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moonlit-reveriee · 3 years

Text

NSFW Alphabet

ft. technoblade

concept: a collection of my own personal nsfw headcanons for techno, one for each letter of the alphabet

@saturnsstufff ‘s discord saw it first ;)

A = Aftercare

I like the idea that techno actually gets very clingy after sex. He’ll get up and grab a glass of water or a towel if either of you need it, but if he’s able to, he’ll stay glued to your side the whole time. Even if he won’t admit it, he needs to have that intimacy after sex. He loves the feeling of your body pressed against his as you both cool down. Usually, his hands will be absentmindedly drawing patterns over your skin

B = Body part

Kind of an oddly specific one, but he loves your shoulders. He loves to casually rest his chin on them as he holds you from behind, and bury his face in the crook of your neck as he presses heated kisses on your pulse point. He also considers the way a person carries their shoulders to be an indication of their strength, and how could he see anything but strength in you.

He hadn’t put much thought into his own body before meeting you. He’s learned to love parts of himself because of you. Particularly his scars. They way you gently run your fingers across the rough surface of them, in both intimate and casual settings, made him crave the touch. Now when he looks at them, he thinks of your hands moving across his skin

C = Cum

Fun fact: pigs have 30 minute orgasms

Early on in your sexual relationship, he was very embarrassed by just how much of it there always was. But once you started praising him for it, that became a very different story. He started to take pride in how well he could completely fill you up without even trying

D = Dirty Secret

He would probably never admit it to you, but it’s become a habit of his to think about the last time he had sex with you during battles. He starts to make sure you two always have sex the night before a big fight, so his mind can wander back to it during the haze of battle. He’s not sure if it’s a coping mechanism or what but it certainly helps

E = Experience

You are his first ever sexual partner, but somehow he just.... already knows what he’s doing?? He’s very nervous and considerate the first time, but he does everything perfectly. Once you tell him that, he’s very happy and secretly a bit proud of himself

F = Favourite Position

He loooves to have you in his lap. Either facing him, back to chest, it doesn’t matter. He’ll do everything with you in his lap. Cockwarming, fingering, thigh riding, anything you and him are physically able to do in that position

G = Goofy

He’s usually a bit more on the serious side. Sometimes the two of you will quip at each other during foreplay, but once he gets going, it’s all business. In the moment, he likes to treat is as something special (doesn’t mean he won’t tease you about things after the fact)

H = Hair

He likes to keep himself clean-shaven most of the time. When he’s relaxed and doesn’t have to go to any public events for a long period of time, he’ll let a small amount of stubble grow on his chin. You can always tell when he slacks off on it, cause the stubble on his face brushes roughly against your skin as he kisses down your body...

he doesn’t really shave much below the neck, but he keeps it clean and trims occasionally

I = Intimacy

He’s surprisingly romantic when he wants to be. It’s definitely a side of him only you’re allowed to see. Alone together in his bed, he’ll whisper sweet nothings to you as he slowly draws you to your climax. Even when he’s speaking the most lewd and naughty things to you, he somehow makes them sound affectionate and full of love

J = Jack Off

He loves to watch you masturbate. The first time was a complete accident. He came home late one night to find you curled up with his blankets, breathing heavily as you massaged yourself over your underwear. It wasn’t long before you noticed him in the doorway and jumped, worthlessly attempting to hide what you were doing. He wasn’t sure if it was the blush on your face or the fact that the blanket you chose to cover yourself in was his cape but something urged him to sit on the edge of the bed, still in his armor, and ask you to continue. It was beautiful to simply sit there and watch

K = Kink

He’s a little bit possessive. He loves to mark you in subtle ways so you always remember that you’re his. Especially if you’re going on a trip without him. He’ll drape you in gold jewelry and leave a hickey just out of sight on your neck for good measure. The part that he loves the most about it though, is that you know exactly what he’s doing and show off his signs of possession with pride

L = Location

He prefers to keep most of your sexual acts to the area in and around his cottage. Other than in bed, he loves to press you up against a wall. Sometimes you two get distracted while tending to the farms and end up heatedly making out in the snow. One time, you decide you wanted to lay out some blankets on the floor and do it right in front of the fireplace. He adored the way the firelight danced across your skin. (He’s thought about taking you down to the syndicate room and laying you out across the table. But he came to the unfortunate conclusion that during meetings, he’d never be able to look anyone straight in the eyes ever again. So he’s shelved that idea for the time being. Maybe once the group has disbanded...)

M = Motivation

He loves to be praised by you. During regular day-to-day life, he doesn’t like to accept any compliments from you, usually just brushing them off or responding with a joke. But when you two are alone together and intimate, he drinks that shit up. How can he not believe it when you look up and him with lidded eyes and tell him just how good he makes you feel. Just moaning against his lips as he kisses you is enough to keep him going for a while

N = NO

He will never do anything that involves seeing your own blood. It sets off the voices too much. One day, you randomly got a nosebleed while cooking dinner together. He could smell it before he even saw it. When the voices recognized the deep red color dripping down your face, they wouldn’t stop chanting. He tried to help you clean up, but it became too much to ignore. He had to go out back and slaughter at least a dozen zombies before they shut up. And even then, he was left with a pounding headache. You were extra gentle and sweet with him when you cuddled up in bed together that night

O = Oral

If you’re on the receiving end, be prepared for him to be down there a looooong time. Once he gets his mouth on you, it’s hard for him to pull away. He loves your smell and taste too much. He tries not to get too carried away, but there was one time he made you come 5 times in a row with just his mouth. He was very thorough with his aftercare that night.

He isn’t the one receiving very often. He only really likes it when he’s tired. He loves to sit back in a chair and watch you gently suck him of on your knees in front of him, one hand gently weaving it’s way through your hair

P = Pace

I always imagine him on the slower side. He likes to savor every moment, making sure that every thrust or movement of his hand is intentional and perfectly placed. He takes time to watch you carefully to make sure you’re getting exactly what you need. He’ll go harder before he goes faster

Q = Quickie

As much as he loves to treasure your intimate time together, there are times where he just needs it. Every once and awhile, he’ll be desperate for it and quickly have you against the wall before heading out to run some errands. Sometimes he’ll pull you in, make you cum, and head out the door without saying a single word. He usually feels the need to make up for it when he returns, but you’ve assured him many times that you love sex with him at any pace

R = Risk

Since he’s still fairly inexperienced despite his skills, he’s not super adventurous himself. More often than not, you’re the one bringing new ideas to the relationship. He’s willing to try the new things you suggest. You’ve had a discussion about your limits, and you both understand what goes too far for each other

S = Stamina

He can go multiple times in a row if he wants to, and for a long time. He lowkey loves it when you tire out before him, and you let him keep going while you lie there sleepily in his arms

T = Toy

He doesn’t own any sex toys, but he likes to make sex toys out of everyday objects (as long as they’re safe and properly cleaned of course). He likes the idea of never being able to look at that object the same way again, especially if it’s something either of you use around the house frequently. He would get his hands on some actual toys if you wanted him to. If toys are involved, he prefers them to be used on you, not on him

U = Unfair

He likes to randomly tease you during moments that are absolutely not sexual. Maybe you’re brushing out his hair, complaining about the knots in it. He’ll suddenly respond with “that’s not what you told me in the bedroom last night” leaving you to sit there in shock while he laughs. Or he’ll quote things you said to him during sex completely deadpan and watch as the blush rises to your cheeks

V = Volume

He’s not extremely loud. When he is loud though, he growls. You’ll be able to feels his chest vibrating when you lean into him. Sometimes you can even feel the vibrations through his lips as he pleasures you with his mouth, which is an absolutely crazy and wonderful feeling.

During very domestic moments, he likes to talk a lot during sex. If he comes home from working all day, and he’s missing you greatly, he loves to tell you all about his day while his cock gently rocks inside of you

W = Wild Card

This part is definitely just gonna be me fulfilling one of my personal kinks, but I love the idea of techno going through a heat since he’s part piglin. Maybe it only happens like once a year, but when it’s that time, his senses are kicked into high gear and he’s desperate for you. The two of you have a routine for it by now. You prepare the bedroom by gathering every blanket in the house, and prepping a week’s worth of food & water that can be eaten quickly during the moments when techno’s haze of arousal drops. Once he feels it start to set in, he locks the bedroom door and allows his senses to become completely enveloped by you

X = X-Ray

I like to believe that a lot of the hybrid races are PACKING. It’s one of the many things he’s nervous about on your first time, but seeing the way your able to take him so well every time is such a turn on

Y = Yearning

Both you and him can be too tired to have sex at times, but if he’s able to have you, he’ll take everything he can get. He loves to take care of you if you’ve had a long day, and he knows you’ll do the same for him

Z = ZZZ

If it’s nighttime sex, he can pass out as soon as aftercare is over. But if it’s morning or midday, he can have sex and go about the rest of his day no problem. Since his orgasms are so long, he likes to make you cum more often than he does, and watching you cum invigorates him

#mcyt x reader #techno x reader #technoblade x reader #mcyt smut #techno smut #red:moon #c!techno

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angelguk · 3 years

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OMg angst thoughts for jock couple...one of them (probably oc) most likely got stood up for a date bc jk has trainings so oc goes on a spiral thinking abt what if theyre just in this relationship cos its comfortable for them and like theyve known each other the longest and maybe theyre dating bc of some twisted ver of stockholm syndrome n oc gets all 😔😔💔😡 and starts ignoring jk for some time

i have been mulling over this for awhile (i think you also sent a follow-up angst ending but lets set the scene first shall we)

pairing: jock!jk and oc

warnings: angst, poor communication, oc being insecure and jk being clueless (and kind of an asshole)

soundtrack: antidote by gas dapperton

(titled — bite the hand that feeds the heart)

You’ve tapped your phone on roughly ten times now, narrowed eyes staring at the time with each lighting of your screen. Every minute that ticks by sinks deep into your heart, clawing something open there, ribs struggling to keep your feelings contained. But you can feel them swelling at the brim of your gaze, eyes blinking harsh under the subdued tawny glow of streetlights. You kick you shoes against the ground to speed up time, pressing your back into the hard brick wall behind you, searching for some sense of support. Even with your mindless excursions, the time still drags on, shifting from ten to fifteen to thirty idle minutes waiting for your lover.

He turns the corner the second you decide to give up and go home.

“Hey!” Jeongguk’s hair dances in the night wind, delicate curls lifting gracefully. “Sorry–sorry! Coach kept us late for a team meeting and then Yoonoh wanted to borrow my notes and then I found out I had an essay due which I had no ide–”

“It’s okay.” You cut him off with an iciness, kicking yourself off the wall, your dark sweater coddling your frame. Autumn was seeping in, once vibrant green trees falling into hues amber and gold. This was your favourite season, the slow quiet onset of winter warming your heart. But that feeling is absent now, your face sent in a scowl as you trudge towards the nearest convenience store, eyes focused on the bright white luminescence of it not bothering to check if Jeongguk is following you.

You can’t see it but he’s staring at the back of your head strangely, lips twisting down with concern.

When he grabs your arm, easily linking it with his, you nearly shrug him off.

“Hey,” Jeongguk tries, tone ginger. “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to be late, but today was he–”

“You could have texted.”

“I–I I know, I just for–”

“It’s fine, Jeongguk,” you snap, finally giving into the urge to shove him away. “It’s fine. You just keep doing this and I hate it.”

You steady walk forward is interrupted by him yanking you back, twisting you around to face him.

“Doing what? Is it my fault that I’m busy all the time?”

“No,” you spit. “I understand that. But you keep thinking I’m just gonna be around waiting for you forever, Jeongguk and that’s not fair!”

The sigh that drifts from his lips irks you. Like you’re the inconvenience to him when all you’ve done is rearrange your world to fit him at the centre.

“God what is your issue? I’m late a couple times and suddenly I’m the villain?” His eyes are hard, jaw set like this has been stuck in his throat for a while and the words are ecstatic to be let out.

“Literally fuck off,” it’s there already, the edge you’ve been slipping on since this all started. At first it was a quiet worry, mulling at the back of your head, but lately, ever since Chayoung opened her big fat mouth it’s grown louder. Insistent to be heard, demanding to break this gentle thing in your hands. “You’re being a dickhead right now.”

“Me?” Jeongguk huffs. “You’re the one complaining about something useless.”

“Useless? My time is useless to you?”

You see it flash in the honey of his eyes, quick enough that you might have missed it had you blinked. “What the hell is this about?” Jeongguk whispers. He’s reaching out for you, hands looking for an anchor. “Why are you so cryptic all the time? Why can’t you just tell me what the problem is?”

Maybe he’s right, because you’re not being honest here. But admitting it to him means admitting it to yourself and you’re too afraid to do that. Too afraid to lose the most precious thing to you, to your heart.

“Cryptic? If you even fucking listened to me for one sec–”

“I do!” Jeongguk returns, eyes narrow. “You just say things and never mean them.”

That gets you, heart stopping dead in your chest. You suddenly wish you could take it all back; the kiss on the rooftop of his apartment, the nights you spent in his bed learning the taste of him, the murmurs of love you’d left on his skin. Because did they mean anything? Did you even truly love him?

That question burns in your head, splits your heart right open, bleeding through the cracks of your ribs.

“You should go home,” you finally murmur. Jeongguk blanches, doe eyes wide.

“What–what? Y/N what the hell are you talking about?”

“Go home,” you repeat, twisting your head away. You can’t look at him cause if you do you’ll cry and you don’t want Jeongguk to see you like that. He grabs your shoulder, you rip his hand away. “Go home, Jeongguk! I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

For second there’s a moment of silence, you take it and start walking forward, up the to convenience store. A whisper in your head tells you he’ll follow, force you to talk to him, share the secrets mauling your heart. But then you hear the scrap of his sneakers against the pavement, fading away instead of drawing close. You walk until you’re at the top of the hill, frame illuminated by the stores bright lights. You look back then, hoping he’s still there. Your gaze finds an empty road instead, copper leaves skipping through the breeze. He’s gone, left you alone to drown in this, like the louder voice in your head knew he would.

#au: jock!jaykay #jungkook x reader #jungkok angst #well....#not all sunshine and rainbows for this couple unfortunately #hope i got ocs sudden realisation of... do i love him or is he just familiar to me right #bts x reader #bts angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario

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blzzrdstryr · 3 years

Text

Chrysalis

Yandere!Albedo x gn!reader

Wordcount:2115

CW:Yandere themes

Working for Albedo isn’t that bad - the payment is good, the knowledge he provides is even better - a chance to delve into exclusive alchemical research with a widely acknowledged genius is a far more valuable award than any amount of mora or jewels could ever be. Said prodigy isn’t an awful person to work with either - he’s polite and well mannered, careful not to offend anyone even if his words can be cold and cutting sometimes. Most of the time Albedo is a pleasant company to be around, if one would turn a blind eye to his quirks.

For instance, he has a weird and frankly unnerving habit of staring at you - his teal eyes track your littlest movements as you set up an alchemical apparatus and prepare needed solutions. At first you thought he was overseeing you, checking if you had made any mistake as a fledgling alchemist, yet this hypothesis was quickly disproved when you caught him gazing off working hours. You never voiced your complaints - you wanted to keep your job and study, and maybe he is too socially blind to see how his behavior could be received by others.

Today would also be a great example of an alchemist's lack of tact - he requested you accompany him everywhere for the last few weeks, taking you from the cold heights of Dragonspine to sunny and bustling streets of Mondstadt. You two are sitting in the corner of his laboratory designed for rest and food and share a meal: two portions of his favorite fish, despite being nothing more than the employer and employee or teacher and student.

Albedo doesn’t seem to get or mind what kind of rumours he causes with this seemingly blatant favouritism before you, no he looks as calm as usual as he plunges into the dish with fork and knife.

“[First]”, he says, after the first bite: “Have the aches stopped bothering you?”, a hint of concern and something else. Two or three weeks ago you developed a strange soreness in the different parts of your body - wrists, neck, heart, legs - it would appear suddenly, burning and throbbing and making you gasp, leaving you tired and nauseous afterwards. No one could find the source of the problem, not even Albedo, yet after some time these far from pleasant sensations got subdued, easier to bear and endure.

His hand reaches for your left wrist, thumb caressing the skin, and he pulls it closer to his face, eyes examining the sore spot. You don’t protest, stunned by his sudden action.

“Hm, that’s”, he mumbles, more to himself than you: “that’s good”, he concludes, letting go of your limb.

“What’s good? Did something change?” you inquire, instantly forgetting to take offense at his grabbing.

“You could say that”, Albedo ambiguously says and returns to his fish. You ask the alchemist what he meant, but all you get are even vaguer answers and long silence in the end, as he finishes his meal and nudges you to start your own sunshine sprat.

In the end your questions remain unacknowledged, as Albedo leaves displaying you to accompany him. Surprisingly he heads for the gardens instead of the library, his step light and fast. “Master Albedo” you start, seeing that alchemist is in his creative mood again: “shouldn’t you bring an easel or sketchbook with you?”

“No, [First], I don’t intend to draw, not now. This walk is for me to get some inspiration”, Albedo quickly replies, still walking ahead: “In this time of year the environment changes so rapidly, it provides a mind with a lot of good ideas. You should come with me too, alchemy is a science of change, creation and destruction and nature is better at these three aspects than any of us”. He adds, seemingly sensing the next question you would ask.

He walks near the bushes, teal eyes focused on the blooming fragrant flowers, before he squats, pushing some of the wigs back.

“[First]”, he turns his head in your direction: “you should come and see”. You comply, curious what has caught Albedo’s attention, squatting near him and looking at one of the inner branches usually hidden by others.

It’s an ordinary dark cocoon. You almost turn your head again, before the slightest of movements catches your attention - it’s an insect trying to break out. Chrysalis cracks and deforms as a fledgling butterfly makes way past it’s confines. One second and it stretches its wings, revealing a vibrant blue coloration, the next it leaves it’s former cell entirely, elegantly soaring into the air, it’s azure wings lazily flapping, as it makes its way to the other bush.

“Fascinating”, Albedo breathes out, eyes still on the disappearing figure of the insect: “It transformed to such a great extent”.

You hear a hint of excitement in his voice - he wants to share his thoughts or knowledge then - and nod, prompting him to continue.

“Did you know that a larva needs to literally dissolve itself to reach the next stage of its life? After caterpillar finishes its cocoon, it produces enzymes that turn most of its tissue into a liquid matter and only after that does it rebuilds into an entirely new form”, he turns his gaze back to you, usually cold and thoughtful eyes now warm and dreamy: “Sometimes, I think humans are meant to metamorphose too”.

“How so?” you ask, tilting the head.

“Humans, despite all complexity and intelligence, are still fragile creatures. They’re prone to sickness and ailments and in the end old age ends those who managed to evade death before. Wouldn't it be better if one could go through metamorphosis, be reborn free from pain and hunger and constant threat of passing away? Those humans could live on forever and dedicate themselves to the higher cause without having to worry about dying and suffering".

You raise eyebrows, surprised by the sudden “outburst” - Albedo, despite his partially philosophical nature, has never shared his inner thoughts so freely, not to you at least. He, either out of embarrassment or deep contemplation, shifts his eyes somewhere behind you, and you turn back, following his eyes. He looks at the statue of Barbatos.

Tall and proud, it looks magnificent in the day’s sunlight, golden rays making it glow and shine with the fairness of the marble. Looking at this epitome of unchanging vision, you suddenly get an answer to Albedo’s thoughts and you voice it out the same second:

“Wouldn’t it negate the meaning of life then? Nature breeds diversity - the reason why we have so many flowers is because some kinds aren't adapted to particular conditions and so they change, producing entirely new types of plants. Eternal and undying beings, unconcerned with the earthly matters would have no need to reproduce and pass on its features to the next generation, depriving the world of thousand possible combinations. No new life would be created if the old one could be perfectly sustained".

"That's how you see it", Albedo replies, placing a now empty husk of the cocoon inside your palm - the testament of the nature’s miracle, the testament of one's ability to change: “I’ve witnessed many wonderful sights for today”, he adds, still looking at you, surrounded by flowers and flying butterflies, light breeze playing with your hair and sun illuminating your whole figure with a gentle golden glow.

