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misstycloud · 29 days

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Imagine yandere vampire hunter finding out he married one of the creatures he vowed to destroy. The very monster he dedicated his entire life to kill.

“…no..i-it can’t be..” his voice was barely a whisper, but you heard it loud and clear as if he was right next to you.

You stood still in the darkness, your face was a mask of indifference. If you hadn’t been blinking he would have mistook you for a statue. It appeared you’d been careless and let yourself be seen- by him no less. You could still feel the warmth of the blood dripping down you chin; a curtain of red fell down the front of your dress and stained it.

“Please tell me this isn’t real..” your husband let his eyes wander to the soon-lifeless body laying not far away. Small puffs of air was seen coming for the person, indicating they were not yet dead. The disgusting sound of gurgling in one’s own blood sent a shiver down his spine. His eyes met yours, searching for any sort of confirmation that everything was indeed a figment of his imagination.

“It is, I’m afraid.” You said.

He let out a devestatd choke, muttering ‘no’ over and over while shaking his head, clearly in denial.

You reminded yourself not to show any emotion and stepped forward. “I will not lie to you and therefor I will utter the clear truth in front of you. I am a vampire.”

“No, no you’re not.” He refused to believe it. If it had been his friend; he would prioritise duty before friendship. If it was his brother; he would do the same. Even if it was his own parents; he would die before letting insensible things such as emotions to come in the way of doing what is right. But this was different. It was you. It can’t be you. It could never be you.

But it was. Clearly. The evidence- the body- was right in front of him; unblinking and unmoving.

“You cannot look away from what is in front of you-“

“Stop saying that!” He suddenly shouted, surprising you with the sudden change in tone. “You can’t be one of….them.” He expressed in great repulsion.

Despite knowing how evil your kind is, you still though of yourself as quite good- well, as good as you can be when you’re a blood sucking, murderous creature of the night. So your husbands disdain awoke some sort of defensiveness in you.

“Well I am. And I have been for a while now.”

He seemed to think for a moment. Then he asked, “how long? How long have you been a…a vampire?” He furrowed his brow at the end, not believing he’d connect ‘you’ and the word ‘vampire’ in his life.

“36 years. Not as long as some others, but it should still count as something.”

“Oh god..”

It meant that you were one since the start- no before- your marriage. Was he truly that blind? Had love taken such hold of him that he could no longer do his job properly?

How many vampires had he killed during you union? All that while simultaneously being wed to one himself. While loving one, caring for one and even making passionate love to one. It was like some fucked-up punishment tailor-made for him.

He knew what he had to do.

The first tear fell down his cheek, betraying his stern expression and showcasing his endless sorrow. “You are evil,” he raised his crossbow, “and now you have to be judged for your crimes.” How ironic of him to talk about committing crimes of slaughter as if he wasn’t doing exactly the same. He wasn’t stupid; not all immortals were pure darkness, it wasn’t that simple. They do what they have to in order to survive. Only some killed more than they had to. Still, it didn’t change the fact that they all need to be destroyed.

Your eyes widened when he pointed the weapon straight at you. You expected this. Of course he would kill you. However, a part of you could not stop from hoping he wouldn’t think of you as a monster. That perhaps you’d finally find somewhere you can call home and be accepted for what you are. It was a naive dream. Weren’t you his wife before you were a monster? Apparently not, because an arrow shot at you at incredible speed. It hit you in the arm and you cried out in pain.

While you had physical advantages, it doesn’t mean you are immune to pain.

Ripping it out, you studied the black liquid staining it. Your husband swore and immediately prepared to launch another. You felt your fangs grow in length and you hissed at him. Throwing yourself at him the two of you rolled around on the floor, each trying to restrain the other. You managed to get ahold of his crossbow and threw it away form his reach.

Your husband quickly dug into his pockets to grab a dagger, and tried to stab you. Luckily you stopped him in time, fighting him with your vampiric strength. You had to give it to him, he was surprisingly strong for a human. Despite you having supernatural gifts, he was definitely a match and you had a hard time holding you down. If it was any other situation you would have been impressed and rather seduced by his sheer strength, unfortunately this was not a good situation for you.

You leaned down, planning to bite him, but his fast reflexes let him use his free arm to keep you at a distance. He was now on the floor with you straddling him and trying with all your might to end his life.

Your husband knocked your heads together which was the distraction he needed to kick you off of him. You clenched you forehead in pain and backed away. But there was no more time to dwell on that pain, because it was minor compared to what you felt next. Agony was in your side, accompanied by the dagger you had previously defended yourself against.

Your lover was close. Enough for you to feel his breath, and enough for you to see tears running down his regretful face.

“Why was it you?”

Whether he referred to you being a vampire or you being the one he married, you did not know. It hardly mattered anyway.

In a way, you did love your husband. It was probably not in the normal spousal way but it was there. Maybe if you weren’t a blood-sucker you two would have been truly happy together. Too bad fate had other plans. Even though it was true that you were probably evil, you wanted to live. And despite the one threatening your existence was none other than the man who’d show a you devotion and love you though t you’d never find again, this was not where you wanted it to end.

With a shriek, you used all your power to push him as hard as you could. He flew backwards into the wall. You supposed he’d fainted from the force since he wasn’t making any move to get up. You clutched your side and groaned. You had to get out of there; somewhere safe.

You stumbled to the window and put your foot on the ledge. The dagger he’d stabbed you with must be silver, otherwise it wouldn’t have made as much damage. The wound in your side burned and sizzled with pain. You had no idea if your body would be able to fully heal you in time for when you need blood again- or even at all.

“Ugh….”

You heard a cough from behind you. It was your dearest. He must be sturdier than he looks to have woken up so quickly. He had rolled over to lay on his stomach and had his arms pathetically stretched in your direction.

“D-don’t go.”

You scoffed at his audacity. “What, so you can finally finish me off?”

He whimpered, “ N-no, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have done that- why did I do that?” The last part appeared to be a criticism on himself. Nevertheless he continued, “please, I won’t do it again. I was wrong, you’re not evil I know that, I don’t know why I said that. I’m so sorry, please..”

A frown adorned your face. “It’s okay. I’m not evil, but I know I’m far from good- I’m not that delusional.” Then you turned back to the view of the outside world.

“Wait, no-“

“I have to go. I really mean it when I say this, ‘thank you for all these years together, they have been the happiest days I am now able to remember’.

“My love, don’t-“

You ignored his pleas as you jumped from the window. You landed in the dirt outside. You looked back at the house which you’d just escaped from and as you prepared to run off to another town and build up a new life (until you’d eventually have to run again) you listened to the scream of the man who’d been your husband for six years.

What was he screaming? What else if not your name.

#oc #male yandere #obsessed #yandere oc #possesive #misstycloud oc #yandere husband #vampire hunter husband #vampire reader #wife reader #vampire wife reader #yandere x reader #toxic #yandere husband x wife reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere imagine #fantasy #yandere human x vampire reader

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remuslupinslittleslut · 3 months

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Teach us - Part one

@missakward123: can you do dom! reader poly marauders? Also loved this!! Yes I can, but I have such a hard time writing a sub!Remus, so I kinda took it in my own direction.

Part two is found here!

Reader x Remus turned into Reader x Poly!Marauders.

Masterlist.

They thought it was strange how Remus had been the first to lose his virginity out of the three of them. Both Sirius and James had girls throwing themselves after them constantly, but somehow, Remus was the first to go all the way.

You had always found them all quite attractive, but thought that Sirius and James tended to be a bit obnoxious at times. When you saw Remus studying alone in the library one day, you thought you’d go up and say hi to the tall, handsome guy. The two of you had only talked briefly before this interaction, but soon found that you enjoyed each other’s company. It didn’t take long from there for you to go on a date and soon you were a couple.

Remus, ever the gentleman, didn’t tell his friends about your first time, he thought it was best kept private between the two of you, therefore you always tried to keep it somewhat lowkey, finding time to be perfectly alone. Though any secret could not be held for long in that dorm and one evening the cat came running and screaming out of the bag. You thought you’d get to be alone with Remus, as the other two had practice. As it turned out, however, practice was canceled and the door to the dorm was thrown open just in time for the two surprised boys to see you orgasm, quivering around Remus’ cock.

It slightly ruined the mood and you struggled to cover yourself as Sirius went on a long rampage about “The betrayal! The absolute betrayal. Our baby moons got laid and didn’t tell us. Here he is, having had sex the whole time – while keeping us in the dark.” He was pacing back and forth, only half joking about his distress before deciding to be the bigger person and be happy for his friend. “Good job Moons. First one out of all of us. Amazing.” With a chef’s kiss he left the subject of betrayal and moved on to something else.

After the embarrassing moment of coming in front of your boyfriend’s friends, it didn’t take long before the question was asked.

“Hey Moony, since you already had sex, could you teach us how to do it?”

“Yeah, Moons, I wanna be ready for when Lily lets me go all the way if you catch my drift,” James agreed, with a very unnecessary wink as everyone understood exactly what he meant.

You stared, gaping. That they would ask such a question didn’t surprise you one bit. The fact that Remus seemed to be actually thinking it over did.

“I guess,” he started, patting your thigh, “you’re gonna ask her if she’s willing to teach you.”

You, teaching his friends how to have sex? The idea was preposterous. Yet… It did make you feel a certain tingle between your legs. You still found them attractive, and the thought of being the one to take their virginities? Oh, that was just beautiful. You thought it over in your head. Remus was quite dominant, not really treating you as a submissive but he liked being a bit in control, he’d never let you have all the reigns. These two however… Looking Remus straight in the eye, you searched for any form of hesitance – you didn’t find any.

“Alright then, we’re gonna have to set some rules,” you said.

It was agreed that the day after, you’d help take your boyfriend’s best friends’ virginities. You said 24 hours to give everyone a chance to back out, and told them very specifically that they would shower, properly, “none of that locker room stuff, a real shower, clean everything.” It was best to be clear when dealing with teenage boys.

A whole 24 hours later you found yourself walking up the stairs to their dorm. You knew Remus would be there, and you knew they’d given consent. You wore your school skirt, but without panties, a t-shirt with a very flattering bra and your hair out. You had to get yourself in that dominant mood, ready to boss the boys around. Since becoming Remus’ girlfriend, you had gotten to know his friends as well. You knew James would be easier to dom, and you knew Sirius would be a little brat. Therefore, you started with James. Opening the door, you could cut the tension with a knife.

The boys were so cute and nervous, standing up and waiting for you (not Remus, of course, he was comfortably splayed out on his own bed). “Jamie,” you said. “Do you still wanna do this?” He nodded. “Okay, then take your clothes off and sit down on your bed. You,” you turned to Sirius, “are gonna have to wait your turn.”

When James was naked and seated on the edge of his bed, you took a moment to appreciate his toned body. The moment didn’t last very long though as you wanted to feel him. Climbing into his lap, thighs straddling his, you took his face and held it in your hands. He was so pretty, so soft, so pliable. “Jamie, have you ever kissed a girl?” you asked him, bringing your mouth so close to his that your lips almost touched his. “No,” he said, cheeks flushing red. Holding onto his cheeks, you brought your lips against his, softly at first, then with a little more pleasure. The warm breath from his nose on your cheek sent chills down your spine. Deciding to progress, you slightly opened your mouth, letting your tongue out to lick lightly at his lips. He moaned.

You continued kissing him, making out really, until you felt he was ready to move on. Leaning back a little, you pulled your top over your head, revealing your soft tits, perfectly framed by your bra. “Go ahead, baby, you can touch.” With your permission, warm hands pressed against your back before following the lines of your body, meeting your front and lightly squeezing your tits. You allowed him to explore freely, until he pushed his head down, paused and looked up at you, eyes asking for permission. Instead of answering him verbally, you pushed your tits against his face, letting him know he could kiss and suck all he wanted. He did manage to get your bra off all on his (you were so proud of him), and as it fell to the floor, you felt his cock twitching.

You let him play some more with your boobies before taking his hand, kissing it once and telling him “Jamie, have you ever felt a girl?” When he shook his head, you kissed the top of his head and pushed his hand down, between your bodies and toward your core. “Feel that? I’m all wet, that’s all for you baby,” you cooed, watching his facial expressions in awe – he was so fascinated. “Now, do you know where your little cock is supposed to go?” Little was a big lie. His brows furrowed in concentration as he felt around for the right hole, he did find it, and pushed a finger in. “Good boy, now put your cock in.” You raised yourself, hovering above him, hand coming down to help him push his cock into your warm hole. “Oh that’s a good boy f’me,” you moaned, loving the feeling of him filling you up.

Being so focused on James had almost made you forget about your audience, looking to the side, you met Remus’ hungry eyes. You could tell he was enjoying the show, hand rubbing against the bulge in his pants. You decided not to look at Sirius, making him wait for your attention.

Grabbing James’ shoulders, you carefully tried moving, sliding yourself along his cock, making you both moan. You tried a few different movements, going up and down, back and forth. It felt really good and you enjoyed playing around with it, and it seemed as though he was enjoying it too, his head thrown back, glasses askew and mouth slightly open. Suddenly his hands squeezed hard on your hips, making you stop your movements. “Jamie, you okay?” You asked, massaging his scalp with your fingers. “Yeah,” he reassured, “yeah, just need to… I’m gonna come…”

You giggled softly, “it’s okay if you do, but first, I wanna do one more thing.” Pulling your body away from his was hard, letting his heavy cock fall out of you was even harder, and you immediately mourned the loss. Though, you knew it would be worth it. Laying down flat on your back, you beckoned for him to join you, to climb on top of you. “You should know how to fuck a girl, Jamie,” you said, helping him find his way back into you. His athletic body was made for this, for moving himself back and forth, hips pushing against yours. He didn’t go very fast, but you knew he’d be able to when he got more used to the feeling. Hiding his face against your neck, letting the vibrations of his moans shoot right through you, his hips started making the smallest, cutest, most desperate little movements. “That’s good baby, that’s a good boy, you’re doing so well, so good, making me feel so good.” You didn’t think you’d be able to come, he was a virgin, but the little thrusts pushed the head of his cock against you in a way that just felt too good to hold back.

“Jamie, baby, I’m ‘bout to come,” you moaned, kissing his head, holding him close, “you’re so go- ah-od,” your moans grew louder as you experienced a rather mild orgasm, though, an orgasm nonetheless. Your walls spasming around him made him come as well, pretty cock filling you up with his little virgin cum.

“Wow, Jamie, you did so well, I’m so proud of you,” you told him, after he had pulled out and collapsed on top of you. His head was still buried in the crook of your neck, his breathing fast and hard. “Did you enjoy it?” You asked, to which he pulled his face away, eyes wide. “Like it? That was amazing.”

You stayed like that, letting him hold onto your body for a while, not wanting to leave him without aftercare and love. Though you knew, as soon as James moved away from you, you’d have to deal with his mischievous best friend. Before you let James continue his cuddling – with Remus – you made him promise you something. “Next time love, you’re gonna let me take your cute little cock in my mouth, okay?” To this, he nodded, excitedly.

Part two.

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ohnococo · 21 days

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Sleep Tight | Hiromi Higuruma x Reader

Higuruma’s job leaves him busy, which means the two of you spend far too long as two passing ships, unable to indulge your urges.

