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luvvyouforever · 28 days

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harvey (sdv) - nsfw alphabet <3

-> there is not nearly enough harvey content on tumblr for my liking. SO two harvey posts in a row, yes i do believe. and i do love reading an sfw/nsfw alphabet so of course i have to provide for our favorite nerdy doctor <3 i also want you to know that as i write this, i imagine harvey as a taller, bigger man. so like he's got some chub on him and he's got broad shoulders. idk idk it's my headcanon.

-> this is nsfw and dirty! like i really tried to get over my reservations about using descriptive language. with that being said, NSFW 18+ MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

harvey is the sweetest, most gentlemanly partner after sex. he makes sure that you get cleaned up, that you protect yourself against any UTIs or other gross things, makes you some coffee or tea, and cuddles with you endlessly. harvey would need some extra reassurance that what he did was good, that you enjoyed it, or that you didn't get hurt. he'd get anxious and worry about it for the rest of the night if you didn't offer him some kind of honest discussion.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

i think he appreciates his arms and hands! he knows that he has some strength and likes when you can grip on to his biceps in the heat of the moment. knows how to work his hands i mean, come on. he can do minor surgical interventions. if you hold onto his arm while you're walking in town, he'd get all blushy.

as for you, he truthfully loves every part of you. if you ever asked him "what part of me is your favorite?" he would actually stress over it and couldn't answer. however, if you really really wanted him to say, he would choose your eyes. there's nothing better to him than looking at them when he's giving you pleasure. sends him reeling, actually.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

i don't think harvey is particularly keen on making a mess, especially of the bed or another surface. he'd try to keep his cum inside of you, or at least contained to an easily wipeable surface (like your face). on the down low though, i truthfully think he'd surprisingly enjoy cumming on your face, mainly around your lips. messy oral? he's done for.

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

meeting dr. harvey in his office for a confidential check-up? hmm. definitely not when you first start dating, but give him some time and you may just find yourself on his desk (never in the actual, sterile field) receiving a little extra attention wink wink nudge nudge

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he has plenty of knowledge about anatomy, trust me. he never struggles with finding your best spots. however, he struggles with foreplay and building intimacy and dirty talk, etc. he's a nerd! what can i say? tell him what you like, guide him, and help him and he'd be confident in no time. he's a quick learner.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

so, i think there are two sides to harvey. he is either incredible slow, passionate, and earnest. this lends itself to something simple like missionary where he can stare into your eyes, kiss you, tell you sweet things, etc. his other side comes out later, when he's gotten more comfortable with you and with himself, and he can get a little rougher or faster or intense. he likes to be able to grip on to you so something like doggy, maybe riding?

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

harvey can't help but be clumsy sometimes. he learns to be able to giggle at himself when his hand misses the bed and he falls. he also can't help but giggle when hair gets caught in your mouth or some other silly thing. however, he likes to keep things intimate and prefers to have a serious moment with you in bed.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i don't think he fully shaves, he just doesn't strike me as that kinda guy with his mustache. but i do think he trims it, kinda manscapes it a little bit to tame everything down but he likes to have a little hair down there.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

loves making sex romantic. he doesn't do it often, but on special days like your anniversary or birthday, he will harvest some flowers from the farm and throw the petals around the room, open up some freshly made wine, and showers you in affection. as for every day sex, he still likes to make it special for you and never backs down on his pure, teeth-hurting sweetness.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

i think that he is the kinda guy that starts feeling guilty for masturbating after he gets into a relationship. prefers to just wait for you. however, before your relationship, he would masturbate every once in a while when he was stressed or horny. if he ever watched porn, which i feel like would be very rare for him, he wouldn't watch highly produced, fake porn. it would have to be something amateur. (harvey has a secret twitter account)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

okay so...i think harvey starts out vanilla. when you're getting to know him and for the first few times you have sex, he keeps it simple. mainly out of nervousness. however, i think he's kinkier than we might assume. i think he really enjoys being praised and praising you. i think, too, he likes feeling big and strong in that he gives in to his possessiveness sometimes, and he likes being able to manhandle you a little bit. also, i propose this everyone....bondage? nothing super strong! just with his tie or belt. and your hands. to the headboard.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

your bedroom, mostly! he has a reputation that he needs to uphold so anything in public is nerve wracking. but with some convincing, like i said, his fancy office is not totally off limits.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

seeing you do anything! especially if you're really determined to get something done and you're working hard at it! like, you've been working so damn hard on renovating and cleaning the farm and you come back proud of everything you've done, he will look at you with a glow in his face. kisses on the neck, too!

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

i don't think he'd ever hurt you. it's just not something he could ever see himself doing. he doesn't mind seeing like fingertip marks on you the day after but anything like choking, spanking, etc is out of the question. he also would find rudeness a turn off in a person. like he would hate to see anyone be rude to another person and it would take away from someone's attractiveness immediately! (that's not to say that he doesn't enjoy some town gossip here and there)

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

my first headcanon here is that harvey LOVES giving oral and on the days when he hasn't cleanly shaved his face, his stubble leaves marks around your thighs. okay, now that that's out of the way: harvey is such a pleaser and he'd do anything to make sure you feel good. he likes when you guide his head, mouth, or hands and he likes being told if you want more, or faster, or less. as for him receiving, i think he enjoys it but he gets so in his head that he can't really cum from it. it takes some extra praise and reassurance to get him to fully open up.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

like every other answer here, it depends on his mood! he can get really fast when he's feeling extra needy or kinky. however, when he's trying to be romantic, he will take his sweet time and go nice and slow with his thrusts, movements, touches. however, i think he could also use slowness to his advantage and tease you.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

prefers to take his time but sometimes he likes to catch you before you wake up and start working on the farm and before he has to go to work. he enjoys these more than he will admit to himself though and he thinks it can be fun!!

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he's down to try new things, don't get me wrong! if you wanna try something new, he'll let you to an extent but he won't do anything that comes with a dangerous outcome or health risk! like, sure, he might be down to try some new rope positions but he won't dare put chocolate sauce around his genitals. do you know the bacteria risks that can come with that??

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

i don't think he has very high stamina. it's not that he gets really sleepy after, but he can't go for multiple rounds. maybe two if it's been a long time since he's seen you. he can last a while though, i think. he won't cum the minute he engages in anything and with his anxiety, it may even take him a while to get to that point.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he doesn't mind bringing out a vibrator because he knows how good it could make you feel. he doesn't like them on himself though! he doesn't mind taking a trip out to zuzu and hitting up a sex shop to buy some new bondage-y toys. they will be thoroughly cleaned though. why would nipple clamps be any less clean than forceps?

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

he doesn't do it with malice in his heart, trust me. he just likes seeing you on edge, waiting for him of all people, begging for more pleasure. he experiments to see how long you can go for, or how far he can drag out oral. he definitely enjoys it more than he'd let on. oh, and, i leave you with this, imagine harvey offering fake pity and cooing at you:

"my poor flower...you must want it so bad!"

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

keeps quiet, mostly. some interjections of grunts and groans, especially when he cums. he uses his voice more for sweet talk! he loves hearing your noises, though, and it gives him more encouragement than anything.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

the first time you called him dr. harvey in a joking, yet somewhat flirtatious manner, he blushed and got incredibly flustered. then, you did it again, and it had the same effect. and then...oh lord. your hands were roaming his body and you, just testing the waters, called him dr. harvey and he could have finished right there.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he's big guys, i'm sorry. nerdy white men are always packing. i headcanon him as a big boy and it's only fitting that he's proportionate. more thickness than length. he was a little ashamed the first time you had sex but he realized just how good it feels and it makes him proud. big dick energy if you will.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

i think he has a fluctuating sex drive. during flu and cold season, he is so stressed and likes to come back and make dinner, cuddle, and go to bed. however, during the summer, when everyone is healthy and only needs some aloe vera gel for sunburns, he could go day after day with you. it just all depends on his mood and the time of the year.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he enjoys cuddling and talking after sex but give him an hour and the man is CONKED. he's the older bachelor so of course he's a sleepy man. cuddle up to his chest, open up the window to let fresh air or the sounds of rain float in, and he'll be like a baby.

#fanfic #fluff #harvey x reader #harvey stardew valley #harvey one shot #harvey #milh (man i love harvey)#alphabet #headcanon #harvey headcanon #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley #stardew valley headcanon

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ateliersss · 4 months

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He Shan‘t Lose

Pairing: Yautja x F!Reader Summary: Mere two months ago, you returned home after the incident on Earth. Now you were back, ready to indulge yourself and go on the weekly "date night" with your mate. If only your unborn pup had better timing… Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 6,716 Part 1: here Part 2: here

⇨ Oh, I missed my Mi‘ytiar.

⇨ I can't believe I finally got this done and I'm able to present this to you. Also, my birthday, guys! God, I'm 20 and I already feel old. Please spoil me with comments, re-blogs and likes.

“Toyou, go! Go! Good boy.” You laughed as you watched your four-legged companion chase after the trail he had scented.

Hell Hounds, they were called, and probably the closest thing to a pet you could get on Yautja Prime. You learned quickly, after your first encounter with them, that they were similar to the hounds on Earth, and like hounds on Earth, they had one purpose — hunting prey.

Unlike a curious Beagle, a devoted Pointer or a stubborn Basset Hound, Hell Hounds were more similar to Yautjas than dogs, both in looks and characteristics. But you still could recognize some traits that reminded you of your childhood dog.

You didn’t hunt with Hell Hounds often — it was more special and intimate when it was just you and Mi‘ytiar — but your mate had insisted that at least one of them should accompany you. As experience showed, the two of you had to split up at times; sometimes he also kept in the shadows, high on top of a tree, to watch you hunt on your own. It was simply a safety measure.

It wasn’t like you couldn’t handle the prey on your own. The creatures you hunted were either as small as a cat or as big as a horse. They were insignificant opponents, laughable for a Yautja and not nearly on their hunting standard, but Mi‘ytiar felt different. He didn‘t care how tiny or weak the prey was compared to him.

It wasn't about him, after all.

Those hunts were solely for you, so you could be a part of his culture without him having to worry about endangering your life.

He had been ecstatic when you voiced your wish years ago for him to teach you how to hunt, how to track and kill as it was custom on his home planet. And even now, after you had exceeded his expectations, he still was immensely proud of you every time you succeeded.

No, Toyou wasn’t only there for tracking or for flushing out his targets, but also for guarding. You were in the final stages of your pregnancy, and your strength, your speed and your stamina had decreased, leaving you more vulnerable should prey ambush you.

Speaking of Toyou, he had been gone for quite some time.

“Toyou?” You called, whistled, and waited for a moment for him to return to you.

When you neither could hear him bark or see him running towards you, you tried calling him again, “Toyou?”

And again.

“To–”

The other half of his name turned into a strained whimper as a stabbing pain pierced through your body, coming from your stomach. You stifled a scream, but when something wet suddenly ran down your legs, a shaky breath escaped your lips.

You knew what this meant.

Your water just broke.

“Oh no. Not now, my sweetling.”

Clutching your stomach, breathing in and out, you slowly approached a tree and practically slumped against it. One of your hands gripped the meaty texture of the tree trunk for support, the other snaked down and between your thighs. When you pulled your hand back, it was coated with the clear substance of the amniotic fluid.

And blood. There was also blood on your fingers, but it was nothing too alarming. When you had been pregnant with Akail, there had been blood too, but it was still an unsettling sight to you.

“Ahhh!” You cried out as another wave of agonizing pain washed through you, your head thrown back.

As much as you had enjoyed the mostly perfect pregnancy, you had completely forgotten about birthing the pup at the end. Maybe you had just pushed the whole thing aside, since the mere memory of Akail‘s birth was still able to install that deep-rooted dread within your body.

You went into labor when both moons were at their zenith.

Mi’ytiar, who had slept peacefully next to you, was hovering over you the second you tried to wake him up.

It took one panicked look from you and he knew what was going on.

He got up from his lying position on your nest and knelt beside you.

You had already pushed the furs you used as a blanket to the side and he saw your legs shining with moisture in the moonlight.

“My water broke.” You faintly answered his silent question. “Our little one is coming.”

Mi’ytiar was on high alert as he knew what that meant.

He tried to lift you into his arms, his mind fully set on bringing you to Cahrein, the healer, but unfortunately a contraction hit you right at that moment. The pain plus the one you felt as Mi’ytiar lifted you up ripped a heart-wrenching scream from your throat.

It hurt so very much that you punched him out of instinct, an instinct telling you to do anything to stop the pain, hitting him right in the face.

You looked up at him with wide eyes. “Oh God, Mi‘ytiar. I’m so sorry.”

His heart clenched at that.

You shouldn’t apologize. He’d barely felt the impact anyways, your human strength too weak to actually hurt him, but he didn’t deserve to not feel anything.

He should have felt pain, should have been knocked from his feet.

He had hurt you, had caused you more pain than you were already feeling.

You noticed the guilty expression on your mate’s face and grabbed his hand. “It’s okay, tahní. It‘s o–”

You cut yourself off as you pressed your lips together while another contraction hit you.

“–kay. It’s okay.” You panted, “Just get Cahrein.”

Mi’ytiar shook his head determinedly as he placed his free hand on yours, which clasped his other hand in a death grip.

“Cannot leave you.” He growled.

Another contraction made you cry out, “Mi’ytiar, please!”

It took a lot of persuasion for him to finally leave your side to get the healer.

You understood that he didn‘t want to leave you on your own, out of fear something bad would happen to you if he let you out of his sight only for a second, but you needed Cahrein to deliver your son safely.

The healer had gotten to work as soon as his eyes met your tiny, withering body. Putting aside the various instruments he had taken with him — you recognized them from one of your visits where he had shown you which ones he used for births — he helped you to remove the panties that you wore with the little piece of clothing you called nightie, which you had already pulled up, over your bulging stomach, and out of the way.

Usually, you and your mate slept naked with nothing shielding you from each other’s skin, but since you got closer and closer to due-day you wanted to be prepared. You wanted to keep at least a little of your dignity, not wanting to lie completely bare in front of Cahrein.

Even though you knew he wouldn‘t care, taking his job far too seriously for that, your body in all its naked glory was meant for Mi’ytiar‘s eyes and Mi’ytiar‘s eyes only.

With your mate on one side and the healer on the other, you spent hours in indescribable agony.

Mentally, you were so far gone, blacking out for a second here and there. You barely caught how Mi’ytiar was insistently talking to you, or how Cahrein alternately injected you with a transparent and a bright green fluid.

It felt like a miracle when the unbearable pain decreased bit by bit, but not fully disappeared. Your fuzzy mind and your blurry view started to clear.

With the pain now more bearable, you could finally focus on the natural instinct that told you to push.

What you didn’t know was that the following screams and cries woke up the clan in alarm, gathering almost everyone in front of your home, eagerly awaiting the new addition.

This occasion was special, after all. Their fierce and mighty leader was expecting his first pup, something no one had expected to happen. Ever.

The tense uncertainty inside and outside of your home dissipated as soon as the whiny squeals of your newborn pup finally filled the air.

“Such a bad timing, my sweetling.” You mewled.

Tears were gathering in your eyes and you quickly blinked them away. You didn’t know if it was because of the pain of the contractions, which were now four minutes apart, or out of fear of being all alone in a hostile environment.

With your tongue between your teeth, you waited until the pain subsided, fully intending to call for your mate, but when you did, his name only escaped your lips in a short-winded whisper.

It was like you couldn’t breathe.

Biting back a sob, you formed your hand into a fist and hit your chest repeatedly, trying to get yourself to breathe regularly again. And when you thought you had enough air in your lungs, you bellowed, “Mi’ytiar!”

Your breath hitched and tears finally streamed down your cheeks. You bend your upper body forward and towards the tree, and pressed the palms of your hands against the tree trunk. With your head facing the ground, tears left your eyes, rolled down the bridge of your nose before dripping down the tip to the forest floor.

You were crying and panting, your body clenching every time another contraction hit you.

“Mi’ytiar, please, please… I need you… please, please.” You begged, your voice barely audible.

Contentment.

That’s all you could feel as you adjusted your lying position on the soft fur and the woolen and cotton fabrics of your nest. It was living up to its name as it reminded you of an actual nest, a bird’s nest; just as round but with more comfortable materials. Mi’ytiar had been very picky, something that amused you to no end.

That and the fireplace embedded into the floor, enclosing the round platform the nest was on, kept you warm and cozy.

You and the pup that was sleeping on your chest.

Little Akail let out little purrs while he enjoyed the warmth of his mother’s body that kept him tranquil and happy.

Only ten hours old and he already had such a significant place in this clan and his parent’s hearts.

You hummed quietly to your pup, only looking up from the endearing sight when Mi’ytiar entered your home and came to a halt in front of your nest, taking in the very welcome view of his (tantalizing naked) mate and his newborn son.

“Don’t get any ideas.” You warned him playfully when you noticed his heated gaze racking over your body.

“Back on Earth, some parents hold their babies like this. The skin and warmth forges a strong bond between them and the baby can get used to its parents’ touch.” You explained, your fingers slowly caressing Akail‘s back.

Mi’ytiar only clicked his mandibles in acknowledgment before he started to take off his armor and his traditional clothing as clan leader.

You had to bite your lower lip, reminding yourself of your own scolding words only seconds ago, but you simply couldn’t help yourself. Your mate was a fine specimen, a strong and gorgeous Yautja. You were one hell of a lucky woman.

You watched him get on the nest, now only dressed in his loin cloth, and he moved on his knees towards you.

You wrapped an arm around Akail — still curled up into a ball with his head tucked under your chin and his feet resting on your belly — and got up into a sitting position.

Mi’ytiar grabbed you by your thigh and hip, lifted you up and pulled you to him so you were sitting on his thighs while your legs were wrapped around the width of his hips.

He lopped his arms around you, drawing you into an embrace, so little Akail was now nestled between both of his parents’ warm bodies.

The smile that had grown on your lips since the moment Mi’ytiar had entered your home was now so bright and wide your cheeks started to hurt.

But you didn’t really care. You couldn‘t hide the sheer happiness you were feeling right now at this moment.

You felt movement against your throat and above the valley of your breasts, and when you looked down as best as you could manage, you saw Akail nuzzle his face into your skin while his tiny hand was now lying on your chest where your heart was beating.

You wanted to cry happy tears.

You had never expected to become a mother, never planned on it, never even remotely wanted it if you were being honest, but having your baby now in your arms made every antipathy disappear.

You placed a soft kiss on Akail‘s head, using as little pressure as possible so he wouldn’t wake up.

“He’s perfect.” You whispered and looked up at Mi’ytiar who was already watching you intently. “Are you happy?”

He cocked his head to the side, his chest vibrating when he confirmed, “Happy.”

He felt Akail‘s small body against his own, felt his tiny body press against his every time he was breathing.

Breathing.

A beating heart.

Alive.

He loosened the embrace of one of his arms around your body to reach between the two of you and for his son, his fingers tracing from Akail‘s forehead to the back of his head — there, he had the same scale pattern as his father, only with reversed colors — and from his temple over the hints of dreads on each side of his little head with his thumb.

Akail was indeed perfect, just like his mother, and he loved him with all his heart already, but the price he almost had to pay for having him here…

“I thought I would lose you today.” He admitted, breaking the comfortable silence between you.

You lifted your head from where it had been resting on his chest to look up at him with a small smile.

“For a second, I thought I would never see you again. I thought I would never meet our son." You nodded, thinking about the sharp pain and the feeling of life leaving your body as your pup fought his way out of you. “But Cahrein had prepared me as well as he was able to. He helped me through it. Who knows, hadn’t he injected me with your blood…”

You trailed off when Akail began to stir. You quickly started to rock him up and down, luring him back to sleep.

“He’s a very gifted male. I’ve trusted him with my life since the first time we visited him together after my arrival here so many moons ago.”

You adjusted your arm and its hold on Akail, the other reached up and cupped Mi’ytiar’s cheek. You let your fingertips glide over the scaly texture of his skin and dragged them over his jaw to his chin, down his throat to the middle of his chest.

“He also told me that I would be able to give you another pup in a foreseeable future…”

Mi’ytiar frowned, asking skeptically, “After what you gone through today?”