You part with Albedo shortly after - he closes himself in the lab, before checking up on your sore spots again, quietly mumbling something to himself the whole time. You head for your house and open the alchemical textbook, studying it until late night. That place on the wrist slightly throbs at every movement.

Only when your eyelids fill up with lead and thoughts slow down from the general fatigue you allow yourself to head for the bed, falling asleep the second your head touches the pillow. You see phantasmagorical dreams - of you being a bulging and large larva, spending days simply eating green leaves, until a strange urge overcomes your entire being and you start to build something - a cocoon. Now, surrounded by pitch black darkness you feel a burning sensation - enzymes, enzymes that will dissolve your tissue. Pain quickly escalates and you want to scream and cry, but you can’t - you’re an insect you don’t have vocal glands or tear ducts to do so. Who could have known that butterflies suffer so much?

You writhe and squirm, caged by your liquifying body and hard chrysalis around you and you are in so much agony you want to die.

And then you wake up. All sweaty and distressed you grab at your wrist - it hurts so much, your entire body is on fire, it seems that you have another episode of that strange soreness. You quickly rise to your feet, snatching the painkillers from the nightstand and downing them with a gulp of water. As medicine begins it’s work you lay in the bed again, ready to fall asleep and forget the midnight pains, as you see something that makes your breath hitch and heartbeat fasten from fear.

A strange greyish white discoloration on your wrist in the same place that used to throb this evening. You touch it and it leaves a dry white imprint on your fingers, it also doesn’t have any strange smell.

You rise and quickly dress up, barely suppressed panic and anxiety dispelling the last remains of sleep. The walk towards the Favonius HQ’s is short, especially when you break into a sprint on the way. He is here, he is working into the night today. Quickly passing sleepy knights you climb on the second floor and almost run to one particular door, loudly knocking at it.

Just as you expected, there’s a sound of footsteps and soon a familiar voice asks: “Who is here?”.

“It’s me, master Albedo”, you say, feeling how the pain returns despite the painkillers taken: “you said to report if something changes, with my aches. It changed”.

The words you say and desperation accompanying them prompts alchemist to open the door, as he gestures you to come in, and shut the door as you do so:

“Strip”, he says, mind back to the analytical mode, you comply, feeling ashamed with every second Albedo continues to observe you: “Wait, there’s something on your neck”.

A cool touch to your skin, a short yelp, another burst of pain. You fall on your knees, blinded and deafened by sheer agony. Alchemist produces a distressed noise, walking up to your collapsed figure and carrying you to the nearby table.

He pushes alchemical apparatus away, turning the table into a makeshift bed, and gently lowers you down. “[First]”, his hand card through your hair, while the other nudges a mug with some brew to your lips: “There’s nothing to worry about, your metamorphosis progresses as it should be”.

“Metamorphosis.. What are you talking about?”, you ask, panic creeping into the question. Alchemist looks you straight into the eyes, an eerie smile blooming on his face as he hears it: "Isn’t it obvious? You're going to change and I will help you with that".

“Change?! Change into what?”

“Into a better version of human of course. Do you think I would let you get old or sick and die? You’re too dear to me to do that, you should live and experience a life free from human limitations”, for the first time in your life you’re terrified of him. Albedo always seemed so knowledgeable and calm to you, like a wise wizard from the childhood fairytales, yet now he looks mad and devoid of any humanity:“You shouldn’t worry about these stains, they will disappear once your transformation is complete. Those are just chalk you see, a side effect of your tissues changing over the weeks”.

“When did.. When did you start it?”, you croak out, sensing the agony returning and growing again. It hurts so much I can barely think.

“Dragonspine. You were eating with me”.

You want to insult and accuse him, yet another wave of pain renders you speechless, short huffs and whimpers escaping you as tears start to stream down your face.

“I understand it can be very stressful to you, given how change of this scale is always carrying a great risk”, his voice adopts the same philosophical tone: “The purpose of cocoon is protection of the soon-to-be butterfly from the external harm and influence that could lead to other complications and we don’t want any of that”.

He cards his hand through your hair again, a mockery of a concern dyeing his next words: “You shouldn’t worry, I will be a good chrysalis to your metamorphosis”.

You black out from pain.

#yandere albedo x reader #Yandere Albedo #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #Yandere genshin #Yandere genshin impact x reader #Male yandere #Yandere x reader #Yandere #male yandere #my writing

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sevendeadlymorons · 3 years

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hello! can i request for the brother and undateables (if you don’t want simeon is just okay) headcanons for seeing mc sketches book and mc drew some positions with them? thank you! (sorry if i bothered you and my english is not will)

Sorry for the delay in writing your request, i really like this idea and I will get right on it for you :)

You absolutely did not bother me whatsoever and your English was great btw x

Brothers + Undateables Reaction to Seeing MC’s Sketchbook

——————————————————

Lucifer

Saw it lying on your desk when he came in to clean your room

He was never one to pry but he eventually found himself flicking through the pages of the book

Each page was filled with sketches of flowers or scenery or the cats that wander outside the house

He was so intrigued by these intricate drawings of yours, finding himself rather impressed by the skill you had

Around about the end, he notices sketches of his brothers, each in particular poses, drawn in such beautiful detail

He smiles to himself as he continues to flick through multiple pages of Asmo, not really surprised that he’s the main model of your drawings

That’s when he came across one of him

It was him sitting down in his study, enjoying the sound of one of his records. He didn’t even know you drew him.

It looked so real, like it was a photo. The way the shading was so perfect and how you drew his small smile so delicately. Incredible.

He was so taken back, he had to see more

Walks past you in the corridor with your sketchbook behind his back

I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if he borrowed it for a little while

Mammon

Bust into your room to tell you about this massive loss he had gambling again but you weren’t there

He looked around but all he could find was a singular book lay open on your bed

One peek couldn’t hurt, he thought, already flicking through the contents of the book

His eyes widen as he saw more and more of your art, each drawing so filled with detail

Since when was his human so talented, and when were they planning on telling him?

He kept flicking through until he saw his brothers in several different poses

He felt kind of hurt that you’d never asked him to model for you before

Each page that went by, the more impressed he was

This has gotta be worth a lot with how incredible these drawings are

Suddenly, he reached one of him. He was surprised since you’ve never asked him to model for you so when did you draw this?

It was him smiling while counting his money in his room. He didn’t want to know how you got this to be honest

But he was amazed by the detail put in. The amount of time you must have put into this makes his cheeks blush like crazy at the thought of you drawing something so time consuming for him

He ran out, notebook to chest, flicking through the pages with a goofy smile on his face in his room

Leviathan

Didn’t mean to snoop, just casually found it open on your desk so how could he resist...

His jaw dropped as he flicked through, admiring the never ending sketches of scenery or animals

Literally woooaaahhh’s in his head after looking at each drawing

Gets to his brothers drawings and he’s amazed

You can draw realistic too??!

His mind is running wild at the thought of you drawing all his favourite anime characters

Wonders if there’s any of him but he can’t remember you asking him to pose for any so he gets sorta upset

Who’d want to draw a yucky otaku like him anyway

Continues to flick through, still trying to get over how good the one before was until he sees the one on the next page and he’s starting all over again

In complete awe at how incredible they all were, each detail perfect and the facial features were sharp and precise every single time

Onto the next page and he felt his heart beat out of his chest. No way, could it be...

It was a drawing of him, focused on his game with this concentrated look on his face. When did you even draw that?! He feels his entire face burning up as he stares at himself. You drew him so well...

Clutches the book to his chest, very very close to tears, and runs off to find you to ask you to draw him and Ruri-Chan

Satan

Walks past and sees you drawing in this little book so peeps over your shoulder to see what you were doing

He’s overcome with surprise as he stares at your beautiful drawing of the flower that was sitting on the table in front of you

He crosses his arms on top of your head and laughs as you jump out of your seat, holding the notebook tightly to your chest

He apologise for snooping but tells you how incredible he thinks your art is, watching your face closely as it turns red

He asks if he can see more as your current drawing had intrigued him, and held out his hand to you

You hesitate but happily hand it over, sitting back down and patting the seat next to you

You watch as he flicks through, his eyebrows raising every few times, then looking over and flashing you a smile

Why didn’t he know about this? These drawings were incredible

He especially liked the drawings of the stray cats outside, as his face lit up, pointing and telling you the names of the ones you drew

When he got to his brothers, he couldn’t help but be massively impressive at the intricate detail you put into them as well as the unique poses you put them in to

He doesn’t remember you asking him to pose for anything but he continues to flick through, hopeful

As he flick the page, he comes face to face with a drawing of him. His eyes widen as he scans over the drawing of him holding a book between his fingers as his face looking tranquil and calm.

He looks over at you who had a nervous face, obviously trying to figure out if he liked it or not, to which he smiles widely and tells you he’ll be borrowing it as he’d really like to see more

Asmodeus

You left a book in his room after he’d finished paining your nails

He went to go return it to you when he felt the sudden urge to take a peek inside before hand

Maybe it’s something erotic, he thinks, as he begins to open the book on his bed

When he first sees your drawings, it’s so much better than anything erotic he’s ever seen

His lips twist into a sweet smile as he flicks through the book, his hand resting on his chin, making small humming noises every few seconds

He never knew you were an artist!

The drawings of his brothers were beautiful and he felt sorta jealous that he hasn’t seen a single one of him yet

He desperately turned page after page, searching for drawings of him

At the final page, he finally saw himself. He was speechless as he stares at the incredibly drawn masterpiece of him.

It was of him sitting sweetly on the couch, looking at his freshly paint nails with delight, the drawing perfectly capturing the mood of the moment

He squeals as he hugs the book to his chest as if it was his prized possession

He goes running after you to ask if he could model for more of your art as it was love at first sight

Beelzebub

On his daily snoop around in your room for snacks when he saw a small notebook on your desk

He didn’t want to invade your privacy but he was just too tempted, one peek wouldn’t hurt

He opened it and was greeted by your incredible art. He stopped eating and stared at it, completely in shock at how good they were

He kept flicking through all your little quick draws. Flowers, animals and food. He especially liked those ones

When he came across his brothers, all in these complex poses, he smiled wide and began flicking through to find him, quite excited to see what you drew for him

He went past Belphie’s and a sweet smile spread across his face as he imagined you trying to keep him awake so you could draw him

He kept flipping through but there was still no sign of him. He felt sorta left out at that thought but kept on going through hopefully

Finally, on the very last page, was a drawing of him. It wasn’t like any of his brothers tho, it was him completely in his zone

He had a burger in his hand and was going in to bite down on it, a grin plastered on his lips as the perfect detail showed joy in his eyes

He stares on, wide eyed. This was amazing. He wanted to keep it and store it somewhere so he could look at it forever

Picks up the book to go find you, wandering around like an excited puppy

He was going to give you the biggest hug you’ve ever experienced

Belphegor

Was asleep on the sofa opposite you when the sound of a pencil sketching on a piece of paper woke him up, so he opens his eyes and begins to sit up, rubbing his eyes and looking towards where the sound was coming from

Immediately sees you drawing away into a book, to which he raises his eyebrow and walks behinds you to take a peek

You didn’t seem to notice him getting up as you were completely focused on your sketch so he looks over your shoulder to see a sketch of... him.

Were you just drawing him sleeping?

Thought it was sorta cute actually

He admired how you delicately put in extra minor details that made the drawing look so realistic to him

He couldn’t take his eyes off it, your drawing was incredible

And you drew him lookin good too

You felt something tickle your neck so you turned around quickly to see Belphie peering over your shoulder, staring straight at your art, a big smile plastered on his smug face

Your face burns up in embarrassment as you realise he saw you drawing him sleeping but he just responds with a small laugh and a pat on the head as he jumps over the couch to sit next to you, offering out his hand in a way of saying “let me see”

He flicks through all your nature sketches and the ones of him and Beel, not really bothering about his other brothers, a persistent smile on his lips and a hand glued to your thigh

He was impressed, but surprised he never knew. He really wanted to take it so he could look at it more

So he did just that. Stood up, sketchbook in hand, straight towards the attic to binge through every single drawing in there

Diavolo

You came over to him and asked him to hold your book while you went to go do something, to which he agreed and carried on with his work

He kept eying it on the desk next to him. He’s never been one to snoop, but he couldn’t help but look at it

He flicked through the pages, each one filled to the brim with sketches, doodles and beautiful portraits

He couldn’t believe his eyes, you drew these?

The artwork was captivating, so stunning and detailed with each one he flipped through

He chose well when he picked you to be his exchange student, so talented

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of you putting the brothers into these poses and making them sit still for hours while you drew them

He found that a smile appeared on his face as he looked at all the antics the brothers get into which you skilfully drew to savour the moment

That’s when he found himself. Sat graciously on his throne with a huge grin on his face. The detail so incredible it looked almost real. His jaw dropping slightly at the mere sight of it

When was this drawn?

But he didn’t care, he was smiling giddily at it. Honoured you’d spend your personal time drawing him

He knows who his next royal artist is going to be

Barbatos

Diavolo had a little party organised for you and the brothers and when he saw you enter with a book lodged under your arm, he was rather intrigued

Watches as you walk out mid way through the event to an empty room, book still in hand, and so he decides to follow you in case you wanted company

Walks in to see you, pencil in hand, scribbling away at the book

He sits next to you and you jump, startled at his sudden presence

He asks what it is you’re doing and stares down at your open book, watching his eyebrows raise in surprise at your art work

Your face flushes pink as he offers out his hand, asking to see more. You nod and hand it over to him, watching him flick through the pages

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Your art was excellent and so detailed. Even the small sketches were near perfection

He looks over at you and flashes you a small genuine smile of delight

When he sees the drawings of the brothers, he chuckles and compliments you on how well drawn they are

When he turned the next page, he didn’t expect to see himself though

He was sat cross legged with a cup of tea in his fingers, his face visibly delighted

He clears his throat in surprise, hiding the obvious grin on his lips, and hands it back to you, giving you a small pat on the shoulder as he exits the room

He was amazed. He’ll be mentioning this to Diavolo for sure

Simeon

You honestly come to the angel whenever you need peace from the brothers, so he’s seen you sketching away in that little pad of yours several times, but never actually seen what’s inside of it

One day, you got up to go get something and asked him to look after the book for you, to which he nodded and held the book in his lap

Now... Simeon never snoops, but looking down at your sketchbook, curiosity took over him

He opened it and lay it on his lap, staring down at the multiple little drawings you had scattered on one page

He smiles and turns to the next page, once again greeted by more of your amazing drawings of cats, birds, trees, followers and the House of Lamentation

He keeps turning the page, drawing after drawing, each one seemingly getting better than the last

When he saw the little drawing of Luke he couldn’t help but chuckle at how sweet he looked. He’d have to ask you if he could keep it later

Then he saw the brothers and he admired how well you drew them all, each detail drawn to perfection. He most enjoyed their demon forms and how beautiful they all looked

As soon as he flicked to a drawing of him, he stopped in his tracks, staring down at your sketch in disbelief

He didn’t care too much about when you drew it, all he cared about was how astonishing you made him look

He was stood with his hand on his hip, a small smile displayed on his face as his cloak carefully draped around his arms

He put the book back before you re-entered the room. He’ll ask you if he could take another look later

Solomon

Couldn’t help but notice you sketching something in class, since you share a lot of them together and it happens almost every lesson

He doesn’t really care at first but when he finds it laying on the table after you’d forgotten it, he couldn’t help but look

First couple of pages were filled with small sketches and he was pretty impressed. He does a bit of doodling and draws his summoning circles himself so looking at your art was pretty intriguing to him

When he sees the drawing of the brothers, he realises you’ve actually got a hell of a talent for drawing

He decides to go find you and return it, but he’ll keep flicking through as he walks, because he’d really like to see more

As he’s walking and flicking through, a smile begins to form on his face as he sees sketches of Luke and Simeon having a tea party together, something he knew went on weekly with the 3 of you

He stops walking as he stumbles across something he never expected to see

It was him, practising his spells with a focused look on his face

He has absolutely no clue when you drew you and honestly, slightly creeped out

Ignores it though since the drawing of him came out pretty good and the details you put on his face were incredibly done. He felt himself blush slightly at the fact you actually took the time to draw him

Eventually found you and yelled out your name, waving the sketchbook in his hand as he watched you rush over, your cheeks burning red as you cover your face. He smiles sweetly as he walks off

This guy couldn’t get any more sketchy even if he tried

Luke

Simeon needed to talk to Lucifer, so he brought Luke along since he was bored. He started wandered the house when those two began talking about things he didn’t understand.

He reaches your room and knocks on the door, but there was no answer, so he let himself in

Kid can’t keep his hands to himself, he’s touchin everything he sees. So when he sees a book on your desk, he can’t help himself

Sits on your bed and opens it, his eyes widening as he’s greeted by several incredible sketches

He’s having the time of his life flicking through them all, going through flower after flower, the stray cats he sees outside the house and of course, the demons

He thought all the drawings were the coolest things he’s ever seen in his life

He had to show Simeon

He was about to go running to show him when one of them caught his eye. It was a drawing of him?

He was stood on a stool baking his cakes. The intricate details standing out, making him gawk in awe. He didn’t know when you drew this, but he didn’t care. You made him look amazing

The drawing of him made his eyes tear up, he was so so happy that you drew him

Wiped his eyes and clung to the book, running into the room where Simeon was so he could show him your beautiful drawings too

This was so damn fun to write, but fuck did it take days to do :,)

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me leviathan #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me belphie #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #obey me dateables

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startanewdream · 3 years

Note

Hiya, Mah! Please, if you feel like it, could you write something with: "9. “I’m too sober for this.” “You don’t even drink.” “Maybe I should start.”? For whichever ship you want to :)

Hi! 💓

For you I wrote a missing moment with my all-time favourite Sixth Year Pining Harry. Hope you enjoy this moment and thank you so much for joining this silly game :)

__________

Harry registers the heavy scent of flowers even before he notices it’s Ginny who sat next to him on the couch. He flinches, not wanting her to be so near him, though it’s all for the wrong reasons.

It’s really hard to pretend he isn’t crazy about her when she is so close, wonderful perfume in the air, so near that he wonders how it would be to turn towards her and see her eyes sparkling with a surprise for a second as he would lean even closer, and then Harry would close his eyes and…

She has a boyfriend, stop it. She is not interested.

That thought never makes his dreams go away, though.

‘Ugh,’ Ginny complains, pressing her temples and Harry almost offers to replace her hands. He could massage her, that would be a friendly thing, right? Not really, he admits. ‘I’m too sober for this.’

She frees one hand to indicate everything around her. Fred and George are sitting together at another couch, face troubled after being reprimanded by their father; Mrs Weasley is crying in the kitchen, her husband holding her; Bill and Fleur are close by the Christmas tree, and Harry thinks Fleur is being very accomplished in easing Bill’s worries, so he turns his eyes away quickly.

Harry isn’t sure what’s upsetting Ginny more, but he knows he is the reason Christmas spirit is so low.

‘You don’t even drink,’ he notices grimly.

‘Maybe I should start.’ She opens one eye. ‘Do you think Mum would notice if I went to the liquor cabinet?’

‘Do you have one?’

‘No, probably not. Or else Fred and George would have discovered it already.’

‘They are of age. I’m sure they can provide you with some firewhiskey.’

‘Harry, Harry.’ Now she opens both eyes, looking more relaxed as she watches him with something close to amusement. ‘Shouldn’t you be talking me out of my underage drinking?’

He can’t help his smile. ‘I know that the easiest way to convince you to do anything is to forbid you.’

Ginny laughs. It’s not her brightest laugh, not with the mood still sober in the house—the Minister’s visit weighted them all—, but it’s nice all the same and it warms Harry more than the eggnog he drank.

‘You know me too well, Harry.’

He looks away carefully now. He noticed her, all right, but he doesn’t want her to see how much. It’s certainly more than reasonable for friends.

‘Better than most,’ she adds, somewhat heavier now, and Harry watches her again. Ginny is looking at the lights of the Christmas tree thoughtfully, seeming to even ignore her brother snogging her fiance next to it.

