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littleroaes · 7 months

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Boys In Cat's Clothing pt.2 (100 note special), l.jy pt.1

— how the season that comes to change, takes his life with it. Strangers that passed him by has now come to effect his own life, paint it in colors and forms outside his own framework. And when his new found friend at the bakery, and a strange girl during the setting sun, asks him about love. He desperately wants to name the sensation in his heart, and hope that Y/n will too.

PAIRING ➤ lee juyeon x fem!reader

GENRE ➤ FLUFF, cat shapeshifter!juyeon, mutual pining(as always), clingy juyeon, juyeon just want to be loved, soft angst?(fight for your love!), Eric feature, cute jealousy, happy ending

WARNINGS ➤ none, proofread once so probably missed something!

WORD COUNT ➤ 8.7 k

AUTHOR'S NOTE ➤ it is here! Part two of boys in cats clothing plus three extra scenes! (The bonus scenes doesn’t have a specific timeline in their relationship) As pt.1, it isn’t much of a complicated story, just fluffy feels! Boys in cat’s clothing was my first story as littleroaes, so I took to the opportunity to celebrate it! Shoutout to @blue-rainydays and @from-izzy for cheering me on lol. I really went through it a couple of times, enjoy!

TAGGING @blue-rainydays for you my blue!!

“YOU'RE NOT TOGETHER” THE DOUGH FALLS BETWEEN THE FINGER GAPS DOWN ONTO THE SILVER COUNTER.

"Together?" Juyeon asks while he watches its color reminiscent of vanilla, fall to the center and spread from its mit.

“Yeah?”

The sunlight reflected in a specific window and the pattern of tiles he steps onto everyday, has become all the more familiar. At the start of his time at the bakery, he refused to go alone. Y/n woke up about an hour earlier than what the time on her squares in row told her to. It was all, just to let Juyeon out of the four walls that, at some point, crossed the line of customary and took his mind and forced it in full circles. So when she stood with him before the pink painted walls and windows from floor to ceiling, Juyeon became determined to come home and tell her everyday about his passionate way of life.

When Juyeon for the first time in his life stepped onto the wooden floor and heard the bell chime from above. He fell another centimeter closer to Earth. Before him, centered without need of a net, a guy similar to himself(Y/n being his reference). At the time, he behind the counter reached out his arm and waved to him from across the room. Another chime goes off before Juyeon forced his arm up in a rigid manner, greeted him in a voice stale, similar to bread in the open air for two weeks.

Y/n stood beside him, with gentle force pushing his side with her elbow. Juyeon looked down at that moment, but refuted back to his habits of scratching his nape and desperately giving Y/n his eyes curved so that every bit of sunlight passed through them.

Though, now, Juyeon has lost focus of the cream-white dot on the desk. Instead he has found interest in the youngest shirt. The highest point where the lines of his arm and shoulder meet. Fabrics and hands covered in flour. Eric’s blue gloves that shine with snow like flour and crystal sugar, reach out for the silk ribbon tied to his neck, allusive to a spring girl in middle school, her name being First Love. Juyeon’s eyes follow Eric’s finger, to the point below his chin, and back to his face.

“No…we’re not.” Juyeon’s lips, luscious as the green sprouts converting to rose petals in spring. To bring to touch the mark on his life. Juyeon, without gradual rendition, let his hands, painted in sugar, fall away from the ribbon without as much of an allude to the others essence.

“Why?” He asks while Eric finds his voice and demeanor to be of the angel on the right side of his shoulder.

”Should we be?” Juyeon, whose back falls a bit curved over the counter, shrinks even lower. All words articulated by him in this moment yearns for the youngest perspective on the world and the correct answers for the obviously wavering nature of his question. Eric abruptly loses focus on the dough again, and right as it comes out of his grip, the edge between his two fingers tear off. And the bell chimes when another colleague comes through the door. Somehow, when the colleague fades behind the door and Eric lets him wander, the bridge between their eyes is fully horizontal, with no diagonals.

“No…?” Eric knits his eyebrows, “you two just looked like it.”

The single corner piece that teared off, melts together with the essence without seems, when Eric starts shaping it once more. To force the cream-white fragile fragment in sphere shape, and all at once let Earth take a bit of the curve when it falls onto the tray. And Juyeon’s vision suddenly changes direction and once again, lands on his own work space. His arms hover over the counter, hands gently shape a crater-mit to watch space fill it up, and his red apron hangs above his knees. Just as Eric's question runs through the secret corners of his mind.

The curtains work as a filter for their screen to the outerworld. And how the TV radiates mellow blue shades throughout the entire room. The screen, with colors he didn’t know existed before, spread its blueprint onto the objects closest to it.

In the beginning, Juyeon couldn’t work out the change in ambience when the curtains were down. But he knows now, the exact position of the not so bright room, and therefore the light would shine through their secluded corner, if it wasn’t for the flimsy fabric separating the two.

On the rectangular screen, it has captured a picture of their own world and built it up with every pixel. But still, the camera shifts over the highly saturated landscape without details. With loss of this reality, their world is built with grain spots and rigid edges. The couple in this saturated world on the TV sits on a dark bench. How the camera stands in a slight high-point to capture crowns of the city beneath their feet. The camera angles itself for the audience to kindly discern the top part of her dress, most of the dull fabric is covered by her brown locks. The single shot drags on without dialog, she simply stares out over the loud space before her. Juyeon takes up his legs on the sofa, he squints his eyes and feels how that world calls him. The horizon reflects the lead's eyes, but somehow, something else, other than the city pours over them.

Finally, the two on TV bring their hands together as the sunlight, through all hills, clouds and man made structures, illuminates them. How the Earth and Sun have fallen into position, makes the two, on the bench seem even more destined.

Juyeon looks over towards Y/n.

Her face has the artificial light cast up on itself. Dialog on the TV fades to whispers of weather on a windy day. The fabric of her shirt makes a stark contrast against the fabric of the couch, and her hands hold her lower legs. As the scenery on the TV passes, the entirety of his attention follows the single details of her pupils intensely dissecting the TV world.

“Y/n?” Juyeon’s voice reaches her ears like the morning sun on a rain-covered leaf. How the smell of petrichor radiate a sense of belonging, his call compel her own existence to get a fragment of his own.

“Hm?” She faces him.

The words tail end somewhere in his throat and tears at the edge of his lips. Passing conversations in his new life crowds his mind. It pulsates deeply and torments the pressing surfaces. Juyeon closes his eyes. How the world becomes non-existent and the thoughts become less vivid, outlined and with colors.

At the same time, Y/n lies her eyes on his fingers. One starts to bother the left and she shifts herself closer to the full moon outside their window. And another star falls when they intertwine hands. Juyeon watches the couch mit, where their hands touch from above it. At the same time, his heart falters and it becomes a rhythm reminiscent of the clock during midnight. Y/n looks at him with immense eyes, how everything outside the four walls carrying them seize to exist.

His eyes look at hers with a fluorescence sort of filter, complete with yearning, “Y/n, what does it mean to be ‘together’?”

When the words leave his lips, it opens her heart as a flower visualizing the world for the first time in spring. But as it does that, Y/n force the petals to compulse, seem itself from the world like it has never existed. His eyes with curiosity refuse to leave her own. And the effect arises as her eyes change direction of the room and legs fall to the floor to touch the rug beneath them.

While her vision casts itself in every direction, it lands on the TV screen, “It’s like them.” Y/n points at it. How the scene before them portrays them in a landscape so dull and devoid of color, but as one has their chin on their palm at the other mirror, the person over the table in their rectangular vision must be vivid of colors.

“Caring and comforting the other and receiving the same love back.” Y/n nods and looks back at Juyeon. To stare at a different world with a tilted head and let it be the answer to its questions. His eyes fall back to Y/n. In moments of understanding his new life, Juyeon wears this demeanor, similar to his true form.

“Like us?”

How his face sparkles in light. Another light that makes the natural shadows, highlights of the world and its fabricate stand as desolate. Juyeon’s essence is in this novel moment and her words, trapped in glass. Even when the spotlights are off and the sun has fallen under Earth, Juyeon still makes out the faint rosy pigments forming under her eyes. Just as she observes the rug beneath them and scratches her head, Juyeon’s back straightens and his arms in his lap become aligned, symmetrical to the other beside it.

Back when he took the first step into her house and he started asking questions that had Y/n inspecting things in her own home. Juyeon genuinely believed she fell in curiosity over the details of her life. That rosy stains, abrupt silence, and eyes diverting towards the corners of the room was a language of interest in daily life. But as one kept passing the other each morning sun and he gently started through the looking glass, into the people like her. Juyeon realized that the pattern in her behavior, that the out-of-world state wasn’t a deep concentration of understanding, rather, his own life’s effect on her.

The moment that euphoria came crashing right through him, his eyes fell and he moved closer to Y/n. Asked her with great eyes and slight forward posture if he keeps making her sick like this. If the rosyness on her face will spread to her inner self and contaminate every part of her body until she can’t breathe. Y/n got even redder by that at the time, and described with overlapping words and unclear hand motions. By somehow, Juyeon understood her colors are not a bad thing, not what they are, but it’s something positive, because of him.

Therefore, he smiles endearingly when she faces the flower vase on the table.

“No-I-not like us.”

His face drops in an instant, and Y/n purse her lips in and forces her eyes closed. It all sets as a desperate and pained expression in the dark complex of the night.

“We love each other a lot right?” She opens up her arms, “And there different types of love.” Y/n sighs before she continues, “All of them are good, and we describe them differently.“ ”‘Together’ is just not ours.”

The atmosphere from before has shifted. The moment Y/n put an end to her sentence, a wind came opening the two windows and a cold, winter season lies over the room. Y/n’s left hand starts scratching the edge of her right nails. The distance between them seems even further, though it’s just 50 centimeters. For a moment, Y/n looks up towards him, his face speaks of someone looking out into the fading distance when the Earth’s collapsing. She bites her lip and looks away. Them on the TV, talk about love and a single sentence runs between the silence in their apartment.

Could I be yours forever?

Y/n coughs before she stands up. The controller lies on the coffee table and reaches out for it.

“We should sleep right, you need to work well tomorrow too.”

Juyeon looks up from his spot on the couch beneath her. Her smile like it always is, making flowers grow in cold seasons or convert light when all the sources of the world withers. When she looks at him like that, all in this moment, an unfamiliar feeling runs through him. Sensations he can’t connect back to either his new or old life. Y/n comes closer and pet his head.

“Let’s go to sleep.”

Juyeon’s hand pushes his own weight off the couch, without words, he takes a step away from the warm spot. As won’t take his hand in hers, Y/n take one step closer and gently lace them. To walk towards the bed and wrap themself in fabrics.

“Good night, Juyeon.” Y/n whispers. The yearning for an answer coats her heart as one second fabricates onto another. And when she opens her mouth to whisper it again, Juyeon returns the sentence in a voice devoid of that serene tulip feeling she gets every time he speaks.

How the room falls in complete silence. Despite the sheet forcing warmth to cling to the abundant parts of her body, a coldness from the window pierce right through it. Y/n looks over towards Juyeon, to face nothing but his hair. As the moon motions over the sky, the right side of the matter becomes lighter. The fabric falls towards the mattress surface and he on the other side is now so small to fit on the pillow instead.

And when the rain starts falling on their windows, Y/n can only feel that it’s her heart making motions over Earth. But despite storms and endless puddles forming on the street corners. Y/n put a bandaid on her inside, meanwhile forcing tape onto her own mouth and tie ropes on her wrist. There is a thought. That has been folded into the deepest part of her consciousness. That Juyeon’s affection, despite the adrenaline it gives her, is compatible with an innocent child confessing to their teacher. It is a part of growing up.

And the sunset stands at the lower end of the sky and spreads its vivid colors over the horizon. Y/n turn away from the painting-like view and stare at Juyeon’s expression when the orange shade leaks from the horizon line and bleeds throughout the ocean. The scenery to their right as they walk past unknown conversations, and couples with knitted hands. In the other end of two directions, are painted signs, booths and hangers of clothes in shades reminiscent of the scene beside them.

“Should we get something to eat?” Y/n looks up at Juyeon who returns the same expression with, in contrast, a lowered head. To stand at the railing over the ocean edge as he nods. She smiles and releases his hand to walk towards the booth with a blue fabric sign and smoke escaping from the open points. Though, one step from his being, and his hands come back to her own. She looks behind her again and sees his immense eyes looking back at her as if watching disarray. Together with how his hand consoles her own like he misses it.

“I need to buy it.” Y/n smiles.

“Can’t I go with you.” He takes a step closer while still holding her hand.

Y/n look at his eyes and slight pout. How the wind braids itself with his hair and takes it, but miserably fails, so it settles before his eyes. Y/n thinks of the near past, and remembers all decisions. How at this time in this space, herself one month ago would have sighed and gripped his hand a bit tighter. To secure him that there is never an empty space beside him. But as another moth went by and the moon changed its patterns, she came to think of his fragile heart and first discovery of the world around him. To let his person grow beautifully, he too should stand before Earth with his own feet. Look at its sides and discover its beauty, not her.

Y/n shakes her head, “Stay here, I’ll be back soon.” She pats his head and runs away. This time, Juyeon lets her hand escape his own.

For a second, Juyeon looked in the opposite directions of his surroundings. Life as complex as his own passes him as if it all is nothing. The faces of the people become stranger and they all merge into one. The very real presence of others makes him shake his head and concentrate on the back of Y/n’s figure and how she stands in the queue. A bit less than a minute and the sun has fallen another centimeter towards the water, in contrast to Juyeon who has stayed in the same space she left him in.

“Hey?” He feels a touch to the shoulder of his shirt. A girl stands beside him at the railing, staring at him with rather dull eyes. Juyeon turns behind him, but none of the people on the forever long railing turn to face her.

“Hey?” She says again and Juyeon points at himself.

“Yeah, you.” She nods and his eyes widens.

“My friend thinks you’re cute.”

The girl five centimeters beneath him wears an expression contrasting to the sun's drowned path. Juyeon watches her, who shows no emotions, therefore he slowly brings his hands closer to his chest. To break eye contact with her, his eyes yearn for the person under the smoke and thin roof. But to his heart that flows continuously and hands that grasp whatever’s familiar, she stands with her back towards him.

“So?” Her voice overpowers the incoming wind and the waves crashing against the edge. How her body stands frozen as they’ve stared at each other, but suddenly she releases her crossed arms and motions her shoulders. His hands tightly knitted together come even closer to his chest under the sweater. When she sighs quietly, Juyeon feels a rush to bring him one meter below where his eyes fall now. To become out of reach towards human emotions and run under the nearest flower pot.

“Yes or no?” She asks again. Juyeon’s eyes grow larger and the ends fall into a sort of curved motion. At this point, a white question mark has drawn itself over his head.

“Are you going out? Taking her number?” She looks over her shoulder and tilts her head towards the friend again, “You think she’s cute too?”

His eyes insist on keeping themselves open. To switch between hers and the girl’s presence underneath one tree. The two scenes start fading into one, colors leak into the other’s surface and the forms of the world become curved. Juyeon finally closes his eyes and feels the water accumulate on its end.

“Forget it.” The girl sighs. Her white shoes hit the wood beneath them. How her hair follows the motions of her heels turning the other direction from his.

A tension suspended to his shoulders, falters as Juyeon watches how her silhouette will falter from his vision. A bicycle passes him to grab his attention, and as it leaves the framed world, his eyes fall back on Y/n who talks with the person in white cloth behind the cart. At that moment, Juyeon’s hands let go of the other one and he takes for the first time one step closer to the other person leaving his sight.

“Can you help me with something?” The girl turns back to Juyeon standing with one hand over his nape.

She stays quiet for a few seconds.

“Sure,” she sighs, “what do you want?”

To search the world for phrases and listen to the conversations behind him, “Is that a good way to ask someone to be your girlfriend?”

Her eyes dissect his life and his inner self. It uncomfortably tickles his shoulders and withers his height.

“I mean…” He scratches his nape again, “what your friend did.” he clarifies.

The silence that comes after his questions is rather painful. Despite constant talking and surrounding them, it can’t save the dying air between them. The sunset is right between tier two silhouettes, but is all but magical.

“Yeah…” she looks at him weirdly, “I guess.”

“Okay.” He smiles brightly, “Thank you.”

“No problem.” The girl walks away with furrowed eyebrows.

Juyeon, paints and sculpts the world in his mind when the friend under the tree eagerly walks towards the other one. He doesn’t see how she waves her hand before her friend’s face and turns her back onto the sea.

When the sun has moved another centimeter down the horizon, Juyeon stands watching it falling towards its death. He hears footsteps become all the clearer from behind, and while smiling, he turns his back on the scene in order to become a background, and fully faces Y/n. In both her hands she holds a rectangular cardboard piece. The plate with its fascinating textures and worldly colors.

“Sorry it took some time.” She hands him one of the plates and Juyeon receives it with both hands.

“Did it go well?”

She watches how his head lifts when he stops staring at the food in his palms. A wind comes right the moment he looks up and catches some of his hair strands. A part of her heart drowns in the sunset when he smiles after her question. Juyeon nods so that his fringe follows his motions and Y/n reach her hand out for it. She forces one strand to the left and Juyeon watches her face as she does. Thereafter, Y/n follows the patterns of his hair and comes to the highest point. Her hand gently brings the strands down to his scalp, and Juyeon closes his eyes and brings his head down to her height.

“Eric?”

