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athina-blaine · 13 days

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kb/ms is truly transcendental yaoi, spectacular, amazing, 10/10, no notes ... from the perspective of a mithrun enjoyer

as a kabru enjoyer, however...

I'll start off by saying that of course Kabru doesn't want or need a romantic relationship to be fulfilled, especially not with a white man, none of them do, it's all non-canon, Dungeon Meshi isn't about romance or shipping, yes yes yes, but none of us are here for that right now!! We're here to fruitlessly argue why my blorbos kissing makes more sense than your blorbos kissing!! You know it, I know it, none of us are free of cringe!! Clown on clown violence!!

That being said ... 🤡

I just don't see what Kabru gets out of kb/ms. With Mithrun, it makes sense; Kabru has a huge impact on him and ultimately helps him reaffirm his will to live. That's very exquisite drama and excellent character writing. But with Kabru, I just don't feel that Mithrun's character interacts with his personal flaws and would instigate his growth anywhere close to the same degree. I have to imagine most fics involving them focus more on Mithrun's baggage and how Kabru helps him heal from that ... because that's mostly all that happens between them in the main story, lol!

And like, that makes sense, because ultimately chapters 61-62 aren't about Kabru and Mithrun; they're about Kabru working through his conflicted feelings in helping Laios conquer the dungeon. I think it's ironic seeing people complain about kb/ms having Kabru be Mithrun's accessory when, if anything, Mithrun's main narrative purpose, outside of illustrating the danger of the Winged Lion, is to serve as Kabru's obstacle. I'd even argue Mithrun represents Kabru's personal bad ending; Mithrun wants him to kill Laios and surrender the dungeon to the canaries, preventing the short-lived races from ever understanding how dungeons function and returning to the status quo that had gotten Utaya destroyed. It's only when Laios practically forces Kabru, straight up puts his thumbs to the screws, to work past his reticence and be emotionally vulnerable that Kabru finally puts himself on the right path to achieve his goals (it's, uh, still a bit of a bumpy ride, but they get there in the end, lol!). If he'd been this way with Laios from the beginning, he might have understood Laios' intentions from the start and saved himself a lot of pain, but it's only because of Laios' influence that Kabru is able to grow as a character and get his happy ending.

(And even if one were a Mithrun enjoyer, ultimately the main source of Mithrun's life affirmation comes from the canaries. In that final scene, Kabru gets the ball rolling because he's outside of the canary hierarchy, but the scene ends with Mithrun being embraced by the canaries and as far as I'm aware the two don't interact with or reference each other post canon at all. Hell, it's Senshi who really drives the point home. Not that it matters when we're all wearing shipping goggles here, but it felt remiss not to mention it.)

At most, I can see how taking care of Mithrun would force Kabru to reexamine how poorly he takes care of his own body and that could make for some good drama. But even then, that change is ultimately instigated by Laios' influence on him, an extension of how Kabru wants to understand how Laios can see the value in monsters in an attempt to better understand his own trauma. If a person were to get into Dungeon Meshi specifically for Kabru and wanted to ship him with someone in a way that's most interesting for him, I'd be hard-pressed to argue there's a better choice than Laios (although who'd be cringe enough to do something like that haha right guys ... [sweating])

(Side note, though, I really don't vibe with the argument that kb/ms "reduces Kabru to a caretaker role" and that's why it's bad. There's plenty of instances where Kabru shoulders his friends' burdens (helps Kuro learn common tongue, listens to Daya's fiance about his relationship troubles, etc) and, more importantly, is seemingly happy to do so. I think Kabru genuinely enjoys looking after his friends and in the story seems to find plenty of personal satisfaction getting Mithrun to eat. I understand it has the potential to be more troubling considering Kabru is a brown man and Mithrun is a white man, but idk, it just feels on the same level as people trying to discount labru by saying Laios wouldn't take enough of an interest in people to want to start a romantic relationship, when his whole thing is that he does want to connect with people and just feels like he can't. It's not a bone I feel like picking, haha)

I honesty don't mind characters being "mischaracterized" in fandom or fic even to a large degree, I know it bugs a lot of people but I respect that ultimately fandom is little more than picking up the vague outline of a doll and playing with it and mashing their faces together. Besides, if I'm really worked up about it I can just write a fic and set the record straight myself, haha. This post is merely inspired by the supremely annoying subsection of twitter that acts like labru is the ship where it's just two dudes sitting in a room together. I'm just saying, Kabru ends the series whispering into the ear of another man as his day job and it's not Mithrun lmao

#dungeon meshi #dunmesh spoilers #labru #fandom wank #wank wanky fandom wank #thought you'd cringed at the last of me didn't you #sorry im a hater lmao #idk yall remember my opening note in 'nourish'#where i talked about how sometimes ships are your blorbo and the character they're closest to in canon #that was me throwing shade haha #stone-shaped shade in my delicate glass house #but shade nonetheless lmao #can't relate to people who are like 'nooooo don't fight about ships you guysss' like NO i wanna fight actually i think it's funny #kabru DOES only have one hand actually and the other one's holding the castle itinerary 😤#but only through absurd shitposts or overly long essays on your own blog like you still need to follow etiquette #people who send hate are losers who can't write or draw to cope #meanwhile i ship and write fics like it's a competitive sport i can win lol

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rosedom · 3 months

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AHHHH HELLOOO sorry i usually dont request much, haha this is actually my second request in all of my tumblr story ever but...i saw you decided to write for gaming and i just couldnt resist, i love your writing a lot and i just think its so immaculate hahaa. Could you write an scenario where male reader is stressed from work (imagine he has an important job like a doctor or something whatever you want is fine :)) because he has been working days nonstop, so much that his boyfriend is all worked up and horny for him so when reader comes back he finds himself straddled by him while hes begging for fucking? With cockwarming, breeding kink and cowgirl position. Could that be with Gaming, Lyney and Gorou? SORRY IF IM ASKING MUCH I DONT WANT TO BE A BOTHER😭😭 i just dont know how to request but thanks for reading all of rant. And again, thank you and sorry for bothering😔 have a nice day/afternoon/night!

"an unnamed player has invited GA-MING, LYNEY, and GOROU to play . . . an apple a day

✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!top!male!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!characters, vaginal sex & riding, breeding kink + creampies, creaming (lyney), gratuitous praise + petnames .

A/N : aa u are never a bother !! i am SO SORRY this took so long for me to get to, omg . . . but i had sm fun with this (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."

Patient after patient after patient, each one with a more downright stupid trouble than the last. Your day had started with a young man, clearly fresh out of Millelith training, complaining of a tummy ache, of all things! He had clutched his stomach and moaned and groaned, and all you could prescribe him was bedrest. It’s not like you were going to waste medicine—medicine that some people needed—on someone who ached because he didn't eat fucking breakfast.

The next patient was an older woman, here only for her biannual check up. You'd greeted her, said a sweet, “Good morning, madame,” but all she did was turn her snobby nose up at you and demand you not waste her time.

“Madame, you have a serious—”

“I know, young man.” You had heaved a sigh, letting her boss you around for the length of her appointment before sending her off with the exact same specifications as last time: take vitamins, get ample rest, stop talking back to people just doing their jobs. (Though, that last one there was merely something you wished you had said.

Too bad the customer—in this case, patient—is always right, huh?)

But, by the end of the day, you wish, instead, that you had simply elderly after elderly; their disrespect pales to the absolute headache that the rest of your patients put behind your eyes, pounding at your skull—bam, bam, bam.

Wham bam-thank-you-ma'am, all throbbing incessantly behind your eyes and making you wanna hurl—except, god, you’re the fucking doctor, and who’s there to take care of him when he’s a little under the weather? You’ve got your boyfriend, of course—your perfect boyfriend, light of your life, apple of your eye, yet he’s home, and you’re here, and you’re bloody exhausted.

“I need to go home,” you murmur—quiet, lest your own voice make you lose the last of your thin-threaded sanity—, already stripping yourself of the itchy scrubs you wear during the long days.

“But sir—” the nurse asks, meak, but her voice is still too loud, too shrill for right now.

You huff. “I’ve worked for fourteen hours.” The tired gruff to your own voice makes you cringe. You can feel the way it tumbles from your chest, rattling you, your overly sensitive eyes and brain and head and fuckin’ everything, at this point. “Refer to the doc on duty, now.”

The nurse nods, once. “Have a good night, doctor.”

You bid farewell—a kind apology with a promise to make it up to them, to bring them coffee, maybe, or some cookies—, and you take the slow walk home. The sky is dark and the fireflies are out, the gentle glow illuminating the path. With nothing but your own thoughts and the night to accompany you, you feel your headache gradually ease. It throbs, still; but each bump in your skull is gentler, now: it’s easier to ignore.

Although the porch light is too strong—the lantern bright and attracting the nighttime bugs and moths—, the foyer of your home is dark. Your aching head is grateful for the reprieve—for the silence that envelops you in totality the second the door clicks quietly shut behind you—, but something other than tiredness pulls at your heartstrings: your sweet boyfriend, clad in only a shirt of yours, toeing into the entryway.

“Honey?” He wipes the sleep from his eyes, softly smiling at you. “Hi.”

“Ga-ming, honey—” honey, because Ga-ming unabashedly stole the pet name from you, first, “—you didn’t have to stay up for me.”

As if on cue, his jaw cracks open in a yawn: this, you do not need the lights on to see. Your heart aches with your head, knowing that he had stayed up just for you. “Honey,” you repeat, sliding off your jacket and stepping up to him. You take his waist in your hands, bunching up the shirt he stole from your closet.

“Quit with that,” he murmurs, tilting up his head for a soft kiss. You grant it; but when you go to pull back, to keep the kiss gentle and chaste, Ga-ming presses forward, darting that little tongue out to lick at the seam of your lips; his hips, too, come bumping against yours, pressing into your thigh, pant to skin—

“Ga-ming?” you repeat, breath leaving you in a low huff. “You’re—” bare.

Utterly, wholly bare: an expanse of warm, slick skin against your clothed leg. “‘m ready,” he mumbles while he takes to mouthing at your throat. His lips soothe you, somehow; it’s a reprieve, a stark contrast, to the pounding at your skull.

“Ready?” you whisper, tilting your head back, letting your hands guide the steady roll of his hips onto your lap.

He nods. “Ready for you,” he enunciates as he softly whines.

Ga-ming—your Ga-ming—, your boyfriend, your love and light of your life: right here in front of you, on you, all needy for you, offering himself to you, wholly ready for the taking.

“So please,” he continues, his cock dragging heavy across the seam of your pant; “fuck me.”

“Oh, honey,” you murmur; then again, an “oh, honey,” because you’re still half-dressed up in your clothes—though they’re only soft and bland, made to fit under the rough scrubs you had abandoned at the office—, and Ga-ming is naked save for the shirt draping across him, the low hemline covering the absolutely sinful way he grinds down. It’s a dirty move, a down, down, down that gives his sensitive cock friction against your pelvis.

“Please, please, ‘m ready, I said—” his words abruptly drop off, a high cry in his throat that sends him to hide his overly-warm face in your neck. His skin burns against you, a feverish-hot that makes you chuckle, makes the throb in your head go away, just-so. “I said I-I was ready, so, please!”

You coo, quiet, bumping your hips up once. The jerking motion makes him cry out, but he manages to keep himself upright, right-side up but entirely unmoored on your cock. “Go on then, little lion. Take what you need, yeah?”

Whimpering a quiet, “Y-yeah,” he begins riding you, slow, steady—but slightly off-balanced—rolls of his hips that makes him whine, makes you groan low n’ deep in your chest. You let your hands rest on his hips, the fabric of his shirt falling over your wrists, and gently guide his motions. Once you’ve helped him establish himself, he begins riding you harder, more desperate.

Silent tears—though, are they truly silent, loud as he is moaning out for you?—dribble down his cheeks, falling to his shirt and soaking the collar of it in salty evidence of his abject pleasure. His abdomen is tensing and relaxing and tensing and relaxing again, all in a rapid loop, in and out and in n’ out, and then there’s a fucking bulge right below his navel when he sinks down hard n’ deep on your cock; and you’re sent over the edge at the sight, moaning through your teeth as you fill Ga-ming up with hot, sticky cum.

“Oh, oh—” he cries, grinding down harsh to get all your cum in as deep as possible, deep ‘nuff to breed him— “bred me, bred me so well, oh—” You groan at his desperate babbling as his thighs jerk around your hips, just before they give out on him entirely. He falls bodily into your chest, heaving through his own orgasm as weak mewls tumble from his prettily parted lips. Each sound is smeared into your throat while you laugh, light and breathless, jostling his overly-sensitized body and making him flinch.

“Sorry, honey.” You kiss at his temple, and, the whole while, his small cunt is left to unconsciously milk your cock, left to assure that loud, insecure part of his brain that he’s wanted, that he’s bred all nice n’ full because he is loved. You’re long done, now, but the undulations make your body warm, soft, safe—just like Ga-ming is, comfy in your lap and wholly protected. “Thank you.”

He shakes his head against you, nuzzling into your throat with a heavy sigh. “You don’t have—hafta thank me,” he mumbles, a lick at your Adam’s apple to seal the deal. “I wanted ta.”

Tucking up the blankets around him, you grin. “Then can you warm my cock, lil’ dragon? Just for me?” You run your fingers lightly up his clothed spine, delighting in the shiver you can feel, one that runs the length of your cock as he’s snug on it. “Since earlier was all about you?” You raise the end of your sentence in a lilting tone, meant to tease, and Ga-ming huffs at you.

And, n further retaliation, he clenches around you; the soft squeeze—all wet n’ warm, smearing your own cum across the base of your cock and leaving the mess of both of yours to dribble down the minute space between your bodies—forces you to calm your breathing, to take in the delicate scent of what is undeniably Ga-ming mixed with the smell of your own shirt, your own cologne.

You laugh, then. “‘m sorry,” you say again amidst giggles, ones you’re careful you confine only to your upper chest lest the movement be too uncomfortable on both of your oversensitive groins.

He doesn't reply, snuggled up comfy on your lap and stuffed full of your cock n’ cum both. Instead, he only noses into your neck further before his breathing steadies, lulling you to sleep, too.

It’s in your final moments of consciousness that you realize your head no longer hurts.

(You suppose you now have the evidence that, yes, an orgasm is sufficient enough a cure for headaches.)

Under Lyney’s palm, a small floor lamp clicks silently on. The light is admittedly dim, but, to your sensitive eyes, the bulb is blinding. You cringe and cover your eyes; but it only serves to shield you slightly, because you’re still upright in the foyer, and your body is rather weak. “Lyney,” you tiredly murmur, lifting your palm just enough to see the ground lest you trip.

You bump into him, laughing lightly, but his worried hands jump to your arm. “Hey—”

“I’m okay.” You’re quick to calm him, placing your free hand on his in a tender gesture as you make way to the living room. “Just a headache, ‘s all. Ya shouldn't have stayed up f’r me.” Earlier, it hurt to even think; but here, with him, the pain is easy to ignore, in the face of his own self destruction.

He grumbles at you, though, says something you can’t quite catch and drops his hands, pads over to the lamp to flick it off. The return of darkness is soothing.

He smiles at you, then; or, at least, you think he does. It’s difficult to see in the dark, and you can’t strain your eyes without hurting yourself. “I wanted to!” He takes three long strides before he’s standing in front of you, draping his arms across your shoulders. The position makes his (your) shirt ride up on his belly, and— ”I missed you, y’know,” he murmurs, suddenly all soft n’ deep, looking up at you and bumping his forehead against your chin. “A lot, really.”

“Lyn—”

He quickly silences you with a kiss. Against your lips, he pulls back, murmurs, “I missed your cock, especially.”

Laughing against him, you lean up ‘til he can no longer reach you. He pouts at you when you reply, faux-snark, “only my cock, huh?” Your bottom lip juts out—a mirror of Lyney’s own, a magic trick of his you took for your own; it’s a devilish trick, one you play right alongside puppy-dog eyes you know he’s soft to. “How cruel.”

He huffs at you, pulling you down by the collar of your shirt to kiss the mirth off your lips. “I was tryin’ to be seductive,” he grumbles, knocking against your chin and beginning to push you backwards into the living room. “But nevermind!”

You want to say, “Hey, now:” disagree with him and keep on pouting and go, “hey, hey, hey,” all offended, but the backs of your knees come into contact with the edge of the sofa, and you’re well and sufficiently distracted from that idea.

“Sit,” he gently commands you—merely the illusion of choice—, giving you no choice in the matter with the way he’s pressing you down into the cushions. You go easily; you sigh in relief when the softness begins enveloping you—a pillow’s snug right in the middle of your back, and you briefly wonder if Lyney had planned this. He murmurs, “there you go,” quiet n’ soft, and you’re taken by the way this man gives to you.

He wears his heart on his sleeve, truly; except, right now, the sleeve is yours (just like his heart belongs to you and yours to him in turn), and it's bare, and so is the expanse of his long, pale thighs, the hem of his boxers peeking out beneath the shirt. He stands in front of you, between your legs, makes sure you’re down and that you’re gonna stay down, but your eyes aren’t really tired, not anymore, staring at Luney—your Lyney—before he huffs and sits bodily onto you, straddling your lap with his knees sinking into the cushions on either side of you.

“Lyney,” you murmur, reaching out to take hold of his thighs. The position makes the shirt rise up on his belly, exposing the soft, rippling muscles there; but, in the dark, all you can go by is what you feel against your own stomach, his bare skin pressed to your thin shirt. “I was kiddin’, sweetheart.”

“I know you were,” he snaps at you, mean-like, but he brings his arms around your shoulders all sweetly and nuzzles into the side of your head. “But I wasn’t. I—I really did miss you; and your cock. If you—if you wanna, of course.”

“Of course I want to, Lyn,” you mutter, tilting your head up to kiss beneath his chin. “I’m just a little tired.”

“A little?” He huffs, again, before sighing. “Just—let me do the work, alright? I’m already...” he pauses, tilts his head to the side, breathes in and out sharply.

You hum at him to go on.

“‘m already prepped.” Oh.

“Oh?” You grin, bringing your tired arm up to cup his cheek. He leans into your palm and his eyelashes flutter, brushing against your skin. “Go ahead then, sweet thing.”

And go ahead he does, smiling into you before he abruptly leans back ‘nuff to chuck off the shirt. You whine, say, “hey!” but there isn’t any bite left on your tongue when Lyney starts tugging his boxers down, too. He’s impatient, pulling at the seam and groaning curses at the fabric—as if it’s the damn boxers’ fault that he’s in a position that prevents him from taking them off.

He relents, tilting this way and that and finally—after painstaking minutes later, ones that, under no circumstance, should be arousing, but the anticipation, the wait: it all makes your dick chub up in your own pants—Lyney’s left naked in your lap. The fabric hangs off his foot, and you reach down to tug it the rest of the way off for your sweet boyfriend as he busies himself unbuckling your own belt, loosening the tough leather enough for your pants to droop and enough for him to reach a hot hand into your briefs.

“Eager, huh?” you tease, lifting your hips—and, subsequently, him—to let him get your dick out of your pants. Neither of you bother pulling down your own pants, not after Lyney spent so long on his boxers alone. He doesn’t dally. “My sweet Lyney.”

He sighs, again—he’s rather dramatic tonight; but, then again, when isn’t he? It wouldn’t quite be your Lyney without some theatrics—, spitting into his palm and lathering up your cock with it while he makes to straddle you more fully. “Thought you were tired,” he grumbles, hovering his, indeed, wet n’ slicked up and entirely prepped cunt over your thick cockhead.