‘Got a problem?’

She blinks, snapping out of something. ‘Problem? No, I—’ she shakes her head. ‘Never mind, today was just a mess.’

‘I know. I’m really sorry.’

Ginny frowns. ‘Sorry for what?’

Harry sighs, glancing guiltily in the direction of the kitchen. ‘Well, Percy and the Minister—’

‘No one forced Percy to be a git, Harry,’ she says, somewhat more like herself suddenly. ‘He came here as the Minister’s lapdog because he wanted to.’

‘If it weren’t for me, he would still—’

‘Still be blissfully ignorant that You-Know-Who returned?’ she asks forcefully. ‘Find another stupid reason to betray his family?’

‘Yes,’ he agrees, sad. ‘But it wouldn’t be me.’

She shakes her head. ‘Stop it. Really. It’s his choices, and you’re not responsible for them.’

Harry doesn’t answer, stealing another glance to the kitchen. He can hear a sniffle coming from there.

‘No one blames you, Harry, especially not Mum.’

He looks back at her, almost smiling. ‘Sometimes it's like you are reading my mind.'

And then he wonders if it wouldn't just be easy if that was the case; if Ginny could just see how he feels about her, how she is so bright and how much... How much she visits his dreams.

Maybe it's good she can't read him that well.

'I know you too,' she answers calmly. 'If you are not blaming yourself for something, you call it a bad day.'

'I can not blame myself… some days.'

She raises her fist, holding an imaginary cup.

'To only blaming yourself for things that are under your control,' Ginny declares, and Harry toasts playfully with her.

Ginny blinks, taking a deep breath, then she picks up a book that was standing on the coffee table in front of them, flipping through it. Harry notices all pages are blank.

'It's a sketchbook,' she says, knowing he is looking. 'Dean gave me for Christmas.'

'Oh.' A weight drops in his stomach, unpleasant. 'Nice.'

'Yeah, I told him I wished I could draw like him and he thought I could begin…'

She looks a little troubled at the book and Harry suddenly knows what's on her mind.

'It's just a sketchbook. Nothing else.'

'I… I know.' Ginny sighs. 'Blame ourselves only for what we can control, right?'

'Right.' He smiles. As jealous as he feels about Dean giving her a Christmas gift, he decides that making her feel better is more important. 'What are you going to draw?'

Ginny grins as if unable to resist his joyfulness. 'Oh, I don't know. Nothing probably. When I said I wished I could draw like him it was more wishful thinking, not that I really wanted to do it. I am no artist.'

Harry indicates the room, so bright with the paper decoration she had spent hours doing. 'I don't know, decoration is stylish here.'

'Thanks,' she laughs, not really taking him seriously. 'Well, I can't draw still. I have no patience for it.'

'Then let's not draw.' He looks around until he finds a quill and ink. 'Doodle. Write a short story.'

'I could write a poem,' she says, just a really teasing, a blush coming to her cheeks.

Heat creeps upon his neck too.

'You are good with rhymes,' he whispers.

There is a moment of silence, and Harry feels Ginny's eyes over him as if she is trying to assess if he is messing with her or, somehow, really complimenting her for her valentine's card from years ago.

Again, he almost wishes she could read her mind.

Then she lets out a sigh, placing the quill over the first page of the sketchbook and drawing a grid. She draws a cross at the middle of it, watching the ink dry before offering him the quill.

'Your turn.'

Their hands brush when he goes to pick the quill and for a moment, three very short and very long seconds, their eyes meet. Maybe she can read his mind after all, because her eyes are sparkling, a blazing look on them, and she has to know how he feels about her because he is sure he is matching her gaze. The same longing, the same emotions, the same urge to just lean in and…

They blink at the same time. Harry draws the nought anywhere, not really paying attention, but Ginny ends up allowing a draw.

At the end of the game, she looks at their art, that silly game of noughts and crosses that is the only thing in the sketchbook, a satisfied smile on her lips as if that's the kind of thing she wants to fill those pages with.

Harry wonders if she wants to fill pages with him too.

'Another match?'

Harry can't refuse her.

__________

Please join me in this birthday special (asking for a prompt! Let me see your work too! 😍)

#hinny #harry and ginny #missing moment #harry feels really romantic when he is pining #pining harry #i wrote like that because i cant draw either #t: fanfiction #birthday prompts

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ahtsumu · 3 years

Text

the mystery of love ; kuroo tetsurou

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

synopsis: kuroo tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. he believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. but that doesn’t mean he can’t believe in love.

tag(s): sweet summer lovin’, friends to lovers, inspired by call my by your name, university student!kuroo tetsurou, lab intern!kuroo tetsurou, so much pining lol, fluff, angst, slow burn ; warning(s): profanity, mentions of alcohol ingestion (it’s legal bc they’re in italy!), suggestive themes ; wc: 4.8k

a/n: happy birthday tetsu!! i hope you guys like this. i really enjoyed writing it ♡

Kuroo Tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. He believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. At least, that’s what he tells you. Sometimes you treat this information as a source of hope; other times, you’re not sure what to make of it.

This, you realise with his shoulder pressed against yours and both your bodies sprawled across his wrinkled bed sheets, is one of those other times. You turn your face to look at his.

“What?” he asks, one side of his mouth curling up in a smile.

For a moment, you wonder what would happen if you just said it. You could blame the alcohol. Get away with it scot-free. While you mull the option over in the dead silence of his room, your brain suddenly registers the music still playing from the living room. The low bass reverberating through the walls. How close your lips are. The sound of his breaths.

“Earth to Y/N?”

And like that, the little what-if that rose in your mind falls back with its tail between its legs. You bite your lip, look around his room like the walls have a script printed on them. Unfortunately, they do not.

“I was just thinking about my shirt.” It’s not great, but it’s the best you can do while still feeling the vodka and orange juice burn in your stomach. And smelling it on yourself.

Kuroo’s laugh booms through the room and you can’t help but giggle along with him. “I said I was sorry!” he says, hazel eyes twinkling with mirth. He pauses and glances at his closet, then nods his head in its direction. “Take a hoodie. Your pick.”

A smile–– one you try to downplay but fail miserably to–– creeps up your face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo replies. “You can also shower here if you want. It's the least I can do after spilling my drink all over you.”

When you emerge from Kuroo’s bathroom in one of his thinner hoodies, a lot soberer and drying your hair, he’s not on the bed anymore. Quietly, you step out of his room and look for him through the house. People are crashed everywhere–– on the sofa, over the kitchen counter, even propped up against walls. The floor is covered with plastic cups and mysterious pools of liquid. Wrinkling your nose, you try your best to step around the messes, looking in every corner in the house for the raven-haired boy.

You find him back in his room, actually. He’s back on his bed scrolling through his phone, the light illuminating his sharp features. When he hears you close the door behind you, he looks up, eyes immediately zeroing in on the black hoodie over your torso. The corner of his mouth twitches up.

“Where’d you go?” you both ask at the same time. He chuckles; you grin. Crawling back onto the bed, you tell him to go first.

“I went around to make sure nothing’s broken,” he explains. “Perks of being the only sober intern in the house, I guess.”

A beat passes.

This house is rented. You forgot about that. All his expenses are paid for by your mother’s lab. You forgot about that. He fits in your world so well, like maybe he’s always had a spot there, that you forgot that Kuroo Tetsurou is only here for the summer.

“Right.”

Kuroo raises a brow. “And you?”

“I went to look for you.”

He smiles and holds his hands out like a magician at the end of a trick. “Well, you found me.”

“Yeah,” you muse. “I guess I did.” Aren’t you lucky.

With that, something shifts in the air. A contemplative expression crosses Kuroo’s face. Maybe he’s realised how his words come out sometimes. Kuroo often says things that sound like they have more than one meaning and it used to throw you off, but now you just go with it. You’ve even picked up that habit yourself. “Do you ever wish that you’d met someone earlier? Maybe under different circumstances?” he asks.

Sighing, you fall back against his mattress and stare up at the ceiling. Telling the truth feels easier when you can’t see him. “Yeah. All the time.” A few seconds pass. “Do you think we would’ve been friends if we went to the same college?”

He also lies down. You’re both back in the same positions you were in an hour ago, but something’s changed. “No,” he admits. You’re not surprised–– that’s what you’d expected. “I’d be a junior and you’d be a freshman. We probably would’ve never met. And even if we had, I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out with a… freshie.” He chuckles softly at the end. “And look at me now,” he adds softly, more to himself than you. You look over at his face. A contemplative smile rests on his lips.

That urge to just say it returns.

“Kuroo, I think––”

“You’re my favourite p–– oh, my bad. You first.”

And it goes away again.

“Um, uh,” you stutter, “how long do you have left here?”

Kuroo raises his brows. “On this planet? Hopefully a while, Y/N.” He sees your unamused expression and drops the front. “Three more weeks.”

Your eyes widen. Eight weeks have already passed. Blood rushes to your ears. Eight entire weeks have already passed, meaning that in three weeks, Kuroo Tetsurou will leave forever. And in four, you will, too. Except you’ll come back. You’ve done so every summer since you were born, probably will do until you die.

But this place will never be the same as it used to. Not after him.

“Y/N?” Once everything comes back into focus, you see the concern riddling his features. “Everything okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah.”

Say it.

“You didn’t have too much to drink, right?”

Say it.

“I just got buzzed. What about you?”

“The only drink I was planning on having all went to your shirt.”

Say it.

“Kuroo.”

“Yeah?”

Not yet.

“Let’s go on an adventure.”

At two AM, everything is different. The streets feel different, the villas look different, and you–– you can’t put your finger on it but Kuroo Tetsurou has changed, too. He sits behind the wheel of your father’s white 1953 Cadillac with the convertible roof down, unruly hair blown back by the breeze, a euphoric grin stretched over his face. In the passenger’s seat, you sit with an equally large beam and your hands raised into the dark sky.

“Where to, Miss?” he shouts over the wind.

“The stars,” you shout back with a laugh. Kuroo’s cat-like eyes briefly flit over to your side profile, lips curving to form a smaller, more tender smile. But you miss that–– your gaze falls on him just a second after his return to the road.

“I heard you say Jack’s,” he says, smirking.

The 24/7 diner sticks out like a sore thumb in the row of sun-baked stucco and stone buildings with its bold neon lights and shiny exterior. During the day, it seems gaudy, way too American for a small town in northern Italy. But at night, this place feels like home. You’ve been stumbling into Jack’s completely shit-faced since you were sixteen. Of course, all those other times had been with the kids of your mother’s coworkers. All those other times, you could hardly remember what you even ordered when you woke up hours later.

But this time, you walk in with Kuroo Tetsurou at half-past-two in the morning, the chemicals running through your bloodstream epinephrine and dopamine, not ethanol; if you’re drunk then it’s on a feeling and your only poison is the boy next to you. You study his face and consider that thought. No, he’s not poison. He’s the antidote.

“Y/N!” the server exclaims, rushing over with two menus. “And Kuroo! My two favourite customers, but together this time!” Giovanni ushers you two to a booth by the window and takes your orders, purely for show, of course. He knows your orders by heart: the Lorenzo for Kuroo and the Quentin for you.

“With fries on both, please,” Kuroo adds, throwing you a wink. “Aren’t I a gentleman?”

“You only did that to have more for yourself,” you reply drily. Having him over at your house for dinner every night made picking up his idiosyncrasies so unbelievably easy. You know them like they’re your own. You know him like he’s your own.

Kuroo clutches his chest and pretends to be offended, then changes the conversation to what happened at the lab today, or rather, yesterday. That your mother and the other researchers are so close to finding a cure for the strain of virus that’s recently hit crickets in southern Italy.

“You should drop by again sometime,” he says. “Last time you came around was, what, two weeks ago?”

Your face breaks in a grin. “Are you saying you’ve missed me? Chemistry getting boring?” you tease, drawing a loud laugh from him.

“Sodium hydrogen, you little shit.” Your mother’s used this one on you before, but hearing it from him makes you giggle anyway.

Giovanni comes back with two plates, each loaded with fries. You both say your thanks and he retreats to the kitchen again, but not before wiggling his eyebrows at your reddening faces. Wordlessly, you grab your fork and knife and transfer at least half of your fries onto Kuroo’s plate. Kuroo stares at you with the slightest smile. That look sends your stomach into flips.

“What?” you question nonchalantly, cutting into your burger.

“Nothing,” he says, mirroring your actions. “Nothing at all.”

It’s hard to imagine that after spending almost every day together for eight weeks straight that there’s still more to learn about each other, but there is. You tell him more about your real home. Your best friend who called you at 3 AM last night because of timezones. Stories from every summer before this one, when you were a different person in the same place you are now.

He tells you more about Kenma, his best friend from high school. How they played on one of the best volleyball teams in Japan. Stories from training camp, literature class, the metro ride home after school–– you listen to every single one in rapt attention. There’s not enough time in the world for all the things you want to know about Kuroo Tetsurou, so you take what you can get. If only you’d known him before you’d known him.

“If we’d met earlier here, do you think we would’ve been friends?” you ask after paging Giovanni for the check.

“No,” he replies, picking up a few remaining fries with his fork instead of his fingers. The corners of your mouth turn up. That’s your thing. He considers the scenario seriously. “I think we met right when we should have.”

“What about the future?” you press, leaning into the conversation. “Let’s say we meet in two years here, instead of now. Would we be friends?”

Kuroo sets his fork down, eyes you steadily. “What’s this about?”

You blink. “What?”

“What’s with all these hypotheticals today?” Perhaps worried that he came off too harshly, Kuroo adds, “I thought I was the scientist.”

“I just… it feels like I’ve known you since forever.” This feels like it was meant to be, you don’t say. And I want to know you forever.

A sigh–– fond, but still a sigh–– blows through his lips. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates,” he says with a wicked grin.

“Are you calling me your soulmate?” The question, shamelessly genuine, painfully hopeful, leaves your mouth without you intending it to and you regret it instantly. Because Kuroo Tetsurou has told you many times that he does not believe in soulmates.

Is it so bad to dream, though?

You watch him carefully but he doesn’t say anything, just continues smiling wryly like you’d intended to tease him. Like he knows that you know better. But you don’t.

“Are you?” he suddenly replies. Sharp eyes hold yours, daring you to respond. Do you dare?

At that moment, Giovanni returns with the check. “Who’s paying?” he asks, unaware of the tense exchange that just occurred across the table. Inaudibly, you sigh in relief. Kuroo is about to say that it’s on him when he catches himself in the middle of his sentence, looks your way, then back to Giovanni. He says you’ll go Dutch. You nod in approval.

“So,” Kuroo drawls once you’ve both paid for your meals. “Where do we go from here?”

Good question.

Kuroo Tetsurou has never been to an outdoor club period. And though he’s been clubbing, he has never once gone dancing in his lifetime. You tell him that’s about to change as he parks the car in a lot near the venue. Before him, all your summer nights were spent here.

“You’ve been here for two months and you haven’t been to an outdoor club yet?” you ask while unbuckling your seatbelt. That can’t be possible. If you’d been in his shoes… an attractive college student in a foreign country for the summer, you would have gone wild.

“Nope. I’ve been a little busy, y’know, spending my days in a lab, handling chemicals, studying viruses, washing lab equipment, writing up reports for your mother and her colleagues, working on my own research on the side… the usual.” He flashes you a bright, sarcastic smile.

“Poor baby,” you coo, ruffling his hair. Kuroo laughs while you continue messing with the dark locks. “Was your first full day here the only tourist-day you’ve had so far?” His weekends, you already know, are spent either lounging around cafés, pools, or the great outdoors with you or the interns. But you’d assumed he’d had time to do some exploring on his own.

Kuroo nods. “And my guide wasn’t even that great,” he mutters, shooting you a dark look. “She sped through every attraction and hardly spoke a word outside of the tour to me. I think she hated me.”

You giggle and open the door, letting the music from the outdoor speakers infiltrate the bubble inside your car. “Maybe she was just nervous!” you say as you get out. That’s a lie.

“About what?” Kuroo follows suit, the gravel crunching beneath his feet. “I was so friendly to you and you just brushed me off each time.” He pouts.

But you don’t reply. Instead, you just grab his hands and pull him towards the venue. As you step into the boundaries marked by fairy lights and rustic wooden fences, Kuroo stops in his tracks and tugs on your intertwined hands. You glance down before up, trying to memorise how his hand looks around yours in the few seconds you can steal.

“Y/N,” Kuroo says. The strobe lights paint his skin pink, blue, purple like it’s a canvas. “Tell me why you were nervous.” Grammatically, it’s a command. And yet it sounds like he’s begging.

“What’s it mean to you?” you ask, feeling your heartbeat speed up in your chest. So what if you just… said it? What would happen?

“Everything?” he replies with a cheeky smile. The odds that he seriously means that are slim. But… they’re there. You shake that possibility out of your mind. That’s just the hope talking.

“Depends how convincingly you say it.” You tug on his arm. “C’mon. Let’s dance.” But he doesn’t budge–– he just continues to stand by the entrance of the club with an expectant look on his face. People are starting to stare.

“Fine,” you say with an eye roll. “I’ll tell you." Kuroo smirks, something self-congratulatory ready to leave his mouth, but then you let go of his hand and dance backwards into the throng of moving bodies. “But first, you’re gonna have to dance with me!”

You allow yourself to be swallowed by the lively music, the people, the moment. Seconds later you’re deep enough into the crowd that you lose sight of Kuroo. Something in you says that he’ll show up soon, though. For now, you let yourself breathe. Forget about the heaviness of what-if’s, the itch to confess, the dread of the aftermath. Feelings are a lot like gravity. Sometimes they keep you grounded, other times, they weigh you down. This is one of those other times.

You dance up to a friendly-looking group of teens your age. Three guys and two girls. You shout your name and follow up with how it’s nice to meet them, hoping one of them finds you nice enough to keep around. Dancing alone in a club is one of the worst things that can ever happen to someone. Luckily, one of the girls–– the one wearing a purple wig–– pulls you in for a hug, drunkenly shouting back, “Bianca!” Bianca pushes you into their circle next to one of the guys and, just like that, you two start moving to the beat, feeling it in your feet, shoulders, hips. At one point, you turn around and take a good look at his face. The guy’s cute enough, but he’s not Kuroo. Still, you say nothing as he moves closer to you and grabs your hand, lifting it up and motioning for you to twirl.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grip firmly onto your waist and pull you out of the circle. “Hey!” You look down, suddenly realising they’re Kuroo’s. A shiver runs down your spine. He spins you around to face him. His lips are set in a firm line, eyes completely devoid of humour, nostrils slightly flared.

“Hi,” you say quietly, testing the waters.

“Hi,” he replies curtly. His hands are still on your waist. Selfishly, you choose not to point that out. Instead, you try to defuse the situation with a light question. Playful tone.

“Where were you this whole time?”

“Looking for you.”

“Well… you found me.” You flash him a sheepish grin. A peace offering of some sort.

“I did.” He doesn’t take it.

“Lucky you.”

Irritation finally seeps through his features. “You just left me on the dance floor!” he snaps. “And then when I find you after searching the entire venue, you’re dancing up on some random guy!”

“It was in good fun!” you retort, wriggling out of his grip. “And I wasn’t dancing up on him.” You want to ask if he’s jealous so badly, but you take a good look at his face and decide against that.

“Fun?” he asks incredulously. “Worrying about losing you, worrying about myself getting lost, then having to worry about that guy after finding you isn’t very fucking fun to me, Y/N!” The words fly out of his mouth like daggers without pause. Once finished, he looks at you with a disappointed gaze, shaking his head lightly, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking down at your shoes. It doesn’t matter if you disagree with him–– a sort of shame drills itself so deeply into your conscience that all you can think about is making things right again. “I didn’t think my actions through.”

A second passes. You wonder what he’s thinking.

“Hey, look at me.” Kuroo lifts your chin up with an index finger. Your wide eyes meet his narrow ones. Just as a pink beam glides over his face, his gaze softens, falls down to your lips. And then you feel his thumb on your chin, barely grazing the skin of your bottom lip. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. The revelry in the background fades to dull beats against your eardrums. Suddenly, you register that he smells of, as usual, blackcurrant and amber.