The youngest at the table looks up from his phone to see Juyeon with his arms folded over the table. Those eyes, immersive and bright from the sunlight behind the store window. Juyeon is slightly leaned over the white table and Eric, naturally, forces his eyes wider to mirror Juyeon before him.

“I need your help,” He says with seriousness. How Juyeon’s posture lean on the rest of his chair, and his eyes on a single point as if everything else has faded from him. Eric lets go of his phone fully, resting with the screen down against the white painted surface.

“What is it?” To fully reciprocate his question, he too leans forward. Eric’s full attention lands on his friend, even when the bell from the front door chimes, he won’t look away.

“You need to make me Y/n’s boyfriend.”

Juyeon watches how Eric’s posture sinks in the single second those words leave his mouth. That expression, Juyeon thinks. It's all evocative to the girl from the sunset ocean.

“Okay…?” He leans back into the chair, knitted eyebrows and a confused look towards him on the other side of the table. “Why?” Though, the question leaves his lips and his eyes observes Juyeon’s, a view of himself in bird’s eye perspective takes him off the back rest. Instead Eric leans forward again.

“Or I guess that’s obvious,” Eric says as Juyeon looks at him with hands in his laps, “Why can’t you do it on your own?”

Juyeon’s eyes across the table, looking at Eric himself, turned his back on God. At some point, Eric tilts his head and lifts one eyebrow. To live in the same apartment should be enough to find confidence in one's own relationship, he thinks. But as Eric finds no sympathy in Juyeon’s condition, the one with a confused way of looking at the world, earnestly shakes his head. Those eyes alone and the stare that reaches across the table, is enough to make Eric lean back again.

“It’s not the right way.” Juyeon still shakes his head. The palm of his hands land on the plastic surface of the white table.

Eric, once again, knits his brows and brings his arm to cross one under.

“There’s a ‘right’ way to do it?!”

Juyeon nods.

Eric sighs, his head directs itself towards the ceiling. One square of the white patterns sits two centimeters off its white border. His vision falls back to where it was before, and Juyeon once again becomes the center of it. Eric lets his hands drop from the cross over his chest and he asks;

“Okay, tell me then, what should I do?”

His hands in his lap. How his fingers have started to fiddle with the other and Juyeon is enchanted by the motions and fabrics that follow it, “You tell her that your friend thinks she’s cute.”

Eric stares with wide eyes, lost its vigor during the ten steps the minute visor has moved on the wall behind him. Another coworker passes them by, asking them to walk over to the counter to take the next person who chimes the bell. Eric watches how, the second those words leave the person's mouth, Juyeon stands up from his seat to face him, the one that gave them order fully. How the fabric of their aprons lifts when he who has them orders turn back to the colorless door three meters away. Juyeon looks back at Eric who still hasn’t stood up. Juyeon’s arm reaches to his mid tight, and they hang awkwardly there like decorations when he asks;

“Can you do it?”

Eric wonders whether the older guy before him has a dating life more depressing than the rusted bench outside the window, as he sits there. Or hold some sort of romantic power, too strong and creative for his simple mind.

“Sure, I’ll do it.”

Two friends sit in the inner corner of the room, right by the pink letters on the window. How the r&b playlist paints time in this space and to Eric, who stands at the register without current purpose, each word becomes distinct despite its faint presence. Eric watches the clock on the right side of the room. How the second visor completes another round of teh silver frame, and the minute visor lands on a perfect number. Behind him is another one of their workers in white apron, but Juyeon is nowhere to be seen. And before Eric leaves the register, the clear chime of the golden bell goes off and casts itself over the bakery.

He turns away from the backroom and sees Y/n wave at him from the white frame. A bag decorates her left shoulder and her hair in turn falls over the fabric straps. It is a slightly colder season than before, so with time, her clothes have gotten all thicker to protect the skin from the cold. Y/n comes up to the counter and greets him, similar to the birds singing when the first flowers in spring grow. The hands on the counter fall to his sides and he greets her too.

Another second passes and the expression of spring converts into something differently. To look for the sprouts of life in mid-winter, there is nothing for her to find. Eric sees how her chin lifts to see the space behind him.

“Where’s Juyeon?” Her eyes speak of liquid moonlight.

“He’s getting something, outside.” Eric looks around, “He’s here soon.”

She nods. With only the barely one meter register between them, there is a silence created when two desperately try to solve a sentence in desperation to fill time.

“I need to ask you something.” Eric stammer. The counter surface covers the patterns drawn by his white shoes. Y/n opens her eyes a bit wider and grabs the single strap on her shoulder. Juyeon’s question runs circles in his mind. To keep reaching back towards the kitchen.

“My friend thinks you’re cute.” Eric finally says.

Her eyes widen while her arms become rigid.

“I-that’s flattering” Y/n stammer, “but…”

Her voice fades to silence as Eric tilts his head. Y/n continuously blinks as the side of his head desperately leans towards the left. To look at the erratic behavior, until she catches how a silhouette comes out from behind the metal. His hand on the silver side and the strands over lustrous eyes, it all that has carved itself a space in her heart. Y/n see it all, only for a second, but it is enough to understand Eric’s exact language and square demeanor.

“Oh.” Y/n smiles and looks at Eric. He, in contrast, furrows his eyebrows and leans towards her. Seek for another soul in the room to connect over his, what Eric thinks is, love-drowned behavior.

“Tell him to meet me outside then.” Y/n straightens her posture and walks outside. The bell goes off again and Eric is left staring at the empty spot without traces.

The second the chime from the edge reaches the far corner of the kitchen. Juyeon comes out from the metal covering his presence. That the skin of his hands cover a significant part of the outer edge of the metal machine. Eric’s back faces Juyeon and he fully frees himself from the cover and walks up to him.

“What did she say?” Juyeon asks, his eyes drowned in moonlight glitter.

Eric, at the register, finally stops staring at the point Y/n departed from.

“To meet you outside.” Eric says without any sort of surgarcoat lining between his words. As his face watches over Juyeon’s, the bright light from outside becomes uncovered by the clouds just as his lips beam.

How the two last digits on their phones count upwards as they bring the chairs over tables and take the mop to clean off the irregular pattern over the wooden floor. The bell chimes endlessly as the workers leave the room with windows from floor to ceiling. Juyeon and Eric are the last two out of the bakery, and Eric brings the keys to the door and a low sound comes from within the door when he turns his wrist.

Juyeon turns away from the frame and out over the city. As the buildings ascend above the square bakery and between the towers that pierce through the atmosphere, the setting sun beams its last warmth for the day. The two of them take their step down the stairs. Only four steps or two until they reach the sidewalk concrete and wave the other goodbye. And when Juyeon sees Eric’s back face him and his shadow paints itself over the street and reaches the cars on the other side, he turns behind him.

How the tiles of the sidewalk and sunlight lead him straight to the bench where she stands. The shadow beneath her feet follows the motion of her right hand as she waves to him. For a single moment, Juyeon stands on the tiles as if they’ve forced him down onto them. But in reality, that the earth round the sun in a forever circle seems unbearable. Because, when Y/n takes a step closer towards his existence, the entire solar system could circle around her.

“Did work go well?” Her voice is soft and familiar of daily life as she stands before him. When she looks at him attentively, he nods so that the loose fabrics around his body follow it. Soon after, Y/n take the end fabric of his sleeve and gently pull his body towards her own. Sounds of shoe surface scratching against the rough tiles reach his ears, and then, they’re letting the street guide them further down the city.

People become faceless as they enter the immense circle in the middle of the city. Juyeon grabs onto Y/n’s arm and she looks up to see his eyes follow the paths of strangers. How they cross red light and half way through, then color turns on its spectrum and the green light illuminates the concrete. The constant pitched sound pattern grabs onto his mind and torments a part of each senses. Y/n watches how his eyes closes. Without another second between the two cars and two groups of people before them, Y/n brings the left side of his body closer to her right. By nearly running, the two of them get to the end edge of the street.

Juyeon finally opens his eyes when a wind blows past his lids. The maze of skyscrapers, signs and music have opened up before them. And now they stand on the path dividing the capital into two. Once again, they stand by the side of the city river and soon walk where the railing paints the edge of the water. Like the couples, parents with children in neon blue padded jackets and high school friends on bicycles, they follow the railing up towards each bridge that decorates horizontally over the vertical river.

Conversations of people without faces crosses their life and fades before they get to comprehend it. They walk past one bridge, and how the pillars underneath it shows its true massiveness. Though, as they walk there, side by side in the illuminated city center, Juyeon continuously takes glances at her beside him.

To go through the scene in intricate detail. Count the seconds and paint the motions, Juyeon can’t find the strings attaching Eric’s help at the bakery to their moment by the river. Despite receiving his question and answering it, in what he guesses, is a positive manner, she once again is by his side without a mention of his action. Though, he thinks back on the scene during the sunset, when the girl said her friend thought he was cute. She never got beyond that. What is supposed to happen after that? he thinks. Has the universe now, with that acknowledgement at the bakery woven together their existences? Will a sensation from another world visit his dreams?

The thoughts rushes from his mind out towards his fingers and radiate to the deepest corners of his body. Juyeon once again looks at Y/n when they come to the next bridge where three benches stand in a pattern of two meters in between.

“Are we together now?” He asks suddenly.

His voice binds her heart to his own, therefore, her body, with just a small measure shifts closer to his own. Y/n looks up towards him with eyes mirroring the open river and chin a bit higher as if to compare each feature under his fringe. When they walk like this, Y/n waits for his lips to imitate the crescent moon that stands before them. But instead, a midnight streak in his eyes pulsates before her and his lips slightly apart.

“What?” She asks.

Juyeon stops one step before her in the midst of the river path and asks again “Are we together?”

Another wind comes between them when they stand one meter away from the other. How the couples and workers walk past them without lending a lens towards the two of them in the midst of the open path. Y/n’s vision covers when the wind takes one of hair strands, and without looking away from him before her, she forces it back between her ears.

“You need to tell me.” The words fall desperately as his fingers begin fiddling with the other. His eyebrows fall into a sort of outward motion. Another flash before the pupil pulls on her heart and forces her to breathe out.

“I-we’re not…” She stammers.

Juyeon’s shoulders falter even deeper. Tragic weather has taken on the single square where they stand. The continuous motions of her chest is the only part of her that can be seen from outside, as she watches how his eyes fall to her shoes.

“It hurts me, Y/n.” He breathes, “can’t you feel it too?”

Despite standing in the midst of the overcrowded city, a silence only at the edge of the world has fallen over it. Y/n opens her lips as if she’s about to answer him, but the silence draped over the buildings that circle them like walls, spreads like poison through her veins. To voice so much of a vowel, she’s afraid venom will falter.

“But it’s not like that, Juyeon.” She takes a step closer, “You don’t love me.”

The calmness of the sunset evening is gently wrapped between her fingers. And when her hand reaches out to his shoulder, it tears off in one motion and falls to the floor and withers. Juyeon backs away. The evershining in his eyes that she has come to adore, has melted off his pupils, becoming liquid starlight at the end of his eyes.

“What should I do for you to believe me?” He finally breathes, “that I love you.” The transparent wall suffocating them two, shatters in a single flicker as Juyeon walks out of it. Left before her is an empty space and a cold wind. She looks to the left to see his silhouette become smaller and fall in line with the bench. Her hand between sky and floor, desperately calls for someone to take it.

Y/n can feel something gripping at the parts of her lungs as Juyeon walks towards the bench. His silhouette is ever so small against the immense river. When her feet stand in the same position still, and another person brush shoulders against her own to get through. It too, takes onto her skin and forces a deep, cold, metal lining into her heart. Somehow, it turns to the left and Y/n can feel her own knees desperately standing still.

When her heart aches, Y/n looks back over the beautiful scene. How in every preservation, she would want to see him in the center. She sees him like this, and the sunset falls over him as if it is their only purpose. In the midst of her existence, he has become smaller. And when standing still at the edge of the world, Y/n realize this sudden fear. That he’ll walk along the path without her, and at the end another day, he will have faded like summer when it grace to autumn.

Y/n finally leaves the spot behind her without traces. She holds her eyes on his hair as if to make sure that every moment he’ll continue to exist.

Juyeon looks towards her when she takes the spot beside him.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to be together.” he looks down, “Just say no.” He says while looking out over the lights in colors to form a path at midnight for those who wander, “Because, I just…want you to know that I love you.”

When they sit by the river, his profile shows no sign of awareness of her own existence. Memories from before come back to her from every side and force itself into her heart. The scene up on the hill before the same river they’re beside now, plays behind her lens like a film from before. And when he breathes for a second time and the breeze from the water perfectly lies one strand behind the other. Y/n realizes how much he has grown. His emotions were gently wrapped in three sentences, ending in a yellow silk bow. A sort of sincerity in the golden lining threads her broken parts.

She finally smiles, when she looks at his hand that has reached out for hers. His smile that for the first time falters when he’s with her. At last, another conversation behind them fades and the world has fallen silent.

Y/n takes his hand in hers and leans towards him with lowered head. He looks up at her through the hair strands and waits for her words to torment the deepest parts within him.

“I love you too, Juyeon.”

For a second, the line between the two falls in complete silence. It is this pitched sound that vibrates in the ceiling of one's ear, and it lingers there as each second passes. Though, finally Juyeon lifts his chin even a bit higher. His eyes clear as the sky curved over their heads and how the edges of his lips have formed a rose pink cradle.

“You do?”

Y/n nods.

At this moment, Juyeon fully lifts his legs from the grass growing out between the tiles and crosses them over the bench. His front faces hers without a hidden feature and at last, he takes her other hand in his. And as they sit there under the falling sky, Y/n looks down onto her legs drawing circles on the gray concrete. How Juyeon sees his own life paints hers and he feels that sensation in the hidden corner of himself.

The same feeling he recalls from their daily life. A sensation intimate with his new life takes his breath from the lowest parts within him before letting out. And his chest seems to bring him life for an eternity.

“Can you feel it too?” Juyeon asks curiously and Y/n looks back up.

Her eyes fall wider when he, without signs, brings his hand onto her heart protected in layers. Where the sensation mirrors his own. And an empty field without wind, Y/n watch him without motions. She looks at his eyes that concentrate on the pulsating on his palm.

And he gasps with immense eyes, “You feel it too?”

Y/n nods now with a smile reminiscent of his own. How the melted starlight died. But in the corner of his eyes, she sees the small shine of a newborn star. So delicate but enough to reach her own.

And they sit there, legs over the ground and hands intertwined like the bridges beside them. Another pair of people walk past them, and Juyeon looks at her without words. Y/n tilts her head while knitting her eyebrows with her smile.

“What’s happening now?” He asks as he thinks of the movies playing hours on end by the TV screen. Her own mind fills in the blank spaces where two ears would perk up in union.

She smiles even wider and Juyeon can’t seem to understand why she does so. As he tilts his head even lower and eyes grow wider, she finally leans forward.

“This.”

Her knees force the rest of her body up a bit higher. And her hands hold him even tighter when her lips fall on his own. Or, she overestimates the height in between them, and instead kisses the upper part of his lip, right underneath his nose. Y/n comes back down with redness from his own lips. At first, he stares at her without words. Expression the same as before, all until his face lights up like the street lamps in every corner of their city.

“It’s so fun kissing you.” He gasps.

Y/n herself nearly falls onto the rest behind her, when Juyeon leans forward to press his lips against her own. She laughs and pushes him, the part of his chest right beneath the yellow ribbon. His eyes, like the city, shines up the passing darkness of the season, all while he pouts.

“Just once.” She holds up one finger, “Once.”

Cat gets jealous :(

Y/n sees how his eyes move on from her own down to the spot beside her feet. She too looks down, Juyeon is brushing his head over her ankles and walks in circles around her.

“This is Juyeon.” Y/n says.

Her neighbor kneels down and reaches out his hand. The hand becomes all the more larger the closer he gets to Juyeon. The smell of his skin and light in his eyes. Juyeon’s fur stands up, he takes a step forward as the sharp teeth behind the soft fur shows. Juyeon’s eyes are formed like sirens and stare deeply into the man before them.

“Juyeon.” Y/n quickly bends down and takes him in her arms. The stern tone fades into an awkward laugh before she looks down into her arms.

“Sorry.” The man before her has gone back to the door and holds own hand, “He’s not usually like that.” Y/n smiles and looks down in her arms cupped to hold his light fur. His paws curl up under his chin and his eyes close when Juyeon can tilt his head onto her shoulder.

“It’s okay.” He laughs, “Where is the leaking?”

His hoodie falls over his shoulders like a blanket. In securing warmth from the material, he stands against Y/n’s back, watching how she cuts strawberries. The oven glistens in warm tones and it spreads over the four walls. He calls the sweet aroma from sugar and berries.

“What is it, Juyeon?” Y/n turn her head back towards him for a second, then focus back towards the fruit. A familiar spark rushes through him when she talks to him with that high voice. He comes even closer and rests his head on her shoulder.

“Is it something special?” He asks her. Y/n, despite looking at the plastic board and can only hear his whisper-like voice, sees his ears fold up.

She smiles, “The plumber is coming over again.”

The space on her shoulder becomes cold and she barely feels the edges of his shirt brush against her own. As a divider has moved between the two, Y/n looks behind her again and puts down the knife. In oversized fashion, hair strands scattered over his eyes and a small pout, Juyeon watches her attentively. Despite his disheartened demeanor and distance(distance being in juyeon’s world), Y/n laughs.

“I need to thank him, Juyeon.”

His shoulders are still hanging low and the pout on his lips won’t go away. Y/n tilts her head and leans onto the counter.

