever so slightly.
"You alright?" he asks, "Sorry, it's a bit small in here. It's just me and Beatrice, so I don't need much room."
"Beatrice!" Y/N remembers with wide eyes. "Where is she?"
Harry hums, taking the opportunity to brush past Y/N. She swallows, inhaling his spicy vanilla scent in his wake. It sends an involuntary shiver down her spine as she follows him to the living room. 
"Here she is," he coos, scooping her up from the floor and into his arms. Y/N's heart warms at the sight of a tall, attractive man holding a sweet kitten. "She's been very lethargic all day. Think she likes the winter just 'cos she gets more snuggles out of it."
"'s cute," she mumbles, biting her lip. Her eyes flicker to Harry's face. She seems to be more enamored by his appearance than hers. She wasn't expecting him by any means to fall to his knees and praise her for her beauty, and supposes it makes sense considering he's seen far more of her than she's seen of him. She's somewhat lost in those thoughts when she accidentally blurts the words out, her eyes going wide:
"You're cute."
Harry glances up, his cheeks glowing a pink hue almost immediately. "Sorry?"
Well, can't back down now, she thinks to herself. Swallowing, she forces her mouth to form around the words again. "You're cute," she repeats. "Sorry. That just kind of came out. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, this is just.... y'know, the first time I'm seeing you."
He clears his throat and bites his bottom lip, almost as if he's trying to hide a smile creeping at the edges of his lips. 
"I think you're beautiful," he says softly, and the compliment makes her heart glow in her chest, "I didn't want to mention anything about appearances, 'cos I know maybe you were expecting someone different, but—"
"What do you mean?" she asks with furrowed brows. "I didn't have any expectations."
"Well, that's good. I guess I just wasn't sure if you were anticipating someone... else."
It takes a second for the words to click in her brain. Then, with a wrinkle between her eyebrows, she reaches out to lightly grasp at his elbow, willing his attention to shift from Beatrice to her. 
"Harry, do you not find yourself attractive?"
It's a loaded question for any other first-time-meet-up, but at this point in their relationship, they've divulged a ton of information. She doesn't necessarily feel like much is off limits anymore. 
Harry shrugs, mentally weighing his answer. "I mean, I think I'm just... fine."
"Fine?" Y/N repeats. "I'm not bullshitting you and I'm sorry if this makes you feel weird, but you're one of the most attractive men I've ever met."
He scoffs, allowing Beatrice to jump out of his arms. She leaps down to the floor, as if she's also feeling the intensity of the conversation and wants to be as far away from it as possible. With his hands now free, he sits down on the edge of his blue L-shaped couch, Y/N following suit. She sits across from him, watching as he wrings his hands together in his lap. 
"I feel like that's probably a lie, you—"
"I told you I'm not bullshitting you."
Her response makes him laugh softly. "Yeah, but your whole career is based on, like... being attractive. I mean, look at you — you've definitely met more good looking people than me."
"Do you think I often meet up with people I meet from my streams?" Y/N asks, tilting her head to the side with a mocking smile. He knows she doesn't, because they discussed this multiple times before. "I don't know anyone in real life. Not from there, at least. You're the only one."
Harry shrugs his shoulders. "I guess it's just a little surprising."
"There's nothing to be surprised about," she reassures him gently. In an act of courage, she doesn't think much before her hand lands on his knee, giving it a light squeeze. "I want to be here. With you. I care about you."
A smile curls at the edges of his lips. 
"So," she says, leaning back against the plushy cushions of his couch, "What were you thinking for dinner?"
. . .
Once the awkward tension melts between the two, it's as if they've known each other forever. 
They order food and talk about everything and anything while Friends plays quietly in the background. Secretly, Y/N is over the moon — she never could have imagined things going this well between them. 
It's only when she yawns loudly, feeling exhaustion begin to seep into her bones that she realizes how late it is. When she glances at her phone to check the time, her eyes bulge. 
"Harry! It's 1 am, you should've kicked me out ages ago!" she exclaims, sitting up. With furrowed brows and puffy, sleepy eyes, he turns to look at her. 
"Didn't even realize it was that late," he mumbles, suppressing a yawn of his own. "By the way, I would never kick you out."
She shakes her head with a small smile and rises from the couch. "C'mon, walk me out."
He nods and follows her out of the living room, back down to the hallway where she left her coat and shoes. With his arms crossed over his chest, he leans his hip against the wall, watching as she gets ready to leave. He wishes there was a way he could ask her to stay. 
"Text me when you get home, alright?" he says lowly. Once she fits her boots over her feet, she straightens, nodding her head. 
"I will," she murmurs. She can't help it when her eyes quickly flit down to his lips, a zip of anxiety firing through her chest. She so badly wants to kiss him. And, as if they're both elongating their goodbyes, he clears his throat before toeing his own shoes on.
"I'll walk you to your car." 
"Oh, I walked here," she replies, stuffing her arms into her navy puffer jacket. 
Harry furrows his eyebrows. "You walked?"
"Yeah, of course. We're only, like, 10 minutes away from each other, you know."
"Babe..." Harry sighs, the pet name nearly making her drool, "Didn't you see there's a huge snowstorm slated for tonight? They predicted a few inches by midnight."
Y/N's eyes widen. "Really?"
He laughs lightly before nodding his head. He gingerly wraps his hand around the doorknob to the front door, pulling it open just enough to where Y/N can see massive snowflakes falling from puffy clouds above. It's freezing, a cold chill making her shudder just from the quick peek outside. 
"Fuck." she mutters, pulling her jacket closer to her body. 
"Stay," he blurts out, glancing down at her shorter stature. "I... you can sleep in my bed and I'll sleep down here. I just don't want you going out in that. It's late."
The nerves are apparent in his shaky voice, but nonetheless, Y/N's nodding her head before he even finishes what he's saying. 
"Okay." she breathes. "Can I borrow some pajamas?"
"Yeah, of course."
She follows him up to his bedroom, where he pulls a pair of sweatpants and a vintage tee-shirt out from his dresser. The room is clean, unsurprisingly so — if she's learned anything about Harry tonight, it's that he takes good care of his space, which she considers to be a great trait. His bed is made, his nightstand free from dust and only donning one of those fancy sunrise alarm clocks and a reusable water bottle. 
He hands them to her, "I'll give you some privacy."
She nods with a small smile, murmuring out a thank you. Once he shuts the door behind him, she quickly sheds her own clothing and folds it neatly before pulling on his clothes. A moment or so later, he knocks politely, waiting for her to let him know if it's okay to come in. 
"You're good," she calls out. He twists the doorknob open and stands in the entryway with a spare pillow and blanket tucked beneath his arm.
"I'm gonna change and head downstairs, but let me know if you need anything."
They stand there, looking at one another as if they're waiting for the other to say what's on both of their minds. When the silence remains, he flashes her a tight smile and turns around. 
"Wait!" she exclaims, mentally cringing at the high-pitched tone of her voice. "Will you stay for a bit?"
Harry's shoulders visibly deflate. Once again, he bites his lip, as if he's trying to hide a smile. 
"Yeah. I can stay."
They move silently but it's like they've performed this dance a million times before. She watches as he peels back the blankets on his bed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He turns the light off before smoothing over the cotton sheets, as if he's making sure they're suitable for her to lay in. 
"Lemme just throw some sweats on," he mumbles, striding over to his dresser, "Get comfortable, okay?"
He excuses himself to the bathroom, where he slowly undresses himself and pulls on a cozy pair of sweatpants. He typically sleeps naked or just in a pair of briefs, but he would never even dream of doing anything remotely like that with Y/N in his bed. 
Fuck. Y/N's in his bed.
He swallows tightly and tries to ward off the anxiety bubbling in his chest, taking time to wash his face and brush his teeth. When he's elongated the process enough, he returns to the bedroom to find her laying down and curled up in his blankets. It's almost as if she knew what side Harry typically sleeps on, opting for the one that's always empty.
"Are you comfortable?" Harry asks quietly as he moves through the dark, dumping his clothes from today in the hamper. She hums softly, a pretty sound that makes his length jump in his sweatpants. 
"Your bed is nice." she murmurs. He chuckles and gets in next to her, leaving enough space between them so he doesn't crowd her space. 
"I'm glad you think so. Want you to sleep well tonight."
Despite the exhaustion permeating from both of their bodies, Y/N finds it difficult to get completely comfortable, to the point where she could fall asleep. She can't help the excitement buzzing in her bones from being next to Harry — her fleetwoodlondon tipper. 
"Are you still awake?" she whispers. 
He doesn't answer immediately, which leads her to believe he's already fallen asleep. But then, he shifts onto his side, tucking his hands beneath his cheek to face her. "Mhm. What's wrong?"
She shrugs. "Nothing. Just not sleepy enough yet."
"Do you want me to talk to you about computer engineering? That'll knock you out in seconds."
She giggles, flipping onto her side and mimicking his position. She nibbles on her bottom lip as she assesses his features in the darkness of his bedroom — the slope of his nose, his two slightly overlapped front teeth, the dull sharpness of his cheekbones. 
"No, but you can talk to me about other stuff."
"Hmm," he says, placing his hand down against the mattress between them. Instinctively, she reaches out to intertwine their fingers together. His heart speeds up. "What was that gift you were supposed to give me tonight?"
Her cheeks redden and she's grateful he can't see the nervousness that pops up on her face. 
"It's not important." she rushes out. 
"That's not an answer," he sing-songs, giving her hand a squeeze, "C'mon, tell me."
"It's embarrassing now."
He quirks an eyebrow. "Embarrassing?"
She nods.
"How so?"
"Well... it was more so for when we didn't know we lived close to each other. Before we decided to meet in person."
"Okay...?" 
"I got us Bluetooth sex toys." she blurts out with a warm face. The heat from her shame travels down the length of her body, making her sweat beneath his gaze. "Um, I got a cock ring for you and a vibrator for me. So we could control them for each other. I bough them the day after you, um, told me what to do on my stream. It's stupid now, and I'm sorry if that's crossing a huge boundary since I know we haven't done anything like that in a month, so maybe you've changed your mind—"
"I haven't changed my mind." he cuts her off. "I still watch every one of your streams."