You shrugged and leaned your head forward, your cheek pressed against his pec. “I’m not talking about now or tomorrow, my love, but someday. In a few years, maybe.”

Mi’ytiar bristled, a loud rumble shaking his torso. “No.”

“No?”

“No.” He shook his head, a very human gesture in your eyes. “You almost died.”

You smiled into his skin. Protective through and through, even when it came to his own offspring.

You were incredibly lucky to be chosen by a Yautja like him.

It was rare for them to be interested in a human. It was rarer for them to treat that human like an equal instead of a slave or one of many lovers. It was the rarest for a human to be injected with Yautja blood to largely adapt to their DNA and enable life on their planet.

And Mi’ytiar told you himself — you were the only human ever being Life-Mated to a Yautja who carried his offspring and had a similar leading role as him as the mate of a leader; all in one.

You were the rarest of the rarest, a uniqueness, something completely new.

But humans had birthed Yautja-Human-hybrids long before you, most of them more than one or two.

“The next time will be different, Mi’ytiar. My body will be stronger and mentally I will be more prepared.” You told him and peppered his chest with feather-light kisses before you looked up at him again, a loving smile on your lips. “You shan’t lose me.”

You whimpered in relief when you finally heard the familiar growling bark of a Hell Hound.

“Toyou!” You called, “I’m… here!”

You felt something move under you and fill the free space between your bend-over position against the tree. You opened your eyes, which you had closed to calm yourself and your breath, and looked down to see the Hound’s face already fixed on yours.

“N‘yaka-de. Get him.” You panted and watched as Toyou turned around to run.

When he suddenly stopped to walk hesitantly back to you, not liking the fact he was about to leave you behind who was obviously in distress, you stomped with your foot and yelled, “Toyou, fucking now!”

He darted off and you felt a tinge of guilt for lashing out. After all, he was loyal and a surprisingly good cuddle partner.

“Argh!” You cried out when another stabbing sensation almost made your legs give out.

Once again it felt like you were being torn apart, but at least you didn‘t feel like you were closer to death than life like at Akail‘s birth over 30 years ago. You were kind of proud of yourself, actually, considering you were still able to stand.

Yeah, standing against a tree for support instead of lying in your warm and soft nest where you had actually planned to deliver your second pup. You didn‘t want to give birth in an unsafe environment, with no Mi’ytiar and no Cahrein.

But who would have expected that your pup was ready to be welcomed into the world on a hunt?

You did.

You had felt premature labor pains for two days now, but you hadn’t paid them any mind as Akail was born only six days after those pains had started.

But even those pains had felt different in those two days, so why hadn‘t you just listened to your body when it undoubtedly told you “No!” while you answered Mi’ytiar‘s question “Hunt?” with an enthusiastic “Yes!” ?

You knew the answer to that, too.

While women on Earth had to stop certain activities at one point in their pregnancy and were limited in their doings, Yautja females could still follow their everyday lives throughout their whole pregnancy. Meaning, they could still jump from one obstacle to another, chase their prey and kill it.

Thinking that you were able to do that too had been utterly stupid and arrogant, but you just didn’t want to seem weak. Yes, the clan had accepted you and saw you as one of them, as the mate of their leader, but you couldn’t stop the suffocating need to prove yourself again and again.

It was unnecessary. Mi’ytiar had told you that, Cahrein had told you that, the Females you liked to spend your time with and considered friends told you that and, hell, even a few Males that were close to your mate told you that.

But here you were, crying and groaning, when another contraction cursed through your body. You regretted leaving your cozy home, regretted not being pampered by your loving mate in your nest, and regretted leaving your son behind, who had been by your side all the time, hovered over you in case he had to step in should you need anything in your state, followed you around like a lost puppy if you weren’t napping in your nest.

It reminded you of the time when he had been much younger and much smaller. He had been practically attached to your hip and everywhere you went, he was there. He had been such an adorable and shy little boy. Who were you kidding? He still was, but you missed those times anyway. He had grown up too fast.

You were nervous.

With your arms wrapped tightly around your body, you watched the hustle and bustle in the distance. They were preparing for the departure of the five Young Bloods who would soon leave for a faraway world to hunt and complete their initiation into Adulthood.

Among them was your son, your Akail, who would leave you for who knows how long to presumably search for the largest and most dangerous beast and kill it to prove himself.

Just like his father, you thought.

In the first year of your relationship, Mi'ytiar had told you everything imaginable about himself, and one evening about his own initiation ritual. He had told you how reckless and sure of himself he had been as a Young Blood, how he threw himself into danger to impress his clan.

Although that had secured his position as leader, he’d summoned his son the day before to admonish him to proceed with caution, to be logical and strategic, and to not let arrogance control him.

Lost in worried thoughts, you didn't notice as Mi'ytiar approached you, dropped to one knee and pulled you to his torso with his strong arms. He nuzzled his face into your hair, his mandibles running through it.

He loved your hair. It was just as soft as the rest of you.

“What on your mind, yawne?” He asked.

“I’m scared.” You breathed.

“On your home planet, oomans worry too when child leaves?”

You put your hand on one of his arms that was wrapped around you. “They do, but not like this. On Earth, human children leave the safety of their homes every day to go to school, to learn, and then they will return. In a few hours Akail will leave the safety of his home to finish school, so to say, but will he return?” You told him absentmindedly, your attention still fixed on the ship. “Human parents don't have to fear that particular day when their children go on a journey to possibly get killed just because of a custom.”

You felt his arms tighten around you. “Do not be scared.” He said.

“I can’t help it. I’m his mother.”

Mi'ytiar let out a chuckle that sounded more like a growl than an actual laugh.

“And I his father.” He said and turned you around, not loosening the close embrace. “I trained him well. Made him strong and made him smart. Doubting my skills, yawne?”

Although he had already lowered himself, reducing his height to be closer to you, you still had to raise your head to look at him.

God, you loved his eyes. Even though there were rare variations at times among their kind — sometimes a lighter shade, sometimes a darker shade, sometimes more orange than yellow — the eyes of all Yautja had the same color.

But to you, Mi'ytiar’s eyes were different, even though one couldn’t possibly spot a difference when he was standing next to other Yautja. To you, they were brighter, more intense, more expressive. Or maybe it was just the way he looked at you, with so much gentle affection and love you wouldn't credit a beast of his stature with.

“Of course I’m not. I could never.”

You suddenly could feel large arms engulfing your body from behind, pulling you into an upright-standing position, and you just let yourself instinctively fall into their embrace.

You knew those limbs, knew their warmth and their strength.

“Mi’ytiar, the pup… the pup is coming.” You panted and dug your fingernails into his forearm.

You felt him move behind you. He lifted you up, his arms supporting your back and the back of your knees as he held you to his torso. He briefly registered how you quickly wrapped your arms around his neck before he took off.

He ran like he never did. At the same time, he was careful not to let your body jolt around too much as he jumped over fallen tree trunks and climbed rocks to reach the Scout Ship while you clung to him.

Every time a contraction hit, he could feel your body tense in his arms and your mouth press against his chest as you muffled another scream.

Oh, how he wished he could take away the pain, but at least it wasn’t as horrible as it was at Akail’s birth.

Mi’ytiar remembered your glistening tears and your little withering body, how you had squeezed his hand so hard that even he had felt pain and how you had begged both him and Cahrein to stop it. Especially the fear of death in your eyes haunted him to this day.

He had almost lost you — you, his precious human — all those years ago and it had been his entire fault.

The possibility of becoming a father had been zero, non-existent, and at one point in his life, he had accepted the fact that he may be not meant to be a father. He stopped caring and someday just forgot about it entirely. The wish to continue his line like any proud leader faded away and instead he settled for the idea of passing on his knowledge and experiences to the pups and Younglings of his people.

Then he met you, this petite beautiful thing, when he was lounging on a building near an alley. He heard you before he saw you, heard you and them.

They were calling you strange names and were whistling after you before they decided to follow you down the street. Trying to escape them, you took a left turn and quickened your strides as you crossed the alley.

Mi’ytiar, who was attracted by the noises, slid down the rooftop and soundlessly landed on the metal balcony of one of the apartments. Even from the third floor, he had a perfect view of what was happening down in the alley as the men grabbed you, pushed and pulled on you, and he felt mildly impressed when you started fighting back; kicking, scratching and screaming.

The men’s playful, taunting behavior quickly turned fatal when one of them, fed up with your attempts to flee, slapped you so hard across the face that you stumbled back, tripped over your own feet and fell backwards to the ground.

Your screams quickly turned desperate when one of them pushed up your skirt and tore on your panties, mumbling something about teaching you a lesson, while his companions held you down.

At this point, Mi’ytiar knew something had been wrong. Mating between a Yautja male and female consisted of fighting each other, too, but not like this; not with more than one male and not with the female resisting long after the male fought the female into submission.

Your behavior told him everything he needed to know — you weren’t even close to being interested in mating with those males — and before things could get any worse, he jumped down and killed those who forced themselves on you.

By the time four bodies in various morbid states of dismemberment were littering the alley, your whole body was trembling as you stayed on the ground, cowering.

He had crouched down to your level and one of his bloodied claws reached out to touch your face, your horror-widened eyes watching him with caution.

To him you were what a kitten was to a human. You were so small, he noted, so small and soft and pink. He also thought you were beautiful, contrastive to what Yautja usually thought about your kind. He took you with him that night and the rest was history.

Even though you weren’t a suitable mate, his clan begrudgingly accepted the idea of a human being with their leader. He couldn’t have pups anyway, so why not just let him indulge himself and let him seek happiness and pleasure in other things?

And then, one day, you told him about your wish to carry his pup. He had been excited, absolutely ecstatic, but not about the image of your rounding belly with his offspring — he knew he was unable to have one — and rather about the fact that you were willing to mate with him in a way that could lead to a child. The fact you loved him and trusted him enough was all he cared about.

As much as he loved his son, he should have done something the second both of you learned that you were pregnant. He had been so overjoyed his human mate was extraordinarily able to have his pup that he never thought about possible consequences.

Anyone would have had serious doubts and would have objected because there was no way a human would survive that, but Mi’ytiar didn’t, too blown away by the prospect of becoming a father.

That changed as the day of the pup being due crept closer and closer, and slowly worry and fear set in.

And to make one thing clear: if you hadn’t been injected with Yautja blood from the beginning — first daily, then weekly, then monthly, until it stopped years ago — you wouldn’t have made it and Akail would have torn you apart from the inside out.

He was glad that Cahrein had kept a cool head and realized that his blood would help you when all other means had failed.

It was like history was repeating itself as he tried to focus on the task at hand — getting you to the ship — and not let the fluid running down his arms and body distract him. He wished he hadn’t dared to look down, to look down and see the blood you were losing, coming from a source that was his fault.

Why did he let you convince him to have a second pup? Why did the mere thought of getting you pregnant again make him so ignorant of your near-death experience? Why did he listen to Cahrein when he told the both of you that another pup was possible? Why did he forget that you weren’t like his kind?

His heavy, thumping footsteps suddenly sounded different, and when you pulled your face away from his chest to look around, you noticed the soft earth of the forest had been replaced by the cold metal of the ship.

As careful and gentle as he could in his rattled state, he put you down on the closest surface he could find — the table used for planning, briefing and orientation with several holo-maps — and slammed his fist down on the surface. He growled and hissed a few words you couldn’t understand. Your translating earpieces were perfectly fine, but your brain was only picking up the pain shooting through your body instead of noticing any stimuli from your surroundings.

You were so out of it, the tears blurring your view, that you missed the conversation between Mi’ytiar and the holographic image of Cahrein.

“Mi’ytiar.” Cahrein greeted his leader in the customary way of placing his left fist on the right side of his chest while slightly bowing down his head.

“The pup is coming.” Mi’ytiar said without hesitation, straight to the point.

Cahrein rounded the table to stand next to him and he leaned over you to get a better look at you. He reached out to grab your calves to open your legs, but his hands went right through you.

“Pauk. I can’t help her like this. You have to bring her here.”

“No.” You cried out, answering before Mi’ytiar could even open his mouth. “The pup is coming now.”

Cahrein looked conflicted, contemplating about what to do next as he was restricted in his actions. He could already tell that this was going to be hard.

“Mi’ytiar, I packed a Medicomp for emergencies when you said you two would go hunt. Get it.”

You let out a whine when your mate disappeared from your side, which was quickly occupied by the healer who noticed your distress. “Calm, (Y/N), calm.”

“It hurts so much.” You cried out.

“I know.” He retorted and eyed the red fluid running down your thighs to your calves, dripping down your toes. “You need to take off your clothes.”

With trembling hands, you started to open the pants-like cloth that hugged your legs like a second skin and circled them from your ankles up to your hips. You struggled with the complicated lacing and cursed as you began to rip on them out of frustration.

Bigger hands replaced yours and when you looked up, you saw that Mi’ytiar had returned and stood between your legs. He used his sharp claws to cut the cords open and he pulled the rest of the garment down. He was more considerate with the bloodied panties underneath and tried not to rip them, although you believed that they were irreversibly ruined.

The first and last time he had torn your panties to shreds, you had scolded him for it after he was done fucking you from behind like a dog in his rut. You didn’t have much of your human clothes left — most of it had been replaced by self-made clothes of local fabrics inspired by their style anyway — but what you definitely wanted to keep was your underwear. So when Mi’ytiar returned to you one day from a spontaneous trip to Earth with a dozen new undies, you had been more than thankful.

Mi’ytiar grabbed your ankles, placed both of your feet flat on the table and spread your thighs apart, stepping aside for Cahrein to finally take a look at you.

The healer’s holo-image got down on his knees and peered between what was happening between your legs.

You wanted to hide and press them back together, but you knew that it wasn’t much of help and just let him do his thing. Instead, you let your head loll to the side and looked at your mate.

Mi’ytiar had his hands in fists, keeping them tightly pressed to his sides, and he watched Cahrein with concern and something else in his eyes. You knew he was worried about you. He tried to hide it, tried putting his true feelings behind the mask of a collected and strong leader and warrior like he always did in dicey situations, but you could see right through it.

“And?” He urged Cahrein to finally give him an answer.

“She is ready. She has to push.”

“What about the blood?”

“Incidental. She has to push.”

So that’s what you did.

Taking a deep breath and gripping the edge of the table for the support, you strained every muscle in your body. The resulting, blood-curdling scream even got the two Yautja to flinch and Mi’ytiar lunged forward. He pried your fingers away from the table where you had been holding on for dear life, and intertwined them with his. You instantly squeezed them and Mi’ytiar let out a surprised hiss.

After a moment, your tense body slumped down. It simply gave up after not being able to endure the pain any longer.

“You need to keep going.”

“I can’t.” You hiccuped, choking on your tears as you shook your head vehemently.

“You can. You did this 30 years ago. It was impressive. I never expected such a tiny creature to survive, but you did. You will again.” Cahrein turned to Mi’ytiar and pointed to the Medicomp. “Take the syringe, take your blood and inject it.”

Rather reluctantly, he loosened the hold you had on him and opened the Medicomp. He rummaged through it, found the syringe, and jabbed it into the flesh of his arm, uncaring of the following pain. You were far more important than anything else right now.

While he filled the syringe with his fluorescent-green blood, Cahrein was talking to you and encouraged you to keep going. He tried to distract you and keep your mind from drifting off to a place of no return.

“Something is wrong.” He murmured after a while.

He had watched Mi’ytiar inject you with three doses of his blood already, but you still were in agonizing pain. You even had lost consciousness twice, something that hadn’t even happened when you birthed your first pup.

You squeezed your eyes shut and only opened them again when the pain subsided a bit. “W-What?”

“You should have started crowning already, but you don’t.”

“Why?” You asked in a long-drawn cry.

Cahrein, for the first time in over thirty years, looked baffled and completely clueless. He couldn’t explain it as he had no idea himself. There had never been complications when the females of his clan gave birth. You were the only exception.

“What are typical problems that arise for oomans during childbirth?” He asked, not knowing what else he could do.

It took a moment until you became aware that you had been asked a question.

“Am-Amniotic fluid e-enters the bloodstream… the u-uterus tears… the ba-baby is in an abnormal p-position… it’s s-stuck…” You offered between pained huffs, trying to come up with as many options as you could think of. “In most emergencies, w-when a natural birth isn’t possible, they d-do a c-section… they cut into t-the woman’s belly a-and get the baby out... and then…”

Mi’ytiar wanted you to stop talking. He wanted you to stop putting images of your cut-open body in front of him. He wanted you to stop making him think of your lifeless form after the pup was pulled out of it.

“You have to incise into her abdomen. I will instruct you.” Cahrein finally said.

Mi’ytiar immediately straightened his back and let out a roar. “No!”

“If you do it, either the pup and (Y/N) survive, or just the pup... but if you do nothing, then they will both die.” Cahrein pressed and eyed you for a second.

You were running out of time.

“I… I can’t.”

He sounded defeated. You had never ever expected to see him like this — so vulnerable, so hopeless, so broken. He was the definition of strength, of courage, of accountability, of resilience, and now only a hollow shadow of the man he was was standing in front of you, thinking about the chance of losing his entire world.

He couldn’t lose you. He couldn’t.

How could it be possible for him to live, breathe, without you?

He had a taste of a life he never wanted to leave, a life he wasn’t able to quit, a life only something as extraordinary as you could give him. Not because you were human, although that was probably one of the aspects, but because you were you.

He loved you.

You had taught him that love was the most valuable thing to a person. Love was worth more than anything else in life. It was such a strong, overwhelming feeling no one could put exactly into words until one actually felt it.

And he loved you.

“No, Mi’ytiar… you have to, you have to.” You urged him between panting breaths. “Save our… our baby. Forget me… ju-just save our son… please.”

Mi’ytiar looked down at you as you begged him to do something he wasn’t willing to do in a million years. Cahrein would have hesitated in his stead, but he wasn’t your mate and would have cut into you. Mi’ytiar, on the other hand, could never do something that would harm you.

But he already did, though. He had doomed you the second his seed took.

“Mi’ytiar!” Cahrein barked and pulled the male out of his thoughts.

His body was on autopilot when his hand reached for a scalpel-like tool from the Medicomp.

“Thank you, thank you!” You cried out.

The only thing you felt was relief as your body slowly went numb, tears clouding your view. Everything around you became blurry and Mi'ytiar started to disappear. The world around you grew darker and darker as he set the sharp blade onto your skin and slowly applied pressure, cutting into you until blood flowed onto the table, down to the floor of the ship, creating a red puddle.

You never even registered the feeling of him cutting you open.

Your body shut down before you could.

#predator #predator x reader #predator x you #yautja x reader #yautja x you #fanfic

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cuethediscoandthedrinks · 1 year

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a part 2 to this drabble here!

tsu'tey x courting season (part 2) ⋆｡ﾟ✧｡⋆☾

the only betrayal of tsu'tey's intrigue being the light huff and hum he let out as he took one last smell of the thick, murky scent of your arousal, announcing curtly "...you..are in heat.", lifting two muscled blue arms up to untie his constricted braids, the thick dark locks soon cascaded around his wide shoulders. he'd then began to undo the knots on his loincloth, eyes still taking in your form as he soon rid himself of the remaining material--"take it off..get on your knees."

