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hairmetal666 · 8 months

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Read Part One here

cw: implied child abuse

Eddie's coming over for coffee. Not Eddie with Nancy and Robin or Eddie with the kids. Just Eddie.

They haven't been alone in 9 years and now Eddie is coming over for coffee.

They're friends, of course. After Vecna they didn't have much of a choice, but they've never talked about it--that they used to be something.

After Steve kissed Eddie goodbye for what turned out to be the last time, they didn't see each other again for months and months, except for a devastatingly fleeting moment in the Family Video parking lot. And the next time after that, Eddie's pinning him to the wall of a rickety boathouse, a broken bottle to his throat.

What's going through his mind, his body, at that moment is relief. For days, weeks, months, he ached for Eddie's touch again, and even though he was in danger, he relished in the push of their bodies together. Thought, if this is how he dies, he won't mind going.

But they don't talk about it, about them, because Eddie is on the run and Max is going to die, and they have to save the world, so there's no time. In the aftermath, it's the least of their worries, and now it's been almost a decade and Eddie is coming over for coffee.

The thing is, it's not like Steve has been pining away for a love long lost in the intervening years, and neither has Eddie. They've both had longterm, serious relationships; Steve almost got married. But for Steve...Eddie is the one that's lingered, the one that knocks around his ribcage on late sleepless nights, the one that makes him dream of what might have been. Because Steve truly loved his other partners, but Eddie--nobody will ever compare.

Someone is knocking a rhythm at his front door, and he can't stifle his smile even as his heart runs riot in his chest.

"Hey, man," he says, remarkably nonchalant as he takes Eddie in. Still beautiful, still brimming with energy; his smile wide and dimpled, bouncing on his toes.

"Harrington!" Eddie grabs him into a quick side hug, slapping his back. "Since when do you wear glasses?"

Steve chuckles, touching the horn-rimmed frames. "Oh, god, Robin forced me to get them back in '87? Too many concussions." He touches his forehead. "I usually just wear contacts."

"It's a good look," Eddie says. He's very much not looking at Steve, eyes roaming around the Chicago apartment he's been to many times before.

He watches as Eddie spots the display of his own books, index finger slowly slipping across the spines in a way that makes Steve remember when those same fingers would slide down his spine. He stifles a shiver, turns towards the kitchen.

"So, how's New York? How's the book coming?"

"Livin' the dream." It's not flippant, not like how most people mean it. Eddie leaks genuineness, always has. "The book though...it's a little rough."

Steve sets the coffee maker going, brings fresh pastries and a couple plates over to the table. "I can imagine. It doesn't--it doesn't have to be the same, you know?"

"Yeah, if only I hadn't written three other books leading up to the evil mind wizard," Eddie chuckles. He grabs a croissant and tears it in half. "It'll be alright, Harrington. I'll figure it out. I lived through it the first time, after all."

Steve doesn't remind him that he almost didn't, that they almost didn't. Instead, he pours coffee, listens as Eddie talks about how to fictionalize the worst month of their collective lives.

He splashes milk into Eddie's coffee, taps in three scoops of sugar. He carries it to where Eddie waits, still talking about the logistics of Vecna-slash-Henry-slash-One in his novel, but his words abruptly stop as his hands wrap around the porcelain.

"Steve?"

It's only then that Steve realizes what he's done--made Eddie's coffee like he took it back then, made it without thinking, totally on muscle memory, when the best of his mornings were spent in Eddie's arms.

His cheeks glow crimson and he grips at the back of his neck. "S-sorry." He says. "It--is this still how you take it?"

"Yeah." Eddie's eyes fall from Steve's face, his own cheeks pink. "It's--yeah. Still the same."

"I'm sorry--"

"--Steve, I--"

They don't laugh. They both stop speaking and look at each other, faces still red. Steve thinks there's nothing for it but to get it all out now.

"I'm sorry, Eddie." He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I never came back. I'm sorry I didn't explain why. I'm just--really, really sorry."

Eddie's eyes are hooked on the table top, fingers twisting and twisting his coffee mug. "Can I--why? I waited and you--why?"

Steve swallows, but it gets stuck in his throat, and now he's the one who can't look up from his hands.

"My parents got home early," he manages. "My dad, he was waiting for me. I guess one of the neighbors thought it best to tell them who I'd been spending my time with."

Silence falls over the table, and he chances a look up at the man across from him, the one whose knuckles bite into his lips, whose eyes shine with unshed tears.

"You should've called me. You should've--you could've stayed with us. We would've kept you safe."

"Eddie, I couldn't. I physically couldn't," the admission costs him so much.

"Steve," Eddie chokes on his name, voice nothing but anguish. "Did anyone--You could've--you were all alone."

He shakes his head. "Robin knew. She snuck through my window to take care of me, but my parents--I couldn't--" This time the words really won't come. "We made a plan. We started that job at Family Video, and we saved up our money."

Now, Eddie's face is creased with grief. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

Steve shakes his head, smiles despite the wreckage around his heart. "You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. I left you with no explanation. I broke your heart. And--and--" He thinks, what does it hurt to say it at this point. "I love you. I love you so much. I convinced myself you were better off without me, that we could have a clean break and you could get over me."

Eddie's hands cover his face, muffle the sob that slips out. "Get over you?" He whispers. "There's never been one like you, sweetheart."

He slides around the table to kneel at Eddie's side. "Hey." Deep brown eyes stare back at him, Eddie's face wet with tears. "It's always you, Ed. Always. I didn't want to say anything, if you had moved on, but--"

There's not really any transition from them talking to them kissing; Steve slips into it like he did all those years ago, when he first asked for Eddie's kiss. Their mouths slot together, their bodies fit like they always used to, perfect puzzle pieces. Steve's knees give out at the first brush of Eddie's tongue, and they collapse into a heap on the kitchen floor. Even then, they don't part.

Eventually, Steve does break the embrace, face flushed and hair a disaster, glasses hanging off one ear. "Okay, trying to be responsible here. Should we take a pause, go on a date first? Slow down?"

"Nine years isn't slow enough?" Eddie's pupils are blown, hair frizzed around his head.

"When you put it that way," Steve can't help but laugh. "I just want to do right by you, Eddie. Make up for--everything."

Eddie grins down at him, that sunshine beam smile where his dimples pop. "Tell you what, how bout you take me to bed now, and I'll let you take me on a date tomorrow?"

"Oh, you'll let me?" Steve rakes a hand through Eddie's mane of hair. "I don't think you'll have any choice."

"You sure about that, Stevie?" Their lips are so close, the brush with every word.

"Uh-huh," Steve's having trouble keeping his eyes focused, overwhelmed by the sheer force of Eddie Munson. "Never letting you go again, Ed."

Surprise! Part 2! I genuinely had no intention on doing a follow-up, but so many of you asked so nicely that it gave me this idea. Sorry if I miss anyone in the tag list and thank you for reading! @everywherenothere @tiny-enthusiast @emma-elsa-0000 @fuzzyduxk @moonythepluviophile @anaibis @rhapsodyinalto @bunk12bear @tillystealeaves @velocitytimes2 @s-trawberryv-eins @marklee-blackmore @ignoremyworld @its-a-me-a-morgan @goodolefashionedloverboi @starman-jpg @djohawke @adaydreamaway08

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #getting back together #mutual pining #fluff #ficlet #part 2 #time jump #a tiny bit of angst #here's the happy ending #implied child abuse #part one was august i guess part two is the one #we were something don't you think so #and if my wishes came true it would've been you #jk eddie is the one #they're in love your honor #steve's parents are pieces of shit

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another-lost-mc · 10 months

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When MC Feels Burnout/Emotionally Numb THE DEMON BROTHERS 4.1k words | SFW | gn!Reader | Emotional Hurt/Comfort | Fluff & Angst A/N: The relationships between MC and the brothers can be read as romantic or platonic. The twins' sections are combined. ♫ [ MC's POV: Song Rec ]

─── LUCIFER:

Lucifer is concerned when you come to the dining room table for breakfast looking worse for wear; there's dark circles under your eyes like you haven't slept. You pour yourself a cup of tea and wrap your hands around the warm porcelain, but you don't drink it. Your breakfast plate remains untouched, and eventually you shuffle out of the room without a word.

He keeps an eye on you at RAD, but you're unusually withdrawn. You follow his brothers from class to class, eyes downturned and silent despite the lively conversations going on around you. Everyone walks home together that afternoon, but when he glances back to see how you are, he notices you’re lagging behind the rest of the group. He slows his pace to match yours, but you barely seem to notice; the walk home is silent.

When dinner time comes and goes without any change in your behaviour, he decides he needs to do something to snap you out of this little funk you're in. Later that evening, he invites you to keep him company in his study while he finishes his work. You accept in a monotone voice; it could be misconstrued as boredom, but he knows better.

Sometimes you read and listen to cursed records while he works at his desk, but tonight the random book you plucked off the shelf lays unopened in your lap. You stare unseeing into the fireplace, and your body is tense like you can’t relax.

He picks up something he was supposed to finish tonight—a folder full of documents to review and sign— but you barely notice when he sits beside you. He gives up all pretense of working when he places the folder and your unread book on the floor by his feet. He tucks you under his arm and pulls you against his side. You lean against him, a little reluctantly at first, until you start to relax. Your cheek is pressed against his chest and his heartbeat thumps gently beneath your ear.

He’s not sure how much time passes when you finally drift off to sleep. There’s something vulnerable about the way your body melts against his, and he wonders where he went wrong that led you to be in such a state to begin with.

He considers waking you so you can go back to your room to sleep. He contemplates carrying you somewhere more comfortable so he doesn't have to wake you—his room is closer, and maybe you won’t mind sharing a bed with him if it’s only for one night. Light and shadow from the fireplace dance along your skin, and you’re so warm in his arms; moving now seems like an impossibility.

A sore back in the morning seems like a fair price to pay when he decides to keep you exactly where you are. He maneuvers so carefully while he leans back against the armrest and holds you to his chest. He pulls the blanket off the back of the sofa and makes sure you’re covered before he closes his eyes. He doesn’t even notice that he syncs his breathing with yours, and he falls asleep not long after.

─── MAMMON:

Mammon eagerly tells you about his day—the things he bought, his wins at the casino, how his part-time gig is going—and he’s used to getting some sort of reaction from you (good or bad).

Today, you look at him blankly and tell him that’s nice in a quiet, emotionless voice that worries him. Having you scold him for being financially irresponsible (while you bite the inside of your cheek to resist the urge to smile) would be better than this. He’s stunned by your lack of a reaction, and you turn away from him when you’ve decided you don’t need to focus on paying attention to him anymore.

After dinner, he goes to your room and finds you laying in bed, staring at your ceiling and drumming the mattress idly with your fingertips.

"Whatcha doin’?" he asks, even though he knows what you're going to say next.

“Nothing,” your quiet, flat tone replies.

“Good. Come on,” he says in a much chipper voice than yours as he grabs both your hands and practically pulls you out of bed. He leads you outside the front door where his car is parked, thrumming gently while the engine runs. He flips on the seat warmer for you and glances at you occasionally from the corner of his eye; he hopes you’ll melt into the warm leather soon.

“We're just goin’ for a little drive,” he explains, even though you don't bother asking where he's taking you in the middle of the night. The radio is streaming music from his phone, and he keeps the volume low. He nods towards his D.D.D. on the dash. “You can change it if you want,” he offers, and he’s not surprised when you decline.

He drives away from the bustling streets of the Devildom. The road is empty and the skies are clearer here, but he knows brief moments of tranquility aren’t enough to alleviate whatever it is that’s bothering you.

He’s never been good with words, but he rests his hand palm-up over the gear shift. He’s not sure you even notice since you’ve been staring out the window most of the drive. After a few moments, you surprise him and put your hand in his. He squeezes your hand gently before lacing your fingers together; it feels like a victory when you don’t pull away.

Every once in a while he squeezes your fingers between his, and he smiles at the dark, open road when you do the same.

─── LEVIATHAN:

Leviathan knows what it’s like to feel numb. Sometimes he feels that way when his self-imposed isolation wears him down. Talking to Henry and surrounding himself with his games and manga and toys isn't always enough to fill the black void of jealousy that makes his tone sharp and his fangs even sharper.

He gets that way when he thinks about all things he wants but doesn’t have—he notices you become this way from doing too much for everyone else until you lose yourself in the process.

Between the two of you, you should be able to find some sort of balance. He feels like you should both know better, but here you are, drowning in your own black void while he watches helplessly. He can barely help himself; how can he possibly help you?

For lack of better ideas, he invites you to his room to play games. Usually you’re so animated when you play together; you jeer at him when he spins out due to a perfectly-timed banana, or you toss your controller aside and tickle him when his shell knocks you out of first place.

That level of enthusiasm is gone today; you tap the controller pad in total silence. You don’t care when you come in last place, and you don’t care when Levi throws the match so you can win. He turns off the TV and shuffles on the floor so he’s facing you. You glance at him occasionally but go back to staring at your lap.

Levi hates it when you cry, but he hates this dead-eyed stare of yours even more. He grunts in frustration when he gets up suddenly and grabs a small tin off his desk.

“Come here for a sec, I could use your help,” he says, and he shakes the tin in your direction until you get up from the sofa and shuffle to his side. He leads you to the aquarium where Henry bobs peacefully in the crystal-blue water. Levi hands you the tin and unfolds a step ladder he keeps tucked away. He climbs the ladder carefully so he can open the window at the top of the tank.

You open the can of fish flakes when he asks you to, and he sprinkles a generous helping across the top of the water. You’re transfixed by the sight of Henry dashing through the water for his supper, and Levi can’t stop staring at you.

“Sometimes he’s good to talk to,” Levi mentions off-handedly. “Henry is a good listener.”

(Both his Henry’s are good listeners, Levi thinks.)

“What do you talk about?” you ask him quietly, still watching the fish eat the tiny flakes.

“All sorts of stuff. Anything you want—he doesn’t judge.”

(You have that in common, too.)

Levi sputters a little, embarrassed by all the things he’s telling you, his little self-care rituals he normally keeps to himself. He thinks that even in your worst moments, like the way you are now, you’re still not nearly as pathetic as he is. You don’t deserve to feel like this, ever.

You glance away from the aquarium and meet Levi’s eyes just as tears begin to collect on his lash line. He clears his throat and takes the tin from you before putting it back on his desk. He pretends to organize things so he has an excuse not to turn around.

“Maybe you can come by tomorrow night and help me feed him again,” he manages to choke out.

A pause, and then you whisper, “I’d like that.”

Levi bites his lip to muffle his sobs.

─── SATAN:

Satan watches you during class and realizes you’re not acting like yourself. You tap your pen idly on the desk and stare at nothing. This is your favourite class but you’re not even listening.

Sometimes you come to his room after dinner and read, but not today. After school, you brush past everyone else and head to your room. He’s worried about you, and he’s not going to let you blow him off tonight. He knocks on your door, and your lifeless voice asks why he cares so much. He gets tongue-tied deciding how to respond:

I like spending time with you. You like reading nearly as much as I do and I don’t want that to ever change. It kills me to see you like this.

“It’s important to me,” is all he manages to say, and you must sense his desperation because you finally agree to follow him back to his room.

You sit on the bed while he picks the book off the shelf for you. You make a quiet noise of surprise when he places a pillow in your lap and lays down. Normally he reads to you, but his eyes are gentle when he holds the book out to you instead.

“Can you read a bit tonight?” he asks quietly. You frown and look like you want to argue, but he pushes just a little more—”for only a few chapters, okay?”

You take the book from him and pull out the bookmark when you find the right chapter. You glance down at him and when he smiles encouragingly, you start to read.

Your tone is quiet and dull at first, and your speech is slurred; Satan has trouble understanding you sometimes. He wonders if this was a stupid idea after all, but then you huff in amusement when you read a funny passage. He peers up at you and the little smile still tugs at the corners of your mouth as you finish the chapter.

You read another whole chapter after that, and Satan nearly melts in your lap when your free hand lazily combs through his hair as you read. Your eyes are a bit brighter when you finally stop reading and close the book.

“I can read a bit more if you’d like,” he asks you when he sits up. He almost expects you to refuse and shuffle away, but you nod and lay down when he sets the pillow in his lap for you to rest on.

He reads another chapter, quieter and slower than usual, and he stops reading when you fall asleep. He sets the book aside and moves you gently off his lap so he can settle into the space behind you. He drapes an arm loosely over your waist and contemplates other ways he can help you feel better.

─── ASMODEUS:

It breaks Asmo’s heart to see you like this. Your lovely complexion betrays the long days and poor sleep you’ve had. Your warm, shining gaze is dull. Your brow is creased with little lines and your mouth is downturned—he misses your easy smiles the most.

Sometimes Asmo feels like a ghost when he smiles at you but it feels like you see through him, not really acknowledging him or anything else around you.

He switches apps on his D.D.D. when he sees your message ping the group chat. You say that you’re not cooking dinner tonight (no explanation given) and that Lucifer should use part of your allowance this week to order food for everyone instead.

Asmo doesn’t blame you for not wanting to cook for seven hungry demons, but he has a suspicion that you plan on locking yourself in your room all night and skipping dinner for the third night in a row.

(You might’ve been at the dinner table every night this week, but he noticed that you just moved the food around in your plate without eating anything.)

No, he won’t let you do this to yourself. He understands wanting space and having lazy days, but that isn’t what this is. This is isolation and sadness and exhaustion, and if he feels this upset seeing how affected you are, he can’t imagine what you feel—or don’t feel—inside.

Asmo sends a quick message to Lucifer and asks him not to order anything for dinner just yet. Worst case scenario, Asmo will cave and order dinner for everyone later—but for now, Asmo marches to your room with a plan instead.

You’re buried under the covers when he lets himself into your room. He doesn’t bother turning on the lights; he can see you perfectly without them. He sits down slowly on the edge of the bed and rests his hand on your hip.

“How are you feeling, sweetie?” he asks quietly, and normally you laugh away his pet names for you, but today you shrug under the comforter instead.

“M’fine,” you mumble into your pillow.

“I could use your help with something,” he says, leaning down closer to your ear. He presses lightly against the side of your body like a poor imitation of an embrace. “How about you get up and keep me company, hmm?”

You’re quiet and don’t say anything, and Asmo’s hopeful smile starts to drop when he thinks you’re ignoring him. After an awkward minute of silence, you sigh and turn your head slightly towards him. “Help you with what?”

He’s not going to give you the chance to change your mind, and he stands up and reaches for your hand. “I’ll show you in the kitchen.”

Asmo steers you towards a barstool in the corner of the kitchen so you can relax while he makes dinner. He has an assortment of ingredients spread out across the counter. The family recipe book is opened to one of your own additions added to the back pages.

“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,” he grins and winks over his shoulder at you. “I’ll cook tonight, and if I get stuck, who better to help than you?” He taps his chin thoughtfully and takes his D.D.D. out of his pocket and hands it to you for safekeeping.

