#i have every intention of wearing rings but they keep getting in the way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

suguann · 1 month

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FUCK IT, I WANT YOU—JJK MEN. * ˚ ✦

✎. jjk men who are infatuated with you. | wc. 2.4k+

tags. fem!reader, bsf sister, cockwarming, slightly rough sex, best friends to lovers, exhibitionism, breast f*cking, domestic nanami, pet names, praise, mild dark content, dubcon, stepcest, stuckage

featuring. gojo, higuruma, nanami, geto, sukuna

an. banner is from hare kon okawari | masterlist

↬ GOJO

He shouldn’t even entertain the thought of wanting you—somewhere in the world, there’s a book of rules that says you shouldn’t develop a crush on your best friend’s little sister.

It doesn’t stop him from letting you talk him into shopping (as if he’d ever tell you no) and watching you try on tiny, flowy sundresses that make his jaw ache, how he’s just on the side of too-weak for those low-scooped tops you’re always wearing whenever he’s at your house.

At first, Gojo wonders if you do it on purpose—the bashful smiles and bumping shoulders if he’s close by—but you’re painfully shy for that to be the case. It’s why a smirk tugs at his mouth after leaving love bites across your chest when he finally gets you alone in his room so that he might see the adorable little face you make as you try to cover them up afterward.

He has you perched in his lap on the bed with an arm wrapped around your waist to keep you rooted on his cock buried deep inside the hot-wet heat between your legs. His mouth sucks marks into your skin wherever he can reach, deep groans rumbling in his chest every time your pussy clenches down on him—a sweet reminder that he hasn’t let you move for a while.

“Toru, not there,” you squeak, fingers knotting in the hair at his nape to gently pull him away. “People will see.”

But he doesn’t listen as he rolls a nipple between his fingers, mesmerized by the sight of it pebbling into a tight peak—your thighs shaking around him when he pinches too hard.

“So fucking pretty,” he growls, biting his lip as he finally looks up at you. “Just let me play with them a bit more, and then I’ll fuck you. I promise.”

A white lie, but he’s done and said worse, and this isn’t that. This is him savoring a victory he never knew he had until you fluttered those long lashes and asked for a kiss.

You’re gasping and writhing, unable to do anything except sit there while he overstimulates you with his mouth and fingers. When he finally rolls you over onto your back, you’ve already cum twice, but that doesn’t stop him, greedy hips churning against yours and stealing another.

He sucks a nipple into his mouth, loving how you quiver underneath him, your soft socks slipping where they try to rest around his waist. “You’re so sensitive, huh, baby?” he rasps, nosing the soft swell of your breast as he crowds you underneath him.

You mewl out a broken version of his name, hot pants against his neck that make you sound so desperate—not really answering him as your nails bite into his shoulders—and he can’t get over the way you look right now, how you sound. He’ll never be able to go back to pretending that you’re Geto’s annoying little sister (as if he ever thought you were) as Gojo watches drool trail from the side of your mouth from how good he’s fucking you.

“Do you know how filthy you look right now?” he grits between his teeth. “Been thinking about this for so long—fuck—can’t believe I finally get to have you.”

↬ HIGURUMA

It’s an accident the first time it happens.

You’re at the beach, playing with him in the water, when a wave hits you and washes your bikini top away. You squeal, and because he’s your best friend and has always looked out for you, he doesn’t realize right away he used his hands to shield your bare breasts from everyone else on the beach—eyes round when Higuruma does.

It’s innocent—his intent—yet alarm bells are ringing in his ears.

He expects you to shove him away—you don’t. Instead, you give him a sweet smile with a soft, muttered thank you and let him carry you back to the towels.

He’s still reeling at how you fit perfectly in his palms, skin against skin in a way he’s only ever shamefully imagined alone with his fist around his dick. It has him shifting his trunks uncomfortably, and he wants—no, needs (a definite need) more.

Higuruma spreads you out on your towel under the canopy of the large beach umbrella, the shirt he gave you pushed up and held out of the way under your chin as you watch him. His shoulders block out anybody from really seeing how he’s teasing your nipples into his mouth—your fingers digging into the hair at his nape to keep him there.

He never thought he’d get this far after years of watching you dance around the periphery of his life without ever really being his. How seeing you like this—whimpering his name under your breath, eyelashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks, and grinding onto his thigh pressed up between yours—only ever existed in a fantasy or two.

There’s nothing to do but watch as the lines of an eight-year friendship crumble into the sand with your soft squeaks of more, and his low groans fuck, and he can’t bring himself to feel anything other than a small flame doused in kerosene.

If this is the sacrifice for holding you and whispering sweet nothings into your sweat-slick skin, he’ll gladly burn.

He’d keep you like this forever if he could, and the way you look at him, pleading with your eyes, makes him think you’d let him if he asked (or maybe he wouldn’t have to).

He releases your nipple and smiles when your shirt falls from your teeth with a whine, your foot stomping against the towel in a way that’s too fucking cute.

“Why’d you stop?”

All the blood and heat in his body rush to his dick at how needy you sound—for him, all for him—and his breath fans across your spit-slick skin shakily, pent up and overflowing with nerves he’s held onto for as long as he can remember. “Sweetheart, you have to be quiet.”

You nod eagerly, your grip tightening in his hair to bring him back towards you. “Okay. Okay. I’ll be quiet. Just please don’t stop.”

Never.

When your leg brushes the tent in his trunks, it feels like his eyes roll into the back of his head from the contact. He greedily takes your tight, sensitive peak back into his mouth again—hardly paying attention to the wanton moans you fail to suppress as you continue grinding onto his thigh.

↬ NANAMI

Nanami stares at you more often than usual after you have his son—at how your chest fills out every top you wear, and your hips become the perfect place for his hands—a strange new obsession that develops overnight without a manual or an off switch.

One day, you’re his beautiful wife. The next, you’re his beautiful wife holding his baby, and suddenly, he’s seeing the world through a clear lens, and he can’t stop looking.

His hands are always on you just to curb the constant ache that never really fades, brushing hair out of your face, massaging your lower back, shamelessly letting them wander too close to the underside of your breasts whenever he can. Sometimes, he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, and sometimes it’s all he can think to do.

Some days, after a stressful work day, he’ll lay atop your chest and pepper kisses against whatever skin he can reach, wandering, eager hands getting their fill until he falls asleep. On other days, he stays up long enough—baby tucked away in his crib and the monitor softly humming on the coffee table—to peel your clothes out of the way to get the full picture.

“Just like that, darling,” he groans, watching where you’re kneeled between his legs, unable to take his eyes off the way his leaky tip peeks out from between your soft, bare breasts.

You stick out your tongue to lick away the pearl of white drooling out of his slit, only to spit it back onto his cock to help aid your up and down movements. It has him throbbing at how messy it is, liquid-hot heat pooling in his stomach at how good it feels. He knows he’s not going to last much longer, and he’s torn on whether or not to stop you or let you keep going.

“How does it feel?” you peer up at him through long lashes like you don’t already know what you’re doing to him.

“‘Good, darling. So fucking good—fuck, keep going—pretty little wife on her knees for me,” he curses, hips shuddering when he thrusts up, watching his length disappear and reappear again and again.

The delicate smile that adorns your lips makes his heart flutter, and balls draw up to his body. “Yeah? You gonna cum, Kento?”

“I don’t—I, fuck, yes.” He’d much rather finish with his face buried in your tits, but he’s already too far gone to pull away, to shove you down onto the couch.

You hum softly. “I want you to cum on me. Please.”

That’s his final undoing, groaning at the thought of him marking those cute tits that take up his every spare thought, cumming unexpectedly in a rush of white-hot pleasure before he can stop it. His cock jerks until viscous streaks of white paint your chest, and it makes everything sticky and sloppy, sending a weak burst of liquid pleasure rushing up his spine before he slumps against the couch with a satisfied sigh.

↬ GETO

He loves it when you’re like this. Soft and pliant beneath him, eyelashes spiked with tears.

He doesn’t know where to look—can’t decide between the smattering of possessive marks littering the inside of your thighs or the ones that travel across your chest.

A decision easily made for him when he presses the tip of his sensitive cock back into your fluttering cunt, unable to tear his eyes away from how your breasts bounce with every one of his harsh, desperate thrusts. His thumb smooths over a peaked nipple—bitten raw and pinched tight—and he curses under his breath at the feel of you clenching on him like a vice.

You tell him how good he feels under a hitched breath, and his chest tightens because he can’t remember the last time someone used an adjective like that to describe him. Good. It’s weird how such a simple word can make Geto’s head spin and make him feel like anything other than the man he is outside your bed.

He ducks his head down to suck another little bruise right above your nipple, the corners of his mouth curling slightly, knowing that he’ll be the only one that’ll know it exists.

“Prettiest fucking girl I know,” he breathes harshly, already close. “I wish you could see how perfect you look.”

Geto slips his fingers between you, playing over the tiny, sensitive bud at the peak of your thighs.

“Oh.” A soft sigh.

“Maybe I should take a picture, huh? Would you let me? So I can look at you like this,” —he thrusts deep, making sure you’ll be able to feel him afterward— “all damn day, every fucking day.”

And like a tightrope snapping loose, you fall apart around him, practically choking his cock, and he fills up your cunt for the second time that night.

↬ SUKUNA

You're cleaning the apartment you share with your step-brother until it's spotless because the guy you’ve kind of had a crush on since the start of the semester is coming over today to study, and the butterflies in your belly tell you today is the day he’s finally going to ask you out.

What you don’t anticipate—between throwing away Sukuna’s collection of energy drinks on the coffee table and doing a load of laundry—is the possibility of getting stuck in the too-small dryer while reaching for a sock or that your brother would be the one to find you bent over with your shorts riding up your legs.

You suppress a groan at the sound of Sukuna's patronizing voice behind you. "What do we have here?"

"Don't just stand there, idiot," you hiss. "Help me."

He chuckles in that mean, condescending way that always sets your teeth on edge. "You're really bossy for someone with their ass hanging out of a dryer. Maybe I should leave you here and wait for Mick—”

“His name’s Mitch—”

“—to find you."

"No!" you say almost too loudly, wincing as your voice echoes around the dryer. With a small sigh, your head hanging, you add, "Please help me."

"That's better."

It's quiet for a moment, and you start fidgeting again to free yourself until you feel a pair of large hands palming your hips, and you can't stop the squeak that escapes the back of your throat—not expecting the terrible-hot-wrongness of it to feel so good.

A feeling stirs in your belly that you’d tucked away long ago, and only returning to under the safety of the baby blue twinkle string lights in your room—hand in your sleep shorts and teeth digging an imprint into the palm of your hand to hold back the name you only chant in your head.

“You’re s-supposed to be helping,” your voice wavers, dizzy with what’s transpiring in that cramped laundry room.

He huffs a soft laugh behind you, pressing a kiss to the base of your spine where your shirt rode up. “Give me a minute.”

It's embarrassing when you feel wetness pooling in the seat of your underwear, heat rushing from the roots of your hair and down to your toes when his hands travel over the swell of your ass in your tiny shorts.

You're almost compelled to tell him you’ll get out on your own because it’s the right thing to do—to put a stop to something that shouldn’t happen except in cheap porn. Then his hand comes down against your backside, hard, and every single thought in your head scrambles like an egg on hot pavement.

You whimper, the force of his slap jolting you further into the dryer, sweaty hands scrambling against the metal walls to keep your face from crashing into it.

"Fuck, I've always wanted to do that,” he breathes before tugging the crotch of your shorts and panties out of the way, and you feel something wet and slick drip against your cunt. "Maybe I'll just keep you here for a bit. What do you say, sis?"

His thumb runs along your slit and presses inside you.

“Ah. W-wai—”

“Shh. Just—fuck, so fucking tight—just let me enjoy this pussy, huh?” And quieter, “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

You shiver and swallow around the words threatening to escape: me, too.

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diejager · 4 months

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More Wolfie plz🥺? Idk what you’d right but I love the universe you built up with it and would love more of it, even if it’s just a sliver

Training Cw: smut, training, collar, ring gag, doggy style, creampie, unprotected sex, PinV, fingering, tell me if I missed any.

“What did I tell you about growling, pup?” He sounded so demeaning, his hand laid heavy on your nape, holding your face down and away from the two men in the room with you.

Ghost had pulled you to Price’s office under the guise of this being training, wanting to work through your aggression you’d thrived on while living in the wild. You were jerky and a biter, baring your teeth after a low growl, threatening to sink into someone’s hand or arm as retaliation. They were getting a lot of complaints from people who would approach you and attempt to pet your ears and tail, wanting to touch the softness of your washed fur and disregarding your personal space and boundaries.

“None of that,” his grip tightened around your neck when your throat rumbled, a growl slipping through your gagged mouth, drool rolling down your cheek.

They gave you a pretty, black ring gag, placed behind your teeth to keep your mouth open from biting them and showing off your sweet and fiery mouth. The black leather looped behind your head, a thin strap connecting it to your collar, a smooth, black leather that sat comfortably around your neck without irritating it, but thin enough for you to feel everything. They had you wear it as a sign of possession, the silver insignia of their Task Force hanging from the front, a skull and winged sword proudly gleaming under the light wherever you go.

You mellowed down, growls quieting to loud pants, exhausted from your skirmish with Ghost, doing your best ignore your Captain’s rough handling, his calloused fingers kneading the flesh of your hips and stomach, his hands smoothing over the arch of your back to your tail. Your fur was matted and wet, dirtied with slick that - prior to being forced into this position - pooled down your rim and wetting your soft fur. You’d long given up in fighting Price, he was much stronger than you and smelled of power and strength —like alpha. He was the leader of your little pack, a fiercely protective leader who had every intent of putting his group first, but it was his scent that made you stop. He smelled of strong musk, a heady scent of cigar and cedar, less smoky and sweet than your Lieutenant’s sandalwood that kept flooding your sensitive nose.

“Good pup, you’re doing so well,” Price cooed, running his fingers through your hair, scratching the reactive nerve behind your ears. It made you whine, a high sound that had both of them shush you, “That’s it, you’re all right, pup.”

Your panting grew louder, mewls slipping out as a final sign of submission, letting them bend your body to their pleasure. You arched your back, bucking against the bearded man that was ploughing into you, driving his hard cock into your wet cunt, slick squelching out of you with every snap of his hips, his balls slapping your twitching clit. You couldn’t deny how good it felt to give up all autonomy after having taken care of yourself on your own for years, letting another care for you and manhandle you in the best way. His veined girth laid heavy in your cunt, your gummy walls wrapped round him in a tight hold, just a hair away from coming.

Canting his hips and leaning forward, your world exploded in bright lights when Price’s head tapped your cervix, punching the air out of your body with every thrust. He was guiding you through your orgasm just as he had his, his cock throbbing and veins pulsing before the tip spurted ropes of cum, painting your walls white with his tangy lad, hot and thick. Price groaned lowly, palms holding your hips flushed to his, giving a few jerky thrusts before he hilted inside of you, unmoving but grounding you with the smooth touch of his thumb and Ghost’s grip on your scruff.

When he pulled out, his cum oozed out of you, dripping down your mound and landing on the old couch in his office. He admired the gift with a slight twitch of his cock, it leaked out of you like an unending fall. Wasteful, truly. His fingers slid down your thighs, gathering his cum and pushed it back in, fingering his load with a few wet sounds.

“Stay good for Ghost, pup. Can you do that?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake

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doublekanble · 2 months

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deer (in a head light)

Alastor/reader (gnc)

platonic-romantic. (almost everyone thinks you two are in love or is extremely baffled by the fact, a bit more romantic for me but can be seen as anything actually i just like writing people being sort of stupid)

word count: 5.6k.

or, collectively, everyone's reaction to the fact. Nifty is there👍. no real warning this is a normal fic part two to this.

Husk have never gone through this level of raw mental torture, while Angel thinks it’s absolutely hilarious how hard is it for Husker to accept that one of the most feared Overlord of all Pride Ring is vying for a cute lil fella like you. What started out as a small remark over the rim of a particularly strong cup of gin about how Alastor have been seemingly hovering around you, making small talks that you try to keep up with confused enthusiasm - soon turn into listing off every growing instances of odd affections that no one ever thought he’s capable of, but it’s yours in abundance.

You’re standing up with the intention of going outside? Unless he’s actively in a conversation (and several time, even during one) Alastor will find a convenient excuses to walk with you. You’re cold? Everyone else better be cold too, either that or hope to God he have anything to give you to wear. Hungry? Thirsty? Almost like a caretaker, he’s always making sure you have little bites of food and drink here or there, reminding you like clockwork. Staying in your room for the day? Your room is close to Angel, and the first time he come out of his room, fresh from a hangover, only to catch the tail end of a red coat and a greeting disappearing behind your door, it takes everything in him to try and rationalizing not breaking the door down.

(Husk thinks he was being overprotective. Angel brushed it off with a nervous chuckle. It’s a good thing, he remarks, if only Angel kept that attitude.)

The idea of Alastor actually taken interest in anyone, even positively, send shivers down his spine. Husk have been one of the older soul that fell into the hand of the sadistic Overlord, one that did just enough to keep his earn and do what he want when Alastor would’ve gotten busy with a new project or two. He knows he’s useful enough to Alastor, even with the occasional slipped up, learning quickly where to tread and where to back down. The Radio demon is insane, but he is surprisingly much more lenient with people than he often let on, but not as much as he is with you.

Which quickly became a thorn that Angel uses to dug into his side. Old battle-worn Husk cannot wrap his head around the fact that you, of all people in Hell, somehow get back on Alastor good side and stays there for longer than anyone thought you could.

You are more than bearable, don’t get him wrong. Good at reading and picking up on certain cues to pleased people (more particularly, the fact Husk likes to be alone most of the time), and in spite of being just a tad bit too stubborn at times, is generally a polite and entertaining thing to have around. It would’ve made sense for Alastor to wants to keep you for fun, if not for how you two started out.

Having missing out on your first introduction, all he have to go off of is your debrief of it on the one day you want to try whiskey. You’d damn near spat it out, opting to just sit with some soda instead (he didn’t try to poke too much, you’re almost like a pop-up pirate at time). Husk figured you would earn the ire of the most egotistical man he’d ever known, considering how you loudly asked Charlie for Alastor's resume as a way to try and barred him from working here.

Of course, that didn’t work, both you and Vaggie are long-time victims of Charlie convincing puppy gaze, and Alastor secured him and Nifty a spot at the hotel. But Husk was extremely adamant it would put you on a black book with Alastor, still remembering how Alastor grip on his cane would tighten just a bit whenever you spoke up on the first day. And yet, you get to laugh about it.

“Yer just bein superstitious kitten. At this point ‘m pretty sure dude just got the hots for them, nothing big.” Angel fiddles with his phone on one set of hand, the other propping himself on the bar counter, holding a popsicle to his mouth. He wants to tell the spider that’s absolutely not how the word superstitious should be use, but he digressed. “We’ve been at this for days, if he gonna do something, we would’ve known.”

Husk scoffed, throwing the piece of cloth he’s been using to furiously wiping down a stain someone left on the counter over his shoulder.

“Yeah right, as if you can get your head out of your ass enough to see that.” He ignores Angel smirk, already knew where this can go if he let it, almost like a whisper, he spat. “I’m just saying, he ain’t the Radio demon for show. You lots know nothing about whatever he got planned in his shitty fucked up head.”

Forced contractor be damn, this bar is his pride and joy, or whatever’s left of it anyway.

At that, Angel sends his attitude right back, hand(s) flickering, “And I’m saying he’s head over heels. What? Ya wanna explain the fucker just- casually waltz up to them and kissin' their fucking hand as a morning greeting? Cus’ I’m calling bullshit. Nobody even doing that fucking thing anymore, and he’s doin’ it every chance he gets! Like, have you even seen them?!” Almost like a comedy setup, they both look over to the chattering at the top of the stairs.

Over the railing, you’re rushing off from Alastor’s side to catch up to Nifty, who’s desperately nagging you to come and help her with a spot she can’t dust off with a ladder, having long depleting the fun of falling off from it. And almost like instinct, he took your hand and planted a gentle peck, along with a well wish for your day.

You, with your other hand occupied and being dragged away too fast after the fact for you to formulate a real respond, simply perks up and laugh, waving at him before you fully give into the little bug-like demon and let her rushed the both of you to the other side of the hotel – Alastor stands and watch you fully disappearing behind a corner before turning his head and look directly at the pair. His mic sounding nothing except for a low drones of static.

Husk expertise kicking in, he looks straight ahead instead, wiping down the counter again just to be safe. Angel’s years of acting led him to immediately start talking about the latest project he’s involved in, popsicles stick held from his face. Husk can’t be too bothered by it this time, at least he’s reading the room. But even with their combined effort, it still doesn’t stop Alastor from manifested himself right by the bar, smiles almost pull taut, a too jolly “How is it going gentlemen?” and a request for a cup of moonshine, with a tune contorting just to sound much too whimsical for anyone else except him echoes from his microphone, and he’s off again.