He asks for one night to catch up on his sleep, then he’s all yours - but it turns out his body isn’t quite willing to let him make it through that night without being taken care of.

❥ WC: 2.4k

❥ Notes: a request for @bas-writes - Higuruma is so fun to write, thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

❥ Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, SOMNOPHILIA (reader receiving), fem bodied reader/no pronouns used, established relationship, wet dreams (mentions of grinding, oral sex/deep-throating), mentions of masturbation, mentions of semi-public masturbation, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, creampie, sleepy sex

Higuruma feels like a complete fucking idiot.

He’d been pulling all-nighters for weeks now. Coming home well after you were asleep, then forced to get up and leave only a handful of hours later. His work was hard at the best of times, but not even having the respite of time with you had turned it into something much like running a marathon in lead shoes. But the only way out of it was through, and when things had finally settled down you were so eager to make up for lost time.

But… that extended lack of sleep and all of that stress had caught up to him. He’d apologised and apologised again and it still didn’t feel like enough, but he just needed one good night of sleep and he would be on you like it was the last day of your lives the following morning, he’d promised. And you’d accepted, being the caring partner that you are.

Except he didn’t even make it to morning, not properly. Or rather, Higuruma wasn’t counting it as morning, considering the sun wasn’t even up yet. But here he was, barely rested, still so tired he felt almost delirious. And here he was, so fucking hard his balls hurt and he thinks he might have discovered you can actually be so horny that it leaves you with a pounding headache.

It’s not the first time he’d woken up either. The first time, he’d opened his eyes, realised he was humping the mattress, and checked the clock to see it was midnight. You weren’t in bed yet, and he was still exhausted, so he ignored the stirring in his pyjamas, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

Then he awoke and found himself hard again, cock pressed against the heavy duvet, trying to tent it despite not standing a chance against its weight. It was past uncomfortable at that point, but he turned to look at the clock and see those gently lit numbers telling him it was only just past 1 am. Once he’d heard you sighing next to him, he’d realised that you’d only just come to bed. It felt unfair to wake you, especially when his limbs still felt so heavy and he was tired enough that rolling onto his side was a feat. So again, he readjusted himself, and fell back asleep.

The next time he’d woken up, it was around 3 am, and he’d decided that his pyjamas weren't helping with his discomfort, constricting the erection that had returned once again, this time accompanied by a dream of you sitting on his lap and grinding against him. He’d groaned outright at that point.

First his work keeps him from sleeping, keeps him from you. Then the accumulated tiredness keeps him from you instead. And now, the result of so many days without satisfying his insatiable need for you keeps him from getting the sleep he needs to solve his little problem. An endless loop of torment for a man like him, who is more insatiable than most.

When he’d tried to adjust himself in search of a little comfort, he’d found his clothes sticky and clinging to him, precum having made them nearly translucent over this stressful night. He’d done what he could, sliding them off and kicking them out of the bed entirely before letting himself doze back off with that small semblance of relief.

But now it’s 4 am and his cock is throbbing, rudely interrupting his dream of you waking him up with your mouth on him. It was so vivid he’d almost been convinced it was real until he turned to see you were lying next to him, asleep, and not between his legs looking up at him from where his cock was buried in your throat.

Higuruma groans, wiping sweat from his upper lip, staring at the ceiling with his arms helplessly by his sides. He decides that his body won’t be letting him get any sleep until he solves this problem. Then he decides his mind had been admonishing him for being so selfish. Taking all the extra hours he can instead of delegating his work, denying your offer to empty his aching balls, and here he was dreaming of only his own pleasure. So he decides to focus on you first, at least enough to ensure you get yours. He slowly slides the duvet off of you both to pool at the bottom of the bed, and feels almost giddy at his absolute luck after his poor cock had been through so much turmoil.

It’s as if it were meant to happen, with you laying on your back, legs spread, shirt shoved up from tossing and turning of your own. You’re so ready for him, ready to be touched, that he can’t turn back now. He crawls slowly, pausing when the bed creaks or dips too low, until he’s settled himself between your legs. Face to face with your thinly veiled pussy, he can see a wetness of your own has formed, nearly outlining the contours of your slit, and he has to bite his fist to stop from groaning at the sight. It solidifies it for him, sheepishly jerking himself off over on his lonesome side of the bed could never be an option after looking at you in this state.

He moves his face closer, breathing you in, releasing that breath shakily onto your skin, and presses a slack tongue to the damp fabric. His eyes snap up, watching your reaction, but you only let out a breath barely louder than the last. He licks slowly, slowly upwards, eyes rolling as he gets a hint of the taste he knows so well through that dampened fabric, and when even that doesn’t do much to wake you, he concentrates his efforts on your clit.

It’s swollen enough to make its pert little self known through your clothing, and when he flicks at it with the tip of his tongue you let out a deep sigh. It has that little hint of something more that makes him realise that you’d almost certainly been just as pent up as he had. As his guilt at leaving you high and dry swells, so does his cock as his mind inundates him with vivid images of you clenching your thighs and squirming while missing having him there in your bed. Images of you frustrated, whining his name when your fingers and toys couldn’t do what he could. Images vivid enough that they almost felt like visions of what had indeed been happening in his absence. You, left here touching yourself night after night but finding those orgasms didn’t quite go as deep as they needed to without his cock and face and fingers to ride.

That’s more or less how the weeks had gone for Higuruma, when he felt like his head was going to explode during his late nights at work and the only way to stop it was to lock himself in the leaky bathroom on the abandoned floor above and beat his dick hard and fast while scrolling through whatever sweet little pictures you’d last sent him to remind him that you were home and waiting and meals weren’t quite as nice without him there to enjoy them with. It was never really satisfying, just a means to an end so he can think of something other than whining into your neck while you milk him dry.

It makes his heart clench, saddened and flattered at the unconfirmed but may-as-well-be-true-to-him thought that you might be helplessly fucking your pussy to thoughts of him. That maybe you were even dreaming about it now, like you couldn’t have the real thing, and you hadn’t - for far too long for how insatiable the two of you had been during your seemingly endless honeymoon phase. Higuruma thinks that he’ll never make you go so long without him again, even if he has to fuck you in his office, even if you have to climb on his cock while he’s passed out and dreaming of you sitting on his face.

These thoughts and the taste of you on his tongue act as a pincer attack on his hazy mind. It makes him forget himself, swiping his nose at your clit as his tongue busies itself trying to press at your entrance through the thin cloth keeping him from you. It’s not gentle, or subtle, but Higuruma isn’t thinking straight, not now that his mind is sending him on a spiral of filthy thoughts about how he needs to make you cum so hard you forget every night you’d been alone. He licks and nuzzles and sucks until your underwear are clinging to every contour of your pussy and even then he hovers so very close to grazing his teeth along your folds before he just catches himself.

It’s too much, because it’s too little, and his aching cock begs him to take care of you both as soon as possible. By the time he’s sitting up to settle between your spread legs his hands are shaking, and he has to hold his breath to steady them as he peels the sodden fabric away from you and pulls it to the side.

The way you glisten in the moonlight has him emotional, enough that he swears there are tears welling in his eyes - a pressure relieved by letting out a low sigh, shaky and distraught, as he pumps his cock in his hand and lines it up with you. Half of him wants to toy with you further, gliding his head against you, seeing if you’ll mewl for it the way he has to hold himself back from crying out for you, but the other half wins out as his cock throbs just from the lightest touch against you.

He pushes in, and the sticky sound of diving into your wetness makes his stomach clench, eyes rolling back as he bites his lip to stop from making the pathetic noise his body so badly wanted to release. He starts to push deeper, pausing and shaking his head as he realises it’ll just leave him cumming far too quickly, and that’s not what he’s here for right now, so he pulls back. His knees slide forward, nudging at your legs gently, as he repositions himself and starts making shallow thrusts, his tip just reaching deep enough to press and slide until he has your lips parting to release soft moans and your chest rising and falling faster and faster.

He grazes the pad of his thumb over your clit, holding his breath when it makes you clench around him, so he does it again. You only get wetter for him as he goes, warmer, more malleable as you beckon him to sink deeper and fill you completely, but he knows he has to wait, for both of your sakes. So he shuts his eyes, head falling back as he keeps the first few inches of himself lazily working at you, knowing he’ll get there eventually even like this.

You sigh, and squirm, and clench him again and again, sounds of your bodies like a wet squelch of a kiss as you work his tip even in dreams, and Higuruma doesn’t dare look at you - knowing that’ll be the end of him if he sees exactly what he’s feeling below. Instead he works his way just barely deeper, willing himself to enjoy the journey until that telltale clenching lets him know he can let go fully.

But his hastily laid plans change as you let out a moan and your knees lift towards your chest, a sound too loud and a move too big for you to still be sleeping. He looks down to find you looking as desperate as he feels right now with your curling toes and clenching hands. He doesn’t know when you woke up, but he knows you’re awake now, even if your eyes are closed, and your hands are down by your sides gripping the sheets tightly. He thrusts deep, for the first time in too long, and it makes you open your eyes, coming face to face with him as the tight squeeze of being buried so fully sends him bucking forward and catching himself with hands on either side of you.

“You’re awake.”

You laugh, breathy, clenching at him with the sound as he sets a new pace of long thrusts, “You’re fucking me.”

The hot breath of his laugh collides with yours as he gives you that lovesick smile that only has your pussy desperate to be ruined by him, so you wrap your arms around him and kiss at the corners of his mouth as you instruct him to finish what he’d started. “Go on, then.”

It’s playful, a soft challenge that has him hissing as he settles on his pace, heavy balls slapping at your ass as he makes sure you feel every inch of him you’d been without. He tries his best to keep his movements steady, but is all too aware of how he stays buried deep a little longer before pulling back with each thrust. He goes on like this until he’s barely leaving your heat, the thatch of hair scattered at his base rubbing against you with his desperate rocking.

Then you’re squeezing him tight, with arms and legs and pussy alike and it has him crying out. His full weight falls on top of you as all of his energy goes into thrusting - and staving off his body’s desperate call to release until you’re good and ready to squeeze it out of him on the tail end of your sleep-heightened orgasm. He sucks at your neck, sloppy and wet and barely muffling his shuddering groans until you’re finally cumming on his cock and rocking yourself up into his movements.

He sputters, whines, lets hot breaths loose against your neck as he cums right alongside you with the pull of your hungry heat. It’s a relief so great that it leaves him feeling boneless, like he was floating with only your body to keep him from drowning face down as his body and mind reset after cumming so hard after so long.

It’s much the same for you as well, with Higuruma acting as a weighted blanket over your body, the heat of him staving off the chill of the room as your skin cools down. He’s drifting off first, as is expected with such a tumultuous night, and you follow suit, only half thinking of the earful he’ll be getting in the morning for cumming inside of you.

#my writing #reminder minors and ageless blogs get blocked #jjk smut #higuruma x reader #higuruma x you #higuruma x y/n #x reader #reader insert #hiromi higuruma x reader #hiromi higuruma x you #higuruma hiromi x reader

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winkliee · 11 months

Note

Hiii im kinda new to this so im sorry if i mess up!

If u play genshin can u do the hantengu clones with a ganyu reader but if u doesn't can u do the hantengu clones taking a bath with nervous reader (nsfw) I'm sorry if this is too much😣😣😣😓😓😓

you are my first ask!! i am so sorry i do not play genshin though, but hopefully what i am presenting will be good. also i have never written a full smut scene so this was really difficult to write, idk if it's good 😭

Hot Springs

hantengu clones × nervous reader

warnings: smut, sub f!reader, praise kink, consensual non-con, size kink, somnophillia, overstimulation, loss of virginity, nipple pinching, cunninglus, aizetsu is whiny

you ran through the forests, clutching your sword. you were sure you sensed a demon just now. but where was he?

you looked around for the umpteenth time. nope, no one in sight.

the kakushi accompanying you caught up to you huffing. "y/n sama," he said panting, "you aren't fully healed yet. please take some rest."

"there is a demon here!!" you shouted at the poor kakushi, "how can i leave my duty and-"

"but there's no one in sight," the kakushi retorted. "please take some rest for the time being. i will personally inform you if i see anything suspicious."

you started to calm down a bit. "fine," you finally agreed.

the kakushi smiled at you with his masked face. "there's a really nice hot spring not very far from here. i have heard it has healing abilities. you should definitely try it."

you laughed a bit. you knew that some kakushis can be really weird, especially the one who had made the love hashira's uniform.

"you will be ogling at me, huh?"

the kakushi blushed furiously. "n-no ma'am," she said quickly calming down, "if you allow, i have been offered a job of helping some injured slayers down the hill. but i cannot leave you alo-"

"you may go," you said dismissing the kakushi.

"but-"

"i can survive myself, there are other people in need of you, you should leave."

the kakushi looked at you, before bowing deeply and leaving instantly.

you started to walk deeper into the forest in search of the spring. "i am sure it isn't far."

it wasn't. a mere fifteen minutes walk later, you found the hot spring, bubbling.

"well, i guess it's not too bad to relax," you thought as you started undressing.

the mist of the springs made you feel so relaxed, sleepy infact, as you were sure you would drowse off there.

but you were too lazy to even get out.

that is when you heard some voices from the other side. male voices.

you couldn't see them properly because of the mist, but you could figure out there was atleast four of them.

you grew nervous. after all, your swords and clothes were kept far from here in a safe area.

"maybe this is a mixed bath," you thought, even though you felt hot at the idea of being naked while there were other men in the spring.

"relax," you said to yourself. but as you heard the voices getting nearer, you couldn't help but try to slip away.

too late.

"look who do we have here~" you heard a voice through your daze, as anxiety filled you.

you looked up to a pair of green eyes, and...horns.

"demons?!" you screamed before a hand muffled your voice, as you looked up to see a yellow eyed demon too.

"how dare you use our private spring?!" the red eyes demon shouted at you.

you tried to retort back by saying that his name wasn't written there, but your mouth was still muffled by the other demon.

you read their kanji. uppermoon four...

you tried to free yourself from the hands of the yellow eyed demon, gripping him so hard that you were sure you heard his surprised yowl, but the blue eyed demon stopped you. "i am sad you are trying to hurt us," he said, with his worried face.

"heh sekido," the green eyed demon started, "looks like she's a demon slayer. she has extraordinary strength."

"i can see that you foo-"

"guys please stop fighting-"

"shut up!" the three other demons shouted in unison, as the blue eyed demon immediately became quiet.

in the meanwhile you had succeeded in freeing yourself from the yellow eyed demon's grip, and attempted to flee, but the red eyed demon, apparently sekido, grabbed you back and pulled you into the waters again.

"shit," you thought to yourself, "they are going to kill me. i can't even fight back because the mist of the spring has numbed my senses."

"how dare you come here and relax?!" sekido's voice growled.

"awww, poor girl, she didn't know," the green and yellow eyed demons laughed together.

please stay quiet karaku, urogi,"the blue eyed demon said. "let sekido handle this."

the demons ignored him, as karaku kept his arm on sekido's hand and said, "let's not kill her. today's mission was extremely difficult. let's have some fun?"

urogi on cue, asked the other demon, "what do you think, aizetsu?"

while they were conversing, you finally had a clear look at the four demons towering over you. their bodies were rather muscular, and they were naked, there semi-hard dicks dangling right before your eyes.

