#and it just feels! lazy? odd? to take the whole ''he thinks his opinion is always correct'' at face value | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

freezethebeez · 6 months

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Catalyst Epilogue Snippet :]

Sorry for being gone for so long! Things haven't been crazy at all, I've just been lazy.

Tonight, I've managed to open the epilogue doc and get some writing done, and to apologize for my absence, I present to you a small, fluffy sniblet.

(The epilogue is still in a very, very rough state. Edits are to ensue, just at a later date.)

Tubbo hums along to the tune of the song playing from his phone as he washes the dishes.

Dinner was fine. Tubbo had his meal while Ranboo sat across from him sipping on a coffee made with half-coffee, half-blood. He says that the caffeine doesn’t really affect him, but he notes liking the smell and taste of it, and Tubbo sure as hell doesn’t mind brewing him some at seven in the evening (he also doesn’t mind the fact that he now has a drawer in his fridge dedicated to bags of blood).

Now Tubbo prepares for bed while Ranboo does… whatever the hell Ranboo does. Look, Tubbo’s not going to be up their ass all the time. Tubbo’s typically pretty clingy, sure, but the novelty of having Ranboo around all the time wore off a while ago. Like, a whole ass living accommodation ago.

The drain of Tubbo’s sink drinks down the dirty, soapy water, making a horrible gurgling noise as it does so. He flicks off the extra drops of water from his hands, and goes to reach for a towel hanging off the handle of the oven, but is met with a surprise.

Ranboo is a tall guy. Really tall. Completely towers over Tubbo. So when Tubbo looks at Ranboo, he’s used to looking up— not down. And he’s certainly not used to seeing Ranboo on one knee either.

And definitely not holding a velvet box that’s been pried open to reveal two rings inside.

“Tubbo,” Ranboo starts, and it’s not until he hears it in their voice that Tubbo realizes how much Ranboo is shaking, “I-I know you’re, like, aromantic and— and everything, but I think you’re really cool and— I kind of really like you, a-and stuff, so— do you wanna marry me?”

Tubbo is speechless. He’s standing stock still with a fucking tea towel in his hand, eyes wide as ever.

“It could just be for tax purposes if you—”

“No, Ranboo, I—” Tubbo says, and he doesn’t think he’s ever watched someone’s heart shatter in real time until now— until he realizes how poorly he’s just phrased that, and he quickly begins to backtrack, “No, what I mean to say is yes. Yes, I’ll marry you, Ranboo, but I— gods, just stand up already, it’s weird looking down at you.”

Ranboo complies, rising back to his feet again, causing Tubbo’s head to tilt upwards, the familiar dull ache in his neck comfortably settling back in.

With the rings a little closer to his face now, Tubbo takes a moment to get a close look at them.

They appear completely normal from the outside— just two, matching, golden bands— but as Tubbo draws near, he notices something.

A small, thin streak of red in the middle of one of them. The other is merely engraved with Tubbo’s birthday written in long, curly numbers.

Odd.

“So which one’s for me?” Tubbo asks. He has a feeling the red one would be his, because it wouldn’t make a whole lot of sense to have an engagement ring with his own birthday on it, but one could never be too sure.

“O-oh, uh, this one,” Ranboo replies, frantically fiddling with the pair and nearly dropping one of them in the process. Eventually, his fingers find the one with the thin red line through the middle, presenting it to Tubbo.

Tubbo instinctively lifts his hand, allowing Ranboo to slide the ring onto his finger. Tubbo’s not entirely sure how proposals are supposed to go, but he’s had enough movie marathons with Tommy to know the gist of how they’re meant to work— and this feels mostly right, save for the fact that they’re not standing at the top of a mountain with a breathtaking view (the kitchen, however, works just fine, in Tubbo’s humble opinion).

“Awesome,” Tubbo beams, lifting his hand up, fingers outstretched, eyes adjusting to the new image of the back of his hand, now featuring a ring. He doesn’t take too long admiring the view, thankfully, saving Ranboo from crumbling into a nervous wreck by taking the other ring in their hand and sliding it onto their finger as well.

“Just curious,” Tubbo asks, taking Ranboo’s hand into his own, eyes fixated on the matching ring on the snow white half of Ranboo’s body, “what’s the red shit in mine?”

Ranboo snorts. “You really have such a— such a way with words, Tubbo,” they say.

“Aren’t you glad to be stuck with them for the rest of my life?”

“Your life?” Ranboo questions Tubbo’s word choice.

“Yeah, my life,” Tubbo replies, not missing a beat. “I mean, unless you plan on dying soon, you’re probably going to outlive me. And, like, by a lot, right?”

“Oh…” Ranboo’s shoulders sag. In fact, every single part of him seems to droop. “Right,” they mumble.

“Sorry,” Tubbo apologizes, giving Ranboo’s hands a light squeeze, “sensitive topic, I guess.”

Ranboo shrugs, “Not really. I’m just… I don’t like to think about it.”

“Makes sense.” Tubbo nods and sniffles. “Anyways, what was I on about?”

“The red stuff.”

“Right! The red shit.” A smile finds its way back to Ranboo’s face, tension in the air dissipating like the sun breaking through the fog in the morning. “What the hell is it?”

“It’s my blood.” And Ranboo says it with such nonchalance. So deadpan and straight to the point that Tubbo nearly mistakes it for the weather.

When Tubbo first met Ranboo, he thought the guy was, like, actively afraid of blood, or something. First ever vampire to have hemophobia— something ironic like that. Ranboo refused to even say the word for the longest time, so for them to not only say it, but also put some of it— some of their own into their engagement rings, it’s—

Well Tubbo might just cry.

But first, he has questions that need answers.

“You can bleed?!” Tubbo exclaims.

“Wh— of course I can? What kind of question is that?”

“A damn good one. I didn’t know vampires could fucking bleed. I didn’t even know they had blood in them!” Ranboo’s eyes go wide. “Oh my gods, is that why you need to drink mine—”

“Tubbo, no. No, that’s— that’s not it at all,” Ranboo corrects. “I should— I should really teach you some vampire biology, or something, gods.”

“Listen, okay, don’t make me look like an idiot here,” Tubbo defends. “They don’t teach this shit in school, alright? Maybe the basics, but that’s it. The only thing I knew about vampires is that they existed and they drank blood. Nothing more.”

“Please tell me you know more than that now.”

“Of course I do! I know that you guys sleep all day, you’re only up at night, and you’ve never seen the sun.”

Ranboo stares blankly at him. “You just said the same thing, like, three times.”

“Whatever, dude.” Tubbo rolls his eyes. “Catch me up to speed then. I’ve got spoons to dry.”

#catalyst #phewy it's been a while #i can see myself doing a little more writing soon so HOPEFULLY i'll actually have this done lol #preferably sometime before 2024 #but who knows at this point

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the-martyrfication-of-the-matron · 3 years

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I’ve been thinking about what I’m gonna do when I rewrite mystreet (won’t be for a while, but I like to preplan) and I don’t know whether or not to cut out s1-3.

I know for many people those are the best three seasons, they’re goofy people doing goofy things, but I prefer s4-6. I like darker undertones, and that’s what those three seasons have (s5 less than the others, but it’s still there). It seems odd to have a lighthearted funny series, and then have it randomly switch to cold-hearted murder, and so I obviously need to remove one. And I chose the light hearted ness.

It’s not a definite decision, but if I were to go through with it, it would probably go something like:

-Emerald Secret, with an episode or two added onto the start to introduce the characters and the situation. Hinting at the whole Ein being Aphmau’s brother thing. Because it could have been a genuinely okay twist if properly built up.

-Aphmau’s year as it’s own season. I think it would be pretty important to focus on Aphmau’s response to ES, and how it changes her interactions with people as she recovers emotionally from it. Plus, I’m sure many people would be happy to be Aaron-less for a season. Im not one of them, I love him, but… gotta cater to my audience.

-Starlight Wonderland. Develops Aaron’s relationship with his dad a bit more. Aaron and Derek get along, Aaron knows why his dad treated him poorly growing up. But that doesn’t mean he’s forgiven him completely. He thinks Derek should’ve tried to find some other way to control his son than abusing him, and he doesn’t exactly keep that opinion to himself. Want to go further in depth about Derek working with Michael and the others, mostly through Melissa doing her own research after getting doubts about how her family got it’s wealth. Other than that, pretty much the same as the original season. Oh, and get rid of Aphmau’s weirdness to Aaron being a werewolf. Her calling him Alpha and stuff made my skin crawl.

-When Angels fall. DEVELOP THE INCEST TWIST MORE. I feel like Aaron wasn’t made out to be badass enough in this season, oddly enough, so gotta bump that up a bit. A bit more push on Aphmau and her connection to Irene. Reference to Hyria because she’s severely underrated.

-Her wish. A smaller season than the others, but a season none the less. Aphmau and Aaron spend an entire month with ‘Renee’, just a bit longer than the original. We get to see ‘Renee’ being a bit of a badass, we develop on her iffiness around certain people, and the shit she almost gets caught for but doesn’t because Aaron is blind And can’t exactly catch her doing shit If he can’t see shit. Also some hints that Aphmau is pregnant, but nothing too out there. Because we can’t reveal that until Aaron is dead. Which will happen in the hypothetical 6th season of my rewrite. Because ✨drama✨

Another thing: what should I replace Christmas with? This takes place in a fictional world, they would have different holidays… so like… need some suggestions for that. If Yall could be so kind.

Also, heres a bad sketch I did of the original MCD designs for characters

And here’s me redesigning the original designs. Two of the designs I already had but I like drawing them so. (Ignore the poses, I was being lazy)

#aphmau #minecraft diaries #aphverse #mcd #rewrite

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stellocchia · 3 years

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To this day I don't understand why cTechno actually wanted to team up with Tommy. I mean irl I know it was all the sweet sweet money both CCs were making. And I get that his in story justification was corrupting Tommy. But like... Why bother? Like, just think about the decisions Techno usually makes and just. Why the fuck did he bother? It just doesn't really seem very techno like... Especially when Dream became a mild nuisance. Like yeah, I'm not saying that it would have been in character for techno to be quivering in fear at the prospect of having Dream against him. I just feel like.... Why was turning Tommy to the dark side worth mild and often more than mild annoyance? Technos never expressed an interest in turning people against someone else in any other situation. Like, you could argue the anarchy thing he wants to spread? But that's really not the same. I don't think he's ever tried getting Tommy to become an anarchist while the syndicate recruitment (well, Nikki is the only real example because everyone else isn't really recruited) is about people with the same anarchistic ideals coming together.

And fighting against government was also never about convincing others of anarchy, he never recruited anyone for it he just did that by himself.

And again, it's not like he was slowly turning Tommy anarchistic. He was just turning him hostile against lmanberg. The whole thing with Tommy wasn't convincing Tommy of his ideals, it was about having Tommy on his side against lmanberg because..... It'd be cool???

But that's odd. Like. I can see the wow factor in having the once heroic defender ending up as the destroyer. I can. But Technos not into the wow factor LIKE THAT. Dream likes engineering situations that are as emotionally confusing as possible. Wilbur likes to engineer situations in this storytelling kinda way. Techno? He's lazy, straight forward and blunt. The whole hero speech is the only time he makes the situation more dramatic but that's literally just a speech and it didn't take any effort on his part

So why TF was it so important to him that Tommy was on his side in this? Why? How a I supposed to interpret that? I used to excuse it as Techno having a soft spot for tommy and nostalgia from pogtopian times. Not in a very extreme way, just enough to like the idea of having Tommy on his side. But literally everything that's happened since has disproven that. At the very latest his reaction to Tommy's murder.

And again, I don't think techno had to see dream as a threat to decide that Tommy wasn't worth possibly souring dreams opinion of techno. I literally just believe that techno just doesn't give enough of a fuck to endure a person knocking on his house for another person he doesn't even consider a semi good friend.

And I just don't think they had enough of a bond when dream visited the first time.

I just don't buy it, ok? The more time passes, the less Techno proves to give a fuck about almost anything and the less sense it makes that he'd not only put up with Tommy but also even just offer to team up.

I think part of it may have been that Techno was at a low at that point. Like, New L'Manburg had managed to capture him and had almost managed to execute him, so he may have considered them more of a threat than they were. And with Phil locked up he didn't really have any ally he actually trusted?

So yeah. I do think that Techno wanted Tommy on his side out of need. I don't think it was out of a sense of caring at the start at all quite frankly. I do think he started caring at some point, but clearly not that much. Either that or he really can just lose any care he has for people at the first perceived slight. Just like that. I don't know, he's kind of an asshole, so it's possible.

But yeah. For the first time ever he almost lost. For the first time ever someone managed to momentarily get the upper hand on him. So it's not unreasonable that, in those circumstances, he would do something that's out of character for him.

It's also to be noted that he may have simply seen some of his own situation in Tommy. He really did feel betrayed by Pogtopia for some reason. He really did feel used. So he may have empathized with Tommy to some extent seeing him be betrayed as well (which seems to be the case with Techno visiting him in exile on the first day and all that).

So yeah. I think it's a mix of the two.

#ladycatland ask #dream smp #technoblade #c!techno critical #long post

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shoichee · 3 years

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Hey luv! I just got my braces off and I don’t know if I like myself with or without them cause yah girl has ✨confidence issues✨ so can you do the GoM + Kagami and Teppei thanks my savior

OH, rn i have braces too (although they’re ceramic and harder to see) but I definitely can understand the apprehension when you have them taken off after for so long;;

the amount of characters requested actually exceed the rules, but since i’ve taken a while to get to your request, i’ll still do them but they will be shorter^^ THANK YOU FOR STICKING BY THIS BLOG AND READING MY STUFF <3

[Headcanons]

Kuroko Tetsuya

right away, he notices that something was amiss with you, and asks upfront if anything was bothering you

you replied hesitantly, but while you talked you held up a hand in front of your mouth:

“Um… I don’t know if I like how I look right now…”

Kuroko stares at your nervous eyes and then looks down to your hand in front of your mouth before asking why

“Just got my braces off, and I feel a bit… weird without them? I feel like I look strange without them…”

“Do you mind if I see you?” he asks, softening his eyes at you

“W-Well… you’re not someone to judge, I know, but don’t… laugh or anything.”

“I won’t, (y/n)-san.”

he slowly brings your hand down and you slowly smile to reveal your teeth to him, and he gives you the purest smile… and that catches you off guard so badly like… YOUR TEETH GOT HIM TO SMILE LIKE THAT??? DAMN, MAYBE YOU SHOULD SMILE EVERY SECOND TO SEE SUCH A TREASURE—

“(y/n)-san, I think you look wonderful,” he muses, bringing your same hand that was in front of your mouth into his own hand with a gentle squeeze. “I’m sure everyone who sees you will think the same.”

ah Kuroko, the individual who has a knack in comforting people with his genuity (example: see Momoi)

whenever you do have those moments of self-consciousness again, he’s always there to calmly reassure you otherwise

Kise Ryouta

IMMEDIATELY sees your teeth when you talk, and freaks out like a little kid on Christmas

“(y/n)-cchi! (y/n)-cchi!!” he hoots around, pointing at his own teeth. “You got your braces off today! You look amazing!”

when you hesitate and tell him that you’re not so sure about yourself without your braces, he pinches your cheek and gives a little dramatic huff

“But (y/n)-cchi…! Come onnnn, trust me!” he says, giving a signature pout, and you laugh at his antics

“Ohhh, do that again! Do that again!” (he craves for your laughs, and he wants more)

he definitely tries to get you to smile and laugh to get you more comfortable with your braceless teeth

whether you have braces or not, he doesn’t mind so much because what he really cares about is your smile, and if he sees your teeth showing, braces or without, it means that he knows he’s doing a good job in making you comfortable and happy

while he showers you in praises every single moment, when you feel really down, he takes an extra measure or two to cuddle you gently while being much softer in delivering those compliments

always gives a daily compliment to give you a serotonin boost

Midorima Shintarou

he’s confused… why would you be upset that you got your braces off? you looked great before and even now, so does the fact of braces really change your perception of your appearance that much?

he won’t make any comment on your new appearance unless you bring it up to him and ask for his opinion/reassurance

he’s just happy for you that you have another milestone of your life, and not to mention, braces generally promote better oral health and fix misaligned bites

“Hm? What do I think of how you look? D-Don’t be ridiculous… What am I supposed to say?”

“Well, I just… think I look a little odd… I kind of… want my braces back.”

