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chaoticgeminate · 2 years

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Kinktober 2022 - Day Two

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit (If that was not entirely clear)

Series Summary: You’re a fanfiction writer turned novelist, which was great since it was the path you wanted your writing to take you down in life. What you never thought would happen was meeting the Javier Gutierrez, who you actively write smutty fanfiction about from his film with Nic Cage, and you especially didn’t expect him to have a crush on you.

Fast forward several months of dating, with a good chunk of your relationship being distance due to his constant traveling and having to go home to Mallorca, when he surprises you with a prompt list and a vacation planned around exploring it.

You haven’t even worked up the nerve to tell him about what you write and post to Tumblr about him as a character yet.

Notes: Going to be using prompts from @ the-purity-pen for my meta as hell indulgence! There are feelings in this (I have no idea how they got there) and I may end up removing some possible chapters here and there depending on how I’m feeling, I apologize in advance if that happens because my brain is super mean sometimes.

Possible Warnings: PiV, cum as lube, dirty talk, my personal opinion about a certain book series

Floor Sex (2.2k)

Breakfast was ridiculously delicious, and you also got to meet the chef that was on call whenever anyone was staying at the home; Lorna was a lovely woman, her deep umber skin and warm brown eyes were soft and she was so welcoming, treating both you and Javi like her children. The older woman had been delighted when you told her how good everything was, earning you a hug and her telling Javi that she approved of you, and watching your boyfriend preen was cute until he began to shower you with praise.

It wasn’t that you hated compliments but it felt awkward sometimes, especially when the imposter syndrome kicked in.

After managing to get Javi to stop with the high praise, with Lorna’s set time for dinner already programmed as an alarm on your phones, Javi had your things in hand to go sailing together. A breezy sun dress was worn over your swimsuit, your canvas tote had a pair of water shoes tucked in the bottom on the chance you decided to take a tip in the water, and your instant shot polaroid camera with some spare packs of film were all tucked under a spare oversized hoodie for added protection.

Sometimes the sun was so bright that the pictures looked overexposed even when you put them somewhere dark or face down, or the clouds were just dense enough that things looked darker, but the whimsy of the instant shot camera and the fact that some of the resulting photos looked aged but in a good way… it was worth not being able to take a good picture every time.

Javi had refused to let you see or know anything about the contents of the picnic basket he had taken from the kitchen, you knew he certainly hadn’t made anything since he’d spent the rest of the day before and the morning with you on a much more personal tour of the house.

“I’m surprised you didn’t get a permit to build a private dock.” Your comment was meant to be light-hearted, a bit of a jest, since you knew just how much he loved to sail when he was in Mallorca. Just taking his boat out for hours at a time to be on the water, to see the open sky and clear water and look at all the sea-life that would come to investigate when he cut the engines to drift aimlessly.

Javi glanced at you after the pair of you settled in his car, the sunshine and warm air making you feel revitalized in a good way, and he captured your left hand in his right to press a kiss to the back of your hand.

“I had thought about it but the dock that I use is both secure and well maintained, I would not contribute to putting more people out of work for my own selfish reasons given the number of people installing private docks of their own.” You couldn’t help but lean over to kiss his cheek at the bubble of emotions caught in your throat with his explanation, the reminder of just how aware Javi was about rampant poverty in the world was one you would never really get over.

As the pair of you pulled into the gated parking lot, right into the designated spot for Javi, you noticed that the workers were nudging one another pointing and part of you wondered how often -if ever- Javi brought someone that wasn’t related to him here. One of the men waved cheerfully and said something but your eyes were on the boat, this wasn’t just a simple speedboat like you had thought.

Why you didn’t think your rich boyfriend would have a yacht, even one as small as this, was honestly insane. Javi appreciated the fine things in life, shamelessly, so thinking his “boat” would just be a speedboat was a major oversight on your part. He helped you board and after a quick chat with one of the workers they had the secure steel cables removed from the hull and the go ahead to begin sailing was given.

The ship was luxurious and just from a quick glance at the interior you were reminded how different this was to what you came from, your tiny little apartment was smaller than this yacht.

“There are two different places to pilot from, indoors and outdoors, I would like to pilot from the top level before the sun is too high if that is okay with you?” Javi’s request was an easy grant, even though you both did detour to bring the picnic basket and your bag inside, the polaroid draped around your neck with the spare film tucked in the small case you had attached to the strap. There was a lounging seat and a rectangle table with a box bench seat around the entire thing, two chairs where the wheel was and you slipped into your seat as Javi waited for you to settle in.

What you could see from the bow of the yacht was a small two-person seat in front of the inner cabin where the second steering wheel had to be, along with two padded mats build into the yacht for sun bathing. Javi’s soft chuckle as you took in the opulence of the ship made your face warm but he captured your chin and kissed you chastely even as he activated the pulley to raise anchor, the engines begin to purr to life, and it was impossible not to watch him work through the process of maneuvering the ship out into the open water.

He preened under your attention but didn’t allow it to distract him from the process, opening up the engines fully once the ship cleared the shallowest waters, and you snapped a picture of him before you could think twice. It was a bit of a rush to get the film into the dark envelope you had to try and prevent the distortion from overexposure to light. There was no point trying to hold a conversation over the wind and the engines, instead you just snapped pictures of anything and everything that captured your fancy.

It wasn’t until the sun had come up and the pair of you had already applied sunscreen, twice, that Javi suggested dropping anchor and taking a break to eat. Lorna had packed all of your favorite tapas and small plate dishes, the fact that there was an actual oven was something you couldn’t help but needle Javi about.

“Of course there’s an oven, and a full fridge, because how ever would some rich socialite survive if they had to microwave their food? Or, the horror, eat something that was in a cooler!” Javi laughed along with you at your dramatics, a hand on your forehead making a swooning gesture at ‘the horror’ and his tongue was stuck between his teeth to stop him from laughing too hard. Javi showed off the rest of the yacht after you ate, the fact that there were two bedrooms with a king size mattress each wasn’t shocking at this point.

There was a kitchen, a dining table, another bench seat and small table beside the interior steering wheel, a bathroom with a tub and shower… so the two bedrooms was the least surprising thing at this point.

“Have you ever read a story about something like this? A rich man takes his lovely girlfriend out on his yacht and does naughty things to her?” Javi was right behind you as the two of you stood at the base of the short staircase leading to the master bedroom, it was not only the larger room but had an actual television seeing as the smaller room was at the bow of the yacht with the stairway into it placed between the interior steering wheel and the interior bench.

You’d managed to avoid discussing your reading -and writing- habits since your initial foot-in-mouth moment when this trip was first planned, though Javi had taken a greater interest in trying to peek over your shoulders when he caught you scrolling through your phone, but having him bring it up now made you feel cornered.

It wasn’t like you had a whole vacation home to get lost in and escape to.

Damn him.

“I think there was something about that in Fifty Shades of Grey.”

He snorted gently as he played with the hem of your skirt, both of you knowing damn well that you had only ever picked those books up once and that was to write a scathing review of the ‘poorly disguised abusive relationship with a false representation of a proper BDSM relationship’ that you’d posted for the book release magazine you’d been writing for at the time.

Javi turned you in his arms and captured you in a kiss, making you practically melt against him, and when he made you walk into the room just so he could kick the door closed you half expected him to push you onto the bed. Instead, he turned you and pressed you into the wall, big hands cupping the back of your legs and pulling so you were depending on his body to stay up as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Javi-“

“As much as I would love to see you come undone on the top deck, on the lounger and under the sun, I do not want anyone else even having the chance to see you as I do. To see your beauty when you come, to hear the way you sound when I fuck you.” His voice was low and hoarse as Javi began to roll his hips against yours, grinding against you, and his swim shorts provided just enough friction against your skirt and your own swim suit to heighten the feeling of his hard cock rocking against your covered slit.

Your hands tugged at the dress, pulling the skirt up and out from between you both, and Javi groaned against your neck before he was sliding one of his hands back and his fingers under the fabric of your swim suit.

“Fuck- I never thought you were the possessive type.” The attempt at a tease was cut off into a sharp gasp when he bit down on your neck, you’d never thought much about how often he would nip and bite at your skin when you did get to spend time with him but it was beginning to make more sense now that you had him all to yourself without him having to leave in a week or two.

Javi set your legs down and you half expected him to get you on the bed until he simply pulled your sun dress off, the suit quickly going with it as he dropped to his knees, and your boyfriend dragged you down to the floor after shedding his linen button up for you to lay on.

“I admit I try not to be, Solecita, but there some things I will never share and you are one of them.”

His husky declaration made you shiver with want, reaching for him, and Javi began mouthing at your collar bones before dragging the tip of his nose across your skin as he braced himself over you with one arm and slid his other hand down to run his fingers through your folds. The realization of how truly possessive he was, that any visible marks you might find were all very intentional, had made you so wet; Javi let out a low moan at the feeling.

“Does that turn you on, Solecita, to know that I want to keep you to myself? To know that I want everyone to know you’re mine only?”

“Yes-!”

He’d shoved his shorts down just enough to free his cock and when you’d tried to answer he’d entered you in one stroke, the stretch burned so good though even with such little prep; he circled your nipple with his nose before suckling at the stiff peak of it, hitching one of your legs up for a deeper angle, and his pace picked up immediately at the wet sound when he fucked into you.

Every stroke had your limbs tightening, toes curling more and more, until you were crying out his name in a broken scream as he fucked you through your first orgasm; but he didn’t stop, his pace dizzying and it was almost too much. His skin was flushed and his brows were furrowed with concentration, your hands reaching up to cup his face, and his kiss was messy and intense.

“Mark me, Javi, come on my body.”

“You- shit, Solecita, you are sure?”

“Yes Javi, let me wear your come.”

He groaned and you felt his hips stutter before he pulled out, jerking himself over you for one and then two strokes before you felt the warm liquid land across your torso and belly. You clenched at the absence of him, you’d been getting closer to a second orgasm, so you ran your fingers through the mess on your skin and used it like lube to circle your clit. Javi watched you make yourself come using his seed to do so, you wondered what was going on in that male lizard brain of his but he was too busy occupying his mouth with yours so you didn’t get to ask.

All Fics Taglist: @hardc0rehaylz @wordsnwhiskey @pagannightwitch @radiowallet @musings-of-a-rose @amneris21 @trickstersp8 @practicalghost @rominaszh @alwaysdjarin @alexxavicry

Just Pedro Taglist: @maievdenoir @beecastle @littlemisspascal @writeforfandoms @AynsleyWalker @lovesbiggerthanpride @mswarriorbabe80

Alt Taglist: @imtryingmybeskar @fan-of-encouragement @grogusmum @sizzlingcloudmentality @deadhumourist @prostitute-robot-from-the-future

Kinktober Only: @nicolethered @katareyoudrilling

#kinktober 2022 #javi gutierrez x f!reader #javi g x f!reader #cw smut #cw piv #cw dirty talk

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dancingisdangerouss · 2 years

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Hi! I really like your writing and I had a thought/idea:

How would Al (Canon or Healthy AU Al, you can pick whichever) react to a Reader that is so used to a lot of traumatising stuff that they literally think being kidnapped by the Grabber isn’t that bad cause they figured out how to placate to his good sides. Also, they’re surprisingly chatty with Al whenever he comes down, cause their brain can’t stand with the bland walls for so long.

Basically they’re like Shit this is good: no rent, free food from Al sometimes and a mattress to sleep in - win/win situation 😂😂😂

Hmmm that’s a good question, a toughie for sure 🤔

Going by Canon (my Canon, anyway, where he’s not a pedophile) since I really don’t know much about how a Healthy Al would look, I’d say it kind of boils down to whether or not he’s motivated by/wants the thrill of the fight.

Like, if Reader was to be compliant, he’d probably be “nicer,” but I think the main point for canon Al is that he eventually beats and kills his victims. He also expects them to fight, though, so if the victim is just like “hey free rent,” it’s hard to say how he’d react. Could go one of two ways I feel:

1. It develops into some twisted, not Stockholm Syndrome but certainly fucked up relationship of him having them around. If they’re cooperative, happy to be there, and he likes them, why not keep them? At that point, why even keep them in the basement? He wouldn’t run the risk of Max finding out anything if Reader is just chillin’ there willingly.

So, he could just keep them there and actually have some legitimate companionship that he wouldn’t have been able to obtain on his own (he’s socially awkward as hell and does not appear to have any friends or social interactions outside of Max). Like a freebie? “Hey, I kidnapped you, but we’re on good terms, so I guess we’re messed-up friends/lovers now?”

Could be one of the reasons he kidnaps to begin with, since this loser can’t seem to socially interact on his own and has to literally force people to be around him 🙄

2. He purposely makes things uncomfortable for them, however that may be. Whatever he needs to do—starve them for days and days, not come down as often, not give them water or anything to do—in order to motivate them to want to try and escape. I mean, the whole point of the kidnapping mainly seems to be the Naughty Boy game and murder, so I think he’d want to try to get that going.

As we’ve seen in the film, he can get impatient and stressed (in the end it appeared he was coming to kill Finney since it just got to be too much to deal with, what with having Max hovering around—I think one of the ghost kids even mentions to Finney that the grabber thinks Max is starting to figure it out?). So I wouldn’t put it past him to eventually say “fuck it” and kill them anyway.

I do think it’s funny though—the concept of him trying to intimidate his victim and they’re just like “hey cool, no work or responsibilities, I’m here for it,” since he does seem to like having that power play, and probably gets his kicks from scaring people and feeling in control.

So I must admit, the idea of him just getting really pissed off and exasperated because his victim legitimately can’t pretend to give two shits is pretty funny 😂

#asks #anon #headcanons #I don’t knowwww #the problem is that in these scenarios I am also aging up the victims #so that then begs the question of whether he kidnapped reader on purpose or accidentally #which would definitely change the course of how things played out at that point #penny for your thots #the black phone #grabber #the grabber

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daveinediting · 1 year

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The year so far has been about up-scaling and posting YouTube videos with custom thumbnails. Hundreds of clips with a lot more to go plus managing a database of the work done so far including the data attached to each clip, resolution, captioning, playlists, series, show of origin, geographic location, and so on.

This year so far has also been about projects carrying a lot of question marks. A lot of elements we need... but the client isn't making those elements available yet for whatever reason. A lot of questions about intent... but those questions are going unanswered so far for whatever reason.

In both circumstances, wrangling YouTube videos and dealing in question marks, prioritizing thinking is key. It's giving myself time to think through both processes because they're tricky. Because they’re complicated.

In the case of the YouTube videos, there are adjustments and improvements I’m making along the way because I gave myself time. Because I allowed myself to occasionally come up for air instead of relentlessly cranking out videos.

Don't get me wrong, cranking out videos is the point. But feedback's built into my process. My own feedback. As in Am I doing something wrong here? Is there another way I to do this this? Is there a better to do this? What have I done so far? What's still in front of me? And so on.

Here's a little story that captures the reason for these questions:

A long time ago I was creating a stop motion video using my DSLR with a shutter cable. At the beginning, I framed up the scene and then started moving figures around, snapping a picture with the shutter cable each time I advanced the scene, working this way as fast as I could. It still took a lot of time... and I was totally jazzed to see the finished work. Which turned out exactly as planned....

...until about halfway through when all my figures move quite intentionally out of frame. Just BAM. Out of frame.

I wasn't double-checking my work, you see. So I wasted about half my effort by plowing relentlessly ahead.

Actually no. I had to start over. From scratch. However, in setting everything up again, I hit on a better idea of what to do this next time around. And that lesson was not lost on me. My process is one of iteration and course correction even when it's on the fly.

Sure, if I have to do something in one go, I can do it. My work kicks ass, though, when I take the opportunity to put more thought into what I'm doing before I do it, while I'm doing it, and afterward.

So.

If there's the time, I take it.

If there isn't the time, I put as much thought as possible into what I'm going to do. The 48 Hour Horror Film Project was like that. I had from early afternoon Saturday 'til around three or four the next afternoon to do the edit, sound design, music integration, color correction, and coordinating with the composer and then the writer and director.

The amount of time I had was never gonna change.

But.

I did spend the entire week before that edit getting ready for it.

The Real Road Adventures series was a bit the same way. We were using all new production and post production tech for these shows and spent weeks figuring out the details and setting up a process so editing would just flow once we were into the schedule.

Even my composing efforts were front loaded. The time I had to actually composed, record, arrange, and mix all the music for the series was also never gonna change... so I spent weeks beforehand logging all the virtual instruments, sounds, and sound effects I had at my disposal. I marked which were my favorites. I tagged each one according to what I imagined its use to be in the kind of series I was cutting.

That effort paid off, by the way. Whenever my brain started reaching for a different idea, those ideas were easy to manifest with sounds I already identified (ish) for such purpose.

Anyway.

At this point, I’ve got the YouTube process pretty well in hand (but for the ever expanding database that requires constant tending to). As for the question mark projects, well, there are clients and there are clients. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, even if they haven’t sent you the elements you need, you can conjure them. In my case, the missing elements in the script are things I can make a pretty decent educated guess at. Which is what I did. Based on my own research, I created animations that illustrate the sections of script in question.

So...

Am I good to go?

Of course not. I’m fishing for feedback from the client. A bit of direction.

I’m also strategizing a little with other undefined parts of the script that I’ll have a go at for similar reasons. To give the client something to see. Because that’s how it is with some clients. They have to have something they can see before they can start guiding you in the right direction.

Yeah.

The year’s starting with brain-teaser projects.

Not impossible. Not chaos. Not frustrating.

I’ve just...

Gotta think my way through.

#editing #editor #video #youtube #clients #creative process #client process #strategic thinking

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priestessofspiders · 6 months

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Dead Man's Brains

It was such an incredible party. Genuinely, if I had to pick out the most happy and wonderful moments of my life, that Halloween party would have been one of them. That's why it hurts so much to remember it. It makes me want to break down crying whenever I think about the terrible, awful thing that happened right under our noses, and how none of us even noticed. It feels so obvious, looking back on it now. Hindsight is 20/20 I suppose.

I wouldn't say I'm a particularly unsocial person, I think I get along with people quite well once I've gotten to know them, but something about making that first step of initial contact just always seemed so difficult. I always felt incredibly awkward being introduced to strangers, and while I can mask that discomfort fairly well, it does mean that I tend to adopt a slightly stilted and formal attitude whenever I'm meeting new people.

As a consequence, and also in part due to the pandemic, much of my socializing for the past few years has been online. The awkwardness is still there of course, but it feels so much less uncomfortable when the people I am being introduced to are just text on a screen. However, this does mean that most of my friends tend to live quite far away. A handful of them do live within about an hour's drive of me, so we tend to hang out whenever possible, at least we used to before the party. Nowadays it just feels wrong.

It was on one such meetup with three friends of mine that we discussed the possibility of a throwing a big party of some sort. We all navigated the same general social circles, and we had considered for a while inviting down the myriad online friends we had acquired over the years, at least the ones we trusted. It was I who suggested we host the party on Halloween. From there the discussion swiftly turned to themes, since what kind of Halloween party wouldn't have a theme?

Jessica suggested that we host something inspired by mythology and ancient history. She had always been quite interested in legends, myths, and classical literature of all kinds, and I recall fondly our discussions of Beowulf, the Epic of Gilgamesh, and the Romance of the Three Kingdoms. As much as I would have liked to indulge her, the others pointed out it could be somewhat of a niche topic, and so the discussion continued.

Sadie, Jessica's girlfriend, suggested something themed off of horror films. Sadie had, partially at my encouragement, been on a bit of a horror movie kick as of late, and we had all enjoyed spending time rewatching some of the old classics together. It seemed like a solid theme, and Jessica and I were almost set to agree on it, but it was then that Jake suggested his idea.

In any given queer friend group, there is typically one straight member who has been deemed "safe" by the others. Jake was that friend. We all considered him trustworthy and never really had to worry about him putting his foot in his mouth whenever the conversation veered towards a rainbow hue. I had half-expected Jake to suggest a historical theme, given his degree in military history, but instead he advised that we go for a traditional sort of Halloween party; bobbing for apples, carving pumpkins, that sort of thing.