"looks like she's in too," you heard karaku laugh. "look at how she's staring at our cocks. she could almost drool."

your face reddened at their suggestion, as you tried to free yourself from their grips.

"well, well," said sekido, "you're not leaving without receiving your punishment."

you have no idea how much time has passed. your only recollection is that they dragged you through the mist, into the middle of the hot spring.

you couldn't even try to escape, the mist having numbed your senses completely. they groped your breasts, as urogi started sucking your nipples while groping your other breast. karaku on the other hand nipped your neck, covering them with multiple bruises and hickies. aizetsu took a place between your knees, massaging them, trying to calm down your increased pants, while kissing your thighs.

you grew more and more nervous as you watched sekido stand nearby watching you, his face was definitely angry, but, but he was smirking?

all those thoughts were erased from your mind when a finger prodded on your cunt. you looked down to see aizetsu staring up at you, with a questioning glance, wanting approval.

you understood you were already in this deep when you nodded.

quite immediately aizetsu started licking you up, his finger roughly entering your hole, which wasn't much moisturized.

"i-it hurts," your voice left in a whisper as you tried to concentrate on the pleasure karaku was giving your breasts.

aizetsu went on sucking your clit, as you gasped. demon slaying had never given you time to take care of yourself so you were naturally sensitive.

how would you ever have known that four demons would be doing this with you?

you stifled your moans as much as you could, but you let out a whine as you neared your climax.

"n-no more-"

you came on aizetsu's face, embarrassed that you couldn't stop yourself, but he didn't seem to mind as he went on sucking you.

you were in a state of daze, as you were overstimulated beyond you could take, when you felt someone push aizetsu away.

"move," karaku said, "it's my time to enjoy her," he said roughly entering you.

you screamed out a bit at the sudden intrusion, it was really painful after all.

"look sekido, i took her virginity," he laughed. you looked over at sekido with your half open eyes, and he looked very angry.

but you had no time to relax. karaku pounded into you constantly, as a string of moans erupted from you. you were surprised yourself by the noises you were making.

"isn't it huge?" karaku said leaning over to suck your boobs, while one hand snaked down to rub your clit. "my dick is ruining you, aww," he laughed at you pitifully.

you couldn't mutter out a word. you gripped on his biceps as the stimulation became too much for you to handle, and you came again.

"s-stop, aah"

you were almost passing out, but a gentle slap on your cheek woke you up, as you saw sekido taking karaku's place.

"no falling asleep now, little slayer," urogi said caressing your face, "sekido doesn't like that."

sekido wrapped his arms around your body, in a possessive manner. "don't you dare pass out," he growled. "this is a punishment," he said.

you were already scared, but sekido's length had your reeling. it was really hard to enter you, but once he had, your head was thrown back as you whined, scratching on his chest.

"what a naughty girl you are, enjoying your punishment," he mocked, "did you just come from me entering you? pathetic."

he started moving gently, but his speed altered and soon he was pounding into you like karaku, hell even faster than him.

you were on the brink of consciousness, and your body was tired when you came again and again.

"i want to try her next!" you heard urogi's delightful scream.

you moaned out loud when sekido hit a certain spot in you, and kept on doing that, as you came again.

"his growls, his growls sound so hot," you thought, as you closed your eyes when you came again from his ruthless pounding.

you slowly opened your eyes to see, aizetsu shallowly thrusting into you.

did you fall asleep? how are they still continuing?

aizetsu seeing you awake, smiled brightly.

"i was so scared you were hurt," he said, before whimpering, "y-you are so tight."

you looked around for the others. aizetsu, as if reading your thoughts, told, "they have left already. i am sorry they misbehaved. i will take care of you," he said, before whimpering as he came inside you.

"s-so warm," you threw your head back, your mind still reeling. aizetsu nipped at your neck, kissing so gently as you almost melted from his touch, unconsciously pulling him close and grinding on him.

god, this was a punishment to remember.

thank you for reading. likes and reblogs are appreciated.

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bakerstreethound · 9 months

Text

Angel's Tea Under a Demon's Wing

Relationship: Aziraphale x reader x Crowley (Ineffable husbands x reader)

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, hurt, comfort, soft Aziraphale, grumpy Crowley, domestic partners, deluge of rain, job insecurity, financial stress, and a brief mention of loss & death

Summary: Time is running out for you to find a job so you can stay afloat in your small London flat. In one last desperate attempt, you swallow your pride and hand out your resume around town, praying for a miracle. As luck would have it, Aziraphale is intrigued by you and offers a proposition, despite Crowley's protests.

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT claim, repost, copy or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)

Word Count: 2.0k+

A/N: Cheerio my lovelies! I come bearing a gift for you all. I hope you enjoy some more ineffable husbands and . I adore them so and we could all use some comfort after season 2. Special thanks also to @novaracer for beta reading. Comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated! Graphic by @firefly-graphics

Time had a cruel sense of humor, and it didn’t differ on any day like today, the skies trickling with rain, warning London of an impending storm. Yet, it didn’t tear you from your conquest in searching for a job.

You were sure to have found one by now, yet with the current economy, you weren’t sure how you were going to make it with the diner job you had, letting your other skills and talents be pushed aside. You couldn’t afford to do so much longer, for you ached to be out of your apartment finding purpose other than in the books you plowed through.

You adored your quiet life, but something inside you wanted more and knew you could strive for it.

That is how you found yourself with a stack of resumes in hand, sliding them into the mailboxes of local businesses, praying for a miracle you would get a response. Soon enough you dip into the coffee shop across the way from the last stop you made at a quaint bookstore that was oddly still in business.

You hadn’t mustered up the courage to peruse through the piles of books even though Maggie at the record shop insisted that her landlord and the owner of the bookshop, Mr. Fell, was sweet and meant no harm. Either way, you’d been too busy at the diner until now to consider applying for a job there. You hoped something would come around, but only a miracle could make it happen.

******

Meanwhile, Aziraphale began his morning as usual with some hot chocolate and making a record of miracles in the like when Crowley stomped in, huffing while clenching a wrinkled piece of paper.

“Awe come on, angel. Why are you doing this?” Crowley groaned.

Aziraphale swiped the wrinkled paper from Crowley’s grasp. “It’s only hospitable to offer the poor dear a job. I mean, look at their credentials!” he exclaimed as he excitedly flipped through another page as if he were reading a great myth instead of a resume.

“What’s the point? You practically have me to do all the work here for you,” Crowley mumbled, downing the rest of his wine. He stretched out on the couch again, his long lean legs draped over the arm, adding an extra bit of drama to any bit of furniture. The demon could not sit on anything properly to save his life.

Aziraphale sighed and bit his lip, eyes twinkling with mischief. “If you consider your work laying around here drinking, yes you do a fine job at that.” Crowley lifted his head, mock rage plastered over his face. “Better watch that tongue of yours angel, You know I love it so.”

“Well, then better make yourself useful and dust the books and tidy up your plants. We should expect a visitor within the hour.” Azi smiled warmly at his partner, giddiness filling his chest when Crowley pecked him on the cheek.

“I’ll get right on it, angel.”

******

You huffed, drowning down your third, or was it fifth? cup of coffee. You weren’t sure why you felt this way, the stress in your shoulders building the more you typed, your brain filling with words faster than you could write or type them down. You’d been at Nina’s shop for an hour, most of it spent scrolling through job listings, though your search also included browsing some bookstores and a new computer you have been eyeballing for months.

Alas not much had come from your ventures, but you have to admit it was a good day to get out of the flat and enjoy the fresh air and the coziness of somewhere else other than your pit of despair. You could only stay inside with yourself and your mind for so long.

Regardless, you enjoyed the quiet chatter, the drip of the machine keeping in time with your typing, and then a ping sounds from your phone. Your heart races, could this be it?

“Hello?” A soft angelic voice inquires from the other end. “I was calling about your interest in a job. You see I’m Aziraphale, Mr. Fell as most call me, I own the bookshop across from Nina’s coffee shop. The…Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death that one, it’s hard to miss. Would you be interested?”

Would I be interested? Hell yes, you would after months of finding nothing that’d pay anything for manual labor you wouldn’t imagine anything better than sorting books all day.

“Mr. Fell, that would be lovely. When do you want me to start?” You thrum your fingers on the table, not believing your luck.

“Are you available now? I have cocoa biscuits and tea!”

“I don’t think I’m in any position to refuse your offer, Mr. Fell.”

“Lovely, it’s settled then. I’ll see you within the hour, yes?” His voice is warm, reminding you of an old friend and holding hands with a friend by the lake. It made you happier than you’d been in a while and when you set your phone back on the table, glancing at the bright light streaming in through the window despite the darkening clouds of the horizon, you know you won’t refuse this job; it’s almost too good to be true.

******

“Oh boy, that doesn’t look good,” Crowley mutters, shoving piles of books into the shelves, trying to make the shop more presentable, as Azira put it. The sky outside darkened an alarming shade of gray and Crowley could practically hear the impending storm cackling in warning.

Aziraphale sighs, taking off his spectacles and rubbing his eyes. “Well, if worse comes to worst, we can stay in for the night and forgo the Ritz.”

“You? Forgo the meal at the Ritz? The world must truly be ending!” Crowley exclaims, throwing himself back on the couch right as the first clap of thunder came down, the notable pitter-patter of rainfall following in its wake.

Not a moment later, the doorbell rings, and there you are, a jacket plastered along your form, hair damp and you sneeze. “Hi, I’m here to see Mr. Fell.”

******

“Gracious come in come in, Oh do sit down, let me take that for you!” The smaller man, Aziraphale you note, bustles around, offering you an armchair, which you sit in, groaning at the warmth. The deluge came out of nowhere, soaking you to the bone during the albeit dort walk along the street, but you ended up getting distracted at Maggie’s record shop, losing track of time as fate would have it you ended up an utter wreck at the job you’d accepted a meer hour before.

“I’m so sorry for the state of my appearance, I should’ve brought an umbrella.”

“The weather is quite unpredictable is it not?” Another person appears from the shadows, encased in black, hair a lovely shade of red that makes you wish you could pull it off as well as them. They reach out their hand to you and you lean forward accepting it.

“Crowley, a pleasure to meet you. I see Aziraphale ran off before introductions.” He motions for you to stand and you do so, while he drapes his black jacket over you. It’s pleasantly warm, and you’re equally impressed with the black turtleneck and vest combination he’s currently sporting.

You smile at the gesture. “I’m sure it’s for the tea. There was mention of it on the phone call.”

“Oh, right, the infamous phone call. It practically made his day, though I insisted that he didn’t need to hire anyone, no don’t take it as a bad thing, necessarily. Nina and Maggie vouched for your character too so now you’re practically part of the block gang.”

“Crowley, are you interrogating our guest?”

You pull the borrowed jacket closer around you trying not to shiver in a combination of nerves and excitement. The easy banter between the two of them makes you feel at ease and it comforts you how relaxed they are in each other's presence. If all your days could be spent with a gentle, quiet and constant companion by your side, then you couldn’t possibly want for more.

“I am sorry for inconveniencing you.” you blurt out, Mr. Fell’s gaze meeting yours in quiet understanding.

“It’s no trouble at all, we’ve not much going on, isn’t that right, Crowley.”

“Right, whatever he said, that’s right.” the tall lanky figure grumbles, discarding a pile of books on the floor, making you wince at the thump they leave behind.

That must’ve hurt, you grumble.

“They’ll be alright” Crowley grumbles.

Whoops, you had spoken that out loud. You clench your jaw, trying in vain to relax, the nerves flowing through you, making your stomach tie itself in knots despite your mind’s protests.

“Crowley, I would appreciate it if you didn’t throw my books in that manner,” Mr Fell’s brow quirks, eyes lighting in quiet mirth as he leans over to whisper, “He does that when he’s grouchy.”

“I assume it happens frequently, then.”

“Usually when I irk him or someone else, which is at least three times a week or more.”

Crowley scowls, “It’s not that frequent!”

You smile at the easy banter between them, the way they brought you into this small sphere of their world and it makes you feel less alone than you have had in months. You enjoyed this, the glances they tossed back and forth with the ease of old lovers, twin soulmates of the universe ancient in their own right.

“Well then, I think it’s settled,” Aziraphale faces you, hands clasped, a smile gracing his lips. You burrow further into the jacket Crowley lent you from the deluge, nervous for the outcome. In the next moment, Aziraphale hands you cocoa, finalizing the matter, “I think we’ll get along just fine, my dear.”

******

Countless hours later you’re sandwiched between them on a plush couch, Aziraphale (he insisted you didn’t have to call him Mr. Fell) with a book on his lap and Crowley with a drink in his hand. You’re halfway listening to the story Aziraphale tells, still delirious and in disbelief that you scored a job and somehow gained two companions you’ve felt you have known ages. The hours passed by quicker than you imagined and you didn’t want to leave.

Months without a job and companionship have you linger in the doorway and you smile at them fondly, hating to leave but you walk back into the rain in your borrowed coat that fits your form.

You hadn’t remembered it fitting so well before, the universe worked in mysterious ways. But, you found a thread of hope, warmth, love and acceptance and you sure as hell aren’t letting go of it for anything.

Joy fills your heart as you walk out the bookshop door Crowley holds for you and Aziraphale presses a kiss to your hand, wishing you well. You don’t think you’ve been more excited for a job-or anything than you have now. No more moments you would take for granted now that you had them, a life complete and full of laughter and love.

******

Time was cruel and a fickle thing. Two figures stand on a hill under a tree, leaning into each other, what others wouldn’t see is the phantom hand resting between their palms, one of a lover past, a companion dear to them slipping into another world.

Time could be cruel, but it had given an angel and a demon a mortal companion to care for alongside each other and blessing or cursing time, one thing is for certain, they were grateful for all the moments, no matter how limited, that they got to spend with you. And they had a silly little resume and a fateful deluge of rain to thank for it.

The taller one carefully drapes a long coat around the headstone, the shorter one following suit with a bouquet of flowers. In their arms they find solace, the ghost of you a mere fragment of their millennia of existence but they would live it over and again if only to be with you.

******

#ineffable husbands x reader #crowley x reader #aziraphale x reader #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #good omens imagine #good omens s2 #gos2 #crowley x reader x aziraphale

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imagines--galore · 1 year

Note

resquest? as teenagers, peter parker and reader agree to marry if neither have by their 30th birthday.

follow peter as he attempts to sabotage every relationship reader has till then.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. Fluff. None. A/N: I live for jealous Peter Parker :3 Also Anon didn't specify which Peter Parker so I kinda went with the MCU one! Hope thats alright!!!

Since the beginning of college you and Peter had just clicked. You had been drawn towards his slightly quirky persona. Honestly, when you had met him, you thought he looked like someone had kicked his puppy.

Though when he told you the real reason behind his external aura, loosing his mentor, his aunt dying, your heart went out to him. And later when you discovered he was Spiderman and learned how a spell had caused the world to forget who he was, you were surprised he hadn't shut himself away in a dark room and wallowed in self-pity.

That's what you would've done.

Yet, despite the loss, he wanted to go on with his life, and save people as well. And that only made you admire him more. So you attached yourself to Peter. At every turn, you made it your goal to make him smile or laugh whenever you had the chance. Slowly, very slowly, he seemed to be coming out of his bubble. At least he smiled more, and you made sure he ate and slept properly. And since the both of you shared a lot of classes together, you would help him with his work when he had to go off and be Spiderman.

