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gojomamashouse · 5 months

Text

I certainly can. And I did. Well, sort of. I took some creative liberties with this one. Crossposted on Ao3.

Warnings: 18+ Content Vaginal sex, Praise kink, Loss of virginity (both reader and Mike), soft!dom Mike.

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x Reader

Summary: From the name written on your sneakers to the hickey on your neck, Mike had left his mark on you in more ways than one.

Words: 5.8k

According to fandom wiki, Mike is 25 in the movie. The timeline of this story is based on this fact.

In Permanent Marker

1995

Mike has a problem. An even bigger problem than his annoying younger sister, or the bills he cannot pay that keep piling up. That problem is you, his new next-door neighbour.

It all began when he had been unloading the boxes from the car, calling out to Abby as she disappeared to explore the new house. The place was small, but enough for the two of them. More importantly, it was as affordable as it could get, given the savings his parents left behind, the money from the government, and his new job. That was all he really needed.

"Need help, there?"

A voice broke him from his thoughts, a voice belonging to you. He did a double take as he looked to his side towards you, nearly dropping the box in shock. He blinks as if you're nothing more than a hallucination, induced by his lack of sleep, dehydration, and the summer heat. Because there was no way that you were standing there. Someone his age. Someone so attractive. Someone exactly his type and talking to him. You take notice of his shocked expression.

"My folks and I saw you from the window," you point to the house left of his, "thought I could lend a hand.”

"Yeah. Yeah, uh," he nods eagerly, breaking eye contact as he fumbles over his words. He looks back towards the house, "If you could watch my little sister while I unload these. She’s somewhere inside…”

“You’ve got it,” you flash him a smile.

—

He’s sweating and close to passing out as he places the last box down in the front hallway, bracing himself against the wall as he catches his breath. He then looks around. There’s no furniture yet. He couldn’t afford movers to help move the couch or the kitchen table from his parent’s old house, instead opting to sell the furniture and find cheaper options once moved in. That meant he’d be eating on the floor until he had time off work again. This also meant he’d have to take Abby table-shopping and listen to her complain every time she picked something out of his price range, then cry the whole drive back home. He groans to himself, annoyed by his endless stream of thoughts. He supposes that’s just adulthood, now. There’s always something to think about.

He hears giggling from down the hallway, grabbing his attention enough to raise himself from the wall. He creeps towards the sound, peeking past Abby's door. A box was open on the floor, toys and crafts scattered across the carpet. You sit cross-legged in the middle of the room at Abby’s side and she’s pointing to her drawings, chattering away.

He wonders how you make it look so easy.

—

"I don't like it here." Abby tugs on the leg of his jeans, "Can we go back?"

It’s the last thing Mike wants to hear the morning after moving in, his back and arms still sore from all that he carried. He looks down to see her lips were pulled into a frown, her brows furrowed. He's leaning against the kitchen counter, drinking instant coffee from a mug he'd managed to dig out from one of the kitchenware boxes, staring at all the shit he has left to do. And, of course, his sister could never let him do that in peace.

"This is where we live now."

"Why?"

"Because it is."

"I don't want to live here."

And I don't want to work shitty hours for shitty pay just to afford this dump, he thinks to himself.

Still, he can't blame her. The place is a downgrade. The toilet in the main bathroom doesn't really flush, her room is half the size of the one at their parent's old place, and he’d discovered more than a few suspicious stains on some of the walls and carpeting around the house.

"Well, that's just too bad."

"I want to go back!" She shouted, her little fingers digging harder into the fabric of his jeans, now trying to tug his leg. He tries to nudge her off, shaking his leg just enough to make her lose her grip, but she doesn't budge. He sighs to himself.

She's at that age. Five years old, and a complete menace. She was smarter than she looked and had begun to realize that sometimes creating a fuss could get him to bend the rules for her, which now meant she was constantly defying him. Constantly picking a fight. Constantly whining about something. And as much as he loved her he could not stand to hear another tantrum, especially not this early in the morning.

"Stop it, Abby. I'm not dealing with this today."

"Nu-uh!"

She screams when he tugs her away with his hands, lifting her in the air while she tries to kick and shove him away. He knows he's bound to have bruises from where she kicks his torso and scratches where her nails dig into his skin. Had he any energy left in him, he might have been tempted to raise his voice at her. That's one good thing to come out of his restless nights, at least.

The doorbell rings and she's still whining when he places her down on the floor. He kneels to her level, hands on either of her little shoulders.

"We can talk about it later, okay?" He lowers his voice, desperate for her to be quiet. Anything for her to be quiet. "Behave. And quit being such a baby."

His words were enough to render her silent, by some miracle, and so he goes to the door, only to see you standing there. You . He knows he's ogling again and he hates himself for it but he can't help himself, not when you're so pretty. He leans against the doorframe, clearing his throat.

"Hey, uh. What are you doing here?"

"Good morning to you, too. Thought you might need more help," You lean forward, taking a peek inside the place and noting all the boxes, "Judging by all this, I guess I thought correctly."

"Guilty as charged," he holds his hands up, cherishing the sound of your laugh.

The moment doesn't last long. He fails to notice that behind him, his sister is teary-eyed, her lower lip quivering. You furrow your brows, about to say something, but the little girl beats you to it.

"You— you jerk!" Abby finally lets out, and you stand dumbfounded at the door, watching the crying girl. She turns to Mike. "I hate you!"

She runs off to some room somewhere and slams the door, the distant sound of sobs easily heard from down the hallway where you two stood. While you stood there in shock, Mike had grown used to these outbursts, but it didn't leave him entirely unfazed. There was still a tug on his heart like there always was.

"She's just having a moment right now," he sighs, his fingers rubbing his temples, "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"You're not going to go and talk to her?"

"She hates me. Didn't you hear?"

"You know that's not true," you shove past him, your hand lingering on his shoulder for a moment longer which certainly did not go unnoticed, "come on."

"What do I even say?"

"You're going to go apologize, dumbass."

That's how he found himself standing outside his sister's door. He was about to simply walk in, until you stopped him, your hand on top of his as he reached for the knob.

"Knock first."

He would've asked why but he's too distracted by how your little touches keep making his face grow hotter, so he simply nods and does as you say, raising his fist to the door. He hears Abby's sobs halt the moment he does. He looks to you, and you nod, as if to signal him to start talking.

"Abs?"

There's a sniffle. "Go away."

"Look, I'm sorry for hurting you. Just open the door." You toss him a glare, "Please?"

There's a pause.

"Liar," she hisses, "you're only sorry 'cause they're making you."

Mike is about to retort, but you raise your hand to silence him.

"Abby, we both want to make sure you're alright. Could you please open the door so we can talk?"

There's a pause and then a shuffle, the sound of her moving from the floor to go and open the door. She's red in the face, snot-nosed and teary-eyed. Mike's heart can't help but break at the sight. He's an idiot. A complete and utter idiot.

"I-I'm not a baby," she blinks at Mike, lifting her arm to wipe her snot on her sleeve, "Y-you're always s-so mean to me. I hate that."

"I didn't mean it. I just, uh... I say stuff sometimes." He frowns, a trembling in his voice. He speaks softly as if it will compensate for all the harsh words spoken prior, "I promise I won't say mean stuff anymore. Honest."

"Pinky promise?"

She raises her pinky finger.

"Yeah. Pinky promise."

He raises his own, letting her little finger curl around his. She quickly wipes her tears away.

The rest of the day is spent doing whatever Abby wants. Mike discovers quickly that you seem to love spoiling her. You take her to the park, let her unpack all her toys and leave them tossed all around the house. You end up ordering pizza at her request, as well, and by the end of the day, she’s saying she wishes you were her older sibling instead. Though it’s said jokingly, it still pierces him through the heart.

The day ends with a tired Abby curled up in her sleeping bag on the floor of her room. Now he's with you, you sitting atop the counter at his side while he places the leftover pizza slices from the takeout boxes into ziplock bags. If he had it his way, the day would have ended with all the moving boxes being unpacked, but he supposes a happy Abby makes his life a hell of a lot easier than an unhappy one.

"She's a lot easier than most her age."

"You're kidding, right?"

"I'm the oldest ' kid ' in this neighbourhood. I've babysat for practically every family around here," you sip your drink, "she was very quick to forgive you. Not just any kid does that."

Garett had been the same way. Every prank he played, every cruel joke, he forgave him for because that’s just what older brothers do. The difference being that he was a child back then, not an adult. He may be Abby’s older brother by blood, but he needed to be more than that now. She needed him to be more than that.

He finishes packaging the last slice and throws the leftovers in the fridge. He's now fidgeting with the sleeve of his hoodie— a poor choice of clothing for the midst of a summer heat wave, but he didn't exactly have lots of options. He supposes he should add clothing shopping to his already long to-do list.

“What am I doing?” He says aloud, “I can’t do this.”

“Don’t say that.”

"This always happens. I get annoyed, she gets hurt, and it’s going to happen again.”

"Nobody's made for this at our age,” you gesture around at the house, then at him, “You're bound to fuck up, that's just inevitable."

"Yeah, thanks,” he deadpans.

"That’s not what I meant. You live and you learn, that's what you do. No one's perfect but we can always try.”

“What if me trying isn’t enough?”

“It’s better than not trying at all.”

He looks back down the hallway, at Abby’s door. Does she care that he's trying? Does she know how much he has sacrificed to give her a semblance of a normal life? He scoffs at himself internally. She's a child, of course she doesn't. That's not her fault. It’s not her responsibility either. She’s the kid, and he’s the adult now. It’s unfair on both sides but that’s the way things are.

"Thank you. For all the help, and everything," He finally says, turning to you.

"That's what neighbours are for, right?" You’re hopping off the counter. It was dark outside now, and fair to assume you’d be on your way home. Only, you halt in your tracks for a moment. "Wait, one more thing."

You pull out one of those disposable cameras from the pharmacy. It’s scratched and beaten up, evidence of its use. He freezes up when he feels your arm draping around him to pull him into the frame and snap a quick picture. He blinks from the flash, and you laugh at the way his eyes squint, shoving the camera back into your pocket.

"The hell?" He raises a brow, "that's going to be an awful one, just so you know."

"I don't care if photos look good. It's about the memories and all that." you roll your eyes, "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early. We're going to finish unpacking.”

You're out the door before he can even reply.

—

He starts to learn who you are, piece by piece. He learns that you don't know a single thing about keeping your curtains drawn shut and that you're completely oblivious to how he's seen you in your room in your pyjamas at night, talking on the phone while you twirl the telephone cord around your finger. He learns that you go to college out of state, which is why you're so insistent on taking photos of everything you can because you get homesick so easily. He learns, that because of that, he won't be seeing you after the summer for many months and struggles to figure out why that thought leaves a dreaded ache in his heart.