The rest of us immediately agreed this would be the best course of action. Not only would it mean that none of the attendees would have to adjust their costumes for the occasion, but also none of us had ever actually attended such an event, and the novelty of something simultaneously nostalgic yet alien was the perfect combination. Instantly there was discussion of activities, decorations, and whether or not we should pool together our funds to get a fog machine.

Now, obviously the four of us didn't plan out the entire party in one night. We still had to figure out who we trusted well enough to give Jessica's address to (it was decided early on that her house would be the most suitable for hosting), send out invitations, and even put up a couple of online fundraisers to try and get plane tickets for some of our more distant friends. Over the months that this process took we soon found that what had started out as mere idle discussion was rapidly taking shape into what seemed would be a rather excellent celebration.

Now, each of us were to contribute some sort of activity that we would watch over and purchase the necessary supplies for. Sadie's medical background gave her the rather ghoulish idea of setting up a pumpkin carving table themed after an autopsy, which while strictly speaking wasn't traditional, fit so well with the whole aesthetic of the party that we all found it delightful. Jessica set about acquiring an old style wooden barrel for the purpose of bobbing for apples, putting her artistic skills to good use with paintings of various Halloween spooks on the sides of it. My idea was somewhat silly but still wound up being put to use. I couldn't find if the game had a real name, or if it was just called "The Mirror Game", but I'd heard it alleged that if you stared at your own face in the mirror for long enough your mind would distort the image in a rather frightful manner, so I was going to set up the bathroom with candles and a chair, the lights turned off.

Jake decided he was going to set up a game of Dead Man's Brains.

If you've ever read Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, you've probably heard of this game. You set up a series of boxes with bits of cloth loosely covering the opening, and place within each box some nasty object that feels like the body part of a dead man. Peeled grapes for eyes, a bowl of diluted ketchup for blood, a mushy tomato for the titular brain, etc. There was a sort of pseudo-poem that was supposed to go along with it, but Jake didn't really care to stick too close to the traditional version, he said he would put his own twist on it. We all thought it was a great idea, and that it fit the theme perfectly. Jake even went about making some custom boxes for the affair, each labeled with the "body part" in question, deciding that his version would consist of eyeballs, guts, heart, fingers, and of course, the titular brains.

The months until the party turned into weeks, then days, until finally it was time for the night itself. I arrived early, along with Sadie, so we could set up our activities in advance of the guests, but Jake was nowhere to be found. We texted him, but received no response, which was a bit worrying, but we tried to work around it, assuming that something had come up that was occupying his attention for a bit.

In terms of costumes, Sadie and Jessica had decided to go as Carmilla and Laura from Carmilla. We had recently watched the film Dracula's Daughter which was loosely inspired by the novella, and while the film itself was so-so, it had inspired the two of them to read the source material, which they quite enjoyed. Given Sadie's relative short stature in comparison to Jessica, it was somewhat amusing to observe a Carmilla who would need a step stool in order to successfully suck out her victim's blood.

As for me, I had chosen to dress as the witch Keziah Mason from Lovecraft's tale Dreams in the Witch House. It was a simple matter of getting some puritan-esque clothes, a ragged gray shawl, and a small toy rat with the bearded face of an action figure swapped for the head. All in all I thought the effect was rather good, though I didn't go to the effort of attempting to age myself with makeup.

Jessica's apple bobbing station and Sadie's pumpkin autopsy table were set up quickly, and I went about preparing all the necessary alterations to the bathroom. At this point, the first guests were expected to arrive, and we were all growing increasingly concerned by Jake's continued absence. We tried calling him, but were directed straight to voice mail. Of the four of us, Jake was usually the most punctual, so this was a very strange change of character. We decided we would have to start without him, not that we had much choice in the matter, as soon as we had said this, our first guests began to pour in.

Our first visitors of the evening were Ashley and Dawn, fresh from their honeymoon in British Columbia. Dawn seemed dressed like something out of a World War 2 propaganda poster, with a plaid shirt and open welding mask. Ashley's costume seemed to be a character out of some cartoon or video game which I wasn't familiar with, pink hair in a punk style with large mechanical boxing gloves of some sort. Regardless of my unfamiliarity with the subject matter, the costume did seem to be quite well made, and despite the lack of matching with regards to their costumes, the two of them made quite the cute couple.

We had only just managed to finish introductions when Sock and his boyfriend arrived next. Sock is quite the artist, with talents in more mediums than I can count, one of those people who is less a jack of all trades and more a master of all trades. It seemed he had turned his artistic skills towards papier mache most recently, as the costume he wore seemed primarily made using the technique. It was some sort of monstrous beast, all fangs, claws, and scaly skin, and though it was quite impressive I couldn't quite discern if it was meant to reference something else or if it was an original creation of Sock's. Sock's boyfriend, whose name I can never recall, simply wore a cheap mad scientist outfit, complete with goggles and long black gloves. He was a rather short, anxious gentleman, a mycologist by trade if I recall correctly, and while he did seem to enjoy himself as the evening progressed, he tended to just hover around his boyfriend nervously.

Next came Carlos and Elizabeth, the two of them sharing a ride to save money. Both had just landed after extremely long flights, Carlos from Brazil and Elizabeth from France, and it was clear from their bleary eyes and occasionally spacey looks that they were jet-lagged to Hell and back. Carlos hadn't really had time to get any sort of costume ready, so simply wore some nice tweeds and a sign hanging from his neck reading "I am a human puppet". Elizabeth meanwhile had managed to put on some clown makeup. In spite of their tiredness, the two of them seemed to perk up quite quickly, as this was the first time any of us had the opportunity to meet up in person with them, and our enthusiasm was infectious.

Second to last arrived Astra, clad in the garb of a Napoleonic soldier, and I knew even without asking that every aspect of the uniform was sure to be as accurate as possible. Within minutes of her arrival, Astra, Carlos, and Elizabeth were instantly locked in conversation regarding the intricacies of lightweight tabletop role playing game design, a topic they continued to discuss for much of the party.

Finally, after every other guest had long since made their way to the party, did Jake show up. There was a knock upon Jessica's thick wooden door, and since everyone else was otherwise occupied in conversation, I went to answer it. I found myself standing face to face with a gas-masked infantryman of the Great War, complete with Brodie helmet and a replica Webley revolver which I lent him. Next to him were a series of wooden boxes. I greeted him with a hug, which he responded with silently and stiffly. Something was wrong, but I didn't know what.

He pressed a piece of folded up paper into my hand, which I read immediately. It said, Sorry for being late. Couldn't find the card for the train. I've got a cold and I've lost my voice. I'll probably have to leave early, but I figured I should at least show up as long as I can. Would have told you earlier but my phone stopped working, I think the battery gave out.

I apologized profusely for the hardships he had experienced and ushered him into the house to the cheers of our friends, carrying the boxes he had brought for him. Each box was made of dark stained wood with an opening covered in black cloth, with a label burned above the openings stating which "body part" was contained within each one. It was really quite impressive, and I complimented Jake on his handywork, to which he simply nodded.

I helped him set up the game of Dead Man's Brains on the table we had set aside for it, and the rest of the party continued as planned, though the distinctive absence of Jake's voice was noticeable.

Everything about the party was perfect. Legitimately, I do not think I have ever had a happier occasion in my entire life. There was laughter, jokes, at some point or another Ashley and Dawn broke out some card games, Elizabeth ran a quick session of a horror TTRPG of her own design, it was a truly magical evening. The theme of the classic Halloween party didn't go unobserved either. Plenty of time was spent bobbing for apples, staring into the mirror by candlelight (though it did admittedly devolve into chanting of "Bloody Mary" rather quickly), carving pumpkins, and everyone in the party adored Jake's rendition of Dead Man's Brains. He accepted each compliment with a polite nod and a tip of his helmet.

There were five boxes, labeled "Eyes", "Guts", "Fingers", "Heart" and finally, "Brain". I've always been somewhat squeamish when it came to rotten fruit, raw meat and other such inedible foodstuffs, and what I felt in those boxes quickly triggered that latent disgust. I only managed to get to guts before I had to dip out, laughingly explaining that I would vomit if I had to undergo the whole thing. There were many jokes about me being a pussy, but I wasn't pressured into doing the rest of it.

We had already planned to make the party into a sleepover, since we didn't expect anyone to shell out the money for a hotel. As the evening wound down, out came the air mattresses and pillows. As soon as it was clear that the more active part of the evening was coming to a close, Jake quietly excused himself, handing a note to Jessica thanking her for hosting the party. We all gave our fondest fairwells to him, each of us hugging him in turn, and he left with a final wave and a cheerful salute.

We all slept soundly that night, happy from the company of friends and tired from a night of childlike, innocent fun. It was such a perfect party, and despite what I know now, I still find myself reliving that night over and over in my head, remembering how happy and content I felt.

Everything changed in the morning. I had woken up earlier than usual, nose wrinkling due to an unfamiliar stench. I got up to investigate, more intent on getting rid of it so I could go back to sleep than getting up for the day proper.

The smell came from the boxes, a rotten, sickly odor. The scent of meat just beginning to spoil. I remember mentally kicking myself for not reminding Jake to take them with him when he left. I put on a pair of rubber gloves and reached inside, trying not to gag. I started with the box labeled "Eyes".

I must have woken up the whole neighborhood with my screaming.

The police were there within 15 minutes to take our testimony. They kept asking everyone for a description of the suspect, what he looked like, and we just had to shake our heads and tell them we didn't know. That we couldn't tell who he was underneath the gas mask. Hell, we didn't even know if "he" was a he. We didn't see their face after all.

They took the eyes, the intestines, the severed fingers, the heart, and the severed head with the top of the skull neatly removed as evidence, but I imagine Jake's family were swiftly given custody of the remains shortly afterwards. It's not like forensics would be able to get any usable fingerprints off of them, given how many of us had touched them.

#horror #horror fiction #horror story #writeblr #nosleep #halloween

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roseykat · 9 months

Text

TITLE: Siphoned Guilt

PAIRING: reader x Minho

WC: 9.4K

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

SYNOPSIS: things always run smoothly during a scene with Minho - always. But an unintentional lack of proper aftercare can make for a terrible sub drop…

TAGS: smut, unprotected sex, use of a sex toy (vibrator), consensual filming, impact play, mirror sex, sub space (reader), sub drop (reader), overstimulation, orgasm torture, squirting, BDSM, humiliation, mean!Minho, degradation (reader is called ‘slut’ and ‘whore’), swearing, crying (reader), slight angst but resolve.

TAGLIST: @heres-your-ramen2000

MASTERLIST

“Open,” says Minho with his hand extended out to your mouth.

You hum with content, taking everything that he gives you eagerly that a bit of it even spills down your chin. Once you’ve swallowed, Minho uses his thumb to swipe across your lips to collect the residue. He then brings it up to his mouth and sucks it clean.

A scowl falls across your face as your eyes narrow at him, “you did that on purpose.”

“You’re right,” he replies shamelessly. “I just wanted to see your reaction.”

“Course you did.”

“Any good?” He asks you, waiting patiently for your review.

“I’ve had better,” you shrug.

Minho sighs and gently smacks his closed fist on the table, “should’ve gone for the crème brûlée.”

“Next time,” you say to him. “And speaking of next time, when are we up for another scene?”

The question sparks thoughts in Minho’s brain. That was what you were hoping this date would initiate - a discussion for another scene, but also because you wanted to spend time with your boyfriend. The last one from over a week ago is still fresh in Minho’s memory. So far, it was probably one of the best scenes he’s ever had.

All of it leads to him thinking inappropriate things in the middle of a busy, overcrowded restaurant. Oh if anyone could read his mind right now.

“Whenever you’re ready baby,” he answers with a soft smile on his face. “Have any ideas so far?”

You dig your spoon into the pear flavoured ice cream, blinking up once and then back down at the dish, “I might.”

Minho leans across the table, for some reason growing even more giddy on the inside, “I’m all ears.”

“I really liked the last scene - a lot,” you start off. “I liked the intensity and was thinking maybe we could do something similar.”

He’s glad to hear those words and replies, “I’m happy that you liked it. What was one of the aspects that you enjoyed the most?”

“The impact play.”

“I thought that might’ve been one.”

“And then at the end…when you were…were like-”

“Fucking you?” Minho helps you with your sentence there, a little bit too loudly at that.

“Yes,” you continue, hoping your face isn’t as red as it feels. “It was just you that made me do that, not a…toy or anything.”

Minho’s heart skips a beat. His face also feels hot when he hears that it was just him that made you cum as crazy as you did. It’s still fresh in his memory - the first time that he made you squirt. So far since the scene, Minho hasn’t stopped thinking about that very moment.

“Oh yeah?” He winks across at you, playing cool.

Underneath the table, you lightly kick him in the shin for his comment. Being out at dinner discussing bedroom matters wasn’t necessarily unusual. It got you both out of the house to spend some quality time together other than only having sex.

“Anyway,” you clear your throat.

“Shall we say in a couple of days then?” He suggests.

“That works.”

The date had then been settled after dinner. You and Minho both figured that in two evenings time would be fitting to slot in a scene. It’s not always manageable when you’re both busy and then having to make room for the amount of energy that will be expended during and after it.

But you were teeming with anticipation to play again.

A few days to prepare was necessary. It gave you both time to discuss everything and to also get into the correct frame of mind heading into the scene. Being in an unwanted mental space prior to one is guaranteed to cause the scene to go haywire.

As the day rolled around, Minho was equally excited. You both discussed the factors you wanted to cover from the previous scene, and also something new that he wanted to introduce with your consent. After hearing him out, you were on board with his idea.

On the bed, Minho laid out a number of items that were going to be used. He then moves on to helping you fully undress, placing your clothes neatly on the other side of the bed and comes back to pick up the black strands of rope.

“Colour?” he asks you.

“Green.”

With that, Minho begins to create a karada box tie that frames your chest. The method of using shibari is a lot more intricate than standard restraints. The finished product is photo worthy, a precursor as to why Minho had his phone set on the bed too. Once he completes your chest area, Minho then binds your arms together behind your back with another set of rope.

“Now, does anything pinch in any way you feel like it shouldn’t?”

You test the restraint by trying to move your arms just to be sure. The binds are tight and sturdy - nothing too exceedingly uncomfortable which is how it’s meant to be. There’s no sharp, unnecessary or immediate pain that should hinder you throughout the scene.

“No, it’s okay,” you answer.

“Good,” Minho replies.

“Not tying up the rest of me?” You ask, trying to look at his work in the mirror.

“You have no trouble keeping your legs open for me without restraints,” he answers. “I think you’ll be fine for now but I’ll be using some more later.”

You gulp down the embarrassing truth before you wonder why Minho steps around you to grab the mirror and bring it closer to you both. Oddly enough, he then takes a seat on the floor, leaning his back against the end of the bed.

“Over my lap and turn your face towards the mirror,” he instructs.

The last time you questioned him during a scene, he easily put you in your place. But today, you had a strong impression that he’s not going to fuck around, so you move right away.

You stand beside him before kneeling down onto one knee, followed by the other. With his support, Minho helps you down carefully and slowly so that your ass is mainly over his lap and the side of your face is on the floor.

The position isn’t comfortable. But when is it not? That’s how it’s meant to be. You were on the floor during the last scene and this was no different.

“Alright then, colour?”

“Green.”

Smack!

The first hit takes you by surprise that it doesn’t leave you with a whole ordeal of stinging pain. Usually you’re not complacent about Minho’s unpredictability, but for a split second you thought he was going to ease into it.

Not tonight however. Minho is under the intention to absolutely ruin you.

His hand pelts down hard again. You bite down on your lip and submerge in the sting. A couple of more then follow and it doesn’t get any easier. In some cases, Minho’s hands hit harder than any belt or paddle you’ve come across. It almost feels personal when it isn’t.

Then, another one slaps down mercilessly to yank you from your thoughts.

“Fuck,” you mumble quietly to yourself.

“Watch your mouth,” Minho warns, cracking his hand down even harder this time to make your entire body jolt.

He hits down a couple of more times for your remark, reminding you that playing up or misbehaving is not an option. To truly reinforce that rule, he switches to the paddle he had set out earlier.

It’s black, smooth, wooden, and thin. Unlike thicker paddles, this one can leave a sharp sting behind but also makes it feel like some sort of blunt force on impact. You experience it firsthand when Minho smacks it down hard onto your ass.

Shaking on the strike, you try to keep your mouth closed. But even that doesn’t stop you from making inaudible sounds. You moan and whine when Minho starts putting more force behind the paddle. It sucks all of your attention and energy to try and subdue the ever emerging pain which is exactly what he wants.

He understands the science behind a person experiencing pain and the link that has to our fight or flight mode. The more pain he administers to you through impact play, the more of those ‘happy’ endorphins are released into your body to try numb it. The more that’s released, the more chances Minho has of getting you into sub space.

Therefore, right down to the molecular level, even there he wants to ruin you.

To further taunt you, he delicately glides the paddle from the top of your back, slowly down your spine and over your marked ass. It was to plant a thought in your head to make you think you were going to take another hit when in reality, he wanted to keep you guessing. Instead, Minho takes the paddle and glides it in between your pussy.

That’s what unhinges your jaw for moans to keep spilling out and to fill the room as the paddle glides lovingly over your wet clit.

“I bet that feels good, huh?” Minho asks.

“Y-Yes,” you exasperate, squirming under the touch.

He brings the paddle back up and shows you in the mirror. It glistens with your juices which sends you hurtling into embarrassment. Impact play isn’t always considered as foreplay, and yet you’re already wet from it and for what’s to be used in between your legs eventually.

Minho sets the paddle down and decides to feel what’s his for himself. He uses his fingers, toying and teasing your clit so much that it makes your wriggle in his lap. You being so wet makes it effortless for him to slide a finger inside you.

“Of course it does, otherwise you wouldn’t be this wet. Would you?” Minho comments, making you flush with shame.

You don’t respond - you don’t know how until Minho strikes his hand down on your ass again, causing you to take in a sharp breath and clench around his fingers.

“Would you?” he demands for an answer.

“Yes!” You yelp while your arms strain themselves in the rope. “I love it.”

“That’s right,” he says, soothing your asscheek with the palm of his hand. “And that’s what makes you such a slut. Even if I don’t fuck you or tease you, you’ll still get wet for me.”

With that, Minho removes his fingers and spanks you hard once more. From there, the amount of hits you take continue to stack up. You’re unsure of how many you’ve actually clocked, but figured it was reaching a lot when you start feeling the hazy horizon of faded awareness.

It’s where your energy begins to lessen that even trying to nod in response to his comment begins to take a lot out of you. It’s the point in which all your attention then shifts to when Minho suddenly grasps one cheek, forcing moan after moan from your mouth. His other hand spanks down a few times on the other cheek, confusing your mind with two different types of pain.

“Mmm! F-Fuck…please Minho!” You cry out as tears begin pricking your eyes.

The man doesn’t listen and switches tactics. This time he squeezes both of your asscheeks with absolutely no remorse, making you kick your feet and bite down so hard on your lip that you feel like it might bleed.

He doesn’t care if you’re shaking or starting to cry until your tears roll onto the floor. It’s what he knows best to help make your brain slip - pain and pleasure, which he wants to deliver once you’ve reached a peak of no return.

He won’t stop until you’re no longer trembling, until you just start taking it. When your body becomes limp, that’s when Minho knows you’re succumbing to the pain and where it starts feeling good.

“I told you to watch your mouth,” he hissed through gritted teeth and finally released his hands. “Know your place.”

When his hands ease up, he can already see deep burgundy shades of red starting to bruise through your skin. To torture you further, Minho gently massages the flesh of your ass. Your legs strain out in reaction as the pain lingering in over your skin begins to spread and intensify just from those soft touches.

You bite down again, limiting your moans to short, muffled whimpers. Trying to have a handle on your reactions is nearly impossible, not when Minho switches back to spanking you. The pain rises to a point where it’s overwhelming and as a result, you start to hold your breath to deal with the intensity.

Minho’s sharp ears pick up on the lack of sounds you’re no longer making. He pays no mind to it at first, but prompts you soon after so that you’re not going to pass out.

“Breathe,” he says coldly.

Even though his tone was pointed, it was still an instruction and you were going to listen. Relaxing a little bit allows your lungs to start working again. Minho gives your ass a rest, for now.

He gently strokes over your hair and slowly down your spine. His hand glides softly over your marked ass, admiring the fresh and blotchy bruises.