---

his senses had sussed you out, and now he seemed dead-set on solving the issue at once. in spite of the seemingly blunt sentence, tsu'tey continued to maintain his aura of innate majesty and formality; his tall, toned blue body now fully naked before you, his eyes only widened expectantly at your still partially-clothed form. taking two shaking hands, you proceeded to hesitantly untie your braided hair, but not nearly quick enough for tsu'tey's liking.

in spite of being the one in heat, you seemed to exhibit much more caution at the prospect of mating in comparison to tsu'tey; his body language intimating nothing but an almost militant form of anticipation - lips now pursed, ears oscillating in interest, and tail gently batting the soft earth beneath him--"..i, will mate you. you, now, will be my mate. let me touch.." his voice began assuredly, only to linger just that bit longer, betraying his more nuanced feelings of curiosity and, perhaps even caution at not startling you.

after all, it wasn't actively uncommon to witness more forceful forms of breeding. spanning primal chases, vicious foreplay, and an especially enthusiastic male na'vi to cage a stray mate under his firm grip; spurting long ropes of hot seed into her fertile abdomen. unlike the more common kinds of mating, tsu'tey had previously made up his mind that once he found his mate, he'd do his best to accommodate her needs for time and space before getting to the more..graphic styles of courting.

although in spite of his efforts to maintain such a mature and composed demeanor, tsu'tey found himself becoming impatient. it wasn't his fault that the prey scampered off, or the arrow missed, or you seemed to be actively disregarding his teachings. you were the one displaying such provocative behaviours in front of him; something usually deemed rather taboo and disrespectful, tsu'tey being your elder, teacher, and most importantly the clan leader. to express such wanton movements such as lip-biting, rubbing your thighs together and giving him that look, it only irritated and offended him all the more.

and unlike your riled up self, tsu'tey was a mature, fully-grown na'vi; a few years older than you, and far more experienced in the throes of the annual heat season. frequent trips to the breeding marshes, avoiding fertile female na'vi and spending almost all excess time in the depths of the forest aided any rising feelings. although seeing you now - eyebrows scrunched in badly-masked desperation, the light sheen of slick dripping its way down your soft blue thighs, nipples now hardened buds, and heartbeat quickening in his ears, he felt a pang of pity in your inability to appropriately deal with the issue.

he himself had struggled with such needs, but only through the guidance of the elders; you, on the other hand, were both new to the clan and lacked few close relationships within the community. much of what was to be learned ought to have been done so during adolescence, but here you were, little whines erupting from your pouted lips, doing your utmost to avoid further humiliation in your lack of self-control around the clan leader.

letting out another, more sympathetic huff, tsu'tey stepped closer to your smaller adult form, letting out a soft "..no..hide..i see, i help you, i...touch, let me touch" as he extended his longer, toned arms to your loincloth. now damp with your pooling essence, all you could do was mewl shamefully in response to his offer as he began untying the cloth on either side. what began as hesitance rooted in fear of judgement, had soon become a clouded sense of awareness from the immense growth of arousal staining your thoughts. no longer were you unsure of his response, but too caught up in the unfurling heat in your abdomen, and pulsing, needy entrance to even formulate an intelligible response to his words. and he, of course, knew this.

part of the na'vi's heat was an inability to remain civilised - he almost commended your efforts in doing nothing more than erotically squirming in his presence; many other female na'vi would have already bared their fangs, fought him to the ground and coaxed out his warm creamy seed. sensing the internal conflict you had between being a civilised individual and a primal, heat-fueled na'vi mate, tsu'tey had the feeling that the sky people did it much differently up there.

disrobing you of your remaining clothing, you stood in front of each other entirely bare; the once dim glow of your blue-white freckles now a bright luminous hue, your tail swishing with increasing fervor at the prospect of mating with such a desirable na'vi. tsu'tey's assumption was that you'd merely been hit with your seasonal heat at an inopportune moment, but little did he know that such feelings of deep lust had kept you up many nights; your long blue fingers pumping thick, heady strokes inside your squelching pussy.

you'd had to clamp a hand over your mouth to silence the noises - being unaware that many na'vi merely scampered off to the forest in the small hours, you'd settled for a more covert form of self-pleasure within the cocoons; deeply sleeping na'vi surrounding you, although most likely privy to your ministrations, judging by the increase in shuffling to both the left and right of you as you reached your much-needed peak.

but standing now, your once bashfully shy demeanour was overtaken by a new-found sense of desire; deciding to take some initiative and reclaim your lost composure, you slinked back down onto the grass. the night sky now fully shaded you from view, the only light emanating from the glowing foliage and earth surrounding you both. resting your back against a thick, aged tree trunk, you soon relaxed into the ground below you. with tsu'tey's look of expectation now morphing back into one of intrigue at your behaviour.

he'd fully expected you to pounce on him like any other female na'vi, but your slower, sensual movements seemed to ignite a kind of mysticism with which he had not yet experienced; this, paired with his growing length and dilating pupils only increased when you continued your movements.

almost courteously spreading your legs for him, your bright, wide eyes met his gaze once more - this time with a fresh sense of coy confidence; taking a hand, you delicately smoothed over the surface of your now throbbing, wettened pussy. laying a couple light strokes against your lips, you widened your fingers around the hypersensitive skin; two fingers on each side of your slit spreading your vulva open for him. paired with the almost playful few upwards gyrates of your hips, you commenced an almost endearing form of courting.

you hadn't known this of course, being socialised by a whole other society and race, but tsu'tey could sense your na'vi body almost moving of its own accord for him. and despite his initial sentiment of merely aiding a pitiful situation, the developments in your movements and sultry, provocative gaze began to stir something in the pit of his belly; soon tumbling down to the base of his now almost fully-erect blue cock. something he hadn't quite noticed, being entranced by your almost ritualistic movements; using your most sensitive, vulnurable place to beckon and entice him in a way he'd never seen before.

meanwhile, your quiet breaths had been replaced with some especially colourful whines and moans, your fingers had begun to rub long, languid strokes up and down the length of your throbbing pussy lips. taking the occasional break to dip even deeper into your exposed mound, the calloused tips of your fingers rubbed tight circles around your clenching entrance. you'd even ventured so far as to scoop up a handful of thick, mossy leaves and grass from below your bucking hips, forming a fist around the long blades of coarse grass and damp foliage to smear across the exposed flesh of your sensitive pussy.

using the plantlife for increased sexual gratification wasn't unheard of for the na'vi, and tsu'tey had most definitely experienced such pleasures himself, but seeing the squeals and more desperate squirming that such movements had incited caused tsu'tey to stoop down on his knees, keeping a respectful distance as he remained captivated by such an alluring performance, all for him. the quiet wet noises had since turned into lewd, sloppy squelches and slaps as you grinded your hot cunt against the mixed surfaces of skin, foliage and grass.

in spite of seeing your slick, shiny juices smear all over not just your pulsating open pussy, but also reflect so enchantingly against the luminous glow of the forest, tsu'tey endeavoured to remain both mature and respectful of the graphic, sensuous sight in front of him. he could stay composed despite your more eager, earnest ministrations, of course he could.

that was until in the most lewd, wanton tone through a pleaure-stained grimace, the rhythmic humping of your hips, and the tell-tale noises of hot, animalistic sex all grew to a crescendo with your uttered phrase, "..hhuungh..b-breed it..take me, tìyawn..a-aah..", which then triggered an almost primal response from tsu'tey. stalking towards you on his hands and knees, he whispered a "..assshk, muntxa si..let me taste..", any sense of judgement or rationalisation escaping in favour of unabashed lust and greed, having now been entirely won over...

part three? <3 the feedback :)

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bimobuddy · 2 months

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Intimacy

Hazbin Tickle Fic

Lee!Vox, Ler!Valentino

OOC Valentino, he's a lot softer and more genuine in this fic than he is in the show

CW: Suggestive language and moments (nothing too explicit), swearing

Summary: Vox comments that he's not in the mood for s-x, so Val finds another way to be intimate with his partner.

Vox stepped into his shared apartment with Valentino. He groaned and took his hat off, shrugging his jacket off as well, leaving him in his white button up. As soon as he kicked the door shut behind him, his much taller partner stepped into view from the other room. He didn't say much at first, but his open, slightly fluttering wings gave away that he was happy to see him.

"Amor, welcome home. You look stressed~" Valentino purred, his lower set of arms wrapping around Vox's waist, while the upper set cupped the sides of his screen. Vox sighed, "I am. Val-" "How about I take care of that for you~?" Val said, his hands starting to roam, but he felt Vox start to pull away, so he immediately stopped and let him.

"Thanks, Val, but I'm not in the mood," he reached up and took one of the moth's hands, "Maybe we can do something else tonight.. I do want to spend time with you, I just don't-.. I'm not in the mood I'm sor-" Val cut him off by gently squeezing his hand, "Relax, The first no was enough, Screen-Bean, I understand."

Vox felt his screen light up a bit more. He huffed and turned away just a bit. "Don't call me that.." Val chuckled, amused, and effortlessly scooped him up. Vox yelped a little out of surprise, "V-Val! Put-" He immediately went quiet as his partner pressed their foreheads together, muttering something in Spanish. Having spent enough time with Val, he had learned enough to know what he had said. 'Would you relax? Let me take care of you, you angry little man.'

The show-host huffed at that last comment, but allowed Valentino to carry him to their room. "So, out of curiosity, what has you so stressed, my love?" The moth asked. Vox sank a little more into his arms, secretly delighted with how gentle Val was holding him. It was moments like this that reminded him that he was loved instead of just lusted for.

"Fuckin' Alastor.. He showed up at the studio today." Vox muttered. Val couldn't stop the amused smile that appeared. He knew his partner hated the Radio Demon, but it amused him just how dramatic the rivalry was at times. Both of them were equally as petty toward each other. "Did you win?" He asked. Vox just sighed, his screen dimming. His poor little host.

"I see... And you're not in the mood for sex," He made it to their bed and set Vox down, biting back a chuckle as the other just let himself flop down pathetically, "So what are you in the mood for?"

Vox laid there on their bed, his legs draped over Val's lap, as his partner rested all four arms on top of them. "I don't know.. Nothing sexual, just.. Intimacy.. I don't really know how to voice it. I just want to be close to you.. And I want to touch you, but.. just not like that."

Val understood what he meant perfectly. He may have been a very sexual person, but he was no stranger to affection. "Anywhere in particular you don't wish to be touched? Other than your dick." This made Vox burst into light laughter, being immature, pressing a hand over his mouth as he turned his brightening face away.

Oh there we go.

Valentino had always loved Vox's laugh. His real laugh, anyway. It was so rare that he got to hear it. It sounded so human.

Just as Vox was calming down, he reached up and started to unbutton his shirt. The host raised a brow at him. He knew Valentino would not go back on his word, so he wasn't exactly sure what he was doing. However, he got his answer when Val's lower two hands started to gently trace circles into the area just above his hips.

His screen lit up and started to turn pink. "V-Vahal- c'mon-" He started, cursing himself for letting a giggle slip out. The taller of the two grinned. "Oh don't act like you don't like it, I'm not dumb~" He teased, getting his shirt open and slipping two hands in to skitter up his sides. "After years of being intimate, you really thought I never picked up on this little quirk of yours?"

Vox's screen went completely pink. He knew!? For the longest time, he had tried to keep this fondness a secret. He didn't want Val to get the wrong idea and think it was a fetish. It wasn't, he just didn't fully understand what exactly it was. He knew he liked it though. He knew it was-

His eyes widened. It was intimate. Like he had asked.

And Val knew this. That's why he started in the first place.

He felt Valentino raise his arms over his head and pin them there, his second set of hands gently scritching up and down his sides. Vox tossed his head back and just let the giggles spill out of him. "H-Hohohow the fuhuhuck-!?"

Val grinned, scritching up to his ribs, his claws gently crawling up the bones and toward his underarms, making Vox twitch and giggle. "Like I said, we've slept together so many times, it wasn't hard for me to figure out you were ticklish. However, instead of moving away or telling me to stop, you always just let it happen." He swirled his claws into Vox's underarms, getting heavier laughter out of him. He continued, "At first I thought you were into it sexually, but then it occured to me, that you'd have no issue communicating that. So that scratched that off the list of possibilities." As he said 'scratched,' he started to scritch at his underarms, smirking as he felt Vox starting to kick at the mattress.

"Sooo, as time went on, I started to realize that you leaned into it the same way you lean into any other show of affection. You see this," he scribbled over his tummy, "as affectionate."

Vox couldn't even argue. Literally, from the laughter, but also because he knew Val was right. It was affectionate to him. It was closeness, it was soft, it made him happy, especially when coming from someone close to him like Val.

His moth pressed their foreheads together again, the tickling slowing. "So now, amor.. Shall I continue?" Vox was blushy and flustered, but he hesitantly nodded. He had kept it a secret for years now, and he wanted to finally share this with Val.

With that, he felt his partner release his wrists, placing two hands on his tummy, and two hands at his lower sides, just above his hips. "Keep your arms up then~" he purred. Immediately, Vox's fans whirred to life as he started to heat up, causing Val to chuckle.

He started to scritch and skitter along his tummy, while gently pinching at his hips. Vox let out an airy wheeze before he dissolved into frantic giggles, trying to pull his knees up to his chest, but Vall just pushed them back down and sat on his lap to keep them down.

Vox's skin felt buzzy, his heart was fluttering, and he felt overwhelmed with four hands getting him at once. And it felt great. He had to grab the pillow underneath him to keep his arms up as he squirmed from side to side, kicking his heels into the bed.

"Fuhuhuhuck, Vahahahal! Ahahahahaha plehehehease-" "Please what~? Because I know you don't want me to stop yet~" Val teased. Vox couldn't answer, just looking away.

Val started targeting his underarms again with gentle scratching, drilling his thumbs into his hips at the time time. Vox arched his back and slammed his arms down, cackling and curling up on his side. "FAHAHAHACK! NOHOHOT THEHEHERE, NONONO HAHAHAHAHA!" He screamed out, his voice glitching and his legs kicking.

After his screen went to bars for a second, Val eased up and slowed to a stop. "Arms back up, darling, my hands are stuck~" He cooed, gently tugging on his hands. "I cahahant!" Vox said, still blushing and giggling, loopy. Val chuckled, looking down at him in adoration. "I'm not even tickling you anymore!" Vox's screen lit up pink again, still unable to calm his giggling down. "I knohow, shuhut uhuhup!"

Understanding he was overwhelmed, Val reached up and took an antenna in his hand, gently rubbing it. Vox leaned into it, his frantic giggling calming down as his breathing started to even out. The moth used his other free hand to cup the side of Vox's face, brushing a thumb against his screen.

The host opened his eyes and relaxed, looking up at his partner, still clearly loopy and not fully thinking or functioning. Val slipped his hands out from under Vox's arms and shifted to lay next to him, continuing to hold him and give him his full attention.

One hand continued to rub his antenna, making him melt into the touch, while the other three wrapped around him to pull him closer. He touched their foreheads together, and Vox dimmed his screen to make it easier on Val's eyes.

As Vox started to doze off, he knew he'd start asking for this a lot more often.

#sfw tickling community #tickle community #tickle fic #tickling #hazbin hotel tickle #hazbin tickles #lee!vox #ler!valentino

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planetxiao · 1 year

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Can you do Xiao, venti, and scaramouche, x reader who loves holding hands and hugs? Thank you!

# HOLDING ONTO YOU.

꠵ PAIRINGS; venti ; xiao ; scaramouche/wanderer x reader.

꠵ GENRE; fluff, headcanons.

꠵ NOTES; you’ve picked some of my favorite boys so i got very excited to write this hehe. thank you for the request!!

# VENTI

You’ve definitely met your match. Venti’s main love language is physical touch so he is usually holding or touching you in some way or another already; it doesn’t matter if you’re in public or not, Venti just wants to have you close. So, for him to gradually discover that you also love having him within your grasp made him all the more head over heels for you.

Venti will never turn down one of your hugs or kisses, no matter the place. Nothing brings him more comfort than having your body heat pressed flush against his. He could write— he has written— ballads about the beautiful beat of your heart; how entrancing you smell; the silk of your skin, just to name a few of his muses.

He finds it absolutely adorable when you link pinkies with him. Sometimes it can feel more intimate than actually taking his hand into yours. It remains a tiny reminder to you both that you’re there with each other in every way the wind blows. It’s often, though, that when you do intertwine your fingers, Venti will raise your knuckles to his lips to place a tender kiss, and then plant a matching one on your lips.

# XIAO

Xiao is foreign to physical intimacy. Many long years of his life driven by a single mission has left him quite starved of touch. That is, until you came along. The first time you had reached for his hand, he felt the air disappear from his lungs. He instinctively moved his hand away, warning you, again, that he could harm you with his touch. You didn’t relent. Instead, you reached again, and this time he allowed you to. It was as if he really, desperately, wanted to be proven wrong. And, he was. You simply smiled at him and uttered comforting words that pulsed in his brain.

From then on, you had always indulged him with your affections. He finds it surprising how you always seem to know what exactly he needs in that moment; even more so, that it happens to be your touch. Having you within his arms removes the weight from his shoulders. He knows he’s able to relax— even just for a moment— when he feels your hand slide into his. He yearns for your touch so much, it is truly the oddest desire he’s felt in his heart.

He is well aware of the way his skin burns from your lingering touch, how his heart stutters when your fingers intertwine with his, the tingling sensation he feels with one of your gentle kisses. He’s unsure how you could make him feel so much; it’s like you’ve somehow bound him to you, wrapping him up in the red thread of fate. But, he revels in your love as if he has found the most bountiful treasures in all of Teyvat. To Xiao, he had.

# SCARAMOUCHE / WANDERER

He likes it more than he cares to admit. Scaramouche’s love and care comes in the form of teasing comments, cocky smirks, and flicks to the forehead; the cards he was dealt in his life didn’t really allow for him to learn the other types of affection. Through time, and through you, he is able to discover them slowly. So, at first, when you hugged him, he stiffened up quite a bit.

He doesn’t turn away your generous affections, but it takes a bit of time for him to reciprocate. Just expect a teasing jab at you from him, it’s how he tries to hide how flustered your touch makes him. Though, he may slip in the whisper of a soft sentiment not meant for you to hear.

Scaramouche is more private with intimacy, so trying to hold his hand or hug him in public may not go the way you hope. However, that is not to say he doesn’t value your tender care for him. Behind closed doors, he relishes in it. As he grows used to it, he’ll melt into your arms so easily. Scaramouche has found a home within your hold, and though he does not voice it, he wouldn’t trade it for any amount of mora or treasure in the world.

꠵ TAGLIST; @sonder-paradise @snowbits @fiannee

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #venti x reader #xiao x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader

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ninetailedfoxmanchi · 1 year

Text

What is König Like in a Relationship (according to me)

Warnings: mentions of bullying, anxiety, NSFW mentions but nothing very explicit

A/N: Honestly, I needed to read some backstory for König and once again this is just my idea of him, if you've imagined him differently, that's absolutely valid!

* * *

Although König is goofy and relaxed that is just on the surface. In truth, he is actually very insecure and socially awkward which is why he's learned to compensate this with humour

He was bullied for the majority of his childhood and particularly in his teens for his height and size (the man is 6'10 (roughly 210cm)); when he signed up for military, they only confirmed his insecurities by saying he is too large and awkward to be a sniper

König proved them wrong by becoming one of the best snipers in the world which definitely boosted his confidence although his childhood trauma remained

Because König is well aware of how social anxiety feels, he would never put you in an uncomfortable position, especially in front of other people

He loves to make you laugh and tease you playfully though

König also loves to talk to you all the time, he can be very loud but he is also very good-natured

The man is also very handy and if he can find any way to use his height, size and strength to an advantage, he will do it because he is so done with being insecure about it

That is until it comes to being intimate with you; he is absolutely petrified of having sex for the first time with you - not because he does not want it, he wants you so bad, but because he is afraid he will hurt you

You reassure him multiple times and take it slow but it takes quite a few tries to get him to relax enough to try anything past a make-out session

König would also be very insecure about going down on you for fear of not making you feel good; in truth, he just needs some encouragement because as it turns out, he's a natural

In an argument or if he just feels like he hurt you or you're angry, König shuts off very quickly because he feels so guilty (although it may not even be his fault); it takes a long, reassuring discussion from your part that you just want him to communicate to you about his feelings and not to apologize for anything

And it needs to be said that although he is usually loud and goofy, he never yells at you during arguments. He turns very quiet and insecure, more likely backing away from the argument than jump in guns blasting

You can tell if he is sad or hurt or angry by the tone of his voice. It turns calm and silky, his German accent less prominent

His love languages are acts of service, quality time and physical touch when he gets comfortable enough; and in turn, he loves to receive words of affirmation, also quality time and especially physical touch from you

Few were the opportunities in his life when someone was gentle and genuinely kind to him; and those things coming from you make him feel so loved

Another thing, König would rarely admit in a straightforward manner but he is very, very protective of you - he always insists you walk on the inner side of the pavement, he either holds your hand or keeps his on your back when you're walking through a crowd (also to reassure his own anxiety) and he always insists you call him when you get somewhere so that he knows you've arrived safely

König's favourite acts of physical touch are definitely cuddling; you sitting on his lap or lying on top of him, him lying between your legs as he rests his head on your tummy, he loves to hold your hands all the time because they feel so small, soft and delicate against his

Finally, he is definitely husband material; he is so supportive and caring, he would never let anything hurt you and he would do anything to see you smile and be happy

Bonus

König always thought he was a dog person until he came across a litter of abandoned kittens on one of his missions and absolutely fell in love. He has been bugging you to adopt a kitten ever since

Also, I think König has grey-green eyes, round, droopy and sad and his hair is short, military cut and dark brown like forest soil. His nose is big and crooked-like/Roman and he only rarely shaves clean; he prefers a slight stubble on his cheeks

In the beginning of the relationship, if you kiss him, even just his cheek, he will blush a deep shade of red and his heart would race out of his chest, but probably for the first time in his life, in a good way <3

#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic #modern warefare 2 x reader #modern warfare 2 #könig x reader #konig mw2 #konig fanfiction #konig headcanons #cod konig #konig imagine

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kth1fics · 1 year

Text

00:00 (Zero O’Clock) (M) | KTH

00:00 (Zero O’Clock)

⟶ Pairing: Taehyung x Female Reader ⟶ Genre: Established Relationship, PWP, Slice of Life, Domestic Fluff, Smut, 18+ ⟶ WC: 6.8k+ ⟶ Warnings: disgustingly fluffy fluff (for me lol), super sweet interactions and love, unprotected sex, neck kisses, brief fingering, language, etc ⟶ Beta: @daechwitatamic jumping jo jo bean ⟶ Summary: A night full of movies and intimate conversations with the love of your life and his fluffy dog whom you love more than anything leads into something more. ⟶ Author's Note: Yeah. My sweet, sweet, heart throbbing love for a man and his adorable Pomeranian. What else do you expect of me? I didn’t add too much detail toward Yeontan here, but let me have you know – I adore that dog to no end. ⟶ Song Recommendation: Closer (ft Paul Blanco, Mahalia) by RM

Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi

“I love you,” he whispers in a soft baritone. Darkness surrounds you besides the lighting from the flat screen television across the room. It runs credits after a movie, names and titles all gradually sliding up the screen to credit all the workers who assisted in the development of the film. “I really do love you,” he adds.