The ache only grows the more time he spends with you, whether it’s with Abby or one-on-one. He thinks he’s going to die when he sees you packing up your car at the end of the summer, but offers to help you out regardless.

"Have fun," he says to you, hating how disingenuous the words feel on his tongue.

Your car is now packed, and you're on the steps, him standing on the stone path below. You look up at him with a smile while you're lacing up your shoes. It's those damn shoes you always wear, always torn up and dirty and desperately in need of being replaced. He's not one to talk when it comes to proper footwear, but he swears they are only a thread away from being torn apart.

"I'll try."

You finish doing up your laces, and pull out a permanent marker from your pocket, handing it to him. He gives you a confused look.

"Sign it."

"What?"

"My shoe," you repeat, and he takes notice of your sneakers, varying names written along the white rim already, all in different colours and sizes. "It's something I've been doing since high school. Just to remember."

Knowing how you treasure your photos, it only makes sense to him now. He kneels down and signs it in the black marker, his handwriting atrocious, but evidently an effort to make it appear more legible than normal. He lets go of your ankle when he's done and you smile, raising it to look at his handiwork.

"I tried."

"Hey, it's not that bad."

"It's pretty bad."

You both laugh, and you stand up finally, stepping down to his level. He tries not to show his shock when he feels your arms wrap around him, pulling him tightly towards you. He happily accepts the embrace, soaking up the affection like a dried-out sponge.

"One last thing," you whisper to him, and he feels your hand slip something into his pocket. “Look at it later, ‘kay?”

"I'll miss you."

"I'll be back."

And though he wants to believe you will, he can't help but stare into your dark windows that night, counting down every day until your return. Not everyone in his life has, after all.

He checked his pocket the moment you left earlier that day. It was the photo of the two of you in his kitchen, from one of the first days you met. It was blurry and dark but he could make out the sight of your smile and his face of confusion. The back side has the date written.

He places the photo on his nightstand and rolls over on his back, staring at the Nebraska poster on his ceiling. He took his meds not long ago, his eyes drooping, but his mind unable to stay focused, his thoughts drifting towards you.

—

1996

The last time you called his home line, you said you'd be home in a few weeks, but he still hasn’t seen you yet. The light in your bedroom window remains turned off. He wishes the thought of seeing you again didn’t have him so restless.

Today is his birthday. A whopping twenty-one years old. If he were a normal person, he'd be out with friends, pouring liquor down his throat until he couldn't drink anymore. Instead, he went to work, then returned home late to greet the babysitter on the couch, her middle school textbooks sprawled on the coffee table and Abby already in bed. She’s gone the moment he hands her a twenty-bill, peddling away on her bicycle.

Though the house now has furniture, it still feels so empty. He sits alone on the couch, the sounds from the TV turning into a soft humming. He doesn’t want to think about the dirty plates in the sink or Abby's toys and crayons that littered the living room floor.

His heart skips a beat when he hears a knock on the door. He tentatively gets up, swallowing dryly. It couldn’t be you. You would have called him or said something, right? He’s never been so thankful to be wrong in his life because when he sees you standing there on his steps, in those torn-up sneakers with his name on them, with a six-pack of beer in your hands, he’s immediately grinning like a child.

"Where the hell have you been?" he looks down at the alcohol in your hands, "what's this?"

"A gift for the birthday boy," you grin, "twenty-one. That's a pretty big age."

"Are you twenty-one yet?" He raises a brow.

"You want the beer or not?"

"Alright, alright," he looks into the house, the place dead silent save for the TV. "Let's go out back. Abby has school tomorrow. I don't want to wake her."

Sharing the company of another had become so foreign to him at this point that he forgot how nice it feels to be human. To feel the summer breeze through the fabric of his t-shirt, to feel the condensation from the cold can drip down his fingers, to feel the warmth of the alcohol sitting nicely in his stomach. Hell, he doesn’t even mind how shit the beer you bought tastes, though the initial shock causes him to cough the moment the first gulp is downed.

"Don't tell me you actually waited until now to have your first drink," he hears you say.

"I didn't, but I don't drink that much. Especially not this," he eyes the brand name on the can.

"I was tired of college parties and all the watered-down shit alright? I needed something different."

"Must be exhausting . Getting invited to so many parties."

"Oh, shut it," you shake your head, "trust me, college is lonelier than you think."

He stares down at your sneakers, noticing that not a single new name has been written. One part of him wonders how anyone could not want to become your friend. The other part of him is proud that he’s the last person to sign it, his name standing out compared to all the other old, faded-out ones.

"That's one thing we have in common."

"I take it life's not so great, either?"

"Abby has been acting out less but now she barely talks.” He sighs, “It's... another thing to think about."

There’s a pause.

“Then don’t think about it. Not tonight.”

“Easier said than done,” he rolls his eyes.

"Come on, it’s your birthday and we’re out here moping on your back porch. That's no way to celebrate."

"What do you suggest we do?"

"Something. Anything. I dunno, you're the birthday boy. What do you wanna do?"

"I..." his eyes trail down to your lips and stop. He knows he's being obvious but he's tired enough to where he doesn't really care anymore to hide it. He sees how your brows knit together, and he looks away. "I'm fine doing this."

"That's not what I asked." He feels your hand creep over to his, flat against the porch. Your touch is electric. He allows himself to look at you again. Your eyes are determined and your touch is intentional, he's sure. "I asked what you want ?"

Hesitantly, he lets his hand intertwine with yours. He's barely able to meet your eyes, embarrassed by his cheeks which he knew were most likely pink by now.

"I want you."

His other hand raises to your cheek, his cold hand against warm skin. His eyes speak to you, though his mouth says nothing, asking for permission. You lean in yourself, tired of his hesitation. You can taste the alcohol on his lips, his mouth so tender and sweet against yours. He's gentle and endearingly clumsy but above all else, he's desperate and he kisses you like you'll disappear the moment he lets you go. His hand is tighter around yours and the other that had first been against your cheek drifted to the back of your neck. You hear him let out a sound when your hand runs through the back of his hair and you're both pulling away, still craving something more.

"How much of me do you want?"

"So much," he gulps, "so much more."

There's a grin on your lips as you drag him by the hand, abandoning the half-drank beer cans as you enter the house. Careful not to alert Abby, who was sleeping next to his room, you both tip-toe down the hallway, unable to help the giggles that escape your mouths. Then, the moment you're in his bedroom, you're pushing him against the door, seizing his lips. You feel his abs under his T-shirt, realizing just what he had been hiding under all those hoodies last summer. You feel the warmth radiating from him, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You smile against his mouth when you feel his hand at your waist, slipping under your top to fit right into the arch of your back. He's holding back, you can tell, and it only makes you want to fan the flames and let him burn even brighter.

You tug him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards the mattress until his legs hit the edge and he’s sitting, your body crawling on top of him. And, for someone who had been concerned about not waking his sister, he sure allows himself to make so many pretty noises. He pulls away for air once again and looks up at you like he worships you, his hands on either thigh while you lean your forehead against his own. He then lets out a laugh, still genuine, though hushed.

"What's so funny?" You murmur.

"This is the best birthday gift I've had in years."

"But you haven't even unwrapped me yet," you quirk your brow. "You said you wanted more, didn't you?"

"I did," he hums, his eyes dragging down over your body, shyly. "Still do. If that's what you want, too."

"You already know I do."

He brings his fingers to the hem of your shirt and slowly lifts it, your arms raising to help him slip it off. You feel yourself shudder under his analytical gaze, even though the night is sweltering. You feel the goosebumps rise under your skin as his fingers brush over your body as if to memorize every curve and texture with his fingertips. And though you had done your best to mask your inexperience all night, it became obvious to him, the moment you were squirming before him— topless— the truth.

"I've never done this before," you admit before he can ask you, feeling more vulnerable than ever as he stares up at you, the most anyone had ever seen of you beneath your clothing.

"That's okay," he tilts his head, big brown eyes looking right back at yours, "if it's okay with—"

"I've already told you it is. Everything is okay with me. Please. "

He nods, his hands reaching behind you, and you feel his fingers at the clasp of your bra. There's a flush on his face as he fumbles with it, brows scrunched as he tries to pull it apart. Then, it hits you. The look in his eyes, the uncertainty in his actions, the constant need for reassurance. He's been trying to hide it just like you were. Had your own mind not been so clouded, perhaps you would have noticed it far sooner. You reach behind yourself, hand brushing past his own to unclasp the bra yourself, before letting it slide down your shoulders. There's a glimmer in his eyes as he takes in your half-naked form, mouth parted slightly.

"You've never done this either, have you?" You ask, hands looped around the back of his neck as you seat yourself better in his lap. You try not to make a sound when you feel his erection through his gym shorts, pressed right up against where you need friction the most.

"Never," he manages to say, somehow. "I don't know what I'm doing."

"We'll figure it out."

You're kissing him again, and this time you're the one fumbling to remove his shirt, unable to properly admire his exposed body as his mouth is pressed against yours the moment the garment is removed. You feel yourself start to crumble at every little noise he makes, every little touch and grinding of his hips into yours. Then his mouth is trailing down your neck and his hands are on your breasts, his touch gentle but his lips hungry. You feel his lips suck on a particular spot on your collarbone and hiss, your fingers threading through his hair.

"You're gonna leave a mark.”

He pulls away, not quite sporting a grin, but the look in his eyes tells you he’s proud, regardless.

"Is that a problem?"

"Bastard," you retort.

With that, you're pushing him down until his back is against the mattress, leaving your own trail of kisses down his neck and chest, a flurry of butterflies in your stomach every time you hear his noises, and whispers of praise. You reach down for his shorts, tugging them down, this time you're able to get a better view of him beneath you. Your hand traces the outline of the muscles on his abdomen and chest, feeling your face heat up, again reminded just how built he was. As if he couldn't get any hotter, you notice the trail of hair leading from his belly button, disappearing beneath his boxers. You suck in a breath, your pupils blown wide.

“I'm gonna go insane if you don't touch me right now,” he says, allowing you to realize just how long you had been staring him down.

The words go straight through you, reminding you of your arousal between your legs, and how you were currently sitting right on top of his dick, the only barrier between you being each other's underwear. You rock your hips against him and hear him whine, your hands flat against his chest. It almost scares you how good it already feels, without having done much of anything at all.

"You have any condoms?" You ask.

"Yeah, think so," he stammers, his eyes darting towards his dresser.

You get up, feeling his eyes on your ass as you dig through the drawer, sifting through clutter. Momentarily, you smile when you find the photo you gave him last year— before returning to the task at hand. You find a condom buried at the very back.

"Were you prepared for this?" You tease.

"I don't think that far ahead. They’re free handouts from sex Ed, senior year."

"If you actually paid attention in that class, you'd know that condoms have an expiration date."

"I did pay attention," he says as you settle yourself back on top of him, the foil between your fingers. "They're not expired yet ."

"Yeah? What else did you learn?"