The pact you two made, had been a result of a date that had stood you up saying he had a test to study for, only for you to catch him, moments later, sucking faces with another girl. You had only been dating for a month or so, but still it did hurt.

Besides you always looked for a reason to get yourself and Peter a little tipsy. You would mostly stay inside your rooms, and just get into drunken shenanigans that neither of you could remember the next day. It had only happened twice now, neither of you were alcoholics.

At the time of the pact, the two of you were only slightly drunk, smiling dopely at one another, and giggling at even the smallest thing.

Your words took him by surprise as you looked at one another. You held out your hand so you two could shake on it, but he shook his head.

"Nope, this requires proof." He warbled, getting to his feet as he went in search of his phone. He almost tripped en route, over his own feet. God, you were both such lightweights.

Once he got his phone, which you later realized was actually yours, he began to record. The camera was shaky and unsteady as he pointed it at you. You sat up, putting on your most serious face. Or as serious as you could get given your tipsy state.

"I, Y/n Y/l/n, promise to marry Peter Parker, if neither of us are married by the time we're thirty."

Once done, Peter turned the camera and raised a hand in the air as if he were swearing an oath.

"I, Peter Parker, promise to marry Y/n Y/l/n, if neither of us are married by the time we're thirty."

————————–

That was nearly five years ago, and now, having graduated college and already in the second year of your job, you watched the video with a nostalgic smile playing across your lips.

The two of you looked so young, then again at 18 years of age you definitely were. And the pact. Such an adorable thing to do when you were both sure neither of you would end up with anyone.

Though, that was still the case, given how you were still single as was Peter.

Once you graduated college, the two of you had decided it would be better to move in together. It was a good decision economically, and also because neither of you wanted to meet new people and open your respective can of worms.

Peter had no desire to share his secret with anyone else, and you had readily agreed to his suggestion on moving in. Though your motive had been slightly selfish, given the knowledge of anyone else knowing about Peter being Spiderman caused a little green monster to rear it's ugly head in your heart.

As you waited for Peter to get back home, you couldn't help but wander why none of your college relationships had worked out. And neither had Peter's for that matter.

Your mind drifted to your encounter with a coworker. You had had a few good moments where you flirted with him over a couple of weeks, and it had the potential to turn into something. But the day after you told Peter about it, you had gone to the office, only to be confronted by your would-be boyfriend.

He showed you a chain of texts, claiming you were off-limits and that you already had a boyfriend. You were confused at first, but then you recognized the number from which the messages had been sent, and you felt the color drain from your face. You had apologized to your co-worker, explaining it was your roommate's idea of a joke, but he seemed to think otherwise.

You had spent a long part of your work day simply thinking.

And now that you made an effort to think, you began to recall how every boy you had shown an interest in would suddenly start to distance themselves from you. It was college, so you figured no one wanted anything serious. But as the months went on and no boy seemed to take you seriously you had given up.

Maybe they all had someone threatening them as well?

Had Peter scared all those boys off? But why? Maybe he thought they weren't good enough for her?

Then again, the girls he had gone out with had all been wrong for him. Every last one of them. You ground your teeth as you thought about them, a frown creasing your forehead as you began to fix yourself a sandwich.

Whatever it was, you planned to confront Peter once he came back from patrol.

————————–

You had only begun to spread your favorite condiment on the piece of bread, when you heard the sound of something, or rather someone landing on the roof. Your apartment was on the top floor, so that Peter could easily enter through the skylight, which he now did, dropping into the middle of the living room in view of the adjacent kitchen.

"Sandwich?" You asked without missing a beat as he removed his mask. He gave a sound of affirmation before walking towards the fridge to grab a water bottle. Once he had chugged the entire thing, he turned his attention towards you.

"I think I may have caused a couple to get engaged today." He said, looking through the cupboards as he hunted for something to snack on. You let out a small laugh. "And how did you make that happen?" You asked, starting to make a sandwich for him as well.

"Well I was chasing this pick-pocket and I found the ring he had stolen from the guy's pocket. I took it back and handed it to him in front of his girlfriend. I mean yeah she said yes and everything, but the guy was a little disappointed. Said he had a whole thing planned." You gave a small laugh. "Yeah but think about the story they'll tell people. That Spiderman brought her ring to her. Can't top that."

Done making his sandwich, you nudged the plate towards him as you moved to sit on the small dining table. It only had two chairs since you rarely had guests over. He took the other chair, and began to eat before he had even sat down.

"Peter? Remember that co-worker I was telling you about?" You asked, glancing up at him to gauge his reaction. He paused in between his bite, before shrugging.

"Vaguely." Oh he was lying, you could tell.

"Yeah he came to me today and showed me these texts. And they said that I already have a boyfriend when I clearly don't." You set down your sandwich to look at him. He began to fidget in his seat, a telltale sign that he was nervous. "And the funny thing was they all came from a very very familiar phone number." You fixed him with a look. "And I wandered if you knew anything about that."

You weren't angry, more confused as to why Peter would do that. He stared at you, lips parted. "Y-you honestly haven't figured out why I did it?" He asked, his tone disbelieving as he too stopped eating his sandwich. You shrugged. "Its the reason I'm asking isn't it?"

Peter pursed his lips before speaking. "Its because of the same reason you don't let a girl speak more then ten words to me." You frowned. "Girls talk to you plenty Peter." You said with a roll of your eyes, leaning back against the back of your chair as you did. "And what reason? Honestly you're not making any sense."

Peter blinked. "You honestly don't know?" You shrugged again and shook your head.

A long stretch of silence followed, in which the two of you continued to stare at one another. Though Peter's gaze was much more intense then you had ever seen. And despite your best efforts, you could feel the heat of a blush creeping along your skin.

A sound of a chair scraping against the floor, followed by two determined strides which brought Peter directly in front of you. With one hand on the table, and the other tenderly holding your chin with the finger and thumb, Peter leaned down to kiss you.

Your breath hitched, your heart raced, your brain turned to mush, your eyes widened, your body stiffened and your blood ran hot.

Just as quickly as the kiss had begun it ended, with Peter leaning back and smiling at you. "That's why." With a brief brush of his thumb against your lower lip he was gone, leaving you with a racing heart, conflicting emotions and a realization.

————————–

A little while later you stood in front of his bedroom door, contemplating on whether you should knock or not.

Though that decision was lost to you once the door opened and there stood Peter. He paused at the threshold, probably not expecting you there.

The two of you were silent as you stared at one another. Suddenly you were looking at him in a new light. A light where every action every word and every gesture he had done in the past had had an underlying meaning behind it.

"Is there something there? Peter?" You asked, sounding a little unsure. He looked just as uncertain as you felt as he gave a small nod.

"There can be. If you want there to be." He added, leaving the entire decision up to you. Your heart raced and you gripped your hands. A shuddering breath fell from your lips before you closed your eyes. Gathering every ounce of strength that you had, you opened your eyes to meet his hopeful gaze.

"I do want something to be......there." His answering smile was wide and bright as he yanked you into a hug. You returned it with just as much emotion, burying your face in his neck and just inhaling his familiar scent.

"Though it might mean we'll have to honor the pact we made, since I won't ever be letting you go." You said against his skin, prompting him to laugh.

"There is no other place I'd rather be then by your side, Y/n." His words caused a pleased smile and a bright blush to stain your cheeks as you pulled back to give his chest a small smack.

"Don't go turning into a sap for me Peter."

"What? I'm not allowed to voice my undying devotion to you?"

"No! Peter just no!"

"I have defended your honor for so long, My Lady! And I shall die defending it."

"Get a grip Parker!"

"You wound me, Beloved."

"Stop it!"

He laughed as he foiled your attempt at escaping by wrapping an arm around your waist, and with a hand behind your head, he allowed your lips to align with his.

"Never!" He whispered, his breath hot against your sensitive lips. Your only reply was to close the distance left between the two of you, sealing your pact once again.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #mcu #mcu peter parker #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n

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onlygrapejuice · 1 year

Note

I just saw the lil blurb you made of harry kissing his baby boy and omg, im in love! could you write something of harry and reader with the baby backstage after one of his shows? you could make it really about anything, but i love the idea of harry getting off stage and having his baby waiting for him </3

A/N: I had so much fun writing this, I hope you enjoy reading it. Thank you for the request and it's what you were thinking of <3! (And thank you for your support)

Warnings: None, just fluff :)

Wordcount: 1889

You’ll never get over the screaming. The sheer amount of noise that erupts as Harry takes the stage is mind-blowing, no matter how many times you’ve experienced it. You understand it, of course, if you had the chance, you'd be out there screaming with them. But you had precious cargo with you this time and it was a little safer here in the wings of the stage. Your baby boy is bundled in your arms, fast asleep thanks to the industrial-level ear muffs Harry had searched half the country for, terrified of any noise hurting his bub. You’d told him that you could always stay in the hotel with him if he was so worried about the noise, you didn’t mind. You’ve seen him perform hundreds of times, you could miss a few concerts this time round. But Harry had been adamant that he wanted his boy nearby (and you too of course, that goes without saying) and that was that. You hadn’t been to any of the shows of his current tour yet, too busy looking after a close to one-and-half-year-old to stay up late and party. You had been still travelling around with him, enjoying every new city with bub and always managing to have at least one full day with Harry per city. He hadn't planned to go on tour so soon after having a child, but after you decided to quit your job and just focus on your son, he decided to just go for it. You might not get the chance again, as eventually, bub would have to stay put to get an education and a semi-normal childhood, no matter what his rockstar dad was doing. You’d first decided that when you got pregnant and you were both going to be sticking to it, tours and music careers be damned. And sure, touring with a baby wasn't easy at times, but all three of you seemed happier than ever, despite the chaos that constantly surrounded you.

Harry was currently leaping around the stage, revelling in the attention all focused on him as the crowd sang along loudly. You tried not to laugh at his antics, swaying slightly to let your bub keep napping undisturbed. You were surprised he was staying asleep, the vibrations from the music booming from the speakers and the crowd jumping was making the stage tremble slightly but he just stayed comfortably asleep in your arms. While he may look like a carbon copy of his father, dimples, curls and all, he had inherited the ability to sleep through anything from you.

You let your gaze scan across the crowd for a moment, a bright smile on your face at the sea of colour before you. Cowboy hats and feather boas dotted the crowd and you could practically feel the adrenaline in the air. Harry’s concerts were always filled with so much colour and life and it delighted you (and him) endlessly. You cooed down at the sleeping bundle in your arms. “One day you’ll get to see all this properly and I’m sure you’ll love it just as much as your dad does.”

Someone had brought you a chair at some point, and you were still settled in it, bub awake now and toying with a strand of your hair, eyes wide in fascination. He’d stayed asleep for the majority of the concert, even when his dad teased Best Song Ever and the crowd lost their minds, holding tight to your index finger while you quietly sang along. You’d moved him when he woke so he could see the stage, and he gurgled happily when he spotted his dad crooning Treat People With Kindness to the rapt crowd. Jeff had laughed fondly from where he stood nearby and he took a photo for Harry to coo over later and almost definitely set as his phone wallpaper until someone took a cuter one.

You listened to the last moments of Kiwi with a tired smile, the knowledge that soon Harry would be all yours again making your heart sing. You loved his music and performances dearly, but sometimes it’s nice to have him to yourself instead of sharing him with thousands of adoring fans. The song finished with a crescendo and bub squirmed happily in your arms as he spotted Harry coming over to you as you stood up to greet him. His face broke into an even brighter smile when he saw the pair of you waiting for him. He pressed a smacking kiss on your cheek in greeting before ducking to coo at the giggling baby in your arms. “Did y’enjoy the show, bub? I know I did and I’m sure your mama did too.” He glanced up at you, and you laughed quietly at the hopeful, slightly anxious look on his slightly sweaty face. “I did like I always do.” He looked relieved at that, pressing a quick kiss to the top of bubs head, slipping off his earmuffs and standing up straight again. He turned you gently, hand resting on your lower back as he began to guide you away to the waiting car, thumb rubbing gently at your back. “Let's get y’to bed, bub.” He glanced at you as he guided you round the corner and down a brightly lit corridor towards the exit, holding back a smile as you battled with a yawn. You used to be able to easily stay awake and not even feel tired after one of his shows but having a baby understandably ruined your sleep schedule and ability to stay up past 10. “And also get you to bed, huh mama?” He nudged you gently with his shoulder when you didn't respond, smiling softly when you blinked, brain swimming with exhaustion. “What’d you say?” Harry laughed at that, holding the door open for you as you stepped out, the car waiting for you, engine humming softly. “I was saying that you probably need to get to bed as well, love.” You nodded tiredly as the cold night air hit you, yawning softly. “I’d say so, I don't think I’ve stayed up this late since before this one was born.”

The car ride was a blur and you were half-asleep through most of it, jerking every few minutes when you started to drift off. Bub had immediately fallen asleep next to you in his car seat and you were sorely tempted to join him despite the uncomfortable position but you knew if you fell asleep now you'd never leave the car. Harry was in the front seat, quietly chatting to the driver throughout it all, eyes flicking up to meet yours every now and then in the rear-view mirror with a fond smile.

Harry insisted on carrying him up to your hotel room when you arrived, urging that you needed a break. Too tired to argue, you simply followed sluggishly behind as Harry lead the way, cooing to the sleepy bundle in his arms with complete devotion. You all reached your room blissfully fast and Harry quickly settled him into the cot set up in the corner while you sank onto the bed, leaning over to struggle with your shoes. Your sluggish fingers slipped over the carefully tied bows in your Converse laces and you tried not to growl in frustration, blinking furiously as you finally tugged at a loose end. But before you could continue, Harry was kneeling before you, quickly unlacing your shoes and tugging them off gently. “Don’t stress mama, I’ve got you.” You grumbled quietly as he slid his hands gently up your legs to rest them on your hips, shifting forward slightly to kneel between your legs. “I should be looking after you. You were the one entertaining thousands of people.” He laughed softly at that, conscious of the sleeping baby only a few feet behind him. “You’re the one dead on your feet.” You whined a quiet protest at that and Harry leant forward with a cheeky grin on his face, shushing you gently as he stopped to rest his forehead on yours. “I liked having y’and bub there tonight.” You smiled softly, shutting your eyes as his thumbs brushed gently over your hips. “It was nice knowing that I’d get to see y’both straight afterwards.” He twisted his head to press a tender kiss to your temple, your eyelids fluttering at the contact. “My little family… right there with me.” You smiled at that, flicking your eyes open to meet his green ones. “Always. Even if it’s not in person.” He smiled sweetly and pulled away with a quiet groan, rising to his feet rather stiffly. “I’m getting a little old for that I think.” You snorted at that and he scowled at you, swatting at your arm before gently tugging your (his) T-shirt up your arms and off. “Let's get you to bed before my old bones get too stiff.” You giggled properly at that and he pulled you up with a broad grin, pressing a kiss to your now-revealed shoulder before reaching down to unbutton your jeans and pluck them off you, your bra soon following. He passed you a spare t-shirt and pair of boxer briefs for you to sleep in before beginning to get ready himself, the adrenaline rush slowly wearing thin, exhaustion beginning to claw at his bones.