Juyeon has circled her legs before, held her hand a bit tighter in public or strengthened his posture when someone else exchanged words with her. But when he stands before her right now, there are no walls or filters. With a yearning so transparent and a heart craving for her own, she can’t help but adore him even more. Y/n half a strawberry from behind her and walks up to his figure. Because of her motions, Juyeon’s eyes have formed from dissatisfied ones to asking questions. His own head tilts to the side and Y/n looks up at him before bringing the strawberry up to his lips.

“Don’t sulk, Juyeon.”

He bites down onto the strawberry and nods so that his fringe moves with it. Before bringing her attention back to the counter, Y/n reach her hand out towards the spot where his hair blossoms to all sides.

Cat wants a pet name >:(

How the white curtains lie like a filter over the city during sunday morning. There are no calling responsibilities until another hour has passed them by. Y/n because of that lies with closed eyes, still under the covers. A sort of relief and satisfaction washed over her thirty minutes earlier as she thought she was late for university. But before Y/n could even throw off the sheet, Y/n felt her arm being pulled towards the bed-mit. She fell onto the pillow again and her hair scattered over the fabrics. When she took a glance to her left, she saw Juyeon with closed eyes and his soft skin up against her own.

“It’s Sunday.” He whispered and shifted his head closer to hers, between her neck where Y/n felt him breathing deeply.

Because of his low voice and silk skin, she could close her eyes without thoughts of dilemma grabbing her neck. Though, now the morning sun has struck her once again, and she shifts her head one step closer to the pillow, as to make sure she’s alive. Aside from the sun, there is someone else to bring warmth in the room she is in. Y/n has her face immensely close to Juyeon’s. So much that his breathing appears to move her own strands of hair.

The clock continuously passes them by when time has stopped in the bed. Juyeon’s hair tickles her bare skin and she takes her hand to comb through his silk strands. His head falls backwards with eyes closed. In this angle, the sunlight strikes him perfectly, she thinks.

“Y/n?” He whispers and she hums.

To take notice how his skin shifts in pink and how his eyes open just to close as quickly.

“What is it?” Y/n asks.

He hesitates, “Why did you stop calling me kitten?”

“Why?” He looks through the strands of his fringe.

Y/n shifts away from his person, her face towards the white wall and the fabrics in a familiar shade folds over her. “It’s weird"...", she laughs.

Juyeon won’t say anything more, or make a sound. And she conceives the way his scent intertwines with her own, that he has gone back to dreaming. But as the white paint of her wall fades from sight and her lids closes, the sheets fall a decimeter lower. The mattress shifts in weight and a sort of coldness comes from the empty spot and makes her pull the covers closer to her essence. Soon, Y/n opens her eyes as the left side of her pillow shifts closer to the morning sun and another presence in the same room affects the poi8nt below her collarbone. As it strains her body, Y/n makes a pained expression before opening her eyes and looks up.

“Juyomi?”

He stays on her chest and takes one step after the other. To walk in circles on her upper body and sway his tail in her face. Y/n sneezes and takes her arms from under the covers and tangles within his fur.

“Juyo?” Y/n sighs. Though, her grip around his thin body loosens as he stops turning and takes a seat on her chest. As he sits there, she references all the moments they’ve spent in the same room staring into each otheräs eyes. Juyeon’s head won’t tilt to the left, but behind his small figure waves the tail from left to right in a slow rhythm.

“Juyo?” Y/n says again, this time, in a tone much more playful.

He walks even closer to her face and disappears beneath her vision. Instead, Y/n senses how his soft fur touches her neck. How Juyeon reaches his head between her chin and chest and lets the warmth of her self affect his own life. And when his face comes up to her ear, she hears faint breaths covered in white silk.

“Okay, Juyo,” she says, “I'm tired.”

Y/n wraps her arms around his fragile body and forces him down when she falls to the side. To look slightly down when her hair scatters over the pillow. She sees his eyes up towards hers, how the color spreads large over the white and sparks in the piercing sunlight. A second passes them by and Juyeon lets out a fragile sound before taking his head in her chest.

Y/n smiles how he falls blushy and gif eye contact with her in this state. Therefore, she hugs him a bit tighter before closing her eyes and falling asleep again on Sunday morning.

mischievous cat :)

Y/n sits on one of the chairs at the white table. Her chin hangs over the computer as she stares at the black cursor. Though she has fallen into the digital world and nothing seems to be able to force her out of it. All at once, her shoulder falls backwards and she lets out a pained sound as a weight with cold claws lands on her shoulders. Her hands let go of the keyboard and grab the silk fur of the one higher up.

“Juyeon, go off.” Y/n says, in which she only gets a meow for an answer.

“Juyeon, seriously, we’ve talked about this.”

Her words don't seem to reach him, or he doesn’t want to listen. His paws start to play with her hair and the collar of her shirt.

“I’ll give you attention later, I need to work.”

a/n: def not my best work. I promise to come back with something better! This took way to long than it should have🫠 thanks for reading💗

#deoboyznet #the boyz imagines #tbz imagines #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #juyeon imagines #juyeon scenarios #Lee Juyeon #juyeon the boyz #the boyz #juyeon tbz #tbz #Lee Juyeon the boyz #Lee Juyeon tbz #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #the boyz fanfic #tbz fanfic #juyeon fanfic

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rougepancake · 7 months

Text

Sent from above

FT. Angel Devil; Fem Reader

WELCOME TO THE MONSTER MASQUERADE

WARNINGS: Sexually explicit content under cut. Minors and ageless blogs dni. HEAVY sacrilegious themes, loss of virginity (reader), Angel treating himself as an actual angel, extreme dubcon, corruption, slightly ooc Angel??. Whatever- if you’re not turned on by this shit then leave <3

SUMMARY: Your guardian angel has come to guide you during one of your darkest moments. What would you ever do without him?

Your guardian angel was a being of absolute beauty that had been with you your entire life. And, up until now, you had yet to actually see him in person. You were actually starting to think that it was a good thing that you hadn’t lay your eyes upon him before. He was simply too beautiful.

Your guardian angel was simply divine.

“D-Did God send you here to help me..?” The words left your lips slowly as you looked up at him, admiring his shining halo. You were met with silence, but it didn’t scare you. For you trusted this angel with your very life, regardless of the fact that it was your first encounter with him.

He reached out towards you, his gloved hand grabbing your chin and squeezing it gently. You could have sworn that you saw his eyes shine, but it could’ve been the light playing tricks on you.

“Of course.” It was all he said, and you couldn’t help but notice how uninterested he sounded. Actually, the more you thought about it, the more you realized that his physical appearance didn’t match the descriptions of angels in the Bible.

But maybe that was so you wouldn’t be frightened.

Totally.

“How do you plan to help me?”

“Well, what’s your problem?”

“Did God not tell you?” You saw him tense up as he took a step back from you. He leaned against your desk and looked out your bedroom window, admiring your view of the stars.

“Of course God told me. That’s why I’m here.” His sentences were short, as if he wanted to get to the point. You wanted to get closer to him, but your instinct told you to hang back. There was something about him that made you wary, despite his angelic nature.

“Right…”

The sound of the city echoed throughout the night and into your room, sending chills across your skin. The more silence that filled the air, the more anxious you got, and he knew that. Maybe he was telepathic, or just really good at reading the room.

After what felt like hours, he walked back over to you, looking you directly in the eyes. He reached out a hand and placed it on your shoulder, only to apply pressure and push you back onto your bed.

The action took you by surprise, though, all you could do was stare up at him in silence as you propped yourself up onto your elbows. Why did he do that? Was he actually going to help you?

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. Had he really stunned you into silence? Maybe that’s what happens to someone who is in the presence of true beauty…

You noticed that he was looking around your room. A part of you hoped that he took note of the various Bible verses scattered around. After all, such a thing could impress him, and he just might tell God how much you admire Him.

“Wait, what are you-“

“I’m going to help you.” He said simply as he finished tying his hair up— when had he done that? His gloved hand ran down your stomach and to the hem of your shirt, causing you to shiver as it slid underneath the fabric. You couldn’t help but swallow anxiously as he moved. Especially since you had no idea why an angel was touching you so intimately.

He took his time, his delicate touch causing you to squirm and whimper— two things you had never done before.

Then, all of a sudden, a moan was torn from you. Something so lewd, yet so beautiful, and all because he pinched your nipple.

Honestly, you had never felt this way before. Was this because he was an angel? No… you knew better than that. Maybe he was testing your loyalty to the lord? That certainly sounded right.

Without warning, brought his other hand up and cupped it over your clothed cunt. He wasted no time in removing your shorts, pulling them down to your knees and pushing your panties to the side swiftly.

“Make sure that God can hear how well your guardian Angel is helping you.” And without any form of preparation, he shoved two gloved fingers into your cunt, watching closely as you writhed and moaned. The penetration was simply too much for your mind to handle, and it was throwing you for a loop.

Who knew that something so wrong could feel so damn good?

Before you knew it, you were calling out to God shamelessly. You were saying His name in vain, but you couldn’t help it. Not when there was such a powerful tension being built in your lower stomach.

Oh you had never felt so good before. You felt like you were floating, but being bound to the earth at the same time. It was a wonderful, yet painful experience that you hadn’t expected to partake in until you were married off.

“There you go…” He whispered nonchalantly, working you through your sudden orgasm with shining eyes. All you could do was pant and whine, and it was a good look for you. According to Angel, anyways.

Though, you couldn’t help but want more.

Thankfully, he wasn’t done with you just yet.

#chainsaw man #csm x fem reader #csm x reader #csm smut #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man smut #angel devil #angel devil x reader #angel devil smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #cw monsterfucking #angel x human

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twistedwonderworm · 2 years

Text

My human (TWST NSFW)

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x M!reader

Warnings: Breeding Kink

Word count: 1,292

🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉

Y/N was heading back to Ramshackle when he saw Malleus standing outside. He walked up to the dragon fae, confused but happy that his boyfriend had decided to come over.

"Hey, Mal," he greeted his partner with a hug and a smile, "What are you doing all the way out here? I thought you should be in your own dorm by now."

Malleus gazed down on the human and smiled, "I just missed you, darling. So I decided to come spend more time with you. Is that a problem?"

"No, no." Y/N said with a smile as he led his boyfriend to the dorm. "Of course it's no problem. I love spending time with you."

He opened the door and Malleus entered, looking around, "I see you've been fixing it up. It seems to be going well."

"As well as it can go with only me working on it," Y/N said as he put on water for their tea. But his hand was caught in a much larger hand before he could start heating up the water.

"If you need help, you could have asked me, darling," Malleus said softly, practically a whisper beside the human's ear. "I would absolutely love to help my beloved. Maybe even bring a few of my dorm members to come help too. Though, there is one thing right now that you can help me with right now~"

Malleus started kissing down Y/N's neck, his hands slipping under his partner's shirt. The feeling of Malleus's gloves against his skin made the human shiver. He leaned into Malleus's touch, a deep laugh coming from the fae.

"Did you come for something specific, Mal?" Y/N shivering as Malleus teased his nipples.

"Mmm, nothing really." Malleus's tongue teased the shell of Y/N's ear. Though deciding to tease his beloved boyfriend more, Malleus soon pulled away.

Y/N whined and turned to face the older male, "Why'd you stop?"

The fae smiled at him before beckoning Y/N to come closer before walking into the living room, "Because the kitchen is hardly the place to be doing what we're both thinking of doing, love." His smile widened into a grin before taking his lover's hand and leading him upstairs.

Y/N huffed and kicked his bedroom door open when they got there before pulling his lover in behind him. Inside, he locked his and Malleus's lips into a passionate kiss.

"Is the bedroom a suitable place to do the deed, my prince?" He said, just above a whisper, pushing his body against Mal's.

"More than suitable, my dear," was the Fae's response.

This wasn't the first time that they had done this so they were both very familiar with each other's bodies. It didn't take them long to remove each other's clothes and move their activities to the bed. Y/N lay on his back, one hand absentmindedly stroking Malleus's horns as the fae prepared him for what was to come. Malleus was very good with both his tongue and his fingers so it wasn't much longer until he felt Y/N was prepared enough. He was leaning over to snag a condom out of the nightstand drawer, but a hand gripped his wrist loosely.

He turned to his human lover, "Do you not want to use one tonight?" He asked, making sure.

Y/N shook his head, "I'm not too worried about the mess tonight. I just want to feel you and only you." He leaned up onto his elbows and pulled Malleus into a short, sweet kiss. "Well, as long as it's okay with you, darling. If it makes you uncomfortable, then I won't mind you using a condom."

Malleus smiled at his beloved, happy that he was being so considerate, "I think we'll be alright without one for tonight. That way I can fill my beloved human up and breed you just right~" He wasn't thinking about whether or not that was even possible but the mere thought had him shivering, and caused his cock to twitch.

Y/N grinned deviously, seeing Malleus's reaction to his own words, "Is that what you want, darling~?" He asked, pouring some lube into his hand and stroking Malleus's cock, teasing his beloved. "You want to breed me~?"

Malleus had no idea why but it sounded so hot coming from Y/N that he bucked into his hand, whining when the human let go of his cock, "Can I? Can I please breed you, love?"

Y/N grinned and nodded, spreading and holding his legs for Malleus, letting out a soft gasp as he felt the tip of Malleus's cock press against him, "Come on, baby~"

With the little bit of urging, Malleus slowly started to push into his lover. He did it slowly since he was quite big and he didn't want to hurt his partner, despite them having done this multiple times already. Once he was all the way in, he stilled and pressed soft kisses onto his lover's face before meeting his lips in a passionate kiss, trying to distract his lover from the discomfort.

After a few minutes, Y/N started gently rocking his hips, soft gasps leaving his lips which were already kiss swollen. Malleus gently gripped his lover's hips, slowly pulling out until only his tip was inside before slowly pushing back in. He kept up the slow, gentle pace for a bit before sweeter sounds started coming from his human.

No longer feeling much discomfort, Y/N wrapped his legs around Malleus's waist, using the leverage to rock back on his cock, "F-faster please~" he begged, dragging Malleus down to him, kissing him roughly and biting his bottom lip. Malleus chuckled into the needy kiss and obliged, his grip tightening on Y/N as he started snapping his hips, driving his cock into him harder and faster each time.

"Do you like this, darling~?" He moaned, fighting the urge to close his eyes due to the pleasure he felt to gaze down at his lover.

Y/N's eyes were glassy and half-lidded, gazing back up at the fae. His lips were parted and pants and moans were willing out with each hard thrust. Then, he threw his head back, and a particularly loud moan escaped him as his back arched. Malleus grinned and started hitting Y/N's sweet spot with each thrust. He moved one of his hands to Y/N's lower stomach, gently kneading the soft flesh.

"Tell me how much you want me to fill you up, darling~" he purred, his hips still rocking into his lover harshly.

Y/N stuttered and gasped, "I want you to fill me up so badly, baby please~" He was damn near babbling now. "Please fill me up and breed me~" From how tight he was, Malleus knew that his human wouldn't last much longer so he lowered his hand to stimulate his partner more. With a cry, Y/N came with a cry, his body shuddering and clenching around Malleus. The fae could only last for a little bit longer before he pushed in deep and came inside his lover. He rocked his hips a little to ride them both through their orgasms before stilling. He gently maneuvered them so that they were both laying on their sides cuddling before pulling out.

"Wow, I had no idea that that was one of your kinks," Y/N giggled a little once he had caught his breath. "Though honestly I don't mind. It was kind of hot."

Malleus grinned, kissing his lover on the forehead, "Honestly, I did not know either. The words just slipped out of my mouth. "But I'm very glad you liked it." He smiled and kissed him again.

#twst fanfic #twst x male reader #x male reader #male reader #twst malleus #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #smut #twisted wonderland #horni worm

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vnmpior · 2 years

Text

TATTOO PARLOR ☆ CRUSH

MICHAEL ☆ AFTON

x reader (gender neutral)

summary: it's your first time getting a tattoo, and you can't help but notice that your tattoo artist is a bit. . . hot

I need michael moots hmu + I'm taking over the michael tag :) this also might have 2 parts

I had to search up abt tattoos in the 80's for this ong and I use the word arm so much help

not proofread

part one ## part two

the bell above the door rang, announcing your presence. it was a pretty small shop, and there were only two people working there. one was occupied with inking someone and the other was wiping down equipment.

"hey, you here for a tattoo?" the man who wasn't working greeted you. "sorry, stupid question. you're obviously here for one."

you nodded, smiling. woah, he was attractive.

"there's this one thing I want. can I show you?" you started pulling your reference out your bag as he agreed.

"this is cool," he examined the drawing. "where do you want it?"

you pointed to where you wanted it on your lower arm.

"alright, just wait over here. I'll make a stencil." he pointed you over to a chair and went somewhere to the back.

a few minutes of absently swinging your legs and looking around the store, he finally came back.

he sat down in the chair that was facing yours, and grinned.

"ever had a tattoo done, love?" he motioned for you to show your arm to him and he began to wipe it down to sterilize it.

"no." you shook your head, shivering at the cold wipe. or was it because such a hot man was literally touching you? has to be the cold wipe.

"well, you picked a decent spot to get your tattoo, so this shouldn't hurt." he ran his hand through his mullet after throwing away the wipe.

his hair looks really soft.

you mentally scolded yourself, pushing that thought into the back of your mind as he pulled on some gloves.

"so, what's your name?" you asked when he began to place the stencil on your skin.

"michael. yours?" he seemed concentrated on placing it just right.

you gave him your name, and he slightly nodded in acknowledgement.

after nearly 20 tries, he seemed content with the placement and focused his attention on his equipment tray.