It’s midnight on the dot; motionless comfort sits in the middle of the living room as both you and Taehyung lay tangled together on the couch. Never having a moment where you are not touching. Holding onto another like it’s your duty. As if it’s your job to make sure the other is there physically. Not caught up in a fever dream of happiness. Only the softest and kindest of touches are exchanged through the series of movies the two of you enjoyed throughout the night. Caressing one another's hands and limbs, gripping just enough to not let one slip from their grasps. If one of you attempts to pull away, the other is quick to pull them back.

You’re disgustingly in love and so is he. It’s just how it works. There’s nothing between the two of you that suits the stereotypical definition of the word ‘perfect’. Contrasting differences and different likes and dislikes can do that. Opposing personalities when it comes to opinions and personal preferences. Raised in separate environments. But without a doubt, pushing aside those things that don’t match one another and accepting one another’s flaws — now that is what makes your relationship with Taehyung perfect. Where it is so effortlessly easy to work along with another, to communicate and keep moving forward. How the two of you continue and fully engage yourselves in another to keep learning and continue to grow. With full blown adoration and a magnetic bond that is fueled with such loving intensity; you and Taehyung are completely perfect for each other.

“I love you more,” you begin to smile slowly. You hate how easy it gets to make you feel giddy and happy. How a simple confession just means so much for you to hear. Because you know Taehyung means exactly what he says and he will always say it to remind you.

He has no hesitation with letting you know that you truly are the love of his life, and just as he pulls you in closer as if the two of you had any more space left between you, Taehyung grins wholeheartedly. His face turns toward you as he leans in, placing his cheek against your shoulder while his arm reaches around your front to secure your frame against his.

The warmth of the blanket covering the two of you on the couch already holds heat to keep your bodies warm. But you feel even more comfort with the touch of Taehyung’s skin against yours as he casually tucks his hand under a portion of your hoodie (actually it’s his and you stole it for the night). He, too, wears one of his own; it helps keep the both of you sheltered from the chill of your house.

Your tired eyes glance over to a window that reaches views of the outside. Streetlights glow dim on the road as thick flurries fall down and stick to the ground. It’s beautiful and serene as the two of you watch in silence, favoring how a scenic sight like this is your favorite thing to witness — even in the comfort of your own home.

“I could just stay here all night,” he says in the same low tone. “I don’t want to let go.”

At that, you slide your own hands across his arm. Holding him to you and squeezing slightly to emphasize that you enjoy this as well.

“We don’t have to move,” you promise. “We can stay like this until we fall asleep.”

Taehyung turns his head even more to nuzzle his face into your neck. Pressing himself against your skin to enjoy the closeness of your bodies and the faint scent of your body wash that hardly lingers on your skin. He’s an absolute cuddle bug, giving you all of his vulnerability because he knows you would never abuse it.

The breath of his nose fans out and tickles your skin, raising goosebumps when he hums in content. His lips press delicately against you with no rush, just lazy and exactly how he knows you like it.

“I’m happy with that idea,” he lets out a short giggle.

You turn slightly and attempt to face Taehyung, opening up your body to direct all of your attention on him. He notices your movement and pulls away enough to let you shift. Immediately, you connect the palm of your hand to his cheek. Rubbing your thumb softly on his tanned skin that has the smallest amounts of stubble growing in from his chin and upper lip. Taehyung releases another satisfied hum as he closes his eyes, easing into your touch that does wonders to his heart. Your fingers skim the roots of his wavy black hair, combing toward the back of his head to collect a fistful. You don’t tug on them tightly, but you continue to groom his strands like a brush.

The back of the couch meets the side of your face as you lean into it, smiling warmly at the man who’s intertwined with you. Your legs lift to lay across his lap where one of his knees is bent to accommodate his position. The hand that he keeps around your body now tugs you, sliding you as close as possible so he can lean in.

“Kiss me once,” he requests. “Then kiss me twice,” he adds. “Then kiss me once more,” he quotes the lines from a favorite song.

Taehyung leans in to connect your lips with his. Molding together as you’ve done over a hundred times before. They’re plush and plump, moistened from his constant tongue licking and teeth biting. But also they feel so soft and smooth. So light, so sweet. Kissing anyone you’re a little bit infatuated with is always wonderful. But kissing Taehyung is nothing short of extraordinary. He’s someone who wants you as much as you want him. Where even after years of intimate touches and tender loving it still feels sort of dreamy.

And when your tongues meet on kiss number two, you taste him as if it is the first time. You feel yourself falling apart. Pieces of you shatter and fall around him in the safety of knowing he will be there to pick them back up. To hold and cherish as he takes you in each and every time. You’re so utterly ready to melt away in his embrace, you want to give your all to him. Where you lose yourself on the couch, the floor, in his hair and his heart. To feel him inside and out of you; all around you.

Lock your souls together as one whole. An unbreakable entity.

Once kiss number three begins to happen, you murmur your confession of love again as your bottom lip quivers with emotion. You remind him that he is loved and how lucky you are to have found each other for a moment of the most unimaginable happiness you can know.

You would give up anything to feel like this for eternity.

“My love,” he smiles when speaking against your lips. “You mean the entire world to me.”

His heart swells with adoration and glee. There’s nothing more he wants than what’s happening right now. Loving his partner, his love. To make you feel protected, appreciated, and wanted — no, needed.

Taehyung’s hand runs to the back of your neck to draw you into him. Intoxicated on you. He places his lips on yours once again and this time he leans forward, hinting for you to fall back onto the cushions as he’s ready to follow you.

A soft growl resonates, not from you nor from Taehyung. As your head falls softly back onto the cushion, you bump into the fluffy butt of another love of your life — your shared child; the tan and black colored Pomerainian, Yeontan. He originally is Taehyung’s baby, he got him when he was a wee puppy. But a few years down the road you were introduced into the mix, and Yeontan — who was definitely skeptical of you at first — grew to love you more and more. Just like his father.

Now you call him yours. And some days, Yeontan likes you better. Usually on the days you sneak him more treats than he’s allotted. But we don’t dare tell Taehyung this.

“Oh!” You smile and twist your head toward the dog who now begins sniffing your face. “Sorry, baby!”

Taehyung’s large hand comes to pat the top of Yeontan’s head. He pets him with kindness. “I forget he was over here,” he says. “Forgive me,” he begs toward the dog who’s began licking his hand. “Tannie, I need you to move.” Taehyung softly and slowly slides his palm under the side of Yeontan. With full on reluctance and sass, the mere 8 pound dog huffs as he stands on all fours.

“Aw,” you sigh as you feel bad for the pooch who now is being evicted from the couch.

You hear the tap of Yeontan’s nails clink lightly against the tile flooring as he jumps down from the cushion. He quickly looks around in the mild darkness of the house to find his best exit strategy.

Preferably away from his father and adopted mother who are seconds away from fornicating on the spot he was just resting on. (Although he’s just a dog who probably does not know the full extent of what the two of you are about to do). As Yeontan descends down the pitch darkness of the hallway toward the bedroom, you frown for him. Feeling bad for the upset dog.

“It’s not like you to kick Tannie out of the room,” you comment with a pout.

“He’ll be fine,” Taehyung murmurs as he continues to lay on top of you. “Besides, I don’t want him seeing what we’re doing.”

“Protecting your son’s eyes from the vulnerability of two lovers?”

“Exactly.”

The playful nature of his tone is hidden by the breathy deep whisper and soft plush lips heating up the shell of your ear. It tickles and sparks bursts of small firebolts through your system.

“We wouldn’t want to set a bad example,” you chide back, smirking as you turn your head and allow Taehyung’s lips to skim against your cheek. You exhale a breath you didn’t notice you held, trying to find the will to close the small distance between your lips, but the tension growing between you and Taehyung fuels you. “Like how his father does nothing but tease.”

“I always fulfill,” Taehyung draws back slightly, a pout dressing his features. Like an arrow subtly striking an apple’s skin, you pricked a tiny hole into Taehyung’s ego. “You know I do,” he adds.

Your palm reaches up and cups his chin as you tap your fingers softly against his cheek, smiling to yourself. It takes everything in your body to resist kissing away the jutted out bottom lip on Taehyung’s frowning face.

“I know you do,” you reassure softly. It warms his heart hearing those sweet, kind words of affirmation. You swear you can feel the twitch of his lips against your palm, threatening to break his saddened facade and into a pile of putty.

“Then show me you know,” he bids through half-lidded eyes, tongue swiping ever-so-slightly across his lips.

Your eyelids flutter with a thrilling chill running through your body, excitement blasts through your core and heat rises in your cheeks.The soft linen blanket that covers the two of you hordes all your body heat, the rising temperature increasing over time.

Taehyung uses this opportunity to cradle the back of your head, positioning it gently where he wants you while his other hand slides up the length of your leg and coaxes you to hook around his hip. He closes the gap with a teasing smile, hungrily molding your mouths together as though he’s desperate to taste every drop of you. Taehyung inhales you, greedily, and immediately comes to suck at your bottom lip – hooking it between his teeth before letting it pop back.

A small satisfied sigh rests in your throat, your mouth chases his as he pulls away just enough to be out of reach. His fingers comb through the roots of your hair, nails raking softly across your scalp.

“Come back,” you whisper a plea to him. “Tae –”

“– I’m just admiring you.”

“But I want to keep kissing you,” you sulk. “You’re doing exactly what I just said you do.”

He giggles, a deep baritone hypnotic melody that rumbles inside his chest. “I know.”

Taehyung doesn’t want to drag out the night further, it is quite late. But he can’t help himself from stopping every now and then and basking in the amazement of you. Looking at you, taking you in. It’s his favorite pastime if you ask. But he’s genuine and so devoted toward you, that doing nothing but seeing you is enough to fuel the electric butterflies in his stomach and fill his heart to the rim. He truly adores you.

Those gentle chuckles diminish and quickly morph into muffled, shy moans as Taehyung reconnects your awaiting kiss. You waste no second by diving your tongue into his mouth. It takes even less for him to counter your intrusion with his own, losing yourselves in a rhythmic dance.

You feel the way his warm large palm runs up and down the outer meat of your thigh that’s around his frame. Your hips involuntarily roll toward him as the need of Taehyung grows stronger between your legs. He’s lucky you’re wearing shorts right now, he would be disappointed if he couldn’t feel the heat of your skin against him.

“Can we lose these?” He gestures as his fingers run up toward your waistband. You feel the coolness of his fingers touch your delicate skin, it’s not too cold to make you wince but you note that Taehyung needs to be warmed up too.

You nod into the kiss, body moving along with Taehyung’s as his fingers hook around the band of your shorts and whatever underwear you have on and slowly, achingly, slide them down and off your legs. He’s sure to keep himself hovered enough with the blanket around his shoulders, caging you in from the chill of the outside air. His eyes roam your exposed lower half, nothing he hasn’t seen before. But he always knows how to appreciate a beautiful sight, drinking in the picture of the sheen of arousal coating your pussy.

“Your hoodie,” you comment as you lean back enough and shrug your arms through the holes of your own lengthy sleeves. With haste, you work the material over your head as Taehyung does the same but quicker. Revealing his bare torso – a soft stomach and smooth chest – and fanned out black hair to you.

Still hovering and even planting a single foot down to the ground, Taehyung grips the hem of the thin tee shirt still covering your body. “This too?” He asks curiously, fingers itching to pull the soft material up your front.

“It’s still cold,” you deny with a sorry look.

Though Taehyung doesn’t press further. He only wants to keep you comfortable and he accepts your tender denial.

He nods as the hoods of his eyelids shade with subtle gleam and haze. You blink, a deep exhale escapes your chest as you witness the tightening of Taehyung’s nipples as they harden. Every impulse in you screams to act on instinct and touch them, rub against them to tame their hardening.

And so you do, softly, with the pads of your thumbs. Giggling to yourself when he winces only slightly at the contact and returns a toothy smile.

Taehyung takes revenge by sliding his hands under your thin shirt, fingers pinching the tender flesh of your waist to tickle you. He lowers himself down fast, refusing to allow you to bolt up from your position and scurry away from his grasp.

“I’ll keep you warm,” he promises with a hum. His mouth skims over your temple, pressing fluttering kisses down the side of your face as you turn away from him.

You feel the warmth of Taehyung’s skin against yours as his arms scoop around you. It’s ultimately comfortable being guarded in his embrace, feeling held and protected all in one. The press of Taehyung’s lower half sits right at the apex of your thighs as he rests against you. His erection is strongly evident and hidden just under the menace of his sweatpants.

He uses this opportunity to press into you to give you the reminder of what you’re currently missing out on, yet you will fully receive. Another teasing antic of his, and you love it entirely. It causes enough friction to rub your clit deliciously. It also refreshes your memory on how hard – how damn thick Taehyung is down there.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer to you for a deeper kiss. A meaningful lust. One that feels that it could be your last, so you make it everlasting – as much as possible. Where your breaths are caught, trapped inside your lungs with nowhere to escape. How time can pause, even in such a heated intimate position, and feel completely exposed in an emotional kind of way. Your tongue pushes past his lips and teeth and he responds with an enthusiastic rut of his hips. Gaining himself a subtle moan from you that only his ears can pick up.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” you pant. Your legs spread wider on their own accord. You abandon all thoughts of trying to stretch out your time of canoodling and hint to Taehyung how willing and ready you are. Lightly massage the back of his neck as you kiss him again, you smile sweetly into the lips of the man you’ve given everything to. “Don’t stop,” you whisper.

A gasp leaves your mouth as Taehyung slides his fingers between the two of you, running his fingers directly along your folds. Your slick, the natural clear and sticky arousal, now coats his digits the more he fondles your lower lips. Giving him such an easy gliding area and access to your cunt. With all his love, he begins rubbing small, quick and diligent circles against your slippery clit – drawing yet another sighing moan from your mouth.

“Does this feel good or should I slow down?” he questions with mirth and a satisfied hum as he dips his head to the junction of your shoulder and neck. Slotting his face right against your soft flesh and teeth nipping at the first contact against a sweet spot he knows all too well. You hiss, shuttering at the love bite and eyes fluttering shut, tight, as you savor the miniature pinch of pain. “Y/n?”

“Why…” you exhale a mewl, fighting and failing from melting into the couch below you. “...do you even ask?”

A deep, throaty giggle vibrates within Taehyung’s chest. He presses down with the flat of his tongue, exploring that exposed column of your neck to pull more sounds of pleasure from your mouth. He matches the tempo with the rolls of his fingers, nudging your engorged clit around like a dialog stick on a controller.

Your cunt throbs excitedly, anticipating the moments Taehyung plunges his fingers into you. Another delightful moan escapes your throat with the build up of your shaky breaths and it only confirms to his ears that you are in fact enjoying every little bit of this attention.

Taehyung continues to massage his wet tongue into a sensitive spot of your neck before grabbing it between his teeth. He sucks on it with vigor, diligent on making sure he leaves an impression on your body as his fingers slither their way toward your entrance.

“Ah, Taehyung,” you moan with a croaky voice. Your chest rises and falls as heat smothers you under this blanket and the man slotted between your thighs. Carefully, you slide a portion of the material down Taehyung’s back, enough to let in a small spill of cool air as your nails lightly rake down his spine.

He moans at how sparks of fire run in the wake of your nails, a warm sensation drawn to the risen skin. His name rolling off your tongue like second nature also winds him up, thinking that your clit has been catered to far enough and now it’s time to deliver his next step.

His decision on sinking two fingers rather than one is honestly due to the amount of arousal already coating his fingers. You’ve given him plenty to work with, telling him without actually telling him how your body is unbelievably ready for him. Taehyung’s thumb rubs gently over your clit as both his index and middle fingers plunge deeper into your dripping cunt, curling up his fingers to force your walls to clutch and release on instinct.

Your gasp of relief tickles his fancy. You dig more prominently into his back with your fingernails now, blessing his skin with small crescent indents as your other hand knots itself in his hair. The sounds you begin to make, those sharp little groans you cannot hide from him, makes his cock twitch eagerly.

“Do you want me to eat you out?” he questions in the middle of his assault. His lips morph over the lobe of your ear as you hear his soft exhales releasing from his nose.

Your cheeks blast with fire and the honest question nearly short-circuits your brain as you try to comprehend what he’s asking all the while you’re fully enjoying what is currently going on. When you fail to respond to Taehyung, and instead grip onto him tighter, he falters the speed of his fingers. Decaying his rapid speed growth with agonizingly slow and languid fingers thrusts until he stops fully. You don’t realize he’s halted until you notice the way your hips have been chasing his movement and pussy gripping onto his digits.

“No!” You bite your bottom lip to avoid letting the word come out as a scream. Instead, a whiny moan of desperation takes over as you’re pulling Taehyung flush against your body with need. “Please, don’t stop.”

“I can give you something better,” he insists on a different approach. Perhaps tonight isn’t the night you need his tongue down there, and he’s perfectly alright with that. His lips press into your cheek while his breath fans out of his mouth. “Let me,” he begins to reinsert his fingers, “sink my,” his knuckles graze past your opening and fingers bend slightly to a new angle, “dick into this pussy,” he growls as his two fingers begin to scissor you open like stretching the elastic of a balloon.

You whimper at the sound of Taehyung’s deep voice whispering into your ear. He’s surprised with how fast your hands move to his sweatpants. Reaching down, you palm his length eagerly, feeling the leaking tip of his cock already poking out of the waistband. Taehyung groans as you take him by surprise, squeezing over his girth and running your hand along his shaft. You want to shove your hand under his pants to feel the skin to skin contact, how warm, hard, and heavy he feels once you secure your fingers around him.

“I want to make you feel good, too,” you confess.

Taehyung offers a gentle kiss as his hand helps shimmy his pants down his thighs and past his knees. He kicks them off quickly before leaning his chest against you again, gripping your wrist and pulling it away from him. He pins your arm against you prior to letting it go in favor of sliding his palm up to interlock his fingers with yours. Below, you can feel his swollen cock nudging against your inner thigh at an odd angle.

“This will make me feel good,” he affirms with a small thrust into you.