“You know you can’t do that, nanodayo,” he sighs. “So much money, effort, and care were invested into your teeth for many years. You did the most you could to take care of them and achieved the goal you set out for yourself when you first got braces, correct? That isn’t something to be ashamed of, nanodayo.”

despite his lecturing, his words do have some merit, and Midorima’s words were comforting in his own way

“But Midorima, um… sorry for annoying you,” you say, giving a chagrined smile

Midorima takes a good look at your exposed teeth for the first time and widens his eyes in a fluster before turning his eyes back to his astrology book

“I-I-It’s nothing.”

bonus: he’s definitely that one fussy parent who forces you to wear your retainers religiously, NO EXCUSES—he doesn’t want the whole process to be all for naught just because you got lazy in wearing a simple metal thing

Aomine Daiki

idiot #1

“Whoa, your teeth look different,” is something he would say tactlessly

immediately, you slapped your hands over your mouth at his words

forgive him, he usually says what’s on his mind with no filter and consideration

by then, he’d realized that the tone of his words was poorly delivered and would try to correct himself before he says anything more to dig himself a deeper grave

“Er, sorry, what I mean is… I didn’t know you were gonna have them off today…”

that actually made you more self-conscious and you try to flee from the scene

“W-Wait, hey!”

insert Aomine clumsily explaining that he didn’t mean to be tactless with his words and that he just meant that he was surprised in a good way

definitely shows you a lot more wholesome affection in addition to his usual PDA, but you wonder what he thought about your new “appearance,” so to speak

“What kinda question is that?” he scoffs. “You’re still hot and always will be.”

if there’s one sure benefit to his blunt words, it’s that his straightforwardness can easily dispel all your doubts and clear up any misunderstandings in one go

if you’re still doubtful about yourself, he’ll gladly resort to action to prove his point… perhaps makeout sessions with him would become a lot more exploratory and… just putting it out there, but we will leave this up to your imagination

anywho, he’s not afraid to give you more direct kisses to try to show you that he doesn’t care about your teeth and your lack of braces

definitely would tell out-of-pocket jokes and laugh more to get you to grow comfortable; after all, smiling is contagious right? who can resist Aomine’s smile???

if someone tried to make you uncomfortable by drawing everyone’s attention nearby in how you got your braces off, whether intentional or not, he’s scaring them away, no questions asked and he’s taking you away from the scene

Murasakibara Atsushi

“Oh…” he says with his usual drawl. “You got them off, Chibi-chin?”

it was a usual day with him tucking his own head into his arms to nap on the table when you walked up to him apprehensively, and he immediately notices your presence but lazily picks up his head to look at you when he noticed

“Er… yeah…”

he slightly tilts his head to the side like an inquisitive child to silently question what was wrong

“It’s nothing really! Just feeling tired… not in the talkative mood today.” as you said this, he noticed that you were more… tight-lipped, speaking in a quieter manner as if you were trying not to show your teeth as much as possible

he beckons a languid hand over and you reluctantly sit by his side, your face still slightly turned away

you thought he was just going to go back to sleep like he always does, but imagine your surprise when he easily picks you up from the side and placed you on his lap, face-to-face

Murasakibara then pulls your cheeks apart, revealing your pearly whites to him

“H-H-Hey!! Lert… gorw!”

“Don’t wanna.”

“I’m… serwious!”

he stares at you impassively for a few moments before he suddenly lets your cheeks go and yawns

“... you look fine, Chibi-chin,” he mumbles, and he sets you off his lap before getting up with a stretch. “Besides, now that you don’t have braces anymore, you can finally eat whatever you want right…?”

“I… guess I can…”

and he’s already reaching for your hand to tug you to the nearest takeout with a slight shine of excitement in his dark pupils

“Chibi-chin, we can finally eat those candy apples together you’ve always craved for, lots and lots…”

he’s very fixated on you eating with your braceless teeth for the next few weeks with a small smile on his face, because you enjoying the food you eat are some of the simplest joys he loves when he’s with you (and you hadn’t been able to do that because your braces forbidden you from eating a list of things)

definitely drags you out for food outings a lot more for the next few weeks

he tries his best in trying to make you not think about your teeth and your self-consciousness about them in his roundabout way (note: see his cheek pulling, distracting you with your favorite snacks, etc.)

he’s not someone to make any deal out of it because worrying over such a trivial thing is annoying to him, but nonetheless he certainly wants to make sure that nothing is bothering you because that’s the greatest inconvenience (since he doesn’t like to see you in such a state)… you being upset and worried makes him upset and worried, after all

Akashi Seijuro

he immediately understands that feeling of self-doubt/self-consciousness, but nonetheless he compliments you to let you know that he truly finds you desirable/beautiful inside and out

still, words alone sometimes don’t convince you and even when he gives physical affection to comfort you, there’s still that nagging feeling of how you felt about your teeth

and he’s totally okay with that, and he knows that feeling very well himself (regarding having inner voices that taunt him)

rather than constantly hammering in compliments because he knows that at some point they’d feel more disingenuous the more he says them, he offers you to help overcome the self-consciousness on your own terms

Akashi offers the suggestion of wearing face masks (not necessarily the surgical ones, but the cute/plain colored masks you’d see around!) if you have certain days where you feel low about your braceless teeth

he’d be quite sly and teasing all the while; whenever you wear your cute mask for the day, he’d be a lot more affectionate with the PDA and give pecks on your lips… but the mask is always in the way, preventing you from feeling actual contact with his own lips

he can tell you’d definitely get pouty when you don’t really feel those kisses and he simply laughs and walks on

“You…! I know you only try to kiss me when I have the mask on! Don’t play dumb with me!”

“Hm? Is it really a crime for me to show physical affection to the person I love?”

he eventually does help you coax you out and become comfortable, and your face masks would eventually be stored away in a drawer

he rewards you for being strong in overcoming your own doubts:

“To celebrate your strength in overcoming a huge milestone, what would you like your reward to be?”

“For starters, give me back all those kisses you tried to give me throughout all the times I wore a mask!”

“Of course,” he chuckles, moving closer to your lips. “How could I ever resist you when you’re this stunning?”

Kagami Taiga

idiot #2 (see idiot #1)

unlike idiot #1, idiot #2 doesn’t notice the change on your teeth, at all

he doesn’t know why you’re fidgeting around or acting really, really strange… were you hungry? upset at him for something he didn’t realize he did wrong?

so after a few days after you got your braces off, he finally asks:

“Is there something wrong? Did I do something to upset you?”

poor guy doesn’t know if he was at fault or if he was missing something, and he physically holds his head to try to recall EVERYTHING for the past week

you reassure him that it wasn’t anything like that, but you still had furrowed brows and you were very careful in how you were talking

Kagami thinks you haven’t eaten and offers to make dinner, but eating in front of him for some reason really didn’t sound like a good idea to you so you declined

you’ll eventually tell him that you just felt a bit self-conscious after your braces got taken off

“Huh?”

he stares at your teeth for a very long time, and you immediately regret it, not wanting to draw his attention to you like that

he snaps out of his intense daze and immediately apologizes for making you uncomfortable

“M-My bad… I just didn’t notice until you told me.”

“Really?” you ask, slightly relieved that the change wasn’t as drastic as you thought it would be

“Er, yeah…” he mumbles, scratching his cheek, “you look good, by the way…” but by the time he finished his compliment, it came out as a cough

you can only laugh in relief, knowing that everything he says is always earnest and sincere

Kiyoshi Teppei

definitely noticed that your braces were off, but pretends to not notice until you bring it up yourself because he’s quite sharp and in tune with other people’s emotions

so he treats you like he always does, being the sweet “airhead” that he is, and he waits until you bring it up yourself (because he knows how self-conscious you were about your lack of braces)

you yourself are confused… like… was Teppei actually dense? was your whole inner dilemma not a big deal like your mind thought it would be?

you tug on his sleeve one day and ask him if he noticed your teeth, pointing to them all the while

and he immediately chastises himself (“silly me”) for not noticing, and he tells you that you were beautiful either way, and whether you had braces or not didn’t change that inherent fact (and that was his “reason” for not noticing to reassure you)

all while giving his easy going chuckles and ruffling your hair

laughs at your shyness at his words, not because it’s funny or anything but he truly finds you adorable

once you get comfortable without giving a second thought about your braces gone, he just drops the truth bomb on you so casually like:

“Ahhhh (y/n)-san,” he sighs in nostalgia. “You were really cute when you were so shy about getting them off, you know that?”

“Now wait a second…”

“Hm?”

“What did you say?”

“That you’re really cute.”

“No, no, the other part.”

“Whenever you get shy.”

“That is not what I mean and you know that—”

“Aww, you’re being really cute right now, (y/n)-san. Don’t tempt me to carry you around when I just finished with my physical therapy.”

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astaroth1357 · 4 years

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Demon Brothers First Dates!

The fluff levels are reaching new heights… I might have to write some angst pretty soon to reset my palette. Get any more saccharine and I’m going to end up writing Sunday school specials... 🙄 If anyone has any darker suggestions, hit me up.

Check out the Masterlist for more!

Lucifer

Wanna bet that he’s going to shower them luxury for the evening? The Avatar of Pride doesn’t settle for anything less than utterly obliterating what his competition could offer.

Spending money like Mammon if he won the lottery. Usually he’d be less flippant about price tags, but he needs to seem like he’s on top of the world tonight. His ego’s on the line after all.

Not above asking the MC if there’s any place in the world, Devildom or human, they’d like to see and just taking them there. No objections accepted. You want go to Paris? Then we dine in Paris, get your coat.

Gifts. Gifts. Gifts gifts gifts. Nice ones. Very shiny. Big gifts make them feel special and remind them of him when they see/use them. Better get that subliminal messaging started ASAP. They are his.

Engaging dining conversation, but may bring up work/Diavolo/or the Devildom more often than not. Man just can’t stop thinking like he’s on the job sometimes...

All the brothers would kill to know what happened/what was said but he forbids them from saying anything about it. The night can stay just between them.

Mammon

It is going to go wrong. Somehow, in some way, it will blow up in his face spectacularly. But this is still Mammon we’re talking about so it’s probably going to be a fun ride regardless.

Go to the casino, lose everything, and run like hell from angry employees after causing a scene? That’s on the table. Trying to have a romantic night, getting crashed by some XYZ person who he owes money to, then going through shenanigans to try and avoid them? Equally likely. Things just not working properly to catastrophic levels? Like it’s etched into fate itself.

No matter what trouble follows this boy everywhere. You ride with him, you ought to be down for that. But if chaos is the MC’s domain or they just like to collect funny stories, it will probably be a great time! At least in hindsight, anyway.

He’s not particularly romantic, but will be generally up for doing right about anything that the MC wants to do within reason (of course, he’s a pushover too). He probably doesn’t have a plan before they go and may just wing it based on how they’re feeling and what’s available.

Considering there is no way the date will end in the same state it started, though, maybe no plan is the best plan. Just enjoy the ride.

Leviathan

Honestly lowkey thought that all those times they would play games together/watch marathons were dates so oof. Poor boy doesn’t even know how behind he is.

Once he’s aware that no, Mario Kart does not qualify as a date night, he will try to think of things that do but mostly still in or around the House.

He might suggest the kind of cheesy things he’s picked up from his mangas/dating games. He'll try them earnestly so it would still be a sweet time.

It’s going to take some insane “Love-Sex-Magic” to actually get this guy to plan a date that goes outside of his comfort zone (i.e. in the real world). He must be either head over heels or one of his brothers challenged him to pull it off. No matter what, it’s not going to be his first choice.

If he had to think of something, it would somehow be water-based because that’s the only other thing he’s going to cling to when he can’t be in his safe space.

A beach date would actually be perfect for him. He could show off his swimming skills, make a sand suclpture with them, and introduce them to Lotan! He won’t bite, er... as long as he’s around? Probably?

Satan

Want some old-fashioned romance? This is your guy. Satan sees love like it’s out of a romance novel so make of that what you will.

Ever polite and downright princely at times. You’d never know that he was the Avatar of Wrath until things just stop going to plan or some poor waiter tries to sass him...

The kind of guy to go for dates to an art gallery or an out-of-the-way coffee shop. Some place quiet where the main focus is on conversation or intellectual discussion. But, oh, he doesn’t just want to talk. He wants to learn and the subject is MC.

Won’t settle for small talk but isn’t looking for a life’s story either. He wants thoughts, opinions, and knowledge. What do they think of the Devildom? His brothers? How do things there compare to the human world? What’s it like there? Etc., etc.

If there is anything that they’re particularly skilled/knowledgeable in then he wants to know all about it. Lowkey sapiosexual vibes. Smarts are a turn on.

Would honestly be okay going to almost anywhere as long as he’s with them and can enjoy their conversation. Expect traditional romantic elements like flowers and candles, but really it’s the mind he’s after.

Asmodeus

He wants to Show. Them. Off! If they’re on a date then the world has to hear about it. He just thinks they’re that amazing!

Need help getting dressed for the occasion? He’s got them covered! He doesn’t see any issue in couples shopping, dressing, makeup… other things...

Yeah, they better keep a leash on this one or they may miss a reservation or three.

Knows all the best places in the Devildom like the back of his hand. Want to go dancing? He’s a regular at all the clubs. Want good drinks? He knows five places for that already. Great food? Babe, he’s second only to Beel in that department too!

Will spend the whole evening being very attentive and making sure they’re comfortable and having fun. The man loves seeing smiles, especially the ones he causes!

Okay. We all know where he ideally would like the date to end *cough*the bedroom*cough* but won’t pressure the matter… any more than usual. But oh would he be happy if it got there. And he’d make sure they’re happy too. 😏

Beelzebub

They’re going to eat and they’re going to eat WELL.

We’re talking a spread fit for royalty because he would totally ask Diavolo if he could borrow Barbatos for the evening. Food from the best chef in the Devildom and time alone with the MC for a night? Talk about a spot of heaven in literal Hell!

Of course, his thoughts aren’t only on his own stomach. He genuinely wants them to have a good time too.

Will probably take them to their favorite places in the Devildom or any places where they share good memories together. He wants to remind them of just how happy they make him as much as possible.

A lot of closeness the whole night: hand holding, hugs, and cuddles. It’s not for any possessive or territorial reason, he just likes having them close in that comforting sort of way.

He’s not exactly a deep conversationalist, but he’ll make up for it in actions and just the amount of heart he puts in the few things he says. Oh, he’s one of the best listeners on the planet though so the night doesn’t have to be quiet on their end.

Belphegor

You’d think he’d be too lazy to plan a date but not so. It actually takes a lot of planning to find a way to completely ditch his brothers without any of them knowing/finding out. Even Beel has to be out of the loop.

Wherever they’re going, he wants it to be just the two of them and stay that way. It’d take just one run in with Mammon or Asmo for them to gain a tag along that Just. Won’t. Leave.

Like Satan, he prefers quieter places but that’s just because he hates being in noisy environments. He’ll go for places that may not have a lot going on, but are visually quite stunning like the botanical gardens or rooftop views.

Expect a picnic, maybe a little stargazing. He probably already knows some pretty peaceful places in the Devildom that he uses just to get some space from his brothers.

If he’s going to sleep during the date, he’ll either make sure it’s okay first or it will be an honest accident. He won’t just pass out on them to be a troll for once.

Maaay try to get them to take a nap with him. Straight up sleeping might be considered an odd date activity, but really it’s an excuse to hold them as close as he wants with no interruptions. Be careful, or he might hold them there all night.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #the fluff is reaching critical mass

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slugtranslation-hypmic · 4 years

Note

What're your thoughts on everyone's MC names? Or maybe your ratings out of 10?

This is going to be a roasting session because I do not have high opinions of any of them.

