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token-08 · 3 days

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Battalia Bendetta Chapter 1 - Seeds of the Future

It was 7:14 AM, August 26th in SouthEast Yoyo City. Sunday Simms woke up with a yawn, before breaking into a wide grin. Today they finally were going to begin High School, and they were ecstatic to say the least. They got dressed, brushed their teeth, made some breakfast and left the house fully ready and in High-Schooler Mode™. They left in a run to try to get on campus in time. They hummed to themself as they dashed, mentally making plans to join clubs and make friends and-

Suddenly they were grabbed by their hood, jolting them backwards, nearly dropping them to the ground. “Ack-!” Before they can react to the tug a large truck whizzed past, blaring its horn at them loudly. It surely would have hit them had it not been for whoever pulled them back. They quickly spun around to see who their rescuer was. It was a girl, slightly shorter than them, sporting short, dark navy colored hair cut into a short bob that was longer in the front and shorter in the back. She wore a black graphic tee with a white sweater beneath. She wouldn’t have looked out of place at a punk concert. Sunday had surely never seen this girl before, but something about her face seemed so familiar. Could it be…?

“Hey Sunny. Sorry for the scare, but I couldn’t let you die before the first day even started.”

“Erika! You look so different now, I didn't even recognize you!”

Sunday wrapped their arms tightly around Erika, both in thanks for saving their life, and in joy of seeing their best friend again. Sunday and Erika had met in the fourth grade, and have been stuck like glue ever since, though they hadn’t seen each other at all during the latter half of their summer vacation as Sunday had been on a trip visiting their dad. If you were to ask them, they’d say they were made for each other. They had shared interests in going to parks and cafés, they both enjoyed hiking and playing video games together, and they shared a massive love for their favorite series, ‘Maiden Senshi.’ The two even supplemented the weak points that each other had. Sunday was the most friendly person you could ever meet, but they had a frequent tendency to do things without thinking about them all the way through (They had a ‘heart of gold but head of air,’ as Erika often remarked.) Erika, however, was extremely clever, especially academically, but her cold and blunt personality made making friends extremely difficult for her. Compounded with her struggle to understand what people were feeling, socialization was a struggle for Erika. Sunday would be helpless if not for Erika’s quick thinking getting them out of jams time and time again, and Erika likely would be all on her own without Sunny’s camaraderie and warmth. Together, they were a complementary pair.

Sunday finally released the prisoner from their Alcatrazean embrace and they began to idly chat on their way to school.

“So! What made you change up your style? It looks amazing!”

Erika enjoyed the sweet words before making her response. “I think I just wanted to wear something more unique. Something a bit more… like me, y’know?”

“Hehe, well it definitely suits you!”

Erika then suddenly remembered something that she was waiting to mention to her friend while she had the chance.

“I want to try to join the photography club.”

“Photography? Oh! That’s awesome! Remember back at the zoo when you took that really good hippo photo? That one that got featured on the Nature Channel!”

“You really remembered that? That was back in like fifth grade wasn’t it?”

“Of course I remember! It was awesome!” Sunday beamed at Erika, who couldn’t help but smile back.

Finally, the duo had arrived at the school. The building that they would be attending for the next three years. Up close, the building seemed so much larger and more intimidating than they could imagine. It was in part that they’d never been so close, with the other part being the fact that they were really here now. In high school. Sunday was about to make a remark to Erika, but when they turned to her she was already walking off.

“I can't be late, I’ll be seeing you.”

“Hey! You can’t just walk off like that!” Wailed Sunday, but Erika seemingly didn’t hear or didn’t care, leaving them alone and destitute in the large courtyard. They mourned for a moment, but figured that their clever friend did probably have a point about not being late. It was the first day after all, and they couldn't live with that kind of reputation for the rest of the year. Reluctantly, they entered the building and went in the direction of their class.

Sunday was placed in Class C, which was located on the second floor, as were the rest of the first years. The class stood fourth door down from the start of the hallway and was taught under the careful guidance of Ms. Leason. Sunday made sure to memorize all of this information so that they didn’t risk getting completely lost in the massive expanse of the building, something that happened to them more times in past schools than they would like to admit.

The first class was a relatively standard first-day-of-the-year protocol. The teacher introduced herself and then started calling students up alphabetically to do the same. Sunday listened attentively, trying to make a mental note of every person’s name and face. A stranger was just a friend you haven't met, after all! When it was finally their own turn they eagerly piped up and stood.

“My name is Sunday Simms! I went to Mela Junior High before I went here! I hope to make friends with you all!”

Ms. Leason nodded. “Thank you, Sunday. Next, Falon Spiel, please.”

A boy situated one desk forward and two desks left from Sunday rose. He dressed nicer than most other students, wearing a white dress shirt and a tie. His hair was dreaded and parted down the middle. These, by themselves, would be pretty average features. Maybe it was slightly strange that he was so dressed up compared to the rest of the student body, but Sunday figured that everyone had their own style. However, it wasn’t those traits that stood out; it was the white eyepatch he had wrapped around his head, covering his right eye. Immediately, Sunday’s mind went wild. What could have happened to him? Arrow? Acid? Axe attack? Probably not that last one, as there would probably be some kind of scar left. No scar left… Maybe it was fake? Although possible, that theory didn’t feel quite right either. Lost in thought, they almost completely missed him actually introducing himself. They shook themself from their wild imagination to listen. Perhaps he’d say something about his strange accessory.

“Hello everyone. My name is Falon Spiel. I also come from Mela Junior High. I’m pleased to make everyone’s acquaintance.” He bowed and closed his eye with a grin. Maybe he was winking? It was unclear, but obviously meant to appear playful, which was an odd contrast to his overly formal introduction. Sunday had already grown even more suspicious of their bizarre classmate. He also went to Mela? They didn't remember anyone like him, eye patch or not. He seemed completely unfamiliar. They really were trying to just pass over it, but they just couldn’t shake the strange feeling they got about him. He just seemed so… off. Eyepatch? ‘From the same school’ yet they didn’t know him? Was this guy a time traveler or something? No matter how hard they tried to eject the thoughts they just couldn’t get that weird guy out of their mind.

The rest of school went by in a flash. Or at least it felt like a flash to Sunday, who operated distractedly throughout the day. They had made several attempts to try to speak with their fishy classmate but it felt as if he had a posse doting on him at all times. Seemingly everyone in Class C wanted a piece of the mysterious Falon Spiel. Sunday walked out of the building at the end of the day, defeated and more focused on their classmate than their surroundings. They were preparing to wait for Erika, yet hadn’t realized that she was already waiting right in front of them. Their friend waved her hand in front of their face to break their daze.

“Sunny? You’re thinking. What's going on?” Sunday found the comment slightly funny, but they knew Erika well enough to know that she was being completely genuine with the inquiry. The two began their walk as Sunday responded.

“Nothing… Well, mostly nothing. Was there ever anyone at our old school named Falon Spiel? Black kid, dreads, about yay high?” They held their hand a couple inches above their head, as it was the best estimate they could give of his height without being able to get any closer to him.

“No, I don’t remember anyone named or looking like that. Why do you ask?”

“Because he was there today in class.. He was dressed up all fancy and was wearing an eyepatch. According to him, he also went to Mela.”

“An eyepatch? Why?”

“That’s what I was thinking! This guy has been on my mind all day but I didn’t have a chance to ask him anything because it’s like he has his own fan club!”

“That is all pretty strange… I suppose you just need to ask him when you get a chance, right?”

“Well, that’s what I was thinking today. But then I thought that it would be super weird if I just went up to this guy I’d never met and said ‘Hi! My name is Sunday! What’s the deal with the eye patch and why did you lie about going to my school?’”

Erika laughed. “I suppose that would be pretty weird. So, what’s your plan?”

Sunday put their head in their hands. “I have absolutely no idea.”

Erika sighed; she really should have expected that answer. She looked down the street they were walking past and spotted her house. “This is where I leave you to your own. Good luck with that whole Falon thing.”

It was now Sunday's turn to sigh at their friend. That girl really couldn’t stick around today it felt like. For a second time today, they were walking down the road, alone, lost in thought, though this time under different pretenses (but still making sure to look both ways before crossing). They walked the rest of the way home as fatigue began to set in. They weren’t sure whether to attribute it to the first day of school adrenaline wearing off or to how much they tried to think today, but they were spent. They entered their home expecting to see their mother waiting for them, as had become a usual for when they got home from school, but they didn’t see her anywhere. They did, however, spot a yellow sticky note stuck to the counter, and gave it a read.

“Felt ill and turned in early, ham and cheese in the fridge! - Mom”

They thought about having the sandwich, but decided that they’d save it for later. As for right now: they needed a power nap. After one quick rest they knew they’d be back to their hyper-energized self. They opened the door to their room to quickly nap and their eyes went wide.

Who is that in their room?

The small girl sat in Sunday’s chair. She didn’t appear fully grown, but also not quite like a child either. If they had to guess she may have been about 13 or 14 years old. Her skin was golden brown and her hair was white and flowing, as was the strangely elegant dress she wore. Her body was wrapped in many contour golden rings: A set on her ankles, a set on her wrists, one wrapped around her waist, and one wrapped around her head like a size-too-small halo. To call her unassuming would be a lie. But even with all the jewelry, nothing about her compared to her eyes. They were colored a bright platinum, and were as splendid as if they were actually glowing. Wait, were her eyes actually glowing? No, they couldn’t be… The eyes, or her face as a whole, rather, appeared unfeeling. The stranger was completely unbothered as the owner of the room she was intruding in analyzed her. Is she waiting for them? Who is this? Why is she here? What in the world is going on?

Finally, Sunday swallowed their fear and spoke to the mystery girl. “You… who are you? What are you doing here?”

“To give you the gift to protect, Sunday Simms.” The girl spoke very simply. Her voice was flat, as if she belonged here and that this was something they were meant to know. Her mannerisms of speech actually reminded Sunday of a younger Erika, that is to say it was as if she hadn’t quite figured out how to feel yet. On their friend it was quite funny and their parents had even found it cute. But on this stranger it seemed more unnerving than anything else.

“The… what? And you didn’t tell me who you are! Or how you got here!”

“My apologies. My name is Boast. A goddess long forgotten. I am the embodiment of energy, of victory, of adrenaline. When you feel your blood rush, when you get back up, when you punch and kick and give every fight your all, that is you feeling me. I have come here to give you a piece of my power. To give you a way to protect yourself and others from what is to come.”

The answers they received did little but open up a boundless list of new questions. A goddess? What is to come? What the hell is she talking about? Is this real?

“There’s no way… Is this a prank? If it is, it's not funny!”

“If you disbelieve me, then I implore you: try to remove one of my rings.” Boast held out an arm towards Sunday, wrist up, seemingly vulnerable, offering a golden ring. Cautiously, they lightly touched the ring to grab hold. But with only a light grazing of their finger on the jewelry, a terrible sensation blazed through their hand. The ring wasn’t hot. If anything, the metal was actually slightly cold. The feeling when they gripped it, though, it was as if it were burning. They recoiled from the painful touch before dubiously bracing themself to reach for it again, but Boast put up a hand to signify for them to stop.

“I advise you to not try that again. These are the Rings of Binding. Forged by the gods to inhibit. I am fortunate to be strong enough to bear the burden, but to a human they could prove themselves fatal.”

“But why did they put them on you? You seem…” They analyzed the goddess’ appearance before finishing the thought. “Harmless.”

For the first time, Boast paused for a moment before responding. She held her finger and thumb to her chin, looked to the ground, and pursed her lips in deep thought. In that moment, and for only that moment, she really did resemble a child.

Boast raised her head again. “Have you heard the story of Prometheus? It is an ancient tale, originating from Greece. It’s the story of a god who brought fire from the heavens to mankind, and was reprimanded for it with terrible punishment.”

“Are you trying to say that you’re like him? What did you do then?”

“I gave you, humans, a palette for victory. The taste for more. I am why humans summited Everest. Why they crossed the seas, why they placed a flag on the moon. The gods find your ambition blasphemous. I view it as the missing piece you needed to be whole.”

Sunday was taken aback by this. This girl, this small and inconspicuous girl sitting in their desk chair, was the arbiter of drive and want and ambition in all of mankind. As this sunk in, they decided that they finally, finally, were beginning to trust her. They felt that finally, finally, they were ready to listen.

“Okay. What do you need from me?”

“There soon will be monsters that walk this earth. I am going to give you a piece of me. With this piece you will be stronger, faster, and more vigorous. Additionally, there will be an unforeseen side effect.” Sunday made a face of worry at that comment. ‘Unforeseen side effects’ are typically not a good thing.

Boast noticed their expression and elaborated. “Worry not, they are not harmful. Quite the contrary in fact. My power will reflect in your soul like a prism, and in doing so unlock abilities that represent what you are inside your heart.”

Sunday’s tension turned to intrigue. Abilities that reflect who they were inside? What would they say about them?

Boast continued, “It is with this very power that you will take on the beasts of corruption, known as Pollutions. As you foster this power, you shall grow stronger. And since the power you hold is a piece of me, as will I. With enough time and growth, I eventually should accumulate enough power to break free of these Binding Rings and finally purify the world completely of the Pollutions. That objective is our ultimate goal.”

Sunday nodded. Despite the lengthy explanation the plan seemed deceptively simple. Borrow her power, fight the bad guys, give it back, she gets rid of them for good. They could do this. It seemed easy peasy, right?

“Okay then. I’m ready. How do we do this?”

“It’s quite simple. Lie down.” Sunday did as told, lying down on their bed and Boast, careful not to let Sunday touch any of her Rings, rose from her seat in Sunday’s chair and placed both her hands in the center of Sunday’s abdomen, as if she were about to give the mortal CPR.

“Now. I am going to channel my energy throughout you. This will take a lot from you. Are you prepared?”

They nodded and closed their eyes, nerves beginning to rise. They felt the goddess press down and start quietly chanting in a language they were struggling to place. Italian maybe? Likely some grandfather language to it, though that was unimportant.

When Boast said it would take a lot from them, they assumed she meant that it would be strenuous, or painful like when they attempted to touch the Binding Ring, but it resembled neither.ather, it was more like being given anesthesia at the doctor. They forced their eyes open in an attempt to stay awake a second longer during the process, but a second was all they were gifted. The last thing they were able to recall before finally fading into sleep was the glow of the Boast's pale eyes in their fading room.

And then there was nothing.

#original w #original writing #stor #urban #Battalia Bendetta

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mochidreambubble · 1 year

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Desire to Take a Bite out of You

Something about a Beauty taming a Beast… You could call it a cliché but it happens time and time again for a reason, no?

[didn't post it here originally but here, my self indulgent Reese fic cause when the newest update released I had lost my mind. AO3 version here.

Spoilers up to Episode 4 of Scarlet Hollow Episode 4 has me in a chokehold. Also probably OOC for Reese because I’m trying to hold back on purple prose but that is asking a lot from me. Almost all dialogue is lifted directly from in-game text (This was torture for I had to keep referencing in game dialogue lmao)]

With the doc fussing a great deal in the clinic above, Reese just stares into the ceiling as music blasts through his speakers. His phone that rests next to his head, sharing the lumpy space, has lit up with activity a great deal the past several hours. It’s from Stella. He should be keen on reading what she has to say, being the only friend for a long while that keeps in touch with him at all but

he’s

just so

tired, down to his very bones

and those bones are yelling at him, screaming to move and to stretch but into what he doesn’t know and he just wants to keep laying there but he needs to get up he’s just stuck here

Reese relents, at last, to read the wall of text Stella’s messages had accumulated to. Calls were one thing, but Stella tended to text more intensely - message after message if she could, in terms of her updates.

Almost all of it, in between what could almost be strung coherently like a B-grade horror flick plot, was about the only other Scarlet apart from Tabitha to currently walk the Earth. He actually can’t tell if she’s just excited to make a new friend or if there are some hints of a developing crush because she does seem taken with the guy.

Stella did have a history for dating Scarlets, even if the only one prior was Tabitha - that and she didn't tell Kaneeka or him. But he didn't think they were hiding it that well. Though comparing him to his cousin, from what she’s been explaining, he pegs the new guy in town as a lot less sour - heck, even friendly. There’s this odd sense that she’s skirting around talking about what this guy looks like for whatever reason. He tries to paint a picture in his mind of haunted eyes amidst a friendly face, but every Scarlet he got the chance to meet or see past pictures off were all so dreary. Maybe, despite being from out of town, or maybe because they were a Scarlet born out of Scarlet Hollow, that they morphed into looks so unearthly that no words could describe them. And Stella was just too nice to speak of it?

It would be interesting, Reese concludes, something worth getting up to see if he had the chance to. Stella talks quite extensively of him but has yet to offer up a picture of any kind after all.

He sleeps, dreams of finally leaving this prison of a house.

* * *

He gets his flippant wish, and part of him wishes to turn back time if only to make one with more serious thought

a key for his cage maybe

but he’s ecstatic - even if he can only express it in the mildest way possible - to see Stella and Kaneeka again; to finally have company aside from just his mom and the silence of the ever-changing guests at the morgue. His mom had told him that they were dropping by for dinner with said Scarlet stranger. He tells her his name is Ashe and gives the most noncommitted sound of acknowledgement she can. He supposes maybe she doesn’t think it’s worth remembering for long, since he was only here till the funeral before he likely dips for good, never to return to this sorry state of a town.

He tries not to be glued to the entrance, the doc fussing how he’s going to wear himself out and that the outside warmth would swelter him and the dozen over effects of why and how and everything. But he’s close enough to hear when they arrive.

“..What if Doctor Kelly yells at us?”

And he stifles a laugh. He hears Stella good-naturedly reply to Keneeka, even giving his own mom the benefit of the doubt that it was all fine and dandy that they were here a little early because they were there to hang with him after all. Makes him feel a little guilty them for delaying looking at her messages and updates. She really was a good friend.

He opens the door just as Kaneeka interjects, and he holds back the already rising laugh - he’s actually not sure the doc would react well if it devolves into a coughing fit. It would end the night early and he would hate that after he finally gets the chance to see other people again.

“Hey!”

He makes sure to take in the sight of both his childhood friends, holy hell it feels like it’s been too long, and…

Oh.

Oh fuck.

He takes the few insane milliseconds that quickly tick by that his friends used to greet him back to go through an inner state of panic cause what the fuck Stella how hard is it to tell him the new guy was a siren on land, a work of art a little warning would have been nice actually fuck he should say something

“You must be Ashe, right?” He offers a small smile and Ashe immediately retaliates with a bright one. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Stella’s been relentless about making sure I got all the Ashe updates.”

Gretchen starts getting huffy in Stella’s arms, her owner gently trying to calm her nerves. The poor pup never really liked coming here, and he’s a little surprised Stella still brought her along. His mom never lets pets in the house - near him especially.

“Hope she’s been saying good things,” Ashe gives a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

Reese gets the feeling Stella would nudge him if she wasn’t trying to calm the restless Gretchen in her arms. “Please, I’ve just been thorough on our misadventures, and if those include unsavoury details about you, that’s on you, dude.”

She throws a wink his way and Ashe laughs with a little more vigour. Kaneeka rolls her eyes and gives Reese a pointed look, doing her best to

His mom rushes to the door at last, clearly in a worried and displeased huff that they were early.

Several minutes of tense small talk between his friends, the stranger and his mom, the visiting trio found themselves in his basement room. He tries not to just focus on the newcomer; his friends whom he hasn't seen face to face in forever were visiting after all. Who knows when the next time this would happen would even be. But he still peaks at Ashe from the corner of his eye, the teen who dressed in sleek monochrome studying his work so intently. It makes his heart dance and tremble. Perhaps he should have laid out his best work…

Stella pulls him back, she and Kaneeka spending minutes in conversation with him. You told them to make themselves comfortable while the newcomer continues to study Reese’s works. He's happy that his friends are here of course. Of course he is, but there's this great impatience there too. He can only be disappointed in himself but

hunger just a bite. you deserve it you want to sink your teeth into his pale neck and to lick the wound close and have him curl against you to rely on you wouldn't that be nice to be all he needs

“Your art…”

The three of them turn to Ashe who was meeting their gaze, his eyes in some form of contemplation as he gently brushes his fingers against the frames of the canvas. “I feel the emotion you put into these… They’re writing, just behind the paint, radiating pain and anguish.”

Oh. Oh he understood.

behind the paint, they yearn to pull him in, drag him so he remains here, forever immortalised

He walks over to the lithe young man. “I know what you mean. I feel it, too.”

Part of him wants to slap himself. Of course he would know, these were his paintings after all. He continues, if only to quickly pretend he didn’t say that. “When I’m working on them it's like I’m channelling whatever’s plaguing me into the paint, and when they’re done I feel like I’ve been emptied out, and all the vile things inside of me have been sealed away in the canvas.”

Ashe turns to him now, investing, transfixed even by his words. Kaneeka and Stella seem to browse around his room, trying not to interfere. So Reese continues. “It’s why I make so many of them. Sometimes, when I return to a piece, it’s almost like I’m offering an invitation for those feelings to slither back under my skin…”

The newcomer looks slightly mournful as the words pour out from Reese. “There are some pieces I can’t even look at. I hide them until I forget they exist. I’d rather not let those particular feelings back in.”