“…y’know, you can just say you’re sorry for being wrong Whiskers~”

“Go fuck yourself.”

-----

Vaggie knows that no matter how much she tries to warn Charlie about the cannibal murderer in their own cozy hotel, her partner can and have constantly willed it away with loving words and cute beady eyes that she can’t fight against. Her loving and trusting nature always been the tried-and-true counter to Vaggie’s much more doubtful and skeptical side. Recalling the way you refer to it (two people working in harmony, balancing out each other’s nature, like a tango, a secret rhythm unknown to anyone but them), she smiles.

It dropped the moment she remembers the matter at hand, specifically, you, a friend that have grown dear to her heart, and the cannibal murderer she very much hated guts - growing close to yours. She’s not sure whether this qualifies for a tango when she’s dragging her feet and Charlie’s tap dancing.

Vaggie would’ve been glad you have virtually zero comment on the fact Alastor is getting close to you, and with her luck, purposefully ignoring it (what’s with you and dive bombing out of the conversation the moment the topic came up), if not for the fact Charlie is very insistent on letting you know all about it (=> conversation you have to dive out of). You and Vaggie traded favors all the time, exclusively about Charlie, who always try to bite off a bit more than she can chew.

Usually, you did a much better job on keeping Charlie from trouble than Vaggie actually can, having the heart she lacks to guilt her partner into keeping still or stop her from running into red light traffic. Yet a pattern emerges soon after this deal started that you three all pick up on, much to Charlie’s delight.

Somehow, some way, Charlie aged old puppy dog eyes are much, much more effective when the both of you are right next to each other. Alone, while Vaggie can’t turn her down, you can and have consistently do so. But together, you both would turn to each other, and you either would give into Charlie first, or wash your hand completely from the whole situation altogether, both decisions are equally awful, and often left Vaggie alone on the line of defense.

Like that time you asked for the Radio demon resume, being extremely firm on his demeanor being horrible for customer service and how unfit it would be for a hotel to house someone who clearly doesn’t want to help or be help. Vaggie remember the chills running up her spine as you stand firmly in the face of the greatest mystery to Hell even after all this time and not even batting an eye to his straining words or the implications of it. Even going so far as to point out that he’s a liability and can’t keep himself straight for anything worth the hotel’s effort.

Only for Charlie to held onto your (and Vaggie’s) hand and tell you both she can do this. She remembers it took you not even 5 second to turn towards her with a wistful gaze, a smile pulls on your lips, and put a hand on her shoulder.

Aside from her first real injuries, it was the biggest betrayal she’d ever gone through.

Vaggie like to think it doesn’t sting so badly that her partner and her friend are now growing more used to the giant red flag stalking their halls. If not also for the fact she have to be in on your effort of stopping Charlie from bringing up a weird line of conversation while you still - albeit not fully of your own volition - feeding into her girlfriend delusion of being a matchmaker. It wouldn’t be so hard if you just, try to at least calm Charlie down yourself, but your tendencies to avoid particularly specific conversation makes her boomerang from appreciation to pure exasperation.

Especially when she would be fighting her love for Charlie to keep your dignity intact.

“But Vaggiee…!” clinging onto her left arm, Charlie tries her best to bring her girlfriend’s eyes back to her. “Just look at them! They’ve never looked at anyone like that!”

She would love to argued otherwise, you have a habit of looking at everyone like that, something with making people feel more welcome to talk to you. But all thought vanished from her head when she turns to try and make an argument, and for a brief moment she forgot what they were talking about. Charlie’s good at distracting her, but she steeled herself and stop Charlie from jumping off into this and making it so much harder on you than it already is.

(God, the things Vaggie’d do for love.)

“I know you really want to, hun, but - I’m just, not sure about this. It’s Alastor we’re talking about. I get them being into him or whatever, but you’d really set them up with the Radio demon? You know…”

Charlie was slowly wilting a bit, but picks herself up at the hesitation, thinking it’s her chance, she races over her words. “A thoughtful, charming and-“

But still can’t finish fast enough, and Vaggie have to advert her eyes, she can’t handle a sad Charlie that well. “and a horrible cannibalistic freak, Charlie. He’s not a good person.” At that, her girlfriend really clings onto her.

“Vaggie…this is a hotel for redemption! We've got to believe that people can change…” Charlie’s not addressing her point, there’s no real way to denying the fact Alastor is really just who he is. A rotten, rancid piece of meat. Redemption be dammed when he doesn’t even believe in it. “And! I have proof that Alastor likes them~” Pulling out little drawn post-it-notes from her front pocket, Charlie nearly doubled over while trying to put all of them onto the table in front of Vaggie, and you.

“I’m going to go back to my room.” You abruptly stand up, nervously grinning while shuffling out of their office. Having sat completely stilled while hoping that you can somehow divert the topic ever since the start of the conversation, you gave up. Completely disregarding Charlie’s attempt at making you stay. “It’s late, and I should’ve been in bed some hours ago…”

“Wait! I swear that this time I-“ Charlie tries to reach for you again, but Vaggie held strong. Nodding towards the exit, you mouthed her a quick thank you as you walked out, wishing them both good night while gently pushing the doors close. “I have the proof…”

“C’mon babe…” visibly deflating, Charlie sat herself back into Vaggie’s arms with a pout. She doesn’t have the heart to press this too deeply, so she pushed back her hair and give her a small peck on her eyelid, she always did have pretty eyes. “You know they’re not going to listen to you if you keep ambushing them like this.”

“I know, but I just- really love them both…” Vaggie raised an eyebrow at that. “And they seem so, nice together. Alastor always makes sure to greet them every day, they always wished him goodnight-“ she scoffed.

“They do that for everyone hun, and I’m pretty sure that bastard just do it because…well, who knows? He’s weird, who knows what he’s thinking…maybe he’s just trying to- toot his own horns playing nice. He does that a lot.”

When Charlie stays still, Vaggie really thought she could end this tonight, for both your sake and her’s. But then, as if was given water from the spring of life, with her back straight, she sat right up and held firmly onto Vaggie shoulders.

“But he’s trying so hard for them! Don’t you see how he’s spending so much time just hanging around them? Oh, and don’t forget that he asked them, specifically them, what they think of his radio show! He doesn’t do that for anyone else Vaggie! He brings them food when they forgot to eat. They told him about stuff they would’ve ever tell us without prompting! And you have to see the way he looks at them when they’re just, sit together and, and-“

“Woah. Slow down Char. Through your nose.” Even like this, she’s endearing. She held Charlie’s arm and bring her closer.

“You have to see Vaggie, he looks at them like…how you look at me!” Vaggie pauses. Charlie is getting to her, she have to stop her from talking or she’ll give in. She thinks about how miserable you would be sitting through an actual talk about this, it doesn’t help.

“And, you’re one of the most wonderful things that happens to me, Vaggie. I love everyone in the hotel, and I would give my everything for them,” knowing her, she would “but you.” She breathes, and Vaggie feels her breath stuck in her throat. “You are my everything. We’re perfect together. And I really love them, and I just thought…”

Charlie looked at her with such a soft and gentle look, her eyebrows slightly drawn together, lips jutting out just a little bit. “I thought he’s perfect for them, that they’ll be perfect together too. I know he’s not the best person, and you don’t trust him. You don't have to. But I think he’s doing his best for them, and they’re doing so much for him too...” their hands, held tightly together “So please, trust me. I genuinely think this can work out. They deserve to be love like I did too.”

Vaggie tries so hard to held strong, opting to stay silent instead of replying and stoking the growing flame, but Charlie looks at her with her big shiny eyes, and she caved.

“…Alright… I guess he haven’t really…done anything to them yet…” before Charlie could jump up in joy, Vaggie tries to get her focus back “But if he touches a single hair on them- woah!”

Wrapped in her arms, Vaggie barely able to get out the full sentence as Charlie rambles on. “Oooh, thank you thank you thankyouthankyou I knew you’d understand! Oh there is so much I want to do too-“

“Charlie, bit too tight…”

“Oops! Sorry!”

Coming down from her high, she stares into her lover’s eye with the brightest grin possible. It takes everything in Vaggie to think about how disappointed you’ll be, so she closed her eye and takes a breath. “We have to let them sort it out themselves, though. No matchmaker.”

“But-”

“You know how closed off they can be. Give them time Charlie. They can find their own way home.” Like that, Charlie smiles a smile so bright and gentle, reserve only for Vaggie. “Like you and me?”

And all she can think is that this might not be that bad after all.

“Like you and me.”

----

“So...thissss is what the youth are…into?”

“Arguably, it’s somewhat better than what I have as a kid.”

Pentious squinted at the device in his hand, clawed hands carefully swipe through your ‘carefully curated feed’, whatever that means. You sat next to him on your balcony, various knick knacks on the side table he insisted you need, hands considerably less clawed holding a book you’ve never managed to get through past the 10th page, as you only ever try to read it when the moon is blue and you always ended up forgetting the previous pages, something he learned while he was helping with cleanups.

He’s flustered when you laugh at a joke without needing to look at the captions in the video, wanting to pretend he completely understood what just happened. It takes you a bit to calm down and explain to him what was so funny, it only serves to confused him further. You grin and handed your book over to Frank without putting a bookmark in first (who then immediately turns the page and started narrating half-way through to the other eggs), reaching for the phone.

“I’ll put on something a bit easier to get used to, is that ok with you?”

“But, aren’t we learning how to be ‘hip’?” you cackle, he tries not to shrink into himself.

“We can leave that for some other day i think, you don’t need to be hip or anything right now. And besides,” handing him your phone, he minded his claws, “I think you’re cool on your own.” You hum and turn to an open sketchbook on the table, picking up a pencil, you start to sketch one of the egg boiz running about your room.

Pentious nearly burst into tears, he should’ve known his friends (or, you) would’ve never made fun of him. Turning to your device again, his attention is immediately captured by a cat video.

You two stayed like that for what must’ve been an hour or two, occasionally checking up on what the other’s is doing. (he would show you the cutest video, you showed him your barely intelligible sketch. He feels like you’re sketching his nightmare he said, you’re flattered). With almost all of his eggies already tiring themselves out some time ago and gathered around both of your feet (and his tail), bundled up in your duvet and pillows. Except for egg boiz number 3, who’s in his lap as both are captured by a video of a dog getting a haircut (a mini-American shepherd, you chimed in happily that it’s one of your favorite video).

Then, the calm afternoon was broken by a singular knock to your door. You and your still cognizant companion(s) look up from your respective entertainment at hand and stare at each other. You glance over to him, head nodding towards the door, he shrugs, growing restless, you pat his shoulder as you stand up and walk away.

Pentious really did try to turn back and focus on the groomers narrating a particularly endearing moment in the nine minutes long video, but he can’t help but be on edge when a familiar voice sing a greeting too loud for him to ignore, and he realized just who is at the door, your door, his new best friend's door (verdict still out on whether you consider him as one).

Taking a peek, assuring to himself it’s to keep you safe, he locks eyes with red and half of his soul descend into the ring below, the other half turns him right back to your phone when the red starts to raise his eyebrows at him. He can keep you safe from a safe distance surely, but when he tries to hug the egg in his lap to comfort himself and feels nothing, he freezes. Horror-struck, he turns and look at you, specifically your back, the other half of his soul joins the first.

Without him realizing, number 3 already slipped out of his grasp and is now climbing on your shoulder and interjecting your conversation with the gentleman, who is now full-on glaring at him whenever your head slightly turn away. He gulped, but he still put your phone back onto the table and stand up, forget to mind his still sleeping minions at his tail. Thank Lucifer they decided to stay silent for once.

“I was just going to stay in tomorrow too… maybe- oh, Sir Pentious? What’s up?” You stare at him, easy-going as always. Almost like you’re unaware of the way Alastor is smiling at him. Pentious can only thank whoever is in charge of fate for the fact you slotted yourself right between them, and cursed them all the same for the fact you can’t covered up the demon’s face.

Clearing his throat, he tries to steered his nerves and curb his stuttering. “I see that someone have rudely interrupt our study session. May I have your permission to…”

At the sounds of radio static grows, his words in turns wilted as he stares into bright, glowing red and yellow growing in volume. Luckily, you manage to pick this up and covered for him. “Oh no don’t worry, Al was just asking when I’m free to hang out with.” As you turn to that same terrifying shade of red, it immediately transformed into a charming smile.

“Why, hangout is such a casual term dear. I prefer to call it a trip! Much more exciting that way.” With his usual theatrics delivery and a backing of voices coming from the microphone staff he uses to give you a gentle knock on the head, clashing with your much more casual tone brushing him off, Pentious wishes he can see this as endearing.

“Oh you’re trying to goat me into going back there again.” That wasn’t a question on your end. Alastor smiles in amusement, but it strained when number 3 chimes in and tries to asked you where is back there. He’s extremely grateful the demon chooses to ignore it, letting you entertain the egg instead.

“I do not know what you’re referring to at all.” Closing his eyes and leaning a bit to the side, the demon bounces a bit on the tip of his shoes and sings. “Otherwise, it seems my presence is making our welcomed guest uncomfortable.” Pentious tries to stand tall for you and number 3, but Alastor preference for getting up close and personal is mincing his confidence to bits. “I guess I will settle for an extra visit by tonight to talk a bit more about your hectic schedule, if that’s alright with you Ma chère?”

You laugh a bit and agrees with him, saying a quick sorry while he brushed it off with a smile, adjusting his coat’s flawless lapel with one hand, the other reaching for yours. Lifted up to his lips, he planted there a kiss with a look that can passed off as soft. Pentious looks away the moment their eyes lock again, whistling like he hasn’t been blanching at the two of you.

As you turn to close the door, he could’ve sworn red dials were looking at him in the seconds you look back to him, completely in contrast with the life-threatening aura now stand outside the door.

“Haha, sorry about that. I didn’t have time earlier and he was busy, so…” you trailed off, explanation offering him nothing but more questions. “I’ll try to be a bit more mindful about this next time, yeah? Didn’t know he still held something against you.”

You want to keep doing study sessions with him? He perks up a bit at the implication, while choosing to ignore the second part, until his egg started speaking.

“Uh, boss number two, why does Alastor kiss your hand so much?” Number 3 raises his hand, still sitting snugly in your arms. Pentious makes a note to make him sleep on the edge of the bed tonight. It doesn’t help that you’re leading them back to the others, who also started to chime in with their own questions. He can tell this time you’re getting a bit miffed, smiles growing a bit taut and looking off somewhere, unable to let them somehow ruin your goodwill towards him, he cracked. “SILENCE! Cease with your silly questions right now!”

You look at him, and he would’ve shrink into himself if not for how you seem more surprised than angry, as your brows relax and you smile a bit, he let himself breathe. “It’s alright, they’re cute, they can get away with a little questioning I think. And hm…” you bounce on your feet in a slightly familiar manner, he sweats a bit. “-I mean, it’s normal for friends to be close, so I don’t see any problem with it.”

“Oh…friends can kiss each other on the hand?” number 1 jump up. You laugh.

“Of course they can. Alastor loves getting into people’s space too, so I wouldn’t put it past him.”

He would’ve tried to say something and help you out with the questioning, but it hit him that at least in his time, the specific to the gesture was more of a formal greeting. But he takes into account the fact it's Alastor, and how whenever he sees you two together, the Radio demon always seemingly follows after your heels like a shadow tie too tightly, and he shivers. Anxiety fills his heart as he tries to navigate this thought.

“I do have to say, why is it that he tends to get so…closssse…to you?” You visibly stiffen at this, but as he takes your hand in his, trying his best to be tactful, still minding the claws, you stare. “Could it be…he’s trying to threaten you, dear friend?” he tries to recall how you comforts him in time of distress, and did his best to echoes the same sentiment to you.

“Whatever it is, you can share it to me! I will, uh- “

“You’ll duel him, right boss?”

his eggs chimes in where he falters, he follows their lead.

“Duel! Yesss! A duel to the death! That Radio bastard will regrets the day he-“ You squeeze his hand, and he drop his false bravado and let you seated him back on the balcony, letting number 3 dropped from his spot in your arms to the duvet covering the floor.

(with much less grace compared to you, but all the heart. he takes the fact you’re still around that he’s doing great.)

“We don’t need any of that silly. He’s my friend, I think.”

You fall back onto your seat, number 1 climb up to your lap with a question. “You two are friends? Like with boss?” sitting up, you sing an enthusiastic agreement while reaching for your notebook again. Pentious swore the sketch is looking more and more familiar by the line.

“Yeah, like with Sir Pentious! Al’s intimidating but he’s fun to hang around.” Hunching over while minding number 1 watching in your lap, your grin drops to something a bit kinder. He feels like he’s overstepping, despite the fact the room is void of anyone else. “He nice to talk with, I’ve never seen him shutting up on anyone else’s terms. That’s a good thing.” He wanted to say that’s a bit too barebone, even for himself, but then, turning to him with a smirk, you added. “Don’t tell him i said this, but he’s ssssuch a bitch sometimes. It’s fun though.”

Nodding with a much more serious look, Pentious takes your word as a command. “Not a word to my grave!”

“Hehe, that’s why you’re my favorite.”

Refocused on your sketch, you trust Pentious to be able to work your phone a bit better than before. He thinks he would’ve work it better if not for the tears gathering in his eyes, he takes the tissue paper you handed him without looking and wiped it away, only to panic about the long scratch he left on your screen. You laugh and assured him it’s fine, you can change the screen.

(verdict be dammed, you’re HIS best friend.)

(he took a peek at your sketch before you turn the page, and it hit him why it looks so off-putting. Antlers sprouting from two end on a figured too lanky to make out the physique of, but familiar enough all the same. He’d much prefer you go back to sketching his eggies, he said, you happily complied and he leave your room after with 5 torn note full of egg sketches and another schedule study session he pray you'll relay to Mister Alastor.)

---

“There you are darling! I was looking everywhere for you.” Calling out with joy, then stopping to take in the sight. He steadied you with one hand while you stop to catch your breath, nearly doubled into him. “I can see that you’re quite busy, seems like Nifty is giving you quite the run for your money huh!”

“Please…shut up…” you don’t need to look at him to know he’s enjoying this way more than you do, laughing at your utterly exhausted state. “I didn’t know there’s this much bugs in here… How can she even keep tracks of them??”

“Don’t feel too bad now, that one mind and health both are simply wonders to behold! Even I can’t keep up with her at times.” Trying to dust off your shoulders, he looked offended when you just swatted his hands away, waiting for an explanation.

“We’re not done yet, she’s just in the kitchen for a bit.” You pulled out your phone to check the time, Alastor squinting his eyes besides you, leaning over to keep watch and raising an eyebrow at the long scratch on the glass. “One hour before I’m free…”

“Thinking of giving up then~?”

“Yeah.”

Laughing at your tone, he takes your hand and twirl you, but not too much! Just enough daze you a bit. “Well darling, I would love to whisk you off with me for a trip downtown! I’m running low on good meat, and simply can’t afford to stained my coat while the tailor’s out of commission. But knowing you…” he’d look down-right sad if you let him. He can tell you try to keep your expression neutral, but your smile is growing to match his.

“No Al, an hour is-“

“An hour is an hour. Yes I know dear but it’s dreadfully boring without you.” Holding on still, he brings his face close to you, taking delight in the growing red on your face and you acting like nothing is out of the sort.

“You’ll survive Alastor. Nifty however…” As the sound of tiny footstep calling your name quickly approaching, he can’t help but letting a long, drawn-out sigh, backing off from you. A lost for him. You smile.

“Over here Nifty!” calling out to the little woman, you step away from Alastor to meet her half way, her stopping just before she hit your leg.

“You! I’ve been looking for you where have you been! I saw SOOOO many of them but they’re on the ceiling and I can’t reach them at all you've got to come help me – oh hiii Alastor!”

Nifty stops pulling you down the hall again just to give him a violent wave, dancing from one foot to the other and giving him time to catch up to you two, fully aware of your tradition from the moment it first started. Alastor smiles border on self-pleasing, gracious of Nifty’s effort to not drag you away just yet, less so the fact she would stares with such a wide grin. Nevertheless, he takes your hand again and bring it up, speaking all the while.

“Nifty, dearie, won’t you work our dear friend here a little less? I need them to-“ he pauses as you suddenly grip his hand and bring it up to your lips, too quick for him to stop you. And before he knew it, you both disappeared behind the corner yet again. Nifty voices and your cackle echoing down the empty hall way.

When he came back, aware of how the light flickering above his head now finally stabilizing itself, he laughs. Steadying himself, Alastor brushed off his coat and fix his monocle. Humming along with a love song slowly trickling from the microphone while walking the same way you and Nifty ran off to before. He have time to spare while waiting for you.