“Mhm.” You set your hands on his plush thighs once he hooks the head of you into his loosened hole, groaning low and pleased in your throat while he softly whimpers at the barely-there stretch. He prepared himself well. “But when you’re lookin’ so pretty for me, I can’t help being wide awake. Wouldn’t wanna miss this sight for the world.”

With your eyes now adjusted to the light—and, oh, you consider how the throb of your head is a bygone memory now—, you can see the way his cheeks darken just-so, puffed up in exertion as his groin meets yours. You’ve got your cock stuffed up balls-deep in him, and he leans into you once he’s fully settled.

He moans, less out of outright pleasure and more out of total contentment, comfy and warm on your lap as your arms knead at his thighs. His arms squeeze around your shoulders, and he quietly asks, “Gimme a minute.”

Nodding, you simply bask in the steady heat of him, letting him adjust and recognize that, yes, you’re home, now, and you hadn’t really left him at all. “I missed you,” you murmur rather suddenly, your voice quiet but still stark in the silence of the night. “Thought about you durin’ my shift.”

“You did?” His voice is rough but wispy, a little out-there and entirely gone. He’s slipping into that mindset he always does when he’s left to warm your cock—regardless of if it were by his volition or your own—, but he begins to subtly grind his hips against you, mewling at the hot sparks of rapture from his cock rubbing just right against you.

“‘Course I did,” you continue, moving your hands to his hips instead to help move him along. His arms tighten around you and he moans directly into your ear.

From then on, it’s quiet: quiet, that is, save from the obscene slick noises of the lube Lyney used to prep himself earlier with his own slick, your pre-cum mixing up and making a mess of thick liquid between both of your thighs. His moans are barely audible, these soft, gentle lil’ uh, uh, uh’s punched out of him with each tender grind down.

You think, even, that you’ll both cum like this: quiet, nothing but the sounds of your connection and heavy breaths, moans, groans as you fall over the edge. But then Lyney starts bumping his groin against yours even harder, grinding down deep on your cock and rubbing against your full balls, and he starts babbling for you to “breed me! Please—”

“I-I’ll breed you,” you groan, leaning your head back into the sofa cushions and chasing your release, chasing the release you both want, the one he wants so desperately stuffed up deep inside him. “Gonna fill you right up, just like you want, sweetheart.”

He babbles more—a mix of syllables and words, more pleas for you to breed him—until he’s silenced by his own high-pitched whine, cumming around you and slathering you in creamy-white. The steady clench and release of his cunt forces you to your own end, thick cum slowly leaking out from the edges of his cunt and your cock. (You can hardly tell what’s your leaking cum and what is his own.)

“Thank you,” he mumbles, already beginning to doze. “Th’nk you:” quieter, more muddled against your ear.

You grab the throw you have across the sofa’s armrest, rucking it up around the two of you; you cocoon Lyney safe in your arms and on your softened cock. He’s nodded off, now, and he misses your words: “You don’t have to thank me,” you say anyway, even if he doesn’t hear you, “I love you.”

The cum’ll be sticky, later, when you wake up; but for now, it’s perfect. It’s perfectly warm and entirely cozy, wholly snuggled up with the love of your life. Your headache, the stressors of the day—they’re all forgotten in his presence.

You’re so, so glad to love him.

“Hi, puppy,” you coo. The sound of your own voice grates you, but you ignore it to sweetly smile at your beloved. He stands there, motionless for a moment right there at the threshold before the foyer, until he shakes his head with a barely-there laugh. “Gorou?”

He tilts his head to the side—this you can see, the silhouette of him in the moonlight—before he takes a tentative step forward.

Then another. And another. Another, another, another, ‘till he’s standing in front of you and leans up to kiss your jaw. “Hi,” he repeats, voice ruff (hah!) and hoarse, a little too much so. “Missed ya.”

You tilt your head back to let him mouth at you, and your hands subconsciously come to clutch at his hips, and— “Oh, Gorou,” you mumble, pleasantly aghast, because your hands come into contact with bare, slick skin. “Pent up?”

With a quiet whimper, he tilts his hips forward, into you, pressing against the contact of your fingers on him. You slowly slide your one hand around, sneaking a large handful of his ass before you dip into his cleft, shuddering when your fingertip easily glides across his slicked, open cunt.

“I-I wanted you, so bad,” he starts to mumble, shy, tucking his head into the meat where your shoulder meets your neck. Without any prompting, you adjust your stance, pressing your knee into his cock and making him jerk forward with another whimper high in his throat. “Oh!”

Slowly, his hips begin grinding—it’s a weak movement, testing, making sure you're really okay with this, right now. He moves unsure against you until you begin bumping your knee, letting his slick make a mess of your pant leg. “Go on,” you goad him on, soft, holding him snug against you. You can feel his cunt clench even through the fabric of your pants, a rapid rat-a-tat-tat against you that is oddly reminiscent of the headache you can feel begin to dissipate. “Take your pleasure, pup.”

He nods vehemently against you, beginning to hump as his tail swishes side to side, side to side, hypnotizing you just slightly. It’s hard to parse it out in the dark, but the shadow of it is undeniable behind him. Each bounce of your leg makes Gorou whimper, and he’s quick to crane his neck up for a kiss to muffle himself. You grant his request easily, but only for a minute; after, you gently part from him to murmur, so quiet that only he could possibly hear, those big, soft ears of his twitching as he strains, “What else do you want, honey?”

“Want you,” he whines, grinding harshly once, twice. “Want you inside me, want you to breed me.”

You didn’t expect that, but you’re a doctor, after all; it’s kinda in the job description to roll with the punches, so you do. “You wanna get fucked full of pups?” you ask, teasing and light, but Gorou’s mouth parts as a loud whine crawls out of his chest.

“Yes! Please.” Thick tears begin to drop from his eyes, saltwater dribbling onto the bare skin of your throat. “Now, now—breed me now,” he begs, and you coo at him, bringing your hands to curl into his hair, rubbing soothing circles into the base of one puppydog ear.

“Patience, pup.”

And, because he’s Gorou, and Gorou is nothing but a good boy, he nods, rapid-quick movements of his head, and begins to slow on your thigh. Heat shimmers low in your belly as he steps back from you on shaky legs, a wet splotch across your leg from his cunt. You bring a hand down, meaning to scoop it up off your pant, but your finger brushes two distinctly different textures: his natural slick, and fuckin’ lube. “Did you prepare yourself for me?”

“Y-yeah,” he mutters, tail tucking itself between his legs. You almost cringe at that, knowing he’s smearing himself into his own fur, but if he doesn’t mind, then you won’t either; besides, it’s hard to truly care when your boyfriend is so bashful in front of you. “I—I missed you, ‘nd wanted to be ready for you.”

The image of Gorou, ass up on the bed with four of his fingers stuffed up inside of himself flitters across your mind, makes your cock throb in your britches. Your erection was easy to ignore, earlier; but now it’s abject torture.

However, it’s not nearly as torturous as it was for your boyfriend, and you know this. You know he didn’t cum, know his fingers are far too short to truly reach in deep and press against his g-spot, know his wrist can’t comfortably bend to jerk himself off and finger himself at the same time. So you coo, soft, “Sweet boy. Where’s your toy?”

“Charging,” he mutters.

You grin at that: it’s perfect. “Can you go get it then, puppy?”

With an audible swallow, he nods, rushing for your bedroom. You follow behind him, lethargic but so, so turned on; and while he’s grabbing the vibrator from the corner, you shuck off the rest of your clothes and plop yourself down on the edge of your bed.

He must not expect you to have followed him, however, because once he turns around, he jumps, ears flattening to his head in embarrassment. You only laugh and pat your lap. “C’mere.”

Quickly—and toy in tow—, he shuffles over to you. He stands awkwardly in front of you for a moment before you murmur, “I said c’mere,” and tug him to straddle your lap. The position immediately forces his cock—slick n’ thick, out of its hood and throbbing incessantly—against yours, and he mewls helplessly for a moment, grinds once, twice again, before he grabs the lube to the side of you.

You hadn’t even noticed it there, but now that he’s grabbed it, pointed it out, you feel other wet spots beneath you. He fuckin’ masturbated here, right on the duvet you both sleep under, thinkin’ about you and only you. You’re taking out of your musings when he slathers up your cock in lube, messy and sloppy, and then he’s rising, positioning you, and sinking right on down.

“Mm!” he cries out, swiveling his hips to take you in deeper, deeper, deeper. You groan at the lube-slick combination that smothers your cock in Gorou, Gorou, Gorou. “Breed me, breed me!” Each meak plea makes your cock pulse inside him, and he mewls at each throb inside him. “Please!”

“I got you, pup,” you murmur, your edge so close you can taste it on the tip of your tongue. “Just make yourself feel good, and I’ll breed you, okay? Okay, puppy?”

“Okay, okay—”

You grin. “Good boy,” you say, and then he’s tumbling over the edge and bringing you right down with him. You groan into his throat, feeling the vibrations of his whimpers n’ whining moans as he’s getting thoroughly bred. Your hands ruck up his shirt to hold his sides and soothe him down from his high. “You did so good for me, sweetheart. Bred you just like I promised I would, hm?”

He weakly nods. “Thank you,” he mumbles, nosing at your throat.

And, well. You’re bloody exhausted, and you promised to breed him, and he can’t keep on being bred if you pull out. You tell yourself you’re only upholding your promise as Gorou falls asleep on your cock, breathing deep on your lap: tell yourself that it’s the lingering tiredness that suddenly seems to hit you in full-force that keeps him warm and snug on you.

Really, clean-up can wait.

i got a lil' carried away on lyney's part ,, o(*^＠^*)o also, none of these were really cowgirl 'cos reader was sitting up for it . . . i couldn't think of how to have him lay flat in these scenarios LOLL

13 MAR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .

#ㅤ✦【 ASKS 】#i used to have very frequent headaches and the only way i could abate them was:#1) midol (god's gift to earth i stg)#and 2) jrking off.#so !!#sub genshin #genshin smut #genshin x reader #sub gaming #gaming x reader #sub lyney #lyney x reader #sub gorou #gorou x reader #lord .#top reader #dom reader #amab reader #male reader

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surftrips · 5 months

Text

BAD REPUTATION | LUKE CASTELLAN

HEARTBREAKER — CHAPTER 02

pairing luke castellan x fem!ares!reader

summary y/n is challenged by campers and her growing feelings for luke castellan.

author's note thank you for all the support on this series! i made a masterlist here so you can easily find the parts <3 as always, comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the taglist and lmk your thoughts :)

→ installment of this au read for context

Luke Castellan found it increasingly harder and harder to hide his feelings for you. He could no longer make eye contact with you without his face turning an embarrassing shade of red. In fact, he could hardly look at your face because somehow his eyes would always end up darting toward your lips, or even lower if you were wearing a certain tank top that day.

“My eyes are up here, Castellan,” you quipped at him once.

Quite frankly, it was ruining his own reputation around camp as the best swordsman and a stoic warrior. If word got out that he fell to his knees at the hands of an Ares girl, what would people think of him?

As stories of your excellent skills got around, so did rumors about you. Everyone was interested to hear whose heart you had broken next, all because of that first fateful incident with a camper named Connor.

Connor, son of Apollo, thought that he could challenge you to an archery competition. He had bet that if he won, he could take you out on a date. How could you resist the urge to prove him wrong?

A small crowd had gathered to watch the two of you. Some people rooted for Connor, trusting that his combat skills would be stronger because of his father. However, the innate strength and talent from your own godly father allowed you to become familiar with the bow and arrow rather quickly.

“Careful, or one of your siblings will have to heal you later,” you warned.

“Oh, I think you’re the one that’s going to end up at my cabin later,” Connor responded snarkily.

You hated losing. It wasn’t an option for you. You didn’t care that Connor technically had the upper hand here, you were going to beat him regardless.

The rules were simple: there were four targets. Whoever hit the most points, won.

Connor went first, hitting an impressive 34 points.

“Beat that, pretty girl.”

You tried not to cringe at his nickname for you, and confidently walked up to the front. You quickly scanned the crowd, eyes landing on the brunette-haired boy you didn't realize you were looking for. Luke smiled at you, and suddenly everyone else faded away.

Turning back toward the targets, you lined up your bow and arrow and took the first shot. You hit eight points, which was not bad, but you were going to have to do better in order to win.

Trying to hone in on your training, you closed your eyes for the next shot and trusted your instincts. You heard the arrow hitting wood and before you could open your eyes, cheers had erupted from the crowd. Bullseye.

With 17 points left to beat Connor, you had to hit at least another bullseye. And you did just that.

Turning to Connor, you said, “Any last words before I take this final shot?”

“What time am I picking you up tonight?” he said, not losing hope just yet. You had to give it to him and his tireless persistence.

Your eyes focused in on the last target, until all you could see was the gold center. It kind of looked like the sun, and reminded you of a certain someone. You released the arrow, but at the last second felt your finger flinch.

Shit, you thought. But the crowd had already begun cheering again, and you breathed out a sigh of relief. You had hit eight on the last one, just enough to win.

“Okay, who’s next?” you declared triumphantly, not missing the disappointed look on Connor's face.

After the competition, Luke walked over to congratulate you on your win.

“Hey, that was sick!” He placed his hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, thanks!”

“You’re not beating yourself up over that last one, are you?”

“Wh- how’d you know?” You were silently cursing yourself for not making that last bullseye and blowing Connor completely out of the water.

“I know you, Y/N. Don’t look so surprised.”

“Okay, well, what am I thinking right now?”

“Hmmm,” he pretended to be lost in thought. “Dinner?”

“You know me so well.”

Ever since then, various people at camp had challenged you to their own duels in an effort to ask you out, just for you to beat them time and time again.

You weren’t sure why anyone thought you would be interested in them, when you had not once expressed a want for any sort of romantic entanglements. Because that’s all they were to you, entanglements. Complicated messes that were hard to get out of.

“Okay, I need boy advice,” Annabeth announced.

“No,” you responded. This was the first of many sleepovers you, her, and Clarisse would have together.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“That’s my advice, do yourself a favor and just don’t.”

“Okay, what’s the story?” the young girl asked.

“I dated this guy once. Long story short, all men do is disappoint you. It’s not worth it.”

“I second that,” Clarisse joined in.

“Wait- who do you like?” you asked, processing Annabeth’s original question.

“Oh, forget it. I’m not gonna tell you guys now,” she responded.

“No, you have to tell us!” Clarisse insisted.

When Annabeth didn’t respond, you and Clarisse began throwing pillows at her.

“Stop! Stop!” she giggled. “Fine, fine. I’ll tell you guys.”

You and Clarisse waited with baited breath as Annabeth formed his name in her mouth. “Percy.”

Chaos ensued. You’re pretty sure that you squealed loud enough to break glass and Clarisse nearly woke up the cabin on the other side of camp. Luckily for you guys, it was a weekend that many of the campers had gone home for.

“Why are you guys cheering?” Annabeth asked, confused.

“Because we’re happy for you! Your first crush is so exciting!” Clarisse said.

Annabeth had always been like a younger sister to you and Clarisse, and you couldn’t help but be happy for her, despite your personal feelings about love.

“Y/N, what do you think?” Annabeth turned to you.

“I think you don’t even need our advice. Just be yourself, I’m sure he already thinks you’re amazing.”

The young girl beamed at you. “I thought you were anti-boys.”

“I am, if it were up to me, there would be no boys here.”

“Not even Luke?” Annabeth asked, feigning innocence.

“Well, is he a boy?” you responded.

“Yeah, but not just any boy….” Clarisse joined in.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you sat up on your elbows in bed.

“Y/N, just admit it! He’s different!” Annabeth said.

“No, he’s still just a boy,” you said, trying to convince them, or yourself.

Annabeth and Clarisse looked at each other knowingly, but dropped the subject before upsetting you further.

The truth was, the thought of Luke Castellan terrified you.

At first, you didn’t want to admit it. There was no way Luke Castellan liked you, and there was absolutely no way that you liked him back. Not in any universe, above or on earth. Not after you had made it your whole mission to swear off boys completely.

Sure, you constantly picked each other as partners in Capture the Flag, sat next to each other over bonfires, and talked to each other everyday, but nothing friends didn’t do.

You tried to be oblivious to his longing glances at you, the way his face lit up when he saw you, but Annabeth and Clarisse were not shy in pointing out each time he smiled at you like you hung the moon and stars.

For years, Luke had repressed his emotions for fear of being perceived as weak. But each time you came around, he wondered if love could even be equated to weakness if he had never felt anything stronger.

Liked by lukecastellan and 170 others.

tagged annaaabeth and clarisse

ynuser with the girls 🏹💕

view all comments.

annaaabeth love youuu

clarisse so much fun!

lukecastellan ur foul for that last pic

ynuser whose side are you on

percyjackson second pic is me to you when i don't get invited to the sleepover :(

—

TAGLIST: @ravisinghs-wife @jules-loves-lukecastellan @favreader23 @clydeisalsoellie @yuminako @luxreziaa @eddiesdrummergf @whataprettyshadeofred @grace-928 @girls-and-guts @supercutszns @noodlesketchbook @birdiewriteslit @mitskiswift99 @idontevencare1223 @randomnpc456 @lucycarlisleswife @angelicdanvers @imguce @anitatvd (please lmk if you want to be added or i missed you!)

#bad rep series #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson series #percy jackson #pjo #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson x reader #pjo x you #luke castellan x you

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know-its-for-the-better · 2 months

Text

living w schlatt hcs

guys im down so bad this week and with today's p.o. unboxing i fear it only got worse. anyways i just had a bunch of thoughts ab what it would be like to live w schlatt while y'all are dating. so these are my hcs. (also i am like incredibly new to writing original material so lmk if this is any good fr)

-this is not the first or last time this will be said but this man is an ass grabber. as soon as he knows it's something you're okay with? he's doing it. not in public, bc in my head he's not big on PDA, but when you're at home? every time he passes by you it's a grab of the ass and a big cheesy grin and he sometimes even a kiss on the cheek

-again, not the first time anyone has mentioned this, but this man is giant. 6'4. so he's def a big fan of the hug from behind. he likes to tower over you and kiss the top of your head. whether you're cooking, cleaning, looking out the window, or admiring jambo on his cat tree; he will come up and squeeze you into a hug from behind with no warning.

-"toots, come here rq" just to ask for a kiss while he's working or editing. simply as motivation to keep going. he says "it's like a reward" and you happily oblige.

-since he doesn't really stream anymore, he doesn't play a lot of video games, but when he does, he lets you sit in his lap as long as you sit still and don't distract him... (obviously you do sometimes... not your fault you have needs and he looks so cute when he's focused...)

-the drunk chuckle sandwich episode had me thinking about you playing bartender for him and making him different drinks to try since he usually just drinks straight from the bottle. he would say some shit like "i'm ngl i didn't know you could make it taste that good." bc nobody ever really bothered to make him try different cocktails until you

-super domestic dancing in the kitchen to old music. duke ellington and etta james and all different kinds of jazz and old love songs, it doesn't matter bc he is spinning you around and kissing you softly as it plays in the background while he sings to you.

-not to be cringe but he would sooo be into that thing those couples do when the smaller partner says "uppies!" and then the other one picks them up. except it would just be a look you give him and putting your arms out with a grabby motion and he would know.(bc im sorry the thought of saying uppies makes me wanna gag) he would pick you up and carry you around like a koala with your legs wrapped around his torso AND he's happy to do it. but just at home bc like i said he's not really into pda.