With one firm and final spank, Minho calls an end to the impact play portion of the scene and moves into something as equally as exciting.

“I’ll help you sit up on my lap and then I want you in between my legs,” he says.

Whatever that means you have no idea. Your mind is starting to drift off towards that happy space where time and problems don’t exist. Sooner than later, you realise that you’re sitting on the floor, propped in front of Minho before the mirror. It’s a bit tricky when you have your arms bound, but he manages. Once you’re pressed right up against him, Minho reaches for something behind him on the bed; the other sets of rope and two other items.

Why he chose the mirror, you had no idea. Not in your liquid like mind could you articulate a proper thought. But for Minho, it wasn’t as trivial. After the previous scene, he quickly discovered a new kink of his - mirror sex. Or at least, making you cum in front of a mirror.

Not only does he want to see every part of what you look like when you cum, but he wants you to see it too. He wants you to watch how he can unravel you, how he can make you lose your mind.

“Prop your legs up for me,” he orders.

One by one, you plant your feet on the ground so that your knees bend like Minho’s. He scoots up more behind you, grabs some of the black rope, leans around to the left, and begins tying your ankle to his.

He continues the same action with another set of rope, this time, securing you to him by and under your knee. Minho then completes more of the rope restraints in the exact same places for your other leg - ensuring that you’re tied to Minho himself and not able to move your lower half.

In a semi-lucid state, you’re able to gauge why he wants to do this in front of the mirror. Your legs are spread for the pair of you to see. Although it’s rather humiliating to be so exposed, Minho will never get enough of seeing you so vulnerable like this.

“Look at you,” he whispers.

Too embarrassed to see the reflection, you try to shy away from looking. Instead, Minho uses your hand to gently grip under your chin and face you towards the mirror himself.

“This is what’s going to happen,” he adds sternly. “You’re going to cum - as many times as I say you are, and you’re not going to stop unless I say so.”

Overstimulation. It was a topic of discussion in the conversation you both agreed upon leading up to the scene. Similar to impact play, it also happens to be one of your weak points in the sense that it will effortlessly make you lose your mind.

Minho then reaches for something beside him - a vibrator. This one was different to the toy that he used in the previous. Minho bought it for you a couple of months back and was rather fond of using it on you than a usual vibrator. It can be isolated just over your clit, replicating sucking motions that would have your brain melt in seconds.

The first time Minho used it on you, he managed to make you cum easily in under thirty seconds. That’s how you knew it was going to be tough.

“Colour?” He asks.

Almost too busy trying to mentally prepare yourself, you utter your answer, “g-green.”

Minho acknowledges your response and turns the vibrator on. Thinking he would place it straight over your clit was a bad idea, not when he takes it to your nipple instead.

Your head tips back over his shoulder, “oh my god…”

The sucking motions were nothing short of phenomenal. It’s not exactly where you want to feel pleasure at the moment, but you’ll grasp onto anything to feel good.

You suck in a sudden breath when Minho eventually takes the vibrator to your clit. It was then where you realised that the ropes were beginning to serve their purpose of keeping your legs apart. As much as you want to move them, Minho's strength proves you can’t. They’re open for him, and they’ll remain that way until he’s satisfied.

“Already so wet,” Minho mutters quietly. “You’re going to be a good girl and cum for me right?”

“Y-Yes…” you mumble mindlessly, trying to keep up with the vibrator.

“Good,” he adds smoothly. “But I want to see you actually live up to that answer.”

In this instance it was easier done than said. Minho decides to crank the speed up on the toy, getting you to the edge faster than you could blink back at yourself in the mirror. Before you know it, Minho’s name spills out of your mouth repeatedly.

“Fuck…gonna cum, oh my god. Minho…please.”

“That’s it, cum for me,” he urges you.

Your voice lodges in your throat as the first orgasm of the night washes over you. From there, your eyes screw shut as you fall silent to the pleasure that’s releasing. Minho consumes your expression, watching how you struggle to handle such a big orgasm. Those thoughts rush to his already hard dick.

With one final shudder, the euphoria dies down and Minho takes the vibrator away for a few moments to give you a short rest. But it doesn’t allow any time for you to fully catch your breath by the time he decides to go back in with the toy. Your body trembles upon those fast vibrations.

“Keep your eyes open,” Minho whispers in your ear. “I want you to watch yourself when you cum.”

You’re unsure if you can. There was little to no cooldown between your first orgasm and your next, but either way, it’s clear what your body wants to do and you can’t stop it. With the pleasure building at a speed you’re unable to keep up with, your eyes lock onto yourself in the mirror by the time you actually cum. You’re looking at what Minho has done to you - how he’s swiftly unravelling you.

He can’t take his gaze off of you in the reflection. Never in his life does he ever think he’ll get over the way you look when you cum.

“That’s two,” he says to you, still holding the vibrator over your clit. “Look how much you’re dripping onto the floor.”

As you attempt to turn your head away, Minho counters and holds your jaw to make sure that you can actually see.

“Such a slut for me, huh? Always so wet…always wanting to be fucked,” he whispers directly in your ear.

Your upper body shivers under his warm breath, squirming so much that you're pressing even further into Minho from behind. It gives you the lucrative opportunity to feel how hard he is even though he’s fully clothed. Despite your hands being bound, you’re still able to awkwardly rub against him. At first, he passes it off as unintentional. It wasn’t until you really started to try to touch his dick that he caught onto what you wanted to do.

His hand comes up to latch onto a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back but not enough for you to be leaning over his shoulder. The sting in your scalp makes the pleasure building in the pit of your tummy even more intense.

He presses back into your ear and threatens, “keep trying to touch me and the scene ends.”

“I-I…can’t help it,” you murmur.

“Yes you can,” he hisses. “And you will. You’re not going to get anything in return.”

“I’m gonna cum,” you mumble, ignoring his warning. Minho rolls his eyes. He almost forgot that he was still holding the vibrator to your clit.

“Course you are,” he replies, releasing the grip on your hair.

“Yes, yes…yes, please fuck!”

A quiet string of moans fills the room as you’re forced to watch yourself cum once again in the mirror. Minho feels your legs trembling hard against his own. Gradually, he’s put in some more strength to firmly keep your legs open. To him it proves that the orgasms he’s giving you are getting stronger.

“That was a long one, huh?” He asks you, seeing if he can douse you with any more humiliation. But you’ve passed that point now.

When he brings you to your next few orgasms, your mind has entered another realm. It’s floating somewhere that’s not on this planet as your body becomes even more overstimulated than it already is. The pain from the impact play hasn’t necessarily subdued. It’s definitely aching from your lower half since you’ve spent some time on the ground, but it’s faint.

In addition, you’ve gradually given up on fighting those orgasms. Even though they feel good and you want them to approach at a slow pace, you’re officially just taking them as they come. As a result, Minho no longer has to put any effort into it with his own legs to keep yours apart.

“Gonna give me another one, yeah?”

You’re unsure of whether you can or not. Then again, that’s not up for you to decide. Minho has pushed you to your limits during scenes many times. More than four orgasms is the optimum limit before you start losing your mind. But at this point, you’re way beyond that.

You’ll cum regardless if you think you can or not. As long as Minho continues to hold that vibrator against your clit, you will cum.

“P-Please…” you whimper, anticipating the buildup to explode inside of you.

“Please what?” Minho questions impatiently.

“I…I need to…” your attempt at a reply was futile but genuine. Your body feels like it’s going to burst but your brain can’t help you get the sentences out.

“Need to, what?” he asks with a sharp tone, growing obviously impatient. “Use your words properly.”

Before you can even carry out his instruction, you’re already coming. Your eyes screw shut, your mouth parts, and nothing but Minho’s name comes out. You can’t help but tremble and shake as the vibrations rattle your entire body. He watches it all gloriously unfold in the mirror.

“I suppose that’s seven then,” he says in a very condescending tone.

As much as he wants to continue with the vibrator, he decides to switch it off. From there, the room falls quiet - apart from the jagged breaths you take after finally being able to rest for a few moments. Or so you thought once again.

Minho sets the toy to the side then picks up his phone. He swipes his thumb across his screen to set his camera on and switches to video to start recording. You’re unaware of what’s entirely happening, but remember faintly that it was one of his ideas in the conversation leading up to the scene.

“How would you feel about me taking a video?” He suggested to you earlier on.

“Of the whole thing? Do you even have enough storage for that?” You replied.

“Well, not all of the scene. Just one part. But what are your thoughts on me doing that?”

Sure there were a lot of questions around what was going to happen next, but Minho is a good man, he’d never in his life or in his next ever use it against your will. It’s just solely for his own entertainment whenever he needs you and you’re not around. If anything, it’s hot knowing that he can get off to a video of you…

“I’m okay with that,” you said to him clearly.

From that conversation, Minho managed to factor that risqué essence into the scene just by taking a video.

“Dripping on the floor,” he says to the camera, capturing the images through the reflection of the mirror.

The fact that he’s not directly talking to you but to the video instead is some inviting form of being objectified. It makes you feel like a ‘thing’ that he’s referring to. Either way, it’s not like you’re able to respond to his remark. You’re bound to cum, both figuratively and literally.

Only this time, it’ll be with his fingers. At first, he teases your entrance, trying to trick you into thinking that he's about to finger fuck you. At the same time, he manages to focus the camera on his hand where it glistens, making sure he captures it all.

“This is how badly she wants to be fucked,” Minho boists, then brings his hand up to your mouth.

He doesn’t even need to tell you to open up. You’ve become so pliant that everything you do is just purely automatic. His fingers ease and glide over your yielding tongue, tasting yourself as he explores your mouth - all on camera, all for him.

“Such a good slut for me,” he praises.

After a few lingering moments, he pulls his slick fingers away and takes them down to your clit like he’s in a hurry to make you cum. Your body stiffens for a few seconds as he draws light circles over the over sensitive nub, then inserts one digit. It’s a relieving sensation to have something inside you. Although it’s not Minho’s dick, it just seems to take the edge off.

But unfortunately, he doesn’t decide to finger fuck you. He just continues to massage and rub over your sensitive clit for the video he’s still filming. The wet sounds and tiny puffs of air mixed with inaudible moans coming from your mouth are all captured for him - something that he can rewatch whenever he feels like it.

Whimpers and mewls begin to strain from the back of your throat. The strong sensation ploughs mercilessly throughout your body, tremoring in its wake.

“There we go,” he whispers. “You’re getting louder, I almost thought you were getting camera shy on me for a second.”

The transition from a high speed vibrating toy to Minho's fingers is unfathomable. He’s so attentive, teasing, and just good at what he does. It almost makes you wonder how he can do what he’s doing before the two of you met…

…that thought seems to stay longer in your brain. But it’s not currently strong enough to lull you right out of sub space. For now, you ready yourself for another eye rolling orgasm that Minho gives to you all while he films it. Through the lens and the reflection of the mirror, he studies your expression as you cum.

He basks in the tiny moans from your mouth as he brings you to your next orgasm.

“Min…I’m cumming,” you utter quietly just before that wave hits.

“That’s it,” he plants a kiss to the side of your head while continuing to film as your orgasm washes over you completely. “Be a good whore and cum for me.”

The thread that your sanity has been hanging on had snapped a while ago, but now even more so now that Minho is still completely ruining you just with his fingers. It’s more personal and attentive.

Seconds later, your orgasm tilts hard once more, with your eyes fluttering back and barely any sound coming out of your mouth. Just seeing you so unhinged is enough for Minho to abandon his phone and begin untying the rope around your legs that binds you to him.

His hands work quickly to undo all of the knots. The sick frantic feeling inside him boils hotter than ever now that he’s seconds away from being able to fuck you. All he has to do is help carefully lower you onto the floor once again - face down ass up.

Minho grins when he sees the blooming bruises over the flesh of your ass from impact play earlier on. He slaps a cheek once, but you barely feel any pain. As expected from a person deep in the realms of sub space.

“You’re gone aren’t you?” He practically asks the question to himself since there’s no chance of him getting a response.

One second you hear the rustling of his pants and in the next you feel the tip of his cock gliding gently over your slit.

“Yes, fuck-“ he hisses, one of his hands already gripping your ass again. His head tips back as he pushes the tip in slowly then back out. Slowly but eventually, Minho has stuffed you full to the absolute hilt.

“Shit,” his eyes almost roll to the back of his head from the wet heat wrapping around his dick.

Despite how extremely overstimulated you are, there's a relief that spreads throughout your body as a triggered response to be filled out by his cock. On top of the dull pain that’s put you under and the haziness your brain is submerged in, you still feel pleasant. That satisfaction of finally being able to clench around something is enough for more euphoria to start building once more.

Minho then eases himself into a steady pace. If he starts fucking too hard, too fast, he’ll cum before he gets the chance to say so. But Minho’s needs are insatiable at this rate. The minute his cock is inside of you, all of his rationale is out the gate.

So he caves into his own greed. He snaps his hips forward, harder and faster, swearing under his breath in the process. You can almost feel his fingernails dig into the skin of your ass when he begins approaching the edge of his own orgasm.

With a few shallow thrusts, he takes it slow for a short while, “feel…so good,” he mutters to himself.

The pressure rises in the pit of your stomach to an unfathomable intensity. That dense sensation grows so much that you hold zero idea of how hard it’s going to hit. Meanwhile, Minho continues to thrust at a pace that satiates his own needs without cumming too early. But the feeling of your walls clenching unintentionally around him makes it difficult to hold back.

With your inability to count in the present moment, in some far away thought, you knew you were about to cum again. Minho knew it too, he could feel it happening in real-time when began hitting that very spot that can make you spasm without warning - make you cum without warning.

It happens too fast for your mind to catch up, but the burst or euphoria explodes rapidly throughout every cell in your body. The feeling is indescribable, making you tremble and squirt for Minho as you’re about to hit that wave.

“Min…p-please, I’m cumming…” you strangle with the words for them to come out of your mouth.

“I know baby, cum for me…one more time.”

There was no controlling it but Minho couldn’t give a shit. He wants it - needs it. To feel and see just how much he’s making you cum. It’s on the floor, almost making your knees slip as Minho fucks into you harder than he’s ever done tonight.

You can’t see the sick grin on his face when he realises what he’s made you do.

“That’s it,” he sighs from the relief he’s getting while your walls clench around him.

Minho breaks through into pure ecstasy. He feels high on how good the sensations are right now. It’s not too long after a few more decent thrusts before he starts spilling white inside of you, coating your walls and gripping your hips.

He needs to give himself some time to come down from that. The sheer intensity of his own orgasm makes him think how you were even able to handle more than five in one go. Then again, he knew in the back of his mind that you could do it.

He gently slides out of you, pulling up his pants and leaning back on his heels to admire the view he created while he catches his breath. It then dawns on him that he needs to get you out of your restraints.

He unties your arms first before helping you sit up. It feels good to not feel so restricted anymore. But even though the rope is gone, it still feels like it's there. Even when you make it onto the bed on your own - without his help, your entire body feels like it’s bound.

“I’ll be back.”

You hear Minho’s voice in the distance as he walks out of the room. Everything is cold and filled with silence. It’s not something you've experienced after an intense scene. It’s not doable to speak because you lack the energy to speak up.

There’s a low buzz in your brain from the point where Minho had gotten up from the floor. From what you can recall, Minho had made you cum more times than you can almost count on both hands. Having one orgasm takes enough energy out of a person let alone at least nine - one after the other from repetitive overstimulation.

All those ‘feel-good’ chemicals in your brain have suddenly dried up, creating cold moments of self-awareness where the pain Minho had unleashed is starting to catch up to you. The realisation becomes entirely sobering that it feels like there is more pain than what was initially there to begin with. Your ass stings, throbs, and burns. Not in the way you normally welcome.

Even with him in the same room getting ready to clean and sterilise the equipment he used, something just doesn’t feel right. You feel cold and empty but unsure of what it actually is to make a full assumption.

The other half of your attention is drawn back to what just took place. In some aspects, you were caught up with the idea that maybe Minho might’ve felt annoyed or even dissatisfied with your performance. He said you were loud, had to tell you to breathe, to not touch him when he said you weren’t allowed…

When everything began to stack on top of each other and your guard was down, insecurities seeped in. As a result, you just felt like a gross, icky, and used thing. As that thought hits, you feel tears well up in your eyes. To avoid raising suspicion from Minho, you prop yourself up from the bed and start heading for the shower.

“What are you doing?” He asks, watching you.

“Having a shower,” you answer, wobbly on your feet. Your throat was a bit croaky, having not been able to speak properly in over an hour.

“But, you don’t want to lie down a bit more?” He questions. “That scene wasn’t easy-“

“No, it’s okay,” you interrupt him. “I just need one now.”

Minho’s eyes scan your expression. If you’re okay, then he is. The only issue is that he doesn’t truly know that you’re not okay. You understand that it’s something you should tell him immediately, but with the state of mind that you’re in, something tells you that he doesn’t care.

He watches you cautiously once more and takes your word for it, “alright then.”

In the end, the shower didn’t help anything. It made space to recollect the past hour which invited unwanted thoughts. You began to linger on Minho’s words from before that had notes of disappointment and disdain for how you performed.

All these insecurities you would’ve have ever thought you had in bed, just kept popping up in your brain. It made you wonder what Minho actually thought of you - if he really loved you.

That thought would float around in your mind for the next few days post-scene. It threw you off wanting to complete any work whatsoever. In the end, you just narrowed it down to being in a bad slump, right until you hit rock bottom the next time you and Minho decided to have sex days later.

It was an odd feeling.

You were horny and needed him terribly, but that never surpassed the level of the empty and cold feelings in your chest. It was a strange thought, but you wondered maybe if you and Minho did have sex, that emptiness would disappear - both figuratively and literally.

It wasn’t long until there was an answer to your question. After fifteen minutes of foreplay, you had already been made to cum once after Minho was desperate to go down on you. It wasn’t the best of orgasms that you’ve had, but it had nothing to do with his performance.

When he did eventually start fucking you, you then realised that your brain was too preoccupied with stuffing those feelings of emptiness down. You weren’t in the moment, tainted by whatever dark hole you seemed to be slipping down.

You had been so deeply focused on trying to cum once more to make up for the first orgasm that by the time it hit you, it fizzled out before it started. Frustrated, angry, and sad, all of those emotions combined were enough to make you cry. The tears had rolled down the side of your face only to be soaked up by the pillow below.

Minho had mistakenly assumed that you did cum and pulled out once he finished himself off inside of you. From there, you didn’t think the awful feelings could get any worse.

It began to bleed into other parts of your life in the days afterwards, like when a couple of your friends noticed you had gone quiet on them after they invited you out multiple times.

‘If Minho is holding you hostage, lmk and I’ll come get you’, a text from Chan read.

‘Class is boring without you. Who’s notes am I going to copy? :(‘, another text came through from Jisung.

The guilt settled in from not contacting them back. Even seeing them from a distance on campus but not able to show your face made it all the more worse. You just didn’t want to talk to anyone, not even Minho. It helped that he was busy and distracted with his own studies, but the second you stopped responding to his texts too, the thought occurred to him that something wasn’t right.

It occurred to him during one of lectures to talk to you afterwards at home, so decided to make a mental note about it and waited for you to return.

To his disappointment, you weren’t home by the usual time after you finished for the day. He decided to wait another half an hour before texting you to ask where you were. Again, falling short, he never received a reply from you. It wasn’t only until an hour and a half later did you finally return back to the apartment.

Minho emerges from the lounge, meeting you at the front door, “hey baby, did you get my texts?”

You pause for a second, meeting his eyes and noticing that he looks rather shaken yet relieved. While trying to figure out why, you reach for your phone in the back of your pocket and switch it back on.

“Why was your phone off?” He prods with another question.

“I was out,” you respond honestly then look down at your screen to see a few messages from him. “Oh, now I see your texts.”

Minho doesn’t take his gaze off you when you place your phone away again and go to hang your keys on the hook by the door. He’s trying to articulate your body language and why you’re not meeting his eyes. To him it makes it look like you have something to hide.

“Out?” He asks. “Who were you out with?”

“Yeah, just with Chan and Jisung. I haven’t seen them in a while and we decided to catch up,” you answer.

Minho would never suspect you of cheating, yet there was just something about your odd behaviour lately that made him think otherwise. He felt like a terrible boyfriend for even thinking anywhere along those lines. But the second he heard you were with Chan and Jisung, he could breathe a little easier.