You suppress a yelp when you feel your position forcibly switched, your back now against the mattress with him hovering over you. The condom had disappeared into his hand.

"That you probably shouldn't be on top for your first," you feel his hand at your panties, brushing your clit over the fabric, "and that you're gonna need more foreplay than just dry humping."

You notice how he looks at you for approval before tossing your underwear aside, admiring how your slick coats his fingers. You'd touched yourself enough times before to know what this feels like but somehow, when it's him doing it instead of yourself, you already feel you'll fall apart at any moment. Your clit is swollen and your hole flutters around nothing as his fingers continue to tease you. Fortunately, he slips his middle finger in before you can scold him for being a tease— and fuck it's so much more than you're used to. His fingers reach inside you better than yours ever did you feel your mouth go agape, your hand reaching to clasp over your mouth out of fear your noises will echo through the mostly silent house.

"Mike," you plea, but to no avail, one hand still desperate to muffle your sounds while the other gripped the bedsheets.

“Is it… am I doing it right?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “please, don’t stop.”

You’d heard horror stories before from others, about how aggressive some men were with their first times. But you think Mike is the opposite. So gentle and considerate— uncertain and awkward, sure, but with a willingness to learn and try.

“Doing so well,” he whispers sweetly, “you’re so perfect.”

You're so close to reaching your high that you almost wish you could strangle him the moment he pulls away, leaning down to capture your lips into a kiss. You then hear the sound of the foil being torn apart and the feeling of his dick rubbing against your centre. Despite his smile, you notice the worry behind his eyes. He's terrified. So, you bring your hand to his cheek.

"I want this," you reassure once again.

He nods.

He slips the tip in and your body spasms, the intrusion feeling so foreign. He watches your expression change with each passing moment he spends pushing into you. He loves the way your lips part, how your lashes flutter shut. Loves how your brows scrunch together. All because of him. You’re so soft and warm around him and he’s struggling to cool himself down.

"So much," you comment, your eyes half-lidded when he finally bottoms you out, your bottom lip pulled by your teeth. He tries not to let the compliment get to him, otherwise, he knows he’ll be finishing faster than he wants.

"You're doing so good," he whispers, his hand intertwining with your own, "taking me so well. Can you keep doing that?"

You nod, and he whimpers, taking another thrust. Your nails are digging into his shoulder blades but he doesn't care. It’s another distraction, helping him hold himself together while you take him. He takes another thrust and nearly loses it when he watches you whine, tilting your face to the side.

“More,” you let out.

You feel every inch of him inside you, pressing against your most sensitive parts and though the initial discomfort hadn’t fully yet faded, you start to feel yourself getting lost in pleasure the more you accommodate him. You continue to drag your nails down his back, the knot inside of you growing tighter. You reach down to touch your clit, aching for more stimulation, but he’s quickly replacing your hand with his own, rubbing circles into you.

“So good.”

“Yeah?” He stammers out, finding it difficult to string words together in the moment.

“You feel so good, Mike.”

He didn’t realize how fucking hot it would be to hear you say his name while you’re fucked out like this until you do, and he feels himself losing a grasp on himself.

The feeling inside of you starts to snap and your body is thrashing around as you approach your high. He feels you grasping onto him like he’s your lifeline, shaking through your cries, which are muffled by your hand on your mouth. He, too, reaches his limit, and he’s burying his face into the crook of your neck in the hopes that he isn’t too loud.

All that’s left is the sound of both of you breathing when it’s over, and you hear him get up, throwing the rubber away. The bed dips at your side and you feel him on top of you again, head buried into your neck as he holds you. You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips, your fingers raking through his brown curls.

It's different from all the times you've touched yourself beneath your sheets in the dead of night. Instead of coming down from your high and laying your head against a cold pillow, your head is against him. You can feel every beating of his heart, every rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. You can feel the stubble on his chin and jaw tickling the crook of your neck. You're shaking, sweating and your whole body aches, yet you want nothing more than to lay here with him. And though you could have given yourself to some other person in college, you know it would not have been the same with anyone else other than the messy-haired brunette who lay atop you.

"Missed you so much," he whispers, "please stay?"

You stare at your house through his window, choosing not to think too hard about the view he has into your bedroom from this angle. Your family wouldn’t care.

"I'm here," you respond, pressing a kiss to his head.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x you #fnaf x reader

387 notes · View notes

pageofheartdj · 3 months

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All jokes and horny aside(I do love horny and specific position only🙏 and them fighting over everything always ever and ooc fun scenarious) radioapple are so interesting to think about, about their dynamics, and the characters in general. So I will!

As they are in canon now, Lucifer did not care for Alastor plus the general disgust(and guilt) towards sinners. And then the song happened and Alastor became Lucifer's enemy number one xD If Alastor will drop it, Lucifer won't have a reason to hate on him, but initial negative imperssion is still there.

And Alastor, he is a mysterious guy. The abusive dad is still a theory, him being momma boy and therefore connecting with women better doesn't say anything about his dad situation. The Lilith's deal is also just a theory for now. So for me his immediate negative reaction comes from the same place as his annoyance at Carmilla disregarding him. He wants to be on the top, the most unknown, the most powerful one, the most scary one. He loves attention, he loves keeping everyone alert with his antics.

And he loves being in control, his plans going exactly the way he wants them, not that he can't improvise. He immediately tenses when he sees the sign welcoming dad, he knows. The King of Hell has the ultimate power, the ultimate influence, the ultimate importance. Alastor does not mind someone being more than him in something like he is politely neutral with Zestial. But the hotel carries importance for Alastor's plans so he feels threatened. Before with Charlie's daddy issues I guess he did not expect to see him anytime soon. But here he is, threatening to pull Charlie from his influence, from her needing his powers.

But then we see him being completely chill and not antagonistic at all. One of the reasons I think is that he let his stim out, for a reason being restricted in his activities, the deals he can make, the souls he can take, the kills. And because Charlie needed Lucifer to arrange a meeting with Heaven, something that only Lucifer can do. And that's it. So he lets go for a bit.

Who knows what dynamic season 2 will bring, now that Lucifer stays at the hotel and Alastor took a hard blow at his ego and reputation.

In the wiki it is stated Alastor dislikes people who are like him, but likes people who are more like him, but who knows where is this line. He also said to like Willy Wonka character for being an entertainer and a dick. And Lucifer was told to be like that character. For now Lucifer is a depressed sad baby, but we saw how he can be when he is fucking with others. Alastor likes fun, no matter how this fun is done. Potentially he can enjoy Lucifer's presence. Not to mention, he respects power, at least when the whatever deal with Alastor is done, potentially.

Don't know how prevalent this is now, but both seem to enjoy collecting certain things, like ducks and those firby toys. Both were drawn to dance-vibe with each other.

Speaking of, both love music and play instruments, they can totally jam with each other, making their own little concerts.

Lucifer's idea of sinners will be definetely challenged with Alastor. It's one thing to meet a nice sinner and think 'ah they are not like everyone else'. But it's a completely different thing when this sinner is exactly what you hate about them, the maniac who loves violence. And then you have to come to terms that even THEY can become better, can have something to them. Lucifer drowned himself in guilt and shame, it would be nice to get a bit in touch with people in Hell. Because it seems like he stays away from most things sinners bring with themselves.

Alastor was told to like theatres, so it would be nice for them to go together, to try and see something good from humanity even in Hell. Something that can still keep not being corrupted. And humans creativity and artistism can definetely spark more hope back to Lucifer.

And I think Lucifer would appreciate someone who treats him as equal, it doesn't look like he cares much about being a King, so having someone who will not shy away at punching first can be good.

Lucifer's main support of course would be Charlie(and hopefully hotel crew), but having someone who he can rely to get things actually done is pleasant. He is a King of Hell but he doesn't often act like one, he surely will benefit from someone who can act appropriately spooky. (He can get scary, but I think he needs to get MAD mad for this side of him to appear and at that point you better have Charlie around to calm him down)

And they have to keep the beef part of their interactions, it's just fun to have someone you can freely argue with with no hard feelings afterwards, just a battle of words, their interests don't always aligning. And it's fun to mindlessly banter about them. Like their sweet and bitter food preference, or cooking techniques, etc. Small irrelevant things, or maybe even some clash of ideals, but it is oh so fun to let yourself go lose and not hold back.

It would be nice for them to develop mutual respect and learn to care about each other's boundaries, be it the painful personal history, or choices of leading the relationship.

Yes, the aroace situation. Start with simple, I do not believe Lucifer is straight(nor NT xD) and he is perfectly sex-positive(he started with no experience and no shame either xD). He is more on a demi spectrum for me, getting excitedly horny only with close people(one-times can happen, it's a grey(literally) area). And Alastor... he is touch-aversed until you are close, then the touching is required(both gentle and playful and rough, depending if he wants to sooth himself or get energised or let the stim out). The same with the bed situation. He gets attracted long after all the other bonds are formed. He is sex-indifferent, never wanted with anyone so never went there. He is perfectly content with himself. And when it starts, yet again, depending on what it feels like in the moment.(cannibalism was not the only thing he grew to like in Hell(¬‿¬))

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel alastor #radioapple

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blue-jisungs · 1 year

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infinity

summary. by a rather unpleasant string of events you find out who… or what your boyfriend really is

warnings. swearing, blood, violence (?) but nothing extreme, (a pinch of angst if u will)

au. vampire!wonwoo

a/n. first of all i’d like to thank zanna ( @slytherinshua ) , ola ( @l3visbby ) and kermit (@humongousbiscuitvoidtree ) for helping me out with certain aspects of this work!! tbh without you i wouldn’t write it <\3 so thank you sm, love you and check their blogs if you haven’t already >:T

second of all, i don’t want to spoil everything but as you can see from the au its a vampire thingy teehee but! i based the creations of vampires on the witcher (mostly the books/part 3 of the game (esp blood and wine))! i’m such a sucker for the witcher (without the tv series lol) so you know i had to teehee!! it’s pretty much briefly explained later in the work but if someone is interested i definitely recommend diving into the witcher or even checking it out on wiki!

word count. 4.7k 😟 the longest work of mine on tumblr 😟😟😟

wonwoo loves you. he’s sure that he never loved anyone like this before. if it was possible, he’d spend his entire life; infinity with you. if only.

you feel the same way, obviously. you can always feel the presence of his love, even if he himself may not be around. you love him so much that you sometimes feel as if your heart was about to jump out of your chest. he must feel it too because his pupils grow wider a bit (and he thinks you don’t see it). even his friends, including mingyu who knew him for like forever, told you he’s head over heels for you which made you melt on the spot.

you’ve been together for 6 years now and life with him is anything and more than you could have ever wanted. wonwoo is patient, funny and above all, caring. sometimes it makes you wonder what you did in your past life to deserve this; him.