Asmo might not be the most skilled cook among his siblings, but he’s confident enough that he follows your recipe correctly—for the most part. If you didn’t know him better, you would think he was exaggerating his movements and adding commentary to each step to be silly. But you do know Asmo, and you recognize this as his natural playfulness when he does something he enjoys.

Nearly twenty minutes later, there’s splatters of sauce on the front of his apron and he adds more salt and pepper to the pot with a flourish. When he turns his head to check on you, his mouth purses in surprise when the flash on his phone camera lights up the room. He blinks rapidly when he realizes you took a picture.

He jabs the stirring spoon in your direction with a playful glare. “I hope you got my best side,” he jokes. He’s self-conscious about the spices he knows that got in his hair somehow, and there’s something sticky on his cheek.

You slip the phone into your pocket and slide off the stool so you can reach for a clean cloth. You run it under the lukewarm tap for a moment, and your lips twitch into a smile when you wipe away the smear of sauce near his mouth.

“You’re doing great,” you murmur quietly, glancing at the pot simmering on the stove.

“Does it smell good enough to eat?” he asks nervously, and he beams when you nod.

He wraps his arms around you and laughs as he hugs you as tight as he can. He knows the apron is making a mess on your clothes, but he doesn’t care. Neither do you, apparently—you wrap your arms around him after a few moments and hug him back.

─── BEELZEBUB & BELPHEGOR:

Beel walks to his room dejectedly, and not even the bags of treats from Madam Scream's hanging off his arms makes him feel any better.

He invited you to go with him to the pastry shop after school today. He knows you're not eating properly, but that combined with your bleak mood and dull expressions convinces him that there's something wrong beyond not being hungry.

He watched you during meal times every day this week: you shuffled your food around on the plate and didn't eat anything, or you took little nibbles out of something then dropped your fork on the plate with a sigh and left the rest uneaten.

He went to the bakery after school today, alone. Even though he invited you, you said you weren't in the mood and walked home without him. He bought a few boxes of his favourites, and some for his brothers to share, and he bought a half-dozen Blood Velvet cupcakes especially for you.

He knocked on your bedroom door when he got home and told you he had a surprise, but he was met with silence. He heard the faint creak of mattress springs, but you didn't come to the door and you didn't respond. He frowned, but he explained in the cheeriest voice he could muster that he brought you some cupcakes.

“Thanks, you can have 'em, though,” your muffled voice replied through the door.

It’s an understatement to say that Beel is extremely concerned about you.

He walks to the room he shares with his twin. Usually Belphie naps in the attic after school (more often than not, he convinces you to nap with him). It’s a surprise when Beel finds Belphie sitting cross-legged on his bed with his pillow in his lap, and his eyes snap to his brother’s as soon as the door closes.

“They're not eating enough,” Beel tells his twin. He sets aside the boxes of pastries he bought, his appetite and mood completely soured.

“They're not sleeping enough either,” Belphie replies. He doesn't tell Beel about your sleepless nights, but his brothers would have to be blind not to notice your haggard appearance and the dark circles blooming under your eyes. You haven't napped with Belphie in over a week either, and he misses you—but he keeps that complaint to himself.

"What can we do?" Beel asks as he drops heavily on the edge of his bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and runs a hand through his hair.

Belphie is quiet for a moment, and he glances at the boxes of abandoned pastries Beel brought home. "What’s the plan for dinner tonight?"

Beel looks up and scratches the back of his head. "Some of the others are busy so Lucifer said it was a free-for-all night."

(That usually means everyone orders takeout while Beel eats whatever is left in the house himself.)

Belphie stands up and tucks his pillow under one arm while he wanders over to the stack of bakery boxes near the door. He rifles through the bags until he finds the one he's looking for, and he gestures for Beel to follow him. "I have an idea. Come help me in the kitchen."

It’s peaceful in the deepest corner of the House of Lamentation gardens. Even if the others were home, there’s enough distance from the house to offer peace and privacy—it's nice out there.

Belphie thinks a picnic might be relaxing enough for you to enjoy; the hard part is convincing you to join them. The twins are determined and they both go to your room and insist you have dinner with them.

“You have to eat something,” Beel says in a pleading voice, eyes sorrowful with worry for you. It wasn’t quite enough to convince you to get out of bed, but you swallowed around the lump in your throat as your eyes burned with emotion.

Belphie crawled onto the bed next to you, dangling over the edge precariously while he reached for your hand and laced his fingers with yours. “Please,” he whispered, eyes just as sad as his twin’s, “it feels like I haven’t seen you all week. I miss you.”

You can’t possibly say no to both of them, not when Belphie’s face is so close to yours and his lower lip trembles with too much emotion. You know he can be manipulative, but even in your bleary-eyed daze, you realize he’s being unusually honest now.

You wipe away the stray tears that pool in the corner of your eyes and nod your head. Belphie slides off the mattress so Beel can help you up, and they both hug you before they lead you outside. By the time they take you to the garden, you’re all sniffling quietly, but the twins are smiling a bit now, too.

The blanket Belphie lays across the ground keeps you from getting too cold, and you all share portions of the improvised picnic the twins packed: sandwiches, a thermos of warm soup, a container of diced cheese and poison apple slices. You don’t eat as much as the twins do, but they look content that you finished eating everything on the small plate you made for yourself.

Beel offers you one of your cupcakes next. He brought the whole box—optimistic, Belphie said earlier, raising his eyebrows before shrugging and putting the box into the basket.

You sort of remember Beel knocking on your door earlier and asking you if you wanted one, and you know that you refused. You accept one now because you can’t bear to say no to him twice.

When the food is eaten and the dishes cleared away, Belphie lays back on the blanket and gently nudges you to lay beside him. He rolls onto his side and lays his head on your shoulder, and you can see him looking at you from the corner of your eye.

“Have I told you the story about that star?” he asks quietly, pointing towards the sky.

He probably has, considering how much time you both spend in the planetarium together, but you lean your cheek against his brow. “You can tell me again if you want to.”

He tells you the story about that star, and the other stars near it, and when your eyes start to droop heavily with sleep, he smiles and keeps going. He whispers more stories until your breathing slows and you start snoring gently in his ear; he hopes the stories follow you into your dreams.

Beel sits nearby on the large blanket, watching over both of you with a keen eye and soft smile; his belly is warm and full from a pleasant meal and your company. Belphie carefully maneuvers himself to his knees without waking you, and he stands up and stretches out the kink in his neck. Beel stands and lifts you so gently into his arms, and he cradles you to his chest while Belphie hurriedly packs up the picnic basket and blanket.

The house is dark and quiet when they slip back inside, and Belphie leads Beel to your room. They both tuck you in—Belphie pulls back the covers and Beel lays you down and slips off your shoes. Beel squeezes your hand and waits for his twin by your door; Belphie murmurs a final goodnight as he brushes his lips across your forehead.

The twins head back to their room, and all three of you have the best night's sleep you've had in days.

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youryanderedaddy · 4 months

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yan prison guard who hates u but low-key wants to f??

YES?!

tw: female reader, hinted non-con, period cramps, physical neglect, abuse of power, hinted blood play, reader is hinted to be a criminal, starts flirty but ends dead dovey xD My Ko - fi <3

"Shit." You mumble, your back softly resting against the cold wall. You reach for the nearest utenstil on the ground - all metal now, since you broke one too many nice porcelain plates - and throw it against the bars with little consideration to the vomit inducing "food" still left inside. The yellow sauce splashes all over the floor, and you look up, not even bothering to hide your smug expression.

"I could make you lick that up, you know." Darcy states, adding little emotion to his already monotone voice - his eyes glued to the book in his lap and all the tiny little words in it, perfectly pristine fresh ink in the stuffy air. His gloved hands are digging into the paper, almost crumpling it, and you now know that his pale hands are simply incapable of holding anything gently - even the things he actually likes.

"Will you?" You tease, but the warning bells at the back of your mind go off nonetheless, seemingly in spite of your best attempts to come off as playful and not desperate. He rarely jokes around - not exactly the fun type. "I'll decide after I finish this page." Your warden chuckles humorlessly. "Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline." He starts reading aloud, licking his cold lips. "So be earnest..." You can feel his gaze on you, caging you in like a wild animal. "And repent." He finally closes the book. "Revelation 3:19." The blonde repeats quietly, turning his attention back to you - and you realise calling out was a mistake, but now it's too late. He's got you in his clutches.

"My stomach hurts. Tell me, Father Allmighty, is this devine punishment too?" You spit out sarcastically, hugging your knees in order to numb the pain a bit. "Or am I simply on my period?" It's your turn to giggle, although it hurts to do so - anything to mask the unease tugging at your vocal cords every time you're faced with that demon.

His eyes narrow in response, and his fingers circle his nose bridge as he scoffs at you, annoyance quickly spreading across his irritatingly handsome, yet equally sharp features.

"Your voice makes my head throb. Stop it." The guard barks, voice dropping low in warning. Still, you decide to push your luck due to pure and simple physical need. "But it hurts." You let yourself whine, slowly revealing your collarbone - and silently hoping that just this once the sweat will look like glitter. "I don't care." He hisses, picking his book again.

You roll your eyes.

"Alright. Sure. But you'll be the one cleaning the bloody sheets after." You mutter under your breath, crossing your hands. You're not sure what's more frustrating - the way your stomach is trying to eat itself or having to appease a narcissistic maniac with too much power and free time through it. Somewhere in the part of your brain still capable of rational thought you realize you should be provided with basic hygiene products just like all the other female prisoners. What makes you different, you guess, is the fact that you're kept under lock and key almost extensively. Solitary confinement 24 hours a day, except for Darcy.

He brings you food. He helps you bathe - if you've been good enough. He's the only one who knows if you're dead or alive. Hell, he may be the only one who even cares.

"I'm sure cleaning up your mess will be quite exciting." The blonde cracks a tiny, self evident smile only he knows the meaning of - and you would have frowned in disgust if you could still feel that lovely human emotion. "Admit it, you actually like the thought of me bleeding, you little freak." You scrunch your nose at him, then look back to the floor, the filth so thick it almost sticks to your slightly less dirty shoes. "Takes one to know one." Darcy responds nonchalantly, running his hand through his slick white locks.

At that moment the cramps return in full force, your lower abdomen on fire with sharp stabbing pain. You remember some fragmentary tips from your scrappy teen years - you close your eyes and breath in deeply, you bite the inside of your cheek - you even pray to whoever is listening, but it just won't stop. So you bargain.

"You can have it." You say with difficulty, folded in half. Hot tears prick your eyes and you try to fight them, but soon give into the agony. It's such a relief to cry after months of resilience - to break down completely and let your most vulnerable self out.

The warden takes a single steps towards the bars and motions for you to move closer. You crawl to him, your hand supporting your lower belly in the process. He takes a good look at you and slowly, almost gently caresses your face through the metal - eyes suddenly softened by the image of you dancing in the palm of his hand.

If it was anyone else he'd be simply repulsed by this clear display of weakness. If it was another prisoner, another hardened criminal, he'd have no problem following his own principles of zero tolerance - of crushing and breaking their spirit until nothing was left. But it was you and your beatiful, stipid tears that mesmerized him to no end, that haunted his dreams and turned his bloodlust into something a lot more sinister. Something harder to capture, harder to fight - and easier to give into.

"You can have it." You repeated tearfully, rubbing at your soft wet eyelids - completely still. Scared of your own flesh and its betrayal. "My mind, my body, anything. Just please give me some pills. I can't take it." You whimper pitifully, shaking under his watchful eyes. He's holding onto your cheek, but you feel like he's got you in a suffocating embrace. And then just when you're about to kneel down, he unlocks the door to your cell.

"I've been taking your brain apart for months now." Darcy whispers softly, taking off one of his gloves and letting it drop to the floor. He takes another step towards your cowering form. "Your body, on the other hand, is a white canvas." He tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his burning gaze - and the pain fades away instantly, replaced by raw, intense fear. "I wonder what your insides look like. Surely, they're beatiful."

You feel his lips on your neck, followed by the tip of a knife - a butterfly kiss.

#yandere #male yandere #yancore #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere male x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere warden #yandere prison guard

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i23kazu · 1 year

Text

GENSHIN MEN & CUTE THINGS THEY DO FOR YOU.

characters. xiao zhongli kaeya diluc childe alhaitham kaveh x reader genre. romantic fluff an. trying out another format teehee. lowercase intended

xiao.

xiao trains with you every morning. he gets up at 5, with enough self discipline packed in his body to leave the comfortable covers and your embrace. of course, you always end up whining about the sudden lack of warmth, so xiao loves to hold your hand as he kisses your forehead, assuring you that he is always there.

zhongli

zhongli brings you cups of tea when you work. perfectly brewed and steeped to your liking. he knows which cups you like using – the porcelain cup with white brushstrokes on it, because it keeps the tea hot and seemingly never burns off your fingertips when you hold it.

kaeya

kaeya lets you in on secrets from the knights. any hearsay that isn't dangerous will always go to you – simply put, you know all the hottest gossip. donna was hitting on his brother again? oh, but someone yelled at her this time? interesting... kaeya never fails to let you be the first one to hear.

diluc

diluc always has a meal prepared for you when you get home. steaming hot plates of sweet and salty marinated chicken and salted grilled vegetables and dessert are almost an expectation now – he wants you to come home to a big, hearty meal to thank you for all the work that you do.

childe

childe brings you to see his family. they absolutely adore you and you adore them, so it's always a pleasure to see little teucer and not-so-little tonia. his parents love you and treat you like you were their child – they really are just waiting for their cowardly son to pop the question. it's funny to see childe go red in the face when they do that.

alhaitham

alhaitham covers you with blankets whenever he sees you sleeping outside at the study table, books and papers littered around your tired frame. he doesn't want to disturb you from your slumber, so he always makes sure to bring blankets and a soft item for you to lay your head on when you finally rest. he's thankful for that.

kaveh

kaveh brings you to play pranks on alhaitham. you're his accomplice, and as many times as he rolls his eyes, alhaitham knows that he makes a good date idea for the two of you. buckets of flour and water are the most common, along with misplacing the other man's akademiya papers. it always ends with a kiss and an embrace if it succeeds.

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @his-kikufuku @ladyadii @soulsanta @starboygirl @sheiiy @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @laireste @moonbyunniee @lemonswriting @legitnoi @lemontum (send ask to be added to taglist)

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sirenpearldust · 3 months

Text

Butter cookies

Notes: There may be a second part either of their future or before they were separated.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Word count: 1.192

Warnings: fluff

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“You look like an overgrown pigeon standing at my door. Come inside before you startle my neighbours,” she snapped, huffing.

His shadows wandered towards her easing her annoyance over being woken up from her slumber by the deranged bat - who was about to enter her domain.

She adjusted her clothes, embarrassed of wearing a tiny red nightdress in front of him. The white granny cardigan, her attempt of modesty in her hurry to open the door.

Strolling through her living room she opened the curtains, welcoming the sunlight in; unlocking the balcony door the summer breeze cleared the stuffy air.

“You do realise it’s midday,” he chuckled quietly, cutting the white roses before putting them in the blue porcelain vase he’d bought her on her 300th birthday.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t patronise me,“ she dismissed his comment with a wave of her hand.

The summer breeze and the sunlight seemed to have an immediate effect of tranquility. Eyes closed she stood there drinking it all in, her skin glowed healthily.

He observed her, how his shadows engulfed her, noticing their sense of peace in her presence.

Strolling towards her, he admired the view, understanding why she chose this place over Velaris during the winter.

Turning towards him she opened her eyes, narrowing them immediately at him.

“Put the tea kettle on the stove; I want chamomile,“ she commanded.

Following her orders, he smirked and shook his head at her playful demeanour.

“You idiots seem to only remember and visit me when you’re in trouble so count me a bit surprised of your visit. Please don’t ruin my vacation and writing of my new book.“

He only hummed.

Gathering her book scripts she also set aside her watercolours, the shadows cleaned the space on the red sofa by arranging her pillows and folding her soft grey blanket.

Joining him in the kitchen, she took out her homemade sweet butter cookies and pastries, placing them on a plate to share.

Azriel attempted to grab a cookie, only to have his hand smacked. Looking at him with disappointment, she said “500 years and you still haven’t changed any bit from the boy I’ve met back then.“

Laughing, he remembered the time he and the boys successfully stole three entire batches before a party, only escaping her fury and a gruesome death by a whisker.

Carrying the full tray, he settled next to her, spreading his wings comfortably. Taking a butter cookie he swallowed it at once. He grinned at her, but she only shook her head, blowing on her tea before sipping.

“They were always your favourites.“

“Is that why you always keep making them?“

She playfully replied, “Maybe I’m just trying fatten you up, and keep you away from everyone else, all to myself and no one would suspect me.“

Smirking, he said “I don’t think I would stay fat for long in your presence; and considering your track record of attempted murder, I do think you would be the first suspect of my disappearance.” Both laughed at her past attempts of almost strangling Cassian to death for burning her kitchen down. The male was a danger to society causing uproar everywhere he went.

Turning her attention to the view outside, she felt fuzzy at his gaze.

He admired her beauty, his eyes briefly lingered on her revealed skin; quickly averting them to avoid making her uncomfortable.

His shadows started swirling between them noticing both their emotions. They took a palmier(pastry) and ate it to relieve themselves of the tension, as they were just as nervous.

Azriel felt a mix of ease and unease in her presence. Struggling with his own feelings towards her. She made him feel both whole and conflicted, his emotions stronger than ever.

The memory of their first kiss, his initial taste of feeling complete, remained etched in his mind. Without her he felt a sense of loss.

Recollections of her reassurance, gentle touch and guidance, despite her own lack of experience, remained vivid.

She embraced his shadows, knew of his status as a bastard and held his scarred hands without hesitation or prejudice.

Her tenderness towards him gave him a reason to live, a sense of worth.

Had she not made clear that she wasn’t seeking a partner at the time, he might have courted and pursued her hand in marriage.

However, one unexpected night she left by order of the High Lord to return to her family in the Hewn City, leaving him heartbroken.

Attempting to cope, he had drowned his sorrows, ending up in an unkown women‘s bed. His first time he couldn’t recall even after 500 years.

In an effort to move on from her he became infatuated with Morrigan.

Everything except her appearance reminded him of you; her innocence, her connection to the Court of Nightmares, her complicated family affairs, her defiance, her stubbornness and the light in her eyes.

It all reminded him of you, the one still holding his heart.

Noticing his absent-minded stare, she waved a hand in front of his face, bringing him back.

“I asked if you’d like to stay with me for a few days. You deserve a break,“ she insisted.

Concern etched on her face, she pointed out his exhausted appearance ,“look at how much weight you’ve lost, have you been sleeping at all?“

Bringing up his dark eye circles she gripped his chin softly rubbing his stubble.