She swallows harshly. "Really?"
"I never miss one," he admits. "And the fact that you thought of me like that and... got us those is... it's really hot, Y/N."
Her core throbs. It's the first time she's heard him talk like this not over text or private messaging. She squeezes her thighs together as she bites on her bottom lip, attempting to slow her breathing to a normal pace. 
"You think so?" she breathes. 
"Yeah."
Even without a single light on in his bedroom, she can feel his intense gaze on her. Unhurriedly, she moves her leg closer to his, wiggling it to fit between his thighs. He welcomes her touch without a word. 
"I really liked when you dominated me that night," she whispers. Perhaps it's a confession that doesn't need to be verbalized — he knows she adored it not only because she asked for it, but because she came in record time, too. Since that evening, he hasn't stopped thinking how he watched her hole clench around her fingers because of him. She moaned his name — or rather, his honorific — over and over again. Every time he's gone to jerk off without watching her stream, it's all he's needed to think about, blurts of cum spraying his stomach not a few minutes later.
"I liked doing it." he murmurs. She begins to move her foot up and down the length of his calf, the feeling of her soft skin making him shiver. 
"What else did you like?"
The tip of his tongue peeks out to lick over his lips. What a loaded question — he likes just about everything she does, but that was a guaranteed cop-out of an answer. 
"I liked hearing you call me daddy," he confesses lowly. "Liked watching you. Thought about you bouncing on my cock and finishing that way."
She hums, closing the distance between them without even realizing it. Their chests are pressed up against each other's, her puffy nipples now stiff peaks beneath the soft fabric of his tee-shirt. He can feel himself thickening up steadily, though he's sure he would've gotten hard just by sleeping next to her. 
"I think I would let you do just about anything you want to me," she admits, nibbling on her bottom lip, "You turn me on so much... I don't even think you realize it."
He huffs in disbelief, snaking an arm around her waist to gently tug her impossibly closer. He gives her hip a small squeeze as a test — he's been thinking about throwing her around like a doll for months on end, but her comfort is his top priority, always. 
"What does 'anything' entail?" he asks. He knows he's asking for trouble now, that there's no returning from this. There's no way that this night won't end with him balls deep inside of her, thrusting his cum into her pussy until she's squealing and pushing him away from overstimulation.
"Well, for starters, you can take me however you want," she says, trailing soft fingertips down his chest. She stops at his abs and he breathes in sharply, willing her to continue her journey downwards. "From behind, me on top... wherever and whenever you want. Don't care if we're in public, either. I'd love to show you off and make sure everyone knows I cum for you."
He groans, head tilting back slightly from her possessive words. "More," he demands gruffly.
"Want you to use all my toys on me... tie me up, press a vibrator to my clit until I can't see straight anymore," her fingers meet his hips, lightly feeling over his cock underneath his sweatpants. "Have you watched the shows where I squirt?"
"Of course I have, pretty baby."
Her chest warms at the nickname. As if it's a reward, her hand dips beneath his sweatpants, gasping in mock surprise when she finds that he's not wearing underwear. Better yet, he's hard and aching for her.
"I have no doubt that I'd squirt for you." 
She punctuates her sentence by wrapping her hand around the base of his cock, giving it a cursory squeeze. A short, low groan sounds from his chest before he's grabbing her arm and giving her a sharp look. Alarmed, she quickly removes her hand. 
"I'm sorry. Was that too much? Did I misunderstand?"
"Not at all," he mutters, getting up onto his knees. His other hand finds her free wrist, raising both of her arms above her head. She gasps out in surprise. "I just think it's cute that you think after watching you get off for months, you think I wouldn't want first dibs on this pussy."
Y/N giggles, relief flushing through her chest at the knowledge that she didn't do anything wrong. Keeping her arms propped up with one of his large hands, he uses the other to tug her sweatpants down. Just like him, she's decided to go underwear-free this evening.
"You're glistening already. Dripping down to your cute little ass." 
His words make her swallow harshly. She knew from that one conversation that he was an expert at dirty talk, but hearing it in person was an entirely different game. One that she surely would never forget.
He uses two of his fingertips to spread her labia, breathing out fiercely at the sight of the strings of arousal. With his fingers in a v-shape, he watches as the pretty ribbons snap each time he moves his digits up and down, issuing a light massage to the skin between her lips and thighs. 
"You're so much prettier in person." he murmurs. "I've watched you cum so many times, but... nothing compares to the real thing. You know that, pretty baby?"
A pathetic whimper falls from her swollen lips. "Stop teasing, daddy."
His heart thuds at the name. It's a weak spot, especially hearing it come from her. Watching her hole pulsate around nothing, he decides he wants — no, needs — nothing more than to lean forward and wrap his lips around her pearled clit. Her taste is heady and delicious and he's instantly hooked, especially when she curls her leg around his shoulder, pressing her heel into his back to pull him closer. She moans loudly as he sucks messily, his eyes rolling back when he feels the swollen bundle throb in his mouth.
"So good," she whines, "'s so good daddy, fuck."
He can tell that she needs minimal prep, but his suspicion is only proven right when he pushes a finger inside, her hole immediately sucking him in. He prods at her g-spot, eliciting another mewl from her pretty mouth. He thinks he could cum just from this — from sucking at her clit and fingering her deep inside, feeling her thrash around beneath him as her orgasm builds. 
"Fuck— wait, wait," she pants out. Harry instantly stops, removing his hands and mouth from her. He looks up with concerned eyes and she smiles a hazy, gentle grin, pushing her hand through his messy hair. "Can you edge me? I wanna cum on your cock, daddy."
He thinks he may faint on the spot. 
"Whatever you want, pretty." 
She laughs breezily when he surges forward once more, nudging the tip of his tongue into her wet hole. She gasps as he thrusts it in and out, lifting his free hand to rub circles into her sensitive clit. The sensation of her pussy clenching around the width of his tongue is almost too much to handle for both of them. 
He waits for her to tell him when she's almost at the edge, but it doesn't take much more. Soon enough, she's panting and pushing him away, whimpering out that she's nearly there. 
"Can I ride you, please?" she nearly begs, her eyes widened and watery, "Please, need to feel you deep inside."
He chuckles at her desperation, sitting up on his heels to thumb at her bottom lip. He pulls it and lets snap back. 
"Only if you give me a kiss, baby."
She scrambles onto her knees, billowing forward to press her lips messily to his. It's wet and hot, especially with the heady taste of her arousal on his tongue. He groans when she begins to suck at it, overwhelmed by her enthusiasm as he gives her hip a squeeze. When he breaks their kiss, he presses a quick one to her nose before maneuvering her body so she's straddling his waist. She rolls her hips urgently, his cock spreading her labia deliciously. It's a gorgeous sight — one Harry never wants to forget.
"Put me in." he instructs, folding his hands behind his head. 
With shaky hands, she lifts up slightly, granting herself just enough room so she can lower onto his length. The second the tip pops through her tight walls, they're both moaning loudly, her eyes fluttering shut. Harry forces his to stay open so he can memorize the way she looks taking him for the first time. 
"Take your time," he murmurs, breaking his dominant persona for a moment, "Don't force yourself, pretty baby. Give yourself a second."
"I can take it," she pouts, grinding down against his pelvic bone. She whimpers, her hand flying to her stomach. "Fuck— fuck, I can feel you in here, daddy."
"Told you, silly girl," he says with a smirk, his hands finding her hips with a squeeze. "Take your time. Don't need you getting hurt."
This time, she listens to him and allows herself a few moments to adjust. Once it doesn't feel like he's punching through to her cervix, she bounces once in experimentation, just to make sure she can really, truly take it. 
"Why didn't you ever mention— oh— that you're fucking massive?" she whimpers out as she begins to bounce up and down. He laughs, though it quickly gets cut short when he begins to properly feel the tightness of her pussy.
"Guess it never came up." he mutters through gritted teeth. 
His hands remaining on her hips, he helps her maintain her rhythm. He swallows harshly as he watches her breasts jiggle in time with her dropping up and down, never once allowing his cock to shift. 
"'m gonna cum soon," she babbles out. As if on cue, Harry feels her hole pulsating around his length, making his eyes roll back.
"Show me," he demands, steadying her hips with his hands. He starts to thrust up into her, watching as her jaw falls slack from the slight but sudden switch in position. "There you go, baby. Take daddy's cock like you were made for it. Cum all over me."
He never doubted it, but god she's good at taking directions. Within a few seconds, she's clenching and coming all over his cock, whiney mewls falling from her lips as her orgasm washes over her. She moans out his honorific repeatedly, just like she did all those months ago. The sight and sound of her sopping wet pussy sucking in his length is enough to send him to his own peak, abs clenching as he fucks up into her, filling her to the brim with his warm come. 
"Fuck, take it pretty girl, there you go," he groans loudly.
When each of their orgasms eventually taper off, the only thing that fills the room is the sound of their haphazard breathing. Gently, she lifts off, her hands pressing down against his chest. She feels his mess slowly seeping out of her. 
"'m sorry," he runs his hand through his hair, realizing that he finished in her without discussing it. "I should've asked—"
"No, it's fine. I'm on birth control. I wouldn't have wanted you to finish anywhere else." she admits bashfully, her cheeks rosy in a post-orgasm flush. "It's just... uncomfortable once it's over."
"Of course. Let me grab a towel to clean you up."
She nods graciously as she gradually flips onto her back. Harry returns a moment later, wiping his length clean before nestling between her thighs to wash the evidence of their sex away.
"Thank you," Y/N mumbles sleepily. "No one's ever done this for me before."
Harry scoffs. If he wasn't so exhausted, he would have pressed for more details, insisting that this wasn't something worth thanking him for. Instead, he simply tosses the towel in the hamper and gets back underneath the blankets. 
"Can we cuddle?" she asks quietly, lifting her head to look at him. He smiles, extending his arm so she can nestle into his side. 