Kaneeka chimes in, a reminder that it was not just the two of them in the room. “Sounds kind of like… Therapy? That seems… Healthy, probably…?”

“Yeah, art therapy!” Stella’s chipper voice joins in. “Sounds like it does you good. Being empty must be better than being full of bad thoughts, right?”

“I think so. It works for me, at least.”

There’s a glint in Ashe’s eyes, slightly playful and enticing inviting. “If you ever need a model, I’m here ‘til Monday.”

It was like his heart was suddenly caught in his throat. “Th-That would be amazing. Though I should warn you, I work odd hours… I don’t usually pick up a brush until late at night.”

He doesn’t seem deterred by Reese’s words, and he feels confident to ask, trying his best to sound… Flirtatious? Hopeful?

“But if that’s not a dealbreaker, it would be incredible to have such a…” He tries not to fluster or blush, it would be so obvious on his pale visage. “Captivating model. I look forward to the company, and I hope I can do your likeness justice.”

“Late hours don’t bother me,” Ashe smiles, and Reese can understand why foolish sailors were drawn to drown by mermaids or to follow enchanting but dangerous beauties into the woods. “I’m something of a late owl myself, so I don’t mind if it’s alright for me to be over so late.”

Whatever elation you feel is sharply shattered when Stella interjects. “Maybe we could all come! Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Keneeka finally turns back at them from her corner, a little awkward as she reads the mood. “Uh…”

Ashe simply laughs good naturedly and the conversation lulls to other things. Reese tries to focus on the fact that things seem to be looking up for him.

Of course, he just had to fall ill at dinner, and his friends and the newcomer had to be chased out of his home…

He readies himself to be despondent on not seeing Ashe before he had to leave on Monday…

* * *

…Except whatever that seemed to be looking out for him finally threw him a bone. Reese was staring into the darkness, the chill of the morgue drowning him. Then, the lights clicked on.

Ashe was just as surprised to see him. Well, slightly funny as Ashe was likely trespassing out of the blue. He’s not disappointed though. “Ashe? What are you doing in the morgue?”

Clearly caught off guard, Ashe actually seemed a little flustered. “Uh,” he cleared his throat, trying to regain composure. There’s an odd look to his face, as if he was not used to being so flustered. “H-Hi…”

It was an adorable contrast to the cool countenance from yesterday.

and the hunger stirs deeply

“H-hey…” Of course, he shoots down any chance to be the cool one for a change. He scrambles to his feet to meet Ashe. “Sorry, this must look kind of weird. I promise I’m not secretly dead already or something. Sometimes I just come down to… Practice. Rehearse.”

Ashe steps closer, that playful gleam returning like from yesterday. “If you are a living corpse,” he pauses as if to ponder, then adds jokingly. “That wouldn't be a dealbreaker.”

“That’s good to know. I’m still not. But I’m glad I haven’t managed to scare you off, it’s not often I get to meet new people.”

Reese crosses his arms, trying to hide his nervousness, but unable to meet the eyes of the other, to fear his tells giving him away. “Especially new people I, um… Would like to get to know better.”

He sees the slight delight at those words, but Ashe was suddenly drawn to something else. The wall it seems. He didn’t mind. Not when it started a chain of exciting events. And well, it certainly helped that…

The retrieval of the axe gets slightly halted from the Doc’s quick return, and now Reese finds himself in the closet (Ha! Like a bad metaphor for the ages) with Ashe. He feels Ashe come closer to gaze out the small crack of the closet door, Ashe’s hand brushing against his. His reflex has him involuntarily twitching away, a quiet gasp escaping his lips. He tries to keep his voice steady in his whispers. “S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to bump you…”

“It’s okay,” His voice was so so gentle. How long was it that someone spoke to him this way, his own mother even. ��I don’t mind.”

“Oh…” Reese relaxes slightly, though the whole affair made him anxious as he was excited. With a small smile back, Reese speaks up again, but he feels a blush colouring his cheeks. “Th-Then if you need to lean in, that’s okay. I don’t mind, either.”

He wonders if it was possible to feel regret and elation all at once in such intensity, especially since Ashe does lean in again. Reese does so too, trying to keep his eyes out into the office. He knows Ashe could likely hear the erratic beating of his heart and his shallow breaths, though Ashe himself makes no further comments on it.

Once they were in the clear and free to explore the office once more - Reese trying to not look like he was hurrying out, Ashe does give a soft laugh and it was like music. “Aw… I was having fun in there.”

He pauses in his search for the keys, heart once again caught in his mouth and a quick glance back to Ashe, cheeks dusted pink again. He could swear Ashe was all too pleased. It was like a hope, a swansong, this direct interest. He tries to search intently, unable to meet the other’s eyes. “...We could always… Spend more time together later. Once we’re done sneaking around.”

Reese shifts to another cupboard, trying to look too preoccupied to return his focus to Ashe. “If the doc hasn’t kicked you out by then.”

Though just like a mocking force enjoying his suffering, whatever joy that built up was shattered by haunting revelations. He was only grateful that Ashe let me use the axe to ruin that drywall. And maybe he was… Slightly happy to carry Ashe once whatever that stone… slab thing knocked him out. The carvings were so intrinsic, if the doc wasn’t on a warpath and a sleeping beauty wasn’t literally sleeping in his arms, maybe it would be interesting to sketch down.

Ashe certainly didn’t seem to mind when the revelation came up that Reese carried him down to his room and laid him on his bed.

“Wish I’d been awake while you carried me…”

Maybe Reese should mark the calendar for today for the most occurrences that blood has rushed to his face. “I could always put on a repeat performance… If that’s the sort of thing you’d like.”

Ashe seemed more concerned about him and his current circumstances than wherever occurred upstairs. He even scored an invite to… To live with him. Well, him and a pet cat of sorts. One may think they were moving so fast but…

“It’s an exciting thought. Living… With you.”

Anywhere was better, so long as they were away from her, a place where he could keep Ashe safe

can you? so long as she lives, can you keep him safe?

They discuss plans and theories of that woman, but it eats at him, something itches beneath his skin.

Ashe offers the most enticing distraction before more anger could build. “You could always… Draw me.”

Reese tries not to think of the frenzied painting of Ashe he did last night. It was all wrong when he tried, unable to being forth the captivating features and the life in those eyes. He dreamt that the painting of Ashe came to life and…

It doesn’t matter. He ruined it somehow. Tore through the canvas.

This was a chance to redeem that.

“If you’re sure you’re okay with sitting for a portrait… I’d love to draw you.”

He gets Ashe a chair, energised and excited at the prospect. He feels more alive than he has in years. Bolder even. After some rough lines, he decides to ask, “May I… Touch your face?”

His art model laughs, and every time Reese hears it, it’s always like a symphony that he wants to repeat. “You don’t even have to ask permission.”

He really is so… Calm about this attention. It shouldn’t be that surprising. People like Ashe… They are hardly the type to have a sparse dating history. He had mentioned offhandedly yesterday he wasn’t in a relationship now, but it just meant he had a history. There is that itch beneath his skin again, a gnawing feeling. He ignores it, pushes it down as Ashe gave him permission to touch him.

He feels the need to be gentle as he tilts Ashe’s head slightly to the side. He was so close he could smell the wisteria and jasmine on Ashe’s skin. Ashe was watching him from the corner of his eyes. Reese memorises the long lashes and gentle gaze.

“Perfect,” Reese says as he pulls away, missing the soft touch of the other’s skin on his fingertips as he pulls away. He doesn’t withdraw very far, eyes locking with Ashe who hasn't broken his own gaze from him. Ashe takes this chance to gently take his hand, bringing it to his cheek.

“Maybe you could study my face… More closely.”

He is pulled closer, and a flurry of words come to panic because he could swear he was about to get a-

Ah. But what was that and the constant theme of things not going his way? It was only natural perhaps, that it all went to hell.

That voice. That man, creature, whatever that ghoul was. He just has to interfere, had to be a thorn at Ashe’s side. It didn’t matter. Him. The doc. They would all be dealt with now, wouldn’t they?

* * *

It was like a sudden breaking of a curse. The anger. The hunger. It all snapped and tore away.

“She loves you Reese,” Ashe doesn’t recoil from him, a gentle hand on his face. “Leave now.”

He hears the plea, so torn, so heartbroken. For him.

“Before you do something you regret.”

“I’m not… a monster…”

The gunshot that came after that tore through him did not hurt as compared to the horror he saw flash in Ashe’s eyes. It hurt even more, the longing to be with him…

He flees.

#scarlet hollow #reese kelly #my writing #my fic #my self idulgent bullshit i am dying here #my oc: Ashelia #lots of copious in game text #anyways i am screaming to the hills until the next episode still

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writingwithjade · 4 days

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In pursuit of the fragile heart

Chapter 4

Primrose’s face is anything but excited, the dreaded expression makes it seem like she is seeing a ghost. Her heart is thumping loudly against her chest, screaming at her to get away, to flee, that what she is seeing right now is a threat to her fragile and vulnerable soul.

A pool of emotion swims through her, it’s too much, too overwhelming, but she must stay calm. Lilian doesn’t know about anything between her and this man, nor does she even know about what secrets they hold underneath this mortal persona. If the raven head shows any signs of weakness, she is afraid that before she can hold herself back, Lilian will already make a scene out of it. Lilian, her kind and protective friend, will never forgive anyone who dares to harm her, let alone break her heart.

“Primrose…”

The way her name leaves his mouth is warm and endearing, it’s like he has been waiting for a chance to call her like that. The warm and velvety voice draws her attention as she looks up, onyx meeting silver.

There is a smile on Caleb’s lips, kind and gentle. While he holds a calm exterior when speaking to her, there is a spark in the depth of his beautiful eyes, something that she can not make out of. She stares at the hand in front of her, a chill runs down her spine when she realizes that it is his hand in front of her. This big and calloused hand that once patted her head so lovingly, she wonders if it feels the same as last time.

“M-my pleasure to meet you, Mr. Vatore…”

It sounds weird, the way she calls him, as if to dismiss any former connection they had with each other, or maybe she is treating this friendly coffee date as nothing more than a regular business meeting.

Caleb’s heart clenches at the way she speaks, it would be a lie if he said he is not bothered by it. But he maintains his cool and makes himself comfortable on the seat, both hands on the table and just a few inches away from Primrose’s small palm. How he wishes he could hold onto it, feeling how perfectly her fingers fit in his larger ones.

Ever since he saw her, Caleb has had to keep himself from overreaching and overreacting. Seeing her is more than making him happy, he is ecstatic. But the vampire lord knows very well that nothing hurts Primrose more than meeting him right now. The ugly scar he left for her is bleeding, it hasn’t healed perfectly and he is right here, rubbing salt on the wound even more by just appearing in front of her.

It’s wrong of him to make her feel like that, trapped within the freedom of her human world. As much as he hates himself for making her think like that, the young lord can’t help but continue to seek her. The vampire blood inside of him years and craves for human touch, for her touch. And Caleb has to do everything he can to hold back that desire within him.

The way to one’s heart is a smooth but bumpy road, but the way to Primrose’s guarded heart is a path of thorns and blood, each step closer means the stronger her defense system becomes, blocking away any potential threats to the peace she creates for herself.

“Primrose, got so shy already?” Lilian giggles, oblivious to the unspoken tension in the air “Introduce yourself a little bit, come on!”

“L-Lilian…”

“Ah, maybe you can talk more about yourself, Caleb. Primrose has a tendency to be tensed whenever she meets new people.”

Primrose steals a few glances at her friend, mentally sighing in relief. To save her from embarrassing herself, Lilian has come up with an innocent lie. The raven head has no problem working with new people, given the nature of her career as a writer. But she has been so tensed that her eyes are only glued to the white tablecloth and nothing else, fearing that if their eyes meet again, she might not be able to hold back the tears that are threatened to spill.

“Well, this is…awkward…” he smiles sheepishly, running his hand to the back of his head “I thought you want me to help you with your thesis, Lilian…”

“Yes, but since my friend is here too, I thought I might introduce you guys. Besides, shyness doesn’t suit you, Mr. Vatore.”

A chuckle escapes his lip, low and warm, it’s like a bell ringing in her ears. The blush adorns Primrose’s face when she realizes her odd string of thoughts and lightly shakes her head, hoping to get rid of it.

“My apologies…” Caleb nods his head “Then allow me to get both of you something, I also need to order coffee too.”

“You don’t have to, Caleb.”

“Please, it’s my treat.”

“Ah, if you insist…” Lilian ponders her thoughts and smiles “I shall get a caramel frappe, and you, Primrose?”

“Lilian, it’s cold outside and you want an ice-blended drink?” her friend raises a brow “Some doctor you are.”

“Come on, don’t be such a killjoy like that. Besides, I’m immune to coldness, so you don’t have to worry about me, Prims!” Lilian pouts playfully “And your drink? Caleb is waiting…”

Primrose jumps a bit, chewing on her bottom lips. She doesn’t want to talk to him, not yet, not now. But to leave someone waiting for her order is not a good way to treat people and her family has taught her better than this. And Caleb, always so patient, gazes at her softly. There is a glint of encouragement, almost as if he tries to tell her that everything is okay and there’s nothing to be worried about. Knowing Primrose, he is the last person she wants to hear that from.

“You take too long! Why don’t you just let Caleb pick a drink? I heard that he is quite a coffee expert.”

The young lord smiles, taking this as a cue to leave the two ladies alone. Standing at the register, he wonders what he should order for Primrose. Does she still like the same latte years ago? Or maybe her taste buds have changed and more refined over the last couple of years? Should he go the safe route of picking the customer's favorite drink for her or follow what he thinks she will like?

“What can I get for you today, sir?”

“Ah, can I get a cold brew, a caramel frappe, and a…” skimming through all the menu items one last time, something catches his attention and Caleb smiles “The house’s fresh strawberry drink, make it light ice please.”

While Caleb is ordering, Lilian confronts Primrose about her odd behavior. Knowing Primrose for a long time, she can tell that her friend is hiding something but refusing to talk to her. the raven head is chewing on her bottom lips right now, a habit she does whenever she feels anxious.

“It’s okay, Lilian. I’m fine.”

But her brunette friend is having a hard time buying into the obvious lie. She can’t pry her friend, Primrose is someone who will keep her mouth shut when she wants to keep something a secret and it would be a waste of time for anyone to make her talk.

Her inner turmoil is getting bigger, not only for the appearance of Caleb but also for the conversation she had with her mentors a few days ago. She has wished to know the truth for so long and when she gets closure, Primrose finds herself in a weird dilemma.

Caleb did what he did for the sake of his family, and for her safety. If that is true, then she is grateful for his selfless action. But along with protecting her, he had shattered her heart and the trust she held for him. She was 18 years old at the time, an age which most people considered to be vulnerable as it was the first step to adulthood. The abandonment and rejection tainted her view of life, asking herself the question of what mistake she made to receive such cruel treatment.

She holds onto that pain, unable to move past it. Primrose knows that there are a lot of good people out there who will treat her better, but the thought of opening her heart again scares her. They said the possibility is endless and the future is limitless, but that also means there is no concrete outcome if she decides to venture out into the dating world again. It frightens her, the thought of loving someone and only to be abandoned by them, the wound in her heart is the haunted reminder of what will happen if she chooses to accept another person into her life.

Primrose has never got into any serious relationship. While many wonderful people want to court her, the furthest she can do is just go out on dates. She yearns for affection yet is too scared to take a leap of fate, so she uses her books as a release of all her pent-up frustration and desires. Lilian once told her that it was quite a shock that she could write such amazing love stories while having no experience in dating at all. The comment, while harmless, is a reflection of her fear. She is afraid that if her heart still yearns for that person, then she will never get out of her own shadow…

And then, Caleb arrives…

His arrival is unexpected, like a twist of fate, and stirring up her still messed up life…

“Here you go…”

Speaking of the devil, Caleb is back with a tray full of drinks. Setting the tray on the table, Lilian is excited to take her frappe while the vampire lord sets the strawberry milk in front of Primrose.

“Caleb, you know how to read mind?”

“Excuse me?” he looks at the brunette, amused at her comment.

“You ordered Primrose’s favorite drink.”

Indeed it is, because the moment he sets the drink in front of her, those onyx eyes become wide open. What is the meaning of this? Why is her heart beating fast? Why did he choose this drink for her?

“Maybe it’s just a lucky guess.”

Caleb’s answer holds more meaning than just a few words coming out of his lips. He still remembers that she likes strawberry drinks a lot, a little detail that has always stuck in his mind, even after his erupt departure. It’s a small yet meaningful gesture, a silent note that Primrose has always been in his mind, whether they are together or not. The raven head turns bright red, a small act of affection, her mind runs through so many questions, trying to figure out his motives.

The young lord observes her reaction, hoping to imprint her adorable flustered face into his mind. She is uncomfortable, but there is also a fluffy air around her, a sign that she enjoys this drink very much. Knowing that he has caused her much stress today, Caleb takes the first step to back away, telling them that he has to go back to the hospital to retrieve his personal stuff.

“You’re not drinking with us?”

“Sorry Lilian, but maybe I can help you with your thesis tomorrow during lunch hour?”

“O-of course…”

There’s a disappointment in the brunette’s voice but she holds herself back from showing it on her face. While this meeting doesn’t go as well as she had hoped, it can be the first step to their connection. Lilian is way too determined to set Primrose up with Caleb, there is no way she will give up on this mission of hers.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.” his smile is warm as he turns to Primrose “My pleasure to meet you, Primrose.”

She raises her head, looking at him, and nods her head, unable to utter a single word. She should say thank you, showing her appreciation for the free drink she has, and maybe a little bit of gratitude for getting her favorite drink. But nothing comes out of her lips as she tries to speak, her voice betrays her, and stays silent, refusing to give any sound.

But Caleb still wears a warm smile and somehow she can even see a glimpse of happiness when she finally looks at him. When the young lord leaves, Primrose doesn’t feel at ease. She has thought that the stress will go with him, but no, she feels rather empty, a piece of her heart is taken away.

But why…?

************************************************************************ Caleb’s first step into the Vatore estate is welcomed by a warm yet cheeky smile from Kian. The way his lilac-colored eyes shine a mischievous light sends chills down Caleb’s spine. What is his brother-in-law planning?

“Welcome back Caleb!”

“Well, don’t you look happy? Something good happened recently?”

“You can say that. But it also relates to you too, brother.”

Caleb raises a brow, why is his brother-in-law mentioning him?

“Come, Lilith is waiting for both of us.”

Kian leads the way to the living room, where Lilith is sitting on the plush cushion of the sofa, her brown orbs twinkle in excitement when she sees her older brother entering the space. Butler Richard is standing near the coffee table, holding a folder.

“Welcome back, my lord.”

“Hello, Richard. And hello to you too, Lilith.” Caleb looks at his sister, skepticism fills his eyes “You all seem oddly excited…”

“Indeed we do, brother dear.”

Caleb is taken aback by the way Lilith calls him. Having been by her side for centuries, the young lord can pick up the odd vibe coming from her. He knows that she is planning something, Lilith has a habit of referring to him as ‘brother dear’ when she shares a plan that involves him.

“Lilith, what did you do?”

“Oh don’t say it like that, you make it seem like I’m nothing but a troublemaker.” she huffs, earning a chuckle from her husband who takes a seat next to her “Anyway, read this. Do you like this place?”

Butler Richard hands the document to Caleb and prepares some tea for everyone in the room. The vampire lord scans through the material, silver eyes widen at the material he is reading. It is a leasing contract with his name and signature written perfectly on the paper.

“What is the meaning of this?” he sets down the document, making sure that the forged signature is visible to everyone’s eyes “Who fakes my signature?”

Even without an answer, Caleb already knows who is the culprit behind this silly yet illegal prank. Lilith exhales and bites her bottom lips, trying to act as naturally as she possibly can. But her brother’s stern eyes make it very hard for her to maintain a calm and composed face, Caleb has never been a fan of this kind of forgery.

“The apartment you’re looking at right now is near San Myshuno’s Hospital, it will only take you 10 minutes to walk from there to your workplace.” Kian steps in, easing the tension with what he knows about the new apartment “You don’t have to drive for an hour to get to work, isn’t that amazing?”

“And what else? What is the big secret that I have yet to know?”

The pair flinches at their older brother’s question, such a high perceptive Caleb has, he always knows how to see a few steps ahead of the initial problem.

“Well, the apartment is also right next to Primrose Emberlynn’s place…”

“What?”

The look on Caleb’s face is a mixture of surprise and disappointment. Surprise when he hears her name, but also disappointed as he knows that his sister has been planning this without telling him.

“Lilith, what have you done?” he looks at his sister, wearing an I’m-very-disappointed-of-you-young-lady expression “No, how did you even do this?”

“I may have a few intel…”

The moment she trails off, Caleb knows what she is talking about. He has mixed feelings about this.

Is he proud?

Yes. Lilith demonstrates her investigation skills to the finest. As a defense attorney, the young woman has her hands on the database of almost everyone living underneath the sun. How she is able to find and locate Primrose’s apartment, he never wants to know.