“You didn’t shave or cut your hair! You look like an exhausted father of five!“

Holding her hand before she could remove it completely, he responded chuckling “you sound like a nagging wife, caring for the father of her five children. I’m a grown male, you don’t have to worry about me, I take care of myself.“

“Don’t downplay my worries. Did the others even notice how exhausted you look? How much work is Rhys giving you?“

Her concerned nagging continued until she caught his gaze at her lips. Her heart was about to pummel out of her chest.

Smirking, she leaned forward, teasing, “Are you listening, Azzie baby?“

His wings shuddered at her proximity and voice. His body moved closer to hers, almost tasting her sweet lips.

The world seemed to pause, their heartbeats echoing as they drew in even closer.

Almost, he almost felt the relief of her lips on his.

A loud knocking interrupted them. Abruptly they separated.

Quickly rising and tightening her cardigan against her body, she walked to her door, where her elderly neighbour awaited her.

Frustrated he groaned rubbing his face, trying to calm his heartbeat as he looked at the ceiling.

His shadows whirred violently and whispered angrily around him as they were anticipating their kiss only for their Faeries to get interrupted.

Hearing the door closing, he watched her. She remained unfazed by what had happened moments prior and approached him explaining the kinds of teas she had been gifted and the invitation she’d gotten.

“Let’s get your hair fixed before we attend, I need a plus one before mothers start throwing their sons at me again.“

Though he groaned, he agreed, his jealousy and protectiveness would not leave her to be pestered or to be taken from him.

“I’m going to my room and get ready.“

At her disappearance, the shadows whispered and gushed of the softness of her hair and skin, her sweet scent, her beautiful eyes and more - their comments never ceased.

#a court of thorns and roses #azriel fluff #azriel angst #azriel #azriel spymaster #night court #velaris #summer court #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #cassian #rhysand #inner circle #hewn city #court of nightmares #azriel shadowsinger

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cinnamostar · 4 months

Text

lotus

pairing : seungmin x gn!reader

summary : how do you save a failing relationship?

wc : 921

cw : established relationships, angst, sadness, a touch of fluff, not proof read

a/n : hehehe ok i ended up getting inspired again! let me know what you guys think!!!! also hehe lotus flowers can represent rebirth/new beginnings btw >:3

wilted petals laid across the counter, the color they once held greying out as the dried edges chipped away over time. the flowers that once blossomed beautifully in its porcelain vase had long died out, the life that once coursed through it left without a trace, leaving behind the depressing, unsightly death of a flower. the few petals that remained clung onto the stem of the flower in a desperate attempt to hold onto life, yet their grip would eventually loosen as it weathered its painstakingly slow demise, signifying the end of its life cycle. their reluctance to let go was pitiful, yet it felt like the bouquet of dying flowers now only mocked you and served as a cruel metaphor of the state of your relationship.

months had gone by, the fiery passion that once ignited the love story you and seungmin wrote had been put out, leaving behind only a trail of ash and soot that covered every inch of your hands. the pages of this novel was slowly ripping at its seams, the book thinning out as you desperately thumbed through it, praying to find a clue on how to rekindle this dying romance. except your touch would leave behind cinders on each page, the words you hopelessly searched through now becoming illegible.

you both had become complacent, completely forgoing the smallest details of maintaining a healthy relationship which ultimately whittled down the foundation of your love. the cracks had become more apparent, the soullessness behind each action was undeniable, and you were both becoming exasperated as you tried to keep up appearances to one another, not willing to admit there was a growing issue that needed to be addressed. they say ignorance is bliss, but the tension between you two hung heavily and was gradually drowning you, and it was about time for one of you break to the surface to catch your breath.

tonight, you and seungmin were sitting across each other at the dinner table, quietly eating the take out food you ordered. it was upsettingly silent, not a single exchange of words and only the sound of your utensils scrapping against your plates could be heard.

what was the point of this anymore? why had you both accepted this new norm without a fight? had you both become use to each others presence? were you both too afraid to face the possibility of loneliness? did he even still love you?

these questions had occupied your mind for months, the number of them growing as the aching feeling your heart once suffered from had slowly become numbing.

should you say something? right now? interrupt the faux peace that you two had become accustomed to?

maybe, maybe not. it was all too daunting to not know where that conversation would leave, but you also no longer wanted to live with never ending misery. something had to be done.

“do you still love me?” you whisper, your voice quivering with trepidation, bracing yourself for his response.

seungmin looks up from his meal, his piercing gaze meeting yours, uncertainty and fear in hiding behind his stoic expression. he lets out a heavy huff, nodding his head as he took in your words, “of course i do. do you still love me?”

“yes, always,” you respond, your face softening at his confirmation, “but… what happened to us?”

he didn’t need you to further explain yourself, the few words you spoke carried the weight of your sadness as he reflected on the state of your deteriorating relationship. “im not sure,” he sighs, “im sorry.”

you swallow thickly as a lump of your emotions manifests in your throat, “im sorry too,” tears begin to prick your eyes, “what do we do?”

“i don’t know.”

“i don’t know either.”

the uncomfortable, familiar silence returns in its place as you each gaze longingly at the other. what was there to do? there was no guide book on how to salvage the skeleton of a relationship, the tendrils of love thinning out as they weakly held your hearts together.

seungmin clears his throat, as if to disperse the tensity in the atmosphere, “do you want to keep trying?”

you bit the inside of your cheek anxiously, “i do, but what if it doesn’t work out?”

“then at least we can say we tried our best,” he hums, mindlessly poking his food with his fork, “i wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if i didn’t try.”

“okay,” you nod meekly, “let’s try again.”

“when was the last time i took you out on a date?” he asks, pain evident in his voice upon making this realization.

“i don’t even remember,” you tearfully answer, looking away from seungmin’s eyes as his began to glaze over with anguish.

“i see,” he whispers to himself with a sniffle, “let’s start there then.” he forces a weak smile, feebly holding onto the bit of hope he rediscovered, “let’s remember why we fell in love in the first place, okay? let’s go to the ice cream shop we went on for our first date tomorrow. how does that sound?”

you look back at him, a touched smile that sent butterflies down seungmin’s abdomen, a smile he didn’t realize how much he missed, “i’d like that very much.”

the very next day, when you woke up to get ready for your date, the withering flowers had be replaced with flourishing lotus flowers. a small note scrawled with seungmin’s handwriting laid next to it:

here’s to a new beginning. i love you.

#cinnamostar writes #seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids seungmin #skz angst #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz scenarios #skz seungmin #skz seungmin x reader #stray kids seungmin x reader

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luviemax · 4 months

Text

bookstore girl- ln4 oneshot

a/n: inspo from this song :D

masterlist

-> lando norris x female!reader (no physical descriptions)

warnings: none really, just lando being super whipped tbh NOT PROOFREAD :(

word count: 809 words

He doesn't read.

Pratically everyone in the paddock knows that for a hard and solid fact, Lando Norris' many hobbies does not include reading.

He plays golf. He occasionally streams on Twitch. When he's really desperate, which doesn't really happen with his full plate, he bothers Max. Plus, most of the time, he's occupied with organising and planning for more Quadrant content.

But Lando's never found himself with this much free time. He's so free that he has practically no clue as to what he should do. He's travelled back home to the UK for Christmas. Now that the festive season has slowly come to its end, the streets are more dreary, lacking all the festive decorations and the cheer which once veiled the streets. Lando notices that everything is significantly less empty now, and supposes that everyone's gone back to work.

Carlos thinks that Lando is a hothead.

Lando doesn't agree. In fact, he was in such intense opposition of this opinion that he refused to speak to Carlos for two days. However, this argument is long forgotten; it did happen at least 2 years back anyway, when they were still teammates at McLaren. But Lando still remembers how Carlos recommended for him to start reading more often to hopefully get a grip of himself. He never really considered it, up until now, simply because he has the opportunity, but also because he's just come across a quaint little bookstore.

When he opens the front door, the first thing he notices is how warm it is.

Not hot, like how the Qatar Grand Prix was, but warm, like a hug from his dad. Like coming home from a 3 week long stint. He'd never been a big reader, but immediately he'd felt at home in that bookstore. He smiled back at the elderly man behind the counter, and began to browse the selection of books available.

By the time he was done, he'd decided that he would buy a few books. Just testing the waters, Lando thinks to himself. That's when he sees you for the first time. You're talking to the man at the counter.

You're postively gorgeous.

Your hair angelically frames your face. A wide grin crosses your face, but Lando swears that even with a scowl, he swears you could still look gorgeous.

He thinks that you're the most beautiful girl he's ever seen, and it takes every ounce of his attention to ensure that he doesn't drop the stack of books in his arms, simply stunned by your presence.

But before he can catch you, you're in wind.

The chime of the bell rings behind you as you close the door, and Lando swears that he's never been more devastated in his entire life.

He walks home, and he feels down the entire day. He didn't even manage to get your name. And yet, something as mundane as your name feels like a sacred artifact to behold. If he's even able to get your name, he swears that he'll protect it. Hold it in his hands like a fragile piece of porcelain. Shield it from the prying eyes on the public and the screaming voices of the paddock.

But no.

That isn't possible, because he doesn't even know your name.

He sleeps like a baby that night, dreaming of your face, what he'd think your voice would sound like, what he thinks that you would feel like safe in his arms, and it feels like a douse of cold water when he finally wakes up from his slumber.

His friends, Max, Carlos, Oscar... they hear of you. Non-stop. In fact, they're kind of tired of Lando, and have taken to ignoring him, because he won't stop going on and on about the beautiful girl he saw in the bookstore. They don't hear the end of it for a few hours.

By chance, 2 days later, he sees you in the cafe.

It was purely coincidental.

You'd never left Lando's mind. He did stop nagging his friends about you, mostly because they got annoyed at him, but he came back to reality with a rude awakening.

Really, how likely was it for the two of you to cross paths again? Especially in these few golden days back home, before Lando would return to Monaco.

But hey, always dream of the unthinkable, right?

You're working on your laptop, eyebrows knitted together in intense concentration. He thinks it's cute.

Lando delibrately sits to the table next to yours, and whips out one of the books he'd bought the other day from the quaint little bookstore. You briefly glance at him through your peripheral vision, before you're making a delighted expression and excitedly chatting to him about his book.

By the end of your impromptu coffee session with Lando, he's pretty sure that you were made for him.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #f1 x reader #ln4 #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris smut

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elyssialumengard · 2 months

Text

Alastor x Reader : Fragile Link ( Part 2 )

______________________________________________

Link to the first part for those who haven't read it :

https://www.tumblr.com/elyssialumengard/741783404758073344/alastor-x-reader-fragile-link-part-1?source=share

Summary : In this chapter, Charlie presents his redemption hotel project to (y/n), an powerful overlord. Alastor, with his own motives, tries to persuade (y/n) to become involved in their confrontation against Adam.

______________________________________________

Taku knocked a second time, but the silence remained implacable.

Tangible anxiety flashed across his face as he prepared to strike a third time, softly saying :

- My Lady, may I come in ?

Getting no response, he made a face that the two people behind him did not see. Charlie frowned at Alastor, wondering what was going on. The radio demon tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing, wondering why (y/n) was slow to respond, when usually, she was so responsive. He could sense her presence, so it wasn't due to a mistake in location.

The demon, under the overlord's orders, did not hesitate to not ask permission, instead deciding to carefully push open the door. He entered, Charlie and Alastor on his heels, where the blonde was amazed by the clean layout of the place.

The room was bathed in soft, calming light that filtered through the thin curtains, letting in the golden rays of the artificial sun. The walls were painted in light tones, accentuating the brightness of the room and creating a warm atmosphere. Delicately framed paintings adorned the walls, bringing an artistic touch to the whole.

At the back of the room, a solid wooden desk was placed, on which were placed a kettle, a selection of fine teas in pretty metal boxes, delicately decorated porcelain cups, as well as small biscuits arranged on a plate.

Two plush sofas were placed opposite each other in the center, separated by a glass coffee table on which were a few magazines and a vase filled with fresh flowers. The elegantly patterned cushions added a touch of color and comfort to the seating.

Shelves full of books stretched along one of the walls, offering a varied selection of reading material for all tastes. Potted plants were scattered here and there, bringing greenery and freshness to the room.

In this welcoming and peaceful environment, (y/n) stood near a window, her back, silently contemplating the landscape through the glass, absorbed in her thoughts.

Approaching with growing concern, Taku called out to him again. Hearing this time, (y/n) gracefully pivoted towards them, revealing her strangely angelic appearance, which always disconcerted those who saw her for the first time.

Her hair, as white as fresh snow, flowed in silky cascades around her face, framing delicate, celestial features. His gaze, both gentle and penetrating, could have probed the deepest souls. Slight wrinkles framed her eyes, testifying to the countless trials she had endured. Fine deer antlers stood on the top of his head, rather large, extending back, adorned with light beads that had been made for her decades ago.

She was wrapped in a long taupe gray t-shirt, loose and flowing, the long sleeves of which fell almost delicately over her slender hands. The hem of the garment caressed the bottom of her buttocks while she had taken care to slip the front into her straight black fabric pants, thus defining her silhouette. A navy blue belt, carefully adjusted, captured the whole in subtle harmony. On her feet, sandals matching the color of the belt, with black wedge heels, seemed to extend the slender line of her legs.

Despite the apparent casualness of her outfit, she emanated an aura of dignity and serenity, giving her presence a natural nobility and captivating maturity.

Yet, despite the brilliance of her beauty and the imposing aura that surrounded her, an enigmatic fragility seemed to emanate from her, as if the burden of the entire world rested on her proud shoulders. Silent tears beading from her white eyelashes, sliding slowly down her cheeks, leaving in their wake sparkling traces on the porcelain of her skin.

Faced with this heartbreaking vision, Charlie's heart ached with empathy. She could almost feel the pain and suffering emanating from (y/n), even though she didn't know her.

Ignoring Charlie and Alastor, (y/n) walked towards Taku who was walking towards her. Their gestures betrayed a deep and ancient familiarity. She held out a trembling hand, which Taku took tenderly, placing his other hand on her hip for support.

Tears continued to fall down (y/n)’s cheeks as she begged for comfort.

- Taku... I am gripped by doubt and torment... Did I make the right decision ? Was I right to act this way ? She whispered in a broken voice. My heart breaks thinking that another member of my family will suffer loneliness and fear because of the consequences of my actions.

Taku looked at her affectionately, his hand gently stroking hers to comfort her.

- You acted according to your duty. He replied in a soothing voice. Lynn broke established laws. It has threatened the balance that you have so ardently preserved. You had no choice but to punish him.

An encouraging smile appeared on Taku's lips, trying to ease his mistress' pain.

- Your wisdom and prudence have protected our family and our territory. Don't let the burden of your decisions torment you. We are all at your side, aware of the rules, ready to support your choices, however difficult they may be.

(y/n) closed her eyes, feeling the tears continue to fall down her cheeks despite her efforts to hold them back.

- I know, Taku... I realize that none of you hated me for that, that I did what had to be done, but... But that doesn't lessen the pain. She whispered, letting out a sigh of sorrow.

Taku, still close to her, dried her tears delicately, his fingers tenderly caressing her skin. He moved even closer, trying to offer her whatever comfort he could in this moment of torment and vulnerability, no longer caring at all about the guests.

Observing this touching scene, Charlie was overcome by an emotion mixed with surprise and fascination. She didn't expect such intimacy between Taku and (y/n), but she couldn't help but find it magnificent, given the evidence of the deep attachment between them.

While as far as Alastor was concerned, he felt a surge of rage wash over him, his fingers tightening around the top of his cane with increasing intensity. His sinister smile widened, tinged with a dark glow as he observed this lesser demon, acting as if he was entitled to such closeness.

A shadow passed through his eyes, mixing jealousy and desire for possession.

- Remember this, my Lady. Your wisdom has always brought us serenity and protection. Your decisions were dictated by necessity and prudence. He continued in a soothing voice, trying to ease her pain.

(y/n) listened carefully to her advisor's comforting words, her expression relaxing slightly under his influence. However, when she heard the crackles of the radio growing louder in the room, her eyes suddenly widened, recognizing the sound with a disturbing certainty.

- Alastor, I advise you to control your emotions. Taku intervened, diverting his attention to the demon. I did not grant you an audience here, with my Lady, for you to cause trouble.

Alastor bit back a growl, his stag horns growing slightly in response to his growing frustration.

- I'm not the one who starts the trouble, my dear Taku. He replied, his gaze burning with a dark glow. But no matter, I wouldn't want to spoil your little intimate moment with your precious overlord. He added acerbically, his pupils narrowing, leaving more room for the black of his eyes.

Before Taku could respond, a bitter cold suddenly filled the room, dropping the temperature several degrees and obscuring the surrounding light. (y/n)'s silver eyes glowed menacingly as she stared at Alastor with an icy intensity, filled with hatred and menace.

Detaching itself slightly from Taku, (y/n)'s aura transformed into a terrifying presence, imbuing the room with a heavy and sinister atmosphere. His antlers grew larger as did his shadow which expanded, morphing into a tight grip around Alastor's body, immobilizing him. All this happened in barely the blink of an eye. Alastor's mischievous smile froze, becoming more awkward as he tried to keep his composure.

Charlie, panicked, let out a little cry of fear when she saw Alastor in danger. (y/n) walked towards him with determined steps, her piercing gaze staring at him intensely. Once in front of him, the same size, she addressed him in a cold voice :

-What are you here for, radio demon ?

Aware of the palpable threat in the air, Alastor responded with feigned confidence :

- Just to chat, my dear overlord. I come as a friend, as always.

- As friends ? She replied, an icy glint in her eyes. You have no friends here. You only have enemies waiting for the right moment to destroy you.

A shiver ran down Alastor's spine, but he kept his composure, his sinister smile stretching slightly across his face.

- Oh, but my dear, it's a shame. I'm sure we could get along if you gave me a chance.

(y/n) stared at him with contempt.

- You don't belong here, Alastor. And if you even think for a moment about sowing chaos in my territory, know that I will make you regret every second of your existence.

When Alastor should have fought back or tried to defend himself, a subtle observation revealed to him an unsuspected truth, escaped everyone's attention. The shadow's hold on him, although similar to that of his memories, was not as stifling or threatening as he had thought. He felt within himself the possibility of freeing himself from it, if he really wanted to. Staring intently at the face of the woman he had come to meet, he noticed that the tears had stopped flowing, giving way to an expression valiantly fighting against fatigue.

Smiling even more, he decided to lighten the atmosphere with his usual sarcastic humor.

- Let's see, my dear, you take me for a more belligerent demon than I really am. He said, giving a mocking smile. I'm here on a much more interesting matter than causing chaos. Actually, I'm here to introduce you to someone !

(y/n) arched an eyebrow, her expression hardening even further.

-And who is this person you are talking about ? She asked in a biting voice.

Alastor let out a small laugh, turning to Charlie with a theatrical nod.

- Allow me to introduce you to Princess Charlie Morningstar, heir to the throne of Hell and the founder of the Hazbin Hotel !