“i’m home!” you call out, putting the groceries on the countertop. there was not only his shoes next to the doorstep but also someone else’s… if you were to take a guess, you’d bet it was mingyu.

you let out a deep sigh, reaching for a iced tea you bought for yourself.

your classes today were… harsh, to say at least. all you needed today was wonwoo’s arms around you. and a good nap.

overall your days were horrible lately. the ridiculous amount of uni work, your part time job and social life in general. there’s a new guy at your job and you can’t figure out what’s his problem with you. he’s always staring, throwing mean comments at you… the other day he almost got you fired.

you still haven’t talked about this with wonwoo. and you didn’t really want to because lately he seemed busy with something else. but if his - junwoo’s - behaviour is going to go on, you’ll reach out.

you closed your eyes, trying to forget it. you’re home now, it’s all good. just take a shower and go to bed.

you finished your ice tea and grabbed two that were left in your shopping bag. you passed by wonwoo’s office and knocked at the door gently. and before you could even move your hand away, your boyfriend called you in.

as you opened the door, as predicted, saw mingyu. he smiled at you. they were sitting at the desk, looking over at some papers.

“hi guys. hi baby” you hummed, trying to keep a positive tone. you walked up to wonwoo, placing a soft kiss on his forehead.

you put down the two bottles and smiled at them.

“i’ll go to sleep, i’m exhausted” you announced quietly and wonwoo nodded, sending you a warm smile.

“of course… i didn’t even realise it got so late. good night, dear” he hummed. you walked away, sending them a small wave and closed the door behind you. with a deep sigh you started mentally questioning if you have enough strength to do your skin care.

nowadays there is something important going on since wonwoo isn’t home a lot. he’s asleep when you wake up in the morning to attend your classes, sometimes you manage to share a quick cup of coffee. and when you’re back home from work late evening, he’s absent. you always text him once you’re home and when you check the other day, the read hour says something around 1am. it’s exhausting, it really is.

“nonu…” you mumbled quietly, entering your living room at some lazy sunday. weekends were the only days you could catch up, even a bit. he turned his head immediately, eyes landing on you.

“is something wrong?” he asked, concern in his voice.

“well… no. actually, yeah” you huffed and sat down next to him on the couch. he closed his book and a playful smile spread on your lips when you see it’s twilight, again.

“what’s wrong, darling?” wonwoo asked, shifting his full attention to you. he can sense you’re nervous so he grabs your hand. it feels like eternity since he did that, let alone kiss you properly or–

“i miss you” you pouted, avoiding eye contact.

“but i’m here” wonwoo teases you but let’s go when you don’t even snicker “‘m sorry. i know, work has been stressful lately. seungcheol got into some trouble and you know how it is…”

“i really don’t. we don’t even talk that much anymore. i know that it’s your work but it’s just….” you babbled, finally gaining courage to look up at him. your heart clenched at the sight of his sad frown “but i know how you can make it up for me…”

“oh?” the corner of wonwoo’s mouth shifts up, his smirk making you dizzy. asshole. with a tilt of his head, his gaze pierces you but at the same time, it’s soft. and loving. “tell me then”

“well, first of all a kiss. seco–“ you were interrupted by his plush lips on yours. as you melted into the kiss, wonwoo effortlessly grabbed your hips and put you on his lap. with a small bite of your bottom lip, he made you gasp. you felt him smile playfully into the kiss before he continued to knock the air out of your lungs. your hands travelled to the nape of his neck, playing with his hair.

when you finally pulled away, cheeks glowing red, wonwoo put a stray strand of your hair back behind your ear.

“done. and the second part?” he breathed out, admiring your flustered face.

“a date” you giggled, hands shifting to cup his face.

“a date?” he repeated, a small crease forming between his brows.

“we can even go and dig garbage out, i don’t care. just take me on a date, mr jeon” you squished his cheeks, causing him to playfully roll his eyes.

“okay, ms l/n, next friday then. we’re going to dig through garbage” wonwoo sent you a boyish smile and you smacked his arm. finally, your place was filled with your laughters again.

you were waiting impatiently, the minutes on the clock passing painfully slow. wonwoo was supposed to pick you up at 6pm and then you were supposed to go… somewhere. he said it’s a surprise, so you weren’t fully sure what was is.

you decided to wear a cute dress and a cardigan that he gifted you on your birthday. it was your favourite piece of clothing and it went perfectly with the dress.

you played a goofy game that was on your phone, trying to kill some time.

you figured it will be the perfect opportunity to tell wonwoo about junwoo, your co-worker. days passed and his behaviour got even worse. you were uncomfortable around him, your job draining you mentally. and you hated that because to be frank, you loved your job. you loved making baked goods, displaying them and serving customers. and now your, somehow, safe place is making you sick even when you’re just thinking about it.

suddenly your phone dinged.

nonu<3: darling i’m so sorry

nonu<3: i won’t be able to make it

nonu<3: let’s postpone it to next friday, okay?

nonu<3: seungcheol said he’ll pay

your heart dropped. putting down your phone gently you felt tears gathering at your water line.

nonu<3: love you

“love you too” you mumbled and went straight to bed, not bothering to take your makeup off.

when wonwoo came back around 3am, he wasn’t surprised to see you’re fast asleep. there was a little hope in him that you’d wait; that’d you won’t be mad. but who was he gonna fool? when he noticed you fell asleep without changing into your pyjamas, wiping off your makeup and clutching his pillow tight to your chest his heart stung painfully. then he went to grab makeup wipes to remove your mascara stains.

you haven’t talked to wonwoo since then. a week passed by, making you wonder if he’s truly going to take you on a date.

you were just ending your shift, unfortunately with junwoo. you were wiping the tables while he was counting up today’s profit.

“so, that boyfriend of yours…”

the question felt like a bomb, echoing in the empty room. you looked up at junwoo annoyed, his gaze piercing your soul.

“he’s very lovely” you scoffed, looking outside the window. it was already dark outside, not to mention that you still have to go through the park to arrive at your bus stop. normally wonwoo would pick you up…

“is he?”

you ignored the question, moving to the last table. last table and you’re gone. you just need to grab your bag. to do that you have to… shit. you have to pass him by. maybe you don’t need your stuff? you could leave it and– what are you thinking, your id and everything is in it.

“wonwoo is hiding something from you, isn’t he?” junwoo’s voice send shivers down your spine and when you gulped, you could hear his scoff. wait.

“how do you know his name?” you asked, hands trembling.

“i’m friend of a friend you see. but wonwoo once betrayed me…”

your grip on the cloth you were holding tightened, heart speeding up. why this feels like a scene from a crime show…?

“would you like to know something about your lovely boyfriend?” junwoo asked, done with his task.

“uh sure, hit me. we don’t have secrets though!” you laughed nervously and looked at the table. squeaky clean.

you heard footsteps.

looking up you noticed junwoo holding your bag with a playful smile.

“he’s a vampire”

you looked at him in disbelief. then you let out a laugh, shaking your head.

“that’s funny. you’re a funny guy junwoo, wow! a vampire, huh? good one, really–“ your voice died out in your throat when he stepped closer, his hand reaching out.

you snatched your bag from it, dropping the cloth on the floor.

“he’s a vampire. like me” junwoo hummed. normally you’d throw a joke about edward cullen but your coworker canines suddenly made sense.

“oh. cool. i’ll get going though, bye!” you yelled out panicked and rushed to the door. with a slam you ran out of the café, the fresh evening air making you realise how much you were suffering there.

you’re safe. just straight to the park and then bus stop and then home and then… your - apparently vampire - boyfriend.

you took out your phone with shaky and sweaty hands, the speed of your walk faster than ever before in your life.

you started bombarding him with texts - not even caring about the typos - and called him a couple of times but he wasn’t responding.

just when you were about to call him again, you felt… strange. mentally cursing at the city council for not putting lamps in the park you started running. your gut told you to. your gut also told you not to look around.

but you did.

you let out a shocked scream when you saw junwoo. in a blink of an eye he was suddenly one step behind you, grabbing you by your baby pink cardigan. the one wonwoo gifted you.

“leave me alone!” you screamed but the force of the pull was so powerful that you tripped back. luckily, you landed on your back first.

your phone fell out from your hand. you wanted to grab it, but junwoo stepped on your hand. you whined in pain, crunching up.

“see, i’m having a struggle right now. should i already kill you or wait for wonwoo to arrive. because… you think he’s coming, right?” junwoo’s voice echoed in your head.

to be honest, you weren’t sure.

your heart was beating at an inhuman speed right now, trying to figure out what to do.

“but we can have a small compromise” junwoo took off his foot from your hand, causing you to instinctively bring it closer. the tears in your eyes blurred your vision but you managed to suddenly roll over away. “i’ll scratch you up just a tiny bit. if he makes it in time, he might be able to save you”

“fuck off” you grunted and tried to stand up. as you wanted to run away, he kicked the back of your knees. you were helpless to prevent from falling, only to put the weight on your hands. if that hurt, you weren’t ready for the upcoming pain in your thigh, just in your femoral artery.

wonwoo came back home and from the moment he opened the door, he knew something was off.

your shoes weren’t messily thrown on the ground. you didn’t bring leftovers from the café. the apartment was quiet and dark. no smell of baked goods and your perfume, no sound of your calm breathing. or of your heartbeat. you weren’t home.

while nervously scratching his neck wonwoo tried to recall if he forgot about something. maybe you went out with your friends? but no, you’d leave a message… right? maybe you decided to leave him? or… oh. the date.

he pulled out his phone but didn’t see any notifications from you.

his - usually slow - heartbeat sped up, breath stuck in his throat. did you really leave him? he knew it was bad, he felt like he was neglecting you; duh, he knew it. he felt so helpless because seungcheol just needed help with that one guy who appeared in town lately but…

he couldn’t believe you didn’t even text him.

that’s when he noticed something on his phone.

a small moon icon next to the hour.

he frowned, swiping down. do not disturb. oh. how did he even put do not disturb on? after a five hundred years he’s still getting used to all of that technology but– whatever.

his eyes widened upon seeing like a thousand notifications from you and almost the same amount of missed calls.

the sun to my moon, my beloved y/n: wonwoo jelp

the sun to my moon, my beloved y/n: theres a guy ar mw work he creeped me our roday

the sun to my moon, my beloved y/n: he said youre a vampire lol

the sun to my moon, my beloved y/n: imomw home but im so fucking scared my hands arw shakinr so much

the sun to my moon, my beloved y/n: i love you sobmicj but please pick ip

the sun to my moon, my beloved y/n: km enywrinf the park roghr niw but i feel so strange

the sun to my moon, my beloved y/n: do i turn aeousn????

the sun to my moon, my beloved y/n: wonwoo please answer im so sxared

wonwoo slammed the door, almost tripping down the stairs. a guy at your work? why haven’t you told him? okay, you’ll talk later. right now he has to get to the park. you’re fine. you’re gonna be safe, he’ll get there quickly. even if you managed to get on the bus–

he entered his car, calling you. you’ll surely pick up, right? you’ll pick up and tell him you’re fine, you’re on the bus now, you’re safe.

suddenly his car door opened and someone sat at the passenger’s seat. wonwoo turned his head and looked at mingyu flabbergasted.