"I'm gonna have to shave the area real quick," he held up a razor.

he did this in silence, the buzzing of the other tattoo gun the only noise in the shop.

you were busy thinking about something- or someone- else, and michael snapped you out of it.

"this is gonna feel kinda weird, alright?" he waited for you to answer before settling the tattoo gun's needle onto your arm.

you slightly flinched, and michael locked eyes for you for a second before putting his gaze back to your arm.

"steady, love."

you slightly flushed and decided to admire his arms. he has zero right to be wearing a band shirt with rolled up sleeves.

"you work out a lot?" you broke the silence.

his muscles rippled, and he chuckled. "yeah, I do. you like them?"

"i didn't say that!" you defended yourself.

"I didn't say you said that," he smirked, wiping off some excess ink.

"mhm," he hummed.

yeah, you were gonna shut your mouth from now on. but man. . . he smells like vanilla and something more darker.

there wasn't really that much pain, until he grew closer to the inside of your elbow. you let out a little yelp, and michael asked you:

"you okay? it starts to hurt more in bends like that."

"I'll be fine. the pain isn't even that bad." you replied, holding back little tears.

"sure you aren't a masochist?" he joked, and by then he was done with that area of you arm.

"depends." you shot back.

he laughed.

"do you have any tattoos?" you haven't seen any on his arms.

"I do."

you started looking more closely at him. "I dont see any."

"you really love checking me out, huh? that's because they're in places where only some people can see."

your face heated up at the implication of that, only letting out a small "oh."

the rest of the linework was done without either party speaking to each other. you decided it was best you leave him alone.

of course, you still jumped a little whenever the pain got worse, and michael would comfort you, but other than that no real conversation was made.

nearly an hour later, michael shut off the gun and let out a sigh, standing up.

"you like it? all I have to do now is wrap it up." he stood, grabbing something that looked like saran wrap and applied it to your tattoo.

"I love it!" you exclaimed.

he was happy with your response, and then began to tell you about taking care of the tattoo.

"keep this bandage on for three days, and then you're going to have to take care of your tat for two weeks." he went on about self care, but you weren't exactly paying close attention.

you were pouting about not being able to see michael again. well, you could get another tattoo, but that means you'd have to get a lot.

"hey, love, did you hear me?" he waved his hand in front your face. "you're staring."

"I heard you," you lied. that's embarrassing.

"hope you did. if not, I'll give you this pamphlet that gives you the same instructions I just told you. jack over there will take your payment." he gestured over to the redhead and left to the back room again.

you payed, and michael came back.

"here," he held it out. "make sure you read it closely."

he winked and you were sure the tips of your ears were turning red. you took it from him, thanking him.

"thank you so much, michael."

"no problem. you should totally come again. you're one of the best clients I've had."

"I'll try my best," you promised.

you left, looking back at the store and seeing michael waving at you. you waved back and made it into your car.

you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and looked at the paper in your hand.

'call me love <3 xxx-xxxx-xxxx' was written on the front.

oh, you were definitely coming back.

#fnaf #michael afton imagine #michael afton #michael #michael afton x reader #fnaf michael afton #fnaf imagines #fnaf x reader #x reader #michael afton smut

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larkkspuur · 1 year

Photo

WE WERE A HAMMER TO THE STATUE OF DAVID

WE WERE A PAINTING YOU COULD NEVER FRAME

ID: A drawing of Mike Milligram. He has pink hair, a blue and yellow shirt that says Bullet Proof and has a number one on it, white pants, brown holsters, gloves, and boots, elbow and knee pads that are white with pink markings, a shoulder spike that is also white and pink, and a leather jacket. There is a shadow over half of his face that only reveals the eye. He is holding a sledgehammer above his head. Behind him is the Statue of David with it’s face smashed in. They are both shaded and have a cyan and magenta overtone. Behind them in bright speckled colors and white are the words The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys: National Anthem. Behind the head of the statue is burst lines, and the background is black with tons of textures and bright colors.

Textless version and alternate under cut

ID: same image but now without text

ID: same image but now the colors have shifted to be mostly reds, greens, and yellows as opposed to magentas, cyans, and yellows

#tlotfk #True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys #tlotfkna #mike milligram #fall out boy #eye strain #Artiver #yeah remember when i said i wasnt going to post anything with the new fall out boy song #oops

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songofsilentechoes · 1 year

Note

❦ - Changing clothes facing away, showing off their back

Noelle is helped home from the bar by Akio again. She stumbles up the stairs into her loft room, and misses the hook as she attempts to hang her cloak up.

Her apartment is a little warm. It looks like the remains of a fire were smouldering in the stove when she left. Not to mention she had spilled a little of her drink on her shirt.

She takes her jacket off and drops it on a chair, showing her dark vest and white overshirt underneath. At the end of the long sleeves, half-gloves cover most of her hands.

The short woman, seemingly oblivious to her blue-haired friend, loosens her collar and removes her vest, draping it over her jacket.

Before a protest can be made, she begins to take off her overshirt as she looks out her window across the city streets. With it fully unbuttoned, she tosses it aside exposing....

A form-fitting dark undershirt.

Interestingly, the shirt itself is sleeveless, and the gloves were actually much longer, reaching just above the elbow and matching the material of the shirt. Despite being almost completely covered still, the shirt gave a very clear picture of her figure. Fit, but not particularly muscular. Her chest was quite modest, too. Almost unremarkable, aside from how rarely she's seen without so many layers of clothing.

Plus, her upper arms were exposed, if only a small amount. But it's easily the most skin she's ever shown Akio.

#aquatic hybrid #thanks for the ask!#quite scandalous for her

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leonskennedysfavoritewife · 1 year

Text

BACK IN TOWN (2/?)

Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: fluffy as HELL. Hinted eating disorder. Anxiety. Depression. Supportive Eddie. Crude Language.

Note: I’ll be updating this AGAIN this week so you guys get a double update, I hope you all enjoy as this wasn’t a longer chapter but I have some good stuff planned. Love you all!

It had been two weeks since Eddie had taken you to the diner. You started work by now, and right away you were popular with the local ‘edgy’ crowd, your tattooing piquing interest. Things were getting into a good pattern- Eddie picking you up, you both jamming out to whatever music either of you had settled on for the day. Then, he picked you up in the evenings, and you started to get to a point where him dropping you off at home left you feeling… empty. You wanted him to stay longer, and sometimes it felt like he wanted to stay, too. Even though he was just next door, it felt like he was miles away.

Though, you thought you weren’t completely right in the head to be thinking of getting close enough with people to invite them over. Yeah, sure. Eddie had been at your place that one morning, but it was more of hospitality. A kind gesture. Everything he did was also just a kind gesture, too. Right? Surely everything was just a favor to Gareth.

You cleared your mind as you wiped down the tattoo you had just finished carving into the skin of an older man, according to his ID he was 45. You sanitized the area carefully and grabbed the plastic wrap to tape it over the fresh ink on his arm. The man paid his $300, thanking you profusely before leaving.

‘Final customer of the day. Time to get ready for closing.’

Your two colleagues, Ashley and Tyler, had left you to finish your clientele for the day- and get used to closing the shop.

Before you could get back up to grab the keys and lock up, the bell at the counter rang.

“I’m so sorry, We’re closing for the ni-“ You peered over your shoulder, a familiar sight of curls and dimples- tinged with trouble.

“Oh hey, you’re here early.”

“Yep. Thought I’d come in and request an appointment with Hawkin’s finest.”

“Oh please. Besides, what are you on about? You want a tattoo from me?”

“Well… I guess you don’t want this then.” He smirked to one side, flashing five one-hundred dollar bills.

“Holy shit. Okay, what are you wanting? I can stay in tonight and do it, if you have time.” You scrambled with a box of gloves you were about to stow away.

“That works. Sooo, where do I sign?”

“Just fill in the paperwork on that clipboard, then slip it into that filing folder on the wall. I’ll need to make a copy of your ID too, just leave that on the counter.”

“Sure thing. Just don’t try and steal my identity, I know how awesome I am and everything.”

“Pfft. You wish.” You start setting up the area for him, wondering where he would get this tattoo.

“If I stole your identity, your reputation would be pristine.”

“Oh, very funny miss. Are you this nice to all of your customers.”

“Just the ones that are a pain in my ass.” You flash him a grin without looking up from what you’re doing. You liked this sort of joking. It was cozy, it made you feel less alone in the world. If it wasn’t for Eddie, you probably wouldn’t have anyone to joke with.

“Alright, so what are we doing and where?”

“Well…” he pauses.

“I want a swarm of bats, sort of like the ones on my arm- but-“ He lifts his shirt- something that catches you off guard.

“I want them mirroring each other right above my chest.”

You try to find your words.

“I-Uh. Yeah, yeah. Mind if I freehand it?”

He smiles.

“Of course, you’re the artist.”

“Well, yeah. You’re the canvas though.”

“Fair point.”

You have him remove his shirt and lie down on the leather parlor bed that you had cling-wrapped, while you get your purple marker.

You glance over at him, propped up on his elbows. And ‘wow’. He’s in great shape. You were supposed to only notice his physique but caught a glimpse of his ‘happy trail’. Your face felt a little hot, so you look away- just before his eyes catch yours.

“Alright, time to get drawing.”

———

Being that close to Eddie wasn’t bad right? You were nervous, almost shaky-handed. But you made it through.

“Check it out in the mirror. Look good?”

Eddie sits up without effort, walking over to the body-length mirror, turning and eyeing himself.

“Perfect.” You again grin. Teeth showing.

“Alright, let’s get to it. Just lie down like you were.”

———

You have the ink and your machine set up now, ready to buzz at Eddie’s skin. Hopefully he would like it, which is weird. Everyone liked your work, so why did it matter if he did or not?

Deep down you knew something made it matter, but you’d be damned to make a mess of your life right now. Just focus.

You press into the pedal, eyes-locking with Eddie before you bring them back down to your work.

Throughout the tattoo you can see his stomach and pecs flinch- ever so slightly. He seemed to be doing fine, you both chatted here and there between the strokes of ink. Right now though, it made you nervous. Him looking at you- made you feel vulnerable. It was sickening, as in you felt queasy. Stomach fluttering. It should be easy to see him shirtless, even if you knew him, you saw people naked all day. Tattooed places most people couldn’t stand to look.

Before you could even blink any further or take any more swipes with a damp paper-towel to his skin, it was finished.

“Okie-dokie. Hop on up for me.”

Eddie winced enough for you to barely take notice, and again walked to the overly-stickered mirror. You enjoyed the sight of his muscular back. The way the muscles contracted an-

“Holy shit. This is fucking amazing.”

He looked in such awe, as if he had never seen any tattoos better than yours. Which you knew was impossible.

“I’m so glad you like it.” You squeak out, again, too vulnerable for your liking.

“Are you kidding? I love it.” He strides over, closing the distance. He reveals the money again, but this time there’s two more Benjamins

“Oh- no. I can’t take that much Eddie.”

He doesn’t move his hand.

“It’s your tip, I’d give you more but I don’t think you’d allow that anyways.”

“Please.” He continues.

You hesitantly take the money, pocketing it away in the back of your jeans.

“So you really like it?” You ask, showing a bit of your need for his approval.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I just… it’s nothing. If you wanna wait in the van for me, you’re more than welcome. It won’t take me long to clean this up.” He eyes you like he wants to pry but he doesn’t. You respect that about him sometimes.

“Alrighty. I’ll keep it warm for you.” He disappears out the glass door, the bell clanging.

———

You hop into the passenger seat, eager for your ride home. You always enjoyed these rides. You didn’t feel lonely.

“Alright, what music do we have lined up for tonight, you may ask?”

Eddie reveals an Annihilator tape before placing it into the van’s stereo.

(Allison Hell- Annihilator)

You listen for a bit, before commenting.

“Yeah, this fucks. Where’d you find it?”

“From a buddy of mine. It’s a newer album. Came out this year.”

“It’s awesome.”

He smiled at you. Before you could say anything else, he reached into the back seat- pulling a brown bag.

“I-uh. I brought you food. I wanted to make sure that you ate today. I know it gets busy sometimes and you can’t stop to eat. It’s your favorite, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you, Eddie. You really didn’t have to.”

You pulled the sandwiches from the bag, crinkling on the way out. You realized that this wasn’t from any store or restaurant.

“Did you make these?” He bared his teeth slightly, embarrassed.

“Yeah, I figured maybe you’d like homemade better.”

You unwrapped the sandwich, biting into it. Holy shit.

“Oh my gof. Thif ish sho fucking good.” You ignored your manners for a moment to talk with a mouth full, it really was good.

You were too lost in the food, but Eddie stared at you. It was cute watching you like this. Happy. Eating. Especially something that he made. He wanted to bring you lunch every day, even.

He started out of the parking lot, and you knew the ride would end at some point. God, you hated it. Why did it have to come to an end at all? Why couldn’t work be further away?

You finished the first sandwich, deciding to save the rest for if you have the munchies later. You took the time to look at Eddie here and there, appreciating the way the dash was casting a little bit of light on his face. Handsome.

———

“Alright, miss. Your home awaits.” Eddie gestured, unbuckling his seatbelt so he could walk you in.

He noticed you with your head down. Not moving to leave. His hand found it’s way to your shoulder for comfort.

“Hey, everything alright?”

You looked up at him.

“I- I just don’t want this to end. I hate saying goodbye every night. I just want to hang out a little longer.”

He smiled.

“That’s all you had to tell me. Let’s go in.”

You waited for him to come around and open the door. As he always did.

———

Eddie untied his docs, setting them by the door before sitting down. You headed to your room to put on an oversized band tee and some shorts before brushing your teeth.

“You know, I never told you how nice your place is.” He complimented from the couch.

“Ah, thank you. Still could use some sprucing up. Anyways, you want anything?” You poked your head around the corner, seeing if he heard you.

“Nah, I’m perfectly alright. Thanks.”

You smiled, the situation settling in. Things were turning around. He was here, you didn’t have to be alone. You went to join him on the couch. He already lit one of your joints, just like he did the last time he was here. You both passed it back and forth before you got an idea.

“Wanna watch a movie?” You perked up.

“Of course. What do you have in mind?”

“Aliens? It’s my favorite.”

“Shit, of course. I love alien movies.”

You beamed at his response before running to the VCR and fumbling through the cabinet to put the movie in.

You turned off the light, leaving the dim lamp on just in case- before settling back into the cushions next to Eddie. You looked up at him, his arm draped behind you on the couch as he stared intently at the movie. He caught you looking for a moment, keeping eye contact with you.

“Something wrong?”

“N-nothing.” Normally he wouldn’t push, but he thought maybe something was seriously wrong.

“You can talk to me, you know.”

You swallowed. Still looking at his eyes.

“It’s just that… you look nice, is all.” He grinned, his dimples and smile lines making their usual appearance.

“You look nice too.” You quickly looked back to the movie, hoping he would too- which he did. His hand found it’s way into your hair, playing with it. You relaxed into it, how peaceful it felt.

He must have saw how your face relaxed.

“Feels good? Not too much, is it?”

“N-no. It’s relaxing.”

“Good.” You wanted to lean into him. Rest on his chest.

‘Would that be pushing boundaries? Am i moving too fast right now?’

You decided to just stay where you were, enjoying this moment.

———

Your eyes opened, sunlight barely making its way through your closed blinds. It took you a moment to realize where you were (your bed, instead of the couch) and how last night was left.

You panicked, running to the wall phone and dialing Eddie’s number.

“Hello?” His voice. Your favorite sound right now.

“Hey. Did I fall asleep last night? I’m so sorry about that.”

“Hey.” He sounded raspy, probably just woke up.

“It’s okay. I put you to bed and went home- hope that wasn’t weird. You just seemed like you need good sleep instead of ‘groggy couch-sleep’.”

You smiled, holding the phone with both hands.

“Thank you. I really didn’t mean to doze off- I enjoyed spending time with you.”

“Me too, sweets. I have to go into work here shortly, but I’ll see you later, maybe?”

“Of course. I’ve got the day to do nothing.”

“Well enjoy it- and make sure to take it easy. Eat, relax. Do something fun. I’ll see you later.”

“Later, Eddie.”

“Bye sweets.”

*click*

You stared empty at the phone, sad that the call ended. At least you’d get to see him today. It took you a moment to process the nickname he gave you. Sweets. You wanted to hear it again, desperately. It made your stomach swirl happily.

‘Guess I’ll make breakfast.’

And with that was the start of a long day.