Charlie, feeling a little uncomfortable under (y/n)'s unforgiving gaze, gave her a shy smile and bowed slightly.

- Hey… Nice to meet you, Lady (y/n). She said in a calm but respectful voice.

( y/n ) looked away from Alastor to stare at Charlie, his expression softening slightly. She observed the young princess with a mixture of curiosity and evaluation, taking the time to look her over from head to toe, making her slightly uncomfortable, feeling as if the one who was taller than her she probed the depths of his soul.

- Charlie Morningstar… She whispered, repeating the name as if to engrave it in her memory.

As (y/n) scrutinized Charlie with growing interest, a resolve seemed to arise within her. With a graceful gesture of her hand, she dispelled the shadow that still enveloped Alastor, thus freeing the demon from his yoke. The temperature of the room and its brightness returned to their natural balance, while (y/n)'s deer antlers returned to their initial size.

(y/n), now more relaxed, conformed to the rules of etiquette, respecting them. A gracious smile graced her lips as she gave Charlie a salutation of gracious solemnity, bowing her head slightly in respect.

- The pleasure is shared, Princess Charlie. She replied in a soft but confident voice, getting up. It is an honor to welcome you to my modest home. Please forgive me for the vulnerable and aggressive version of myself that you may have encountered. Under no circumstances should she be present in the presence of royalty such as yours.

Charlie was pleasantly surprised by the sudden change in (y/n)'s attitude, feeling more comfortable in her presence. She bowed respectfully in gratitude, acknowledging the courtesy of the Overlord of Hell, not being used to being shown so much respect.

(y/n) then turned towards the couches, inviting Charlie to sit down.

- Please sit down, Princess Charlie, you must be tired from all this walking. She declared in a friendly voice, gesturing elegantly to the sofa.

Charlie nodded politely and sat down, his gaze following Alastor who stood behind the back of the sofa, his teasing smile still hanging on his lips. Meanwhile, (y/n) sent a command to Taku.

- Taku, please prepare some tea for our guest. She ordered in a calm but authoritative voice, as she sat down her turn, opposite Charlie who was standing straight, playing with his fingers.

Taku nodded silently, bowing slightly before walking over to where the teapot and cups were set out. He prepared the tea with silent skill, discreetly observing his enemy out of the corner of his eye.

As for Alastor, he remained unfazed by the presence of the one he would like to see dead, his expression still teasing, his gaze sparkling with undisguised malice as he observed the scene with palpable amusement.

Once the tea was ready, Taku approached Charlie and handed him a cup with a respectful gesture.

- Your tea, Princess Charlie. He announced in a neutral voice, placing it in front of her on the table, before serving (y/n), who thanked him with a warm but moderate smile.

Charlie thanked him with a grateful smile and took the cup carefully, feeling the comforting warmth of the liquid against his fingers. She took a small sip, savoring the soothing taste of the tea. (y/n) observed him with a slight smile, then suddenly declared, breaking the silence that had fallen :

- If I may say so, you look exactly like your father, Lucifer.

Charlie, astonished, looked at her in surprise.

- Do you know my father ? She asked with a hint of disbelief, unsure of what to think.

(y/n) nodded slightly.

- We met on a few rare occasions. She replied in a calm voice, full of reflection. But I must admit that I don't particularly hold it in my heart. Although I understand that he is overwhelmed by the illness of depression, especially since the departure of Lilith, your mother, I firmly believe that a king, even if he did not choose this destiny, must above all think to his subjects and be ready to sacrifice himself for them. Unfortunately, your father doesn't always seem to understand this, letting innocent people perish every year and condemning all sinners indiscriminately.

A nervous laugh escaped Charlie's lips at this unexpected revelation, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, trying to hide his growing confusion. Another heavy silence settled in the room, (y/n) doing everything to ignore the presence of Alastor, who reveled in his reaction.

After taking a sip, the hostess asked in a friendly but curious voice :

-And if not, can you inform me of your coming here, princess ? I must admit that I never imagined such a thing happening.

Charlie felt a surge of intense excitement course through her body as she jumped to her feet, the surge in her voice ready to burst into song to introduce her hotel of redemption. Her eyes glowed with palpable determination as she prepared to share her vision with those in the room.

- Oh uh yes ! Let me introduce you to my hotel that rehabilitates fishermen ! She began in a vibrant, almost musical voice. A place where the most lost souls can find redemption and inner peace.

His momentum was abruptly interrupted by the authoritarian voice of (y/n), which ended his tirade :

- There is no room for songs here, princess. Please forgive me for interrupting you, but I believe that there is a time for everything, including songs. If this is serious, you can present things differently.

Charlie, disappointed by the abrupt interruption of her creative momentum, sat up slowly, stammering an excuse. Alastor raised an eyebrow and said in a voice tinged with sarcasm :

- Are you sure about that, (y/n) ?

Ignoring Alastor's remarks and the hostile glances exchanged between him and Taku, (y/n) focused on Charlie, noticing his growing state of stress. Telling herself that his condition was because of her, with natural grace, she offered him a soothing smile and said softly :

- There's no reason to stress, princess, I didn't want to upset you. However, I can't stand the music anymore.

Hearing this, Alastor's smile became colder and more sarcastic. Charlie, looking at the woman in front of her, sighed, her shoulders slumping. She still had a hard time realizing that she was here, sharing tea with the person she considered an example to follow. As a result, she could not hold back from sharing her adoration for the overlord.

- You know, I've always heard about you. Rumors say that you are almost as powerful as my father, but that you have chosen a different path. A path of compassion and helping others.You have made pacts with sinners, protecting them and guiding them through the troubled waters of life. It's incredible. Everyone talks about you, but we never see you. You might almost think you're a legend. And yet here I am, facing you, realizing that you are very real. I admire you so much. It's like meeting my idol. Your strength, your generosity... It's inspiring. I mean, who else could boast of having (y/n) as an ally ? That's... That would just be amazing.

As Charlie's excitement began to skyrocket again, (y/n) gave him a kind look and said gently, touched by his words :

- Calm down, princess. Thank you for your admiration. Breathe, I am fully listening to you.

Charlie, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, outlined his plan with frankness tinged with nervousness. She honestly admitted that it was her fault that the purge had been brought forward six months, explaining that in a month Adam and the exterminators would come to see them first. Unable to hide her anxiety, she admitted that she did not know what to do in the face of this critical situation.

-And so… Alastor brought me here to get your help, apparently. She added, casting an uncertain look at Alastor.

( y/n ), staring skeptically at Alastor for the first since this exchange, raised an eyebrow, expressing doubt about the demon's intentions. In a calm but direct voice, she asked him :

- Do you really think you'll help Charlie with his hotel ? Do you believe in this idea of redemption ?

Alastor replied with a hint of amusement in his voice :

- Ah, my dear (y/n), believe in redemption ? It’s like believing in Santa Claus ! However, I see Charlie's little project as an entertainment opportunity. And maybe, who knows, a few souls to collect for eternity. But don't get me wrong, I'm here to save his project, it shouldn't be broken too quickly. I was even the one who chose the name of the brand, the “Hazbin Hotel”!

Faced with Alastor's response, Charlie felt disappointed and blasé, her face betraying her displeasure. She had hoped to find a sincere ally in him, but his words had reminded her of the dark and detached nature of the one who accompanied her today.

(y/n), turning to Taku with a serious look, asked him if the information provided by Alastor was true. Taku nodded soberly, confirming that according to his informants, the stated facts were accurate. (y/n) bowed his head slightly in recognition towards Taku before turning back to Charlie.

- I see… And what do you want from me, princess ?

Alastor spoke up to propose a solution to the situation.

- You know, (y/n), with your power and your army of fishermen, you could put an end to all this. You could even come to the aid of other potential members of what you insist on calling your “family”. He said in a convinced tone, looking at his nails, keeping a straight posture, not wanting to slump against the backrest even if he wanted to, wanting to keep a good face in front of her.

In a gesture of controlled serenity, (y/n) gently raised her hand to interrupt him, before falling gracefully on his knee. Closing her eyes briefly, she gathered her thoughts before responding in a calm but resolute voice :

- I understand your point of view, but I refuse to put the members of my family in danger for a matter that does not directly concern them. Here we are safe.

(y/n)'s reply, although delivered with apparent confidence, does not quite succeed in convincing Alastor, accustomed to detecting chinks in the armor of his interlocutors. He had subtly noticed the change in expression on the overlord's face. A smirk tugged at his thin lips, his eyes sparkling with biting amusement as he prepared to further explore the cracks in (y/n)'s confidence.

- You sure about that ? He asked, his voice softly tinged with a veiled threat. Think about it my dear. Things change, alliances break, and even your fishermen could find themselves caught in the tumult of this impending war.

He remained silent for a moment, letting his words permeate the atmosphere, then he continued in a calm but incisive tone :

- Imagine for a moment that Adam's forces are getting closer. Do you really think they will stop indefinitely at the gates of your pocket dimension ? That your precious fishermen will be spared from their fury ? No, my dear (y/n), your security is only an illusion in this constantly moving world. And if you refuse to act now, you may bitterly regret it when the flames of war lick the walls of your refuge.

He paused, letting his words resonate in (y/n)'s mind, before concluding with a sardonic smile :

- Of course, I do not underestimate your ability to protect your domain. But it's always good to consider all possibilities, even the darkest ones. After all, prudence is the mother of safety, right ?

Alastor knew how to tug on the heartstrings of high-ranking demons like (y/n). He used his charisma and sharp rhetoric to sow doubt in the overlord's mind, giving her a different perspective on the situation and pushing her to consider more aggressive actions to protect her rule and honor.

Before Charlie could intervene with his own arguments, Taku, faithful servant, spoke in a respectful but determined tone.

- My Lady. He began in a voice full of devotion. I understand the arguments made by this nuisance, but I implore you, do not let fear and uncertainty dictate your actions. You are the force that unites us, the light that guides our steps in the darkness. Your prudence is our shield against the chaos that always threatens to engulf us. Yes, times are uncertain and threats are many, but it is precisely in these times that your leadership is most crucial. Acting in haste, under the influence of fear, would only hasten our downfall. Let us remain faithful to our strategy, to our vision of the future. With your wisdom and wise judgment, we will overcome whatever challenges come our way. Because if you choose to engage in this confrontation, you risk losing more than you could gain. Your place is here, alongside yours, to protect our home and guide our destiny. Don't let the words of a manipulative demon sow doubt in your mind. We trust you, my Lady. And as long as you stay strong, so will we.

His hand, resting confidently on (y/n)'s shoulder, testified to his unwavering support, while he awaited his suzerain's decision with respectful patience, trusting in her wisdom and in her ability to make the best decisions for them.

(y/n) turned her gaze towards Taku, letting her face rest on her hand which was placed next to her on the backrest, fighting against the wave of sadness which invaded her at the thought of Lynn, that she had punished for a recent transgression. Alastor, carefully scanning the scene, felt a pang of annoyance as he noticed the proximity between them, a proximity that bothered him more than he cared to admit.

However, her attention was diverted by something that seemed to escape the others, when she raised her arm slightly, to take Taku's hand which was on her shoulder. Another curious and interesting detail, which added to the confirmation of his suspicions. (y/n) raised his face towards Charlie, letting go of his advisor's hand, placing his arm back at his side. In a gentle voice, she expressed her regrets.

- I'm sorry, princess, but I can't help you in this matter. She declared with compassion. I can't afford to put any member of my family in danger, let alone drag them into this.

However, she offered Charlie a glimmer of hope by adding :

- However, if your hotel survives, I will be happy to support you by visiting your establishment. I could then assess whether it truly constitutes a safe haven for those who seek redemption under your protection.

This compromise seemed to assuage Charlie's disappointment, giving him an encouraging outlook for the future of his project. She couldn't hold back her joy and literally jumped with contentment, her eyes shining with excitement.

- You are serious ? Really ? She exclaimed, both surprised and delighted by the powerful overlord's proposal.

(y/n) nodded gently, a kind smile stretching her lips.

- Yes I am. If your hotel manages to offer a path to redemption, then some members of my family may feel drawn to that possibility. And as a worthy leader, it is my duty to help them as best I can. She declared with dignity, thus expressing her noble vision of responsibilities.

Charlie's eyes lit up even more, splashed with a mixture of admiration and gratitude.

- It's incredible ! Thank you so much, (y/n) ! You won't regret it, I promise ! She exclaimed, letting her gratitude and determination to make her project a success shine through.

Sensing Charlie's imminent departure, (y/n) smiled slightly, appreciating his enthusiasm and determination.

- I wish you good luck, princess. Do your best to save your hotel. She told him sincerely, recognizing the passion that animated the young woman.

Charlie, moved by these words, bowed respectfully to (y/n) like a fan to an idol.

- Thank you, thank you very much ! I will not disappoint you ! I will do everything to find a solution to save him, you will see ! She promised passionately before heading towards the exit, carrying with her a mixture of excitement and newfound enthusiasm, not caring if Alastor followed her or not.

Alastor remained still, staring at (y/n) with a mixture of interest and challenge in his glowing gaze. Taku, seeing that the conversation was coming to an end, turned to Alastor with a cold and bitter expression, suggesting in a scathing tone :

- It's time for you to go, demon. Your presence is no longer required.

But Alastor didn't seem to react to Taku's words, keeping his attention entirely focused on (y/n). He let out a little sarcastic laugh, before announcing in a quiet voice but full of innuendo :

- In fact, I intend to talk a little more with (y/n).

She turned her attention to him, with a neutral air, while he announced :

-And one-on-one this time.

______________________________________________

Author's note : Well, I guess there will be a part 3, right ? I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it, and that (y/n)'s character captivated you. Stay tuned for the next part !

#alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #radio demon #vivziepop

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gunwookies · 1 year

Text

cute things zb1 does in a relationship

pairing: zb1 x gn! reader genre: fluff! suggestive at hao's, lil angsty at taerae's warnings: slightly cringey word count: 3.5k notes: I tried to write every character based on my interpretation of the members! also for yujin's I assumed the reader goes to school since he does too.

jiwoong:

he always makes sure that you are well fed!

jiwoong always asks you if you’ve eaten. just like he cares so much about his health, he cares so much about your health! when you’re stressed you often forget to eat so he’s the one that always makes sure your tummy is full! he lovesss to cook for you! when you come home from work tired, he knows that food is the way to your heart. so he always welcomes you home with a plate of rice or a bowl of soup ready to listen to you talk about your day. if you’re too tired he’ll even feed you because he finds you so cute.

you unlock your apartment door, trudging through. your nose is hit with the strong smell of garlic and chili oil. your eyes find their way towards the kitchen, where jiwoong’s back is facing you as he spoons some bibimbap into a porcelain bowl.

“you’re home?” jiwoong asks, his back still facing you as he finishes preparing the food. you smile to yourself as his voice gives you the comfort you’d been longing for all day. you drop your bags on the couch as you head towards the kitchen. you wrap your arms around jiwoong’s waist, snuggling your cheek into his back. you feel jiwoong slightly giggle and look up to see the cute crinkle of his eyes. “are you tired?” he asked, looking down at you over his shoulder.

“mhm,” you affirmed. he turned around to face you, your arms still around his waist. his hands reached your face, fingers cupping your cheeks as he placed a small peck on your forehead. his fingers lightly caress your ears as he places his forehead against yours.

“how about you have some of this bibimbap i made you and then we can watch a movie and cuddle? yeah?” he whispers. you nodded enthusiastically before stealing a quick peck on his lips.

zhang hao:

constantly praises and compliments you

hao is your number one fan and he always wants you to remember that. he literally cannot go an hour without praising you. he’ll randomly stop you when you’re walking together down the street to just tell you how beautiful you look. as soon as you wake up next to him, hair all messy and face puffy, he doesn’t hesitate to tell you how attractive you are as he looks straight into your eyes. he loves seeing how shy you get at his words, but even more how you gain confidence when you are around him. he definitely feels pride from having such an amazing partner as you.

you wrapped a towel around your body as you stepped out of the shower. hao had booked a dinner reservation for the both of you as it was your three year anniversary. you were so excited as today was such a special day and you were ready to spend it with your boyfriend in such a romantic way. as you walked out of the bathroom, you saw hao leaning against the bedframe, scrolling on his phone. his gaze raised as he saw you from the corner of his eyes. a small smirk formed on his lips as his eyes were glued on your frame. he shoved his phone into his pocket as he walked towards you. you didn’t pay him any mind as you walked towards your closet, looking for something to wear. as you stood in front of your clothes, you felt hao’s arms snake around your waist.

“you look so beautiful, right now,” he whispered, placing a small kiss on your neck. he continued to place kisses all across your neck and shoulders.

“come on, hao. i need to get dressed.”

“but you just look so gorgeous like this. i can’t believe i get to see this beauty with my own two eyes,” he whispers into your ear, before he places a kiss there. you turn around, hiding your blushing face into his neck.

“we’re gonna be late.”

“ i think we should just stay home and do… other things,” he smiled innocently. and of course, you could only agree.

hanbin:

loves to spoil you

hanbin just loves to see you happy, especially when he’s the reason. and he’ll do anything to achieve that. he always notices the twinkle in your eyes when you see something you want. he doesn’t even think twice about buying it for you, because he just want to see you happy like that. you never even ask for anything but hanbin just always knows exactly what you want. even just going to the convenience store, he always brings something for you. even when you don’t ask for anything. more than anything, he loves giving you meaningful gifts. like how he once gifted you a weighted blanket because you complained that you weren’t sleeping well.

you rushed down the stairs of your apartment, still in your pjs. hanbin had texted you that he was outside of your apartment. you were completely confused as you had just seen each other for breakfast this morning. but it was still an opportunity to see your favorite person, so you were delighted. as you walked outside in the windy cold, you noticed hanbin leaning against a tree. he broke into a sweet smile as his eyes met yours. you walked towards him and noticed his hands hidden behind his back.

“hey, love,” he smiled as you reached him. you waddled in front of him, placing a peck on his lips. you noticed how his arms didn’t even reach to touch you as you kissed him. you looked down to see he was holding something in his hands. hanbin noticed your gaze and hesitantly stretched his arms towards you. flowers. he bought you a bouquet of flowers. you broke into a smile, noticing how they were your favorite flowers, camelia flowers.

“what is this for?” you asked, as you grabbed the bouquet, placing it against your chest.

“i just saw them as i was walking home and i had to get them for you. pretty flowers for such a pretty person,” he said, smiling shyly, his ears growing red. you giggled, leaning into his embrace.

“thank you, hanbinnie,” you muttered, kissing his cheek.

matthew:

he loves taking pictures of you

matthew just loves admiring your beauty. anytime he can, he just takes out his phone and snaps a picture of you. he especially loves doing it in secret. whenever he wakes up before you in the morning, he loves to sneak pictures of you sleeping because you just look so peaceful and beautiful. he even has a picture album named after you where he just has pictures of you. whenever you guys go on dates he always makes sure to take a picture of you, wether it be from across the table or in front of a beautiful scenery. whenever you’re not with him, he’ll go through the photo album and smile at the beauty.

you walked hand-in-hand with your boyfriend over a bridge that overlooked the han river.