You were nearly done with brushing your teeth and cleaning your makeup off when he slipped into the bathroom behind you, shooting you a wink in the mirror as he began to brush his teeth. It made your sleepy heart flutter at the domesticity of it all. Even in a city far from home, in a bathroom that was fairly unfamiliar to you, this felt like home. The shared devotion to the sleeping baby in the cot next door, the late-night teasing, the shared night-time routine. It all felt like home and you knew it made the tour all the more endurable for Harry.

You were both settled in bed when you finally chatted again, your head settled on his chest while you curled into his side, a warm, broad arm wrapped around you. “I’ll miss this.” His chest rumbled from the words under your cheek and you blinked sleepily. “You’ll miss… touring? You always do.” He ducked his chin down to gaze at you. “I’ll definitely miss touring but I’ll miss having you and bub here all the time more. Because by the time I do this again, he’ll probably be starting in school and I don't think missing weeks and weeks to see me touring will count as a ‘normal’ childhood.” You hummed in agreement, eyes blinking sleepily as you shifted to rest your chin on his sternum, letting you see his face. He looked conflicted at the thought of his baby starting school and growing up and you raised an arm, running soft fingers down his cheek. “Let’s enjoy this while it lasts, okay? I’m sure we can figure something else out when he’s older. But let's not worry about that now, he’s not even two yet. And he slept through most of the show, so chances are he might not even want to watch when he gets older.” Harry chuckled at that, running a hand through your messy hair. “Ouch. Betrayed by my own son!”

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #x reader #harry styles imagine

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leilani-lily · 3 months

Text

~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 1)

... So this idea for an Alastor x reader (kinda?) story popped in my brain, and has refused to leave me no matter how hard I try.

Have I written fanfiction recently? Hell no.

Do I even know how to write for an AroAce character? No but I'm gonna do my damndest to represent him properly (and also relying on outer sources so I'm not offending anyone).

Do I feel like a complete fool for being sucked back into the fanfiction world and re-entering with a freakin Hazbin Hotel fic? ABSOOOO-FREAKIN-LUTELY.

But here we are. The writing gods have spoken. And they have declared that I write this story out so my poor brain can focus on other things like work.

Figured I'd share so it's just not on my computer all lonely. Will be a slow burn so fair warning. Let's be real, the deer boi needs love. But not overly romantic love. Just, someone he ends up really caring about and becoming his favourite.

SYNOPSIS: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. The hotel is looking to hire a chef to prepare meals for the staff/guests. Somehow you're hired and you begin your new life. And somehow end up becoming close to a certain Radio Demon. Word Count: 1.8 K

Chapter 1 under the cut. Enjoy I guess? ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ok, deep breaths y/n. Remember to smile.

You felt your lips curl up into a strained grin as if to fight off the nerves in your chest, your grip tightening on the flyer in your fist. This could go either two ways. One, you get the job and are able to live a life of somewhat normality. Or two, you get hung from the tippy top of the building by your own intestines. With your legs chopped off. And one of your arms sticking out of your ass.

Gotta love Hell and it’s creative subjects.

You shake your head out of those terrible thoughts, surely it wouldn’t be that bad?? When you saw the original broadcast on the 666 News, you couldn’t stop thinking how nice the Princess of Hell actually was. And building an entire hotel to help her subjects reform into something better was, perhaps a little optimistic in your opinion, but it made you admire her gumption and her love for her subjects.

So later when you found the flyer in search of a chef at the very same establishment the princess was hoping to fill… well, it somehow managed to get you all the way here. Standing at the doorsteps of the very lonely looking hotel on the hill.

You had to admit it wasn’t the look you had imagined, but hey, this was Hell. You had seen worse. And everyone has to start somewhere. Including yourself, arm still poised ready to knock yet not yet making the motion.

You felt so stupid, you had been standing here for almost 10 minutes now just trying to get the courage to enter the damn building. You sigh to yourself and shake out the jitters. Alright, let’s just do this. Once again, you smile, puff out your chest and raise your arm high in the air, ready to strike with a newfound courage.

“Well folks, looks like the little lady is finally ready to take the leap! Will she follow through with her actions? Or will she choke and back out of the fight? Let’s tune in and find out~”

You felt your heart nearly leap out of your chest as you whip your head around to look behind you. A tall demon clad in red and ruby eyes stood behind you, a wickedly wide grin filling his face as he points what appears to be a microphone in your direction. You stare at it dumbly, then make eye contact with him again. He remains poised, half lidded eyes seeming to hold a sparkle of impish joy. His eyes flicker from you, to your raised arm, and back to you. After a embarrassingly long time of connecting the dots, you finally extend your arm closer to the door, never breaking focus on the demon behind you (you can't help but notice he raises his microphone even closer to you), and give the door a good solid knock.

“AND SHE’S DONE IT FOLKS, what a display!!” He pulls the microphone back to himself, as you continue to stare dumbfounded “The form, the elegance, it could almost make a grown Imp cry. Let's give her a hand people.” He begins to clap as a roar of applause plays from… somewhere.

You couldn’t tell if this guy was being sarcastic or genuine, but the whole absurdity of it all, plus the bundle of nerves you were feeling earlier, seemed to bubble up inside of you and you couldn't help a little snort escape. The red demon’s grin widened as he ceases his clapping, stepping closer to you as you continue to giggle.

“Ahhh now isn’t that better. A much nicer smile than the one you were faking earlier. Besides, there’s no need to be so shy my dear. This hotel is always happy to accept wayward demons looking for reformation!”

Upon hearing his words, you turn to face him and put your hands up “Oh nono, I’m not here to-”

“Ohoho~! and what’s this you have here?” Before you can finish your sentence, the tall demon ripped the flyer out of your hand and inspected it quickly, before turning back to you. His half-lidded gaze was now round with surprise, his grin becoming even wider (which you didn’t even think was possible).

“So THAT explains the nerves from before! And here I was just thinking you were a timid little thing. But a business woman! Now that I can admire.” He smiles at you almost impressed and leans in closer, your noses almost touching.

“Tell me my dear, can you make a good jambalaya? Or perhaps a hearty gumbo with cornbread on the side~?”

You were so flustered with the speed of everything happening (plus the close proximity of this demon you had just met certainly didn’t help). All you could manage was a jumbled “Uhh, well yes I-!”

“WONDERFULLLL~!" He straightens up again and you sigh with relief. “I’ll be sure to test you on such skills. But for now we should-”

The front doors of the hotel suddenly burst open and a short gray female stands before you, with long silvery hair and an eyepatch. She looks at you for a moment, before turning her gaze at the red demon and giving him a scowl.

“Alastor, what the HELL took you so long, you should’ve been back ages ago. And quit creeping out new potential clients.” Her gaze adverts back to you, expression softening ever so slightly, “Seriously, if he’s bothering you-” “Oh Vaggie my dear, no need to be so hostile. I was simply going over business with our newest chef!” he brings his long fingers up behind your shoulder and pulls you in close against his chest, making you yelp a moment before regaining composure. You could sense this so-called 'Vaggie' demon tense, eyes flickering between the two of you. You felt as if your brain was sputtering to catch up with the current conversation (he WORKS here??!) before finally realizing what he had just called you. You sneak a look at him, and he gives you a quick wink before focusing back on the female before him.

“Now be a doll and have Nifty tidy up one of the rooms, preferably one of a reasonable size and close to the kitchen. And call upon Charlie as well, she’ll DEFINITELY want to meet our newest addition!”

The female in front of you shot a glare at Alastor (you quickly noted these two did not seem to get along), but then flicked her gaze back at you. After a moment, she sighed and turned back into the building as she followed the male demon’s orders. You couldn’t help but notice how Alastor’s grip on you tightened ever so slightly as a chuckle escaped his lips, static humming ever so louder in amusement. He himself began to walk into the hotel, guiding you along with him.

"Now then. We’ll have to introduce you to everyone, as well as get you to fill in the proper paperwork, give you a proper tour of the place and-!”

“Wait wait,” you stop walking, causing him to halt. You notice a slight twitch in his eye and his hand squeezes you for a moment. He doesn’t like to be interrupted, duly noted. You take a breath.

“Sorry, uh for interrupting” That seemed to please him. “But does this mean… I got the job?? You don’t need a resume or a test or…?”

Alastor let out a guffaw of amusement “Why of course my dear! As long as you remain true to your word of being able to cook a good New Orleans dish, that’s all the proof I’ll need! There hasn’t been many a demon coming here interested in the job, so I say your timing couldn’t be more perfect!”

Well that was the easiest damn interview you’ve ever done. You felt yourself exhale a sigh of relief as you smile up to the tall demon.

“Wow, that’s… that’s amazing, thank you so much.” He gave you a half lidded smirk, clearly enjoying being praised “So… does this make you my boss, Mr…?”

You heard the sound of a record screech as his eyes widened in surprise. Hand finally leaving your shoulder and placing it on his own chest he began to laugh heartilly, a laugh track playing in the background. You stood there confused for a moment before he finally responded.

“Ohhh my goodness me, my mother would be rolling in her grave if she ever heard about this. How rude of me to be so forward without properly introducing myself!” One minute he was standing right beside you, and then the next he had sunken like a shadow into the floor, only to appear in front of you a few steps ahead. With grace and suave you didn’t realize he possessed, he gave a small hand flourish before bowing in front of you.

“I am Alastor, also known as the Radio Demon. I happen to be the Hotel’s Facility Manager, but you’ll find Miss Morningstar is the real ringleader around here,” You notice the corner of his lip twitch at that last remark, but you pay no mind to it. “If you ever have any questions or concerns, do not hesitate to reach out to me.” You smile and dip yourself in your own little curtsy as he straightens up.

“My name is y/n, and I’ll be sure to do my best to serve you and this hotel, sir.” Alastor seemed to hum with approval as he looks down at you. “I guess I just have one more question for you, if that’s alright.”

“Why of course dear y/n, whatever would it be?”

“Well, I uh…” You feel yourself becoming flustered at the question, and the radio demon seemed to notice. Cocking a head to the side, he takes a step forward, opening his arms into a friendly gesture.

“Come now dearest, you can ask me anything! If we’re going to be working together, we have to be honest with each other~” You look up at him and sigh, knowing he was right. With a gulp you straighten your back and wear a serious expression.

“How long did you see me standing by the door?”

Alastors face didn’t waver, it was hard to tell what was going on in his mind. Then his smile grew into what looked like an amused, smug expression before answering.

“The whole time.”

You groaned and felt your head slap against your hand, making Alastor burst into laughter yet again at your expense. He was there watching the entire time?? Satan’s Ass you felt like such an idiot. Was he waiting for you to move so he could get in the building?? The more you thought about it the more you wanted to sink into the floor and die, for a 2nd time. The radio demon wiped a stray tear from his eye.

“Ohhhh y/n, what a riot you are. I can already tell that this is going to be fun~”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

First chapter hoorayyy ♡〜٩( ˃▿˂ )۶〜♡ Not sure how often I'll be updating, hopefully soon as I'm currently inspired. Thanks for reading thus far!FIRST (You're here!) PREVIOUS (Doesn't exist ( • ᴗ - ) ✧) NEXT

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #oh deer #leilani-lily

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sorceresssundries · 2 months

Text

REVIVIFY - CHAPTER 1

Gale/Tav - 2577 words

AO3 LINK

Summary:

“He was right in front of you!” Gale’s breathing is heavy. “You could have killed him easily, and yet you...” He grips your arms and stares you down. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to witness that?” You thought you could hear a slight crack in his voice. “You were reckless and foolish and not the level-headed leader I expected you to be.

You lurch upwards and gasp, choking on the air rushing into your lungs. There is an instant of crushing panic, and then just as quickly, peace. Normality. As your breathing steadies, you look around. Your companions are gathered around where you are now sitting up, but the face you're searching for is not among them. You see a flash of a purple robe disappearing behind a tent flap.

“Erm, he’ll be back, I'm sure!” Karlach is looking at you with relief, though there is still a slight worry in her eyes. “I know Withers is some ancient, crazy deity or something, but I still doubted he would be able to do it!” She looks at him a little sheepishly. “Good job, mate! She still looks a bit pale, though. Did you do it right?”

Withers responds with a stern look and then takes his leave.

“Charming,” she turns her golden eyes back to you. “Are you feeling okay?”

You are still trying to process, to remember what happened. Your head aches, and your lungs are sore from the sudden fullness of air. You settle your hand on your chest as things begin to clear up.

“Battle axe to the chest, darling. Unpleasant way to go.” Astarian is sitting on a tree trunk not far away, looking over a recently looted dagger and not seeming concerned in the slightest. “Such a waste of perfectly good blood. It was quite a spectacle, though. And despite your best intentions of getting us all killed, it didn’t take long after you snuffed it for us to finish the job.”

Shadowheart rolls her eyes at him. “Yes, Astarion, what a hero you are. Nothing to do with Gale going full wizard barbarian.”

Memories are starting to pool back into your recently revived mind. You were at the Goblin Camp. You had one more leader to take out, Dror Ragzlin. Weak and spent from your fight with Minthara, you remember having enough energy to conjure one more spell. The hulking Goblin was in front of you; one blast of flame hands and he would be down. But something caught your eye. Gale. He was battling two goblins, firing off magic missiles but not seeing the one rushing behind him. It wasn’t even a decision really; you don’t remember even thinking. You sacrificed the killing blow and fired protective energy at Gale. It was enough; he shimmered gold and had enough protection to withstand the approaching Goblin. You remember a brief hum of relief and then excruciating pain. Then nothing.

“It was quite hot, actually,” Astarion hops down off the tree stump. “I didn’t think our wizard had it in him, but seeing him lose his temper makes me reconsider my thoughts of him being a big old bore.” He looks pensive for a moment. “Do you think he’d let me bite him?”

“Astarion!” Shadowheart chides. “Now is not the time. I think Gale would probably have a stake at the ready if you went anywhere near him right now.” She draws her focus back to you. “After you fell, Gale pretty much finished off the Goblins single-handedly. He sent a bolt of lightning straight through Ragzlin’s skull.”

You feel shame redden your face. Planning this attack had been your responsibility. You should have insisted everyone took time to rest properly before the final battle. You were impatient and reckless and wanted it over. The ghost of the axe wound rips at your chest. You know it isn’t real, but the pain has split you apart. It aches.

“Where is Lae’zel?” You look around for your Githyanki comrade, surprised she hasn’t chided you yet for your failure in battle.

“Hunting, I think. She helped us carry you back. Be warned, she’s said she’s going to go through intensive battle training with you to ‘improve your incompetence,’ her words not mine.” Shadowheart holds her hands up defensively.

Karlach shifts a little uncomfortably. “And, erm, Gale is just in his tent. Resting probably. I’d go check in on him if I were you.”

You stand shakily and look at your friends with gratitude. “I’m sorry. We’ll plan things out better next time.”

“Well, I'd hope so, darling.” Astarion chides. “All this heroic nonsense is bad enough as it is, without the shame of getting our arses kicked by a bunch of goblins.” He puts his hand on your shoulder as he walks past, and the others look at you sheepishly as they go back about their business. They busy themselves sorting out loot from the Goblin Camp and preparing things for dinner.

“Gale?” Your voice sounds small as you stand outside his tent. You hear the sound of a book being closed, but he does not respond. “Please, can I talk with you? I owe you an apology and some thanks.”