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oneshot #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin alastor #me writing this: i can do this in 2k #i wrote 4k in an afternoon and night and the rest is just me going back and forth like replaying in my head dialogue to checks how it sound #i need to draw more of him i need him carnally (he will splattered my guts on the floor)#that title could've actually been for a horror angst fic actually #one of these days i'll commit to writing an actual horror/yan fic im good at weird writing. maybe

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beyondthesefourwalls · 4 months

Text

Cowboy Resolutions

Summary: New Year’s Eve at the Hard Deck with all of your friends was a tradition, one that you loved and held close to your heart. When you and your husband decide to slip away from the crowd for a late night stroll on the beach right before midnight, you realize that neither of you had the purest of intentions when it came to wanting to get away.

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.8K Warnings: Smut with a dash of fluff, including shenanigans in public. Language.

---

You feel his arms wrap around you right before you hear his voice in your ear, low and husky and trying too hard to be sexy to actually be sexy.

“Hey there darlin. How about we be naughty together and save Santa a trip next year?”

You can’t help the snort you let out as you start laughing. Jake kisses your neck playfully before you turn in his arms to face him, chest pressed to his. You’re careful not to spill the drink you had just gotten. “If that’s how it works, I’m pretty sure we secured our spot on the naughty list on Christmas day a week ago, pretty boy.”

He wags his eyebrows dramatically, drawing another giggle out of you. “I think you’re right, beautiful. Several times, if I remember correctly.”

“On that note, I’m going to play pool before I vomit everywhere.”

You ignore Nat’s gag and loud proclamation; you don’t need to look at her to know that she rolled her eyes as she walked away from where the two of you had been chatting at the bar before your husband had interrupted.

“Well they say you’re supposed to bring in the year the way you want to spend it,” you tell him, and he hums thoughtfully.

“A year of amazing sex with my absolutely smokin’ wife? Screw the good list, where do I sign?”

His voice gets lower the closer he brings his face to yours, and by the last word, you can feel him speak against your lips. You grin into it when he finally kisses you. Despite the fact that every regular in the bar should be used to seeing your public displays of affection after years of it, cat calls still ring out over the sound of chatter and the jukebox. You roll your eyes while you pull away, but Jake’s shameless smirk is enough to soften your smile.

“Jealous fuckers,” he mutters, and you’ve gone through this enough to know he’s only joking. His eyebrows raise again and he lets his hand drift to slide over your butt, squeezing once through the material of your skirt. “Maybe we should really give them something to gawk out.”

You laugh at his familiar antics and shake your head. “Down, Cowboy.”

But you know that Jake's playful nature, one that not many people get to see, is one of the things you love most about him. His ability to make even the simplest moments feel special and exciting is what keeps the flame alive in your relationship, even after all this time.

“Aww, darlin. You’re no fun.”

“Careful now,” you tell him, linking your fingers through his and starting to make your way through the crowd to where your friends have gathered by the pool tables. You grin at him playfully over your shoulder, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Or you won’t get any kisses at midnight.”

The sound of Jake’s laughter was one of your favorite sounds in the whole world, and you let it surround you as you greet the group you considered family. New Year’s Eve at the Hard Deck was something you had done the last two years, and with this third occurrence, you thought it was a solidified tradition amongst you all. It’s nice, being able to have those now. You and Jake have moved around a handful of times in your relationship, never in one spot for long, but San Diego is somewhere you’re so glad to actually call home now. It’s something you were unbelievably grateful for - that, and these people who continuously brought so much joy into your life.

As the night wears on, the bar becomes increasingly crowded and lively. The music thumps through the speakers, blending with the laughter and conversations that filled the air. It’s when Bradley unplugs the jukebox and settles in at the old, worn piano by the bar that your husband links his fingers through yours, tugging lightly. You look over at him to see him tilt his head toward the general direction of the back door. You smile lightly, knowing what he’s asking without him having to utter a word, and you nod.

As you take a break from the crowded bar and step outside into the crisp night air, Jake wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Take a walk with me?” he asks, and you murmur your assent. You know that the heeled boots you’re wearing won’t mix well with the sand, so using him as an anchor, you bend to take them off. You sigh in relief once your toes hit the sand, feeling cool and refreshing through the barrier of your socks.

“Lead the way,” you smile.

The moon hangs low in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the ocean. He keeps you tucked into his side as you walk along the empty beach, the music and lights from the bar fading with every step. The chilly wind bites at your cheeks, but the warmth of the alcohol you had consumed and Jake's body keeps you cozy. If you weren’t always so in tune with his touch, you may have missed the way his hand progressively slid lower and lower on your back.

“I feel like you didn’t have the purest intentions with this walk,” you murmur. A shiver runs through you that has nothing to do with the breeze and everything to do with the sound of his low, deep laughter. It rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your side.

“Well, darlin’, you know me too well.” He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your temple. "Maybe I had a little ulterior motive," he admits, his voice laced with something. “What do you say?”

You giggle as he kisses down the side of your face, featherlight and intoxicating, and tugs lightly on your ear. “Here?”

“No,” he says, “there.”

He points, and through the darkness, you see the old lifeguard stand, unmanned this late at night, especially this far down the beach. His suggestion hangs in the air, thick with appeal and eagerness.

“Well,” you say after a brief moment of contemplation that really didn’t take long at all. You take a step away from him, your body automatically missing his warmth even as it thrummed with excitement. You shoot him a look that you know he recognizes by how his smile transforms. “I did say you should bring in the year the way you want to spend it, didn’t I?”

You take off in a run at the same moment he reaches for you, and you squeal with laughter as he chases you right to where he pointed earlier - right to where you want him now.

He presses you against the wooden structure once you both reach it, and without breaking stride, his lips are on yours. The kiss is slow and tantalizing at first, but soon enough, it deepens, and his tongue sweeps into your mouth in a familiar dance that leaves you breathless. He tastes like whiskey and the leftover mini candy canes you kept in your purse and your heart races. The sounds of the crashing waves and distant partying from the bar fade away as you sink into his embrace. You feel his other hand slide up your thigh, tracing slow circles on your skin. His touch is electric, making your body hum. Even the cool breeze nipping at your exposed skin isn’t enough to cool you down.

As he pulls back, breathing heavily, you run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness of it between them. His breath comes out hot against your lips as he whispers, "I love how responsive you are to me."

His mouth descends upon yours again. His hand moves higher, cupping your breast through your sweater, his fingers teasing your nipple through the fabric. Your response is instantaneous; you arch your back and groan, completely caught up in the moment. "How do you want it?" he asks, kisses trailing down your neck. You tilt your head to allow easier access to your throat.

"Jake," you moan. You clutch at him, one hand in his hair and the other wrinkling the material of his flannel shirt.

"Tell me, darlin'," he requests, commands, and you whimper as it's accompanied by a bite of your skin. "How do you want it? You want to climb up in the chair? Or you want me to take you right here against it?"

It was hard to think with the way he was touching you and the feel of his lips on yours. But you suddenly had the undeniable urge to ride him. The added bonus of being elevated off the ground like you would be, all the while being safe in your husband’s arms, sent a chill of excitement through you. “Up,” you breathe, pushing him away just slightly.

You’re both clumsy as you eagerly climb up onto the raised, wide seat. You hiss at the cold of the wood as your knees settle on either side of his thighs, but his touch distracts you immediately as he tugs your short skirt up to bunch at your waist, allowing you to sit on his lap more comfortably and without risk of stretching the material. You smirk for just a second before a groan tears from his throat when his fingers meets nothing but skin.

“You forget to put something on, baby?” he husks, and you shake your head. You don’t even try to look innocent.

“You weren’t the only one with ulterior motives, Cowboy.”

Your hands move to his belt buckle, undoing it with practiced ease. He watches you intently as you move on to the button and zip of his jeans. He's hard under your hands and god, you want him. But you know you're not the only one. Jake groans, his hips thrusting instinctively into your touch. Your eyes flash to his and you see him biting his lip as he watches you intently, his green eyes dark with desire. You feel powerful like this, seeing the hunger there.

You pull his erection from the denim keeping him confined. He's hard and thick, the head glistening with a bead of pre-cum. You can't resist running your hand over the smooth, velvety skin, stroking him gently. Jake's breath hitches, his eyes fluttering shut as you continue to stroke him. He keeps a hand steady on your back, ensuring your balance, but lets the other reach down between your legs. His touch brushes against your own as he goes, stroking through the liquid heat he finds. You moan softly as his fingers find their way inside you, matching the rhythm of your hand on him. His thumb swipes across your sensitive clit, sending a jolt of need through you. You gasp, your other hand pulling at the back of his head, drawing him closer.

"Jake, please," you beg, arching into his touch. He pulls his hand away from you just long enough to position himself at your entrance. He drags his cock through your wetness, coating himself. He's hard and ready, and you can't wait any longer. "Please."

He doesn't need any further encouragement as he slowly enters you, stretching you open in the best way. You cry out in pleasure, your head falling back as you feel him deep inside you.

"God, you feel so good," he whispers, his breath ghosting over your skin. Like you want to prove to him that you can be even better, you lift yourself off of him slowly, sinking back down as he moans. "That's my girl."

His muscles tense under your touch, urging you on, and you oblige without hesitation. His hands keep a firm grip on your waist as you set a steady rhythm. Your thighs burn deliciously from the exertion, but you don’t mind, leaning forward to capture his lips. It's a frenzied tangle of tongues and teeth, while his hips buck upward into yours. The feel of him inside you is exhilarating, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

Your hands twine in his hair, pulling his head back just enough so you can look into his eyes. They're lust-filled and dark, mirroring the emotions swirling within you.

"Harder," you pant.

"Fuck, baby," he growls as he speeds up his pace. He thrusts into you harder, each hit sending ripples of pleasure through you. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you press closer to him. He hits that spot inside of you that only he can reach and the stars that dot your vision aren't from the sky above you.

"Yes, oh, fuck. Jake!" He finds it again and your muscles clench. "I'm going to come," you gasp, and Jake's answering groan lets you know that he's close, too.

"Come for me, darlin'," he chants, his voice low and raspy, commanding you to give in to the feeling.

His words send you over the edge, and your scream of his name is cut off with his mouth surging to meet yours - you had nearly forgotten that you were outside. Your orgasm ripples through you, your body trembling under the waves of pleasure. You feel him give one, two, three more thrusts before he’s falling over, too. His cum is hot as it fills you and you can’t help but moan into his kiss at the sensation - there was nothing quite like it.

He pulls back once breathing becomes an issue. You're both panting and breathless. He takes your face in his hands, the roughness of his fingertips a long-formed comfort. You just stare for a few moments, letting your heart rates settle.

"Hell of a way to end the year," he finally murmurs, voice filled with warm affection.

You can't pass up the opportunity he's given you considering the current circumstances, raising an eyebrow playfully. "With your cum inside of me?"

He huffs out a laugh, but you feel his cock twitch inside of you nonetheless. “The best way to do it.”

You hum in response and grab his wrist, twisting it to get a look at his watch. 11:52.

"If we hurry we can probably make it back to the Hard Deck in time for midnight," you tell him, though you're in no rush to move. Jake shrugs a shoulder, and it's enough to tell you that he isn't, either. You smile at him softly, leaning forward for another kiss. After another minute or two, you gently disentangle yourself from each other. Jake tucks himself back into his pants as you pull your skirt down. The raised wooden structure is really not comfortable for either of you now that you weren't completely caught up in your lust. He climbs down from the chair first and keeps a protective hand on you as you make your way down after him.

Instead of moving to walk back to the bar, though, you settle together in the sand. Your back is to his chest and his arms are wrapped firmly around you. His chin is tucked into your shoulder and you watch the waves gently lapping in the ocean as you sit in a peaceful, comforting silence.

“Any resolutions this year?” he eventually asks. You feel his breath against your neck and goosebumps erupt over your skin. You hope you never stop reacting to him this way.

“Hmmm. None yet. You?”

“Already did it,” he says nonchalantly. Your eyebrows furrow and your twist your neck to look at him.

“What?”

His smirk grows and his green eyes twinkle with mischief. “Guarantee myself on the naughty list for Santa next year, obviously.”

You smack his arm right as the fireworks start going off, and his laughter is masked by the sound. There are bursts of every color you could imagine appearing in the sky, and you let yourself get distracted by the display until your husband nudges you gently.

When your eyes meet his this time, the look on his face is softer. It’s a look he only ever has for you, full of love and adoration, and despite how long you’ve been together, you feel butterflies erupt in your tummy as it washes over you. He tilts your chin up with a gentle hand. It’s the sweetest kiss you had exchanged all night, nothing more than a light brush of his lips against yours. Your nose brushes against his as, for a moment, you just breathe the other in.

“Happy New Year, darlin’,” Jake finally whispers, and his words taste sweet against your lips.

“Happy New Year, Jake.”

-------

Notes: Happy (almost) New Year everyone! Finishing off the trifecta of holiday fics with The Blonde One™️ just felt right. Thanks for reading! Likes/comments/reblogs are the kindest.

Special thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for all of their help as always, and for Mak for making the dreamiest banners.

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evermourning · 24 days

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timeless - yang jeongin ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

pairing: yang jeongin x implied afab!reader

genre: romance, multiuniversal!au, non idol!au, tons of different scenarios

warnings: language, infidelity, making out!!, suggestive, mentions of injuries/violence/war, jeongin being too perfect, based off of timeless by taylor swift

wc: 4k

summary: no matter how many lifetimes you'll live, yang jeongin will always find his way back to you. no matter the cost.

a/n: so sorry for my lack of posts! i am busy working on a BIG project 😈 this and one more oneshot will come out within the next few weeks! also, i referenced a previous jeongin fic in here! can you find it? ;)

The estate of Duke Christopher Bahng, 1521.

You sit at the long table, the revels of nobles and partygoers have become a muffled cacophony blocked from your ears. At the end of the table, Chris offers you a sheepish smile.

I apologize, he mouths, his dimples visible on one perfect cheek, I know you don't like loud noises.

It's not that Chris is a bad guy. He has never been cruel to you. In a world where someone like you has absolutely no choice in who you'll end up marrying, being engaged to Duke Bahng is one of the luckiest things you've ever endured. Chris is compassionate and sweet, and doesn't treat you like chattel.

But yet, the more time you spend with his ring suffocating your finger, you feel guilt slither over each bone in your ribcage until it has enraptured your heart, squeezing until you are absolutely sure it will bust if you exhale. You have to let him down. You'll have to tell him, one day, that you cannot love him the way he adores you.

Because you are madly in love with his younger brother, Jeongin.

At every single event like this, he is the anchor that keeps you grounded. When Chris looks away to laugh loudly and clap his best friend, Jisung, on the back, you steal a glance at Jeongin.

He looks so mature tonight. He wears a striking navy doublet threaded with gold, the colors of the Bahng family's coat of arms. Beneath it, his white sleeves are puffy, basically hiding his large hands. And as he smiles at you, you make a mental note of how his face is as perfect as ever.

His eyes cause you to melt the moment you meet his gaze. They are a deep brown, yet they glimmer with a resolute air of warmth, almost as if they are the light at the end of the tunnel that you've been searching for all along. His hair is dark and wavy, combed neatly. You know this because you had to wrestle with him for a good ten minutes before he conceded and allowed you to comb his hair.

Nobody in here knows your dirty little secret except you. And Jeongin, of course.

Normally, if it were anywhere else, he'd make subtle glances across the table, knowing just what to do to have you blushing in an instant. But tonight, he cannot. Because tonight, he is seated at Chris's side, a reminder that at the end of the day, he will never be able to live a comfortable life with you.

In the ebony depths of Jeongin's darkest nightmares, he sees you married to Chris, intent on creating a family and a home with him. He sees in his head your words of venom towards him as you push him away for his more talented and intelligent brother. The very idea of you consummating marriage with Chris has him waking up in a cold sweat.

But once the moon rises in the east, casting a dim, silvery light onto the polished courtyard stones, you are swept into a labyrinth of gardens until Jeongin is positive the two of you will not get caught.

The moment he is certain, his lips are on yours.

Jeongin is practically clawing at you, desperate for the saccharine sweetness of your lips. His long fingers entangle themselves in your hair, as if gripping onto the delicate strands will allow him to maintain some sense of human decency. The more his lips crash against yours, bruising and biting them, the more he can feel himself deteriorating into something almost primitive.

It is completely discourteous of him, of both of you, to let this behavior run amuck. You should feel some ounce of shame for sneaking around behind your husband-to-be's back with his younger brother, of all people. And yet, you cannot. Every muscle and bone in your body aches devastatingly, yearning for the boy you cannot have.

So you will continue to be two-faced. You are the perfect partner for Chris in the daytime, listening to him talk and guide you through life. But you'll always wake in his brother's bed. You'll always pen passionate sonnets to his brother and receive equally fervent soliloquies in return.

And when the time comes, you will write a note to Chris profusely apologizing for never loving him truly the way he cared for you. You will push down your fears about risk as you allow Jeongin to hoist you over stone walls draped in ivy in the loneliness of evening, hands intertwined as you run towards a new life together.

Nobody ever said finding your soulmate was supposed to be easy.

California, USA, 1849

The winter has been long, but you pulled through. Coming here was not easy, across barren prairie and looming mountains with barely enough food to survive. But it has paid off, in many more ways than you'd imagined.

When the news spread like wildfire about the possibility of gold on the West Coast, you were a little unsure if it was true or not. You didn't want to leave behind everything you knew for something hypothetical. But your husband believed. He hoped for a better life, not wanting to be the reason you were so blue. So you took your infant son, just the three of you, and went west.

You stand now in front of a beautiful house on the coast. It is two stories, preposterous for someone of your family's class, and is painted clean and white. The shutters are painted in hues of periwinkle, kindling a fire inside your heart.

Vividly in your dreams you remember first marrying Jeongin. He was scared he couldn't provide a life for you, for the one who had such a tight grip on him since he was a small boy. He knew his family wasn't wealthy, and he didn't want you to leave him, so he jumped at the chance to try and change that.

He believes God was on his side that day, after scorching hours mining and waiting by the river looking for something even akin to gold. Soil was etched into his fingernails, and his skin was tan from all the time in the sun. But he kept going, for you, and he found a hunk of gold.

It is worth it to him, seeing the delight on your face when he reveals to you the house he built himself. You were sixteen when you met him, dreaming of a big house on the water with white siding and blue shutters, and those dreams have come true.

Every single thing inside the home he’s created for your family has been created lovingly by hand. All the furniture on the inside has been built too, just for you.

You stand outside of it beside him, tears welling at the corners of your eyes. Your son is held tightly to your chest, and Jeongin wraps one arm tightly around your waist. You lean into him, a warm smile encompassing your facial features.

"Oh, sweetheart," you practically let out a broken sob. You cannot even begin to fathom the multitudes of love that seeps out of Jeongin when it comes to you. He adores your very existence, believes he's blessed by it.

It only makes sense that if Jeongin had any sort of divine powers, he would part seas and move mountains if they were ever a hazard to you. He has built you a home out of the ground, for fuck's sake.

It has been made inadvertently clear to you that you are so lucky that a man like Jeongin loves you.

Somewhere on the front lines of the Allied Forces, 1944

The world did not look this barren ten years ago.

Once luscious fields of verdant vegetation have now become trampled earth, soiled with fragments of weapons and bones. No longer do children play here. No longer do the birds sing. The only sound that will reach your ears anymore are the explosions and the screams.

Jeongin is relieved that he has temporary salvation. He sits upon a creaky cot in the medical tent, the clamor of the room still better than any battlefield. He sighs, and unbuttons the first two buttons on his uniform, rolling up the sleeves. There's a gash that hurts like hell down his forearm, thanks to the grenade he practically dove in front of to save his unit, and he's been waiting to get it wrapped.

His stomach lurches, however, as screams intensify. The 25th Infantry was ambushed. Doctors and nurses surround the soldiers carried in, and they start looking for empty beds. Time is running out, and so is availability.

His arm throbs, and he groans, clenching his teeth. Everything feels hazy. As Jeongin swims in and out of consciousness, he can hear the voice of the head doctor over him.

"Someone treat this boy. We ought to get him out of here for space."

He doesn't hear the rest, as everything goes black.

"Oh no, this won't do at all." someone tuts, and Jeongin blinks wearily. A doctor is standing above him, writing about his condition on a clipboard. "Are you awake now, Yang?"

He looks up to see the face of an angel above him.

You smell like gardenias and vanilla and everything he's yearned for since he stepped onto that dingy plane to come fight here. Your hair is neat, your skin is glossy and not covered in soot (like so many people he's met before), and your medical uniform is pressed.