“aw, come on! i was not that awkward,” matthew whined as he recalled the day he confessed to you.

“matthew, you were stuttering and you couldn’t even look me in the eyes,” you giggled, leaning your head on his shoulder. it was true, you had never seen matthew look so nervous until that day three years ago.

“okay, i definitely was nervous. but, you can’t blame me. i liked you so much that i probably wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if you rejected me.” you giggled, pinching his cheek. you settled back into comfortable silence as your eyes wandered around your surroundings.

“the river looks so beautiful with all the lights reflecting on it like that,” you noticed, stopping to stare.

“it really does look beautiful. here, go stand there. let me take a picture,” mathew says, taking out his phone. you walked over towards the edge of the bridge, standing awkwardly in front. you didn’t really know what to do so you just threw up a peace sign as you always did. “come on, y/n. you can do better than that,” matthew says. “you should look at my instagram for inspo,” he grinned behind the camera. you giggled, before throwing your hands back into the peace signs. what you didn’t know is that matthew was able to capture that beautiful smile of yours. “you look so cute!” he praised as he looked at the pictures he took.

taerae:

takes care of you even when he’s mad at you

you’re taerae’s number one moodmaker. so when you fight, it really hurts him. because of that he tends to give you the silent treatment. if he tries to talk to you he knows he’ll break down into tears so he just waits for you to come up to him. but, you can be just as stubborn as him so this could mean whole days without talking. however, taerae feels responsible for taking care of you anyways, so he does so in small and quiet ways, like leaving you coffee in the morning when you wake up, throwing a blanket over you and turning the tv off when you fall asleep on the couch, or folding your laundry just the way you like it without asking, which usually cause you to give in and forgive him.

you had locked yourself in your room for hours, silently crying in your bed as you replayed the scene over in your head. you had never fought so bad with taerae and it was all for nothing. it was stupid. you hated fighting with him. why’d he have to overwork himself so much? why couldn’t he just come home and rest with you? it wasn’t fair that his agency was taking your boyfriend away from you. but it was also his dream, and you couldn’t take that away from him. you just wanted to run into his arms and hug him and tell him everything was okay. but then the scenes of him yelling at you, eyebrows furrowed replayed in your head. you were too stubborn to forgive him so easily. suddenly, you heard a knock at the door. you jolted in your bed, standing up to head to the door. you hesitated before opening it, as you weren’t sure if you wanted to face taerae like this. however, you wiped your tears and opened the door. to your surprise, there was no one there. but you looked down and noticed a cup of tea on the floor. as you picked it up, you noticed there was a note stuck to it.

“i love you no matter what. i’m sorry - taerae”

ricky:

he loves to make you nervous

ricky is such a naturally flirty guy, but only with you. so, he just loves doing little things that he knows will make your heart flutter. you’re usually pretty shy when it comes to physical affection, so ricky loves to catch you off-guard. he loves to see the way your breath hitches and your eyes panic when he does something risky. he doesn’t care if you’re alone or surrounded by people. but secretly, it affects ricky just as much as it does to you. he would never want you to know how fast his heart beats or how his hands shake, when he does these kinds of things.

“hahah loser! i’ve beaten you three times now,” you say as you stick out your tongue at your boyfriend. ricky pouted as he threw the game controller onto the bed.

“it’s just because you’re distracting me!” he whined, throwing himself back on the bed. you shook your head in disbelief.

“what do you mean? i’m just playing mario kart fair and square! i haven’t even talked to you!” you mirrored ricky’s pout, crossing you arms against your chest.

“yeah, well you’re so cute i can’t focus,” he mutters. your breath hitched just the slightest.

“ricky… th-this is just your way of sidetracking me so i’ll lose. guess what? it won’t work!” ricky chuckled, sitting back up as he gripped the game controller.

“we’ll see about that? if i win this next round, you owe me ice cream,” he proposed.

“deal. you won’t win though,” you affirmed. this time you were completely determined to beat ricky, this was ice cream on the line. as the game started, your eyes were focused on the screen. you were pleased to realize you were beating ricky! though he was only two places behind you, you were sure that you could beat him. that was until an overwhelming force pushed your back into the bed. less than a second later, a pair of lips attacked yours. they moved swiftly against yours, his tongue lightly licking your lips. you could feel your heart beating a thousand miles per hour. without realizing it, you became completely captivated and forgot all about the game. but, ricky didn’t. just as quickly as he kissed you, he parted from you, getting back into the game. and before you knew it, he had won.

“RICKY!” you whined, lightly punching his bicep.

“you were totally into it,” he smirked. “and you owe me ice cream.”

gyuvin:

he’s literally attached to your hip

apart from being your boyfriend, gyuvin is your bestfriend. that’s why he wants to do absolutely everything with you. he also thinks you’re literally the cutest person on earth, so he tends to baby you. no matter what you’re doing, gyuvin either has an arm around you, his hand in yours, caressing your face, your hair. there is absolutely no scenario in which gyuvin isn’t touching you in some way. and you’ve become absolutely dependant on his touch, to the point where you’ve become just as needy for his touch.

you were laying on the couch of your shared apartment, gyuvin’s head laying on your lap. your fingers played with his hair, gently ruffling it as your eyes stay stuck on the tv screen. suddenly, you felt a storm in your stomach. gyuvin turned his head to look at you, the corner of his lips pointing upwards.

“are you hungry?” he asked, a cute downward smile on his lips. you nodded slowly, a shy smile on your lips. gyuvin then got up, sitting down next to you.

“how about we go down to the convenience store and get some ramen and snacks?” he suggested, a mischievous smile on his lips.

“you go. i don’t wanna get up,” you whined, leaning against his shoulder.

“come on! you know i can’t do anything without you. plus, you’ll have so much more fun with me than alone here with your tv,” he grinned, standing up in front of you.

“alright, kim kwaja. let’s go,” you sighed, giving him your hand to pull you up.

you walked along the street, your arm locked in gyuvin’s.

“i’m so cold,” you grumbled, snuggling into gyuvin’s chest. “i should’ve just stayed inside.” gyuvin giggled at how cute you looked, all grumpy and annoyed. he took your hands in his, warming them up with friction and placing a kiss on the back of your hands before putting them in his pocket. your cheeks heated up at the sweet act.

“better?” his voice asked, lovingly.

“yeah,” you muttered, cheesing to yourself.

“see. how can you live without me?”

gunwook:

he gets jealous

gunwook’s biggest pride is you. so when he feels like that is being challenged, he tends to get a little irritated. however, he never makes it your problem because he understands that you’re such a charming person that it’s only natural for others to flirt with you. that doesn’t stop him from feeling a little jealous on the inside, though. he’s not usually a confrontational guy, gunwook is such a cutie, especially for you. but when he feels threatened, he tends to puff up his chest and pretend he’s all cool and mighty. you think its the cutest thing in the world.

gunwook had taken you on a date to the amusement park. you’d been nagging gunwook for forever to go and he’d finally complied. after going on all the rides you wanted to go to at least three times, you were both so tired.

“how about we go get something to eat?” gunwook offered, squeezing your hand in his. you nodded enthusiastically.

“how about we get some churros? ooh, and a milkshake?” you you asked, giving gunwook those puppy eyes that always worked on him.

“yeah, yeah, alright. let’s go,” he said, melting completely.

“ooh!” you gasped as you saw a couple wearing matching headbands. gunwook noticed the way your eyes lit up and immediately knew.

“ok, you go get the food and i’ll go get us some cute headbands,” he said with a low chuckle. you giggled, thanking him with a kiss on the cheek before heading to get the food. as you approached the food booth, you noticed a familiar face. your childhood friend, jungwon, was standing in line. as soon as he saw you, his eyes lit up.

“y/n!” he yelled, waving you over. “it’s been so long,” he said as he embraced you in a hug. as you got your food, you engaged in a long and enthusiastic conversation with him.

when gunwook arrived, wearing pink bunny ears and holding another pair in his hand, he didn’t like the view. he didn’t like the way jungwon was looking at you, or the way he kept touching your shoulder when he talked to you. he sped up walking to you and surprised you by wrapping his arm around your waist.

“oh! hi, gunwook. this is jungwon,” you said, smiling.

“hi. i’m her boyfriend, gunwook. nice to meet you,” he said with an unusually deep voice, placing the bunny ears on your head before shaking jungwon’s hand without cracking a smile.

“well, nice to meet you too! i'll get going y/n. it was nice to see you,” jungwon said, giving you a pat on the shoulder before walking away. you smiled at him, then turned towards gunwook.

“you didn’t have to scare him off like that,” you scolded him.

“i just didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he pouted, wrapping his arms around your waist and hiding his face in your neck.

“you’re just the cutest, aren’t you?” you whisper.

yujin

he’s always blowing up your phone

yujin will literally relate anything he sees to you. because of that he’s always sending you pictures of things that remind him of you, or tiktoks, or memes that will make you laugh. he just sees you in every little thing and wants you to know. when you get home from school, you go straight to your phone to watch all the tiktoks yujin’s sent you and one by one respond to them. he’s also the type of boyfriend that would call you in the middle of a school day. he’d be obsessed with you.

you were able to sneak into the bathroom during math class, since you knew he wouldn’t notice you were gone. you quickly entered the bathroom stall in the far left, and rang your boyfriend. he immediately picked up.

“hi,” he said, all giggly. your cheeks warmed at the sound of his voice.

“hey yujinnie,” you replied, warmly. “how’s your day been?”

“i haven’t seen your face yet, so not that good,” he complained. you laughed lightly, but enough to make yujin smile. “it’s not fair that i don’t get to see you laugh with my own two eyes right now.”

“don’t be so whiny, yujin. here, i’ll turn on my camera,” you gave in. you turned on your camera, your smiling face being the first thing yujin saw. he gasped.

“what is this golden light that’s blinding my eyes? is it a goddess? an angel? oh wait it’s just y/n’s beauty” he announced dramatically. you chuckled, shaking your head.

“hey! now you turn on your camera!” you whined.

“alright, alright,” he complied. instantly, his face filled the screen. you gawked at how beautiful he look under the horrible bathroom lighting. his hair slightly fluffy, and a few strands falling over his eyes. he looked so cute it made you mad.

“you’re alright,” you shrugged.

“after i just compared you to a goddess? just ‘alright’?” he frowned jokingly.

“okay! i guess you’re pretty handsome,” you mutter.

“i’ll take it!”

“sooo, do you wanna go to the movies after school? there’s this really good horror movie i wanna watch!” you suggested.

“sounds good, i’ll meet you there at three? maybe we can grab something to eat beforehand.”

“okay. i’ll see you later!” you said, sending him a kiss through the screen. he grabbed it in the air, holding it against his heart.

“see you later, y/n.” you thought you saw a semblance of pink on his cheeks before the call ended.

#boys planet fics #zb1 #zb1 x reader #zb1 reactions #zb1 drabbles #zb1 scenarios #zerobaseone

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pieroulette · 6 months

Text

𝐍𝐢𝐢-𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

2023 | 18+ | S. SERIES | KOGA YUDAI × READER | MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: a decade without a mother to tend to your maternal needs had instilled a broken trust inside of you, but atleast you got the warmth of your wonderful father who persisted by your side. thus came the day, where a woman with eyes of the stars came around—bestowing rays on his days and you were more than delighted to accept her into your arms, but to your surprise, you were not only letting one person inside your home but two.

GENRE/WARNING yandere content, high school au, stepcest lol. (not a English native so prob plenty of grammar errors btw)

WC 7k / short series with three episodes with smut in the finale.

《 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝟏 : 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 》

Playing house.

You've always adore playing house; as a child, you would sprint all the way back home just to play house with your little sewed toys and dolls. You couldn't care any less about peers your age or what they do, or what the recent updates going on about gaming or whatnot.

For the very reason was because of a present you solely grew to adore with all your little heart could contain; which was your little playhouse your Papa had given you as present, leaving it on the table in your room on the very night of your birthday just before the midnight strikes.

Your eyes fluttered open and that alone, the sight alone was what melted your heart. And you'd never grew bored to repeat this no matter how much days, months, and years had passed.

The pure joy of placing your dolls in their respective seats, tiny teacups and porcelain plates in the purest white laid out neatly on the round small table, as you sat on the comfiness of the cushion on your knees while you talked about your day and everything little thing that occurs with the widest grin spread on your face. A tea party, or more specifically, 'an exclusive tea party'; where only the most trusted and important members could attend and dine in, they could even stay as long as they want even when the host had excused themselves which was very explanatory who it was.

You'd served them imaginary tea, or sometimes an exquisite wine when you feel like it. And depending on the time of the day, you'd serve them a plate of sandwich or bowl of soup. Sometimes the topic of the conversation with your little dolls would go as far as saying that you'd totally love to have your own little family someday, a perfect man like your father, be the perfect mother of your babies just like your mother.

Perfect, perfect; you lose count of how many times you repeated this word but how could you when you've been blessed with such perfect parents with flaws nowhere to be seen?

You happily enunciate each word to your little dolls, deeply sure that their animated yet still face are nodding along with your words.

Just like they always do.

They were much very trusted that you could talk about your imagination and your tiny aspirations of becoming a mother, just like your mother—where she could be seen from the kitchen, preparing tasty meals that left your mouth watering and heart palpating in doses of excitement. She was your inspiration, you wanted to be like her, to have your own babies and care after them with the utmost affection you could ever give; bath them, cook meals for them, give them a glass of milk, play with them, and then tuck them to bed as you read fairytale story books to them or sang a good night lullaby, ending the routine with a tender kiss on their cheek and forehead.

You would care for them, love them, embrace them, and tell them how much you love them every single day of their life. How wonderful would it be? How perfect it would be if it could come true?

Perfection. The frame of perfection binding the forms of your parents together with the little you in the center as you hold their hands with the widest smile and pride. Like the hard cover of the fairytale book you stumble upon a bookstore, displayed on the very front of the big glass window just enough for your little orbs to see.

Lavender ink spilled through the hard letter carvings, and onto the exquisite art of their main characters, their shadows just enough to display their very personalities. That's how you imagine your little perfect family, and that's how you would like it to be in the future as well.

Innocent, untouched and untainted, sheltered with affection and love, just and justice, and a happily ever after carved on the end of the page.

Yet unfortunately, your happily ever after was nowhere to be found on the last page. Heck, you didn't even got into the last page before the one character you envisioned to be the definition of perfection was the cause of chaos and the embodiment of a rotten apple.

It slam you the page of reality, ripping through the edges like silk turning into mold; contorting your face into expressions you've never knew existed, and stirred your hearts in emotions you've knew would be so ugly and terrible—leading you to believe that a perfect family of three would never existed at all. The rosy lenses obscuring your eyes finally ripping away to see the reality in front of you, that your dream isn't always going to come true.

That a family won't be as perfect as it is like it does in fairytales.

Until one day—

"You found someone?"

"Was she nice?"

"How does she look like?"

—was the question you bombarded your dad once you found his face smeared with a suspicious grin, one that you knew ain't anything related to his playful tendencies to you.

Strolling around the kitchen counter he did, as he dodged each and one of your question with;

"I'll tell you soon."

The sun peered through the glass pane, reflecting your childish pout you threw at your dad. Sighing relentlessly as you huffed through your room, throwing yourself on the bed. Pulling your phone out of your pockets, punching the password keys as you scrolled through your socials—ultimately stumbling on a picture of a family, a perfect picture of the widest smiles adorning their lips.

A wave of sadness washes over your soul, yet you breathe a sigh out—scrolling down to get that picture of your sight.

Refreshing and refreshing in a constant loop, with a lingering hope floating in your heart.

Days had gone like usually, yet not a day had gone by without you asking your dad though. Another pout emerged from your lips as your munch on your noodles, slurping in a spoonful of soup, relishing yourself in the delight of freshly cooked ramen.

The warm broth had you wondering when was the last time someone, or more specifically, a woman had cook for you and your dad? All this time, it was your dad that tried his best to serve good food for you, opting with simple menus from online and copying them as best as he could, just so he can replicate the warm meal your mom used to make.

Little did he know, his presence itself was the warmth enveloping you.

Going about your usual days with your usual errands, you grabbed a basket of laundries—throwing them inside the washing machine, punching each buttons with your fleeting thought. You've did this a thousand times enough to know, more than your peers might say or do. A life you've been working so well with ever since your mom left you and your dad. A tragic event that perhaps had instilled your beating heart a spiraling hatred towards her.

You barely even remembered her face, nor you would call her mom. And you couldn't care any less. But you remembered one thing, and it stuck in your head like a superglue—stubbornly refusing to peel away.

Or more like a bloodsucking leech that devours your thoughts whenever it resurfaces.

She said it herself with her pair of eyes that you used to cherish ever so lovingly, looking down at you with utter contempt as if you weren't her own flesh and blood, "This family has done nothing but bring me down," and her eyes fell on your little form. "And that child, do whatever you please. Get rid of her, place her into any adoption center, or just dump her any where you'd like. Just never call me again."

You despised her, you'd wish she had stayed and persisted to be with you and your dad. But reality seem to be wholly different than what your favourite fairytale literatures showcases. Yet as ugly it had became, your love for fairytales remained---the proof of it being your shelves filled with dozens of thick books of them.

Hoping that your dreams of simple, comforting, even if not perfect---but atleast complete and not with these hollow, hollow void.

That's why you didn't mind, and was more than elated to find that your dad has found someone. Someone that would make him happy, someone that would show him that it's okay for him to enjoy his life now. He did his everyday best for you, for ten years with no complaint. And you'd wish someone would do the same thing for him. You truly wish.

The one that would truly stay unlike that woman did.

Thus came the day, your dad finally broke the news with this lovely woman who was apparently a Japanese. He met her on a rainy day, after his work, under the pavilion in the park. It was short of nothing but two adult stranger having a brief talk, but that was all it takes for your dad to know that she was the one. Atleast that's how he feels, your dad clarified.

Yet they clicked instantly, your dad grins—looking down at his sweaty palms. He baffles at how he might sound like a teenage boy in love, but that's how it spills into his heart like butterflies shooting up in confettis.

She was lovely, sweet, and caring; a poet at her young age, and a well-loved and respected school teacher in kindergarten. From then on she built herself a solid foundation throughout her life, just like everyone but just like your dad, she was a widow but in a different circumstance.

Every description of the lady had your lips tugging up in a small, satisfied smile. Hoping that this was really it. The desire grew stronger and bigger the more your dad talks about her with his lips almost reaching his ears.

"And ah, by the way she had a son. One that is so like her, kind and gentle. He's a few years older than you."

The growing inches of the your lip's corner was interrupted with the mention of an older step-brother. Eyes widening in few centimetres, trying to take in the new information you barely expected.