Is he disappointed?

Yes. The fact that Lilith doesn’t disclose anything to him and conducts the investigation by herself, knowing very well how illegal her action is. What his beloved sister did is not just a regular case of invasion of privacy, she abuses her power as an attorney. If her clients knew about this, it would be the end of her career.

“Lilith…why?”

“I…well…” she clenches her jaw, not knowing how to respond. She turns to her husband, pleading for help.

“Don’t look at Kian, Lilith. This is serious. You’re exploiting your resource and using it for personal gain, that’s a crime…”

Tension rises in the air and Caleb’s stern eyes don’t make things easier for her. Lilith knows what she did is wrong, but she has a good reason. But no matter how valid her reason is, she knows that her brother would never allow her to do such a thing. He always tells her that the Vatore family is morally grounded and such action can not be accepted.

Butler Richard comes back with a tea tray and sets it down on the coffee table. Giving each member a cup of their own, he clears his voice, pulling the attention of everyone.

“Lord Caleb, it is unacceptable for Lady Lilith to do what she did, however, all of this only comes from the goodness of her heart.” he speaks up, his voice is warm and kind, like a father speaking to his kids “The apartment is in vacant, so it’s completely normal for a new tenant to come and rent the place. You just happen to be that new tenant, my lord.”

Caleb sighs, almost can not accept his trusted butler’s words. But then again, butler Richard has never been the type who holds onto idealistic morals like him. The man is the tipping scale of right and wrong, good and evil, and whatever he does is only for the best interest of House Vatore. It’s not surprising that he backs up Lilith and her actions.

Taking a sip of his tea, Caleb looks at the leasing contract again, this time, reading it carefully. The more time he invests in reading it, the more Lilith and Kian become relaxed, at least their brother is not lashing out at them, not that it’s Caleb’s nature to voice his opinion vocally. When he sets the document down on the table the second time, he looks at them, silver eyes staring right into their souls.

“Lilith!”

“Y-yes brother?” she flinches at his firm voice.

“You have to know that we as the Vatores don’t condone these acts of treachery. I know that this stems from good deeds, but I need you to promise me that you won’t do it again.”

“I…okay…” she lowers her head, almost too ashamed to look at him.

“For this apartment, given its circumstances, I can let it slide this time.” he sighs, finally giving in to his sister’s plan “However, can I trust you all with the matters of House Vatore?”

His words make her raise her head, surprised and delighted at the same time. As Lilith nods eagerly, Kian and Butler Richard both exhale, knowing the tension between them is slowly fading away.

“You don’t have to worry, Lord Caleb. I will ensure the safety of the estate while you’re gone.”

“And it’s not like you’re half a globe away from here, brother. It’s only an hour's driving, remember?” Kian chimes in, offering a lighthearted joke “A worthed one-hour drive.”

Caleb’s gaze softens, knowing the goodness of his family and how they want him to be happy. The tension is replaced by different opinions and perspectives on Caleb’s moving plan, as they continue their discussions, the young lord wonders how Primrose would react when she knows that he is her new neighbor…

#sims 4 #the sims 4 #ts4 #writeblr #my writing #fanfiction #creative writing #caleb vatore #my ocs #oc #in pursuit of the fragile heart #primrose emberlynn

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demonsandco · 3 years

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hi!! i was wondering if you could do a headcannon of the brothers + dia, barb and simeon reacting to mc asking if they could do it in their demon/angel forms?

I sure hope that by “demon form” you meant my version of their forms, because only after I finished writing, did I remember that they have canonical demon forms, too, woops! But Simeon doesn’t have a non-human form in-game so hopefully I was right gjhfkfjh

Lucifer : It’s a rare occurrence to see Lucifer speechless, yet somehow they’ve managed to stun him into silence with a single request. Being intimate in his demon form isn’t something that’s even crossed his mind before, not seeing his true form as anything more than a tool for intimidation. With too many eyes, elongated limbs, and crisscrossing scars highlighted by patches of missing feathers, he truly doesn’t understand what they see in him to pick that over his much more palatable, human form. Yet, despite his initial shock and hesitance, he can’t find it in him to deny their request. If they really want to see his true form, especially in such an intimate setting, then he’ll humor them, but the entire time he’s preparing himself for some sort of rejection, expecting them to flinch away from his touch or to ask him to switch back. He’s astonishingly vulnerable in this form, and craves a positive reaction from them.

(cont under the cut)

Mammon : When he hears their request, Mammon’s relief is palpable. Having sex in his human from has always felt distant to him, as though he were wearing a costume or a skin tight suit. He’s desperate to feel their hands on his demon form, often fantasising about how their hands would feel running across his wings or buried in his feathers, but, while he may have not so subtly hinted at his desires in the past, he’s never had the courage to initiate such a thing himself. He’s immensely excited about their request, so excited in fact that he’s prepared to stop whatever he was doing and drag them off to somewhere private to have his way with them. It also encourages him to spend more time in his demon form around them, now that he knows that it won’t scare them away.

Leviathan : Levi’s knee-jerk reaction is to say no right off the bat. As much as he trusts his partner, he can’t help but think that there’s some sort of ulterior motive behind the request, refusing to believe that anyone would actually want to see his demon form, much less touch it in such an intimate way. While his true form grants him confidence and immeasurable power, in a relationship, it becomes his biggest insecurity. It takes a lot of patience and encouragement to convince him to go through with it, and even then he’s hesitant to even touch them, worried that they’ll think he’s creepy or gross and change their mind. It doesn’t help that he’s practically useless on land and that they’d need to join him in the water to comfortably have sex. He’s understandably nervous, but praise and affection go a long way in easing his worries, and once he gets a taste of how nice it feels, he finds himself asking them to be intimate in his demon form more often.

Satan : Satan isn’t all that surprised by their request. In fact, he’d been expecting it to come up sooner or later. After all, he wants to know every intimate detail about his partner, to see them in their most vulnerable state, so he assumes that they’d eventually want to get to know his true form intimately, as well. He feels some anxiety, of course, his demon form not exactly being human friendly, all rough skin and sharp edges, but he does a good job at keeping his fears at bay and enjoying the moment. It feels freeing, in a way, to have them accept him so readily, to allow something as monstrous as him so close in such a vulnerable moment. With every soft touch of their hands and kiss from their lips, he finds himself falling in love all over again. He craves their acceptance, and the fact that they can see him at his worst and still show him love speaks volumes.

Asmodeus : As much as he wants to tease his partner for having such a lewd suggestion, or to think of it as a chance to introduce them to something new and pleasurable, the only thing Asmo feels at their request is genuine fear. There is very little that he’s afraid of, but the idea of them rejecting him is terrifying, and he’s convinced himself that no one could possibly love him if they saw his true form. He’s very calculated in what parts of his demon form he lets people see, making sure he looks cute and unassuming at all times. He has no problems showing those parts of him to his partner, but the rest of his demon form isn’t anywhere near as cutesy, and he doesn’t want them to associate him with such an “ugly” appearance. Yet at the same time, he wants to be able to be himself around them, to have them see the parts of him that he’s kept hidden. It takes a lot of worry and hesitation, before he finally shows them his true form during sex, the shared lust giving him the push he needed. He’s so prepared for a negative response that their positive reaction is enough to make him melt against them.

Beelzebub : It’s not uncommon for Beel to be seen in a not quite human form around the house, his wings and horns unconsciously coming out while he eats or works out. Knowing this, he’s surprised that his partner has seen those parts of him and instead of being scared, they want to see more. He’s not the type of person to hide who he is to make himself more palatable. He trusts them to know what they want, and he takes their request at face value. At first, he didn’t think too much of it, but the moment he feels them touch his true form, watches them search for his most sensitive areas, he becomes addicted to the feeling. The fact that he’s even bigger than normal in this form excites him more than he thought it would, too, his massive frame making his partner seem tiny in comparison. Needless to say, he finds himself letting his demon form out during sex more often, both because he wants to feel their touch again and because he finds it more comfortable.

Belphegor : Belphie is genuinely surprised that they’d want anything to do with his demon form after how badly things went the first time they saw it. Hearing that they not only want to see it again, but that they want to see it in such a vulnerable moment is a relief to him. He’s always thought that actions speak louder than words, and he sees their request as a sign of trust, something he values greatly. He’s more than happy to show them his demon form, to let them explore his body and create new, much more enjoyable, memories. He also takes it as an invitation to show his demon form more often, taking every opportunity he can to let out his horns as he cuddles up to them or conveniently resting his tail within petting range. Now that he knows they’re not scared of his appearance, he wants them to associate his form with positive and intimate moments.

Diavolo : Diavolo is positively ecstatic to hear their request! He’s wanted to don his true form while being intimate with them since the start of their relationship, but he’s held back out of worry, not wanting to risk frightening them. Truthfully, he’s not too fond of maintaining a human appearance for so long, and he’s almost too excited to let out his demonic features. Hopefully, they had nothing else planned for the day, because he’s already got them wrapped up in his many wings, with his scaly face pressed against their neck. He plans to take his time with them, practically acting as though it was their first time together again, treating them like a priceless treasure in his clawed grasp, showing them everything he can do in his true form that a human could never hope to accomplish.

Barbatos : Barbatos has been waiting for them to ask this for quite a while, and he can’t keep the small smile off his face when they finally do. While he’s perfectly comfortable in his human form, he feels as though it greatly limits his abilities in the bedroom, and he hates to think that he’s not pleasing them to the best of his abilities. He knows that his true form isn’t something a human would be used to, though, so he waited until they were confident enough to bring it up themselves. He sees it as taking the next step in their relationship in a way, knowing that they not only are willing to accept him for what he is, but that they embrace it. With his extra limbs, slick tail and long, powerful tongue, he’s more than happy to show them how much more skilled he is at servicing them in this form, and he’s also surprised to realise just how sensitive his demonic appendages are.

Simeon : It’s rare for Simeon to feel the need to turn his partner down, but he finds himself initially denying their request when they first ask, coming up with some half baked excuses in an attempt to avoid hurting their feelings. Humans never seem to react well to an angel’s true form and he can’t bear to see them regard him with fear, especially not during such an intimate moment. While his angelic appearance may not be as monstrous as a demons, the extra limbs, many eyes and inhumanly tall frame are more than enough to make him look rather disconcerting. Yet at the same time, he doesn’t like the thought of hiding his true form from them, leaving him conflicted. With enough reassurance, he eventually feels comfortable enough showing them bits and pieces of his angel form at a time, and each night they spend together his human form slips away a bit more. At first it’s just his wings, letting his partner run their hands over his sensitive feathers and getting used to the extra limbs, before slowly showing them more of him. Soon enough, he reaches a point where letting out his angel form around them is like a habit, feeling like it makes their time spent together feel more intimate, especially now that he knows his looks alone won’t scare them away.

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #rip sol he's just a regular ol human #angel form #demon form #obey me headcanons #lime time

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seospicybin · 2 years

Text

BLUEPRINT.

PART II

Lee Know x reader. (s,f)

Chapters: Part I

Synopsis: You never worked with a partner before but when it involves the importance of your future, you willing to put up working with Minho. (10,5k words)

Minho likes being competitive.

He likes the challenge, the rush that comes with it, to prove himself that he is the best at what he does and ultimately, winning, fair and square.

Just like today, he got called to represent his firm for a chance to design a building for an art foundation. What got him interested was, there would be two other firms that joined in on the project but there would be only one that got selected.

He smirked as he got into the elevator, feeling confident about this project. When he entered the conference room, there were only a group of people on one side of the seat, and he asked his co=worker about his competitors.

The one sitting across from him was from a firm that is specialized in neo-futurist architecture and the other, the one that got late into the meeting specialized in a post-modern architecture that prioritizes environmentally friendly and sustainable buildings.

Ten minutes into the meeting, the other firm finally arrived and took their seats next to his, and Minho didn't bother to look at them, they were already made a bad first impression on him.

Minho wrote down everything the client requested for the design and jotted down side notes on what went through his mind as he listened to the brief.

They announced the end date for the firms to submit their designs, and everyone got up from their seats as soon as the meeting ended. For a second, Minho caught a familiar face but maybe he mistook it for someone he knew.

When he arrived in the main lobby though, he knew he was right about what he just saw earlier the moment he spotted you.

Standing in the crowded lobby, clutching your handbag with both hands in front of you and looking at him with a smile that rose on your face like a blooming flower.

Without he intended to, his feet took him to you until he was close enough to see and make sure it was you.

"So, here we are!" You said to him, looking into his eyes and flashing him a knowing smile.

There was so much he wanted to say to you after your long absence in his life, but he stood there in front of you, tongue-tied and nonplussed.

"I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me, huh?" You poked fun at him with a sly grin.

It was actually the opposite, he was ecstatic to see you again after a long time, after two terrible years to be precise.

He softly laughed, aware that his jaws had been hung open for quite some time now.

"Yeah," he finally answered, tried not to stutter but failing.

You looked over your shoulder and saw your co-workers were waiting for you outside since the car had pulled up out front.

"Nice to see you again, I guess?" you said to him, his silence made you think that he wasn't that enthusiastic about meeting you again.

Minho called for your name when you walked away, "and you're going to leave just like that?" He asked.

You softly chuckled without stopping, slightly turned your head at him, "You know where to find me now," you told him and exited the building.

Minho felt stupid that the moment he had been hoping to come true happened just like that, he should've asked for your number or invited you for a lunch, even better, a dinner date.

But all he did was stood there and watched you leave like two years ago.

"Just take it," you said to him as he stood in front of you, right outside your house after him explaining how he ended up receiving the job offer from the firm just like Professor Shin had promised him.

After a month of not seeing you after the project, he finally got to meet you again even though he had to wait outside your house.

"I can't take it," he refused.

You laughed at him, "you know what I hate more than losing?" You asked him.

"People making me feel like a sore loser," you answered.

Minho blamed himself for making you feel being pitied by him, all he could think about was how didn’t deserve this because a part of this was also yours.

"You worked hard on this, so you deserve it," you told him as if you saw through his weary mind.

"I'm sorry-"

"Stop apologizing!" You cut him off, "I told you, none of this is our fault," you assured him.

There was something else he wanted to address that day but he didn’t know where to start, about that night and how you disappeared the next morning.

"I guess there's nothing to talk about," you suddenly said.

All the words he was trying to convey vanished when he looked at you and your hand that lingered on the handle of the gate.

"Good luck, Minho!" You told him with a smile.

Minho sighed, having so many things to say and running out of time to say it.

"Thanks," he muttered to you before you closed the gate of the house.

But this time, it would be different.

He would try harder, do better and compete in all fairness with you.

Someone pointed him to your desk when he came to your office during his lunch break. He spotted it right away from the candy jar on the desk, but no one sat on the chair.

He looked around and asked someone who sat nearby, "She's in a meeting and will be back in a few minutes," he said.

Minho shrugged and sat on your chair, looking at your desk cluttered with so many things and little notes sticking to your computer screen for upcoming appointments.

He took one of your candies and reclined on the seat, opening the candy wrapper.

"Going behind enemy line, I see," you remarked from behind him.

He swiveled his chair and shoved the candy into his mouth, then smirked, "I need to know their valuable asset,"

"And did you find out already?" You asked him as you set your laptop down the desk.

"Right in front of me," he said.

"What are you going to do then?"

"Try to steal it, of course!" He said with a flirty wink at the end.

You scoffed then leaned against the desk, folding your arms in front of you. Everyone knew who he was, and they were watching you with eagle eyes.

"Let me take you out for lunch," he said, looking up at you through his dark, thick lashes.

"I just had lunch," you told him.

"Dinner then?"

"I already have a plan for tonight,"

"How about tomorrow?"

You softly laughed, "you're relentless,"

He shrugged as if proud of his trait.

"Let's have coffee, I have a little time to spare," you said to him.

Minho was disappointed that you could only spare a little time for him when he wanted a lot from you. But this was a good start for him, he waited by the table as you brought his cup of coffee to the table.

"So, what brings you here?" You asked him.

This was what he likes about you, you were straightforward, you couldn't stand chitchat cause that was just a waste of time for you.

"That I'm going to play fair this time," he said.

"And is that supposed to scare me?" You asked as you sipped your coffee.

"I must be stupid to think that I can scare you," he said.

You tipped your head to the side and smirked at him.

"What I'm telling you is I'm glad we got to do it again," he sincerely said, "I'm sad that we're not in the same team, but I think you know why I'm glad," he explained.

You understood, of course, it was a way for him to prove himself, that he could succeed by himself and that he deserved it.

"Yes," you responded.

This was why it interests you, joined this project knowing that he would be a part of it, and you had just as much to prove as him, to prove yourself.

"And also, I want to continue what we had last time," he added, eyes intensely looking at you.

"And what's that?" You teased his words back to him.

"It takes two to figure it out," he answered.

You smiled, tried to suppress the recollections of that night with him, and quickly took another sip of your coffee.

"Good luck then," you said to him, then got up from your seat.

"For what?" He asked.

"Everything, I guess," you half-heartedly said.

Minho snorted because it was exactly what you said two years ago to him then got up from his chair.

"I can't wait to see what you can do," he said it no in a condescending way, he knew well enough that you are capable of great things.

You lowly chuckled, "but it seems like you have to wait to do that," you said.

He looked at you, at your face that he missed seeing, the eyes that filled with so much wonder and curiosity with your head slightly tilted to the side you just like you did to him that very second.

He found it very endearing, but your lips were what captivated him most, he could imagine the softness of it just by looking at it.

"Bye Minho," You said to him, then headed to the elevator that would take you back to your office.

It was nice hearing his name through your mouth, like listening to his favorite song he hadn't listened to in a long time.

As he exited the building and took a taxi back to his firm, he thought of so many things, this time he put everything on the line in the hope to get everything back to him, which included winning you back.

Turned out, it wasn't easy.

Minho walked into a restaurant with his co-workers for a team dinner, something to motivate his team to work harder on this project.

And he noticed you were also there but you were already finished and were paying for your dinner, with a guy much older than you.

Minho couldn't help himself, he followed you outside, to the front of the restaurant, and called for you.

You turned on your heels with a hand lightly holding his arm by the sleeve of his coat.

"Oh, hi," you exclaimed when you saw him there.

You looked over his shoulder and saw his co-workers waiting inside, "I see you come with your team," you said.

"Yeah," he responded, but his eyes were looking at the guy sitting in front of you.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers in a defensive way.

"So this is your plan for tonight," he said, he meant to say it lightly, not to sound bitter.

You watched as Minho looked intensely stared at him while the guy looked back at him, completely fazed by it.

You snorted, "this is my brother-in-law," you quickly added.

Minho's stare instantly softened that he let out a short sigh then smiled, "nice to meet you," he finally responded.

"Nice to meet you," your brother-in-law said to him.

He got flustered that Minho's ears turned red, and it was getting awkward with every passing second.

"I'd better get inside," he announced.

"Yeah, you'd better be," you said back to him, half-laughing.

He smiled as he walked inside, feeling so embarrassed by his own doing.

And he started to think that was why you kept refusing on going on dinner with him. He relentlessly called for you, texted you, and ultimately, came to your office again because he couldn't stay still knowing that you might be out with some other guy that wasn't your brother-in-law.

You were still working while most of the people had left for the day, sitting on your desk, reading something while biting the end of your pencil between your teeth.

Minho put down a paper bag on your desk in front of you that got you slightly startled to see him there.

He didn't say anything but pulled out a small jar of your favorite blue raspberry candies in front of you.

He smirked as he presented it to you, knowing that he got your weak spot. He pulled one candy out and held it out on his palm at you, "come and have dinner with me," he said to you.

You smiled with your teeth faintly biting your lower lip, "Can't you see? I'm busy," you said to him.

He took your hand and put the candy on your palm, "I take no excuses," he said then took your purse and coat with him.

You swiveled on your chair, laughed at his persistence that you had no other option but to submit to his wish.

"This is not playing hard to get," he said as he looked at you sitting in front of him on the table, twirling your pasta with your fork, "you're avoiding me," he stated.

"If you're not yet aware, we're technically not in a team mode here," you responded and shoved a spoonful of pasta into your mouth.

"Just because we're not in the same team doesn't mean we're not allowed to be civil with each other," he cheekily responded.

"This is more than civil," you added.

"And I admit that," he shamelessly said, then sipped his wine.

"That's because you make one charming enemy. I could fall for your tricks any time," he added.

"Then why are we here?"

"Because I fall for your charms," he shortly replied as he continued cutting his steak.

"And why is that?"

"Because I got myself into you, you don't even have to pull any tricks on me. You can be cruel to me, I'm a fool for you," he answered, eyes locked with yours.

"And also," he slyly grinned before he finished his sentence, "sleeping with the enemy is hot,"

Your hand held your wine glass by its stem, "I think sleeping with the enemy is something I'd definitely not do," you remarked.

"And why?"

You shrugged, "I would never let my guard down," you replied.

Minho knew exactly that you were the type to keep your guard high, not letting anyone in unless you were sure that someone was trustworthy enough to know your weaknesses.