“Okay,” he nods, sighing with relief to himself. “Has everything been okay lately?”

That sinking question makes you feel sick. You don’t want to talk about anything simply because you don’t feel like it and also because you don’t know how. It’s been a difficult week trying to climb yourself out of a hole that you didn’t know how you ended up in.

“Yeah, I’ve been really tired lately and I’m not getting proper rest,” you answer, moving past him to get to the kitchen.

“That doesn’t sound very convincing,” he trails behind you shortly after. “All your texts have been saying the same thing for the past week.”

You sigh, trying further to get him off your case, “because I have been. There’s not that much to it.”

Minho can see the wall you’re putting up. There’s no point trying to climb it because all you’ll do is build it higher to the point where you’ll shut down even further. He needs to figure his way around it.

“Okay,” he says quietly. “How about you take a couple of days off to get some rest?”

“I can’t,” you answer. “I’ve got tests and tutorials and exams coming up that I need to prepare for.”

“Yeah but, you can’t just run yourself to the ground babe,” Minho digs his hands into the pockets of his pants. “You’ll burn out before our semester ends.”

“Isn’t that how University is though? It’s just a few sacrifices, it’s nothing new,” you respond defensively.

The wall keeps going up…

Minho backs down, plays it safe. He doesn’t want to prod too much to the point where you won’t tell him anything. At that moment, he thinks of the future. Even though you’re both on the brink of an argument, he’d do everything in his power to help resolve it. He thinks fighting is pointless, but it’s inevitable at times.

“Alright,” he nods, taking a step closer towards you. He slowly leans down and kisses you gently on the cheek, something he hasn’t done in a while. “I’m sorry baby. I just want you to be healthy and to look after yourself.”

Looking after yourself - it’s not something that you’ve done for the past seven days. It’s a shit feeling too. You’ve felt so down and depleted, running low on energy. Being around people - particularly the one you love, has acted as an agitator for you to avoid him.

You can’t believe your emotional instability within this past week as everything kept descending into a spiral that feels impossible to get out of. The blessing in disguise is that Minho can see all of that written on your puzzled and worried expression.

His initiative kicks in before his hands pull you into his body for a well-needed hug. It’s not for his own selfish reasons of just wanting to feel you close to him, but because he senses something isn’t right.

“I’m sorry you’re not feeling the best, baby. You don’t have to tell me what’s going on right now, but I’ll still be here,” he says softly.

His firm hold around you, his warmth, touch, it’s all enough for the glass to crack beneath your feet. For you to start falling into sadness once more. Even though you don’t let onto it, tears start falling from your eyes. When you breathe in and shudder, that’s when Minho realises you’re crying.

Minho’s eyes widen and his brain comes to a screeching halt. It’s been days since you’ve started feeling like this and there’s only one reason he could conjure as to why.

“How long have you felt this way for?” He questions.

You gently pull away from him, rubbing your eyes with the backs of your sleeves, “since the last scene.”

“The last…that was a week ago?”

“I know,” you answer defeatedly, and with guilt. “Right after the scene I didn’t feel good, and I know - I know, I should’ve told you. But I just thought that…for a second, about something but it just…put me off.”

“Say it, please,” he urges softly. “I’m not going to be mad or offended, whatever it is.”

He’s right. This is a safe space to roll out these issues, Minho has always assured that.

“I just thought for a moment that you didn’t love me or care or something like that,” you answer truthfully.

In Minho’s brain, that accusation would sound ridiculous if he didn’t have any context from you. But given what sub drop can do to a person, he’s not surprised you would think along those lines.

What he is surprised about is the fact that he let this happen. To not take care of you properly after the scene when that’s probably one of the most important tasks.

“Well, you should know that, that’s not true,” he says. “I love you like you wouldn’t believe it, and I actually find it hard trying to articulate how crazy I feel about you sometimes. I’m not just saying that because of what you said, but I need you to understand that I mean every word.”

It was a big statement coming from Minho. You know that he loves you and he will say it when he can, but he’s a man of very few words. Acts of service is typically his love language. But if he needs to reassure you, he will.

But that’s when the devastating realisation crushes him. He didn’t think there was a possibility of this happening but given the behaviour you’ve exhibited, he couldn’t be any more right in his assumption.

“I think you might be in a sub drop,” he adds, feeling even more terrible as he says it aloud.

When Minho calls it as it is, things start making sense. The crying, the sadness, burden of insecurities, avoiding Minho, losing motivation for just about everything, and that impending downward spiral you kept slipping into.

You’ve never experienced sub drop. Minho has educated you on it and did everything in his power to prevent it from happening such as aftercare. He knows that it’s the best sub drop preventative after a scene.

The absence of it is an incentive for sub drop to occur - even after vanilla sex in some cases. That’s how Minho knows that he’s messed things up. He allowed things to fester like this for an entire week.

Then something equally as horrible crosses his mind.

“You said you’ve been feeling like this since the last scene,” he says. “Which means…you would’ve been in a drop when we had sex.”

You stall for a second, remembering that night vividly, “yes - but, I wanted to do it with you so bad because I needed you, but I was also hoping that the bad, empty feeling would go away after.”

“And it didn’t?”

You shake your head, “no.”

“I’m sorry baby, I really, truly am,” Minho sighs, mad with himself. “The moment you feel off during or after a scene, please try to let me know. Tell me what you need me to do and it’ll be done.”

You nod, hoping it’ll never actually happen again in the future. But there’s no guarantee. The best thing you can do is exactly what Minho suggested; talk. Even if and when it does happen, it’ll be a lot smoother than letting things boil over within a week.

“What went wrong for you at the end of that scene? Please don’t feel bad for saying anything, I want you to be honest so that it never happens again.”

If you had to be honest with him, it would’ve been the lack of contact post-scene. Minho took off your restraints and immediately began cleaning and packing things away. There were no usual words of affirmation, no cuddling - there was just nothing soothing about it.

It also didn’t help that you decided to shower, but that was after the fact.

“I just wanted you to be beside me,” you answer. “But I also just ran off into the shower without saying truly why.”

Something as simple as that stumps Minho. He could’ve helped prevent you from dropping had he just bought you back down from sub space properly. But he also doesn’t want you to lose trust in him not just as a dom but also as your boyfriend.

"Thank you for telling me baby," he replies quietly.

“I promise in the future that I’ll let you know if somethings not right. I know it won’t be as easy as it is said, but I can try.”

A small smile spreads on Minho’s face before he pulls you back into his body once more. Hearing the word ‘future’ calms him down. So long as you’re there with him, nothing else in the world matters.

"Just know, I always care about you, and I always love you."

——————

A/N: well, after however many months hiatus, I FINALLY updated. I can’t tell you how many times I rewrote this because I wasn’t happy with it but hey. At least I’m back! Please let me know how this was - also, there’s bound to be mistakes in here even though I’ve proofread it a few times so I’ll come back and smooth those out later!

Thank you for being patient with me and for waiting! I’ll try my best to upload consistently.

- Rose x

#skz smut #lee know smut #stray kids smut #lee minho smut #lee know x reader

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arcanadreams · 3 years

Text

That time you and your demon boyfriend went viral

hi yes hello obey me fandom!! my name is Gabbi and i have never played a single second of the actual game but i have read enough fanon content for the past year to have this idea swimming around in my head and now i am finally letting this accursed thing out of my brain and putting it in yours

also i’m only doing the brothers because any more than that and i’d have an aneurysm probably. oh and shoutout to @obeythebutler and @beels-burger-babe for inspiring me with their works to feel brave enough to write for this fandom

Lucifer:

You and Lucifer go viral on Asmo’s Devilgram story!

You’re in the kitchen helping Asmo with dinner duty and singing along to one of your playlists of human realm music that you like to show him.

Asmo starts filming your cute little dance while you stir the pot on the stove because you are just adorable!

About ten seconds into him filming, Lucifer appears in the doorway with quite the stern look on his face. You know, the one that comes right before a “MAMMOOOOOON” and strikes fear into the heart of all those with functioning eardrums. That one.

He opens his mouth, presumably to tell y’all to shut the fuck up, but then there’s a lull in the music and the eldest can hear your voice ever so slightly above the song’s vocalist and he freezes.

Man stops in his tracks like someone just smacked him in the face with a midair volleyball.

Asmo can be heard stifling a laugh behind his phone.

Lucifer’s face gets so soft and he almost, almost, loosens his metal-rod-through-the-ass posture before you notice him and give a little wave and ask if you and Asmo were being too loud like the considerate darling you are.

Lucifer clears and his throat and says something like, “No, you aren’t. I was just coming to check on how dinner is coming along,” and leaves, after which Asmo immediately presses the post button.

Screenshots of Lucifer’s heart eyes for you go absolutely viral because every demon on Devilgram goes absolutely feral for seeing the eldest demon brother lose his dignified composure. It becomes a meme template. “Get you someone who looks at you like Lucifer looks at MC” and “me at the delivery demon when he shows up with my spicy bat wings” posts become commonplace. (Asmo thinks the memes are totally worth getting strung up with Mammon for laughing at them.)

Mammon:

Much like Lucifer, you and Mammon end up going viral off Asmo’s Devilgram. (Noticing a pattern here?)

He pulls a silly prank on your asses and honestly I don’t know how you fell for it. But hey, they say “idiots in love” for a reason, so...

You and Asmo are sitting in the common room of the House of Lamentation just chillin. Well, he’s chillin, you’re on the floor studying for an upcoming exam.

The video starts in the middle of a conversation you and the avatar of lust were having.

“No, Asmo,” you say. “Mammon and I don’t use pet names for each other.” Now that’s just a darn lie, and every demon and crow within ten miles of Mammon and you together knows it.

“Really? I find that very hard to believe, MC.~”

You sigh in response to Asmo’s teasing. “Okay, he has a lot for me but I’m just not much of a pet name person, y’know?” The rest of the exchange goes like this:

“Oh, I totally get it.” *pause* “Hey MC, what do human world bees make again?”

“Honey.”

Cue a sheepish Mammon sticking his head in the doorway at the bluntness of your tone when you answered Asmo.

“Yeah, babe?” he looks like a puppy left on the side of a highway oh my god hUG HIM-

Asmo turns the camera back to his smug ass face and in the background you can be heard tripping on the damn carpet trying to get up and hug your mans. (”MAMMON GET OVER HERE SO I CAN HUG YOU” “W-WHAT? I THOUGHT YA WERE MAD AT ME?!?!?!?!”)

Leviathan:

Streamer Levi? Streamer Levi.

You guys go viral the first time you make an appearance on one of Levi’s weekly (insert cool Devildom streaming service name here) streams.

It’s completely unintentional. You had been asking him for weeks to play with him on there, but he’s the avatar of envy after all. He doesn’t like sharing his partner, even if it’s with random strangers who have no real access to you.

However, he has his stream on a Thursday instead of a Friday one week, and you come into his room carrying dinner because 1) You didn’t realize he was streaming and 2) No matter what he was doing, the boy needed to eat. It wasn’t unusual for you to bring him dinner, so you had no idea why he was blushing and stammering even more than usual this time in particular. Boy was speaking in beached whale trying to tell you what was wrong.

Then you notice his screen. Oh! “Hi chat!” You wave, setting Levi’s food down on his desk in front of his keyboard. “M-MC!” He full-on whines, slamming a hand over his mouth afterwards when he remembers his viewers could hear that.

Honestly, they’d meme the fuck out of him if it weren’t for the fact that they are FINALLY SEEING HIS HENRY!!! THE MYSTERIOUS MC!!!

Chat is bombarding you with questions while you make Levi eat dinner. And by make him eat dinner, I mean literally feeding this man forkfuls/spoonfuls while he games because you love how flustered he gets when you do that.

Does it impact his score? Absolutely. Does he care? Not really when you’re pampering him like that.

You start answering chat’s questions about you while he’s chewing so he can’t tell you to stop LMAO-

You’re a natural on stream. The VOD becomes the most popular on Levi’s account in a matter of hours and soon cute highlights compilations of you and him on that stream start making the rounds on Devildom Twitter.

Satan:

There was buildup to Satan going viral, similar to Levi in a way.

Satan does have a Devilgram, but it’s basically a white woman’s Instagram with added book reviews for variety. Unless you’re a reader his account is pretty boring: candles, books, fireplaces, and cats.

However, after you two started reading together fairly often he began posting pictures of your legs draped over his while you sat together. They’d always be captioned with vague ass pretentious literary criticism.

This goes on for months, and he gains a lot of (horny) followers after the leg pics start up. He doesn’t really get why but you both joke that it’s because you have some damn nice legs and I mean neither of you are complaining about the new following.

You two go viral when he finally shows your face, entirely by accident.

The post is a video, which is already strange for him and grabs attention. In it, you’re scoffing and reading an excerpt of a book, mocking its understanding of female anatomy.

“I’m quoting here, Satan: ‘her breasts bouncing around like giant pacmen.’ I’M SORRY?? THAT ISN’T HOW BOOBS WORK SIR. WHY ARE MEN ALLOWED TO WRITE?”

(fun fact that is a very real quote from a very real book I really read last month pls save me)

Originally the camera is focused on your body, with your head out of frame to protect your privacy, but your righteous anger made Satan laugh. Like, a real laugh. The one that makes you and everyone in earshot wonder if he truly was never an angel cause he sure as hell laughs like one but anyway-

When he threw his head back, his DDD angled up just a tad without him noticing, and your face was in view for like .2 seconds. Screenshots of it are making the rounds on Devilgram almost immediately: FINALLY THE LEGS’ OWNER HAS BEEN FOUND.

Satan apologizes profusely but you honestly find it funny and you two opt to just start taking selfies while reading with both of your faces in them from now on.

Asmodeus:

I’m gonna be real with you: you and Asmo go viral all the time. Pretty much everything Asmo posts can be considered viral because of his social media following and his status as one of the seven avatars of sin.

However, there are some fairly cute highlights to be pointed out among the times you were both featured in a post that blew up.

Your favorite is probably that time Asmo livestreamed on of you guys’ ‘Nail Nites,’ as you call them.

You’re both on the floor, doing your nails and kicking your feet back and forth while talking to chat. A lot of the questions are about your relationship, and there’s a lot of flirting back and forth between the two of you.

A particular clip of the stream does blow the fuck up on Devilgram, though, when someone screen records it and posts it with a bunch of heart emojis edited over it.

“’What colors do you think best describe each other?’ Ooo, that’s a good one, chat!” Asmo claps his hands together excitedly, making sure to be careful of his nails.

Pretty much everyone expected you to say pink, but you surprised both your boyfriend and your viewers when, after a pensive few moments, you replied with “Hmm...probably yellow or orange.”

“Can I ask why, darling?” Asmo tilts his head in confusion. I mean, yeah, those colors look good on him, but he doesn’t wear them often so he’s wondering about your thought process.

“Well, in the human world those colors often represent happiness, optimism, and positivity. You’re always the cheerful presence I need in my life when things get hard, so you have the vibe of those colors.”

Asmo proceeds to burst into tears and hug you, messing up both of your nails and prolonging the stream since you both have to start over. But neither of you particularly care.

Fun fact: Asmo has the clip that demon made of that portion of the stream saved on his DDD and watches it whenever he feels sad.

Beelzebub:

Beel and you probably go the most viral out of everybody. Like this moment is an entire phenomenon across the Devildom internet.

It’s a video, or well, multiple videos, taken at the end of a Fangol game that Beel’s team had just won. Everyone is cheering and going crazy, yourself included, and you just really wanted to congratulate your boyfriend.

So, like the rational person you are, you elect to climb up onto the railing of the bleachers and wave to get his attention.

You were absolutely fine up there, and sat all comfortably motioning Beel over to you. He notices, of course, and jogs over, standing right beneath you and looking up. (Back where you were sitting, Mammon is screeching like a hyena in heat and Belphie, who is laying down, has one eye open to glare at him. The youngest knows Beel would never let you hurt yourself; you’re fine.)

A bunch of assorted demons at the game has started filming while you were sat atop the railing since you were rather noticeable. Therefore, there’s a shit ton of different angles of the adorable events that follow:

You slide off the railing, landing right in Beel’s waiting arms bridal style. You’ve got this brilliant smile on your face as you pull his helmet off. None of the DDDs filming can hear it over the crowd noise, but Beel asks you why you just went through all that trouble and you tell him it’s because you wanted to tell him how proud you are.

Soft boy’s chest puffs up and he smiles this big cheesy smile at you reach up to run a hand through his hair. You feel him practically purr at the contact, and with a laugh you pull him in and plant a big ole smooch on him.

The crowd, at least those of them that can see, scream. Everyone is running high on adrenaline and happy emotions; something that cute causes a ruckus!! When you pull away Beel proceeds to put you on his shoulders and you celebrate with him and the rest of his team.

The videos of you two being adorable go completely viral and there are some threads dedicated to stockpiling every single angle taken of the event. Beel is completely oblivious to the attention but you have a lot of them saved on your DDD.

Belphegor:

If you think Belphegor has any sort of social media presence whatsoever then you are sorely mistaken. (Well okay he actually does run some anonymous troll accounts to meme on Lucifer’s posts but that’s neither here nor there-)

Therefore, naturally, you two go viral off of Asmo’s Devilgram.

Okay so someone in the obey me tag the other say headcanoned that Belphie will go out of his way to nap in ridiculous places and my brain really took that and RAN WITH IT.

So what happens is that Belphie will fall asleep in the fucking weirdest places. I’m talking on top of the fridge, underneath the dinner table, on top of bookshelves...you name it, he has slept there, no matter the effort it takes to get there in the first place.

And, ever since you two started dating, you would join him. Sometimes it involved putting yourself at risk of great bodily harm, but the little smile he gave when you he saw you fucking scaling the countertop to reach him made it worth it.

So anyway, since Beel adores the both of you to no end, he takes pictures whenever he sees you two napping together, whether or not it is in a crazy place. He sends these to the family group chat because he thinks they’re adorable.

Over a span of weeks to months, Asmo has built up a stock of images of you and Belphie cuddles up in seemingly impossible places. Once he has about ten or so, he posts a compilation of them to his Devilgram with some cheesy ass caption like “The things we do for love <3″.

They become a meme SO QUICKLY. Like UNBELIEVABLY quickly.

The picture of you and Belphie sleeping on top of a bookshelf, in particular, is a big hit. Memes abound.

“If my girl doesn’t climb up a bookshelf to cuddle my ass, she don’t love me.” “Get yourself a partner who scales bookshelves just to be with your ass.” Etc etc...Belphie doesn’t give a shit but you laugh at a lot of them so he sees that as a good outcome.

#IM SO HAPPY TO HAVE FINALLY WRITTEN THIS #obey me #my writing #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #posts

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robinofgothamcity · 3 years

Text

♡ prompt: "Do you want me to hurt him?" / inspired by 'telephone' by lady gaga

♡ pairing: bart allen ( impulse ) x fem! reader

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / my schedule is going to become more sporadic starting next week :/ i'm going to keep the warning up until next week.

"Bart, shut up," you said, jokingly pushing him. he laughed, handing you the ice cream, "what? I'm serious! I just think that mint chocolate is better. if you have just mint, it'll taste like toothpaste and if you have just chocolate, it's too sweet so mint chocolate is a good even ground," he explained.

you felt your phone vibrate as Jinny spoke up, talking about how Bart and Connor shared one brain cell outside of the field. looking down to see who was ringing you, you saw that it was your god forsaken boyfriend for the 100th time.

"oooo, who is that?" Bart asked, looking over to your phone. he read the wall of text you had received but you quickly shut your phone off, not bothering to read it, "you gonna answer that?" he asked, a small bit of jealousy bubbling up inside him.

"don't really feel like it," you quickly said, trying to remain off that topic. Bart, clearly annoyed, snatched your phone and put it in his pocket, "than let's forget about him, right?" he asked, putting on his annoyed fake smile.

Tim and Jinny saw the very irritated face Bart had and looked to each other as they shook their heads, "those two I swear," Jinny huffed out in annoyance. "more like ( your name )," he replied, "Bart could admit his feelings to her face and she still wouldn't do anything about that horrid boyfriend of hers."

the two of them stifled giggles from each other as they watched the two of you continue to flirt openly. it was no secret to anyone on the team. it was very clear to everyone on the YJ team, the Titans, even the JLA knew that the two of you liked each other....a lot but it was that stupid boyfriend of yours that got in the way of Bart ever truly expressing his feelings for you.