“what are you–” wonwoo breathed out, his hands shaking. you aren’t picking up.

“what’s the name of the café y/n works at?” mingyu asked. wonwoo threw away his phone, starting the car.

“moon made… something like that. why? i literally do not care right now, she’s–“

“junwoo works there”

wonwoo choked on air, taking a sharp turn. mingyu, who haven’t put his seatbelt on, slammed onto the door.

“fuck”

his friend quickly fastened his seatbelts and gulped upon seeing seeing how the numbers on the counter rose threateningly.

“y/n is in danger, she messaged me… and– what if– do you think he…?” wonwoo breathed out. mingyu, his friend of almost four hundred years, have never seen him so emotional. even when in 1722 wonwoo was about to literally die - because of a fight he got with a higher vampire, seungcheol - he was stoic. calm. normal.

“i don’t know. seungcheol is on his way, he told me he’ll rip his head apart if he hurts you or y/n but…” mingyu sighed, grabbing wonwoo’s phone. he put the password (the date of the day when you two started dating) and looked at the texts. it doesn’t look good.

“it doesn’t… look good, does it? fuck i’m so pissed at myself. somehow i put the do not disturb thing on and i missed all the notifications” wonwoo grunted and looked around “we’re nearby. please hold on…”

“wonwoo…” mingyu started slowly “i know you’re emotional right now but please… please don’t do anything stupid. you’re both higher vampires, this can end tragically”

“i don’t care. as long as y/n is safe and fucking alive. you know what that psychopath did in 1800!” wonwoo hissed, taking another sharp turn.

“i know! that’s the reason why we took seungcheol’s side!” just as he said that, mingyu was prepared for the turn and held onto his dear life to the door grip. wonwoo pulled over and left the car, slamming the door.

it didn’t take long before they located you. wonwoo’s heart clenched painfully upon hearing your cries and hard pants without seeing you.

“i smell blood” he grumbled, looking at mingyu. the thing was that mingyu stopped drinking blood like hundred years ago, he was fine. wonwoo, on the other hand, restricted his drinking but fully stopped when he met you. comparing 6 years to almost 500…

the smell was getting stronger and your heartbeat slower. then he saw you. on the ground, sobbing harshly. a growing puddle of crimson liquid was pooling under your right leg.

“y/n look, your boyfriend!” junwoo’s voice made him sick, not to mention that he nudged your leg with his. like you were nothing.

“nonu?” you whispered, fighting to keep your eyes open. it was barely a whisper to be honest but due to his hearing he was able to catch it.

he started walking towards you but junwoo clicked his tongue.

“stay there, traitor” he growled, putting his hands in the pockets of his pants “move an inch and she’ll be a lifeless body. same goes to you, mingyu”

“what do you want?” wonwoo asked, afraid that if he’s gonna look away for a second, you’ll…

“honestly? seungcheol. but i figured i’d be more fun to watch him suffer… and that human girlfriend of yours seems to matter a lot for you. and you mean a lot to him. well, her too. simple as that. the things in the way aren’t a big deal either. if i have to kill her or you to get to him… it’ll be at least endearing” he explained.

“listen i know i… betrayed you. but you killed innocent people, junwoo. just as you’re about to do with my girlfriend. leave her out of this and no one will get hurt” wonwoo talked slowly, your breathing getting slower.

“you didn’t hear a thing i just said, huh? i don’t care. or maybe i’ll give her to the werewolves? they’re not friends of mine but i’m sure they’ll like her” junwoo said and kneeled. he cupped your face, fingers digging into your jaw with force.

you felt like life was escaping from you, like air from a popped balloon. with the rest of the strength you had, you gathered your saliva and spat at him.

both mingyu and wonwoo were speechless.

junwoo slowly wiped his face and your boyfriend realised something. if junwoo wanted to bare his claws - and he just might to that - they’d go straight through your skin.

but something or rather, someone stops him from doing that. or doing anything in general.

seungcheol’s silhouette would go unnoticed by humans or even some lower vampires.

he yanks junwoo backwards by his shirt.

“if you wanted to talk to me, you’re more than welcome. but leave the fuck wonwoo and y/n alone” he hissed, immediately attacking him “and i made a promise to myself that if you hurt them, you’ll–“

“be dead, i assume. you’re worse than the werewolves” junwoo hissed.

wonwoo rushed to you, not caring about them. seungcheol will manage. he’s a higher vampire, probably older than all of you gathered here. he’s strong.

and you’re not.

he’s falling onto his knees, taking you in his arms immediately. wonwoo scans your face quickly, nothing than the marks from the grip, and moves to check the rest of your body.

then, he sees the wound. a deep cut on your thigh, precisely aimed at your main artery. other than that your hand was probably twisted. but the literal bleeding made him panic. because who knows how many time you have left considering the fact that junwoo cut open one of the critical parts of the blood system.

“wonwoo?” you mutter, fighting to keep your eyes open.

“it’s me, darling. it’s me, please– forgive me. i’m so sorry i should’ve-“ he started mumbling apologies like a broken record, tears gathering at his waterline.

“it’s fine, you’re here now” you mumbled, grabbing his hand with both of yours “i love you so much…”

“hey, hey. i know. i know, y/n, i love you to. but you’ll be fine. i promise” he breathed out, pressing his forehead against yours. his mind was racing with thoughts. he won’t manage to get you to the hospital. it’s way too far. he could stop the bleeding but assuming from the amount of blood you already lost— would it help? he feels helpless while you’re dying in his hands. it’s just a matter of seconds.

“nonu… you’re a vampire?” you gasp suddenly, one of your hands going to clutch his shirt. he nodded, still deep in his thought “then you can– turn me…?”

“bite her, wonwoo” mingyu suddenly appeared behind his back

“but i never– not on purpose–“ wonwoo grunted and stiffened once he saw your eyelids dropping “i don’t–“

“do it” a barely audible plea left your mouth, your hands slipping from his chest; your face scrunched up in pain. everything was going dark, your eyelids more and more heavy.

“it might hurt…” wonwoo warned before baring his fangs; he dived into the left side of your neck, a sharp sting bringing you back to reality for a brief moment. you sobbed harshly before a sudden blackout hit you.

your blood was sweet; the sweetest he has ever tried. wonwoo felt you losing consciousness, your body in his arms like a puppet. your heartbeat halted.

suddenly seungcheol came back, blood splattered on his face.

“that asshole is dead. what’s with y/n…?” he asked quietly. wonwoo pulled away, taking a deep breath. a trickle of crimson blood went down your neck. wonwoo looked at his friends; the tears in his eyes making seungcheol… sad.

“she’ll be fine” seungcheol mumbled. wonwoo grabbed your stiff body in a bridal style; he felt the warmth escaping from you “i can feel it”

“take her home” mingyu hummed, noticing the way wonwoo looked at you “let us know once she wakes up. because she will”

he nodded, for the first time in a long time not sure about the rightness of his decision.

you opened your eyes slowly, your body overtaken by pain. you felt weird; somehow cold.

the first thing you saw was wonwoo on the edge of the bed. his head was leaning downwards, eyes closed. he must have been thinking about something because his brows were furrowed, a deep crease between them. he looked like he haven’t slept for days.

you shifted carefully, noticing the bandage on your hand. the memories suddenly flooded you back; causing you to wince.

wonwoo suddenly felt your arms around his waist, his body jerking in surprise.

“y/n?” he asked, voice cracking.

“tell me it was a bad dream, please. or that you’re real” you whispered, shaking.

wonwoo hugged you back, placing a hand at the back of your head.

“i’m here, i’m real. it’s all good now i promise” he mumbled into your hair, afraid to let you go.

you sobbed into his chest, his embrace feeling like a dream after all of the events.

when you pulled away, he looked at you with so much care in his eyes in almost hurt. you tried to gather your thoughts, trying to think of the best way how to ask him about everything. as you did so, your hand traveled to your neck and you were surprised to feel a bandage there. right.

“i’m sorry if that hurt” he mumbled shyly

“it’s fine. but… what… what am i now? can you tell me everything…?” you asked quietly, your hand finding his. wonwoo intertwined your fingers, taking a deep sigh.

“i don’t know how much he told you but… i’m a vampire. and by biting you i turned you into one as well. you died but the venom from my fangs caused you to kind of… come back” he explained slowly “mingyu is a vampire too. well, all of my friends are”

“that would explain why you know each other so well” you chuckled, instantly regretting that. a wave of pain came through your body, causing you to wince. wonwoo’s eyes widened, sudden realisation hitting him.

“do you need anything? medicine? i can bring some pain killers” he said, pulling the duvet up. your thigh was professionally bandaged.

“it’s alright but… you could give me a kiss” you pouted.

“god, you don’t even know how scared was i…” he whispered before gently cupping your face and planting a tender kiss on your lips.

you wanted more, of course you did, but he leaned away. he wanted to look at you like this forever, without thinking about the possibility of losing you again.

“do you… want to talk? about what happened before?” your boyfriend asked. you sighed, nodding. even though you were glad you’re alive - and able to kiss him again - you had so many questions.

“just… explain everything to me. i’ll listen” you hummed, patting the spot next to you.

and he did. he explained to you that seungcheol is the oldest and that he was born as a vampire, that making him a higher vampire. due to that he can kill other vampires - because the regular ones like you aren’t able. you might hurt another vampires but won’t kill them if you’re not a higher one. wonwoo explained that junwoo and him were friends but his slaughtering of innocent people made wonwoo leave him and tell his location to seungcheol. they had some private fights going on hence the will of revenge. that’s what he was so busy with lately – seungcheol found out junwoo is in the city and wanted to find him. he explained that you’re not going to be a vampire that’s described in books. you won’t have shiny skin, you won’t have allergic reaction to garlic or sunlight, you’ll be able to see your reflection in a mirror. you’ll just feel cold at times and after some time and training you’ll get some supernatural traits.

“did you plan on telling me? that you’re a vampire?” you asked, gently grabbing his arms and pushing yourself onto his lap

“i… i did. maybe on our anniversary. i was scared but i promised myself i’d do it. i… i wanted to ask you if you want to be turned into one to” wonwoo smiled softly, looking at you “because the thought of you dying and me living without you… it made my heart shatter into pieces everytime i thought about this”

your heart swelled. it must’ve been so hard for him. this made you think if he was in a situation like that because but–

“and i messed up. i know work is work but i neglected you. it won’t happen again, i promise. and also… you need to show me how not to accidentally put do not disturb on” he huffed and then threateningly put his finger up, his ebony irises sending you a serious look “and next time tell me right away when there’s a creep at your work”

“do not disturb…?” you scoffed, putting his hand down.

the sun peeked through the window, framing his face in golden light.