Buster Bros - B.B., M. B., and L. B. These all get one bullet point because they are pretty much the same thing. Therefore their score will be cut into thirds for each Bro. Unfortunately, that score is not going to be high because the creativity level on this set of names is just about negative. A lot of the MC names are based on kanji readings or other things in Japanese that I’m sure I would find incredibly clever if I didn’t understand English. Unfortunately, I do, so characters named “First Son”, “Second Son”, and “Third Son” going by “Big Brother”, “Middle Brother”, and “Little Brother” utterly fail to impress me. Rating: 1 out of 10 (1/3 out of 10 for each)

Samatoki - Mr. Hardcore Oh, he’s trying. Samatoki feels like one of those people who tries so hard to prove how badass and tough he is while I’m loudly yelling from the sideline, “You’re doing great, sweetie! Tell your little friends we have Capri Suns and fruit snacks when you’re done with your playdate!” A perfect man child. Rating: Nemu’s secondhand embarrassment out of 10

Juuto - 45 Rabbit This one feels really impersonal. The 45 is from one of the Yokohama telephone area codes (afaik) and the rabbit is from the kanji for rabbit in his name. It doesn’t tell me anything about Juuto’s personality, though. I feel like MTC probably all had animal names once upon a time before they realized that “bush warbler” (Riou) and “horse” (Samatoki) aren’t exactly the most intimidating of titles. I mean... it’s okay. Could be worse. Rating: 4 out of 10

Riou - Crazy M This one confuses the hell out of me. Why, out of the entire cast, did they give the title “crazy” to the character who most strongly resembles a grandma? I also find it bizarre that they chose to honor the “M” from his middle name, but I think the writers at Hypmic are so titillated by the concept of middle names that they don’t know how to handle them responsibly. Rating: ??? out of 10

Ramuda - Easy R I really dislike this one for no good reason, but it does imply the existence of a “Hard R” which is very useful for making infantile jokes. Rating: 69 out of 10

Gentarou - Phantom This one isn’t bad. I think it’s a bit of an odd choice in English, but I completely understand where it comes from in Japanese. I’m assuming they wanted the word 幻影 which means an illusion or a vision. It fits with his whole theme and Fling Posse’s theme as a whole, so I’ll give it to them. Rating: 8 out of 10

Dice - Dead or Alive Outside of an 80′s British pop band, I have no idea what this name is supposed to make me think of. Perhaps it’s foreshadowing for the dark turn the FP storyline takes later on...? This is another odd one. I’d like to imagine that Dice and Riou came up with their MC names together while absolutely hammered, and when their teammates went, “Really?” they were at that point too hungover to think of anything better. Rating: ??? out of 10

Jakurai - illDoc When I was first doing the job interview for my current job a few years back, I had to listen as my now-boss, a white, old, upper-middle class, absolutely disillusioned about everything old codger, called himself “the OG” to my face. “It means Old Guy,” he told me. I smiled and nodded, because I wanted money, and in the meantime I wondered who the fuck called him an “original gangster” and then never properly explained what it meant. This is the exact same way I feel about this name, but Jakurai doesn’t pay me, so I can say whatever the hell I want about his tenuous grasp of slang. Rating: God no out of 10

Hifumi - GIGOLO Appropriately for Hifumi, I am of two minds about this. On the one hand, I hate it. On the other hand, Hifumi’s name is written as “1 2 3″ in kanji, and “jigoro” is pronounced as “4 5 6″, so that is very clever. Rating: 7 out of 8

Doppo - DOPPO I hate this one so much. I seriously wonder if this is a leftover relic from very early planning sessions where Gentarou was a part of Matenrou or something. (I say this because “Doppo” would be fine for an author character, as many classical authors are referred to by their given names. But it makes no sense for an office worker.) I have no idea what the point of this is. He didn’t even try. I headcanon that Hifumi wrote it down on their DRB entry forms as “Doppo-chin”, Doppo saw it last minute, and barely had the time to change it or come up with anything better. Rating: 0 out of 10

Sasara - Tragic Comedy This is a nice little reference to Sasara’s backstory and his inner monologue. It’s cute, if a little ham-fisted. Rating: 7 out of 10

Roshou - Wisdom Ugggggh. This is the most math teacher thing I have ever heard. I can imagine no less than three of my coworkers trying to choose some variation of this name if we were tasked to give ourselves MC names. He lives on teacher Facebook. I just know it. Rating: C- out of 10

Rei - Mastermind I think this is too on-the-nose to be clever, but I do really like the in-universe implications of him very casually calling himself that in public. Just throwing out to the world that he can make Chuuouku do whatever he wants. That’s a power move, and I respect that. Rating: 9 out of 10

Kuukou - Evil Monk Like Gentarou’s, I can tell what they were going for, but they kind of missed the mark in English. Kuukou is sometimes called a “bad monk”, but I think that’s more because he’s bad at being a monk in some respects (like not swearing every five minutes). It’s appropriately stupid for him, though, and I love it. Rating: 10 out of 10

Juushi - 14th Moon Someone really likes the number 14, huh. Rating: 14 out of 100

Hitoya - Heaven & Hell This is literally his name. He stuck an “and” between his surname and his given name and called it a day. Are you kidding me? I know lawyers are too busy to waste a lot of time on shit, but come on. You did not even try. This is so lazy it doesn’t even deserve a rating.

#not a translation #asks

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dhwty-writes · 3 years

Text

A Touchy One

Is this incredibly self-indulgent? Yes. Am I posting this anyways? Also yes! I dug this up somewhere in my WIP folder and decided this deserves to be finished.

This is the first thing I've posted in forever, and I know (and am sorry) that it's no OWBABH update (that will come, too, I promise), but take this in the meantime. I am finally feeling like writing again, so here's to hoping I won't take as long next time. Have fun reading!

Summary: The bard is a touchy one, which is an odd travel companion to have, especially for a witcher. It isn't that Geralt minds so much as that he startled terribly the first time it happened.

Or: how two people, who do not like being touched learn to enjoy each other's closeness, featuring a sex-repulsed Jaskier and our resident grumpy witcher.

Warnings: none, as far as I’m aware

Read on AO3

The bard is a touchy one, which is an odd travel companion to have, especially for a witcher. It isn't that Geralt minds so much as that he startled terribly the first time it happened.

It has been scarcely more than a brush of his fingertips across his forearm, but still Geralt did jump and scoot away as if burned. He even faintly remembers growling quietly, although he's not quite sure if that was a later addition of his mind. He distinctly remembers the surprised, and slightly hurt expression on Jaskier's face, though.

After that, there has been no touching for quite some time. Until one night, when Geralt returned from a contract too tired to rid himself of his armour and simply flopped face down onto the bed in the inn they were staying at. Jaskier drew close, hesitantly hovering at his side, one hand extended. "May I?" he asked quietly.

The bard patiently waited for his grunt of approval, before hauling him upright, deftly unbuckling his armour and putting it away. Geralt was half asleep during the whole process, leaning his forehead against Jaskier's shoulder, while fighting the urge to pull him close.

The bard is a touchy one, and although that seemed odd and startled Geralt in the beginning, it now is the most natural thing in the world. Because the thing is, the bard isn't necessarily a touchy one. He is a spacey one. Comes with the profession, he guesses.

Wherever Jaskier goes, he brings a stage with him, announcing his presence with loud songs and colours as well as grand gestures, uncaring for other people's opinions. It is only natural, that with every other spread of his arms he brushes against someone. And it's also mostly natural that, as his travelling companion, those touches mostly reach Geralt.

Just as natural as touching him in return. In fact, it is the most natural thing in the world. There is seldom a moment when the bard isn't touching him, be it a hand on his forearm, an elbow nudging his side, or his dirty feet in his lap. And it isn't as if the bard is the only one to initiate that kind of intimacy. Geralt delights in throwing an arm around his friend's shoulder, steadying him with a reassuring hand on his back after he had too much to drink, or wrestling him into a river. He especially delights in waking up cuddled close to his bard, their limbs and scents intertwining, both of them too lazy to start the day.

He can't remember when that had started, if he's quite honest. He thinks it was maybe five years after they first met, that they arrived at an inn tired and battered, as well as soaking wet from the thunderstorm outside only to discover that there was only one bed left.

After tucking the witcher into bed, the bard threatened to slip from his grasp. "Jaskier," Geralt slurred after a failed attempt to grab his wrist.

"Yes, dear witcher?"

"C'me 'ere." Geralt doesn't quite remember the motion accompanied by his words, too much asleep for that already, but according to Jaskier he made 'grabby hands'. Despite that embarrassing escapade, the bard beamed and indulged him, slipping into the single bed next to him and cradling him tight to his chest. Geralt never slept so soundly in his entire life.

He thought that he would mind, if he is honest. He never liked anyone invading his space before, and Jaskier is nothing if not invading. It took them a bit to establish some boundaries, to find out what made the other snarl and pull back or vanish come morning. Geralt doesn't like his potions to be messed with and Jaskier is very protective of his notebook. Geralt prefers to be cuddled instead of doing the cuddling part and Jaskier allows no hands from his hips to his knees, although he doesn't mind waking up with Geralt draped over him from chest to toe.

Other taboos soon soften until they are abandoned completely. Like the bag-sharing ban, for example, or clothes. In the first few months of cuddles and touches, Jaskier enacted his strict shirts-and-pants-required-policy with vigour, only to be the one to ultimately forego it. Geralt still smiles at the memory.

It was an especially hot summer, maybe a decade into their acquaintance and Geralt just wrestled the bard into a clear creek. They were sodding wet, Jaskier huffing indignantly, in nothing but their smallclothes, too lazy to dry off if the sun was about to do the work anyways. Seeing him standing there, shaking his wet hair, his hands on his hips, did something funny to Geralt's stomach. As if it dropped and lifted at the same time.

Before knew what he was doing, he tossed Jaskier his clothes. "Get dressed," he ordered gruffly and spread his arms, "and come here."

Jaskier looked at the garments in his hands and sneered. "Oh, fuck no," he spat out. "You want a hug, Geralt of Rivia?" He threw the dirty clothes back at him and spread his arms. "Come and get it."

Geralt let them hit him. Although that also might have been the shock of Jaskier so readily abolishing his most adamant requirement. "You sure?"

"Yes, I'm bloody sure, you daft witcher. Now come here before I dry and start melting again."

Geralt has never been so quick to comply to a request. He lunged to tackle Jaskier to the ground, happily sprawling across him until they were both sweaty again. He was shoved off unceremoniously and then coerced into another bath in the river.

That night they didn't bother to get dressed either. Not when setting up their camp next to the creek, not when Jaskier got out his lute, not when Geralt started cooking their dinner. Certainly not when going to sleep.

Maybe it ought to feel weird. It's a weird thing to embrace your friend like a lover, is it not? It didn't, though. It doesn't. In fact, it feels like most natural thing in the world.

The bard is a touchy one. But that is not the reason why he is odd. The reason why he is odd, is his reaction to being touched in turn. He often startles and pulls away, just like Geralt has.

They are lying in bed one evening, entangled like they always are, Jaskier on Geralt's chest (the bard insisted they swap for once), Geralt carding his fingers through his bard's hair. There was a performance, earlier that day, and Jaskier made the acquaintance of a nice-looking gentleman. Geralt resigned himself already to the fact that he would go to bed alone that night.

But then, the man reached out to place a hand on Jaskier's knee. The bard froze up and a moment later he was plastered against his witcher's side, insisting they go to bed. It is a strange behaviour, although not the first time he has seen Jaskier react that way. The question burns on his tongue and, of course, Jaskier notices.

"What is it?"

Geralt tenses beneath him. Fifteen years and still not brave enough to ask. "Hm."

"Don't be daft," the bard chides, "we both know something's on your mind. Out with it."

There's no evading a determined bard, Geralt discovered that a long time ago. "You... don't like to be touched," he notices. Which is an odd thing to say to the half-naked man sprawled across his chest, with his ankles hooked around his calves. But they are odd people and an odd pair, so that's neither here nor there.

He is quiet for a long time. Such a long time, in fact, that Geralt feels the need to check with a quiet "Jaskier?" if he hasn't fallen asleep.

"Hm," the bard replies quietly. "That's not strictly true."

"Not strictly untrue either."

Jaskier sighs with a resignation of a man who knows he cannot hide, but doesn't particularly want too either. Still, it takes him a long time to reply: "I don't mind the touching. I... am not a great fan of what comes after."

Geralt freezes, his fingers tangled in Jaskier's hair, trying and failing to decipher that statement. "What comes after?"

"Oh, you know..." Jaskier makes a very illustrative gesture.

"Ah." Yes, he knows what comes after. He is, in fact, a great fan of what comes after. "You mean you don't like men?"

"Oh no, don't get me wrong. I like men and women well enough, just... not in my bed."

He frowns and looks down again at the man sprawled across his chest who must surely notice his heart beating rapidly. "Jaskier..."

"Hm?"

"I'm in your bed."

"Yes, I know, but that's different. I don't like them naked in my bed."

"Jaskier," he says again, glancing down at their almost naked bodies pressed together.

"Oh, shut up, you great oaf," he hisses and grins. "You know what I mean. And you're... different."

"Hm. Why?"

"I don't know." Jaskier sighs and pushes his hair out of his face. "You just are. Never tried to shove your dick into me, for starters. Or tried to coax me to shove my dick into you."

He shrugs. "Never thought you'd be interested."

"I'm not. Are you?"

He shrugs again. "Does it matter, if you aren't?"

"I guess it doesn't. Still, are you?"

"Jaskier," he chides softly and does his best not to squirm under his inquisitive gaze. But the bard is unrelenting. Geralt sighs and raises his eyebrows as he answers. "You... are a very attractive man. I would gladly suck your cock, or let you suck mine, if you were so inclined. Seeing as you aren't... I would rather refrain from it, if it's all the same to you." He smiled and splayed his fingers over Jaskier's shoulder. "I assure you, not the most proficient cocksucking in the world could grant me greater bliss than I am in right now. There is nothing in the world that could persuade me to give up what we have, especially not something as insignificant as a roll in the hay."

"Oh." Jaskier's shoulders sag and for a moment Geralt fears he's said something wrong. But then a bright smile spreads on his bard's face that is mirrored by his own a moment later. "That's a relief. And thank you. I guess."

Geralt snorts, amused. "You're welcome." After a moment of silence, he adds: "Jaskier? You're different for me, too."

"I am?" The bard beams at him. "How so?"

He has to be exhausted. Or drunk. Or both. There is no other explanation for the next words that leave his mouth. "Because I love you," he hears himself say, to his own mortification.

But Jaskier just smiles and closes his eyes. "Oh," he breathes and languidly squirms closer, like a cat basking in the sun. Then, after a mortifying moment that feels like an eternity, with Geralt's heart thundering in his chest, he replies: "I love you, too, Geralt of Rivia."

He breathes out, relieved, and opts for holding his bard tighter. That's always a good option. It just feels right to share their space and share their silence. Natural.

He's not sure how long the quiet lasts before, for once, he's the one to break it: "Are we lovers?" Geralt asks suddenly, the question that has been occupying his mind for the past few minutes.

Jaskier sleepily blinks up at him. "Do you want us to be? I'm sure you could find a person better—"

"No, I don't think so," he interrupts him without hesitating.

Jaskier smiles again and it's a sweet expression, one that makes his heart speed up and his face go soft. "If we were lovers, Geralt...," he says after a while, "what would that mean for us?"

"You mean, what would change?"

"Yes."

"Hm." He gives him a long glance. "You said you are averse to naked people in your bed."

"I am," Jaskier confirms.

"Are you also averse to clothed people kissing you?"

Geralt feels stupid while asking it. Apparently, it is very stupid, for Jaskier immediately starts laughing. "No, my dear," he replies after having calmed down, "I am not averse to clothed people kissing me."

"In that case, I would like to kiss you from time to time."

"Like when?" Jaskier props himself up on an elbow and his lips curl into a different smile, one that's more teasing, more flirtatious than the soft expression before.

"Like now," he says before he can change his mind.

Jaskier hums and reaches out slowly, so that he cups Geralt's face with his hand, tracing his cheekbone with his thumb. Then, he leans in, just as slowly, and presses his lips to the witcher's in a sweet kiss.

"Good?" Geralt asks when he pulls away.

"Good," Jaskier confirms.

"Good." He allows himself to smile as well, bright and unguarded like his bard taught him, and pulls him against his chest again. Once they're settled, he says, feeling a little silly: "I suppose I would also like a love poem or two, master poet."

"Oh, Geralt." Jaskier smooths a hand down his side and feels around until he finds Geralt's hand and can interlace their fingers. "Are you so daft as not to realise that each and every one of my poems for you's a love poem?" he mumbles and presses a kiss to his knuckles.

Warmth spreads in his chest again and he smiles. "I had hoped," he replies and returns the gesture, "but I did not dare to presume." After a moment he adds: "Thank you."

"Always, love," Jaskier replies. "Now go to sleep. I'm knackered."

Feeling relieved and relaxed, holding his bard—his lover!— close, Geralt does.

The bard is a touchy one. And an odd one, although not for his relationship to touches. He's an odd one for loving a witcher. But said witcher is an odd and touchy one as well, so it's alright. In fact, it is the most natural thing in the world.

#my writing #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geraskier fanfiction #the witcher fanfiction #geraltxjaskier #geralt/jaskier

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all-my-love-for-harry · 4 years

Text

Puppy love.

summary: Harry finally makes his lover’s wishes come true when they adopt a dog together.

word count: 2.2k

based on this request:

“please could you write a cute domestic puppy piece? Maybe just lazy day / taking their pup for a walk 🥺 and maybe y/n is pregnant and the puppy is super protective”

a/n: send me more ideas pls, i’m in a writing mood but idk what to write haha

you can find the rest of my masterlist here.

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

Usually when people decide to adopt a dog, they’re always secretly looking for a puppy, thinking it’d be easier to handle rather than an older dog. It was quite sad, to be honest. There were dozens, if not hundreds of animals looking for a home, waiting to be adopted and it wasn’t fair people ignored big dogs with the excuse that they could be aggressive. Well, at least it to Y/N, it wasn’t fair. A dog was something she’s been wanting for a while. And was also the one thing Harry has been unable to give her. Tight schedules, interviews, traveling and touring were a few reasons why they haven’t adopted a pet, leaving it as the only desire Y/N had that Harry was yet to fulfill.