-he would so take candid pics of you at golden hour. you'd just be in the living room looking out the window with jambo or {redacted} and admiring the sunset and next thing you know there's a disposable camera or the little girl camera right in your face. he would so say some stupid shit to get you to laugh and then snap the picture. but once he gets one, you force him to hop in the frame while holding the other cat so you can get a cute little family pic while the lighting is good. obviously, you made it your background within the next ten minutes. and he made his background the candid picture of you the second he got the pictures onto his phone.

ok so hi!! i hope these fed you a little im so incredibly new to this whole writing thing but this was a lot of fun for me so if you have any suggestions i think my ask box is open? idk how those work but im sure i can figure it out. thanks for reading i know i yapped quite a bit LMAO

#schlatt x you #schlatt x reader #schlatt #schlatt fluff #jschlatt x you #jschlatt fluff #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt #jschlatt hcs #jschlatt headcanons #schlatt hcs #schlatt headcanons

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mydearzero · 9 months

Note

Hello!! I was wondering if maybe you could do something with sub!Spencer and dacryphilia?

I also just wanted to say that I really enjoy reading all of your work and I'm so impressed with what you write! You have become one of my favorite writers on this platform!

now this, this is too good to not write. thanks for reading and the request! it's an honorary title to be called one of your favourites so I thank you! ♡

Pretty When You Cry | sub!Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You hear Spencer crying after he'd overheard you joke about him with Derek. You better check in on him, right? Except he's definitely not crying. You find him in a... compromising situation. But he's not crying. You better rectify that.

Contents: NO Y/N, sub!Spencer, dom!Reader, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, co-workers, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie, orgasm delay, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, praise kink, overuse of 'good boy', If I missed any warnings please tell me!

2.7K words

"I bet he keeps his socks on," you joked, stealing a piece of candy from Derek and popping it in your mouth. He threw his head back in a hearty chuckle.

"Or he takes only one off. Whichever one fits the vibe stays, since he's always mismatching." Derek added. He was about to continue, but you cut him off with a panicked look, spotting Spencer with a frown on his face.

"If you guys wanted to know whether I keep my socks on, you could've just asked. There's no need to speculate and joke about my sex life behind my back. But I guess that's what pricks do." Spencer stomped to his desk, not making any eye contact.

"No need to get so worked up over it, Reid. You should really take that edge off, somehow. You can whine either way." You continued chewing on the tough candy, taking another one from Morgan and throwing it in Spencer's direction when he didn't reply.

"Yeah, Pretty Boy. When's the last time you got laid?" Derek raised an eyebrow. Spencer visibly tensed before pushing himself away from his desk and walking off.

Convinced you'd upset him, you told Derek you'd go after him. Derek shrugged, saying he was heading home.

You nearly collided with Hotch as he was leaving his office, clearly headed home.

"Don't stay too late, there's a lot of catching up to do that can wait until tomorrow morning," he mentioned before walking to the elevator.

You knocked on Rossi's door, entering when he answered. "Hey, did you see where Reid went? I think I might've upset him," you cringed.

"I'm pretty sure there's nothing you can do that could possibly upset the kid. But he walked down the hall to the left from what I saw." Rossi clasped his hands together.

"Thanks, Rossi. You're a lifesaver."

You bid him goodbye before following his directions down the hall. You heard soft noises from one of the empty offices near the end of the long, winding hallway. It sounded like... Spencer?

Was he crying? You hadn't thought he was that upset.

You creaked the door open as silently as humanly possible, ready to console him and apologize for your teasing.

You couldn't see him clearly, the light from the hallway polluting your vision into the dimly lit office. But you could hear him. God, could you hear him.

The soft whines emitting from his throat drowned out the barely audible noise of his slick hand sliding over his hard length.

Your heart rate skyrocketed. Spencer's touching himself. You felt a wicked smile creep upon your lips.

You listened in on him a little longer, determining whether you were daydreaming or if the universe was really throwing this situation in your lap.

His soft whines turned into pleas. It was obvious this wasn't the first time for his current fantasy. It seemed played out.

You knew it was your lucky day when a begging whisper of your name fell off his lips. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Your hand crept through the gap of the door, hand blindly seeking the light switch. You found it but didn't yet turn it on.

You heard him get closer to the edge, exactly where you wanted him. When the noises of his hand sped up, desperately so, you made your move.

You slammed the door open and turned on the bright, white light simultaneously. Spencer jumped to gather himself, wide eyes meeting your own.

"What are you doing, Spencer?" Your tone was mocking. You already knew the answer, and Spencer had never felt more caught. His breath was haggard, eyes glazed over, lips pouting. He looked like a little puppy.

"I'm- I was just- Uh-" Spencer stammered. You gave him a condescending smile.

"I- Uh- I- You what, Spencer?" You finally walked into the room, closing the door behind you. You took slow steps towards the leather couch.

Spencer was frozen. You never called him by his first name. He'd managed to haphazardly tuck himself back into his pants, but a small wet spot was already forming on the front. He'd been so close.

He refused to look at you, choosing to stare at his lap, where his hands were unsubtly crossed over his crotch. You examined him for a second before taking his chin in your hand, squeezing his cheeks slightly. You turned his face upwards, forcing him to meet your eyes.

"Answer my question, Spencer," you demanded. He looked up at you through damp lashes. He'd really worked up a sweat.

He made a couple desperate noises but couldn't utter a coherent sentence. You raised your eyebrows. A constricted sigh left him as he looked at you in desperation.

"What's the matter, baby? You usually have so much to say. Don't you have an answer for me, boy genius?" You pouted sarcastically. Your grip on his chin tightened.

"I-" Spencer's eyes glazed over.

"-was touching myself? Yeah, I gathered as much," you finished for him. You turned his face, examining it from every angle as you slowly brought your foot up to his crotch.

"Move your hands, Pretty Boy," you demanded, pressing your foot against them. Spencer's eyes squeezed shut, slowly moving his hands. You chuckled darkly as you felt up his length.

You tossed his head to the side and pushed on his shoulder, making him fall back against the couch. You slowly moved your legs to either side of his, straddling him. You moved your hips experimentally, purposely grinding against his clothed cock for good measure.

His hands reached for your waist, but you grabbed his wrists before he could. "No touching. Sit on them if you think you can't stop yourself."

Spencer moved quickly, tucking his hands under his thighs. You ran your fingers over the side of his face. He really was pretty. You stroked a finger between his eyebrows in an attempt to iron out the crease. His face and entire body were tense with anticipation.

You ground your hips agonizingly slow. Your sluggish movement was obviously not enough for the whimpering man under you, but he knew better than to do anything about it.

You would've continued your teasing longer, but you knew he'd been close to coming seconds before you barged in. You felt the wet spot on his slacks grow larger with the movement. He trashed, uncertainty written on his face. He had to touch you, had to move, had to do something, but he couldn't.

"Please," Spencer uttered the magic word you'd been waiting for. You smiled and got off his lap, getting on your knees in front of the couch.

You reached for his belt and undid it, all while your eyes never left his. You slowly tugged the slacks down, along with his boxers. His cock bounced free instantly, throbbing and red. Spencer clenched his eyes shut at the sensation.

"Nu-uh, Spence. Look at me. Don't you want to be a good boy?" Your fingers wrapped around his shaft menacingly.

"Yes! Yes, please. Want to be a good boy for you. Only you. Please," he begged.

You smiled in satisfaction as you gave him a squeeze. Spencer threw his head back at the sensation, only to push it back and meet your eyes like you'd enforced.

You moved forward and leaned over his lap, bringing the tip of his weeping dick to your mouth. You gave the slit a kittenish lick, collecting some pre-cum on your tongue.

You saw Spencer breathe heavily, trying to contain himself. He bit his lip, attempting to suppress any noise, but failing miserably.

You never took him into your mouth fully, only licking around the tip and squeezing his shaft every so often.

"So good for me, Spence. You're gonna have to be quiet, though. Rossi's still here, and you know what a gossip he is," You stroked him as you spoke. You sped up your pace, enjoying seeing him try to stay quiet.

His legs twitched, and you knew he was getting close. You quickly pulled your hand off him and got up off the floor. A loud groan left him at the loss of sensation, hips shooting up off the couch.

The sound of his frantic breaths was like music to your ears.

You moved to stand over him, tugging at the hem of his sweater vest.

"C'mon, baby. Hands up," you urged, pulling the fabric over his head. You reached for his tie, undoing it and setting it aside for later.

"Take your shirt off," you commanded, stepping back to watch the show. Spencer removed his hands from where he sat on them, watching you as he struggled to unbutton the shirt. You leaned against the desk nonchalantly, admiring your fingernails.

He nearly sobbed in despair, shaking hands unable to undo the buttons. You liked him like this; helpless and desperate. You laughed at him, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he finally got the last button opened. He hastily rid himself of the shirt and searched your face for approval.

"Hmm, good job, baby. Now, put those hands back where they came from. Remember, no touching," you reminded him. He tucked them back under his legs, and you pet his hair in approval before reaching for where you'd placed his tie.

"Say 'Ah'," you motioned for him to copy you. He hesitantly opened his mouth. You raised an eyebrow, and he quickly opened it further. You placed the fabric of his tie in his mouth, tying it behind his head. He gurgled a little, struggling to give the makeshift gag a place.

You got back on his lap, putting a hand in his hair and tugging at the roots. Spencer yelped but clearly liked the pain, eyes dilating. You moved his head backwards, exposing his neck for you. You placed a few kisses on his jaw, before moving down to his neck. You sucked several spots before finding the sweet spot that had him whimpering once again. His hands shot up from under his thighs, reaching for your ass.

You removed your mouth from his neck, yanking at his hair. "Did I give you permission to touch me?"

Spencer shook his head aggressively.

"Words, baby."

"N-no, ma'am," he stuttered. You smirked. Ma'am, huh? You liked the sound of that.

"Good boy," you whispered in his ear. His hips ground upwards, desperate for attention. You decided you were done toying with him. You were glad you'd worn a somewhat loose skirt to work that day.

You reached between your thighs, pulling your underwear aside. You lined yourself up, steadying yourself with one hand on Spencer's shoulder, the other on his cock.

You sunk down, only slipping the tip inside before stopping. Your legs were going to kill you tomorrow, holding up your weight above his length, but it was worth it for the tears welling up in Spencer's eyes.

"You're gonna cry?" You mocked, hand returning to grip his chin and squish his cheeks. He tried to keep it in, but the second you sunk down, fully sheathing him inside, the tears spilt, rolling down his cheeks.

"You're so pretty when you cry, Spencer. My gorgeous little crybaby," You admitted. You lifted your hips, pushing them back down against his harshly. More tears ran down his face.

"Shh, baby. Filling me up so nicely. Such a good boy for me." You assured him, setting a slow pace and bouncing on his cock.

"Please, faster. Just a little, please," Spencer pleaded through the gag, almost unintelligibly. You pretended to think it over.

"No, I don't think I will," you decided. It was mean. He begged you so nicely. A sob wrecked his throat. There it is.

He convulsed in a mixture of pleasure and desperation, hips snapping up to meet yours.

"Please, oh my God, Please!" It was like the only words left in his vocabulary were ones to beg for you. He sounded angelic.

You barely increased your speed, but Spencer went berserk over it. You brought a hand to his face, wiping away the tears and looking into his eyes.

"Such a good boy, so pretty. You're so good for me, Spencer," you babbled, losing your grip on the situation. He was hitting the right spot inside you over and over again.

You closed your eyes in pleasure, frantically sliding on his dick. "Fuck, Spencer," a breathy moan escaped you.

A newfound, frenzied whine reached your ears. You opened your eyes to look at Spencer, who seemed to calm at the eye contact. He wanted to watch you, make sure he was being good.

"M-more, Fu-more, Pl-please," Spencer stuttered. He could barely get the words out over the gag and pleasure soaring through his veins.

You obeyed, bringing your hands back to his hair and tugging harshly. You leaned forward to whisper in his ear, taking the tie out of his mouth. "You can touch me, now. Touch me, Spencer. Make me come. Make me come like a good boy."

Spencer groaned loudly at the words, hands immediately moving to your waist. His hips started moving uncontrollably, desperately chasing his release.

You tugged at his hair in warning. "I said make me come, baby. I didn't say you could."

His eyes widened, and he quickly moved his hands between your bodies, seeking eye contact to ask for permission. You nodded wildly, growing more desperate for your own release.

His fingers made quick work of finding your clit, rubbing ferociously. The sensation sent you reeling, moaning loudly in his ear. A particularly sharp thrust nearly made you scream, tightening your grip on his gorgeous locks. "Shit, Spencer! Fuck, so good. So fucking good, baby. So big inside of me."

You could feel Spencer was nearing his release again. This time, you had no intention to stop him, but he didn't know that. He was still frantically trying to tip you over the edge and succeeding. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, losing your grip on his hair and falling forward against his naked chest. Your hands found leverage on the couch, digging your nails in the leather as Spencer continued fucking up into you.

"Please, can I come? Please, let me come with you. 've been a good boy, right?" Spencer begged. His desperate whines sounded so good, incoherent mumbles of "Oh my God" and "Please" repeatedly falling off his lips.

"Yes, you can come for me, Spencer. Come with me. Make me come on your cock," you encouraged.

Spencer snapped, no longer caring if anybody heard him. His whines and moans were getting higher in pitch and shorter in frequency, mirroring your own.

"F-feel so good around me. So tight. So good. Gonna come, g- gonna," Spencer's hips stuttered, thick length throbbing as he pushed it deep inside one last time.

"Fuck, Spencer!"

"Oh my God, oh my God, f-fuck," Spencer was unusually vulgar as he coated your walls. You sat down on his cock for a minute, gathering your breath and wiping the tears and other fluids from Spencer's face.

You pushed a strand of hair away from his eyes and smiled timidly at him. "Hi."

Spencer laughed a little and smiled back, breath still irregular. "Hi, yourself."

"You good? I didn't go too far? I'm sorry for springing that on you, Reid. I didn't mean to make you cry." You ran your hands over his chest.

"No! It was perfect. I loved it. T'was just really intense, you know?" He reassured you. "And please, we're past the last name basis now, don't you think?" You nodded and smiled, admiring his face for a second longer before carefully sliding yourself off him.

Spencer winced, incredibly sensitive. Your sadistic side bubbled to the surface, if only for a split second, and gave his overstimulated cock a couple of tugs. He trashed against your touch, loud, pained wails falling from his lips. You let him go, walking to the desk and grabbing a couple of tissues to clean yourself up.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," you smirked. Spencer's chest was heaving, but there was a satisfied smile on his face.

"I guess you do have your answer now. I still have my socks on."

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jymwahuwu · 3 months

Text

CW: yandere, non-con, fingering, forced orgasm

@honkai-star-thirsty I thought about what you said in reblog and then wrote something🥺💖Hmm, fingering… And it's kind of funny that he claims the ring is missing inside😹

"A routine check, my friend. Just to make sure you don't have anything interesting on you." Not sure why, but you were invited to the IPC's business meeting and taken to a suspicious little room. Aventurine personally helped with the inspection. You looked at him dubiously. "W-what should I do?"

"It's simple. Why don't you take off your coat and jewelry? It's part of the procedure."

You did as you were told, but his demands became more and more excessive. You swore you'd hit him on the head if he asked for more after you took off your shoes and weapons, but he then said he wanted to check your lower body and pulled your panties down. You didn't have time to react, you were taken aback. "What did you do?"

"Please do not make a fuss. Each guest is subject to formal inspection. The last enemy to visit IPC headquarters carried weapons on their laps."

"that's your IPC problem!!" You were speechless. “What kind of company would be subject to so many attacks?”

(He spreads your thighs and touches your private parts with his gloves.) Aventurine smiled softly at your annoyed words. "I agree with you, actually." Awkward and bewildered moment. You shudder as his fingers rub and press into you. Strange feeling in the gloves. And the way his fingers skillfully spread your walls. "What are you doing?!"

"Hmm, weird. Someone reported to me that one of my rings was missing. You know. It's expensive. Inspection is a must." "I-I'm sick of all the shit you claim. Shit!!” But now the fingers are sliding and thrusting full force inside you. Your legs trembled, watching in horror as your reaction changed, pleasurable, exciting, and at the same time cringe-worthy pleasure surrounding your private parts.

Impossible- you can't-

You couldn't stop your moans and tears, you could only cover your mouth. At the same time, a pool of obscene water on the ground showed what had happened. Aventurine waved his hand leisurely, the rings on his gloves glistening and stained with your fluids.

"It seems that the ring has not been found yet. The next inspection needs to be arranged."

#aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #honkai star rail x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail aventurine #hsr aventurine #honkai star rail x you

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emeritusemeritus · 3 months

Text

I didn’t want to be alone [Eddie Munson X Reader]

Title: I didn’t want to be alone.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader {Established friendship but deliberately vague, can be romantic or not}. Platonic!Wayne Munson&Reader.

Timeline: Non-specified. There’s a brief mention of ‘trauma’ that I’d originally written as events from ST 1-3 but it could be anything. Insert your troubles here.

Summary: When things in your mind get bad, you know you always have a place to go.

Warnings: Brief mentions of trauma, illusions of mental illness. Sadness/ depression. This is a comfort fic. Wayne looks after us. Wayne Munson being the father figure we all need.

Word count: 3.4k

This is a complete comfort fic that I wrote to try and make myself feel better, a concept I came up with to try and get to sleep one night. My toddler isn’t sleeping, I haven’t slept properly for days and I’m losing my mind- keep me in your thoughts as I drown in coffee.

The last thing Wayne Munson expected to see when he pulled up to his trailer at 4am after his monthly half shift was your car; he especially didn't expect to see you sat stationary within the car, staring blankly up towards the dark trailer home. He frowns as he cuts the engine to his beat up truck, grabs his trusty brown thermos and metal lunchbox before he climbs out of the truck. When his eyes fix on you again, he sees that you haven't moved even an inch, not even acknowledging his approach. Your chin rests on your arm slung over the wheel, body slumped down in your seat with a vacant expression on your face, eyes heavy and pained. He can tell immediately that something isn't right with you, your body language completely thrown off as you stare into the void, unaware of everything around you.

He'd seen you look like this only once before, but Eddie had mentioned in passing that you'd had 'episodes' one or two times before, something about trauma, something that had haunted you from a few years back. Wayne was a simple man and didn't pretend to know what any of that meant, nor would he intrude and ask you about it when you so clearly didn't want to open up about what was plaguing you. He figured better people with bigger brains than he would be the only people that could understand what you were going through, but he'd try his best to help you where he could.

Wayne knows better than to make you jump in your impaired state and so he tried to delicately walk over to your car, putting himself directly in your eye line so that you wouldn't be alarmed once you realised he was there. It takes a minute or so for your eyes to focus on him, flicking over at the slow movement in your peripheral vision. Your shock at seeing him makes his eyes pull tight together in a squint, fighting the urge to frown at your unusual behaviour.

He walks over to your car door and finally takes in your appearance, the crease lines in his face getting deeper as he frowns once again, seeing that you are in no way dressed appropriately for the bitter cold, wearing only a pair of lounge shorts and an oversized band shirt that he instantly recognises as his nephew's.

You wind the window down as Wayne leans in, careful to be gentle with you as he sees the glassy, pained look still overwhelming your face, even after you'd broken out of your trance.

"What're you doing here girl? Got your key don't ya?" He says, trying his hardest to keep his tone balanced and his voice gentle; not an easy feat for a self proclaimed gruff, southern born hick like Wayne.