"A son?" You repeated, and your dad nodded twice in response. That's what all it takes for you to utter a 'what the fuck' in the back of your mind.

You've lived your entire life as an only child, opting to play with a few neighbour kids down the street once in awhile yet it never came to you to desire for a sibling, you were far more contented in your own. But to have an older step brother at this age? You didn't know what to expect of it.

It had you thinking that you have to try and have a good relationship with him if this truly did work. What are you even supposed to do with him? Act like friends or straight up treat him like a brother? A boy you barely knew? A few years older even?

"How.." you tilted your head in mild hesitation, "Exactly old is he?"

"Twenty."

Great, a wonderful twenty year old step elder brother, truly wonderful!

You sighed exasperatedly, mind running in circles and wondering why are you even troubling yourself so much with it when it wasn't crystal clear yet that this blossoming relationship would even continue to bloom till winter.

A ting of curiousity surfaces over your mind, "What's his name then?"

"Kei, but that's his nickname. I'll leave it to you to ask him yourself when the day comes." Your dad gave you a playful wink at the end, obviously he's truly indeed waiting for that day where he could introduce you to the sweet lady that caught his heart, and of course for you to meet your supposedly new step brother.

So much for a guessing game.

"Don't stress yourself about it, he's a good boy."

"Hmm.." you hummed in return as you lie on the couch with your arms on your head, pondering of what to do. But judging by how your dad also swoons over the boy, then he doesn't seem to be that bad, isn't he?

Then what could go wrong?

"Whatever it is, i'm happy for you, dad. That's all."

The widest grin adorned your dad's lips, and this was a memory you will strive to keep in forever in your heart.

Quite a few months had passed since then, and you'd hear nothing from your dad but news about how the relationship grew more serious and inevitably sweeter; your dad would meet up with Ms. Koga—which he revealed as her surname a few days ago—twice or thrice a week due to their respective careers with tight schedule but that never deter them from having dates eventually.

He'd talk about how their little dates went on, or what kind of conversations they had and how she was the one and that they'd clicked instantly in almost anything and he said all that as he did a little dance across the kitchen with you as his audience, chin on your palms as you let out an amused chuckle.

Those little stories coming out from your dad had your belief in true love surfacing back again, just like those romances in fairytale books; first meeting and a doses of love floating in the air, which will soon follow with the promise of loyalty and true love, and at last—a ring that glistens under the spherical summer sun; one that represents eternal vows as it slips on the groom and bride's ring finger.

And so it finally did, the proof of it appearing on one fateful day with your dad sitting on the couch. A pretty red little box on his palms, opening the cover once in awhile to showcase the shiny diamond ring fitted nicely in the center. He gave you a brief peck on your forehead, asking you to wish him good luck before he went out for a dinner date with Ms. Koga. Coming back later he did as he entered the door with the widest grin stuck on his cheeks, to be greeted with that same wide grin every day would be your one and only wish.

Bliss.

Your dad's eyes was brimming with bliss, constantly spinning in circles and asking you which tie would fit his dark blue suit the best. And you couldn't help but shake your head at him, helping with the barrage of folded ties inside his closet.

"This one." helping your dad with the troublesome tie, you imagined how this would be the last time you'd help him, and how sooner and later---someone would come and will no longer let him stay alone like he did for the past few years. You finished with straightening the tie down, telling your dad to fix his hair up a bit with your lips curving up in a soft smile before you went to the mirror, checking your last fit one more time; a plain white dress but with a small bow your back, adding a delicate touch.

At least you wanted to look presentable to the lady who's about to be your dad's wife, and of course, your future stepmother. First impression always sticks.

The place where you're going to meet by the way was in the famous coffee shop in the city, a place being the favourite of Ms. Koga and her son—your dad clarified.

However the moment you heard the word 'coffee' though—was enough to send blaring alarms in your head, as it meant apparent death, unfortunately.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee beans wafted from the kitchen, spilling in an almost visible and hazy smoky trails that enveloped the entire inner cafe—might be soothing to some, but for you—as soon asit hits your nostrils, it had your nose immediately scrunching in return, almost gagging.

Coffee was nowhere your favourite, and you'd prefer not to stumble on any coffee shop as it only had your soul draining in utter nausea. Might even kill you that is, if you could've leave then you would've, but a little sacrifice here and then for your dad ain't that hard to do, right?

You took your seat beside the glass window, earning a pretty view of the street outside where a bunch of other stores and shops are lined in a row, crowds passing through like hordes of ants to their respective destinations, and the luminous blue sky bestowing it's rays on the greenery plants adorning the entrance of the coffee shop.

For awhile, you thought it would probably take long before they would come as you turn on your phone to check the time, but you were proven wrong.

At last, you met her; the very lady your dad compliments to the moon and back, with her eyes sparkling like stars, he often mentioned to be her most prominent feature.

"You're (Name)?"

"Hi, Ms. Koga." You bowed down slightly when your dad mentions her arrival, too disturbed by the spiraling smell of coffee in the cafe that you failed to notice her beside you at first.

"You're so lovely, beautiful even." She takes in your hands in hers, brushing her fingers tenderly on yours. "I'm jealous that you had such a gorgeous daughter."

The sweetened lullaby emitting from the lady had you curling inside in shyness. Yet it didn't deter you from observing the way her hair were let down in wavy curls, framing her face in such a loveable portrait which exudes in dripping motherly vibes. Her aura had you instinctively leaning in to give her a hug, a tighter embrace than you'd imagine. The lady was obviously surprised by your approach, yet as quick as she got surprised, it was also the same for it to dissipate like a breeze passing over your frame. Her motherly hands brushed across your shoulders and down your hips, her fingers returning the same warmth.

Your chin buried on her shoulder, leading you to sniffed in her comforting scent—which had you wondering just what type of perfume she was using as every other person you stumble on had a bold and thick scent it had you in nausea just like coffees do.

You pulled away, quite regretfully with a lingering desire to embrace her more.

"Your daughter is very sweet, I have to say."

Your dad agreed, patting you on the back. "Glad to see you two going along well."

The lady nodded in returned, a tender smile adorning her lovely features, one thing you particularly notice about her was the prominent feature of her pair of boba orbs. The sun rays reflected off her eyes like marbles, even. With her fluttering eyelashes adding to the animated portrait as she converse with your dad. She truly was gorgeous, in fact. You couldn't help but agree how your dad could fall for her, and just like that you can't help but imagine the events your dad had told you about their first meeting like a romantic retro footage in your head.

"So where is Kei?" Your dad asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry, he's running late. He had club activities to attend to, so.." She glanced down at the watch on her left wrist, "It might be around—oh, there he is."

So the son of the devil has arrived, isn't he?

You cleared your throat, preparing to introduce yourself to the boy who might be very well your elder brother from now on, might as well make the first impression as perfect as it can be so it won't be as that difficult to meet him every now and then on once you two started to live together. Heck, you'd certainly die if it were to become very awkward. But you weren't just sure how to address him depending on how this first meeting played out, calling a boy a few years older than you and one you barely knew "older brother" had your body engulfed in utter cringe. You'd go as far as to suggest to just call him by his name, if he agrees that is. But why were you so invested and concerned about this? You haven't even talked to him yet, seriously.

"Kei, come here."

And so that was the first time you lay your eyes upon on the boy, one that you were curious of along with his mom. Your jaw parted slightly in surprise as you took in his towering height—it's almost intimidating but his innocent features spreading all over his face like a fresh breeze in the summer rain were a stark contrast from his height, and his sense of fashion utterly being different from what you've initially imagine or him.

You've imagine him to be an embodiment of a delinquent or a bad boy, that is, despite your dad's description of him being kind and gentle. Not this neatly ironed white buttoned up shirt with a black tie adorning the collar and black pants. The black frames of his glasses perfectly fitted on top of his nose, and his hair neatly combed down his forehead making him perfectly presentable to any formal meeting, or just simply introducing him as a perfect candidate for marriage.

Like a doll that was very well taken care of, and treated with the utmost care and attention.

Huh, what was that last words for even?

Your eyes met his behind those glasses, and the first thought you had was—he surely is the son of his mother. They had the same pair of eyes resembling the breath of animated verdure, his nose—not really, but his full lips certainly resemble hers. They had the same hair colour, although his was more in a darker shade. You held your breath as you saw tiny stars shimmering on his boba like eyes, was that even an imagination? Or perhaps a trickery orchestrated by the sun rays drenching on the brown tiled floor and the sudden appearance of light rain pit pattering on the concrete road outside?

"Hi, I'm Kei. Pleasure to meet you, little sis." His faint pink lips pulled up in a small polite smile, as if he was so delighted to see you. His introduction was nothing but simple yet it was his addressment towards you that had you visibly taken aback, the heck him with adjusting so quick? Surely, his voice was dripping in honey tones and almost as melodic as the bird's chirps but it was almost as if he enunciate those words in mischievous tone. Were you just simply imagining it because of your over-the-top concerns?

"Uh, hi." You forced an awkward smile as you raised your palms waving a brief hi, which you hope weren't that too visible.

He greeted your dad shortly after, bowing down 360⁰ degress like the ideal model student which the vibe he obviously emitted since he stepped inside the cafe.

The chair emitted a slight creak across the tiled floor when he pulled it and seated himself in front of you, his bangs swaying back and forth like silk—you almost wanted to touch it. A hiccup escaped your throat, pulling you back to a logical state as to what the heck is wrong with you today? These mother and son, it was almost like they had casted an invisible magic spell on you and your dad. Or was it simply because you've never stop indulging yourself in thousand fairytale literatures to compensate for your so-called mother issues?

Four cup of coffee were later served and placed neatly on the table, their colours completely contrasted each other; yours and your dad were pure white, and Ms. Koga along with her son; being pitch black. The only main resemblance they had was the golden rim, adding an exquisite look on them.

Yet as pretty as it look, it didn't do nothing but to have your insides churning in disgust and nausea at the wafting smell of the coffee in front of you.

Your dad and Ms. Koga went on with the conversation, talking about you and Kei's childhood and per se. Some of it leaving you with your jaw dropping immensely as your dad exposed an embarrassing childhood photo of you, pulling it out from his wallet. Of course that didn't leave you being the only audience being heavily embarrassed here as the latter had been pulled into it as well.

Yet he remain unfazed much to your surprise, only pulling up a gentle chuckle as he nodded along. Like really? Does these childhood photos of him doesn't stir a bit of shame in his old folly days as a mini human trying to figure out life for the first time?

The way he acted is a tad bit similar to those princely characters in the books you read, as if he was fabricating a whole new character that are based on perfection. It gave you the ick, unable to ignore these growing weird sensation crawling on your skin but what if you were just too deep into your childhood traumas again?

Shortly after, your dad and Ms. Koga excused themself for a moment, saying that they're going for a short walk down the street which left you screaming inside cause you for sure don't want to be left alone behind with this boy. Well yeah of course, not really alone in almost packed cafe but still. You silently protested by raising your hand, hinting that you want to follow along but all of it was shut down in a matter of second when your dad added that you should try to get along with Kei.

And it didn't help that Ms. Koga told her son, with her lips curved up delicately, even. "Treat her well, and try not hit her up so much with nerdy stuffs."

A pout forms on Kei's lips, his glasses lifting up slightly. "I'll try, but can you really blame me?" He turned his eyes from his mom to you for a second, and then back at your dad and his mom again. "Have fun, mom. I'm sure we'll get along very well."

Your eyebrows knitted slightly in a frown, shrugging at the way he was so confident in his words. But oh well, maybe the feelings are mutual and he is just saying that to keep them in a good state of mind.

With the summer rain still pit pattering outside, your dad pulled out an umbrella in the round container, pushing it open and hanging it above their heads. You almost sighed with the sight of your dad and Ms. Koga exiting the cafe, their perfect picture as a couple walking past the huge glass window, not missing the tiny gestures of your dad interlacing his fingers with hers and the rosy hues dusting off Ms. Koga's cheeks despite her hair almost covering it.

The sight alone melted your heart and washes away the ten year submerged in nightmares into the ocean, making it still and serene. Like spring, frame of cherry pink petals blossoms and floats down their figure, and your heart prayed nothing but for their happy end to be not only at the last page but at every single page from now on.

A warning, a sense of dread engulfed every thumping vein beneath the depths of your skin, fingernails crawling across your bare skin even though you were fully clothed. As if..

Someone, someone, was undressing you with their pair of eyes.

You gaze at the window for a moment longer before turning away only to realize the boy; still seated, with his eyes fixated on you for god knows how long it had been. This uncomfortable sensation of his eyes on you had you burying yourself deeper into the seat despite it being totally impossible.

The dozens pair of feet scattering beneath your peripheral vision seems to slow down, beyond what a human could take. As if a footage playing in a slow motion, the audible sound of the pointed arrows on the clock as it moves down resonated through the entire space, and the space seems to grow larger but then it returns to its focal point; suffocating your figure in claustrophobic state, numerous pale arms with visible crimson veins emerged from the floor—clutching your legs in carnal desires to pull you down into the spiraling hole that resembles one of the prominent stories you've once read as a child.

Your neck remain stiff as you raised your head to met those pair of marbles looking down at you up and down. He had the smile of an angel, but the overwhelming dread consuming your body with his presence says otherwise.

"I don't look like I eat people, do I?" The pearly white of his teeth emerges as his lips slightly parted with a mild amusement.

As if a magic casted on you has been broken, his voice pulled you out from the frozen and hypnotic trance you've been falling in.

"Don't be scared, I don't think I'm even capable of that."

"I am not scared." You replied, trying your best to smile a bit.

"Sure," Kei tilted his head, eyes fixated on the rim of your cup when he notice how you deliberately avoided to look into his eyes, anywhere but him. A brief silence follows after that, a very awkward one apparently. But it didn't deter him from keeping the conversation going even for a bit, "I have to compliment you for going this far though, you're such a good daughter to your dad. Kind of rare to see that nowadays."

You raised your eyebrow in confusion, finally looking at him but rather with a wary expression etched all over your face and eyes. "What makes you think of that?"

"Your cup," He gestured at your white cup with his eyes, "You haven't taken a sip yet."

You look down at your cup of coffee, the content completely filled up to the rim, not once touched at the slightest. "Well that doesn't mean anything."

"Sure." He stirs the coffee in his black cup with a tiny spoon, slowly but with tender care. "But it sure takes an effort to only breathe through your mouth, I must say. If you'd like, we can go outside to take fresh air."

Taken aback by his observant eyes, you simply answered. "It doesn't matter, it's fine.."

"Then if you'd like, we could order something else."

"It's a coffee shop."

"Coffee isn't what it only offers."

A heavy silence forms between you two, thickening into an imaginary border which had you squirming uncomfortably on your seat, desiring to get this to end once and for all.

Getting caught once but not thrice, it sure does bring a hell lot of awkwardness for first time impressions. But are you even to be blame about not having any knowledge of it when you don't even have the slightest experience in being one for the last ten years in your life? Even so more so, you realize you didn't contribute anything to the conversation at all due to your huge distrust at strangers, especially the gut instinct crawling on your skin with this boy's presence being the main reason of it most of all.

Maybe this won't go well after all. Apparently it should have been, if not because of his initial addressment towards you. It doesn't sound right at all. Or maybe you were simply just not used to it?

"If coffee aren't anywhere in your list of favourites," Kei suddenly spoke much to your surprise once again, although rather slowly as if he was heavily choosing the right words to say but curiosity follows along despite it, and you waited in patience with a ting of uneasy, that is. "What do you love then?"

A harmless question.

"Books." You simply answered, yet added with an afterthought that you might be being too cold and wary around him. "Fairytales, and if it seems too childish for you, oh well—I couldn't care any less."

Or maybe not.

"Who says it's childish? That's like me saying that I love math, most people don't like it—much less find it entertaining enough to last with three minute video of it, but does it make any less worthless, or childish as you say or those people who said it?"

A mild pause in silence.

"It's short of nothing but a petty remarks made by less smart people, you see." A genuine smile you feel, made its way on his lips for the first time. "Take joy in what you love with less care of others."

Surprised by his unexpected words, "Well, I guess." Your shoulders drooped down after an extended time of being wary, your back leaning comfortably against the chair as you took a nice breathe in after awhile. "What do you do then? Math, you said."

"I majored for computer science, specifically programming. All those coding and stuffs."

"Looks like it." You replied nonchalantly, yet added with another afterthought. "That sounds cool, you really seem like it."

"You think so?" Kei slightly chuckled as he lapped his tongue at his lower lip, spinning his thumb around the golden rim of his cup. "I'm flattered, then. It took me quite awhile."

Your heart made a slight jump at the sight, which doesn't make sense. Surprised at your not-so-good reactions, you cleared your throat and tried to put in more effort into the conversation that it's now starting to ease up a bit.

"You'd make hell a good of mon—" You bit your tongue, maybe that's not quite a nice way to put it, you silently cursed at yourself. "How do you, I mean, what got you into numbers? Like, those complex stuff."

"Simply because they're complex."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I like it when things get complex." Kei looks into your eyes, stars shimmering on his chocolate brown eyes like it did awhile ago again, but this time the sun rays illuminated the edges of his hair—down to the edge of his cheeks perfectly; like an illustrated portrait breathing the soul of verdure into it. "It makes it fun and worth the prize. Easy is not my thing."

Fascinated by the trickeries of the damn sun rays again, you cleared your throat as you nodded—altering your position in the process.

"Isn't it that way in fairytales? Happy ending; efforts are needed before you can get to the last page with it's fruits laid out rightfully for you?"

"They are, happy endings are everyone's favourite anyways. Who wanted the latter? But I'm more a middle type of person." You corrected him, which made him raised his eyebrow in curiosity. "The journey."

"You mean?"

"Those little stuffs that happened in the characters' daily abouts of life. Like playing house, each person in the family plays their respective roles." With the topic of your interest, it naturally gravitates your attention to the window—catching the animated scene of tiny beads of droplets racing down the glass window, you added. "The little things, that's what make it worth it."

Kei lets out a breathless chuckle before raising his cup, looking at you through the lens of his glasses; taking a few seconds to observed the motion of your pupils following the trails of the droplets before a tiny smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, taking a sip in. "We're quite the same then, but in different ways."

"What makes you think of that? Doesn't sound like it though." Your focused attention breaks apart upon hearing those words, snorting disbelief as you turned your attention back to him.

"You mentioned no one wanted the latter, the bad ending." Placing the cup back on it's saucer, his fingers returned to brushed across the black frame of his glasses, pulling it off, folding it neatly as he placed it on the side of his table. "I like it though, I prefer when it tells the dark side of reality."

Your eyes lit up with his words, it piques your interest quite a bit for you to asked. "Oh really? Why?"

With his eyes no longer obscured by the lenses, you were able to get a much clearer view of his eyes. They are perfectly round, yet quite big in size which make them very much adorable. You swore you've never seen those eyes like his.