But today was the day. Y/N has finally convinced Harry and they were on their way to the shelter, ready to meet as many dogs as they could with the hope of finding the one. She wasn’t looking for anything in specific, telling herself she’d go with an open mind.

“We can take one, love.” Harry remained her when they went out of the car, intertwining their fingers as they walked inside of the building. He knew the moment they walked in, his girlfriend would be bawling her eyes out because she can’t take every single one of the dogs home with them.

“This is the best day of my life.” She whispered in excitement and Harry chuckled at the way her eyes light up.

“Oh, evening. What can I do for you?” A middle aged woman spoke from behind her desk, offering them a friendly smile while pushing her glasses.

“We’re here to—”

“We’d like to adopt.” Y/N interrupted him, squeezing his hand.

The woman’s smile grew bigger as she stood up from her chair, taking a set of keys from her desk. “Alright. Follow me, please.” She gestured the door that was a couple of steps from where they were standing and started walking, Harry and Y/N just behind her. “Are you looking for anything specific?”

“No. We, uh, we’d like to look around for a bit, if that’s okay.” Harry said.

“That’s fine, you can take your time.” She smiled at them then opened the door, revealing dozens of dogs in every color and every size. The animals started barking and jumping in their places. Y/N’s eyes filled with instant tears when she saw they had them in cages.

She sniffed and Harry looked down at her, concerned. He furrowed his eyebrows then squeezed her hand, trying to soothe her. “Thank you.” He said to the woman before passing through her and entered the room. For a moment he felt slightly overwhelmed for all the barking and noise the dogs were making, but he quickly recovered when Y/N let go of his hand to kneel in front of a Pomeranian. “He’s cute.”

“His name is Barry, oh my god.” She practically squealed as she read the little card that was attached to the dog’s cage. “Harryyy.” Y/N practically dragged the words, too excited to care.

“He arrived last month.” The woman commented from behind.

“Hi, baby. What a good boy”

Harry started to walk around the room, observing a few dogs himself. He was obviously going to let her pick their new pet, being okay with whatever she desired. But look around wouldn’t hurt either. They spent a little time apart, but Harry was still able to hear Y/N’s squeals as well as his name being called at least a hundred times whenever she knelt in front of another dog.

He smiled as small Chihuahua started barking at him. The little fella was so small it could easily fit on Harry’s big hand, and he knew his baby would love it so he called for her.

“You like this one?” She asked, smiling at the dog. “Her name’s Pippa. Oh my god, who picks their names? I’m gonna cry.”

“A few volunteers like to name them. They come a few times a week.”

Y/N nodded at the woman, returning her vision at Harry. “What do you say?”

“I don’t know. You choose, baby.” He smiled sweetly at her.

“Okay. Come see this one, I was just with him when you called me.” She took his hand in hers and pulled from him gently. Harry let her lead him to whatever part of the room she previously was and his eyes winded when he saw a beautiful Siberian husky laying on the floor.

The dog itself looked majestic in his opinion. It was a big ball of fur with a pair of beautiful, crystal blue eyes that were looking directly at him. “His name’s Thor. He’s so adorable, isn’t he?”

“Ah, I see you found Thor. Poor thing’s been looking for a home for quite some time now. A few people come by and see him but never adopt him.”

“Why wouldn’t someone want him?”

“Big dogs aren’t always practical, Sir.”

Harry pouted unconsciously. “I know he’s large, but look at him.” His girlfriend made puppy eyes at him, and he could tell she was trying to hold it together after hearing no one wanted to adopt Thor.

“He’s perfect.” He turned to the woman. “We’d like to take him with us, please.”

“You don’t want to discuss it first?”

“No need. He’s the one.” The green eyed man said confidently.

Thor might look like a whole ass wolf, but in reality he was the biggest softie you’d ever met in your life. In the ride back home, Y/N sat in the back of the car with him, and the dog immediately put his head on her lap, its tail never stopped moving as she scratched its ears. Being almost 2ft, Thor occupied pretty much the whole backseat, leaving Y/N squeezed by the window, not that she minded.

“How are we feeling, uh?” Harry asked after a while.

“He’s perfect. Do you think we have everything we need at home for him? I want him to be comfortable.”

Yesterday they had gone on a trip to the store to buy everything they thought they might need to welcome their new pet into their home. Two bowls for water and food, a couple of collars and leashes to take him out, every toy the store had available and a bed.

The only thing they were lacking was dog food, but it was because they didn’t know which dog they’d take from the shelter and didn’t want to buy the wrong one.

“We can make a quick stop at the store for food, it’s on the way home.”

Y/N smiled, sighing happily while leaning down to hug Thor. She got lost on all its fur, nuzzling him gently. She had read stories about how dogs from shelters often tended to act aggressively at first, as they probably had a bad life before, but she was glad Thor wasn’t like that.

“Thor, come right here!”

The large dog ran outside the house and towards Y/N, thinking he was being summoned to play in the backyard, but was met with its owner standing next to a massive whole in the ground, where Y/N’s freshly planted daisies were supposed to be.

“Jesus Christ, look at you!” She exclaimed. Thor’s white fur was now brown because of all of the dirt he played with. “Daddy gave you a shower yesterday.”

At hearing the word ‘daddy’, Thor started jumping around while barking happily, starting to run around in look for Harry. Suddenly, Y/N wasn’t mad at him anymore for destroying her garden, instead, her heart melted at how adorable he was.

Yeah, Thor could dig a hole in the ground whenever he wanted and he could send all her flowers flying if that’s what made him happy.

Today but six months ago, Harry and Y/N were on their way to the nearest shelter to finally adopt a pet together, not knowing Thor would be entering their life with its chaotic personality and its big heart, changing their life forever. Having a dog together definitely made the couple closer and stronger, as Thor basically became their child.

They celebrated with a day out. The couple took Thor to the dog park, playing with him for hours. The big husky loved to chase Harry around until the both of them were in the ground, the dog lapping his face happily. Sometimes Thor forgets its size and acted like a baby, practically begging Harry to lift him and carry him around.

There were several pictures the next day of them at the park, and the fans were collapsing over the content of Harry with Thor. Y/N thought one specific picture of the three of them walking down the street and back to their car looked so cute that she had to post it with the caption ‘six’, again making everyone die out of love.

One of the things Harry did first thing in the morning was go for a run. Now, before he used to go alone, as he always let Y/N sleep a little longer, but now he had an exercise buddy to take in as many runs he wanted. They were usually out for an hour or so, and when they were back, Thor always went straight to his water bowl first then to his bed to take a nap. However, after he hydrated, he went straight upstairs to the master bedroom.

Harry followed him upstairs, seeing with a smile how the dog jumped on the bed and cuddled with Y/N. Thor was a cuddler, it was no secret, so he going with her wasn’t a surprise for Harry. It was only when Harry sat down beside them and Thor started whining that the man grew confused. Thor put its head on top of Y/N’s stomach, looking at Harry.

“What’s wrong, mate?” He asked as he extended his arm to scratch the dog’s head.

Y/N started moving, fluttering her eyes open and smiling softly when her vision caught her favorite boys there. “Morning.”

“Morning, precious.” Harry smiled. “Just came back from out run.”

“Have you showered yet?” He shocks his head. “Then go, I’ll start breakfast.” She leaned towards him to kiss his check before standing up. “How do you feel about banana pancakes?”

“Sounds delicious.”

Y/N walked out of the room with Thor right behind her. Harry shrugged off Thor’s previously odd behavior and went to take a shower. After he was done, he went downstairs and to the kitchen where he found his girlfriend flipping some pancakes with Thor laying closely by her feet.

Thor’s odd behavior continued for a few days, always wanting to be as close as possible to Y/N and nearly panicking whenever she left his sight. He’d lay by her feet or on her lap if she was on the couch, and he’d follow her around like her personal bodyguard if she was on the move.

At first it was quite adorable, but then Thor started whining whenever Harry wanted to come closer, not allowing him to cuddle with Y/N.

In the seventh day, Y/N started to feel sick, she’d wake up and throw up first thing in the morning. They thought it was just something she ate, thinking it would go away in a few days. But then she started to throw up more and more and Harry started panicking, so they went to the doctor.

“We’ll run a few tests to find out what’s wrong, including a pregnancy one.”

“P-pregnancy?” Harry shuttered.

“I’m not pregnant, doctor.” Y/N assured.

“We might as well be sure.”

The results arrived in just half an hour, but it surely felt like an eternity. Harry couldn’t stop thinking about the pregnancy test. He’d be lying if he said a part of him was excited to know whether he has created a new life with the love of his life or not, but he didn’t want to get his hopes too high. And the other part of him was terrified of the possibility of Y/N being pregnant.

When they were finally back with the doctor, Harry held Y/N’s hand and squeezed it tightly. She looked at him and he gave her a smile, assuring her that no matter what the results said, they’d be fine.

“Congratulations, you’ll be parents.” The doctor lifted her head from the papers, offering the both of them a gentle smile. “You’re three months pregnant, what explains the morning sickness you’ve been experiencing.”

Harry sat there in shock, the fact that he was actually going to be a father finally hitting him. “I’m gonna be a dad.” He whispered. His head snapped up, his eyes looking for Y/N’s. “You’re gonna be a mum.”

Y/n choked a sob, standing from her place at the same time as Harry and hugged him tightly. He pulled her closer to his chest as he kissed the top of her head, a few tears rolling down from his eyes.

“I guess I’m having your baby, eh?” Now it was Harry’s turn to choke a sob, barely able to speak due all the emotions he was feeling right now.

“Can you believe Thor knew first?” Harry said when they were finally inside of their car again, ready to drive back home.

“What do you mean?”

“Dogs can tell if a woman is pregnant.” He said. “And that would explain why he behaved like he did.”

“Like what?”

“He panicked whenever you weren’t in the room, always followed you around. He even waited for you outside of the bathroom!”

“He just loves me more than he loves you.” She joked.

“Yeah, but he will love our baby even more.”

Our baby.

Didn’t sound that bad, didn’t it?

#harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluffy imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic

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cyllaeth · 3 years

Text

when i’m at home

“... And she just came by the station and brought us coffee!”, Eddie grimaces, trying not to grit his teeth.

“Isn't it a nice gesture?”, Adriana asks; there's hint of amusement in her voice and she's not even trying to hide it. It's late evening; her kids are already in bed and so is Christopher which allows her to talk with her brother for a while. It's kinda their tradition—every few days they call each other—mostly via Skype—to catch up and check if everything's alright. She really enjoys it; the Diaz siblings has always been pretty close no matter how far away they have lived.

“It is. It's just... Why was she even at the station? I thought there's nothing between them. Not after that disaster of a date”, Eddie sighs. Seeing Buck chatting and laughing with Taylor Kelly at the end of their shift really put him in a bad mood. He still doesn't trust her especially around his best friend. He just knows that redhead reporter isn't the right person for Buck. Who repeatedly said he wants a serious relationship, not just a meaningless hookup.

And yet, he's still seeing her. It bothers Eddie so much he spilled out about it when Adriana asked what's up. He thought that it might help him calm down but he feels like he's just more angry than he has been earlier.

“Maybe they're just friends.”, Adriana suggests after a few moments of silence between them. She eyes him suspiciously. “Isn't it what Buck said anyway? That they're better off being friends?”

“Then why was she flirting with him for the whole she was there? Why did she bring him his favourite coffee?”. It's very clear that Eddie's annoyed that his sister isn't throwing insults at Buckley's not-so-new female friend.

“You flirt with him all the time and nobody says anything.”

Eddie freezes.

After what it feels like hours, he looks up at his sister. She has that odd, annoying smug on her face like she knows she's absolutely right and he has sudden urge to wipe it off. She just waits patiently for him to catch up what she said.

“I... What now?”

“You flirt with him all the time. And everyone is fine with it.”, she repeats very loud and clear.

“I don't”, Eddie scoffs. Has she gone mad and he hasn't noticed? He doesn't flirt with Buck, they're just best friends. They joke and bicker quite often but that's it. There's only friendly, platonic banter.

“Have you ever considered you might be in love with Buck?”, Adriana asks. Her question is serious even though Eddie sees the mischief in her eyes.

“Don't you think I would've noticed that I'm in love with my best friend?”, he answers with another question.

He really believes in that. He's been in love once in his life and it was Shannon. And he was definitely aware of his feelings. He still remembers first nervous glances, shy smiles and stuttering. He remembers first touches and kisses and how he had felt butterflies in his stomach. He also recalls their arguments, make-up sex and tears when they'd been hurting each other. Even when Shannon had re-appeared in his life, he was fully aware he still loved her. So if he did love Evan, he'd know. He thinks. He's so lost in thoughts, he doesn't hear his sister's rambling.

“Edmundo!”, she practically yells at him to bring back his attention. It seems to be working so she decides to share her honest opinion. “Eddie, we've been talking for almost an hour now, you had a date with Ana—like yesterday—and you didn't say a word about it. We're only talking about Buck. You're so pissed off because you saw him again with the girl he'd hooked up with in the past. And for me it's pretty telling. You're jealous.”

There's a silence on Eddie's side of the screen. In fact, he's utterly speechless. Adriana's words are ringing in his ears like a fucking bell. Jealous. Is is really jealousy what's been eating him since his friend had reconnected with Taylor?

“Look”, his sister bites her lip as if she's not sure if she should go on. Eventually, she does. “I'm not laughing or mocking you. I love you and I want everything what's best for you. I know you've had a rough couple of years dealing with all that shit with our parents, Shannon dying, tsunami and pandemic and yet, I've never seen you happier. You literally light up when you talk about Chris and Buck. You mention him all the time. You've never trusted Shannon the way you trust Buck with Chris and she was his mother. You two practically live together—last time we talked he was tucking Chris in after he spend the whole afternoon cooking dinner and watching movies with you two. It's something I do with my husband, not with my friends even if I love them. I've only seen glimpses of your life and I'm pretty sure you two love each other.”

Eddie listens. He pays attention to every word that coming out from Addie's mouth. It's hard to admit it but she's right. Buck has stopped being only a guest in his house a long time ago. Lately he's here almost all the time—either babysitting Chris while Eddie's on a date with Ana or just hanging out with the two of them because he doesn't feel comfortable in his own apartment. The thing is, Eddie likes having him around. He enjoys lazy mornings that smell like Buck's famous pancakes and coffee made by Hildy (Buck still teases him about it); he's also very fond of all evenings filled with laughter when they accidentally fall asleep on the couch and wake up in the middle of the night tangled up together. Being this close has never been awkward to them. At this point—Eddie realises—it's more awkward when there's an actual space between them. And, of course, he notices how attractive his friend is. He must've been blind not to see it. It's not like he's the only one who knows that Buck's eyes look like the cloudless sky in the middle of the summer when he's happy and get so dark they look like an stormy ocean, right?

He freezes again for a moment.

“Addie, I'm a little too old to have a sexuality crisis, don't you think?”, he asks but Adriana only laughs. He's not even offended by it because it's kinda hilarious. He would've laughed if somebody told him that he's gonna question his sexuality because of something his sister had said. “What if... What about our family? Parents?”

“You mean if you two get together?” Eddie nods. “I don't think you need to worry about it”, Adriana smiles brightly. “Our mom's wondering—and I quote—when will Edmundo bring back to El Paso that charming friend of his?”

“And so are we!”, Sophia chimes in, appearing suddenly behind Adriana.

“Dios Mío, have you been here the whole time?” Eddie groans when he sees both of his sisters grinning. He's royally fucked now. He knows them well and he's sure they won't forget about anything he has said tonight and will tease him mercilessly. There's a reason why Buck instantly hit it off when he met Diaz sisters. Sophia only nods and winks at him before she disappears again.

“Aunt Pepa loves him and don't even get me started with Abuela. Buck's her favourite grandchild, she gave him half of her secret recipes and he's not even officially Diaz yet!”, Adriana exclaims, pretending to be offended. Then, she adds. “And you certainly don't have to worry about Christopher. The kid loves Buck more than anyone. I'm not even sure if you're still his favourite adult.”

Eddie glares at her but there's a smile on his lips. He's not even slightly surprised that his son adores Buck so much. Honestly, Evan Buckley is his favourite adult too.

—☾—

Adriana's words are still stuck in his head days later when he's at home after another long, exhausting shift. Christopher is already here, doing his homework and Buck—Buck is here too. They're in the kitchen, preparing dinner together. Or it's rather Buck cooking and Eddie trying to steal food.

“Hey, quit snacking and cut the vegetables”, Buck orders and Eddie can't help but smile.

“I love you”, he blurts out. He didn't even think about it, it just escaped from his mouth.

It's Buck's turn to freeze.

Eddie looks at him and realises what he said. He's not panicking; he just feels happy, perfectly comfortable. At peace.

“I love you”, he says it again and suddenly he's in Buck's space. He just leans in and kisses him. Buck's definitely surprised but he only needs a moment to catch up what's going on. He responds very eagerly and kisses him back.