He's so busy staring at you in childlike awe that he forgets to answer your question. When you tilt your head, awkward silence forming an invisible barrier between you is when it finally hits him, and his cheeks turn the color of blooming roses.

"Oh, um, yes. I'm awake." he stammers. You smile, and reach for his arm.

"May I?" you ask softly, as if a loud voice will make the wound worse. Jeongin's heart skips a beat at your words. Just by speaking to him a few times, you've entangled him in your web. And Jeongin is making no attempt to escape. "It''ll only hurt for a second, dear. I just have to check it out."

He nods, exhaling shakily as you lift his arm to check how much motion he still has in it. Once that's done, you examine the laceration.

"And how did this come to be, hm?" you ask, applying ointment to the wound. Jeongin grunts, and you place another hand on his shoulder to ease him through it. He hates how vulnerable you make him, but the feeling of you taking care of him is so appetizing. It's not enough for him. He never wants to leave your side again.

"I was an idiot," Jeongin grumbles with heated cheeks. He can't lie to you, but the reason he's in here is stupid. "and there was a grenade the enemy planted in the ground. It was like a millisecond decision, but I tried to move it away from us and it exploded. Nobody got killed, but a shard of debris got stuck in my arm."

He notices you're listening to his story in astonishment. His cheeks grow redder and redder. You probably think he's an actual dumbass.

"Are you kidding?" you say once he's finished. "You're a hero, Lieutenant. You put your life on the line to help your fellow soldiers. That's so honorable. Goodness, now I feel honored to be operating on you!"

As you begin to dress his wound, you make small talk with him, and Jeongin realizes that you and him have so much in common. You're easy to talk to and so sweet. You even are from the same city as him, for fuck's sake!

Eventually, you have to leave to aid another patient, but you can't help but lean in to whisper into his ear.

"I'll see you around, Lieutenant."

Jeongin blushes as you say this, and yet, he's so confused why you're so keen on staying with him. You could've been doing it out of pity, and you could've been working on anything else. But you devoted your precious time to him. And that's what makes him all warm inside.

It's December of 1945, and Jeongin has officially been discharged from the military. It was a long war, but a victorious one, and every single person put in the effort necessary.

You were sent back in early summer, devastating Jeongin and you both. Ever since that day in the tent, you'd been inseparable. It truly was a sight, wasn't it? Young love, in the face of such tragedy. A doctor saving the wounded and a young soldier who could die at any moment.

Since returning home, you've busied yourself with volunteer work and anything that the people need. You've fallen back into the flow of working long shifts at the hospital. But one new thing - every week, you've sent a letter to Jeongin. He tries to send some back as often as he can, but he's a busy man. And it's worrying, isn't it? One day he could stop replying and you'd never know whether or not he was busy or the worst had happened.

But he'd survived, much to your relief, and you were ready to see him now.

The harbor is crowded with wives, children, and families, waiting to see their loved ones arrive safe and sound. It's beginning to snow rather dreadfully, and as you wrap your coat tighter around yourself, you hope that it doesn't delay their arrival.

Thankfully, your prayers are answered, and a loud horn blows as the ship comes into the harbor. Cheers erupt through the crowd, and people begin pushing forward, desperate to get to their person first.

You weave through the crowd and absolute chaos erupts the moment the first few people get off the boat. You're being tossed around, but you have to go find Jeongin no matter what. The sea of people is suffocating, and you trip over someone's foot trying to get closer. But someone wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady.

When you look up, you see Jeongin's easy smile. You squeal, wrapping your arms tightly around him and he spins you around with a wide smile as he pulls you in for a long, loving kiss. His lips were always meant to be on yours. This is obvious through the way they mold into yours every time your lips connect. And when he finally pulls back, still holding you tightly, he grins.

"God, I've missed you."

Miroh Preparatory School, 1958

It's a sunny day on campus. You look at yourself in the mirror, at your freshly bought clothes. You turn once, or twice, excited to see your hard work paying off. The moment you saw this top at the store, red and black and so tuff, you knew you had to have it. You'd saved up your allowance for so long.

Your alarm chimes, and you jog over to check the time and your eyes nearly shoot out of your head. You're going to be late! You check yourself out one more time in the mirror, clip on cherry-shaped earrings, and dash out the door.

You vault onto your bike, spurring the wheels and gears into action and sighing in delight as the sun kisses your skin. Its golden rays dapple the sidewalk in front of you, setting the scene for a beautiful morning. You just hope you're pedaling fast enough to get there in time.

As you cruise along, you catch sight of your destination: the campus's soccer field. You ride around the path a couple of times, to divert their attention and make it seem like you're not there for any specific reason. Once they don't care to look is when you can look for your crush.

Yang Jeongin. The very glue that holds Miroh's undefeated varsity soccer team together. The team's most talented goalie in school history, with a slightly muscular frame and a smile that can melt any gal's heart. You park your bike and dash towards the stands, where your best friend and ticket to victory is standing.

Jisung is popular, in the same group as Jeongin, but what separates him from the rest is that he is insanely unathletic. Because of this, he is merely Miroh's team manager. But what he lacks in athletic prowess he makes up for in musical talent, stealing the hearts of people everywhere with his songs.

The two of you make an unlikely pair, since him and his friends are popular as hell and you're you, but in all honesty, you love spending time with him. You've known him since you were little living right next door to him, with gangly legs and candy wrappers stuffed into your pockets.

Jisung is the key piece to your plan to go out with Jeongin. He's your wingman, knowing the feelings you harbor for the dark-haired boy. You've begged him to bring you up during conversations and to tell you what Jeongin says. What you've gathered so far is that he thinks you're pretty, smart, and a good person.

That's not a lot, to be fair. He's probably trying to be nice, since he doesn't know you all that well. But frankly, you don't give a shit, because Jeongin thinks you're pretty.

"Quit it, hon." Jisung snaps his fingers in front of your face, breaking you out of your lovesick daydreams. "Practice is almost over, and he wants to talk to you about something. You've got to focus."

Your heart excitedly skips a beat. Jeongin wants to tell you something?! You look out at the field, where he's stretching his arms, ready to focus as team striker Hyunjin slams a ball at him full speed. Somehow, like a madman, Jeongin calculates the way Hyunjin kicks and easily blocks it. You watch in awe. How the hell did he do that?

And then he looks over and notices that you're watching him, and if you squint, you're 50% sure his cheeks grow pink. What? Before you can even process it, he's focused on practice once more, leaving you to wonder if that minute encounter was even real.

"Did...did you see that?" you ask, prodding at Jisung's shoulder, but much to your dismay, he's making googly eyes at the student council president and her clique. You sigh. However, the gradually increasing sound of chatter begins to draw closer.

Practice is over. The eleven boys on the team are laughing and joking around with each other, and one by one they offer you at least a ghost of a polite smile. The final two are Chan, the team captain, and Jeongin, who seems flustered from the avalanche of praise his hyung bestows upon him.

When they reach you, Chan winks and pushes Jeongin in your direction before grabbing Jisung by the arm and walking away. You're standing here awkwardly with the boy you've been in love with for the longest time, waiting for what he's going to say.

"Um, Jisung said you needed something from me?" You ask, fiddling with the hem of your top. He's looking at you weird. There's something unreadable in his expression. Oh god, did Jisung let it slip about you drawing hearts around his yearbook photos?!

"Yeah, sorry...I know you don't know me all that well." Jeongin says sheepishly, smiling. You feel your face begin to burn up. The irony is apparent here. "We had geometry together, right? With Mr. Park?"

Of course you remember. That was the class where you fell head over heels for him. You sat behind him, giving you the ability to gaze at him adoringly. He was funny and smart, and brightened the room.

"Yeah, we did!" you smile at him. "But what do you need? I'd be happy to help." His cheeks grow pink at your words, and he becomes a blushing mess.

"So, um, you know how there's a school dance next week? For the homecoming game? I was wondering if you wanted to come as my date." he stammers. "See, I've had this crush on you ever since geometry. You haven't left my mind once."

You genuinely cannot tell whether or not this is a dream, as you nod excitedly and wrap your arms around him. Your high school sweetheart likes you back!

Decades later, you'll sit in a comfortable chair, showing your grandchildren this picture. It is of you and Jeongin, dated 1958, his arm wrapped languidly around you as you smile and laugh before the dance wearing coordinating colors. You'll remain hopelessly enamored with each other for the rest of your lives, creating a family and a home. Perfect for each other, as if the universe hand-crafted the string of fate that binds you with gentle, loving hands.

Seoul University, 2024

You'd rather be anywhere but here.

It's late, and your head is pounding from the loud music blasting around you. Hyunjin just had to drag you to one of his parties on a Friday night, which you were totally unprepared for. Now, you lean against the wall, absentmindedly swirling a drink you'd rather not touch.

Your internal silence is interrupted when a young man with ginger hair walks up to you. He wears a black tank top and jeans, and holds a red solo cup in one hand covered in rings.

"You seem lonely," he observes. You don't want to admit it, so you offer him a tight-lipped smile. "Mind if I offer you company?"

You've never met this man in your life. Yet something about him seems so...familiar. His existence is unbeknownst to you, but he's prominent already. And on his ring finger, strangely, he wears a silver ring with willow branches. Just like the one you have.

"Excuse me, have we met before?" you ask, absolutely bewildered. A fire lights up in his chocolate eyes. He reaches out to take your cup from you, placing it on a table nearby.

"Yes, we know each other. And we are meeting each other for the first time right now. My name's Jeongin." he says. And then you know. There's no proof that Jeongin is the one for you, but there's a feeling in your gut that you never want to be separated from him again.

"What...what do you mean, that we know each other?" you ask, intrigued. Jeongin chuckles, running a hand through his smooth hair. "I'm racking my brain here. I genuinely cannot think of a single interaction with you."

"Who knows?" Jeongin replies with a wink. "Maybe it was in a different universe. We could even be lovers."

You laugh at his goofy flirting, not thinking much of it. Jeongin seems like the type of guy you could see yourself having a true connection with.

"Well, let's see if that proves to be true." You look out over the droves of people dancing and come to the obvious conclusion that you would rather be anywhere but here. "I'm over this. Want to go grab something to eat?"

Jeongin gives you a smile that can only be classified as sugary sweet. He takes you by the hand, leading you out of the apartment until it's just the two of you. And you just feel so at ease with him. There is no place you'd rather be than beside Jeongin.

And there you will stay, no matter what. There's no use tampering with fate.

#ren writes!! <3 #stray kids #evermourning #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #jeongin #yang jeongin #yang jeongin x reader #stray kids imagines #i.n skz #jeongin skz #jeongin x reader #jeongin stray kids #I LOVE TAYLOR SWIFT

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myarlert · 2 years

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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄?

itto, diluc, kaeya, thoma, ayato, dainsleif & zhongli x fem!reader

cw: nsfw, smut. v. penetration, breeding, creampies, one mention of biting. oral [m+f receiving], mentions of squirting, overstimulation, handjobs, orgasm denial, bawls.

short synopsis + what they take their time on.

minors do not interact | m.lists

𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐎 can last all night. arataki itto is the king of ‘built to breed’ ‘let’s go all night’. he’s got the biggest balls that are constantly in need of draining, and well look at that? you’re perfect for him to fill up so nicely! itto will end up having you in so many different positions throughout the night, his favorite being the mating press of course. he loves looking down to see his thick, aching cock plunging in and out of you, collecting that pretty white ring of cream around his base. he would pull out sometimes to tap his fat tip against your clit, watch your legs tremble as he watches you clenching around nothing, begging him to put it back in. he can go all night, what’s to say he can’t go 5 fucking rounds?

itto takes his time with prepping you, as well as aftercare. he’s very considerate and attentive after going for hours.

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂 definitely has a lot of stamina. he loves to start in just the afternoon, and his reason being he loves having dawn winery all to yourselves. he adores when he can take you out on a balcony and fuck you in-front of the sunset. he’s very romantic, he’ll press kisses to the middle of your back, lick a trail up to your throat only to give a harsh bite that has you whining in his grasp. he has a sweet spot for overstimulation, both parties receiving it. he loves it when you squirt over his cock, drenching it as he relishes in the warm sensation that drips down and tickles his balls. ‘give me another. i know you have it in you.’ 1-2 rounds.

diluc loves to pay attention to your every move. he has memorized every face you make, every sound and how to achieve those from you.

𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀 oh sweet delicious kaeya… he can go for a few rounds but he gets a bit sleepy towards the end, which always end up with the best of sloppy thrusts. the ones that produce a soft, muffled clap of wet skin and the ones that hit so deep your eyes completely roll back into your head. he loves when it starts rough and gradually gets softer along the way. the kind of sex that has him dominating you at the start then tapers off to him whining and whimpering your name at the ending, begging even. he is the king of switching it up. on average can go about 3 rounds, he wants you to milk him for everything he’s worth.

kaeya will eat you out for hours it seems. he especially likes it when you wear different lingerie sets, letting him peel them off to reveal his delicious dessert.

𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐀 can last longer than expected and it takes you by surprise. what else takes you by surprise? how mean he can get. he’s a very, VERY sweet man but sometimes he gets himself so worked up with cleaning he just needs a release, ya know? that’s where you come in. he sees you in your pretty summer dress and his mind wonders. his eyes dart all over the room at different pieces of furniture and before long, he has you bend over each one, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you. don’t expect him to be nice all the time, he absolutely will deny you until he’s on the edge himself, keeping you from cumming so he can feel you spasming around his twitching cock. he’s the kinda guy to have you nearly cumming with one thrust and pulls out to deny it until he’s ready. sometimes lasts 2-3 rounds.

thoma loves to finger you before anything. he loves when he gets you so wet, one feather like touch is nearly enough to push you over.

𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐓𝐎 okay so hear me out, he can’t last forever right? he gets so hard with it he tires himself out so fast. he loves hitting it from behind, gazing down intently at how your ass slaps against his hips, pushing his cock deeper and deeper with each thrust forward. his hands would massage your ass and help in tugging you back against him. he really likes to make you cum as much as you can, he just wants you to feel as good as he feels if not better. he definitely gets sweaty by the end, dripping even. he can’t help it, you have him addicted to the feeling you being wrapped around him. maybe 1-2 rounds. possibly 3 after a nap.

very very attentive ayato is. he appreciates when you mutter what you want and need during sex, and he loves being able to give it to you.

𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐈𝐅 can get shy at times. shockingly enough, he loves when you peel his clothes off, leaving him naked and waiting as your hands drift down his body to get his cock ready. if he was feeling different for the night, he’ll grab your wrist and guide him to directly what he wants. tonight actually, he wanted a handjob, so a handjob is what he got. oh how he loved to lean back against the chair as he watches you kneeling before him, your hand wrapped around his leaking tip, starting to stroke him in languid motions. he often times will announce things, such as ‘take it deeper..’ ‘right there!’ or ‘lick the balls too.. that’s it..’ he really enjoys foreplay. can last approximately 2 rounds.

as i mentioned, dainsleif enjoys foreplay. 69 is his best friend. he loves when you suck him off, only as long as he can give your delicious pussy the attention it deserves.

𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈 okay so zhongli can last a while and he’s very experienced. not to say you are or aren’t as experienced, there’s always something he surprises you with that you didn’t know about. what really gets you off the most when in the sheets with zhongli is the filth that comes from his mouth. he likes to tease you, with both his fingertips and his words. one of the most memorable sexy moments with zhongli was the time he had you positioned on your knees on the bed infront of a mirror, he kneeled behind you with no hands on you whatsoever, he only whispered the nastiest of scenarios in your ear. how much he wanted to sink his aching, leaking tip inside you at last.. how good it must feel to have it stretching you out. one of the times you’ve had a completely hands free orgasm, thanks to him. 2-3 rounds, mans got stamina.

zhongli really likes to take his time with teasing you with his words to get you all worked up. he doesn’t touch you until he knows you’re completely dripping, just so he can slide into you with one rough push.

tagging @p-antomime @endlessmari @httphaitani @anantaru

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certifiedskywalker · 1 year

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Trapped in the Highest Tower - Daemon Targaryen

The Red Keep is a castle crumbling under the weight of secrets. Everyone hides something...what's a little more if it means you and Daemon can be together?

Hightower!Reader

Warning(s): strong language

“Set your political squabbling with Daemon aside and see what I, your child, see.”

“I see only that he is stringing you along, tying himself to you to get his sword closer to my throat! Do you not see how your base decisions threaten me and all I have built for this family?!”

As they fell from his lips, your father’s words echoed in your mind like the ricochet ringing of the bells outside of the Red Keep. A warning or a death knell, you knew not the difference. Coming from the mouth of Otto Hightower, it all sounded grating. Gratingly cruel too, when he narrowed his cold, grey eyes and furrowed his shrewd brows.

“By dallying with Daemon, you squander every opportunity that has arisen for your sister,” he pressed on, a snarl curling his hairy lip.

In the pour of poisonous accusation that dripped from Otto’s tongue, you saw your sister: auburn curls like your mother’s and soft brown eyes to match. Your father wielded Alicent’s sweetness like a sword, stabbing madly toward the Throne. Yet, he stood like the Seven’s loyal, infallible Father while he claimed that Daemon wielded you in the same manner. They dueled, even when apart. You tired of the blood and the ache in your bitten tongue.

It was your turn to snarl, to strike.

“Alicent’s opportunity or yours?” Otto’s stern features flinched before they fell completely at your rebuttal. You saw the battlefield was leveled then, with neither soldier holding any edge. You showed Otto that you had seen through his veil of good intentions, and he showed you his hand of spies, how easily he could work the brick of King’s Landing against you. Against you and Daemon.

Only the bare, bitter truth remained, and neither of you was quite yet willing to face it.

Wordlessly, Otto turned to leave your chambers, green robes trailing behind him like an emerald shadow. With the shutting of the door behind him, you turned towards your bed, trembling hand reaching for one of the wooden poles that held up the canopy. Your fingers closed around the dark oak as you gasped, desperate to fill your lungs and squash the ache in your chest.

As you wheezed, your fingers squeezed around the wood so tight you feared it might splinter. Your wild eyes watched the flexing of your knuckles before drifting to the sheets, the silky, black robe that sat atop them. Your father caught you post-shedding of the robe, caught you decked in peasant garb, your midnight rendezvous attire. Still struggling for a full breath, you looked down from your bed to your wears. Beige and grey that covered it, hid your well-fed form.

As you looked, eyed the tears in the clothes Daemon had scourged for you, a dark spot appeared on the fabric of your trousers. It was a tiny dot above the knee, damp to the touch. You rubbed at it with your free hand and only after a second spot appeared did you realize you were crying. Still trembling, you released the canopy pole and wiped furiously at the gathering spots of wetness on your knees.

The edge of your bed caught you as you sank low, legs shaking too hard to keep yourself upright. You curled on the sheets, rubbing at the fabric until your palms began to burn. So stuck in the heat that numbed your hands and in the sound of your rapid, ragged breaths, you missed the scraping of stone against stone. You missed how the candlelight flickered to make way for a shadow that crept toward your bed.

“You’re late.”

At first, it was Otto’s voice, another of his fatherly accusations. The thought made you stiffen, stilled your burning hands. Puffy flesh stung as you looked up and saw the true owner of the voice through tears in your eyes. Daemon saw you then, the streams that raced down your cheeks and the defeat in your brow.

“You are far more than late,” he murmured, softer than his first words. “What happened?”

You felt your upper lip twitching up into a snarl, your body still fired to fight your father, but smothered it by turning your head down. Through the blur of unshed tears, you gazed at the stone floor, the crack in the wall that whispered of Daemon’s secret door. He knew the passages well, and showed you the routes during a night out. How bitter that memory tasted now.

“Darling.”

Despite the pet name, Daemon’s tone was cold, cut-ice-smooth like the sheets you sat on. Yet, you still did not look back at him. Even when he knelt before you, his knees kissing the kissing in devotion, you did not look back at him. Only when two of his fingers hooked beneath your chin did you consider it.

“Tell me,” he pressed, fingers pulling you by your jaw to face him. When you met his gaze, he clarified his ask: “who did this to you?”

You saw only him, his lightning-strike-lighted eyes and his sharp features, the lines on either side of his lips that whispered of his signature smirk. You saw him until you saw his free hand reach out, trembling as he wiped a fresh falling tear from your cheek. The rough pad of his thumb brushed against your skin with a shocking softness. “My father,” you murmured, “he knows.”

Daemon’s hands fell from your face, his own face unreadable. He remained knelt before you, gaze tracing your features as a hunter might carve the meat from a carcass. His hunter mind was thinking, setting a trap for your father in his mind. You saw Otto then, in Daemon’s narrowed eyes and scheming thoughts.

The bells rang in your ears at the sight. He is stringing you along.

“And you.”

“What?”

“You did this.”