But now you also smell of blackcurrant and amber.

You’re wearing his clothes. You smell of him.

Kuroo’s eyes crawl back up to yours, wide like he’s just been caught in the middle of a crime. You blink expectantly, ignoring the furious way your heart pounds in your chest. Shallow breaths puff through your slightly parted mouth.

“I am.” It comes out barely a whisper. C’mon. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me––

You gently touch the hand he has on your chin. Kuroo jolts back like he’s been burned. “I’ll, uhm, I’ll be in the car,” he stutters, looking away from your face. He pushes through the sea of people, leaving you all alone on the dance floor, body doused in blue light, fingers touching the area his thumb had been as if preserving its print.

Kuroo hardly notices you slip into the passenger’s seat minutes later. He’s got his forearms hanging over the steering wheel and gaze fixed ahead into the darkness, mind probably running off to a place he wishes his body was, too.

As soon as you’ve buckled yourself in, Kuroo starts the car.

The entire drive home is silent.

Once Kuroo pulls into your courtyard and parks, he turns off the engine, unbuckles his seatbelt, and steps out of the car. Wordlessly, you follow his actions and meet him by the stairs to your door.

“Hi,” you say quietly. He doesn’t look at you.

“Hey.”

The two of you stand outside your front door in silence as you both consider what to say next. This can’t be the way it ends.

“I shouldn’t have… done that,” Kuroo says first.

“Done what?” You choose to play dumb. Call it selfish, but you want to hear him say it. Maybe then it’ll feel as real as it had been. Kuroo sighs and leans his shoulder against the stone wall, crossing his arms over his chest. There’s no way he can dance around what happened. Perhaps the past two months can be summed up as the development of a strong friendship with skilled doublespeak and metaphors and just enough artistic licence, but this can’t. And Kuroo knows that. He can’t feed you an alternative truth like he’s done so many times before. What’s more, he can’t lie to himself anymore. So maybe it’s better just to not speak at all.

Your eyes burn holes into the side of his face. Fine. You’ll concede first. “I was never nervous.”

Kuroo blinks, turns his head around to look at you. “What?”

“I was never nervous. I was playing it cool because I didn’t want to risk befriending you and getting attached.” I’m still playing it cool, you don’t say. And I’m already attached. “Guess I just came off as a bitch instead.” You laugh. “But can you blame me? You were this cute, older guy. Smart, too, since you were interning with my mom. You were my dream guy.”

An amused breath blows out of his nose. “Were?” he questions, grinning, only remembering the fragility of your platonic relationship a second later. “Um––”

“Are.” It slips out of your mouth without you realising. Fuck. Kuroo stills. It’s too late to take back your words now, so you might as well just keep going. “You still are my dream guy.”

Seconds pass and neither of you says anything. Sweat gathers in the palms of your hands. You start to feel your heartbeat through your neck. The buzz of the cicadas grows louder. Oppressive. Behind Kuroo, the sky is starting to turn pale blue and pink in the horizon. That means it’s almost sunrise. The night is almost over, and, hopefully, so is this awful conversation.

“And… you don’t feel the same.” Funnily, you feel like you’re lying. You’re telling Kuroo how he feels and you think you’re lying. Does that make sense? None of this night even feels real. God, you hope this has all just been a dream. Mustering a soft smile, you say, “That’s okay. Thank you for the party. And the adventure.” It was fun while it lasted. You feel the house key in your pocket and turn to unlock the door. “I hope this doesn’t change anything between us, Kuroo. Can we still be friends?” The words leave your mouth feeling like barbed wire. You know damn well you can’t still be friends.

And suddenly, you feel his calloused hands around your cheeks. Suddenly, his hot breath fans over your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he murmurs.

Your eyes close instantly. “Yes, please.”

And suddenly, his soft lips are on yours.

Kuroo breaks the kiss seconds later. “Fuck,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours, touching the tips of your noses together. “Y/N, I don’t want to be friends. Fuck.” A dry chuckle leaves his mouth. He pauses to collect his thoughts but decides that that can wait. Instead, he presses another kiss to your lips so fervently that he backs you up against the wall with no space between your bodies. You wonder if he can feel your heartbeat like this, chest to chest. Kuroo’s hands travel down your waist and rest on your hips. His tongue runs across your tongue, your teeth, the insides of your mouth. You gently suck on it, drawing a satisfied moan from him. When the kiss ends, you see that his lips are red and cheeks are swollen. A warm feeling spreads through your chest. “I thought I could be happy just being friends with you but I can’t. I want you so bad it hurts. Not to mention, when I saw you in my hoodie?” His fingers pinch the material. “I thought God was testing me or some shit.”

“Sure didn’t feel like you wanted me that way,” you retort, still breathless.

“In my defence,” Kuroo says, thumbs tracing your cheekbones, “I was very scared.”

“Of what?”

It looks like he’s about to tell you, but he changes his mind and doesn’t answer. He grabs your hand and pulls you back to the car with a cheeky grin. “I’ll tell you only if you tell me where we can watch the sunrise.”

Kuroo holds your hand, stroking your thumb the entire drive there.

After a short hike, you plop down on the grassy hillside, supporting your body with outstretched arms in the back. Kuroo sits down beside you with one of his hands covering yours, fingers intertwined like a honeysuckle vine around a hazel tree. You tell him that you grew up running along this hill with your parents. It used to be your playground. Maybe, you think, it’s time to make new memories here.

“Beautiful,” Kuroo breathes, a wonderstruck look in his eyes. The sun’s just risen halfway above the pink and blue horizon, the saturated orange casting the entire city below gold. It’s not just the city, though. He’s also gold. He’s just as beautiful. You watch him with a soft smile on your lips, noting how his wide eyes and slack jaw return to normal as he stares off into the distance. After resting your head on his shoulder, you fix your eyes on the sunrise ahead. You wonder what he’s thinking so quietly about.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you finally ask once the sun has finished revealing itself.

Kuroo blinks, returning to reality, but continues to stare straight ahead. “I was just thinking about… soulmates.”

You lift your head off his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates now,” you tease.

“Hmm.” He turns to look at you, the sun turning his hazel eyes the colour of honey. That same wry smirk from Jack’s returns to his face.

“You wanna know why I was so scared?”

“Pray tell.”

“Because I’ve never felt this way towards anyone.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“No,” Kuroo laughs, laying his head down in your lap, looking up into your eyes. “I’m serious. I used to purposely stay away from girls in high school. Same in college. Same all the way until you somehow wormed your way into my life. That’s why we wouldn’t have been friends.” You cock your head to the side.

“Why?” you ask, running your fingers through his hair.

Kuroo’s eyelids flutter shut. He inhales deeply before talking. “My parents are divorced. The years before the divorce were… very ugly.”

(He spares you the details of the midnight arguments, the smashed plates, the holes in the walls. He spares you the details of how he only ever knew how to fall asleep with his head sandwiched between two pillows, how he hasn’t seen his sister in a decade, how he’ll curse and snap but never yell because he always feels like a child again around the noise. That’s for another time, if you’ll have any.)

“I still remember all the fighting and yelling. For the longest time, that’s all I knew about marriage and relationships.”

“Did you think all relationships were like that? Fighting and yelling?” you ask.

“For a while, yeah. I’m still a little scared of that, to be honest. Ending up in a relationship where all you do is fight.” Kuroo sighs. “But that’s not the only thing. I thought I wouldn’t know how to love someone, growing up like that.” At that, your fingers pause in his hair.

“Wait,” you say, furrowing your brows. A wave of immense sadness (not for yourself, for him) washes over you. “You think you wouldn’t know how to love someone else?”

“Thought.” Kuroo cracks open his eyes and smiles up at you. “I’m in the process of changing my mind.”

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou scenarios #kuroo tetsurou imagines #haikyuu!!

691 notes · View notes

evelxtus · 3 years

Note

Heyy! I've been stalking your page and I gotta say i really love your writing and the way you decide to bring out the character's personality! ❤ This may seem a little different from the requests you usually get, but could you do a scenario with Albedo where he finds his female partner crying because she's insecure about her small chest?

I'd like to say there's nothing wrong with being small chested, all chest sizes are beautiful! I try to stay positive about my body but with the current beauty standard it gets hard sometimes, especially when my friends comment about my chest. Albedo is my favourite comfort character, and it would mean alot to me if I could kinda "imagine" him comforting me about my body image with your writing haha 😅

-> Scenario, fluff.

Albedo x Fem!Reader.

Note: Hey! First of all, thank you for your words.❤️ And respect your request, I was waiting for someone to ask for something like this! Thank you so much for doing it! You're absolutely right— all chests and bodies are precious. Here you got Albedo making that clear for yall. Be happy and love yourselves, babies.💗

Where did you go when you felt bad? No matter how cold it was in Dragonspine, there was always a trail of warmth that led you to Albedo's refuge.

In addition, there were the smell of old books, dust and chemicals mixed, and it was something that did not displease you at all. It reminded you of Albedo essence.

You got a slight jumpscare when you saw the boy suddenly appear. You didn't think he would show up there so soon, and you weren't at your best...

"Good afternoon. It's nice to see how snow-" As soon as he heard a sob from you, the boy quickly turned his head to see you, with his pretty blue eyes wide open.

"Y/N?" He put down a small glass jar, and he walked towards you without wasting time. Seeing you cry made his heart clench with dismay.

He knelt beside you. His eyebrows were raised with concern, and his eyes were trying to make eye contact with yours.

He hesitated before speaking. "Y/N, may I know the reason of your tears?" his voice was especially soft. You looked at him for a few seconds, your vision was still blurry with tears.

"It's about me. You know what I've always thought about my body, right?" you explained without directly saying what was wrong with you. You knew he understood you.

He sighed and slowly shook his head. Of course he knew what you meant. "Did they say anything about it again?" He asked, tilting his head slowly as he removed a lock of your hair from your face.

You shrugged your shoulders. "Yeah, well. My friends joke about that sometimes. I know they don't do it the wrong way, though."

The blonde sat next to you, looking straight ahead, watching as the flakes fell down the wide entrance. He seemed very calm.

"Y/N." He cocked his head, glancing at you. "I think you are beautiful. There is nothing in you that I do not desire to draw on paper with my pencil." You looked at him again, surprised that he had said those words.

"Nothing?" you mumbled.

"Indeed." a small smile appeared on the boy's pale face. He removed one of the gloves, leaving his hand exposed. The boy caressed your cheek and wiped away a tear with his thumb. He felt very warm to you.

"If only you'd let me draw you," he continued. "You would realize how gorgeous you are to my eyes. My most beautiful work of art, without a doubt."

You snuggled your cheek into his hand, enjoying the soft touch he gave you. "Albedo..."

"Your chest isn't what makes you pretty. It's self-love, or at least that's what I've been taught. I don't need a lot of experiments to draw that conclusion, if just looking at you is enough for me."

You couldn't bear the urge, and you threw yourself into his arms to hug him, pressing your cheek against his chest. The boy was silent now, remembering every word he had blurted out and he could see quite flushed. His fingers went through your hair slowly.

"Thanks." you whispered.

"T-there's no need. I was just expressing an opinion." His calm tone now seemed a bit more altered, feeling how the heat rise to his cheeks.

After that he cleared his throat. "Do you want to... uhm... walk with me until nightfall?"

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin albedo #albedo x reader #albedo x female reader #genshin x female reader

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hansols-yoda-boxers · 3 years

Text

Bad Decisions (Just You)

Seungcheol x Female Reader

Word Count: 5436

Contents: reader is a bratty sub but cheol is fucking whipped, oral (male receiving) while sleeping, manhandling, slight body praise, choking, pet name (babygirl), sir kink, dom svt, hair pulling, face fucking, drooling, fingering, marking, living room sex, wall, sex, bed sex (all unprotected), multiple creampies, very slight breeding kink

Note: So as if this is some pop song I’ve given it two titles cuz I couldn’t decide. Anyways okay this is so late and I am so sorry for that but a very happy belated birthday to @bootyful-seventeen !!!! You are so much fun to talk to and I know I can go to you with that weird shit and you’ll roll with it. You write fun stuff and I really love that you don’t take it too seriously, the lighthearted stories are wonderful and your soft dad!svt stuff makes my heart melt. You are genuinely such enjoyable company and I hope you know that I really love our friendship and I’m really happy to know you.

Truly, the day had been a veritable orgy of dumb decisions.

You shouldn’t have gotten so worked up when you woke up, cuddling with your boyfriend and feeling something hard pressing into your lower stomach. You shouldn’t have looked at the clock to see that Seungcheol’s alarm would go off in approximately six minutes. You shouldn’t have shimmed below the covers and found a cozy spot between his legs.

You definitely shouldn’t have pulled down his sweats and started sucking him off to wake him up.

And yet you did, despite truly, honestly, definitely knowing better you couldn’t help yourself and you did it anyway because life really is too short to deny yourself the pleasure that is your boyfriend’s cock, even if you didn’t think through the timing at all.

And so you felt a hand in your hair as you moved your lips, taking his cock into your mouth. And you heard his low, gravely, early morning groans, the first sound out of his mouth that sent arousal careening through your body and had you pressing your thighs together. You sunk into the bliss, letting your hand slip between your legs to tease yourself, mind clouded with the enticing idea of morning sex, knowing it would set your day up just right.

Until Seungcheol’s alarm started blaring in your ears and he let out a much more annoyed groan. His hand pulled off the blankets easily and you gave him the sweetest look you could, still whining as he pulled you back off of his cock and rolled out of bed.

“Aw, come on we ca-”

“No,” he warned. “You know I don’t have time.” He eyed you, regarding you suspiciously as he pulled his sweats back up. “Now I have to shower and get ready and deal with this,” he motioned to the now very obvious boner in his sweats, “before I leave.”

“You had that before I started,” you whined. “And you know I could help y-” Your words fell off as he leaned closer to you suddenly, grabbing your jaw firmly with a slow burning intensity in his gaze.

“If I let you help me, I’ll be late. So now thanks to you, I won’t be able to get the thought of fucking your mouth out of my head. You’ve already managed to ruin me for the whole day.” You tried to bite back the grin tugging at your lips but you couldn’t and Seungcheol’s grip tightened. “Don’t get smug, babygirl.”

You didn’t wipe the look from your face, watching him as he let go of you and headed for the bathroom. “What are you gonna do about it?” You giggled. Seungcheol threw you a look over his shoulder as he left the room.

Unsurprisingly, the bad decisions did not end there.

You had things to do, it wasn’t like your day was empty but you did have some free time, and most of what you needed to do was from home today. And on any other day that wouldn’t mean much more than that you would start dinner since it was easier for you to get something ready.

Today, however, it meant you were going to tease him.

Once he was on his way you got yourself out of bed, taking you time washing up and picking pretty lingerie. You grabbed a pair of leggings and searched through his closet to find one of his shirts and felt only the slightest bit unhinged at how you couldn’t stop smiling and chuckling to yourself over your plan to mess with him all day.

And mess with him you did. The morning started off with innocent selfies when you had spare moments. The first few he reacted to sweetly but as you sent further back and then mirror selfies he got frustrated. It was far too easy to wind him up and so much fun teasing him about what was hidden under his big, comfy shirt.

The more frustrated his messages became the more it egged you on. The more it made you wanna act like a brat. In between his warnings not to distract him while he was working (and your instances that he didn’t have to open the pictures in the middle of his work day) you could sense his desperation. You knew that with every minute that passed he wanted you more and more and that feeling was just far too fun and far too powerful.

That’s what you told yourself as you had slipped your leggings off that afternoon and started teasing yourself over your panties, why you pulled your shirt up and caught it between your teeth, letting out muffled little moans and whines as your fingers worked and your hips rolled and bucked and followed the sensations.

As you started recording the video you were much more ready to say you were just messing with him further and not that all of your shenanigans had backfired only slightly and had you far too needy when he wouldn’t be home for another hour or so. You had to hope that when he got home he’d be too needy and wouldn’t try to punish you by taking away sex.

Then again, any time he’d tried that he gave in after a day or two. He really couldn’t resist you.

“When are you coming home?” you whined through the fabric between your teeth. “Please, I need you so badly.” Admittedly, you were hyping it up a little more for the camera just to get to him but the thought of how he would be when he got home was all the incentive you needed.

“Please, please fuck-” You ended the video. You knew very well you were going to be in trouble for sending him a video and then not letting him see you cum, but today was a day for bad decisions and you were rolling with it now. A long moan left your lips and your back arched as you came, legs trembling and core squeezing around your measly fingers, reminding you of what you really wanted inside of you.

You felt a little dazed as you sent the video, though not nearly as fucked out as you wanted to feel. Either way you let yourself flop back on the bed, comfy and considering a nap while you waited for Seungcheol to come home. You could go start dinner though, not that you felt you would be eating when he walked in the door. Your sleepy mind thought about what you might make and if you needed to prepare anything ahead of time until your phone buzzed.

[You’re in so much trouble, babygirl]

You snickered as you read the message.

[Well you’re not here, looks like I can do what I want]

[Not for long]

[You’re such a little brat today, babygirl]

[Better hurry up and get home before I wear myself out] You couldn’t keep in your chuckles as you put down your phone, heading to the bathroom to freshen up just a bit. You could figure out food later but at the moment what you really wanted was to think about your boyfriend getting home. You took as much time as you could washing up, picking out his favourite perfume for you and fixing your lingerie and hair. You took the opportunity to turn on a sex playlist, hoping that you hadn’t added anything that would wreck the mood too much. You were preoccupied enough that you missed the soft click of the front door.

“You wanted to test me today.”

You spun around and gazed down the hall to where Seungcheol had just come through the door and was taking off his shoes. His gaze was dark and intense and it filled you with arousal as much as it did glee. As soon as they were off he was making his way towards you as you stepped out into the hallway. You bit down on your lip, trying not to smile too widely as he grabbed you by the waist and pushed you back until you hit the wall with a gasp that was quickly swallowed by his lips.

He kissed you with all the pent up passion and tension from a day of teasing, hand coming up to your throat as he pressed you into the wall with his body. You easily let his tongue past your lips, whining unabashedly against him as his free hand grabbed at your hip and he pressed one of his thighs between your legs.

Your hands couldn’t help themselves, pulling him closer by his hair at first, but it wasn’t long before they wandered. They seemed to have a mind of their own as they moved down his shoulders and you felt up his arms, feeling him smile into the messy kisses and urging your hips to move, grinding on his thigh subtly. Your hands moved further, slipping down his back before grabbing at his ass and drawing a light groan from him before he pulled away from the kiss, lips moving to your ear as the hand around your throat tightened.

“Do you know how much grief you caused me today?” He growled. “Do you know how much trouble you’re in babygirl?”

“Not enough,” you hummed, solely to get his hand just a little tighter and have him push you down on his thigh a little more roughly. He pressed his hips into you, rutting against you and you felt even more heat pooling between your legs, your mouth watering at the feeling of his hard length pressing into you from the movement.

“Do you feel that, babygirl?” His voice was rough and you could hear his own desperation just under the surface. “Do you feel what you do to me? Do you know how hard it was to get through the day with you acting up like that? Spending me pictures of your pretty body? Sending video?”

“H-H-” you tried to speak but the way he pressed his thigh up between your legs and rolled his hips against you drew a desperate moan from your lips instead, your hands grabbing at him and trying to pull him closer. Your legs trembled slightly as you ground your core down against his thigh, feeling the dull sparks igniting inside you and wanting more.

“You’re such a brat today,” he growled, easily adding to the arousal pooling between your legs and drawing a whimper from your lips. Your mind was quickly closing on in your goal, fueled by your need and wanting almost nothing more than for him to fuck, you brain searching for any words that would have that happening faster.

“Y-You-” You forced your words out despite your whines and hazy mind. “You sh-should punish me, sir.”

A gasp left your lungs as he pulled his thigh out from between your legs. His hand moved from your throat to your shoulder and he pushed you down roughly to your knees, his hand tangling into your hair easily. You gazed up at him with a pout and he smirked down at you as his other hand undid his belt.