"C'mere, pretty."
. . .
The next morning, Harry wakes up with Y/N tucked into his chest. They're still naked, but the warmth of her soft body feels incredible. So much so, that he wonders if he's stuck in some sort of dream. 
He realizes it's not when she begins to stir in his arms. When she bats her eyelashes open, her eyes puffy with sleep, she smiles gently. 
"Morning." 
Harry matches her smile. In a leap of faith, he leans down to press a kiss to her lips. Even after last night's events, he's unsure if this is appropriate. He's not sure if it was supposed to be a one night stand type of situation, but considering she didn't get up in the middle of the night and leave, he entertains the idea that it may be a bit more than that.
"Good morning," he returns, watching as her face glows from his brief kiss. "What time do you have to be at work?"
She groans and it immediately makes him feel guilty. She leans up onto her elbows, the edge of the comforter hiding the peeks of her nipples as she glances at the time. It's already 8:10. 
"I'm supposed to be there at 9," she replies, laying back down against the pillows. It looks like the wheels are churning in her head as she mindlessly fits her fingers between his.
"What are you thinking about?" he murmurs lowly, pressing a kiss to her temple.
"Calling in sick," she admits. "Is it ridiculous that I don't want to leave?"
He chuckles, though a wave of relief washes over him. He had been thinking the same — he wanted to make her breakfast and have him in his bed all day, lean over and pepper kisses all over her face and watch as she wrinkles her nose in that cute way she does. 
"Not ridiculous. We've spent months talking to each other, think we deserve some time together," he says, "In fact... if you call out, I'll do it, too."
"Really?" she asks with raised eyebrows.
"Sure. I have weeks of paid time that I've never used."
She grins and nods her head, "Okay. Yeah, that sounds good. Could we hang out all day? Maybe watch some movies and snuggle with Beatrice?"
"That sounds perfect, pretty girl." he replies, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. He sits up and grabs his clothes from the floor, pulling his sweatpants on before he heads down to his home office. 
"Wait!" she grabs his arm, pulling gently. He quirks an eyebrow and looks at her expectedly. "Could we... do you think we can maybe use those toys I bought us?"
The warm flush that flowers over her cheeks makes his heart squeeze in his chest. 
"Anything you want, baby," he murmurs with a small smile, "Anything you want."
2K notes · View notes
another-lost-mc · 5 months
Note
Okay but what if, before MC is taken to the future by nightbringer, they had a big fight with the brothers?
Like, they fought about something and said something along the lines 'go away' ' I don't want to see you', but then, when you don't return they start feeling guilty.
At first they'll think you're angry and don't want to talk with them, but when time passes and you don't return they start to get so worried, looking everywhere for you, regretting that the, possibly, last words they said to you were harsh confrontation.
The angst potential 😭😭 how do you think each of the bros would react?
😈🍬 anon
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a/n: well, nightbringer sure is a blessing for angst fans.
the worst goodbye | the demon brothers
2.8k words | gn!reader | sfw | angst
cw: mentions of lesson 16 in belphie's part.
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Lucifer goes to his office and pretends that he's not angry. He attempts to distract himself with paperwork, but all he does is read the same paragraph a few times over and over again before he throws the page down with a huff. He taps his pen against his desk while he sifts through the emotions clouding his mind. All he felt earlier was wounded pride—that's why he scolded you with more force than necessary, speaking with his cruel, barbed tongue but regretting it just as quickly. He admires and loathes your feisty temper. You're his stubborn, brave little human that stands up to him when most demons wouldn't dare to try.
He plans his apology like a mantra and goes to your room; he knows if he's sincere, you'll give him a chance to make things right. You don't answer your door when he knocks, and he peeks his head inside to confirm that you're not there. He sends you a message with his D.D.D. and shuffles awkwardly in the hallway while he waits for a reply. He asks in the family group chat, but no one's seen you recently and he ignores the initial tendrils of icy fear that make his chest feel tight. Surely you wouldn't have stormed off in a sulk? But he checks the rest of the house and his brothers realize slowly that something is wrong—you wouldn't just leave. Lucifer searches for you himself, around the House of Lamentation and all around the Devildom, searching for anyone that might've seen you, or any hint of where you've gone. But in the early twilight hours, he pours a glass of Demonus that remains untouched while he stares absently into the fire of his private study. His heart freezes over in your absence. Your warmth thawed his icy demeanor, and the roaring fire crackling nearby can't stop the chills that wrack through him when he tells himself that you're gone and he has no one to blame but himself.
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You rarely fight with Mammon these days, but when you do, it spirals out of control. He spits out scathing remarks about how he's sick of you trying to pry your nose into his business because he hates admitting that you're right. You try so desperately not to yell (or cry, or both) when you plead with him to forget about whatever risky scheme he's got planned. It's not worth risking Lucifer's wrath and whatever punishment lies in store when Mammon's plan inevitably fails to his own detriment. He stalks away and ignores the sound of your voice cracking in pain when you call his name one last time—and maybe if he were less incensed, he would stop and turn around and apologize. But today he feels particularly stubborn and he doesn't look back. He fully intends on leaping in his car and driving off into the night to burn off some steam, but he slumps against his bedroom door with his head in his hands and tries to remember why he was so angry with you to begin with. He can't pinpoint the reason and he knows you only have his best intentions at heart.
It feels like hours later when he ends up outside your door, head down and tail tucked firmly between his legs. He shouts through the wood when you don't answer and he swears he didn't mean it, that he'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. You're too patient and kind and loving for your own good, and he tempts fate every time he takes your forgiveness for granted. He opens the door and scratches his head in confusion when he realizes you're not there. He spots one of his brothers at the end of the hall, and his confusion sours into something ashy on his tongue when he asks him where you are. I haven't seen them—we all thought they were with you!
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Leviathan plays his game, tapping the buttons on his handheld with more force than necessary, as simmering anger from your fight earlier darkens his mood. He didn't mean to forget about your lunch date, so why did you get so mad? Maybe calling you a worse nag than Lucifer was over the top, but he planned on making it up to you later! He gets lost in his thoughts and plays his game until he realizes it's been a couple hours and his D.D.D. has been surprisingly silent. Sometimes you message him and invite him to talk things out in your room once you've both had time to calm down. He has no idea what it means that you've ignored him all this time and when he tries to message you first, they go unanswered. He shuffles to your room guiltily and hopes you'll be willing to talk face-to-face. It's almost dinner time, and maybe if you're feeling up to it, he can take you out for dinner. He even canceled his raid tonight so he can spend the evening curled with you on the sofa watching movies instead.
He doesn't expect to hear a commotion as he walks down the stairs to the first floor, and his brothers are crowded outside your room in various states of panic. Lucifer sees him and rushes to explain what's going on, but the words turn to radio static in Levi's head. He doesn't even notice that he drops his D.D.D. and it clatters to the ground, cracking the corner of the plastic case you gave him as a present not too long ago. Instead of cuddling with you on the sofa that night, he curls around his body pillow in the tub, his tail twitching noisily against the porcelain while he buries his head and deafens his whimpers in the tear-stained cotton. Come back, come back, please come back—
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When the rage subsides, Satan glances wearily around his room and the terrible mess he's made. Some of his favourite books are ripped and torn to shreds across the floor, but the sight hurts less than the memory of your heartbroken face crumpling in pain as you fought back tears. He's done many terrible things in his life he's not proud of, but insinuating you don't care about him might be the lowest blow he could use during a fight. You've only wanted what's best for him, and you try so hard to show the world that he's more than the violent, angry creature that lurks deep inside him.
If only the world could see you the way I do.
Regret quickens his steps and he leaves the broken chaos in his room to find you because he shouldn't have even let you go. Why did it take him so long to apologize? He doesn't deserve it, but if you'll only give him a chance, he swears to himself he'll make it up to you. He hastily wipes away the tears pooling in the corner of his eyes when he notices his brothers lingering outside your room. They're too distraught to notice the sharp bite in his words when he demands to know what's going on and where you are. Nothing they say makes any sense—you wouldn't just leave, right? He’s the first to tear through the house in a panic to find you, ignoring his brothers’ nervous pleas for him to calm down. You're nowhere to be found and eventually he returns to his room in a trance. No one knows how long he stands there, trembling with regret and shame and fury that someone or something dared take you away from him. All his brothers know, judging by the noise echoing through the halls, is that his room is nearly destroyed as he unleashed his heartbreak in a maelstrom of destructive rage.
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Asmodeus takes another selfie and posts it on Devilgram. He hopes the notification will pop up on your D.D.D. and you'll see him having the time of his life at The Fall. He wants you to see it—he hopes it fills you with regret for arguing with him earlier. He doesn't fight with you often, but your tongues are both sharp and laced with venom when you do face off against each other. He enjoyed the anxious gleam in your eye when he backed you into a wall and leaned down so you were nearly nose-to-nose, the sweet scent of his lip gloss lingering in the gap between you while he cooed about how pathetic you looked. But that was almost an hour ago, and he can only pretend for so long that he doesn't regret leaving you stunned and hurt in the front hall when he waltzed out the door and slammed it behind him. The pounding music can't drown out the wicked things he said to you, and the crowd can't distract him from your absence that weighs heavily in his heart. There are many demons nearby who'd kill for his attention, but he knows deep down that the only hands he wants roaming over his body are yours.
It's not long after that he pushes his way out of the club and into the cool night air, but he still hasn't heard from you. Surely you've seen his Devilgram posts by now? You're smart enough to recognize his desperate ploys for attention. Your attention. Are you ignoring him on purpose? Maybe he deserves it, but he's anxious to talk to you and sends you a message on his walk home anyway. Message could not be delivered. The red text pops up on his screen, and he frowns and tries again. Message could not be delivered. He quickens his pace as he taps your contact name and calls you instead. Is there something wrong with your D.D.D.? "The number you have dialed is not in service."