You did it to him once, and that made him believe he could do it again, not to do a harm to it, but to help you protect what he had seen in you: your true, genuine self, your pure compassion, and principles you firmly stood on.

That was what makes you stand up among other people, that what makes you special to him, that what makes him want you more.

Minho got out of the car as soon as he saw you unbuckled your safety belt, so he could open the car door for you.

You lowly chuckled when he offered you his hand to help you get out of his car, "thank you," you muttered to him.

"You still live alone," he said, seeing that your house was dark like it used to whenever he drove you home two years ago.

"My sister lives with his husband now," you said to him and closed the car door behind you, "so yeah, I have the house to myself,"

"Can I come in then?" He asked you with a lopsided grin.

"Try again next time," you said to him.

You leaned in and gently kissed him on the cheek, "thank you for dinner," you muttered as you pulled away.

"A kiss on the cheek?" He asked in disbelief, shook his head, then pulled you close by putting a hand around your waist.

He leaned in close, "you know I need more than that," he said, then kissed you on the lips.

Once he got the taste of it, he couldn't settle with one or two kisses, he drew you closer, putting a hand on the nape of your neck and angling your head to deepen the kiss.

Body pushed you backward until your back hit the cold metal of your house gate, pinned you against his that made you give in, holding him back while clutching your purse in one hand.

You broke the kiss to catch a breath, but he moved his lips down the column of your throat, "Minho, it's getting cold," you said to him.

"Then we should get in," he responded, lips grazing your earlobe as he spoke.

You softly giggled as he tilted your head upward, allowing him to savor your neck with kisses and gentle bites.

"Nice try," you said to him.

You lifted his head and kissed him this time.

It took him by a surprise that you would kiss him this way, so tenderly with your hand slipped in his hair that he believed you knew how he likes it when you do that.

Your kisses were light and lovely, like a gust of warm breeze in a winter night but passed too soon.

You slowly pushed him away, "I'm cold," you admitted.

And he noticed your cheeks redden from the cold, and when he took your hands in his, they were freezing that he immediately brought them close to his mouth and blew warm breath on them.

"Get inside," he told you, no matter how much he hated to say this.

"Okay," you said, then unlocked the gate of your house, swung the gate open but not getting in yet.

"Goodnight, Minho," you said to him.

"Goodnight," he said back.

He stepped back then walked back into his car.

He waited until all the lights in your house turned on and made sure you were safely back inside your house before driving away with the thought that even though you didn't let him in yet, didn't mean that it was impossible to do, you just need more time, and he was willing to give you as much as you want.

You worth the wait, the patience, you worth everything he has in him.

Winning is great.

That's for sure.

But as you got older, you realized that you learned more from losing. You learned how to keep going.

When you parted ways with Minho two years ago, you took it as a starting point to finally learn from losing and started again carrying that knowledge.

When you met Minho again though, you weren't sure you wanted to start over. He kept reminding you of your failure, what you lost, how your hard work went to a waste, the iniquity of it all.

You didn't want to see him again because of that.

When you kissed him that night, you realized that he was the only good thing that came out of that hardship.

Also, it wasn't fair to Minho, he didn't do anything wrong, he was innocent, collateral damage.

Maybe it was time for you to try, you told yourself as you entered his firm and asked the lady behind the front desk that you wanted to see him.

Minho was meeting a client, and you were told to wait in his office, you kept glancing at your wristwatch because you didn't have much time and had to get back to your office soon.

Minho came a while later, smiling at the sight of you, a delightful surprise that he didn't see coming.

"Such a sight for sore eyes," he said with a dreamy sigh.

"I can say the same for your office," you said to him, it was a nice office, spacious with a breathtaking view of the city.

He walked up to you, stopped just a step away from you, "you came here," he said, his words tinted with disbelief.

"I had a meeting near your office, so I decided to stop by," you explained.

With his height, he towered above you, looking down at you with his dark brown eyes.

"And coffee!" You pointed to the cups of coffee you brought with you on the table.

Someone came trudging into his office and interrupted you both, "I am sorry but I need you..." the man's eyes shifted from him to you, "hey, I think I know you," he said to you.

"I think so too, yeah," you said to him with a courteous smile.

You glanced down at your wristwatch again, "I'm sorry, but I have to go," you told Minho, then picked up your bag and coat on the chair.

Minho got confused with the situation that created a lot of questions in his head.

"But we haven't-"

"I'll make sure to visit again," you said to him, flashing a smile to the other guy on your way out.

On your way back to your firm, you were sure Minho would ask how did you know that guy in his office. You were never the type to explain useless things like that but you got the urge to explain everything to him, you didn't know why, you just did.

Work kept you busy, and you only had time to visit him a few days later, you clocked out early to drop by his firm before going home.

When you arrived at his floor, it was almost empty except for the one in his department, where everyone gathered at the long table and talked.

You stepped closer to ask for Minho but overheard their conversation instead.

You got upset once you realized they were talking about Minho and you, and your little quarrel back in college and how you failed to get accepted in the firm, they thought that was why you kept coming to his office and probably trying to steal his design.

You scoffed and couldn't lie but got upset at their last accusation that was taken out of context, "excuse me!" You said to them.

And they abruptly stopped talking, nervously smiled at you.

"I never plan to-"

Minho suddenly appeared from behind you and cut you off, "what makes you guys so sure she came here to steal my design? Well, I guess you don't know what she's capable of," he snapped.

"If you talk ill about her again, I'll take that personally," he finished, looking at his coworkers one by one in the eyes that they looked down and got quiet.

He pulled your hand and took you to his office, "I'm sorry that you need to hear that," he said to you as he shut the blinds of his office to get some privacy.

You sighed and gripped the handle of your bag so tight your knuckles turned white, "I told you, I hate it when people make me feel like I'm a sore loser," you said to him.

Minho came up to you, "I'm not. I'm just telling the truth," he said.

"Yeah, the truth that you won and I lost,"

Minho's eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion, "why you make it seem like it was only about you losing and me winning? You said it yourself, that none of this was our fault," he told you, almost running out of breath at the end of the sentence.

"Sure, but the way you have to explain everything to them," you paused to catch a deep breath, "I can take care of myself, but of course, you had to come and save me," you scoffed.

Minho got quiet, he knew it was wrong for him to do that, not letting you handle it. He regretted stepping in your battle.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

"Forget it," you said to him, "I don't even know why I'm here," you headed for the door, but he stopped you, putting a hand around you to stop you on your track.

"I will not let you leave this time," he said to you, holding you back from leaving.

"Minho, let me go," you sternly said to him.

"No," he sternly said back to you.

You sighed and slouched your shoulders against his back, "stop pitying me," you sadly said.

He tightened his hold around you and put another hand across your chest, "you know what I have for you is not pity," he said to you.

You knew he was telling the truth, he cared for you, that was why he did what he did.

"Did you date someone else in these past two years?" He suddenly said, changing the topic.

"Did you meet someone and fall in love?" He asked again.

"Did he treat you better?"

You took his hands off of you and turned around to face him, looking at his face with a layer of sadness on it.

"Was he better than me?" He asked again.

"If this is it about the other day, he was just someone I went on a date once," you said even though you didn't know why you felt obligated to explain.

He nodded and licked his lips, "I know," he answered.

"But is there someone else?" He asked again as if the answer would please him.

You shook your head, "no one else," you answered.

He pulled you into a hug and held you so tight as if you would vanish if he didn't. He sighed repeatedly, relieved and enlightened, he raked your hair with his fingers and drank your scent.

He tilted your head with his fingers under your chin, "I'll be miserable if I can't have you," he said, then pressed a kiss on your lips.

You let your bag drop onto the floor and slipped your hands under his suit jacket and on his warm-clothed body, returning his kiss with the same enthusiasm.

Minho ran his hands down to the back of your thighs and hoisted your body against him, steered both of your bodies to his desk, then sat you down on the desk.

He let go of the kiss, placed his hands around your neck, and softly rubbed your jaw with his thumb, "you're so hot when you're mad," he said with a sly smirk.

You rolled your eyes, "should I stay mad at you, then?" You teased.

"You're always hot to me nonetheless," he said while running a thumb over your lips.

"But when you're mad," he hissed, "so, so hot," then brought his lips on you again.

With his lips almost touching yours, you pushed him away from you, and he staggered backward, "fuck you, Minho," you said to him.

"Huh? why? What happened?" He asked, baffled at the turn of the event.

"Fuck you!" You cursed out loud, loud enough for anyone outside the office to hear.

You got off his desk and walked up to him, "Fuck you! I Didn't steal your design!" You shouted at him.

He stood there frozen on his feet, "I didn't say you steal it," he said.

You pushed him until his back hit the wall and made a soft thudding sound.

"You fucking incompetent piece of shit! Why would I steal from you?" You snapped at him, index finger stabbed his chest for every word you enunciated.

He put your hand away, but you were quick to fist the front of his shirt, "Why? Didn't you say you like seeing me mad?" You asked him.

Minho smirked almost devilishly.

He pulled your body and had you pinned to the wall this time, pressing his weight against yours, "And you think you're better than me?" He shouted back at you in a mocking tone, intentionally loud for everyone else to hear.

"You have so much to prove, huh?" He asked with a wicked smile.

"I'm going to win this time," you said to him, grabbing his shirt by its collar.

"You'd better get your big mouth shut for that!" He said, then pressed a haste kiss on you.

A kiss that made both of you thrash around the room, wreaking havoc in his office, your shoes fell off your feet as he lifted your body and sat you back on the desk.

His hand impatiently went under your skirt to palm your clothed core, so warm and delicate under his touch.

"Fuck," he muttered against your lips, "I want you so much,"

He aggressively inserted his fingers inside your underwear to touch the delicate flesh of your cunt, to see how wet you were for him.

Your hands went to unbuckle his belt and fumbled to open the button that Minho eventually helped you with it, pulled out his erection from his underwear.

You wrapped your hand around his length and gently pumped his length.

You reclined on the desk with a hand propped under you, lifted your legs, and pulled the hem of your skirt until it scrunched up around your hips, all while your eyes fixated on his, just like the sight wasn't tantalizing enough, you spread your legs wide for him.

A lopsided grin bloomed on his face, he felt challenged by you, you pushed just the right button. He put your underwear to the side, exposing your gushing wet hole that he immediately inserted his fingers.

You intentionally clenched around his fingers to give him a taste of what was coming.

"Oh fuck," he groaned.

"I can't wait anymore," he said to you, then dragged your body closer, he wet the tip of his cock with your arousal to finally push his length inside.

You hooked your legs around his waist, and with your heels, you pressed his ass, sending him deeper inside you.

He let out a loud groan that you quickly slush him away, "you want everyone to hear, huh?"

He shook his head with jaws clenched, "I don't care," he said to you.

You intentionally clenched, tightened the muscles around him, and successfully earned another loud groan from him that he quickly muffled by pressing his lips together.

"And you said you don't care," you sneered.

He ignored your taunt and began moving, eyes fixated on where his cock going in and out of you. He wondered how you managed to still calm with this overwhelming pleasure, that only made him want to ruin you more, making you a moaning mess on his office desk.

It was him who had a hard time containing his grunts.

"You left the door unlocked, Minho," you taunted him, "someone can walk in on us,"

He pulled you by your neck to sink his mouth on yours as a way to muffle the noises he made.

"You want to let them see you fucking me on your desk?" You asked into his ear.

The more you taunted him, the more aroused he got that his thrusts started to get sloppy.

"Let them see you fucking an enemy?" You taunted him more.

Minho accidentally sucked on your neck so hard as he climaxed, cumming inside you, and gripped the back of your thigh so hard you were sure it would create a mark on the skin. He gave you a slobbering kiss that landed on the corner of your mouth.

"I hate to remind you, but your coworkers are right outside," you reminded him as he pecked your lips repeatedly.

He let go of your lips with a gasp, then looked at your face, "I still want to be inside you," he said to you.

"I'm so full of you right now," you softly whined.

"And I want to keep it that way," he said to you with a dreamy smile.

After gaining his composure back, Minho slowly pulled out of you, his cock had softened and wet from both of your arousals.

He quickly pushed all the cum leaking out of your hole back inside and put your underwear back to its place, softly palming your clothed cunt as he placed a kiss on you.

He pulled up his trousers and buckled his belt back, tucking his shirt inside, and you helped him fix the collar of his shirt.

You got off the table and collected your shoes on the floor, then sat on the headrest of the sofa to put them on, roughly combed your hair next with your fingers after.

Minho noticed the blooming mark on your neck and helped you cover it with your hair.

Minho picked up your bag and handed it to you.

"Don't follow me out of the door," you ordered as you buttoned your coat.

"Why?"

"Because I'm still mad at you," you sharply said.

Minho softly laughed and hugged you from the back, "then I won't let you go until you're not mad anymore,"

You broke out of his hug and turned around, "try me!" You said to him, then got out the door.

You kept walking without looking at his coworkers who were probably wondering what just happened inside.

Minho beat you up to push the elevator to pick you up on his floor, his hair slightly tousled and a sly smirk plastered on his face.

You stood next to each other as you watched the number of the floor change as the elevator went down the building.

"We're supposed to be still mad at each other," you reminded him.

"Why would I still be mad at you?" he asked.

"You're dripping down my thighs," you said to him without turning your head at him.

He didn't reply but shot you a smirk.

The elevator dinged when it arrived, and its door slid open, Minho followed you inside but stayed in its doorway, grabbed you by your elbow, moved his hand to your neck, "be careful," he said to you.

"Goodnight," he added, then gave your lips a quick peck.

He stepped away and let the elevator door slide shut, disappeared behind the chamber.

And you got a taste of what it felt like when you closed the gate of your house at him.

The deadline was less than two weeks away, your mind had been occupied with work and more work, even when you were resting at home you felt bad for it, wasting the time you could have spent on working.

You knew this side of yourself, once you were into something, you put your everything on it, you either go all in or nothing, never do it half-heartedly.

You were getting back from a team meeting when you saw Minho had been waiting on your desk.

It was the only good thing that happened that day, the smile he gave you as you made your way to him.

"Come with me," you ordered.

You took him to the balcony where employees go to to have a cigarette smoke between works, there was a little garden and a few benches to sit on, you sat on the one that face the city view.

You sighed, feeling good for taking a little break after tirelessly working for hours.

"I see that you're busy," he said to you.

"Aren't you should be busy too?"

He sighed, "yeah,"

"But I want to see you," he added.

You reclined on the bench and rested your head on his shoulder, it felt nice to rely on someone even for a fleeting moment.

Minho put an arm around you, making you feel embraced.

"Minho, we can't keep doing this," you said to him.

"Doing what?"

"Keep seeing each other," you answered.

"The deadline is nearing, and I don't have time to focus on something else," you explained.

"That I agree," he said while rubbing your shoulder.

"You know that once I'm starting something, I will put everything in me into it," you furtherly explained.

"I know," he nodded in acknowledgment.

Minho sighed, he understood what you meant, that he shouldn't be seeing you and vice versa, and that both of you should put your focus on the project.

"I will stop seeing you," he said to you.

"Thank you," you muttered.

"Only until the deadline," he said to you, shot you a playful smirk, "when the deadline ends, you can't stop me from seeing you,"

You closed your eyes and chuckled, "unbelievable!" You breathlessly muttered.

You stayed like that for a moment, just enjoying each other’s company in between chaotic hours of work.

It was hard for Minho not to see you for a while, it was even harder to part with you and not be able to kiss you, or just held your hand.

It was the right thing to do.

Minho also had a hard time focusing on work when his head was filled with you. At least not seeing you, helped him put all of his attention on it, working and doing his best to get the best outcome.

It wasn't hard to find his motivation back, to win, to prove himself, to be acknowledged for what he do best.

When the work took its toll on him, that was when he needed you.

He drove to your house after getting off late from work and rang your doorbell. It took you a while to open the gate and find him there, eyes shrunken in exhaustion like the life was sucked out of him.

"I thought we agreed not to-"

Without letting you finish your sentence, he put his hands around you and held you close, melted into your arms that made his worries evaporate into thin air.

"I know," he mumbled.

"I need to see you," he said to you.

He sounded so worn out that you felt bad for stopping him, you held him back instead, slipping your hands underneath his coat and putting your hand on his back.

Minho put his coat around you, enveloping both of your bodies in his coat, and stayed like that, in the quiet of the night except for the constant buzzing sound of the streetlight shining down on you.

"I miss you so much," he said at your face with eyes closed as if it was painful to admit it.

And you couldn't deny the fact that you missed him too: his smart mouth, his sly smirks, his intense gaze, his presence in your life that made your life a little easier, whole and content.

You tilted your head up at him and looked into his eyes, which overflowed with so much warmth and affection for you.

"I miss you too," you said back.

Minho smiled and pressed a sweet kiss on your lips that made the mounting misery of not seeing you disappear in a second.

"You want to come in?" You asked him.

Minho would say yes right away if he hadn't promised you.

He shook his head even though he had been dying for you to invite him in, "I'll be a gentleman and wait until the deadline ends," he answered.

You nodded, "Correct answer!"

He jerked his head back, "wait, that was a test isn't it?" He asked.

You shrugged.

"And I passed?"

You shrugged again.

He groaned while you chuckled at him, he tightened his hold around you, pecked on your lips, and kissed you to get as much taste of it to last him until he could see you again.

"You'd better get back inside, it's freezing," he said to you.

"Okay," you said.

He reluctantly put his hands away from you and let you step out of his hug, watched you get inside the gate, and said, "Goodnight!"

"Goodnight!" He said back.

He stood there for a moment to relish the feeling of having you around him. He just realized how much your presence meant to him, like breathing a new life into him, making him want to do better and better.

Only a few days away, he said to himself. A few nights of sleep away then he'll be able to see you as much as he wanted, and at that moment, Minho's goal slightly changed, not to win but to have you back.

A day before the deadline, you came by his office and it puzzled him because it was so unlike you to break your promise. He saw you waiting by the lounge, sitting on the single sofa in the corner of the room with your purse on your lap.

"Hey," he greeted as he sat on the sofa across from you, "I didn't expect to see you today. Deadline is tomorrow," he said.

You smiled at him, "last-minute enemy intrusion," you joked.

"Let me get you a cup of coffee," he offered.

"No, please," you kindly refused, "I won't be long," you added.

He sat back down, took your hand, and clasped it with his, "what is it?" He asked, in slight concern.

You licked your lips and looked into his eyes that stared back at you with so much anticipation, "I just came back from turning in my design," you began, "I had to do an early presentation because I have to leave for a business trip,"

The smile on his face slowly faded, "you're going to leave me, are you? Like two years ago," he asked, squeezing your hand and clasped it tighter around his.

You softly smiled, "why would I bother telling you if I'm going to leave you?" you said.

Minho leaned forward on his seat, propped his elbows on his knees, "don't leave!" He sadly said.

"I'll only leave for a week," you said to him, rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb.

"And you come here to tell me that?" He asked.

Minho couldn't hide his gleeful smiles, feeling giddy because it felt like he had just unlocked a new level in the relationship.

You shook your head, "I come here to say good luck!"

He chuckled, couldn't contain his glee anymore.

"Cause you seem to really need it," you added with eyes squinted at him, "a lot,"

He burst out laughing and hissed, "you really do come to break my spirit, huh?"

You shrugged and subtly smirked at him.

He walked you until you were both outside his firm, hailed a taxi for you. Knowing that you would be out of reach for a few days, he grabbed your hand, not letting you in the taxi yet, taking a look at you, and got the urge to touch you, but he knew you wouldn't like that.

He looked at you for a while with a hand squeezed your elbow, "gosh, I want to kiss you so much," he muttered under his breath.

You softly smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips, "Good luck!" You said to him again then got in the back of the taxi.

After your taxi had left, Minho stood there still reeling from the kiss you just gave him, out in the open, with people walking around the firm, in the middle of the day.

One kiss was all it took to get him through the day but not enough to last until the day you come back.

He turned in the design and gave a presentation on the following day, he felt relieved because he put his best into it and that he regretted nothing, no matter what the outcome would be.

All he could think about was you.

How he missed you.

How badly he needed to hold you to melt his weariness away.

When he came to the office the following week, people cheered for him and it got him questioning himself.

Everyone seemed to know that it would be him just like they expected, his design got selected, in other words, he won it, he proved himself, he reached his goal.

As everyone celebrated his achievement, he got this feeling tugged in his chest, he should be happy about his winning, but why it didn't excite him like he thought it would.

What is winning without someone to share it? Someone who knew the struggle, the pain that came by sacrificing everything on it, and gave him the support he never knew he needed.

When everyone left for the day, Minho sat on his chair and looked out of his window in his office.

Celebrating his winning on his own and the burden that went away with it. Winning wasn't always about gaining, it was also about losing.

His cellphone rang on his desk, and he picked it up.

"Congratulations!" That was the first word you said to him s soon as he picked up.

He smiled knowing that it was you, "Thank you," he said, he wasn't exactly feeling grateful for beating you but he knew how you hated being treated like a sore loser.

"I miss you! Come back already!" He muttered, he needed you more than being acknowledged for his achievement.