“I know what you want, babygirl,” he murmured, unzipping his pants. “I know that you want me to fuck you against every piece of furniture in this apartment.”

“Please,” you whined, whimpering louder when he tugged roughly on your hair.

“You’ve been a brat. Getting off without me is one thing, but using it to taunt me while I can’t do anything? And now you think you deserve to get off again? To get just what you want?” He chuckled, shaking his head before giving you an intense gaze. “Open your mouth, babygirl.”

You kept your eyes on him, letting out a whine but doing as he said as he pushed his boxers down. You itched to look at his cock, hard in his hand as he pumped it slowly and groaned. You squirmed, letting your tongue hang out as you gave him a sweet look. Seungcheol brought his cock to your lips and you leaned forwards, earning another chuckle from his lips.

“Pretending to be eager now? Do you think that’s going to make it up to me, babygirl?”

“No, sir,” you mumbled as sweetly as you could. “I j-” you gasped again as he tugged at your hair roughly. Before any more words could make it out of your mouth he thrust his cock between your lips, letting out a groan.

“You’re too mouthy today, babygirl,” he groaned. “Let me use that pretty mouth for something more productive.”

Seungcheol held your head still as he started to fuck into your mouth. Groans fell off his lips as and his gaze grew darker and darker as his hips moved steadily into your mouth. Your hands dug into the skin of your thighs, breathing through your nose and trying not to touch yourself the way you desperately wanted to.

“God, your mouth feels so good,” he groaned. “Maybe I’ll just fuck your mouth all night, babygirl. You’ve been so bratty maybe I won’t even fuck you. I shouldn’t, you don’t deserve it.”

You let out a desperate moan around his cock. He was only saying that to get to you, he wanted it as badly as you did. But now, with his cock in your mouth and your thighs pressing together and getting no relief the only thought on your mind was to get more. You did your best to relax your throat, trying to lean forwards and take more of his cock.

Seungcheol cursed under his breath, his grip in your hair tightening as his cock breached your throat. You gagged around his length, drool dripping out from the covers of your mouth before he pulled his cock back to let you breathe.

“If you want me to fuck you properly,” his voice was growing rougher as his hips picked up their pace, fucking into your mouth faster. “Then you shouldn’t make your mouth any more enticing, babygirl.”

You moaned around him in response, keeping your gaze on him as best you could as his cock thrust into your throat again, a deeper growl leaving his lips at the feeling as you moaned around him and felt more drool coming from your mouth, getting more and more messy by the second as he started to chase his high.

“Fuck, you feel so good, babygirl,” he growled. “Your pretty mouth f-feels so good.” His hips started to snap into your mouth more quickly and you kept your jaw and throat as relaxed as you could, moaning around his cock and trying to grind or roll your hips on nothing, needing some relief desperately.

Seungcheol, let out a rough growl as he pushed into your throat and came, holding your head down on his cock as he released. His cum ran down your throat and pooled into your mouth. You gasped to catch your breath when he slowly pulled his cock away and tilted your head back, looking down at you hazily.

“God you look pretty like that, babygirl,” he groaned.

Your voice was breathy and had a desperation you could no longer hide. “I’d look better bent over the couch, right sir?”

He bit down on his lip to hold in the near growl that came from his chest but there was nothing hesitant about the way he pulled you to your feet roughly by your hair. Was your mind not already on the goal of being fucked you would be downright giddy at the way he handled you so roughly. His hands grabbed at you as you made it to your feet and he pushed you to the couch, bending you over it easily.

You bit down on your lip, gasping as he pulled at your panties, tearing them off and spreading your legs. One of his hands tangled into your now messy hair while the other dragged through your folds. You pressed your hips back into his hand and heard him chuckling, though his voice was much breathier.

“You’re just so enticing, babygirl,” he groaned, easily pushing two fingers into you as he leaned over you back. “God, even when I want to punish you I just can’t help myself. I shouldn’t be fucking you when you’ve been so bratty, but I really can’t resist your pretty pussy.” You let out small moans as you ground your hips back and he curled and thrust his fingers at a steady pace. “The way you get so desperate for me, the way you’re moaning for me,” he pressed his lips to your back, between your shoulder blades. “I know you know what you do to me.”

You lost yourself in the feeling, shamelessly rolling and grinding your hips back as much as he’d allow. His fingers moved more and more quickly, feverishly, into your cunt. His lips found the back of your neck and sucked marks into your skin, drawing shivers down your spine and moans from your lips at the feeling.

Your toes curled as he pressed a third finger inside easily. Your head fell forward as you pressed your hips back even more and moaned out for him, fingers grabbing at the fabric of the couch to steady yourself as the intense feeling in your core built stronger and stronger.

“God you’re so cute when you’re needy. You got yourself all worked today too, didn’t you babygirl?” You moaned, nodding your head and feeling your legs tremble as you clenched around his fingers at his words. Your hips kept moving, getting so close to your high as the coil in your core curled tightly.

Curses feel off your lips as Seungcheol nipped at your ear. “I really shouldn’t give you what you want,” his voice was rough as he pressed his hips against you, his hard cock pressing against your ass.

“Please,” you weren’t even sure what you were begging for as your mind spun. Did you want to cum right now or did you want his cock first? Both ideas sounded heavenly to your very clouded, very aroused, extremely needy brain. “Please, sir, please.”

You bit down on your lip to hold in your whine as he pulled his fingers from your core. A hand found your hair and you let out a gasp as he pulled you up roughly, bringing his wet fingers to your lips.

“Open up, babygirl.”

You let your lips fall open easily, eyes fluttering closed as you tasted yourself on his fingers, suck them clean messily. Your tongue ran over his digits as he let go of your hair, dropping his hand between your legs and nearly making your knees buckle as he suddenly started rubbing fast, rough circles into your clit.

You cursed around his fingers, legs shaking as you leaned your thighs against the back of the couch, trying to stay on your feet as the pleasure coursed through you. The coil in your core curled tighter and your moans climbed higher in your voice. Seungcheol’s lips sucked roughly at the side of your neck as he rutted against your ass and low growls rumbled from his chest.

He waited until you were right on your edge to pull his hand away. A whine welled up in your throat but it didn’t make it out as his hand found the middle of your back and pushed you forward, bending you over the couch again. He pulled your thighs a little wider and you felt your eyes roll back and flutter closed as you sunk his cock into your cunt.

“H-H-” No words made it off your lips as he grabbed your hips roughly and thrust into you. Moans fell off instead, one after another as every movement of his hips sent pleasure coursing through you, your legs trembling as you teetered on your edge. His thrusts were edging on rough and quick but deep enough that they made you dizzy, his low groans and growls only adding to the arousal curling tightly in your body.

“G-God you feel so f-fucking good, babygirl,” Seungcheol’s fingers dug even more deeply into your hips. The uneven roughness in his voice only serving to turn you on that much more. “God I r-really can’t resist you. Your pretty, tight pussy. F-Fuck the way you moan for me.”

Your voice was a mix of curses and moans and whines of “please, sir, don’t stop, sir.” Your hands scrambled for purchase in the fabric of the couch, on the edges of pillows as his cock sunk into your heat over and over and you started to clench around him. The sound of his hips hitting your ass mixed with the moans and groans falling from both of you as your toes tried to curl.

“Please, s-sir, I- fuck- I’m-” The words could barely make it off your tongue.

“Cum for me babygirl, cum on my cock.”

You cried out, body shaking as you came hard. Pleasure washed over your body in tidal waves, reaching to the tips of your fingers and toes as you moaned for him. What little strength your arms had gave out and you fully fell into the couch below.

Seungcheol’s hips kept moving, fucking you through your orgasm and into sensitivity. Your legs didn’t stop trembling and your moans died to whimpers as his hips kept moving. Your face pressed into the cushion below and your arms were shaky as he let out breathy groans and growls and a few curses at the feeling. Pleasure started to build inside you again, much more easily but he didn’t bring you to your edge again, pulling out quickly.

His hand grabbed your hair and pulled you to your feet and he spun you to face him. His hands found your hips and you gazed up at him, desperate and nearly drooling as he smirked at you, sweat on his brow making his hair stick to his forehead as his chest heaved and he pulled you across the room.

You gasped as he pushed you into the wall, the hot skin of your back hitting the cool drywall as his lips found yours feverishly. The way he kissed you nearly made your legs give out all on it’s own and your hands scrambled to wrap around his neck until he tugged at his shirt, pulling it off of you and ridding you of your bra as well. He made quick work of his own shirt before grabbing both your wrists in one hand and pinning them to the wall above your head. Your legs trembled as he lifted one and wrapped it around his waist as he ground his cock through your folds.

“Are you too tired, babygirl?” he asked, a teasing edge to his voice.

“No, sir,” you whined breathlessly, giving him a sweet look and struggling to keep your eyes open as he pushed into you again, the new angle drawing a high pitched moan from your lips. He ground his hips into you, smirking as your head fell back to the wall and you tried to ground your hips down for more.

“Still needy?” He cooed.

“Please,” you let the words fall off your lips, any sense of shame long gone. “Please keep fucking me. Please I need your cock, I need your cum, I-” your words turned to moans as he thrust up into you roughly before settling on quick, shallow, movements making you tremble easily from the first thrust.

He moved his lips to your ear, voice rough and verging on a growl. “You need my cum, babygirl? Do you want me to cum deep inside you?”

“Please,” your voice was breathy and high as you curled your fingers in towards your palms and squeezed your leg around Seungcheol’s hip. You pulled weakly at his wrists but he easily held them still, hips snapping into you as low groans fell off his lips until his met yours in messy, desperate kisses.

Your legs trembled, the wall and Seungcheol’s body weight holding you up as a coil started to curl tightly in your sensitive core again. You could barely focus on the kisses, leaving messy moans against his lips as his thrusts grew a little rougher and uneven.

Seungcheol let out a moan against your lips as he released deep inside you. He ground his cock slowly into your cunt and you let out a broken whimper at the feeling of his cum filling you even more, flexing and curling your fingers out as your hips followed his movements greedily, still wanting more.

Seungcheol pulled you leg away from his hip and let go of your hands and you braced yourself against the wall. He let your leg down but was quick to push your thighs apart, dropping down and shooting you a warning look to keep your legs apart for him. You bit down on your lip as he drew his fingers up your inner thigh.

He let out a groan as you felt his cum starting to drip out of you. Your legs were shaky and weak but you did your best to hold yourself up as he brought his fingers to drag through your folds, gathering his cum before fucking it back into your sensitive core. Small whimpers slipped out and you struggled to stay on your feet as his fingers fucked you slowly, your core clenching around them, having a mind of its own.

Seungcheol chuckled as he pulled his hands away and stood in front of you. His clean hand came up around your neck, pressing down every slightly while he pressed his fingers to your lips and you took them into your mouth just the way he wanted. You gazed with heavily lidded eyes into his intense ones, subtly biting the inside of his lip as he watched you suck on his fingers.

“Do you need a little more, babygirl?” His voice was quieter but still had a roughness to it and made you needy cunt clench again as his cum dripped down your thighs. You nodded lazily, giving him a sweet expression and reaching for him to pull him closer to you.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth, pressing into your body with his and kissing you roughly, squeezing your throat just a little more. You kissed him greedily, his own kisses following suit. You grabbed at him weakly and moaned against his lips as he ground his cock against you. Even though your body was tired, your legs felt like they might give out if you stood on them for much longer, you couldn’t help yourself. You were all wrapped up in him and you wanted every little bit he could give you.

Seungcheol’s hands grabbed your waist and you gasped as he pulled you away from the wall and properly into the bedroom. His movements were even more forceful as he pushed you down onto the bed and you couldn't help the lazy smile that tugged at you lips as you gazed up at him, squealing as he pulled your hips roughly to the edge of the bed and lifted your legs, throwing them over his shoulders.

He leaned over you, grinding his cock through your folds and drawing a moan from your lips as his cock rubbed over your clit. “You can’t get enough of me, can you babygirl?” He teased.

“No sir,” your voice came out breathy as you gazed up at him, wanting nothing more than for him to sink his cock back into your core. “Please.”

His hand found your throat again, pressing down lightly. “I give into you too easily,” he said, gazing at you heatedly. “You’re lucky you’re so addicting babygirl. So lucky I’ll never get enough of you.” Both of you let out moans as he pushed into you, your legs trembling from the feeling alone.

“You’re so lucky I need you so badly,” he groaned as he pulled back and thrust into you roughly. “And that having you like this is one of my favourite things, o-otherwise you’d be in so much trouble for being such a needy brat all day.” His voice wavered just a bit as he gave you strong, deep thrusts between pulling out slowly, each one making you cry out in pleasure and struggle to keep looking at you.

“Fuck, watching your tits bounce every time,” his grip on your hips got tighter and his thrusts faster, picking up a steady pace even tough they stayed just as rough. “Feeling your legs shaking in my hands. The way you c-clench around me.” You took in his rough, low voice as he spoke, building back up to his next orgasm.

Your own release built too, the coil in your core curling tighter and tighter with every movement. Your fingers sunk into the soft sheets and gripped them as your head spun and moans poured off your lips. Your mind could barely find the words and make up sentences anymore, so wrapped up in the pleasure he was giving you as his hips snapped into you.

“C-Cu- F-F-F- C-” The words were so hard to get out of your foggy brain but you heard Seungcheol’s breathy chuckle.

“Are you going to cum again, babygirl?”

You let out a whine, trying to find the words in your muddy, hormone addled brain. “Y-Y- Yo- c-c-c-”

Seungcheol leaned over you, his hips driving into you much faster and only his hands on your hips keeping you from being pushed up the bed with the force of his thrusts. “Do you want more of my cum, babygirl?”

“P-Pl-” you managed to nod between moans and struggling with words.

“I’ll give you j-just that, babygirl.” he growled. “You t-take my cum so well how could I resist f-filling you until you can’t take anymore. I know how b-badly you want it. G-God I could fuck you senseless like this every day, f-fucking you full of my cum until you’re carrying my child. Is that what you want, babygirl?”

You cried out, back arching off the bed as you came hard. Your eyes squeezed shut and stars burst behind your eyelids as your body shook. Pleasure crashed over you in a tidal wave, reaching every bit of your body as Seungcheol’s cock kept pounding into you.

Curses fell off his lips as your body kept shaking and whimpers started to fall off your lips. Your whole body felt sensitive and your sounds were high in your voice as your mouth hung open, gaze hazy and eyes barely open and he chased his high, fucking you hard until his hips started to stutter.

He released deep inside you with a loud, low, rough groans. You tried to catch your breath as you felt his cum filling you more and more in thick ropes, his grip on your hips holding you in place as he ground slightly into your heat.

As he started to catch his breath he pulled out of your slowly, wrapping a hand around his cock and watching as his cum started to leak out of your cunt. You felt him bring his cock back to your core and let out a whine, squirming under him as he pushed his cock back in slowly with a breathy groan.

“Fuck you just feel so good,” he said. “I can’t help myself.” He pulled back and let more cum drip out before pushing it back in slowly again. You squeezed your eyes shut, whimpering and pressing the side of your face into the bed and he pulled out, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek before letting your legs down.

Despite how tired he’d gotten he went to get a washcloth. You listened to his footstep leave and come back moments later, whimpering as he brought the warm cloth between your legs. He hushed you gently, rubbing your hip soothingly as he cleaned you up, taking another cloth to wipe the sweat off your brow and you smiled slightly at how refreshed it made you feel.

As he climbed into bed with you you looked at him blearily and he gave you a soft smile. He helped you move up the bed and pulled you to lay on his chest, rubbing your back gently and pressing kisses to your forehead.

“Do you need anything to eat?” He hummed.

You shook your head, nuzzling into his chest.

“Anything to drink? Or do you want a bath?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled. “Just you. I just want you.”

“Perfect,” he said softly. “Because I just want you, too.”

#I AM SORRY ITS SO LATE #but also im so happy i did this #as much as i had trouble focusing #it's been ages since i wrote anything for cheol #i love him so much you guys #happy birthday sam #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #svt imagines #svt smut #s coups imagines #s coups smut #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol smut #choi seungcheol imagines #choi seungcheol smut

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monstersandmaw · 4 years

Text

Male drider x reader - Part Four (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

I think the previous parts have had a female reader, but I left it ambiguous/gender neutral in this one, even in the nsfw bits, mostly out of habit.

It's 8000 words, with a bit of angst, a good dose of fluff, some recognition of unhealthy attitudes, and a slightly messy nsfw scene at the end...

Hope you enjoy!

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Gilvas waited until you’d closed the matching panel at the other end of the secret passage, and then turned away.

While you worked on the catalogue, you couldn’t shake the vulnerable look on his face as he’d told you about his late wife and as you’d stared at her vivacious features in the portrait. In the nine years since her death, he’d become a shadow, haunting this creepy old mansion and drifting from one day to the next, and it broke your heart. Gilvas was clearly a gentle soul, though his fuse was short at times, but you had begun to suspect that it was more of a defence mechanism than a character trait.

As evening billowed around the stone walls of the enormous house at the end of the day, with an awful lot still swirling around your mind, you nearly walked straight into Naril who was loading his last pile of autumn leaves into a wheelbarrow by the back door. He called your name just in time and you sidestepped with a bashful grin.

“So is it true?” he asked almost immediately.

“Is what true?”

His ears waggled and he laughed as he dumped the leaves into the barrow with a little flourish. “You and the master…?”

“Me and the master what?” you snorted, crossing your arms. “You make it sound like we’re school kids caught snogging behind the bike sheds! He showed me the portrait of his wife and told me a bit about her, that’s all.”

Naril shook his head expressively. “We’ve had people here on the estate before, you know? None of them ended up strolling the corridors with him.”

“How’d you know about it anyway?” you asked instead, resisting the urge to flick him in fond reprimand on his large ear.

“Chiara came in and started talking to my dad about it. I couldn’t believe it, and neither could they. The master doesn’t ‘chat’ with anyone…”

You shrugged. “Well, if he’s happy talking to me, I’m happy enough to listen. He seems nice, once you get past the way he likes to bark at you.”

Two days later, while you were stooped over the working version of the catalogue, scribbling something down in the margins of your cataloguing notes, the shadows moved in the recesses of the library, and Gilvas emerged. You looked up and smiled. “Hi,” you offered.

He nodded curtly at you and began to pace.

Setting your pencil down a minute or two later, you asked, “Everything… alright?”

Gilvas turned, apparently on the point of snapping something acerbic and defensive at you, but he caught himself in time and paused, throat working. The dark red birthmark on his neck moved and shifted like ink in water. If asked, you’d have said he was nervous. “I… I was wondering if you would take tea with me on the terrace today.”

You froze. Of all the things you’d been expecting from him, that had not been it. “Uh…” you began artlessly.

“Or not. You don’t have to,” he blurted, turning away. “Stupid idea anyway.”

“Wait,” you laughed, relief washing through you. “Wait. I’d love to. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“Oh.”

If you’d been surprised, it was nothing to the expression on Chiara’s face when he summoned her to the library with a little bell pull that you’d not spotted before.

“You… You want to take tea… You want to take tea outside…?” the harpy repeated, looking unsteady on her clawed feet.

As if he’d just realised how unusual it was, his expression went blank, his four ruby eyes going dull, and he seemed to deflate. Gone was the intimidating, sharp-edged lord of the manor, and in his place you saw a vulnerable, shattered widower, with no one to talk to and rusty social skills.

Reading her master well enough, Chiara schooled her features into something resembling their usual sternness, and she nodded. “Of course. I will have it set up for you and…” she looked at you with her golden eyes and you tried not to shrink away. “For the both of you.”

“Thank you,” you said, and she nodded, departing.

“I think I gave her quite the shock,” he muttered, half smirking.

With a snort, you said, “We’re just going to have to find more ways to surprise them.”

“Them?”

“Your staff,” you said. “It’s clear that they all respect you, and they enjoy working here - well, obviously I can’t speak for all of them, but I have supper with Mr. Ambleside and his son almost every night. I don’t get the impression that they’d object to seeing a bit more of their mysterious master from time to time.”