Eddie thinks it's a wonderful feeling. Now he knows that sometimes love doesn't hit like a wave, rapidly and intensively. Sometimes it just sneaks up quietly and patiently, like a river, taking piece by piece. He doesn't mind it.

“You're still cutting vegetables”, Buck says when they break apart. His eyes are full of joy and he's grinning—and Eddie wants to see him like this everyday. “And for the record, I love you too, Diaz.”

Eddie sends Adriana you were right hours later when he's already in bed, Buck curled up next to him. She responds almost immediately I know and he just smiles again.

—☾—

Link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30453828

(Title stolen shamelessly from band called The Maine, I highly recommend listen to that song, it fits Buddie so much ✨

#911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #buck x eddie #911 fic #buddie fic #lucy writes #lucy's attempt to write #no beta we die like doug #in this house we stan diaz sisters #adriana and sophia are national treasure #just like christopher #it's shitty #i know i know #buddie drabble

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lysmune · 3 years

Text

Twins

You spend your day with Beelzebub, your night with Belphegor.

For the twins’ 2021 birthday. Fluff. Cute stuff for once. Time and memos. Attic Sandwich.

i: 8:00AM

A tangerine sticky note on the fridge. He recognises that handwriting anywhere.

‘Happy birthday, Beel! There’s cake on the top shelf of the fridge and everything on the third shelf is yours. I hope you like the food, and here’s to a fulfilling breakfast.’

It ends with a few hearts and a smiley face, and it makes him grin. He opens the fridge to find an array of delights: rice balls stuffed with salmon; pastrami (He thinks that’s what they’re called) sandwiches piled high; Madam Scream’s macarons; a generous bowl of cold noodles, whose toppings have been neatly packed into individual lunch boxes, and the chocolate roll cake that tops it all, stuffed to the brim with chocolate cream and decorated with fresh strawberries.

All of this must’ve taken hours of preparation, and he smiles, touched by the amount of care, by the fact that you’ve thought of him.

In return, he sits down and slowly, taking his time, savours all the food you’ve cooked for him.

ii: 9:00 AM

Dressed in a new top and cargo pants, you kiss his cheek and wish him happy birthday in greeting before he responds by nuzzling your neck, arms wrapping around you, picking you up with ease and spinning you in a small circle.

“Thanks for the breakfast,” he beams as he settles you down on your feet, though he never quite lets you go, pecking the edge of your lips quickly. “Going anywhere special?”

You grin. “Anywhere you want today, Beel.”

iii: 1:00 PM

Wherever he goes, you follow, hand in hand as you both stroll through Devildom with amicable chatter and many, many stops. The homeware stores are what catch his attention and he leads you into them pretty frequently, perusing the blankets, the plushies, the pyjamas, particularly fixated on the bear-patterned ones.

“They’re for Belphie,” he clarifies, and he asks for your opinion, asks if you find anything that his twin might adore. It’s the lapis-dyed blanket, soft to the touch and patterned with polar bears and dots, that you pick out and Beel, without a second thought, without a question, purchases it. He apologises for dragging you through the process, but you squeeze his hand tighter in reassurance.

“You’re sweet, Beel,” and he blushes crimson to the tips of his ears, smiling gently before he presses his lips to your cheek.

With a slight tug, he pulls the both of you into the fluorescent-lit streets and you realise that he isn’t walking as fast as usual when he drops to your side.

iv: 3:00 PM

“You’re not hungry, Beel?” you ask as he pops open a soda and he cocks his head to the side. “You didn’t eat lunch.”

Oh. Now that I think about it. He supposes he hasn’t, which is just as surprising to him as it is to you; he’s never skipped a meal, not even by accident. He should be famished, on all accounts, but he’s strangely full. Maybe it’s because he’s had his sights wholly on you the entire day.

“Do you want me to make you something?” you ask, to which he shakes his head, extending his hand out instead. You take it and he, making sure to be careful, pulls you to him, and he watches your brow crease with worry. “You okay?”

“I’m okay,” he assures. This close, he smells you, sweet and honeyed, and he finds himself eyeing your lips. “Can I ...?”

Laughter spills, then, “Of course.”

Leaning forward, he captures you in a kiss, his hands resting on your waist while you clasp yours behind his neck. Orange on the tip of his tongue, the taste of bittersweet chocolate and coffee, and you, and it’s enough to make him feel a little warmer, a little light headed. For a moment, he pulls away to let you breathe before he returns for a second one, this time a little rougher, fingers hovering up and down your sides. He hums into your mouth, delighted as you tug and card through his hair, and he has to remind himself to be softer when he holds you closer, bodies flushed, bereft of distance.

He lets himself linger when he breaks it off, your swollen lips barely touching his, your forehead against his as you let your palms rest on his chest, cheeks dusted red, the heat of it all near unbearable. So beautiful and he can’t help but kiss you again, light and brief this time, before he loosens his grip on you.

“I like you,” he finds himself confessing as he gazes at you, raising his hand to your cheek. “I like you a lot.”

“I like you, too, Beel,” you reply as you thumb a peck into his palm, pressing closer.

”I’m glad,” he replies, his voice soft, the sound of his heart loud in his ear. “I feel full whenever I'm with you, and you always make me really happy.”

v: 4:00 PM

A pillow covered in white fluff with a pair of bear ears sewn onto two of the tips and a pompom for a tail, a violet sticky note tacked atop its head. Belphegor wants to laugh at the gift you’ve left for him, but he squeezes it to his chest instead, cuddling it.

The stitch work isn’t perfect, he can tell. Ears lopsided, frayed bits of thread, meandering seams, and when the odd, perfect sew catches his eye, he’s sure it’s Asmo’s handiwork, not yours; he chuckles at the thought.

Plucking the note, he leans back against his bed and reads it.

‘Hey, Belphie, happy birthday! I’m not the best at sewing, but I hope you like the bear pillow. Here’s to even sweeter dreams.’

A heart and a few stars scrawled at the end, Belphegor can’t help but smile before he sticks your note on the wall beside him.

vi: 6:00 PM

With a plate of today’s dinner in your hand, you knock on the twins’ door, calling out to him before you take a step back. You’re surprised when he greets you almost immediately, something he doesn’t do that often, considering his sleeping habits.

“Took you long enough,” he huffs as he grabs your hand and leads you into the room.

“I was grabbing you dinner,” you point out, setting the plate down on the table beside his armchair. “Did I miss something?”

He shakes his head, a mischievous smile curving his lips. “Nope, I just wanted to see you.”

Leaning forward, he presses a quick kiss onto the top of your cheekbone before he sinks into the chair, dragging it closer as motioning for you to sit on his bed, reaching for his meal once he’s settled.

“Did you have a good day with Beel?” he asks, eyes sparkling once he takes in the sight of sushi before him; you chuckle. Sure it’d been a little pricey, like most human world foods that Akuzon stocks, but you figure you could always make an exception for his birthday.

“I did,” you answer as he stuffs an ebi nigiri into his mouth, chewing.

He swallows, then, “Good, then you’re mine for the rest of the night, yes?”

“Yep.”

He hums in approval. “Great. Give me a minute and we can have a little fun.”

vii: 8:00 PM

Belphegor ends up taking longer than you anticipated, though you’re not complaining, seeing as he’s striking up conversation most of time, whether that be about your outing with Beelzebub today or how you’re feeling, in general.

“Did Beel give you his gift?” you ask while he places the plate back onto the table.

“Yep,” he confirms. Lacing his fingers with yours, he leads you towards the staircase, turning back to flash you lazy, cheeky grin. “Your gift was just as cute, though.”

You chuckle out a ‘thank you’ before be whisks you right up the stairs and onto the loft of their room. It’s a shared space, Beelzebub’s half filled with racks of snacks, a copper coloured speaker beside it along with a misplaced dumbbell or two, while Belphegor’s is dotted with blankets and throws, puffed up pillows encircling the telescope that claims centrepiece.

He seats himself at the far right corner, pulling you down with him, snuggling up to you after he drapes a blanket across your forms. Glancing up, you watch the painted stars across his ceiling dance through the drapery, shifting like sun sparked azurite, violet streaking the slow moving celestial bodies. “How beautiful.”

Belphegor hums in agreement before you hear a switch click shut. In an instant, everything is brighter, the night sky coming to life above you in golden glimmers as you let out a sigh of wonder. He laughs beside you, tugging you closer until your side hits his, and he rests his head on your shoulder.

Carding your fingers through his hair, you wonder if this is enough for him, that just being there is what he wants. As if he noticing your worry, he says, “Thank you for being here, really.”

You smile at his words, pushing a few locks behind his ear. “It’s your birthday, Belphie. I’ll stay the whole night if that’s what you want.”

“I want a lot more than that,” he whispers and, before you can even think of a reply, he presses his lips against yours, hands cupping your cheek as you clasp yours behind his neck. He tastes like mint, clean and peppery, the smell of shampoo lingering in the air when he pulls apart after his tongue skims yours for a brief, teasing moment. He gives you no time to catch your bearings, trailing kisses down the column of your neck, suckling and playfully biting, leaving you love marks that you’re sure are going to show tomorrow. “Can I be a little bit more selfish?”

“Yes,” you sigh out and his smile crescents into you skin.

v: 2:00 AM

“Sleep here tonight,” he states. It isn’t a question, it’s an order, one that you comply to with nod of your head and, as if on cue, you yawn. He laughs, taking your hand in his before he sweeps you to your feet. “Tired?”

“Just a little,” you assure, though Belphegor’s not quite as convinced. “I can still stay up.”

With a shake of a head, he’s tugging you down the staircase, making sure that he’s not rushing his steps. “You’re really not that good of a liar,” he points out and you offer him a lopsided frown, bleary-eyed, shoulders hunched over.

Honestly, it’s really not surprising that you’re tired. Beel sent him a picture of the monstrous feast you’d cooked up and he’s sure that must’ve taken at least half a day; then there’s the pillow you made for him, which probably took a lot of trial and error. Today, he suspects, has exhausted the last reserves of your energy and, while he’s happy that you’re willing to push yourself for him, he’d rather you get some rest.

Leading you to the bed, he watches in amusement as you flop onto the mattress, clearly fatigued while he sits at the edge, arms crossed over his head. “Thought you said you weren’t tired.”

“I’m - oh,” and he follows your gaze to the sticky note he’s taped onto the wall; your sticky note. He catches the blush that starts to creep across your cheeks, head quirking to the side. “Oh.”

“I just had to keep it. It’s from you, after all,” he professes and your gaze softens, and it warms him inside out. “I like you; I like everything about you.”

You sit up, pressing a quick peck to the edge of his lips. “I like you, too,” and he lets the words settle into him, skin tingling with goosebumps.

He allows you to pull him with you when you lay back down into the bed and you let out a laugh. He simply sighs, turning his back against the wall to face you, wrapping an arm around your waist, bringing you in closer.

Your arms slip under his to rest at the back of his shoulders. “Stay here?”

“Where else would I go?” You chuckle. “That’s true,” you manage as you snuggle against him, burying your head into his chest. The sight of you, so vulnerable and so trusting of him, makes his breath hitch in his throat, makes him feel a little lighted, and he presses a kiss onto the crown of your head.

“Good night.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #swd obey me #belphegor x reader #beelzebub x reader #munewrites #f: obey me #ch: belphegor #ch: beelzebub #an: happy birthday to these precious twins #an: i'm well aware that mY DUMB ASS IS OVERDUE #an: but I just wanted to finish this fic off #an: wOw fLuFf #an: god i am terrible at fluff and IT SHOWS GOD #an: i'm bad at writing anything remotely happy #an: also belphie was such a struggle to write #an: i wanted him to be straightforward and cheeky/audacious #an: not sure if I did that BUT HERE IT IS

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pixie-cocaine · 4 years

Text

Down A Peg

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Businessman!Brat!Jinyoung × Dominatrix! Reader

Warnings: Pegging, slight mistress kink, dirty talk, Jinyoung cries lol, pretty harsh punishment (rough caning. don't worry tho, the after care makes up for it. Probably.), mentions of breaking skin from caning wounds and bruising 😬, slapping, hair-pulling, strapjob, fingering (m receiving), nipple play, degradation, just pure filth man 💀

Requested: months ago, but yes

Note: Jinyoung has a key at some point and it disappears, but you're not gonna say shit about it. Also it gets lazy near the end, excuse the grammar mistakes.

Word Count: 6.3K (pls don't let this flop, I am exhausted 🤩)

The last thing Jinyoung thought he’d be doing, was going to a professional Dominatrix session. If anyone had even dare mentioned the idea, say a month beforehand, he’d give them the nastiest grimace manageable and avoid them like the plague, not that he didn’t do that to anyone who tried to weasle their way into his private life anyways. It made even his own subconcious howl with laughter at the position Jinyoung had put himself in now.

So much for trying to s tay away, huh?

He didn’t even think something like this could happen. Hell, one minute he was filing more stacks of papers as his assistant talked his ear off, which he had vehemently told her not to do, and the next he found himself bored, and scrolling through a Domme website the night that followed.

But here he was; standing outside the neat black building with his phone in one hand, and a hand cupped in his pockets as he raised an eyebrow before going in. Past the glass doors, he found his surroundings consiting with soft shades of brown. A mahogony reception desk sat to the front of him against a wall, a long hallway next to the desk, and neutral white lights giving the atmosphere a professional look. His legs moved on their own accord while he focused on stabalizing his breathing, not used to the clamminess now making his palms sweat against his sides, and before he knew it, he was standing at the front of the office.

A woman in her early-to-mid twenties sat before him, smile sweet and chestnut brown hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her eyes were soft, almost inquisitive as they assessed Jinyoung’s appearance and outfit, which consisted of a beige turtleneck and black dress pants. She seemed pleased with the effort he put into his looks if her satisfied hum was anything to go by.

“Hello, are you here for an appointment?”

Her voice was cheery, like the chime of a bell, and her face beamed with a radiance that Jinyoung wouldn’t think someone who worked in her place of job would exude. He cleared his throat, “I am, yes.”

“Your name?”

“Park Jinyoung,” she nodded and typed something into the computer to her left.

“And your mistress for the night is Madame Black, correct?”

Jinyoung felt odd with how casual this was going. He’d expected.. something else? No, that was a lie一Jinyoung didn’t know what he expected. Maybe a bad experience, he guesses. He just wasn’t used to the way this was such an open transaction, as if he was going to the doctor’s for a checkup or something. It left him confused as he thought of a couple of his previous encounters with people he trusted on his sex life. The way they scrunched their faces in a disapproving frown when he said he wanted to try subbing, only to backpedal at his embarrasment. The rest just flat out didn't know what they were doing. It was almost laughable how little they knew. But this... This seemed like a whole new ballgame.

“Yeah,” He shook his head in confirmation, the sudden movement making him look like an overenthusiastic dog. The woman laughed at the new show of excitement and leant over the console so she could murmur to him despite the space being completely empty, save for both of them, of course.

“Third door down the hall, you’ll know it’s hers when just standing outside of it makes you wanna piss your pants. Don’t forget to change into one of the robes in the room just to your left. Oh! And just a heads up, Jinyoung,” She smiles with a mischevious glint in her eye and reaches out to drop a black key into his awaiting hand, “She may seem nice, but Madame is not one who tolerates brats. Do go in with the knowledge that she’s not afraid to bite.”

Jinyoung raises a brow at her tease, but smiles back at her nonetheless, "Who says I'm afraid of being bitten?"

With a jerk of his head in what he hoped was a nod, he fought not to not scurry down the hall in his newfound anticipation, smirking to himself at the knowing face of the desk worker.

Jinyoung was jittery with each step that brung him closer to his destination, which now stand a couple feet from him, the deep ebony-shaded door looming with a question that made Jinyoung have second thoughts despite thinking it through for hours; ‘Can I handle what’s behind this door?’

Jinyoung rakes a shaky hand through his hair, trying to take deep breaths as he pushes the cold metal of the key into the lock, twisting it to the right until he hears the telltale Click! Of the latches unslotting while he turns the handle and pushes the inlet open, taking a moment to survey the room before him, then kicks the door closed after he steps inside. Of course he can. If the voice in the back of his head said anything, it probably wouldn’t even be a good experience much different to the other ‘dom’s’ he’s had sex with.

Almost immediately, the tart scent of lavender wafts into his nose. The room was spacious, dimly lit by the soft golden glow of candles occupying the corners which cast shadows across the silky wine carpet, and the delicate shades of a peachy pink had consisted of the walls surrounding him. A king-sized bed with fluffy red covers sat against the back wall, a plush pink chair facing it, and you perch right at the bottom of the bed. Jinyoung feels his heart shake at the sight of you.