The flap opens, and he stands in front of you, grabbing your arm roughly and pulling you into his tent. The air is heated with fury. “I don’t want thanks or an apology.” His usual soft brown eyes appear darker than usual. “What I would like is a companion who isn’t going to get themselves cleaved in half with a battle axe due to pure stupidity.”

You never cope very well with being told off, and the shame and smallness you feel start to subside in reaction to being reprimanded by this arrogant wizard. “He was right in front of you!” Gale’s breathing is heavy. “You could have killed him easily, and yet you...” He grips your arms and stares you down. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to witness that?” You thought you could hear a slight crack in his voice. “You were reckless and foolish and not the level-headed leader I expected you to be”

You pull out of his grasp and glare at him. “I didn’t ask for leadership. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for the responsibility and exhaustion and burden.” You feel yourself blazing to match his heat. “Maybe if you’d paid more attention to what was around you, I wouldn’t have had to spend the last of my energy protecting you.”

“Why were you protecting me?” His voice is raised now, and surely the whole camp can hear their arguing. “You were right next to him! Why were you focused on what I was doing? I thought after everything that’s happened so far, you’d have a little more faith in my preternatural abilities. You behaved like a reckless martyr.”

“And you’re behaving like an ARSE,” you snap before turning on your heels and storming out of the tent. It’s frustrating that you don’t have Gale’s cutting use of vocabulary, but you feel as though you made your point.

You stride straight past your campmates, all who look a bit awkward, apart from Astarion who seems positively gleeful. “What a lovely bit of drama we’re all witnessing. It really does get the blood racing, so to speak.”

You hear a thud and an “Ow!” as you leave them behind, and imagine Karlach has probably given him a well-deserved thump. Good.

You approach the edge of the water and sit down. Thoughts are racing and blood is pumping. How dare he! Talking to you like a child. As though you had wanted to get your chest split open. The memory makes you shudder again, and the imaginary wound burns, taking your breath away. You need to calm and ground yourself. You are back, you are alive, you are fine.

You draw a circle in the earth and rough sketches of sacred runes around the outside. You take off your armour and kneel in the centre of the circle in your undershirt, head bowed and palms placed upon the earth.

When Gale had taught you magic and pulled upon the weave, he had conjured it out of the air, as though some celestial force was moving around you and drawing you together. The magic was ethereal, divine. Your druidic magic was different. You drew the feeling of peace and harmony from the earth, grounding yourself and connecting with the cool soil beneath you. If you focused hard enough, you could hear the world breathe around you, as though it was a living soul with a heartbeat beneath your fingertips. You were connected to all living things. Your breaths flow with the wind sweeping across your face, and as you focus on your peace, small white flowers begin to bloom around the edge of your circle. You feel them caress your fingertips as you meditate.

You’re unsure of how long you stay there, drawing upon the earth for comfort and guidance, but when you open your eyes, dusk has set in and the air has grown cool around you, causing your skin to tingle. You give your thanks and pick up your armour, admiring the flowers which have bloomed around you. You decide to walk barefoot back to your tent in your shirt; druids do not care so much about ‘appropriate dress.’ You just want to enjoy the feeling of the soil beneath your feet as you make your journey to bed. Feeling much more relaxed and grounded than earlier. You have been brought back to the earth, and you will be much more careful in the future not to be pulled from it again.

As you slip into your tent, you think of Gale. His tent is not far from yours, which you are now beginning to regret. You remember the evening you spent with him as he summoned the weave and shared a moment of magic with you, how the thought of kissing him caused him to blush and stumble over his words. The contrast between his softness then, and his harshness earlier is dizzying. Your heart sinks at the thought of your connection fading. Slipping away into the night. It had been a shared moment of rapture, and the ghost wound in your chest blazes at the thought it may have been the only one you would ever share.

As you sleep, darkness creeps into your cluttered mind. The void you had been pulled into by the goblin leader swirls its way into your thoughts, inciting nightmarish visions while you sleep. The axe. The pain. The nothingness. The cold steel wrenched you apart, splitting your ribs and cascading your blood on the ground. Gale had watched it happen. Gale. You remember the relief and warmth as you saw him protected, and your dreams start to taunt you. What if you hadn’t seen him? What if your positions had been reversed? Next time you could be the one watching him, his body breaking in front of you, life slipping from his eyes. “No,” you plead to the darkness in your head. “No, I won’t let that happen. Not to Gale.” There is a mocking laugh, and an inevitability pressing against you. He’ll get hurt one day. From a spell, or an axe, or the devastating orb that resides within him. You feel sick, and then you’re awake.

“Tav” Once again, you are pulled out of darkness. This time from the horrors in your subconscious, and not the peaceful calm of death. You’re sweaty and breathless, and you can’t tell if the moisture on your face is from sweat or tears. You have an awful feeling it’s both. You feel a cooling touch on your forehead. Gale. He’s hovering over you, concern etched across his gentle face. You feel fresh tears spill. “It’s okay, you’re safe, I’m here.” He pulls you against him, wrapping his arms around you. You stay like this for a little while until your breathing slows to mimic his, his hand gently stroking your head. You feel him press a light kiss against your hair, and you pull back to look at him.

“I had a nightmare,” you say, as though it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world.

“I know,” he sits back, taking you in. “You were so distressed.” You can hear the worry in his voice, the sentiment is echoed in the warm softness of his eyes.

“I’m okay now,” you say, not sure which one of you you’re trying to convince. Your hand goes to your chest, pressing the area where the axe struck you. Gale watches intently.

“I’m so sorry, Tav. I was angry. I watched you… I saw…” His breath hitches as he tries to speak. It’s not like him to struggle to string a sentence together.

You take one of his hands and place it on your chest, over your heartbeat. “I’m here. I’m okay. I’m alive and safe. I’m here with you.”

“You said my name, in your sleep. You were crying and you said my name. Was it because of the way I spoke to you, because of what I said?” His hand moved from your chest to cup your face. His thumb stroked your cheek, and you felt your heart race.

“No. I just...” You struggle with what to say next. How do you say it? How do you tell him that the thought of losing him is more terrifying than being struck down with an axe? “I was reliving what happened. You were there. I was scared, that’s all.” You don’t look him in the eyes as you keep the truth close to your chest. “I don’t think I have anything to worry about really; from the sounds of it, you can take on hordes of enemies by yourself from now on.” You flick your eyes up to meet his, and he blushes a little.

“Ah, yes, well, I must admit I did let my emotions get the better of me.” He moves his hand from your face and back into his lap, folding himself so he’s now sat cross-legged in front of you. “I don’t need to tell you how powerful and uncontrollable magic can be, and if I'm out of harmony with the weave, it can lead to disastrous torrents of magic. We were lucky, I think, that it was channelled into the destruction of those foul creatures. But care must be taken, even in the most… emotional… of circumstances. I could have put our little team in terrible danger.” His hand subconsciously moved to his own chest, touching the swirling orb branded into his beautiful skin.

“Well, on the plus side, I think it turned Astarion on,” you laugh lightly at the thought. “You may have found yourself a new admirer. Be careful though; he bites.”

Gale laughs, and the sound soothes you like a balm. “Not really my type, but I'll be aware of any effect I may have on him from now on.” He smirks at you, and you feel relief wash over you. Gale was easy, comforting company. You’re glad he came to help. The thought of him leaving you to the darkness again makes you uneasy.

“Gale,” you shift a little awkwardly, and he takes you in, tilting his head slightly. “Would you mind bunking with me tonight? I think I could use a bit of company.” You feel embarrassed at the request, but he grins at you.

“Of course, anything I can do for you, consider it most enthusiastically done. Let me just go and get my bedroll.”

You sleep soundly for the rest of the night; any worry of losing your connection with Gale drifts into the ether. Your hands are entwined together across the floor, and your dreams are much, much sweeter.

#bg3 fanfiction #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fic #baldurs gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale x tav #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #baldurs gate gale

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kremlin · 8 months

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How DOES the C preprocessor create two generations of completely asinine programmers??

oh man hahah oh maaan. ok, this won't be very approachable.

i don't recall what point i was trying to make with the whole "two generations" part but ill take this opportunity to justifiably hate on the preprocessor, holy fuck the amount of damage it has caused on software is immeasurable, if you ever thought computer programmers were smart people on principle...

the cpp:

there are like forty preprocessor directives, and they all inject a truly mind-boggling amount of vicious design problems and have done so for longer than ive been alive. there really only ever needed to be one: #include , if only to save you the trouble of manually having to copy header files in full & paste them at the top of your code. and christ almighty, we couldn't even get that right. C (c89) has way, waaaay fewer keywords than any other language. theres like 30, and half of those aren't ever used, have no meaning or impact in the 21st century (shit like "register" and "auto"). and C programmers still fail to understand all of them properly, specifically "static" (used in a global context) which marks some symbol as inelligible to be touched externally (e.g. you can't use "extern" to access it). the whole fucking point of static is to make #include'd headers rational, to have a clear seperation between external, intended-to-be-accessed API symbols, and internal, opaque shit. nobody bothers. it's all there, out in the open, if you #include something, you get all of it, and brother, this is only the beginning, you also get all of its preprocessor garbage.

this is where the hell begins:

#if #else

hey, do these look familiar? we already fucking have if/else. do you know what is hard to understand? perfectly minimally written if/else logic, in long functions. do you know what is nearly impossible to understand? poorly written if/else rats nests (which is what you find 99% of the time). do you know what is completely impossible to understand? that same poorly-written procedural if/else rat's nest code that itself is is subject to another higher-order if/else logic.

it's important to remember that the cpp is a glorified search/replace. in all it's terrifying glory it fucking looks to be turing complete, hell, im sure the C++ preprocessor is turing complete, the irony of this shouldn't be lost on you. if you have some long if/else logic you're trying to understand, that itself is is subject to cpp #if/#else, the logical step would be to run the cpp and get the output pure C and work from there, do you know how to do that? you open the gcc or llvm/clang man page, and your tty session's mem usage quadruples. great job idiot. trying figuring out how to do that in the following eight thousand pages. and even if you do, you're going to be running the #includes, and your output "pure C" file (bereft of cpp logic) is going to be like 40k lines. lol.

the worst is yet to come:

#define #ifdef #ifndef (<- WTF) #undef you can define shit. you can define "anything". you can pick a name, whatever, and you can "define it". full stop. "#define foo". or, you can give it a value: "#define foo 1". and of course, you can define it as a function: "#define foo(x) return x". wow. xzibit would be proud. you dog, we heard you wanted to kill yourself, so we put a programming language in your programming language.

the function-defines are pretty lol purely in concept. when you find them in the wild, they will always look something like this:

#define foo(x,y) \ (((x << y)) * (x))

i've seen up to seven parens in a row. why? because since cpp is, again, just a fucking find&replace, you never think about operator precedence and that leads to hilarious antipaterns like the classic

#define min(x,y) a < b ? a : b

which will just stick "a < b ? a: b" ternary statement wherever min(.. is used. just raw text replacement. it never works. you always get bitten by operator precedence.

the absolute worst is just the bare defines:

#define NO_ASN1 #define POSIX_SUPPORTED #define NO_POSIX

etc. etc. how could this be worse? first of all, what the fuck are any of these things. did they exist before? they do now. what are they defined as? probably just "1" internally, but that isn't the point, the philosophy here is the problem. back in reality, in C, you can't just do something like "x = 0;" out of nowhere, because you've never declared x. you've never given it a type. similar, you can't read its value, you'll get a similar compiler error. but cpp macros just suddenly exist, until they suddenly don't. ifdef? ifndef? (if not defined). no matter what, every permutation of these will have a "valid answer" and will run without problem. let me demonstrate how this fucks things up.

do you remember "heartbleed" ? the "big" openssl vulnerability ? probably about a decade ago now. i'm choosing this one specifically, since, for some reason, it was the first in an annoying trend for vulns to be given catchy nicknames, slick websites, logos, cable news coverage, etc. even though it was only a moderate vulnerability in the grand scheme of things...

(holy shit, libssl has had huge numbers of remote root vulns in the past, which is way fucking worse, heartbleed only gave you a random sampling of a tiny bit of internal memory, only after heavy ticking -- and nowadays, god, some of the chinese bluetooth shit would make your eyeballs explode if you saw it; a popular bt RF PHY chip can be hijacked and somehow made to rewrite some uefi ROMs and even, i think, the microcode on some intel chips)

anyways, heartbleed, yeah, so it's a great example since you could blame it two-fold on the cpp. it involved a generic bounds-checking failure, buf underflow, standard shit, but that wasn't due to carelessness (don't get me wrong, libssl is some of the worst code in existence) but because the flawed cpp logic resulted in code that:

A.) was de-facto worthless in definition B.) a combination of code supporting ancient crap. i'm older than most of you, and heartbleed happened early in my undergrad. the related legacy support code in question hadn't been relevant since clinton was in office.

to summarize, it had to do with DTLS heartbeats. DTLS involves handling TLS (or SSLv3, as it was then, in the 90s) only over UDP. that is how old we're talking. and this code was compiled into libssl in the early 2010s -- when TLS had been the standard for a while. TLS (unlike SSLv3 & predecessors) runs over TCP only. having "DTLS heartbeat support in TLS does not make sense by definition. it is like drawing a triangle on a piece of paper whose angles don't add up to 180.

how the fuck did that happen? the preprocessor.

why the fuck was code from last century ending up compiled in? who else but!! the fucking preprocessor. some shit like:

#ifndef TCP_SUPPORT <some crap related to UDP heartbeats> #endif ... #ifndef NO_UDP_ONLY <some TCP specific crap> #endif

the header responsible for defining these macros wasn't included, so the answer to BOTH of these "if not defined" blocks is true! because they were never defined!! do you see?

you don't have to trust my worldview on this. have you ever tried to compile some code that uses autoconf/automake as a build system? do you know what every single person i've spoken to refers to these as? autohell, for automatic hell. autohell lives and dies on cpp macros, and you can see firsthand how well that works. almost all my C code has the following compile process:

"$ make". done. Makefile length: 20 lines.

the worst i've ever deviated was having a configure script (probably 40 lines) that had to be rune before make. what about autohell? jesus, these days most autohell-cursed code does all their shit in a huge meta-wrapper bash script (autogen.sh), but short of that, if you decode the forty fucking page INSTALL doc, you end up with:

$ automake (fails, some shit like "AUTOMAKE_1.13 or higher is required) $ autoconf (fails, some shit like "AUTOMCONF_1.12 or lower is required) $ aclocal (fails, ???) $ libtoolize (doesn't fail, but screws up the tree in a way that not even a `make clean` fixes $ ???????? (pull hair out, google) $ autoreconf -i (the magic word) $ ./configure (takes eighty minutes and generates GBs of intermediaries) $ make (runs in 2 seconds)

in conclusion: roflcopter

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littlest-dark-age · 2 years

Note

perv!steve headcannons? pls pls pls

Could you love me instead of all the boyfriends you get?

Headcannons for perv!stevie. mdni

Listen to while reading : wet dream by wet leg

Warnings : manipulation, slight babying, slight controlling steve, needy steve, Stevie's love sick, possessive and protective steve, stalking, face sitting, spitting, recorded sex, voyeurism, slight cnc, slight somno, worshipping, creampie's, slight exhibitionism. If I missed anything please let me know

Constantly trying to convince you that he knows what's best for you. That you should trust him with everything, so you won't worry your pretty little head over anything that's too tough for his baby.