In a rush, Daemon stood, walking away from you with his back turned. “What the fuck do you mean by that? How am I to blame for your cunt of a father’s-”

Then, it was your turn to stand. “You plot his downfall at each turn. Even now, you use my tears as an excuse to wet your blade and darken your thoughts.”

Daemon scoffed and set his jaw as he turned to face you. His long, silver hair framed his furrowed features as the strands flowed over his shoulders. You could feel his burning rage just as you felt the lingering heat in your rubbed-raw hands. His cloak did little to hide his fire and tensed frame, his large hands curling into fists. Yet, the look of the Prince filled your chest with a lightness that betrayed your words.

“Have you ever held feeling for me? Seen me as any more than a…a tool, a weapon for you to wield for the furtherment of your family name? You’re no better than him, my father.”

“Mind your tongue,” Daemon hissed, stepping toward you with purpose. He closed the distance he had put between you. His hands rose once more and cradled your face. When you tried to free yourself from his grasp, his hands grabbed at your waist and held you to him, close.

Close enough to kiss, and so Daemon did. His lips found yours in a fervor, desperate and wild. It was as if Daemon thought he could scorch your father’s allegations from your mind with his touch. It nearly worked too, as you melted into him. Your body leaned against his, your hands rising to his face to cup his jaw. Yet, just as you were about to surrender yourself to him entirely, retire the accusations that held you so, Daemon pulled himself from you.

Your eyes fluttered open and focused on his kiss-swollen lips before you found his gaze. There was no coldness in his face, only warmth. One of his hands roamed up your waist to your face to trace your features. Daemon dragged the pad of his thumb down the slope of your bottom lip with a tenderness that seemed beyond himself.

“You are my family,” he said, kissing you again, but softer. He pulled away just enough he could speak, his words pressed against your lips. “And I hold far more than feeling for you, darling.”

“Daemon-”

The Prince leaned back to look into your eyes. “Your father will tell no one of us, save for my brother, and Viserys is much too…preoccupied with your sister for much else.”

You shuddered at the thought and Daemon hummed knowingly, his hand brushing over your cheek in an attempt to soothe you. “My father sees Viserys’ grief as an opportunity, for his family.”

“Himself,” Daemon clarified, and you nodded. “And my brother’s eyes are covered by his Hand. He cannot see Otto’s true intentions and has trapped himself in the dark.”

“Yet, we see,” you said, hope in your tone. Daemon tipped his head in interest. “We do not have to watch. My love, let’s not stay trapped here with them.”

“Leave Viserys?”

“I would be leaving Alicent,” you said, and the idea made you ache. She was blind too, to your father. She was perfect for Viserys that way.

Daemon frowned, his face turning toward the floor before he leaned into you. His head fell against your shoulder and you held him close. His hair stunk of smoke and dragon, but he was yours.

“We could claim Dragonstone for ourselves,” he said suddenly, his voice muffled slightly by his hunched-over form. “We could wed in the way of my House, wait out the coming storm of succession madness my brother is blindly brewing.”

Daemon lifted his head and met your gaze. You held it, unwavering despite the thought of leaving your blood behind. In the night, you and Daemon saw each other, clearer than before. You leaned forward and kissed him; Daemon welcomed your lips and it tasted like a vow.

Inspired by that one Tweet. You know, the one that read: “The sluttiest thing a man can do is lift your chin with two fingers, brush the tears from your cheek, and say ‘Who did this to you?’ while trembling with poorly contained feral rage.” That one. Only, knowing Daemon, he would do that and be the one to blame…

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amarynthian-chronicles · 1 month

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Our Guest Chapter 1

Vampire!Sun, Vampire!Moon, Vampire!Eclipse x Hunter Reader

(You arrive at a sinister and luxurious castle with the innocent intention of checking why its mysterious residents haven't been paying any taxes or utilities for the past several centuries. Very useful excuse for a vampire hunter to have when trying to do some good old infiltrating. The three vampire lords however, fully intend to capture and seduce you, but that is a bit difficult when you keep asking them about their financial books. Will they be able to make you theirs? Are they onto your little schemes and playing along? Will you finally get that plate of cupcakes? We'll find out)

“There is a beautiful and delicious darling waiting at our castle door, brothers.“

“This is practical, normally we have to go out and hunt for one of those. Apparently the whole process switched to free postal service.“

“I can taste the tantalizing sweetness in their veins even from here. All shall envy our fortune, no other lord of the night will ever have access to such nectar.“

Three vampiric aristocrats were huddling together behind the velvet curtains, trying to get a discreet peek at the unexpected visitor that had rung the castle doorbell, disturbing their nocturnal activities. The boys had been on their best behaviour. Trust them.

Prior to this, Marquis Moon had been composing a new sonata, writing notes in expert penmanship before playing the piece beautifully, but no beloved was there to hear it. Viscount Sun had just been in the middle of painting a new masterpiece, creating wonders with each stroke of his brush, but he had found himself in need of a model to pose for him.

Grand Duke Eclipse's craftsmanship was unmatched when it came to jewellery, his combinations and designs of precious stones and metals resembling physical manifestations of poetry, yet no beauty had been available to wear them, no delicate fingers to offer home for his rings nor lovely neck he could adorn with gold and rubies.

How convenient of you to come and solve their problems, dear Y/N!

You stood at the door, umbrella in hand, calm, smiling, without a care in the world. Possibly wondering why it was taking so long for someone to come to the door. Truth be told, it was a pretty big castle, maybe the residents just needed time to get from one side to the other, you never know.

The three brothers eyed you through the window with hunger, lust and curiosity. It was quite cold outside and your cheeks were red. You were doe-eyed, delectable, theirs for the taking.

Moon's preternatural senses were sharper than those of his brothers, capable of detecting even the smallest of details when it came to analysing a living creature, perfectly appropriate skills for a hunter of his calibre. He could hear the stable rhythm of your heart, memorising it as if it were a beat of a musical piece, something he should use in composing. He could make a whole symphony with your heartbeat as inspiration for tempo, the flow of your sweet blood serving as inspiration for the flow of his music.

Moon spoke, his voice almost a raspy whisper:

“Most unusual, not a single trace of fear in them. Posture almost immaculate, joy and confidence in their bearing, almost as if they just entered an amusement park. Shall we give them a little scare? The steady cadence of their heart could use some excitement, every calm melody needs a good crescendo from time to time.“

Viscount Sun huffed, disagreeing:

“Fear adds such a bitter taste and ruins both the palate and the palette. Various emotions change the chemical components of the nectar of life, different combinations create different flavours, similarly how different colours form various new shades on the canvas. Just look what a soft little thing they are. Such a delicate disposition, definitely not made for this type of weather nor your sadistic chasing games, Moonie.“

“Do not spoil my fun, Sunny.“

“Why chase when you can entice?“

“That is a very interesting way of admitting that you are tragically bad at tracking prey.“

“If only you were as good at throwing compliments as you were with throwing insults, you wouldn't have to chase anyone in the first place.“

Eclipse held up a red beryl gem and gazed at it, as if silently asking a question. A green mist appeared within, whispering to him in a language only he could understand. He listened intently, maroon circles appearing in his golden eyes for a swift moment, before disappearing. All in due time.

Sun and Moon were still having their little argument and he decided it was time to put an end to it:

“Enough, we cannot keep them waiting out there forever. They will freeze before any of you gets a chance to do anything at all. We should warm them up.“

As you were waiting for someone to finally deign to answer the door, you took your time to admire the castle's exterior. You were very fond of such aesthetic and your inner scholar felt like a cat that had fallen into a whole basket of catnip.

Even in the dark of the night and heavy rain, it was fairly easy to discern that it was a place of splendour, its design a combination of Renaissance and Gothic architecture. There was a wide variety of turrets and towers, marvellous rose windows, loggias and galleries, facade ornaments containing statues of figures from Classical antiquity.

Nevertheless, Beauty always had an interesting tendency of holding hands with the Grotesque. Therefore, something lugubrious reigned in the air, a perpetual feeling of gloom, as if there were an echo of forgotten funeral bells, suspended between reality and imagination. Life and Death, Luxury and Decay, all of it intertwined in a shameless orgy of contradictory concepts.

October rain was a perfect proverbial cherry on top. Honestly, there was no better time of the year to make a little detour at such a place. It just didn't hit the same if one were to visit a sinister chateau in June.

The season of Autumn had arrived like an old friend, having just gotten out of its elegant carriage, clad in russet cloaks and vermillion capes, bringing gifts, ripe grapes and apples, calling for harvest and summoning everyone to bask in the final rays of golden sunlight before stern Winter shrouds the land with snow.

However, your particular journey had a few setbacks, forcing you to use all of your negotiation skills to get a local taxi driver to get you to the desired address.

The aforementioned driver was currently sitting in the parked car, keeping the engine running, waiting for your further instructions. He was looking at the building's imposing structure with an expression of visceral fear and the only thing holding him from simply driving away was the suspiciously large amount of cash you had given him to bring you there in the first place.

How lovely, all of our main characters were so trustworthy.

Other than your sudden presence, all had seemed to be perfectly peaceful in our dear castle, not a creature stirred. The bats were napping, the owls nesting, the spiders were wondering whether they should protect their web designs in the central intellectual property system. All was calm. Well, a few poor fellows in the dungeons may not have been having the best time of their lives, but you can't make everyone happy.

You had gotten yourself well-acquainted with the names and ranks of your targets. Pardon, “auditees“. Although, considering the nature of your visit, both terms could equally apply, the revenue and audit business was a cruel one. You had done extensive reading on the subject of their suspicious “economic activities“, along with all the macabre phenomena that had been connected to them. You should be feeling some sort of anxiety over the whole task, but honestly, you were rather giddy. You loved a challenge. What a wonderful way to spend the spooky season.

The heavy door opened in front of you. You looked upwards at the looming shadowy figure, a pair of golden eyes glowing in the penumbra, a deep husky voice greeting you:

“Do my eyes deceive me? A bright morning star is visiting us, is it dawn already? Welcome, welcome, bringer of light.“

“Good evening, sir. Please accept my sincere apologies for disturbing your household so late. You are the Grand Duke, I presume?“

“What a polite little thing you are. Indeed, you presume correctly. Now, why are you here in the middle of nowhere at such an ungodly hour? Lost your way?“

The vampire lord was looking at you as if you were the last scrumptious morsel on that side of the known universe, which could be interpreted as both flattering and unnerving.

Before you could answer, you noticed that two additional figures appeared at his side, a gaze of menacing crimson and one of ardent blue. You spoke, tone chirpy and cheerful:

“The Marquis and the Viscount! What an honour, I only heard the best about your artistic talents.“

“Oh, did you come all the way here for an autograph, dearest? Or perhaps a private performance?“

You smiled at them, tilting your head like a kitten that was trying to charm its owner into getting treats.

“May I come in? I will make it quick, I promise.“

The three of them gave each other a look, grinning as if thoroughly amused.

“Interesting, usually we are the ones asking such a question. Come in, come in! Do tell us, are you a tourist? We love tourists that desperately need assistance with directions. Adore them, very much so.“

“You love to help them?“

“Hm? Ah, yes, yes. Definitely love to help them.“

“Actually, I have been sent by the Revenue and Audit Bureau, I am here on official business. The usual, suspected tax fraud, unpaid utilities and so on. “

They definitely didn't expect that. Oh, no, no. Confusion reigned for a solid minute, before you casually presented your very legitimate credentials, letting them read. Sun was the first to break the silence with a slightly hysterical laugh. He reached to give you a little pat on the head.

“Are you now, my pretty? We still love making new friends, even when they come from financial institutions!“

“The taxi is waiting for me with my baggage still, so I won't take long and will just ask you a few preliminary questions. This visit was really just intended for me to announce that I would be conducting this procedure in the following days. I will be making a few additional visits during the week just for the sake of the inspection, then I shall be on my merry way with the report.“

“Nonsense! We cannot let you go back on the road in this weather. Besides, the local hotel is more terrifying than a graveyard at the witching hour. Do stay with us, we have plenty of comfortable chambers, we cannot let you fly away like a little comet in the night.“

“Oh, you are very generous, but that won't be necessary. Business aside, it is still a great pleasure to make your acquiantance.“

You extended your hand to them, expecting a firm and professional handshake. What could possibly go wrong there?

Everything.

Your eyes widened when the Grand Duke took your hand and kissed it, taking his sweet time. By the time he released it, your cheeks must have gone through several shades of red.

“The pleasure is all ours, morning star.“

As if that wasn't enough to make your heart skip a beat or ten, the Viscount and Marquis joined the fun, as well, each of them placing little kisses on your knuckles.

Alright, apparently neither side would be playing a fair game.

They knew exactly what they were doing. Their gestures and ministrations provided an excellent distraction, making you drop your mental defenses for a few precious seconds, enough for them to work their spell on you as you began to lose yourself in their eyes.

Several firm rules existed when it came to dealing with vampires and you just messed up the most crucial one: do not let yourself be mesmerized.

And yet.

Combine that with your natural curiosity and desire for knowledge, and there you have it, a freshly baked disaster, straight out of the oven.

Suppressing your fascination with the three of them had suddenly become a very difficult task. You had never seen such facial structures nor anatomy before. True, you had seen your fair share of weird things in your short little life, but you were still very much taken aback.

The three aristocrats possessed celestial features reminiscent of their heavenly namesakes, a perfect union of Beauty and the Grotesque, allowing such an appearance to be more alluring than simply awe-inspiring. The brothers were preternaturally handsome, of impressive height, wolfish grins always present, everything about them was perfectly tailored to entrap both willing and unwilling victims.

Sun's canines were discreet but still very sharp, appropriate for someone whose primary role was to lure and enchant. Moon's were far more prominent and intimidating, the rest of his teeth possessing a similar razor edge, fit for a predator meant to deliver efficient results. Eclipse's were the sharpest and most lethal, establishing his status of being the most formidable and terrifying member of the group.

Rich scents were lingering in the air around them, amber, vanilla, cardamom, rose oil, lovely, oh, so lovely.

It took you a solid several seconds to register the fact that you still had to use your words to speak, but the glow of their eyes was so magnificent, magnetic, such ethereal beauty, entire worlds were present in them, promising pleasures untold.

It was as if the concept of time had suddenly been shattered like a fairy tale mirror, seconds became centuries. How long had you been silent and simply standing there in pure adoration?

And yet, a certain part of you suddenly awakened, grasping the rest of your soul by the hand and pulling it out of the mindless haze, showing that it had power strong enough to escape the tendrils of darkness. You had a task, after all. Let's remain professional.

Unbeknownst to you, the brothers were somewhat shocked with your ability to get your mind back on track, even after direct exposure to the hypnotic power of all three of them. True, they had only been using a low level of their mind control magic, but it was still impressive, considering that most humans would simply choose to remain in the comforting embrace of oblivion. Why on earth would anyone choose to return to the cold fields of reality?

During all of that, your grip had slackened on the umbrella's handle and a suspiciously strong wind current blew it away right out of your hand before you even had time to realize what is going on, leaving you unprotected from the pouring rain.

By the time you had finally returned to your senses, you were partially soaked from the deluge and the wind was really not doing you any favours. You made a cute sneeze, followed by another.

“Pardon me. Now, as I was saying-“

Another adorable sneeze. You honestly hoped that this wouldn't make your reputation suffer one day.

Eclipse casually commented, smirking:

“You won't be able to last the drive to the hotel like that. Unless you are prepared to deal with potential pneumonia.“

Before you could protest, Sun eagerly trapped both your hands in his grasp, giving them a little squeeze and massaging them as if trying to warm you up. He didn't let go even when you tried to pull away.

“Goodness, darling comet, your hands are so cold. You will catch your death out there, we must insist that you stay here with us for the whole week. It is very cozy and comfy inside, we can build you a whole nest of blankets after a nice hot bath. Moonie, go get their things and give the good driver some extra compensation, will you?“

You blinked as Moon passed by with a speed that was certainly not normal by any means. You could have sworn that you felt the most tender of caresses along your cheek, a motion so swift that your eyes could barely catch it, but your nerves certainly did. It was difficult to supress a shudder.

Enthusiastic and almost mad with glee, Moon got all of your things from the car, hastily throwing a bag full of jewels in the taxi driver's face as additional payment, ignoring the man's muffled yelp, before dashing right back at the door, carrying your baggage as if it weighed nothing.

A few moments later the only thing that was heard was the rain falling and the sound of the car tires shrieking as it drove off, leaving you alone with your eager and enamoured hosts.

You made a little squeak of surprise as you were suddenly pulled inside, the door closing and making a dramatic echo in the stormy night.

A few words were in order regarding the noble residence. The whole castle served both as a comfortable home and as a convenient trap for newcomers. It was true that the classical process of hunting provided a wonderful thrill, a tingle so exquisite that nothing could compare. Chasing and tracking chosen prey, what a delight, sensing the beating heart, the warmth of blood, bliss beyond description. However, there were times when it seemed appropriate to play a more elegant game, inviting and letting the victims enter the web willingly.

Therefore, our handsome vampire lords had a habit of organizing ostentatious dance parties, having a very strict dress code where all the guests had to dress in accordance with the fashion of the late 18th century. A grand feast would be prepared, fireworks, concerts, luxuries that would place kings to shame, a decadent display of wealth and desire. The celestial vampires would then proceed to charm and seduce their victims, one by one, all of them giving themselves, mind, body and soul.

If all went well, and usually it did, the experience could be pleasurable for all those involved. One drinking from the neck, the other two relishing the sweetness on the pulsating wrist arteries. If things were a bit more amorous, all of them would nibble and drink the precious blood from the inner thigh area.

Sharing was caring, after all.

There was something beautifully intimate about the whole process. Drinking life. Hungry licks and bites, gestures of both a lover and a murderer. For an enemy, tearing out the heart and drinking from the source seemed like a worthy way of evening an old score, but for allies it would always be a pleasant little bite and a quick drink, leaving the victim alive and well.

They harboured a heightened appreciation of the human body. Flesh was aesthetically pleasing, beautiful, pulsing with life, warmth, all those wonderful things that were ready to be stolen. Blood illuminated by moonlight, blood illuminated by early rays of dawn. Art, it was pure art.

Furthermore, the brothers had additional powers conveniently associated with their artistic skills. Temporary enthrallment was a wonderful tool, but they created their own ways of ensuring a more permanent bond with those they allowed to live, assuring that no matter where they run, they could always be called upon and summoned like obedient pets.

Sun would sometimes use some of the precious blood as an additional pigment ingredient for his paintings, no different from Moon at times combining it with ink to write musical notes as he composed. It served as a type entrapment of the person's mind, having a part of them forever bound to them, their soul captured in their art, their music.

If Moon were to play a piece written with the blood of one person, they would immediately succumb to the pull, making haste to heed their master's call no matter what. Similarly, if Sun were to paint with that specific colour containing the blood pigment, he could make the person do whatever the picture was showing in that current moment.

Eclipse's ability was the most potent, he was capable of trapping the entire soul of a person in jewels, ensuring absolute control over their mind and heart whenever he wished. In death they would remain his prisoners, their spirits and energy his to use as he pleased.

Such magic was terrifying even in the world of vampires and therefore a majority of them had acknowledged the celestial brothers as royalty among immortals.

Now, let us return to your fun little predicament with those very sane individuals that certainly only had your best interests at heart.

Moon made haste to bolt the doors as soon as you were inside, of course. Sun's giggle was slightly maniacal as he winked at you.

“Security reasons, my pretty. You never know what beasts are lurking out there, dangerous times we live in.“

You pouted, removing your soaked coat and trying to get your hair to somewhat dry by combing your fingers through it.

“Oh, yes, that is quite true that one can never be too careful, my dear sir. In fact, I think I saw a few life insurance agents on my way here. Truly frightening creatures, the lot of them, wouldn't recommend meeting them in a dark alley under any circumstance whatsoever.“

Moon's voice was close once more, it seemed almost as if he moved as swiftly as a shadow, one could miss him within a single blink.

“There could be some other monsters wandering around, shining comet.“

“Such as?“

“Do you happen to know which creature of the Night feeds on the essence of the living, stalking and doing all it can to attract prey?“

“The HR department?“

Ignoring his confusion, your focus shifted to the grandeur of the interior. They weren't lying, it was undoubtedly cozy and wonderful to behold. Comforting heat was coming from the fireplace. Thick carpets with elaborate patterns were present all over the hardwood flooring. Walls were decorated with intricate tapestries and paintings, golden sconces, cabinets containing Venetian glass and crystal figurines, not a single surface was left bare. Vaulted ceilings, frescoes painted in each available bit of space, creating a wonderful effect that only a mad artist could concoct in a fever dream of divine inspiration.

Which is probably what had happened, considering Sun's habits.