"Why? Are you going to treat this loser for some drinks?" You playfully asked through the phone.

"You are anything but a loser," he told you.

"And yes, I'll bring a bottle,"

You lightly chuckled, "Then come down!"

"Huh?"

"I'll be waiting by your car," you said.

Minho jolted on his seat and sat up straight, "you're here?"

"Don't make me wait too long, Minho," you gave him a vague answer.

Minho frantically gathered his things around his office and punched the button on the elevator as if it would get him down faster.

When the door slid open, he broke into a jog and went to where he parked his car with you leaning against the side of the car.

His heart burst with happiness like he just received his real prize for winning.

He ran to you and crashed himself with you, hugged you and lifted you off of your feet, held you in the air for a moment before putting you back down.

You opened your mouth to speak but he was quick to shut you up with a kiss, a titillating kiss that conveyed how much he misses you.

"Let's get you home," he said as soon as he broke the kiss.

You looked at him with your lips wet from his kiss, "Okay," you answered.

Minho had been waiting for this moment, he stood behind you as you unlocked the gate of your house then pushed it open.

He followed you inside, crossed the small garden, then climbed the stairs that led to the front door of the house, you inserted the passcode until it beeped open.

You swung the door open and stepped away to let him in, "please, come in!" You said to him.

He shot you a smile, then walked in, took off his shoes, and slipped into slippers.

He looked around the living room while you went to the kitchen to get some drinks, looking at the framed pictures of you with your family on the wall, and saw the one when you were still a toddler, playing sand on a beach.

"I am well aware that I wasn't a cute kid back then," you said when you returned with glasses and a small bucket of ice cubes, then put down a sealed bottle of whiskey.

Minho sat on the sofa and volunteered to open the bottle, "I'm sorry. I should be the one treating you to a drink," he said.

"No problem. I happen to have a lot of alcohol but no time to drink them," you responded.

You put two ice cubes on his glass and none in yours, Minho shot you a sly smile because you still remember how he likes his drink.

He clangs his glass with yours, took sips of your drinks almost at the same time, slightly hissing when you gulped it down in one go and the alcohol burned down your throat.

"Congratulations, once again," you said again as you refilled your glass.

Then clang your glass with his in his hand, gulped it again at once.

You glanced at him, and he was giving you this look, one that was so familiar, "don't give me that pitying look, Minho," you said to him and put down your glass.

"I'm not," he denied.

You lightly chuckled, "Look, you didn't owe me anything, you won because you did it on your own. It came from your pure hard work and your competence, you did it, you won!" You said to him, squeezing his hand on his lap.

"And you know what? You didn't have to prove anyone anything, you only need to prove it to yourself," you added.

You shifted on your seat, slightly facing him with one leg folded on the sofa, "you just did, and that's enough," you finished with a comforting smile.

Minho didn't realize it until you told him this, that he didn't need to prove anyone anything, everything that he sought all these times was not winning but proving it to himself.

His heart swelled with so much pride for himself, and it felt like the burden he put himself in vanished into thin air.

He reached for your cheek, caressed it with so much love, feeling so grateful and lucky he had someone like you who understood him.

He leaned in and kissed you, he put all of these nice feelings inside of him and put them all into the kiss.

"I'm so in love with you," he said against your lips.

He didn't waste time to kiss you again, drew your body close, and closed the gap between your bodies. Kissed you more, harder, deeper until his lungs screamed for oxygen.

He was so lost in the moment, he didn't hear his cellphone ringing in his jacket.

"Minho, your phone is ringing," you said to him.

He sighed, reluctantly letting go of the kiss but still holding you close, he picked up the phone.

You lay your hand flat on his chest as you watched him talk into the phone, he looked back at you, then at your hand that played with the button of his shirt.

You moved your hand down lower to feel the taut muscles of his stomach through the fabric, all the while maintaining your eyes with his.

Your hand went lower, touching the metal buckle of his belt, and he shot you a subtle glare as he kept talking into the phone.

You quickly withdrew yourself and sat up on the sofa to pour yourself a drink, just a little, and gulped it down.

Minho grabbed your hand when he thought you were about to leave him on the sofa, you shot him a smile and went kneeling on the floor facing him.

He shook his head at you, sensed that you were up to no good.

But that didn't stop you from unbuckling his belt and pulling the zipper down, taking out his semi-hard member from its confine.

Minho watched it all while trying to keep his tone as he continued speaking through the phone, stifled a sigh when you wrapped your hand around his length and began softly pumping it, up and down.

"Not fair," he mouthed to you.

You took an ice cube from the bucket and put it in your mouth, crushed it with your teeth until it became tiny little shards in your mouth.

Minho's eyes widened when he saw you slowly bring your mouth close to his cock and put it in your mouth, couldn't help but let out a moan when he felt the cold of the ice around him that electrified and aroused him at the same time.

He could only hope the person he was speaking to didn’t know what he was dealing with, having your head between his legs, kneeling, and opening your mouth wide to take all of his length.

Minho struggled to contain his groans, he could only mumble his answers through the phone, inhaled, and exhaled a long breathe once in a while to calm himself down as his cock was fully buried inside your mouth, cold and hot, wet and slick.

He let his head fall back on the headrest of the sofa, having a hard time focusing on talking on the phone with your mouth wrapped around his cock.

His hand went to put your hair away into a makeshift ponytail with one hand from covering such an enticing sight. The other one was busy holding his phone, keeping it pressed close to his ear.

You looked up through your lashes at him as you bobbed your head up and down his length.

Minho couldn't handle it, he quickly muttered goodbye to whomever he was talking to on the phone and put the phone away.

"Can't even wait for me to finish my phone call, huh?" He asked you, placing a hand on your jaw and softly rubbing it with his thumb.

You hummed your answer, and the vibration made him buck his hips against your, making you gag as his cock hit the back of your throat.

Minho cursed under his breath when he pulled his cock out of your mouth, followed by strings of his cum dribbled down your chin.

The view of it made his cock twitch in an instant, he saw the white of his cum on your tongue then watched you swallow it all down.

"Fuck," he cursed out loud, the profanity echoed in the living room.

He roughly got you up from the floor by your elbows and sat you down on his lap, "you're so..." he couldn't find the perfect word to describe the way you unexpectedly act. It never crossed his mind that you would kneel, having to see your head between his legs and sucking him off.

"Unexpected?"

"Full of surprises, more like," he corrected.

He kissed you hastily, tasting your cold mouth, you and his cum in you. His hands fumbled to unbutton your blouse that he impatiently ripped open, you were sure one or two buttons were flying off when he did.

He tossed the blouse away, unclasped your bra without hassle, then hand took an ice cube from the bucket, chewing on it as you did earlier.

"Payback time?" You asked him.

He nodded and opened his mouth to take your breast into his mouth.

The cold of the ice welcomed you, raised the goosebumps all over your body, and woke all of your senses at once.

You didn't hold back from moaning, you looked at how his mouth wrapped around your nipple and sucked on your breast.

You put your hair away, then put your hands on his shoulders, watching him do the same to your other breast, the melting ice dripping down from the corner of his mouth to your chest.

You slowly grind on him, your clothed core against his bulge under you, lowly moaning with mounting tension.

"My room is upstairs," you told him as you slipped your hand into his hair.

"Do you think you can carry me there?" You asked him.

There's just something so satisfying about proving anyone wrong, and Minho lived for that.

He let go of your breast with a loud pop, leaving your nipples red and swollen, wet with his saliva and melting ice.

Taking you to bed would be nothing," he said to you and confidently got up from the sofa, lifting you along with him.

You gasped as he hoisted you higher, hooked your legs around his waist, and hands looped around his neck, clung onto him as he climbed the stairs that led to your room.

He kicked open the door of your bedroom, making you giggle because he didn't want to let go of you for a mere second.

His impatient hands stripped your clothes off of you and as well as his, then crashed his naked body at you until you both toppled onto the bed.

Minho had wanted on fucking you for a long time, and that notion became true got him overwhelmed that his hands aimlessly touching you and kissing anything that he could put his mouth on.

You took the lead, had him pinned under you, lowered yourself to kiss him down while holding your hair from hitting his face.

"I dream of you on top of me," he said to you.

"Yeah?"

He nodded.

You grind on him for a moment before taking his length in your hand and aligning yourself with him, your eyes fixated on his face while his on where his cock slowly disappeared into you.

When he fully inside you, you let out a delightful sigh, blissfully smiling, "so perfect," you hummed, "so perfect inside me," you said to him with a dreamy sigh.

Grunts spilled out of his mouth as you moved on top of him, rolled your hips in a circular motion, slowly grind on him, bounced so hard with your breasts going along with the motions.

"Is this how you dream it?" You softly asked him with your hands on his chest.

He rubbed your forearm, "Even better," he sighed.

ou seductively smiled at him, then tilted your head up, took his hands, and led them to where you wanted him to touch you: all over.

You lay one foot flat on the bed to gain some leverage to go deeper, your eyes screwed shut as your orgasm came closing in.

Minho steadily held your waist, preventing you from falling to the side.

You moaned out loud.

Minho could listen to it on repeat, and he would never get tired of it.

"You're so beautiful when you moan like that," he murmured.

You clenched around him, tighter and tighter, your legs grew weak then a burst of immense pleasure surged throughout your body like a wildfire.

You toppled to the side, and Minho didn't waste time to take over from there, he turned you over on the bed and lifted you by your waist, jutting your ass up in the air.

With a hand on your hips to keep you still and steady, he pushed his length into you again.

He heard you cry into the pillow, his cock entering your still sensitive walls from the previous orgasm.

He began moving, slow and steady, angling your body as he pleased by your hips.

He lowered himself behind you, brought his mouth close to your ear, "Did someone fuck you in those two years without me?" He asked you.

"Did he fuck you better than I do?"

One hand went under to play with your clit, "No one can fuck you better than I do," he remarked, his hot breath tickling your ear when he spoke.

You didn't reply but clutched your pillow under you, moaning and screaming into it.

"You keep clenching around me," he said, gripping your hips so tight, "you want me to cum so fast?"

Minho got lost in it, at how good you felt around his cock that he thrusting into you at a relentless pace, one hand went to the nape of your neck, pushing your head onto the pillow.

"You feel so good, oh, fuck," he said between his grunts.

"I'm going to cum so hard and fill you up,"

And picked up his pace by putting all of his strength into the thrusts until he cum inside you, cock twitching and jamming it so deep inside you as he released his seed.

Without pulling out of you, he lowered himself, kissing your back and angled your head so he could kiss your face.

He heard your sniffles muffled by the pillow and got panicked, "are you crying?"

Your eyes were wet with tears that he could see the wet of your tears on the pillow, he wiped your tears with the back of his hand.

"Are you okay?"

"Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head and looked over your shoulder,

"That was just so good," you honestly answered.

Minho let out a mix of sighs and chuckle as he removed the hair that stuck to your face, "that good, huh?"

He took your hand and intertwined it with his on the bed, lay beside you as he put your body to the side so he could spoon you without pulling out of you, he kissed your bare shoulder repeatedly until you calmed down.

"I never cried from having sex before," you admitted.

"Trust me that it never feels this good to me before," he said to you.

"I believe it feels that good because it's with you," he added, then kissed the skin behind your ear.

You smiled hearing his comforting words tinted with so many endearments for you.

You closed your eyes, let the warmth of his body and the touches he gave you, lulled you to sleep.

You woke up with his hands touching your body, mouth kissing the column of your throat, and when he saw your eyes fluttering open, he smiled then whispered, "good morning,"

You saw the pale sunshine shining through the window behind him.

"Can't help yourself, I see," you mumbled.

He smiled with his mouth on your neck, "I want you so much," he murmured.

You softly smiled at him, you knew he didn't need your answer, he was just seeking your permission to go further.

Even with your head was still clouded with sleep, you could feel how pleasurable it was to have him inside you again.

"Mmh yeah, so good," he murmured.

You hummed with your eyes closed, putting a hand around his neck, and softly scratched the hair on the back of his head. He kissed your open mouth and his hips pulsating into you at a painstakingly slow pace.

You looked at his face that hovered a few inches above you, "Remind me how did we get here?" You asked him out of the blue

He breathlessly laughed, "from enemies to lovers?"

"So cliché," you commented while rolling your eyes.

Your cellphone rang from the bedside table, you stretched out your hand and groped around the table to see it was a call from work.

"Don't do anything funny," you said to him, then accepted the call.

Minho took this opportunity to his advantage.

He picked up the pace of his thrust and went as shallow as possible while looking down at your face.

You pressed your lips together to muffle your moans and talked as little as possible into the phone.

When you talked into the phone, Minho intentionally pulled out only to jam his cock back inside that a loud moan accidentally slipped past your mouth.

"Oh my God," you exclaimed while still on the phone.

"Can I call you later?" You spoke into the phone and hung up before you could receive an answer.

You put your phone away and held him close, "you're vengeful," you muttered.

He smirked then kissed you, "We're tied now," he announced.

You kissed him back, "yeah, but you'd better finish soon cause I have a meeting to go to," you informed.

Minho glanced at the clock on your bedside table, "oh yeah, me too," he said.

He groaned, then sank his mouth on you again, hips incessantly thrusting into you, and you hooked your legs around his waist, arching your back to let him penetrate deeper.

"Wait," you said into his lips.

"What?"

"Don't tell me you're participating in the design for that new art gallery?" You wildly guessed.

Minho pulled away from the kiss and scoffed, he didn't say anything but nodded.

"Oh, I guess we're going for another round," he said.

You brought his face close by his neck, placed a haste, slobbering kiss on his lips.

"well, let's finish this round first, shall we?" You asked with an eyebrow raised.

And Minho likes it when you challenge him like this.

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scarlettriot · 2 years

Text

Breaking Point - Damsel in Distress

Pairing: Hockey Player Eijiro Kirishima x F!Reader

Warnings: Minors DNI, Swearing, mentions of penis

Contains: As the pairing suggests, Kiri is a hockey player, reader is also plus size, Kiri gets hard.

Summary: A series of unforeseen events lead you and Kiri to share a bed in the cute little inn after the game.

Word Count: 4,795

A/N: Part SIX in the Breaking Point Series! It's been a minute so I have a few reminders for ya; Reader's assigned nickname from Bakugo is Squeaks. There is also some text convo in here, Reader is Purple and Mina is Pink. Friendly reminder this is a quirkless AU.

Other Parts:

Breaking Point - Part One - Locked Out Breaking Point - Part Two - Intimacy Breaking Point - Part Three - On Ice Breaking Point - Part Four - Stitches Breaking Point - Part Five - Just Platonic

Tags: @sleepynaya, @kenmakai, @ace-of-books, @swirrley, @mistyfoxson @weebaboobs @silverhairsimp - Thank you 💋

Winning at an away game never felt quite right. The cheers for your team were always drowned out by the jeers from the other. Even the few loyal, ecstatic fans that greeted the guys when they came off the ice couldn’t really make up for the looks of disappointment on the home team's faces.

This was why all celebrations were reserved for when you got back home. One’s where everyone could share in the excitement, go out to the club that had become a regular haunt, or have a bit of a party in someone’s dorm.

So, for now, all that was left to do tonight was find some food, take showers, and rest.

Everyone trickled back to the inn, a few couples breaking off to grab a bite to eat out and others wanted to head for showers right away. You followed the latter group, not so much for the shower but you were interested to see what kind of homemade dinner the inn had waiting.

You sat in the back of Eijiro’s jeep again with Izuku beside you and Katsuki in front of him, listening as the three chattered on about the game and a particularly good play Katsuki and Tetsu had managed to pull off. And before you knew it, you were pulling up to the inn again, Hanta’s car with Mina and Denki in it too, followed shortly after.

You’d gone to your room with the intention of looking at the small menu that had been provided after changing into comfortable shorts but before you had the chance you’d gotten momentarily distracted by the sight of yourself in the mirror. Still wearing Eijiro’s sweater, it looked like your legs were bare underneath like you were practically wearing a dress, but damn was it cozy. Kept you warm all through the game and you could easily take it off and walk it down to his room right now but… one night with it couldn’t hurt.

Grabbing the menu off the desk, you sat on the foot of one of the beds, surprised at all the different options they had available. You’d been looking at the side options when muffled voices, a door slamming shut, and then a sizable thud made you crawl from the bed and poke your head outside the room to find Eijiro on the ground, head hung low.

“Man… I just wanted to shower first.” He mumbled, not even noticing anyone in the hall with him.

“Eijiro?” The redhead lifted his gaze up from the floor to meet yours. He even still had his bag beside him, hair a sweaty mess, the braid a lost cause, “What happened?”

“Toshi surprised Denks, and they’re, well who are we kidding, they’re fucking, which means, I’ve been kicked out for the foreseeable future.”

You walked over to him, standing between his widespread legs. “Is this what woulda happened if I hadn’t been outside my apartment that night you had bleach on your head?”

His eyes ran up the length of you, but he didn’t linger long enough for you to comment. “Does this mean you’ve come to save me once again?”

Sighing, you held out your hands to him, wiggling your fingers for him to take. “C’mon my damsel in distress. You know I’ll always rescue you.” He genuinely looked as if you just told him he won the lottery.

“What’s wrong?” He asked when he picked up his bag and noticed you jiggling your door handle. “Wait… please tell me you didn’t.”

“Yeah, I don’t have my key…” You admitted sheepishly, “I didn’t know the doors automatically locked.”

He has a bit of a pout on his lip. “You’re supposed to be my knight in shining hockey sweater, who’s gonna save us now?”

“I’ll still save ya.” You patted his chest, not really wanting to go down to the front desk looking like you weren’t wearing pants but you didn’t see another way out of this. “I’ll be right back.”

Eijiro let his bag fall to the floor again, leaning against your door waiting for you to come back when another door opened. “You two are the cutest couple,” Mina smirked with Hanta peaking right over her shoulder and Eijiro’s face grew red.

“We’re not a couple! Stop sayin’ that!”

“My knight in shining hockey sweater,” Hanta mocked, pretending to faint in Mina’s arms.

“I’m gonna throw my game socks at the both of you, I swear! And they’re bad, like, really bad!”

Both of them laughed like idiots, closing the door to their room.

“Are you hungry!” You yelled through the bathroom door, hoping Eijiro would hear you over the water.

“I’m always hungry!”

Right, dumb question.

“We’ve only got like ten minutes to call in an order to the kitchens, if we don’t, we’re gonna have to run out for food.”

“‘M lazy. I don’t wanna go out again!”

“Want me to read you the menu?”

“Yes! Just open the door so we can stop yelling!”

You hesitated for a moment, hand lingering over the knob of the door. He was obviously going to be well hidden behind a shower curtain. And, he was the one who told you to come in anyways. You sucked in a deep breath and pushed open the door.

Steam had covered the window and mirror, Eijiro’s dirty clothes laid in a pile behind the door, his clean ones waiting for him on the sink's edge. “So, what’s on the menu?” He asked.

Skipping over the vegetarian options that you knew would be of little interest to him, “Right. There’s an angus cheeseburger, shepherd's pie, beef stew, chicken…” You glanced up from the paper in hand and could see his silhouette perfectly. Arms moving up to his hair, watching as his head tipped back into the stream of water…

“Chicken?”

“Huh?”

He snickered, his head still with soap clinging to it popping up over the curtain, standing at his full height. “You just said ‘chicken’, chicken what?”

“Oh, it’s chicken paprikash. Sorry.” You murmured.

Eijiro ducked back into the shower. “If I didn’t know better, it sounded kinda like something had you distracted.”

“Me? No, no, I’m just trying to figure out what I want. That’s all.” That was bullshit. You knew what you wanted before you found him in the hallway but he didn’t pick on you any further, instead, he listened to you read off the lists of sides to pick from and then settled on a dish.

You could see him brace his hands against the wall of the shower, head forward with wet hair curtaining it. He let the hot water crash over his back and you could only imagine how sore he had to be after these games, the aches, and pains, not to mention the times he took on injuries. The warmth of the water had to feel heavenly.

“Still here?” His hand pushed the hair back out of his eyes and you knew he couldn’t see you through the curtain but damn it felt like he was staring right at you.

“Sorry, did you want a drink with it? It comes with one.”

“Tea, if they have it. Green or something sweet.”

“You got it.” And you turned to leave before you wasted the rest of your night watching him like a little creep.

By the time he was finished, you had the order placed and were curled up on your bed, the book you were currently reading open and your nose buried in it.

“We’ve gotta run down and pick it up but they said it should be ready in,” You looked at the alarm clock, “About fifteen minutes.”

He unceremoniously flopped down on the bed you hadn’t claimed, flat on his back, arms splayed wide. “Perfect, fifteen minute cat nap for me. Wake me up when we gotta go get it?” He turned his head towards you with a quirky grin but you agreed, returning to your book, eyes only glancing at him in the moments you flipped between pages.

And when the time came, you shook his knee and he woke right up. Dutifully following you out the door and groaning when he saw the little do not disturb sign hanging off the doorknob of his shared room.

“We can check again after dinner, they should be done by then.”

Eijiro nodded and you continued down to the dining room where you gave a man your room number and two large trays of food we brought out. If it tasted even half as good as it smelled, you were gonna be a happy woman.