Wayne cringes as he feels the low temperature inside your car, the cold drifting out from your rolled down window. Somehow the inside of your car was even colder than the crisp, early morning air outside. Only then did Wayne remember you complaining that the heat and the ac in your car had busted a couple of weeks ago, but you couldn't afford to get it fixed right away on account of your 'full time student and part time waitress' salary.

You stare at him for a lingering moment, not even making a single attempt to reply as you usually would, the only sign that you had heard him at all was a subtle twitch of your eye. You eventually turn to look away, averting your gaze from his concerned eyes to stare back towards the trailer which was pitch black inside with no sign of life.

"I didn't know what to do," you said quietly, your voice timid and weak as you fought to push out your thoughts. "I remembered what you said about coming over anytime I needed to not be alone, but then I remembered the date and that Eddie was away at his gig. Then I remembered you said that Eddie didn't even have to be here, when you gave me the spare key. I got in my car and drove here but then I got stuck, not able to go inside because I'd be a burden but I couldn't leave either."

Wayne was quiet at he listened intently to you, giving you the time you needed to explain, knowing how hard it must be for you to speak your thoughts out loud. He silently nods gently, knowing at least partially what you were feeling as he acknowledges your troubles. He thinks it strange how often you said 'remembered' in the sentence, knowing that your words sounded uncharacteristic but he assumes that it is just you voicing your thoughts as they appeared in your head. His heart breaks a little at hearing your sad words, knowing that you must have felt real bad to have jumped in your car and drove all the way out here without thought of a jacket.

"Let's get you inside, 'fore ya catch a damn cold," he says gently, wanting to get you into the warmth as he sees goose flesh spreading across your skin and the unmistakable bounce of your leg from your body fighting the cold. He expects to be met with more resistance than you offer as you simply nod and reach for the keys that are still in the ignition. He opens the door for you, juggling his belongings in his arms as he leads you up the concrete steps to the trailer and unlocks the door, offering a tiny smile of empathy at you as he steps aside, allowing you to enter first.

As you step in, you're immediately met with stagnant warm air from the trailer being shut up all day, retaining the last slithers of heat emitted by the old space heater Wayne must have had on before he went to work. The trailer smells like home to you and immediately offers a level of comfort that you could never get anywhere else. There's a lingering smell of cigarette smoke which hangs thick in the air, mixed with a hint of Eddie's cheap cologne and old spice, old coffee and the overwhelming scent of both Eddie and Wayne, their warm natural scents mixing to create the personalised blend of the Munson trailer.

You tentatively take a seat on the couch once offered by Wayne, who immediately sets to turning on a few lamps before boiling some water for a warm drink for you both, throwing down his lunchbox and thermos on the counter in the process. He grabs two mugs from the cabinet, but immediately changes his mind as he thinks of way to cheer you up. He walks past you to reach for one of his many display mugs, grabbing your favourite of the bunch and rinses it in the sink before setting the two mugs aside to make a drink. He begins to pull out the coffee but stops himself, knowing that the last thing you need is a blast of caffeine in your system and so he reached for the small box of tea that he kept in just for you, pulling out your preferred flavour as he makes the drinks.

He takes a look at you as he waits for the water to boil, finally seeing you in the light that he'd turned on as you entered. Your eyes look dark and sunken, dark purple circles formed underneath your once sparkly eyes, telling him that you hadn't slept a wink. Your hair was haphazardly thrown up into a messy bun, faint smudges of mascara were present under your eyes and overall you looked thoroughly exhausted.

When he walks over to you, he's delicate with his approach, offering the tea out to you with a gentle smile. He notices your eyes widening slightly once you spot the special mug and a small smile tugs at your lips which he's thankful for as it means your coming out of your dark place. You mumble a thank you as you cradle the warm Star Wars mug in your hands, the heat rolling through your cold and shivering body.

"You wanna talk about it?" He says quietly, taking a seat and bringing his own mug to his lips. He sees a frown form on your eyebrows before your eyes close and you shake your head no at his suggestion. He simply nods, respecting your decision and giving you the grace of not asking any follow up questions.

"I'm sorry," your little voice says after a few silent moments.

"Don't ever be sorry, you did the right thing by coming here darlin," Wayne replies sweetly, to which you reply with a kind and grateful smile. "You're welcome here night or day."

Neither of you speaks for a moment, though it's a comfortable shared silence rather than an awkward interlude.

"So how come you ain't with Eddie at his gig?" Wayne asks a few moments later, taking another sip of his coffee. Your eyes flash with angst again and he suddenly regrets asking as your face drops slightly, not realising that his question could trigger you.

"I had an exam, couldn't get out of it," you shrugged gently, not managing to lift your eyes up from their fixed point upon your mug, watching the steam rise from the hot tea inside.

"You do okay?" Wayne asks, feeling a little awkward at asking. Eddie had always been a handful, especially when it came to doing his homework and anything academic, and Wayne's questioning of how projects went or finals or whatever else had fallen on deaf ears many years ago.

You nodded gently in reply, a little apprehensive maybe, "yeah I think so, it was only after when things started to go bad."

Wayne knew immediately that you were referring to your episode earlier, and his heart ached more for the girl in front of him who seemed so broken down, the girl he had grown to care for like a daughter. You fell quiet again, staring into space looking so exhausted you could drop down where you sat.

"Tell ya what, why don't ya go lay down in Eddie's room for a while, take your tea with yer," Wayne suggests, leaning forward slightly as he talked, not quiet reaching out to you but feeling a little closer to do so. "I'll make us some grub once you wake up."

You immediately begin to weakly protest, already feeling like a burden but Wayne shuts it down quickly. "Ain't no different then having Eddie here, 'cept you got a better sense of hygiene and noise control," he joked, earning a chuckle from you. "I'll be right through here if you need anything, ain't sleeping yet and I ain't going anywhere." His voice was still gentle but his words held a level of insistence which meant you couldn't question him, knowing he was being entirely honest.

"Uncle Wayne, thank you," you smiled gently, standing up off the couch and making your way through to the familiar back room, carrying your mug, before closing the door.

Stepping into Eddie's room without him here felt a little odd, but the sight of the room alone was enough to comfort you even more. Cigarette smell lingered here too, mixed with the faint whiff of marijuana, Eddie's cheap cologne and a general boy smell which wasn't entirely unpleasant. His guitar, sweetheart, was missing off the wall, along with two of the three amps that were usually littered around on the limited floor space.

You placed your mug on the nightstand, beside the ashtray, and didn't hesitate to throw yourself down onto the bed, pulling the sheets up high so that you were essentially cocooned in them. The sheets smelt perfectly like Eddie. Bringing them up to your nose to scent him, you felt instantly calmer by the second.

You could hear the faint murmur of the tv in the lounge, knowing that Wayne would probably be watching the 5am news or a repeat of his favourite western, the Comancheros. The knowledge of him being right outside was enough to comfort you even more, knowing that you weren't alone anymore.

For the first time since your episode began, you felt like you could actually finally fall asleep; the comfy bed, the lingering scent of Eddie all around you and the soft comforter all equated to your relaxed, happy state. Your tired eyes closed on their own accord, suddenly overwhelmed by the heaviness that pulled at them and without any hesitation or conscious effort, you slipped into a deep sleep, putting the bad day behind you.

Only a few hours later, early in the morning when Eddie's van roared up the dirt road towards the trailer, music turned down only slightly from its usual blaring volume, until it came to a sharp stop right outside his trailer. He frowned when he saw not only your car but his uncles truck parked outside, not expecting either of you to be there when he got back.

He stepped into the trailer and immediately spotted his uncle lounging in his armchair, a western playing on the old tv, without any sign of you.

Eddie nods to his uncle in greeting, before opening his mouth to question your whereabouts until Wayne instantly brings his finger to his lips, attempting to silence the boy from speaking too loudly. He didn't say anything in the moment, merely pointing towards the closed door leading to Eddie's room, hoping that he'd catch what he was trying to say.

Eddie nods his head, frowning a moment later as he realised what must have happened and that he wasn't here to help.

"You're back early boy," Wayne states, reaching for the tv remote to mute it, reaching out to grab a cigarette from the pack before lighting it, watching his nephew do the same thing only moments behind him after placing down the guitar in it's carrier by the small table.

"Gig was cancelled, burst pipe, never even made it on stage," Eddie mumbled, clearly annoyed at the facts he was relaying.

"There's always next time son," Wayne replies, taking a drag of his cigarette, earning a gentle nod from his nephew. "She's asleep, told her to get down in your room."

At the mention of you, Eddie's eyes flicker to the closed door of his bedroom, a warmth filling his gut at the thought of you sleeping in his room, especially without him there. Though he hated the thought of you suffering alone, disliking the thought of it happening when he wasn't here to help a little too much, the fact that you sought out him and his home gave him a little possessive buzz.

"Thanks Wayne, for, yanno," he couldn't quite get the words out that he wanted to say, feeling a little uncomfortable at the emotional weight in the conversation. Wayne understands, he always does and gives Eddie a nod that tells him everything, the look in his eyes conveying his affection for you, especially the way that it silently says 'I'd do it for you too'.

Eddie puts out his cigarette and with one last thankful look towards his uncle, creeps down the hall to his bedroom and slides open the door, trying desperately not to spook you.

It's dark in the room, the only light peeking through the window is from the street light a few meters away that shines rays of light over you thanks to his broken blinds.

He feels a little creepy watching you sleep but he can't resist, seeing you cocooned in his own sheets looking blissfully peaceful, the demons you carried not haunting your dreams. Your hair is spread across the pillow and there's a brief moment where he is genuinely excited that his sheets will smell like you the next night.

He doesn't fully undress, only throws off his shoes and the jeans that were still heavy and filled with ticket stubs and random change that he'd accumulated on the journey to the venue and then straight back. He's delicate as he climbs into bed beside you, praying he doesn't disturb you or worse, frighten you.

He sucks in a breath when he feels you move, no doubt sensing the presence behind you and for a moment he holds his breath, trying to stay completely still.

"Eddie?" You murmur sleepily, the hopefulness in your voice making his heart beat just a little harder at the sound.

"M'here princess," he says gently, pressing his hand delicately to your shoulder. He lets out a little noise of content when you turn over in bed and snuggle down into his chest, bringing your warmth with you. The pair of you cuddling wasn't entirely unheard of, but Eddie was certain it had never been this intimate before, not that he was complaining.

"Wanna talk?" He offers after a few moments of silence, sensing that your breathing hadn't returned to your peaceful sleep pattern. You shake your head on his chest and try to snuggle further down, secretly inhaling more of his scent as you sought comfort that only he could provide.

"How was your gig?" You mumbled, sleepiness still making you slur your words just a little, feeling as if speaking in full was too much effort.

"Got cancelled princess, s'why I'm back," he explains gently. His ringed hand has started to absently rub back and forth across your back and you wish he'd never stop doing it.

"What time is it?" You ask, sitting up just enough to look at him, though you could only really make out his outline in the darkness. You frown, suddenly realising that Eddie was back much, much earlier than you'd anticipated and his words of explanation slowly sunk in. "It got cancelled, why?"

Once again, Eddie feels like the grinch with his heart expanding in significant increments, feeling it grow and swell at your distraught tone. You actually cared that the gig was cancelled.

"Pipe burst," he says with a shrug, a much calmer reaction to the news than he'd had only a few hours ago when he'd gone ballistic and kicked the tyres of his van.

"I'm sorry Eddie, you were really excited." He smiles down at you, even if you can't see it. Suddenly feeling overwhelming affection for you. He shrugs again and pulls you closer, holding on to you just a little tighter.

"So, do you come here often without me? Think I might be developing a complex here princess." Even in the dark you can hear the smirk in his voice and you use your head to jab him just a little in the ribs at his insinuation.

"Better when you're here," you mumble, resting your head again against his soft body. "Just needed you."

Eddie bites back a smile, knowing that you would never dare say that in the light of day but somehow between the darkness and the late, or early, hour, everything said between you both seems like a secret, your own little world created where nothing is out of bounds.

"How did your exam go?" He asks, still slowly running his ringer fingers across your back.

"Sssh, too much talking," you say with a smile, not wanting to think about the day before. He understands, it was a Munson's best quality after all to know when talking wasn't beneficial; when being arrested, in an argument with your woman and just occasionally when the moment was so perfect no words would be good enough.

"Coffees on me in the morning," he says, his eyes closing as he feels your breathing even out again, your body sinking further into him as sleep begins to take over.

"Mmmm, sounds nice," you say lightly, the tiredness and proximity to sleep so clear in your voice that it makes Eddie smile out into the dark room.

"Donuts too," he adds, kissing the top of your head as it rests on his chest, feeling prouder than he'd ever felt before. You'd found comfort in him and in turn he'd found comfort in you too, both of you slowly sailing off to sleep surrounded by each other, the pains of the day before disappearing entirely.

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#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #eddie munson comfort fic #eddie munson taglist #eddie munson masterlist #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie Munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #wayne munson

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lookingformoondrop · 3 months

Note

Yan!Andrew with his Reader who found out she's pregnant? Spoiler: She didn't want to have children.

Yan!Andrew Graves x Preg!Reader

TW: Unexpected pregnancy, hints at abortion, reader in captivity, manipulation, yandere Andrew, unwanted pregnancy

♡ Notes: I wrote this entire thing while on a train so you'll probably find a wild typo or error font somewhere here. I said in my last post that my next work would be a fluffy one, I lied. Sorry. Remember kids, practice safe sex, and dont act like Andy. Thank you so much for supporting me, anon! I appreciate all the requests and asks from you guys. <33

Andrew hummed as he removed his shoes and took off his coat.

Work was a drag, his boss was a dick, and his family was unbearable. But despite it all, he had you at the end of the day.

When he came home, he'd always hear your padded footsteps coming down the hall to greet him.

You'd wear one of his shirts or wear a cute outfit he'd pick out for you, all to make him happy.

He just loves you so much.

I mean, that's why he took you in the first place.

You had no idea who he was, only that he was a customer that came at odd times of the day in the cafe where you worked.

He could only guess how poor the pay must've been. How miserable you were... Yes, that's it.

As he watched you, he could spot the circles under your eyes, and he knew instantly that fate had brought you here, or maybe it was a cult summoning? Either way, you belonged with him. And he would bend heaven and earth to keep it that way.

Andrew blinked away his train of thought and looked up. He hadn't heard your footsteps.

That was unusual.

Andrew quickly slipped his bag to the ground and walked further into the house.

The kitchen was empty, minus the dishes and pots from last night's dinner that still remained untouched in the sink.

The living room was empty, minus the tissues scattered all over the floor, and the blankets that pooled the floor.

With his heart racing, he sprinted to the last room he hadn't checked. The bedroom.

He pushed the door open with haste; his eyes wildly searched the room.

The bed was unmade, and the sheets were shoved off the mattress, trailing onto the wooden floor.

As Andrew stepped further into the bedroom and he could hear the sound of the shower, and small sniffles coming from inside.

Andrew let out a sigh of relief, you hadn't left. You were still home with him. But now he had another problem to deal with.

He knocked on the bathroom door and heard a quick shuffle from the other side. The water turned off and Andrew flinched at the sound of objects crashing.

Then out you came, your eyes were red and your hair was messy, as if your fingers ran through them constantly.

You mustered a smile for Andrew, muttering out a weak 'welcome home' before Andrew grabbed your arms for inspection.

"What happened? What were you doing? Why were you crying?" He craned his neck out to try and look inside the bathroom, but you quickly closed the door.

"I was about to take a shower when you came home so uh, I dropped some bath products when I realized I hadn't greeted you." It was a horrible lie, really. You knew lying was one of Andrew's biggest pet peeves, even if he lied consistently himself.

"My little lamb, you're not making a lot of sense right now..." Andrew tried giving you a sweet smile, but the vein twitching in his forehead told you how he really felt.

His grip on your arms became tighter, and he leaned in closer, "I would like to know what you're keeping from me, please."

"I... I was crying," you cringed at how weak your voice sounded.

"Clearly, what else? Don't stall for time you don't have Y/N. Tell me who hurt you, I don't fucking care for the reason."

You peeled Andrew's hands off of you which was surprising giving his intense tone. You slowly walked to the bed and sat down, tracing the thread that was imbedded in your mattress. Your eyes lingered on the white sheets for a second too long.

Andrew followed suit, instead opting to go on his knees in front of you as to hold your hands.

He traced his name on your wrists with his finger and hummed a low tune, unremarkable at best, but it calmed your nerves.

"You are my bleeding heart, Y/N. Everything you feel, I long to taste, everything you love, I devour, and every secret you keep from me I savagely rip apart to find. What could you possibly keep from me, that I wouldn't find out in under a day?"

You kept still, refusing to meet Andrew's gaze.

"You have to promise you won't.. um, get mad." You chewed on your lip as you thought about your next words. The lump in your throat grew harder to swallow the more you thought about it.

How were you supposed to deliever such... news, when that news made you want to rip your hair out from stress.

"yeah, I promise. My little lamb, tell me, what is wrong?"

"I'm scared, Andrew." You looked up.

"Scared?" Answered Andrew, who let go of your wrists to instead settle around your waist.

He continued, "What could you possibly have to fear while with me? Are you afraid of someone?"

You shook your head, "no, well maybe, not yet I-" You took deep breaths, your chest felt like it was going to crack from the pressure.

"Not yet? What does that even mean?" Andrew furrowed his eyebrows and scrunched his nose, trying to make sense of it all.

"Andrew, do you know what day of the month it is?"

Andy groaned; his patience was begging to grow thin. "Y/N, I'm done playing this game with you. Are you trying to provoke me to extreme measures or something?"

"No! Just... answer the question. What day of the month is it?"

Andrew shrugged, "It's the first of the month. It's my mom's birthday. It's trash day. It's Monday. I don't fucking know what this has to do with our conversation, Y/N!?"

"No Andrew, just listen to me! Look, I usually get my period on the first of every month. But last month I didn't get my period."

"So?" Andrew looked at you with annoyance in his features.

"So.... I should have gotten my period last month, but I didn't. I'm not an irregular person and I've been here awhile so..."

Andrew's features stayed scrunched with confusion and annoyance as the words mulled over in his head.

Then it hit him.

Andrew fell back on his butt in shock, staring at you, your belly, and then back to you. The realization so big that his brain stopped the train to language station.

"You're pregnant?" He muttered.

You nodded, the tears that danced on your waterline finally falling. Your chest shook, and you gasped deep breaths, the pressure you had on your chest this morning, becoming ten-fold the weight as Andrew processed this information.

Your head hung low as the sobs shook your ribcage.

Without realizing it, Andrew got back up and sat beside you on the bed.

Wrapping his arms around your head and body, so that your body pushed against his chest.

A gigantic smile placed itself on his face, every bad thing that happened up until that point dispearred in a cloud. The only thing he could think about was the baby you were growing.

His baby.

Finally, Andrew let you go and grabbed your face, lifting it up so that he could place gentle kisses on your forehead. "My Y/N, thank you. This... fuck, I thought you were going to say something horrible, but this? Shit, this is the best news I could have ever heard, well maybe besides news of my sister's death or imprisonment but shit this is even better!"

His kisses became harder and more passionate. But he hadn't noticed the soul that had left your body. Instead, you looked at him terrified.

"But... Andrew, I'm not ready for this. I- I don't even think I'm old enough to be raising children, let alone birth one. This thing could rip me apart." Your breathing became quicker, the pressure on your chest becoming an unbearable pain.

You were so sure that Andrew would hate the idea of children, that he would have the initiative to take this thing out of you, but he was so happy, so much so he couldn't be bothered to notice your despair.