“It’s been so long,” he croaked. “I… I’ve hidden myself away up here. I… I don’t remember — I mean…” he broke off and you noticed how glassy his eyes were.

Cautiously, you approached him and laid your hand on his foremost right leg. It was smooth like glass, and cold. It felt extremely brittle, though you knew the chitin was pretty tough. Your eyes nearly drifted to the empty stump on his right side though, and you suppressed a shiver. It wasn’t that tough. He shuddered and you nearly retracted your touch. “Sounds like you could use a friend to take tea with every now and again…” you said gently.

“I’d like that,” he said. “If… If you could bear it.”

“Bear it?” you repeated. “Please. I wouldn’t have accepted if it wasn’t something I didn’t already want to do.”

Gilvas fixed you with a piercing red gaze, making the blood-dark streak of his hair and the swirling birthmark stand out in vivid detail. “No,” he mused slowly, his legs and spider body relaxing a little into your touch like a great machine coming to rest. “I don’t suppose you would.”

Tea on the terrace became a daily fixture, weather permitting, and on the first day it was rained off, he asked you into a small drawing room on the ground floor that you’d never been in before.

Four and a half months into your stay, he leaned over the table and poured you another cup with shaking hands. He always shook, you realised, though the tremors worsened when he grew agitated or emotional. If Naril was right, he was about ten years older than you, and while at times he seemed youthful and almost playful when you got him talking about one of his interests - mathematics was a particular favourite of his - there were times when he seemed stiff and tired, and much, much older than you; and older than he truly was. He carried the weight of his grief around with him everywhere, dragging at him like chains, rattling in the quiet corridors of his mind and reminding him of his heartache. He never went too long with a smile on his face, the expression often shattering or sliding off his face to leave a brittle mask behind.

“Gilvas?” you asked as he set the teapot down on the tray with a rattle. “Everything alright?”

“You’re too perceptive by half,” he grumbled. “I wanted to ask you to dine with me tonight.”

“Oh,” you breathed, taken off-guard.

“You sound disappointed,” he said a slight huff to his tone.

Conflicted, you said, “It’s Naril’s birthday. He’s celebrating with the rest of the staff and some of his friends tonight, and he asked me to join him…”

“Then you must go, obviously,” he said. After a pause he added, “Naril is the one who tends to the gardens, is he not?”

“Mmm. He’s a firbolg.”

“My father always hired firbolgs for their way with nature. I’d forgotten that Ambleside has a child. How old is he?”

“About my age, I suppose?”

Whether or not he was aware of it, Gilvas’ face shuttered at that. With a sigh, he shifted his already vague gaze to the huge patio windows beside you and stared out at the gardens beyond. It had been raining earlier, but it had cleared up now to leave broad puddles flashing in the sunlight on the terrace. “I think I will go for a walk through the gardens this evening before sunset…”

“You want some company?” you asked, but he shook his head.

“No. Thank you.”

Naril’s party was just rowdy enough to be fun without straying too far into unruliness, and you stayed up late in the kitchens, laughing and joking with him and his father, who, it turned out, had quite the sense of humour with a few glasses of wine in him. Eloise, the maid, also joined you, and a few friends of Naril’s who lived in Starfall Springs. The laughter continued long into the night, until his friends from town announced that it was time to head back just shy of one in the morning.

Waving them off at the end of the night, still buzzing with the unusually vibrant evening, you and Naril turned from the upper gates and walked back to the house. In the dark, the firbolg could see much better than you, so he let you loop your arm amicably through his to stop yourself stumbling on the uneven driveway.

Just as you stepped back into the kitchen, he cracked a good-natured joke at your expense, recalling a moment from earlier in the evening, and you nearly fell about laughing. “Oh my gods,” you wheezed as you clung to his arm to stop yourself tripping up the step. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the plosive consonant with a chuckle. “You’re far too easy to tease. I —” he cut off suddenly, expression falling. His eyes were wide and he was staring at a point on the far side of the kitchen.

You looked up and found the hulking shape of a drider standing silhouetted in the dark doorway. “Forgive me,” Gilvas said stiffly, jaw working. “I came for a brandy. I thought you’d all turned in for the night.”

You blurted, “Gilvas?” at the same time as Naril whispered, “My lord?”

“Forget it,” he said, turning abruptly in the wide doorway. “I hope you enjoyed your evening together.”

Even after the door slammed behind him - the gesture leaving a sour taste in your mouth - neither you nor Naril spoke.

Finally it was Naril who broke the silence. “I’ve never seen him before…” he murmured, awestruck at the encounter. “He looks dreadful. Perhaps he is sick after all?”

“He doesn’t look as dreadful as he looked three months ago,” Chiara’s unexpected voice said tartly from the pantry to your left where she’d apparently been occupied, stowing away the remnants of the uneaten food.

You swallowed. “Well… I… uh… I guess I’d better head back. Thanks for tonight,” you said, hugging Naril briefly. “Happy birthday. I’m sorry I didn’t have anything to give you… It’s not as if I can go into town or anything from here…”

“Couldn’t you ask your friend to pick you up,” he said. “You know, the one you phone every Friday?”

Despite having phoned Damien every week since arriving, you’d never even thought of asking him to drive all the way out here and pick you up for the weekend. He’d probably do it though if you asked. “I guess I could…”

The idea took root in your mind, and as you took your break the next day, you used the house’s landline to call Damien’s shop since he’d be at work too.

“Hey!” he chuckled. “You don’t normally phone today. How’s things at the Spookville Court?”

“Don't call it that,” you scoffed. “It’s fine. Listen, I haven’t got long, but I was wondering if maybe you’d be free this weekend…? I know it’s not exactly a short drive, but I’d kind of like to get out of here for the weekend…”

There was a pause while he checked his calendar. “Sure,” he said. “I can pick you up on Friday night if you like?”

“You don't have plans?”

“I was gonna grab a beer with Sarrigan since he’s in town,” he admitted, “But maybe if you can get away early, we could go together?”

“I don’t see why I couldn’t…” you said. No one was monitoring your hours after all, and it wasn’t as if you hadn’t made huge inroads into the project already.

You grinned and practically flung yourself at him when Damien’s truck drew up outside your cottage on the far side of the courtyard. The wide expanse of gravel sat on the side of the house with the servants’ entrance, and was overlooked by the back of the mansion.

“I missed you!” you laughed, letting the colossal orc spin you easily in a circle. “You still smell like chocolate,” you said as his immensely long, black plait caught you in the face.

“Just proves I’m sweet,” he joked, and you groaned, smacking him in the chest with the back of your hand as he set you down.

“That was a bad pun, even for you.”

“You ready?” he asked.

“You don’t want to stretch your legs first? You’ve literally just got here.” He shook his head, but did nip inside your apartment for a drink of water and a bathroom break. While he was gone, you leaned against his truck and looked up at the trees above you. The height of summer was fading to the bronze of autumn now, and a few coppery leaves rained down around you like confetti, spiralling through the air that promised a change of season soon.

“Ready?” he asked, swinging your overnight bag easily into the truck and helping you up the enormous step into the cab.

As you drove away, you glanced up at the house and caught the glint of sun on a window as it closed on one of the upper storeys, but you soon forgot about the house as Damien began to regale you with stories of your friends’ antics.

With Widowsweb Court in the rear view mirror, you sighed and settled into the comfy seat, letting Damien talk as the house dwindled to nothing behind you. It felt good to be away from the limited confines of the estate, but as you looked forward to a weekend in Starfall Springs with your friends, something nagged at the back of your mind, like a caught thread pulling in the sleeve of a favourite sweater…

Your whole weekend in Starfall Springs was like the first breath of fresh garden air after a day spent in the dusty library of Widowsweb Court.

Damien had taken you to the Inglenook Inn that first night, where he, Sarrigan, their respective partners, plus a mothman named Merritt whom you’d met a few times before, and a couple of your other friends were gathered, and the lot of you talked late into the night. There were a lot of questions about Widowsweb Court, but you mostly focused on the work and describing the house and gardens to them. Somehow it felt disrespectful - an invasion of his privacy - to talk about Gilvas much.

As you left the pub to walk back to your modest apartment at the north end of the town, Sarrigan caught up with you. As he scuttled up to you, you were struck suddenly by the difference between him and Gilvas. Sarrigan Silkfoot’s silver-banded fur rippled in the moonlight, ruffled by the night breezes, where Gilvas’ spider body was black, hard, and shiny as black lacquer, and where Gilvas’ legs moved like articulated, curved daggers, Sarrigan’s were chunky and muscular and unbelievably fuzzy, ending in a little hooked and almost dainty talon. Gilvas’ legs ended in wicked points, sharp and slender as paring knives, and his fangs probably carried a deadly venom, where Sarrigan’s smile held only jollity. Gilvas also had no mandibles, where Sarrigan’s hardware clicked and chittered with his emotions.

“Listen,” he said as he fell into a near-silent step beside you. “I know you’ve not got any reception up there at Widowsweb, so I haven’t been able to get in touch by text or whatever, but I just wanted to ask you - away from the others - how it’s going. With my family’s history with theirs, I did some digging into the Widowsweb estate and the family…”

“You did?” You weren’t sure whether to be offended or curious, but in the end, the latter won out. “What did you find?”

“Just tragedy. Lately anyway. Earlier generations seem to have done ok, but… you should look him up.”

“Who, Gilvas?”

He nodded.

“You mean the fire?”

Again, he nodded, shuffling nervously. “The police think he started it, but they could never prove it.”

You scowled, horrified and hurt. “Sarrigan, I’ve met him. He doesn't seem like the type to murder his family - and his unhatched children too?” You shook your head, appalled, stomach roiling. “He’s devastated… rarely talks about them, and when he does… he’s close to tears. I think he lost a leg in the fire too.”

Sarrigan’s handsome face remained harsh and he clicked his mandibles pensively. Finally, he sighed. “Just… be careful, ok? The articles I found all said he had a nasty temper, and that since his wife’s death, he fired all the staff and turned into some kind of recluse…”

“They’ve got the last bit right,” you said, “But not the first.” He did have a short fuse though. “Thanks for looking out for me, Sarrigan, but I’m not worried.”

He nodded once. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

You shook your head and parted from him with a warm hug. “I appreciate it, but trust me… Gilvas isn’t some cruel, violent lunatic. He’s an isolated widower who’s never learned how to move past his grief.”

To your relief, Sarrigan seemed to take you at your word, and left you at your door looking happier for having aired his anxieties, and in turn having had them laid to rest.

The remainder of your weekend passed without incident, but you couldn’t get Sarrigan’s words out of your head. If he’d been painted by the press at the time as some kind of violent monster, it was no wonder that Gilvas had hidden himself away on his estate and never spoke to anyone.

On the Sunday of your weekend away, you met up with a few friends at Damien’s cafe for breakfast, and spent the better part of the day while the sun was out browsing the marketplace. As you passed a carpenter’s stall, your eye was drawn by a number of carved, wooden puzzle boxes. The satyr who had made them was demonstrating how one of them worked to a small crowed of fascinated onlookers, and when he finished, finally sliding the last section of wood free, the lid sprang open to reveal the empty chamber inside, and everyone applauded.

Fascinated, you realised what a tactile thing the boxes were, and suddenly thought of Gilvas. With his reduced sight, he relied a lot on his sense of touch. On a whim, you bought one and had it wrapped neatly in brown paper by the satyr. Thanking him, you headed home and packed up, bringing with you a few new clothes and a few more things to occupy your evenings.

Bouncing back up the driveway in Damien’s truck that evening, you couldn’t miss the looks the orc tossed you sidelong, and as you drew to a halt in the courtyard again, he stayed put in his seat and asked, “Are you really alright here? It’s so remote…”

“It’s fine,” you said. “I love the work, and the people are kind. I promise I’ll ring you the moment I’m unhappy, but for now, I’m honestly loving it. I’ve never had a better or more fulfilling job, Damien. I can’t believe I’ve got so little time left really…” You paused and sighed. “I almost don’t want to leave.”

He bowed his head and backed off, though not without pulling you half into his lap for a bone-crushing hug first. “Take care, OK?” he grunted before releasing you.

“You sure you won’t stay for some supper?” you asked as you slithered out of your side of the cab and landed on the gravel. “I bet you’d love Naril.”

“I can’t,” he said with a regretful grimace. “I need to get back to prep the shop for next week. Another time?”

You nodded. “Drive safely.”

For the entire week following your return to Widowsweb Court, you didn’t see even the slightest glimpse of Gilvas.

There was no trace of his having been in the library at all, and the secret panel at the rear of the room stayed firmly shut. You didn’t think it was your place to go wandering the corridors again, and although you continued to take a mug of tea out onto the terrace every afternoon, it was hardly the spread of High Tea that you had shared with him every day for months. The whole place seemed empty without his presence now, reminding you of your very first week there, when every shadow and doorway had loomed ominously large before you.

Finally, at the end of the week, you ran in to Chiara on your way back down and you paused to let her past with an armful of linen. “Chiara, is… is Gilvas around? Is he alright?”

She narrowed her eyes and tutted softly at you. “None of your concern,” she snipped at you before bustling off.

You stood there, mute and surprised.

It definitely didn’t sound like he was alright, but what were you to him, really? You thought of the box stowed away in your room, waiting for the right time to be brought out and given to him, and suddenly felt foolish. You’d known him for a matter of months. He was a lord, with land and a title; he had a whole household full of things already, and you were just there to reorganise his library. He’d probably already forgotten about you.

You worked solidly through the morning again the next day, but didn’t feel hungry enough to go down to lunch. You continued on through the day, pausing only to sip from your water bottle before heading back up the ladders time and time again with armfuls of books. It was exhausting. There was no trace of the webbing he’d used to catch you, and since there was also no sign of him, you made sure to take extra care going up and down.

With a sigh you finally set down the last of the hagiographies at eight o’clock that night, and put your hands to the small of your back, grunting. Dusty, tired, stiff, and still oddly demoralised, you thought you heard the creak of a door from the back of the library, but you’d barely dared to hope before the main doors opened and Naril stumped in, looking terribly out of place and awkward in his gardening overalls. He had mud on his trousers, but his boots had been scraped clean.

He sighed your name in obvious relief when he spotted you. “You ok?” he asked.

“Fine, why?” you frowned as you turned to face him, still with your palms pressed to the small of your back.

“You didn’t come to lunch, and you missed supper as well. I was worried about you.”

You smiled and dropped your hands to your sides. “I’m fine. I just… haven’t felt like myself lately. Thank you though.”

An awkward silence hung between you, and he scratched the back of his head. “Right. Well, there’s… uh… stuff in the larder and fridge if… if you get hungry. I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t been crushed by a ton of books or something.”

With a chuckle, you said, “This isn’t The Mummy you know? People do actually secure their bookshelves…”

He laughed briefly and headed for the doors again. “Seriously though… Are you sure you’re ok?” he asked, ears waggling.

“I’ve… I’ve got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“Ok,” he said, green eyes wide and glassy. “Well, you can always talk to me. What are friends for, right?”

“Right. Thank you, Naril.”

He nodded, and left.

In the silent stillness of the library, you sank with a heavy sigh into one of the nearby chairs and let your palm cradle your chin, with your elbow planted on the wood of the table. When had this place started to feel so sad again? It was as if the gloom was seeping back into the fabric of the place like a sponge soaking up ink.

About a minute later, a familiar movement caught your attention and you looked up to find Gilvas standing beside a bookshelf. He was tilting his head in that way that meant he couldn’t see you in the dim light, but he knew you were still there.

“I’m here,” you said quietly, hardly daring to move in case he scuttled away.

Locking onto your voice, he moved with expert familiarity round the library and came to a halt near your table. The only light now came from a lamp one shelf over. “I… I overheard…” he began stiffly. His red gaze sailed right over your head, so it was clear that he couldn’t see you, even this close up. “Is… I mean… Are you alright?”

“Could ask the same of you,” you said wryly, eyeing the dark shadows under his eyes and the tightness around his mouth. “I haven’t seen you in ages.” He looked dreadful again, as if he’d hardly eaten anything in the interim.

“Been better, I suppose,” he said. “The firbolg said you haven’t eaten today… is that right?”

“Mmm.”

“Should we raid the kitchen together?”

You smiled. “You haven’t eaten either I take it…”

He shook his head.

Standing, you swayed as a head rush washed over you and you let out a tiny grunt of surprise, grabbing the back of the chair.

With a scowl, he stepped closer. “Alright?” He steadied you, his hand finding your waist and lingering there.

“I missed you,” you breathed unthinkingly as you stared up at him.

Gilvas froze and then let out a rough exhale, withdrawing a few paces. “You did?”

“Mmm. I have something for you too, from Starfall, but it’s back in my room. I… I’d started to think I wasn’t going to see you again…”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his fingers curling briefly into fists at his side. “I… I rather let the melancholy take over again.”

“Why?” you asked, stepping closer to him. His ear followed you and he narrowed his eyes. You got the impression that you’d just stepped into his limited field of vision and he could now make out your silhouette in the shadowy library.

The lord of Widowsweb Court gave a bitter, brittle laugh and turned away, legs moving in sequence like a windup toy. “I think I misled myself,” he said eventually.

Your brows knitted and you closed the distance between you, laying your hand boldly on his cool, obsidian foreleg again. As before, he shivered, but he didn't pull away. “What do you mean?”

“I suppose I got carried away - this past month in particular,” he said in his rough baritone.

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t,” he said, that cut-glass edge returning to his voice. “You don’t know what it was like before you came here; before you —” he stopped himself but then took a breath and continued in barely a whisper, the consonants softly articulated. You had to lean in closer to hear him. “Before you brought the light back to this place.” His voice cracked as he added, “And you took it with you.”

“Gilvas…” you gasped, shocked by his tone.

“I know,” he growled. “It’s inappropriate of me, and melodramatic. You were only gone for two days. But it’s the truth. I got so swept up in spending time with someone again — in… in enjoying myself — that I somehow forgot that you have a whole life outside of our brief interactions here, beyond these walls…”

“Naril's birthday…” you breathed and he nodded. He’d stumbled upon you and Naril sharing a laugh and a close touch at his birthday and had assumed from the physical closeness that there was something more than friendship between you. That had been the last time you’d seen him.

Then he shook his head in disgust and sneered self-deprecatingly, “It’s as though I became a teenager again - spoilt and sour and… everything I loathe about myself.”

He backed away out of your grip until his huge carapace nudged against the shelf behind him and he went still again. Trapped between you and the books, he breathed heavily for a moment through his aquiline nose. Your heart was beating in your throat but you kept quiet.

“I have a nasty, possessive side,” he said, scowling. “I’d almost forgotten about it, but as — I hesitate to call it a friendship… I’m not sure what we had between us — but whatever it was grew, I came to think of you as… mine. And then I saw you laughing with him and… I remembered that you’re not mine at all. I have no right to make those kinds of disgusting demands or claims. You’re not mine — you’re not anyone’s but your own person. I forgot myself, and I hated myself for it.”

He was jealous.

Gilvas was jealous that you’d been laughing with Naril that night. Despite the anguish on his face, you had to smile. When he heard you chuckle softly, he growled at you again, deep and rich and animalistic. Defensive. That was all it was; defensive bluster.

“It’s true that Naril has come to be my friend here,” you said, moving carefully closer to him now that he couldn’t back away any more. “But I thought about you all weekend while I was away. I couldn’t get you out of my head. When my friend Sarrigan —”

“— Silkfoot?” he interrupted with a sneer. “‘Sarrigan’ is an old Silkfoot name…”

“Yes. Sarrigan Silkfoot is a friend of mine,” you said carefully, noting the lingering displeasure in his features. “He’s currently dating a human, and my best friend, Damien, is also very much in love with a human. If you’re worried about what previous generations of Silkfoots thought about relationships between species, you needn’t worry. The current heir to the family - Sarrigan’s older brother - has even recently married a human. Things have moved on since the founding of Widowsweb…”

His chest heaved and he sank lower so that his pendulous spider’s body was only a few inches above the ground, and his torso and head were almost on a level with yours. “I’ve hidden myself away too long,” he whispered, more to himself than to you.