Just the way you sit with your legs crossed over one another had his cock stirring behind the silk black robe that curtains his naked frame. You wear a gorgeous tan lingerie set, the top is a thin see-through camisole which stops just above the curve of your upper stomach, displaying the supple mounds of your breasts over a sheen of lace, and the bottoms are a simple high-arch panty, the same fabric and look of the top, but with a skirt-like covering which flutters around the curves of your hips whenever you move. The fact that the set shown your bare body in such a delicate show of wispy materials was what made Jinyoung even more worked up. Your position was relaxed as you sat, holding a glass of champagne, and you cocked your head to the side slightly upon Jinyoung’s arrival. You offer a smile.

“Why hello there!” You gleam, and at the sheer enthusiam which you eminate, Jinyoung finds himself mirroring the smile without his own accord. Something about you just dusts away all of Jinyoung’s previous nerves.

“Hey,” Jinyoung sifts through his head to find the right words, “Madame Black?”

You giggle at the way he says it, obviously giving away that he wasn’t fully aware of what he was about to get himself into, “Yes, that’s me. You must be Park Jinyoung, I’m assuming?”

A nod was your answer.

"Don't be shy, take a seat," you nod towards the chair before you, and Jinyoung obliges, smiling at you as he goes to sit himself down in front of you.

"First of all, I would like to discuss boundaries, even if I’ve already gone over the form you filled out," you begin with a wink, "what’s your opinion on rimming and ass-play in general?”

Jinyoung feels his eyes bug out slightly at the way you so seamlessly jump into it. Shameless, aren’t you? But he isn’t complaining.

He clears his throat and, suddenly unable to look you in the eye, settles his gaze on his lap as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, “I’ve dabbled in it by myself but never really experienced proper ass-play things with somebody else,” mustering up his courage to flick his eyes back to yours, he smirks, “I’d like to try it with you if possible.”

You nod, “how about being rough with you? Hair-pulling, slapping, throat-fucking, etcetera?”

He seems to strongly approve if the fast dipping of his head means anything, and if that weren’t enough to give you a gist to how much he liked the idea, he isn’t afraid to say so.

“Anything that will leave me sore, I’m completely into. I like seeing the after effects.”

“Cum-eating and degradation?”

“Very eager to try.”

“Alright, anything else you’d like to add into the mix?”

Jinyoung muses, then shakes his head, to which you hum at.

“Now, Jinyoung, I’m going to ask you a question, and you’re going to answer with a very well thought-out response,” you raise an eyebrow at the brunette, eyeing him down like the first meal you’d seen in days, “Are you sure you want to do this?

Jinyoung can feel his heart thrum against his ribcage, like the hard beat of a drum, when he hears your words. You were definitely experienced in this, even someone with half a brain could tell. He could feel his lips stretch into a smile, an idea coming to mind as you gently set your champagne glass on the floor a couple steps away from your feet, then sit back up to cock your head to the side.

“If I’m being honest, Madame,” He scorns the name out, mocking your authority, “I don’t think you’ll be any better than the self-proclaimed ‘dom’s’ that I’ve been with.”

"Huh."

"I mean—look at what you're wearing—how am I supposed to believe that this is a dominatrix scene and not a sub session where I can easily just knock you around?"

Wow.

You can’t quite bite back the loud, boisterous peals of laughter that bubble up frrom your chest fast enough when you finally register his words after staring at him for a couple seconds, vacantly blinking at the brunette and trying to figure out if you heard him right. You wipe a tear from your eye, still tittering, “And what makes you think that just because I'm wearing delicate and frilly lingerie doesn't mean I can't fuck your guts out, Mr. Jinyoung the powerful CEO?”

Jinyoung frowns, “How do you know that I’m a CEO?”

God, this was getting more interesting by the moment.

Shaking your head, you rake your eyes up the sultry expose of his hardened calves and legs, slowly meeting his eyes once more, and grinning as you do so, “You must think I’m dumb. You act like that smug little face of yours isn’t plastered all over the city. Regardless..,” You lean forward, "Yes or no, Jinyoung? I promise, I'm well worth the money."

Jinyoung thinks for a moment, still in shock from the mention of his job, even if he already knows his answer before he says it. This was his chance to experience what he'd always wanted. Maybe. You already knew his kinks due to the form he had to fill out, as well as the little transaction, so he had no doubt that you knew which buttons to press, but he wanted to know if you could take him beyond his limits like he's always hoped for. If you knew how to press those buttons just right, or if you were just another let-down with a more professional look and platform. This was it, and he was going to make you work him over as much as you could.

"Yes, I'm sure I want to do this."

Jinyoung feels a shudder wrack his shoulders at how smoothly your facade transitioned to one of pure intimidation and stony expressions. The smile that once graced your seemingly sweet attributes was now wiped away and replaced with a carefully adept mask of indifference.

You keep his stare whilst you bend down to retrieve a big, black wooden box from beneath the bed, setting it beside you as you stand from your spot and lift the lid from the case to pull out a leather clasping, as well as a thick and textured blue dildo which was, admittedly, one of your biggest straps. You look to Jinyoung as you began attaching the proper clippings and belts in order to fasten it around your hips.

“On your knees.”

Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, Jinyoung slowly pushes himself away from the chair and sinks down to his knees, mouth watering at the authority in your tone of voice, and blood beginning to heat underneath his skin as you secure the harness and move to close the distance between the both of you. Deft fingers trace the sharp lining of Jinyoung’s jaw, trailing a line to the dip of his chin before taking it between your thumb and forefinger with a force that worries the bone slightly.

He's pretty, you think. One of the prettiest men that have ever occupied your time as a dominatrix, with full lips and features that would deem him model-worthy. You smile. You would have fun making a mess of him.

“Safeword?”

Jinyoung is taken aback for a moment, allegedly in a daze to the golden view from below you. “Hm... 'Promotion'?" He smiles at his own small joke.

You hum, grabbing the ribbed silicone that stare back at Jinyoung, and pressing the tip to the seam of his mouth with short, prodding impels.

“Open,” you murmur.

He obeys, albeit after frowning slightly; letting his lips part to engulf the width of your strap, wasting no time in stooping his head lower so he could stop midway on your cock, his throat constricting around the foreign object now lodged in his passage. You moan down at him with a hand raking through the soft tresses of his hair in appreciation at his eagerness.

“Suck.”

And he does.

Jinyoung started out strong at first; bobbing his head as he craned his neck this way and that to really go in on you without hesitation, hollowing his cheeks and looking up at you with a determinbed look, but after a while of swallowing your cock like he had one chance to impress you, he makes a rasping sound in the back of his throat, vaguely like the creaking of bed springs, followed by a lewd slurping noise before he goes to pull away. You catch the back of his head with a hand, raising an eyebrow as you shove him back down to where he’d stopped previous.

Jinyoung gags, a beautiful, surprised chuck of sound that makes you sigh at the way he sought for purchase at your thighs, a poor attempt to steady himself when you were already pulling back to drive your cock back down his throat with a fist-full of his hair. A range of noises that originate from Jinyoung bounce off the walls of the room, mostly different variations of kecks and physical strains on his trachea, but some being choked-off whimpers and half-strangled gasps of which he could actually get in between you fucking into his face and withdrawing.

You finally slow your pace to more shallow strokes, and looking past the pretty shine of Jinyoung’s now tear-stained face, you can see the tent in the flap of his robe. You favor him with a devilish grin, one that he sadly can’t see due to staring down at where you had your cock in his mouth.

“Look at me, whore,” the stern demand comes out in a throaty growl as you use your hand, still laced within the damp tresses of his hair, to yank his head back and up at you, resulting in both a muffled yelp and the back of Jinyoung’s neck popping at the sudden movement.

The sight was immoral in every sense of the word. His swollen lips, which were wrapped around the pink cock strapped to your hips, were left hanging open with obvious smears of glistening drool, still seeping from the corners, his cheeks streaked over with it in some places and mixing the stream of drying tears falling from his wide eyes. You can hear him begin to gag around the strap, considering he is shoved down to the hilt, but you only push his head down and keep him there. Instead, staring in amusement at the way he sputters and coughs, wanting to savor how his face begins to turn a lovely shade of red. When you are certain he can’t breathe, you pull him off and let him drink in desperate gulps of much needed air, the soft peach color returning to his face when his lungs begin to relax.

Stunning, you think.

Jinyoung gasps when you force him up to his feet by his hair, practically stumbling when you turn the two of you around so you can then proceed to to shove him onto the bed, ignoring the groan of the springs due to the impact. His head is a mess from the influxion of air he experiences. Only the ache between his legs keeping Jinyoung tied to this world as he softly pants, laying on his forearms with glossy eyes locked on yours and how you follow suit; crawling onto the bed and taking place hovering right over him. Jinyoung moans lowly when you lean in to press open-mouthed kisses, hot and wet, against his jawline, your hand snaking down the expanse of his hidden body to pull at the tied robe sash, and you treat yourself with a peek down at how it falls open to reveal everything he had to offer. Smoothing your fingers along the breathtaking show of defined muscle and healthy flesh, you curse.

“Of course such a little brat would have a fantastic body...”

Jinyoung lets out a complacent laugh at your subtle annoyance. He knows he has a good body, and he knows he's attractive, which makes you all the more irritated, considering he is perfect in every way, and you have no doubt in your mind that he uses it to get what he wants.

“You sure are taking your time,” He gripes out, hoping to stir your anger.

You snicker at him, and without thinking too much of it, strike him across the face, not waiting for his head to fully turn to the left before you grab his cheeks, force him back to you, and slap him again.

Once. Twice. Three times.

You feel his cock twitch against your thigh, and his mouth parts in pleased shock as he breathes.

“Say it again, bitch"

"I said, you sure are taking your—Ah!"

He's momentarily shocked into silence when you immediately shove your hands under his waist to hoist Jinyoung's legs behind his head, essentially folding him in half and displaying his exposed bottom, which is just as gorgeous as everything else about him. That's saying something, because an asshole, dick, and balls shouldn't even be in the same sentence as 'gorgeous.'

Jinyoung doesn't have time to protest, because as soon as he opens his mouth to fuss, he feels a strong, harsh slap land right on his hole. He yelps, kicking his feet out the best he can until he cries out again upon registering the next three smacks that rain down on the same spot.

"Rude, rude, boy. Has nobody ever taught you that you shouldn't speak back to your Mistress?" You growl, blowing cool air over his fluttering rim before patting his ass gently, "Stay like this or else I'm shoving an inflatable plug up your ass and stretching you until you rip."

Shaky and wanting, Jinyoung let's out a breath, doing as you say and hooking his hands into the back of his knees in order to press down and stay in said position. It unfortunately does put a strain on his lower back, but as much as he likes punishment, he's not betting on having his poor butt mercilessly torn open like you promised.

"What's your favorite color?"

The question half-startles him, "Red...?"

"Good choice," You chirp, and like that, you're holding his legs in place again; dangling a bottle of reddish-tinted lube over him as you happily squirt the cool gel onto his hole and two of your fingers. You tease him—gently running your hand up the soft skin of his left leg whilst you push the pad of your digit against his entrance, letting it breach slightly before pulling back to do it again.

"Tell me you want it."

He groans, "I want it..."

"Yeah?" You lie your cheek on his thigh, staring down at him with narrowed eyes. You love how exposed he is right now. Vulnerable to your gaze, and letting you touch him in such lewd ways. You always liked these parts of your sessions—where you could see the raw arousal in their faces. Letting your hand slide from Jinyoung's thigh to his cock, you begin simultaneously stroking him and, finally, pushing your fingers into his ass. He suddenly jerks upwards the best he really can with his legs behind his head, and you already know that both the sensations combined feel odd for him.

"Does it hurt?" You ask, half-wanting him to say it does so you can see the look on his face when you add another finger. But he doesn't, thankfully, and you whisk away the sadistic thoughts that you don't really want there. Instead, he shakes his head with a weak noise of slight discomfort.

"It doesn't hurt, but it feels... Weird?" Jinyoung doesn't seem so sure of himself when he actually says the words out loud. The confused frown knitting his eyebrows together mimes that of someone who was deciding on whether they liked something or not.

"Mm. Give it a minute."

And he does. He breathes heavily at the still-going stimulation to his cock, furrowing his brows everytime you move your fingers in a strange way as you try and find a pace, then, like clockwork as your digits graze upwards of his walls, he gasps, loud and surprised.

"Oh? Did I find it?" You grin, raising an eyebrow whilst continuing to abuse that spot inside of him. You revel in the way he moans. It's actually very melodical, everytime he reaches a high note it sounds like he's about to start singing, and it catches you off-guard when he keens before letting his lower body fall against the bed.

You tsk and shrug, "I was gonna be nice but it looks like you're just itching for punishment."

"Well what the hell did you expect when you put me in a painful position like-"

Thwap!

You give him another good slap to the face, then, almost too aggressively, force him to the edge of the bed so you can bend him over.

"Don't look at me, keep your eyes on the floor or I'll make it worse," you murmur, and with a mischievous smile, you walk over to the large black closet to the side of your bed. You can hear Jinyoung's heavy breathing reverberating throughout the room the entire time it takes to fetch your trusty cane and take position back behind Jinyoung.

The cane is long, about the height of a relatively high-standing desk, and decorated with accents of blood red while the rest is tinted a ravishing mulberry purple. It's thick at the top which makes it easy to hold onto, and it begins to slight as it reaches the the tip, which is skinny and carefully rounded.

"So, here's what we're gonna do," you begin, running your fingers up and down the polished rattan, "I am going to hit you with this cane as hard as I can, and you are going to count each and every stroke that I put on your thighs and backside. Do you hear me?"

Jinyoung sucks in a breath, but nods his head nonetheless.

"Come on, you know better. I need you to say it."

"Yes, I hear you."

"Hear you, what?" You lean forward to whisper into the shell of his ear, enjoying the way he lets out a small whimper and pushes his ass back against you.

"Yes, I hear you, Mistress..."

"Good Boy. Now, spread your legs a bit, and when you feel the cane, begin counting."

Jinyoung does as told easily enough; widening the space between his feet until his legs stand out in a small 'v' shape, and waiting in anticipation for you to begin the punishment. He can hear the blood rush in his ears.

Shwoop- thwack!

The pain that surges in a line against both cheeks is nothing short of winding. He thought it'd sting a bit at most but fuck, he had trouble keeping his legs from wobbling.

"One!" He shrills.

Shwoop- thwack!

"Two!"

Shwoop- thwack!

"T-Three!"

It feels like it goes on for forever if he's being honest. It's the same pain, but it gets worse with each swing and cut. It doesn't help that your cane had broken skin and drawn blood every couple strokes to both the backs of his thighs and cheeks, and you kept on hitting the same wounds.

"Twenty... twenty-one.."

"My good boy.. you did so, so well," You all but coo, dropping the cane to the floor with a thud as you lean forward to drape yourself over his back, careful not to make contact with his injuries whilst you trail your fingers between his legs so you can continue stroking his cock, grip loose and barely touching him with each swipe over his shaft.

"It hurts...!" Jinyoung's voice wavers, and you can finally hear the submission in his tone. You like hearing him like this; on the edge of breaking down, sobbing out his pain and pleasure, and all for you.

You smile, tightening your fist around his tip and holding it there just to savor the way he cries out and reaches down to try and stop your administrations, "But you like when it hurts, don't you? You like seeing how bad of a boy you'd been, and you like feeling those repercussions wear off even more, no?"

"N-no..."

"Mistress doesn't like liars, baby. Say you're sorry and maybe I'll make the pain feel better," You hum, only the slightest of touches ghosting against Jinyoung's nipples, butterfly kisses on the back of his ear.

"I'm sorry.. I-I'm sorry..!"

"Move up the bed. Hands and knees, still."

He's crying as he carries out your command, you realise. Tears, shiny, like the first drops of rain, run in flexuous tracks down his cheeks, and a blush dusts the ball of his nose. He makes no noise, but you can see the stutter of his chest and the way his breath hitches everytime he tries to take in a full inhale.

"See what happens when you don't listen to your Mistress? She has to hurt you, and she doesn't quite like hurting you to the point of drawing blood," you sigh and can't help but frown at the marks left on his body, especially the way you can identify the blooming bruises, which range from pretty shades of red to slowly darkening purples. Not to mention the many long cuts that litter just above the bruises.

"I-I'm sorr-sorry," Jinyoung involuntarily hiccups, and the way he reaches back and out for your top, tugging at the hem to get you to come closer, undoubtedly makes your mask slip a bit.

"Don't-.. don't look at me like that.."

But he keeps doing it. He keeps looking at you with those eyes. Those eyes that plead and beg in only the ways that make your body light aflame with desire to see him break completely under your touch.

"Fuck me... Please fuck me," He whispers, still looking at you from over his shoulder and holding onto your camisole.

"I bet you do. You've had that look in your eyes ever since you walked through the door. Don't worry, though. I'll fuck you. I'll fuck you hard enough to make your mind go blank, and I'll fuck you good enough that everytime you touch yourself, you'll wish it was my hands instead of yours," you crawl onto the mattress and keep direct eye contact as you do so. You want him to take in the fire in your eyes, and know that you mean everything you say.