"Doesn't matter. You need to stop worrying about things that haven't even happened yet. You're pregnant, and that's all that matters. You're pregnant with my baby, and you will live through every moment." His smile never faltered as he leaned his head into the crook of your neck, humming a sweeter tune this time and rubbing your tummy.

"I'm not ready," you cried, shaking your head profusely.

Andrew looked up with a smile, trailing his forefinger down the bridge of your nose.

"Doesn't matter."

You held onto Andrew's hands as he leaned forward and embraced you. Sighing deeply into your chest.

"I love our little family. Don't you?"

Thank you for the ask!<3

#the coffin of andy and leyley #x reader #andrew graves #andy graves #y/n #andrew graves x reader #andy graves x reader #headcanons #tw pregnancy #tw yandere #yandere x reader #toxic relationship #not proofread #dark content

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earthtooz · 1 year

Note

rin kiss cam absolutely a masterpiece, i loveeee it so much <3 but i got an opposite idea. since you are very damn talented writing for sae, perhaps where you and sae had an argument which upset you so much, you have been ignoring him. then the following day, sae has a football match. after the match which of course they win, all the cams are on you and he said “please give me another chance to fix this, us” THEN THEN he held a massive bouquet of roses DJOWJDOSHDJSJDJ

for @limitlesshq - changed up the storyline a little, anon, sorry! your ask gave me inspiration for this, i'm sorry if you don't like the alterations, but i hope you enjoy nevertheless! this is VERY unedited.

sae, who has a sharp tongue and an even sharper attitude to match with that blunt personality of his. sae, whose words burn and singe your skin, leaving searing pain behind that you try not to show, especially when the venom drips onto your skin and brands you with shame, humiliation, and wrath. sae, who has never talked to you like he had in the argument you had two nights ago.

since then you hadn't talked to him, cringing at the thought of messaging him and reaching out. your friends tell you that you should try and mend whatever has happened, that knowing the two of you, sae's probably feeling the same and misses you too. your heart agrees but your conscious is still a little scarred, wincing when you recall the words that were thrown around.

sae had sent you a few posts here and there- like he sometimes does on instagram (they're hardly funny and you're still trying to find a way to tell him that), and you would only respond with a double click of the message instead of a proper response. other than that, he hadn't reached out in any other way.

the problem was that tonight you had a match to attend, with tickets that sae personally booked for you so it'd be a little harsh to not go.

just because you were still... upset at him doesn't mean that you didn't love him.

but did he want you there? what if he doesn't want to see you? what if he's still mad? that's probably why he hasn't made any attempts to try and talk it out and lord knows that you're still too busy fighting your own thoughts to make the first move.

pathetic really, it is, but when itoshi sae is your partner and the person who you have to apologise to... it's a little hard...

nevertheless, you go. your eyes lingered on the jersey he had given you, debating on whether or not you should wear it.

you decide against it, walking out of your apartment with a sinking feeling that it was a decision you'd regret. at least you still looked cute.

arriving at the stadium, you occupy your seat quite quickly especially since you were watching solo today. it's always daunting to be alone, especially in an environment like this, but you don't want any of your friends to witness how rocky you and sae are right now, so just purchasing this one ticket was a good idea.

even if that meant you had to cure your own boredom by scrolling on your phone whilst waiting for the match to start.

despite your indifferent front, your stomac was doing somersaults from where you jittered with anxiety. was showing up the right move? what if he didn't want you here?

then the stadium announcers begin talking, shushing everyone almost immediately as the teams are introduced. each running onto the grassy field when it's their turn, basking the roars and screams of the crowd that came to support them.

when real madrid comes out, your eye immediately lands on the figure of your boyfriend. although you can't see him all that clearly, it's not hard to identify him from his magenta hair and build; one that you see practically all the time (excluding the last three days).

he's scanning through the crowd, whipping his head around as if in search for someone, and when he finds the vip section for real madrid, his eyes land on you. you can't see him clearly, but there's a shift from his figure, his aura darkening as he slows his steps a little, falling behind from his team.

a fellow teammate has to push sae a little to snap him out of whatever funk he was in and a part of you twists uncomfortably at this weird behaviour of his.

all because he saw you. maybe it wasn't the right choice to come tonight. what if you impact his play?

the kickoff begins before you can think too much about it and the match officially starts, the players scrambling around the field.

90 minutes are over before you can count, the victory going to real madrid (to your relief because thank goodness you didn't affect their precious midfielder).

however, where you thought you would head home immediately after the match, it seems like sae has other plans as he runs towards the barriers separating the audience and the field, eyes locked on you the whole time. he beckons for you to come over and with a little hesitation, you do, weaving through exiting crowds in anticipation for what he'd need.

"congrats for the win," you say in greeting, plastering on a smile to give him the false perception that you were okay. he didn't need a victory to be soiled. that'd be a rough way to end such a pleasant event.

he doesn't meet your smile. instead, his eyes seem troubled, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he looks you up and down again and again, as if his eyes are deceiving him.

"you're not wearing my jersey," he says finally, looking back up at you with turmoil clear in his eyes.

"oh," you look down at your own outfit. "yeah. i decided not to."

"why?"

"well after our argument i didn't know where we stand," you confess shyly. he frowns further before stepping back.

then he takes off his jersey- the one he was wearing, and fiddles with it until it's facing a certain way. he had a long sleeve shirt on underneath but without the jersey, you can see that he's wearing the couples necklace you got for your anniversary.

he then threads the jersey on over you and despite being shocked at his abrupt actions, you comply nevertheless, weaving your arms through the holes.

sae hums in approval and you feel a little gross wearing his sweat-sopped shirt, but he looks content and happy. a stark contrast to the troubled expression he was wearing previously.

you open your arms for a hug. he accepts it, winding his arms around your torso as yours go around his neck. the athlete breathes you in, relishing in the feeling of being so close to you after so long.

"are we okay?" he asks, voice muffled as sae hugs you a little tighter.

"yeah," you respond. he takes his head out of your shoulder, indifferent eyes glossy. you think they're tears, but you're not going to give yourself such high credit.

"missed you. i hate it when you're mad at me."

you chuckle, pressing a kiss to his nose, causing him to scrunch his face at the sensation. "i wasn't mad, sae. i thought you would be."

"me? why?"

"i don't know. you're kind of scary, y'know. especially to those who have wronged you or you don't care about."

he softens before bringing his head to your shoulder again, finding solace in your touch. "but you're neither."

"noted," you laugh, running your hands through his hair. everything feels okay again.

you only find out after the match that sae was hoping you'd come all along and that he even brought gifts for you as a way of apologising after the match.

#sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #blue lock x reader #*ੈ✩‧₊˚ earf's ideas that i'll never write #for limitlesshq merry christmas #earf's sae rambles #earf's inbox hours ✌️

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berryblosom · 7 months

Text

AFTER A FIGHT ༊*·˚

Fights with Yuji are rare, almost non existent so it really took a toll on you when this fight came out of no where. You normally don't mind when yuji forgets something in fact you find it cute however his forgetfulness this time almost killed you. You made Yuji promise when you first started dating that he'd call or text if a mission he was on would drag on for a couple more days, you weren't a sorcerer so it wasn't like you could go and find him if something went wrong. Yuji broke his promise which resulted in a fight which then resulted in you sleeping in the guest bedroom.

You've stared at the ceiling for almost an hour now not being able to sleep without your human furnace. "Y/N?" The knock at the door and Yujis voice had you sitting up in the bed immediately.

"Come in." You cringed at how horse your voice sounds after crying for an hour. Yuji comes in hugging one of your many pillows, he makes his way straight to you and kneels on the side of the bed you were sitting on. He takes your hands into his rubbing them into his cheek "I'm sorry I yelled beautiful, I know you're just worried." His big eyes peer up at you and you notice his eyes are red and puffy. He'd been crying and it pained you to see him like this. "I'm sorry I yelled too." You pull him into the bed with you and he instantly wraps his arms around you. This felt right, having Yuji glued to your back and his face buried in the nape of your neck. "I promise to never make you cry again pretty girl, I love you" "i love you too Yuji."

Megumi didn't know what to do, he's been sitting outside the guest room for hours listening to your soft cries. You refuse to let him in and the more he thinks about your fight the more guilt he felt. He didn't mean to call you clingy, he's new to relationships and isn't used to receiving so much affection it overwhelmed him.

Your cries come to a stop and Megumi thought that maybe you'd finally come out. "Y/N can you come out please." He was met with silence. You know he didn't mean to say it but it still hurt because you love him so much. "Please I just wanna see if your okay." You give in and open the door. Megumi falls back landing at your feet, when he sees how red your eyes are he scrambles to get up and pull you into a hug which surprises you as he isn't one for initiating physical contact. "I didn't mean it, you know that right?" You slowly bring your arms up to hug him rubbing his back. "I know, I shouldn't have pushed you." He shakes his head and pulls you away to look at your face. "No it's my own problem I love when you're affectionate and I love you." You smile ruffling his hair as you walk back to your bed room together. "I love you too my grumpy Gumi."

You sigh as you think about the fight with Satoru. Your fights never lasted more than a minute, it was alway little things like him forgetting to put down the toilet seat or you watching a show without him but this time he went too far. You've explained to Satoru that the guy from your class is just a friend but that didn't stop Satoru from beating him up infront of everyone when he saw the guy hug you. "Princess, baby, love of my life please let me in. I miss you.” You wanted so badly to open the door for him and run into his arms but he had to know how bad what he did was. "No you need to learn your lesson." You lean against the door listening to his breathing from the other side. "I've learned my love please I miss your face." You roll you eyes at your overly dramatic boyfriend, it's only been ten minutes since you locked yourself in the guest bedroom. You decide he's been punished enough and open the door, he wastes no time in lifting you into his arms and burying his face into your chest. "Never lock me out again." He looks up at you with his annoyingly blue eyes "Depends on if you can behave." He nods his head frantically while carrying you back to bed "I can...you still love me right?" "Of course I do pretty boy"

Kento had expected to come home to all the light off and an empty bed. You're sleeping figure is what calms him down after a long day at work, just the feeing of your hands in his hair makes all the days worries fade away but after your fight over the phone today he didn't think that would happen. He's been working non stop for weeks and has missed several plans you've made to spend time with him, he realised just how much you've missed him when you called him during his break today crying. He takes of his coat, dropping all his stuff to find you in the guest bedroom.

He climbs into bed with you stirring you from your sleep. "Ken?" You turn to face him rubbing the sleep from your eyes "Im so sorry I made you cry darling." He strokes the side of your face feeling incredibly guilty when he sees your tear stained cheeks. "It's okay, I know how important your job is." Your hands runs through his hair which instantly makes him feel better.

"Nothing is as important to me as you are love." He nuzzles his face into yours and pulls you into a tight hug. "Will you come back to bed with me?" You nod and he picks you up "Let's go back"

#fanfics #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #yuji itadori #gojo satoru #nanami kento #megumi fushiguro #jjk x reader #<333 #love #light angst #couple #so cuttteeee #nanami x reader #gojo x reader #yuji x reader #megumi x reader #berrywrites₊ ⊹🌷

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matchaelette · 6 months

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when jungkook is leaving and none of you know what to do with yourselves

summary: idol!jk and oc!ash (her name is ash, cz I couldn't think of anything else & Y/N makes me physically cringe), established relationship, jungkook is leaving for military enlistment and they are just spending the last moments together, jimin cameo ;)

genre: fluff, bit angsty, idol au

warnings: again, jungkook going through the whole enlistment procedure, suggestive, oc cries a lott but hey, everyone of us is crying

words: 3.5k

note: it had to be done. I needed to write about this. I'm not functioning straight and I wrote this in a mood where I felt very drained and emotionless so it might show up in the writing....? also, this is concerning-ly unedited. anyways enjoy, feedback is always appreciated <3

you've lost count of how many times you've cried this whole month.

ever since you could walk, talk, and form conscious thoughts, you've noticed that every feeling you've had and tried to express comes out as tears. yes, you're angry, oh my god mom, I wanna shake your shoulders and tell you to believe your daughter for once and not somebody else, but you're silent and you're crying; you've been memorizing every single thing for this presentation and you swear by your future first newborn baby that every word is engraved in your brain, just say the words, people don't care what you fucking say you just need to say something, but you're silent, your legs are shaking on the stage and you think you're crying; you love him, you love this human being staring at you from between your legs with all the love in this whole fucking universe, kind and whole and happy and real, jeon jungkook, you love him so fucking say it, but all you can do is caress his face and let the silent tears cascade down yours.

yes, ever since the beginning of time, all your emotions and feelings have been coming out as tears.

sometimes you think that spending all your teen years bottling up everything because of a mean father and an angry mother messed you up for good. all your life you've hated yourself for crying so easily, especially when in front of other people, feeling so weak and broken all the time. but you didn't think much anymore, at least not as much as you used to overthink when you were younger, scared of fellow high-schoolers, scared of what people think about you. after you've met jungkook, your sweet jungkook, he has shown you that crying doesn't necessarily mean you're weak. maybe you were just sensitive and that was alright, because you've always cried when you felt too much, made you more of a genuine human than everyone else. his words, not yours.

but it did feel good to hear and you didn't know what you've done to deserve it.

you also remember that every time you've hated yourself for crying, you always found solace in the fact that maybe someday it would all run out and you'd be perpetually free from all of it, the childish thoughts of a child.

however, even though you laughed at those thoughts every time you remembered them, you were now convinced of how wrong you were to think that maybe the tears would run out someday if you cried too much. because you've been crying continuously this month, more than you've cried your entire life, and by god, not only have the tears not dried out but also, it just keeps coming more and more if possible.

you choke out once again as you bury your face in jungkook's shoulder, clutching the front of his shirt as he tightens his grip around your waist. he looks at you helplessly, not knowing what to do anymore, because no amount of words or actions could stop you from crying. he knows he has tried it all.

you force yourself to get a grip, rubbing your face on jungkook's already wet shirt to dry your wet cheeks, and look up at the blurry distance in front of you, resting your cheeks against the place you've been hiding. jungkook stands there, one arm wrapped around you and one arm around his mother, with a little smile that keeps blooming at the sight in front of him seeing his jimin hyung hug and bid goodbye to his family, despite all the heartbreak in the air.

he tightens his grip around you and leans down to kiss his mother's head, who is in a state identical to you but still more graceful and elegant than you could ever be. "it's gonna be okay, you two", he whispers, causing his mother to gently smile and take your hands as you let out yet another sniff at his words. as sad and worried as she was at her son's departure, she couldn't help but feel worried for you too, her motherly nature reaching out towards you in a way you never felt from your own mother.

"I will be okay", she smiles at you in a teasing manner, despite her glassy eyes, "but the question is, will your girlfriend be okay?"

"h-hey!", your voice shook as an unintentional smile replaced the frown, "stop teasing me, maa", you whine.

"I am not teasing you, dear. honestly, come live with me for a few days. come to busan. I'll take care of you"

"if you keep saying that, I'll really turn into a parasite and stay in your house forever, maa"

jungkook giggles at your conversation, happy that the most important two women in his life got along so well. and you did, ever since the day you've met his mother. she loved you as her own daughter, as did his father, and made you feel so loved and comfortable that even your antisocial ass loved to spend time with them, making you visit them frequently, with and without jungkook by your side.

jungkook's mother lets go of her son and glides into her husband's arm, who looks at jungkook with pride. after all who wouldn't be proud of this talented, lovely, hardworking boy? jungkook was your boyfriend, and your best friend before your relationship upgraded into something more, and a lot of words came to your mind when you thought of him. but the first word has to be proud. proud that he became the man he is now, proud of who he was and every single version of him, how humble and kind and caring he is, always making everyone around him feel loved and respected. proud of how your friendship managed to stay so strong after all this time, proud how he is trying his best to get through these 18 months without any toll in your relationship.

jungkook hasn't shed a single tear yet, holding you through nights when you decided to be a mood killer, couldn't help thinking that soon he wouldn't be able to hold you like this. you were so far rooted in the future of the enlistment process that you forgot to live the present. you were a mess, shaking and sobbing ever so often, frustrated at hybe, frustrated at the whole lot of bts for taking a decision like this, frustrated at the south korean government, frustrated at jungkook for not being frustrated at how hysterical you've been acting.

jungkook, instead, has been a constant pillar of support. he has been constantly kissing your tears away, pushing his fears away of how you guys might not last through this calamity, reassuring you more than him that it will be alright. and as much as you wish he would express his own feelings instead of tending yours, you were glad that the boy didn't cry because it was all that was holding you back from getting onto your knees and begging him not to go. you couldn't do that to him, couldn’t do that to his happiness because you knew he would've obliged to your wishes, somehow, and break his own heart. he would do anything for you. he has been continuously proving that, after all.

"how is ash holding up?", jimin asks jungkook as he takes a sip of his soju, not feeling drunk enough despite the few bottles of alcohol he has drank. the point of the night was to spend time with each other, jungkook, him, and taehyung, getting wasted and having fun like old days. namjoon was supposed to join them as well, but he was overseas on schedule. taehyung, on the other hand, was already passed out on the couch, but it might have to do less with his low alcohol tolerance and more with his tiredness after landing in seoul from france just a few hours ago, after quite a hectic fashion week. so, it was jimin and jungkook now, them and their alcoholic asses against the whole world. after all, no one could hold their liquor like them in the whole group.

"she is, well, I honestly don’t know", jungkook frowned, a drop of soju ran down his lips to his black sweatshirt but he didn’t seem to notice, "she is totally ignoring that I have to leave and acting completely normal."

"sounds like her. isn't running from her problems her best coping mechanism?". you were close with all the members in the group, and the rest of them considered you as their little sister as well (even though taehyung jokingly called you noona sometimes) but if there was one member who knew the best, it had to be park jimin. he was your best friend after jungkook and the time you spent together, whether be it gossiping or shopping, was always something both of you found therapeutic and cherished from the bottom of your hearts.

a silent pain erupts in jungkook's heart as he finally voices out the thought he has been continuously having for the last few days, "hyung, should I break up with her?"

"yah jeon jungkook", jimin smacks the back of the younger boy's head, looking at him with shock, "are you that drunk already?"

"I don’t-", jungkook chokes out the next few words incoherently, and jimin had to physically shift closer to the boy to make sense of his words, "I don’t know what to do. I-I don’t know how to live without her. I want her all to myself and I selfishly want to ask her to wait for me. but how can I do that when she could have a much better life without me?"

"jungkookie-"

"she could fall in love with someone better than me. fuck, saying it out loud infuriates me but I know that she could be happier, way happier than I can ever make her. you see what I am doing? I am leaving the girl I love to protect my career, to make sure nobody has anything else left to guilt trap us with. I am doing all of this for myself. how selfish does that make me?"

"you keep forgetting that you don't have a choice, jungkookie."

"then why does it all feel like my fault?"

"what are we going to do?"

the words escape your lips without meaning to. they hang like a whisper in the air as your bodies slowly recover from the high they have been through, limbs tangled and eyes closed, forehead resting against each other.

"are we gonna be alright?"

yes, jungkook wants to say, yes because if you decide to stay, I will make it all work, I will make it all okay, I promise. but how can I ask you to stay when it will only hurt you?