@sidthedollface2

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #stranger things #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie x reader #reader x eddie munson

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breaking-circles · 1 year

Text

[Image Description: Marian Churchland's Dragon Age OC template filled out with Denton "Dent" Hawke, a mage Champion of Kirkwall. Dent is shown from the hips up, looking warily over his left shoulder at something behind him. His right hand is holding an intricately carved wooden staff topped with a purple gem. His left hand is pushing the sleeve on his right arm up to his elbow. Blood is streaming out of his right arm in thin rivulets from a collection of cuts. The rivulets merge together into thicker strands that curl around his staff and end in a spiral above the top of the staff. He is wearing leather armor that covers his torso. On his right shoulder, he is wearing a spiked dark metal pauldron. Around his shoulders, he has a gray fur wrap that is latched to his dark metal gorget. He is wearing purplish leather fingerless gloves. On his right hand, fresh pale scars are visible across his fingers. Under his leather armor, he is wearing a blue form-fitting cloth shirt, the sleeves of which reach his wrists. Around his hips, the top of his leather belt can be seen, which is lined with gray fur. He has a smear of blood across his nose. His blonde hair is tucked behind his ears. He has a full equally blonde beard. His eyes are narrowed and one of his brows is raised like he's curious. He is frowning slightly. In the background, faint blue blood splashes. Next to his head are the words "Foul and corrupt are you / Who have taken My gift / And turned it against My children" Below the quote is an attribution to "-Transfigurations 18:10". Below the drawing, several traits are listed with a line between them to mark where the character falls between the two. Between cautious and reckless, Dent is more cautious; between selfless and self-serving, he is slightly more self-serving; between emotion-driven and logic-driven, he is very emotion-driven; between forthright and dissembling, he is more forthright; between friendly and unfriendly, he is more friendly; between devout and questioning he is more devout; and between trusting and suspicious he is more suspicious. Below the traits is a list of his main party: Anders, Varric, and Carver or Fenris. Below that, there are a series of symbols that indicate which choices he made throughout the game. The first three indicate he is a mage, who chose the blog magic specialization, and romanced Anders. The next row of five indicates he is diplomatic, Carver joined the Gray Wardens, the Arishok was killed, he sided with the mages, and spared Anders. End of Image Description]

Woo! Finals finished up so I finally got to draw again :] Here's my boy Denton "Dent" Hawke, do not be fooled by his battle-ready expression he is a wet rag of a man who usually gets his ass kicked. He is a huge supporter of mage rights but even more so mage wrongs.

Fun fact! The quote here is from the codex entry "Blood Magic: The Forbidden School". Because he's a blood mage. If you couldn't tell.

Here's the flat version!

[Image Description: The same drawing as in the first image, though this time without the background or shading, making the colors easier to pick out. End Description.]

Relevant stuff in the replies! My Inquisitor art is scheduled to post tomorrow

A reblog would be very appreciated! I'm limiting how many people are gonna see this because of the blood so every boost helps :]

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tricycleghoulette · 1 year

Text

Chapter 1 Ghost BC Cardinal fanfic

Surrounded in darkness aside from the soft yellow glow of candles that flickered while the flames whispered in the silent room. My eyes locked on the entrancing dance of a single flame against the dark wall, across from which I leisured on my black satin dressed bed. Upon the ornate Victorian brass sconce it stood, white wax dripped evenly while it burned. Then in the silence, I heard it. It's whispers summoned me.

To my feet I rose bare against the cool and dark acacia wood floor boards. The scarlet corduroy dress I wore fell just below the knee. Under it was my favorite comfort shirt, a tight black turtle neck. Just a few steps away, I quietly walked to the flame that called me. This act, forbidden. For the flames spoke to me. Should the Clergy catch wind I would be made to regret my gifts.

Arriving to the hunter green wall, I sighed allowing my eyes to fixate on the flame as the rest of the room disappeared into darkness. Pictures molded from the wick. "Tell me gentle soul, burn bright, burn high." I coaxed in a hushed tone, encouraging the spirit trying to speak through the element. The flickering heat rose, summoning an image of a severed head. My mouth fell ajar. "Is it y—..", my question was interrupted and my focus torn from the messenger by the sound of the brass door knob twisting. In my chest, my heart felt shoved to my spine, rapid and pounding. Eyes fixated on the door, unable to move as it crept open.

In this moment which felt stretched for an eternity, I considered quickly snuffing the flames between my fingers. A futile thought, surely I did not have enough time. Now ajar, a hand dressed in black leather draped upon the door knob. My breath was stuck in my chest, shoulders stiff and raised until I heard his voice.

Stepping into room with an audible sound of approval, "Ahh, so kind of you.", appeared my dear friend Cardinal.

From the corner of the room, still frozen I raised an eye brow with what likely appear as a grin tainted with guilt. His eyes tacked onto me, then to the flame, then back to me.

"You know, ... to, you know, bring light to the room." He continued, turning around to shut the heavy wooden door as quietly as possible. Once shut, the awkward Cardinal brushed off his black jacket adorn with silver embroidery. He eased wrinkles from his sleeves as he spoke playfully, "You know who else brings the light?"

In this moment it was pondered if I could move. Curious if he knew, or if he truly was ignorant of the flame speaking beside me.

"Hm? Do you?" He awoke me from these thoughts. Always so in need of reassurance and attention was he.

With a sigh I amused him, "Lucifer." I said plainly.

He chuckled, now approaching me with open arms extending towards my still stiff frame. The images of the severed head borne upon the candle's wick plagued my mind as he neared.

'Just who was that?', I quietly asked myself as leather gloves curled around my thin shoulders.

"What?" He inquired with the tilt of his head.

Could he hear my thoughts?

"Did the flames teach you a lesson?" He peered into my soul with eyes touched by the beauty of two colors.

My chestnut eyes snapped up to meet his which were adorn with disapproval. He lifted his right hand to part back a piece of hair that had obstructed my vision. All while squeezing my shoulder with the other.

"Cardinal I think —" I defensively began to blurt. Only to be cut off by his words spoken with concern.

"My child, should they catch you, I fear not even I can help you. The Clergy does not exist without secrecy. Should your eyes feast upon their truths which they try to hide, you will not be forgiven."

My head hung defeated, disappointed in myself for so easily given in. His hands slid to just above my elbows.

"Do not fear, they do not know of what you've done tonight. Tell me what is it you saw?", one hand dropped to his side, the other guiding me back to the bed. Cardinal eased me onto the bed, taking note of my clear discomfort, he left me there. The satin felt cold against the skin of my smooth legs. Abandoning me, he sat facing my direction at the wooden desk adjacent from my bed.

"What, cat got your tongue Seraphina, hm?" He teased, his lips turning slightly up into a smile. To his playful response, I narrowed my eyes and turned my head back to the flame across from the foot of the bed.

"I'd know more if you didn't interrupt me." I grumbled, replaying the face of the flame in my mind. I was nearly certain it was Papa III. Coming back from the dead to share one last important message. The thought made my heart sink to my feet. Despite assisting the clergy for many years, I rarely spoke with Papa. Busy organizing their papers, taking minutes in their meetings. I was quite literally the fly on their wall. Trusted most certainly, just not enough to be graced by his presence often. After his death uncertainty set across the administration. Who would lead us in our great mission? Nihil no longer had any children at his disposal. Each murdered, calculated by higher clergy for sure. There were whispers of Cardinal Copia being chosen to carry on the great responsibility left abandoned. Though this brought sadness to my heart, unlike Papa III, I spoke with Cardinal nearly every day. What would life be like in his absence? Would the fruits of fame taint him as they did his potential predecessor?

"Perhaps this interruption of mine was for the better." He sighed. I wondered if he was tired, they had been sending him out more. The black paint beneath his eyes hid any telling of weariness.

"I think it was three." I confessed, placing my hands in my lap where my eyes now focused. Fixated on the chips in my black nail polish. I heard the age in the wooden chair creak as Cardinal repositioned himself. He wanted to hear more, I felt his eyes beckoning me for more information without having to seek them out. "I just saw his head. That's all I saw, I swear. He spoke nothing. He wasn't loud enough."

Cardinal scoffed at the irony, "Pfft, suddenly in death he wants to be quiet? Not loud enough!" His black painted lip bared down on his bottom as he sucked it in. A new sense of nervousness set into the room. Silence between us merged with the uncertainty of the message from the dead. He hummed out a sigh, slapping his legs quickly as he stood up. "Well," he began, now standing over me, "it must be nothing then." There was a smile dressing his lips to hide the anxiety that still creased in his forehead.

My lips pressed to a slight frown as I peered up at him with apologies in my eyes, "I'm sorry I don't have more. I wanted more."

"Nonsense!" He swatted the air, his hand still in those dark leather gloves. "What would any of that matter to me.", he cleared his throat. Ready to leave this behind us.

There was so much I wished to speculate on, so much I wanted to discuss with him. Or just return to the flame, if only he would let me. These hopes were abandoned as he neared the lamp on the desk. With ease his finger twisted the knob which brought artificial light. Beside the lamp he found the candle snuffer, shining in gold. With a sense of protective purpose he snuffed out each candle in the room and he digressed to the next order of business.

"What is on my schedule for tonight?" He asked.

"Uhm.. I think a meeting with Sister?", news to which he sighed.

I stood from the bed, walking to the desk where my planner sat. Lifting it's brown leather cover embroidered with flowers I flipped through it's pages until I found today's date.

"Yes, an evening meeting in the library with Sister." I confirmed looking over at him as he killed the final flame. "Why the sigh? Did something happen? You enjoy time with Sister."

I placed a hand flat on the planner and leaned against the desk.

"Oh, it's nothing.." he said with a shrug.

I rolled my eyes, turning back to the planner shutting it with a slap. It was only a matter of time until he cracked. Either that or he was bursting at the seams awaiting me to inquire further.

"Why?", I went for the bite. His eyes seemed to glimmer with a sense of satisfaction from my question.

"The old man.." he began.

"You mean Nihil..?" I interrupted.

"Yeah whatever, Nihil.." he mocked, "..he is always with her these days. As if he really thinks she's into old men."

"Oh Copia, you sound like a child." I teased

He scoffed, surprised by my playful accusation. "Don't act surprised, you ride a tricycle around the ministry." I added with a smirk.

He pointed a gloved finger at me, "You know...I got secrets on you. You should watch your mouth!", still pointing as he walked towards me. I swatted his hand down with a playful slap.

"You'd never. You'd be lost without me here." I smiled confidently.

He looked down, shoulders sinking with a sigh, "You're right. So that's why you're attending dinner with me." He glanced back up. I look for any sign of playfulness on his aging face, no longer were we playing.

It felt as if a tight string was being pulled in my throat, "W-What?" I stammered in disbelief. As part of the Ministry's administration I had sat in for purposes of business. Never so intimate as a one on one meeting with Sister and the rumored future heir of the, "Papa", title. Not to mention the high potential of Papa Nihil being there as well.

"Yes, perhaps it will be a good reminder of who can decide your fate in an instant if you keep up with these..these.." his arms extending towards my direction going up the length of my body and back down as his fingers wiggled in the empty air, attempting to find the right word, "..games!" he said a little louder, frustrated by his sudden lack of vocabulary. He flung his hands to his side, using the momentum to spin around on his heals.

Games? I thought to myself. Is that how he viewed this? As if it was juvenile or fun? There was a sense of injury in my chest.

"Hurry up. We don't have all that much time. Sister is keen on timely arrival." He advised as if I did not already know.

"Are you sure they would want me there?", asked sheepishly to his back.

"If she could invite him, then I can invite my assistant." was his response, still facing the door.

"But is it a good idea. They scare me Copia." I confessed looking away from his frame and back to the candle no longer alit. "Like you said, they can end me. What if they somehow sense it? What if there is a flame at the table and I have a bad poker face?" I looked back to him.

He looked over his black clothed should with a shrug, "Well then, we shall find out." He grinned turning away to adjust his bat wing Biretta.

I swallowed hard and nodded, "yeah, we shall see".

#ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #cardinal copia #terzo #papa secondo #papa emeritus iv #tobias forge #ghost fanfiction #ghost one shot #fanfic #fan fiction #impera era #ghoul #nameless ghouls #ghoulette #wattpad

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imfallingimflying · 3 months

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Flowing blowing cold air rips its way through the gap between my jacket at my belt line. It sneaks and crawls its way under my shirt, chilling the skin that shows. The wind leaves me as soon as it comes, which saddens me the same way losing a best friend to time or death or space or life does. In a moment I mourn the gift that the blustering air gave me, and I move on.

I stand at the edge of a small wooden pier. There's snow covering it, nearly a foot of the stuff. My boots have left deep footholds and empty canyons in the snow, blemishing its serene white surface. A boat rocks next to me, filled with ice so the front is nearly sinking. I'm sure more weight on it and it would go under, deep into the lake. The lake is mostly frozen over, a layer, a coat of clear ice on top. Not enough to walk on but just enough to drop something onto and watch it slide away. Taunting you, wanting you to try to collect it, just try. Step onto the ice and watch as white lightning strikes crack their way around you.

I'd already thrown off my hat and gloves, tossed them to the side. The sun and my pockets work in tandem to warm my head and hands, no cotton cover needed. I look around the lake, listening for activity, watching for movement, hoping for anything upon anything. Silence. Nobody's awake at this hour, it's too early.

I can feel an ache behind my eyes. It's been there for weeks, maybe months now. Has it been a year? This pulling at the nerve that connects to my brain. It feels as if I need to cry. I never do. I lost the ability to somewhere, haven't had the need to find it yet. I wan't to sleep. I consider closing my eyes, drifting off and imagining they don't exist. That the pain behind them is gone and leaves two deep deep pits, lakes of darkness where I used to look out of.

"Am I dead?" The question slaps me awake. Why would I wonder that? I can see, I can feel the cold air, I could talk, should I choose to. But then I question it more. Nobody is around to see, and what is living without anybody else around? Truly, does one need to be seen to exist? Experienced? If nobody knew you were born, if you never saw a single soul, would it even matter? I humor these theatrical thoughts. A smile enters my face, morbid and sarcastic. A part of me feels proud, asking myself such a divisive question.

Then the pain behind my eyes comes back into focus, and it pulls my eyes down at the water like an anchor, or perhaps a brick. I'm looking at the water below me. It's a shade of dark green, like a mold. I watch a fish swim to the surface, gray and shiny. It opens its mouth as it hits the surface, sucking on the bottom of the ice.

Another morbid thought crawls its way into my head. A spider of troubling questions tying together a web of intrusive "what if"s. I suppose for a second: "If you cannot live without it being seen, could you die if nobody knew?"

I immediately recognize the hypocrisy of the statement. Of course someone would know eventually. After all, people go missing all the time, and someone has to notice they're gone to report it. Sooner or later they turn up anyway, chopped up in a ditch or something. They died and nobody was there to watch.

But still, the thought entices me, a deep, fucked up curiosity eating and digging its way through my brain like a millipede. I raise my boot off the snowy pier, and hold it above the water. I could step in right now. Nobody would see it. I wonder what would happen then, if nobody knew that you died, that I was flailing and suffocating under the ice. Schrodinger's corpse. I chuckle at the thought. I think about the plunge, the ice wetting my jeans and worming its way under my jacket. The water would cover me, jealous that it couldn't embrace me until now. It would push its way into my mouth, freeze my hands until my fingers fall off, freeze my knees and elbows in place. I shiver, and plant the raised boot back on the pier.

Something strange happens then. Something... wrong. A different sensation to all of the world around me. A strange aesthetic change. I can feel a voice exit someone behind me, yet I hadn't heard them approach. I feel two hands on my back, though I'm not sure about the number of fingers on each hand. With a single word, they push me off the pier. I turn in the air, swiveling on my foot before I leave the ground. All at once all my dreams and visualizations arrive at one finally realized moment. A part of me wanted to thank them. They say one word before I hit the ice.

"Pig."

#creative writing

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maccreadysbaby · 1 year

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Chapter Four: The Maiming Robot

featured characters: tommy (oc) dr. amari, daisy, kl-e-o

word count: 3,141

full chapter guide

—

The first thing Tommy saw was white. A bright, white light right above her head. Her eyes stung and she could feel the wound in her torso throbbing. Was she...?

Tommy's eyes adjusted slowly, revealing that she was in a makeshift medical room, laying on a metal table, and was not, in fact, dead.

Her mind raced to catch up with all that had happened. Left Ticon at dawn… the mine… the spike. That she was on her way to see the Atom Cats. When that thought struck her mind, she shot bolt-upright on the table. A sharp pain reverberated all the way up and down her body, so piercing she could feel it in her bones, in her teeth. A small groan slipped from between her lips and she collapsed back down on the metal.

"Slowly, okay?"

Tommy flinched when another person’s voice sounded from her left. She propped herself up on her elbows and shimmied away, just the slightest bit she could without being in too much pain, glancing at the person in front of her.

It was a middle aged woman. Her hair was pulled into a bun on the back of her head, her brown eyes and tan complexion contrasting nicely with the long, stark white lab coat she was wearing. She was holding her hands out toward Tommy, but not touching her.

"It is going to be painful for a couple of days. The drugs are in your system, but they, strangely, aren't acting as quickly as I hoped,” She explained.

Tommy blinked, hardly comprehending what the woman was saying. Her head was throbbing, she felt like she was going to vomit, and her body was in so much pain it felt like lava coursing through her veins in the place of blood. She glanced down at her clothes. Her pants were still on, and her magenta shirt was there, but everything was bloody and the shirt, torn to pieces. Her boots and gloves were still on, but her toolbelt, bag, and hat were gone.

"I’m Doctor Amari, you’re still here, in Goodneighbor,” The woman stated, scanning the girl warily. “How are you feeling?”

Tommy wanted to make a sarcastic remark, but with the state of her body, she simply didn’t have the energy.

"Bad," She stated flatly. Her voice was sort of raspy, and it hurt her chest to speak. She pushed herself upright with a pained wince, slowly throwing her legs over the edge of the metal table.

"I suspected such. I'm not sure how you managed to make it here with such extensive injuries... but thank goodness you did, otherwise we'd never have saved you,"

Tommy glanced around, ignoring the doctor’s mentions of her brush with death, scanning all of the furniture and supplies sitting about. It looked like she was in a basement... she could see stairs through the door. There were tables and shelves scattered about, sprinkled with medical supplies and chems. A giant blue machine and bubble pod sat over to the left. Tommy decided not to ask about those. Instead, she looked around until she spotted her stuff — her bag, police cap, sniper, shotgun, and toolbelt, all on an old, musty couch that sat to the right. It didn’t seem to be tampered with… but in Goodneighbor, there was no telling.