He breaks into a run until the House of Lamentation peeks into view ahead. He bursts through the door and ignores Lucifer's angry shouts behind him as he rushes down the hall to your room, but all he sees is one of your favourite club outfits laid out on your bed, as if you were getting ready to come see him after all. Where are you? His brothers hover behind him and he borrows one of their phones so he can try calling you again. He tells himself that it must be a problem with his D.D.D. because no other explanation makes sense. "The number you have dialed is—" Asmo whimpers pitifully while he listens to the robotic voice drone on speaker for everyone to hear, and his brothers finally realize that something is wrong and split up to search for you. He chokes out your name and slumps onto your bed, inhaling your familiar scent when he holds your shirt, one that he bought you, to his face and sobs. He can hear his brothers' heavy footfalls throughout the house while they look for you, but deep down, he already knows you're gone.
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Beel glances at the stands and wipes sweat and dirt from his brow. He can spot his brothers easily enough—it's hard to miss them, with the way Asmo's waving the glittery handmade sign with his name in bold pink lettering—but he doesn't see you. There's an empty space between Mammon and Levi where you normally sit, and they've kept it free for when—if—you show up. You've never missed one of his games, not ever. Maybe the argument earlier upset you more than he realized. He knows you don't normally eat his food on purpose. He knows you meant it when you sputtered apologies when you realized your mistake. He knows how hurt you were when he shouted at you in a hungry rage. The rest of the game passes by in a blur. He moves on autopilot, his mood growing more and more despondent each time he checks the crowd and realizes you're still not there. He barely recognizes his team's happy cheers when the game ends in victory. He has a quick shower and makes his excuses to his teammates because he already has plans for dinner tonight, with you, hopefully. He stops by Hell's Kitchen and picks up your favourite takeaway order and heads home. It's a peace offering, one of many apologies he owes you.
By the time he knocks on your door, he's eager to see you. Silence. He knocks again and waits, and he hesitantly pushes the door open when his greeting goes unanswered. You're not in your room, and after a quick search of the house, he realizes you're not anywhere. He visits your room over and over again as if you'll finally pop out and tell him you were just teasing him, because you wouldn't ever leave him on purpose, right? His name on a handmade sign on your bed, and one of his old jerseys he gave you, are all that you left behind and he wonders if he would've been able to stop you leaving had he come home to you sooner. (Your takeaway dinner remains uneaten in the fridge in case you come back, and Beel refuses to eat it himself or let anyone else eat it either. One of his brothers has to throw it away when it eventually turns rancid—Beel can't bring himself to do it, because it means admitting you may never come back.)
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Belphie doesn't like sleeping alone. Most nights if he sleeps alone, it's by choice—his choice. Tonight should've ended like most nights do: with the both of you sharing the bed in the attic. He sleeps better when you're close. You're a warm weight curled against him, and the smell of your shampoo and your minty breath are small comforts when he has bad dreams. Sometimes he wakes up in a panic, his shirt damp with cold sweat, and he listens for your quiet snores, proof that you're alive, that the nightmare of your windpipe crushed in his deadly grip isn't real. Belphie sleeps in the attic alone tonight because you decided you needed space. It's petty revenge for earlier when he woke up from a nap in a foul mood and snapped at you in his frustration. He fluffs his pillow and his bottom lip juts out in a pout. He can't get comfortable and it's your fault. The house grows quiet as his brothers retire to their rooms and fall asleep, and Belphie senses when you finally drift off to sleep too. If he wakes up before you tomorrow, he'll crawl into your bed and hope that you'll be more receptive to his apology when you wake up.
It takes longer than usual but he finally falls asleep and feels content. Even when he's unconscious, he instinctively reaches for your presence and it calms him. Your dreamscape is like a little pond, and he watches from his own nearby shore as your thoughts pass by in a blur, like slick oil paintings skimming over a watery surface. He doesn't like to intrude on your dreams if he can help it—he only interferes when he senses them slipping into nightmares instead. He tells himself it's not selfish to erase them for you, but the truth is that he's not sure he can stomach seeing his own face reflected in your dreams anymore, not with its wicked sneer and bloodstained teeth. He's not sure he forgives himself for what he did to you, and he wonders if you've truly forgiven him too.
Something odd in your dreamscape shifts suddenly and it catches Belphie's attention. The images in your subconscious grow murky and twisted, like they're being sucked down into some unseen void. Your presence is like sand falling through his fingertips, and it's harder and harder for him to feel you. He reaches out to your mind to wake you up because he doesn't know what's wrong, but something about this scares him. He jolts awake in the attic, chest heaving with the final memory of something snapping in his mind, like the cord that tethered you to him was suddenly cut. Eventually his brothers get up too and he can hear the commotion coming from down the stairs. He makes his way to your room in a trance before they can come find him. He already knows what his brothers are struggling to understand, the truth that no one can explain. You're gone somewhere far away, impossibly out of his reach, and he dreads falling asleep and feeling the void your absence left behind.
Sleep evades him until he forces himself to try and rest, and he finds himself in your bed instead of his own. He curls himself around your pillow underneath your sheets, clinging to the last whiffs of your scent, and he hopes you'll wake him up and tell him this was nothing but a bad dream. (Your scent fades away long before the nightmare ends, and he stops sleeping in your room after that.)
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read more: obey me masterlist
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doobea · 6 months
Text
✰⋆⁺★ GOOGLE IT ─ CHOSO KAMO
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synopsis: choso finally goes on a date with you but he's an absolute nervous wreck.
contents: choso being silly and inexperienced, gn!reader, somehow he thinks his brothers get more partners, half!brother sukuna makes an appearance, sfw/very fluffy, things to do and not to do on date, no curse AU word count: 2.4K a/n: of course i gotta release a choso fic before any of my milestones duh
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"Uh, Choso? What are you doing?" Yuuji's voice calls from behind and it startles Choso, quite badly.
Choso's hands fly up in a messy attempt to cover his laptop screen, only to realize that he could've shut it instead. So he does that, loud and with too much force than originally intended, causing the cup of tea next to him to rattle and spill.
The liquid drips down to his newly purchased dress pants for the very topic he was just looking at, but he ignores it and tries to pretend that it didn't burn his skin and that he isn't mildly disappointed that he might've ruined an expensive pair.
"Nothing," Choso tries to level out his voice but his face always betrays him.
The moment Yuuji eyes his outfit, then darting to the number of colognes sprawled across his desk, and down to the neatly tucked dress shoes underneath his seat, Choso begins to falter.
"Nothing, huh," Choso doesn't stop Yuuji when he pushes his chair aside and opens his laptop. A stifle laugh and then a rather loud 'aww' emits from his brother and Choso feels like his life has flashed before his eyes. "Could've sworn you were reading an article that was like," and he, unfortunately, reads the title out loud. "85 First Date Ideas You’ll Actually Find Fun."
He snatches the laptop away from his brother before he could start listing all 85 and, this time, clenches it to his sides. Almost too embarrassed to admit, Choso mumbles out, "It's for research..."
"He's got a date tomorrow," Sukuna pipes in lazily from the bedroom entrance, frame leading against the doorway. "Saw him looking at WikiHow for kissing tips the other—"
"Sukuna," Choso slides further down in his seat. "You said you wouldn't bring it up."
The older male looks up briefly from his phone and scoffs. "Yeah, I said I wasn't gonna talk about it with you. I'm talking to Yuuji right now."
Choso should've known better to expect Sukuna of all people to keep a promise.
He rubs the bridge of his nose in exasperation and sighs heavily. "Okay, yeah, I have a date and I don't know what to do." Choso confesses.
The fact that it's actually happening is a miracle to him. Just last week, he'd finally gathered the courage and asked you out after dancing around the topic for months. And when you agreed, he felt like doing a somersault, but maybe that would've been too much. He's going on a date with you. You and him. Dating? Yeah, dating.
As much as he's excited for it, Choso can't help but to feel anxious and jittery because, well, he's never been on a date. Hence, if anyone would to compare his search history to that of a teenage boy, no one would be able tell the difference.
The number one date idea that's listed on that ridiculous article is rock climbing. Freaking rock climbing on a first date? Is that what people do nowadays?
Another 'aww' comes from Yuuji. "You guys do look cute together!" He gushes. "Have you decided where you're going to take them?"
Choso sighs again and places his laptop back on the desk, and away from the spilled tea, he's still gotta worry about his outfit situation later. "I haven't."
Yuuji throws out a long 'dude' while Sukuna laughs at his dismay.
"I know, I know," Choso opens his laptop again and stares at the many tabs he has opened.
So much research and yet he's feeling nothing but overwhelmed and underprepared. What if you actually find him creepy and weird? Did you only agree because you felt pity for him? Ugh, the last thing he would want is to make you feel uncomfortable.
"Hey," Sukuna appears by his side and throws a firm hand on his shoulder. "Stop bitchin' around and let me help."
"Help?" Yuuji takes the words out of Choso's mouth as they both stared at Sukuna with wide eyes. Normally, 'help' isn't in his vocabulary, at least when it comes to him offering it.
Sukuna cocks a brow. "Don't want it? Fine. Don't come crawling to me when it doesn't work out."
Choso weighs his options. He'll either spend the rest of his afternoon reading up dozens of lamely curated articles written by self proclaimed 'internet love doctors' or he could listen to his older half brother that has quite the reputation of breaking people's hearts. The answer is obvious, but maybe Choso could actually hear out some real life advice rather than listening to random strangers online.
He groans inwardly and accepts Sukuna's offer.
In the end, Choso ends up taking you to an amusement park. While rock climbing would've been 'too' active for a first date, Sukuna proposed an amusement park because it'll offer tons of ride options, the environment will keep everyone busy so there wouldn't be a lull moment, and it'll be great for, um, physical intimacy. Whatever he meant by that. Choso was too afraid to ask for clarification.
"You guys can be like the shitty Disney couples waiting in line," Sukuna commented.
"Yeah, yeah," Yuuji agreed. "You can say 'I'll never leave you, my love. It's us against the world.'"
Is that what they take him as? Choso doesn't know if that was meant to be a compliment or an insult. But, the fact that both of them were nodding at him approvingly before he left, he can only assume they have faith and confidence ... so that's something?