"They're way more fascinating, everyone desires for a perfect happy ending where everyone forgives each other, or perhaps for lovers to reunite together again, or perhaps.. because no one is truly ready to hear for the unnerving and sinful desires or actions of humans, or how far would they take something if it didn't go their own way."

"That's interesting." You breathe out a chuckle, realizing that you haven't taken a blink, you tried to blink a few times to get rid of the dryness consuming your eyes. His words truly pulled you into a deeper understanding of the topic, although like he mentioned, it's certainly unnerving. "Good for you I guess, but that doesn't make us anywhere the same, at all.

"Maybe," He tilted his head down on his right side playfully, the loose strands on his forehead following along like silk. He pushed his cup against your one; the pitch black and pure white contrasted one another, yet the golden rim perfectly blended as if it belong together. "—Or maybe you were reading the wrong book of fairytales all along this entire time."

"Please, of course I'm well aware of the real dark fairytales, those gory type of stories with endings like that. Sure, but not my kind of taste." You shrugged, remembering a recollection of your memories of those days when you tried to read those so called real and dark fairy tales you stumbled deep into the library. "They are not the very least comforting at all. Reality's already so dark like you said, so why intentionally put yourself into it more?""

"Of course, no?" Kei gave you a reassuring smile, "Why would it be anything wrong to only want for good stuffs?"

The soft rain had finally subsided, letting his voice turned clearer alike the grey lump of clouds breaking apart for the luminous sky to make its appearance.

"Just saying," Kei stares into your soul with a glimmer on his eyes yet obscured with faint obsidian hues. Like stirring an ink block on an inkstone, hypnotizing. "You already know that real fairytales aren't as pretty as we might think. But have you ever try to think that the correct term would be intriguing? The protagonist wouldn't let off the evil ones just like they do in those friendly latter, yes. Gory, of course."

He pauses, letting it sink into your mind.

"But that's what makes it exceptionally intriguing, don't you think?"

Amused but interested at his words, "Maybe? I'd never thought of it that way."

"C'mon, reality aren't so friendly, but that doesn't make it any less intriguing. I might say, it grew more tempting."

"Tempting? That's a new way to put it."

Kei leans in closer, resting his chin on his palms as his lips curved up in a delicate smile resembling his mother, pair of eyes that resemble objects you could describe. "Yes, temptation, aren't we all but a greedy, insatiable beings? Those characters, aren't they very much an almost perfect replica of us in real life?"

You briefly scrunched your nose playfully at him, gradually easing up to him despite the dark tones of the conversation since after all—fairy tales are the very thing that tugs your heartstrings and it's not once in awhile for you to find someone delving deep into the subject even if not exactly the same. "Bold of you to include me, I am not greedy at all."

"You sure?" Kei looks at you with mild disbelief, yet with a faint mischievous smirk etched on the corners of his lips. "Where there's a want or need, there exists the spectrum of greed."

"Like I said, I only want simple things, the little things."

"What do you want then?"

"A family." You answered the question with no hesitation at all, pride visible on your eyes and the smile on your face not only remains but grew wider, "Of my own."

A few beat of silence surfaces through the air, yet the ambient noise of the coffee shop replaces it instead. Soothing enough with the clink clanks of the plates, the lapping voices of the customers almost forming an orchestrated instrumental, adding the heavy scent of brewed coffee spiraling into the air in visible trails of smoke.

A slight chuckle soon squeezes its way out of the boy's lips, a small grin threatening to form on its corners. His palms made its way across his hair, ruffling the top of his head with his fingers---turning his once neatly combed hair to a disheveled one. "That's wonderful, I'm sure you'll be a great mother."

His now disheveled hair stirs quite a feeling in you that you couldn't fathom, but you smiled in return, thanking him. "Still, that doesn't prove your point that we're the same."

"Maybe?" Kei spoke in such a feathery tone that it brushes against your skin despite the obvious distance, you notice that he had his eyes on your cup before he spoke again. "How about you just give me yours, since you don't like it anyways?"

Your eyebrows raised in mild surprise, looking down at your white cup, the brown coffee still untouched "Oh, this? You can order another one though."

"Well, if you aren't going to drink it, it's all gonna be a waste."

He was right, what's the point in keeping it with you till it grew cold? You breathe out a sigh, "Alright, here."

You pushed your white cup to his side, his fingers subtly brushing against yours as he pulled it closer—having you pressed your lip in a tight line as you pulled away. You observed as he stirred its contents with the little spoon from his own cup—in a delicate motion. Raising it to his lower lip, he took a glimpse at you, "I like coffee anyways."

You watched as he drank the cup, finishing the coffee in one gulp down his throat. A scene that doesn't quite feel right, yet you brushed it off as another mere uneasiness of yours, "Can you suggest me some dark fairytales books you like then?"

"Of course. Why not? It would be my pleasure."

#andteam #&team x reader #&team k #koga yudai #&team smut #&team imagines #andteam k #&team oneshots #yandere &team #k smut

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tiyoin · 21 days

Text

cult of pomefiore #2

cw: describes imagery of cult sacrifices

maybe you’re friends with epel and the first year gang, mayyybe epel confessed to you saying how he’s liked you the moment he met you🙈 ofc he’s nervy, but he’s a man! not a pus- oh, you don’t see him that way? oh, no that’s okay! he just hopes this doesn’t effect your friendship!

he’s so calm and understanding on the outside, but on the inside oh ho ho ho, on the inside he’s seething

epel’s calling you horrendous names, wishing horrors on you for playing with him. you’re just like every other girl, using him. his grandma warned him about heart breakers like you, and he’s out for revenge.

so he gives your name to rook for a scarface. that’ll show you!! that’ll make you regret humiliating him like that! for giving him all these stolen glances and fleeting touches. that’ll show you for playing with his heart like that!

and yet… he can’t help but pause as he sees rook chatting you up. you’re giving him the same treatment you gave epel, shy eyes and fidgeting fingers, the tips of your shoes were squirming and you had that eye contact issue.

ah. so you were like this like everyone, epel wasn’t special, he was just delusional. letting the hunter play him like a fiddle and feeding him twisted truths and half lies… all to get, to you.

he didn’t know how long he was staring until a chill went up his spine. his gaze snapped to the hunter’s as purple met green. rook had caught him looking at you again. but this time, instead of beckoning the first year over, he put a gloved hand on your shoulder and guided you to towards the opposite direction, liquid praise trickling from his lips as an impish look shadowed his face.

rook had agreed with him when he brought up your name for a new member. to indoctrinate into the cult. he remembers the feeling anger and deep satisfaction when the hunter had all but brought you up to vil. spinning him tales of how untainted your soul was, yet how clouded your eyes were and how with a little training you’d be good for the table in time for the full moon!

and yet… watching the hunter leave with his prize made bile squeeze up his throat like squeezing toothpaste from its tube.

his books dropped with a mutter thud as he collapsed to his knees. his legs were numb and his forehead felt prickly, clamy as images upon images of you, sweet, innocent you flooded his minds eye. you were in a beauty, silky night gown the color of starlight. your hair was flowing like a rushing river, your eyes were shimmering like diamonds, and your lips were a deep red of the apples he and his family grew on his tree farm. your gaze upturned to the statue of the evil queen, eyes filled with hope and wonder and your hands clasped together in prayer.

like a slide show he was brought to the next image.

your eyes were closed, yet your soft smile never faltered. your hands were intertwined as you laid in your gown on a stone slab. ancient letters he could only dream of deciphering laid around your body like those blue mosaics on porcelain plates.

the room was dark and yet a soft yellow beam of light shone down on you. you looked… heavenly.

the chanting around you was anything but heavenly as he could hear the sadistic glee in the others words. he could hear the smiling as they recited the ancient texts they practiced just for rituals. they were shrouded in dark purple hoods, knelt on their prayer cushions as they dared not look up.

in front of you, rook was in his pomefiore uniform, a… distasteful glee on his face as he welcomed his brothers and sisters.

epel hurled chunks when he envisioned rook penetrating your chest with the ‘gift of the queen’, a lone tear of ecstasy escaping as the chantings grew louder.

the shadow above them was appeased.

the weight of epel’s rash decision now hung heavy on his shoulders.

epel had sold you to the devil

#i wanted to write about cult of pomefiore but i couldn’t answer the ask again since im still pained over it 😔#i’m sorry anon 💔#twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst #yandere rook hunt #rook x reader #yandere vil x reader

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thecampjuicebox · 4 months

Note

Hiii, I love your writing and I wanted to ask if you could make nsfw or sfw (or both) of Astarion or Gale x taller (fem presenting) reader? That's the base idea, the rest you can have fun with!:)

(Thank you for reading:))

eeeeee thank you so much!! Oh my gods I've been wanting to do tall fem Tav x Gale for soooooo loooong (Me being taller than Mr. Dekarios myself) 😈 Thank you so much for your submission! I hope you enjoy 💞

Purple

Pairing: Gale x Reader(f)

Rating: 18+ NSFW, Minors DNI

POV: 2nd person

Warnings: smut, fluff, rope bondage, bruising, whipping, edging, oral, orgasm denial, arousal from height difference, slight game spoilers

"My love? Could you come down here?"

Gale's voice is soft, yet strained and laced with a familiar frustration that brings a devilish smirk to your lips. It's painfully obvious just by his tone. He can't reach something again. Snapping the book you've been blissfully lost in for hours closed in your right hand, you rise to your feet and stretch your arms upward. Each vertebra in your long spine shifts, crackling, sending a shudder down to your legs that threatens your balance. With a huff, you start toward your lover's voice. A crash causes you to pick up your pace. Then another. Then another. Your footsteps quicken down the stairs and around the corner to the kitchen, the wizard in question standing with both palms pressed firmly to the countertop, shards of porcelain scattered around his slippered feet.

A frown plasters itself on your lips. You can feel the irritation radiating from the wizard like waves of deep purple weave, the hairs on the back of your neck standing at attention. A cold feeling of pity swirls in your stomach. Seeing Gale upset makes your brain buzz like an angry hornet in a jam jar. Although.. Had he just waited for your help, there'd be much less of a mess to clean up. Placing your hands on your hips, you point your gaze at him, rolling your tongue around behind your teeth. A soft clear of your throat alerts Gale of your presence and he turns to look at you, eyebrows knitted together in his usual look of disappointment, eyes flicking to the debris at his feet.

"I've done it again."

"That you have, my sweet.."

A lighthearted chuckle erupts from the wizard's throat and he tilts his head back, deep caramel eyes squeezing shut as his thumb and index finger reach up to pinch at the wrinkled bridge of his nose. His laugh is soothing. Thick like honey and velvet in your ears. He kicks at the mess, small white shards of what used to be a plate sliding into a small pile beside him. "Can't take my anywhere, it seems." He mumbles under his breath. Your nerves calm, feet shuffling around the shards on the wooden floor, finally settling in front of Gale's shorter frame. Long arms circle around his neck like constricting vines and you place the softest kiss to his prickly chin. Warmth pools in your belly. Moments like this bring such peace to your otherwise hectic days. Bliss. Comfort. Careful hands settle on your hips, fingertips digging into the plush meat hidden beneath your robe. His eyes meet yours and your heart skips a million beats.

"My Goddess.. Any other pales in comparison."

His Goddess. Knowing of Gale's previous lover, and just how that went, his nickname for you always strikes a strange chord. You hadn't felt worthy of such a name before. Never heard it muttered so easily toward you, either. Yet here he stands, staring up at you as if you were Mystra herself during his younger years, before the Orb. His eyes sparkle. Glow, even. Little sparks of weave seem to dance around the two of you as you drink each others' company in, in your little tower in Waterdeep. Your closeness makes your stomach ache with desire. The mutual heaving of chests as you both breathe in each others' scents causes your mind to wander. Absentminded fingers twirl themselves in the soft hairs on the back of Gale's neck and he shudders at the sensation, hands gripping tighter at your hips, tight enough to bruise.

Hungry lips meet his, nearly sucking the air straight from each others' lungs, a tight seal between your two mouths. Gale stumbles back against the counter and you press into him tightly. Your curves fit against him like the most perfect puzzle piece and he lets out a primal groan, his hands moving from your luscious hips to the globes of your ass, clawing and kneading at the flesh covered by a thin layer of silk. The very silk robe he'd gifted you the day you moved to Waterdeep with him. "Woven by the gods themselves." he joked. It's the very robe you spotted in the window of Figaro's shop in Baldur's Gate while you'd still been traveling with your little friends behind your eyes. He took notice of the color. Eggplant purple. His favorite color on himself, and as he soon realized, on you. You'd talked about that robe for at least a tenday. Gawking with Astarion over the lace trim, the careful stitching, the high quality material. It seemed so royal to you. So foreign and new and wealthy. Gale bought it the day you spotted it and, somehow, kept it hidden for weeks. Tucked it away amongst his small pile of belongings in camp. Lucky for him you fell just as in love with him as he had with you, so his gift did not go to waste.

Warm hands work their way under the robe to leave careful claw marks down your thighs. The grunt that leaves your lips is enough of a sign to Gale. He's got you right where he wants you. Heat burns like the fires of the nine hells between your legs and you squeeze them together to dull the desperate ache settling within. Your lover takes notice, forceful hands adjusting your position so you're turned swiftly around and end up bent over the table in the middle of the kitchen, cheek pressed firmly into the oak. It takes a moment to blink yourself from your daze. You hadn't even noticed Gale's powerful grip on your hair with one hand, the other pressing into the small of your back to keep you against the surface of the table. His hips knock against your ass, the thick bulge in his leggings an indicator of how this evening is going to play out. You can't help but grin, cheek still squished into the wood beneath you, a small puddle of drool forming at the corner of your mouth.

"Wait here." Gale growls. His hands leave you for a moment and you not dare move from your spot. Minutes pass, feeling like hours, and the sudden softness of what feels like some kind of rope trails up one thigh, along your ass, and down the other thigh. You gasp at the sensation. Gale's foot kicks gently at the inner parts of your ankles, signaling for you to part your legs. You follow obediently and step each foot to the side. "Good.." he grunts, fiddling with the knot on the rope to release its length. Testing the waters, you wiggle your almost bare ass into the air, the silk fabric of your robe wrinkling and riding up to reveal your sex, already dripping with excitement. Pupils blown wide, he sinks to his knees to marvel at the sight, nose nudging against your warmth. You yelp against the table, hands reaching back to guide his head exactly where you want him. He dodges your grasp and lands a swift thwip of the silk rope against your ass, leaving a delicious red line.

"Not yet. Not until you cry for me."

You mewl from the pain, your pathetic sounds not deceiving Gale for even a second. He'd watched you take quite the beating from Abdirak in the Selunite outpost. Heard your exaggerated cries for help. Watched you grip at the bloodied bricks as the Servant of Loviatar landed blow after blow against your back, bottom, and legs. Reveled at the way you flashed a grin at Astarion when he asked for an encore. He also heard the way you pleasured yourself that very night. The way you moaned for more, hand plunging deep in your leathers while you sat in that clearing, blissfully unaware that someone was watching. Your filthy sounds and words lived in his mind during your travels together, and he pondered long and hard about how to give you the same pleasure you'd felt while earning Loviatar's blessing. How he, a learned wizard from Waterdeep, could expand his horizons and delve deep into your most depraved desires. And so he did just that. Read every book he could find on the subject. Studied every word again and again until he felt he was ready. And your first night together was nothing short of god-like. Every night tangled up together after that has been exactly the same. An intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure that opened new doors Gale never thought to unlock in the first place, let alone take a step through.

Your tall frame remains bent over the dinner table and Gale takes a step back to assess his next move. The silk rope glides between his fingers with skillful ease as he unravels it, one tail end wrapping tightly around his hand while the slack end hangs around his knees. You wait with baited breath. Wait for the next blow. The next move. Anything. Searing pain shoots down your legs as you're granted momentary release, the rope leaving a hot stripe across your other ass cheek now. You cry out, jaw falling open. "Yes, yes.. So good for me. Louder." Then another hit. Thwip. And another. And another. Black spots invade your vision, your sex absolutely weeping between your thighs now. Deep purple bruises speckle the almost broken skin and Gale runs his fingers over the lashes, grinning as you hiss from his touch. "G-Gale.. P-Please.." You beg, a whimper causing your voice to crack.

"Arms behind your back for me. Remain obedient and you'll be rewarded."

You fold your arms behind your back, chest pressing firmly into the table now, almost uncomfortably. The rope finds a new home wrapped tightly around the upper part of your arms, intricate knots attaching your two arms together as one unit. The remaining rope ends snake between your legs on either side of your sex, the almost burning friction making you shift in your spot with excitement. More knots keep the rope steady, your robe pulled up and out of the way to allow the rope to connect with the restraints on your arms. You stand there, wrapped like a Midwinter present. Gale takes another step back to admire his work, his hand palming at the painful erection in his leggings. "Aren't you beautiful.." He mumbles. Your lover moves toward you once more, lips connecting to the deep purple bruises on your raised ass. He groans at the taste of you, the sweetness in your sweat, the musk emanating from between your thighs, the metallic tang of your blood from the small cuts the rope left behind on your skin.

Strong hands tug you closer to him. His nose probes between your ass cheeks, tongue lapping at your sex with a feverish pace that makes your knees buckle. "Gods, Gale!" You yell against the oak table, head unable to lift itself because of the way he's so expertly pinned you there. Rendered you completely hopeless. At his mercy. You dig your nails into your own forearms. Gale lands a hefty smack to either side of your ass cheeks, squishing his face between them as he devours you. The knot in your belly tightens, winds tighter and tighter, threatening to snap with each flick of his tongue. With each slap to your skin. You moan, yell, scream, cry out, drool all over yourself. The assault of his tongue halts and he grins as you keen back at him from the lack of stimulation.

He repeats this over and over, denying you each time you nearly topple over the precipice of ecstasy. One hand slips into Gale's leggings and he palms at his angry cock, precum slick against the velvet fabric. Quiet moans rumble against you and you tense completely. "I'm almost- I need to- Gods, Gale please!" Your voice is desperate. Broken. Absolutely drunk with pleasure. Still he denies you. Teases you. Breaks you even further. With a swift motion, Gale stands, his free hand moving between your legs to cup your sex, rubbing against it at a furiously slow pace. His other hand remains inside of his leggings, working his cock to his own end selfishly. The wizard leans against the table to look at you, teeth catching his plush bottom lip as he admires how much of a mess you've become. The shiny drool covering the tabletop around your face. His hand leaves his cock, fingers probing at your parted lips and you move your tongue out against them, tasting the salt of his seed, eyes blinking innocently up at him as he continues to move his hand against you just enough to deny you of your orgasm further. He smiles sweetly at you, watching your tongue work against his fingers. Caramel eyes scan over your body and he leans in to mumble softly into your ear.

"Have I ever told you how incredible you look in purple?"