His fingers tremble oh so slightly as they cup your chin, lightly pulling your face toward his. Your lips meet again, molding themselves like two puzzle pieces made perfect for another. So deep, so passionately. You barely even notice the continuous rolls of his hips, setting a slow and cautious pace.

“I love you, Y/n,” he leaves the words on the surface of your lips. His eyes, beautiful as the shine of the television which has been long forgotten adds a crisp glow to his dark brown irises, scanning over your features as he takes you in. They flicker back and forth with yours while his fingers push away some flyaway hairs from your face. The others which are preoccupied with being locked within yours tighten their grip with yours in a protective way to offer comfort and reassurance. To emphasize how seriously he means to speak.

Your heart would skip a beat if it were actually possible without having cardiac arrest, but that’s what it feels like – in some manner – whenever Taehyung confesses to you in such a way. Love, the word, is strong enough. It comes with an unlimited number of reasons and meanings. Love, itself, is something scary and heartwarming all in one. To have this kind of love, the one you share with Taehyung, man – there is nothing like it. There can never be a duplicate or a replacement for it. You pity those around you because what you feel with your boyfriend feels like nobody else can have it – with him or anyone else. It’s indescribable – the feelings that swell deep in your heart and mind. They fuel every nerve and fiber of your being. It makes you vulnerable, through and through. But you would always give that chance; will always willingly give Taehyung your entire entity if you can.

Because he means that much to you. Your whole damn life has been made until now and you want nothing more than to continue writing it with Taehyung. You could spend forever and a day tangling in your half-naked embrace, innocently kissing away all your life with Taehyung if that were such a thing.

You try your hardest to stop yourself from stepping to that stair of emotions, you really do. The plateau of all your touchy-feely feelings that makes you feel weak and scared. But it’s only because you hate to give anyone the options to see them. To possibly hurt you so easily because you expose yourself.

But not for Taehyung.

Over the course of your relationship you’ve grown to allow him and only him to see these sides of you. You accept him and all. Which makes him one of the very few human beings to be worthy of seeing such a sensitive part of you.

Tears sting and threaten to break past the brims of your eyes and Taehyung tenses. He knows. Of fucking course he knows. He feels you, not just physically, but he can feel that connection you don’t need to describe to him through a cycle of words. Taehyung has never requested for you to explain. From the very start he’s completely accepted it. It’s understanding and patience, listening and learning. Even with two headstrong cardinal signs, where bickering and intense fights are bound to happen, the two of you make it work. Because even with all those hard times together, there are great times that outweigh those unfortunate happenings. It makes you two stronger together, feel really connected with one another.

“I…” you bottom lip quivers. It’s hard for you to admit even when it’s just the two of you. Your eyes close with frustration, but you can show him better than telling him. “Come here,” you whisper before latching your mouth onto his.

Taehyung steadies himself on his elbows. He moves enough to align himself without the assistance of your hands or his, resting his smooth cockhead at the dip of your pussy and right at your entrance. Taehyung rolls his hips into you, pressing his dick between your velvety folds with a growing smile on his lips. He lathers his cock up with your drenched pussy juices, rutting his cock against you before lifting just enough to align himself properly.

Shallow pressure taps and knocks at your entrance, teasing and begging to be let in. Taehyung hovers you as he molds his lips with yours. When he pulls back, he remains centimeters from your lips.

“Please, say it back,” he whispers in that pleading, soft baritone voice. It wrenches your heart, hearing how heartbreaking it sounds coming from his lips. It plucks every single one of your heart strings, yanking them off their cords and breaking them completely.

The light from the television turns off from being idle for far too long, darkening the room even more and leaving just the silent snowy landscape outside to illuminate the living room. You can still see thanks to the soft light, Taehyung’s features angling slightly more, but you can still see his beseeching eyes waiting for you to tell him those magic words.

“I love you, Taehyung,” you sigh, trying to hide the choked up sound threatening to come out of your throat. Your hand comes up to caress his cheek, and as you attempt to reassure him with the gentle gesture, you notice something wet on your finger.

Small, salty and sweet tears run down Taehyung’s face. You wipe them up carefully, not voicing your concern and halting your actions. Instead, you pull him back to you to lock your lips. Giving him everything in one whole meaningful kiss as you cradle his cheek in your palm.

Slowly, he glides himself in with a soft push. The stretch makes you tense momentarily, but the breathy moan that escapes your mouth gets eaten up by his. It’s a delicious feeling, this intrusion welcomed with anticipation and excitement. The pleasure causes him to snap his head to the side as he breathes a moan into your ear, sending chills down your spine as he spears his cock into your walls at a slow pace. It feels amazing for him as well.

Inch by inch you feel Taehyung sink further into you, touching all those areas on your walls that need to be touched. His cock fills you, widens your canal and leaves no room for extra space. Taehyung slots himself expectantly, nudging himself as deep as possible as your warm, slippery pussy hugs his dick with indefinite need. A yearning from missing the way his cock makes you feel.

“More,” your hands grope around his back and slide down to the small of his back. His skin is so unfairly smooth, you would love to run your fingers against it for eternity. You sigh again as your legs split as wide as they can go, pussy throbbing with intense vibrations. Edging closer and closer to snap that coil that’s been winded tight within, waiting to snap and spill all over. “I want more. I want you,” you emphasize by gripping the meat of his ass and pulling him into you.

“You have me,” he promises with kisses against your cheek. You can still hear that emotional twinge in his voice like an off-tune guitar. Where Taehyung’s emotions play too heavily on his heart and have a voice of their own. “Y/n, I’ve given you everything.”

Taehyung finally gives in to the pleasure of your whiny need. He bottoms out in one smooth motion, the seat of his lap sinking right against you. He drags his cock out at a leisurely pace, only to repeat his steady pace and plunge right back in. He’s experimental at first, the last thing he wants is for it to hurt if your body isn’t fully ready for his size. But you coo and squeak the sounds of satisfaction and pleasure in the air at every movement he makes, alerting him that he has the green light to do anything and everything.

“Thank you,” you whisper as you find his mouth again, kissing his tongue-licked lips. You hook your legs around his waist and begin to roll your hips up to match his actions, meeting him as his waist comes back down to you. “Can I keep you forever?”

“Whatever you want,” he breathes.

Your tongues dance behind another’s teeth, battling out this physical love as your bodies spiritually connect as much as possible. Taehyung continues to thrust his cock into you in a loving speed, nothing brutal or with vigor – just full blown love and adoration.

Both of your bodies hold an amazing amount of heat now. It’s the first time you actually notice it. You never thought you’d feel this safe in such an intimate position. Exposed completely, pinned completely. By the hands of someone else, and not controlled by your own decisions. Taehyung’s arms cage you in as if they’re 20 stories high in a castle built with the finest cemented bricks and barricades, guarded with a protective army and magical dragon ready to fry any intruder who dares step near.

“I want –” you gasp as Taehyung’s cock drags along a sensitive bit of your wall as he simultaneously rubs against your clit with his pelvis. A short, heavenly whine escapes your lips and you feel your body screaming at all ends. “– I'm close!”

Taehyung gently grips your jaw and tilts your head to face him as he continues to shallowly roll his hips into you, making sure to hit that spot again and again.

“Look at me,” he requests. “Don’t look away.”

He looks down at you like you’re everything he’s ever wished for. He loves you. He cares for you. He’s given you every single bit of him inside and out. He feels the most complete with you. Even if he doesn’t know how to tell you this every day. How he doesn’t know how to explain to you what he sees and feels. When words fail to describe the way every nerve and fiber in him dances in unison when he thinks about you. When he touches you. When he’s inside of you.

You smile softly. Taehyung truly is your weakness, an Achilles heel. You’ll do anything for him, all he needs to do is just ask. Blink… Breathe your way. You’ll be willing to do everything. If Taehyung ever asks you to jump, you’d respond ‘how high?’ He’s made his way under your skin, closer than you’ve ever been with anyone. Burrowed himself, anchoring his being to you like you’re his lifeforce – or is he yours?

Your eyes meet his, witnessing how wide his pupils have grown. Filled with a glaze of lust. Taehyung gauges your facial features as answers, rutting himself a bit harder into you. He notices how your blinks begin to falter, how your eyes threaten to roll back and how badly you want to close your eyes and relish in the pleasure. How your head wants to lean further back, pressing harder into the cushion below you as a slur of desperate whines begin to escape your throat. Indicating to him that he’s bringing you closer to the edge of release, inches close to being knocked off a cliff into an abyss of pleasure.

“T-Tae,” his name comes out as a plea. Your fist finds its way to the back of his head again as his hair slips through your fingers.

“If you can see how beautiful you look right now,” he shyly grins. He doesn’t tell you how his climax is racing with yours as well and he struggles to keep his composure until yours crosses the finish line first. “I just want to make you so happy, Y/n. I’ll keep giving you everything.”

Taehyung’s confessions make you feel embarrassed especially during such an act. So pleasurable and intense. It’s something you have to get used to because he’s notorious for admitting his love in ways like this. With you opened like a book; physically, mentally, and emotionally. Where it hits you the most, coming in with full force. It’s always hard for you to comprehend it – but during these times you never have the moments to actually ponder his words. You just need to listen to the words and hear his voice.

Accept it.

“I’m… Fuck…Tae,” you quickly gasp, trying to respond but you’re constantly trying to catch your breath. The rhythm of his thrusts increases in speed, he’s determined to draw that orgasm out from you. “I… I!”

Your body tenses and jolts at once, hips faltering but continue to stay open as your pussy eats up his cock. Sucking it in with a fluttering tempo as your orgasm crashes and derails off its tracks. It dives right into a pool, drenching every inch of you. Your pussy becomes noticeably more wet, squelching noises resounding in the air as Taehyung continues to roll into you. Perspiration trickles across your skin, trying to cool down your body from the immense surge of heat that blasts through you. Tears dripping from the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as you stare at Taehyung. Feeling nothing but weak under him as pleasure ricochets throughout your body.

“I have you,” he reassures. “Y/n, it’s ok. I have you even if you don’t realize it. Even if you don’t think you’ve given yourself to me. I’m right here.”

“I love you,” you whisper. Your voice cracks, choked up from the immense love and pleasure. How your body cannot cope and grasp reality. Where everything you felt control of has been stripped and taken by the hands of the man hovering above you.

“I love you, too,” he responds breathlessly. Desperately.

Taehyung still battles his own release even though his body acts on its own. Yet he continues to increase in speed, delivering his cock into your cunt repeatedly. Needy moans spill into your mouth when he gives you another kiss, wishing he could stop and wipe away every stray tear that has fallen from both you and him.

He pumps himself into you with one last burst of power, swelling his heart each second that passes by. Your drenched pussy makes it far too easy for him to slip and fall, ready to bust open and release every single drop in his tightening balls. Before his load is pulled by the trigger, he pulls out of you and buries his face into your neck. His body stalls as his fist energetically runs up and down his shaft. Taehyung’s hips shake above you as he rasps out the affirmation of his release into your skin, mouth parted and kissing in anguish.

Ropes of white cum spurt against your lower half and some against your shirt like paint being thrown onto a canvas, adding character and design. It’s warm and the subtle thump of it landing on your body makes it seem suddenly sexy.

Taehyung plants a kiss to your forehead, hovering there for a few brief moments as the two of you recollect your breaths and thoughts. You notice the arms holding him up shake with lack of strength and adrenaline pumping through him. He must be tired and you begin feeling guilty for Taehyung doing most of the work tonight.

You lightly push against his chest to indicate a change in position. He lifts, leans back enough to seat himself comfortable on the couch as his cock lays against his stomach, spent and softening. Following him, you move forward and swing a leg around him. At first you sit yourself over on his thighs, not wanting to add pressure to his cock which must be sensitive still. Taehyung looks dazed, momentarily confused as his stunned blinking speaks directly to you.

“Kiss me,” you request as your hands grip the bottom of your shirt and pull it above your head, tossing it on the ground behind you.

Your hands run up his chest to his neck, gently running them to cup either side of his face. You hold his head, admiring the tired and sleepy look on his features.

“Again?” he questions as he reluctantly rips his eyes away from gawking at your exposed chest.

“Yes.” You answer, even when you know he’s asking more than one question.

You lean in, feeling the way Taehyung’s palms skirt the meat of your thighs and guide themselves toward your ass. He pulls you closer to him, ignoring the swelling of his cock that increases in pressure. Your lips meet, feeling the smooth cupid's bow meet yours. It’s sweet, genuine. You pour everything you have in you into the kiss, somehow hoping he can feel all your emotions in one gesture.

“Thank you,” you smile into the kiss.

The digital clock behind you reads 00:24 am. Flurries continue to fall outside, adding on another blanket of fresh white snow. Your loveable dog rests in his own puppy-slumber within the house, you do hope he forgives the two of you. The television fails to revive for another film. You and Taehyung continue to envelope yourselves with another, tangling your limbs, bodies, and souls.

Being closer than you’ve ever been.

Moodboard by: @kth1

#00:00 #zero o'clock #bangtansorciere #dailydaegu #taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #taehyung pwp #kth1fics #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung fanfic #thebtswritersclub #bangtanarmynet #bts imagines #bts x reader #taehyung au

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elvirable · 7 months

Text

Ambrosia (Act 2)

[ Astarion x f!Reader ] | ao3 link

rating: explicit | word count: 3.9k | status: ongoing themes/tags: no smut this chapter, mainly fluff and angst, feelings realization, trust issues ofc, soulmates, fluff, written as a glimpse into his mind during each act

———–

For decades, men and woman succumbed to his charms; each wilting petal after petal, as if they were roses, against the grasp of his thorns. So, which one would you be: petal or thorn?

In other words: A delve into Astarion's thoughts, continuing the more he gets to know you. [Act 1 link]

———– A/N: thank you for all the supportive comments! you have no idea what it means to me (and also the imposter syndrome i have now lol). i apologize if you find any errors this chapter since i've been dealing with health issues as of late; also, i plan to post another chapter that deals with act 2 events.

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It was cliché, but Astarion had never trusted love — or really, any notion he had of it.

Delicate breaths, starry-eyed crooning, careful whispers; within a heartbeat, every precious detail could mutate into a terrifying, stinging sword. After all, who would know better than the one who held the blade?

Oh, how he wielded it exceptionally well. Syllables dripped like sugar from his tongue, and pretty prose hummed into bashful ears as second nature. To many chaste victims of his ardor, he was a captivating vision; a gentleman who stole them away with one well-planted kiss. As if each was a rose, petal after petal wilted against the grasp of his thorns.

Even without the blood staining his hands, he had also witnessed how others despicably wielded such power. A harsh aftertaste always lingered in its wake; whether it be couples bickering with poison on their tongues or the welts that peppered young, gentle faces after a drunken outing turned sour. Horrific renditions had darkened the world around him decade after decade — so anything that alluded to the pure reputation of love felt like an insulting, foolish fantasy.

So, which one would you be: petal or thorn?

The question plagued his thoughts since the moment he laid eyes on you. Beautiful and altogether lovely, especially as he later learned the touch of those careful hands and every tone hidden in your irises. Assuming you for a petal, he stumbled with doubt as his observations grew. For instance, you never initiated anything intimate aside from considerate conversation and, oftentimes, you had volunteered your neck for the sole reason it would improve his strength and mood. Where men and women in days past couldn't get enough of him, there you were: without an ounce of insecure obsession or malice on your lips, only serving to confound him more. Regardless, he had always prepared to expect that impending sting.

Only time could tell, of course — but it had never arrived.

Nothing about you was petal, thorn, or even a rose at all, from what he struggled to gather. He couldn’t decipher any hidden motive, and you were buoyant against his charms; he had had you lost in throes of blissful pleasure, but you never demanded more the next morning. Everything about you seemed so plain yet inexplicable, as if he couldn’t make head nor tail of what laid before him.

What he did know, however, was the captivating radiance that had had gradually engulfed him. Subtle it was when his smile piqued as he heard your laugh or when he began to learn your language well; the way your face contorted in provoked thought, or that your lips drew into a taut pout when nervousness preoccupied you.

It had dawned on him one late evening, realization cascading over him at all once, when he noticed the slightest shift in your glance. Lamplight flickered against your bare skin when he had asked a simple question.

“My favorite things? Well..,” you mused quietly. “I love lavender and a generous glass of tethyrian wine — oh, and the way the air smells before a thunderstorm.”

“And what would that be?” he had asked, half-lidded eyes studying your expressions.

“I’m not quite sure how to describe it,” a smile flitted across your beautiful face as if you could conjure the scent from memory. “It’s oddly warm and sweet, but.. refreshing.”

And Astarion thought that such a distinct description suited this newfound radiance; intricate, warm, and refreshingly natural.

Now that he had given it proper thought, it had been awhile since they had wine.

Earlier, on a whim, Astarion suggested they pocket every carafe they found that day. A resounding collective enthusiasm filled the group; recent days had been fraught and demanding to say the least, so it was needless to say such a suggestion was welcomed. And by their luck, they had stumbled upon the jackpot that afternoon: full-bodied wines, waterdhavian cheeses, and a wonderful curation of spiced meats — all within a deserted Zhentarim storehouse.

Two hours had barely passed when the entire camp had become boisterously inebriated. For once, other members embraced Gale’s attempts to break ground with superficial conversation starters such as vague inquiries into their past or favorite meals.

He had been surprised at the pleasant sensation, being surrounded by chattering comrades. Tales of their past and insights into their character had piqued his interest, inviting him to alter certain preconceived opinions. However, the person who interested him the most hadn’t uttered more than a few sentences.

While you had shared some casual anecdotes, relief had eased your face when Gale began to digress about the constellations freckling the sky. He was keen to notice such a successful evasion, as it was one he had practiced countless of times.

It wasn’t long before the others slinked into their tents, eager for the comfort of their beds. Astarion waited to hear the steady pace of Gale’s snoring to quietly gather the surroundings; only the two of you were left to the quiet of midnight, with embers of firelight keeping the warmth beneath the stars.

“I noticed,” he prompted, slowly turning his head towards you, “that you refrained from sharing your life ‘before the worm’ .”

An amused breath pushed from your nose, humored by the phrase the group had used earlier. Your brows then raised, smile on your rosy face as you matched his stare.

“You really want to know?”

“Only if you’ll oblige,” his tone was soft before he enunciated. “Do spare me the details, though, if it's all family excursions and Maxwell the family dog. ”

Your quiet chuckle faded off as you turned your gaze upwards, briefly leaving only the crackling embers to fill the air.

“Okay, okay — but it isn’t.. nice ,” you conceded with hesitant words.

And you had only summarized for about fifteen minutes, but each word was succinct and precise; about the darkness that felt forever, the silent spirals, and the long-gone silhouettes that had hurt you like it was nothing. As he attentively listened, he didn’t need further detail for his face to melt into a soft frown with shared understanding — Heavens, the heartache that coiled in his chest as he imagined all the tragedy you had endured as a little one; how a heavenly being could have such a haunted history.

“But you must think my woes pale in comparison,” you cleared your throat, in an attempt to act unbothered while turning your gaze to him, “.. given all you’ve shared with me.”

There was a softened, appreciative gaze that you both shared — where he felt as if you peered inside at the boy he had once been, and vice versa.

“Hardly, I was actually just thinking how nice it is that..” his voice was almost a whisper before he continued:

“Neither of us are alone anymore. We have… each other.”

The cost of freedom was always high, but would he be prepared to pay it?

And besides — hadn’t he paid enough already?

A nauseating trepidation rushed over him as Raphael’s voice echoed in his head; relentless and heavy, like the rain that quieted the camp that afternoon. Leadened with the weight of reality, Astarion sat motionless amongst the linens covering his bedroll. His pale hand was drawn to his face, running across his lips with an unease. The patter of rain against the tent was the only comfort he had in the heavy silence, for it was as if the Earth shared in his agony.

“The only missing ingredient is you.”

Ugh, Raphael’s smug grin curdled a disgusting frustration in his throat.

Fate had gifted him a blessing and a curse; what was once mere fantasy now brushed his fingertips. He knew the beginning and the inevitable end of this tale; the will of the Gods had swept him from those chambers and presented him his only chance to strike down Cazador. However, the middle had always been painfully opaque – until a deal with a devil made it tangible and clear. Such an undertaking called for impeccable execution, and countless possibilities haunted his mind. It was a terribly overwhelming feat to take on alone.