"what is everyone's plans after this?" you asked the team as they all murmured different answers, indicating that they were all busy. you sighed, trying not go straight up at the moment because you knew that you'd have to deal with your boyfriends calls when you got there, "I'll stay out with ya!" Bart replied as he saw the empty park bench.

you gave him a grin, "thanks Allen. you're a life saver," you exclaimed, waving everyone off goodbye. you walked to the bench, Bart following right behind you as Bart felt your phone ringing again.

there had been a scarce few times where you did call Bart with your boyfriend problems. it was usually late at night. probably inching near three in the morning when you called him sobbing, asking him if you deserved to go through the bullshit you were dealing with your boyfriend.

Bart always felt himself getting angry whenever he received those calls. you sounded so heartbroken, tired, and emotional. he was always there to help pick you back up but not even a few days later, you were back with him, telling Bart that your boyfriend needed you now more than ever.

"he's still angry that you're hanging out with me? do you want me to hurt him?" he asked, finally taking your phone out of your pocket. you nodded, rolling your eyes, "Bart no. he thinks that my 'job' is taking too much time away from him and I being together. I swear, it's like hearing a broken record. one minute, he's mad and wants to break up and the next second, he's at my door asking for forgiveness," you explained, frustrated.

Bart squeezed your hand, tapping his fingers on top yours, "you know what you need to do," he replied, giving you a serious look. you stared at him, biting your lip, "it's hard, Bart. he's going through a lot and I'll feel guilty if I just leave him," you whispered taking his hand and holding it.

"you literally fight villains for a living and you're scared of that? you know you deserve more," Bart said, "and I've seen the way you look at other girls who decide to flirt with me," he joked, trying to break the tension. "shut up, it's not even like that," you lied, making Bart even laugh more. "but seriously, you know it's not secret that I like you." you sighed, not knowing what to say as you put your head on his shoulder.

the silence wasn't exactly awkward but it wasn't comfortable either. there had been multiple times when Bart had told you his true feelings for you and every time he did, you responded with a hum or a 'okay Bart'.

it wasn't that you didn't accept his true feelings. it was far from that. you actually did like the speedster but you knew Bart could do a lot better. you knew Bart deserved someone who actually deserved him and that person wasn't you. you weren't as cute or funny as he was. he deserved someone like Cassie. smart, funny, and cute.

the YJ tower was completely empty aside from you and Bart. everyone was out doing their own thing. Tim and Connor were at their respective homes. Jinny and Amethyst were out doing god knows what meanwhile Keli and Cassie had gone to the movies to watch a film they both had been dying to see so that just left you and Bart in the lair to do as you pleased.

"Bart, hand me the remote," you said lazily. he handed it to you as you turned it off, getting up and stretching yourself out. Bart stared at you confused, "why'd you turn it off? I was watching that!" he exclaimed. you threw the remote across the couch and getting him up, "lets do something productive and make dinner or something," you replied enthusiastically.

Bart rolled his eyes but got up nonetheless. he followed you to the kitchen as you played music through the speakers that were built on the wall. "what're you making?" he asked, seeing you take out things that made no sense.

you looked over your options and realized you could make some kind of stew or a soup of some kind. "beef and gravy stew! we have enough things to make enough for the team and seconds for the both of us," you said, getting the things from the cupboards and having Bart start to chop every thing up.

you knew Bart was dumb but that didn't mean he wasn't a kick ass cook. there had been multiple times where he had made everyone dinner or dinner even for the two of you and it always turned out amazing. you dumped every thing that Bart had chopped up and proud it into the pot before grabbing a few things from the fridge and making the gravy that had to poured in. it didn't take long but the two of you had to wait until the pot boiled up in order for it to be ready.

the song 'telepatia' by Kali Uchis played over the speakers as you finally turned over to Bart and smiled, "we just need for it to boil and it'll be ready!" you exclaimed. he nodded as you started singing the song out loud. not particularly towards him but a warm feeling in his gut made him get butterflies as you continued.

"you know I'm just a flight away, if you want it, you can take a private plane."

you looked up to Bart, wanting to give him another smile but he quickly got rid of any questioning thoughts and went in for a kiss. you were taken back in surprise. this was the first time Bart had ever put his feelings forward and actually gave you a kiss.

his kisses were soft. they weren't rushed which was ironic considering all Bart was, was being fast and always on the move. you had placed your hands on his thighs as you made the kiss even deeper. it took you a few seconds to register what you were doing when alarms rang off in your head. you had a boyfriend and by continuing to kiss Bart, you were technically cheating on him.

"Bart no, I can't," you murmured, pushing yourself off of him. he gave you a defeated look, understanding where you coming from, "I'm sorry," you replied, going back to the food and trying to forget that you even made the move to reciprocate the kiss. in the back of your mind though, knew it that kiss meant that you had fell for Bart and hard.

"I have to head home, it's getting late and we patrol tomorrow night so I think it's best we head back," you whispered knowing you'd have to deal with your stingy boyfriend when you got home. Bart gave your hand one more squeeze before getting up, "see you later," Bart murmured, getting the inkling feeling that he'd probably receive a phone call tonight from you.

you nodded, making your way towards your apartment. you had a fuck ton of messages from your boyfriend and over ten missed calls by the time you sat comfortably in your couch. you finally dialed him back, instantly getting a bunch of curse words thrown at you for not picking up.

it felt like hours when the two of you finally stopped arguing with each other. it ended with you in tears and your voice hoarse as you had finally grown the nerve to break up with him. you knew for your mental health that it was time to do it and truthfully, your feelings for Bart were growing more and more every time you saw him. there was no point in continuing the relationship if you were no longer having feelings for him and although you felt guilty by doing it, you ripped it off like a band aid.

you grabbed your phone and clicked on Bart's number. Bart on the other hand shifted in his bed, seeing your contact light up his phone. he groggily picked it up, "hey," he said in that sleepy tone of his. you hiccuped, trying to control your tears, "can you come over?" you whispered, the crack of thunder scaring you shitless, "I really need someone right now."

Bart sighed, telling you to give him a minute before hanging up. Bart had no idea how many more of these late night sleepovers he had left in him. he sped over to your place, grabbing the secret key from the back of the broken piece of wood that was attached to your door frame. he opened it, seeing you sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in one hand and your hiccups still overcoming your body.

"what's wrong?" he asked. you stared at him, tears instantly rushing down your face, "I deserve to be happy right?" he nodded almost immediately, "than why do I feel so shitty because I broke up with him?" you asked.

Bart stared at you, not believing what he was hearing. you had finally broken up with that shitty boyfriend and he was the first person you contacted.

"because that's what manipulative people do ( your name )," he whispered, "they make you feel like shit for things that you didn't even do. you're perfect and he didn't deserve you or anyone like you. especially you though," he joked, bracing you even harder for a hug. he knew it would be wrong to try and make a move but gave you a kiss on the top of your head and whispered nothing but supportive things into your ear as you tried to calm yourself down.

the rain happening outside and Bart's words were lulling you to sleep as Bart hadn't even realized that you were passing out on his side. it wasn't until you hadn't moved that Bart realized you were not longer awake. he grabbed your body, lifting you up bridal style before making his way to your room.

he placed you down on your bed with every intention of just letting you sleep and him heading home but you grabbed onto his body, sleepily saying that he was going to stay here. you hadn't even said it as a question but more as a statement. he didn't argue with it; however, and he had thankfully came over in his pajamas as he scooted you over a bit and crawled in.

you smiled softly, hugging him instantly and passing out once again. Bart placed a small kiss on the top of your head before whispering into your ear, "you'll be mine one day, didn't I tell you that?" he murmured before trying to fall back asleep.

#dc comics #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc #bart allen x you #bart allen imagine #bart allen x reader #bart allen #impulse imagine #impulse x reader #impulse #comics #fics

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intangibly-here · 3 years

Text

i miss you (more than anything)

zhongli x gn!reader

- scenario; 2.4k words - modern!au - fluff - jealousy

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zhongli isn’t one for jealousy— usually.

title from mitski - francis forever.

requested by anon.

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“an excellent choice, sir.”

again with the nicknames...

slender fingers pick up a considerably stylized box, the smooth white a stark contrast to dark, glove-adorned palms. zhongli turns the box over in his hands, inspecting the various fine print explanations splayed along the edges of the plastic. now this is...

BANG!

clink.

zhongli barely stifles a flinch at the sound of the door slamming, hinges squeaking and metal lock clicking into place with a whirlwind of motion. amber eyes flick up to the doorway, then back down to the polished counter.

five minutes late.

he sets the ice cube he’s handling into a wine glass after a brief pause, beginning to fashion up a flute of apple cider vinegar. the pattering of lively footsteps against tiled flooring rapidly grows nearer, clattering to a halt directly across the bar from where he stands.

“hey there, mister zhongli! looking just about as boring as ever!”

hu tao plops into the cushioned chair, swiveling back and forth on the seat and leaning forward to watch him pour the concoction.

(it’s designated for customers of course— though that’s only usually. she happens to claim, to his exasperation, that she has “owner privileges”; whatever that could possibly mean when the place itself is meant to serve the needs of customers: that would include the spacing and chairs they may potentially desire when they enter the premises. unfortunately, he’s given up on understanding on her whims.)

from his position across the counter, zhongli absentmindedly spies the edge of a bright-red butterfly wing from underneath her outfit’s loose, flowing sleeves, the simple pendant string looped twice around her wrist.

swallowtail.

it’s the name (”like the butterfly, zhongli! the butterfly!”) of the establishment he’s currently employed at and is “run” by the granddaughter of a distant relative (though the bar is legally owned by said relative’s family). due to his— well, rather particular (per say) spending habits and a lack of mindfulness regarding the matter of what they liked to call savings (why would there be a need for these “savings”? he’d like to protest he’s traversed life well enough without them), he’d been pushed into putting the multitude of experience from past jobs into this one.

and well, here he is now.

chop. chop.

two evenly-sliced apple slices tip over from against the blade of the knife and onto the wooden cutting board. fetching a sprig of mint from the small potted plant just below the rack of knives (growing lights and shelving did wonders in the spontaneous lighting of the nightclub), zhongli finished decorating the non-alcoholic drink of choice for the pseudo-proprietress. who knew what havoc she’d cheerfully throw herself into, archons forbid, if it were liquor. she’s already enough of a handful as it is.

he sighs in resignation and slides the beverage over. the ice tinkles in the glass confines. he does have a favor to ask today after all. hu tao gives the drink a sniff, then puffs her cheeks in mock anger.

“no alcohol? booooo, you’re such a rock.”

she takes a generous sip anyway.

“so, what did you call me here for? not very zhongli-like for you to ask something of lil’ ol’ me. archons, have you been replaced?”

she squints at him judgingly, then raises an eyebrow when he hesitates to answer.

“doesn’t look that way, old man.”

zhongli can feel the beginnings of a headache forming between his brows. he waves his hand dismissingly as if flicking away her babbling nonsense.

“i have a favor to ask of you.”

“oh-ho?”

hu tao smirks playfully and pushes the half-finished drink aside, craning her neck forward.

“what can i do for our esteemed mister zhongli, hm? hehe.”

zhongli clenches his fist under the edge of the woodwork in an effort to calm his raging annoyance.

(it doesn’t help.)

he should just ask, shouldn’t he..?

“..i’ve been pondering this for a number of days now, but nothing quite appropriate for the occasion has happened to come to mind... do you happen to have any gift ideas for...”

he looks to the side to avoid eye contact and trails off, but hu tao immediately gets the memo.

“ohhh..” her smile only grows wider, “this is for your daaaate—”

zhongli’s face flushes the slightest tinge of rosy pink and he hisses a sharp “shush!” through gritted teeth. and here he had thought she couldn’t get on his nerves beyond how she’d already acted thus far...

the cheshire grin on her face still continues to climb.

“well, you’ve definitely asked the right person! how about...”

some new polaroid film? is what she had proposed.

“it’s not some fancy-schmancy anniversary gift, no? just a date! a date! don’t worry yourself so much over it— no, don’t look at me like that. if you called me over to ask about it, you’re deeeefinitely losing hair over this— okay, okay, i got it! don’t kick me out! old man... sheesh. why don’t you get some more polaroid film and wrap it up all nice? useful and an excuse to take more pictures together! i know, i know, i’m a genius— mmph!”

he can still hear her voice bouncing around in his head (”can’t believe you’re getting rid of your boss, mister zhongli! didn’t take you for the rebellious type—”). zhongli brings his hand up to his temple and breathes out another sigh. it’s not like her idea was a terrible one; if anything, it were a wonderfully exquisite proposal— not that he would tell her.

“i’d like to purchase this, if you would.”

he hands the box over to the shopkeep, who scans the package and rings up the bill. indiscreetly, he feels up the pocket of his jacket. thank the archons he remembered his wallet today. it would certainly be embarrassing to put this particular item on your tab.

“sure thing, mister zhongli. i’m assuming this is a gift,” they eye him knowingly, “so would you like it wrapped up?”

deja vu, his brain mutters, this is very much deja vu. he shuts it up promptly.

“not this time, but you have my sincerest thanks for the offer. i’d like to wrap it myself.” he can feel his (generally..) expressionless face flaring up the faintest hint of pink and berates his mind once more. only when it comes to you...

acquiring the purchased item, zhongli dips his head in acknowledgement as he heads out. the plants hanging from baskets strung along the ceiling sway their leaves to and fro, nearly catching a wayward lock of his hair. he smooths the stray strand back.

“thank you once again, aether. let lumine know they can drop by for some tea again whenever they’d like for me, please.”

the bell hanging over the doorway tinkles when he pushes it open, and the bustle of the busy harbor seeps into the tranquility of the shop. aether nods and waves a hand at him in return, resting an arm on the cash register.

“come again.”

while he’d imagined many ways your planned outing could play out, this was certainly not one of them.

he’s approaching the meeting spot you two had decided on (right in front of the flowering quince tree near the park; its blooms resemble those of simpler, smaller silk flowers, and it happens to be quite the scenic location to wait) when he spies not only your stature, but another figure residing right besides you.

who...?

as he steps closer, he can hear your laughter, the kind that he knows bubbles out of your chest and escapes your lips unconsciously. your amusement isn’t lost on your companion apparently, because they smirk teasingly, letting out a full-blown laugh of their own.

“oh, zhongli, over here!”

your voice snaps him out of his meandering thoughts, and he stops fiddling with his earring (when did he start doing that?), continuing forward from where he’d paused in his observations of this newcomer. something starts to bloom in his chest, small and bittersweet. he’s not sure what to make of it.

following your beckoning, zhongli finally makes his way to your side, mentally taking note of your.. friend? he doesn’t remember you mentioning anyone like this before though. surely he would remember your friends, no?

his earring sways in the wind, white tassel fluttering cheerfully.

“zhongli, this is my friend kaeya. i met him when i made that trip to mondstadt awhile back, remember that? oh, and kaeya, this is my boyfriend zhongli.”

(the little dragon curled up in his heart preens at your introduction of him, small and sweet.)

ice blue meets molten gold when zhongli’s eyes dart up to make eye contact with this stranger. they squint at him, assessing, then dip into the makings of a playful twinkle. a hand reaches out for a handshake, which he returns in equal measure. interesting...

“he got a little lost touring liyue and i happened to see him here in the park. small world, huh? i know it was our day love, but do you mind if we take him around for today?”

zhongli smiles appeasingly, gentle and assuring as always. he can recognize the slightly nervous look on your face, one that’s a stark contrast to how energetic you’d looked just a few minutes ago. if kaeya’s company makes you happy and you’d like to take him around, then who is he to refuse your request? you two will have more time to spend with just the two of you later, he reasons with himself. accompanying your friend, and in turn his acquaintance, is nothing big.

(and no, it’s certainly not you calling him love that makes him cave.)

“of course we can.”

tugging at the string of his eyepatch, kaeya swiftly ties his hair back and adjusts the collar of his shirt. “so, where to first?”

zhongli takes your hand in his, squeezing softly. you squeeze back.

getting along together should come just fine.

he takes it back.

he takes it all back.

he’d accepted it at first because, well, this was your friend. he shouldn’t be controlling who you interact with nor who befriended you - that’s not up to him. it shouldn’t ever be. however— with every passing moment that kaeya inched closer to you, taking up the entirety of your attention and bringing that bright, bright grin to your face—

(this was supposed to be your date. just the two of you. he hasn’t seen you in a month; surely he can feel a bit selfish, right?)

the three of you turn the corner to an intricately-themed restaurant and pause, where even zhongli looks appreciatively at the beautifully grown bamboo stalks lining the edges of its front walls.

“wanmin restaurant,” kaeya reads, craning his neck up to gaze at the signboard. bold red calligraphy is sprawled across the rough-cut wood. “awfully simple name for such a stunning place, isn’t it?”

if he weren’t stewing in a pot of conflicted emotions, zhongli would surely inform him of how carefully selected this title was, how it represented more than just a name, how it hid at least several decades worth of effort and teachings— but as it is, he (really, of all people) has no patience for that at the moment.

first tugging on the hem of your outfit, zhongli then takes you by the elbow and hastily leads you forward to the glass doors of the establishment. he grasps your hand in his as usual, but something must be off, because you twitch a little and look at him curiously.

he turns his head away, lips pursed just the slightest.

“let us dine here for the time being. it is an appropriate time and place, after all.”

the sun shines brightly in the clear sky as if illuminating his words.

kaeya raises an eyebrow, singular eye looking on inquisitively and arms crossed, then moves further ahead of you both once more. the corner of his mouth dips in a clear show of mirth. bowing with one arm held at the waist, one not unalike a formality from a server, he looks straight into zhongli’s eyes and holds the door open for entrance.

“that sounds like an excellent idea. well, if you would.”

“thanks for the tour around you two.”

kaeya hums his thanks with a cheerful lilt to his voice as you all stand under the porchlight of zhongli’s house.

(it’s not the largest abode, but it’s cozy and sweet, and it’s definitely enough for the both of you whenever you decide to stay over. tonight is one of those nights, and they may as well become more frequent after the trip you took abroad.)

his car keys reflect the glow of the bulb, swinging around his finger in loops. they clink noisily, metal against metal, and he grabs them all at once, halfway through another turn. in his car sits a box of treasure-themed artifacts, likely old and had found its way into your hands somehow. zhongli knows you’d been meaning to give them to someone, but he hadn’t known it were kaeya— either way, the artifacts that’d been laying on his shelves for weeks were now handed off.

ruffling your hair, kaeya pulls you in for a brief hug; although zhongli can feel the bitter pang in his chest, he stays where he stands, keeps it still and small. he can wait.

that said, the moment kaeya drives off, he’s hauling you into the house and curling up on the couch, pulling you onto his lap and tugging you into his arms. the long thought over gift sits patiently on the counter. it’s waited the entirety of today; it can wait another.

right now, he needs you.

your body sinks against his, relaxing from the lively, though exhausting, day. slumped against his chest, he burrows his head in the crook of your shoulder and cuddles you, nuzzling into your neck. finally, you’re home. home with him.

it’s warm...

“..it was our day...”

you shift your head at his mumbling, lifting his chin to presumably look at his expression. your attention is his now. not kaeya’s. not anyone else’s. just his.

(his eyes are soft and droopy, smudged red making them look especially mellow in the dim lighting, and lips pushed into the slightest pout. he knows what you’re seeing when you gaze at him fondly, and you can almost see the puppy eyes he sports. how unusual of him.)

“someone’s a little jealous here, hmmm?”

you drag out the syllables teasingly, and from lips that are pressing kisses against your skin, he responds a little muffled—

“perhaps.”

#zhongli #genshin impact #fluff #jealousy #zhongli x gn!reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #request #cecilia

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theyoutubedork · 3 years

Text

“I’m always gonna worry about you, I love you too much not too,”

Masterlist

The one where you get the vaccine, and boyfriend!Harry comforts you when you get really bad side effects.