You both sat on the spare bed, munching at the delicious food, picking off each other’s plates, and talking about whatever came to mind. Eijiro was happy to finish off the last little bit of your meal and then he saw the box on the edge of your tray, unopened, “What’s that.”

“Dessert.”

“I didn’t get dessert…”

“Don’t you pout,” you laughed at him and handed him over the box, “I had a feeling I’d be too full for it anyways. I just want a bite, okay?”

He was quick to open it, a slow smile taking over his face, “This is my favorite.”

“I know, that’s why I got it.” You didn’t tell him it was extra because he’d insist on paying you back which was ridiculous.

“You’re too good to me.” He gathered a bit of the treat for you, “C’mere.” Leaving you to lean over the trays and take the spoonful. You hadn’t even swallowed yet, didn’t have time to pull away when his thumb brushed against your chin, whipping off a bit that had fallen off the spoon and popped it directly in his mouth with a grin that made your heart jump.

You had to shake the feeling quickly. “Want me to go check on the room for you while you eat that?”

“That’d be great, thanks!”

You were already sliding off the bed though, walking to the door trying to calm down your racing heart.

The placard was still dangling off the door handle. “Sorry, looks like they're still goin’ at it.” His head drooped forward, taking another spoonful, finishing off the dessert.

When he brought his head back up you could actually see how tired he really was, the drive, then the game, all he probably wanted to do was get to sleep.

“Why don’t you just take my spare bed? That way you don’t have to wait until gods know when for them to be done.”

His eyes went a little wide. “You really wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not.” He was your friend after all, one that you had started to really care for, and you couldn’t just leave him with no place to sleep for the night.

“I’d totally be fine crashing in my jeep for the night.”

“Eijiro, that’s ridiculous. The temperatures dropping and you don’t even have the roof on!”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Right, I forgot about that...”

“Right. So, just take that bed and problem solved.”

His face was so damn sincere, “Thank you.”

After running down to the front desk a second time, in need of purchasing Eijiro a spare toothbrush since his was in the other room, you delivered it through the bathroom door and then promptly burrowed your way back into bed with your book while he completed his nightly routine.

He fished his laptop out of his bag along with a pair of headphones. “Thought I’d watch something before going to bed. It helps me shut my brain off, ya know? I can use my headphones if you wanna keep reading but I thought I’d at least offer in case you wanted to watch it with me.”

Sleep wasn’t beckoning you yet and you and Eijiro did always have the same taste in shows. “Sure, what are we watchin’?”

He threw back the covers and sat on his bed with the laptop on his knee and from memory rattled off the choices he said you could pick from, movies and TV shows he already had downloaded. After minor deliberation, you agreed on a show that he loaded up once the blankets were over him and he positioned the laptop at the edge of his bed. “Can you see alright?”

You really couldn’t, the distance between the two beds was just far enough that the screen was too small and, it seemed that even though you told Eijiro it was fine, he knew that it wasn’t.

“You could, well, you could just come over here and we could put it between us.” He suggested and you had to take a second.

The number of times you shared a sofa with Eijiro to watch TV was in the hundreds by now, laying in a bed to do the same thing was perfectly fine! You were both adults! Friends! It shouldn’t be a big deal laying on the same bed with your friend to watch a show with. So, you crawled out from under the blankets of your bed and scooted into the space he provided beside him.

He set the laptop up in the small space left between you two and pressed play. “This better?”

“Yeah, it is, thanks.”

Laying on your side with your hands tucked underneath your pillow. Only ten minutes had passed when your feet felt the chill of the crisp sheets. The last thing you wanted was to bother him but you couldn’t help but subtly rub them together to try and get some warmth back into your toes.

“Cold?”

Instantly, you stop moving. “A little. Just my feet though. I refuse to wear socks in bed. It’s so wrong.”

He lifted the laptop and rested it on his leg instead, moving his arm to invite you closer. “C’mere then. You always say I’m like a space heater when we hug. This way I can put it to good use.”

You laid in the crook of his arm, instantly feeling his body heat that he constantly generates, and felt his shin press against your feet and Eijiro laughed, “You weren’t kiddin’, they’re like little ice cubes.”

Something about his easy smile and the way he didn’t jerk away from your toes, had you feeling completely calm. Your shoulders had relaxed, you curled into his side, every notation of this being something you shouldn’t do was long gone.

You’d been so entirely at peace that you hadn’t even realized Eijiro had fallen asleep and it wasn’t long after that you had followed him.

Hours later, the moon still gracing the sky, sunlight hours away, you’d stirred in your sleep. Winking your eyes open and squinting at a bleary bright light, just at the edge of the bed wondering what it could be… Shit!

Acting quickly, you lunged over Eijiro’s sleeping body and caught the corner of the laptop that had teetered to the edge of the bed. You quietly shut it and placed it safely on the nightstand for him to put away tomorrow morning since it was obvious he wasn’t going to be doing it anytime soon with how he was snoring.

Carefully you started to move away from the sleeping giant, having every intention of going back to your own bed when he grumbled in his sleep and you froze, giving two large arms time to wrap you up and held you against his chest. Effectively stuck.

You stayed still in his grasp, heart hammering against your ribs. Innocently falling asleep together, that was one thing but, this felt very intimate. His arms low on your back, the way he moved his legs and tangled them up with yours, it felt too close, too real. You’d been considering ways to escape when you heard his snore taper off to a hum and one of his hands started softly rubbing your back.

His voice was slurred with sleep, “Don’t go, ‘mm, I like this.”

“Eijiro?” You whispered, lifting your head up to look at him because there was no possible way he could be awake and have said that, right?

Even in the dark of the room, you could make out Eijiro’s features. His red hair was a wild mess across the pillow and falling in front of his closed eyes and his lips were just slightly agape. By all accounts, he still looked fast asleep.

It was when you tried moving again that he gave a pouty little whine and it made you give in. “Alright, fine,” you shushed him, “‘M not going anywhere.”

Looking up at his face again, you could see his lips arc up into the smallest grin; proud of his victory, even in his slumber.

Your head settled against his chest, body laying atop his, legs coiled around each other.

One final thought fluttered across your mind before you fell asleep again, it was the steady drumming of Eijiro’s heart and the way it beat at the same rate as your own and how much you loved the sound.

Eijiro was woken up by the trill of his phone, vibrating so damn much it nearly wiggled its way off the nightstand but he managed to catch it at the last second. He looked down to find you still snuggled into his chest, one hand clinging to his shirt and the other, well, he could just feel it behind his shoulder.

“Sorry ‘bout this.” He grumbled into the top of your head and with his free hand tried to cover your ear.

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!” Was Katsuki’s greeting the moment he accepted the call.

“Morning, man.”

“Morning, man,” Katsuki mocked, “Don’t you morning man, me! Dunce face said you never went back to your room last night and now you’re not at fuckin’ breakfast. Where are you?”

Before Eijiro could answer him, you let out the most adorable noise he’d ever heard. Just a yawn as your head seemed to turn to try to get away from the conversation.

“Who the fuck was that- wait…” Eijiro’s heart started to race, “Squeaks isn’t here either. Hah, finally grew a pair, huh?”

“Bakugo- no- you’ve got the wrong-“

“‘Bout damn time, now put your clothes back on and get down here. I wanna get headed back soon.”

The line went dead before he had a chance to clarify a damn thing.

He’d worry about it in a couple minutes, right now you were soft and warm and he was going to savor every moment of this you let him have. He might not have known when the hell you got in his arms like this but he couldn’t have been happier about it.

“Good morning to you.” He mumbled when your head shift back, now that Katsuki wasn’t yelling anymore.

“Why does he gotta be so mad so early?”

“Because he needs more coffee.” He chuckles, but then you’re pushing yourself up, about to say something else only to abruptly stop and oh fuck did he know why.

What he didn’t know was why he hadn’t realized it sooner. He’d been too comfortable. Too relaxed but now there was heat rising up his neck and he knew it was flooding his cheeks too. There was no way to avoid it, no way you hadn’t felt it, fucking hell, it was pressed right up against your stomach!

He took in a deep breath and faced the situation head on. “So, yeah, that’s my dick, and if we could just not talk about this that’d be great, thanks!” And, he gave you exactly no time to say a single thing before lifting you off him and setting you down on the bed so he could quickly roll out of the blankets and make a break for the bathroom.

You sat on the bed where he left you, mildly dumbfounded over what just happened, and for a whole minute, just one thought occupied your entire mind; how’s it that big!

There was no possible way you could keep this entirely to yourself. You sprung for your phone and triple checked you were on Mina’s chat:

You: Were you just not gonna warn me that Kirishima has a MASSIVE cock!?!?

Mina: He does!? REALLY!

You were in the middle of responding when a flurry of messages came through and it looked like Eijiro wasn’t the only one who needed to correct someone about last night.

Mina: Wait a sec Mina: How do you know he has a massive cock? Mina: OH MY GODS!!!! Mina: YOU GUYS FINALLY FUCKED!

You: No

Mina: Just platonic… BULLSHIT!

You: Mina, seriously, we didn’t.

Mina: Then how do you know! Did you, like, walk in on him in the shower? Because that would have been a good time to hop on that apparently massive cock.

You: We cuddled. Morning wood happened.

Mina: You cuddled this morning and he got hard?

You: Technically we slept together. He woke up with it.

Mina: If you slept together why are you now surprised by the size of his dick?

It wasn’t even nine in the morning and you were getting a headache. Pinching the bridge of your nose. You heard the faucet turn meaning he’d be out in a second.

You: We DID NOT fuck. But yeah, big, big dick.

Mina: I want details ASAP! Like, did you actually see it? Big as in length or width? OR BOTH? You’re so damn lucky…

Her text went on but you shoved your phone away when Eijiro walked back into the room and though you tried your hardest, your eyes instantly went to his groin for a second, the faintest outline now visible in his dark sweats now that his erection had time to go down.

By the time your eyes had trailed up to his face, Eijiro had been turning for his bag but, not quick enough. He caught you staring, that was obvious, just as obvious as you seeing his still pink cheeks and the smirk he was wearing.

“So,” he changed the subject, “Sleep well?”

“Better than I have in a while actually.”

“I know what you mean.” There was a lightness to his voice. Despite the awkwardness that just happened he looked completely sincere, even a little bashful with his hand on the back of his neck admitting, “I’d do it again.”

“Yeah? Me too.”

You hurried off to the bathroom with a change of clothes while he packed away his laptop and other belongings he’d had about the room. Brushing your teeth and washing your face, then sliding into jeans and a fresh t-shirt. Your hoodie was still on the hook at the back of the door, a reminder to give Eijiro his sweater back.

He had everything packed by the time you came out, everything besides that crisp white jersey, draped over the arm of the chair where you left it the night before.

“Left it out on purpose.” He told you when you went to hand it back, “Check the weather.”

“Holy shit! It’s dropped like twenty degrees since yesterday!”

“Wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to pile in someone else’s car, but, if you still wanna ride in the jeep you’re definitely gonna want this. It’s gonna get real- oof- Well, hey there, what’s the for?”

You didn’t know why that exact moment felt like the best to throw your arms around his torso but you did it anyway. You didn’t know what made him care, or why he kept smiling those little grins that had just one corner of his mouth tugging up but it made you feel so completely content that you couldn’t physically help holding onto him for just a second, well, maybe a minute.

“Just because.” It was the easier answer rather than trying to explain to him all the feelings that were running around your head. And he seemed happy to accept it.

His arms wrapped around you, hugging you close, and he kept hugging you until you broke away upon hearing his stomach growl. “C’mon, before Katsuki calls again.”

You tugged the sweater on, slung your bag over your shoulder, and walked out of the room together. Breakfast consisted of a bar with a plethora of different options, enough for you and Eijiro to happy eat your fill even if you were running late. Breakfast also consisted of each of you having to convince Katuski and Mina respectively that you two did not fuck.

“I’m so disappointed in you,” She grumbled and pushed a piece of sausage back and forth when the guys went to go get drink refills, “You two were literally in bed with each other, cuddling, and you didn’t just go for it!”

There wasn’t enough time to explain to Mina why just going for it seemed like such a horrible idea. But, your eyes followed the pair of friends over to the juice bar, watching as Eijiro smiled and fielded the conversation away from Katsuki’s gruff attitude with two pretty girls wearing your universities colors. Loyal fans who traveled all the way to see them play.

“Don’t you even start comparing!” Your eyes went back to Mina whose arms were folded over her chest.

“What do you mean!”

“I see where you’re looking and I’m telling you not to fucking do it! You’re so much better than any of the little ice bunnies that follow the boys around. Stop comparing yourself to them. I know it’s hard but, just remember,” She wiggled her eyebrows, “you got him in bed last night, not them.”

“Mina!”

“I’m just saying!”

She didn’t have time to say anything else before Katsuki came back to the table and Eijiro shortly after.

Afterward, everyone was gathered in the lobby with their various bags, going through the check out process and talking over plans for the rest of the day.

Katsuki wanted to throw in another evening practice once everyone was back on campus but he was easily outvoted.

“We won,” Denki reminded him, “And that means we celebrate! I believe it is Mirio’s turn to host,” The older blonde cheerfully smiled, “So, dear captain, we will not be practicing tonight. We will be dancing our butts off celebrating another victory!”

Mirio slung his arm over Denki’s shoulders. “Tamaki and I are gonna stop and get supplies on the way home. Should have the place ready by seven. We won’t keep you out too late.”

Katsuki still complained but he did it quietly.

Izuku was the last of the group to check out, everyone else already heading out to the parking lot and waving goodbyes. You stood in the cool, dreary air by the jeep while you waited on the others, thankful for the hockey sweater you pulled on again, waiting for the others, and were mildly surprised when only Eijiro jogged over.

“Izuku and Katsuki are catching a ride back with Hanta since,” He gestured to the lack of roof, “and Denks is going with Hitoshi… I really won’t blame you if you wanna go with Suka or someone.”

You knew he wouldn’t but you also would feel terrible about him driving all the way back alone. So, you chucked your bag into the backseat and climbed up into the passengers. “Ready when you are!”

He wasted no time blasting the heat the second he got inside. Handing you the AUX cord and telling you to play whatever you liked. The day might have been cold but you barely even realized it, too busy singing and laughing to give a damn.

About an hour into the drive though, you got a text alert and turned the music down for Eijiro to also hear, “Izuku’s plotting.”

“Bet Katsuki’s gonna love that. What’s going on?”

“He really liked that inn and he checked to see if there was a chance we could stay there again when we play them in January.” You explained, “Not only do they have the room, but they’re also holding a party that Friday night. Apparently, they hold one every Friday in January but this one is a masquerade. He’s wondering if anyone else would wanna go to it. Mina’s already agreed.”

“Tell him I do too!” You were a little surprised by his eagerness. “I love parties! And I’ve never been to a masquerade! All the cool masks and stuff! I think it sounds fun. Do you?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell him it’s a yes from the both of us then!”

What you didn’t share with Eijiro were the texts that came in immediately after.

Mina: Of course, Y/N answers for the both of them. Mina: Are you guys gonna actually go together? Mina: As a couple!

“What?” Eijiro asked when you sighed.

“Just Mina being Mina.”

And Eijiro just nodded along, knowing exactly what you meant.

#mha #mha fanfic #bnha fanfic #kirishima fanfic #kirishima x reader #kirishima x y/n #hockey!kiri #kirishima eijiro #kirishima fluff

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shigarakis-cumdump · 3 years

Text

An Unhealthy Obsession- Shigaraki x reader

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shigarakiscumdump/works

(If you like what you read, consider supporting me on Ao3!)

Summary: Short yandere fic based off the song “An Unhealthy Obsession,” by The Blake Robinson Synth. Orchestra.

Cw: yandere and stalker tendencies

Word count: 1.9k

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Many people would call Shigarki the creepy type if they saw him on the street. Slouched over, face always buried in his phone with his hoodie covering the rest. He looked like your local creep who hung around popular stores and malls by himself. He would go to one mall in particular, even more so after he realized they had a Game Stop there. He would frequently go in to browse, and while he was checking out one day, he met you behind the counter.

“Will this be all?” you ask in your sweet customer service voice, with your head slightly tilted. Shigaraki froze in place. No one this pretty has ever talked to him before.

“Um, yeah, that’s all.” he says quickly, looking down to the ground while you're bagging his games.

“This one’s my favorite; I’ve been playing non-stop since it came out, have fun with it!” you say as you hand the bag back. And you play games? Could it get any more perfect?!

“Thanks,” he managed before walking out of the store and finding the closest bathroom. He locked the stall door and sat down. With his heartbeat in his cock, he couldn’t stop thinking of how innocent your voice sounded, and how pretty you looked. He decided from then on you were his next obsession.

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Shigaraki visited the store so often he learned your schedule. He would watch others make small talk with you, and it made him want to steal you for himself. His blood boiled when someone else would make you laugh. Soon enough, seeing you at your work wasn’t enough. He wanted to know more about you. So he followed you home one day. He kept his distance, being too scared of appearing creepy to people around him. You lived a few blocks away from him, who knew!This made it very easy for Shigaraki to stake out across the street and just watch you for hours. You always kept your windows open, maybe for the natural light? He appreciated it though; in his eyes, you left your blinds open for him. So he could watch as you dance around your room with your dog, and then relax and watch tv, hugging a pillow as you accidentally fall asleep. You were precious, and he realized all you wanted, all you needed, was someone like him to cuddle up into, to make sure you were safe. After all, there were too many creeps who could hurt you- he was just making sure they didn't get to you.

Shigaraki made it back to his place, but you never left his head. He went from sitting in the bushes, to sitting hunched over his desk, looking up your name on every search engine imaginable. “Bingo!” he says once he finds your socials. He scrolls down your page, seeing your stories about going to conventions earlier in the summer, spending time with your friends and- oh? What’s this? You were hugging a boy in this picture. Shigaraki zoomed in to get a good look at his face. “Why would you want a bastard like him?” he grunted angrily. He clicked on his profile and saw a post of you two eating at “your favorite restaurant” together for his birthday. The post was from the beginning of this year, so maybe you weren’t still with the guy. I mean Shigaraki didn’t see anyone while he was stalking you, which was a good sign.

Over time, his camera roll would fill up with screenshots of you off of your profile, shaky pictures he snapped of you while you were working, etc. He was in the store just when you worked now, because any other time he was following paces behind you to wherever your pretty feet were taking you. Stepping up to the counter with a few games, you began checking him out. His voice low and quiet as he asked, “Do you play games often?”

“Oh sure! Whenever I have free time, really. But lately I’ve been too busy. We should totally play together sometime!” you beam. Play together? He wanted to do a lot more than that .

“C-Cool, then I’ll see you through a screen next time,” Shigaraki scratches his neck awkwardly. You give him that practiced smile you show to all the customers. “Oh, what time do you get out?” he asks, and you give him a confused look. “S-so I know when to hop on! Just in case..” he drifts off, trying to keep cool. You tell him around 8, and he leaves. That’s perfect. Gives him just enough time to run some errands.

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Shigaraki went to the hardware store and got the smallest cameras he would find. He hurried over to your place, and prayed the key was still under the rug where you left it. And it was! He unlocked your door, and your small dog ran up to him, jumping on his leg. “You’re a friendly little guy, aren’t you?” he says, leaning down to pet the dog. Don’t get distracted ! He reminded himself. He began by setting a few cameras up in your room, one facing each corner. This gave him a perfect view of your bed, desk, and closet. While he was in there, he picked up a piece of thin red fabric off the ground. He inhaled deeply, to smell a sweet and salty scent. He shoved them into his pockets for later, and finished placing the cameras.

Back out in the living room, your dog was following him around. Shigaraki knelt down and gave him a pat. He read the dog's collar; apparently his name was Shiro. Cute. “You want something, Shiro? You need some food?” he asked, looking around for his dog dish. He found it and filled it up and then sat on the couch. He took your panties out of his pocket, giving them another whiff. The smell shot straight down to his groin, heating him up. He pulled his phone out and went to his album just for you and scrolled through the pictures. He loved you so dearly, and one day you would know just how much he cherished you. He played back the small interactions the two of you had, and all the memories you’d have together in the future. He palmed his hardening cock, head leaning back on the couch.

It was 6:30, he still had a few more hours before you were back. He revealed his dick from his sweatpants, his tip leaking pre. He put your red panties in his hand, and started to jerk himself off- the soft lace brushing against the underside of his dick. His breathing became hitched and sporadic at the thought of you underneath him making the same noises. No, he wasn’t experienced, but you would teach him everything he needed to know!

“Y/N… god you’re so tight..” he groaned. His hips thrusting up into you as you let out lewd noises for him. He grabbed your face and whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“God please- fuck, I’m close, Shiggy!” you whined under him, twitching with your back arched and a tit in his mouth. The thoughts that filled his mind went directly to his cock. Shigaraki humped his hand, wishing it could be you, waiting for when it was you. Maybe you’d even fuck on this couch, who knows. He quickly finished and made sure to leave nothing behind before heading out and staking out behind the bushes again.