He arrives at the meeting spot maybe thirty minutes early and was about to text you when he sees you there already waiting, sitting on one of the benches and watching something on your phone. Oh no.
"Oh, hey!" You call out to him when you peer up.
"Hey," Choso lamely waves as he walks over. "How long have you been waiting? Did... Did I get the time wrong?"
"What? No, no!" You shake your head, aggressively. "I just... wanted to come a bit early, too. Don't sweat it, I literally got here five minutes ago!"
"Okay..." Still, he can’t help but feel a little guilty. And here he was trying to make a good impression by showing up early.
"Let’s go?" You smile at him and god, did that always take his breath away.
He texts the family group chat as soon as you both board the bus.
[Yuuji's Favorite Brother] I feel like my heart is about to burst.
[SUCKuna] Lol.
[YUU YUU] You got this!! 💪🏻💪🏻
"What 'cha looking at over there?" Your voice rings into his ear and he almost jumps out of his seat, nearly dropping the phone. "Woah, careful."
"Just checking the weather," Choso immediately regrets his answer and cringes.
You don't push the subject further and instead refocus your attention when the park comes into view. "Looks like they added new rides, Cho. Where do you wanna head first?"
"Actually, I was thinking maybe the food court? You haven't eaten yet, right?"
You laugh. "If I barf later then it's not my fault."
"Haha, yeah." His phone buzzes with a notification. A message from Sukuna this time.
[SUCKuna] Dead yet?
[Yuuji's Favorite Brother] Surprisingly alive.
[SUCKuna] 👍🏻
It takes a while to get to the food court, and Choso believes that the crowd has grown bigger as the two of you started to bump into one another frequently. He considers taking your hand into his but hesitates. Is that too much to ask? Do you mind? And suddenly, he forgets everything that he's read in the last week.
Choso decides to text Sukuna for his thoughts.
[Yuuji's Favorite Brother] When should I hold their hand? Is there a waiting period? Should I ask?
[SUCKuna] Just do it.
[Yuuji's Favorite Brother] Are you sure???
[SUCKuna] Lmao yeah.
Well, that's not helpful at all.
Choso eventually chickens out and walks behind you, making sure that no one bumps into you, and tries his best to listen while you list down all the rides you want to go on, the scamming logistics of cursed carnival games, and the insane prices for fair food. Most of your ranting flies out of his ear because he can't stop thinking about holding your hands. The only piece of information he remembers hearing is something about the prices of food here are the same as the ones in a movie theater.
Still, that didn't stop you from grabbing yourself a corn dog, some french fries, and a lemonade. You two manage to find an open table outside right by the ferris wheel.
"Okay, I take it back," You say after biting into your food. "These are pretty good."
[Yuuji's Favorite Brother] How hard is it to make corndogs?
[SUCKuna] Do I fucking look like a Google search engine?
[Yuuji's Favorite Brother] Sorry.
"Still checking the weather?" You pipe up from beside him, and Choso exists out the messaging app before you could see what he was doing.
"Um, yeah, I guess."
"Hm," you hum in thought for a moment before continuing. "Where do you wanna go after this?"
"Anywhere you want," Choso admits.
He hasn't been back to an amusement park in ages. The last time that he was here he vaguely recalls going on a rollercoaster ride with Yuuji, and that was after he downed a whole burger meal. Anyone could've imagined that it ended rather horribly. But Choso didn't care if you were going to throw up on him, though, he's praying that you wouldn't. He just wants you to enjoy the day, enjoy spending time together, and he's fine with you taking the lead.
Your eyes light up as you stare at the ride behind. "Then..."
Choso smiles. "Yeah?"
"Can we go on the ferris wheel?" You finish.
"Anything for you."
Turns out that Sukuna might be a hidden romantic. He wasn't wrong to suggest an amusement park as a first date and Choso can see why both of his brothers would see him as the 'Disney Couple' type. Although the ferris wheel was your idea, he can't help but to think that, if he had the confidence, he would probably be cuddling and sneaking kisses with you right now. Hell, if it weren't for the fact that he's currently suspended 100 feet in the air, he'd probably ask to hold your hands. Maybe.
"You have to put some moves on them," he remembers Sukuna say to him before he left the house.
And exactly how is he supposed to do that? He gets his phone out to text him, to ask for some more advice when—
"Hey, Choso..." Your voice rings by his ears again. You sound unsure. This catches his attention.
"Is there something wrong?" Did he do something wrong? Why do you look upset?
"Are you… having fun?"
"Huh?" The question catches him off guard. Did you think he wasn’t having fun? "Of course I am."
You take a deep breath and begin toying with the hem of your shirt. "It's just... you've been on your phone all evening. I'm sorry if this is boring—that I'm boring—"
"W-What?" Choso panics. "You’re not, I'm—"
He doesn’t notice sending the message to Sukuna, but he does in the end.
[Yuuji's Favorite Brother] Sukuna, how do you kiss someone again?
You excuse yourself before Choso can explain further. You reach to grab your phone, saying something about your parents or friends sending something important. Then Choso watches as your eyes stretch wide like flying saucers.
"Oh."
"W-What happened?" Did he do something again to make you uncomfortable? God, this has to be one of the worst dates you've been on.
"I—um," Choso feels all the color drain from his face when you flip your screen around. He accidentally sent that text to you out of all people. "Uh, last time I checked, my name isn't Sukuna."
Oh god.
This is it. This is how he dies.
"Y-You're not wrong..." How is he going to explain that?
You snort a tiny laugh. "So… you’ve been texting Sukuna this whole time?"
"...Yes?" Choso slumps his shoulders and brings a hand up to cover his burning face. "I-I'm sorry, I was just really nervous and I wanted to make sure that I wasn't messing things up. I really like you and didn't mean to make you feel—"
"Choso." You laugh quietly, and he thanks god because it seems like all of the misery that was on his face earlier had disappeared. "It’s fine, it’s okay!"
"But I—" Choso bites his lip. "I'm sorry again that I made you feel like that. I'm an awful date."
"You’re not." You try reassuring him. Then, a brief pause. "Well, maybe a little bit." You motion with your fingers.
He can't argue with that.
"Um, I guess—" You smile sheepishly at him before placing your hand on top of his, squeezing gently. "I guess you have to make up to me!"
Choso feels a blush creeping up on his cheeks again.
"You’re not the only one who’s nervous, you know. I’ve texting Nobara and Megumi nonstop over the past few days about what I should wear and—god, you don't even know how long I spent in front of the mirror this morning—"
"Me too!" Choso catches himself when he sees you flinch. "I mean—I’ve been… I’ve been reading up on what to do on a date and what not to do on a date and where to go on a date and...? I’m such an idiot." He looks down at both of your hands, which were still linked together. The sun is just about to set, the ferris wheel cart is swaying gently in the wind, and the lights around the park are slowly turning on.
"Don’t apologize." You chuckle softly. "I'm just glad to know I wasn’t boring you."
"You weren’t! I—I really enjoyed today." He really did, despite feeling like his body was going to combust at any given time. "Please, let me make it up to you."
You smile again, leaning against him. "Sure thing."
"So, uh… you want get out of here?"
"Mhm." You grin and Choso thinks about what he did right to be able to see that smile directed at him. "Oh, and Cho?"
"Yeah?" You're still holding hands by the time the ride comes back down to the ground level. "What is it?"
"I really like you, too."
Choso is pretty sure his body might explode soon, but he'll have to be sure to send Sukuna his thanks before then.
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wonryllis · 5 months
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ENHYPEN AS KINDS OF LOVE.
────𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝖺𝖿𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇.
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𓋜 enha as love in the form of words ㅤ. .ㅤ𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑡ㅤㅤ𓍼ㅤㅤ𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑛 & fluff ࣪  ㅤ˖ ㅤ𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖑ㅤㅤ৲ lowercase intended ㅤ. ⠀𓈃 ๋ ㅤ𝐍𝐄𝐖 峠
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( yeonie.notes ) please show lots of love, 1592wc. fem!centered. FEEDBACKS & REBLOGS WOULD BE REALLY APPRECIATED.
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꒰⠀hee⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀seung.⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🖇️ 𝄒⠀⠀ ﹙𝑣𝑖𝑒.﹚ as 'i know baby, you don't have to say anything' kind of love. the guy who can read even your silence. heeseung looks at you more than anything in his world, he knows you more than you know yourself. he remembers everything about you from the brand of your conditioner to the friends you don't talk to. if there's anyone who can see right through you even in the worst of times, it's him. your comfort in a bustling town. to him love lies in the little details, in understanding what can not be understood, in the language of the eyes.
"heeseung i really-" you squeal walking into the shop as he holds the door open, "want a strawberry and cream frappuccino? i know baby," his words form a smile on your face, one that lights up your eyes, one that heeseung mirrors his heart all giddy and warm. "then i'll be at-" looking around the interior you turn back to him, "the table by the window, i know baby," giggling at how well he knows what you like, you press a tiny kiss on his cheeks,"i'll be waiting!" i'll be waiting he mouths at the same time as you walk further away, grinning idiotically before the cashier snaps him back.
꒰⠀jong⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀seong.⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🖇️ 𝄒⠀⠀ ﹙𝑣𝑖𝑒.﹚ as 'dont worry, i will take care of it for you' kind of love. the guy who doesn't let you lift a finger. to him you're the princess that doesnt have to do anything. your every wish and your every desire is a goal for him to accomplish. the beaming happiness on your face when you get what you want is the source of his joy. the feeling of coming home yet discovering new places you never knew of: places filled with more sunny days. your warmth in a cold winter. to him love lies in the willingness to give endlessly, in being connected by actions, in prioritizing you.
"jay, it broke!" before your whine can even bounce off the walls jay is there right behind you, "don't worry princess, i'll fix it, come here sit on my lap," his hands move delicately as he sews the broken butterfly pin holding your blouse together. "you need to be gentle while putting it on okay?" he reminds you softly as his thumb wipes off the tears threatening to spill from your eyes at having almost ruined your favourite outfit. "can we have some ice cream cake later?" you ask closing your eyes at the feeling of his lips leaving a kiss on top of each one, "you have a cold so only a little bit, alright?"