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #bg3 fanfiction #gale of waterdeep #gale x reader #gale smut #bg3 smut #bg3 gale

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lethalchiralium · 7 months

Note

a domestic happiness ask because the amount of times i’ve read missus dying is offensive !!

completely domestic it hurts tbh

it’s the morning, simon just arrived back home the night before and the babies don’t know

missus and simon have some fluff in the kitchen - making tea, listening heart 70s radio (some swaying to the radio?🙏🏻), reading books in comfortable silence, best banter known to man

maybe winnie comes down and sees simon but has to be quiet to not wake her siblings😭 and then the 3 go and wake up mellie & baby together

just cuteness overload

#happinessislifefr

ugh this makes me so happy

happiness au! (again not decided on the sex of the baby yet)

The cigarette on his lips felt heavy as he sat on the front porch of his home. Knowing you were inside, asleep in your large bed, it made Ghost feel comforted. The family he’s protecting is quiet, eyes fluttering as they sleep and are oblivious to his return - yet he hasn’t stepped through the front door.

One last cigarette and he could go inside, peel off the mask and hold you until his little hellions woke up.

He stubbed the filter into the concrete before picking it up, shoving it in his pocket to throw away later and taking out the singular silver house key beside the keys to his truck. He opened his front door, noting the house was quiet - yet he still heard footsteps in the kitchen. He toed off his boots, closing the door and locking it behind him before he pulled off his coat, then shoved it into the closet so you didn’t smell the cigarette smoke on it.

He could hear something being poured, shuffling around in the kitchen - he knew the sound of your footsteps well enough to know it was you.

You knew the sound of his coat and the heaviness of his footsteps, so you weren’t scared out of your skin when your husband kissed your cheek - your cold hands pouring hot tea into his favorite cup. You didn’t mean to wake up this early, Nathan having kept you up a few hours longer than you intended. You placed the pot down, turning your head to look up at your husband - only to be met by the porcelain colored skull plate.

“Bad?” You whispered, the first word you had spoken that morning. It wasn’t often that he came in with the mask, Simon never liked you interacting with his protective shell, Ghost.

He didn’t move his head, his body stayed still yet his eyes flickered down. You frowned, your hand coming to settle on where his cheekbone was - your palm touching the dirt dusted plastic of his mask. You didn’t need to ask him what happened, he wouldn’t utter a word. You may have not been married for more than two years but that doesn’t excuse the way you knew him. Like he was sculpted from the same block of clay, the way soulmates are always intertwined.

Your fingernails tapped against the plastic, his cold brown eyes flickered to meet yours. You turned fully, the thin t-shirt you wore pressed against his taut stomach and rough belt. His large hand settled on your hip, gloved fingertips begging to feel your warm skin as he felt as cold as ice.

“The boy?”

“Givin’ me Hell in Riley fashion.”

He hummed a little chuckle, his free hand coming to rest right on your chest - right above your heart. His index and middle fingers pressed a little into your skin, trying to feel your heart through his glove.

“He’ll be happy to see you.”

“He’s only six weeks old.”

“He knows who his dad is.”

Simon wasn’t prepared for a son before, but now that he had held Nathan, he knew that he was more than ready. How did he know? Because as soon as he looked in the face of a little Simon Riley, he only felt love. He didn’t feel the despair he thought he would.

“The girls have missed you so much.”

“It’s been two weeks.”

“A long time for them to go without you, honey.” You watched his eyes as they memorized your face, a sleepy smirk tugged at your lips. “Mellie’s been trying to draw you pictures, she’s playing more and more.”

“That’s good.”

“She’s not trying to hide Winnie as often. Or me. Or Missy.”

“She’s too little to be having problems.”

You knew the look in his eye was clear self-deprecation - he thought his daughter having anxiety was exclusively his fault. “Honey.” Your fingertips grazed across the bottom of his mask, the hand on your chest moved to yours as a warning. You understood, keeping your hands on his chest with your nails scratching the old balaclava. “I know you think it’s your fault, but it isn’t. I’ve talked with the doctor, her herding and hiding her family makes her feel safe.”

“She doesn’t feel safe because I’m not here.”

“Simon-“

There was a creak from the staircase, Ghost’s head whipped up to gaze at the doorway - you looked too, only to see your seven year old as she creeped into the kitchen. Her eyes lit up as she saw her father, her arms instantly out as tears burst from her eyes. He let go of you instantly, striding over to scoop his daughter into his arms.

He desperately needed to smell that lavender shampoo you always used, needed to feel her curls against his face - his body was too hot, his face felt like it was on fire and he needed his mask off. All he could smell was the ichor of the battlefield, all he could taste was the metal in his blood.

“Mum was gonna help me get my mask off. Can you help me?”

The girl in orange pajamas nodded a little, a yawn came from her lips as her little hands ungraciously grabbed the top of his mask - including some hair underneath - and pulled. Without a wince, Simon let his oldest child tear off his mask, revealing the black paint around his deep brown eyes. His Winter Grace smiled, hands settled on his cheeks as she whispered, “Good morning, Daddy.”

Your hand settled on his lower back, he didn’t flinch like he would have with his skull plate over his face - his breathing slowed as he pressed his lips to Winnie’s curly hair. “Hello, my little love.”

Your hand gently squeezed your daughter’s foot, she slightly squealed as you whispered, “What are you doing up, baby?”

“Didn’t sleep good.”

“Didn’t sleep good?” Simon’s voice became as light as a feather, his hand cradling her head as he whispered, “I’m sorry. Do you want Mummy to tuck you back in?”

She shook her head, her warm hands tapping a little melody into his skin. “No. Wanna go to bed with you and Mummy.”

You gently shook her leg, your head resting on Simon’s shoulder. “Don’t forget that baby Nathan’s in Mommy’s room, you have to be extra quiet.”

She nodded before she wrapped her arms around Simon’s neck, her round face gazing at you with a smile before she whispered, “Daddy’s home.”

“I know, my love.” You whispered back, seeing Simon’s smile grow in your peripheral vision. “Do you think Melsie and Nate are gonna be happy too?” She nodded vigorously, you gently laughed before you kissed her nose. You looked up to your husband, your smile wide. “Let’s go.”

Simon’s mug of tea grew cold as you spent the early hours of the morning cuddling your children beside your husband.

#happiness series #lethalchiralium #lethal chiralium #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x wife!reader #simon riley x wife!reader #simon riley call of duty #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon riley x f!reader

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kittyamore0 · 1 year

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Hi this is my first time requesting something😭 I was wondering if u could write a Dom Brahms smut x sub female reader? (I love your writing btw)

-🌹

Our first time

Thank you!

Summary: Not much, just you and Brahms </3

Little note: sorry for the delay, ive been on and off with this one-shot, but now its finally ready!

genre: NSFW one-shot

Fandom: Horror

Character: Brahms Heelshire

Cw: Female! Sub! reader, Dom! Brahms, table sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, p in v, doggy style sex position, Brahms ruining you, blind fold usage, lost of virginity, slight begging kink, fingering, Lactation kink, dumbification kink, slight sadistic Brahms...just sex.

He stared attentively at you through that slightly, polished, cracked porcelain doll mask. You were currently washing the dishes and getting dinner ready with loud music playing.

You were unaware of his presence, due to how loud the music played. You stood there, swaying your hips to the beat, as he stood in the door way and his eyes roam up and down your body

It made him feel warm, hot even. His breathing becoming more uneven. His heart rapidly slamming against his chest.

You turned around to place the wet dish back into its holder. You yelped and jumped backwards when your eyes landed on Brahms first rather than the dish rack. "Jesus Christ! You scared me Brahms!"

His head cocked to the left of him and he mumbled out a quick 'sorry' You placed a hand over your heart and put the plate in the dish rack. "Is there something you need, Brahms?" He stopped for a minute, looking like he wanted to say something, but didn't when he slowly shook his head.

You raised a brow at his actions. "Alright then.." You went back to scrubbing the dishes, careful not to get the water further than your purple gloves.

Brahms legs unconsciously move towards your enticing figure. His arms wrapping around your waist the moment he gets close enough to.

"Brahms?" He hummed in your hair. The way his name left your lips in a soft whisper made him feel uneven. The way you were up against him, your curves aligning with his...It was like a puzzle piece.

You and him were made for each other, and that was all he could think about.

What if...you and him did those kinds of intimate things he would see in books?

Oh, those pretty noises that would come out of your swollen lips. Your soft begs for him to keep going or maybe even to stop.

"Brahmsies, is everything okay?" He nodded, but you didn't believe him. You turned around, his arms slipping loose.

You were just in front of the dinning table before his arms slipped around you again, the grip even more tighter than before.

"Stay." You shuddered at his unmasked voice. It wasn't as childish as it usually would be, it was much more deeper and low now. "It hurts..." His whine made you panic slightly. Did he hurt himself? what happened?

"Brahmsies, did you hurt yourself? where does it hurt?" He just looked down, a bit embarrassed.

You sighed and stared into his dilated eyes. "Kiss," ah, his child voice was back. "It hurts with the mask on, Brahms." His grip had gotten tighter, making you let out a soft gasp.

He let out a scowl. "Stay here." You meekly nodded and he harshly ran past you. The air blowing on the side of your shoulder.

The music had stopped playing, sending shivers down your spine, only hearing the echoing silence of the Heelshire manor.

A few minutes passed and you heard the squeaks and squeals of the hard, wooden floors.

You felt his body behind yours and suddenly, your vision went black, covered by a soft fabric. "B-Brahms?"

He placed his index finger over your soft lips. You could hear a 'click' and then you heard him place that glassy, polished mask down.

A harsh grip on your chin made your head turn to your right in a swift movement.

You felt chapped, peeled lips on yours. A mix of soft and warm with peeled, cold lips.

The kiss was eager and hungry, but gentle and sincere at the same time.

His head tilted, to aline his flawed lips with your perfect ones. You felt his teeth tug at your bottom lips, as if asking for access.

You sighed into his lips and kept your lips agape for his tongue to slip in, and it did.

His tongue slid at the roof of your mouth, keeping yours trapped and pushed back.

Your lips grew swollen and your lungs begged for some air. Eventually, you broke the kiss in a haze.

"Pretty [Name...]" He murmured against your lips. Your throat was dry, despite the kissing. You stammered your words, unable to form a clear sentence. You could not take compliments.

"O-oh, um--" it didn't help either when you felt his lips hover over your tender neck. You felt his teeth get a slight grip on your neck.

You shuddered, feeling Brahms lips twitch into a smile at your reaction.

A breathless moan escaped your lips when his teeth had sunk into your warm skin, his tongue grazing against your irritated skin.

Your body had felt warm and felt warmer by the second. "Brahms..." He had never really paid attention to why or how you said his name, but now? Now was different. He loved how his name rolled off your tongue, along with a whine. It enticed him, making his heart filled with a certain...need.

Dark hues formed on your neck. A way for you and others to know that you belong to him and only him.

The thought of more marks covering your bare body in other places made his cock throb.

His right hand traveled up your body and one of his fingers held onto the bra strap. His left hand traveled down and hooked around the hem of your panties. "please...please, please, please..." He mutters, his pleas causing your heart to beat faster, as if it were about to burst.

You had never gotten very intimate with your past partners, leaving you a virgin, since you figured they weren't the right ones. But with Brahms, it was...different.

You weakly nodded. His breath hitched in his throat. He wasn't too experienced himself when it came to sexual pleasure, but he had read about it, and he was willing to try and do whatever it takes to make you feel good.

He slipped his fingers in the soft fabric, pushing it down and away slightly. His digits grazed over your soaking cunt. Your mouth hangs open when his right hand kneads your breast. His forefinger and thumb working together on pinching your hardened nipple.

Your legs twitched and your hips jolted when he drew soft, slow circles into your clit. "Brahms--" Before you could finish your sentence, Brahms pushed one of his fingers inside your beating entrance. A loud mewl spilling from your quivering lips. Your walls stretching, trying to adjust the new feeling.

He sighed at the feeling of you clenching around his finger, and that only made him wonder, what would happen if he added more?

With barely enough time to react, hes slipped two more of his rough, dry fingers into you. "oh, fuck!--" Your hips buckled down for more friction.

His fingers pumped in and out of you, curling for just a second, which really felt like more than a second, to hit your G-spot.

Your mind clouded with the touch of Brahms fingers, which was currently used to fuck you. Your pre-cum coating his rather tall, rough, vein-y fingers.

Your nails could break from how hard they dug into the marble table. His relentless pumping only drove faster. "So, so warm..." He pushed his palm further into your sex. He loved the feeling of your wet, warm puffed out cunt against his hands. Every noise you make, every whine, whimper, moan, mewl, cry, okay, you get the point. It drove him crazy. He wanted to hear more and more than before, many more. His cock oozing with pre-cum with every noise that came out of your swollen lips. Unconsciously, he began to grind against you. His clothed tip almost hitting your clit.

He wanted to be inside of you, like how those books would describe when things got intimate between the Male and Female.

The thought of it made his finger drive faster into you. "W--wait, t--too much!--- " Your throat involved a gag when his right hand fingers were shoved down your throat, taking them in a chocked manner.

You barely had any time to react to his lewd actions, as he didn't care to be gentle with you anymore. Tears pricked into your eyes, the soft, black blind fold quick to absorb your warm, salty tears.

Your desperate cries for him to slow down were muffled, the words not getting too far away from his now vibrating fingers. "So pretty..." He shoved his fingers deeper into your throat, hitting your gag reflex many times. "Bra--hghn...I---can't!--" A low chuckle erupted from his throat and his teeth drove straight into your beaten up neck. "Plea--ah!--s--slow down...s'too much...! can't--can't!-- " Your teeth gripped onto your lower lip. The way your teeth molded into your lower lip harshly had enough power to break the delicate skin and draw blood.

"More...More!" He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. More whines spew out of your mouth. Your uncomprehended babbles continued on and on. Your walls tightened around his fingers. An unfamiliar knot building up in your lower abdomen. The feeling even edges him on. His pants being ruined and coated with his pre-cum.

"I--hah!--gonna--gonna!--" You loudly gasp, feeling the knot untie itself. You let out a whine and press your forehead against the marble table. His fingers help you ride out your high, coaxing it in your cum.

His finger exits out of your entrance and he brings them up to his mouth, sucking his cum-layered finger. Every covered finger with slide in and out with a pop.

His tongue swirled in his mouth, savoring your sweet taste. Oh, how he just could imagine how many more times hes about to make you cum, whimper, wine, moan, cry, beg and so much more. He wants all of it. It has to be you, and only you.

Your upper body heaved up and down. Brahms eyes glued onto your breast. His head dipped down and leveled with your chest. His mouth took one of your nipples in, his tongue swirling around the erratic nipple.

You whined and laid against him, too tired to do or say anything. He placed a few kisses on it. It made him feel nursed, but instead he's taking control.

Your stomach turned and twisted when he let his imperfect lips trail down your stomach. His hand was removed from your mouth, and you heard the flyer to his pants zip down. "W--wait!--" Your plea was cut off with his scowl. You were still recovering from your sweet release, but that only made him go further. If you had cum once already, why not another time? He was already craving to see his cock slamming in and out of you cruelly, his cum filling you up till' it dripped down your perfect body and onto your plush thighs.

He ignored your cries and gripped both his jeans and boxers down. Even more tears formed into your eyes, trying to tell him to give you a minute to process everything and calm down. His cock roamed free out of those suffocating jeans. Hes thick and throbbing with pre-cum, but not like you can see that.

The thought of him entering inside you while you wore a dark blindfold made you shiver, and as if he had read your thoughts, you felt his needy cock forcing its way through your wet, slick folds, finding its way inside your cunt.

The slow pain was all you could focus on, as Brahms was stretching you out quite a bit too much. "Ah!--Fuck, fuck!--mfmg!--" You grunted. Your sex trying to adjust Brahms, and there was much more to go.

Brahms breathing became ragged, hitched and inhumanly fast. "Tight, you're so...tight!--" He shudders, thinking about the way you wrapped around him. oh, you just felt too good.

"So--t--tight--" He whimpered, his focus all on you. The feeling was new to the both of you, which made the pain unbearable.

You felt yourself being stretched even more than what had seemed possible. The pain slowly turns into still, unbearable pleasure. Brahms lets out a shuddered moan when you've taken him whole. His hips jolted forward, each second mercilessly pounding into you. Countless mewls come out of your lips. The inhumane speed of his thrust fastens your panting, enough that hes fucking you dumb at this point.

"You...li--like this?" You sniffled, trying to respond with a mind clouded with pleasure. "Ngn...y--ah!--" You began babbling out nonsense. Your walls tighten around his length.

His unused hand gripped your jaw, turning your face towards his. His head cocked to the side. The sight of your teeth jabbing at your lower lip, your furrowed brows, you looked so...vulnerable, and he liked the sight of that. He liked the sight of you submitting to him, like you should, like you were meant to.

You whine as a familiar sensation builds up once again, in your core. The same knot that tied in your lower abdomen earlier. "cu-cumming, cumming!--" His hips collided with yours, going even more faster. You squeeze yourself around Brahms cock, his quite huge member going in and out as it pleases.

"Cum-cum for me!--" Brahms groaned, stuffing his face into your hair. On command, you let yourself come undone. Your cum covering his cock. He stops his fast pace and goes slow, wanting to remember this moment. Your expression when you came, your cum covering him.

He places a soft, tender kiss on your temple, before proceeding to his rough pace. "Bra--hms!, no--no more, ple--ase! Can't...Can't--No...more!--" Your begging only enticed him to keep going, he like how your tears stained the blind fold, even rolling down past the blindfold. Your pleas made it harder for him to stop.

Not only that, but you had cum twice already. It should be his turn now, and he's going to make sure he's gotten to feel what you had felt, his release. His cum filling you up. That's what he wanted.

He smiles as he continues slamming himself in and out of you, sending you into overstimulation. You laid your head against the marble table once again, letting your chocked sobs take over your words.

His lower abdomen twisted and turned, feeling a harsh but pleasant upcoming tension that begged to be taken care of. He dug his mouth in your neck, biting the skin, once again. You cried out when he had bitten you roughly, the pain hurting more than those shots you get at the doctors. "Almo-almost...there!--" His cock twitched inside of you, as he let himself unravel inside you. His cum painting your tired walls.

His cum dripping down your cunt, and onto your thigh. He stared down and admired the sight. He whined when he slowly removed himself from you, already wanting to continue being in you.

You sighed, and allowed yourself to catch a breath. Then, your body was being picked up from the waist. You were turned around and seated down on the cold table.

Brahms placed his head to your slightly-exposed chest, while his hands remained on your hips. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his forehead tenderly.

You let out a pleased hum, before closing your eyes and resting your head against his.

#brahms heelsire x reader #brahms my beloved #brahms x reader #brahms smut #brahms the boy #brahms headcanons #brahms heelshire #the boy 2016 #brahms the doll #female reader #horror smut #sub reader

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