Tommy pushed herself off the examination table, nearly stumbling straight into the doctor when an all new wave of agony pulsed through her small frame. Two hands landed under her arms.

"You need to sit down,"

"No, I… I’m on a really tight schedule. What time is it?" Tommy questioned, mustering up the courage to walk over to the couch. It hurt like an absolute mother, though.

The doctor glanced at a small watch on her wrist. “Ten to seven in the evening.”

"Oh, dang it," Tommy muttered, shaking her head as she grabbed her tool belt and shoved it in her bag. It would hurt way too bad to bend over and put it on. She slid her navy blue hat on her head and hooked her sniper rifle to the makeshift clamp on her bag.

"Do you know where I can get some new clothes, ma'am?"

"You need to slow down. Injuries like you sustained can keep people bedridden for days, maybe even weeks. Why don’t you just take a breather and stay here for a bit, hm?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” Tommy muttered, slinging her bag onto her shoulder with a grunt of pain and effort. “I’ve gotta go… I’ve gotta go home.”

Doctor Amari sighed. “At least let me give you some painkillers.”

Tommy turned and glowered at her, and she stared straight back. This went on for a solid thirty seconds. The teenager eventually relented, because painkillers sounded so good right then. “Fine.”

Amari went straight to a little table, sliding some gloves on and shuffling through a few drawers. After a few moments, she approached Tommy with a cotton ball and a syringe filled with a cloudy purple liquid.

“Your body isn’t taking to the medicine as quickly as other people’s do, so I’ve increased your dosage just a little bit. Have you ever been addicted to Med-X?”

Tommy held out her left arm to the doctor, who gently rolled up her sleeve. “Nope.”

“Good,” She hummed. She cleaned a small area on the inside of the teenager's elbow with the cold cotton ball, then swapped the syringe into her hand. “You aren’t afraid of needles, are you?”

“Maybe if someone was stabbing my eyes out with them. But in the arm, no,” Tommy explained. The doctor made an odd sound that could pass as a chuckle if Tommy covered an ear, gently and steadily inserting the needle into her vein without a hitch. She watched her push the plunger down, and the purple liquid disappear, until she pulled it out and massaged the area with her thumb.

“There you go.”

“Thank you,” Tommy stated, rolling her sleeve back down. She took her bag back off for a moment, pulled out a small burlap sack, and put the ruck back on. She handed the sack to the Doctor. “For saving my life.”

The Doctor smiled sheepishly, grabbing the bag and weighing it in her hand. “I can’t take all of this from you, sweetheart.”

“Please, I have more. Thank you,” Tommy repeated, giving her a tight-lipped smile. The woman returned the gesture, patting her shoulder lightly. Tommy grabbed her shotgun and checked if it was loaded, tossing the sling over her shoulder and turning to leave.

Forcing herself up the stairs was more of a task than it ever should’ve been. Tommy huffed and puffed and grunted as she passed through the upstairs of the building, deciding her head and body hurt too badly to ask about the people in bubble pods or the nicely dressed woman sitting in the middle of the room. Thankfully, that nicely dressed woman only said one thing along the lines of ‘nice to see ya’ walking back outta here’ but Tommy wasn’t exactly sure if that’s what she said or not. She was too focused on not collapsing.

When she opened the door to the outside world, the cool air washed over her like a tidal wave, giving her instant chills. Her wound was throbbing, and her body was wracked with pain, but she didn't care. She needed to get some new clothes and leave. She needed to go home. She needed her family. Because frankly, she’d never been so injured without an Atom Cat by her side, and she didn’t like it. It felt… wrong.

She walked forward, stumbling down a single step she didn’t even notice was there. There were a bunch of people on the old, rundown street. A few had booths to sell supplies at, and others were just walking to and fro. Some were guards of some sort, carrying guns and wearing suits. It smelled a bit like garbage and urine. There were a few other buildings open to the public... but not many, and the sewer grates had smoke billowing out of them for some reason. She’d never actually been to Goodneighbor, but it definitely lived up to the stories. A gang, drug, and drifter hotspot, a dirty town full of dirty people — and looked like exactly that.

And something else it was outside, was getting dark. The sky was a dim gray, littered with green-tinted stars. Her Friday was gone in a blink of the eye. She’d never not gotten to the garage on Friday, and Zeke was probably worried sick.

She walked out into the middle of the street, trying to avoid all of the wandering eyes that decided to stick to her. There were drifter men walking back and forth, in road leathers eyeing her a way she didn’t want to be eyed. There was a woman in a pink dress sitting on a bench ahead, in a small courtyard area, so Tommy headed that way.

"Excuse me, um... can you point me to Daisy?" She asked, holding a little too tight to her shotgun. She couldn’t stop glancing backwards, at the creepy people that seemed to keep appearing from the alleys and shadows.

The woman gasped, standing up so quickly her black hair bounced.

"Oh, you're that girl! The one that showed up at the door!" She exclaimed, drawing way too much attention Tommy didn’t want. "Good to see you're still kicking. A lot of us thought you wouldn't make it when Daisy hauled you through here."

Tommy anxiously glanced around, feeling gazes on her from every angle. Ghouls and humans alike stared from every nook and cranny of the settlement. "Daisy?"

"Yeah, she's the one that brought you to Dr. Amari. Her shops over by the front gate. She's the one that saw you come... well, fall through the door." The woman pointed to their left, a thin alley Tommy hadn't seen. It was straight past a building labeled The Third Rail.

"Oh," The teen muttered, mind flashing back to the blur of pain that earlier had been. She had to push it away, placing her hand against the wound on her torso. She hadn’t even realized that the pain was dulling, safely assuming the Med-X was kicking in. "Thanks..."

The woman nodded, and Tommy drifted past her, tapping on the stock of her shotgun anxiously. She tried her best to ignore the way every single ghoul and drifter seemed to be eyeing her, and headed straight down the alley the woman had pointed to.

Two shops came into her vision. One called Daisy's Discounts, the other, Kill or be Killed. Behind the counter of the shop closest to her was a fully functional assaultron, which made Tommy do a double take. She could see ammo crates, weapons, and a power armor stand in the shop, so… obviously it didn’t play around. She didn’t know whether she should feel safe or… in danger. That’s definitely one no nonsense weapons dealer to have hanging around.

The second shop, Daisy’s Discounts, was a little smaller, with a ghoul woman in a pink flannel and wig behind the counter. Behind her was full of random shelves and tables of supplies. A general store type booth, Tommy guessed.

"There she is!" The ghoul exclaimed from behind the counter, leaning forward. "Had me worried."

Tommy smiled with tight lips, stepping into the old, rickety building toward the counter. She watched Daisy’s eyes trail up and down her appearance. "I heard you were the one who spotted me. Thanks for helping, Daisy."

"Anytime… uh,"

"Tommy," She stated, holding out a hand for her to shake. Daisy took it and shook firmly, smiling.

"Anytime, Tommy."

Tommy smiled as she retracted her hand. "I need some new clothes. Got any?"

"Of course," Daisy smiled, leaning down behind her counter. "Do you want pink, green, blue-"

"Do you have anything with a little bit of... protection? Obviously the wasteland isn’t very fond of me, and I'm not in the shape to frolic around in a sundress.”

Daisy's smile faltered a bit, but she hardly let it show. "Yeah. People in your line of work show up, half-dead to random communities often?"

Tommy shrugged, leaning against the counter. "Most don't make it to the random communities."

Daisy was frowning now. It was the truth, though — Railroad Agents had a reputation for flirting with death, only to panic when it flirted back.

Daisy didn't reply, but instead pulled out an old drifter's outfit. It had an assault gas mask pinned on like some sort of hood. It wasn't the best, but neither was the jean and t-shirt combo she had on before. “This is probably the most protection you’ll get without buying extra armor. Has some leather sewn into the chest, arms, back, and legs, as well as an assault gas mask attached as a hood.”

"How much?" Tommy questioned, taking her bag off one shoulder and fiddling inside of it for another burlap sack.

"Take it. You being okay is enough payment for me,"

Tommy's brows turned in, and she didn’t stop digging in her bag. "No. No, I'm gonna pay you, you saved me."

"Don't worry about it. Really," Daisy insisted. "I won't take money from a wounded child."

Tommy huffed lightly. “I’m not a child.”

Daisy pushed the clothes across the counter, and Tommy stared at them for a moment. She looked up at the ghoul and locked eyes with her, her dark, ghoulified pupils boring into the very depths of her soul. Tommy rolled her eyes and took the clothes hesitantly.

"Where are you headed?" Daisy asked, a small triumphant smile beaming on her face.

"Home, down near Quincy,"

Daisy's dark eyes widened. "You're going that far? In that shape? Maybe you should stay here a bit longer."

"I... I can't. I'm in a time crunch," Tommy explained. She finally let her shotgun hang in front of her and put her hands on her hips.

"You're young, you can't go all that way by yourself in the shape that you're in,"

"I've done similar before," Tommy replied, backing away from the booth. "I'm sorry, but I really need to go."

"Okay, hold on. Give me ten minutes, okay? You can change upstairs and go shop at K-L-E-O's next door or something," Daisy ordered, walking around her booth and out onto the street. “Ten minutes.”

Tommy huffed and prepared to reply, to shut her down, but Daisy hurried off without another word before she could.

She huffed, glancing at the door of the settlement. She could just leave, disappear before Daisy returned, but something about that made her feel guilty.

She sighed and made her way up the old rickety stairs of Daisy’s store, changing into the outfit at the top. It was a mixture of green and brown tones. It actually looked sort of cool when she slid on the gas mask... it was a lot nicer than she thought. It made her not-so-large stature look about as tough as it possibly could in the shape she was in. She shoved her clothes into her bag and went back downstairs.

She went back downstairs, taking Daisy's advice and heading next door for some ammo.

Thank goodness Tommy was used to P.A.M, or she definitely would've been freaked out when she saw KL-E-O. She looked like she’d been spit shined and perfected like, the day before. She was a lot different from P.A.M. — mostly on the personality spectrum.

"Everything here is guaranteed to injure, maim, or kill at your discretion. Except me. I only kill when I want to.”

That was the first thing Tommy heard from the robot. She couldn’t help the faint chuckle that bubbled up in her throat as she made it to the counter. Maybe it was because she thought it was funny, maybe it was because she was nervous. She didn’t even know. “I'm here for some shotgun shells and .308."

The robot turned and began sifting through ammo cans. "This is all I have."

She turned and placed about seven boxes of each on the counter. Tommy pulled out a bag of caps and traded with her, shoving the boxes in her bag with a grunt of effort. "Thank you."

"Anytime, darling,"

Tommy left just as fast as she'd come, (not because she thought KL-E-O would maim her) turning into Daisy's shop to wait for her return. Now that she was closer, she glanced at Daisy’s organization. Crates, tables, bins. She had food, random junk, tons of scrap and fried electrics that made Tommy lean a little closer to examine. It was quite the business she was running.

"Tommy," She heard Daisy's voice ring from behind her. She turned around, locking eyes with the ghoul again. She walked past Tommy and behind her counter.

"I couldn't get him to come down, but I want you to come meet someone," Daisy explained. "A mercenary that can get you home."

Tommy's gaze faltered, brows creasing, and she grabbed onto her shotgun again. "I don't need a mercenary, Daisy."

"You've got a long way to go. He's free,"

Tommy shook her head sharply. "I don't need a paid killer. I’m walking, not assassinating anyone.”

"He'll help-"

"I really appreciate it. I do. But I'm fine on my own," Tommy spat, a little more venom on her words than she meant for them to have. Daisy frowned. "I've traveled this distance a ton of times. I'm fine." She continued.

Daisy gestured to Tommy's torso with a smug expression. "Obviously not."

Tommy smiled a sarcastic smile even though she couldn't see it. "That was a one-in-a-million stupid mistake. Couldn't have been prevented, even if I had an army behind me."

Daisy said nothing.

"I'm sorry, but I'm running late,"

"It doesn't make you weak to have help. Think of it as another way of repaying me for saving your life," The ghoul pleaded. Tommy narrowed her eyes, huffing. "Wouldn't do me any good if you died as soon as you left, would it?"

A few seconds passed with the two females staring straight into the other's soul. Daisy had that motherly vibe on her, a strange feeling that made Tommy want to obey.

"No," Tommy grumbled, shifting her shotgun in her arms. Being in the Railroad was too sensitive to have outside partners. There were too many things that could expose Agents, too many people that wanted them all dead. It wasn’t worth the risk. "He can't come. I'm fine."

Daisy rolled her eyes. Tommy backed up and turned, heading toward the front door.

"Tommy-"

"I'm trained to shoot people who follow me. I'd remember that for the sake of your friend," Tommy stared blankly, pushing the door open and disappearing into the city on the other side.

—

#duncan maccready #rj maccready #fo4 maccready #maccready x oc #maccready #mb; before us #fallout four oc #fallout oc #fo4 oc #oc; tommy

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letaliabane · 2 years

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Scars

bruce wayne x reader/batman x reader

slight spoilers for the movie!! (Do yourselves a favour and go see it!)

warnings: little bit of gore, bodily scars

genre: implied smut (no full smut so below +18 kiddies get outta here!!), soft!brucewayne

a/n: won't lie this was created literally because of the gif above (look at that man damn) and is very self indulgent for meself so I’ll see meself out! anyway enjoy!

‘Long night again Ma’am?’

You blinked sleepily, a steaming teacup was placed in front of you along with a plate of cold meats and crackers. Rubbing your eyes, you looked up at him with a smile.

‘Indeed Alfred. Why don’t you head off to bed? You deserve the rest of the night off you’ve been working so hard.’

‘Thats very kind of you Miss Y/N thank you. Please take care of yourself too, at least get some shut eye before Master Wayne gets back. I’ll take my leave.’ He gave you a sweet smile, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. You’d basically become apart of the Wayne household and just like Bruce, saw Alfred as a fatherly figure.

As soon as the elevator disappeared out of sight, you released a massive sigh, leaning your elbows on the table, resting your head in your hands.

It had been a very intense few weeks, more than the usual.

With the Riddler taken down and locked up in Arkham, and the city of Gotham still in disarray due to the flooding, the worst criminals had taken it upon themselves to make the lives of the GCPD and citizens worse. But your boyfriend wasn’t allowing that to pass.

You had offered your services to listen in on the police radio for any particular crimes that stood out before letting him know. Though you barely saw each you wanted to help as best as he could.

Bruce deeply appreciated the help these past few months, especially in the last few weeks, though he didn’t show it too often. He couldn’t be everywhere at once, but at least he had someone helping in his corner besides Alfred.

Working through the last few months, you noticed his tactics had changed, people rising more to the occasion of his presence within the city, a protective force more than a vigilante looked for his fix of adrenaline in a fight. And it made you proud, and you knew his parents would be so utterly proud of him.

Just as you began to consider laying down for a nap the screeching of tires made you turn, shielding your eyes quickly as the floodlights on the bike blinded you, coming to halt and turning off.

Watching with a smile as the familiar silhouette got off the bike, you knew his routine. Post removing the paint from his face he’d wander to his desk, but instead, surprised you as he made his way straight towards you.

He left a trail behind him, removing his gloves, the belt, his cape, the cowl, all falling behind him until he stood over you. Without words Bruce gave you a small smile. As if to say ‘it’s over for tonight. I’m home, I'm all yours.’

You sighed softly at the touch of his hand against your cheek, the unexpected softness sending you into a spiral. Whimpering as he leant to kiss your forehead, trailing them across your face so gently like butterfly wings against wind.

Eyes flickering between his and his lips, a noticeable and recognisable fire was alight within hthem.

And you knew immediately you weren’t getting sleep anytime soon. Not that you were complaining though.

A gasp left you, Bruce pushing you up against the wall, lips not parting from yours, his hands caging you in. You untucked his sweat slick shirt, briefly parting before tugging it over his head tossing it blindly.

You don’t how you had made it this far through Wayne Tower. Had Bruce carried you? Had you stumbled into the elevator together and all the way to the bedroom? You really had no idea!

Bruce attacks your neck, mouth searing hot, wet and rough, hips seeking friction. Holding his head close, your fingers ran through his hair, a groan rippled against your skin from his lips. He pulled you from the wall and further into the room with hasty need.

You leant up on your tiptoes to kiss his neck, smiling at the noises that escaped him, your tongue and lips press into his skin. But you slowed down as the light slipped over Bruce’s skin, allowing you to see him more clearly.

Breathing heavily against his chest, you let your mouth skim against the large scar on his left collarbone. A small bullet wound he had gained recently, nothing life threatening thankfully, but it still remained as a reminder to lay thicker kevlar into the armour.

Fingertips traced his skin, the map of scars that took up the canvas of his body. One in particular always stand out to you, it would for the rest of your life.

The large jagged scar just below his heart; one that you were far too familiar with.

It had been the night you found out Bruce was the Batman.

You’d been at the Tower, Alfred having told you the Master wouldn’t be home for many hours, and with the room that was always prepped for you (this was before you became a couple), and recommending you staying the night.

If you hadn’t gotten out of bed for a late night snack, to this day your not sure if anyone would’ve found him.

You had stood in frozen horror at the sight of a barely conscious Bruce in the corner of the elevator surrounded in a puddle of his own blood, still in his suit and the cowl abandoned at his side.