Taking a final step over to him, you stood in the space between his deadly front legs. It felt suddenly intimate in the extreme, and you reached your palm out and laid it on his chest. He flinched, but let you talk.

“Sarrigan told me a bit more about the papers said… about the circumstances of the fire… about what people believed at the time…” you said carefully, and Gilvas’ face darkened dangerously. “But I got to know you before I’d heard that, and I can’t believe you would have started it. I can’t believe anyone thought that of you.” You placed your left palm to mirror your right and felt the way his chest heaved with emotion as he listened. “You’re a good person, Gilvas. I told my friends that, and they believed me. And I think you’ve suffered alone for long enough.”

Gilvas’ expression shattered and he leaned forwards and drew you into his arms. “I don't want you to leave…” he whispered into your hair as he held you close. He smelled like books and sandalwood, warm and comforting, and you let your arms snake around his waist.

“I don't have anything else lined up for after I finish here,” you said without letting go. He was gently inhaling the scent of you, you realised, and you let him hold you, drawing comfort from the warmth of your body. “And I told you there’s a lifetime’s worth of work to do on this library…”

“I could renew your contract,” he said. “Or… Or you could… No. I don't want you to feel… obliged…” he said, swallowing thickly and drawing sharply back from your embrace as if you’d burned him. “If I’m paying you —” his face buckled into a sour grimace and he lurched slightly further away from you. “I don’t want to pay you to stay here…” he spat as if the idea thoroughly disgusted him.

You laughed. “I own my apartment in Starfall. I could rent it out for some income, and come and live here with you. That way… there’s no imbalance…”

“Yes,” he nodded breathlessly, hardly daring to believe what he was hearing. “Yes, that’s… that’s good. And if you still have your apartment, you can… I mean… there will be somewhere for you… if… if you decide…”

“Stop,” you said. “Don’t push me away again.”

The drider took a huge inhale and nodded. Then he licked his lips nervously and said, “You know, we were going to raid the kitchen before we went down this path. You shouldn’t make any rash decisions on an empty stomach.”

“An excellent point,” you said with mock seriousness. “Let’s go.”

Over a rather strange and cobbled-together supper of leftovers scrounged from the pantry, eaten at the scrubbed wooden table in the kitchen, Gilvas stayed almost completely silent. At first, you thought he was just concentrating on eating, being particularly careful about his movements since he didn’t see as clearly as you did, but after a while, you discovered the crinkle in his brow and noticed the tremor in his fingers again.

“Wait here,” you said, pushing back from the table and touching the back of his hand briefly. He was always so cold.

“Where are you going?” he barked, tense.

With a giggle, you said, “Trust me. I’ll be right back.”

And with that, you vanished out of the back door and scuttled over the gravel to the little apartment above the old stable block where you’d been staying for the past few months. Minutes later, you returned to find him exactly where you’d left him, scowling at his food.

He looked up sharply as you reentered, and you watched his shoulders drop with relief a split second later when he figured out that it was you.

“Here,” you said, holding out the brown paper parcel to him, touching it to the back of his fingers in case he couldn’t see it.

In moments, it was obvious to you that he couldn’t, because his fingertips trailed along the edges, looking for a way into the parcel. “What is it?” he asked warily, shifting his head from side to side.

“You’ll find out. I saw them being made in the marketplace, and I think with your sense of touch you’ll probably have an advantage over someone with sharper vision…”

At that, his frown deepened, though not from discomfort. He was openly curious now, and he got to work on the wrappings, abandoning them to one side. “A box?” he murmured when he’d run his fingers all the way around it. Watching him, you suddenly felt a thrum of desire go right through you. You wanted him to do that to your body, to explore you by touch, and you barely bit back a moan as the force of it swept through you.

He paused and turned his face towards you expectantly.

“Yeah,” you croaked. “It’s a puzzle box. It’s all inlaid with different types of wood, and there are a few panels and sections that you have to slide in the right order to open it.”

At that, his face cracked into a gorgeous, open, delighted grin and your heart slipped sideways in your chest at the youthfulness it lent to his features. “I used to love these as a child,” he said. “Thank you.”

He moved then, obviously not having been sitting on a chair like you, and found his way faultlessly around the kitchen to where you were seated opposite him. The little inlaid box lay to one side on the table while he took your hands in his and squeezed your knuckles fondly, earnestly.

“Thank you,” he rasped again.

You raised your chin and he let go of you with his right hand and brought it up to cup your left cheek in his cool palm. His thumb traced an arc across your skin and you shivered, exhaling and breathing hard. “Gilvas…” you whispered, want burning inside you inside you like a flare. You didn’t want to push him or rush him, but if he didn’t kiss you in the next three seconds, you thought you might just wither up and die on the spot.

Mercifully, he leaned down, tilting your chin upwards to meet his lips. His kiss was soft, his lips cool and hesitant, but the moment you let a little moan of pleasure escape you, he deepened the kiss. His long fingers scrunched in your hair and he closed his red eyes with a flutter of long lashes. His two forelegs rose up slightly for balance as his body rocked downwards and he pulled back with a gasp, chest heaving again. “I want you,” he whispered hoarsely, looking suddenly shy.

You grinned and stood. “I want you too…”

Gilvas led you through the house, pausing with endearing frequency to kiss you breathless against almost every spare surface that wasn’t covered by paintings or suits of armour or priceless vases on precarious pedestals, and finally he backed you up against the double doors to a bedroom on the fourth floor, and picked you up so that you had to latch your legs around his waist at the point where his humanoid torso met his spider’s body. You ground yourself against him as he kissed you over and over, his long hair falling around your face in a black and red curtain.

With one foreleg, he delicately pushed the handle down and nudged the doors open. Still holding you, he drew your top off over your head, discarding it to one side as he carried you across the room and deposited you onto a massive bed. It bounced and flexed beneath you, and as you looked around you discovered that it was not a bed, but a thick and intricately woven web slung between the two perpendicular walls of the far corner of the room. You leaned back into it, feeling the soft silken strands flex slightly beneath you, and looked up to see Gilvas’ silhouette in the darkness of the room.

The moon shone through an open window to your right, painting fine silver highlights to the gleaming lacquer of his carapace and needle-like legs, and in the moonlight, you saw that he was dripping webbing onto the floor from the gland at the tip of his spider’s abdomen. You knew enough about driders to know that when they got really aroused, they often leaked webbing like this. Male driders did not mate the way many other beings did, but that didn't put you off. You wanted him - his pleasure, his ecstasy, his noises, his joy…

It did make him suddenly nervous though, as if he’d only just realised that you might be expecting him to penetrate you, and with his anatomy, he couldn’t.

“Gilvas?” you asked, reaching up for him where he still loomed hesitantly above you. “Come here… let me take care of you…”

“I…” he began, but he let you draw him down onto the soft, smooth webbing. His legs ended in those dazzlingly sharp points, and he seemed to dance across the webs like a circus performer on a high wire. He lowered himself down atop you and you kissed him again. His hands skated over your hips and he drew the rest of your clothes off to abandon them beside his bed.

Seeking friction, he carefully slid his slick abdomen against your legs and shivered, moaning. “You’re so warm,” he whispered, head bowing forwards as he rested on his elbows, one on either side of your body. “I can’t believe how warm you are… it’s… it…”

“Does it feel good?” you asked, raking your fingers through his long hair and he nodded wordlessly. “Can you roll over?” you asked.

“Oh gods,” he gasped, clearly aroused by the idea, and nodded.

It wasn’t the most elegant manoeuvres, but once he was on his back with his legs curled upwards like a black, clawed hand, you sat in the gap where his one missing leg should have been, and ran your hand over the smoothness of his underbelly. In no time you discovered the slit in his lower body that was leaking slick, pearlescent fluid all over himself.

“Oh!” he yelled, spine curling and legs twitching as you traced your fingertips around the softer inner walls of the slit. Where the rest of his body was cool and hard, there he was almost searingly hot, the inner walls silky and slick. “Oh gods, oh gods… oh gods…” he chanted in time with your motions, his whole body twitching and making the webbing rock beneath him.

The tendons of his neck stood out in glorious contrast beneath the watercolour birthmark as he clenched his jaw and rammed his eyes shut, lost in the sensations. His fingers scrabbled at the web of his bed and he rocked and shivered and arched into your touch as you worked him closer and closer. You knew he was going to make a mess when he came, and you felt your whole body flush hot at the thought of finally getting him to let go of all his tight control and insecurities, to give himself over to the simple, honest pleasure you were offering to give him.

The thought of that was almost enough to make you come yourself, but you focused on him until he growled softly.

“I want…” he began but cut off as you grazed a spot inside him unexpectedly with a fingertip that made him bellow wordlessly. “Fuck…” he hissed when he’d recovered, head lolling back again, and you grinned at the curse on his aristocratic tongue. “Wait…” he panted. “I want… I want to touch you… before I… before you make me…” he growled again in frustration. “I’ll only be able to… to… come once… please… let me…” Hearing him lose control of his words like that in the face of his arousal only made it all the more endearing.

“You can touch me,” you said coyly without changing anything, but when he genuinely snarled, sounding more like a werewolf than a drider, you laughed and leaned closer to him.

His cool fingers dug into your arms as he tugged you tight against his body, pulling you down to lie atop him along the length of his belly and humanoid stomach, and you ground yourself against him for a little relief. His hand slid down your body, down your side, and before you could think, he was pleasuring you. “Let me,” he hissed when you tensed a little, revealing his venomous fangs as a flash of white in the dimness when you tried to pull back to finish him.

“But I wanted to make you come,” you pouted, and he actually laughed at that, four red eyes closing and crinkling softly in the corners with genuine amusement at your disgruntlement.

“Too bad,” he groused. “I want to watch you first.”

“Fair enough,” you grunted as he caught you just so and you rocked against him. “I’m so close…” and you really were. His touch was relentless, demanding your pleasure in return for the sensations you’d just given him.

“I know,” he snarled right in your ear, teeth - the non-venomous ones you hoped - just grazing the shell of your ear. “I can smell it on you.”

And with that, you came unexpectedly hard, crashing into your release and clinging to him. He eased you through it and when you lay panting and spent on his chest, he moved his hand to his mouth and cleaned himself luxuriantly, obviously enjoying the taste of you on his skin.

After that, he seemed softer and more relaxed, and when you’d recovered enough to get your legs back under you and return your attentions to his body, he finally seemed to have allowed himself this connection to another person. His body heaved and rocked rhythmically, his legs knocking nonchalantly against each other as he spasmed and moaned, and as he grew wetter and slicker around your hand, and his inner walls began to clench and shiver in a distinct cadence, you knew he was getting close. He was also giving you the most delicious sounds; gasping and cursing, grunting and even wailing softly at times when you slowed your touches to a barely-there whisper against him.

Eventually though, he began to rock against you in earnest, and you felt his release coming as a rapidly-building wave, gathering momentum until it finally ripped through him like a wildfire. White release gushed from his entrance and covered your hand, rolling down the sleek, shiny carapace to soak into the webbing while his body heaved and convulsed with pleasure. He made no sound, his face contorted in a rictus of pleasure as he gave everything he had to you, his hands gripping the webbing as he released in messy waves all over himself and you.

Finally as the pleasure faded to something gentler and less intense, he lay back, motionless on his bed, muscles completely slack, face soft, breathing quiet.

“Gilvas?”

“Mmm?” he hummed without moving.

“You alright?”

“Mmm.”

Weak and completely spent, he lay there unmoving for a long time while you gently trailed your fingers around his still clenching slit as aftershocks of pleasure rippled through him. Eventually, you wiped your hand clean on the webs beside him and shuffled up to lie beside him. He still looked absolutely exhausted and drained, and you sat there a long time just watching him.

After a very long time, he mustered the energy to open one arm to you and you nuzzled in against his bare shoulder. His breath hissed softly through his slack jaw and he pressed a shy kiss to the top of your head. “See why I wanted… to make you… to make you come first?” he whispered, words heavily slurred and indistinct.

You nodded and shifted to drape your arm across his chest and draw idle patterns over the bare skin of his white torso.

His skin was starkly pale in the moonlight, and as you stared at him, you realised he’d probably relied solely on touch for the whole time you’d been in the room. You smiled and pressed a kiss to his jutting collarbone, making him inhale sharply.

He was still too thin, still obviously not taking care of himself properly, but, you thought, if he’d trusted you and let you in to this extent, perhaps you could both take care of each other now.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he whispered after another long while of silence and closeness in the dark.

“Just thinking how good this feels,” you said honestly. “And how I could lie like this forever… Or at least… until you’re ready to go again.”

He snorted, taken off-guard. “Won’t be for a very long while,” he said bashfully. “Driders don’t recover quickly. Not the male ones, anyway.”

“I’m in no rush,” you said, laying your cheek back down on his cool skin and shivering as goosebumps rippled up your body.

He fumbled around on his other side and drew a large blanket up and over his body, careful to avoid the mess on his carapace, and let you snuggle up beneath it.

You’d have to wait for the dawn to go again though, because you were asleep in his arms in minutes.

___

Maybe we'll get to see more of them in the future, but for now, this four-part story is over. Thanks for your comments and enthusiasm for the cranky spooder boy!

___

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

#drider #exophilia #male drider #male drider x reader #drider x reader #monster boyfriend #drider boyfriend #male monster #gender neutral reader #female reader #(technically - although the reader in this part is gn)

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beinmybonnet · 4 years

Note

hmmm ok, joe/nicky "colour"

(classic seeing colour soulmates au BECAUSE ALL THE TROPES FEEL NEW WHEN YOU’VE GOT IMMORTALS)

- you see the world in black and white until the day you touch your soulmate. when they die, you lose the colour they brought to your life -

“Oh, that’s beautiful.”

Nile comes up on Joe’s right shoulder, mug of tea cupped between her palms.

“Thank you.” He shuffles over so she can sit beside him on the bench, moving aside his paints. She’s studying his work intently.

“The shades here are perfect,” she tells him, eyes darting between the painting and the view before them, “it’s like the shadows are lifting off the canvas. What colours have you used?”

Joe’s smile is wide, and he flips his paintbrush to gesture with the end. “Here, whites and greys for the houses at the bottom of the hill. Here,” he points the handle higher, “yellows with pink, and then some red here, just as the sun rose.”

“So, that would be orange right here? Pale though?” she points at the right splash of colour and Joe turns, brow lifting in surprise. “Art History with a focus on colour differentials,” she says proudly. “My professor said I had the best monochromatic eye he’d ever seen.”

Joe promptly slides the paints across the bench and picks his spare canvas up off the grass. “Join me?”

“Really?” Nile grins, bright and eager as he hands her a brush. She hovers over the paints for a moment, chewing her lip between her teeth. Her eyes rove determinedly over the unlabelled paints and the sky, before she plucks up a purple pot. Joe has to resist the urge to wrap his arm round her shoulders.

Back when Joe had first leaned to draw, colour had meant nothing to him. He’d had chalks and charcoals as a child and had lost hours to sweeping strokes across paving stones. He’d learned to differentiate between subtle shadows and muted tones, blending new greys between his fingertips to smudge over his clothing.

Black, white and the thousand shades between them were comfortable and sure. Colour was just, unnecessary. As he grew, he was gifted graphite and dark inks and a roll of rough parchment was always tucked against his hip. He could recreate everything his eye could see and his mind could form with the two fundamentals in his hands. All his most treasured early memories remain this way; his mother’s shining ebony hair, the smoky shade of her skin. The bright white of his father’s teeth as he spun her around in front of their home.

But there’s still no denying that colour changed everything. Colour that had come into his world with all the subtlety of the man at its source. Suddenly his life had burst into bold tints and fierce hues; endless possibilities for him to explore with paints and oils and pastels. Nine hundred years to experiment with the vibrancy of the world around him.

He and Nile reach for the blue together and smile.

Nicky’s got his eye pressed tight to his scope when everything fades.

He’s dialling left, settling his weight into his hips and then a curtain of heavy grey drops across his view. He rears back rubbing at his eyes, trying to force the colours back.

“Shit… just- Book, hold up!” Andy’s voice crackles out of the earpiece Nicky’s placed on the rooftop beside him. He scrambles to jam it back in.

“Andy-”

“Take the shot Nicky.” There’s shouting coming from below and Andy is swearing vehemently. “I’ve got him, just take the shot!”

He lurches back into position trying to clear his mind. It’s all wrong though, the shadows too dark and his depth perception is ruined -he’ll have to start all over. The dilution of his vision is making his heart thump erratically, and he has to count breaths in his head to keep himself still enough to reline up the shot.

Seconds later, the target steps out of the blackness and Nicky fires. The bullet cracks off the window frame, striking home at a cruel angle. He swears under his breath; it wasn’t clean, but he doesn’t care – the job’s done. He just needs to find Joe.

He takes the stairs at a speed that leaves his knees numb. At the extraction point, the van is already moving away as the door slides open. Nicky hurls his gear in and leaps after it. He gets the briefest glimpse of eyes too dark, and thick pewter stains across a torso before the door is slammed shut and he’s hauling Joe into his arms. They collide with a thump and Nicky quickly tucks his face against the grey skin of Joe’s neck with his eyes clenched shut. A hand burrows under the edge of his tactical gear until he feels the warmth at the small of his back.

Nicky pulls back to open his eyes and relief has him sagging further into the arms around him. Warm tawny skin shines against the dark khaki of Joe’s vest. He drags his mouth up the rich line of his throat, reluctant to break contact.

“Sorry.” Joe’s expression is chagrined when he lifts his head. “Got pinned down.”

There’s a smear of blood at the corner of Joe’s mouth, the newly crimson stain brash and mocking. Nicky rubs at it with a gloved thumb until the skin is clean and then presses his mouth gratefully to his favourite colour.

“A lilac ribbon in her hair. First colour I ever saw.”

The slight waver in his voice makes Nile wonder if she’s over-stepped again, if she’s put her foot in some unknown no-go zone and she opens her mouth to apologise. But Booker’s smiling, and that in itself is rare enough that Nile waits.

“It happened in a crowd. Must have been a hundred people in the square, easily…” his smile is widening. “God, it would have been so easy to have missed her. Soldiers were separating people, everyone was running and pushing and we just… brushed hands.”

Booker lifts his hand from his lap and turns it over slowly. “The back of her hand touched mine as she ran past. That was all.” He touches that spot, a glance of his finger. “I looked back, and her ribbon was lilac. But it was so busy, I lost sight of her in the rush.”

“But you found her again?” Nile has her head propped on her hands, trying not to sound too eager. Booker laughs gruffly.

“She found me. Came back for me.” He’s gripping his own hand tightly now, nails biting at the skin. “Lilac ribbon, hair like honey. Everything else came after that.”

“She sounds lovely.”

Booker looks up at her properly, and Nile’s acutely aware that whilst now they see the world in the same shades, it wasn’t always that way.

His voice is soft. “She was.”

Joe barely has time to shout before his world is plunged back into negatives, colour leaching from his vision. He’s scrambling, sliding in the pool of viscous grey he knows is blood as it spreads around Nicky’s skull.

He moves to cup Nicky’s face and can’t bear it. The sharp edge of his cheekbone throws dark shadows over his too pale face. Flecks and streaks of black over his skin; blood or dust or ash, Joe can’t tell anymore and the panic is rising in his throat. He can’t look at Nicky’s colourless eyes – he can’t- he’ll carry the sight with him too long.

He tears his head away, his own eyes clenched shut – but before he has time to pray, to plead, Nicky is gasping beneath him. The breath Joe releases is sticky and harsh, and he’s curling forward in his relief. Their hands collide quickly against each other’s forearms in an instinctive, accustomed clasp, and colours start seeping back immediately. The first to return are the shades of blue; bright aegean tones bursting in Nicky’s wide eyes, chased into existence by familiar notes of green. The weight lifts off Joe’s chest and for a moment he just breathes, air that tastes sweet and smooth as his other senses adjust to the disruption.

Then Nicky’s rolling. “Let’s go, Andy.”