"do you want to… maybe… break up?", his vacant voice makes your eyes fly open in bewilderment, not being able to believe that he actually said the words that he said. all this time both of you have been ignoring the pink elephant in the room, only almost two months left before jungkook left for the military enlistment along with namjoon, jimin, and taehyung. you’ve been trying to enjoy what little time both of you had despite your busy schedules, especially jungkook, who has been working tirelessly to make his fans feel a little less lonely when he won't be present anymore. something to hold on to while I am gone, I hope you can stay within this magic shop we've build together, memories of me would console you like the gentlest breeze of a fall evening, I will yet again patch something I haven’t broken.

but one of you had to be strong enough to address it, this overwhelming dread and the constant need to be with each other, ignoring sleep and every other basic need because you knew your time was coming to an end. you needed to address it and needed to be assured that both of you can get through this, your love was way stronger than these 18 months.

but that's the first thing he wants to say?

the way he looks at you breaks your heart. he has a small smile on his face and you can tell that it is genuine, that he is taking one last moment to cherish all of you if you decided to say yes. but there is almost an unbearing sadness behind his eyes, pained and tortured, begging you to say no.

your voice is almost comical when you actually find it, "jeon jungkook, do you want me to fucking kill you?"

and his immediate reaction is almost laughable. you could see his shoulders drop with relief. he buries his face in your neck and drops all of his weight on top of you, holding you in a way that immediately blocks out all the bad things and forces you to focus on him and him only.

you laugh, "you're quite heavy, babyboy"

"deal with it", comes out his muffled reply, as he forces you down on the soft mattress with his bare body, almost an attempt to bury you, and you choke out yet another laugh at his antics, tightening your legs around his waist and running your hands through his fluffy hair. I refuse to believe that it will all be gone soon.

"you haven't said anything. anything at all", he says quietly.

its sad that you know what he is talking about.

"I didn’t know what to say", you reply softly, careful that your voice doesn't shake. he doesn't need to see how you break every time you remember that he is going to leave, which you've been remembering an awful lot these days. no, you need to be strong, for him and for you. after all, you have already survived months away from each other, during tours and comebacks, thanks to both of your careers.

"we have survived before. it's not something new for us. we can do it again", you whisper against his jaw, gulping down the tears threatening to break free. only this time, it's 18 fucking months, and the unspoken words hang into the air.

"you didn't even shed a single tear", jungkook lifts his face and looks at you accusingly, knowing very well that you're a crybaby, "it keeps feeling like you don’t care."

your eyes widen at his words and it feels like a punch to your gut but you can’t say you're surprised. you have been acting indifferent to put up a strong front, and now that you look back, you may have overdone it from time to time. you were never a good actor.

you never understood why it always felt like this, every time you hide your problems from someone to not bother them, and always feel like a shipwreck when they actually fail to notice.

"jungkook, love", you trace his cheeks with your fingertips, his cute chubby cheeks, his lips, moving to his eyelids the moment he closes his eyes under your touch. you drag your fingertips through his scalp, waterfalls of his hair cascading down when you reach his nape, softly pulling his face closer to kiss the tip of his nose. jungkook, my love, how do I tell you that you mean the world to me and that I am not worried that our relationship isn't as strong enough to fight the course of time but I am sad and I am selfish and I don't know how to survive without feeling your presence for even a single day? how do I tell you that you never have to worry about me leaving but worry about me staying forever and suffocating you? I love you and I don't know what to do with myself, I love you and I don't know who I am without that love. what can I say to make it all better?

"babe, are you crying?"

no, you're not crying. you're sobbing.

"wait wait, I didn't actually ask you to cry—", you can see the panic in his eyes as he pulls both of your bodies up into a sitting position just using one of his hands while the other wipes your cheek off, you on his lap, your thighs straddling his waist, bare torsos flushed against each other. you feel him pulling you into a hug as if your bodies could get any closer than they already are. but instead of being comforted, you sob even louder.

"ash, sweetheart, please don't cry", jungkook wanted to punch himself, regretting the words he spoke earlier. what the hell was he thinking, saying that you didn't cry? he wanted to go back and kick his own ass at the stupidity. why the hell would he want you to cry of all things?

you on the other hand could do nothing except bury your face in your boyfriend's neck, and feel the entirety of him, his body, his scent, his hold on you, his voice so clear in your head, nothing but him until the time runs out. you have been so strong till now, haven't you?

"but you're leaving", he could see now, how much of an idiot he had been thinking that you didn’t care enough just because all you were doing was trying to be tough and get through without this exact moment happening. he could hear the desperation in your choked sobs, he could feel the sadness at his own dam threatening to break. he almost felt angry that after all this time, he was still stupid enough to not see through you.

"and I will be back sweetheart, you know I will be. and then there would be nothing standing between us anymore. nothing. for the rest of our lives", he promises as he lifts your tear-soaked face to look at his own. he looked pained, trying his best to be strong when you were falling apart right in his arms, but you could still see the hope behind his eyes because his promise was real and you knew it.

but once the waterworks begin, it just cannot stop.

there is nothing left to say now. it is time, you realize. the chilly breeze washes over you, and you realize that nothing can make you feel as cold as you will when jungkook gets in that car with jimin. your eyes find each other, mouths desperately looking for words to say, promises, comfort, but what can you say that hasn't already been said?

"I love you", you whisper.

"stay out of trouble, okay?", jungkook kisses your forehead and even with the unstoppable tears leaking out from your eyes, you can't help but shoot him a mischievous glance. you, the god of getting into trouble, staying out of trouble?

jungkook sighs, knowing you a bit too well. after spending years together, he knew well enough that you could never be forced to do something you didn't want to do. you were like a storm, passing through in a way that was your own, wrecking everything in the process. while he loved your bravery and carefree nature, he realized it comes with its consequences. for him, it was constantly worrying about you and never wrongfully so. so, he returns to his last resort to make sure that you will be okay, "do it for me."

"okay that is pure emotional blackma—"

you cannot finish your words because his lips are on yours in a second, abruptly plunging you down a rabbit hole because, god, after all this time you're still not used to it. he smells like fresh laundry and mint, moving carefully because he isn't sure that you will allow him to kiss you like this in front of half the people from his company, his parents, and god knows who else is in the base. but who are you push him away?

you drop all courtesy and kiss him back in a manner that is sure yet gentle, tongue brushing softly against his lips. jungkook obliges and parts his lips, breathe mingling and tongue dancing in harmony as you kiss him with all your might, letting all of him overwhelm all of you one last time.

you let go of each other, breathless yet eyes glued. you trace his face, from his eyes to his cheeks and nose, his shaved head, still as soft as silk under your touch. he kisses your fingers when they reach his lips, smiling gently to remind you that yes, he will be gone, and that will hurt as hell but then again, he will be back.

"go, jimin's waiting", you force out a smile, "and please, for the love of god, choose something normal to do, something that doesn't involve jumping out of an aircraft or—"

"I love you."

".....I know."

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts army #bts jungkook #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook fanfiction #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan boys #bangtan #park jimin

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aestrayla · 1 year

Text

driving you crazy ft. mammon

summary: you make a bet with a certain white-haired demon to see who can last the longest without touching the other. let's see how long you can last. ft. mammon x f!reader

cw: 18+ SMUT and sexual themes. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT interact.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: this was my first time writing smut LOL. i had to stop myself from cringing while writing this but my fingers just kept typing away.. anyways enjoy!

You had made a bet with Mammon to see who could last the longest without any physical touch, and of course, he agreed to it. Making bets was his playing field after all and after mentioning the little reward you'd offer if he won... he was not going to lose. This was mere child's play for him.

Now of course you had to play dirty to win. The odds that he would win were more or less in his favour. Here and there you would try and tease him, wearing short little skirts and staring at him with your pretty eyes. He knew when you made that stupid little sultry look with your eyes it could struck any guy dumb. He knew this, because he experienced it firsthand and still remembers the day you laughed at him after leaving him dumbfound.

Your teasing was extremely fun on his part though. Mammon could honestly fuck you whenever he pleased but being able to watch you play this silly little game and planning your next "big move" was far too entertaining for him. It was like watching a child learn to walk, seeing how pouty you'd get after the game dragged from hours into days.

The lack of physical touch was burning your insides. How was he able to handle this so well? It was surprising how good his restraint was when he, at the same time, has terrible impulses of blowing thousands of grimm within seconds.

As the days dragged on, it got quite obvious to the others that you two were up to something ridiculous once again and Lucifer was starting to get quite fed up of the back and forth teasing you two would do. "Guys just- get a room... Please," he would say.

You were both shooed away by everyone, making it into Mammon's room. "Can't you just let me win already?" you pleaded, as you plopped onto his bed, lying onto your stomach. Mammon watched as his gaze followed your figure, until he couldn't take his eyes off of something.

As you landed on the bed, your night gown slightly lifted at your waist, revealing a pretty lingerie set you had on underneath. Thoughts were swirling around his head. He had only seen you in lingerie once, on his birthday. This was no special occasion but you definitely had his heart racing and his mind pacing.

"Did you hear me?"

"I-I... U-um... Yeah I uh..." he stuttered. You got off of your stomach to rest your back on the headboard. He clears his throat. "Let ya win?" He makes his way to the edge of the bed and takes a seat. "I didn't play this lil' game of yours just to let ya win, princess."

To be honest you were needy, really needy at this point. You've been craving him the entire week but you just had to play it cool and you were starting to get really frustrated. You pouted at his words.

"Hm? What's that look on ya face?" he questioned.

Although you were desperate, you still didn't want to lose to the likes of him. Your brows furrowed as you pleaded him with your eyes, your glossy lips pouting.

"Ah, now ya makin' me feel bad! How could I say no to your pretty little face?" He leaned back into the bed, his arms holding him up. "Well, if ya want me so bad, then go ahead princess. I'm all yours."

He had the stupidest smile plastered to his face. You frowned. It was obvious he wasn't gonna let you win. When he wanted something, he got it- no matter the cost.

"Just admit ya lost and I'll give ya whatcha want."

Easier said than done. You were a petty little brat but you were craving him so bad, you needed him right now and all this chatter was getting you all hot and bothered. "Mammon..." you whined, "Please..."

He sighed. "A bets a bet. If I'm not gonna lose, and you're not gonna lose... then I guess we're waitin' another week," he shrugged as he got up from the bed. You tugged at his shirt before he could fully stand. "Hm?" He paused as he turned to face you. As you stared down in defeat, you could feel him staring back at you with the biggest smirk. "Is this your way of sayin' ya lost to me?"

"W-whatever... just- just tell me what you want," you mutter.

The reward you offered for winning, was that the winner could do whatever they wanted with the loser, pretty simple.

"Get ridda the dress, I wanna see how pretty ya dressed for me."

He takes your place, resting his back against the headboard while you remove the silk gown. He admires you for a moment, the intricate lace hugging the curves and folds of your body beautifully. He's always amazed at how he managed to score you. Of all demons, you chose him and he could never be happier.

He motioned for you to sit on his lap and you do so. Settled over him, you can feel a hard bulge beneath you. You look up at him and meet with his deep blue eyes. "Well, whaddya waitin' for, princess? Ride me." You both frantically toss your under garments away into oblivion.

Once again, you're settled above him. You gulp as you stare down at his growing member, already flowing with pre-cum. You use your hand to guide him to your entrance while your other hand rests on his chest for support. He never fails to surprise you with his size and there was no way you could ever get used to it.

You slowly lower yourself down, feeling your walls stretch around him. You groaned. You weren't even halfway down and you were already having difficulty taking him in. He watched you carefully as you attempted to lower yourself, his dick twitching from the lack of friction. "Fuck, y/n... ya actin' like ya ain't take my dick before," he grumbles.

"I'm sorry you're just... so damn big..." you muttered. He brought his hands to your hips to help guide you down and once you made it all the way down you took a moment to adjust. You slowly started to raise your hips to bounce on him, pressing your hands against his bare chest to hold yourself up. He watched as you rode him, scrunched brows, half-lidded eyes, mouth agape. You were so damn pretty.

You started to pick up the pace, earning a few groans and grunts from him. His hands found their way to your hips, slamming you down while he bucked his hips up into you. Your gasps and moans were music to his ears. "Mammon... Mammon I..." You were starting to come undone and felt a tightening knot in your stomach. You were going to reach your high soon. "Fuck... fuck y/n..." he groaned, "You're so... you're so damn slow!"

You sharply gasped when he grabbed you by your wrists and threw you onto your back. He was now hovering over you. The look he had in his eyes looked as if he was going to devour you, whole. He started to slam his hips into you mercilessly as if some kind of monster had taken control. Your moans grew louder and much more whiney as he rammed into you, over and over again.

"Do ya know how fuckin' crazy ya drove me this entire week?" he breathed. You could feel him smile beside your ear. "I woulda fucked the shit outta ya first day if I didn't hafta put up with ya lil' game."

The only response that left your mouth were your stupid little whimpers and moans of his name.

"You're gonna make up for all the time ya wasted." His pace only got faster, his tip hitting that same sensitive spot again and again. You wanted to tug and pull at his soft white hair, but your wrists were in restraint by his large hands. "Mammon... I can't..." you whimpered.

"Can't what?" he smirked.

"I... I can't take it... ‘s too much..." Your words only made him go faster and it was pulling your insides into knots and twists. "Well I'm sorry princess, but the winner gets to do whatever to the loser, right?" he grinned.

He was abnormally faster than usual today, but it was because of how much he was dying to fuck you. Just because he could restrain himself, did not mean that he didn't wanna fuck you dumb. If anything, the game made him even more hungry for you.

Your fucked-out face had him smiling stupidly as he rammed into you. "Mammon I'm... I'm gonna..." you mumbled.

"Hm? Whaddya gonna do?"

"I'm gonna cum!" you whined.

"Already? But we've only just started princess," he teased, as he placed a sloppy kiss onto your lips. You were seriously about to finish, especially at the pace he was going at.

"Please... let me cum. I can't take it anymore!" you begged.

You looked so good right now. Brows furrowed while your eyes were rolled back, tongue slightly out. "Fuck you're so pretty... do ya hafta finish right now?" he groaned.

You were a moaning mess and it was a struggle to even speak right now. He removed his hands from your wrists and found purchase of your hips. His thrusts were starting to get sloppy and he was also close to finishing.

"Fine," he huffed, "You can cum."

As if on command, you came undone almost instantly while grabbing ahold of his soft hair. The tightening of your walls around him pushed him over the edge and he released into you. "Fuck..." he groaned as he filled up your insides with his hot seed. He continued to thrust into you, not allowing a drop to be wasted.

He started to slow down his pace, and he finally pulled out of you. You smiled as he looked down at you, you were completely worn out. He leaned down to place a soft, but sweet kiss to your lips.

"You happy now baby?" you asked, while wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Mhm, really happy," he smiled.

You lean in for a second kiss and as he pulls away, you notice his smile turn into a devilish smirk. You frown, confused at what his face is for.

"Mkay now turn around, we goin' for round two baby!"

#mammon x reader #mammon x mc #mammon smut #mammon x you #the great mammon #obey me #obey me mammon #mammon obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #obey me imagines #obey me smut #obey me fanfic #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me x you #went too crazy on the tags LOL

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roosterforme · 1 year

Text

The Younger Kind Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley goes on another unremarkable date before heading home early. You stay and have a drink with him while you fix up his dating profile. Maybe now he will find some more compatible matches.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (eventually 18+)

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley started his Friday morning the same way he always did; by running around the house in a complete disarray.

"Noah, eat your waffles. We're going to be late," he said, his flight suit hanging halfway off his torso.

"I want cereal," he whined, and Bradley ran his hands over his face and sighed. Then he got a bowl of cereal ready and finished eating the waffles himself.

After burning his tongue on coffee that was way too hot and eating a handful of sour blueberries, Bradley was hauling Noah out to the Bronco and buckling him in.

"Is my babysitter coming again?" Noah asked on the way to daycare. He had been asking Bradley that all week.

"You had a lot of fun with her?" he asked as he pulled into the parking lot. "You liked her?"

"Yeah. Bring her back."

Bradley smiled and then he cringed. He liked you, too. And he'd made a complete ass of himself, flirting with you like you and he were the same age. You'd been sweet about it though. He wouldn't do it again.

"She's going to come over again tonight," Bradley told his son as they walked into the daycare. "You can play with her all you want."

At least Noah looked happy about it. Bradley had mixed feelings about the way he would be spending his evening. He was going out with a woman from the app, his first foray into online dating. Her photos looked nice, and she was a thirty-four year old publicist. He had no idea what he was going to talk to her about, but he was meeting her at a sleek martini bar at her suggestion. He didn't even like martinis.

"Bye, bub," Bradley said, kissing Noah and dashing back out to make it to base on time.

And of course he was already starving again. He kept meaning to leave some snacks in the car since he was always running all over town. The first person he saw as his stomach growled was Nat.

"Did you not eat breakfast?" she asked as they walked across the tarmac.

"I don't have any food at my house, and I don't have time to go grocery shopping," he growled, grabbing a smashed granola bar out of his helmet bag. "And I can't go tonight, because I have a date from that fucking app you put on my phone!"

Bradley was absolutely not in the mood to go on this date. However, Nat looked delighted.

"That's great!"

"Is it? Is it really? Because I'm meeting her at a fancy martini bar. I don't like martinis, and I don't like getting dressed up."

Nat rolled her eyes. "It's your first date using the app. It'll be fine."

Bradley headed straight for his F/A-18 and started to climb into the cockpit. He had the fleeting thought that he would rather be at home all evening, coloring and eating those peanut butter covered carrot sticks with you and Noah.

-----------------------

You woke up late on Greyson's couch with a stiff neck and a growling stomach. As you walked into the kitchen to get a drink of water before leaving for your first class, you found Greyson, hungover and eating Cheetos.

"Hey," he groaned, holding his head. "You coming back over tonight."

"No," you told him, reaching for a glass. "I'm babysitting later."

He pouted in a way that you used to think was adorable when you and he were in a relationship. "But we didn't even get to mess around last night," he whispered, wrapping his arms around you.

You managed to slip out of his grip before he got Cheeto gunk all over you. "Don't ask me to come over anymore if you're just planning on playing video games."

He just looked at you like you had two heads. "Isn't our arrangement to have fun together? You could have played too."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. "I'll text you when I'm free, Greyson. Maybe we can hang out then."

You ducked into his bathroom to get changed and get ready to go, and you just knew stopping for coffee wasn't going to be an option. You would have to hope like hell that you'd have time to get coffee and something to eat when you left campus and headed to Bradley's house later.

You already really liked it there. None of his mugs matched. The area rug in the living room had a snag in it. Noah had colored on the wall in the hallway. It was cozy, cluttered and lived in. And you liked the way Bradley and Noah filled the space.

"Stop thinking about him," you mumbled as you drove yourself to class.

Your day went by in a blur. You'd managed to get a snack and some coffee around lunchtime, but your last lecture ran late. You had the choice to stop for food or get yourself cleaned up a bit before heading to Bradley's house.

"Stop thinking about him!" you mumbled again as you stopped in a bathroom to fix your lipgloss and your hair. Surprisingly, you didn't actually look too bad for having slept on a couch. And now you could just make yourself some coffee in Bradley's kitchen using one of his silly mugs.

-----------------------

Bradley ran through the locker room like it was a race.

"What's your problem, Rooster?" Hangman asked him, looking like he had whiplash as Bradley dashed past.

"I've got more than one, I can assure you," Bradley grumbled, pulling on clean underwear, gym shorts and a tank. "I need to stop for groceries and get Noah and be home by 6. See you on Monday."

He only had time to stop at the store he didn't like, but it was on his way to get Noah. He grabbed some fruit, macaroni and cheese, a few frozen meals, pasta sauce, and French vanilla coffee creamer. Then he picked up Noah, out of breath by the time he was buckling him into his carseat.

"Can we see the babysitter now?" Noah asked with a smile.