Trigger warning: COVID times, pain, mentions of needles, and LOTS AND LOTS OF FLUFF

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

A/N: ok, so I haven’t written anything for tumblr in a while, I’ve been writing on wattpad a little, but I’m lacking inspiration on that front, so I’ve been flocking to Tumblr once again. Instead of finding inspiration for the story I’m writing on wattpad, I’m gonna just completely procrastinate and write something entirely new instead. Obviously my brain has the best ideas so here we are.

WARNING: (PLEASE READ BEFORE CONTINUING)

this is based off of my personal experience with getting the jenssen (Johnson and Johnson) vaccine, which is what inspired me to write this story. I had a very tough go with the side effects of the vaccine. I’m fine now and I am not saying that you shouldn’t get this vaccine. Obviously this is a slightly dramatized version so that it is easier for you guys to understand. These side effects only lasted for a few hours within the first 24 hour period of getting this vaccine, which is very common and likely to happen. It just knocked me for a bit of a loop, that’s all. The amount of pain I experienced was something that I was willing to go through so I can get vaccinated. It is was very much worth it. Please get vaccinated, and please be safe.

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As soon as you walk through the door, you see Harry’s head spring up from behind the couch. His hair is slightly messy, evidence of one of his random, mid-day naps. His eyes immediately soften, looking at your face, which is twisted from the small discomfort you felt in your arm. You had to go alone because the vaccination site had told you so, and you didn’t want Harry to wait for you in the heat for god knows how long. Harry immediately gets up and gives you a tight embrace as soon as you put your belongings onto the kitchen counter. He lets out a quick sigh of content, being a bit more touch-starved lately, which he doesn’t really know the reason for. He finally brings his head from the crook of your neck, and melts at the sight of your adorable puppy-eyed stare.

“How did it go? I was so worried about you love, wish I could’ve been there to hold your hand,” he coos. His hand pets your head, trying to soothe you from any remaining nervousness, which admittedly, you still were. He knew that you severely disliked needles, especially when getting shots. Doesn’t matter whether it’s a flu shot or blood work, you always had to have your head turned away. Thankfully you aren’t nearly as bad as you used to be. When your were younger, you would scream and cry. There was even one time when you were super young, that an extra nurse had to hold you down like a stereotypical psycho-medical horror film. Screaming bloody murder just for protection against measles. Eventually you grew out of that phase, only having to have your mother rub her hand on your back to try and distract you.

Your mother did that a lot actually. Whenever you were upset, she would always give some sort of physical contact to remind you that she was there. Her most common ways of this type of affection was either rubbing your back or circling her thumb on the back of your palm. However, if you would get hysterical, she would even put her hand on your head and scratch your scalp or even run her finger along the bridge of your nose. She learned this from one of you day-care teachers, who used this tactic to make you finally fall sleep during nap time. Upon reflection, it definitely could seem strange to others, but for some reason your mother always calmed you down with these methods, even when you became an adult. Obviously she doesn’t do this nearly as often, given that you can control your emotions better than you could when you were a kid, and the fact you didn’t live with her anymore.

You are pulled out of your thoughts when Harry wraps his arm around your side to bring you closer. You immediately wince as his arm wrapped around your left arm, squeezing it tightly, making the arm already more sore.

“Harry, my arm,” you mutter, and he quickly lets go, scanning over your features quickly to make sure you weren’t in pain. After you give him a goofy smile, he chuckles and gives you a small peck on the lips.

“Sorry love, didn’t mean to hurt you.” He murmurs, pinching your cheek before grabbing your hand.

“Well now that you’re home, we can finally start that show you wanted to watch. I already went to the store and got you some stuff, just in case you get any side effects.” He rambles excitedly, plopping onto the couch before dragging you down towards him, your limbs already entangled with his. He adjusts slowly, making sure your left arm isn’t pressing up against anything too harshly. He pulls a blanket hanging on the backside of the couch over the two of you. You don’t let this distract you from giving him a narrow-eyed look due to his last statement. He sighs, noticing this,

“I know-“ he starts but you interrupt him,

“It’s very sweet that you went out and got stuff for me, but you know I don’t like if when you go out by yourself.” You say, tracing your fingers over his anchor tattoo as you continue, “But, you are an independent young man, who can do whatever he wants, so just text me before you go out and do that stuff ok? Don’t want anything bad happening to you,” you say softly, looking up at him with a worried look. He lets out a small “aww” as he grabs your hand, bringing it up to his lips, peppering small kisses on your knuckles before he looks at you with loving eyes.

“I know, you’re right, but you don’t have to worry about me love,” he says, wrapping his hand lightly around your neck, pulling your head closer so he could give you a small kiss on the forehead. You rest your head on his chest, facing towards the tv. You pick up the remote off the coffee table, turning on the TV to start scrolling though Netflix.

“I’m always gonna worry about you, I love you too much not to,” you say somewhat absentmindedly, since this was something you say to Harry all the time. He constantly begged you not to worry about him, and you always say there is no possible way you could not worry about him. Not just because he’s your celebrity boyfriend, but because obviously you will always worry about the people you love. People may see that as a bad thing, but it just means that you always want the best for the people you care about, and that you wouldn’t let anything bad happen to them.

You feel Harry’s ring-less hand, (he must’ve taken them off when he went out so he wouldn’t face any more risk of recognition; people are way too observant for their own good) find it’s way into your hair, lightly sifting through it.

‘Harry’s hands are surprisingly soft for someone who plays instruments as often as he does,’ you thought.

Ever since he found out about your mom playing with your hair, and other types of physical affection whenever you got upset, which he found adorable by the way, he had started to do the same, except at any given moment, not just when you got upset. You didn’t comment on it, but you secretly revel in it. He always was touchy-feely, but this was much more personal and intimate, and the way he pays extra attention to you makes you feel like nothing in the world could hurt you.

“You still shouldn’t worry about me so much,” he says, knowing full well that he will never be able to stop you. He knows that you worry about him for the obvious reasons, and that you would honestly be a bad girlfriend if you didn’t. He is one of the most famous people in the world, at least according to famousbirthdays.com.

After a few minutes of silence you hear Harry speak again,

“You know you’re the best girlfriend in the world right?” Harry says cutely, curling a strand of your hair around his fingers.

You let out a small laugh. He asked you this all the time, as if he never asked you the question before. You always brush off this comment, and this time is no different.

“No I am not,” you scoff, selecting play on the screen, the Netflix logo filling the screen. You feel Harry tug on your hair enough so he could make you look at him. This action makes your face heat up like the surface of the sun, making you try to look away from him.

“Look at me, love,” he whispers and you reluctantly comply. You see him with a tight lipped smile that rested below the apples in his cheeks. His eyes were slightly closed from how much he was smiling.

“I mean it, I know I tell you all the time, but you really are the best girlfriend in the world, you’re always so worried about me, making sure I’m ok,” he firmly states, scooping your stray baby hairs out of your face, “you’re like my bodyguard,” he chuckles. You raise a teasing eyebrow and he begins to laugh a little harder at your expression.

“Hey! You are like, the cutest bodyguard I’ve ever had,” you let out a small giggle at this, making Harry smile even wider.

“Damn right, I’ll kick everybody’s ass just for you babe,” you chuckle, air-punching the air aimlessly. Harry laughs loudly at this, giving you a peck on the head.

“I know you will, lovie,”

Later on in the evening, Harry had finished making dinner, and you were sprawled out on the couch. You usually would be in the kitchen with him, but for some reason you just didn’t want to move. Harry didn’t pay any mind, knowing that the vaccine you got was a single shot, meaning it was going to be a more potent dose. This also meant that you would probably be experiencing more severe symptoms than he did when he had gotten his two shot vaccine. He wanted you to get the same one as him, but he knew that the place you were setting up your appointment only had the single shot doses, and that you didn’t want to have to go through two rounds of needles.

He was only away for 25 minutes, so when he rounded the corner to enter the living room, to say that he was concerned was an understatement. He saw you, sprawled on the couch, your face scrunched together in pain as you tried to get comfortable. Your chest was heaving up and down at a not so steady pace. He set the plates in his hands on the coffee table before crouching down to make his face level with yours.

“You ok lovie? Dinner’s ready,” he said in a hushed tone, placing his hand on your forehead to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. However, when his hand reached your forehead, he noticed that the hair was glued to it, your forehead slightly slick with sweat. You let out a small groan of pain as your response. He immediately placed the back of his palm against your skin, not caring about your sweat. Not a fever, but not too far from one.

“Baby why didn’t you change into something a bit lighter?”

“I was going to but then I just didn’t want to get up. Or...move.” You whined. Harry’s face softened when he saw your cute little pout that you do whenever you get lazy or tired. Or both.

“Okay well do you wanna have dinner then get changed, or get changed and then have dinner?” He says.

“I wanna move as little as possible, so let’s eat dinner and then I’ll change.”

“Ok lovie...now eat before it gets cold.”

You were barely able to keep yourself up by the time you finished eating, and Harry immediately sprung into action. He quickly cleaned up the kitchen and put everything somewhat away before he rushed back to you. He had to catch you slightly since you were trying to make it to the bedroom before he came back.

He gingerly helped you out of your clothes and tucked you into your bed. Quickly shedding his clothes, and slowly getting into bed, trying not to dip the bed drastically. You immediately curled into his arms after he turn out the lights, and you let out small groans every once and a while.

“It’s alright angel, you probably won’t sleep super well tonight but I’ll be right next to you if you need anything. Okay lovie?” He murmurs, bringing his left arm around your waist to slowly trace circles at the bottom of your spine, soothing you greatly. You let out a small hum of understanding before nuzzling into his chest more, letting out a small sigh.

“You know you’re the best boyfriend in the world right?”

#harry #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #Harry styles x reader fluff #fluff #one direction #styles

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luffles424 · 3 years

Text

Moonlight

☼ Pairing: Seokjin x reader

☼ Genre: fluff, smut, post breakup au, actor!seokjin, fashion designer!reader, exes to lovers

☼ Count: 3.1K

☼ Warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, hair pulling, teasing, unprotected sex, creampie

☼ Summary: Seokjin has been back in your life for 5 years now. It’s a different future than what you had imagined, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. What else does the future hold for you?

☼ Drabble/epilogue to Sunrise

☼ a/n: Surprise! So many people were asking and curious about what happened and I got a little brain worm of an idea of what the future holds for the Sunrise pair! This can probably be read as a stand alone if you didn’t want to read the first part. I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

Excitement bubbles in your belly as you smooth the front of your dress down, hand pausing for just a moment on your belly as you give yourself one final once-over in the mirror. You’re so happy that you finally got to wear the sunset dress again. Although you have no idea what you’re wearing it for.

Seokjin has been tightlipped about his plans for you tonight. He simply told you to dress up, hinted to you to wear this specifically. He’d seen it a while ago one night when he was over, hanging in your closet. You’d told him why when he questioned why you had it hanging up, though he’d shyly told you that he had seen you wear it already. When you said you’d kept it because you wanted to wear it again, he got a gleam in his eye that you never quite understood. At least, until now with his not so subtle hints to wear it.

You smile thinking about him. It’s been a lot of work to get to this point. But it’s been so worth it. No matter the length of time. You’ve treasured every single moment.

You had spent about 2 years getting to know each other again. There was a thrill in learning Seokjin all over again. To discover the little things about the man he grew into. Hearing stories about the years you missed. Stories about friends you hadn’t kept in touch with but he had. You shared stories from friends you’d kept close but he had lost contact with. Every time you two were together was a fun adventure in discovery.

And for all the new things you were learning about him. He could still make you laugh just as easy and it was so easy to still joke with him. The new and old blended to make the Seokjin before you and it was simple to start falling for him all over again.

Then, one day, Seokjin stopped by your place unannounced and asked you out. He was panting, like he’d sprinted the whole way there and his confession was rushed out in one long breath and you only caught half of it. It took everything in you not to laugh at the wild look in his eye as he rambled, but as funny as it was, it was hopelessly endearing.

You couldn’t deny that it felt right, so you said yes. The easiest decision you had ever said yes to. Now, almost 3 years later, you’re still going strong. Far stronger than you ever were in university. You’ve both learned a lot from the past. For all that you have problems, like any human, you’ve gotten better at communicating through it. You know when you need to take a break, get some space to sit with your feelings and be able to put them into words. And it’s done wonders to make things work smoother.

You rack your brain, trying to figure out if maybe you’re missing some important date. An anniversary? No, that was less than two months ago. Seokjin took you to a private beach. Not that either of you saw much of the beach with how adamant Seokjin seemed to keep you in bed with him.

You shudder as another orgasm courses through your body. “Seokjin…” you whine.

You get a hum in response but his face remains firmly buried in your pussy, where he’s been for at least an hour and several orgasms at this point. You’d protested by your third one, whining for his cock. But Seokjin had simply pressed a sloppy kiss to your thigh as he took a moment to explain that tonight was all about you.

Apparently all about you meant he was going to make you cum until you passed out. Your entire body tingled, some weird mix between being numb and feeling like every nerve was electrified. Deliriously, your fingers tighten in his hair and tug, harder than you intend if his sharp inhale against you is anything to go by.

“Baby, please…” You give him another tug.

If you weren’t so weak, you would push him until you could climb on his dick yourself. Chuckling, Seokjin finally pulls away, face smeared with your slick and face equal parts pleased and smug.

“Want my dick that bad?” he teases.

You glare. “I will go find the nearest sex shop and buy a dildo. At least it wouldn’t get mouthy.”

Seokjin’s grin is bright as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before he swoops down to pepper your face with kisses. “You like my mouth.” He presses a firm kiss to your lips, lining his hips with yours and letting his cock settle against your soaked slit. His smile softens and he presses a far gentler kiss to your lips. “I love you.”

You give his hair another tug. “I’d love you more if you put your dick in me.”

He blinks at you before erupting into squeaky laughter. “You ruined it.”

“I ruined nothing. You’re still hard as a rock.”

To prove your point, your grind against him, making you both gasp at the pressure. Seokjin ignores the comment, choosing instead to finally give you what you’ve been wanting. He pulls his hips back ever so slightly, just enough to position himself at your entrance and then he’s pressing forward, filling you with one languid stroke.

He keeps his pace just as slowly as he ate you out. Taking his time and ensuring you feel every inch and shift of his cock inside you. He cums what feels like an eternity later, filling you further. He keeps himself buried in you, kissing you slowly and deeply, pouring every ounce of love for you into it.

So definitely not your anniversary. Neither of your birthday’s are near. Neither of you have had any recent accomplishments that need to be celebrated. You suppose he could just want to take you out, one of his new favorite things is taking you on dates whenever your schedules allow it.

You’ve told him time and time again that you don’t need elaborate dates. But he seems to know how much you do enjoy being spoiled by him, even as you protest it. Though at some point he did seem to realize that you also love nights spent at home, curled up with him on the couch together. And he’s been all too happy to flex his improved cooking skills. You’ve definitely enjoyed learning that new aspect of him too. University hadn’t been conducive to cooking elaborately. Money was often tight and so what you ate often was prepared or frozen with the occasional nicer meal when finances worked in your favor.

Tonight feels different though. There’s something about the secrecy and meticulous planning that makes this seem different than just a regular date night. You suppose you’ll just have to wait and see what he has planned for you. If Seokjin didn’t want you to know, there would be no way for you to try and figure out what the secret was.

You check your phone, seeing that Seokjin should be here soon and so you move out to the living room to wait for him. You’re so thankful that you got to meet Seokjin again. You’re even more thankful that you had the time apart to grow on your own. While the break up was painful and rough when it happened and for a while after. You wouldn’t be the person you are now without it. It makes the relationship now that much more special.

No matter what news or plans Seokjin has, you have your own to share to make the night happy. Your hand rests on your belly once more, a small smile on your face.

There’s a brief knock at the door and then it’s opening, Seokjin beaming when he sees you standing in the living room. You let your hand drop from your belly.

“Wow,” he breaths, eyes slowly tracing over your frame. “You look… stunning.”

You grin, giving him a slow look up and down. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He chuckles, finally coming closer and pressing a kiss to your lips. “I had a lot of help from this pretty amazing designer.”

You feel a pleased rush run through you and you return the kiss eagerly. It’s easy to get lost in the kiss and you almost want to tell him to just forget about whatever he has planned in favor of spending the evening in bed. But Seokjin pulls away, a slightly bewildered smile on his face when you try to follow.

“Come on. We’re gonna be late.”

“For what?”

He just raises an eyebrow at you and you huff. He honestly can’t blame you for trying to get some sort of hint or answer about his plans. Taking your hand, he presses his lips to your knuckles before entwining your fingers. He leads you out to the waiting car, helps you into the back, carefully ensuring that your dress is safely tucked inside the car before he’s moving to the other side and sliding in beside you.

The drive is almost silent, save for the soft music filtering through the speakers. You lean your head against Seokjin’s shoulder, deciding to just enjoy being with him again. He’s been busy the last few weeks with a new film and this is the first evening he’s been free to be with you that isn’t just takeout and the couch. Or bed depending on how tired either of you are.

Seokjin gently shakes you awake some time later and you blink blearily at him for a moment. His smile is endearingly fond as he waits for your brain to kick back on after your impromptu nap. You’ve been so tired lately.

“Are we here?”

He laughs and brushes a kiss to your forehead. “Yes, baby, we are.”

Once he believes that you’ll stay awake, he gets out, circling around to your side and helping you out of the car. You look around with a frown, unfamiliar with where you are. You’re in front of a tall building, windows reflecting the sunset. The building is unmarked and that leaves you even more confused.

Smiling at your confusion, he takes your hand and leads you forward into the building. The elevator ride has anticipation building in your belly. Seokjin always plans the best surprises. He’s only grown more thoughtful and kind with age.

Finally the elevator dings open, revealing a restaurant lobby.

Except the lobby is empty, most of the lights off. Are they closed? You turn toward Seokjin, brows furrowed in confusion.

He grins, gesturing towards the wall behind the host stand where the restaurant name is lit up, the brightest of the lights in the room currently. Moonlight.

“So… Me and Seokjung are opening a restaurant. Well, he’s doing all the hard work. I’m just an investor. It opens in a couple of weeks.”

You grin. You know Seokjung’s wanted to open a restaurant for the longest time. The Kim brother’s definitely shared a love of cooking and food. You can’t believe he’s hidden this from you. But knowing him, he wanted everything perfectly in place before he revealed it to you. Which seems to be tonight. “Seokjin, that’s amazing!”

He nods. “Seokjung’s ecstatic…”

Tilting your head, you inspect him slowly. “If it’s not open, then why are we here?”

Shyly, Seokjin leads you past the lobby into the dining area. It’s massive, so much bigger than you would have thought it would be, given how the building looks from the outside. The most stunning thing is the floor to ceiling windows that look out over the ocean. You didn’t know you were so close to the shore.

Without thinking, you move to the window, looking out over the sunset. The view is just as stunning as you thought it would be.

“It took months to find the right place. Seokjung was getting so frustrated that I kept saying no to every place he suggested. But I had this vision for it. This vision. Something I could bring the love of my life to. That felt like home to us... And everyone else,” he adds belatedly.

You look at him over your shoulder. He’s such a sap. You reach a hand out and he takes it, letting you pull him beside you. You’re both silent for a long moment, looking out at the gorgeous view.

“Seokjin, I’m-”

“We’ve been-”

You both start at the same time, laughing when you both stop.

You gesture for him to continue. “You go first, baby. You planned all this, you’ve clearly had this for a lot longer.”

Licking his lips, he nods. He pulls you a few feet away towards a table that’s set beside the windows, candles casting twinkling light across the glassware.

“Seokjung is cooking for us tonight.” He pulls your seat out for you, circling around to sit across from you. He looks inexplicably nervous, but a streak of nerves runs through you too with the news you’re holding on to. “I wanted to do something special. I thought being the first person to try the restaurant was pretty special. And I wanted you to be the first person to eat and see this view. I wanted to be with you when you saw it.”

Reaching across the table, you take his fidgeting hand. You love this man so much. Seokjung comes out then, hands laden with plates that he sets out on the table. The spread is truly impressive. Seokjung has to make two trips to bring everything out.

You laugh incredulously as Seokjung retreats back to the kitchen. “Are you planning to feed an army here?”

Seokjin grins sheepishly. “Seokjung was a little excited to work out the menu and have someone try everything. He’s going to ask later for feedback and you know how he is about that.”