However, elements of the supernatural and macabre continued to linger. Some paintings had eyes that seemed a bit too alive, while others would become more and more disturbing the longer you looked at them. Statues appeared to be capable of changing their pose at a whim and it was easy to miss the motion itself within a mere blink. Shadows cast from the fireplace were not following any law of physics, undulating and writhing on the floor as they please, sometimes creating monstrous shapes.

Marvellous. Beyond description, fascinating. Had it not been for your task, you would have gladly spent a whole eternity studying the components and properties of the whole structure.

You were brought back to reality when you realized that you were still very much shivering and that you really needed to get your hair properly dried.

You gasped as you suddenly felt Eclipse wrap his cloak around you from behind, pulling you closer to his form, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. Goodness gracious, was that a secret additional pair of arms he had?

“Sir!“

“There was no time to fetch you a blanket, consider this an urgent alternative.“

“Don't you think this is a bit of a compromising position?“

“Preposterous, that must be the feverish delirium talking. This cruel weather is detrimental for soft flowers such as yourself.“

“I suppose by this logic it must the delirium that is squeezing my hips right now?“

He purred in your ear:

“Relax, morning star, you need warmth, we cannot allow you to get ill under our care.“

“I think I am very warm now, though.“

“Hush, be still, let us take care of you.“

Viscount Sun made sure to get your attention once more.

“You know, sweetness, many have pursued us for various reasons, but tax evasion was never one of them. This is going to be a fun new experience for all of us.“

It was perfectly within your right to struggle and act indignant in order to free yourself, but you were aware that you had to be diplomatic and collected for the moment. Antagonizing your hosts would yield no results and would certainly make your job far more difficult than it needed to be.

You had to remain professional, it was a task like any other. Yes, your hosts were not really the best examples of sanity nor did they seem to be aware of the concept of personal space, but you couldn't let that distract you from your duties. Someone had to be mature in the whole situation, after all. You cleared your throat, trying to appear as dignified as possible in your current position.

Adjusting a bit, ignoring the fact that you were still being held tightly by four arms, you managed to reach for your pocket to get a little notepad and a pencil. It was a rather comical scene to behold, since you had limited options and an even more limited space to maneuver in, but by some miracle you were able to make a few scribbles on the paper. Such an action required the same skill level one usually achieves when trying to get work done with one cat asleep on their computer and five additional cats on their lap and head.

Sun was very much offended with you playing with the paper and pencil instead of letting him warm your hands. You spoke:

“Alright, I will need some basic information for now, such as source of income, registered businesses, unregistered activities that may go under the radar of the government. You do realize that there is an unusually large cemetery on the way here that is not even on the map?“

“I can answer all of those for you. Accumulated heirloom. Pleasure is our only business and business is doing well! As for the final one, well, it is such a tragedy how incompetent cartographers are these days, my dear.“

“Regardless, I still have to conduct a thorough investigation and write a report, it is a formal requirement. Also, it will be necessary that I take a tour around the place simply to inspect the installations. Since none of the utilities are being paid for either, I must see whether you have self-sufficient power sources.“

“Now, now, you can't explore all on your own, that would be against our rules. And you don't want to be a little rulebreaker. You cannot enter certain rooms or parts of the castle without our permission.“

“Understandable. You three can guide me during my stay, then.“

“Moreover, communication with the outside world is highly discouraged. So discouraged, that it is forbidden, actually.“

“May I ask why?“

“You may! We won't answer, but you definitely may ask regardless, your voice is so pleasant to listen to. Do you sing?“

“I am still processing the “no communication with the outside world with no explanation whatsoever as to why“ part, give me a moment. I think I need ibuprofen.“

“Oh, we do have that!“

Soft cloth suddenly fell on your head and you realized it was a towel. You slowly looked upwards, finding yourself face to face with Moon who was now shamelessly hanging upside down from a cord, crimson eyes as menacing as ever and grin impossibly wide.

You spoke, unsure how to even react properly:

“What on earth are you doing?“

“I was feeling excluded. And you needed something to get your hair dry.“

“How did you even get up there? You were at the door barely a few seconds ago.“

“In a very clandestine and stealthy manner, as is currently being demonstrated. Impressed?“

“Fine, yes. Happy?“

Moon giggled like a wicked imp, relishing the situation. Teasing you was slowly becoming his new favourite activity.

“Are you good at playing hide and seek, my everlasting aurora?“

To his surprise, you actually did ponder the answer to his question for a few moments. Finally, you smiled at him:

“The classical game has a predictable pattern, so I actually did invent my own twist once. I would count, the other person would hide, and then I would simply proceed to steal cookies from the kitchen without anyone knowing. Really practical. Free sweets, nobody knows who the culprit is, perfect cost-benefit analysis.“

Oh, he loved that. Moon definitely appreciated some good old-fashioned mischief and he felt an even greater desire to discover what made you tick. He reached with his hand, tracing along your jawline with his claws, before pressing the palm of his hand to your cheek, his wicked eyes never leaving yours.

“Naughty, naughty. You must be punished.“

“Retroactively?“

“With interest.“

“Good luck with calculating all of that. If you start early, you should be done by the next decade, give or take a year or two.“

Moon's mind was already imagining all sorts of scenarios that he had every intention of bringing into reality.

What a delight it would be to have you, play with you, chase you, catch you, taste you, forever and ever. Your blood was tormenting him, you were the golden apple stolen from a magical garden, ripe and delicious. He did not care how many pomegranate seeds it would take to ensnare you and chain you to his world.

One had to admire the dedication, at least.

He was familiar with that sly streak. Finally, a kindred spirit. You had something guileful within you, as if a joyful scherzo were constantly playing in your soul, lively and vivid, truly akin to an ethereal aurora borealis in the night sky, teasing mortals with its unreachable beauty.

Needless to say that Sun was simply not having this and he had to ruin the moment by intervening in the most mature way possible: by taking your pencil away.

“What is this I see? A hawthorn pencil? Quite sharp, I see. No, no, we can't have such a vile thing as hawthorn wood here, absolutely not, in the trash it goes where it belongs.“

You had every intention of arguing with him, but you were once again distracted with the fact that Eclipse was now diligently getting your hair dried with the towel as if you were a kitten they had found outside or something. Goodybe reputation, it was nice knowing you, write a postcard.

“I must say, nobody ever insulted my pencils before.“

Sun went over to the nearby desk, fiddling with some parchment until he found what he was looking for, returning with a triumphant grin on his face and a quill feather in his hand.

“You shall write with one of these.“

“I don't even know how to write with ink without making a mess.“

“Come now, I am sure you are a fast learner.“

You shuddered as he teasingly slid the feather along your cheek and neck.

“Oh, stop.“

We were all familiar with the saying about everything being about the journey and not the destination itself. Perhaps you could allow yourself some enjoyment in the whole affair. In all technicality, you did manage to get in the castle, so it was going well for now. Moon summoned a few ghostly servants to command them to get a comfy chamber prepared for you, as well as some dinner. You were rather tired and hungry, after all.

Eclipse gave your shoulder a little squeeze to get your attention.

“Now, morning star, since you are already here, could I interest you in some pretty necklaces you may like?“

You pondered his offer for a few moments, before shrugging, letting yourself relax.

“You know what? Sure.“

(continuation also on AO3)

#vampire sun #vampire moon #vampire eclipse #sundrop x reader #moondrop x reader #eclipse x reader #sundrop #moondrop #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fnaf eclipse #five nights at freddy's #daycare attendant x reader #daycare attendant #vampire au #jester's privilege chronicles #amary's chronicles

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jjkgyu · 2 years

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BOYFRIEND!BTS: HOW THEY SHOW AFFECTION

thank u so much for 500 followers i love u all !! ♡

kim seokjin

seokjin shows affection by doting on you. he loves to cook your favourite meals for you after hard days. he goes grocery shopping with you and buys anything that you randomly throw in the cart. seokjin showers you with compliments from the minute you get up in the morning, and presses kisses across your face to wake you up. he nags you when you’re not taking care of yourself and runs you baths whenever you feel sick. seokjin is the true gentleman, never letting you strain yourself to open a jar and he always holds the door for you and opens your car door without fail. seokjin catches your eye from across the room and winks at you, and he always talks highly of you in social settings to the point where he can’t help but brag about you.

kim namjoon

namjoon loves to show affection with you. he recommends you his favourite books and movies and he buys you random stuffed toys or little plants that remind him of you. he attempts to cook for you when he knows you’ve had a rough day, and he gives you the most genuine advice to help you. he loves taking you on dates to parks and cafes where the two of you can talk for hours. namjoon wraps you in his jacket whenever you’re cold and he lets you borrow his sweatshirts because he loves how cute you look. he lets you rest your head on his shoulder when he can tell you’re getting tired, and he loves to stroke your hair to help you fall asleep.

min yoongi

yoongi shows a lot of affection in subtle ways. he always passes you heat packs when he notices you’re cold, and he intertwines his hands with yours whenever he’s walking by your side. he keeps an eye on you at all times in social settings and is the type to always defend you if you’re not there. he won’t let you do anything other than rest in bed if you’re sick, and he brings you food and medicine with a forehead kiss. yoongi spends time with your family and becomes close with them because he knows how much it means to you. yoongi never fails to ask about your day, and he drops everything to sit and listen to you talk, running his fingertips along your sides.

jung hoseok

hoseok is the ideal boyfriend when showing affection. he is the type to want to know everything about you, and he listens so intently whenever you speak. he texts you things that remind him of you and he takes you on dates often, wanting to experience new places and new food with you. he picks up your calls on the first ring and he’s logged in to your online shopping accounts so he can buy whatever is in your wishlist. he remembers things that you mention liking and buys them for you - even if it was just a dress that caught your eye while walking past. hoseok watches the shows you recommend and listens to the songs you like, and he picks you up whenever you need a ride home even if it’s 2am.

park jimin

jimin loves showering you with affection. his hands have to be on you in some way at all times - around your waist, on your thighs, holding your hand etc. he gives you advice when you can’t decide what to wear, and he watches you get ready in silence as he admires you with a smirk. jimin taps his card to pay for your shopping before you even notice, and he would never let you pay for anything as long as he’s with you. he keeps up with your daily schedules and notices little changes like haircuts and new nails and always compliments them. he video calls you nearly every single night, no matter how tired he is because he loves seeing you and hearing about your day.

kim taehyung

affection is taehyung’s second language. if he knows you have to be up at a certain time, he’ll wake up 10 minutes earlier to make you a coffee and breakfast and have it by your beside table for when you wake up. he orders you a fresh bunch of flowers every week without fail, and texts you random messages throughout the day because he misses you. taehyung loves coordinating his outfit with yours and buys you so many clothes because he can’t help but spoil you. he writes you cute notes before he leaves in the morning, and remembers all of your orders at different food places. taehyung loves to compliment you and his camera roll is full of photos of the two of you.

jeon jungkook

jungkook is so thoughtful when it comes to affection. he feeds you snacks when you’re watching a movie together, and he lights your favourite scented candles before you come over to his place. he makes playlists of songs that he thinks you’ll like, and he back hugs you whenever you’re doing anything. jungkook loves to pinch your cheeks and he picks you up to kiss you after not seeing you in a long time. he always wants to make sure you’ve eaten and he cooks your favourite foods to cheer you up after a hard day. jungkook shows you any video he finds funny to make you laugh, and he never forgets to ask about your family and how your day was. he takes you out for dinner and calls you as soon as he drops you home, talking for hours until you both fall asleep.

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im-the-j-in-anthony-j-crowley · 2 months

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Good omens is very much about choosing your own side rather than the two proposed sides. Heaven/hell

Having defined this, I offer you the following opportunity:

If you were one of the angels that existed at the beginning of the story, do you think you would have remained in heaven, or would you have fallen?

I know that technically as humans we're not on either side, but technically the angels don't seem to be on either side either, so I'm curious

If you want to read my long attempt to find out where I think I am, it's below

And if anyone wants to comment more on their decision in comments, reblogs, I'd love to read

I want to say demon so badly, I mean, I love chaos, and I have a tendency to want to make situations worse. I'm annoying to no end if you allow me to be. I have the aesthetic, black clothes, 8 rings, necklaces, bracelets, earrings, all very rocker style

But I don't see a reason why they decided to expel me from heaven except... To ask questions? To challenge authority? That's what I'm inclined to do. Say the plan they're making is flawed? People usually don't like it when I say something is wrong (even though I say it with the intention that we can look for a way to improve it)

I feel like the only option is if Crowley really did go out just for asking questions, because that would mean it could be because of this.

I've been making friends with every living thing in the world, I have been obsessed with ethics and learning to identify abusive situations in order to fight them, I love to look for the "best way for all the people involved in something" (Clarification, I am not at all saying that I am excellent at this. I'm just trying to be) when there's a spider in my house I try to get it out the window, unless it looks poisonous. There are poisonous spiders here, but I don't know how to identify them, the preventive measure is to kill any spider that looks like the vague description I have of those poisonous ones

Wait, why am I talking about spiders? Fuck it, I'll choose demon simply because if I were an angel I'd spend all my miracles keeping those damn clothes spotless

Every time I wear clothes that aren't black, I manage to get them dirty within 10 minutes

Which is very rare, because I assure you, THAT DOES NOT HAPPEN WHEN I WEAR BLACK CLOTHING

#good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens 2 #This question has been haunting me all along and I'm surprised I haven't read anything about it in my time here #“My time here” = Two months?#Jay and... Jay what are you doing?

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synthetickitsune · 1 year

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Golden Touch ✧ x.mh

Pairing: Xu Minghao x gn!reader Genre: smut Summary: You shouldn't have asked for spoilers. Then again, there's a lot of things you should and shouldn't have done - like teasing your boyfriend when you know he's shooting. Word count: 3.1k Warnings: smut, dirty talk, choking, scratching, crying, kinda lil' dom/sub dynamics, kinda use of safeword (questionable), some mentions of edging and sexting/sending nudes etc. A/N: Look, I know that he's not wearing claw rings in the mv but just imagine pls

It was a bad idea to ask for spoilers. That much was clear from the beginning. He was so secretive about it that you should’ve known there was a reason for it. And then he finally gave in and sent you a photo. Minghao looks breathtaking every second of the day but something about the traditionally styled dark clothes just makes your mind the equivalent of scrambled eggs. Or is it the extensions? The dark makeup around his eyes? Who knows. The point is - you should’ve been smarter. Because if, perhaps, you were smarter, you’d keep your bratty behavior for the safety of the distance that chatting and voice messages provide.

Or maybe you shouldn’t have been sending them at all. During the whole day. While you knew he was shooting. Maybe you shouldn’t have.

You definitely shouldn't have picked up the phone when he called you back. You shouldn't have let him speak. And most of all - you shouldn't have come to his place. But you did all that and more. Everything you do only seems to come back to bite you in the ass, no matter your intentions. The story of your life, you guess.

When he found you, naked and just about to hop in the shower, he wasted to time in grabbing you by the back of your neck and pushing you against the wall. The pure filth that spilled from his tongue is still swirling somewhere in the back of your head. You hoped you could get out alive.

What you had in mind five minutes ago when you were treating Minghao to the head of his life was to ruin him. Sure, you said you wanted to make it up to him, but you weren’t exactly in the mood to behave on this beautiful day. You wanted to see his eyes roll back, hear his sweet breathless moans and almost inaudible curses in a language you barely recognize when he mumbles it so low. Maybe, just maybe, you wanted him to cry. To make him beg you for release. Nothing strange about it - he just looks and sounds so pretty. That and you like to make yourself so desperate and horny that the prep gets done quick and easy and he can rail you faster.

What you haven’t accounted for, however, was the way he would look when his tears ruined the dark makeup around his eyes and the effect it would have on you. You haven’t accounted for getting distracted and your plan blowing up in your face.

And that's how you got into this situation.

“Minghao,” you whimper, and it’s not with tears blurring your vision, “More, please.”

You’re stuffed full of his cock. He has yet to move since he’s entered you - only after you’ve begged him, naturally, since you’ve teased him with naughty messages, photos, voice messages of your moans and the dirty things you’d like him to do with you first, then with your tongue technology second.

You don't dare to look up into the mirror. The feeling of his ringed fingers around your throat is bad enough for your sanity. You feel the sharp points extending from the golden accessories on his pointer and middle fingers pressing into your skin. Just a warning. A sign that he holds the power; the contrast between his messy face, black trails of whatever the stylists put on him staining his cheeks, and the confident way he holds himself and holds your life in his hand is making you hopelessly under his spell. If it wasn't for his tight grip on your hip and the fact that you were trapped between his body and the bathroom sink, you swear you’d be fucking yourself back on his dick. As it is, you can only hope he will take mercy on you.

“Look me in the eye when you're asking for something,” he orders, “First you rile me up while I’m filming and then you expect me to give you what you want? Don’t be naive, brat.” He’s usually good at hiding how affected he is. Not today. You know he’s not actually angry with you, but you did succeed and got him to come home straight away. You got him so worked up he left with his makeup and costume still on. It really makes you wanna cry and kneel to apologize and beg some more. Anything to make him move.

“Please,” you do as he says instead. You raise your eyes from the clean, almost clinical, surface under your hands and meet his eyes in the mirror. The view is almost enough to make you cum.

First you see the golden claws curled around your throat, so pretty against your skin. A threat; would he cut you with them or would he choke you? Then your eyes travel further up to see the living masterpiece that is Xu Minghao.

He really looks like a mad emperor. His robes only pulled down and aside enough to free his cock. You can imagine the wet spot where your hips connect. His hair is disheveled, lips red and raw, but what gets you clenching hard around him are the dark streams running down his face. God bless heavy black makeup. The marks left behind by his tears as he almost came undone from your mouth alone are so so gorgeous. You’ve seen them before when he pulled you up from your knees, hands shaking, breathing heavily to keep himself from pushing you down and making you finish what you started. You should’ve been prepared - you were not.

“Tell me what you want and I’ll consider it,” he mocks, “If you were good enough.”

You want to. You want to tell him, but your voice fails you. Or rather you can’t remember how to speak. Your eyes lock in the mirror. His cock is so hot and heavy inside you, you swear you can feel every vein with how hard you’re clenching around him. You wiggle your hips, trying to get some satisfaction - trying to show him and get your point across but he shuts that down straight away.

“You’ll make me cum if you keep squeezing me like that,” he growls from behind you, the hand around your throat tightening, “I don’t mind, but I’m not sure you’d be satisfied if you left yourself hanging like that.”

You whine, shaking your head vehemently, but apparently it’s nothing but amusing to him. Of course it is. You can’t stop your walls from trying to milk him. He looks too good. He feels too good, even if it’s not nearly enough. To feel him filling you up is the ultimate cherry on top of your days. Your body is spasming around him, crazed by him. This has to be more than just a simple attraction.

Finally, he moves. Only he carefully thrusts into you quickly, shallowly, chasing his own pleasure. His hand moves from your hip to stroke across your back and ass. He knows your body well. He knows what makes you tick. And so he simply must know that this won’t make you cum. It’s more of his sweet torture.

“Aaah, so tight and good,” he nearly purrs, his hand stroking all over your backside, blunt nails scratching and leaving goosebumps in the wake of his touch, “Just keep clenching like that and we’ll be done in no time at all.”

You will cry. It’s not enough; good but far from what you truly need. You hear him pant, feel him pulse inside and you know he wasn’t bluffing. He will make himself cum using your body and leave you like this. The image does make you clench harder around him - yet at the same time it makes a fresh wave of tears spring into your eyes.

“F-Fuck-” before you can finish the thought, he thrusts into you sharply. It’s so powerful it makes your body ram right into the counter and it takes your breath away. Or is it his hand squeezing the sides of your throat? The tears spill. You can’t breathe. You’re completely at the mercy of his whims.

“Language,” he hisses, “If I knew you had such a dirty mouth I wouldn’t bother with you. I’d just fuck your throat and kick you out.”

You whimper, tears flowing freely as he returns to his selfish thrusts. You can inhale again, desperately gulping down air. If only you could ignore his grunts of pleasure, everything would be easier. Just a little bit. And at this point, you’d take anything.

He speeds up. As if he’s reading your mind just to torment you more. He purposefully fucks you so it only truly pleases him. You whimper, meet his gaze with yours, show him how much you need him but he just smirks and gives you one good thrusts that makes you see stars before he takes the pleasure away again.

“Just a little bit more,” he talks, condescension dripping from his every word, “That’s what brats get.”

Another sharp thrusts. Just to mock you further. You’re losing it.

“You didn’t even tell me what you want and now you expect me to give it to you?” how can his voice be so breathy, so needy, and yet so powerful it makes you submit to him fully, “Are you being bad or are you just so stupid?”

“M-myungho,” your voice breaks as sob wrecks through your body and your head falls forward. You can’t take it anymore. “P-ple-ase.”