꒰⠀jae⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀yun.⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🖇️ 𝄒⠀⠀ ﹙𝑣𝑖𝑒.﹚ as 'i gotta kiss you before you leave' kind of love. the guy who gotta show how much he loves you. your companion in every event from family dinners to office parties sim jaeyun is the man of your life and man of your dreams. if ever you need to go alone, he waits for you, roaming around the area and picking up your favourite food. for him it is absolutely necessary to express his feelings regardless of your surroundings and regardless of the situation. your star in an empty sky. to him love lies in the small moments, in the little kisses and hugs, in the whispers of words.
"jake what are you doing!" the more you try to wiggle out of jake's arms the tighter they get, "don't you think you're forgetting something, my love?" your repeated slaps against his hands are in no vain with the way his lips find the crook of your neck leaving fluttering kisses down to your collarbone. "my goodnight kiss when will i get it?" more than the words spoken you gasp at the way he stops whispering, "we are supposed to be sleeping in different rooms! stop it before my parents find us!" "well it's nothing they don't know, i love their daughter too much."
꒰⠀sung⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀hoon.⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🖇️ 𝄒⠀⠀ ﹙𝑣𝑖𝑒.﹚ as 'stay there, i'm coming to get you' kind of love. the guy who is always a call away. be it in the middle of the day or at the break of dawn, if you need him, he's always there. needs to see you safe and healthy to able to breathe in peace. if it so happens that you are hurt, he turns the hospital upside down. it's you and him against the world, let's you know that he'll be the one to stay even if everyone else leaves. your pillar in a pile of debris. to him love lies in being by your side in every situation, in changing your restless into calm, in the compromise and accomodation for another.
"sunghoon? i feel weird," your words slur into the phone and sunghoon immediately knows something's wrong. "angel, what's wrong? i'll be there in five, don't move from the bed okay?" there inside your apartment unit he finds an empty bottle of medicine containing ethanol. "my prey is here!" squealing, you hop off the bed and scurry over to sunghoon, "angel you shouldn't consume drugs so carelessly," he scolds, picking you up when you jump on him. giving in to your puckered lips he leaves a wet kiss before pushing a finger against your forehead. "now lets sleep off the intoxication,"
꒰⠀sun⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀woo.⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🖇️ 𝄒⠀⠀ ﹙𝑣𝑖𝑒.﹚ as 'i believe in you, you can do it' kind of love. the guy who inspires you to be the best version of yourself. in his world there is no giving up and there is no going back. teaches you to take a step even when it feels like nothing is going right. helps you focus on the present, nurturing a mind guided by reason and heart. it is important to him that you do what you love and you do it with courage. your strength in a harsh society. to him love lies in the encouragement, in the pushes out of comfort zone, in a cheer amidst a silent crowd.
"sunoo, what if i fail?" your hands tremble as you wait backstage in the conference hall, scared to mess up your first paper presentation. sunoo pulls you into a hug that feels homely, softer than ever, "trust yourself bubs, i know you'll do well. you wanted to do this since forever and you worked so hard for this, remember?" his fingers draw circles on your back and his lips leave a tender kiss on your temple. "even if it's not how you want it to be what matters is you tried. now go on, i'll be waiting." a gentle push, a reminder that he'll be right here to catch you.
꒰⠀jung⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀won.⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🖇️ 𝄒⠀⠀ ﹙𝑣𝑖𝑒.﹚ as 'baby, how can i make you feel better?' kind of love. the guy who tells you, you're perfect the way you are. with him you never have to put a mask on, you don't have to pretend to be someone you're not. late night conversations where he reminds you how much you're worth it even if you're ordinary. because to him you'll always be the most special person: his person seen and appreciated in your own essence. your peace in a chaotic world. to him love lies in the fruit of assurance, in the acceptance of affection, in the positivity to feel life in the simple things.
"jungwon, it's snowing!" the excitement is your voice makes jungwon laugh as he runs out after you with your muffler, coat and socks in his hands. "you need to cover up bunny or you'll catch a cold," the pads of his thumb rub against your cheeks, face craddled between his palms after he has you all wrapped up. "sorry," you giggle cozying up in his hold, it makes jungwon's heart summersault a thousand times,"you look so cute, bare faced and warm cheeks all flushed," the thought of how you have let your walls down around him makes him happy beyond anything,"so perfect,"
꒰⠀ri⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀ki.⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🖇️ 𝄒⠀⠀ ﹙𝑣𝑖𝑒.﹚ as 'i miss you' before you even say bye kind of love. the guy who can not live away from you for too long. shows you there's magic in everyday that goes by with you, in the sunrise from the balcony of your shared apartment, in the little garden you tend to together. the arrow of cupid struck through two at once: where all your moments hold stories to tell. the proof that time together is time cherished. your glitter in a dull canvas. to him love lies in the sync of hearts, in enjoying and mourning life side by side, in not missing a single moment.
"riki what are you doing here?" you're dumbfounded coming eye to eye with riki at the doorstep of your childhood home "i couldn't go another day without you," he says stepping forward to cup your face in his hands and rubbing the tip of your noses in an eskimo kiss. "let's just spend the weekend here and go back together," his forehead falls against yours eyes closed as he wishpers out how bad your absence felt. "ok, let's do that i missed you too," at that riki leaves a quick peck on your lips grinning widely, "let's make some new memories,"
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TAGLIST ( open. )
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tqmies · 9 months
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Nct Dream + "Just the tip"
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How Nct Dream would react to you saying you just the tip!
Minors DNI
If there's someone who is going to try his best to listen, it's MARK. Poor guy will subject himself to the torture if that's all you're willing to give today. He won't complain either <3 The soft slow grunts of him fucking his tip in and out of you tell you he's satisfied. Funny enough, you end up regretting your decision.
"Are you sure?!" He'd ask, afraid to go any farther, but who is he to say no to you? Next thing you know, he's halfway in already.
RENJUN pretends he's fine on the outside, and really he wants to respect that you're tired and not wanting take all of him. But you make it so hard! Your soft walls suck him in as soon as he enters, and he's trying his best to pretend he's sorry about it.
"Mm-mph. I'm sorry, you j-just felt so good around me. 'M gonna fuck you the right way baby."
I imagine you and JENO just had an argument, so you decide to tease him and intend to withhold full access. You really thought he'd listen though? By the end of this, you're going to the the one begging to fully take him (And he'll let you) before he uses you as his little cumdump.
"Stupid slut, thought you could tell me what to do? Maybe I need to fuck the attitude out of you and remind you who this pussy belongs to."
You're weak to HAECHAN and his whimpering. He knows it too, so he'll loudly wince at the contact of just his sensitive head in your folds. He barely gets a tiny thrust in before he's babbling about how badly he wants to be all the way inside you.
"Please," He whines. "N-need it so bad, promise to be a good boy for you. I'll make you feel so good baby, just let me go deeper."
JAEMIN doesn't understand, why would you only want the tip? Was something wrong? Did you want to talk about your day? Were you tired? Did you just want to sleep? When he finds out you're just messing with him? Oh.. you got another thing coming.
"Take it," His balls slap against you. "Take all of it. Had me worried that my girl didn't feel well and it was just some joke? You're going to pay for that."
He really couldn't care less, but this does get in the way of CHENLE's initial plan on having you ride him. So he's gonna be a tease right back, rubbing his tip on your clit as you beg for him to at least put it inside a little. Let's just say you took every inch of him that night.
"Knew you couldn't resist me, even if you tried. At the end of the day, you're just my cock hungry whore, aren't you?
Well, JISUNG actually succeeded, much to your displeasure. You usually like to feel him all the way in your stomach, how could he think you really only wanted the tip? So you have to pull him for a round two, and luckily he doesn't hold back this time.
"You actually scared me," He admits as he thrusts into you. "I thought maybe you just didn't want to have sex anymore, or you weren't attracted to me- shit you feel so good-"
Note: Please reassure Jisung, or else he'll be thinking about how much you hate him at the end of it.
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groguspicklejar · 3 months
Text
part 10 of medieval ghoap x reader
warnings: suggestive, lots of touching, angst with a capital A.
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dearest niece... i grow more worried each day that you don't respond. it has been well over a fortnight since i've last heard from you. are you well?
that is all it says.
you don't want to assume things. you don't want to accuse anyone of a crime they didn't commit.
but your blood runs cold and your throat tightens painfully the more you read the letter over and over again.
it's hard to breathe. it's hard to breathe. it's hard to breathe—
you sit back down on Yolanda's bed. your ears are ringing. someone's voice calls out. it's her, Yolanda, but her words are muffled. you can't understand her.
she sat next to you, holding your hand. "i thought you said you asked Ghost to send the letters for you."
i'll send it for you.
because i want to.
you handed the letter to him. because you trusted that it would reach your aunt's hands. you trusted Simon to deliver the letter to her. you trusted him.
your stomach dropped. "i... i did."
it's not uncommon for worried family members to send letters to someone close by. everyone at the harem does it all the time when Victoria decides to enforce her iron will and withhold letters and funds.
Yolanda knows this as well as you do. she tries not to let her pessimism show, tries to make light of the situation. "perhaps he forgot?"
your eyes don't leave the letter. your aunts words. a fortnight. "yes... perhaps..."
though that was highly unlikely. Ghost hardly ever forgets anything. nothing gets past him, not even his own memory.
but he gave you his word. surely there must've been some sort of mistake.
surely, right?
right?
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"anything interesting happen today?" Johnny kisses your shoulder as he pulls you onto his lap.
it has been well over a fortnight—
are you well?
it's a mistake. Peter's carriage had broken down not too long ago. bandits, they said. perhaps they got to Gregory's carriage as well. yes, that has to be it.
or perhaps Gregory had been delayed. needed to secure his carriage and arrange for security to make sure he's not looted. it's the only logical explanation.
certainly more logical than Simon purposefully keeping your letters. why would he? you're just a saddle. at the end of the day, as much as he and Johnny say that they want you, you're no one important. you have nothing.
soon, they'll grow bored and they'll discard you like the rest. and then you'll be free to leave while they entertain themselves with some other saddle.
there's no point in lying to you. no point in keeping you.