And from the way he whines upon your hand encasing his throat when you take place behind him, lining yourself up with his entrance with your breath hot on the back of his neck, he gets the memo.

"Have you ever had a cock inside you, Jinyoung?"

"Only finger-ers," He gasps out, still catching his breath to make coherent sentences as his crying dies down.

You nod into his shoulder, "We're gonna take this part slow, then, okay? Deep breaths.. I'm pushing inside, now."

The stretch is slow and, admittedly, overwhelming; the way your strap's textured shaft tenses his walls around the thickness of it's outer layers has him clutching and the sheets and making all sorts of noises, from groans to whimpers, from low-tones to high-notes, then finally, you bottom out. Your hips meet the plush skin of his ass, which he yelps at, and you take a moment to massage the column of his neck, trying to get him to relax as much as possible. It is his first time with a dick up his ass, after all, and he'd just taken a brutal punishment with, from the looks of it, painful consequences.

"What's the traffic light say, Jinyoung?"

He knows what it means, and when he's actually asked the question, it sparks a sort of satisfaction in him. He means wow, someone who actually checks in with him during sex and doesn't just do whatever they want without making sure he's ok with it.

"Green. Just go slow, please? It still hurts a bit."

He's surprised when you actually listen to him, and begin pacing yourself slower; careful movements of your hips, barely even registered as thrusts, and soft brushes over the hardness of his nipples once again as a distraction from any lingering uncomfort.

"Is it ok to go faster?"

He nods, and turns his face to the side so he can look at you properly. He looks so good like this; watery eyes and a needy expression painted on his face like glass.

It's then that you find yourself kissing him.

It catches him off-guard, obviously, but he leans into it nonetheless, and damn did you know how to kiss. Your lips were sweet against his, mouth moving in tune with his own and it was quite easy for you to take control of things. One squeeze to his throat and he was putty.

You don't even notice that you're thrusting into him too fast until he grabs at your hip from behind and whines into your mouth, which makes you want to go all the more faster, but you don't. You groan, nibbling his lip before you pull away with a grin, and weave your hand into his hair so you can gently push his face into the covers. His arch is gorgeous. Just like the rest of him, you think.

"Jesus, you're a sight.. you know that?"

From the neat curtain of bangs, you can faintly see Jinyoung smile, "Do you like it?"

"Baby you know I like it," You curse as you smooth a hand down the sultry slope of his back, all muscled and strong yet delicate in a way that you find hard to explain.

He moans, loud and clear for you, "Then show me, mistress. Please?"

'Showing him' would be an understatement of what you did. It was like you were possessed; one moment he was on his hands and knees, looking back at you with that fucking face, and the next, you had him flipped over on his back, drilling into him like your life depends on it. You don't know how long you fuck him, but you know that you were in a daze as you snap back to the present.

It's brutal, the way you pound into him. Rough, animalistic, and downright cruel. He's trying his best to stay tethered to this world, but you make it extremely hard with the way you bull his knees into his own chest and stare at him, long and heavy, with each other's foreheads touching and a hand jerking him off at a rapid speed. He wails and cries out every couple seconds, his voice now strained in his throat and wearing thin like the threads of an old spiderweb.

"Is this what you fucking wanted? Huh? Well here it is so fucking take it, bitch. Take it all and don't you dare waste it or else I swear you'll regret it," You growl, your teeth clenched hard enough to put pressure on your gums as you unhook your arm from under his left knee and instead use it to choke him. He struggles at the lack of blood going to his brain, but nods regardless.

"I-I'm c—oh my god please—I'm cumming! I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna-"

"Then fucking cum, you filthy whore. Do it, all over your stomach. Make Mistress proud, hm? Make her proud of her good little fuck doll, I know you can do it, baby."

Letting go of Jinyoung's throat has more of an effect than you anticipated. The influx of air and blood, paired with his approaching orgasm, quite literally throws him headfirst into his climax. His mouth falls open in a silent scream as he writhes and twitches, spilling white on his lower abdomen, and one shot even glances him on the collarbones.

It's silent for a moment as he catches his breath, still shaking, and that's when you make the decision of discarding your strap-on into the basket near your closet with a single toss. Jinyoung, on the other hand, is on cloud 9. He feels like he's floating in a golden sea of bliss, which clouds of cotton candy hanging overhead, and he barely registers it when he feels your fingers on his body once again.

He looks down, "Hm..?"

"Pfft holy shit, look at you," You bring your palm to your mouth as you giggle at the man's euphoria, "Yeah.. Oh yeah, you're definitely feeling it, huh? Told you I was worth the money."

"No shit. That was... Jesus, that was insane."

"Mm thanks, pretty. Sit still, I'll be right back."

You hop up off the bed with another quick glance at Jinyoung before you disappear behind a misty glass door. While you're doing.. whatever you're doing, Jinyoung takes the time to sit up and try and find a comfortable position because of course it's now that everything finally settles in.

"Ow, fuck!" He hisses at the pain of trying to sit on his ass with all the cuts on it.

"Yeah, about that, put your butt up for a moment?"

He frowns, but upon seeing the tube of ointment in your hand as well as baby wipes and a lollipop, sighs and reluctantly bends over.

"I know, I know, but don't worry, it'll only sting a bit. Also, make sure to apply some Neosporin or disinfectant on the backs of your thighs and bottom until they begin to scab up." You drone on about how to take care of the injuries whilst applying the salve, the basics on how to not exercise while they're still open because the sweat can cause an infection, the usual things. When you're done both rubbing the medicine on him and giving him a jog through cautions, you finally twist the covering on the tube of ointment and reach for the wet wipes before meeting Jinyoung's eyes again.

"Roll on your back, please. Feet up in the air and spread your legs so I can see everything."

"Why?"

"Because," you smile, already nudging him to move into position, "You're all messy. I need to clean you up, don't I? Now come here, I even have a lollipop for you since you did so well."

It's soft how you take care of him, Jinyoung thinks. The mood switch is completely different from what you were like when you were fucking him like you hated him, because now, you're so concerned about whether you're pressing the wipes too hard onto his skin as you swipe the cold sheet between his legs and rear end.

"I'm sorry," you say, slowing down on cleaning him to snort at how hard he sucks on the light green candy, admiring how at peace he looks with the warm expression he wears.

"For what?"

"I probably went a little too hard on you. This was your first actual time with an experienced domme, and I'm afraid that I could've ruined it for future references."

"Oh no, don't feel bad. I liked it."

"You did?" Your eyebrows shoot up.

"Of course. This is probably the best I've felt in literal months."

And he smiles. He smiles genuinely one of the most breathtaking smiles you've ever seen, with a slight fan of creasing around his eyes from the rise of his cheeks, and a laugh like pure beauty. You return it.

"Well, I'm glad I could help, Jinyoung. Now, I think it's about time for you to go, considering the session is officially over, and you most likely have a lot of work in the morning," You wink and stand from your spot on the bed.

Jinyoung allows you to help him back inside his robe, even rub the dried tear tracks off his cheeks, and before he knows it, he's slowly walking away from your assigned room, looking back at you as you stand in the doorway with a hand on your hip.

"Goodbye, Madame Black."

"Goodbye, Mr. CEO. Come again sometime, I'm sure you'd love to be taken down another peg."

#HOLY FUCK THIS TOOK FOREVER #a lot longer than I expected #well all that matters is that its here now #hope you enjoy lmao #kpop smut #hard got7 hours #smut #jinyoung smut #got7 smut #sub!got7 #sub got7 #sub!jinyoung #domme reader #domme!reader #dom!reader #dom reader #sub!idol #sub idol #idol x reader

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imomomi · 4 years

Text

A Long Time Coming

Summary: Miya Atsumu was a missed chance. But, it doesn’t have to be that way...

Word Count: 1762

Warnings: Slight Language

“Get your feet off the desk,” you say, kicking the back Miya Atsumu’s chair. His brother—the twin that everyone says is the better of the two, but curses and fights just as much—snorts with laughter.

“Oy, don’t touch me, ya scrub.”

“Sit properly then. You might be okay with eating dirt, but I ain’t.”

“Miss Goody-two-shoes,” he mocks. Heat rises to your neck, but you don’t bother responding. For as long as you’ve known the twins, any chance to disrupt class is readily taken. You’re already tired, having stayed up late studying for an exam later on in the day and the idea of fighting with Atsumu is exhausting. He glances over his shoulder, eyes hot on your face before he turns with a sigh.

“You know,” he mutters, head falling into the palm of his hand. His gaze is heavy, lids blinking with a deliberate slowness that has you holding back a shudder, “You’d be a lot more interesting if you actually put up a fight, Y/N-chan.”

“I don’t care about your opinion, Miya-san.”

He grins, leaning close enough that you can smell the mix of laundry detergent and crisp, cologne coming from him. Osamu scoffs quietly, but doesn’t look away from his bento.

“That’s why I like ya,” he says. You don’t like how he says it. It’s too sincere and earnest for a boy who frequently lies to you. Frustrated you roll up your notes and smack him on the head with it. Eager to escape the too-small classroom, you stand up, digging for some coins. He shouts the name of his favorite tea brand as you leave, but you pretend not to hear it.

You don’t want to be pulled in the Miya’s circle—Atsumu’s circle because you know that years in the future, it’s him who’s going to be on T.V. doing that ridiculous pre-serve ritual. It’s better to avoid him now, than to have to forget him then.

Crying is the last thing you expect to do on graduation day, but the tears are heavy and keep flowing despite you’re attempts at quelling them. Mitsu and Hana are lost in the crowd, calming down their nervous juniors who declare that they’ll keep the cheer team running seamlessly in honor of them.

“Why the hell are you crying?” Atsumu asks. He leans back, looking at you with a mixture of confusion and disgust. A watery laugh leaves your mouth and for once, you can admit to being glad to see him.

“I’m going abroad,” you explain, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. A streak of black follows that has you snorting at the idea of waterproof mascara.

“Shit, really?”

“Yeah. Got into university in the US. You’ll have to find someone else to bother while I’m gone,” you say with a smile that falls flat in an instant.

Atsumu rubs the back of his head, eyes boring into your face. You don’t have the courage to meet his gaze head on.

He pulls you close and traps you between his arms. You stand shell-shocked, arms hanging awkwardly by your side at the hug. Atsumu’s chin falls onto of your head. Skin itchy, tears pricking behind your eyelids, you swallow hard. You don’t have a name to this feeling that you’ve spent the past two years denying, but you know what it is. The warmth crawling through your chest blossoms. You want to be brave and rash like he is, but Atsumu is chasing his dreams without a care of the people he leaves behind. He makes you feel small for wanting to latch on and never let go.

“Don’t complain. I’m just gonna miss you, you stupid idiot,” he says, pulling away. He rests his hands on your shoulder and for a moment you’re worried he’s going to try and kiss you. His eyes rack your face, committing it to memory. If it’s the last time he sees you, he wants to remember how ugly you look with mascara streaming down your face and cheeks blotchy from crying.

“You really need to work on your vocabulary, that’s redundant.” You pull his hands from your shoulders and walk away. He watches you go, wondering for the first time exactly what it was that you wanted to do. He’d never asked before. Volleyball was as much a passion as it was an obsession. He knew he was an asshole and selfish to the bone. It’d always been a far-fetched hope that you’d look his way.

Osamu finds him a while later lingering by the school entrance, quieter than he’d ever been.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Samu, I think I got rejected.”

“Y/N? She’s too smart for you anyway.”

“Shut up, you lazy scrub.”

“Don’t yell at me for telling you the truth, jerk,” Osamu shouts. The back of his hand connects with Atsumu’s head, the familiar sting is a welcome relief from the odd tightening in his chest.

The court is already packed by the time you make it in. Ticket held tightly in your hand; you wonder if you have enough time to grab some food before the game starts. It’s been years since you’d watch a volleyball match live. The time difference often meant waking up at odd hours and using a VPN to get a stream straight from Japan. Nerves flutter in your stomach, but you know the chance of actually seeing Atsumu is low. Even if you did, your lives have been diverging for so long, there wouldn’t be anything to say.

Deciding to take a chance at getting food---you haven’t had proper onigiri in so long that even half-assed attempts make your mouth water—you wait in line. Brows furrowing, you tilt your head at the sign in front of the stand. Miya Onigiri? Surely, Atsumu wasn’t bullish enough to go plastering his name on everything?

“Y/N?” a voice greets as you near the front of the line. You can’t help but stare at Atsumu’s face—but it’s not him, too soft, too polite to be him.

“Osamu?” you ask hesitantly.

“What the hell? I have seen you in forever.” He jerks forward, almost as if he was going to hug you but the counter stops him from getting to far.

“I just got back to Japan. I…This isn’t actually that surprising. You always did have the best bentos in class,” you say, smiling warmly. Osamu matches it. He looks down the line, eyes tightening in frustration at the number of people. He wants to catch up, wants to take a picture and send it Atsumu just to screw with him, but he has work to do.

“What do you want? It’s on the house,” he asks.

“That’s a bad way to run a business,” you scold, lightly.

“If it was going to fail, it would have by now,” he counters, shoving a box of onigiri into your hand. You walk away, slightly stunned as his voice chases you demanding that you meet up after the match.

If he was a goddamn scrub like Osamu or that loser Kageyama, he’d admit that the sight of you left him breathless. But, he’s not so what comes out of his mouth instead is:

“Couldn’t stay away?”

You nose crinkles and the sight sends a jolt through him. He feels like he’s back in high school, doing stupid shit just to grab your attention. He’s not lucky enough to know what you’ve done the past seven years, but you’ve probably seen all the dumb articles about him.

“To be honest, I wanted to how an Olympic setter played in person,” you say, nodding towards Kageyama. Both of you know the words aren’t true, but he scowls anyway.

“Stick around for a bit and I’ll show ya, sweetheart.”

“Ugh, you haven’t changed a bit.”

“I’d say the same, but you look like you’re at least a c-cup now.”

He expects you to yell or pull your sweater tighter, but you throw your head back and laugh. The sound warms his blood, burrows into his hollow chest, and lingers there. It hadn’t been love, not even close to the thing, back in high school. There was always that slight chance, the idea that maybe he could love you that fascinated him.

But now, he can’t look away, can’t shake the hope that tightens its grip on his heart. It’s worth all the waiting, all the frustrating time spent pretending that he didn’t care that he was alone just to have this chance. Before where there’d been a cold, unmovable wall, there’s a slight crack just wide enough for him to squeeze through. Maybe you didn’t even realize it, maybe it wouldn’t work but, you’d come here for a reason.

“Are you staying?”

“The game is over.”

“In Japan, you idiot. I know the game’s over, I played in it.”

“I know that,” you scowl, flushing fiercely, “and yes. I…I’m living in Tokyo.”

“Good. Come out with me on Saturday,” he stops, looking you over once more and adds, “On a date.”

“We haven’t seen each other in years,” you protest.

“Come on, Y/N,” he whines, hands swinging in the air, “Can’t we just skip the whole friend’s part and get to the good stuff?”

“I could have a boyfriend. You shouldn’t just assume, I’m available for you.”

“Well, dump him.”

“You’re insane. Honestly, get help. And don’t beg, it makes you look like more of a loser than usual.”

“So yes? Or yes?”

“I’ll think about it,” you tease. Atsumu’s done playing though and before you realize what’s happening, he’s pulled you close to him. Rough hands cup your cheeks, tilting your head up as he presses his lips against yours. It’s rough and too long to for a first kiss, but Atsumu’s reason flew out of his mind the moment he saw you. He’s drinking all of your movements, the small hand burrowing in his hair, the flingers clutching at this shirt, the way you tongue slips between his lips eager and all too fleeting as you pull away.

“What?” asks Atsumu, wide-eyed. You point at Osamu behind him, whose busy wheezing with laughter as a child stood watching the two of you in disgust.

“Awww man, why’d you have to go and ruin the moment?”

“Pay attention to your fans, you disgusting pig.” Osamu says. The little boy is still there, pen hanging in his hands as he shyly offers the jersey.

#atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #miya atsumu #atsumu imagines #atsumu miysa #atsumu miya x reader

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 4 years

Text

Always made to break (S.M.)

Summary: Shawn meets someone who reawakens his soul and makes him question his choices in love.

Warnings: swearing, slight angst, fluff

Word count: 4k

A/N - I’ve had this in my drafts for a while, so I decided to post it and see how you guys like it, so let me know if you want more.

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''Were you ever going to tell me?“ She practically growled at Shawn as she threw a magazine in his lap, the tone she used scaring him enough to look up at her face, the beautiful features now twisted with rage and disappointment, something he never wanted to see her direct at him.

''I don't unders-'', but then he saw just what she meant, seeing his face attached to Camilla's on the front page of a random gossip magazine. He knew why she was looking at him with such fire in her eyes, and not the kind he expected to see in the bedroom, but the purest form of hatred mixed with pain.