Yet, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t alone.

He had that tinkering brain of yours. Receptive to his every rant and rave, you were no stranger to a majority of his worries and frequently mellowed out the frenzied ones. There was structure to every word that left your mouth, and you never hesitated to lend your blade when he had made his decision. He had gradually grown to feel that he performed infinitely better when you were by side.

Though, while he previously would have never blinked an eye at sacrificing his fellow spawn — it was now your influence that caused him to grapple with uncertainty.

Sodden steps approached, rousing him from his silent ruminations.

“You’re.. quiet,” you observed, the tent rustling while you entered. “It’s unsettling, given how much you love to fuss about the rain.”

Silence hung briefly in the air, cushioned by the padding of rain. The warm smile on your lips faltered to a weaker one, the dread sullening his face evident.

“I wanted to ask about Cazador’s ritual. You must be thinking about it?”

“Oh, the thing that will decide my fate forever more?” His tone sharpened, anguish fizzling into frustration. An icy whiplash caused you to pause before settling beside him. He continued, shuffling to make space for you amongst the furs and pillows.

“ Yes , it has been on my mind – why?”

“I just want to know what your intentions are.”

“What? I’ve obviously thought about it – if I was the one who completed the ritual, I’d have such power. And I could walk in the sun without fear I’d turn into a mindflayer.”

“I don’t think you should do it,” your voice was solemn with caution, as if you sounded each word out carefully.

“A pity then,” his sneer fell from his tongue without thought, “that it’s not your decision to make.”

Pangs of remorse immediately crawled up his throat in the aftermath of his outburst, and he internally recoiled at himself. Catching the short flit of disappointment in your eyes slackened his jaw, rousing the contrition further. Every word escaped him while his marbled eyes flickered across your face; your lips were taut with dismay, brows giving way to disconcertion, until it eased into a vacant expression.

Rising onto your feet, you began to leave from his tent with a flippant wave.

“You’re right,” you muttered, dropping the subject. “I’ll see you later, if you’d like.”

All he could do was dwell in the silence as he watched you disappear into your own tent. Faster and heavier the rain fell, and he threw his head back with a miffed sigh. His lips pursed while he replayed the entire interaction in his head.

Of course, he had every reason to be angry and bothered. He should’ve been helped long ago, way before any of this had become the fate thrown onto him — but there was no proper excuse to flare up at you. You were the only person that had shown him any sympathy and loyalty.

Astarion knew you spoke with good reason, that your weary expression revealed you weighed your comment from private consideration. There was a vast cavern beneath those eyes, full of fierce emotions and earnest sincere spirits; eyes that did not judge, but watched and learned. Your presence alone was enough to soothe him, and its absence immense.

It had become so natural to remove his confident mask around you, he realized, especially now when he had let the ugly side slip.

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ninigummysmile · 1 year

Text

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲 - 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞́

Summary: Everyone thinks Rosé is naive, but you discover that she's not so innocent when you read her diary

Sub!Rosé x Dom!Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Warning: This story contains +18 content. It is not the responsibility of the author if minors read it.

Important: English is not my first language so, please, forgive me if there are any mistakes

Words: 1.700

You are not one of the most studious students, who gets the highest grades and who manages to answer all the exercises. But you don't do too badly either, you have relatively good grades, an average student and you do what you can to pass the year.

That's why you're not in Rosé's circle of friends. She is an exceptional student, who gets top marks in all subjects and is always praised by teachers as an example to be followed.

You've watched her from afar and like everyone else, you can deduce that she's a sweet, kind girl who tries to help however she can. And that's why there are people who take advantage of her, leaving her with a reputation for being naive and trusting others very easily.

Do you really believe that she is the exception to "the quiet ones are the worst", because as someone who doesn't go to parties, just studies and dedicates herself to it and usually doesn't react to certain mean jokes made in class can have a polluted mind?

You snap out of your daydream when the bell rings and slowly start to pack up your stuff, briefly saying goodbye to your friends, you get up and sling your bag over your back when you spot a small book under a chair. It probably fell when someone was putting his stuff away and didn't notice it missing.

You pick up the little book and on the first page it says “This diary belongs to Rosé ” in a pink glitter pen.

Thinking it disrespectful to pry into someone's life in this way, you keep the diary with the intention of returning it first thing tomorrow morning.

During the afternoon you tried everything in your power to forget about the damn diary kept in your backpack. What could be more in those pages? Probably just reports of what her days are like and important memories she doesn't want to forget...

You know you'll be invading her privacy if you read something that personal, and you feel bad just imagining yourself reading it. But you were always so curious, stubborn and that when you want something you go to the end. You decide that you will only read the first few pages with the certainty that there will be nothing dark and if you start reading something too intimate, you will stop immediately.

You place the diary on top of your bed and after long minutes staring at the cover, you open it again to the first page and read the small name again. “Rosé”. You're about to learn things about a classmate that you've never seen speak openly about herself to others.

Turning to the second page, the title “Thought 23” appears large. You realize that this must be the second version of a diary. In cursive it reads:

“Today she was biting the top of her pen while she was concentrating on paying attention in class and I couldn't help but imagine that same mouth biting my nipples.”

You stop for a second wide-eyed and trying to decipher if that's what you just read. Does Rosé, the innocent, sweet, kind girl just write that kind of thing when no one is around?

Your eyes automatically return to the paragraph and continue:

“With your hands trailing all over my body while your mouth plays with my breasts. I already imagined her beautiful lips on all parts of my body, especially on my pussy, but I can't deny that the sight of her swallowing my breasts must be magnificent.”

You swallow hard. So Rosé imagines herself with another girl? And it's not just thoughts, to begin with there are more than 20 and for her to write, they are more than imaginations, it's a desire that she unconsciously wants to really happen.

On the third page, a new title, “Thought 24” occupies the first lines.

“Y/n. It's all that occupies my mind. Y/n, Y/n and Y/n.”

That's what you read? Does Rosé think of you? Is the diary about you? Are these imaginations all about you?

“Y/n, who has a pretty face when she's trying to solve an exercise and I wonder if that's the same look she has when she's about to come. With her furrowed brows and a little pout that makes me want to kiss it away.”

Your breathing quickens and you are momentarily dizzy, absorbing that the diary concerns you. The book is not all complete, looking for the last filled page, you find “Thought 32”. You ponder whether from the beginning this is about you or what page it started from.

After reading everything, you don't know how you're going to return the lost diary, you don't even know if you can look her in the eyes and pretend you don't know anything.

The next morning, you hope to find the blonde hair in the hall before you enter the classroom because that way it will be less embarrassing. You catch them from afar and when she approaches you say “good morning”.

“Good morning” she replies with the same shyness as always and staring at the floor.

“Can we talk?” she nods and you walk into a room that you know won't be used during that time of day. You take the diary out of your bag and hold out your hand for her to take. “I found it yesterday under your chair, I believe it fell and you didn’t notice”

You can see her cheeks flush and her hands grab the material quickly putting it inside her bag. “You read?” her voice is weak and full of shame.

“No” you reply and take a deep breath. “Yes, I read it” you confess. “I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have, but my curiosity increased tenfold when I found out it was a diary!"

She doesn't know what to say, she just wants a big hole to form around her and swallow her whole. She mentally already makes plans to change schools and not need to look at you ever again. Maybe she'll even move out of town.

“You know…” you break the silence. “When I read all of this stuff you write about me, I couldn't deny how wet I was. I didn't know these thoughts would make me so excited”

You can see by her face that her mind is completely blank and you can't hold back a little laugh. “C’mon, baby. You're not going to play innocent now, are you? This same person standing here in front of me is the same person who wrote so many impure thoughts about me”

“I didn't think you'd ever know about all this” she says quietly, but you can hear her.

“But now I know. So, just ask me, your wish can come true”

“Serious?” you smile, she is very cute.

“All you ever had to do was ask me. You don't know it, but you always had me in the palm of your hand” you tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and slowly your lips meet. What started out as a gentle kiss quickly turns into a fierce and battle for dominance.

You separate with shortness of breath and you command “sit at the table”. She obeys and opens her legs for you to position yourself between them.

The buttons on her uniform are undone one by one and the fabric slides down her arms, your hands deftly unclasping her bra. “Is this how you imagined it?” you ask before biting down on one of her nipples and she throws her head back.

Trying to put as much of her breast in your mouth as possible, your hand that was playing with the other one starts to explore and slide over her body, exactly as described in the diary.

You make her lie down on the cold table and unzip her skirt, tossing it beside your feet. You see her stain marking her wet panties and without a second thought, your tongue licks her entrance over the thin fabric. She tries to suppress her moans by biting her hand, but you can still hear her whimpers as you circle her bundle of nerves.

You remove her panties and almost groan at the beautiful sight. “That's the most beautiful fucking pussy I've ever seen in my life”

Rosé can swear this is just another one of her dreams and that when she wakes up she'll have to relieve herself, but when your tongue teases her clit and her eyes roll back deliciously, she's sure this is really happening.

You can swear that you would spend hours eating her out, in all possible positions. She tastes sweet, her swollen clit makes you want to devour it, and her beautiful, tight hole contracting around nothing makes you want to make her come over and over again just to see her contracting around air, just asking for something to fill it more and more.

You insert two fingers and they are swallowed by her soft and tight walls. The sound it makes when you move them in and out is pornographic and addictive.

Your mouth goes back to sucking on the bundle of nerves and you're determined to make this the best orgasm she's ever had.

Her legs begin to shake violently and when her eyes slam shut, you know your reward is coming. When her juice comes into contact with your fingers, you help her through orgasm before pulling them out and cleaning them with all the thirst in the world. Her pussy twitching, begging to be filled again, almost makes you come back with your fingers, but you settle for cleaning it with your mouth, knowing she must be overstimulated.

You bite and mark her thigh as her breathing returns to normal and she can come back to reality.

“There you are” you comment helping her to sit down.

“That was amazing”

“Yeah? How did you imagine?”

“Even better” she says and you smile.

“Good, because you can expect more like these. I want to make every page of that a fact and not just a thought” you wink and help get her clothes back on.

#rosé park #rosé #park chaeyoung #bp rosé #kpop smut #blackpink #rosé smut #blackpink smut #ninigummysmilesmut #rosé x reader

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mamisfavmosher · 8 months

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Can i pls have poly judgement day x Fem reader where they see scars on her body from when she was younger?

of course! thanks for the request!

unveiled // poly!judgment day x fem!reader

warning: some graphic descriptions, suggestive language near the end

When I was younger, I was involved in a horrific car accident. There were shards of glass everywhere, I was covered in my own blood, and half the car had been smashed in. The paramedics had pulled me out of the car unconscious and I ended up stuck in the hospital for over a week. The accident could've brought death, but fortunately, it spared me with only a few large scars to bear its memory.

While I wasn't ashamed or embarrassed of these marks on my body, they weren't the first thing everyone knew about me. As a professional wrestler for the WWE, the main subject of most of my conversations were focused on my life now and my career. Only a few of my closest friends knew of the accident and my scars, and that's the way I typically prefer to keep it.

I joined The Judgment Day a few months ago and my career was only getting better. Learning a bunch of new techniques from each of the members had greatly increased the amount of victories I scored in the ring. After spending so much time with the four of them, our relationship became personal and intimate. It was never spoken of or declared as official, but we all knew that we loved each other and that was enough for us.

Now, as I sit in the locker room alone, trying on a new ring outfit, I felt a little anxious. The other members of the faction had never seen my scars and this outfit showed a little more skin than any of my others which made a few of the marks visible. I knew they wouldn't mind and I was certain they would never make me feel bad about them, but there is something so intimate about showing vulnerability that made me feel nauseous.

I nervously stood in front of the mirror, chewing on my lip as I heard a knock on the door. "Can I come in?" It was Rhea. I silently panicked and threw on an oversized t-shirt before rushing to open the door for her. "Hey, cutie." She smiled at me and kissed my forehead.

"Hi." I meekly said and closed the door behind her. Her eyebrows instantly furrowed at my small demeanor. She stayed next to me, her hands fiddling with the ends of the t-shirt.

"What's up with the shirt? I wanted to see your new gear." Rhea's tone was filled with excitement as she had played a part in the design of the outfit.

"Oh, umm-" I looked around the room to avoid her question, but I was saved by another knock on the door. Rushing over, I opened it to see the three men of the group. "Hi, guys." I weakly smiled at them and let them file into the locker room. They greeted me separately before relaxing onto the couch.

Rhea moved to stand next to the boys and looked at me expectantly. "So? Let us see the new gear!" She exclaimed and I started chewing on my lip again.

"I'm excited to see this! Did they add the little lace up section like I wanted?" Dom asked. I nodded and lifted up the shirt enough for him to see the laces, but nothing else.

"C'mon, lass. Take it off and let us get the full picture!" Finn said with a smirk and Damian agreed with him.

I sighed and looked down at my feet. The anxious feeling was at an all time high as I tried to steady my breathing. They're just marks on my body. The four of them get marks on their bodies all the time. Except their's aren't permanent.

"Babe? What's wrong?" Rhea was concerned. She walked over to me and softly caressed my cheek with her knuckles. I looked up at her and felt my breath halt.

I shook my head. "I don't think I'm ready yet." I could sense all of them being confused as I looked away.

"What do you mean, baby? What's going on?" Her hand gently gripped my jaw and turned my head to face her again. "Talk to us." I could tell she only wanted to help me.

I sighed and nervously looked at all of them. "I have scars... Like big, scary ones." My hands fisted the ends of the shirt I was wearing. "I just don't want you to think less of me when you see them." All of their faces fell when I said this.

"Amorcita..." Damian sighed. "Nothing in this world could make us think less of you. You're our precious girl." He held out his hand for me to take and I did. Pulling me onto his lap, he circled his arms around my waist and held me tight against him. "You're absolutely perfect in our eyes." He said with a kiss to my cheek.

"If it makes you feel any better, you don't have to show us if you don't want to." Dom mentioned. "You can wear one of your normal ring outfits until you're more comfortable." He suggested with a kind smile.

I looked down at my hands in my lap, thinking of my response. "I wanna show you guys. Just give me a minute." I stood up from Damian's lap and moved back into the open space of the room. "Maybe just... look away first?" I was nervous and it was extremely obvious, so they all complied with my wishes. Hesitantly, I peeled the shirt from my body and took a deep breath. "Umm, okay. You can look." I shifted my gaze to the side to avoid their stares.

Shuffling my feet back and forth, I grew uneasy from the lack of response. "That bad, huh?" I asked in disappointment.

"Are you kidding? You look insanely badass!" Dom exclaimed while walking over to me. I giggled at his reaction, but quickly focused back on the others and their responses.

"Love, you're still incredibly beautiful. And, I agree with Dom." Finn aimed a grin at me and I smiled back, chuckling at Dom who mumbled, "She looks like a warrior."

"So, you guys still think I'm pretty?" I cautiously asked.

"Absolutely, sweetheart. No doubt about that." Damian smirked at me and continued to rake his eyes over my figure.

"The prettiest." Rhea confirmed and moved toward me to give me a hug. "We love you, sweet girl. No matter what kind of scars you have. Not to mention, you're such a sexy little thing in this ring gear." She nipped at my neck eliciting a small gasp from me. "You'll have to wear this more often." She winked at me before kissing my head.

"Thanks, guys. I feel a little better now." I smiled at all of them.

"Just a little? Need us to show you how beautiful we think you are?" Dom asked with a suggestive tone, his hand snaking around my waist.

"Dom!" I playfully hit his chest and he laughed at my flustered state.

The rest of the night went amazingly well. I confidently went out into the ring in my new gear, not the slightest bit of anxiety creeping around me. I won my match and the rest of the group quickly took me back to the locker room to show me how proud they were of me.

#rhea ripley #wwe #the judgement day #dominik mysterio #finn balor #wwe superstars #damian priest #fanfiction #rhea ripley x reader #dominik mysterio x reader #finn balor x reader #damian priest x reader #wwe x reader #monday night raw #the judgment day x reader #poly!judgment day

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sleepyboywrites · 7 months

Note

Hiii, are you accepting requests? If the answer is yes then...

Would you consider writting a ticci toby x m! reader where cannibalism is their way of showing love? I dont mean full on k1lling and eating, perhaps biting and lick1ng blood...small bits but nothing too risky for anyone to die.

I'd love to see this, have a nice day/night :3333

Yes! oskgjrifjwi. You don't know how happy this makes me because what better way to get through hard times and back into writing than writing mild to heavy cannibalism. In this one mild, as you requested no death. :) Oh this one is going to get a bit saucy I already know, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry. Nothing too explicit but, I mean, it's basically impossible to write cannibalism in a way that isn't saucy, it's inherently an intimate act, and even more impossible when writing it between consenting parties.... *acting bewildered* who said that...anyways... I hope you like it, and I did a good job! -///-'' (after writing edit: I feel the need to mention I'm 18...so I guess I'm technically "allowed" to write/read stuff like this or more 'extreme' but hhhhh)

Ticci-Toby x cannibal! Male Reader - Eat Me~

Tw- Mild/Light Cannibalism, biting, drawing blood, gnawing on skin you know cannabilistic behaviors. Making out, neck action, praise.

It's not a secret that you bite, a many of your partners in your past were less than pleased when you'd give them a "love bite" that drew blood and even less pleased when you licked the wound clean instead of cleaning it with soap and water so you learned your lesson to let people know upfront that you're a biter and you bite hard.

It's become almost a joke to your current boyfriend and his odd character housemates. "Watch out he's a biter, it's his love language.~" A few scattered tics or whistles in his speech as he introduced you for the first time. It was a 'joke', you had been very good about not biting this far, scared that Toby was just another person who was 'into biting' that was only okay with it until you broke skin in which case they're cursing your name as they force you to drive them to the ER and never call you back.

"We'll believe it when we see it," was the general consensus, a certain blue hoodied individual raising his eyebrow at you, you had laughed awkwardly before Toby took you to his room.

It started out as a movie date, holed up in his room watching a movie he'd seen a thousand times and you'd never seen so he insisted that you watch it with him. You guys have been dating for a while, and you had successfully avoided biting him despite his protests and reassurance that it'd be okay, and he might not even feel it. You like Toby, love him even, and didn't want to wig him out.

Halfway through the movie Toby begins kissing your neck slowly moving up to your lips as he begins to make out with you. As things further heat up he begins kissing your neck again, you bury your head into his shoulder and as he riles you up further you find your teeth grazing against his neck at increasingly hard pressures. Tongue pressing against his skin as you taste him, wanting to taste more. You're breathing shakily and about to pull away when you feel his fingers entangled in your hair, "That's it sweetheart, you can do it, it's okay." Toby encourages softly as he pushes your head closer to his neck again, tilting his head slightly to give you better access, biting into your neck first, hard enough to draw blood and to show you it's okay. An action that throws your self control out the window as you bite hard enough to not only draw blood but leaves a small chunk of his skin in your mouth as well. "Attaboy.... there you go..." Toby hissed softly as you chewed and swallowed his skin. Still caressing the back of your head as you lean back in to lick the wound his blood dripping down your chin as you consume the sweet liquid.

"More?" You asked softly after pulling away. You had been so good holding back up till this point but all the times you held back were rushing to you and as you thought of all the times you didn't you craved more.

"Good boy for asking." Toby replied lifting your chin to look at him before kissing you, gently blood and saliva mixing as you made out for a little while more. Toby then shifted his shirt to expose the opposite shoulder as he began kissing your neck again. "Go for it."

With the green light you bit him again, this time only enough to draw prickles of blood as you lapped up the crimson liquid that beaded through a perfect impression of your teeth in his skin. Eternally pleased as Toby held you close as you trailed kisses up his neck before biting down again a little deeper for a more solid blood flow but still only enough to draw blood, licking the wounds and once you pulled back Toby was still there. Gazing lovingly at you before kissing you again.

A little while later once both of you had cooled down, were patched up, and rewatched the movie seeing as Toby got distracted by "The prettiest boy he's ever seen" and couldn't resist his urges and distracted you from it entirely the first time. The two of you had a conversation.

"You aren't angry at me? You liked it?" You ask him gently looking down into your lap half-expecting him to chew you up and kick you out.