"not particularly." you reply. "not to me anyway."
"oh?" Johnny lifts his mouth from your skin, eyes curious.
you don't look up from your book. the one he stole from Laswell's library. the one he begged you to take care of whilst you read it because Laswell will kill him if any of her books were to be damaged or go missing on his watch.
you truly don't know how to feel about him risking his neck for you like this.
some of her other books are on his bookshelf and he intends to bring them back where they belong as soon as he and Simon done with them. hell, Simon had even advised you not to touch them for the time being because they can't risk anything happening to them.
understandable. one book is enough.
"lord Graves sent Yolanda a gift."
"did he?" he asks. "what was it?"
"a ruby necklace." you tell him, settling comfortably on his lap. "it's beautiful, truly. it could probably fetch a pretty penny on the market. but she doesn't even like rubies. she prefers emeralds, though. they bring out her eyes."
the king is quiet for a moment. you read the words on the page, invested in the story until he asks, "why did he send her a gift?"
"i don't know." it is the truth. you're still worried about that. the lack of knowledge on the young lord's intentions with your dear friend. "which is odd, because i never thought him the type to be generous."
"do ye think he's courting her?"
you sighed and closed the book, contemplating. "highly doubtful. no man in his right mind courts a saddle."
Johnny hums softly, teeth nipping your skin as he pulls at the fabric of your collarbone to kiss you more. hands gently squeeze your breasts and you try not to let that distract you from your reading time. you don't know how much longer you have until reading won't be possible, but you don't mind.
"and what would you prefer?" he murmurs, hand tilting your gaze away from the book. you meet the curious twinkle in his blue eyes and smile.
"why do you ask?"
"so i can court you."
your eyes widen for a brief moment before you burst into airy giggles, your heart filling with joy at his absurd notion. you don't know how he's so effortlessly amusing with his words sometimes.
asking you to stay is one thing. you can understand that. they like you and want you to be near them, so they can protect you and dote on you. and fuck you at their earliest convenience, yes, that too.
but courtship? no.
courtship leads to an engagement and then marriage. and you're not meant for those things. you're a saddle. no one wants a saddle for a wife. or a queen.
that, alone, is a funny thought. why it even crosses his mind to even entertain it is beyond you.
"you're a funny man, your majesty." you kiss him and go right back to reading.
you don't catch the frown on his lips.
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you don't mention a letter. not for a few days.
something in you screamed not to because you've seen this before. this tactic from Madam Victoria. withholding information, letters, and even funds sent by or to family members. you've seen it all too many times.
you don't want to believe Ghost would do the same. you don't even want to think about the reasons as to why he would do such a thing.
"lovie." Simon's voice draws you out of your thoughts. you blink rapidly, trying to focus on the worry in his brown eyes. "something bothering you?"
he cares about you. he does. they both do. they've shown it. proven it on more than one occasion. lying to you would prove otherwise. and they haven't lied to you. not about their intentions, even as much as you didn't believe them at first.
even as much as Johnny would jest about officially courting you because it was just that. a jest.
so Simon wouldn't do such a thing. he and Johnny wouldn't lie to you...
would they?
you feign a bright smile. "no."
he doesn't believe you. you move closer to reach him, lifting his mask just enough and pressing your mouth on his. "just thinking about some things, Si."
they can get another saddle. you're not worth any of the lies and deceit. you're easily disposable. why would they go to such extremes to keep you here?
he accepts another kiss from you. and another. when you think he's had enough, you stand back with your arms loop around his neck and he gives you an odd look.
"what?" you ask, adoring the way his eyes crinkle. he's so handsome, even if you cannot see all of his face.
"i like that." he tells you, arms tightening around your waist. "when you call me Si."
the observation makes your cheeks warm. you feel a bit silly now and press your forehead against his chest, hiding a coy smile. "Johnny calls you that all the time."
his hand falls at your nape. "yes, and i like it all the same."
he wouldn't lie to you.
you don't believe that he would.
this warmth in your chest, it has to be worth something. they have no reason to lie. this is all a misunderstanding. it has to be.
it has to be.
but why can't you even believe in that? why is every fibre in you telling you to pull away, to run? that has to just be the years of Madam Victoria's iron fist pulling your hair back and telling you to get back in line.
all you want is to be happy. to breathe easy in the confines of four walls. to not have to worry about your next meal. to feel safe in the arms of Johnny and Si.
why can't you have that? why can't you feel safe?
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your eyes trail to Johnny's desk again. mostly under the guise of staring at its owner, who's occupied with reading and signing important documents. but more so in contemplation.
you can't rest easy. not without knowing. if Simon hasn't sent your letters, they have to be somewhere around here. if not, then they're exactly where they're supposed to be; en route to your aunt's estate, only to be delayed. if so, then Simon didn't lie and he and Johnny are innocent of any deception that your conscience suspects of them.
but for you to prove yourself wrong then-
fuck. you have to look through Johnny's desk.
you don't want to entertain the thought. searching the king's papers, his personal belongings without given consent. that alone is enough to get you beheaded.
you rapidly blink and shift your gaze back to Si.
his eyes are closed. light whisps of blond lashes framing his eyes, flickering open when you shift on his lap. your legs were on either side of him. you map the outline of his covered face with a finger, giggling when he scrunches his nose. you trace his cheeks over the fabric, all the way up to his forehead and down his crooked nose, which you've come to adore.
you have questions about the mask. how he came about to wearing it. when he started wearing it. these inquiries are lodged in your throat as your eyes curiously wander, as your fingers mark and learn every curve, every shape. trying to memorise and take with you for when you're alone.
"go on, love." his chest rumbles under your breasts. "ask."
your nails scrape his head under his mask. you're surprised he even allows it, surprised that he allows you to let your hands get this close. after all, he is known to cut off a head or two for wandering hands and loose tongues. you consider this to be a privilege. not quite well earned, but a privilege.
you dare to ask, "why do you wear it?"
"to hide my face."
not the answer your expected, but it punches a light laugh out of you.
"why?" you tilt your head, your hands lowering to feel the curve of his ears. "you don't seem ugly."
"oh?" an eyebrow raises as his head tips back to look at your smile. "you think so?"
you don't reply to him. instead, your gaze shifts to the king. "Johnny. is he ugly?"
"quite the opposite, bonnie."
the amusement in his voice, even if his eyes don't meet yours, still fixed on the papers on his desk, flits over your heart. Simon's hands veer from your thighs to your hips, pulling you closer, pulling your attention away with the faint call of your name.
you don't know if there is something on his mind or if it is you that makes him look at you like you hung the stars.
"do you want to see what's underneath?"
the words clang through you. like the sound of a church bell. the echo of a wave. the fall of thunderous rain and thunder. but it's quiet. a mere whisper, a flicker in the dark. the promise of a flame. the promise of something you've yearned for.
no one ever sees what's underneath. no one but Johnny. and Laswell, you think. you don't know if Lord Price and one other bastard prince from the far lands also fall into that list, but you know that the number of people who can be trusted to see his face can be counted on one hand.
your muted shock worries him. and you're quick to mask it with a cheery grin, trying not to let him know that you might as well slip and fall down the side of an icy mountain with what he'd just inquired.
"well, i am curious." you quipped lightly. the brief silence that follows your voice freezes your veins, so you seek to thaw that ice as soon as possible with a frightened addition, "but if you don't want to-"
he catches your hands as you remove them from under his mask, eyes glimmering with amusement. he brings your palms to his cheeks.
"i do." he says. "go on."
you don't move an inch. you don't attempt to lift the mask. it's feels too invasive. he's been incredibly adamant about keeping it on at all times in your presence. hell, he's killed people for trying to take it off. you know. you've heard the stories. from other people, from Simon himself.
you can't.
the bed dips and it startles you. Johnny's blue eyes calm you when you glance at him. he quietly urges you with a simple nod and you look back to Simon. your heart thunders in your ears as he loosens his fingers and allows you hands to move.
you hook your thumbs under the mask and slowly lift. the scar at his mouth is the first thing you see. he's not smiling. you lift higher and see his crooked nose and another small scar slanted there.
his eyes close as you breathe and finally take off his mask. they flutter and open as you put it aside. your wide eyes flicker all over his blond hair curling over his forehead, hiding yet another scar etching into his hairline. your gaze slowly slopes down his face, taking it in, memorising every inch of pale skin, every line, every perfect imperfection.
he's just as perfect as Johnny. not in the same way, not in the same boyish charm and bright light in those blue eyes. but perfect in every sense of the word. light hair, crooked in some places, dark eyes. darker than death, but somehow warm and welcoming. nothing like his better half, who is dark-haired and soft and has eyes as bright as the blue skies.
where Johnny ends is where Simon begins. two pieces of a single heart, beating as a whole, as it should be.
but it's almost starting how handsome Simon is. it doesn't surprise you, of course, you expected it. knew it deep in your heart. felt it in your bones. it's just that you never expected to see it. you thought that truth will only exist in your mind and it wouldn't be realized in the realm of the living.
"he wasn't lying." is all you could muster as your fingers trace his cheeks. the words slowly come to you in the dead silence and you find your fear slipping and melting away into the dark. you find yourself smiling again. "now i see why you keep this pretty face hidden. you'd have the entire harem bowing at your feet, Si."
both men burst into laughter and you're stunned by Simon's smile before they shower you in kisses for the rest of the night.