You give a nod. You definitely do know how Seokjung can get. It’s the same way Seokjin sometimes gets when he’s trying out a new recipe. You both eat in companionable silence. There’s no need to fill the silence with a lot of chatter. It’s more than enough to just be here with him. Seokjin occasionally feeds you bites of things he thinks you’ll like and it’s thrilling to have him spoil you like this. When he sees things that you like more, he makes sure that you have most of it, not-so-subtly shifting those bites towards you.

You try to surreptitiously ignore the full wine glass throughout the meal. Resorting to distracting Seokjin whenever his eyes begin to drift towards it with confusion. He knows it’s your favorite. It doesn’t seem like the right time to explain why you can’t drink it right now. You can tell that there’s something else Seokjin wants to say. That tonight doesn’t seem to be solely about being the first to eat at the restaurant. Seokjin wouldn’t be so nervous if it was as simple as that.

Once the food is gone, Seokjung brings out dessert and Seokjin seems to grow even more nervous. As you reach out to take a spoon, Seokjin stops you.

Licking his lips, he seems to be preparing himself for something. You wait, letting him get his words in order. Finally, he meets your gaze and his face is set with determination.

“We’ve been through a lot. Had our ups and downs. Hell, we were apart for over 10 years. But somehow, despite everything, despite it seeming like we’d never see each other again. We found each other. Out of all the people in the world, we found each other again. On a beach where we had so many memories. And… and we’ve worked so hard for what we have now. I’m… God, I’m so grateful to have gotten another chance with you. I never even imagined this much. I would’ve been happy just being friends. Having you in my life again… Being able to love you again. It’s a chance I never thought I could have. A chance to do things right. To treat you the way you deserve…”

You smile when he trails off, threading your fingers with him. “I’m happy I found you again too.”

That seems to give him the confidence to go on. “I’ll spend my every waking moment ensuring you know just how loved you are. If you’ll let me. If you want me too.” He slips out of his seat, dropping to his knee beside you. Your heart skips a beat as you watch him with wide eyes. “Baby, Y/n… I love you so much. If you’ll let me, I’d want nothing more than to keep loving you for the rest of our lives.”

He pulls a small box out of his pocket, nearly fumbling it with nerves, and opens it to reveal a glittering ring. Tears gather in your eyes and you stumble out of your seat to wrap your arms around him.

“Yes, of course. God, how could I not want to marry you?”

Seokjin lets out a relieved breath, as if there was a possibility you’d say no. He’s absolutely mad if he thought you’d say no. You press a kiss to his lips, joy filling you. Seokjin kisses you for a long moment before pulling away and, with shaking fingers, pulls the ring free from the velvet to slip it onto your finger. It’s a perfect fit.

You smile at the ring. It’s so gorgeous. For a moment, you forget entirely about your own news. But then Seokjin is pulling the wine glasses from the table, holding yours out to you. Clearly intent on celebrating your engagement.

You stare at the glass for a long moment before slowly reaching out to take it. You chew your lip before setting the glass back on the table. Seokjin frowns in confusion, mouth opening to question your actions but you quickly shake your head.

“So… I have some news.” You fidget with your fingers and Seokjin is quick to set his own glass aside and take your hands in his, thumbs sweeping comfortingly over the skin of your palms. You take a deep breath and then bring his hands to your belly. They’re warm through the fabric of your dress. “I’m pregnant.”

Seokjin blinks at you, his face startlingly blank. Nerves creep in but after a moment of processing, Seokjin’s face is breaking out in the widest grin you’ve ever seen on him.

“Pregnant?” You nod. “We’re going to have a baby?”

He whoops with joy, pulling you into a tight embrace with such force that you nearly fall over, babbling about everything that you’ll have to do in the coming months.

It’s kind of funny. Back in high school and university, when you pictured your life together, it was nothing like what you have now. But somehow, despite the heartache, the distance, everything, it’s so much better than you imagined.

It’s perfect.

#bangtanarmynet #hyunglinenetwork #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #purplearmynet #btswritingcafe #seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #seokjin fanfic #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #jin x reader #jin smut #jin fanfic

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un2-verse · 3 years

Text

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (3)

Synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?

Pairing: yandere!Taehyung x f!reader

genre: angst, horror, weirdly some fluff lol

Warnings: dark themes, yandere, stalking, manipulation, conditioning, mentions of abuse, suicidal ideations/attempts, self harm, murder, depictions of torture etc (basically its gorey and fucked up), angel trap, etc stabbing and guns. do not read if triggered!!!!

wordcount: 2.2k

taglist: @yes-sol-not-soul @yoongiofmine

a/n: pt 3 is here!! honestly i wasnt expecting this amount of support as i’ve never published my writing before so thank u sm ♡ i was inspired to write this one night and i had no idea where it’d go or anything but i’m happy with the way its turning out :D fun fact abt me, i’ve been obsessed w the franchise since i was little and i actually have 2 saw tattoos, one of billy and one above saying “cherish your life” since that’s pretty much the motto of saw :) and i have quite the collection of saw/billy items so why not turn my fav horror film into a fucked up love story! let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist and pls enjoy reading^^ feel free to send me asks abt the series or anything u want~ i love hearing from u guys!! :D ps— taehyung and the reader dont have much interaction in this part,, theyll definitely be more of them together in part 4 :) unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!! tysm <33 and remember these are fictional characters and do not represent bts personally in any way!!

series masterlist

part one part two

The headlines constantly named the Jigsaw Killer, Billy. The somewhat eerie little doll that had a face as white as a Calla Lily with spirals on it’s cheeks as red as the blood that was shed during the tests. Billy was always dressed in a little black suit with a red bowtie and he was (most of the time) situated on a squeaky battered tricycle. Attached was always a tape that read “play me” and when the subjects did, a chilling voice— one that could make even the world's worst predators shiver with terror— would echo around the room.

Everyone knew that a doll clearly wasn’t responsible, yet they gave it the name Billy in hopes to somewhat humanise the face that instilled panic— they did not want to live in fear.

It was the only face behind the killings.

But this time, there was a different subject stuck in the test and Billy had made sure there was no way for them to survive.

“How are you scared of heights? You’re practically a giant yourself!”

“Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean I can’t be scared of heights Y/Nie.”

You had no idea how long had passed since Taehyung had turned up at the garage, you were too busy chatting away squeezed into the kitchen while your Dad, Yoongi and Hobi worked on the cars in the shop. If anyone could hear you both, they would think you’d known eachother since childhood— the playful jokes and light touches exaggerated that.

You’d only known him for a few hours really, if you added the time spent with him on the first day and now. It hadn’t seemed like all those weeks ago that you first met, he had a familiar presence, as though you had known him for years compared to the hours.

“I just wouldn’t imagine you to be scared of anything Taehyung… you seem so confident and fearless.”

You saw the way Taehyung looked at you. His eyes flashed with understanding.

“I did have my fears back then, much like yours.”

“What do you mean?” you had a rough idea on what he meant but you needed him to voice it.

A deep inhale and the words flowed from his lips before he could stop it, “The fear of living. I had been through some stuff you know, growing up. My mum was working a lot and my dad was an alcoholic, he was so fucking possessive and wouldn’t let her go anywhere without kicking off. It was a fucking shitshow and so toxic. This one time though, I’d pretended that I’d gone to school and waited outside the front door. It didn’t take long before I heard shit getting smashed and my dad shouting.” Taehyung was telling the truth only, he left out the part where he was also as possessive, if not more, than his father. Well, let's say… obsessive. “I just ran in the house and saw my dad towering over my mum and I don’t remember what happened but, I do remember my mum crying and my dad disappeared.”

Now Taehyung was lying through his teeth. He remembered clearly, almost like it was yesterday. He smashed the nearest bottle, pulled his mother away from the monster that scared her and stabbed him. Not just once, not twice but thirty-seven times. Hence the thirty seven tattoo on the palm of his right hand (the one he’d actually killed his father with). There was only Taehyung who knew what it meant, he counted every single time the broken glass pierced his father’s body, he counted with a smile on his face and a chuckle in his throat.

You were at a loss for words. Your mouth gaped in shock, eyes wide and your brain scrambled for the right thing to say. You reached over and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. His thumb running back and forth along your hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.” There was no way you could relate, your mother and father were happy and in love. They had the ideal relationship, one you wished for yourself. You could empathise though.

“You don’t need to be sorry baby, it’s in the past and I’ve moved on from it. I was like you though, poisoned by the roots that keep you on the ground even though you wanted nothing more than to break free and be no longer.” A silence fell over you both before Taehyung uttered, “I wasn’t successful with my attempt so now I’m here to help you.”

Warmth spread throughout your body, a smile graced your features as you no longer felt alone.

You had a completely different idea to what those words actually meant.

It was nearing the evening when Taehyung’s car had been fixed. Yoongi popped his head in the kitchen to tell him but stopped himself so as to not interrupt the scene before him. You were laughing along to whatever Taehyung was babbling about with your hand resting on his bicep, with that look in your eyes that he hadn’t seen for years. Yoongi felt himself smile as he saw you hanging onto Taehyung's every word.

For the first time in forever, you looked alive.

Yoongi cleared his throat which drew yours and Taehyung’s attention, “Sorry to interrupt guys. We’ve finished with your car so whenever you’re ready we’ll be outside.” The infamous gummy smile overtook his features, you felt yourself beam in return.

“Thanks man! I’ll be like, five minutes.”

Yoongi nodded his head in reply and swiftly left the room.

You’d taken Tae’s hand into yours, playing with the array of rings that occupied his fingers. Solemn thoughts overtook, am I not gonna see him again? Was this, whatever this is, over before it had even begun? Your eyes stayed on his hand as you turned it over and traced your finger over the inked ‘thirty seven’ on his palm. “What does this mean?”

Taehyung didn’t think twice before he practically beamed out, “It’s my lucky number.”

The difference was, it wasn’t really his lucky number… although he did see it that way. It was the number that had stayed with him. It was something he was proud of, whenever he looked at the hand that killed his father, his chest filled with pride and a joyous feeling overtook his senses. It was his first murder. Something he relished in and thus, created the onslaught of Jigsaw killings. He targeted a certain type— those whose sins would lock them up forever if they were ever found out. Racists, murderers, rapists, drug dealers, con-men. Authoritative figures who abused their power. He even went as far as subjecting suicidal people.

You see, things aren’t sequential. Good doesn’t lead to good, nor bad to bad. People who steal, don’t get caught, they live the good life. Others lie, cheat and get elected.

Some people would call it karma but Taehyung, he called it justice.

He’d started this with one thing on his mind— those that don’t appreciate life do not deserve it.

Whenever a serial killer was on the loose, the press did what they always did. They gave them a nickname. While the public had named the doll Billy. The actual killer was named ‘Jigsaw’.

This stemmed from the jigsaw piece that was cut from the victims skin, no one knew why he was doing it or what it even stood for.

It did have a meaning although unknown to the public.

The jigsaw piece that was cut from the subjects was only ever meant to be a symbol that that subject was missing something. A vital piece of the human puzzle. The survival instinct.

After all, until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.

Across town an underground abandoned warehouse, was where the next subject had found themselves.

They were suspended in the air, their feet merely dangling above the ground. The putrid smell of death lingered in every crevice, the sound of rats scurrying along the concrete floor filled their ears just as they began to stir awake.

A pain in their ribs was the overwhelming factor to them finally coming around. When they groggily opened their eyes, they were paralised with fear due to the scene in front of them.

A doll sat a few feet ahead, perched upon a tricycle. Adorned with a black suit and a red bowtie. A slow red light flashed in his eyes.

Billy.

Before the subject could even register how, when or why they found themselves trapped in a test, footsteps echoed behind them. The subject called out, “Help! Please, somebody help! I shouldn’t be here!”

A tsk reached their ears, as a disembodied voice replied, “Trust me, no one can hear you. Scream all you like. You’d just be wasting your breath, you may as well cherish it before it's gone.”

With hairs stood on end, the subject stilled. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you.” The man's footsteps grew louder. “I’m here to serve justice, that’s all.”

The man rounded the subject, settling in their view with only his cloaked back visible while he tended to the little doll. He touched Billy delicately—like he was a little child that he loved dearly. He combed his gloved hand through the doll's black hair and eventually pulled his fingers from the tresses to pat his head gently.

“You fucking psycho! Let me go!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that which only infuriated the subject more causing them to shake in anger, a movement they soon ceased when they realised something was penetrating their ribs.

“I’d be very careful if I was you, we wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now… would we?” The cloaked figure spun around. An angry glint to his eye.

“What the fuck, you’re fucking crazy. Let me out, this isn’t right!” The subject tried their hardest to swing their legs, to somehow kick the man who’d imprisoned them.

“I think you’ll find it is right. You’re unworthy of the body you possess.” He inched closer, “see, when someone purposely intends to harm others, they lose their right to life.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

The man arched a brow as he replied, “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He felt like it was a game of cat and mouse except, he was a tiger and his subject, was the tiniest prey to mankind. “But, let me remind you! Since you can’t get your thick fucking head to work. You’re a liar, a cheater and an abuser. That ring any bells?”

The subject's face dropped.

“Ah, I see by your expression you know exactly what I’m talking about! Glad to see we��re on the same page.” He shrugged his cloak off placing it to the side of the doll. “I want to play a game.”

“What game? This isn’t a fucking game! You’re sick in the head you fucking cunt!”

The atmosphere shifted, the man remained calm while the subject went ballistic.

“What is this? What fucking game?”

“You feel the machine that’s currently occupying your ribs? Well, in about ten minutes that’s going to rip you apart. I’m proud to say that trap is my baby. I’ve been working on it especially for you! How nice is that?” he reached out to tug at the subject’s legs, tormenting them like a cat would a mouse. “Anyway, as my beautiful angel trap will rip you apart, my darling little friend Billy over here,” the subject followed the direction the man's hand pointed, “is going to match your face with the ugliness of your soul.”

“Fuck, fuck this! How do I stop it? Tell me how I fucking stop it!”

A boxy grin overtook the man's face, laughter poured from his mouth as he leaned over and slapped the subject’s leg. “This is a special game.”

“Who are you? What do you mean by ‘special game’?”

He raised himself so he stood tall and grabbed a knife from his pocket, “I’m the man you call Jigsaw.” He traced the tip of the knife along the subject’s ankle, “and when I say a special game… I mean you can’t get out.” While the subject was screaming in realisation, Taehyung walked back for his cloak, hung it over his shoulder and stalked off back the way he came. He sent one last smile to the subject as he rounded them and within the blink of an eye, he gripped the knife and slashed the subject’s achilles.

A chilling scream pierced the eerie atmosphere, the subject couldn’t string words together. Abundances of anxiety, terror and pure panic took reign of their body. Taehyung grabbed the injured muscles and forced his gloved fingers in as he gripped and twisted them, “That’s for Y/N.”

Taehyung had pressed the timer before he cut the subject’s tendons. He grabbed the tape from his pocket and threw it on the ground and with a chuckle he shouted, “Game over!”

Before he reached the end of the hallway, he heard the gunshots pierce his subjects face followed by the sound of the angel trap, even this far away Taehyung heard every crack of the ribs and the noise of the body being tore apart.

Without looking back, Taehyung rounded the corner and slammed the door shut.

He’d chosen the Angel trap for the irony, the subject that was currently hanging from the ceiling was no angel. They were a fucked up, evil, waste of space. Taehyung had done the world a favour, he’d done you a favour.

That got him thinking, how much blood would you shed in order to stay alive?

[a/n: who do we think was in the trap???👀]

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revengeisourlullaby · 3 years

Text

Lucky You

Warnings: Pro hero Au, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, switch Izuku, slight mommy kink (like once or twice), dom themes, body worship, cunnilingus, blowjobs, edging, fluffy ending bc i’m feeling soft :3

a/n: hope this is not too ooc for him! i’ve always pictured deku to be somewhat of a closeted dom so i hope i did that theory justice. i also am really enjoying writing fics so maybe i’ll start taking requests if my writing is smth of interest! :)

Pro Hero Izuku x Female! Reader

Word count: 3.4k

Izuku had been on call for the past week so when he finally had the day off you guys took full advantage of it. The nights you spent with a cold spot in your shared bed started to take a toll on you. With your work schedule and tattered sleep cycle, it seemed like you hadn’t seen Izuku for weeks. You always saw the remnants of him. Water droplets around the sink, the residual heat of the coffee pot in the kitchen, but it seemed like you always missed him. It was maddening.

Today though you two decided to remedy the situation at hand. After spending the early portion of the day lounging around your home, you guys went out to dinner. Reveling in the time you were sharing with one another as well as the meal placed in front of you two, you felt like things were finally falling back into place. Once you two returned back to your home, you both kicked your shoes off at the door.

You walked into your shared bedroom to switch into some more comfortable clothes. The idea of sitting in jeans after stuffing yourself was ungodly. As you were stepping out of your jeans, Izuku had stepped into the bedroom staring at you from the doorway. You gave a small smile to him looking over your shoulder and continued to undress. Izuku returned your smile and stepped further into the room.

Sitting on the bed he followed suit and changed into comfy house wear. Walking up to the dresser, you decided to tease him a little bit. Grabbing one of his t-shirts you threw it on and turned around to look at him. You knew when you wore his clothes Izuku lost his grip on reality.

It sent him into the most euphoric orbit knowing that you enjoyed having him around you like that. He stood up to come to the dresser to grab his grey sweatpants. Looking up from the floor he saw you and his eyes widened a bit. Blinking a little excessively, a smile finally adorned his lips.

“Nice shirt right?” shooting him a cheeky grin, you wrapped your hands around his neck and he placed his hands on the curve of your hips.

“Very nice shirt. I actually think it's new.” he punctuated his statement with a small kiss on your lips, grinning widely as he pulled away. Wanting to soak up as much time with him as possible you decided to drag him out into the main room with you.

“C’mon let's watch a movie or something. We can cuddle up together.”

You heard him chuckle behind you and you plopped down on the couch, patting the spot next to you a little too eagerly. Fumbling with the remotes in an attempt to change the tv settings quickly you heard him speak up.

“So, what are we gonna watch?”

“Umm I’m not too sure, I didn’t make it that far yet.” letting out a light chuckle you finally got the settings in order. You settled back into the couch right next to Izuku and posed a question

“How bout a horror movie?”

Izuku slowly turned his head toward you,

“Y/N, you and I both know the only reason you’re suggesting that is so you can nestle into me.”

You lifted your head up to look at him and quickly he sputtered out

“Not that I have a problem with that I’m just saying” he looked down toward his lap almost embarrassed with himself. You brought your hand to his cheek and turned his face to you

“Not you getting this embarrassed already and I haven't even put the movie on. I didn’t even get to see you scared yet.”

“Y/N…”

“I’m just teasing you know that, let's put on Insidious.”

“Babe, please anything but that one.” You had to laugh. You knew how he hated that movie but you couldn’t help but get a kick out of his squirms whenever it was on.

“C’mon I know it’s your favorite...” smirking you looked up at him through your lashes. “...And we can switch it up a little, you can cuddle into me this time.” You wrapped one of your arms around his back and the other laying across his stomach.

“Alright, put it on.” he huffed out with a small chuckle following it. You giggled in excitement and started streaming the movie. This was one of your favorite films but for the life of you, your brain could not focus on it. The beat of Izuku’s heart, the scent of his cologne that lingered on his skin, the small jolt his body would send whenever he got a little scared by the film. You couldn’t help it, all your focus was on him. Now have completely forgotten about the movie, you felt that it was necessary to start teasing Izuku.

It started with small touches. The hand that was resting on his stomach you snaked under his shirt and rubbed across his toned abs. You felt him flex in surprise but he eventually relaxed and let out the breath that he didn’t realize he was holding in. You smirked to yourself and decided to become a little more bold in your movements.

Moving your hand further south, you began playing with the hem of his sweatpants. His breath hitched and he looked down at you,

“Y-Y/N- what are you doing?”

“I’m watching the movie, Izzy”

“I-I, okay”

Izuku was desperately trying to relax because heat was beginning to rush to his groin. His breathing picked up and you realized that this would be the perfect moment to tease him even more. Snaking your hand underneath his sweats, you trailed your hand across his length only to rest it on his bare thigh. You heard his mouth part open to say something, but you palmed him through his briefs and stopped him in his tracks. A breathy moan escaped past his lips and you smirked.