Will lay out your clothes for the day before he goes to work, as well as having things set out for you around the house. Your plate waiting at your seat on the table, a reminder to make sure you properly eat during the day. A new list on the fridge everyday with little things he wants you to do. Read a chapter in the new book he got you, make sure you pick out the two of you will be eating for dinner, etc.

He doesn't like it when you bathe and he's not there. Steve has little rituals for once you're out of the tub or shower. Drying you off, rubbing your lotion and body butter in for you, taking care of your hair if needed, making sure you don't leave your dirty clothes in the bathroom floor and more

Steve always asks if he got your order or something similar right, big brown eyes peering into your own with a desperate need of approval and praise. A wide smile spreads across his face when you tell him that he got it right, something in his core warming at the fact that he remembered. It sends a pleasant shiver down his spine when you tell him he did a good job.

Gives you his card whenever you wanna go shopping or even just to the store, he likes having you dependent on him. Knowing that you're relying on him, the only condition being that you show him whatever you got. If it's clothes, he'll ask you to do a twirl in the pretty fabrics

Doesn't steal your clothes like Eddie does, although he does see the appeal. Steve would rather take things like stuffed animals or even a pillow, sure they're harder to smuggle out of your house but he can just use the excuse that you left it over at his when you question him on why one of your teddy bears is sitting peacefully on his otherwise plain bed.

Will play up a simple injury or cold so you'll be his little doctor. He'll look practically dead but still be mumbling about how you don't have to be there with him if it's too much trouble, he doesn't wanna ruin your weekend by keeping you stuck inside the house. Yet his big puppy eyes just won't let you say no, and that's exactly what he wants. A small grin spreads across his face once you've tucked him into your chest, after rubbing vicks all over him and making sure his belly is full of yummy soup.

He convinces you to give him a copy of your house key, telling you it's just for emergencies and in case anything ever happens. But Steve uses it for going and just…sitting in your room, laying on your bed as he soaks in the atmosphere that feels like where he belongs more than anywhere in the world. Like that's where he's meant to be. He doesn't usually take anything but he will search through your stuff. Making sure you're not hiding anything from him.

Steve can't handle the idea of not knowing where you are, what you're doing, who you're with. He has to know. He just has to, otherwise he will go insane. Sneaking off when it's slow at work to call your house phone to make sure you're at home when you said you'd be. Asking who you're going out with when you tell him you plan on visiting a couple of stores. Probably telling you that he doesn't like you being alone with certain friends and that he'd rather you wait until he has a day off to go.

Will tell you that the movie you want to rent isn't available so you'll keep coming into the store to check on it. He has no issue telling you that it's out yet again so he can get a glimpse of your precious pout. Leaning far too close over the counter to be considered just friendly, eyes roaming every inch of your figure he can see. Blatantly staring at your ass while you walk away as he chubs up behind the desk.

He says he feels as if you've put him under a spell. Mentioning how consumed he has become with you, ever since the first time he saw you. You take up and occupy the darkest places in his mind, places he doesn't usually dare go. But you force him to go there, force him to need you with him constantly. Steve says he feels like he's burning from within if you're separated for too long, like his veins are pure fire. The need to see you all the time manifesting itself as stolen pictures of you, him burying his face into the soft skin of your stomach as he sobs for you to never leave him and love him till you die.

Steve has a stash of little trinkets that remind him of you. A glass bead he found on the sidewalk that's your favorite color, a small ceramic cast of your favorite animal from the thrift stores, a plate and cup set from your favorite show and so much more.

He will absolutely park his car outside your house, just watching. "Keeping an eye on you for safety" is what he convinces himself what he's doing. In reality, he wants to see if you'll change by the window again or if you bring anybody up to your bedroom. If he notices someone he doesn't like, which is most people when it comes to you, Steve will act as if he was on a late night drive and somehow ended up at your house on "accident" and wanted to stop by. Seeming shy when he knocks because of how late it is but telling you how he just started driving here without realizing it when he went cruising

nsfw

Wants you to sit on his face and smother him. Break his neck. He'll beg for it if you want him to, Steve just wants to feel your weight and have your thighs squeeze all coherent thought from his brain. Constantly dragging you back down when you try to run away from his mouth as he laps at you and presses kisses to wherever he can reach. Not caring how sore his throat and neck will be in the morning.

Asks you to open wide after kissing you and to stick your tongue out for him. His cock practically a rock in his pants as he watches his spit land on your tongue and you greedily swallow it, and have the nerve to look at him all shy when he knows the only thought running through your head is him spitting in you in other places. He'd also let you spit on him if you wanted to, eyes blowing wide as he likes the idea of the role reversal

Thinks about bringing up recording the two of you having sex at least once a week. It would be so easy, and it's not like the tape would go anywhere it wouldn't need to be. Steve says he understands your hesitation when he finally brings it up to you but that it would be fun. Talking about it was if it's no big deal, and that he knows you'd enjoy it. After all, you enjoyed being filmed all the other times he did it. This time you'll just know about the camera..

Steve gets so worked up seeing you in his clothes, enough so that if they don't fit you comfortably that he would go buy more and wear them so they smelled like him like the others. You can see his adams apple bobble with every swallow as he watches you roam his house in nothing but your underwear and one of his shirts. A tent slowly forming in his boxers that he palms at with his eyes glued to you and your figure.

Every time you stay over at his house, he can't keep himself from rutting up against you while you sleep. Hot puffs of breath fanning over your neck as he tries not to wake you with his jerky movements, one hand gripping the fabric of your shirt so hard his knuckles are white to keep from groping you. Although, at this point, what's the harm? He's already using your ass and thighs to get off so what's the point in denying himself feeling you up.

Something in him gets even more desperate when the two of you fuck. A need that's always there but usually under much better control. He needs you to tell him how good he's doing, how good he makes you feel and the way he makes you cum harder than you ever have. Needy and hurried thrusts making his hips smack against yours, his hairy chest pressed against your back with his arms wrapped around you. Clinging to you like you are the air he breathes and the blood that flows through him. Broken moans in your ear as he begs you to tell him that he's the only one for you.

He can't help but show just how desperate he is for you whenever you tell him you're horny. Eyes widening as he nods and looks around for a place to sneak off to so he can please you however you want. Steve's willing to ignore his borderline painful hard cock if you just wanna cum on his face, although he might slip a hand down to help ease the pressure. Always so eager to please yet he tries to hide it, in fear of you running off from how far he's willing to go for you….which is farther than most people think Steve's capable of…

Steve will, and does, worship you. Working his way up your legs with his kisses, starting with your feet and ankles. Ghosting over your hips, leading up to your chest. All while mumbling praise after praise into your skin, telling you how much he loves you. How lucky he is that you let him spoil you the way that he does. That he's thankful such a divine being like you uses him and his cock.

He will offer to cook for you whenever you want but his food always has one special ingredient. Steve likes to pump his cum into whatever he can, eyes wide as he watches you eat whatever he made. Cock hardening again knowing that you're enjoying eating his cum, flush rising to his cheeks if you compliment him on it. He'll just smile and tell you he tried a new way of making it, just for you.

Adores the sight of you bouncing on his cock and feeling your thighs slap against his. Feeling your hands grip onto his hairy chest for support. His eyes roll back as he moans out, head tossed back into one of many pillows he put on the bed in hopes you'd stay the night more. Can't keep his hands still, they roam your sweaty body and wrap around your waist. When he notices you getting tired, he'll plant his feet and start to thrust up in to you.

Will ask you to not wear any underwear, especially in public. Thinks its fun to stick his hand down there and play with you just enough to get you frustrated and whining. Patting you on your butt, mumbling about waiting till you get home later.

Steve always, always, always wants to finish in you. He complains about it being a waste if he doesn't, sometimes not even wanting you to swallow. He'll use a condom if you're adamant about it but would much rather prefer raw. Loving the feeling of nothing coming between you two when you're physically as close as possible without a way of crawling into one another

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imagine-knowing-a-name · 4 months

Text

Coming Out

Summary: Your work with Melina allows you to meet her daughter, Yelena, and as the two of you share a room whenever she visits, you find yourself growing close enough to make a confession.

Word Count: 2162

Pairing: aroace!Yelena Belova & aroace!Reader

Request: For Yelena can I request an imagine where the reader and her are sibling figures to each other. And the reader comes out as aroace to her and admits that they see her a sister figure?

Warnings: A little bit of worry about loneliness from Yelena, but that's it.

A/N: It took me a while to write this one, but I always love writing for Yelena :) the way I could write the coming out part easily because I've daydreamed about what I'd say, but didn't know how to write the reaction was a funny realisation for me though.

»»————-　★　————-««

For the past three months, you had been working on replicating an antidote to the Red Room’s mind control, under the supervision of one Melina Vostokoff. She had been a unique employer, providing you with a room, home-cooked meals, her company, and of course some very generous pay.

It's why – instead of the usual joy at a successful test run – you were filled with a bittersweet feeling, already imagining your departure from Melina's cabin and the subsequent job search you'd have to endure.

But then Melina asked you to stay on, just a couple of weeks, to pass on the serum to Yelena and see the project through to the very end. You accepted without hesitation, not least out of curiosity to finally meet the one of the daughters that you had heard so much about.

“You will be sharing a room,” Melina informed you only hours before her daughter’s arrival, “it is technically her room.”

You had no time to comment further, with the scientist sweeping past you in a hurry to prepare the space, but you managed a nod of acknowledgement. You’d put two and two together anyway; your room was the one with two beds.

»»————-　★　————-««

With cameras and tripwires monitoring every motion in a two-mile radius, nothing could ever truly surprise Melina, but the jet touching down in the Russian wilderness outside her house couldn't surprise anyone. Yet, as the cameras tracked the blonde assassin on her path, the house fell into a lull of silence – only broken by a key in the door and a “мама, I’m home!”; the sound of which caused Melina to rush to the door with an Oscar-worthy performance of surprise.

“Yelena, welcome, welcome, we have the serum for you but come in, sit down. This is Y/N.”

You waved from the corner.

Yelena smiled at you even as she was ushered away. There was an understanding in her eyes that conveyed both of your apologies – her apologising for her mother, and you for your interruption to their family reunion.

By night, things became even more awkward when, after an evening of eating and drinking and catching up and more drinking, the Red Room trainees finally decided to call it a night. Melina returned to her bedroom while Yelena slunk into yours, where she moved with abnormal quietness until you announced that you were still awake.

“That makes this easier,” she said.

“It does,” you replied.

“We have not spoken properly yet, without Melina interrupting. I am sorry for how… pushy she is.”

“That’s not for you to apologise for, Yelena. Besides, I could see it in your expressions that you’re just as used to it as I am; it’s just how she is.”

Yelena was in bed by then, the two of you turned on your sides to face one another.

“You are staying here now? Then you have it worse. I do not mean to intrude on your space here.”

“If anyone’s intruding, it’s me,” you almost laughed, “Melina told me this was your bedroom first.”

“It is a spare room. No more yours than mine. My room is in Ohio, in a house Natasha bought.”

“Then I suppose neither of us is intruding. Goodnight, Yelena.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

»»————-　★　————-««

After such a short conversation, you still knew very little about Yelena. And if you wanted to find out any more, it was already too late: the Widow was gone by morning.

You learnt later on that the behaviour was normal for girls trained in the Red Room. Melina and Yelena had spoken about preparations the night before, leaving the younger assassin free to disappear the moment she'd had adequate rest.

Despite sharing only one conversation with her, a deep sense of disappointment dwelled in your heart when you woke to find her empty bed. Maybe it had been too long with only Melina as company, but you felt some kinship with Yelena, and you wished you could have at least said goodbye.

What you didn't know then would change all that, with the plans the future held for the two of you. Or, to be more accurate, the plans Melina held. Your non-verbal communications with Yelena while Melina talked had not gone unnoticed by the older Widow. So not only had she grown fond of your presence, but she knew her daughter had as well, and what better reason to ask you to stay than for that?

The woman presented you with a list of her rationales: the need for large batches of serum, the side projects the scientist needed help on, and, of course, your proven skill as a chemist. But to both you and Melina, no reason was more important than the bond you'd built with her daughter, because (as she told you later on) ‘everyone knows that girl needs socialising’, and she'd determined you were perfect for the job.

You didn't need to think twice, accepting her proposition in a heartbeat.

As the years passed, your working relationship with Melina only strengthened, expanding into your daily lives too when she began treating you as another member of the family, like the child who stayed home. You couldn't complain, but the highlights were always Yelena’s visits, sporadic as they may be, and the energy that came with it. For Yelena, nights spent in the farmhouse talking about menial subjects, or the work you did in the lab, afforded her a sense of calm she missed while on her missions. While for you, tales of her escapades kept your mind racing, and Yelena became the friend you'd always wanted to have: close enough to be siblings, but without the bickering that came with it.

It was on one such visit that Yelena brought up the topic that would change both of your lives forever. One you had thought about, but didn't have the words to express.

"You know what I like about you, Y/N?" was what Yelena said suddenly, her voice breaking through the hush of the nighttime quiet.

"What?" came your sleep-laced reply.

"You never ask me about my dating life," she softly whispered, "my mother does. All the time. The first thing after I'm through the door: 'Oh does my daughter have anyone special yet?'. But you never do."

"Melina asks enough for the both of us. It's never been a priority of mine, so why pry?"

"You don't want to know?"

"If you have a partner that you want to tell me about, then of course I'll listen. But we've known each other for years now 'Lena -- practically family -- so I know that if you want to tell me then you'll tell me."

In every pause, the silence started to engulf the space, stealing every word before it could even be breathed, but Yelena was determined.

"Have you ever..." another pause, "I don't know if there will ever be something to tell you. If I will ever get a partner. If I had one I would tell you! I really would! But I don't- I don't know if-"

"I get it, Yelena, probably more than you know.”

This would be the perfect opportunity to tell her, you thought, but you swallowed that idea down once again. It's too sudden. You're taking away from her conversation. There's nowhere to go if she reacts poorly. A swirl of nerves paralysed your actions until you heard Yelena shuffle over in bed, turning away from you.

It was too late, the moment had passed, and your confession would have to wait for another day.

»»————-　★　————-««

That day came many months later, on Yelena's next visit to the farm you called home. She decided to stay an extra night, giving the two of you a day together without responsibilities -- of course, you were supposed to work, but Melina excused you with a wave of her hand, telling you to go entertain yourself with Yelena'a company.

You'd prepared yourself this time, and despite the rushing fears in your head telling you 'just a little bit longer', you forged on and began the conversation with Yelena while she sat beside you on the couch.

"You remember last time?" you asked nervously, "when we talked about dating, or lack of it?"

"Oh, don't tell me, you have got a partner!" With the way Yelena's eyes lit up, you almost hesitated to say the rest. But you also saw beyond it, in the depths of her eyes that you'd come to read so well, you saw fear; it was a feeling you'd experienced many a time before, the fear and worry of losing a friend to the world of romance -- it was because of this that you knew you had to go on.

"No. Almost... the opposite actually."

Relief flooded her eyes, though she masked it with a sorrow you knew she'd been trained to show.