Bradley kissed his forehead. "Yeah, bub. We can go see her now." Bradley was almost as excited about the idea as Noah was.

Your car was already there when he pulled into his driveway at 6:15. Shit, he had told you he would have dinner ready for you. Fuck, he was supposed to meet his date in less than an hour.

"Let's go inside," Bradley said, scooping Noah up with one arm and carrying the groceries and his flight suit in the other. You must have let yourself in, because the door was unlocked. "It's just us," he called out, and you poked your head out of the kitchen. Bradley was already grinning as you smiled at both of them and came to get Noah from him.

"Hey, Noah. Ready to color again?" you asked, taking the child in your arms. Bradley's heart skipped around awkwardly as you smiled at him over your shoulder on your way back to the kitchen. That lipgloss was like a beacon, and he followed right behind you.

"I started making dinner," you told him. "I hope you don't mind."

Mind? Bradley couldn't think of anything better than you, coloring with Noah and making dinner.

"I'm sorry. I was supposed to have done that."

You just shrugged and set Noah down on one of the kitchen chairs. There was an assortment of coloring and craft supplies in front of him, and he got right to work.

"I figured you two got held up. I'm just making spaghetti, nothing crazy." Bradley watched you stir the noodles. Usually when he did that, they ended up in a gigantic clump.

"Well, thanks. I did get some pasta sauce. And I think there are some meatballs in the freezer. Oh, and this is for you."

He watched you turn to face him, and your eyes lit up when he handed you the coffee creamer. It was as if he'd just handed you a bouquet of flowers or twenty bucks.

"Thank you," you sighed softly. "I didn't get enough coffee today."

Bradley turned on the coffee maker for you. "That's pretty much the only thing I always have here. Drink as much as you want, please." He ran his hand through his messy hair. "I could use some too, I think."

"What time is your date?" you asked, turning toward Noah and finding him coloring the page with the hippos on it.

Bradley's eyes went wide. "I have to be there in thirty minutes," he said, grimacing as you strained the pasta.

You laughed. "Guys have it so easy. You can throw on some jeans and a nice shirt. Run your fingers through your hair, and bam, you're ready to go out."

He watched you work from behind, taking in your jean shorts and tee shirt. He should really be getting ready to go, but he didn't want to move away from you. "Nah, women have it easier."

You looked up at him over your shoulder again, something that already made Bradley smile.

"Now this reasoning, I've just got to hear," you said, raising one eyebrow.

"Guys don't need a lot to work with. Makeup and all that stuff? Don't need it. Is it nice sometimes? Sure, I guess. But just hanging out at home, eating popcorn in my pajamas with the right girl sounds pretty good right now."

"Yeah," you agreed, scooping spaghetti into three bowls. "It does. Maybe that's what Noah and I will do later."

And now Bradley was jealous of his three year old child.

-----------------------

You watched Bradley inhale a bowl of plain spaghetti in his fitted jeans and blue dress shirt. He looked like any woman's dream date, and you were sure he would end up scoring a second date if he wanted one.

"Bye, bub. Be good," he said, kissing Noah on his forehead. And when he took a step closer to you, a brief flash of him kissing you on your forehead crossed your mind. You bit your lip to keep from gasping, and his eyes tracked the motion.

When Bradley's lips parted before he swallowed hard, you had to reach behind you for the edge of the counter.

"I'll have my phone on. Not sure how long I'll be out. Should be home by ten?"

"Sounds good," you told him in a soft breathy voice. "No rush."

As he was turning to leave he reminded you, "Seriously, you're welcome to eat or drink anything you find."

You just nodded as he strolled through the living room and left to go make some other woman feel like she just won the lottery.

"Hey Noah, wanna sing some songs while I do some meal prepping for you guys?" you asked.

He was now sitting in the middle of the floor with his blocks out. "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star!"

"Good choice." You sang song after song, occasionally stopping to help him with his building projects. You sipped your coffee out of a mug that said My best friend went to Glacier Bay and only bought me this stupid mug while you portioned out spaghetti and meatballs. At least this way Noah and Bradley would have something to get them through the weekend.

You found some frozen chicken, and next time you could make them some fajitas or something with it. But this was the saddest kitchen you had ever seen. Well maybe besides Greyson's.

And that was the first time you had thought about him all day. You hadn't stopped thinking about Bradley and Noah.

"Another song!" Noah exclaimed, and you started Old MacDonald for him. You put the containers of spaghetti into the refrigerator and sat on the floor with your mug of coffee. After building a few towers, you got Noah to agree to make some construction paper crafts.

"Can you make me a dog?" he asked, and you made him a sad looking red dog. That was followed by a weird looking yellow cat and a blue moose.

"Let's make you a crown so you can be Prince Noah," you said, pushing his dark hair back from his forehead. He looked a lot like Bradley. He was so cute, you wondered what his mom looked like. You wondered what happened to her. She didn't seem to be involved at all, and Bradley never talked about her.

"And you can be a Princess!" he shouted.

"Sure," you said with a laugh. And half an hour later, there was a mess of construction paper all over the floor and a giggling child in your arms.

"We can watch one short cartoon, and then it's your bedtime," you told him. He already looked sleepy, and he couldn't stop yawning. He sat next to you on the couch with his yellow crown crooked on his head. Your own purple crown was a little crooked too, but you didn't want to take it off yet.

You didn't want to bother Bradley on his date, but you snapped a quick photo of Noah in his crown and texted it to him. You got an immediate text back.

Bradley Bradshaw: He looks cute. Where's your crown?

You pressed your lips together. Should you send him a selfie while he was on a date? Before you could change your mind, you took one and checked it before sending it to him as well.

Bradley Bradshaw: A crown fit for a princess.

You led Noah into the bathroom to get ready for bed with a gigantic smile on your face. You helped him brush his teeth and get changed into pajamas. You read him three books and got him a sip of water, but you were still smiling.

"Let's leave your crown on your dresser," you told Noah, gently taking it off his head as he sank back onto his pillow. "Good night," you whispered, but he was already falling asleep.

You felt soft and warm inside as you cleaned up the mess on the kitchen floor. You emptied the dishwasher and cleaned the counters. You picked up the toys on the living room floor. When you opened up a bag of Skittles and just started to settle in with a textbook, you got another message.

Bradley Bradshaw: I'll be home soon. Didn't want to scare you again.

It wasn't even 9 o'clock yet! Why was he already coming home? You weren't going to complain. The idea of him kissing his date goodnight or bringing her back here left a weird taste in your mouth. You popped a few Skittles to try to make it go away.

A couple minutes later, when the front door opened, you nearly choked on your candy. God, he was so hot. He was carrying a six-pack of beer and a bottle of wine, and you couldn't help but wish he'd invite you to hang out longer.

"You're home so early," you said from your spot on the couch, and his eyes met yours immediately. "Was your date awful? Or did she take one look at you and bail?" you asked, barely able to contain your laughter as you adjusted your paper crown.

His lips parted as he huffed out a laugh. Then he glared at you as he headed your way. "Okay, Princess. First of all, yes, she was awful."

You were about to ask what happened, but he continued on.

"And second, no woman has ever taken a look at me and decided not to come back for a second one." He was staring down at you on the couch, and now you couldn't remember what you were going to say.

You pressed your lips together as heat flared through your body. "You know, I believe that," you said softly, making him chuckle. "What was wrong with her?"

He just shook his head and heaved a sigh. "Doesn't like kids."

You scoffed. "Well she'd like Noah if she gave him a chance. He's an angel."

Bradley smiled down at you before taking a seat on the couch so that his thigh was rubbing yours.

"Was he good tonight? No tears at bedtime?"

"Mmm, he was perfect," you managed to say as his body heat radiated through his pant leg.

"That's good. Hey, I need a drink. Do you want something?" he asked, holding up the wine and the beer. "I wasn't sure what you liked, but I sure as hell wasn't about to drink a thirty dollar martini."

He had thought about you when his date ended. He had thought about coming back here and having a drink with you. He had thought about what you might like. You needed to catch your breath. "Sure. I'll go grab some glasses." When you started to move, Bradley pressed the wine bottle against your leg.

"No, I'll go. You stay here."

You watched him walk away, and then you buried your face in your hands. You'd never make it out of here with your dignity intact if he kept being so sweet.

"You cleaned the kitchen," he called from the next room. He returned with two mismatched glasses and a corkscrew. "You didn't have to do that."

"I made you some meals, too. Your refrigerator reminds me of my ex-boyfriend's fraternity house," you said, pretending to shudder as he looked at you.

"Ex-boyfriend, huh? Is there a current one?"

You were going to melt. You were going to slide onto the floor and pass out. "No." You were surprised your voice came out as steady as it did. He looked pleased. He was smiling as he sat down next to you again.

"That's good. Wouldn't want to keep you here in the evenings and make him miss you. Wine or beer?"

It took you a second to realize he was asking you a question. "Um, wine." Your mouth felt dry as you watched him open the bottle and pour some for you. "So did you just ditch your date and stop at the liquor store?"

Bradley snorted as he poured himself some wine as well. "Pretty much. I should have known it would be bad from the get go, you know?" he asked, setting the bottle down and clinking his glass to yours. "She likes the opera and martini bars, and I... don't. Not that I can't hang, but I would just rather-"

"Eat popcorn on your couch in your pajamas. Yeah, I know," you said with a smirk. He just looked at you again like he couldn't quite make sense of you. "So where did you meet her anyway?" You picked up your bag of Skittles and ate a few before handing them to him.

"On an app," he said before he dumped a few directly into his mouth.

"You're on a dating app?" You were surprised.

"Yep. My friend hijacked my phone and downloaded it. I don't even know what all she put in my profile."

"Gimme your phone," you said, holding out your hand. "I want to see it."

He just entered his passcode and groaned. "Fine, but I get to finish the Skittles." He handed over his phone and then dumped all of the remaining candy into his mouth. You watched him chew for a moment before you looked down at his phone.

"Holy shit," you whispered.

"What's wrong?" he asked, leaning a little closer to you.

"Nothing, it's just your photo."

"Is it bad? Nat said all my photos were terrible."

You laughed right at him. "No. It's very good."

----------------------

Bradley was not going to be able to keep his cool for much longer. He just sipped his wine, wishing there was more candy for him to stuff into his mouth.

"It's good?" he asked you as you scrolled through his profile.

"Oh yeah. Both of them are. But you need more photos than just the two. Wait, golden retriever energy?" You burst out laughing and let your eyes wander all over his face. "Yeah, I can see that."

"I still don't understand what that means," he grumbled, leaning closer again as you opened the tab for his matches.

"You have almost three hundred women trying to chat you up!"

He just scratched his mustache. "I do? Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Look," you said, holding the phone up. "That's insane. Didn't you set any filters?"

"Huh?"

"Filters," you mumbled. "There's gotta be... oh, here we go. You need filters. Otherwise you look desperate. Or like you just want to hook up." You met his eyes, seemingly searching for an answer.

"I'm not desperate. And I don't want to just hookup," he promised, leaning back against the couch and watching you work.

You leaned back too, nearly resting your face against his shoulder. He wished he could just match with you on the app and call it a day.

"Okay, what's the age range you're into?" you asked softly, your purple crown sliding down a little bit on your forehead as you juggled his phone and your glass of wine.

"Um, I guess my age?"

You rolled your eyes at him. "You're only interested in women who are specifically thirty-six years old?"

"Well, no. I guess broader than that," he replied. He was about to say twenty-five to forty, but he changed his mind at the last second. "How about twenty-four to forty?"

You looked at him and smiled. "Okay," you murmured, typing something into the app. "Now there's a little checklist where you can make different selections. Would you date someone with kids?"

"Yes."

"How about a smoker?"

"No."

"What about...."

Bradley listened to you ask him each question, and he answered all of them for you. But he couldn't stop looking at you, curling up closer and closer to him. Your face was so cute and animated. Your eyes were so expressive.

"And now," you said, grinning at him. "It's time for some more pictures. You don't have any other photos saved to your phone?"

"You can look. But it's all just pictures of Noah," he said, realizing too late that when you opened his photo gallery, his most recent one was the selfie you sent him.

"Oh," you whispered, grinning down at his phone before pressing your lips together. Bradley was too embarrassed to say anything, so he just let you swipe through his photos. "Mostly Noah," you said softly, still smiling at all of them. "Looks like I'll just have to take some."

You held up his phone and took a picture of him before he could stop you. "Oh, please don't post that," he told you, reaching for his phone, but you held it up over your head in an effort to keep it away from him.

"What? You looked okay," you said, glancing up at the screen. "It needs a little something extra though." Carefully, you removed your paper crown and set it on his head, your fingers brushing through his hair. They were gone in an instant, but now he was craving your touch. It was insane how close you were to him. You shouldn't be this close.

"How's it look?" he whispered.

"So cute," you said with a laugh, and he let you snap a photo. "We could post this one and say A Prince looking for his Princess."

"Absolutely not."

"Come on! I'm sure anyone would jump at the chance for a second or third date with that!"

Your whole face was lit up when you talked, and Bradley just wanted to play along. "Nope," he said. "It's your crown anyway. Maybe I'll just stick with calling you Princess." He gently set it on your head again, letting his fingers graze your hair.

You sucked in a deep breath. "Only for you and Noah. He did tell me I was a pretty Princess earlier."

Bradley wanted to kiss you. He really thought you would let him if he tried it. He let his knuckles brush against your cheek before he pulled his hand away, causing your eyes to flutter closed while your lips parted.

"Looks better on you anyway," he whispered, memorizing the way your eyelashes brushed your cheek where his hand had just been.

Why couldn't he feel even a fraction of this attraction to either of the women he'd gone on a proper date with? Women who were his age. What was he even thinking here?

It was as if you could read his mind when you opened your eyes. "Well, if you'd just sit nicely for me, I could take an additional photo for the app. That plus the filters should have you matching with people who you're more compatible with."

Bradley swallowed hard. "Fine," he agreed, and you were smiling so much, he couldn't help smiling too. When you showed him the photo, he had to agree that he looked pretty good, and then you were adding it to his profile.

"There," you said, finally handing back his phone as you stood and stretched in front of him. Your arms were high over your head, and your back was arched like some sort of depraved ballerina from his fantasies. Jesus, he knew he could get hard for you instantly, and that thought terrified him.

"Thanks," he mumbled, his voice so deep and raspy.

"Now, instead of a million pointless messages and matches, hopefully you'll have a handful of good ones."

Your words made sense, and he mulled over them as you gathered up your things and headed to the front door.

"You'll text me when you want me again?" you asked softly, and Bradley nearly moaned.

"I will," he agreed, closing and locking the door behind you with a soft groan.

-----------------------

Good job, Princess. You just made him more likely to find a match online. Enjoy your babysitter fic @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 4

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #rooster bradshaw x female reader

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usedtobecooler · 2 years

Note

If you’re looking for ideas: Riding Virgin Eddie’s face.

what the fuck i'm losing my absolute shit over this.

part one // part two // part three // part four

Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), oral f receiving, handjobs, corruption kink, dirty talking, lil bit of angst and confusion, lots of words of praise (being called pretty, handsome), dumbification (reader thinks eddie is a bit of an idiot).

Word Count | 3k

A/N | at this point i think i need some fucking help because what the hell am i actually playing at doing this again when i literally just posted the last part yesterday. anyway, i need to take a cold shower after this.

Things are a bit awkward for a while after your previous encounter with Eddie, which saddens you. He was acting more awkward than usual, he tensed up whenever you'd brush by him and things in general just weren't quite how they used to be. There was a shift in energy and you'd come to the conclusion that you'd scared him off.

He didn't even catch a ride home with you anymore, his van finally getting fixed just as Winter crept in, which meant you didn't get to corner him anywhere to press him on it.

Maybe Eddie just isn't interested in me, maybe he's gone out and found another girl instead (which is fine, you definitely wouldn't ponder on it too long and you definitely didn't feel a pang of hurt in your chest at the thought), maybe it had awakened something in him and he decided he wasn't interested in sex at all.

Either way, you were giving him his space and waiting for him to come to you when he was ready. Because, irregardless of how you felt about him and how you ached to have his fingers and mouth all over you again, you also were respectful of boundaries and you knew not to push him when he wasn't ready.

It's a particularly quiet Monday shift, Christmas had been and gone and that left the January slump. You're sitting perched pretty on a twirling stool, swinging it back and forth a little with your foot that's resting on a bit of wood below your feet. Your chin is in your hand as you lean onto the counter, big jumper drowning you to block out the chill of the cool, snowy air blasting through the drafty door every so often.

Eddie is... well he's Eddie. Keeping himself occupied arranging some new tapes that had come in just before Christmas when you had no time to sort them. He wasn't usually so quick to actually do the work you were paid to do, usually sat on his ass all day like you did and would flip through his weird comic books.

You break the almost tense silence with a loud sigh, getting agitated with watching and hearing Eddie doing his work, "Eddie, honey, you've been rearranging A through D for the last hour, there can't be anything left that you've missed."

He actually has the nerve to roll his eyes at you, not daring to look up and face you but you catch him doing it. What a little brat.

"Eddie, what have I actually done wrong?" And oh, there it is, tumbling out of your mouth like an intrusive thought let loose before you can catch it and swallow it back up.

"You've done nothing wrong." He mutters, letting his curls fall over his face to hide himself from your view, "I just feel... awkward, is all. Like I can't look you in the face because I keep picturing what we did."

Oh.

"Did you not like it or somethin'? Cause to me it seemed like you did." You're huffing and puffing like a spoilt kid, if you were standing up you'd of been stomping your foot.

"I-I did like it, that's the problem," Eddie sighs, defeated as he throws his head back and looks up at the ceiling like it's the most interesting thing in the world, "but how can I look at you and go on like before when you made me, well."

He's such a virgin. He can't even get the words out right without cringing and you're caught halfway between endeared and annoyed.

"You jizzed in your pants, Eds. Jesus Christ." You spit it out for him and it comes out harsher than you had meant, you inwardly cringe at yourself when you see the downtrodden look on his face, like a puppy that's been kicked, "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean it like that, handsome. It's just... it happened and I enjoyed it too."

"Why are you doing this?" He asks eventually, looking at you now with his big, wet puppy dog eyes and your legs turn to jelly, he's just so fucking pretty, "Is it... is it like a joke or something? Did somebody put you up to it?"

You gawp at him open mouthed for a second, "Ouch, that hurt. Are you that oblivious to how much I actually like you? I've literally had to stop myself pouncing on you from the day we met. You're just so goddamn pretty. I sort of guessed you were kinda inexperienced but I didn't know you were a virgin until you admitted it to me that night. I jus' wanna show you how to make a girl feel good. You didn't even need my help, you fucked me with your fingers so good all on your own."

You can't help it, you squeeze your thighs together as the heat creeps up your neck remembering just how well Eddie had fingered you, how he'd brought you to the edge so fast with little instruction. He was perfect.

He looks at you for a second, all dumb and wide eyed, before glancing at the clock, noticing the time and realising you should've shut ten minutes ago. He prances over to lock the door, then swiftly exits through to the back where the break room and bathroom were.

You follow Eddie wordlessly, jumping down from the stool and wandering through not far behind. You're gonna talk about this before you lose your nerve and make things worse.

He makes for the bathroom and before he can shut the door you place your hand on it, shoving your way in and slamming it behind you.

It's like a fucking airplane bathroom, you're wedged up against the door and Eddie's back is up against the sink. He's looking at you all bug eyed, in a silent 'what the fuck', but he's not saying anything to get you to leave.