Your scream had echoed throughout the entire Tower (Alfred will never admit how it struck the fear of God within him; how he found you cradling Bruce in your arms, sobbing, trying to keep him awake) and it is an image that will never be erased from your mind, how close you were to losing him-

To distract you from the image within your mind you leant forward and pressed gentle kisses against the raised skin, nose grazing the webbed lines. A tremble ran throughout Bruce’s body, a whine leaving his lips, hand gripping the back of your head.

When he pulled your face back up to his you expected his kiss to be rough and full of desperate desire, instead it was slow, careful mere pecks. Before once more, building in intensity, making you get lost, almost forgetting to breathe.

Succumbing to his dominance, you felt his hands dip beneath your thighs picking you up with absolute ease before carrying you over to the bed.

You cried out as pleasure overwhelmed your body, nails digging into Bruce’s arms as he held himself up over you, a deep guttural groan leaving him as the thrusts of his hips came to a halt. Sweat glistened against your bodies, burning with heat and pain at the strain of your muscles.

Even through the heavy haze, you noticed the shivers that overtook your lovers body, reaching your arms up to cradle him and bring him to rest against you, pressed chest to chest, legs tangled together beneath the sheets.

Letting your fingertips wander, your hands ran over his back. You knew how weak it made him; the physical contact you shared, and he loved it. His own hands ran up and down your sides lovingly, exploring every nook carefully, memorising every detail.

Both of you lay there in silence, no words needed as you caught your breath, his head resting between your breasts, listening to your heart thump against his ear, a soothing melody.

'Bruce?’

His head lifted instantly, a tired smile gracing his lips when you kissed his nose cheekily with a giggle, cupping your cheek to press a kiss to your lips sleepily.

‘I love you.’

‘I love you too, my heart.’

masterlist - robert pattinson masterlist

requests are welcomed in the ask box if anyone would like one

________

tagged: @mischiefmanaged71 @xoxoloverb @wandas-wife @t-stark35 @laufeysonsbarnes @sillynilly27 @honey-im-hotdog @shannonxg @ceruleanrainblues @hawkchaos @a-bolanos

tags that aren’t working:

@blkwayne @techno54 @loverofminee @notgonnadothis @taetaeyeontae @abarelyexistentbeing @mybookslibrarieskpopbear

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plush-rabbit · 3 years

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Aphrodisiac Induced Reader + The Brothers

A/N: The brothers!! I hope yall enjoy!! Aphrodisiac induced is always a fun thing to play with. The brothers,, my beloved

You really should have known better than to take food that was offered by Beel. You know that he has the right intentions in mind- that him sharing food is a miracle of itself and rejecting him would have his brows furrowed and lips pursed into a pout- but he’s also gluttony. He can eat whatever he wants and as much as he wants without so much of a stomach ache. You, on the other hand, cannot. You should have seen this coming when the cupcake you bite into filled your mouth with such an indescribable sweetness that it made your teeth ache, the flavor otherworldly and leaving you hungry for me, taking greedy bites out of the cutely decorated pastry. There was a sharp pang in your stomach, your body on fire and sex dripping with every nudge that your body made.

You couldn’t be alone right now- or maybe you should have been left alone, maybe that would have saved you from humiliation of your dripping arousal that was leaking past your slit. You’re quick to rise, standing on shaky legs, curled over as your cheeks burn, sweat beading against your skin, only worsening the sensitive state that you are in. It’s fast-acting, making your breaths come out in heated gasps, and everything just feels a bit too much, just too good for it to be normal. An aphrodisiac- a strong one that is making you impossibly aroused. You suck in a sharp breath and go to the person who you know will treat you right.

Lucifer:

Lucifer is a gentleman- most of the time at least. But during your time of need he is perfect to go to. He’ll allow you- or more like insist- that you stay in his office until the aphrodisiac’s effects have passed. You’ll lay on the couch, face buried into a throw pillow while the other one is between your legs. Shame has long been gone since you’ve entered his domain, his eyes never really leaving your shaky frame. When you moan his name, he stiffens, the pen in his hand is held tighter but he still rises, walking towards you in concern. He’ll sit beside you, let his hand curve over your forehead, feeling the heat go through his glove.

He clears his throat, pulling his hand away, and there’s this heavy look on your face, the pillow squeezed tight between your legs, the pillow under your head has faint imprints of your teeth. He’ll avoid touching you, pulling his hand away from you and walking briskly to his desk chair. He can hear your steps across the floor, the way you gasp his name and seem to rub your thighs together for any sort of friction. He won’t spare you a glance, eyes focused on the paperwork in front of him. Underneath the desk, his leg jolts as you snake your arms around his shoulders, your lips wet as they touch his neck.

There isn’t enough time in the day and night for him to focus on his work and on your growing needs that are starting to mark everything in his office. Black ink scratches along the pape, the letters growing shaky as you snake your way onto him. He’s actually startled when you situate yourself on his lap, your sex pressed against his erection. He’s surprised by your sudden confidence but writes it off due to the effects of the aphrodisiac. You’re above him, arms snaked once more on his shoulders and you play with the hair that rests on the nape of his neck.

The feeling of shame is not foreign to the Avatar of Pride but even then, letting you know that he is indeed aroused given the situation does bring a bit of heat to his body. His hands find their way to hold onto your hips, trying to ignore the way that you have begun to grind against his. But there is work to do and despite the growing need to pleasure both you and himself, he displaces you, ignoring the way that you call his name and can’t seem to stop touching him.

The only way to gain his attention that you desperately long for is to push him away, the wheels locking against an edge of the floor and you bend yourself over the desk. Lucifer wants to throw you out so you can be another’s problem but you pull your bottom layer off, your fingers searching inside your leaking hole and pride starts to fuel him. You touch yourself in front of him, beg for him to touch you- of course you would. Slender hands come to touch your body, and you’re already leaking onto the floor, thick, sweet arousal staining the very room that he allowed you to enter. His cock is against you, rimming around your entrance, hearing your cries and please for him to simply fuck you but you did cause him to become distracted from very important work and he is going to punish you for that.

Mammon:

Of course you’d go to him. He is your first after all, why wouldn’t you go to The Great Mammon? But wow, he was over his head when you came knocking at his door. Always eager to see and spend time with you, he allows you to enter without seeing the state you’re in. You stagger into his room, holding his hand and stumbling into him and it’s only then that he can smell the sweet, lingering aroma in the air. He wants to believe you’re just trying a new perfume and now it's made you sick, but it’s worse than that when the hand you’re holding moves to your chest. He can feel your rapid heartbeat, the way your body is in flames that can rival hellfire itself, the pained cry of his name as you try to pinch your legs together in the awkward embrace.

Frozen for a moment, Mammon completely blanks on what to do. He can feel your pain, the aching need in your entire body that makes you feel as if you’re going to combust into flames. He doesn’t know whether to touch you or not. But then you cry his name- sobbing it out in broken syllabus and you cry that it hurts and you think you might die and you're in his arms. Your hold on him tightens and he thinks he can leave you to be- let you wait out the excruciating pain in his room until the feeling fades and just thank him with attention or material objects later. He fails to consider that he is weak to you and when you look at him with teary eyes, he falters.

He stutters in his explanation, talking about how he can maybe go out and get you a toy or something- and he promises to be quick, he is the fastest after all. But then the thought lingers and he imagines your sex stretched with some toy that he chose, and his body jerks. Your vision is growing blurrier by the second and the hold on his hand tightens until your knuckles pale. You pull on him, thanking whatever God is watching down on you, that the door to the prized car he keeps in is open. Even he’s unable to know what is going on until you push him inside, crawling onto the back seat, calling his name and begging for him to join you.

In such a closed space, the Avatar of Greed is trying desperately to avoid touching you. He stays seated in the front seat, fingers drumming along the steering wheel. He cares for the car deeply- one of the few things that gives him freedom that is indescribable and yet, here you are. Your sex is leaking, your cries echoing across the closed space and what is music to his ears in his dreams is now a horrible reminder that you are seated behind him, victim to an aphrodisiac. He needs an excuse to touch you, needs to just feel you for a moment and when you threaten to stain the flawless leather seats with your slick, it’s enough for him to crawl to the back seat.

He never realized how crowded it was, how his elbows and knees tend to knock into things. He doesn’t notice how you’ve kicked your shorts off, how your underwear has become dark in color to your dripping sex. You kiss him, and Mammon is weak to you. His hands are on you, the scent overpowering and he promises to keep the touching to a minimum to only touch what you’ll let him touch and kiss where you want him to. But you’re huffing, grabbing onto him and trying to meet his crotch. The windows grow foggy, the car begins to creak but neither of you pay it any mind. It’s cramped and you’re too close but not close enough, you ache to be closer to him, to have him pressed against you until all you can remember is the way that his chest feels against your skin, the warmth of him, and the way his kisses are so tender and feverish all at once.

Leviathan:

Leviathan refuses to make eye contact with you. He won’t even address you. He sits on his desk chair, playing a game that doesn’t need half of the attention he usually gives. You rest inside his bathtub, curled over he presumes, whining and mumbling something that sounds like his name but he can't be so sure nor does he expect you to mumble his name in your current state. But as much as he wants to drown you out, he can’t. You’re too whiny, crying and begging for a solution, peeling your shirt off because it’s too hot. He reasons that’s because of the aphrodisiac because his room is always kept to a cool temperature. So now, he has you topless in his bathtub and the only proof is your shirt that was tossed where he sits and the reflection above, portraying a teasing, blurry image of your torso.

It’s possibly the worst situation for the poor, introverted demon. He finally has you all to himself and you’re in such a needy state and the plot is so close to a top tier hentai of his- Help! My Friend Took a Drug and Now They Won’t Stop Grinding on Me But I Also Don’t Want Them To Stop. But You came to him, you trusted that he would watch over you and whether it was because he kept his room so guarded or because you trust him, he really doesn’t know which. It’s just too muddled for him to believe that you would actively choose him. So, he does what he does best- he immerses himself in a game. The cutest game that he could think of- one that even if he grew and remained hard would make him feel more like a degenerate than he already does. He puts his headphones on and as if everything is trying to punish him, the loading screen takes forever.

The soundtrack plays loud, booming in his headset and effectively drowning you out. But he knows you’re still crying for him- that you're still in the same room with him. The perverted otuka glances up where he can see your reflection and he catches a glimpse of your hands cupping the swell of your chest and his face burns. Had you caught him peeking before? Was this a way for you to play with yourself without actively touching yourself? He can feel his growing arousal, translucent pre-ejaculate spilling past his slit and staining his boxers. It’s humiliating and he hates that the idea of you touching yourself in his room is more than enough for him to get in the mood.

He’s ignoring you- the only way that he can hopefully soften without actually creaming his pants. He avoids your reflection, ignores how your hands grip the curve of the tub until your knuckles pale, how you swing a leg over and it meets the hard layer of the bath, and for a moment, you still. He’s ignoring your decision to remove yourself from the place he rests and staggering to him. When he feels your hands on his thighs, he startles and the game minimizes into a small box. Unaware of what to do in this situation, he freezes, letting his body tense as you crawl onto his lap, your eyes heavy with lust and body feeling so warm above him that he’s unable to breathe.

His breathing is ragged, his hands stopping on the curve of your bum, as he’s unable to look anywhere else but your face. You’re flushed, gripping onto him, your tongue out as you pant and you’re so desperate for his attention that you lean close. His hands raise in an attempt to push you off but as if it were a cliché moment, his hands curve over your chest and you whimper his name at the simple touch. The third born should have been careful, he shouldn’t have let you grind against him and he surely shouldn’t have let himself becomes distracted by a kiss and yet, here he is, undressing himself as you greedily slide yourself onto his cock, your face scrunching up as every scale is pushed further into your aching hole. Leviathan is holding you close, the computer screen dimming as your can fill him spill inside of you.

Satan:

Eager to learn, he knows the effects of what an aphrodisiac can do to a being. So when you come knocking at Satan’s door, begging for refuge, leaning against him and gripping at his shirt, he pats your hand, and welcomes you inside. He allows you to rest on his bed, letting you bury yourself under his blankets. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea for either of you- you’re inhaling his scent during a time of desperate need, and soon when the effects wear off, he’ll be left in a bed that is drenched in your scent. That, however, is a problem for another day.

In order to keep his mind and hands busy, he’ll finally organize his room. He’s able to ignore your whining, the way that you shiver under the covers and bury yourself into his pillow, how you spread your legs so they are uncovered by the blanket; he ignores the sweet scent of your arousal that fills the room and his lungs. He holds his breath, taking few, deep breaths every now and then to avoid inhaling too much of you. You’re whining, talking through the pillow about how it hurts and you just need something- and doesn’t he have a spell he can use to just rid you of at least a tiny bit of it.

It’s the growing arousal of himself and your constant whining that edges him closer to annoyance. He holds books tight in his hand, orders them by author and published years, height and volumes, but it isn’t enough to drown you out. He regrets letting you enter his room but in the same second, he regrets having the thought. He’s happy that you came to him, trusted him enough to see you in a disheveled state. He doesn’t want to scare you off or make you feel unwanted, so he edges closer to you, tugging on the bottom of his shirt as if he were a nervous boy instead of a grown demon. The bed creaks under his weight and your hand latches onto his thigh. He jerks his leg, your hand only squeezing tighter and when he makes eye contact, your eyes are filled with tears, glistening and catching on your lashes like fresh dew.

You’re aroused, deeply and sweetly. It's a nervous thing to be attracted to someone like you, a demon that has been round and born with blood and wrath etched deep into soul and yet here he is, nervous to even touch your trembling hand. He knows the effects of something as strong as an aphrodisiac and for a demon made one, there is no real spell for it. He lets you lay on his lap, your mouth close to his sex, eyes lidded and holding tight to his hand. His control is fading, his growing need pushing past logical thought. He offers himself, and you rise quickly, already straddling his lap, your chest pressed against his, asking if it is okay. A cold shiver runs through his spine and he nods, offering that he’ll take care of you.

The trembling, nervous demon fades just as quick as it came when your lips are on his. You kiss him, need so transparent that he’s teasing, pulling away, letting your back meet the bed. His smile is sharp, leaning to kiss your pursed lips, grabbing your leg and pulling it upwards, mumbling praise under his breath when you hook your leg around his waist. Satan is heavy when above you, and maybe it’s the aphrodisiac that still lingers on your tongue, but he is unwilling to move away from you, kissing you and hooking his fingers in your mouth when you moan. You’re needy and he wants to hear you beg for him, calling his name. He cups your face with spit coated fingers, asking you to be good for him and mew for him.

Asmodeus:

As the Avatar of Lust, Asmodeus immediately knew something was off in the house when he felt lust in the air. It’s sweet. Intoxicating and bitter all at once. It’s like the sweetest honey known to mankind and he knows the feeling well enough to open his door before you have the thought to knock. He welcomes you into his room, letting you rest on the bed, a small part of him on the inside crinkling when you ruffle the sheets. But, of course, he knows this isn’t you- you would never be so careless. It’s all because of the aphrodisiac making your movements more frantic.

He knows the cure to end it- sex, plain and simple. Masturbation might help but he fears your hand will become sore. Always eager to have somebody in bed with him- out of his own sin and own need for company- he offers you two choices. You can borrow a toy- new, still in the box and all- or he could take care of you. Perhaps he shouldn’t have offered the second option, he knew how excited you were to simply enter a room with another living being but he couldn’t help himself. You look absolutely adorable with your flustered face.

A kiss from the living Avatar of Lust is better than any pleasure that you’ve ever received. And he knows it. You moan under him, your body shaking and eyes rolling to the back of your head, clawing at the shirt on his back. He smiles into the kiss. So eager to be taken care of that a simple kiss was enough to make you climax, your arousal dripping onto your underwear, so heavy in the air, that he pulls away as he feels your breaths start to shorten due to lack of air. But even as he pulls away, you still reach to pepper him with kisses, your breathing reggae against his face, gasping for breath with every parting kiss.

Your hands are on him, eager to pull him into another kiss. You want him and it’s evident from the way that you don’t push away when he removes his clothing. But, he stops for a moment, watching your gaze on him, wide and dazed and you stare at him as if he was something more than just a demon, you give him your worship and you pull him into another kiss. He stiffens, pulling away and asking if this is what you want, touching your bare skin only to flinch away as if it burned him. And when your lips are on him, your smile returns for a moment, telling him that you came to him because you knew he would tend to you in any way, and he melts.

His lips return to yours, kissing you eagerly, wanting nothing more than to just keep his lips on you. And as last time, you shudder beneath him, another orgasm washing through your body, your release spilling pass your slit. Limps entangle with each other and you cry the name Asmodeus, moaning it as if it were the only thing on your mind, sobbing under him and telling him how good it feels. You pet his head and let him bury his face into our chest, peppering kisses until he reaches your neck. His eyes close, an unexpected climax teases at him, as you pull him closer to your aching body. Every sigh from you in a gentle gust of wind, every cry a song that not even choir from the Celestial Realm can rival. He pushes deep inside of you, letting you feel every curve and texture from his cock as it molds your leaking hole into his shape.

Beelzebub:

Beelzebub feels incredibly guilty when you come to him, his shirt knotted in your hands as you explain what you ate. He blames himself, going to hold you only to flinch when you hiss and pull yourself closer to him. It’s an aphrodisiac, he should have known that you’ll be more sensitive to touch during this time. He apologizes as he leads you to his bed, shaking his head and holding your hand. He’s gluttony- he should have been able to smell the scent of an aphrodisiac.