“well then, mr jeon” you hummed, placing your hands on his arms for support “can i get a kiss? and can you make it last forever?”

you didn’t have to tell him twice; he finally had an infinity to spend with you. when wonwoo pulled you closer, his teeth grazing against your lips you realised that it all would explain his thing for biting.

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @jung0ne ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @moonacholy ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddenoudepression ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @cinnamoroxie ,, @gyudiarys

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milkywaydrabbles · 7 months

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Can I request a sencario with #37 (overetimulation) with souya for kinktober?❤️ nothing better than a super sensitive or needy souya.

Can't wait to see how you write him🥹

-🐇

A/N: I took my night night meds so I am falling ASLEEP as I write this omg but I think this turned out okay! This was the first time writing for him so I'm not sure if I captured him correctly or if it's wildly OOC. Please let me know how you feel about it! MWUAH (PS I had to go back and read the last chp. because TR wiki wouldn't just tell me what the gd twins did when they were older god)

Overstimulation x Kawata Souya

The twins had hired you months ago, when their ramen shop picked up in popularity and they found themselves needing extra hands around the restaurant to assist with front of house duties. They went through interview after interview, candidates either not fit for the job or those who were too scared of Angry to stay longer than a week. It was frustrating, he was trying--it wasn’t his fault he had a natural scowl. Angry would only try to help the newcomers, giving them helpful tips and tricks on how to do something easier, or learn all the soup bases. Everyone took it as scolding, not willing to look past his demeanor and listen. And then you came along. A bit quiet, but level headed and kind. You’d worked in an izakaya before this, needing something not as aggressive--your temperament couldn’t handle the drunks for long periods of time.

Nahoya liked you immediately, glancing over to his twin who said nothing a majority of the interview and just stared. He couldn’t help but snicker once you left, rustling his hair while he earned a glare from the younger twin. You were eager, starting off strong but noticing you needed some help with memorizing all the bases. Souya had hoped his brother would take over and just help you instead, he wasn’t ready for another runner. Instead, you had personally asked him for his help, wringing your hands together as you nervously waited for his response. He helped as normal, though his angry demeanor was still present it never scared you off. You listened diligently, smiling at him with each trick he had up his sleeve. After you learned your way around the shop easier, the conversations flowed easily between the two. Sure, Nahoya would give his input here and there--but he saw the way his brother would look at you. Really look at you. He’d tease him whenever he knew you weren’t listening and kept on his way. The twins would try to send you home early here and there, give you a break from the long hours of the restaurant, but you’d simply smile and shake your head. “I like it here.” You’d reply, turning over to Souya, eyes softening. “I’d rather be here.”

He confessed to you a few weeks later, and the rest was history.

Now he had you under him, writhing in pleasure and whimpering his name. The room was filled with pants and the squeaking of the bed underneath you, air heavy with the smell of sex. Souya had filled you up with his cum earlier in the night, but he couldn’t help himself and keep fucking into you. “So-oouya, s’go-ood” You whimpered against the pillows, clawing at the headboard with each hump against you. Angry couldn’t help himself, not when you were working so hard at the shop today. You looked so good, diligent in your work, making sure everything was running so smooth with him today. Nahoya had to take the day off, feeling a bit under the weather. But you made sure everything was kept under control, dealing with all the customers and making sure Souya had help when he needed it. He was practically on you the second you both crossed his door. “A-ah, fuck, you feel so good, angel--fuckfuckfuck, pussy’s so good.” His arms were on either side of you, fucking into you harder, his cum squishing around him oozing on the sides. “Can’t--aah, can’t hold on-fuck” Souya clenched his jaw holding in a whine while he came inside of you again, stilling while he filled up your creamy pussy. He panted, catching his breath before pulling out and fucking into you again. You whined underneath him, already feeling so full of him.

“Sososo good, honey, pussy so good” He was slurring his words together, fucked out and losing control. Souya was drunk off the feeling of your cunt, whimpering when you clenched around him with the praise. He knew he should stop, he’d already came twice and his cock was becoming sensitive. But he was still rock hard, and the way your ass rippled each time he pummeled into you looked too good for him to stop. The younger twin became noisy when he got like this--nothing else on his mind except his beautiful darling girl underneath him crying and full of his cum. “Feel so good, nngh, such a good baby” He whined, face relaxing enough for his nose to scrunch up and tears prickle at the corners of his eyes--his cock was aching, the feeling of your gooey walls overstimulating him in the best way possible. But he wasn’t done yet. Souya had pressed his chest onto your back, turning you so he could fuck you on his side. A hand snaked in front to rub your clit, fucking you from the back with vigor. You couldn’t help the sob that escaped your lips, tightening your core around his dick when he rubbed you like that. “S-Souya, g’na cum again, m’g’na cum.” You repeated, whining when you felt your orgasm come crashing over you. Your legs trembled, but his pace kept up just a brutal. You closed your legs, trying to retreat but Angry just kept fucking into you. “S’too muuuch” You whined, but he never let up. “Ca-haa-can’t stop, honey, feels good.” You knew he was just as overstimulated, you could hear it in his shaky voice, thick with tears and the sniffling behind you. His cum was sticky on your ass and the fronts of his thighs, webbing and sticking on your skin with each pull. It kept you connected to him, pulling apart each time his hips weren’t on yours. “Gonna cum again, oh fuck, gonna cum again.” Thick sob bubbled in his throat as his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down, grinding himself deeper into your cunt--you felt his tip kissing at your cervix, and it felt like he was in your throat.

The two of you stayed connected, and sticky, nothing put panting messes until he swallowed and rubbing circles into your stomach. “Are you..okay?” He murmured, embarrassed. Souya really could never believe you were with someone like him, so it took a lot for him to acknowledge that you were still around after sex. He felt you nod against him, legs still quaking from the strength of your orgasm. “Mhm” you turned in his arms, feeling him slip out with more of his gooey cum oozing out. You hitched your leg onto his hip, uncaring of the mess below you. “Are you?”

Bashful, his face turned a pretty shade of pink as he nodded in return, scowl slowly returning to his features. “I’ll clean you up, just stay here okay? Have to make sure you’re okay.”

Kawata Souya was a lot of things. But ‘angry’ was never one of them. Not with you.

#souya kawata #souya x reader #souya smut #kawata souya #kawata souya x reader #souya kawata x reader #kawata souya smut #souya kawata smut #tokyo revengers souya #tokyo revengers angry #tr angry #tokyo revengers angry x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #angry x reader #tokyo revengers smut #milk writes #milk kinktober

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koipaper · 15 days

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taps u on shoulder anxiously … UFJEKEJE yan!claire x fem!reader (x yan!engel if polyamory is okay). please ,,,, starts shaking in my boots and collapses to the ground

YANDERE CLAIRE + ENGEL TEAM UP

Paring: Yandere! Claire + Yandere! Engel x Beloved (Yours/Your/Yourself)

Trigger warinings: Yandere Behavior, Overprotective Behavior, Manipulation, OOC(?), Sacrificing mentioned, Isolation, Mc almost dies, Lana and Abbie's deaths mentioned, Not canon way to survive the day if your getting chased by the teachers, bruises and cuts. A/N: i'm sorry, i do not do gendered readers :(. I can however make this Gender-neutral! I'm sorry if this seems bad, I had trouble with these two. (sorry if board is wonky on pc, it won't let me fix it)

‣ Honestly, I can see this happening with both Claire and Engel. The wiki states that they're both best friends, and they seem to be pretty close. So they would work great as a team up. ‣ This is after Claire comes to the school (And fortunately, doesn't fall to the hands of both the teachers and Alice.) After you do your introduction to your classmates, Miss Circle assigns your seat next to Claire and her group. ‣ Claire is the first to greet you, introducing herself and saying that she is a new student like you! She hopes you both can get along! After her introduction, she points to Engel, who smiles and waves at you. Claire states that if you have any problems with other students such as Oliver and his crew, or maybe work, just come to him. ‣ The introduction was cut short by the sound of Miss Circle tapping her pencil like hands on the chalk board, signifying that the lessons about to start and the room needs to keep quiet.

‣ Since you were pretty new, you had no idea what the lesson was about nor how far in the unit everyone else is. But don't worry! Claire and Engel are there to help you! The day goes by quickly for your first day, and you had fun with your new friends!

‣ Before you left home, Engel and Claire offer you their numbers, which you gladly accept. And that's how you got involved with the pair!

‣ At first, everything was going good. Everyday you'd hang out with Engel and Claire, telling them stories about things that has happened to you (Some weird, some funny, and some diabolical). They soaked up every bit of it, they loved hearing you ramble about the things you patinate about! It was endearing to see you so happy about something small... ‣ But then, they started acting strange after a few months... ‣ I feel like even though they aren't completely the same, they would share similar traits of yandere behavior. ‣ Claire in my works would be a Cunning, Obsessive, Manipulative, Stubborn, and Clingy yandere, While Engel would be a Selfless, Possessive, Manipulative, Cunning, and Sacrificing yandere. ‣ Claire is a hard working student as we saw, but can sometimes lose her cool if she's pushed hard enough. For example, maybe if you became friends with another student, she tells you not to hang around them anymore because she feels slightly off about them, and you continue? She would manipulate you. You might get hurt hanging around them! Why won't you listen to her?! All she wants is for you to be safe and you're disagreeing?? ‣ Come to Engel about Claire's behavior, he will shut you down and tell you she's 100% right. You don't need your new 'friend' anyway, you got him and Claire to keep you company, don't you? Stop whining about something silly! It should be obvious why they act this way! They only want what's best for you.

‣ Claire loves your company, especially if you go on cute little rambles about things you love. Her gaze softens and goes all mushy and lovey-dovey. She's constantly around you 24/7, following like a magnet. Continue to tell her more, she wants to know everything about you. ‣ Engel is the same way as Claire, but he's a bit more closer then Claire. His tail wrapped around you when you sit down, a possessive arm around your shoulder when you walk the halls, you don't really question it that much, thinking this is just how he acts with anyone he's friends with. ‣ Speaking of Engel, it seems like he loves keeping his friends happy, shown when he takes Claire to the library. If there's a certain interest you have or a certain place you've told him about, well surprise! He brought you there! You being happy makes him happy, and he loves seeing that smile of yours. ‣ Both Claire and Engel try their best to keep your grades in check. They don't want you turning into what Lana and Abbie turned into that day. Claire especially doesn't want you to experience not one, but all three teachers anger if it ever came to that. Even if you were to say you're fine, she would just shake her head and continue with her help. ‣ Though with the amount of help Engel and Claire provided, it just wasn't enough. Unfortunately, you had gotten an F in Miss Thavel's test due to Oliver and his groups constant distractions. You were alone when she showed up in the hallway, anger clouded in her pinpricked eyes. No one was around, which means it was you and your wits to survive until 3 pm.