"You just gonna stand there and look all pretty and stupid or are you gonna talk?" You ask, folding your arms over your chest. You notice Eddie's idiotic glance down at your tits, all squished together under the pressure of your arms and you laugh sarcastically - right in his face. Incredible.

"I just wanted to take a piss." He says it like he's dumb and at this point you're starting to question if he truly is as stupid as he makes himself out to be around you.

Eddie's big, wet loser boy eyes have you captured. Have done from the get go. You find yourself relaxing a bit and losing your hard stare as you finally drink in his appearance properly for the first time in weeks. His lips are so full and red, albeit chapped from the cold weather, and his nose is all cute. Suddenly you realise all you can think about is shoving his stupid face into your cunt and riding it senseless.

He makes the first move, which. My god. His hand comes out to grip at your squishy cheeks carefully, thumb rubbing along your bottom lip and his long fingers fanning up the side of your face, the tips resting gently in your hair.

You melt into his touch, lunging forward to capture his lips and instantly you're licking into his mouth. You want Eddie all over you, consuming your entire being.

He's still so shit at kissing but he'll get there eventually with some coaching. It's hot the way that he basically drools into your mouth, tongue lapping at yours gingerly like he's frightened. One day, you think, he'll be confident enough to spit in your mouth and make you swallow it.

Baby steps, you think to yourself, trying to rewind back from that thought.

"Can I, uh, can I do something?" Eddie asks quietly once he pulls away from your mouth, a string of spit following and you have to shut your eyes and clench your thighs at the sight of it.

You nod fervently, gasping out loud when he drops to his knees in front of you like a bitch in heat. Your tummy quivers, anticipating what he's going to do next.

Eddie's hands slide up your thighs, covered in thick black tights this time because it's too cold for fishnets in this damn snow, gingerly resting just below the cut of your big sweater. He's looking up at you again with his big sparkling eyes, leaning his cheek against the meat of your left thigh, and from this angle he looks so submissive. Your cunt clenches around nothing at the sight.

"Are you insinuating what I think you are?" You ask, voice quivering a little, just to make sure you're getting this right, "You wanna lick me out?"

Eddie cringes a little at the way you word it, cheeks flushing red, but he nods and grips onto your thighs in reply, "You could - you could show me how."

"Baby boy," You coo, running your hand over his curls and gripping them a little. You don't miss the way Eddie keens into the touch, a breathy sigh shuddering out of him, "I'll show you anything you want me to show you. Slide my tights down."

It happens in a weird blur, Eddie leans back on his haunches and grips the material of your tights in between his fingers, tugging them down slowly and pulling your panties along. By accident, you'd assume, with the sheepish look he gives you when he realises.

There's no patience for you to toe your beaten Docs off to help slide your tights off, so they're left pooled around your ankles. You take it upon yourself to spread your legs and Eddie eagerly looks, eyes bugging out at the sight of your slick pussy in some real lighting.

"All that's for you, pretty boy," It's true, really. You were wet just from looking at his face and the careful way he spoke to you and asked you for things, "Y'gonna lean forward and put your mouth to work? Just start by licking flat against me so you can feel it out."

Eddie does what you tell him to without question, nudging forward in between your open legs and dipping down to lick a flat stripe up your pussy, his fat tongue gliding right between your folds, catching your clit just barely at the end.

"That's it, Eddie, fuck," You shiver, hand instinctively coming back out to grasp at the curls on top of his head. He's looking at you still, wet eyes glimmering, nose perched perfectly on your mound, he's like a wet fucking dream, "keep doing that and I'll help, 'kay?"

It's almost like Eddie was naturally made to be buried face deep in pussy because his enthusiasm is unmatched. He begins this assault on your cunt like his life depends on it, hands gripping your thighs tight for purchase, as he licks fat stripes up and down your pussy, there's no rhythm at all but that doesn't matter. He finds your clit as quickly this time as the last time and he points his tongue to lick over it lazily, flicking that bundle of nerves just right.

You can't take your eyes off of him, legs shaking and hands tightening in his hair so hard he moans. You'd need to come back to that another time, because what the fuck?

"Shit, Eddie, your mouth is sinful," You choke out, fucking your hips up against his face a little when he sucks at your clit, "you didn't need any help, you - god, right there - knew exactly what to do already."

Eddie finds his rhythm slowly but surely and you finally shut your eyes, thumping your head back against the door. He's licking at your opening, dipping his tongue in and out experimentally, nose pressed tightly into your cunt, rubbing at your clit. You don't know how he's breathing but you don't care and you're thinking he doesn't either.

Your hips move of their own accord, back and forth, the sweet catch and drag of his nose over your clit and his tongue flicking back and forth is bringing you close to your peak ridiculously quick.

You're gonna give him an ego at this rate and you can't risk that. You need him bashful and dumb for a bit longer yet.

Suddenly, a moan grumbles out of Eddie's throat and it vibrates against your cunt. You chance a peek down and you realise one of his hands is gone and pressing tightly against his covered cock. He's a fucking mess, eyes wet from tears and he's panting against you in between devouring your pussy.

"You gonna cum in your, God, pants again? With my sweet pussy in your mouth?" You're losing it but you can't help but tease Eddie, watching intently as your hips rock back and forth, the sweet drag of the bulb of his nose over your clit driving you wild.

He's moaning like crazy and you can feel him jerking into his own hand, still not even attempting to get his hand in, just happy to have the little bit of friction.

Eddie cums quick and sudden, you can tell by the way his mouth falters on your cunt and the whine that escapes him, his eyes finally leaving yours and squeezing shut.

"That's it, cum in your pants again. Fuck, this is so hot," You're whining, rubbing furiously against Eddie's face again, but now he's gripping your thighs again and back to assaulting your clit with intent, nose buried into your mound once again. He's clearly trying to get you there, you can tell by the way his brows are furrowed and he looks like he's concentrating.

"Uh, that's it, keep doing that," You're a whining, babbling mess now, the pressure in your tummy mounting fast, building hot and making goosebumps spread all over your body, "I'm cumming, shit, Eddie, fuck, fuck, fuck."

You moan so loud if anyone was around they'd of heard you clear as day, your grip in his hair so tight it's got to fucking hurt, thighs squeezing around his head as you almost double over on top of him, your orgasm shaking through you so violently your legs are buckling.

It takes you a second to come to, pulling yourself back up and releasing Eddie's hair sheepishly. He's looking at you all dumb with a big grin, his face and neck covered in your release and your cunt squeezes around nothing at the sight.

"You really do have me losing my mind here, handsome," You sigh, helping him up off of his knees and cringing at the cracking his bones do as he straightens himself out.

You can't help it, peaking down to see the wet patch formed on the front of his worn in jeans, but you notice this time his cock is still straining against the zipper, "Are you... are you hard again?" You ask, eyes lighting up.

Eddie nods, "Sorry, s'just. That was so hot and I really liked it," He's all bashful, red in the face and his brown eyes glistening like a puppy who's being played with.

"Don't be sorry," You puff out a little laugh as you bend down to pull your panties and tights back up, snapping them against your belly, "can I touch you?"

"Are- are you sure? You don't have to, shit," Eddie's stumbling over his words, gasping when your hands effortlessly work on his button and zip on his jeans. You didn't have to wait any longer, the green light was there and you were taking full advantage.

You pull down his soiled pants and boxers just enough for his cock to spring out, all flushed red at the tip and begging to be touched. It's so much prettier than you hoped it'd be, matches Eddie perfectly, it's thick and long and you want your mouth around it.

That'd wait for another day, though.

Eddie is flush with embarrassment but he can't take his eyes off of you, choking on his tongue when you lean over to spit directly onto the hot head of his cock.

"Sorry handsome, this'll probably be quick for you," You admit, hand wrapping tight over the head and then spreading the spit down his shaft. You don't miss the high pitched whine that escapes his lips, you don't miss how he looks down to watch your fist fuck him expertly with wide eyes and curiosity.

"God, sweetheart, y-your hand feels so good," Eddie sounds like he's crying, voice wet and needy, but you can't tear your eyes away from his pretty cock sliding in and out of your tight fist to look. He's blurting out so much precum that your hand is slicking up and down effortlessly, you know this is gonna be over before you know it.

"Shit, shit," Eddie's gasping, hand clinging onto your shoulder for purchase. You finally look back up at him now, not wanting to miss the look on his face when he cums, thumb flicking over the head of his cock and wrist twisting, bringing him closer and closer.

"Yeah? Y'gonna cum for me? I know you want to," Your words are hot and heavy, you don't mean to sound as dirty as you do but that's the way it comes out and it works, because Eddie is fucking losing it, moaning and whining all high pitched and cute and cumming all over your fist.

You surge forward and capture his lips with yours, working him through the last of it as his cum drips down your fingers, making a mess of your sweater and his own shirt. He moans into your mouth all hot and needy, fingers still clenching your shoulder tight enough to bruise.

When you finally release his slowly softening cock and take a step back, you take in the full mess in front of you. Eddie is so red in the face, hair dripping with sweat, clothes all crumpled up and dishevelled looking.

He whines, leaning his head on your shoulder and burying his face in, "You're gonna be the death of me. Thank you, thank you."

"Don't thank me just yet, pretty boy. You can do that next time when you fuck me over the top of this sink."

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convolutedblasphemy · 4 months

Text

Ace in the Hole

notes: originally didn't plan to write abt hazbin or interact with the fandom because i've... heard tales... but for a show with a canonically aroace character my fellow asexual brethren deserve more content that caters to them. don't let this flop please.

synopsis: playing cards with the radio demon, you decide to make a harmless ace joke after rosie informed you that alastor is aroace. you soon have to realize that he has no idea what you're talking about and now he wants an explanation.

contains: alastor x reader (platonic or queerplatonic), gn!reader, aspec reader (left as vague as possible), shenanigans

warnings: alastor's eating habits, i left it vague where exactly on the ace / aro spectrum reader is but they do make jokes about allonormative society in the story so be warned.

"Come in", you heard Alastor's voice from behind the door, along with the familiar radio static you could perceive whenever you walked past his room. However, you had never actually been inside. But following the offer, you pushed the door open and stepped into the radio demon's quarters.

The sight that greeted you was something that was half bedroom, half forest. It was as though someone had ripped the hotel room in half and put it into the woods. Alastor was sitting at a small table on the grass, in front of him a plate with a raw deer head on it. His metal fork was buried in the creature.

"Ah, it's you", he exclaimed with a tone that sounded overjoyed, "how can i be of assistance on this fine day? Excuse the mess, my dear, I'm just enjoying a nice brunch."

You hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the lifeless deer head and the questionable things that Alastor considered "brunch". You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, glancing back and forth between the radio demon and the dead animal. Pressing your lips together to a thin line, you shook your head. "You know what... I'm not even going to question this anymore", you let out a sigh, "deer cannibalism... why the fuck not, I guess?"

The last part you mumbled to yourself but Alastor's ears perked up when he heard the statement. "Oh, would you like some?", he offered, holding the plate up, "I still have the eyes left. They're the tastiest part."

You cringed upon hearing those words, trying to limit the amount of disgust that showed on your face. "No thank you, Alastor...", you rejected his offer awkwardly, "I would like for my stomach to remain intact."

"Your loss. More for me!", he shrugged with a satisfied smile on his face and plopped one of the eyes into his mouth. A quiet ew escaped your mouth and Alastor looked up to you again. "Did you say anything, my dear?", he turned the fork in his hand, inspecting it, though you were unsure what he was hoping to find.

"I was just wondering when you'd be finished with our poor furry friend over here", you explained and Alastor, who had noticed how you felt about the beheaded deer on his plate, was kind enough to cover the rest with aluminum foil and put it in the fridge. Damn right, you better not put this thing in the community fridge downstairs, you thought to yourself.

"Oh, what's the rush?", he wondered and looked at you with a curious glint in his eyes. "I was just wondering if- god, you're so questionable", you interrupted your inquiry when you caught a glimpse at the inside of Alastor's fridge, containing many such "meals" as you had just seen, "I was wondering if you'd like to play a game with me. Board games, card games... you can pick. Just nothing where I have to sell my soul."

Alastor let out a laugh. "Ah, you know me too well", he put a hand on your back and led you over to a bench in the corner and a table, "well, I'd be delighted to. So long as it's not Monopoly, that game is a crime against humanity."

"How so?", you asked raising an eyebrow. "It has led to countless divorces and at least one case of someone being burnt alive", he explained. "I'm just going to assume you had nothing to do with the latter?", you chuckled and Alastor gave you a proud smile.

"I can assure you, it was one hell of a barbecue!"

"I trust nothing that you would label a barbecue", you sighed.

"And why is that?", he asked and you gestured towards the empty table where he had just devoured the deer head, "ah, good point. So, what game would you suggest we play? Will anyone else be joining us?"

You shook your head. "No, it's just us. Angel is making the others downstairs watch his 'best performances of the last decade' and I did NOT need to see that. Also one of Pentious' Egg Bois apparently has the measles- no fucking clue how that works- but I didn't want to risk it", you let out sigh, "and then I was bored so I'm glad that you have time to indulge me."

"Always a pleasure, dearest", he hummed, manifesting a deck of cards out of seemingly nowhere, "so what you're saying is that I am your last and only choice of entertainment?" He smirked at you from across the table.

"Well, considering that the other options are worse, I'd say you're my first choice of entertainment", you reasoned with a smile. "Flattery will get you nowhere, darling", he chuckled.

"Why is it so hard to be nice to you?", you rolled your eyes, which only made Alastor laugh again. "Would you like some coffee or tea?", he asked, summoning a cup of black coffee for himself. You nodded. "Tea would be nice." Alastor snapped his fingers once and you could now find a small porcelain cup in front of you with some tea.

"Just so we're on the same page here, this is normal tea, right?", you inquired. "What do you consider 'normal' tea?", he looked at you with an amused smile. "Well, tea that is made from herbs, has no meat in it and won't give me Prion's disease", you elaborated, resulting in Alastor snickering and holding his hand in front of his mouth. "It's just hibiscus tea", he assured you. You were satisfied enough with that answer and took a sip, realizing that it was indeed just regular tea. It had a nice taste and made you wonder why Alastor would dislike it.

"You seem to enjoy it", he remarked, watching you from across the table. You nodded. "It's nice. Thank you", you smiled at him and then shot him a challenging glare, "who knows, if you keep doing nice gestures like this for others, maybe you'll go to heaven after all."

"HA! Heaven?", he let out a laugh and leaned back into his seat, "I have a better chance at becoming the next queen of England!" You found the mental image of that amusing. "Who knows?", you shrugged, "the afterlife is long and if Charlie eventually intends to be able to redeem everyone, you're going to be the leader of the angels before there's any chance of progress on Mothman's ugly nephew."

Alastor gave you an amused chuckle upon hearing what nickname you had just used to refer to Valentino.

"If that happens, heaven's lost all sense of self-preservation", you could hear static over his laugh and his image seemed distorted for a moment, his pupils replaced by radio dials. He returned back to his usual form just mere seconds after.

"As for the game", you suggested, "how about we play Rummy? Haven't played that in a while."

Alastor nodded. "That should provide plenty of entertainment for me", he began handing out the cards, "especially when you lose and sink into the miserable pit of despair." The last part had his voice distorted by the radio static.

Alastor handed out the cards and you began playing. Unfortunately for you, he already had plenty of melds on the table when your hand was still full of cards. You watched him curiously as he was focusing on his hand, planning his next move. You noticed how the ears on his head twitched a little, one of them flicking back as if something had irritated it. That's so adorable, you thought to yourself, suppressing a smile.

"Don't think I don't notice you staring", he chuckled without looking up from his cards. You denied it. "Are you going senile or having hallucinations?", you teased and Alastor played three aces on the table.

The Radio Demon was ready to tease you in return when you interrupted him. "Oh look! It's us!", you pointed at the three aces. Alastor looked a little confused but ran with it. "And who's the third ace?", he asked.

"Well, technically I don't know any other aces in hell so far...", you put a finger to your chin, "I was making a joke. It was a little flawed but I thought it was funny." "So we're two aces?", he asked for clarification.

You nodded.

"So you view us as the most valuable cards in the deck?", he further questioned. Rosie had told you that Alastor was what people would nowadays classify as aroace. What she didn't mention with any word, however, was whether or not Alastor was aware of that and as you now had to realize, he had no idea, which put you in an awkward position. "Oh god, you don't fucking know...", you mumbled and Alastor's ears perked up.

"Know what? Which part of the joke am I not getting?", he wondered, tilting his head to the side as the static got louder and his tone seemed more threatening, "I hope you aren't trying to mock me."

"Not at all", you raised your hands defensively and sighed, "I just forgot you're from a different time period and unfamilar with the terms. Rosie told me you're aroace."

"A what now?", he blinked in confusion.

You sighed, whispering to yourself. "I should have a PowerPoint ready for scenarios like this- never mind!", you found your enthusiasm again and began explaining the terms to him.

Alastor nodded slowly when you were finished, as though he was having an epiphany. "So you're saying I'm not experiencing sexual and romantic attraction because I am aroace and not because I am unhinged and clinically insane?", he asked with a wide smile on his face.

"The clinical insanity is in fact its own separate thing", you confirmed. "Good to know", Alastor seemed delighted, "back in the day it might have been considered a mental illness, so I never brought the topic up with my psychiatrist, after all I wouldn't be able to do my radio show from the psych ward, right?"

"Priorities...", you remarked dryly, "wait- you had a psychiatrist? And you still ended up like this?"

Alastor shrugged. "I was there for my irrational fear of bees, not because of the homicides."

You raised an eyebrow: "And you really didn't think mentioning the homicides was necessary?"

"Of course not!", Alastor exclaimed gleefully, "they didn't cause me any distress."

"Right...", you gave him a slightly concerned gaze, "did it at least help with the phobia?"

"It did. I am no longer scared of bees."

"That's great."

"I eat them now."

You buried your head in your hands. "Well that's just wonderful, Al..."

"So asexuality... it's pretty rare from what I understand? During my lifetime I've never met anyone else who felt this way, at least not that I knew of", he explained and you smiled at him. "Estimated to be about 1% of the population", you answered. Alastor smirked at you. "Why do you seem so excited?", he asked.

"Solidarity!", you exclaimed and held your hand up so he could give you a high-five. The fact evaded you, that Alastor also didn't know what a high-five was, so he just ended up linking his fingers with yours and holding your hand. "So what now?", he asked, staring at your hands with a confused smile.

"You're a little confused but you've got the spirit", you brought out with a wheeze, trying to hold back from laughing. Alastor chose not to dwell on the gesture any longer.

"Well, I suppose you're right, it does feel nice to have somebody who is also immune to the flesh vessels of the feeble mortals", he admitted, and you raised an eyebrow in surprise at his description. "That's one way to put it..."

After losing the game of Rummy to Alastor and answering a variety of other questions he had such as "Why are there flags and what do the colors mean?" and "Does it still count if the garlic bread and cake has raw venison on it?", you decided it was time to join the others downstairs again, as Charlie had another exercise planned for today. "I must say, you're a delight to be around", Alastor remarked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder like he would with an old friend, "do feel free to stop by any time, my dear."

You thought it was a pity he didn't intend to join you downstairs, but you felt as though the two of you had gotten a little closer by finding something you had in common. And Alastor refused to show it on his face, but you had a feeling, that there was a little relief and peace inside him, knowing that there wasn't a big part of the human experience he was told he was missing out on after all.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated! If this gets enough notes I'll write Alastor QPR headcanons.

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #asexual #ace #ace alastor #aroace #aroace alastor #aromantic

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