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You throw yourself on the couch as always, sitting where he sat just an hour ago. You made yourself some tea as you turned the tv on. It wasn’t too late, meaning Shigaraki could watch you for a bit.

A little later, you make yourself dinner. You take the trash out and leave it by the road. Shigaraki, being the weirdo he is, makes his way across the street, dangerously close to your front window, to snoop through your trash. There had to be something good in there. . He rummaged through your trash to find empty take out containers, some paper, and- chapstick? He wasn’t big on using it himself, but if it was yours, it was automatically going on his lips. He thought of it like an indirect kiss from his one and only. It had a taste of sweet strawberries, probably what you would taste like if he ever had the chance to kiss you. One day, he keeps telling himself. He pulls out his phone to check your room cameras and he sees you starting up your pc. Right! You asked to game with him earlier! Shigaraki raced back home to load his game, praying he would find you in one of the local servers. There was FlameThrower2050 , TheRadicalDude , SuckItRight , and Shiro’sCloud online. You had to be the last one. He shot you a direct message, asking if you were up for a game, and you said yes. You actually said yes! Of course, you didn’t know it was him. You went into a private lobby and you turned on your headset. “Hey, can you hear me?” you asked innocently. Your pure voice went right through his heart. “Uh yeah, you sound great,” he blurts out. “Oh, Shigaraki?” you remembered his name?! This left him ecstatic. The game starts and you play a few rounds, Shigaraki being in heaven. You ended up beating him. In every. Single. Round. A bit embarrassing for him, but you laughed it off and didn’t make fun of him for it. Oddly, that stuck with him. You were so nice the whole time- he couldn’t wait to talk to you at work tomorrow!

It was getting late, which is why you had to go, which also meant Shigaraki got to watch you on the cameras. He pulled out his phone, switching to the view of your bed. You crawled in with just panties and an oversized shirt on, how cute. You scrolled on your phone for a little, until it dropped on your chest and you fell asleep. Your phone battery is gunna die, silly… Shigaraki thinks to himself. He could always go over and plug it in for you. No! That was too dangerous!! What if you wake up when he’s standing over you? Certainly that’s not a good impression to leave. He argues with himself for a bit before he’s out of the house, running down the street. His feet carry him all the way back to your place. He grabs the key and goes for the door. It was unlocked. You left it unlocked for him? How nice of you! He sneaks in and Shiro is quick to jump on him. Shiro took quite a liking to him. He tiptoed over to your room, looking at your sleeping body through the door crack. He opened the door slightly, going in and looming over you. He pried the phone from out of your hands and plugged it in for you. You would thank him later; tomorrow! When you’d see him next. Shigaraki zoned out, watching you sleep soundly for a good hour, stealing pictures of you while you were snoring, and getting a quick sniff of your hair. He had stayed there a lot longer than intended, the sun starting to rise. He snuck out of your room and locked the door on his way out.

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“Oh, hey!” Shigaraki hears your pleasant voice call out to him from the counter. “Last night was a lot of fun; how about we play again tonight?” you ask him. He immediately says yes, his heart doing flips in his chest. This was the start of something good.

#shigaraki #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki smut #yandere shigaraki #yandere shigaraki x reader #yandere #stalker shigaraki #an unhealthy obsession #no smut #drabble #shigarakithirst

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krabmeat · 3 years

Note

☊⏃⋏ ⟟ ⏚⟒ ⟒⋏⎅⟒⍀⋔⏃⋏ ⏃⋏⍜⋏? ⏃⋏⊬⍙⏃⊬⌇ ⋏⍜⍙ ⏁⊑⏃⏁'⌇ ⏃⌰⌰ ⍜⎍⏁ ⍜⎎ ⏁⊑⟒ ⍙⏃⊬. ☌⍜⎅ ⍀⟒⏃⎅⟒⍀ ☌⟒⏁⏁⟟⋏☌ ⍀⟒⎐⟟⎐⟒⎅ ⎍⋏⟒⌖⌿⟒☊⏁⟒⎅⌰⊬ ⏚⊬ ⎅⍀⟒⏃⋔? ⟟⏁'⌇ ⌰⟟☍⟒ - ⏃ ⍀⟒⏃⌰⌰⊬ ⏚⏃⎅⏃⌇⌇ ⏃⋏⏁⏃☌⍜⋏⟟⌇⏁ ☌⍜⎅ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ☌⟒⏁⌇ ⌿⎍⌰⌰⟒⎅ ⍜⎍⏁ ⍜⎎ ⏁⊑⟒ ⎍⋏⎅⟒⍀⍙⍜⍀⌰⎅, ☊⏃⌰⌰⟟⋏☌ ⎅⍀⟒⏃⋔ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ "⌇⏃⎐⟟⍜⎍⍀" (⏚⎍⏁ ⟟⋏ ⏃ ⋔⍜⍀⟒ ⌇⏃⏁⟟⍀⟟☊⏃⌰ ⍙⏃⊬ ⟟⋏⌇⏁⟒⏃⎅ ⍜⎎ ☌⟒⋏⎍⟟⋏⟒⌰⊬ ⌇⟒⟒⟟⋏☌ ⏁⊑⟒ ⋔⏃⌇☍⟒⎅ ⋔⏃⋏ ⏃⌇ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ⊑⟒⍀⍜ ☊⏃⎍⌇⟒ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌿⏃⌇⏁ ⏁⊑⟒⊬'⎐⟒ ⋔⍜⌇⏁ ⌰⟟☍⟒⌰⊬ ☊⏃⌰⌰⟒⎅ ⟒⎐⟒⍀⊬⍜⋏⟒ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ⊑⟒⌰⌿⟒⎅ ⏁⊑⟒⋔ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ⋔⟟☌⊑⏁⊬ ⊑⟒⌰⌿⟒⍀ ⏁⍜ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌿⍜⟟⋏⏁ ⍙⊑⟒⍀⟒ ⏁⊑⟒ ⏁⟟⏁⌰⟒ ⎎⟒⟒⌰⌇ ⍜⎐⟒⍀⎍⌇⟒⎅ ⏃⋏⎅ ⎍⋏⎅⟒⌇⟟⍀⏃⏚⌰⟒). ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⍀⍜⏃⋔⟒⎅ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌰⏃⋏⎅⌇ ⍜⎎ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌇⋔⌿, ⏚⍀⟟⋏☌⟟⋏☌ ⏁⟒⍀⍀⍜⍀ ⏃⋏⎅ ⊑⟒⌰⌰⎎⟟⍀⟒ ⏃☊⍀⍜⌇⌇ ⏁⊑⟒ ⍜⎐⟒⍀⍙⍜⍀⌰⎅, ⌰⟒⏁⏁⟟⋏☌ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ☍⟒⌿⏁ ⟟⋏ ⍀⏃☌⟒ ⌇⏁⍀⍜⌰⌰ ⎎⍀⟒⟒. ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⟒⋏⎅ ⎍⌿ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⏁⎍⋏⎅⍀⏃, ⏁⊑⟒ ⏚⎍⍀⋏⟟⋏☌ ⎎⌰⏃☍⟒⌇ ⍜⎎ ⏃⌇⊑⟒⌇ ☌⟒⏁⏁⟟⋏☌ ⌰⍜⌇⏁ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⊑⏃⍀⌇⊑ ⌿⟟⌰⟒⌇ ⍜⎎ ⌇⋏⍜⍙. ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⊑⏃⌿⌿⟒⋏⟒⎅ ⏁⍜ ⊑⏃⎐⟒ ⌇⏁⎍⋔⏚⌰⟒⎅ ⎍⌿⍜⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ☊⍜⏁⏁⏃☌⟒⌇ ⍜⎎ ⏁⍙⍜ ⟟⋔⋔⍜⍀⏁⏃⌰ ☌⍜⎅⌇ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⋔⏃⊬ ⍜⍀ ⋔⏃⊬ ⋏⍜⏁ ⊑⏃⎐⟒ ⎍⌇⟒⎅ ⏁⍜ ☍⋏⍜⍙. ⍙⍜⋏⎅⟒⍀ ⍙⊑⏃⏁'⌰⌰ ⊑⏃⌿⌿⟒⋏? ⟟ ⍙⍜⎍⌰⎅ ⌰⟟☍⟒ ⏁⍜ ⌇⟒⟒ ⊬⍜⎍⍀ ⏁⏃☍⟒ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟟⌇.

- ⟒⋏⎅⟒⍀⋔⏃⋏ ⏃⋏⍜⋏

𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚝

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜: philza, techno, Wilbur,(next few only mentioned)Mexican dream, schlatt, dream

𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜: they/them

𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: fire, death, arson, betrayal mention, being used, reference to drugs, slight cursing

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜: translation vvvvv

Can i be enderman anon? anyways now that's all out of the way. God reader getting revived unexpectedly by dream? it's like - a really badass antagonist god that gets pulled out of the underworld, calling dream their "saviour" (but in a more satirical way instead of genuinely seeing the masked man as their hero cause in the past they've most likely called everyone that helped them their mighty helper to the point where the title feels overused and undesirable). They roamed the lands of the smp, bringing terror and hellfire across the overworld, letting their kept in rage stroll free. They end up in the tundra, the burning flakes of ashes getting lost in the harsh piles of snow. They happened to have stumbled upon the cottages of two immortal gods that they may or may not have used to know. Wonder what'll happen? i would like to see your take in this.

- enderman anon

AHHH IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I DONT KNOW IF YOULL EVEN READ THIS STILL BUT TY FOR THE REQUEST IT ISNT THE BEST QUALITY IM SORRY :[[[

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You almost don't recognize the sensation of grass against your calloused and rough hands. You were in the void playing solitaire with Schlatt and Mexican Dream, and the next thing you knew you were suddenly pulled harshly by the back of your collar, falling on your spine. The looming mask of Dream is what stood above you, but he looked different. Longer hair, smelly, wearing a stained lime green jumpsuit with ‘0001' sewn into it and covered in cuts, scars and bruises. But before you could even question why Dream was suddenly there, he stepped back into the void, the void slowly surrounding and consuming him the further he went backwards. His now bony hand is still tightly gripped onto the back of your shirt, so while struggling your body is also enveloped in darkness. All it took was one blink and there you were on a patch of grass, staring at the pale blue sky.

"Huh."

Was all that came out of your mouth. You were still shocked at the turn of events that just happened, but no longer grounded. A running river nearby stunned your senses. How long had you been dead? It felt like years, but when you look around at the familiar forest you died in, not much had changed except for a couple newly planted saplings here and there. The swirling ashes you remembered before you died had all settled and compressed into the soil.

The river showed a strange reflection of yourself- your features have clearly sunken into your skull and there's a streak of white hair coming from your scalp along with words in fancy gold letters on your arm reading,

"May thy woes and hurt of the past no longer eradicate the upwards of this lost souls future. Allow thine to be praised by Ender themselves and be granted another chance at mortality."

Scrubbing or picking at your arm did nothing, so onwards you went walking along the forest to what you remember being a bustling "community".

Each mound of dirt you saw only brought memories of your death, of the place and people who sought to treat you like you were disposable. And now that you’re alive, you hate that they technically ended up being right. Your death; alone in a forest. Running away from the unexpected attacker, ashamed and too prideful to die in the prying eyes of your enemies. It fills you with rage, all the lives taken by your hands and for what? You weren’t overreacting, you knew that for sure. And before you knew it, you stole some fresh flint and steel from a random chest and got to work.

You had always wanted to touch the fires you set. The soothing feeling you got from watching wood burn to char and ashes satisfied you. And it made it all the more euphoric to know it was trees of your manipulator's land. Running across the land, with flames as far as you could see when you looked behind you. The heat swirled around your neck and went into your nose, but the feeling was muscle memory at that point. You were still riding your high when a voice reached out to you, luckily when you were finally calm.

"What- Y/n? Hold on, is that really you Y/n..?"

You spin on your heels to the familiar manipulative British voice of a person you haven't seen in a long time.

"Wilbur?! Man, I haven't seen another person's face other than those two addicts in a while- you look different."

His eyes much like yours are sunken deep into his skull, purple-pink bags under his eyes and dull skin. Wilburs shocked lips fade into an opened mouth smile when he walks up to you with his hands momentarily confused on what they should do. Eventually, his right hand settles on clasping your left shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze.

“Y/n it is so good to see you! You look quite different yourself, wouldn’t you think-? Oh, look! We’re matching!”

The grey streak in your hair seems to make another appearance when Wilbur briefly smacks it with his middle and pointer finger.

“Ay, it’s nice to see you too Wil, but back up for a second alright? I've got something to ask you by the way…”

Wilburs head peaks in interest, urging you to go on.

“I’m guessing that little streak in your hair wasn’t a fashion choice- and if it was it’s a bit strange- but how’d you get it? You died when you blew up L’manburg! I mean c'mon, people don’t just, well…REVIVE!”

He starts to walk. You aren’t quite sure where, but stumbling along with Wilbur while his arm is draped lazily atop your shoulders seems to suffice.

“Ahh Y/n, you’d be surprised. The most WONDERFUL thing happened, actually! Years and years in my hell of a train station; do you know who was at the subway door when it finally opened, Y/n? Dream!”

“Wh- Dream?!”

Appalled, you try to stop in your tracks but fail when wilburs arm is still pushing forward. His storytelling voice dies down to curiosity and excitement.

“Wait, did he save you too? He did, didn’t he? Oh, this is wonderful!”

Wilbur emits eagerism and you suddenly realize what you could do with his desperacy to be socially accepted. Putting on the most exaggerated and animated voice, you speak.

“Oh my god yeah! Gosh, that Dream guy is my hero! Thanks to him, I get to have another chance at living again, and isn’t that just…swell.”

In all honesty you didn’t really try hard to sound sincere but by the look of Wilbur, it seemed to work just fine.

“Right?! I’ve been meaning to visit him in the prison if you’d like to tag along with me the day I go? I’m sure he’d love to see you, since he revived you and all.”

Oh, you were sure Dream wanted to see you. He wants a boon- a trade. Why else would he revive two of the most historically significant people on the server if not to make some sort of deal with them? Sure, Wilbur is as gullible and carefree as ever but you at least still had scraps of mental stability and level-headedness that made you all the more a force to be reckoned with. Not to mention Wilbur doesn’t know that Dream killed you, but telling him that now would blow your act. You decide to keep your thoughts to yourself.

“Yeahh, sure! I’d love to go, just tell me when.”

And that’s the end of that conversation. The two of you walk to wherever Wilbur is going. It honestly surprised you how he couldn’t see through your apathy. From what you remembered, he was keen on being wise about people and their intentions but you guess years and years in hell do things to a person.

Somehow, you’re stuck in your mind for long enough that only now do you feel the sharp winter air making the hairs on your arms and legs stand straight up.

“Wait, snow?”

The tundra was a drastic contrast to the void you were once in with schlatt and Mexican Dream. Instead of black as far as you could see, it was a blinding powdery white.

‘Mexican Dream would’ve liked it here, probably would have tried to snort the snow like coke.’

You weren’t built for the snow, though. Hell- you didn’t even have a memory of anyone living in a tundra when you were alive! Why was Wilbur even in the tundra? You didn’t have the energy to ask, still feeling brittle and tired, back aching from laying on the dry dirt longer than expected earlier.

“Yeah, just figured I’d show you around! Plus I already need to grab a couple things from an ender chest and this was the closest by. I’m a very busy man, after all.”

But why were there so many footprints in the snow? As far as you knew, Wilbur was the only one who lived out in the tundra- and he didn’t seem like the active type at all. There were strange shapes as well, large hooved footprints. However, all thinking comes to a halt at the same time Wilbur does.

“We’re here! You might see some familiar faces cause I live with people.”

Well, that answers the footsteps as well as the tall red-caped piglin hybrid giving leftover bones and raw meat to a polar bear.

“TECHNO! TECHNO, HEY!”

He tenses up for a second, you could tell he wanted to be left alone but that didn’t really bother Wilbur. But you recognize him. The name and the apparel- that guy is Technoblade. The same Technoblade who stood by your side while the two of you blew L’manburg up for the last time, and now the Technoblade who resides in a cottage shrouded in snow.

“Technoblade?!”

Hearing your voice being carried by the crisp winter air, he turns around immediately to see you and Wilbur a few feet away. Techno stood there dumbfounded, but he didn’t know why. He wasn’t particularly joyed or ecstatic to see you, but he was at the very least happy to see an old ally back.

“Y/n? Oh my god, now we’ve got TWO of you? We don’t have room for another one, alright?”

For some it might be hard to see the meaning behind his words. Luckily you’ve talked to him enough to where you can tell he’s being playful.

“Don’t worry, I’ll just build directly on top of your house. Besides, who WOULDN'T want to be near me 24-7?”

“Me-“

“Oh f*ck off.”

You would’ve thought that that was Wilbur due to the similar accent, but there was something off. The slight gruffness and age, yet still succeeding in sounding mellow.

“Phil! How’s my favorite old bird doing?”

He gives you a face. Not a happy one like you expected, rather a face that says ‘really?’ Probably because of the old comment. The two of you briefly hug, Phil’s tattered wings stretching out slightly.

“I’m doing alright, are you okay? Here, would you like to come in? It’s pretty cold outside, you probably haven’t seen snow in a couple years.”

He wasn’t wrong after all. You were freezing your toes off and were itching for lemon tea. The kind Phil used to make when he, Technoblade and Dream discussed plans on destroying L’manburg. Ah, the good ol days…

“Of course! We’ve got a lot to talk about- you still have that old chess board?”

“Yes, but first you have some explaining to do about the fire over in that tree, Y/n. You just got back and you’re already burning down forests?!”

“Did someone say fire?”

Techno has an eager stride in his step once he also looks back to see the raging lights of orange and red in the nearby forest.

“Don’t worry Phil! It’s just- ahh, a controlled burn..?”

Your tone of voice is unsure when a black crow shoots down from the sky into the snow in front of you. It’s left wing is charred and has smoke dancing from the burn. Philza looks at you with a stern glare.

“Oh my f*cking god…that’s it! We’re all going inside now, you too Techno. I don’t want you and Y/n going on a rampage.”

#krabs kreates #mcyt x platonic reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x you #mcyt x reader #dsmp x platonic reader #dsmp x y/n #dsmp x you #dsmp x reader #philza x reader #philza x y/n #philza x you #techno x reader #techno x y/n #techno x you

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years

Text

Fast and Slow - Harry Styles smut

The one where your dom lent you to Harry and he’s very eager to have you.

Warnings: smut, oral sex (m), p in v, overstimulation, sex bench, sex fluids, cursing, bdsm, restraints, sharing kink?, Harry is a soft dom and calls you “little one” a lot.

A/N: Day 12 of kinktober and the prompts were being lent to another dom and “say my name + louder”. I’m actually really proud of this one because I managed to incorporate another prompt that I never thought I’d be able to use on my fics, so I guess this idea of doing kinktober to explore some kinks is really working for me. As always (for kinktober fics), unrevised because I literally just finished it and I’m already dead inside.

Harry’s P.O.V.

I did my best to close the door behind me making as little noise as possible. Still, I noticed by the way her muscles tensed up that she’d heard me approach, and the anticipation was visibly affecting her.

Clicking my tongue, I allowed myself this first moment to explore her naked body with my eyes as she remained knelt by the foot of the bed, her head lowered to avoid meeting my gaze. She’d followed my orders perfectly, as I’d come to expect by what her dom explained of her, and I could feel my cock already hardening on my pants, the only piece of clothing I still wore.

There was nothing I appreciated more than a good, obedient little girl. I already knew she’d be perfect for me. But I’d known that long before, the first time I laid my eyes on her, even. It was an immediate attraction, one that I couldn’t act on simply because she already belonged to someone else.

So when her dom announced that they were up to experiment with sharing, I was quick to jump on the opportunity to have her, at least for one night. “You really are beautiful, aren’t you?” I asked, running a single finger under her chin so I could raise her eyes to meet mine, and I lost my breath at that simple connection.

She just had this thing about her, such sensuality seemed to lie just beneath the surface of her gaze. I felt it deep in my bones every time we were out for drinks and I had the hardest time trying to keep my hands to myself, trying to remember that she was with my friend.

And as much as the outings proved difficult to me, I couldn’t find it in myself to care. Not when my friendship with her dom meant that I got to see her at least once a week. Not when it allowed me the chance of being here with her, in this situation.

Well, first things first, I knew we had communicated pretty extensively prior to this session, but I felt like I should run over the most basic rule once more. Even though all I wanted to do was to jam my cock in her pretty little throat.

“What’s your safe word?” I asked, still holding her jaw so she’d look me in the eyes and see just how seriously I actually took this. I thought I saw the shadow of a smile pass over her face, but it was gone as quickly as it came, and she was back to the picture perfect submissive front.

“Red for stopping, yellow for slowing down and three taps when I need to stop and can’t speak.” I did smile at her answer, satisfied at how thorough she’d been. It was clear too, by the way she ran over her words and the glint in her eye, that she was just as eager as I was to get this started.

I wouldn’t keep her waiting much longer. We did have only one night, after all. “Good job, little one.” I acknowledged as I straightened up, keeping my crotch on her eye level before nodding to her. “Take me off my trousers.”