"What? Oh you're talking about the biting. Oh you sweet stupid boy, yes, obviously I like it. In all honesty I've been waiting for it since our first 'I love you' because you described it as how you showed love. I was worried you didn't actually love me since you hadn't bit me yet." He pulls you close to him, your head resting on his chest. Allowing you to feel his sincerity through his heartbeat. "Part of the reason I made a move on you today to begin with... the thoughts kept jumbling around you and if you actually loved me until I physically couldn't think of anything but you."

"I swear I do! I just didn't want you to leave me or be scared off by my... odd acquired taste.." You muttered in response listening to his heartbeat contently as he laughs wholeheartedly.

"I know, you were gnawing on my fingers all movie, I know you love me. Also you don't need to hold back with me, just to say it plainly incase you were thinking of putting the lid back on that box because I'd prefer if you didn't." He said sincerely before letting the laugh and teasing consume his voice. "Yeah, mhm... You mean your cannabilistic tendencies?"

"Oh my god, shut up Tobes!" You laughed embarrassed before hiding your face in his chest again finding comfort in the hiccups and heaves as laughs as well as his heartbeat and breathing. "I'm not a full cannibal anyways, I'd never fully consume you."

"Liar you already have, at least five of my thoughts at all times include you and 5/10 times they all swirl to you anyways." He laughs as he kisses the top of your head. "Also eat me, if you want me to shut up that bad you're going to have to make me." He teased pulling away from you slightly as he smirks at you.

"Oh really, tough shot?" You lean up and start to kiss him again. The progression starts as short sweet kisses before you take his bottom lip in-between your teeth biting down until your canines break licking the blood that drips down his chin kissing him repeatedly and softly afterwards.

#ticci toby #creepypasta x male reader #cannibalistic #this ones kinda gorey #also kinda #nsft #just a bit #im sorry #creepypasta lime?#kinda #again #im so sorry #as always suggestions are welcome #creepypasta fluff?#maybe?#it's kinda soft

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an-angels-fury · 5 months

Text

My Adam Frankenstein Headcanons: The Creature being vulnerable with you 💜

Another post that was already rotting in my drafts.

Have fun! 😘🫶

P.S.: Forgive me for any grammar mistake. English's not my first language.

Warning(s): Touch-starved!Adam, self-depreciation, a perfect mix of angst and fluff, implied non-sexual nudity (kind of...)

At first, being intimate was a great challenge to Adam. As much as you both longed to be closer to each other, there was always that bad feeling haunting the back of his mind: the fear that, when he open up himself to you, the first moment your eyes fall upon the smallest imperfection, it wouldn't take longer for you to turn your back at him like everyone else.

After being abandoned by his own father, the man who gave him life, and all the other kinds of rejection he's been through in his short existence, which resulted in nothing but pain and heartbreak, the idea of finding anyone, specially someone so beautiful and kind like you, who genuinely cared about him - and even loved him - sounded as another sweet ilusion, something he was never meant to find.

You both had to put much effort to make this work. You always tried to be patient and understandable about his insecurities, especially after he finally reveal to you his story and his terrible experiences with human beings, but you can't deny this could be pretty frustrating sometimes.

There are times he thinks so low of himself that is hard to take him out of this dark hole. In these moments, he tries very hard to keep distance, to hide himself from you. A voice in his head convinces him he's no man at all, just a souless abomination from Hell unworthy from any kind of sympathy and love, from you or anyone. For his luck, you're always there to remind him that none of these things are true and never will be.

At the beginning, you were always the one who needed to start the first contact. Simple gestures like hugging, kissing, touching his face or just whispering some kind words to him, were enough to make him emotional to the point of breaking down. In these occasions, you just stayed there by his side, waiting until he calmed down and comforting him in the best way you could.

But with time, he learns to cope better with his emotions because he always feels embarassed for ruining such special moments between you and him, even when you assure him you have no problem with it. After a while, he finally starts to require your feelings, giving in to your sweet touches and genuine words of love. Later, he awkwardly tries to imitate the gestures you use with him: holding your hand gently, caressing your cheeks with his fingertips, even shyly touching his lips in your forhead.

When he realizes you don't even try to push him away from you, nor show any sign of repulse or disgust - actually you always make clear that you love it and want him closer - he becomes more confident in his actions and, day after day, gets more determinated to show how much he adores you and to do all he can to you never feel alone. As someone who knows very well how painful loneliness and isolation can be, he'd never want to make you go through this too. Never.

You still remember very well how awkward but sweet your first kiss was. It was fast, a simple touch of lips while Adam held your face in his hands. Even with his lack of experience, all the love put in the gesture couldn't be more real. You couldn't help but give a little laugh after open your eyes and see his pale face turning red and a shy smile coming to his face.

You love to fall asleep against his big warm chest. Nothing in this world makes you feel safer than hearing the calm rhythm of his heartbeat and having your small body being enveloped by his strong arms. He may deny it, but Adam loves to watch you sleep close to him. Something about your soft and relaxed expression, such state of vulnerability, how you demonstrate such trust on him not only touches his heart deeply, but awakes a deeper instict of protectiveness towards you. Just the idea of someone hurting or harming you in any way is enough to make his blood boil with furious rage.

After a while, he also lets himself relax around you and lay his head down on your chest to get some comfort too, especially after waking up, trembling and weeping, from a nightmare or being haunted by some horrible memory from his past. You'd never hesitate in putting his arms around him and kiss him all over his face until you feel his body ease and his breath slow down. It always breaks your heart to see him this way, but you still tries your best anyway. Also, you know very well that he'd do the same for you, with no doubt.

You already know about the conditions of Adam's conception. You already notice the red lines around his neck and the smaller ones in the pale skin of his face. So, one day, you gently ask him to see him as he is, but still make clear that he doesn't need to do it if he doesn't feel comfortable enough. You can see the hesitation and insecurity in his yellow eyes and you know that, in some dark and distant place of his mind, he still fears you'll abandon him when you finally realize he's not human at all. You caress his face and remind him how much you love him and that, whatever the choice he makes, you won't judge him. It takes him some time to consider the sincerity in your words, but, in the end, he finally gives in to his desire of making you happy.

When Adam finally reveals his body to you, his first instinct is to put his arms around his own body, ashamed, trying to hide himself from your view. But you don't give up, holding his hands gently and reminding him with your sweet voice that you'll always love him and that his physical appearence will never change that. Slowly, he puts his guard down once again and closes his eyes to not see the revulsion and disgust in your face. He is expecting a cry of horror, but the only sound his ears pick up are silence. And suddenly, a touch as soft as a feather in his chest, over the exact spot of his heartbeat.

He pays attention to the way you caress his skin, the feeling of your soft, delicate fingers tracing your scars, but what truly melts his heart and brings all his walls down is the spark of love that never leaves your eyes. Your touch, this kind of intimacy, feels like a blessing from Heaven he doesn't deserve, but longs for desperately. And with all the love you feel for him, how could you ever deny him anything?

#since I made my first adam HCs post many people asked me to post more about him so... I FINALLY DID 😄#frankenstein #mary shelley #mary shelly's frankenstein #frankenstein 2004 #hallmark frankenstein #frankenstein's creature #frankenstein's monster #adam frankenstein #frankenstein's creature x reader #frankenstein's monster x reader #adam frankenstein x reader #frankenstein's creature x you #frankenstein's monster x you #adam frankenstein x you #headcanons #frankenstein headcanons #my headcanons

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sunonyoreface · 1 year

Text

He Knows - Simon “Ghost” Riley Pt. 12

An: More fluff!

Hi there, this is a series about Simon Riley from COD. This series does not follow any of the established plots or timelines from the games. While I use the names of some characters, they are different from the ones in COD.

Summary: You’re held captive by 141 for reasons unknown.

Word count: 2300

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings: angst, military setting, explicit language, graphic depictions of violence, use of guns.

I wonder what Ghost thinks about as he lies beside me trying to will himself to sleep. Maybe about the men he abandoned because of my actions? Or the prisoners that the Ultranationalists released. Maybe he thinks about his friends and family at home and how he misses them. I’ll likely never know.

It's been over an hour since we were outside, yet neither of us has even remotely relaxed. I thought I’d fall asleep after watching the stars, but I can’t. My mind is wide awake and I can’t stop shaking. Ghost’s jacket helped, but we were lying out there for a long time. As I’ve learned, you lose body heat faster when you aren’t moving around in the cold.

Ghost’s henley and jeans are draped across the wood stove to dry. He lays across from me in just his long underwear and a black undershirt. The dark long johns make it look like he’s wearing a pair of leggings. It’s mildly amusing, but I don’t dare let on. He has an intricate sleeve tattooed up his arm and around his shoulder, spanning halfway across his chest. I want a closer look without being obvious.

It’s strange seeing him out of uniform. Normally the bulletproof tactical vest is strapped on over top of a bulky parka meant to withstand the deadly arctic conditions. But it doesn’t stop there. His belt also holds a variety of tools and weapons. A thigh holster and several other necessities are strapped to his legs on top of thick ski pants. Ghost must carry close to fifty pounds of additional gear every day, not including the helmet and night vision lens; it makes his already large figure even more intimidating. So to see him lying in bed wearing none of it is strangely intimate.

“Go to sleep,” orders the deep voice beside me. I look up at Ghost who is already staring at me. I wonder how long he was watching before he decided to say something. Did he notice my wandering eyes?

“You’re not sleeping either,” my voice is strained after the day’s events. I really should be tired, but I just can’t shut off. Maybe it's adrenaline.

“Nothing new,” he sighs, confirming my suspicions. He doesn’t seem like the type of person who rests easily.

I try and close my eyes again, but after just minutes, I know it’s no use.

“I can’t,” I whisper.

“You’re not even trying,” he says.

“I was,” I fist the edge of one of the blankets and wrap it in closer, hoping it’ll warm me up. For some reason, I feel colder now than when we were outside.

“My jacket, my blankets, and a fire, yet you’re still shaking,” Ghost tuts.

“I’m not wearing your jacket anymore,” I try to defend myself, but he’s right. Maybe it’s a circulation problem. Or the temperature isn’t the only reason I’m shaking.

We’re both silent for another while longer until I speak again. “Did you know any of the men?” I ask and almost don’t expect him to answer me. I almost don’t want him to answer me. Guilt weighs on the back of my mind.

“I did,” he understands my question immediately as looks at me from under his black balaclava. I try and read his expression, but I can’t see enough of his face. Their blood is on my hands.

“I’m sorry,” my words are barely audible. I feel an invisible pressure weigh me down. No matter what action I took, someone was going to end up dead. Now there are men on both sides who’re caught up in my indecisiveness.

Simon sighs, “This is so much larger than you are, y/n,” his words are ambiguous but strangely therapeutic. He shifts in bed, placing an arm under his head for support while his other arm, the one with the tattoos, rests on the mattress in the space between us.

“Yet, they’re dead,” I sigh. “And I’m not.”

“They knew the risks,” he says. Ghost’s tone isn’t cold or condescending. His thoughts almost sound far away. I wonder how many horrible things he justifies with that simple phrase. “You’ll rot your brain if you keep thinking like that,” but I’m afraid I already have.

“Doesn’t change anything,”

“They died where they belonged, serving a purpose they believed in,” he says.

“What do you believe in, Simon?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he says with finality.

“Nothing?”

“This world crushes belief,” he murmurs almost as if he’s talking to himself. His words hang in the thick, viscous air. For a moment, it feels hard to breathe.

“I think there’s still good out there,” I search his dark eyes. There’s a part of him, somewhere deep within the cavities of his heart, that has been irrevocably injured. “There are people with good hearts who try their hardest to leave the world a little better than they entered it.”

“Few and far in between,” he says.

It stays quiet for a long time with just the sounds of the crackling fire in the background. Part of me thinks I could live here for a long time. Away from all my problems where I could watch the stars every night.

My hands and feet are still cold to the touch. I feel his eyes on my back as I get up from the bed to take a seat in front of the stove. I lift the metal lever to open the tiny hatch and bask in the outflowing warmth of the fire. It feels like a tight hug from a friend you haven’t seen in ages. Like a cup of hot coffee settling in your stomach on a frigid morning. I rest my head on my knees and finally start to feel the exhaustion of the day take its toll. It has to be sometime after three, maybe even later. I remember someone once telling me nothing good happens after midnight. Something switches. Things that shouldn’t happen, do. Boundaries become blurred. My eyes start to droop and my awareness of the room fades from consciousness.

“Come here,” Ghost’s soft order reels me in.

“Why?” I turn to see him sitting up so he can get a better view.

“Just come here,” there’s a rasp to Ghost’s voice. “Bring my shirt.”

I glance at the shirt draped across the stove. A ball of nervousness begins to form in my chest. My heart starts to beat faster. I feel the texture of his thick shirt between my hands. It’s a cotton mixture that’s surprisingly soft. With one knee on the mattress near his feet, I pass the shirt to his extended hand. Unlike his other black clothes, the henley is a dark olive. As Ghost raises his arms to slip it on, his undershirt inches above his waist, exposing a light patch of skin and the sharp edge of a defined v-line. I hastily tear my eyes away in fear of getting caught – of what would happen if I was caught. Of what I would want to happen.

When I lie down again, I can feel the heat radiating off Ghost. Our legs are just inches from touching and part of me wants to test how close I can get before he’ll move away.

Instead, Ghost shifts closer as he motions to my hand.

“Let me see,” he says, grabbing my tight fist. “Look at your hands, y/n, they’re red,” his tone is slightly condescending as if to tell me I should’ve known better than to go outside without gloves, but more than anything, it’s concerned.

“They’re fine,” yet I release the tight fists so he can get a better look. His rough thumb brushes thoughtfully over my fingers. There’s no real harm done. I don’t have frostbite and still have ten of them. They’re just cold.

“You always say that,” he mutters while glancing down. I look from our hands to his eyes, yet they don’t meet. Do I always say that?

“And I’m always fine,” I say. I’m still here, aren’t I?

Ghost’s hands are wide and thick, yet he has long fingers that can almost be described as nimble. His skin is dry and calloused and if I had hand lotion or any type of lotion, I’d offer it to him. But they’re not in the state they’re in because of lack of care. His nails are well kept and he evidently values cleanliness, probably because of the chance of infection should he have to treat one of his injuries. It’s simply because of the amount of gruelling physical labour he is asked to do each day. His body takes the brunt of the damage, which is evident in his bruised knuckles and the various scars littering his skin.

“What about you?” I ask, turning our hands so mine are now holding his.

“What about me?”

“Your knuckles look sore,”

“They are sore,” Ghost’s blunt. “And in two days they’ll be fine. And in another two they’ll be sore again,” The way it comes off is completely unbothered, as though that’s just how life is. Like bruised knuckles will be the least of his worries.

“Fair enough,” I sigh, as I roll onto my back, pulling away my hands. My eyes feel heavy. A comfortable silence once again begins to settle over us and is once again disrupted by the same man.

“Come here, y/n,” he murmurs, looking at me through half-lidded eyes as though I didn’t follow his orders from before close enough.

“I am here,” my voice is weary. He just barely shakes his head.

“Not what I mean,” I know. I know, but I’m also not sure what he intends. I want to. Oh God do I want to. Every fibre in my body longs to crawl into his arms and let him hold me. But I don’t know if that’s what he’s implying. I search his eyes for any sign of deceit. Because as much as I hate to admit it, I have no power here. He is in complete control.

It’s now he notices my hesitancy.

“No one can get to you,”

It’s a nice sentiment, but not what I’m worried about. I don’t have to say anything. Ghost sees it on my face.

“You’re safe, y/n,”

“Am I?”

He reaches under his pillow and pulls out a switchblade. “Here,” he presses it into the palm of my hand. “If you need to, stick it to my neck and press the button,” once I get past my initial shock, I realize he’s being genuine.

The thing is, even with a knife, I’d lose to Ghost in seconds. He doesn’t need guns or knives to be considered armed and dangerous. The man himself is a weapon. I’ve watched him break men’s bones with just his hands. I can’t imagine what’d he’d be capable of doing to me. I’d be overpowered immediately. A knife to his neck would only slow him down momentarily. As he holds the other end of the blade in my hand, I know he thinks about this too.

“What else is under there?” I ask. “A gun?”

“Course not,” he says a little too quickly, but I’d be more surprised if there wasn’t one.

“Why are you being nice to me?” my tired eyes narrow with suspicion.

“Don’t start this,” he says, yet I can’t help but wonder. How does he benefit here?

“Okay,” I nod and repeat the unsteady word to myself once more before shifting closer.

Ghost brushes my hair out of the way as he pulls me flush against his hard chest. I feel my heart hammer in my throat as his strong arm wraps around my side. I feel even smaller pressed into his large, hard frame. His thumb soothingly rubs back and forth along the side of my ribs. His legs brush against the back of mine and with every deep breath he takes, I feel his chest press into my skin. I feel safe, but not comfortable.

Without warning, I shift around so I’m now facing Ghost as he holds me.

As I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck, his soft, knit balaclava rubs against my cheek and forehead. I fist his henley and pull myself closer. When I breathe in, I can smell the familiar scent of gunpowder that I’ve learned to associate with him, but also a deep earthy scent that makes me want to relax more with each breath. At the same time, I feel his arms wrap around my back and pull me in. Our legs are threaded together and his thick thighs press against my own like a weighted blanket. A gentle hand pets the back of my head once, brushing my hair out of the way, before moving to my lower back. Ghost’s hand absentmindedly grazes up and down the small of my back as his breathing becomes slower and deeper.

As I lay in this deadly man’s arms – a man who has killed hundreds of people without any remorse and will likely kill hundreds, if not thousands more – I realize that I’ve never felt safer anywhere else. Every other danger in the world ceases to exist next to him. The only person who was angry enough at me for violence holds me close to his chest with his head resting on mine. Right now I feel forgiven for my mistakes and actions. I feel cared for and wanted. The crackling of the fire dies down and my breathing deepens. All I hear are Ghost’s steady breaths and the strong thrumming of his heart against his ribcage. Steady and strong. It beats like a workhorse's hooves against freshly tilled earth. There’s a resoluteness to its strength.

As I drift off into a warm slumber, my ears pick up on one last barely audible phrase from beneath the balaclava.

“You’re one of the few.”

PT 13: https://at.tumblr.com/sunonyoreface/he-knows-simon-ghost-riley-pt-13/b9zr2tyv0iw7

#he knows #COD MW2 #cod imagine #cod ghost #MW2 #MWII #mw2 imagine #mw2 fanfic #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley #ghost imagine #GHOST FLUFF #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine

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alicerosejensen · 1 year

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Is there anyway we can see a head canon of Leon’s girlfriend learning about Ada and Claire? Would she feel insecure about them thinking ‘what does he see in me when he’s worked with someone who is way stronger than I am?’

Have a lovely day!

Ada and Claire are beautiful! Why are they so adorable? I'm complex 🤣

khl-khl, attention! I usually write texts only in my native language, but come on! You can throw tomatoes at me. This is a full-fledged text in English, written with the help of third-party Internet resources. There is a second part in my native language, and it seems to me that it is written much better (because it always happens, damn it!) I really liked this question, and I decided to give it such an unusual answer.

You may or may not like it. In any case, I like this work in the original language. (that is, my native).

So here's another warning: Angst, distrust of the partner, the reader does not want to tell Leon about his suspicions, It is implied that the reader has good parents, angst with an uncertain ending, parting, grooming, Age Difference,

You've never been jealous. In fact, you have decided to trust your partner, as your parents taught you, because you cannot build a family without trust. Even if there were no plans for a wedding, children or something like that, you still wanted to believe Leon. All your friends and family agreed that you are very beautiful. Her father's only daughter (his most beloved) and mother's little diamond. Therefore, problems with self-esteem almost never affected you. What are the problems if you were literally cherished and adored?

And Leon loved you, too… Well, that's what you thought.

Expensive gifts, attention, care. He even took you on a two-week cruise until he got a call from work, but you still had a good time together. Everything was wonderful!

You told him about your success in college, about your family, listened to his jokes and laughed at them. Hell, he even taught you how to swim when he found out why you persistently don't go into the water on a summer day with others.