‣ Hiding in classrooms, hiding in lockers, throwing obstacles, you did it all. You were not going to die by all means possible, even if it meant destroying your stamina and bruising your body. ‣ The chase lasted for far too long, you're speed was slowing down due to lack of stamina, and the cuts and bruises made it harder to move. Where was everyone?! They're not gonna let you die like this are they? ‣ You collapsed, breathing heavily as Miss Thavel's smile grew wider, claws sharpening and raising to put you out of your misery. You were too tired to beg, to scream or shout, and just closed your eyes, tears falling down your cheeks. ‣ A yelp and a big loud "THUMP" was heard. Opening you're eyes, you see Engel who was holding down Miss Thavel, a determined look on his face. ‣ "Take them and run!" He yelled. That's when you felt your arm go around someone's shoulder, and helped you limp away from the scene. "Come on!" The voice was Claire's as she tried to help you move faster. ‣ Once in your hiding spot, Claire went ahead to check and your wounds. Thy weren't as severe, but they were still bad. She would try and treat them the best she could, fuming about you being alone. This is why they you should've never been alone! You were about to be killed! Imagine if they didn't find you in time?

‣ Don't worry, Engel is fine! He's just a bit scarred from his little stunt. It didn't matter though. As long as you're alive and healthy, he would do what he did all over again. Though the next day he sees you, he will take Claire's side on what she said. You shouldn't have wondered off. ‣ Yes their behavior gets worse after that day. Claire is more stubborn whenever you wanna you try to wonder off alone again, and Engel becomes more possessive with you. They are never away from you, and they never separate either. You're trapped between the pair, and there's nothing you could do about it.

‣ This is for you're own good, just let them do what they need to do to keep you away from harm. Besides... ‣ If you ever want to get out of this school alive, you would need their help to do it. Leaving them would be a deathwish.

#yandere #fundamental paper education #yandere blog #yandere fundamental paper education #yandere x reader #male yandere x reader #male yandere #female yandere #female yandere x reader #engel #claire #engel x reader #yandere engel #claire x reader #yandere claire

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rzyraffek · 11 months

Note

You did a request on fainting in front of Brahms, so how would the Sinclair Brothers react to reader fainting? Thank you! Y’all have a good one! :3

Yay! My writing spirit came back! So now imma spam you all with fanfics!! I also wrote a bit more that JUST Sinclair bros

They/them, sfw, Request Open

Slashers with s/o that faints

Bo sinclair

Will immediately pick them up, check for any damage.

Will be stressed af, and get so protective i swear

Will overthink it, he kinda has anger issues so he might think he did something that casued it??? Idk

When s/o wakes up he gonna be so realived. They really gave him a scare

Will ask if anyone hurt them? Or is it like normal for them

Overall 7/10 probably died 5times while waiting for you to wake up

Vincent Sinclair

Tralala vibing with my love lala HU- WHY ARE THRT ON FLOOR??? UHH BO? BO! S/O IS IN FLOOR

Will knee and check breathing and heart beat. Of thank god at least they are alive

With bo's help carried them to bed room and he didnt leave their side! Holding their hand whole time

When they wake up he gonna shower them with kisses and hugs!!! Yay so you are alive!!! Yay!!

Will lay in bed with them, moving his legs in air while s/o turns into Wiki page and tells him all sympptoms, what to do ect

Overall 8/10 live laugh love Vincent

Lester Sinclair

S/o got to tell this man about their 'fainting problem' before it happends

Bcs this dude might cry, or have mental break down

Especially if it happend when yall where in Forest, AWAY FROM ANYONE THAT COULD HELP OR COMFORT

S/o probavly gonna wake up in middle of car ride home and this guy will be so relived

Guy will acually take notes of stuff he needs to know about their fainting problem, so in case he panics next time he has everything written down

Overall 9/10 boy is doing his best

Jason Voorhees

P.A.N.I.C

Immediately picks them up, so so worried, will check their heartbeat by putting his ear on their chest

Lays them down on the most comfy bed he could find in this god forsaken camp

Sits down next to it (probably in chair or if there's non he will just sit on ground)

When they wake up he will be so so happy but also so so puzzled? Did you ate something bad? Were you too hot? Too tired? Too worried? What happened! Tell him

You gotta to tell him step by step how to react, how to notice that s/o will faint and what to do afterwards

Man will be on full alert after every time they pass out. Like this guy will lay them gently down, put water bottle right next to them so it's close and litteraly stab anyone in 100meter radius (boi gets protective)

Overall 8/10 good care taker

Myers Micheal

... okay? So your sleeping now??? Weird

Nah but fr he was in ASYLUM for FEW years, he probably saw plenty of people who pass out, due to stress, emotions, self destructive stuff ect ect

So he knows what to do and how to do. But he simply doesn't want to lol

Hes sure that you will be fine. He will just make sure that you didht break anything or that you are laying in position that makes you able to breath of course

S/o gonna wake up with muscle pain and headache :(

Gonna tell micheal that. No babe you arent edgy, you are just an asshole

Next time he gonna sigh loudly and put s/o back to bed. Only because they gonna be mad at him afterwards.. its not that he cares! Pfff micheal? He totally doesn't care pfff

Overall 4/10 will judge the position you passed out in

Billy lenz

Will sit on their chest, litteraly he gonna choke them frfr. But he didnt mean to so it doesnt count!

Will talk to them while they are passed out

Will drag them to couch because no way in hell hes going to drag them all way upstairs

Will get bored and lonley >:(

When s/o wakes up they have to explain to him that, no s/o wasn't sleeping, they were timed out of life

Gonna bring them glas of water

Gonna look at them with his goblin eyes,and be like 'sooo can we play uno now?' 'Honey I see everything doubled now 'okay... so can we play uno now'

Next time they pass out he is gonna put them in so many blankets they turn into burrito (not only in looks but also its probably extremely hot)

Overall 6/10 would rather play uno

Asa emory

"Ooh honey..." picks them up✅, carries to bed✅, puts in right position✅, grabs water and mess from kitchen✅

He is so ✅✅✅

Will ask them about how they feel, do they need to puke? Maybe stronger meds? Are you cold? Or maybe too hot?

But he isn't very 'in your face' with all those questions, he asks them just like doctor would, with absolute no emotion or huge facial reactions. He knows it might be stressful or overwhelming

Will give space if needed

He also made sure to reread books and articles about people who pass out randomly to make sure to read theirs body language

Dont worry little butterfly you can rest now

Overall 10/10 but made you watch his beatle collections while you couldn't leave bed

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youphoriaot7 · 8 months

Text

just saw a heart-wrenching edit on tiktok (sad music and all) about q!cellbit and the way he interacts with the eggs and i just...

i remember when i was still getting into the qsmp (which i did from cellbit's pov) and was scrolling the wiki on the daily, trying to figure out past lore and relationships and everything

and every single time i clicked on an egg's page i would end up seeing cellbit's face somewhere in the relationship box. and it always made me grin so wide because it was just...cute. and then i realized a lot of them had even mentioned things like him being one of their favorite tios or whatever and i'm just so. fucking. soft. about the idea of just-

this guy. comes to this island. in the middle of nowhere—doesn't really know how he ended up there, doesn't remember much about where he came from, nothing. and, like, it's natural to be a bit skittish or at least defensive, especially when there's already so many people here, because you don't know what they will do to you, how they'll react to anything: they are essentially unknown entities.

and if you really think about it, that completely includes the eggs. because although they're just kids, q!cellbit was canonically in a war at, like, age 15. he's definitely not one to underestimate someone because of their age—he is damn well aware of how scary people can be, regardless of what their age is.

but then they start interacting, and, like—tallulah gives him flowers, and ramon picks him for a partner in the boat race, and he's able to joke and play around with chayanne and bobby, and...in a way, it's like seeing himself, or rather, what he could have been.

because he never got that; he never got to do that. he can see the relationships they have with their parents—tallulah and chayanne with phil, ramon with fit, dapper with bbh, bobby with roier and jaiden—and he sort of comes to realize, like, "these kids don't know." they don't know what it's like to be at war. they don't know what it's like to end up in jail. they don't know what it's like to not be able to live because you're too focused on surviving. whether it's been that way in the past and they don't remember or not, they don't know.

and, inwardly, he decides he's going to make damn fucking sure it stays that way.

so he starts collecting flowers, to give some to tallulah the next time they meet, and the way she beams assures him he'll continue. and when ramon makes a mistake in the boat race and starts beating himself up about it, he empathizes and reassures him. (practically makes the poor kid cry.)

he sees the way chayanne takes the lead around the younger eggs and takes note, making sure to joke around and play with him whenever he can—because he may be the oldest, and the most responsible, but he deserves to have fun, too.

all of this includes richas, of course. in fact, it's even more exaggerated, to the extent that (in some ways similarly to fit) he mostly lets richas do what he wants, only growing concerned or stern if the kid's life is in danger. (because he saw what happened to bobby, and he's not going to let it happen on his watch.)

because there's enough pain in the world. chaos runs rampant on the island, from the federation to the codes, from the kidnappings to the tasks, from the bombs to the capybaras. there is death at every turn, and this island can be deceiving, because it doesn't seem like it. it seems perfectly fine.

but he knows.

he's been in this position before, where everyone and everything is trying to kill him. he's familiar with the concept of survival. and this island is survival.

but these are kids. they don't need that. hell, he had that as a kid, and look how he turned out. no, if he has anything to say about it, nothing will seem out of the ordinary. as much as he can help it. he will gives flowers to tallulah, he will make jokes with chayanne, he will explore with richas, he will spend time with ramon and dapper—all to offer even a semblance of normalcy.

so uh the fluff part of this train of thought is over so click off now if you don't want the hurt <3

but then things start to change. bobby dies, and the federation teases them about it, dangling the child above their heads. the codes ramp up their attacks. the kidnappings start to increase. people die and respawn more frequently. and the more he tries to get free, to get away from the island, the worse things get for the current inhabitants.

he meets pomme. this terrified egg that's been trapped behind a wall since before he even got there. and he realizes that he won't be able to shelter them forever.

things are going to happen, one way or another, to shatter the fragile illusion of reality the islanders are trying to create for these kids. in some way, the curtain is going to fall, and it is going to hurt. it's going to hurt as badly as it hurt him when he was thrown into battle. it's going to hurt as badly as it hurt him when he ended up in a top-security prison when he was barely an adult. it's going to hurt as badly as it hurt him when the wool was yanked away from his own eyes by that white bear not a week after his arrival on the island.

so whatever you do, don't think about what it must've felt like to find that book. don't think about what he must've been thinking as he flipped through those old, yellowed journal pages. don't think about him reading that lost egg's words, and just thinking, "god, this could've been me."

because it very well could've been.

the book literally talks about not wanting to survive, but wanting to live, and all he can think about for the rest of the day is how it was abandoned. same as him—only one was on a battlefield, and one was in this tiny-ass room. and there was no warrior in shining armor, no police officer taking pity to pull this egg out of there. he had someone. this egg had no one.

so of course he switches out the keychain on his backpack. because carrying that egg with him is like carrying a piece of himself, in just the same way that all the eggs feel like a piece of himself.

he can't protect the eggs forever. he knows that. but that doesn't mean he can't try.