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they haven't been asleep for very long. though it was difficult to get out from between their arms, you waited until you were sure that they won't wake if you move too much to slide right off the bed.
something in you had begged you to put the voices to rest. to prove them wrong. the king and the knight mean you no harm. they only want what's best for you. what's so hard to comprehend about that?
your gaze shifts every so often to the bed, trying to make sure that they are truly asleep. and they are. you are safe... for now. if you're careful, you get to keep your head.
quietly, you move the documents. making sure to put them back as you found them when you didn't find what you were looking for. contracts are shifted and placed back. orders of shipments, treaties, and letters from high lords. nothing that you want. nothing that is yours. it all stays where it is.
because there was nothing to look for. you were being paranoid. you feel guilty for doubting them after all they've said and done to make sure that you are safe and well cared for.
you were just about to put everything back into place when your hand knocked a stack of books from the table. you cringed and closed your eyes at the noise they make when they clatter to the floor.
eyes glance at Johnny and Simon. there's only slight movement, but neither awaken. a sigh of relief leaves you before you pick up the books and a few papers that had been stuck between the pages.
you were just about to put them back but...
you saw your aunt's name on the folded paper. in your handwriting.
it stills your bones. seeing the ink. seeing the mark of your voice etched on paper. your eyes glance at the two men before you put the books back on the table with a racing heart and open the piece of paper.
your letter...
a shallow breath escapes you. this was written weeks ago. the letter you gave to Si...
you reach for the other papers. they didn't belong to you or Marie. but this was proof enough. proof that they're hidden.
there's a lump in your throat as you look to the bookshelf. if they were hidden in one book, there has to be more here. and you can guess which books.
you start with Johnny's favourites. nothing. fine. Simon's favourites, then yours. still nothing.
then-
your eyes land on the spine of one book. Laswell's book. not the one Johnny had borrowed for you. no, it was one of the books that had already been on his shelf.
don't touch these. Laswell will kill all three of us if anything happened to them, Simon's voice echoes back to you.
your fingers pull it from the line and flick through the pages. there is nothing between the pages. you check the second one, the one on the bottom row. then the one next to it. and then-
another letter falls. then you find another and another until you collect quite a few of them.
your aunt's letter- no. letters. including the ones you wrote to her.
Simon kept them. they didn't send them they kept your letters from you.
they kept them hidden precisely where you wouldn't find them. your eyes widen as a horrifying realization settles over you like a dark cloud.
stay a little longer, bonnie.
the words on the paper stare back at you. your aunt pleading for a response, asking if you're alright, if you're in good health.
i'd take care of it.
her words express loneliness. her sons have all gotten married. none of them want the estate. they want to give her a bit of peace, her own place to conduct her affairs, but she wants a friendly face. someone she can trust by her side.
just one more day.
tears drop on the paper and smudge the ink. she wants you to come home. she worries for you. worries for your safety. she does not care what you are. she just wants you to be safe, to be with her where you belong.
home.
forever.
the truth splinters something delicate in you. then it shatters into pieces that are as many as there are stars in the sky. leaving you with tenuous breaths and shaky hands. your vision blurs the more you read the letters over and over again, trying to make sense of what you were seeing.
they lied to you. they lied.
you were never supposed to go anywhere. you were always going to be their whore. trapped here, in this caste, in their bed. forever chained at their feet and used for their pleasure. it wouldn't have mattered how much you meant to them or how much you tried to seduce the king.
they never intended to let you go.
"love?"
you spin around, eyes wide and terrified at the sound of Simon's voice. his face bare and open. his gaze flickering at the paper in your hands.
the quiet horror bleeding into his eyes breaks your resolve.
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and i oop- happy valentines day :)
No. Taglists. CoD Masterlist offer a coin to the picklejar
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bloodsuckingfiends · 1 month
Note
So about those smutty drabble ideas …
Astarion tries to seduce Tav but finds out he would be her first. So he will take even more special care of them. He does like Tav, after all. Whether he admits it to himself or not.
A Failed Plan
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A/N: He is so smitten and doesn't even know it and I love it. Also, this came out longer than I originally intended oopsies
Warnings: blood, loss of virginity so smut, praise, Tav is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns
The metallic tang of blood, Tav's blood, hits Astarion within seconds. He withdraws himself from her core and she whimpers at the loss of fullness within her. His carmine gaze looks down to where they are joined, crimson staining both of their skin.
"Tav darling, is this your first time?" his voice is uncharacteristically soft.
Tav's cheeks and chest flush, and she takes a shaky breath, "Yes. I'm sorry, I should have told you." She flounders over her words, nervously looking up at the vampire above her.
"Shh sh sh," he hushes, his hand coming up to brush hair from her cheek, "it's alright, I just want to make sure so I can properly take care of you." A shiver shoots down his spine at the realization that he actually means what he's saying. That he does indeed want to make sure that during Tav's first time, she is cared for. That she doesn't regret it.
A small smile eases it's way onto Tav's lips as he reassures her, and her breathing begins to even out again. The beat beneath her ribcage slows, still an anxious beat, albeit less anxious now.
"If I would have known, I would have eased my way in, " Astarion drags the head of his length through her slick folds, tapping it gently against her clit, then notching it at her entrance. "Made sure that you would be able to easily take me."
Tav whimpers, tears pricking at her eyes as he slides into her, inch by painful inch. He was rather large. Larger than she expected he would be, especially for her first time.
Astarion's long fingers drag up Tav's arm, lacing with her own fingers. He dips his head to her cheek, lips pressing to the blushed skin in a soft kiss, following a path down her delicious neck, "How are you doing, pup?" His cool breath tickles her ear and she shudders.
"You're big." Tav murmurs, her thighs tightening around his waist.
"Yes, but look at you taking me so well, sweetheart." He leans back a little, making a show of watching as he slowly pulls out before easing back into her again, "so soft and warm."
"Please, more." Tav whispers a bit brokenly, her eyes meeting his. Pleasure, rather than pain, begins to build in her belly, and her brows knit together from it. Astarion's movements pick up, and he leans forward again to hold Tav against his chest. She tucks her face in the crook of his neck, eyes fluttering shut. Her hands come up to hold him back, resting on the expanse of his shoulder blades. He tenses as she touches his scars, before relaxing into her.
He snakes a hand between them, his dexterous fingers rubbing circles against her swollen clit. Tav mewls against his neck, hips bucking against his.
“Think you can c-come for me?” he tries to keep his voice steady, tries not to stutter, but he feels himself hurtling faster toward the precipice.
She moans an affirmative, her heels digging into his ass a sign that she’s close.
A few more circles and she comes, a loud cry escaping her lips as her thighs quake around his waist.
Astarion’s not far behind, and as she clenched around his cock, he falls over the edge, painting her insides with his seed.
He slows his hips, the both of them panting softly as they part from each other, Astarion rolling to the side and gently pulling Tav to rest against him.
“We can’t stay out here-“ she starts to protest before he cuts her off.
“It’s only for a moment, darling. Just relax for a moment.” His fingers mindlessly play with the ends of her hair, as she settles against him, and he listens to her heartbeat steady itself.
As she lays against him, beneath the stars, he begins to worry that his initial plan, just may be falling apart.
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fluff ✿ angst ✮ hurt & comfort ✷ smut (nsfm) ♥
main masterlist
~ REQUESTS OPEN ~
most popular - WILDEST DREAMS ✿ - Finding out that your ex-best friend might have smelt you in the Amortentia feels as surreal as you smelling him.
author's favorite - INVISIBLE STRING ✿✷ - When you're having cramps, your boyfriend doesn't even think of shying away from helping you in anyway he can.
latest work - SAY DON'T GO ✿✮✷ - When your long-term boyfriend is slipped a love potion—he loses his memory of you.
KING OF MY HEART ✿ - You and James are friends with benefits until daisies and an incident with one asshole Quidditch player stirs up some hidden (or not-so-hidden) feelings.
MAROON ✿ - James usually doesn't like violence but he'll fight anyone who bad-mouths his girlfriend.
LAVENDER HAZE ♥ - Having a thing for your best friend's dad was your dirty little secret. Up until it wasn't so secret anymore.
THIS LOVE ✿ - Sometimes your lovely boyfriend can have a hard time with the word 'no'.
HOW YOU GET THE GIRL ✿✷✮ - You've never had your first kiss — well not until you stupidly kiss the boy you've had a crush on since forever, the same boy who happens to be your best friend.
FOOLISH ONE ✮ - James was and would never be yours.
TIMELESS ✿✷ - James wants to take you out to one of his families' fancy parties. However, he underestimates how cruel people can be when someone is different.
* * * related: muggle!reader * * *
ENCHANTED (pt.1) ✿ - Three weeks after his devastating break up with Lily, James wanted Remus and Sirius to bring him to a muggle bar in central London.
SWEETER THAN FICTION (pt.2) ✿ - After months of dating, James finally tells you he's a wizard.
* * *
YOU ARE IN LOVE ✿ - You never realized how much of an idiot your brother's best friend is until he becomes jealous.
GLITCH ♥ - You never intended to admit you would fuck James Potter. You hate him. Well, turns out you hate him a little less when he's touching you in ways you'd only dreamed of.
STAY BEAUTIFUL ✿✷- When you overhear some of James's friends comment on your weight, James comforts you.
SANTA BABY ✿ - James wants to make his family's Christmas special.
SNOW ON THE BEACH ✿✷ - When your eleven-year-old son comes home for Christmas break in tears, you and James are instantly worried.
NEW ROMANTICS ✿✷ - When your "friends" play a dangerously stupid prank on you, James is the last person you'd think would help you.
COLD AS YOU ✷✮ - You want your boyfriend's attention again.
I THINK HE KNOWS ♥ - Your boyfriend promises to watch over you when you want to get drunk.
BEGIN AGAIN ✿ - James has been persuing you for years and you've never said yes, until now?
END GAME ✿✷ - Playing Quidditch against your secret boyfriend is usually fun…
GOLD RUSH ✿✷✮ - You're a stupid drunk and James Potter is very very bad at dealing with his romantic feelings.
DAYLIGHT ♥ - When your boyfriend finds out he didn't make you come, his anger quickly turns into lust.
THE ALCOTT ✮ - You love James but he loves Lily. It's simple until it isn't so simple anymore.
SUBURBAN LEGENDS ✿✷ - James tries to teach you how to ice skate.
SAY DON'T GO ✿✮✷ - When your long-term boyfriend is slipped a love potion—he loses his memory of you.
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