You feel him immediately tense up and pull out until only his tip is inside you before he slowly thrusts inside you again. He fucks into you at a languid pace, deep strokes filling you like you wanted and hitting all the good spots. It feels like a dream. You cry out, but he’s right there to shush you.

“Shhh, I got you,” he kisses your shoulder, “You teased me, so I teased you too a little. I got you now, hm? Gonna make you feel good - does this feel good?”

“Mhmm,” you hum through your teeth digging into your lip. His hand caresses down your back and up again, across your shoulder and down your arm until his fingers can slide between yours.

“Yeah?” he checks again, never stopping his movements. While still not quite enough, it brings you the pleasure you craved. It’s a promise of more. And it gives you a moment to breath and collect yourself. “All better, beautiful?”

“Feels so good, Mhm-hm-Minghao,” you whimper and feel him relax. Your hips rock back against his, meeting his thrusts. He lets you, adjusting to the rhythm you seek. His hand squeezes yours, and this time when you start to feel your mind slipping again, you feel on cloud nine.

“Look at me, sweetie,” he whispers into your ear, nosing along your neck. To help the request register, he grips your neck more firmly, hinting for you to raise your neck. You’ve forgotten about the hidden threat and it makes your body heat up all over again like when he grabbed your throat the first time and his claws stabbed into your soft flesh. His other hand disappears only for a moment. When you listen, you realize why.

You meet his eyes, a little hazy and dark. He’s even more of a mess than before. Some fresh black wetness glistens on his cheeks. You clench again seeing him in such a state. He should look fragile, vulnerable, yet he’s anything but. His body is leaned over yours and he holds your hand again. His robe hangs open. You feel his bare chest against your back now that he’s undone the robe, the cloth flowing by the sides of your body. His chin is propped on your shoulder and he gives you a proud smile.

“Just like that. You’re so good for me,” he praises, voice sweet, “Want your Mhm-hm-Minghao to ruin you?”

Him mocking your moans like that shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does. You can’t help it when your walls clench around him again.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles, kissing your shoulder, “How should I do it, hm? Can you use your words for me, darling?”

You can’t. It’s too hard. He’s finally fucking into you and it’s good enough to make your toes curl. Keeping your eyes open is hard enough. Words are too difficult and you want to convey this to him through a desperate look. Minghao seems to understand, cooing at you to take all the time you need - he’ll keep you entertained. His clawed fingers stroke your throat, scratching your skin lightly with the sides of the sharp appendages. They glint in the bathroom light and it’s hypnotizing. You focus on the movement, on the grounding feeling of completely safe danger, and eventually you find your voice again.

“S-slow,” you whine. His dark eyes are too intense, it’s like looking at the sun. He might burn you whole. “W-Wanna feel you.”

“As you wish,” another kiss, “Thank you for telling me. You’re taking me so well.”

Just slightly he speeds up, rolling his hips against yours at a nice pace that allows you to appreciate every inch of him. You try to keep your eyes open as much as you can. You watch him in the mirror; watch the way the golden claws sink into your throat without breaking the skin, watch his mouth fall open in short gasps and his eyelids flutter. You meet his thrusts, moaning softly whenever he brushes against your sweet spot. Even though it’s pointless effort when your eyes keep rolling back, you keep them open. You don’t wanna miss a second of watching Hao’s face.

You know you won’t last long though, and when he speeds up, you know neither will he. The hand on your neck squeezes, lightly, only adding pressure after you hum in consent. You let him choke you as he pounds into you, deep and fast and mind blowing when he again keeps banging you - literally smashing your body - against the hard surface. Not that you have the strength to mind that. You only want to reach your climax, and you want it soon before you won’t have any oxygen left in your lungs but…

“Hao,” you moan, substituting your request with a whine. He understands anyway, grinning at you in the mirror before gently nipping at your earlobe. Only for a second he allows you to breathe, all the sensations fluctuating in their intensity. His hips speed up. You can’t keep your eyes open. You want more. More of his touch. You lean against the hand that’s cutting off your breathing.

“You can cum like this, precious,” he chides breathlessly, “Cum just from my cock. You can do it for me, you’re so good.”

It’s torture. To listen to his breathy voice right next to your ear. His head is leaning against yours, he’s so close and the mirror is fogging with your labored breaths. You can see his hips snap, the robe fluttering with each move. It’s too overwhelming. You can’t breathe. You don’t want to.

“Fuck, where do you want me, pretty?” his voice is whiny, so so close but he wants to grant you one more wish. He lets you breathe, lets you speak. You feel his finger dance across your back. You can imagine the patterns he’d draw there if you allowed him to paint your skin and it nearly makes your knees give up. What’s better? It’s so cruel to make you choose when you’re so gone.

“Just- want you close, please, Hao,” you beg. You don’t know, you just want to feel him, don’t want him to go anywhere. Your walls are so tight around him he feels like he’ll lose his mind if he doesn’t fill you up soon.

“So perfect, so fucking perfect for me, darling,” he praises, his hips snapping against yours. The tension in your tummy grows, tears fill your eyes and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears- “Cum for me. So good, cum on my cock.”

And so you do. With a final call of his name, your climax hits you, your walls milking him as he chases his own high, following suit not long after. His hand closes around your throat firmly, claws dig into your skin. Your walls are sucking him into your warm warm heat. You feel as he spills inside you, the warm sensation in your abdomen maybe even more satisfying than your orgasm. He fucks you both through it until you catch your breaths and your minds clear.

He doesn’t pull out immediately. Instead he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to his warm body - which is a nice change from the cold marble of the counter. He rubs slow circles over your tummy and it’s so comforting but at the same time you wonder - if he pressed a little, could you feel him better inside you? He gasps as you clench around him.

“Love you,” you whimper helplessly. He murmurs those two words right back. His voice is so soothing when he wants it to be.

“Everything alright?” he asks, leaving tender kisses all over your neck, “Was I too mean in the beginning?”

“No, you were perfect,” you hum, still a little drunk on endorphins and having him so close, looking like that, “It just got too much, but you reacted really quickly. Thank you.”

“Thank you for trusting me,” he smiles, “One more minute, shower, then bed?”

“Sounds good.”

He holds you close, careful not to move and overstimulate you. You’re so tired. You’re so happy to be held, you just want to curl up close to him. Your lips meet his, and in between slow and loving kisses he showers you in praises. You try to compete with him but he’s not a loser. As praises turn into reassurances and sweet nothings and mutual appreciation, your position also changes. You finish the shower and your night routines. You help him wash his face and he puts lotion on the bruises the counter left on your hips, talking in hushed voices all the while.

As you lie down in bed and cuddle under the blankets, the competition continues without a winner until you fall asleep.

He usually sleeps on his half of the bed, but when he wakes up the next day, he smiles fondly seeing he slept through the night with you in his arms.

Right where you belong.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut #the8 x reader #the8 smut #minghao x reader #minghao smut

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eldritch-spouse · 1 year

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I wanna peg Grimbly so bad and praise the fuck out of him the whole time. Like yes pretty boy, look at you taking it so well! Keep making those sweet little sounds and cum nice and hard for Mommy❤️

[( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) yes.]

TW: Obviously mommy kink; Minor degradation (giving).

You don't know how it ended this way.

Or, well, you should have seen it coming. Yes, that's more accurate overall.

You already have a natural urge to gravitate towards his kind. Petite, needy, girly. It was hard to think twice about how eager Grimbly was to spend time with you, supposedly a complete stranger, when you were very much dazzled by his cuteness. You know now you're a fool, that you're trapped with a scarily possessive, jealous freak of a monster man who wants to monopolize every second of your life.

It's almost horrifying how someone so small and precious-looking can hold so much malice inside.

Luckily, Grimbly doesn't seem intent in tearing you down, or sucking you dry like a bloodthirsty mosquito- He just wants something very simple, as he puts it.

Your love and attention. Forever.

The mommy thing... Well, while it did shock you how quickly he dropped that bomb on you, Grimbly always had this knowing look to his bright magenta eyes, somehow knowing you were into it, daring you to say otherwise. You rolled with it. Just as you rolled with his desire to be increasingly femme for you, to be under your supposed control and brag about how "possessive" you are to others.

While all of this was decidedly very scary and tentative for you, and at times continues to be, especially considering some of his prior tantrums- You can't really say that it isn't sexually satisfying. Because it is. More than it should be.

It's hard to stay mad at his underhanded little tactics when he flashes you a puppy look and agrees with your scolding, gets flustered by your anger- Tells you to discipline him.

It's mind-boggling how much control this bat monster has over you. You suppose you should be thankful that he doesn't need that much to stay happy. Just a draining level of attention and babying that is steadily becoming more second nature than a chore to you.

" Babyboy? " You call idly, slicking the purple length on your strap.

It's a lengthier one this time. Several bumps give it texture. Considering Grimbly's small size, you think he could be biting off a bit more than he's able to chew here, but the monster's been training with you for this, so you'll trust him if he says he's ready. Aside from the strap, you wear nothing but a flimsy white robe.

A tap tap tap tap rings out, nearing. It's him, those pointed feet that always intrigued you so making their way over. Tip tip tip tap-

The door to the bedroom opens and your short, ever-pretty boyfriend walks in. You don't know what he was up to these past moments, Grimby just said he needed to prepare. Though, the moment you turn around to face him, hand still around the silicone cock, you freeze.

He's... He dressed for the occasion.

A... A maid's dress? Sort of? Yes, a very light pink, frilled maid's dress. He didn't say anything about roleplaying, but you could roll with it, especially since it looks soooo cute on his petite figure. It looks bouncy and hugs his waist perfectly, there's- Oh lord, he even put a bow around his tail, this goof. You know he must have spent a small fortune on those custom elbow-length gloves too. Has he been planning this for long?

You silently raise an eyebrow at Grimbly.

" A-Ah so- What do you think, mommy? " He does a twirl just for good measure, a dust of color to his cheeks.

" I think it's gorgeous baby- But when did you buy that? " God, you really hope he did it with his own money, that shit looks fucking expensive. You cannot take another blow to your wallet right now.

The bat waves. " I- Well, I actually had it for a couple of weeks now! You know, sometimes we have to dress nicer for big occasions, and I'm thinking of bringing this one to work... " He pauses, now twiddling his fingers and avoiding looking you in the eye. " ... But I wanted you to help me make a good memory in it first. "

A blood vessel bursts somewhere in your body.

That's right, he's a waiter. At that really odd place he keeps talking about. It's strange, you've asked to see it before but your vampiric little pest keeps insisting it's not that important. That not a lot of humans go there, that his coworkers are kinda lame. Smells fishy, he clearly avoids talking about his job, and while that puts you off a tad, you know Grimbly isn't as cutesy and innocent as he looks- So maybe it really is wise not to push him on this topic.

" You want to get railed in your new work outfit? My, what a dirty boy. " You snicker.

He winks, flashing you his tongue.

" Lift it. " You order.

" H- Huh? "

There's a beat of stunted silence.

" Lift that skirt, I want to see what's beneath it. "

The small monster "hum"s and "ha"s a couple more times, heat steadily pooling on that pale face while his legs shimmy together. He doesn't dare defy you for long, grabbing the hem and slowly dragging it up to reveal-

Nothing.

Exactly as you expected.

" Tsk, and you think that's decent? "

He shakes his head, but his tail wags.

You march up to the monster, delighting in the confusion shining through those big round eyes as you grab him by the exposed slit none too gently. Grimbly yelps, quickly curling forward.

" What's stopping anyone from just walking up to you and taking what they want, huh? "

He gasps, caught up in the feeling of you rubbing at him incessantly, evoking all the finesse of a greasy pervert who'd want nothing more than to cop a feel of his local waitress- Probably some of the creeps he has to deal with.

" Answer me, babyboy. "

" N- Nothing! "

" Exactly. " You jam two fingers into him, neither slow nor careful, hooking them for good measure. " What's stopping me from touching you everywhere, from using you like the common fucking street whore? "

" Nothing mommy- " He's teary-eyed already, trying to grind onto the sudden intrusion.

Tutting quietly, you take several steps back, keeping your digits firmly inside his wet hole so Grimbly has to follow as well, effectively being led around by the slit. There's no curbing the smirk that decorates your face when you feel his cock brush your hand, jumping in excitement at being manhandled.

You lead him to the bed, picking Grimbly up with little effort -Thank fuck he's so light- And tossing him onto the sheets. He lands on his back, dress scrambled, already biting his lip. The lack of a barrier allows his equally cute cock to slip out, and some part of you thinks he should have put a bow on it too. To complete the look.

" Did you prep? " You ask, climbing on after him, hands on his legs.

" Y- Yes, mommy. " Sure enough, once you spread them, you find his hole wet with the shine of lube already.

" Good boy. "

You flip him around mid-purr, always happy to be able to handle him so roughly. It's a novelty.

Grimbly's practiced enough to raise his ass and plant his head on the pillows, tail kept out of the way as he grinds against your faux member. Needy slut. You know you could slam inside and he would probably only moan for more.

A devious idea pops into your head.

" M- Mommy? " The bat monster questions when you refuse to initiate anything. " ... Please fuck me? "

Hah cute, he thinks you want him to beg.

" No baby, I want you to work for it. "

You know you're treading a line here, Grimbly's such a pillow princess, it's a challenge to get him to move it. He whines already.

" Ah ah, none of that. " Curving over him, your thighs dwarfing his, you whisper where his ear would be. " You're going to fuck yourself on my dick, and then maybe, I'll give you that plowing you want so bad... "

You're close enough to feel his whole body shudder.

" Got it, sweetie? "

Grimbly moans something incomprehensible, shifts so the very tip of the silicone toy prods at his entrance, and turns to look at you with a heated nod.

Even if you don't feel a lick of it, the sight of him sliding back onto your girth is hot enough that you both moan in unison.

#Grimbly oc

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fleshbarbie · 2 years

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more robin x bimbo!reader thoughts ...

okay so this is gonna be more of a headcanon’s type of post but i do really wanna write a whole imagine/fic for them one day !!! just lack of inspo / motivation rn :(

ANYWAYS <33

can definitely see everyone (the gang) being shocked when they find out you’re together (let’s just pretend robin has come out to the hawkin’s gang - not just steve) because you’re both just so different ??

like robin is all dirty converse and stevie nicks and you’re all madonna and pretty dresses. but somehow you both just mix perfectly and couldn’t be happier together.

there’s definitely been a few times you’ve tired to do robin’s make up, the whole lot we’re talking eyeshadow and blush and lipgloss, and though she admits yes it looked amazing (you’re very talented) she would never leave the house with it all on.

she’s in awe of how put together you look all the time, literally no matter what time it is or what day it is or if you have plans or not .. you’re always done up. not a hair out of place and it baffles her, because how is it 7am and you’re all done up with that breathtaking smile on your face?

though when she sleeps over at your house, she gets the pleasure of seeing you bare face with your hair thrown up and she falls for you even harder.

you definitely talk her through your skincare routine which has her furrowing her brows. “you really do all this? i just brush my teeth and call it a night.”

trying to coordinate your outfits !!! if she decides she’s wearing her checkered shirt, you’re 100% wearing your identical checkered skirt to match. if she’s at work, you’re definitely putting on your green leather jacket to meet up with her.

you mention your love for her rings once and she’s showing up to your house the next day with a bunch of identical ones for you to wear which almost has you crying at the sweet gesture.

your style definitely gets a lot of attention from the rest of hawkin’s, with your short skirts and dresses, you’re definitely confident with your body and don’t mind flaunting what you have which she loves but sometimes it attracts the wrong kind of attention.

and you’re so sweet and naive, you couldn’t sense someone’s wrong intentions from a mile away so robin definitely feels protective over you and she’s always keeping an eye on you if you ever drift away from her in public.

pulling your skirt down for you if it raises, coming between you and any guys who are either flirting with you or trying to take a peek down your shirt, happily handing over her jacket if your start to feel uncomfortable with all the attention you’re receiving.

you are constantly trying to take pictures of her / both of you together and she isn’t the biggest fan of it .. she always tries to hide whenever you point the camera her way so a lot of pictures you take have to be when she’s not aware. but your room is littered with polaroid’s of the both of you together, your favourite is taped to your mirror and you admire it every morning and night.

a little bit nsfw but i would definitely say you’re eachothers firsts. and the first time you do anything together it’s a little sloppy, a little messy but you both finish in the end so you count it as win. as time goes on you both get better at learning about eachothers bodies and it’s not long before your skills go from c- to a+.

going to visit robin at work and coming back from the break room with swollen lips and hickeys which has steve rolling his eyes but neither of you care, both sharing looks and giggling as you realise you weren’t being subtle at all.

omg driving robin to work when she sleeps over at your place the night before and leaving a big kiss on her cheek which always leave a lipstick stain which she never bothers to wipe off until keith starts lurking (because she knows he’ll make her wipe it off) !!!

i feel like once you begin dating and you become apart of the group, eleven definitely looks up to you because she’s more girlier than any of the other girls in the group. (max & erica are definitely more tomboy-ish imo ??). she’s not as girly as you of course but she’s always coming to you if she needs advice on outfits or wants to start learning how to do make up, etc.

nancy is also someone who comes to you whenever she needs advice, maybe she’s got a date with jonathan and isn’t sure what to wear or how to style the new dress she bought. you’re definitely her first thought !!! robin is always joking that you should start charging people for your time.

but overall the gang loves you (especially steve) because it’s so obvious you make robin very happy and robin deserves to have someone that makes her feel that way. they practically welcome you with open arms and you all grow very close so quickly.

last point i’m gonna make about the gang !!! but omg imagine will coming to you when he’s confused about his feelings for mike & you’re like the only person (besides his brother & mom ofc) that he feels comfortable enough with coming to with these thoughts. i <3 will so much.

ok back to you & robin ... she’s constantly helping you out with things that confuse you. you’re aware you aren’t the brightest but she’s so patient with you, never getting angry or annoyed if you still don’t understand things after she’s explained them 3/4 times already.

celebrating like every holiday together. on halloween you’re wearing matching costumes, on christmas you’re going to eachother’s houses and swapping gifts, on easter you’re buying a heap of chocolate and watching movies together, on thanksgiving you’re either at hers with her family or she’s at yours with your family.

sometimes she lays next to you in bed, watching you sleep (in a non creepy way) and can’t believe how lucky she got with you. she remembers how crushed she was when she found out vickie had a boyfriend, constantly ranting to steve about how her love life was doomed and she was going to be alone forever. but then you turned up and just ??? changed her life completely. she was forever grateful for you and planned on keeping you in her life as long as you’d let her.

now i need to write an actual fic because i’m so head over heels for robin buckley guys it’s so bad.

—

TAGS:

@munsonslunchbox

#robin buckley x bimbo!reader #robin buckley headcanons #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things drabble #robin buckley

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idv-sunsxin3 · 3 months

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Click // Dating Headcanons

Note// I also love this boy here - ever since day 1 and before I even got him. It was even funny the fact that he was a 5 star who came home before Sweetheart and Bkornblume and after Balloon Party,,, his lore put me in tears like;;; <//3

___

Click is always that one figure looking and observing the crowd from the background. Even seeing often as the one who records every memory in a sanctuary like the suitcase, through his trusty camera.

He is a quiet ghost, but one with guts of a true man...

He is the one who has no single fear cell on stepping landmines and explosions during a ruthless war... despite his role as the photographer, he doesn't guarantee his life from being taken away by the battlefield.

Yet...

Why was he paralyzed whenever he tries to talk to you..?

Is it because of the way you talk? The way you try to console others when they argue at one another? The way you smile...?

No, it couldn't be... he is always like this even when you get mentioned - as if your name is what keeps a bell ringing on his head.

...There is no point holding back, however. He would be the person who may often be less verbal, yet whenever he speaks, it is always something straightforward. There is no need for explanations.

You can remember the time you first saw him. It was quite unexpected in your opinion - encountering a ghost somewhere inside the suitcase after you got recruited by Vertin...

It doesn't mean it was a bad experience, of course.

"Hi."

You softly say, your eyes not looking away as you admire the sight of the celestial looking figure. Despite his torn and ripped edges of his garment.

"...."

The spirit doesn't respond... Instead, he prepares his camera to angle it towards you before taking a picture. The sound of flashing can be heard from the tool as you couldn't get the chance to react what he just did -

"... Your surprised look is.. pleasant..

please wear it often." The transparent figure finally says something, despite not exactly answering to your greeting.

It sounded strange... but you didn't get weirded out by it somehow. It's probably by how pretty he looks you just couldn't bring yourself judge so soon... You're quite understanding.

Little by little, you sometimes find the silent ghost looking in your direction through the crowds. Even when you both are in a room yet in a decent distance from one another. His eyes are droopy and looking tired, yet always have this gaze of longing when your eyes meet.

He doesn't seem to intent in approaching you at times after the last time he spoke to you, which is when he asked if he can take pictures of you.