“Y/N, I- uh”

You continued palming him through his briefs and felt it was time to finish off the teasing. Pulling your hand out of his pants you looked up at him and his eyes were glossed over in sheer want. A glint of disappointment coming through his pupils. You brought yourself up from his side and straddled his lap. Cupping his face in your hands you got agonizingly close to his lips. The two of you suspended in time waiting on one another to make the first move. Brushing the tip of your nose against him and parting your lips you grind your hips into his.

“Baby, please stop with the teasing” Izuku moaned out against you.

You smiled to yourself, enjoying the fact that he had given into you. Capturing his lips, you kissed him like it was going to be your last. His skin against yours made your blood boil in the best way possible. Your body was on fire and your kisses were becoming full of need.

You grabbed at the hair on the nape of Izuku’s neck and grinded into him even more so. The feeling of his hardness turning your pussy into a wanton mess. Izuku brought his hips up to meet yours, his desperation for you now becoming physical. Izuku pulled away from you and looked you in your eyes. One of his hands wrapping around the back of your neck, forcing you to look at him.

“Y/N, baby, I can’t take it anymore, I need you.” His eyes were that of a doe, pleading with you to give him some relief. He rutted himself up into you to emphasize his point. You knew you had full control at this point and you were gonna take full advantage of it before his neediness left his system. Lifting yourself up, you pulled your underwear to the side and rubbed yourself into his thigh. Hearing him moan slightly, you pulled yourself from him, standing up. A small string of your slick snapping off once you left Izuku’s thigh. Leaving him stranded on the couch, you turned and faced him over your shoulder

“If you need me so bad, you’re gonna have to follow me”

You walked out of the main room and into your shared bedroom. You sat on the edge of the bed waiting for Izuku to come in, and when he did the sexual tension in the room was thick. He almost stalked over to you, seeming as if his previous neediness faded that quickly. But you refused to have your control lost this early in the moment. When he came up to you, you grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him towards the bed. With his back flat against the bed you straddled him once again. Kissing him to ensure your dominance you trailed your lips to his jawline, landing at his earlobe and you lightly nipped it. A soft moan erupted from his throat and it went straight to your core.

Kissing down his neck, you realized he still had his shirt on.

“We’re gonna need to take this off to do it right.”

Removing him from his shirt, you took a moment to admire his body. His physique never failing to amaze you. His chiseled body making you drool from excitement.

“You’re staring, baby”

“How could I not. You’re so beautiful to look at Izuku.”

Watching him go red you continued your assault on his skin. Trailing down his body you felt his breath quicken when you reached the band of his sweats with your mouth. Lifting your head up you felt his eyes on you and made contact. Attempting to size him down with just your eyes.

“Lift your hips up for me honey.”

Once Izuku lifted up his hips, you brought your teeth to the waistband and pulled them down past his knees. Coming back up and doing the same with his briefs.

“Y/N, please I can’t take the teasing much more. Just do something please.”

Bringing your head up to look at him one more time to just egg him on, you slowly slid your hand up his thigh and resting it to wrap around his hard cock.

“Now, while your begging was expected, you’re forgetting one important thing to do baby”

Giving his cock lazy strokes you gathered spit in your mouth and lolled your tongue out so it spilled over his length. His breath hitched and a small whimper slipped past his lips.

“M-mommy. Please. Please suck all the stupid cum out of my cock. I need you so bad mommy.”

Pools of lust darkened your pupils and a smirk adorned your face, happy with Izuku’s last ditch efforts.

“Atta boy.”

Lowering your head down you circled your tongue around the tip of his cock. Paying extra attention to the underside of the head, knowing how sensitive Izuku was there. Licking a stripe up from the bottom of his shaft you began bobbing your head up and down. Bringing both of your hands into play. You brought one to help you finish off the rest of Izuku’s length and the other moved to play with his balls. Once your hand began fondling his balls Izuku’s labored breaths turned into echoing whimpers.

“Fuck, mommy, Please keep doing that. God you feel so good.”

Humming in response you felt a wave of pride surge through you. You picked up your pace and sucked just a little bit harder around his considerable length.

“Fuck, baby ~ah! Keep going like that, I’m gonna cum so hard”

Deciding to egg him on because you love how desperate his moans sound, you slowly pulled yourself off of his throbbing cock and looked up at him. His cries were like symphonies to your ears. Izuku brought himself up onto his elbows so he could get a better look at you.

“I’m sorry Izzy, what was that?”

“Y/N, if you don’t put your mouth back on me-”

“Is that really the way you should be talking to your mo-!”

Izuku sat up fully and grabbed your face within his hand, squishing your cheeks together.

“Darling, I’m always more than patient with you, but I said not to tease me anymore. And what did you do?”

“Tease you…”

The vitriolic glare that fell down from his eyes told you that you had royally fucked up. Sending you immediately into a submissive space you were ready to do whatever he asked of you. Sinking further into your heels you stared up at Izuku with your hands placed upon your plush thighs.

“I’m sorry Izuku, I’ll make it up to you, let me make you feel good...please.”

Izuku stared down at you before saying anything, making you feel miniscule under his gaze.

“Get up on the bed. I think I’m gonna make you feel good now.”

Izuku’s smirk that lined his face let you know that this wasn’t going to be an easy make you feel good situation. You were gonna have to work for it and you were going to pay for your teasing bit from before. Sliding himself up in between your legs, he wrapped his arms around your hips, locking you into place. Nuzzling his nose against your clothed clit you shivered and you pressed yourself into him. Hearing him chuckle he looked up at you from your hips.

“Little bit eager are we?”

Squirming underneath his gaze you fully realized how much you wanted him, but before you could get to begging he beat you to it. On a mission to make your face heat up for him.

“Look at this body of yours baby. You’re so beautiful.”

Dragging his hands up to your chest, he dragged his hand down the valley of your breasts.

“These perfect little tits of yours.”

He emphasized his point by rolling your hard buds between his fingers.

“This perfectly cute tummy of yours, and fuck these thighs of yours. You’re so sexy baby.”

Bringing his hand down to your thighs again, he squeezed them causing an airy moan to escape from your throat.

“Izuku, please, do something. I-I can’t take it.”

Hooking his fingers into the elastic of your underwear he stared back at you, green waves falling in front of his eyes.

“And how do you think I felt, darling? But, I’m not like you, I’ll give you what you want and I’ll do it with such intensity you’ll forget how to be such a brat with me.”

Coming back up to your heat, he licked a messy stripe up your folds. Chuckling at the twitch your body made when in contact with his sloppy tongue. Swirling his tongue around your hole, he dragged his wet muscle up to your clit and began circling it.

“Fuck, Izuku, baby don’t stop.”

Feeling your cunt start to flutter with a bit more vigor he removed one of his hands from your hips and brought it down to your soaking core. Inserting his middle finger into your hole, he rubbed against your g spot. The spongy feeling igniting something within him. He wanted to bring you so close to the edge and then rip you from it. The euphoric assault happening on your pussy elicited a scream to rip through your throat.

“Fuck! Fuck Izuku I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that. Oh shit~”

Soon you felt his finger slide out of your hole and the disappearance of it made you whine.

“Should’ve kept quiet babygirl. I knew you were close but c’mon I can’t let you off that easy. But, I’ve got something even better for you.

Izuku brought himself up from your hips and lowered his head down to kiss you. The taste of yourself fresh in your mouth. His tongue trailed itself along your plump bottom lip asking for further entrance into your wet cavern. Opening your mouth a little wider, your tongues danced for dominance. You felt his hips roll into yours and you reciprocated the action aching to get just one feeling of your boyfriend’s fat cock.

“Can you feel it, grinding against you baby. You feel how much I want you. How much I want to be inside your cute little hole”

You grabbed his face in both of your hands and forced him to look down at you. A little bit of your dominance coming back for this small moment.

“Yes, I feel it and I want you inside me so bad Izuku, I need it. I need you inside me. I want to feel every inch of you caressing my walls.”

Bringing his forehead down to rest against yours, he rubbed in your arousal just a little bit more.

“Yeah, you sure that’s what you want baby?”

“Yes! Now please, fuck me Izuku, please!”

With that Izuku smiled, pleased with your performance of begging so earnestly for him. He lined his cock up with your weeping entrance, your hole twitching with just his head poking into it.

“Izuku please- please just put it in I don’t think I can ho~ah! Fuck!”

Izuku had thrust the rest of his length into you. Sending you into a state of such bliss, your eyes rolled into the back of your head and a moan so loud came from your throat. Your hands clawed at the sheets below you in a poor attempt to ground yourself against Izuku’s pounding.

“Look at that cock disappearing inside you angel. Fuuckk, you take me so well.”

Izuku’s head dropped so that it nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his hot breath creating small droplets of moisture upon your neck. You felt his rhythm begin to speed up and in doing so he angled up just slightly, attacking your g spot. You couldn’t help but whimper against him. Bringing your hands up from the sheets you sent your nails into his back. Causing a growl to erupt on his end.

“Fuck! God damn those nails baby. You must really like the way I’m fucking you, yeah? I can feel you squeezing down on me.”

Wrapping your legs around his back you pulled him closer into you feeling your rapture on the horizon.

“Yes, fuck I love it so much. So much, I’m gonna-”

Remembering the denial Izuku brought earlier to you, you stopped yourself. Giving a quick moment to rearrange your words.

“Please Izuku. Please let me cum. I need it. ‘N I want you to cum inside me baby, please fuck!”

Izuku pistoned his hips, his cock hitting you in your most tender spots and sending you right over the edge. Your orgasm ripped through you causing your body to convulse in pure bliss. Unable to control your body a moan coursed through you, sending Izuku to his break. Your begging and incessant twitching throwing him over his climax. A graceless joint of euphoria overcoming you two as you felt his hot seed paint your walls his color.

Pants filled the space in the air making up for lost words. The room smelled of sex and yet the only thing that filled your mind was the beautiful man above you. His green locks sticking to his face and the previous lust in his eyes being replaced with adoration for his lover beneath him. Pressing a gentle kiss to your lips he pulled away to look at you once more.

“God, I love you so much Y/N. Every time I stare into your eyes I swear I fall more in love with you each time.”

Pulling himself out of you he rolled onto his back letting a sigh fall past his lips. You rolled over onto your stomach crawling up to him. Resting your head on his chest you brought your hand up to his neck and fingered through his hair. Trailing your hand to his face, rubbing his cheek with your thumb.

“I love you too Izuku. Sometimes more than what’s good for me. But I can’t help it. Something about you keeps me wanting more. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Now having made Izuku red and at a loss for words, he settled for a kiss on your forehead and you two laid in each other's presence. Soaking in the ambiance of each other.

#midoriya x reader #deku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku smut #midoriya smut #pro hero au #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia smut

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cellsshapedlikestars · 3 years

Note

Hon' if you are accepting prompts (and only if you are!) can I have some spooky Sansa and Jon? I'm still not over them in spooky scenarios so I would love to read anything about it.

And for something a little more specific (in case that helps): maybe ghost!Sansa and Jon moves to her place and she is not happy, but also she loves his dog?

Or maybe Addams AU!

Or maybe Jon is the ghost and Sansa moves into his place?

Or they are talkshow hosts or something and a ghost is trying to get them together?

Or maybe YouTubers AU and their followed bug them until they agree to a Collab and it's Halloween or something like that?

Okay I went all over the place and clearly have too many ideas, but feel free to choose any of you do choose something!

First of all, I guess I'm sort of always taking prompts? I'll never turn them away, though they may also sit in my inbox forever (I'm looking at you, the last anon prompt from when I asked for them back in December...)

Second, spooky prompts! ❤️👻❤️👻❤️ If there's anything I love in this world, it's the supernatural/paranormal. And it may be the middle of summer, but I'm already longing for spooky season and I've been trying to vibe with it but it's hard when the days are so long, hot, and humid. (I desperately want to be able to go outside and not feel like I'm breathing soup, thank you very much.)

Before I get to the prompt itself, because I'm too wordy for my own good - your one prompt of Sansa/Jon is a ghost and the other moves in to their place... well, I've read that fic! It's actually locked on AO3 and I don't know if that means the author doesn't really want people finding it/linking to it, so I won't, but I guess DM me if you wanna know what it is?? I don't know the protocol for that. There's also Haunt Me, Then by the lovely @ode-to-an-inkwell which I read back when I was lurking and I loved it. It's the same base premise, but with a ton more plot!

The prompt I have chosen is the youtuber collab! Because I also love writing about/dissecting social media, apparently.

Sansa breathes – deep and even – and tries to stay centered in the middle of her group (away from the edges, away from the dark corners and the sounds coming from them and the people she knows are waiting for her there).

She wishes with all her strength that her followers had never found out that she's related to Robb. It's not something she was hiding, necessarily, but when she started her channel, she'd kept a lot of her personal life private. And honestly, she never thought it would get to this point – the point where she has millions of followers and Robb and Theon have millions of followers and those followers inevitably found out she and Robb are siblings.

A collab had been unavoidable. She just wishes it were any other activity than... this.

She lets out a strangled scream as something crashes to her right and she stumbles left, straight into the other person who's been dragged along tonight – Jon Snow. He catches her arm and keeps her upright and she almost thanks him until she hears him let out a laugh. It infuriates her and she rips her arm out of his grasp and sends him a glare, though it's short lived when she sees what looks like a jar of eyeballs on a shelf behind him and bile twists in her stomach.

She hates Halloween - she hates horror movies and jump scares and gore, and she especially hates haunted houses. But what else should she have expected for this collab? Robb and Theon have a dumb prank channel, of course they'd bring her – notorious wimp Sansa Stark – to a haunted house for the video. She thinks Robb got permission to film, because Dacey and Olyvar are flanking them with cameras to capture everyone's reactions.

“It's all fake,” Jon reminds her, though she barely hears his voice over the din of sound effects echoing through the dark corridor as they pass from one room to another.

“I know that,” she hisses, heart pounding wildly. They approach a doorway and – sure enough – right as she passes through, there's a person with heavy special effects makeup waiting on the other side to grab at her (another thing she resents – this is one of those places where the actors can touch you. They'd had to sign a waver). She screams in the actor's faux-bloody face and she swears he laughs at her.

In front of her, Robb and Theon are being obnoxious as usual. She doesn't really condone their prank channel and has often had to reign them in from doing something that would get one of them needlessly hurt (or would be considered, you know, illegal). Jon is usually an unwilling participant in their videos, and he has his own woodworking channel that has nowhere near the viewership that her makeup channel or Robb and Theon's prank channels do (she's told him, over an over, that if he showed his face on camera, he'd get more viewers, but he insists that he wants the focus to be on his work, not him). Jon walks next to her, calm, like nothing in this place fazes him, and she sort of resents him for this.

She understands it's all fake, she's not stupid, but that doesn't stop her fear response from kicking in every time something jumps at her, every time lights flicker or go out. It doesn't stop her stomach from turning whenever she sees the needlessly gory scenes like that doctor cutting a girl open, her fake intestines spilling out as the actress screamed.

“It'll be over soon,” Jon leans in close so she can hear him better, and for a moment a sense of calm washes over her. She loses it, though, as he moves away to give her space and she panics and reaches out and grabs his hand, tugging him back close to her.

A strange look passes over his face, but he doesn't say anything, just lets her grab onto his arm as they continue through the haunted house. She can't explain it, but with Jon next to her she feels... safe. She knows none of this is real, she knows none of these actors will actually hurt her, but it doesn't seem to matter, and it doesn't seem to matter that Jon won't actually have to protect her (though she somehow knows that he would if he ever had to, and that's a strange realization to have as she's walking through a room of terrifying clowns).

When it's finally over and they're outside, she breathes a sigh of relief and she feels muscles that she hadn't even realized were tensed relax.

“That was awesome,” Theon nearly shouts at one of the cameras. He and Robb talk loudly and animatedly for the cameras about the house, summarizing it for their audience (she knows they're likely to cut out a lot of the extreme scares and gore, since a good portion of their audience are kids and young teens).

“You good?” Jon murmurs to her and she realizes she still has a death grip on his arm.

“Oh,” she breathes with a forced laugh, “yeah,” and she lets go of his arm and immediately wishes she could have it back. (And then, some part of her brain whispers that she wishes she could have his arm wrapped around her instead, but she pushes that thought out because where did that even come from?)

Jon brings a hand up to scratch at his beard and shifts on his feet and she wonders if its because he feels awkward on camera. Jon's never liked being on camera, not really – it's why Robb and Theon always have to catch him off guard and why his videos – at most – only feature his hands and forearms (the comments on his videos about how attractive his hands and forearms are had been one of her main arguments for showing his face, but Jon had gotten weird after that and so she'd dropped it eventually).

“Hayride next?” Robb asks, which brings her back to the present.

“There's more?” she whines, twisting her face into a pout that always got her out of trouble when she was a kid, but Robb and Theon are already making their way towards the next attraction.

“You can sit next to me,” Jon offers, and she feels relief flood through her. “I'll be on the outside.”

She feels herself smile for the first time all night and nods and she's even more pleased when he – after a moment of hesitation – holds out his arm for her to take. She does so, curling her own arms around his and hugging it to her, keeping herself as close to him as possible as they walk through the fairgrounds to the haunted hayride.

They arrive right behind Robb and Theon and when Robb sees the way she's basically clinging to his best friend, there's a look that she can't figure out – it flicks from their joined arms, to Jon, then back to their arms, then to her, then back to Jon again and she feels Jon stiffen up next to her. Something silent passes between them and Robb looks almost... concerned? But then Jon shakes his head so subtly she thinks she's not supposed to see it and Robb nods back and turns around to face Theon and the cameras and Sansa's left more confused than anything.

The next tractor and wagon pull up to the entrance and the previous riders disembark. She waits with Jon, and though there's a slight fluttering in her stomach, she's not terrified like she had been right before the haunted house. Jon keeps his word and as they climb onto the open-topped wagon, he lets her sit in the middle and he takes the outside so she won't have to deal with the actors that run up to them during the ride. She settles into the hay and, without thinking, leans her head on his shoulder, arm still linked through his.

“Thank you,” she says.

“Robb and Theon shouldn't have made you do this,” Jon says back and his voice sounds a bit shaky. She can't see his face, she's too comfortable resting her head against him to look up, but she wonders why he sounds nervous. Maybe he's more scared of all of this than he was letting on? He hadn't seemed nervous at all in the haunted house.

“Don't worry, I'm going to have so much fun giving them a full face of glam makeup when it's time to make the video for my channel.” That's the point of this collab – she does a video for their channel and they do one for hers.

Jon lets out a soft laugh as the tractor starts up and the wagon lurches forward, heading into the dark forest. “Can I watch?”

“Definitely,” she says as she squeezes his arm tighter, her heart jumping at a noise off in the woods – a signal that the scares are about to start. “You should let me do your makeup,” she continues to try and distract herself. “I think glam makeup would look amazing with your beard.”

“Sure,” she can feel his shoulder lift into a shrug, and that does make her lift her head up and look at him.

“You would? I thought you hated being on camera?”

He shrugs again, but whatever response he was going to give is cut off as an actor takes a running leap at the wagon, latching onto the side and pulling himself up, and the passenger nearest to him (right in front of Jon) screams. Sansa sucks in a breath and tries to calm her racing heart (and out of the corner of her eye, she sees Dacey with a camera pointed right at her and Jon, a smirk on her face).

She spends the rest of the ride (and all through the haunted corn maze), hanging onto Jon for dear life and she swears his calm presence is the only reason she survives.

(And when she finally gets home to her little apartment and gets into bed, she tries desperately not to think too hard about why that is. She tries not to analyze the safety she felt with him or the way her heart had been fluttering during the car ride home, sitting in Robb's back seat and staring at Jon's profile illuminated by moonlight in the front seat as he and Robb talked and joked around. She tries not to obsess about the way he'd told her to call him if she ever wanted him to be in one of her videos, tries not to read too much into the look Robb had given Jon when he said it.)

(She tells herself that the reason she can't sleep that night is because of the haunted house.)

(It's definitely not because of Jon.)

#ask #prompt fic #jonsa #jonsa fic #spooky season baby #we're starting early #though really #does spooky season ever end?

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