''Not only did you poise as some poor photography student, but you also claimed you're single?! How stupid can I be, right?“ She put her right hand on her hip, using the back of her left one to wipe under her nose although nothing was there but a fathom sensation of coldness he had caused her insides now manifesting on the outside as well. She didn't shed a single tear yet, her anger not allowing her heartbreak to show.

It is better to hate him for his lies than to feel sorry for herself, she decided.

''I didn't want to...“ Shawn trailed off, unable to find the words. He, a man of many words, a person who had always managed to put his emotions in the most eloquent of ways had found himself speechless at a time he needed his words the most.

''Didn't want what? To tell me you're rich and famous? That you're dating a star? Huh?!“ She huffed, her eyes burning him with the intensity of the unrestrained pit of bursting flames within.

''What was this to you? Huh? A joke? Did it make you feel good to make me the fool?!“ She shouted, the raw emotion ripping her throat like a thousand razorblades.

Bowing his head down, Shawn swallows thickly, his eyes filling with tears he knew would only anger her more in this moment. He doesn't get to cry over breaking her heart, he just doesn't.

At the beginning

It was supposed to be a calm, ordinary Monday morning for Shawn. After months on the road, it was nice to be back home for a short break from the stage and screaming fans, just him and his earplugs and a good cup of coffee. It was supposed to be a regular, lonesome morning to start the day off right, but things never really work out the way we want them to.

Whether he meant to sit in that particular café, in that particular chair, with that particular song playing as he lazily glanced around before taking the first sip of his coffee, Shawn had started a chain of events that would lead him into a world of trouble, yet unimaginable love and heartache.

In that lazy glance, Shawn had managed to catch a young girl's eye, his curls falling over his eyes obscuring his vision. She had merely smiled at him, so sweetly, so shyly, enough for Shawn to return the gesture. Her eyes fell back on her phone and he assumed she was likely sending a message to all her friends about seeing THE Shawn Mendes, probably posting a sneakily taken photo of him in his moment of supposed tranquility as well.

It's not as if he's not used to it, but Shawn really hoped he'd have this morning to himself, a moment to put his thoughts in proper order and a second to breathe. He's been having his picture taken every day, multiple times by fans and paparazzi, especially since he started the whole agreement with Camila and her team.

Shawn was tired of it, drained, so when he hoped for a moment of his own and lost it? He truly didn't feel at ease anymore.

He looked back at the girl once more, angrily with eyes narrowed. She seemed oblivious to his newfound outlet as she kept scrolling on her phone. She was beautiful, Shawn couldn't deny that. In fact, it's why he looked her way in the first place – it's why he sat in this particular café, outside on such a cold morning to have his coffee, all because she caught his eye as he was passing the street. However, whatever drew him in had now pushed him away as he scoffed under his breath, shaking his head.

That's when she looked up from her phone and trained her eyes on him again, a confused look passing her features as she stood slowly, setting herself on a path toward him.

Rolling his eyes, Shawn reminded himself to be nice for his image is kindness and never random rage outbursts on young girls who want a photo with him. He drew in a short, quick breath of fresh air before he looked up at her when she stopped a few feet away from him, prepared to fake it if need be.

"I’m really not in the mood.” Shawn says before he can stop himself, mentally face palming when he sees the girl’s eyebrows furrow, her bottom lip sinking between her teeth as she cleared her throat.

“I wanted to ask if you needed something aside from the coffee considering you’ve been looking at me this whole time. I just assumed you were annoyed because my colleague hasn’t been out in a while. I’m sorry for making the wrong assumption and bothering you.” She wasn’t harsh or rude, making Shawn feel even guiltier as he paled. Finally realizing she’s the waitress, Shawn’s paleness is quickly replaced with a crimson shade that he could never truly hide.

The girl didn’t get a chance to walk away as he stood up abruptly, knocking the table up in the process with his thighs, some of his coffee spilling over.

“No, no, no. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be so rude, I just…I do want something.” Shawn exclaimed, hoping he can dig himself out of this deep hole he managed to dig for himself in a matter of seconds. “A bagel! And a brownie, please?” Shawn gave her an awkward smile, running his hand through his messy curls as she studies him with care, unsure if she should say something about his odd behavior or just take it like she usually does.

There are worse customers than him, she thinks.

“Sure.” She sighs, placing her phone on his table before whipping out a small notepad to write his order down, walking away right after.

Sitting down, Shawn sighed heavily at his stupidity, chuckling at himself. Rubbing his forehead to soothe an oncoming headache, he opens his eyes only to find her phone is still on the table, unlocked at that!

He stared at the gadget with great interest, wondering if he had assumed more than one thing wrong and if he had to change his opinion of this girl entirely. He didn’t want to take the phone and search it, but what’s the harm in peering over his cup to see what app she’s got open, right?

“Most common complications of a bowl resection?” Shawn reads under his breath, his eyebrows knitted together as he stares at the words that quite frankly sound like they came from a Grey’s anatomy episode.

“What are you doing?” A sweet voice startles him into a small yelp, the girl chuckling at this tall hunk who seems to be so clumsy and presumptuous that she can’t quite figure him out yet.

“Oh, I…Uh…I’m a simple guy, really. I see a phone screen and I have to sneak a peek, except I can’t understand a damn thing written on there.” Shawn rubbed the back of his neck nervously, sure as hell that his face is tomato red by now. He hates tomatoes just as much as he hates his treacherous cheeks for betraying every emotion he’s ever had.

Giggling, she places his order on the table, pushing back a strand of hair behind her right ear. She takes her phone swiftly, pocketing it in a single move.

“Yeah, I’ve got an exam to prepare for. Been working the night shift! Lucky me!” She exclaims sarcastically, her lips pressed together before she places the bill on his table too, turning around to go.

She isn’t even wearing a uniform, Shawn realizes, watching her as she takes her bag and begins to pack her things from the table she was sat at before. She took his order even after her shift ended. Biting down on his bottom lip, Shawn could sense a war is brewing between his head and heart, each arguing why he should or should not go after her.

Shawn’s always been a heart guy, deciding to go ahead and listen to it once again.

Jumping to his feet, Shawn moves toward her on instinct, not quite ready for her to go. He’s got too much accumulated guilt over judging her and assuming things about her that he was clearly wrong about and while she didn’t know it, he still wanted to make amends. Shawn needed to do something nice for the girl who had been kind enough not to cuss him out for being inexcusably rude to her.

“Where are you going?" He asks before he could stop himself. His head cocked to the side, his eyes shifting from the ground to the unknown girl. He barely knew her, hell, Shawn didn’t even know her name, but his heart stopped and he could barely breathe when she decided to leave.

She looked up in wonder, observing him with slight worry in her eyes, another thing he found endearing.

“I have that exam in an hour. Gotta get to my bus on time.” She shrugged, giving him a tiny wave as a means to say goodbye.

Shawn needed more time with her. He needed to talk to her, to get to know her, to at least find out her name. For some reason he couldn’t even fathom, Shawn felt drawn to this stranger, this girl who didn’t seem to know or give a damn about who he is. She is the type of people he surrounds himself with – people who are grounded and will keep him human. He wouldn’t admit to it, but she was also a beauty he couldn’t part with for reasons not of the mind, but of the heart. He knew it wouldn’t be a smart idea to get involved with someone now, not when he was under contract to be with someone else and so publicly.

However, when she made a move to leave, Shawn had to react before his heart completely stopped.

"I'm guessing you need a ride?" His voice was soft-spoken and mellow, sending a warm glow throughout Y/N’s body.

"Taking the bus won’t kill me, but thanks for the offer." Y/N smiled, waving at the café’ window. Shawn grabbed a twenty and left it on his table quickly, pointing at it in hopes of someone coming out to take the money for he had no time to pay for it right now. Shawn had decided to get in his car and chase after the girl who had started her walk to the nearest bus station, her determined walk noticeable and distinctive.

“You said you’ve been working all night, right?” He talked loudly, needing her to hear him, as if she could miss a car like his slowing down beside her or the doe-eyed guy nearly shouting at her through his open window.

“Yeah. So?” She stops, crossing her arms over her chest, uncertainty in her eyes. She looked at Shawn with such confusing emotion that he could hardly breathe when he allowed himself the luxury of staring into her eyes. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she knew him for years, that they have history, that they’ve met in a previous life. The look in her eyes and the feeling he’d get in his heart when he’d meet her gaze? It felt like more than two strangers talking.

“Don’t want to fall asleep on the bus and miss your stop, now do ya?” Shawn tried, unsure how to convince her to let him drive her.

“I’d also prefer not to be killed by the seemingly kind stranger who offered me a ride.” She cocked an eyebrow, starting to walk again which forced Shawn to press down on the gas pedal lightly.

“My name’s Shawn and I promise I’m not a killer, just a big supporter of education who has nothing better to do than help a girl who looks like she could use a kind gesture after a hard night.”

Y/N stops again, rolling her eyes at the sky before letting out a deep breath she didn’t know she was holding. Was it wise to get into a car of a man she knew for less than an hour? A handsome stranger that could easily turn out to be a Ted Bundy she found herself attracted to?

Definitely not wise, she thought as she opened the passenger door and sat inside.

"Cute name." she smiled shyly.

“I’m Y/N.” She tells him, putting on the seatbelt before looking into his whiskey brown eyes.

“Your name is cuter.” Shawn’s crooked smile made her heart flip. The wind gently brushed his curls as he kept his window open, the breeze grazing his face, almost soothingly.

This is what he needed though, some adventure. Some risk. Some danger. Giving a ride to a girl he met didn’t constitute as adventure, risk or danger, but being seen doing so? Definitely.

She types in the location in his GPS, leaning back in her seat as the radio fills the silence. Nearly choking on his own saliva, Shawn changed the song he had recognized just by the first few beats, before Senorita could blast through the speakers.

“So, uh…what kind of music do you like?” Shawn asked awkwardly, feeling her gaze upon him not a second later. It’s as if being set on fire, but not in the way it hurts the skin, rather puts the soul on a path worth taking.

“Classical mostly. Old rock music too.” She responds, receiving a hum from Shawn in response. He relaxed visibly, knowing there’s a much lesser chance that she’d know he’s Shawn Mendes if he’s not what she usually listens to.

“You seem like a pop-rock kind of a guy.” She assumed, lifting her left eyebrow quizzically, waiting for him to agree or deny.

Shawn couldn’t hold himself back from smiling widely, nodding before sparing her a quick glance. “Nice guess.” He adds, noticing her cheeks redden, not nearly as bad as his, but enough to know she’s not indifferent.

“So, you’re a med student or a method actor?” Shawn chuckled, catching her playfully rolling her eyes at him and his stomach flipped at the gesture. She looked cute even annoyed with him and he knew he’d love to annoy her for a really long time if she’d let him.

“First one would be right!” She exclaimed, pressing her lips together as she turned to the side, looking out the window instead of him.

“That’s pretty impressive! Beauty and brains? It’s every man’s dream.” Shawn told her honestly, at least from his perspective. He had already found himself on her hook, wanting more and more all the while knowing he’ll soon have to leave her at the university and in less than a month, he’d leave the continent as well.

“You might be the only guy thinking that. It feels the day I started med school, I signed some invisible contract where I was doomed to be lonely and friendless. I never have time for friends or relationships. When I’m not in class, I’m working or studying. If I do have free time, I’m usually exhausted to the point of just curling up and watching Netflix. Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it.” She bit her lip, eyes everywhere but on Shawn.

She didn’t know why she told him this, something she’d been carrying around on her shoulders for so long. She barely knows him, yet Shawn just oozes good vibes and trustworthiness that she couldn’t help herself. It’s been a while since she had someone to be genuine with, so what’s the harm in oversharing with a stranger she’ll likely never see again?

“If you’re passionate about something, it will often demand you abandon all else. There will be times where you’ll wonder why you ever did it, why you’ve made such a decision as if you didn’t know it would be like this…you did, I know you were aware it would be hard and let me tell you, all the good things in life are hard and demand sacrifice and once you’ve got it, you’ll be reminded just why you chose it. Something happens and you’re reminded and you’ll be back in the right mindset.” Shawn tightens his hold on the steering wheel, aware he’s telling himself the same.

He’s lost the passion he used to have for music in the circus his team imposed on him and now he’s here, in the car with a girl he just met yet felt so incredibly connected to in comparison to the girl he’s supposedly dating that it was hard not to feel like life turned on him.

When he started writing music and playing it live, Shawn never realized how fake the public persona he’d have to create would be. He always thought musicians had free reign to be who they are, to enjoy life, but he’s received a cold shower of pure facts in the past year and he’s still struggling to come to terms with it.

“I really hope so.” She smiled, reaching out for his hand. She laid her palm gently on the back of Shawn’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before removing it quickly.

“I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of bummed we’re already here.” Shawn sighed as he parked, looking over at the girl he wanted to stay more than ever. She wasn’t a stranger anymore, not even close. In his world, the rule states you’re no longer strangers if you’ve:

A) gotten drunk together

B) had a heart to heart.

“Bet you say that to all the strangers you give a lift to.” Her lips pulled to the left into a crooked smile, one Shawn wanted to make wider, brighter.

“Just ones I really like.” Shawn countered, smiling as well. It’s hard to resist a smile when she’s got her angelic lips spreading into the smile he wanted to see.

“You like me, eh?” She teased, coyly lifting an eyebrow as she lets her lips pucker.

“Never denied it.” Shawn raised his hands in a mock surrender, chuckling.

Then he moves closer with those eyes that look so deeply into her own, as if he could see who she is underneath all the layers she’s created to protect herself from the hurt. It’s like he sees her soul, the real Y/N and never in her life had she felt seen like she did with Shawn. He made her feel like she’s the only girl in the world and she knew then she’d never find that gaze in any other man’s eyes, never such intensity, raw emotion and understanding.

“As long as we’re clear on that.” She smirked, moving away slightly, not ready for what his eyes were telling her.

“Are you feeling better about the exam now? About everything? Because I meant what I said. You’ll be okay, even if it feels otherwise.” Shawn decided to diffuse the situation, the tension growing too fast for her to be comfortable with it, he could tell.

“About the fact that I’m not sure if I’ll ever find love or be the girl a guy would go to the ends of the world for?” She shrugged, chuckling dryly.

It’s much easier to make fun of what bothers her than face it head on. She’s been feeling so lost for such a long time that her coping mechanisms weren’t quite something most people are used to. But Shawn? He doesn’t even blink at her darkness. He doesn’t look away or shows he’s tired of her already. He doesn’t push her away for being so gloomy, he’s doing the opposite. He listens as if her words are golden, some elixir he's been waiting all his days to hear.

From what he says next she can tell he is thinking so deeply, already with a strategy that's several moves ahead of her. And in his words is a kindness, a concern that is so quick that, for him, it is natural. This attentiveness is a part of who he is and that is the most attractive feature Y/N’s ever seen in a man.

“You are though. I’ve known you for an hour and I’m already thinking just how badly I want to take you out and shower you with affection. You’re so beautiful, so raw, so fucking oblivious to your qualities that it makes me both angry and stubbornly certain that I want to change your view of yourself.” Shawn takes her hand in his, clasping it between his palms as his left hand, the one with a swallow tattoo, closes over hers. A tattoo like that would be hard to forget.

“I’ve found out that you’re intelligent, hardworking, ambitious, funny in a nonconventional way, incredibly brave for setting out on this journey, extremely good and devoted to helping humanity one person at a time, caring and you think of others even when you don’t have to. You were kind to me when I wasn’t to you, honest and open with your heart and mind…And that’s all within an hour of knowing you. And I desperately want more as creepy as it may sound.” Shawn’s words have made her eyes gloss over and she couldn’t stop herself from chuckling too.

When a woman’s sure she’s destined to be alone and that her perfect man isn’t real and then finds him when she’s given up on the notion – it’s a shock to the body. His smile alone burnishes her soul into a beauty it could never have achieved on its own. Before they met, both Shawn and Y/N were one, now they’re each a half, yet somehow so much more than they ever were before.

“I’m really glad I met you, Shawn. It’s truly an honor.” She managed to say before she leaned in so swiftly he had no chance to even move. Her lips brushed his for no longer than a moment, a single breath yet long enough to make him crave more, so much more. Just as quickly as they warmed his heart, her lips were gone and so was she.

He watched her walk away, her head bent as she stared at her shoes in thought, his heart slamming against his ribcage helplessly. He’d have ran after her, but he couldn’t afford some of the students recognizing him and snapping a photo. He couldn’t risk the world knowing he was living a lie, dating Camila on paper but already in love with a woman he was destined to fail in the long run.

Shawn should have let Y/N become a sweet memory he’d return to when the nights became too cold, too lonely to brave on his own. He should have let it be a fantasy, but he couldn’t. Whether he wanted it or not, Shawn was drawn to the same café the very next morning, hoping to run into the medical student who had captivated him.

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