Camera shy or not, you didn't seem fazed by his question and allowed him so as if it was just some kind of way to pass the time for him...

He is a ghost. What else can he do besides floating around?

That question made yourself feel sorry for him... even sad that he doesn't get to be... human ever again at such a young age. Yet, you wonder what does he usually feels while in such a current state.

After a few days of knowing him, he is never likely to take pictures as blackmail nor the type to just share pictures of people to others..

So mostly if he wants to, he would just watch you from afar and sometimes sneak some shots whenever you laugh, smile, blabbering about other things that seem to make you happy... All those little things managed to get into his memory to the point that he slowly got to know you from afar.

There are times you catch him organizing portfolios, even admiring his work silently and sometimes giving compliments about his skills in his takes.

The point where you once gave him constructive criticism intrigued him - that he even seems to become a bit inspired and to try to ask you more about your opinions in the takes next time.

He would randomly appear beside you after a small sounds of wood being penetrated can be heard as a warning... you barely got used to it in the first time, but quickly catch on the cues and look forward to his silent visits.

"...I was wondering if you could share some thoughts about this portfolio I made." He once says calmly as he lowers his camera to search the folder from his bag. I'm looking at you for any answers with a hint of curiosity.

When you come back to the suitcase, he just happens to be straight away and floating beside you. Or when you're at the same party setup, he would often be behind you to look after you. Even when you're not around, he doesn't seem to do anything else but put maintenance on his camera, checking out the photos he recently took, and floating around wanderlessly until he can sense you coming back from exploration.

He probably admitted his feelings for you without exactly confessing(?) He just happened to be in a small talk with you. Often being beside or appearing out of thin air whenever you have to depart to a different location.

When it seems like it is the right moment, he would be quick to act and appear beside you to ask for some of your time to speak with him.

"I have to say this before I forget..." He says as he faces you with that same look yet in such a gentle voice, "You're a company I didn't know I would need it the most... Thank you."

It wasn't exactly a real confession in his eyes but more like a simple, honest statement from him. Having this friendship slowly blooming, he doesn't seem to mind keeping it that way, until you asked if you can both be something more than just pookies... He would still be happy nonetheless, even if he doesn't seem to show it.

Throughout the relationship, there is never enough with Click taking pictures of you. He could have made a shrine out of it if he can, yet he doesn't. He honestly doesn't desire for others to see your pictures... they're special for his eyes... His pride and joy. Anything else can be shown to the world, but he won't exchange anything if it means to show those little cameos of yours... it's an unspoken rule for him.

Click's way of affection is definitely far from touch... since he sadly can't do that. But whenever you feel down, he is silently willing to give you quality time and some words of affirmation...

He may not be often good in expressing himself.... but when he cant find the words, his willingness to give you soft whispers, gazing longingly into your eyes, while trying to make his transparent hand seem to trembly hover over yours can tell many things that he wish to express them to you.

#reverse: 1999 x reader #reverse: 1999 #reverse 1999 #reverse 1999 click #r1999 x reader #r1999 #r1999 click #click x reader

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ravcns · 9 months

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Champagne Problems

bruce wayne x fem!reader

summary: bruce wayne didn’t have the best track record when it came to love this time was no different

Billionaires did not take the train late at night, especially in Gotham of all cities. The car he was sitting in filled with people finally leaving their day jobs or on the way to a night one; all of them too out of it to notice the elite member of society among them. Sure once he was off and wormed his way through the swarms of people in the station maybe a few of them noticed, but nobody dared to say anything. Bruce looked forward to arriving home and seeing what everyone was getting up to, needing the distraction. He still didn’t know how he was going to explain to Alfred why he never called to be picked up. So he decided to keep it vague and just send a text letting the older man know he was on his way home.

Yes, you were very well aware of Bruce Wayne’s status and the rumors surrounding him. Just because you lived in Metropolis didn’t mean you lived under a rock. Maybe it was the fancy over the top dates, the way he always knew what to say in any situation, or the fact that his family was so welcoming. Everything was just so overwhelming and felt like it was all happening way too fast. Before you knew it on Fridays was family dinner; ‘family’ as in you being apart of it. There was the unspoken question ‘would you be here to stay?’ that lingered in the atmosphere. Jason and Dick would always try to be discreet and fail by asking different variations of the question where you saw yourself in a few years, Damian asked what your intentions with his father were and even a few times when you were out with him and your co-worker’s son blatantly would ask if you would be marrying Bruce, and the times Bruce tried to get Alfred to drive you places for errands which you politely declined each time. They were all very kind people but you didn’t need a personal driver for everyday errands and you weren’t stupid enough to tell the son of the man you were dating if you would end up marrying his father just yet.

“Are you sure that you don’t mind?” You questioned the man next to you once again, gathering your things. “Y/n, it’s fine go enjoy your date.” Clark said with a smile. “I would prefer to stay here. I don’t really enjoy over the top things.” You explained, picking up your purse. “It’s a pretty nice place I looked it up who knows something unexpected may happen.” He stated, grabbing the papers on your desk. “Why are you speaking like you know something I don’t?” You asked. “Hey I’m just saying.” He continued, “Now go you don’t wanna be late.” You laughed at his antics, “Okay Kent I’m leaving. Text me if you need any help.” Then you walked towards the elevator and pressed the button for the ground level. “Yeah, she’s leaving now.” Clark said into his phone as the elevator doors closed.

Looking back at you was a foreign person for a second you thought that the mirror was playing tricks on you. In your childhood and teenage years even today you would never be able to afford the luxury of randomly buying a dress over one grand or wearing fancy jewelry. You still had the first pair of diamond earrings your grandma gave you when you were fourteen. It still amazed you that in the eleven months of dating Bruce not once have the two of you been in the tabloids. No doubt that he had something to do with it though since you had mentioned how you never really liked too much attention, preferring to write articles rather than being the topic of them.

Bruce knew that you hated fancy dinners and preferred something casual but was it wrong to spoil his girlfriend every once in awhile, especially on a night like this one. He gave himself a once-over in the mirror, making sure his suit was crisp and his hair was well kept before leaving in the car with Alfred. During the two hour ride the weight of his mother’s ring in his pocket was heavy. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he wanted to spend his life with you, despite not being together for a long time. He would imagine sitting you down and explaining his secret identity to you and depending on your reaction maybe even begging you to stay because while he was Batman he would promise that no matter what you would always come first. Even though it was quite dangerous he kept a picture of you in both his wallet and in the batmobile on a keychain. Bruce liked to be reminded of you whenever whether it be while he was working at Wayne Enterprises or when he was out on patrol during the night.

Immediately your boyfriend greeted you with a kiss on you were in the backseat with him. You and Alfred said your hellos and you asked how the older man had been. He would crack a joke or two something along the lines of, “You know, Master Bruce has been real unbearable without you around. It’s almost like he’s back in highschool.” To which you would laugh and poke fun at the man seated next to you. While you had a great amount of love for Bruce this would also add to the brewing anxieties of the night that you did your best to hide. It didn’t seem that he caught on though because the smile that you adored so much was still displayed on his features. You leaned in and whispered to him, “You need to start smiling more it’s cute.” “I have been since you came around.” He responded back, matching your quiet tone.

You didn’t favor the idea of going out on an expensive date, however, you had to admit Bruce outdid himself with this one. It was candlelit but the dining room still had dim lights around, gorgeous pieces of artwork adorned the walls, multiple doors were open that led out to balconies like the one next to your table so you could view the fading colors of the sky, and there was even live music a few couples some old and some young were already up and dancing with one another in a different area. The dinner part of it went smoothly; the food was like nothing you ever had before, conversation always came easy between the both of you so no problem there, and the orchestra even played a version of a song you enjoyed at some point; that’s when Bruce led you to dance as ‘Enchanted’ had started. No matter what form the song was in you could recognize the instrumental in a heartbeat.

“I don’t suppose they usually play Taylor Swift songs.” You said as your hands rested on his shoulders. By now a piano had slowly joined in on the melody. “Maybe I pulled a few strings.” He joked. “That was cheesy but I’ll forgive you because this is amazing.” You responded. All the anxiety you had previously had washed away throughout the night. You were wrapped up in the moment when he spoke, “Y/n.” You made a sound of acknowledgment. “These past eleven months have been amazing with you and watching how you interact with my family I have realized something.” He stated. “What?” You asked him still very much caught up in the moment. “I don’t wanna sit here and not be honest. I am very well am aware that I have a reputation but that’s not me or what I want. What I want more than anything is to be with you.” His words slowly bought you back to your senses and what was happening sunk in. He continued, “I can’t speak for you but I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want go to get ice cream on 47th street, keep sitting on the hill at the park on Saturdays to watch the stars, go to your painting classes with you, and I want to wake up next to your everyday.” The brutal reality of his confession to you had hit the nail on the coffin, causing you to drop his hand and stop dancing. Your eyes darted around the balcony briefly before you spoke, “Bruce, I love you and you know that but-” He cut you off, “Please let me just.” He was reaching into his suit pocket now. You stopped him before he could. “That is a permanent commitment and while you are the most amazing thing that has happened to me and I love you I am not ready for that.”

It seemed he was really stunned by your words and got way too into his thoughts so you had to stop him. “I’m not saying it will never happen my love but give it time. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” You said as you hugged him. “I have work in the morning and can tell you need some time to think. Also I refuse to let you pay for my meal after that I think it’s only fair.” He didn’t say anything back. “Look at me Bruce, I share your sentiment I do. We have so much time to figure this all out so let’s do it together, okay?” You said. He finally spoke, “Okay.” You shared a kiss and went to pay your half of the bill, cursing the fact that it was $180 but still swiping your card. Before you left you looked back and saw him crestfallen and not moving on the balcony. Against your better nature you didn’t move to comfort him though. Already you had said your piece and needed him to understand that.

It seemed that your luck had not lasted though because you woke up to a multitude of notifications on your phone; people requesting to follow your socials, family and friends demanding an explanation, your mother out of everyone seemed livid and insisted you call her, and a message from Clark apologizing with a link to something. When you opened the link the title taunted you. ‘Bullet Dodged: Gold Digger Declined Bruce Wayne’s Proposal?’ You scoffed at the idea and checked your notifications but noticed there were none from him or his family. Nobody even checked in which you hated to admit hurt. The comments were mainly slandering you, your job, looks, or background. Somehow these people wrote a mini biography on you. The only rational thing was to temporarily deactivate your social media first. Some of the comments on the article claimed Bruce deserved it for his ‘playboy persona’, but the man you knew was not like that. ‘She’s actually really pretty and would’ve been a lovely bride if she wasn’t as fucking stupid to not accept his proposal. I mean people there say he poured his heart out to her. Yikes.’ That comment stuck out in particular with over 678k likes.

You called up your Co-worker who immediately answered, “Y/n we are doing everything to get it taken down.” He informed you. “To hell with it, They want me to be the bad guy but leave out the part where I said that we have time to figure it out and should hold off for a bit.” You continued, “I hate to do this because it’s my job but I’m calling in sick today and I need you to email me copies of the joint article we have been working on. It’s not on my personal laptop here.” Clark obliged to your request and once again apologized. Once you were off the phone you did something you don’t usually do, going into the depths of your cabinet and grabbing a bottle of champagne. Day drinking was never your thing unless you were out the some friends but today you made an exception. All you could think of was the fact of how fucked the whole situation was as you drank straight from the bottle.

#dc imagine #dc comics #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x female!reader #bruce wayne angst

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noodyl-blasstal · 6 months

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Super-ish

It's day 9 of @taznovembercelebration and I drew "superhero AU". Taako's speed dating to save the puppy orphans!

Read below or on Ao3 and find yesterday's prompt here.

The bell clangs loudly and it can't come soon enough. It's a melody, a sweet symphony of horrible bell janglies because it means Taako gets to move on.

When Magnus told him there was a speed dating event to raise money for the puppy orphanage Taako definitely, 100%, absolutely told him it was a fucking stupid idea. He knows those words came out of his face, near certainly followed by 'what nerd's gonna show up to that?' Apparently him? Apparently he's the nerd that's gonna show up to it. He doesn't know how it happened, it's like he blacked out and woke up with at least twenty of the worst men in the city taking turns to talk at him.

Magnus looks so pleased with himself, he and Julia are holding hands, even when Magnus rings the bell. They keep looking at him expectantly every time too. He has to keep giving them a small head shake and destroying their dreams of finally pairing him off and getting to go on double dates. Taako's the perma third wheel baby, get used to it.

Honestly, Taako was sick of his single status, and maybe that was how Magnus wore him down. He tried at first, he did, but there were only so many times he could be talked at tonight. His most promising match so far seemed to be the spider magician. If he wasn't in a fucking cult he'd probably be a great bet, but the guy's deep in the sauce. Also, Taako and Brian?? Terrible. There's no mystery in it. What are they gonna portmanteau to? Taian? Braako? Bad. No way. Taako needs sophistication, he needs...

"Kravitz." Says the, admittedly handsome, dude he plunks himself down opposite. Something's gotta be wrong with him. He's wearing a three piece suit, a nice one, his tie has a tasteful skull pattern and Taako wanted to inspect his raven collar pin. He wanted to inspect a lot of things about Kravitz. Corporate goth with flair, most other people were in jeans and a t-shirt... or their spider magic uniform.

"So, what're you in for?" Taako asks. He's long given up on the suggested questions on the sheet. He doesn't know if he cares about this guy's job yet, or if he wants kids or likes sports.

"I'm here to find true love, obviously... Taako?" Kravitz glances at Taako's name badge and actually pronounces it right, suspect behaviour, if you ask him, along with taking this seriously.

Kravitz manages to hold his face in a sappy smile for a few moments before he cracks and laughs. "My friend bullied me into it. Bought me a ticket, drove me here with her wife. I've actually possibly been kidnapped - do you think I need to tell anyone?"

"Hmmm, are you having a bad time? I think it's only kidnap of you're not enjoying yourself."

"Then it's partial kidnap. I wasn't having a good time before , but I am now."

Okay, so he was funny too, funny and handsome, Taako likes funny and handsome. Taako can work with funny and handsome, especially if he keeps flirting.

"How about you? Why are you here?" Kravitz asks and leans in like he's interested in the answer.

"I have no idea. Not in a 'they knocked me out and put me in a trunk and now I'm here' way, more a 'my friend turned every ounce of his enthusiasm on me and I got caught in the tractor beam and now I'm here' way."

Kravitz nods sympathetically, like he understands, like the same thing could happen to anyone.

"That's him, over there, staring intently at us right now." Taako waggles his fingers at Magnus, who raises his eyebrows questioningly. "He's the most married man I know who isn't my brother in law."

"Gross." Says Kravitz happily and waves at Magnus too, probably giving him false hope. Magnus looks delighted.

"Anyway..." says Kravitz, "...down to business, if you could fly to the moon via any object and have one cheese as a snack, what would you choose?" Kravitz picks up his pen to take notes like he's taking this seriously, like he's considering Taako as a life partner. Wild.

But... the thing is, Taako likes to win.

"Unicorn." He replies immediately. "With two horns. If Taako's going to the moon he's gonna go in style."

"What's the unicor... Binicorn? called?" Okay, Kravitz is operating near his level, he knows how to play.

"Binicorn, thank you for respecting Garyl's identity. Now, cheesewise, cheesewise you got me because there's options, see, there's manchego because it's smooth and it's got the fun texture; but could cha'boy whip up a baked camembert with hot honey and garlic?"

Kravitz considers for a moment, then nods. "I'll allow it." He jots some things down on his black notepad with his silver ink pen. It was covered in tiny bats.

Taako admires the commitment to aesthetic theme. Taako also desperately, passionately, needs to know what he's writing. It'd better be "hottest man alive, great cheese opinions, 69/10"

"But the problem is, the problem is, that cave aged cheddar exists. It's got the bits."

"The mineral chunks!" Kravitz adds with enthusiasm.

"A man of taste I see!"

"I like to think so."

Kravitz sounds like he's flirting. Taako was probably flirting? He oozed it apparently, had no idea it was happening most of the time. People got angry about it sometimes, but you can't lead someone on if you don't know you're doing it.

"How about you, cheese and object?"

"Giant raven, mozzarella shreds straight out of the bag." Kravitz doesn't even look ashamed.

He's disgusting, he's perfect.

The bell rings, loud and unwelcome. It's far too soon, Magnus clearly fucked up the timings, but some guy is walking over here like he's planning to sit down?

"Keep it moving, kemosabe, this seat's taken."

Maybe he should have checked with Kravitz before engaging this plan, but he hasn't objected, so Taako's going to assume he's on board.

Magnus looks confused and gives the bell another jangle while looking straight at Taako - which means he misses the chaos it causes as everyone else stands up and rotates again. Julia tugs their conjoined hands and gently guides him away from ringing a third time.

"Nope." Taako doesn't even look round at the second guy. He's absolutely not budging, this is the first conversation even vaguely worth his time. Goth boy is his now, actually.

"Thank you." Kravitz looks relieved enough that Taako doesn't feel any guilt. "You're stuck with me now, you can't throw me back into the man pit."

"If you insist, but the man pit sounds intriguing."

"The man mines?"

"Yeah, okay, Taako doesn't do heavy labour."

"I bet you did while you were carrying all those prior conversations." Kravitz wiggles his eyebrows, dork.

"Speaking of which what's your shit superpower?" Taako asks. "I mean, you can tell Taako if you can stop time or whatever too, cha'boy isn't a snitch, but this is about the day to day powers." Taako kind of hopes he can stop time, honestly, then he doesn't have to worry about Magnus' bell ringing.

"I run the perfect bath every time." Kravitz barely hesitates, just has it ready to go.

"You know how you like your bath?" Taako's not convinced Kravitz understands the question.

"Oh, no, you misunderstand me, anyone, no matter who, I can run them the perfect bath." Kravitz looks totally confident. It's weirdly sexy. Maybe it has been too long since Taako dated...

"Run many baths for strangers, have you?"

Kravitz winces slightly, oh, now Taako's intrigued.

"There was this whole thing in college." Kravitz begins.

This sounds like it's going to get unhinged. Taako needs to know this story right now immediately. He rests his chin on his hand and may or may not flutter his eyelashes a little, no one can prove anything one way or another.

Kravitz looks like he's running sums in his head, big ones, difficult ones, with scary number teeth.

"You can't dangle something like that and then stop!" Taako needs to hear.

"It... well... when I..." Kravitz starts, then seems to find his feet. "Sloane, my married friend, off of kidnapping me fame."

Taako nods to show he follows.

"We went to college together, in Goldcliff."

Taako winces.

"Yeah, exactly. We were full ride scholarships, but most people were so posh and so rich and so unaware. The cost of everything there was ridiculous - so we needed money."

It's a shame Kravitz isn't loaded, but at least he's not saddled with college debt and was smart enough for someone to give him money about it.

"I ran Sloane a bath one time after she had a hellish shift at the roller skate diner and I guess she mentioned offhand that I ran the perfect bath because Johann asked if I'd do one for him and he was a friend so I did and he loved it." There's definitely pride in his tone. This is incredible, Taako wants to study him. Lup's gonna get a kick out of this.

"Sloane thought it was the perfect rich people nonsense magnet - pay 40 quid for the perfect bath. Pocket change to them, a week of food for us."

Taako nods as if this is a reasonable plan, a completely normal thing to do with one's time. "Bath consultant, right, of course."

"Oh, no, no no Taako, there's no consultation, I just do it. Wham, bam, perfect bath every time. It was weird enough that they'd pay it to test it out, and then they'd tell their friends and their friends would test it out. Snowballing. Bathballing." Kravitz looks so earnest, so keen for Taako to understand the magnitude of his powers.

"You bathballed your way through college?" Taako adores this man. He's going to pick him up so carefully, take him home and put him in a special box and just look at him.

Kravitz nods. "What can I say? I'm talented."

He looks so self confident, so pleased with himself, Taako's probably being goaded right now... But, but...

"What kind of bath do I like?"

"I can't tell you."

"Is it illegal?"

"I can't describe the perfect bath, and if I tried you might do something that gives me an indication of what you like which is cheating. I don't need to cheat. I have to just do it."

Okay, Taako's in. "What're you doing after this, handsome?"

"Running you a bath?"

"You can run us both a bath, if you'd like."

Kravitz's smile is wide, but he pretends to take a second to consider anyway. "Hmmm... What's your shit power? You'll need to show me yours if I show you mine."

Taako laughs lightly. "You're never going to believe this, Kraveroo, but cha'boy makes the perfect breakfast. Whatever you're craving in the morning will be what Taako already decided to make."

"I can't wait."

I hope you enjoyed! Want to read more? Find the next prompt here.

#taz balance #noodyl writes #taz november celebration #taz nc #taz fic #taakitz #taako #Kravitz

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