#i'm just- i'm just really not okay thinking about the relationship of q!cellbit and the eggs.#long post #they genuinely make me so upset :( <3 #qsmp #qsmp drabble #qsmp headcanons #qsmp cellbit #qsmp eggs #ev;memory #character study #i don't even know if all of this is a hundred percent accurate i'm just.#spewing words and having feelings.

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hunterbunter3000 · 1 year

Note

I'm thinking of sweetheart being the mother of task force 141 when laswell isn't there like in the middle of the night when sweetheart is sleeping and just wakes up when she hears the door creaking and looks at the door and sees one of the boys looking like they were crying and they ask if they could cuddle with then because they had a nightmare and sweetheart just coos at them pats the empty spot so they can lay on and sweetheart spoons them making on of the boys feel safe and falls asleep immediately while sweetheart is slowly scratching their head

And then sweetheart falls asleep and when she wakes up of the cod boys are in her room, asleep and she just laughs and gets out of bed and go make some breakfast and coffee or tea for them

Like AHHODHDHEBR like if ghost was the one he would have slight tears in his eyes or konig I know damn well he would be holding a tiger teddy-

Fucking sobbing on the floor for this shit

I AM TOOOOO WTF THIS IS SO ADORABLE 😭😭😭 König holding a tiger teddy that he's had ever since he was a kid is making me ferallLLLLLLAAHHHH

LIKE MY MATERNAL INSTINCTS ARE JUST KICKING INNNNN

And I'm sorry- all I saw was König and tiger stuffy and now this whole thing is just about him AHAHANA

Brown Palace and Grey Oceans

(Help this got so long-- it always starts off funny and then i try to be an actual writer smh YOU'LL SEE WHAT I MEAN)

(I honestly don't know what König looks like... even the wiki lore isn't saying anything so I kinda just made him up myself 😅 like how everyone does LOL)

Süße Torte = Sweet Pie

Cw.: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFFY FLUFF

Word count: long. (IDK HOW TO DO A WORD COUNT)

Yk damn WELL König would open her door as quietly as possible and tip toe to her. He would second guess waking her up cause she looks so damn peaceful sleeping. Her eyelashes laying gently on her soft cheeks, the moonlight shining on her brown skin, making her look ethereal. But he needs comfort right now. The nightmare he had, he can't deal with that by himself.

So he would gently shake Sweetheart's shoulder. And she would SO wake up like a parent would: gasping for air, wide eyed and jerking back. He would step back and apologize. He thinks this was a bad idea but Sweetheart stops him.

Sweetheart, wiping her eyes and sleep in her voice: What's wrong hun?

König, holding his tiger to his side: Uhm... I had a bad... very bad dream.

He breathes in deep, tears welling in his eyes.

König, voice shaking: Can I please sleep with you...?

Sweetheart could hear her heart break. Seeing such a unit of a man be dwindled down to this... (I WANNA HUG HIM)

Her eyebrows knit together, sad that he feels this way. She scoots over and pats her bed. König sniffs, hand rubbing his nose under his home hood. (The brown embroidered hood Sweetheart made him for the base)

He squeezes in there, both of them getting situated in her already small bed. Sweetheart has most of the blanket, but König doesn't care. As long as he's with someone. (Sweetheart specifically)

He turns to her body, face now in her bosom. His eyes go wide, and he looks up at her. She smiles warmly at him. Her eyes go to the little tiger teddy he's holding in his hands. She coos at him.

Sweetheart: How long have you had that?

König feels embarrassed. He kinda forgot he even brought it with him, as it's his comfort companion. (His grandma found it in the attic and sent it to him)

He curses as he hides it behind his back, but Sweetheart grabs his arm. She holds the stuffed tiger, a cute tiny smile and round ears with stripes loosely sewn on the fading base. A big black button for the eye, but the other one is missing, it's just an opening. It's missing a tail, and some tears are on the body. A very old stuffed animal, but Sweetheart can tell it's loved.

Sweetheart: it's so cute... what's the name?

She's not judging him. A grown man, standing at a whopping 6'10, owns an old tiger stuffed animal that he has had ever since he was a child. And she's not judging him. Not laughing in his face and kicking him out. She's asking what his name is, with curiosity in her eyes. How is she real?

König, whispering: ....Hobbes.

Sweetheart: Pardon?

König, speaking a bit louder: His name is-- is Hobbes.

Sweetheart, gasps: Like from Calvin and Hobbes?

König, perks up: You know of those comics?

Sweetheart, giggling: Hell yeah! I used to read them constantly when I was younger. I still have them actually at my home! You could read some if you want when I go back.

König, getting excited and feeling better: I would love that, Süße Torte. Thank you.

Sweetheart, smiling and giving Hobbes back to him: No problem. Are you feeling tired?

He nods his head, about to take off his hood but stops himself. He looks at Sweetheart, eyes asking 'Should I take this off? Will you be uncomfortable?' She looks back him. 'The real question is, will You be uncomfortable if you take it off?'

König thinks on this. He looks back at her brown eyes. Her soft, dark eyes. Eyes that suck him every time he looks at them, entering the smoky quartz palace he would stay in forever. Eyes that always make him feel safe, wrapping him in the darkest color of silk. Eyes that hold many stories and love. Sensual, trustworthy eyes. He can trust her.

König: I trust you.

He takes it off and places it on the floor, face bare and open to the world. He could have sworn Sweetheart's eyes sparkled with actual stars when they got wide. His messy, auburn brown hair is swept back. Thick, soft angeled eyebrows nervously twitch under the hard stare from the woman.

And his eyes, oh, his round, gentle eyes. The ones that light up and shine when she looks at them. The grayish green tint reminded her of clear ocean water, wanting to swim in them forever. Eyes that hold many stories and many secrets. Beautiful eyes. He's beautiful to her.

With his crooked and scarred nose, he has broken many times over the years. Pink downturned lips, curtained over with a thin brown beard on a sharp jaw.

König gulps, eyes still focused on hers. They're staring into each other's color, too far gone to come back to reality. Sweetheart breaks it after what it felt like hours. She starts to laugh quietly, making König confused and a bit self-conscious. She looks back up at him.

Sweetheart, scoffing in disbelief: Who would've thought you were so pretty under those hoods...

He can't breathe.

Sweetheart, still shocked: I mean I never would've guessed. You're... wow.

She places her hand on his sharp cheek. Skin on skin. Warmth. He can feel it. Finally.

Sweetheart: You're really beautiful, Y'know that König?

He can't-- this- it's too much. Overwhelming. Her warm hand, the soft awe look in her eye, her scent, her words, her eyes-- it's too much.

He dips into her neck, hiding his face as his hands wrap around her.

König, beet red: Can we please just- go to sleep? My heart... my heart can't take much more of this.

Sweetheart giggles, wrapping her hands on his head.

Sweetheart: of course.

Her long nails scratch the nape of his neck, almost making König purr. He relaxes into her, molding his body against hers, as they finally give themselves to the night.

König woke up on an empty bed. The sunlight poked at his eyes, telling him to start his day. His hand feels the cozy sheets, where Sweetheart's supposed to be. Sweetheart. Where is she?

He rolls over but falls on the floor with a huge thud and a yelp, and her items shudder from his clumsiness. He grabs his hood as he gets up, stretching his sleepy body. How long was he asleep? It felt like a coma. But nonetheless, he feels extremely well rested, with Sweetheart in his arms and Hobbes-- wait a minute...

Where's Hobbes?

His heart rate picks up as he speeds walk out of her room. Are the others awake? Is she showing them? Making fun of him? No, no please no.

He gets out of his head when he Sweetheart in the living area alone, repairing Hobbes. She hums as she works with a smile, bonnet still on her head, wearing a big sweater and leggings with her legs crossed. She ticks up and sees König.

Sweetheart, waving at him: Good morning, baby! How'd ya sleep?

Baby?

Baby. She called him baby.

König stumbles back a bit. He shakes his head and clears his throat, an overwhelming feeling replacing the over-thinking.

König: yeah. I mean- fine! Good. Wonderful. I slept wonderfully. It was... I needed that. Thank you.

Sweetheart, chuckling: Of course! By the way, there's coffee and some eggs I made you in the kitchen. If you want it.

König, feeling his heart melt: Oh, thank you Süße Torte. I appreciate it.

She nods her head, continuing back to repairing Hobbes with her needle and thread. König relishes this feeling. The feeling of them being the only ones awake, the feeling of having breakfast made, the feeling of enjoying one's presence. It felt right. It felt domesticated. It felt...

Like they were together. In a relationship. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Husband and wife.

He shakes his head, almost spilling the sugar he was pouring for his coffee. He looks back at Sweetheart, still in her own world, being her. Being perfect.

Boyfriend and girlfriend. He scoffs, mixing his coffee. Please, that will never happen.

You're really beautiful, y'know that König?

He stops.

You're... wow.

His heart beating fast yet sinking at the same time. A small sick feeling in his stomach but butterflies in his chest. He collects his eggs and coffee and places it on the table before heading to Sweetheart on the couch. He sits across from her, watching her working hands, nimble and caring to Hobbes' tears. She sees him and smiles, showing her work.

Sweetheart: Look! I'm almost done sewing up his little scars. I also fixed his eye and tightened his ears and limbs! I need to wash and refill him, though.

She went on and on, rambling on what to do for Hobbes. König smiles. He hasn't done that in so long. He takes off his hood and places his hand on her knee. Their eyes meet, hers sparkling again from seeing his face.

König, sincerely smiling: I thank you for all that you have done for me. In just a short time... I feel like I found myself again.

Sweetheart beams. She's so glad she could help him out. Seeing König in that state last night makes her heart feel heavy, but none of that. He's happy. He's relaxed. He's grateful.

Her hand rests on top of his, and he moves his into hers, Sweetheart's now perched atop of his. The sun smiles on their eyes, their different colored crystals gleam bright.

Sweetheart: You're welcome.

They stayed like that, enjoying each other's company until they were sucked in.

Her Brown Palace and His Grey Oceans.

Lil Bonus.!

Sweetheart: Have you noticed that Hobbes doesn't have a tail?

König, snickering: Yes, I know. When I was little, Krueger would fight me over Hobbes. And one day, he pulled on it so hard that he ripped off the tail. I cried for days.

Sweetheart:

Sweetheart, getting up: Imma choke him out.

König: Sweetheart no that was years ago!

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Thank ya for reading ♡🙏

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