Of course, he’ll let you hide in his room until the effects wear off. He won’t make a single peep but it’s difficult for him. His clothes are sticking to him, his body is in an odd sticky situation where sex clings to him clothes and skin. He knows the effects of the aphrodisiac but he feels guilty for giving it to you so when you cling to him, begging for him to not let go of you, he sighs and stays beside you. He’s stiff, unwilling to move and can only let out a shaky breath, when you press yourself closer to him, hooking a leg over his and curling it over. He can feel your sex- hot and pulsing and he leaves ripped bedsheets as his hand curls into the comforter.

He’s rubbing your back, letting his fingers drum against your spine as he hears your panted breaths. He knows he should stop, that he should at least go and take a shower so he can at least smell good but you hold a tight grip on him. You’re feverish, burning against him and he can tell you want more, your lips open up and kiss along the side of his ribcage but he can’t move.

It’s getting too much- even for him. He doesn’t want to take advantage of this needy state that you’re in but as he rises with a feeble explanation that he’s going to take a shower, you pull him down. He’s above you, your eyes watery and cheating rising and falling with heavy breaths. He can’t kiss you but you’re leaning closer, your lips brushing against his and he can smell the aphrodisiac that still rests like heaven on your tongue. You don’t blame him for the accident slip, you’re just begging for him to take care of you, letting your hand rest over the swell of his breast and he’s growing weaker by the second.

When your lips are on his, your tongue slipping past your lips, Beelzebub can taste the aphrodisiac and he’s melting. His tongue has made its home on your mouth, curving over your pink muscle and feeling the way you shudder beneath him. His name is muted by the kiss, your hands clawing at his clothing and he’s sweaty and aroused, watching you as you strip yourself of your clothes. The lovely pastry that still lingers isn’t enough for him to go into a full rut, but it’s enough for him to bend your legs to your chest, your hole pulsing as his cock aligns to it. The way that you call his name is enough for him to push himself fully into you.

Belphegor:

Belphegor is asleep under the covers, pillow tucked under his head and he does not awaken to your scent growing closer and closer, heavier and sweeter than usual. He doesn’t awaken when the doorknob wiggles, a frantic turning but he does awaken when you slam the door. He is startled awake, his eyes wide for a second before narrowing, teeth flashing as he lets out a low growl. He stops when he notices it's you, yawning and telling you to get into bed with him. It’s only until you’re beside him, greedily taking the invitation, that he realizes the state you’re in.

He has to prod you until you tell him what’s happened, watching as you bury your face into a pillow, whining out pathetically as you tell him what happened. He laughs, it’s sharp and teasing. Of course, you took an aphrodisiac by accident. It could only happen to you. He tries to be sympathetic with you. He knows you must be in a great deal of pain, but then again you came to him and that makes him stay awake for a bit longer, turning over on his side and watching you struggle to not touch yourself despite the aroma of your arousal that is thick in the room.

Sloth offers to put you under a deep sleep- he can’t promise that you’ll be still- but he can promise that you’ll wake up without the effects of the aphrodisiac. When you refuse, he merely shrugs, turning over with a pout. He’s disappointed but he can’t do much. He does tell you that he is tired, so he’ll be sleeping but you’re allowed to spend the rest of your heightened arousal in the attic with him. The power of an aphrodisiac- one made a devil no less- is strong, and giving it you in even worse. He can sense the neediness in you, the way you watch him with lustful eyes, your mouth parted the eagerness to get into bed with him.

As promised, he slips off into a sleep, leaving you alone. But your body is on his, legs parted with his single leg. He isn’t asleep long enough for him to be in an actual slumber before he feels the bed move ever so slightly. It’s constant and your whining, mumbling apologies and he opens his eyes to find you humping his leg. It’s pathetic and hot all at once, watching you get off on his leg alone, so desperate for release that you’ve succumbed to humping him. His smile is tight, turning over and letting his tail curl around you, the static in the air only causing you to arch your back when his demon form pops out. It pricks against your wrists, the fur unkempt as he rises above you.

You wanted his attention and now you’ve gotten it. You’ve woken him up from nap, it’s normal and expected for him to be grouchy but thank goodness that the smell from your leaking sex is more arousing that anything else he’s encountered. You’re on your knees on the mattress, his hips meeting yours and letting out a loud grunt when he finishes. He’s tired and over it but his cock still stands upright and you’re still needy and awake, your sex leaking with his arousal. Belphegor will lay on his back, offer himself in his sleep to you until you’re content. The last coherent thought he has is sighing at how warm and squishy you feel against him.

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cynettic · 3 years

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Hey! Can I request the "You wear their shirt that's too big for you the morning after a steamy night "but with childe, kaeya ,albedo and zhongli! Thank you

Reader x Genshin NSFW

Summary - You wear their oversized shirt after a steamy night.

Pairings - Fem!Reader x Childe / Zhongli / Kaeya

Warnings - NSFW so no minors plsss

A/N - Someone else asked for Albedo, so I’ll do that one soon! Hope you liked these ones though :) They’re a bit more descriptive than the last ones I did tho- so be careful if you’re not into that.

Childe

Often busy, the one instance where he has a bit of time before work passes by, and you walk out in his large shirt after a steamy night.

At this time in the morning, he’s sipping his morning coffee, eyeing the newspaper or whatever’s on the table.

That all changes when you walk in.

Of course he notices, and resting his elbow on the couch arm, he simply stares. Doesn’t attempt to hide his flirtatious smile and just waits till you notice his very persisting gaze.

When you turn to him, his eyes give you the sensation you might as well be bare naked.

“When did I ever say you could wear my shirt?”

He says this teasingly ofc, you wearing his shirt is the hottest thing he could’ve seen all day. Makes him very happy.

But you deciding to tease him right back, you pout, tugging at the hem of it. “You dont want me to wear it?” He tries to protest and say it was a joke and not to take it personal, but before he can even start, you pull the shirt off.

You have nothing under the shirt.

Nothing.

Flinging the shirt back into his lap, you turn back to the bedroom. “There you go, I’ll find something else to wear.” You make sure to strut, hips swaying from side to side as you touch the doorframe.

You don’t make it to the bedroom.

Childe’s hand glides down your pelvis, wrapping around your waist as the other pulls your hair back so he can give you a kiss on the neck. You’ve captured his full attention, and even though he has work soon, your antics stirred him up.

God… now all he wants to see is you ‘begging’ for him.

Childe has the awful tendency to turn almost everything into a competition, and you struck a nerve. He will waste no time in letting you know who is in control of who.

He pins your arms above your head, holding your wrists in one hand with ease. But holding you so tightly up, your back is arched, posture straight and breasts perked outwards with the awkward position.

“That was awfully bold of you Y/n~”

His other hand cups your breast, molding it in his hand. Index finger pressing down on your nipple while the rest of his hand rubs your tits in a down and up motion. You sink into the feeling, a content sigh leaving your lips as you lean into his touch.

Still sore from yesterday, Childe certainly wasnt gentle or merciful, and this contact is softly blissful compared to yesterday.

Till he pinches your little nipple in his hand, twisting it slowly and hearing you whine in annoyance.

Instead of moving onto the next breast, his hand moves down, gloves brushing against your stomach and your hips. Until its rested on your inner thighs, and he’s just caressing and stroking the skin of your thigh.

His black gloves are everything.

You unconsciously press your legs together, mewling at the sensation so close to your heat. You try to lean further into his hand so he can rub against your throbbing core, but his hand capturing your wrists keeps you firm, not letting you move an inch.

Childe moves teasingly slow.

His gloved finger rubs against your clit ever so softly, pressing deeper against it and then pulling away completely.

“C-Childe…”

“Hmm? Speak up Y/n.”

He adds a second finger, but continues only to rub your pussy. A torturous sensation that makes you buck your hips in desperation to feel his fingers sliding in.

“Childe… please.”

You speak louder this time, and he rubs harder.

“Please what? You’ve got to be more specific Y/n.”

He loves the way he has complete and utter control over you, your reactions, the noises and expressions you make. That even if you’d had the audacity to expose yourself and strut away, he still had control. That in this battle, he’d won.

“Stick your fingers into me,” you groaned out, louder than the previous sentence. “Please- please…”

His gloved finger poked at the tip of your needy hole, rubbing around the edge just until your eyes watered with frustration, and you tried to grind against the sensation. Again unable to with his hold on your wrists.

“P-please!”

It was only when you were begging that he shoved his finger in ruthlessly, pushing in and out. Your legs rubbed together, thighs pressing tightly around his hand as he added a second finger, and you were left gasping and moaning out his name.

When he added a third finger, your knees were trembling and it was only his grip on your wrists and the hand buried in your pussy that kept you standing. He leaned into your neck, his breath fanning your ear when he asked you who you belonged to.

“Y-you…” you breathlessly answered, coming close to your climax with every thrust of his gloved fingers. Pumping up into that G spot so hard that it left you crying out.

And then he pulled out his fingers, loosening the grip on your wrists.

“Good.”

Trembling and writhing just for him, he’d leave you bare and needy. Not letting you climax with him until he came back home from work.

Punishment for trying to tempt him earlier.

He licked your juices from his gloves, sucking on them and lapping them with his tongue. Just for you of course, laying on the ground whining and wet, so close to your climax yet stopped at the heat of the moment.

With a big wide grin, he waves his hand in a goodbye, grabbing his bag from the corner of the room before heading to the door. Fulfilled, watching you beg for him and shamelessly admit that you were his was the perfect start to his morning, and of course your revenge for teasing him earlier.

“See you after work Y/n~!” And with a wink he’s off.

Zhongli

For some reason, after a steamy night with Zhongli, the morning left you sensitive.

Not only physically, but especially mentally. To a point where getting up with the aching throb of your thighs was just enough to send you over the edge and sobbing.

You head to the kitchen, Zhongli’s shirt draped over your figure. He’s of course sitting in his rocking chair, reading glasses on as he scans something that he’s reading. Probably one of Liyue’s historical books.

You heat up some pancakes, planning on making the two of you a nice breakfast to start the day off. But grabbing the maple syrup, after opening the lid and stepping forward to spread it on the pancakes, your foot slid on something slippery on the floor, and you’re sent tumbling back.

Zhongli is leaning over you in seconds.

But the fall isnt the issue, and with the maple syrup in your hand, the bottle had tipped into the inside of Zhongli’s shirt, the one you were wearing, dripping into his shirt and onto your body. You’d managed to set it straight, but not after maple syrup was sent streaming down your chest and down your stomach.

“Im sorry…”

Tears gather at your eyes, and you try to wipe them away before Zhongli can see. Nothing was going right today, and you just wanted a distraction, something to keep your mind off of your emotional state.

“Itrs alright dear… would you like me to prepare a bath for you?” Zhongli is so soft and kind as he offers his help, thumb stroking your cheek as he stares into your eyes.

You dont want a bath.

Even with maple syrup everywhere on your body, sticky, you don’t want to leave the floor. A sob breaks past your lips, and you shake your head. “No… I just want it to go away…” your hands are shaking, and you slowly remove Zhongli’s shirt from your body, the maple syrup clinging to your form.

His eyes trail over the gooey mess you seem to be in, and he takes his shirt back, unsure of what to do. As the geo archon, theres not much he can do about the maple syrup, and his insides twist when hearing you sob.

He presses a kiss to your forehead and slowly trails it to your lips, satisfied when it seems to calm you down. You push him closer, until his head is on the same level of your chest, and the maple syrup dripping down your breasts.

Without thinking, he goes to lick it, the sweet taste of maple syrup in his mouth.

He backs away instantly, afraid that the action only saddened you further. But it was the opposite, and you stared at him wide eyed, tears threatening to spill. With a sniff, you wiped the tears away again, “That… didnt feel bad.” Was all you said.

Zhongli wasnt sure what to make of it, and leaning closer, he only licked the sticky liquid off your cleavage again, listening to the intake of breathing. When he glanced up, you were staring straight at him.

“It felt… nice.”

You were no longer crying, which meant that to Zhongli, he’d done something right. He didnt stop licking there, and dedicating his tongue to wiping every spot of maple syrup on your body, the two of you stayed draped there for a while.

His mouth completely engulfed your breast, tongue swirling around the lengh of it as he sucked in the sticky liquid. Your breathing grew erratic, but every time he’d look up to ask you if you were alright, you’d simply say that it was fine.

Zhongli began to realize that you were really turned on by the time he reached your core, and the maple syrup wasnt the only liquid drenched there. He didnt waste any time in pressing his head into your thighs, knowing from experience that you liked it. And that instead of pain, his tongue gave you pleasure.

So thats what he did, sucking, nipping, and licking every part of your cunt until you were shaking, and your inner thighs were tight against his head.

He would’ve pulled back, but no matter how much he licked your pussy, the sweet taste still coated his tongue everytime, meaning that there was still some maple syrup. It was until his tongue dug into your needy hole that he realized where the sweet taste was coming from.

It only motivated him to get rid of it.

He’d seen your tears, seen how shamed and embarrassed you were to have the sticky liquid all over you. He knew he couldnt get rid of it with his tongue, but if it made you feel better enough to take a bath after, it was worth it.

His hands grabbed the balls of your ass, slowly massaging them against his fingers before using them to thrust his tongue deeper into your wet cunt. Pushing your ass and hips with his large hands and thrusting them towards his head in rhythm with the lapping of his tongue sent you on overdrive.

Your legs were shaking, and instead of gasps, little mewls of pleasure sputtered out of your mouth. Hands tangled in his hair, you felt your eyes roll to the back of your head.

It felt like orgasm after orgasm, Zhongli still pressing his face against your pussy and licking every sweet spot. But there was always more, and you were going numb by the time he pulled away, your body sore and writhing after the intense feeling of pleasure.

“Theres too much,” Zhongli said softly, wiping the sides of his mouth as he stared at your fatigued face. “I could keep going if you’d like-? “

Your mood instantly boosted up, and with a chuckle at the poor archons innocent stare, you shrugged. “A-alright, a little bit more I guess…” Even as your core felt numb and your thighs still shook at how tightly you’d been clenching them around Zhongli’s head, the sensation was too good.

With a small smirk, Zhongli dug back down, hands groping your ass again as he sunk into the sensation of your pussy.

Kaeya

You woke up horny.

By the time you walked out of the bedroom with Kaeya’s shirt on, your intentions were very clear. Your boyfriend was sitting on the couch, reading over something that looked like a report for work. You didnt give him the time to think as you plopped down on his lap.

Directly facing him, he seemed surprised as you wore his shirt, sliding in closer to him inch by inch until you could feel the firmness of his dick against you. It was then that he chuckled, realizing what you were getting at.

“Oh? My my Y/n, so daring~”

He only leaned back, setting the report down and putting his hands against the couch to sit back and watch you.

“Now now, dont feel deterred, I want to see you take charge for a change.”

And so you tried.

Grinding your core against his throbbing member, he winced, the ever so calm smirk never leaving his face. So he simply watched, watched as you slowly took his shirt off your body, revealing the form he loved so much. It took all his control not to take you by the arm and carry you to the bed, a second round after last night.

But watching you struggle was oh so much better.

You fumbled with his jean buttons, hands trembling as you slowly slid them down his legs to reveal his giant member. You always had trouble fitting him in, but he always took control and made sure you were ready for him before he thrust into you.

Sliding down his boxers, you gulped, thighs trembling as you positioned his dick above your pussy.

Kaeya only chuckled as you slowly sank down into him, only taking in the tip of him before you whimpered. Your hands came to clench around the buttons of his vest, breaths coming ragged as you tried your best to lower deeper into him.

“Having trouble?”

You wanted to wipe that arrogant look off his face, fill him with pleasure and send him into the same ecstasy youd felt last night. So that he couldnt tease you about it, so that he could look at you evenly and admit that you were just as good as it as he was.

But god he was too big…

You could barely lower yourself any deeper, only reaching quarter way before the your legs shook and your inner thighs squeezed with need. But he was too much, and every little movement sent you into a fit of squeaks and whimpers.

Kaeya’s hands groped your ass, and with a sigh he slowly began to tug you further down. Slow, achingly painfully slow. You grabbed at his wrists, begging him to stop.

“Kaeya… it hurts…” you nearly sobbed, tears threatening to spilled onto your cheeks.

“Alright, I’ll leave it up to you then.”

He removed his hands, but you were now halfway through and pulling out would be just as excruciating as fully embracing him. You were stuck, thighs shaking so badly you had no option but to sink lower, legs threatening to give out on you from the sheer effort.

You mewed and whined when you couldnt stop the slow motion of your cunt taking in Kaeya’s dick. And no matter how you tried to resist and keep your thighs from taking any more of him, they always collapsed and you were back to slowly leaning deeper into him.

Finally, when you’d sank to the bottom and had fully engulfed his dick, your face was tear stained, sniffles escaping your lips. But Kaeya didnt move, staying still and refusing to help you. It took everything you had to slide up his length and collapse back on him.

Up and down, up and down, the process was torturous but you could feel the pleasure building up in your chest everytime you took him in. Even Kaeya started to enjoy it as your pace quickened, your breasts bouncing up everytime you fell down back into him.

“Kaeya…” you whimpered through lidded lashes as your hands gripped his chest. “K-Kaeya…”

He came at the same time you did, and you were left sitting on his cock more tired than before. Inner thighs trembling, your walls clenched around him. Holding back a moan, you tried to lift yourself off of him, finding yourself unable to do so.

“K-Kaeya…”

With a chuckle, he finally leaned forward. His hands gripped the soft flesh of your hips, and rubbing the swollen bruises of your inner thighs, he lifted you up, only to send you back down into him.

“My turn Y/n~”

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