"I am not attracted to men. Or to women. Or to anyone else." That familiar recognition flickered in the assassin. "There's a term for it: aromantic and asexual -- aroace. I don't know if I will date; I would like to put the effort in for someone and have them care for me back, but no matter how things go, I will never be dating in the way people expect of me, because I am aroace."

You sighed, the confession finally reaching the ears of the one you wanted to tell it to, but you still awaited the reaction. Nervous eyes rose from the hands in your lap to meet the eyes of your closest confidant, searching every millimetre of her face for a clue. Gone was the hint of recognition, only to be replaced by a look you had rarely seen in Yelena: pride.

Still with words unspoken, she sprung forward, wrapped her arms around your body and pulled you close, before she finally began to whisper words of encouragement. She told you of her pride in your bravery, her acknowledgement of your fears, reassurance of her acceptance, and, most importantly to you, her recognition of the experience you'd described.

Any questioning about that recognition was promptly (and not so subtly) redirected back to your coming out. You accepted the tangents and questions and dropped the subject for the time being. Yelena would tell you when she needed to, but she wasn't ready yet. So, just like your own attempt, Yelena's confession would have to wait.

»»————-　★　————-««

For Yelena, that wait took slightly longer – not much time to question your sexuality when you're fighting for your life, you imagined. But the day still came, several visits later.

It mimicked that first night you two spent together, with you already in bed and Yelena shuffling around the room when she began to speak.

“I've been thinking…”

You hummed to let her know you were listening.

“Natasha asked me if I was a lesbian the other day, but I'm not. I'm not…anything. I don't feel anything. What you said about not being attracted to anyone, is the closest I've felt to explaining it, but it's not quite the same – I really wouldn't want to date anyone, ever, and I'm okay with that. I looked it up. So I think I might be aroace too.”

Yelena sat on the edge of her bed, facing you but with her head down and her hands fidgeting in her lap. You moved into action immediately; you rolled out of bed, took a seat beside her, and draped an arm over her shoulder, pulling her close.

“I'm proud of you,” you told her, “and all your choices. Thank you for trusting me.”

Yelena smiled, though it fell as her eyes drifted to yours. “Does it ever get lonely?”

“It can do. Other people's opinions can make it worse. But you'll always have me, just as I always had you; we'll get through life in our own way.”

“I've known for a while,” she confessed again.

“I know.”

“I've known I didn't want to date but…that is what the Red Room encouraged – that love is for children. But everyone else falls in love, even Natasha, and I worry I am still not free of their conditioning.”

Yelena looked up at you then, her eyes full of worry and betraying the insecurity she still felt. You know then that she'd told you just as she was coming to terms with it herself, and felt your heart swell again at her trust in you. And yet, you couldn't be sure of quite what to say; you may be a scientist, but this was beyond your area of expertise.

“I think you're free to trust your gut,” you finally said, “even if it complies with what they taught you.”

There was silence as both you and Yelena settled back into your own beds, and then you continued. “Labels can change if you do. But you know what's best for you now.”

“I do,” Yelena whispered shyly. “Thank you, Y/N, and goodnight.”

“Goodnight Yelena; sleep well.”

»»————-　★　————-««

taglist: @canvascoloredin@fxckmiup@wizardofstories

#yelena belova #aroace yelena belova #yelena belova & reader #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova imagine #aroace y/n #aroace reader #yelena belova & y/n #yelena belova & you

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orange-orchard-system · 4 months

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The line "It's not X's fault that your doctor* isn't taking you seriously, it's your doctor's fault." has been said many times before, and not for no reason. However, I've yet to see that reason properly explained, so I'm going to do my best to do that today.

You see, I don't think saying this phrase alone really gets across the message of it. Because sometimes doctors will blame X ("trenders", TikTok, self-diagnosis, whatever) as their reason for not taking you seriously. Which makes this sentiment come across as ignoring the people who have had that happen to them. But the sentiment still applies to those folks, too. Why?

Because if your doctor truly had your best interests in mind, they would still do their best to help you out regardless of their own concerns; they wouldn't just say, "I'm not gonna help you because I think you're just influenced too much by X." Maybe they'd go over the possibility of you being influenced by X, but at the end of the day, the existence of someone else is not a justified reason for your doctor to not give you treatment, because your life is not defined by this nebulous other person, group, or object.

You are your own person. You are an individual patient. Your doctor should be treating you as an individual patient and person, not a mindless mouthpiece for a trend. Outside of whatever influences your doctor may be concerned about, you are still a patient and person, and deserve to be treated well as one. You do not deserve to be treated as incapable of thinking for yourself; you do not deserve to have your concerns dismissed as planted there by whatever scapegoat your doctor has chosen as an excuse not to properly treat you. Being less educated in the matters of health, making an incorrect guess about what's going on with you, or just daring to have a condition that a lot of people are talking about right now are not, in fact, good reasons for a doctor to not perform their job and listen to what's bothering you or going on in your life.

Moreover, a good doctor should acknowledge that even if your concerns are misplaced, there had to be something to build those concerns in the first place. Maybe you don't have ADHD, but you struggle with executive dysfunction and need help with that. Maybe you don't have POTS, but your heart is doing something funky and more testing is needed to figure out what. Even the most extreme of fears come from a nugget of truth, and it's your doctor's job to find that nugget so they can help you with it. It's just unfortunate that many doctors aren't willing to properly search for that nugget.

If I see discourse about "fakers" on this post I'm going back to bed. Stop blaming other people for your doctor's incompetence. Consider reporting on your doctor to their boss or the ethics committee for refusing to properly treat you because a certain condition is becoming more well-known, or whatever their excuse is this time

*Note that "doctor" here is used to refer to any health professional. Psychologist, psychiatrist, dermatologist, whatever. It's just an easy catch-all.

#front soup.txt #health

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chaotictakea · 5 months

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Fake emergency

characters: aged up!atsumu miya, aged up!kiyoomi sakusa and male reader content: poly relationship, established relationship, reader is a workaholic synopsis: Atsumu and Kiyoomi have to fake an emergency for their S/o to actually come back home words count: 998 words author's note: it's my first time really writting in english so for the one's who will read this, even if I proofread it the best I can, if you can please correct my mistakes so I can improve myself. characters: aged up!atsumu miya, aged up!kiyoomi sakusa and male reader content: poly relationship, established relationship, reader is a workaholic synopsis: Atsumu and Kiyoomi have to fake an emergency for their S/o to actually come back home words count: 998 words author's note: it's my first time really writting in english so for the one's who will read this, even if I proofread it the best I can, if you can please correct my mistakes so I can improve myself.

Atsumu and Kiyoomi are two well-known volleyball players, they earn a lot of money each month.

With all that money that they own they want to spoil their s/o till death. Unfortunately for them they fell hard for a workaholic that rarely accepted unplanned or too expensive gifts and drowned himself into work.

Tonight Y/n normally should have come back home around midnight or even one in the morning, but he almost having an accident as he tried to go back home as soon as possible when it was only 8 pm. Only because of Kiyoomi's panicked voice on the phone just a few minutes ago.

. . .

" Guys I'm back home !" Y/n shouted as he entered in their shared house. He barely had the time to get rid of his shoes that he was already running towards the kitchen, the only place from where he could hear sounds.

He was already preparing himself for a disaster, or even worse, because of the panic he had distinguished in Kiyoomi's voice during their short call where Kiyoomi urged Taruo to come home earlier today.

What actually happened ? Atsumu had an accident again ? Someone set something on fire ? All these worries seemed to navigate through his brain for an endless time, when in reality only a couple of seconds separated his arrival at home and his presence in the kitchen.

A…perfectly normal kitchen, just like everyday. Y/n didn't have the time to react properly that Atsumu was already welcoming him with a sweet kiss and his hands wrapped around his waist.

He frowned in confusion, why was everything so normal ? With his brows furrowed he let Atsumu drag him to the sink so that he could wash his hands.

After his hands were clean Kiyoomi gave him a kiss on the cheek while he was cutting some fruits. No one was taking the time to explain to him what was happening right now as Atsumu happily made him sit on a nearby chair.

" So… there's no emergency ?" Y/n asked hesitantly as Atsumu was drawing small patterns on his hips with his fingers, he couldn't believe that his boyfriends made him quit his job earlier than he wanted for nothing.

" No emergency ? Of course there was an emergency. You weren't at home yet." Kiyoomi said a tad of condescendence which earned him a light punch from Y/n.

" It's not an emergency at all." The shorter man replied flabbergasted by his boyfriends trick as he was sandwiched between the taller men. But he didn't search to argue further about it. For a moment no one was talking everyone was enjoying eachother warmth, because even if Y/n was a tad upset beeing in his lovers arms was delightful.

" It's an emergency." Kiyoomi answered back as he sat in front of his boyfriends, Atsumu standing behing Y/n with his arms still wrapped around him.

" You don't have to work this much, we're here !" Atsumu complained hugging Y/n tighter in his arms. Which only made Y/n roll his eyes as he didn't want to acknowledge Atsumu's point.

Of course having two boyfriends that were successful in the world of sport didn't allow him to really worry about money. But, in his eyes, it wasn't a reason to get lazy with job, even when his relation with his work was all but healthy.

" I always worked like this." Y/n said, trying to justify his unhealthy amount of work time. " And no one is dead because of it."

Atsumu pinched him to make him shut up as his face was burried comfortably against Y/n's neck, spreading endless kisses on it. " Shh.. Don't try to find an excuse." the blond cooed as one of his hands was squeezing Y/n's left thigh.

Despite Atsumu's words Y/n was preparing himself to say something else, found himself silenced by Kiyoomi's kiss. " What about some vacations ?" the ravenette proposed as his fingers moved towards Y/n's face. The short boy shivered slightly as Kiyoomi's cold fingertips touched his face with an undeniable carefulness.

" Great idea !" Atsumu agreed as he finally stopped the kisses on Y/n's neck only to let Kiyoomi kiss his forehead. " Y/n where do you want to go right now ?" The blond asked with a sweet smile adorning his face.

Y/n raised his head for his eyes to meet the setter's one who still had his pretty smile on his face. He was surprised with the question before suspisciously asking: " When are we supposed to leave ?" He wanted to know that before answering Atsumu's question.

His sudden question made the two volleyball players think for a bit before they look at eachother in the eyes and nod simultaneously. " After tomorrow of course." They said together.

They didn't let Y/n the time to protest or even to be stunned by the upcoming travel that Atsumu felt the need to add something. " And you take your vacation right now." he ordered, silencing Y/n's protest with a kiss.

" If your boss tries to decline your vacations then just leave." Kiyoomi suggested while grabbing the bowl full of fruit he had cut beforehand. " He owes you too much vacations anyway." He added as his firm voice didn't let Y/n any other choice than to accept his suggestion.

They were right anyways. It has been a long time since Y/n actually took vacations. Some days of vacations with his two loving and caring boyfriends won't hurt him.

" And, of course, you'll leave your money at home." Atsumu cooed in Y/n's ear, he didn't want his stubborn boyfriend to pay for a single thing during his well-derserved vacation. But Y/n only snickered at Atsumu's proposition, who sounded more than ridiculous in his ears.

" In your dreams." He said while letting Kiyoomi feed him his fruit salad. Atsumu sighed, forgetting about his proposition as he understood it was pointless to try to convince him. He wanted to spoil his hard working boyfriend and he will.

He will just hide Y/n's wallet and black card.

But Y/n doesn't need to know about his plan.

#poly relationship #male reader #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #sakusa kiyoomi #kiyoomi sakusa #atsumu x reader #kiyoomi x reader #haikyuu kiyoomi #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #hq kiyoomi #hq atsumu #sakusa x atsumu #msby atsumu #atsumu miya x reader #hq x reader

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the-modern-typewriter · 2 years

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hii absolutely love your snippets! i was wondering if you can do one with two detectives ( one who has strong moral codes and the other is morally grey?) preferably m/m? have a great day!

"You can't just break into-mmph!"

The protagonist glared, indignant, as the other detective promptly shoved him into the wall, pressing a strong hand against his mouth.

"Someone's coming," the detective hissed. "Shut up."

Convenient. So convenient, wasn't it, that someone was coming just as the protagonist was winning their argument about how it was wrong to break into someone's house without a proper warrant. It was trespassing. Being a detective did not put either of them above the law!

The other detective's body was warm and firm where it pressed against him, lean from hours prowling the streets in search of secrets. The protagonist didn't know how the other detective did it, actually. Most of the job was stake-outs and patience.

Except, the infuriating detective currently pinning him to the wall had no patience. Only abs. Abs and those piercing blue eyes that seemed too sunny and pretty a colour for so maddening a man, currently locked on his face as if he was the thing to be unravelled and discovered.

The protagonist's mouth felt dry.

Yet, sure enough, he heard the sound of stranger footsteps, the low murmur of voices.

The detective shuffled a little closer, so his dark coat would blend them both a little more firmly into the shadows. There was no time to hide, not properly, and if they were caught..

Well, the protagonist could admit that would be bad. One, because trespassing. And two, because if the reason they were both trespassing was right, whoever those footsteps belonged to was very, very dangerous.

The protagonist's heart raced.

The two of their faces were barely inches apart. He could feel the detective's breath caressing ticklish and minty against his cheek. He'd always imagined - not that he'd imagined (and okay, he'd imagined!) - that the other detective's breath would be sour with whiskey, or smoke, or some other stereotypical thing. But, no. Mint. Fresh.

The protagonist willed himself himself not to make a slightly hysterical sound, and get them both caught and possibly killed over something as absurd as minty fresh toothpaste. Or gum. Whatever.

The detective grinned at him, wild, in the gloom. Drunk on adrenaline and what the two of them might learn, the thrill of the chase, and it shouldn't have looked good on him but it did...

The footsteps passed them by, with no conveniently spilled clue for cracking the entire case open.

Even when they were gone, the detective didn't move. He continued to watch the protagonist, something different on his face. His head tilted a fraction to the side.

"What?" the protagonist bit out, still keeping his voice low. "Get off me."

"I love when you debate the law with me," the detective said. "You always blush so lovely when you're mad."

"You-" The protagonist seethed, even as he damningly felt his face burn even hotter.

"-But now I think I like you crowded against the wall even more," the detective said. "Like prime evidence." His gaze raked a blazing trail along the protagonist's body. "If only you could get that stick out of your arse, I'd love to put something-"

"-Don't you dare finish that sentence."

"Oh, detective," the detective purred. "You should know better than to dare me to do anything."

The protagonist swallowed. He realised his hands were still clutching the front of the detective's jacket, and not shoving him away. He scowled. He let go.

The detective stepped back easily, gracefully, with another of those grins.

"Come on," he said. "Let's check out the basement. You were following a trespasser, weren't you? A PI without a cause! You simply have to see what I get up to, for the good of society, right?"

"That's not how it works," the protagonist said, only to immediately grow aware again of his face, of the passion on his face, of the way the detective drank it all up.

"I won't jeopardise the case," the PI said, more softly. "You know I'll do anything to get the truth. To stop the bad guys."

Yes. The protagonist did know that, for better or worse.

And, for better or worse, skin still tingling where the detective had touched him, he followed.

#m/m #detective #detectives #writing #story #creative writing #fiction #fic #ficlet #writing snippet

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