Sometimes it seemed that he simply could not be so perfect! That's why your friend Cary kept telling you to be careful with him. In general, she rightly believed that you were just a fool who fell in love with a man who just needed a young body for sex, and his gifts and attention were nothing more than a bribe.

Indeed, unlike your frankness with him, Leon himself was a very secretive person. You tried to ask him about his work, to which he replied sternly, but with a slight smile, that it was "classified" by his family (again, he hated this topic and avoided it in every possible way, preferring to listen to you). Sometimes it seemed that all you knew about him was that he liked leather jackets, rock, motorcycles and your food.

it wasn't fair. And Cary's suspicions have also begun to creep into your head.

Even though he introduced you to Claire. A chance meeting in a cafe, but you liked this girl. She was quite sharp, but very friendly, you might even think that she and Leon could have met before, but Leon just laughed and replied: “Just friends. We had an incident with her in the past - and you believed him. Sometimes you corresponded with each other, you could have a coffee if you accidentally ran into a coffee shop and ran into her. She even invited you and Leon to her birthday party.

She seems to like you too. And if not, then at least you didn't conflict. All you knew about her and Leon was that they were close friends.

Sometimes you could catch meaningful glances between them, but they were hardly intimate, although Carey's words that you were "fresh meat for fucking" were increasingly spinning in your head.

And you started to feel terrible, constantly thinking about it.

Then for the first time there came a moment when you felt insecure. Yes, college guys were still trying to ask you out with subtle compliments, but you were so focused on this thought that you didn't notice how you started to move away from your boyfriend.

You weren't tall enough without a steady job. Damn it, you've only been doing fitness once in a while! But it is unlikely that you would be able to fully stand up for yourself if the situation with the stupid courtship of peers was not in your favor. Anyway, Claire, you've been losing in a lot of ways. Starting from beauty and ending with personal qualities. Dear TerraSave employee, providing all kinds of humanitarian assistance to victims or… student of the College of Arts and Culture. You didn't suffer from excessive humanism towards strangers, while Leon was trying to save everyone and everything.

Oh, yes, one more fact: Leon dreamed of becoming a policeman and even worked for one day. Now nothing is missing for sure! He knew everything about you, and you knew almost nothing.

-"Please, baby, open your eyes! He doesn't care about your high feelings. Shit, you have a wonderful father, why the fuck did you fall in love with an older man?!"

You were trembling with terror. But you damn well want to be with him! You love him, even if he leaves home for a long time! Even if you didn't have a common future! You were the place he wanted to go back to after his shitty job. Leon himself admitted that your appearance in his life was the only good thing. Could he be lying? A romantic dinner together in an Italian restaurant did not inspire any faith in his words about love and they remained unanswered, which is why Leon seemed worried about your detachment from him

- "Did something happen?"

LOVE.

Where could you find the strength to look at him? Crumpled, torn by uncertainty feelings slowly turned into fragments. But some part of you wanted to erase your memory to forget about all suspicions.

You have not seen all the facets of Leon, blindly admiring his bottomless blue eyes and diving into the pool of love. Knowing that after this Garden of Eden you will have to pick yourself up piece.

The body is wrapped in sharp thorns, shackles, it's worth thinking about what Leon himself really thought to you. Were you an easily accessible fool for him to fuck or pure love?

You keep thinking, trying to find the answer in his behavior, words or movements, instead of asking directly, and unfortunately for some reason your clouded brain finds the very answer that you were so afraid of.

And then you met her…

The mystery woman in red. She was peerless. Like an actress in a Hollywood movie that everyone is crazy about. Men lose their heads from such, because they are incomparable in everything, and the way Leon looked after her finally broke your heart.

Ada Wong.

A woman worth killing for. As ridiculous as it may sound, it was the real truth. Tears stung your eyes, so you tried to brush them away faster before someone noticed them. And mentally scolded herself.

Everything Carey said was true! What were you even thinking about when you gave him your phone number in that crappy bar?!

"The part of you that you can never give up"

One message. One broken love.

You put Leon's phone back on the table when the screen goes blank, leaving the message unread. It seems that the body freezes when you secretly watch him write an answer with a sweet smile. It hurts so much. But the bitter truth is better than endless sweet lies.

Fingers are freezing. All you want at this moment is to run away and hide from the pain caused by this person. Barefoot, in the rain, not taking apart the road until you find some safe haven where you could heal from the deep wounds inflicted.

At this very moment you need shelter.

Need another way.

Because you're ready to water the whole world with your tears. Everything is covered in the dust of false promises, and from the feeling that you were superfluous in his life, your eyes went out in one fucking second.

How do I get out of this hole now? Why were you so stupid?

Leon sees your wet cheeks together with complete detachment, as if you are somewhere in prostration, when in fact Armageddon is happening inside. He puts the phone down after sending a few more messages to this woman, for whom you have absolutely no hatred. She's beautiful. And you'll never be half that.

"Angel, what's the matter?" Leon squats down, trying to grab the icy palms of his beloved, as he said…

Or lied.

He was your sun, but his rays never fell on you.

They were meant for Ada, whose compact you found this morning when you were dusting the bedside table. If it meant nothing to him, then Leon would never have kept it in such a place. Having put the object in its place, you understood everything and accepted the truth. And yet it hurts.

You didn't demand answers and you didn't whine like a dog that was locked under the door. It would be preferable to pull the trigger. So you get up from the sofa, throwing a hasty "I need fresh air" without even looking at him.

Run.

Run away from him.

Leon grabs your hands, reminding you that it's night outside, but you just want to disappear. It turns into a kind of fight, during which your words push him away.

"Don't fucking touch me!"

This discouraged him, but gave you a chance to escape, leaving all belongings in the apartment. Torn to shreds, repeating to herself one thing: "Breathe." In some shorts and a T-shirt, in old (favorite) sneakers, run through the streets wet from the rain in a coat that is probably already wet. It seemed that your lungs were ready to burst from the endless running, but you ran as if you were afraid that he would soon catch up with you.

You'll never be like Claire!

Moreover, you are not even a faded shadow of Ada Wong, but you need a place where you could stay. A person who will take you by the hand and say, "There is no pain that has no end. Everything will pass, and you will be alive again."

You need to go home.

Leon was left behind. He's left somewhere in his apartment with messages from Ada and her compact on the bedside table, but you'll come home tired, and there's a good old cat waiting for you. Leon won't find you until you're strong enough to face him again. And you will never heal yourself with the help of other people, as he did with himself using you.

You're not Ada Wong.

You're not the fearless Claire Redfield.

No belongings, no phone… after a cold night, because of which a cold caught your throat. Your friend invited you to her house for the night when you told her about everything, but you never broke up with your boyfriend. While she endlessly reprimanded something for your stupid infatuation, you drank hot tea, thinking only about why your love was not enough. Was it because Kennedy wanted to make you Ada's replacement? But you didn't hate him. Not him, not Claire, not even Ada.

Emotional blackmail that you have arranged for yourself. Did you run away penniless, almost naked, without means of communication, hoping for luck? Now you haven't thought about whether Leon wants to find you. Suddenly he asks people which way a crazy girl in just shorts and a T-shirt ran? Or did he try to call you, immediately realizing that the phone was left somewhere near him?

To tell the truth, you are proud of yourself. A little bit. Anger will not fill the remnants of the heart, and you believe that one day it will blossom again with renewed vigor, retaining its light. He only needs a little time and warmth.

You're not Ada Wong.

You don't look like her.

You're just a heartbroken student returning home to a man with a thick gray beard whose biceps are bigger than Leon's. With a warm smile and the smell of engine oil . Into a house filled with your childhood photos, and into an old room that is still clean, as if it had never been left.

You'll be back at college in a month or two. Pick up your stuff from Leon's apartment, where you tell him you're not a piece of cake. Maybe now you just need the strength to gather the courage and tell Leon that you are not going to replace the girl in red. After all, your self-esteem is not so bad, no matter how low it has fallen over the past few weeks of mental anguish.

Leon was and will be an important episode in your life, but your mother said that you were born for love, not for replacement.

Maybe there will be a goodbye kiss but right now you don't want to think how much he's going crazy with worry not knowing where you are and what's with you.

#leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #angst #reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon Kennedy resident evil #resident evil fanfiction

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cascade05 · 1 year

Text

DIY (Independent S/O Idea)

I see so many posts about Bakugo who takes care of his s/o and it’s cute and nice, but what if he was dating or married to someone who liked being alone and was used to taking care of themselves?

Warnings : Some language, unedited, also this is way longer than I thought it was gonna be, reader has a big-ass dog, ummmmmm... think that's it

☾ This is a little self-indulgent so bare with me ☽

So, before meeting Bakugo you lived alone. Maybe you had a dog or maybe you had a cat or a lizard, I dunno. Point is, you lived alone. And you liked it that way. You had grown up in a pretty full house without a moment of peace—which was fun and enjoyable sometimes—so, growing up, you knew you never wanted to live with another person EVER again. That also meant you wanted zero romantic relationships because no.

A romantic relationship involves two people who were willing to give to each other. Be it time, energy, or just a listening ear, they would give of themselves to their loved one all because they, well, loved them. You could give. You were very good at giving. Ever since you were a young, blubbering toddler, you gave things to others because it made you feel good to know they were happy. When you are older, you gave other tings—time, energy, money—you were very good at giving.

It was the taking part of the equation—the asking for help and support and love part—that you knew you'd struggle with. People said you could learn but you didn't want to. As a kid, you had spent your whole life giving, but people rarely gave things to you—toys, little gifts, sure. You got those things often enough, but the deeper things in life? The things that were a little harder to give? A listening ear? Empathy? Patience? Support? You didn't have a lot of that. So, you gave that to yourself the best you could because you were good at giving.

You were more independent than most and you were happy like that. You didn't want to learn how to take because you were more than content being by yourself, thinking by yourself, living for yourself... That sort of thing wouldn't be fair for your s/o and it wasn't like you wanted an intimate relationship so you remained single—a virgin in every physical sense of the word.

Then, he showed up. (Hehehehehehehehhehehehehe)

It was a normal evening for you. Nothing out of the ordinary was going on, you didn't feel weird, and your giant fluffy dog (self-indulgent, I know 😔) was lounging about at your feet while you worked. Normal. Your online business was going very well—yes, I'm talking entrepreneur kind of independent—and the ac was blowing the perfect temperature so things were normal—they were especially good, actually.

Then, he showed up.

Out of the blue, something crashed into your house—through your bedroom balcony, it sounded like. Your dog (Imma name him Biji (Short for Bijronson)—self-indulgent—but you can name him—or her—whatever, I guess...) Anyway, your dog shot up from his spot because of course he did, you did too. He trotted to the bedroom door—not a happy trot, but a cautious, purposeful one—and stood at it, watching whatever was going on.

You arrived next, eyes widening at the whole-ass man who fell into your apartment—into your life but you didn't know that yet. You knew who he was. Of course you knew who he was. The number two hero was a very noticeable man. He was large, a foot taller than you at least. His shoulder width was ridiculous and only enhanced by his small waste. Such a snatched thing. Truly a Doritos shape worthy of nacho cheese dreams. (Nacho cheese Doritos are mvp, don't fight me)

Then there was his stupidly handsome face. A scar ran down the right of it—from the edge of his hairline down to his upper neck. His light blond eyebrow was missing in the middle and his crimson eye was a little milky. He wasn't completely blind in it, but rumor said he would be soon. Most people said it wasn't a pretty sight but you always disagreed. Not only did it look badass, but it proved he went to hell and was strong enough to come back. Which was cool as fuck.

He was awesome—maybe a little bit of a jerk but you didn't need to like him as a person because you didn't know him a just a person. You knew him as Dynamight. As a hero, and he was a damn good hero. More often than not you would joke with your closest friends saying “If he's not Dynamight, I don't want it.“

“Dynamight is the bar.“

“He has to at least be six-foot Dynamight stature before I'll even think about it.“

Silly shit like that—all of which was just that. Silly. A joke. Never in a million years would you want to date Dynamight or any of the other pros you joked about. Your friends knew that. Everyone would share similar jokes before consoling their poor husbands or wives or boos or whatever because it was just a silly thing. You wouldn't even call what you had a celebrity crush. Dynamight and his companions were hot, attractive people. Simple as that. You appreciated the pictures, kay. And what they did for Japan, of fucking course.

We're getting off topic though. What was the topic again? Oh, right.

Dynamight was in your bedroom. On your bed. Your broken bed, might I add. All while you stood wide-eyed in your doorway, frozen as if you were the one who barged in on him. Then he slowly sat up, running a gloved hand through his sooty ash-blond spikes to rid it of glass. It pulled you out of your shocked state. It was then you realized Biji was barking and had been for awhile.

You moved to grab his collar just as the man stood up from his spot. You had been trying to sush your dog but those attempts came to a halt when you saw the condition the hero was in. Thankfully, it didn't seem life-threatening but, then again, you weren't a doctor and that shit looked like it hurted.

“Uh,“ you began, unsure of how to proceed.

The man looked around your room with what looked like disgust and you almost wanted to mouth off at him for the audacity before you realized he wasn't disgusted the dorky pictures of you and loved ones pasted on your dark walls. He looked confused. He turned around in your room a few times, eyeing the place and muttering confused curses. It was then you began to wonder how hard he had hit his pretty head.

You moved to straddle your strong dog who hadn't stopped barking completely but had calmed just a little. He was still on guard but you weren't scared—he sensed that.

“Hey, Mr—“ —were you supposed to say mr— “Dynamight?“

He looked at you. It was a sharp, unimpressed look and you wondered why until you saw his eyes dropped to your ramen pajama pants. The ones that said, “send noods.“ Not that they were embarrassing at all, you told yourself.

The man gave you and your barking companion a once over, gaze lingering on the large black and white dog you were effectively holding back. He looked tired, you noticed. Dynamight clicked his tongue before turning around and walking towards the sizable hole in your glass doors. “Wrong apartment,“ he mumbled and you gaped.

Ruining your beautiful and lovely bed because he was defending citizens from villains was one thing. You could let it pass cause he had a lot more shit to deal with than your glass-ridden floors and broken wall. His agency would cover the damages anyways.

Ruining your shit because he blasted his hot ass into the wrong apartment, however, was a whole other thing. Would he finance the repairs you needed to make? You hoped so but you didn't know, it wasn't during a fight, after all. No, he wasn't leaving until he promised his agency would take care of it. And until he recovered a little because he looked very unsteady on his feet.

“You're leaving?“ was your stupid, shocked question.

He scoffed. You narrowed your eyes at his broad back. Yes, you were enjoying the view and you would've enjoyed it a hell of a lot more if his torn shirt didn't show off his numerous gashes and cuts. Suddenly, you didn't feel like bitching to him about your apartment—you would make him pay for it, but later.

The crunching of glass caught your attention and you realized he really was leaving like that. “Hey, you're hurt,“ you said dumbly because you weren't really sure how to convince him to stay long enough for you to help.

“No shit,“ was his rude—but fair—response.

You huffed in annoyance. At least Biji's barking had stopped and he seemed calmer, albeit tense. Dynamight crashed into the wrong apartment, right? So he was aiming for an apartment in the complex, right? “You're apartment's in this building? Right?“

He said nothing but he didn't need to because you could see the gears in his head turning—could see the realization in his crimson eye. He knew what you were about to suggest but you said it anyway. “Just leave out the door—the actual door, not the one you DIYd,“ you said obviously, nodding to the broken glass.

He looked at said DIY door and grumbled something under his breath. Then he turned to face you. You rose a brow at his glare. It was his turn to nudge his head and he gestured it to your dog. “That flea-bag gonna let me through?“

“His name is Biji—“ “I don't give a fuck—“ “—and he might let you through, so long as you say please.“

The word please must've kickstarted an allergic reaction of some kind because Dynamight's face scrunched up like he swallowed piss. It was oddly adorable and you mentally nodded in satisfaction. If only he made such a face where cameras could catch and immortalize it.

“The hell is wrong with you? You think just cause I'm in your apartment you can order me around?!“

He was starting to raise his voice. Your hold tightened on Biji's collar as the dog began barking again. You took a deep breath in an effort to prevent your own anger from spilling out. “Yes,“ you damn near hissed, tugging Biji back because he was pulling.

Dynamight did not appreciate the answer but you didn't give him a second to bitch about it. “Might I remind you of how you barged in here out of nowhere. I'm not entirely calm and neither is he so, if you want him to be civil, say. Fucking. Please.“

“Be friendly,“ was really what you were telling him. He didn't look like he liked the idea, so you helped him out. “You ruined my door, broke my bed—which people don't get to do until after they take me out for dinner, by the way—“ —he scrunched his face again and you wanted to laugh— “and now I get to clean all that shit up. So, the least you could do is get your dirty ass over here to show Biji that you aren't as much of a threat as first impressions implied.“

A teenager getting his phone taken away—no, a kindergartner getting told to stand in the corner was what the giant hulking man ahead of you reminded you of. With more annoyance than you thought possible, Dynamight begrudgingly drug himself closer to you. He stopped a few feet away—stopping as soon as Biji became a little more frantic.

You gently caressed the dog's side, whispering and muttering calming words to him, promising him the giant man was a friend. Dynamight was allergic to that word too, but he sucked it up—as he should—and slowly removed one of his gloved before holding out the back of his hand to your dog.

Biji wanted to jump out of your hold but you held firm, slowly walking towards Dynamight who rose a brow. If it was in amusement, then you'd shove him out of the conveniently placed hole in your wall. Biji sniffed his hand eagerly. After a few moments, you felt his tail beat against your legs. A small smile spread on your face. “See?“ you cooed. “He's not so bad, is he?“

Biji was too busy sniffing the hero to respond—and he so would've responded otherwise. “Give the side of his neck a nice pat,“ you said softly. “It'll reaffirm you're friendly,“ was added when he glance at you in annoyance.

“Still think you can order me around,“ he scoffed, but much more softly then before.

“I do,“ you responded immediately, “so pet him.“

He hated it, you knew he did because why would a man like Dynamight like being bossed around by someone half his size? But the man gave Biji's long hair a gently pat anyway—not before wiping his hands on his pants, you noticed.

Both of you left the room after and you closed the door behind. “Unless you're scared of dogs, I'm gonna let him go.“

The man said nothing in objection—or anything at all—so you released the beast who ran up to Dynamight immediately. “He might jump so—“ and he was already up, paws on Dynamight's large chest and tail wagging eagerly.

“Biji, down,“ you ordered, gently tugging his collar when he went to jump again.

“Uh,“ you pointed down the hall, “door's that way.“

And off you both walked. No one said a word which gave you a moment to remember the hero's injuries. “I have first aid stuff, if you want it,“ you ended up mumbling because of course he would have his own medical supplies.

“Sure,“ he mumbled back, a rough but oddly civil sound that threw you off guard.

Maybe he was almost out? He probably had to patch himself up a lot. “I, uh, I'll go get it.“

And you did, entrusting Dynamight to Biji's care. You went to your bathroom and grabbed the first-aid kit in record time before returning to the entryway, just in time to see the Great Explosion God Dynamight petting your adorable Biji boy. You really wished you and phone right now because no one would believe you.

“Got it,“ you said softly, grinning when he pulled away with a scowl.

“Here you go, apartment buddy. Need anything else? Bottle of water? Painkillers? Anything?“

He didn't say yes or no. He just clicked his tongue before turning around to open your door. You rolled your eyes, following behind to make sure Biji didn't follow him out but also to make sure he got to the elevator fine. You knew he would—he probably dealt with much worse—but, just in case.

“Nice meeting you, love your work but don't make remodeling my apartment a habit.“

He didn't laugh which was his loss cause you were funny as hell. Dynamight gave you one last glance—a very judgy-looking glance before walking off. “See you around,“ you offer lazily before doing a double take.

He was already at his apartment. He was digging out his keys to his apartment because his apartment was—you counted the numbers.

814.

816.

817.

817, and yours was—“Dang, guess we're apartment neighbors, huh,“ you mumbled.

Not quiet enough because he tossed a glare over his shoulder. You chuckled nervously. “See ya 'round,“ you said and you meant it this time.

You retreated into your apartment after. Apartment 818.

It's funny cause I was gonna make like a headconnon bullet point list thing about Bakugo x Independent s/o but it turned into this which is a drabble. A fun drabble that would make a pretty interesting story...

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