Her hands trembled slightly as she worked on my belt before going for the zipper, but it was clear by the way she bit on her lower lip that it was from excitement. I licked my lips at the prospect of the night that we had ahead of us, knowing she was right in getting anxious for it. I had a lot planned for us.

I watched with clear amusement as her breath bitched at the sight of my cock, almost hard already, and it was obvious that she was entranced by it. “Go ahead,” I signaled, once again nodding towards her. “Lick it. Give it a taste.”

She looked up at me with those bright, wide eyes and I had to bite on my inner cheek to contain a groan of desire that threatened to make its way into our one-person conversation. But then, she stuck out her tongue, running it over the length of my member and I was a goner, a loud moan escaping my lips.

I’d always been a vocal person in bed.

“Okay, stop. Hands behind your back. Open your mouth for me.” Her mouth fell open to obey my request easily, her tongue sticking out once more like she couldn’t get enough of my taste already. It was hard to keep the smile off my face, and I could see that she appreciated the sight of my dimples as she couldn’t take her eyes off of it.

Once, she’d been wine drunk in one of our friendly outings, and she admitted she thought they were extremely cute. I’d started to smile even more around her after that, always keeping an attentive eye to watch her fascination with my dimples whenever they appeared.

“‘M gonna fuck your face now, okay, love?” She nodded, mouth still open, eyes connected to mine. I had to chuckle at the pure image of compliant enthusiasm that she portrayed. I, too, couldn’t wait to have her mouth wrapped around my cock.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

His hand curled around my nape and he pulled me to meet his member by it, the other one coming to cradle my cheek as he slowly penetrated my open mouth. The hiss he let out as he fed me inch by inch of his beautiful cock was like music to my ears.

God, he was beautiful. I couldn’t believe he actually wanted to dom me and now here I was, with his cock halfway down my throat. I felt so unbelievably lucky, and even more incredibly horny. How could it be that he didn’t have a sub anymore? I would drop to my knees instantly, any time he asked me to.

I knew I should feel bad about thinking like that when it was only a loan - I was with another dom, I wouldn’t be with Harry again after tonight. But I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t how I felt.

Specially when he threw his head back after I managed to swallow his entire length, his curls bouncing from the action and the sweetest little moans escaping from his beautiful pink lips. God, he was beautiful.

“Fuck, you’re precious,” he complimented, suddenly looking down at me with those incredible green eyes. A shiver ran down my spine at the connection, and the most predatory smirk painted his lips, making me whine around the cock on my lips. “Ready?” He asked, running his thumb over my cheekbones, his hands making my already hot face feel even warmer. When I managed to slightly nod, he did too, immediately pulling almost completely out of my mouth before thrusting back in.

The instinctive reaction to gag was undeniable, but despite the tears that immediately appeared on my eyes, I forced myself to breathe deeply through my nose and focus on the symphony that Harry was creating, with his moans and gasps and the wet sounds of gurgling and spit from his thrusts.

“You’re a little cockslut, aren’t you, sweetheart? So eager to please, I could see it in your eyes just how much you wanted my cock, huh?” I moaned around his member at the dirty words he so effortlessly threw around. I’d never thought Harry would be this vocal during sex, but god if it didn’t make me horny. In fact, I was so fucking wet that it was dripping down onto the floor of his bedroom, running down my thighs and ankles.

It was so damn filthy, and I loved every second of it. He pulled me by my hair so I could lick his balls while I gathered my breath, and I immediately put one in my mouth, rolling it before doing the same with the other. By the way he whined, I could see he loved it.

“Come back here, I wanna cum down your throat.” The prospect was one that I very much ached for, since my pussy was throbbing at the perspective. I didn’t even feel any hurt from the way he forcefully thrusted into my mouth before he started to roughly facefuck me, I was just too ecstatic about bringing him this much pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum, love. I’m cumming.” I loved that he kept the same nickname that he usually called me in social situations. It had always made me feel tingly, but when he was filling my mouth with his warm liquid, it was a different experience entirely.

Harry’s P.O.V.

It took a lot of strength and control not to fall down on my knees after cumming on her lips. She made me weak, it was ridiculous and dangerous but I was already addicted to the feeling.

I took some minutes to catch my breath before offering my hand to help her up, and when she accepted it, I couldn’t help but to trail my eyes down her body, appreciating each inch of skin available for my gaze to explore. But there was another way in which I wanted to survey her body.

“Come here, little one.” I took her to the edge of the room where I’d prepared the sex bench, observing her reactions to see how she would take it. She didn’t look like she recognized it, but she also didn’t seem repelled by it, which I took as a win.

“I take it you haven’t used this before.” She nodded, glancing at me before averting her eyes. “You can look at me when I’m talking to you, sweetheart.” The look of surprise she gave me left me with an unpleasant feeling. I knew it was common in bdsm, especially with more stricter doms, to train their subs so that they’re always visibly submissive. But the idea of someone missing the chance of having her beautiful eyes on them left me in despair. It left me feeling like she wasn’t properly appreciated, and that didn’t sit well with me at all.

“Are you comfortable with exploring this with me?” When she immediately nodded, an easy smile appeared on my lips, and I allowed her to see it flourish. “Then hop on it, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see you spread open for my viewing pleasure.”

She bit her lip at my admission, and I helped her settle on the bench before strapping the restraints over her ankles and arms. Then, after a quick caress of her cheek, I assumed my position behind her, biting my own lip at the sight that welcomed me.

Her wetness was already dripping over her pussy lips, and I instinctively raised my hand to open her for me, checking her weeping hole before quickly plunging two fingers inside of her, making her gasp.

“You’re drenched, love.” She agreed with me, albeit a little breathlessly, and I chuckled before wrapping my lips around the two fingers that had been inside of her, tasting her wetness. She was so sweet, it tasted heavenly in my mouth.

Humming in appreciation, I collected some more of her juices before sticking my fingers inside of her again, this time in search of her sweet spot. When I heard her gasp again, I knew I’d reached my goal.

“Does it feel good when I touch you like this?” I asked, thrusting my fingers in and out of her, making sure to hit that special spongy place every time my digits were deep within her pussy.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I cried out at the feeling of Harry’s fingers inside of me, after spending so long with this burning arousal inside of me, taking care of him without being touched. He fucked me so furiously, it barely seemed like he retreated his fingers at all, and soon enough, I was cumming with his digits pressing inside that spot that had my eyes rolling to the back of my head, my legs spasming as I felt the urge to close them, stop him from continuing to stimulate me, but I couldn’t. Not when I was tied to this bench, vulnerable to whatever wish he wanted to express with my body.

I finally understood the reason for the chair.

When he didn’t stop thrusting his fingers in and out of me, another orgasm quickly rolled in, making me spasm against the leather seat, begging him for something - to keep fucking me or to stop, I couldn’t say.

Still, it seemed like he knew just what I wanted to say, or at the very least, what I needed in that moment, because even though he didn’t remove his fingers - or even stopped moving whatsoever - he drastically slowed down the movement, opting to insert them in me at a snail’s pace.

“You like it here, don’t you?” He asked, clearly laughing at my agony, and if I could, I would have laughed too. “You know, I like having you here, like this, too. It’s been so long since I had a sub, I didn’t remember how much I missed it until I saw you knelt down by my bed.”

I was trying very hard to focus on what he was saying, but it was getting harder by the second, since despite the brutality of the last two orgasms he collected from me, the calm pace with which he kept on fucking me with my fingers was very quickly reigniting the fire of desire within me.

“Of course, it could just be you. You know, I had no idea you were into this kind of thing, when we met. If I’d known…” He didn’t continue, but I understood what he wanted to say nonetheless. If we’d known about this aspect of our personalities, perhaps I’d be his sub now.

The idea of being Harry’s, of having this every single day paired with the feeling of his digits still pressing against my sweet spot incited another release from me, and now I could hear just how wet I’d become.

“Feeling a tad overstimulated, love?” He teased, finally pulling his fingers from me and granting me some relief. I heard a sucking sound that brought shivers down my spine at the realisation that he had sucked my wetness from his digits, but before I could focus too much on that, I felt the blunt head of his cock against my hole, just slightly rubbing it in.

“Think you can handle just one more orgasm? Wanna feel you clench around my cock, sweetheart. Think you can do this for me?” I don’t think I’d ever nodded as quickly for anything in my entire life, but I felt plenty compensated for my enthusiasm when I felt him pushing inside of me, stretching me open to accept his long cock.

“Fuck,” he groaned when he finally bottomed out, the position I was in due to the sex bench assuring that he was perfectly nested against my sweet spot and I think the sensation was overwhelming for him too, by the way he inadvertently jerked his hips, hitting my g-spot after he was finally completely in.

I didn’t think I could feel better than I felt in that moment, impaled on his cock, but that was before he started thrusting in and out of me. The overstimulation had my nerves on fire, every single one of my cells screaming out for me, as I was too, and then his voice pierced through my senses, begging me to say his name, scream his name, until I did just so, exactly when I felt that warm pit of arousal explode inside of me.

“Louder,” he ordered, his fingers burying themselves on the flesh of my ass, and I couldn’t disobey him. All I knew was his name, all I could do was to scream it from the top of my lungs, desperate to release some of the astounding sensations I felt travel through me.

Harry moaned my name when he came, too. It was the first thing I remember focusing on when I stopped hearing the beat of my own heart on my ears, followed suit by the feeling of his warm cum dripping from my abused pussy lips and running down my legs.

He scooped some of it up, careful not to overwhelm me, before feeding it to me, and I was more than glad to wrap my lips around his fingers and suck them just how I’d done to his cock.

“You know…” He started after he’d released me and helped me put on a robe, and was now massaging some lotion on my wrists. He looked nervous, almost unsure of himself, and the idea made me curious. “Call me crazy all you want, we can pretend I never even asked it after you get out of here.”

He took a deep breath before continuing and I felt my heartbeat pick up as I realised what he could be about to ask. “Would you consider becoming mine? My sub, I mean? We can talk to…”

I interrupted him by throwing myself at him, wrapping my arms around his shoulder as I buried my face on his neck. “I’d love to, Harry.” He didn’t immediately react, but then, I felt him reciprocate my hug before feeling his warm hands rubbing over my back.

“I’d love to too, sweetheart.”

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aggressive-positivity-network · 3 years

Note

do any of the mercs play board games?

Mercopoly (Board Game

Headcanons)

Scout:

You think he has enough of an attention span to play something that doesn’t involve sweating out his energy drinks?

Hell no!

He gets very bored very quickly, especially with something complex like chess.

He’ll play cards sometimes, but only Crazy Eights and Go Fish - that’s all he knows how to play.

However, there is one true board game he plays occasionally: Candy Land.

It’s one of the few board games that you don’t really have to read the rules for, and there isn’t any writing on the cards.

However, he only asks to play it when he’s not feeling very well.

Medic even has a page in his medical journal for the mercs that says, and I quote:

“The Scout has an extremely short attention span, and if an activity isn’t active or immersive, he will not stay long. If at any point he chooses a sedentary activity, a check-up is in order.”

As sad as it is, a request to play Candyland is a good way to know if Scout needs a little extra reassurance or support.

By the end of the game, Scout usually feels more himself, whether he wins or not.

Engie is especially good with Scout when he’s this way, being the one of the most emotionally sensitive of the group. But he also knows Scout would never admit straight-away how he was feeling, so he usually has a more fun way of getting answers.

“You feelin’ more like a King Candy or a Lord Licorice?”

“...Fudge Monster.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah...”

Spy:

If you ask him, he will most likely go off on a tangent about chess, and how it’s a game of strategy, deception, and crushing your enemy with your wit.

He scoffs at any other game, and constantly makes fun of several of his more intelligent peers for finding interest in them.

“You are mercenaries. Blood-thirsty killers of men. And you are playing ‘Hungry, Hungry Hippos’ like a hoarde of kindergartners?”

But one thing he cannot resist is Sorry.

He considers it above normal board games because it has strategy - or at least that what he says.

He actually just likes it because it’s a game of revenge, which is like a drug to him.

He’s gotten so good at it that if he asks you to play Sorry with him, it’s almost guaranteed that he’s mad at you and just wants to let off some steam by giving you a horrendous loss. However, occasionally, he’s the one who loses.

Spy isn’t a poor sport, exactly - he’s too cultured for that - but sometimes his pride outweighs his manners and he convinces himself that the other player cheated through made up signs of deception.

He simply “allows” them to win because he “doesn’t want to make a fuss.”

But god help the unfortunate soul who decides to rub their win in his face.

Sniper had won five games in a row, and it was clear Spy was getting hot under the collar.

Sniper ended their games with a mischievous, “You’ll get ‘em next time, tiger.” and a small pat on his shoulder.

Spy immediately saw red, grabbed Sniper’s hand, and before the aussie knew it, he was against a concrete wall with a butterfly knife to his throat.

“I could kill you right now. Your final cry for Medic will be drowned in blood, and I would leave you here to die a painful, dramatic death. You’ll be replaced with a rusted trash can of a bot until they could grow another clone of you. Every memory will be gone. The team will be shrouded in grief, not because of losing you, but losing what the clone can never have. And I shall bide my time, ask the clone to play the same game, and kill them when they win. Another clone, another kill. And again. And again. And again. You think the Manns give a damn as long as their work is getting done? You will never be able to form a single thought before I spill your blood - caught in an eternal prisoner’s dilemma where you always lose.”

After gathering his bearings, Sniper finally spoke.

“Is this about your takeout?”

Spy scoffed.

“Do you really think - !”

“Tonight, my treat if you don’t kill me.”

Spy squinted.

“Egg rolls?”

“And an extra order of crab rangoon.”

“Your treat?”

“Yep.”

“How do I know you won’t poison me?”

“Chemical test before and after the food arrives.”

“How do I know Medic isn’t in on it?”

“Miss Pauling as a witness and Scout as an overseer. Pauling’s main objective is to keep us alive, and Scout can’t do bloody anything subtle, even if he wanted to. You can also play back the cameras in the lab, if the mood really struck ya.”

Spy held Sniper against the wall for a minute or two while he thought it all over, then let Sniper fall to the ground.

“I don’t need your sympathy, bushman. But you had better keep your end of the deal. I am the only backstabber around here.”

Demo:

Can’t even stay awake long enough to play most board games.

On the rare chance that he’s sober, he, Engie, and Medic like to play Monopoly.

Here’s the thing: you should never ask a drunkard, an engineer, and a sadist genius to play Monopoly together. It will not end well.

They have been playing the same game for years, with new rules in place and physical extensions to the board in order to try and end the game. Every other Friday, they take the weekend to try and finish it.

However, it all ends up fruitless.

Demo is usually the one keeping the peace, since he is the least competitive out of the three. That isn’t to say he isn’t clawing for the win as much as the other two, but he is definitely the least invested. He’s mostly staying out of principle.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, ‘s ta ne’er give up, e’en when the goin’s gettin’ tough. Roll the dice, doc.”

Despite his confidence, he’s not even sure what he would do if he or anyone else won. It would seem more like a relief than a celebration.

Medic:

He’s the one who started the Eternal Monopoly game, which has led to some theories that the game itself came straight from hell, and is one of the many punishments used on sinners. The box does smell a bit of brimstone…

He seems to enjoy the chaos that each round brings and the challenge of coming up with new rules to the game. To any outsider, his commentary and directions are complete nonsense.

“According to zhe ‘Calvinball Rule,’ as stated by Engineer, and the ‘Double Kill,’ as stated by myself, since the current time ends vis a three and ve all received at least two kills zhis veek, ve need to double every other roll and whomever loses zhe resulting game of ‘Bim Bum’ vill have to go to zhe Purple Jail.”

The rules and mechanics are like an unholy amalgamation of Monpoly, Sorry, chess, D&D, Bluff, and poker.

However, when Medic isn’t stapling pages of rules together, he likes to play a nice, relaxing game of checkers with Heavy.

Both of them are excellent checker players, but neither of them care who wins.

In fact, they usually talk over the game, taking the other player’s pieces as one of them shares a story from that day’s battle.

They’ve even played while Heavy was in surgery - leading to many unfortunate times when Medic had to fish a piece out of Heavy’s intestines.

One would think that a genius doctor would also have a passion for chess, but he expresses his disdain for it almost every time the checker board is brought out.

“Ach, people think chess is such an intelligent sport. Let me tell you, liebling, it is terribly overrated. If zhe devil can play chess, anyvun can. He might as vell just give souls avay, vis those shaky claws of his.”

Engineer:

Being the engineer, he is usually the one to add to the Eternal Monopoly.

Pieces, board extensions, cards, trivia - it gives him a nice break from all the weaponry.

He’s usually the one who remembers all the mechanics and rules, and serves as the judge if rules contradict each other.

“Alright, now let’s see here…we’ve got the Infinity Loop over here, but now you’ve got the Time Travel card…how many years? Infinite? Ho boy…looks like I’m gonna have to add a Hilbert’s Hotel square somewhere. Hold on…”

Despite his affinity for Eternal Monopoly, Engineer will play almost any board game. He learns new rules and figures quickly, and enjoys the challenges that brings.

However, if he’s particularly burnt out, he likes to take a break by playing Jenga. He and Spy have a friendly rivalry, since Engie can tell which blocks are supporting and Spy has quick fingers.

Spy, oddly, is a lot more amiable losing in Jenga - he knows Engie won’t think less of him - but Engineer hates when the bricks fall over. Not because it means he lost, but because, to him, it’s a failure on his part…even if it was someone else that knocked it over.

He’s made several blueprints for the perfect Jenga game, but has concluded that no human hand could put it into practice.

During one particularly bad day, Engie bumped the table, causing the whole column to come crashing down. Spy had already recovered from the noise, but Engie was still standing there, stone-faced.

His eyes were covered by his goggles, but it was clear he was crying.

Several of his machines had broken on the job, and to him, this was just another egregious mistake.

Spy carefully put the blocks back in the container, and Engie came to his senses.

“I’m real sorry, Spy. Maybe another time…?”

Spy only nodded. He was thinking.

The next time they played, Spy brought out a different container.

Instead of wood, the bricks seemed to be made of a sturdy foam.

“They fall a bit more…quietly,” Spy explained. He dropped one, and it only made a small bouncing sound. “Pyro uses these, but they allowed me to borrow it.”

Engie was a bit skeptical at first, since it was a new material, but he got the hang of it rather quickly. He was almost ecstatic the first time it fell - the blocks barely made any sound at all!

After a few games, Spy had to leave for an assignment. Engie put a hand on their arm.

“Thank ya, Spy. Maybe you ain’t the cold-blooded backstabber I thought you were.”

Spy chuckled, but said little else. He didn’t want to admit that noise sensitivity plagued him as well.

Pyro:

Pyro loves board games, and has quite the collection in their room.

Each plastic piece is at least a little melted, and all the boxes have two or three scorch marks.

Hungry Hungry Hippos, Candyland, and Uno are among her favorites.

He is an absolute beast at Uno, though.

They take each game very seriously, especially when they can convince the whole team to play.

As you can imagine, it’s pure chaos - it even led to a rule in the Merc Guidebook: “When playing Uno with three or more players with the inclusion of a Pyro, at least one Mann Co. representative and/or a mediating Medic must be present.”

Pyro has been known the hide cards, bribe players, or even try to set flame to competition. Playing Uno is almost like a mission, with weapon preparation and Spy posing as other players.

The mercs even have a betting stand that Sniper runs. All parties have lost a lot of money that way.

It’s pretty much the only time outside of battle that the team remembers how cruel and malicious Pyro can be.

Sniper:

Conventional board games aren’t exactly his forté, but he does enjoy a bit of cards every once in a while - Solitaire being his favorite.

He even has a pack of cards in his Sniper Square for that exact purpose. It allows him the pass the time without having to look away from his targets too often.

On occasion, he could be pressed to play poker, but only if the stakes weren’t monetary (i.e candy pieces, crackers, duties, etc.).

His favorite part of every match is shuffling the cards. Pretty much every merc could shuffle cards, but Sniper could make them almost float with how quick his fingers and wrists moved. He always began the game with a new trick he learned, which delighted his fellow players (usually Spy, Engineer, Medic, and Demo).

You could always tell if he had a busy day because he would avoid tricks with too much movement, which would be murder on his sore fingers and hands.

Pyro is currently learning card tricks from Sniper, and show off what they learn at the beginning of every Uno game.

Heavy:

He isn’t a huge fan of the bright, plastic-y board games that Pyro has, although he will play them if asked.

It’s mostly because of how complicated the rules are and the fact there are almost never a Russian translation for the directions.

He always prefers checkers, cards, or mancala, which he almost exclusively plays with Medic because he’s the only one who speaks fluent Russian.

Heavy can play a mean game of mancala, though, and it’s the only game he can beat Medic at.

Soldier:

The only games he will play are Battleship and Uno - but only after Miss Pauling convinced him it was “American enough” because the game had red, white, and blue cards.

He prefers the electronic Battleship because of the sound effects and voices. However, if it’s out of batteries, he’ll make his own sound effects.

Miss Pauling is the best at pretending to be a commander, so she’s usually the one playing with him - but, sometimes, Demo gets in on the action, too.

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