They’re stood close enough to see the tremble in Andy’s arm as she reaches for Quynh’s face for the first time in over four hundred years.

Joe is frozen at his side, and Nicky’s breath is jammed somewhere in the base of his throat. He can’t believe this is actually happening.

Andy’s hand falters just shy of Quynh’s cheek with a ragged sound, fingers hovering. She opens her mouth to speak but Quynh reaches up and clamps the hand desperately to her face with her own. They shudder so violently Nicky wonders for a moment if the ground has physically quaked.

He knows the sensation well; that fierce swoop in the stomach. Like he’s stepped into free fall as the world saturates around him at Joe’s first touch. When they can reach each other quickly after a death, colour comes back in slow, precious increments; the shining browns of Joe’s eyes, or the dusky pink that rises in the shell of his ear. The longest they’ve gone after a death was four days. Four days in an east Indian jungle trapped in wet, translucent tones of black and white, the frustration building until he’d screamed at the sky. When he’d finally gotten his hands on Joe, grasping desperately at his bared shoulders, colour returning was an immediate detonation that had left his whole body throbbing for hours.

Nicky can’t even begin to imagine what Andy and Quynh feel in this moment.

They go down as one, limbs folding together as they collapse into the dirt. Clutching at each other as their worlds transform. Quynh has Andy’s face trapped between her own palms now and is sobbing, laughing, trying to pull her closer. Andy’s tears are silent, but steady. Her eyes flitting over Quynh’s face in awe while she runs trembling fingertips over rosy cheeks she can see.

Joe is squeezing his hand so tightly his fingers have gone numb, but the rush of joy in Nicky’s chest is golden and fierce. To stop himself moving forwards to pull Quynh into his own arms, he steps behind Joe and tugs him back, arms looping firmly around his middle.

“See? We are meant to find each other,” he whispers. Joe chuckles wetly against him.

On the ground, Quynh is smiling through her tears. “You’re beautiful Andromache,”

Andy hums hoarsely and runs her hands over Quynh’s arms, coming up to cradle her collar through the thick fabric of her coat. Her fingers rub at the material and Nicky knows the scarlet shade must be iridescent to her eyes. Andy lifts a thumb to Quynh’s lower lip.

“Red always was your colour.”

adriana i’m so sorry this took so long. i physically couldn’t stop it getting longer and longer and then i got really stuck and it was a whole mess.

#the old guard #the old guard fic #joe x nicky #andy x quynh #soulmates au #userkayla #usermarwan #usercacau #tuserceleste #userbones #userlyde #usershan #tusermj #idk what happened here #can't write 5 sentences like a normal person #mine #prompt

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mamabearcatfanfics · 3 years

Text

Battle Couple

I've had this little idea for a while, and then decided I could bend it slightly to fit this year's @inukag-week's first battle couple prompt. Because not all battles we face have to be huge ones against a deadly foe. Sometimes the battles can simply be standing up for what's right.

Inuyasha dragged the beanie down tighter over his head, stomping towards the exit of the store. He hated this. This is why he bought things online and had them delivered. Because then he could avoid interactions like he’d just had with that racist arsehole. He glanced down at the text from Sesshoumaru again, wondering if there was some other way he could get this gift for Rin. It was the first time his half-brother had thrown a birthday party for his adopted daughter, and no doubt it would be a big deal.

Rin has expressed an interest in this item. Her birthday party is on Saturday at 10am. Do not be late.

And of course the toy Rin had asked for was sold out everywhere online. The tiny dolls with light up dresses and a matching crystal necklace were apparently ‘the’ toy at the moment. She specifically wanted the purple one, the ‘hope’ doll, because it was her favourite colour, and she already had the other dolls in the set. This was the last one she needed. And he hadn’t been able to find it anywhere. He was failing as an Uncle. The last store he’d been to, he’d practically seen a pair of mothers come to blows arguing over the last CrystalShines doll on the shelf.

He was close to the exit of the store when an intriguing scent wafted past his nose. It was another store employee, dressed in the dark polo shirt and black jeans, with one of those ear walkie talkies they all seemed to wear. She was giggling, talking to someone using the button on her mike, her other arm full of a variety of women’s clothing that she was putting back on the racks. Her arms were a blur as she began sorting them into different sizes, working quickly to make each rack neat and tidy.

He watched as she flitted about the store, talking to a customer, smiling and waving at a baby in a pram, folding jumpers and t-shirts. His eyes were drawn to her dark ponytail; the way it swung as she moved was almost hypnotic. Her glossy hair was black, but had a blue sheen to it under the harsh fluorescent lighting, and he had a sudden urge to reach out and touch it, stroke down the length of the swinging tail to see if it was as soft and silken as it looked.

Without even realising it, he followed her, almost bumping into her as she suddenly spun around to go in a different direction.

“Oh! Good evening sir, can I help you with anything?”

There was a pleasant smile on her face, and she was looking at him expectantly. His voice didn’t seem to want to work now he was actually standing close to her, so he turned around his phone, showing her the picture of the doll.

“This is what you’re looking for?”

“Yeah”, he said softly, his eyes focused on hers as she glanced up at him again. He’d never seen anyone with grey eyes before. It seemed they were lit from within like starlight, and now that he was closer to her, she smelt even better. He cleared his throat, trying to get a hold of himself. “My niece wants one of these for her birthday, and I’m having trouble finding one.”

“Okay”, she said, reaching for the button on her headset to talk to the other employees on the shop floor. “Let me just talk to my colleague in the toy department, and I’ll see if we’ve got that item in stock.”

❤

Kagome watched as the man in front of her visibly deflated.

“Don’worry about it then. Already talked to ‘im.”

And then she got it. Ryan was working the toy department tonight. Ryan the racist bigot who didn’t like interacting with any customers who weren’t white, male, good ol’ boys, exactly like him. Usually he worked out the back in the store room, unpacking shipments, but due to the flu going around and the shortage of staff, the evening shift manager had put him on the floor tonight. And he’d no doubt said something innaproppriate to this gorgeous man in front of her, who obviously had some sort of youkai heritage.

She’d had her own run-ins with Ryan. He’d said many cruel things to her over the past six months, since he’d found out what happened a few years ago, cruel enough to make her run to the safety of the women’s toilets to shed a few silent tears in private. He never bullied her in a place where others could overhear, he always cornered her in dark places where there was no one else around. He frightened her. Jak knew she was uncomfortable around him, and did his best to make sure they were never rostered on at the same time, so it had been a while since she’d had to deal with him.

She took in the golden eyes, fangs and the beanie yanked down hard over his long silver hair, but it was the resigned bitter look on his face that caught at her heart. She knew that feeling. Internally Kagome fumed, but outwardly she hoisted her brightest smile onto her face, wanting to make it up to him. She could fix this!

“Wait. I don’t know the toy department that well, but I’m sure I could help. Just give me a moment to put these things down.”

He followed her to a wheeled rack in the aisle where she hung all the clothing in her arms back up, and then turned to him, smiling brightly again.

“Let’s go to the toy department and see if we can’t find this doll for your niece. When’s her birthday?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Oh dear, that doesn’t give you much time to find one!”

“I’ve been lookin’ all week. Online stores have sold out.”

“Well, hopefully we’ll have one in stock. Let’s see, the doll aisle is around here somewhere.”

They walked together down the aisle, both scanning the shelves for the tiny dolls.

“They should be around here”, said Kagome, her finger running along the price labelling on the edge of the shelf, her eyes lighting up as she found the right tag, but sighing in disappointment as she found the shelf empty.

“Yeah”, sighed Inuyasha. “I asked the guy around here if he could find out if there were any more out the back or somethin’ and he, ah…”

“Don’t worry”, said Kagome, a determined look on her face, “I will personally go take a look in the store room for you. Just wait here for me sir.”

“Inuyasha.”

“Huh?”

He coughed a little, his head turning to the side to avoid her direct gaze. “My name, it’s Inuyasha.”

“Oh. Right. Just wait here for me Inuyasha, and I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks Kagome.”

She blinked in confusion as he said her name, wondering how he’d known it, then realised he had read her name tag.

For some reason him saying her name out loud made her stomach swoop, like she was on a roller coaster, even though her feet were firmly planted on the ground. As he gave her a shy smile, she felt her cheeks begin to heat, and she whirled around, making a beeline for the storage room, talking into the mike on her headset as she left.

“Hey Jak, it’s Kagome – just going out to the store room for a moment for a customer. I’ll get right back on those returns as soon as I’m done, okay?”

“Oooh, tell me it’s the hottie with the white hair that I pointed out to you!”

“Jak!”

“Oh it is! Take your time honey!”

“You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“And you love me for it. Make sure you get his name and number before he goes!”

“Jak!”

“For the customer form darlin’, what else did you think I meant?”

She could hear him still sniggering as she released the talk button on her mike, and she shook her head, grinning despite herself. He was her in-line manager and they got on really well, but rarely got to spend time together, as he was usually rostered on during the day, and her in the evenings so her day was free for lectures and study.

Kagome squeezed her way into the storeroom, scanning the aisles of stock yet to be placed out on the shelves. And then she saw it, the edge of a box with a picture of a tiny doll up on the highest shelf.

Dragging over the step ladder, she placed it under the shelf and climbed up, her petite size meaning she had to stand on the very top to have any chance of reaching the box. She just managed to reach the doll with the tips of her fingers, and nudged it. It tipped forward and fell, and with a gasp she managed to catch it with her outstretched hand, teetering on the top of the ladder, her other arm windmilling frantically to keep her balance.

She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her frantically beating heart after her almost fall, the box containing the doll clutched tightly against her. But she’d found one for him, a purple one, just like he’d wanted. She had no idea why that made her feel so incredibly happy, but it did.

Grinning widely as she emerged from the storeroom, she began walking directly to the toy department. She could see Inuyasha there, waiting for her. But she could also see Ryan, his arms crossed as he spoke to him, a sneer on his face. She quickened her pace. Previous experience had taught her that expression couldn’t mean anything good.

❤

Inuyasha stood his ground, hands clenched in tight fists by his sides. He had every right to be here – he was a customer, he hadn’t caused any commotion or damage. Kagome had asked him to wait here. But apparently that wasn’t good enough for this guy.

“I told you already, we’ve got none of what your looking for. Nothing for you. Are you deaf, or just stupid?” The volume of his voice wasn’t loud enough to draw anyone’s attention to them, but definitely loud enough to get on Inuyasha’s nerves.

Inuyasha closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his hands shaking slightly as he held back. He would not punch out this idiot – this was a department store, not a battle ground. Even though he deserved it because he was a racist bigoted shit.

“I already told you to leave youkai! Do I have to call security?”

Inuyasha breathed out slowly, trying to keep any trace of anger out of his voice, even though he wanted to let rip. He’d found out the hard way that security tended to not ask questions, just see his youkai traits and assume the worst.

“And I already told you, another employee was taking a look out the back for me. She told me to wait here for her.”

“Yeah, like I’d believe anything one of you would have to say. You’re all the same. What are hidin’ under that hat huh? Some kinda weird freakish thing I’d bet. ”

“Inuyasha!”

Inuyasha turned, his eyes lighting up as Kagome appeared. But she wasn’t wearing the wide smile she had when she left. She was stomping towards them, a box tucked tightly under her arm, the scowl on her face impressive. Thankfully that scowl was not directed at him.

He could smell the nervousness pouring off of her, but you never would have thought it looking at the way she faced off with her work colleague, stepping in front of him like she wanted to shield him from this man's ire with her much smaller body.

“Ryan, I’m handling this customer. And I’ve already found what he needed, so there’s no reason for you to be here. I think you’ve probably said enough.”

There was the barest trace of a tremble in her voice, and Inuyasha moved in closer behind her, wanting her to feel like he was there to support her. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but he didn’t like it.

Ryan rolled his eyes and then sneered at her, his voice low and vicious.

“Ha. Shoulda known it would be you Kagome. Such a helpful little kiss ass. Why don’t you turn that cute little tush of yours around and head back to the ladies department where you belong, unless you’re still that desperate for some demon tail.”

“What?”

Ryan grinned at the shocked expression on Kagome’s face, posturing like he’d somehow scored a point. “Bit ironic really, you working in the ladies department when you’re anything but. A human ain't good enough for Kagome, huh? Wasn’t it bad enough that the last guy you had got fired, now you’re after customers too? You really are a-“

“Don’t. Say. Another. Word.”

Both Kagome and Ryan flinched at the snarled words behind them.

“Kagome, call your manager”, said Inuyasha gruffly. “I wanna report this guy.”

“It’s my word against yours demon, and little Kagome’s not gonna say anything, are you Kagome, because you’re fuckin’ pathetic. There’s nothin’ you can report me for”, snorted Ryan.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’d probably pick being a racist arsehole, for starters”, said another voice cheerfully. "Then maybe we could add workplace harassment."

A tall man in a tailored suit stepped into view, his dark hair slicked back into a short ponytail. He was holding his phone up, obviously still recording the whole thing.

“Here I was, minding my own business in the Lego aisle while I looked for the perfect birthday gift for my little girls, and what should I hear? An employee bad mouthing a customer, when the customer had been nothing but polite and civil. Don’t worry about proof, I’m happy to be a witness. I was recording the whole thing. From the very first racist slur that left your lips.”

Kagome’s eyes were wide as she glanced from the ponytailed man back to Ryan, and Inuyasha could hear her heart beating frantically. He nodded at her approvingly as she took a deep breath, her hand steady on the button on her headset.

“Jak, it’s Kagome”, she said, her voice a little breathless, but firm. “Can you-“

Ryan lunged towards her.

“Don’t you dare, you fuckin’ bitch!”

Inuyasha ducked out from behind Kagome, his fist grabbing the back of Ryan’s shirt and lifting him into the air, Ryan’s legs kicking frantically as he tried to escape. Before Kagome could move out of the way, his steel capped boot caught her on the chin. She dropped like a stone, crumpling to the floor in a heap.

“Fuck, Kagome!”

Inuyasha swung Ryan out of the way and dropped him none too gently, all his focus on the small woman laying prone on the slightly grubby linoleum floor, still out for the count. He could hear a scuffle behind him as the man in the suit and a few other observers struggled to keep Ryan contained, but he no longer cared about him. He knelt down close to her, gently stroking the glossy dark hair back from her face.

“Kagome, can you hear me?”

Inuyasha shook Kagome’s shoulder gently, trying to rouse her, and her eyes fluttered open.

“Inuyasha?” she said groggily, her arm tightening around the box, a wobbly smile on her face. “I got your doll.”

❤

It took a while to sort everything out. An ambulance was called, and the police. The police took statements from Inuyasha, Kagome and the man in the suit, Miroku. Ryan was fired on the spot, and Jak was positively gleeful, despite the mountain of paperwork he’d have to fill out before he went home that evening. When the paramedic suggested that Kagome should go to the hospital to be checked for possible concussion, Inuyasha had immediately said he’d like to go with her, if that was alright with Kagome, and after a few polite remarks about it not being necessary, she’d gratefully accepted. Jak had positively pushed them into the ambulance together, waving them off with a bright smile. It was the most exciting evening shift he’d had in years.

❤

“You don’t have to stay you know. I’ll be fine, I’ll just get an Uber home.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall, his arm resting on the edge of Kagome's hospital bed.

“For the tenth time woman, I don’t mind. I want to be here when the doctor examines you to make sure you’re okay. And then I wanna make sure you get home safe.” He sighed as he looked at the dark purpling bruise on Kagome’s chin. “I’m just sorry I didn’t throw that fucker down to the end of the aisle when I had the chance.”

“But it’s so late! It’s almost 2am, and you have the party to go to tomorrow. Today I mean.”

“Eh, that’s hours away. She won’t mind if I’m a little late, Rin’s a nice kid. And now I have the perfect present, thanks to you.”

Kagome was quiet for a while. The silence grew to feel uncomfortable, because Inuyasha could sense how tense Kagome suddenly was.

“Inuyasha… I want to explain. About what Ryan said to me.”

“Hmm?” He could smell nervousness again, billowing around her like a cloud, and he didn’t like it. “Doesn’t matter, none of my business.”

“But I want to”, she said, her voice taking on a stubborn edge.

“Fine, I’ll listen. But nothin’ you can say will change my good opinion of you. You stepped up for me back there Kagome, and that don’t happen for me much. I will always remember that.”

Kagome reached out her hand to lightly grasp the clawed one sitting next to her on the bed, and squeezed it.

“Thank you.”

He squeezed back.

“You’re welcome.”

“Anyway”, she sighed. “About what Ryan said. I started working at that department store when I was still in high school, as a weekend job. And there was this training manager, a kitsune. He’d come around every so often, and all the girls thought he was really good looking. He had a little green sports car; a lot of the other girls thought was really important. They all were flirting with him, and then he asked me out. I was so surprised. I mean, me! I’m nothing special! He was so stylish, and so charming. I really thought…” Kagome laughed but it had no humour in it, and Inuyasha squeezed her hand again. She shrugged, her shoulders coming up around her ears as her face turned away from him.

“I was so stupid! It turned out I was right about being nothing special, because he was going out with a couple of girls at every store that he visited.” She flinched a little at Inuyasha’s low growl of disapproval. “There were around ten of us. And because a couple of us were under aged, he was charged. Lost his job. Ryan found out about it a few months ago and thought-“

“Don’t say it”, said Inuyasha gruffly, squeezing her hand again. “Don’t matter what he thought. It’s in the past. And the Kagome I saw tonight was amazing.”

“No I wasn’t!” Kagome shook her head, then winced as her head throbbed, realising that was a bad idea. “I was so scared Inuyasha! I’ve never been able to stand up to him before. But I couldn’t stand the thought of him being mean to you!”

“Then you’re even braver than I thought.” Inuyasha entwined his fingers with hers, and cleared his throat. “Kagome, I know you don’t know me. But I think I’d like to get to know you. Could I call you? Maybe we could go out for coffee or somethin’? I mean you don’t gotta answer, and if you don’t wanna, I totally understand, I mean-“

“Yes.” Kagome giggled at the wide toothy grin on Inuyasha’s face. “Give me your phone and I’ll put my number in.”

“Wait. Maybe you should see what all’a me looks like before you say yes.”

Inuyasha tugged off his beanie, revealing the pointed white dog ears on top of his head. “If you wanna change your mind, I-“

“They’re so cute!” squeaked Kagome. “Please give me your phone!”

❤

Kagome woke up the next morning very late, so late that it was no longer morning at all.

It had been 3am by the time Inuyasha had dropped her home with a bag of painkillers and the Doctor’s instructions for treating her mild concussion. He’d helped her into bed, placed her medicine and a glass of water next to the bed for her, kissed her softly on the cheek and whispered goodnight, closing the door behind him.

She rubbed her cheek gently at the memory of that small kiss, a smile on her face. She still had a headache, so she took two of the tablets, then reached for her phone on the bedside table where it had been charging.

There were two messages.

The birthday girl loves her present! Attached was a picture of a smiling Inuyasha kneeling with his arm around a little girl in a checked orange party dress and sparkly sandals, her dark hair up in pig tails. A wide excited grin split her face, revealing the gap of a missing front tooth. The doll was clutched tightly in her hand, and she was wearing the necklace that came with it.

I told Rin how brave you were, and she wanted you to have some birthday cake. Can I bring some over when you wake up? 🍰

Kagome smiled almost as wide as Rin, despite her headache.

I’d love you to ❤

#inukag week #inukag week 2021 #battle couple #all the fluff #it's now 3am and I'm a tired tired Mama Bear #but at least I got one prompt in on time

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some-kindofgnome · 4 years

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Kinktober #2: One Heck of a Twist: Mirio Togata

In which Mirio experiences two new things in the same night.

Characters: Mirio Togata x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!), aged up characters, oral sex (f-receiving), strong language, mirio being an absolute ray of sunshine, spoilers for The Empire Strikes Back

Notes: Congratulations! You survived day one! Welcome to day two of Kinktober 2020. Allow me to introduce you to my absolute favourite character to write. Seriously. Count how many times his name appears on my Kinktober masterlist. It’s a problem. Both characters are adults, even if they’re schmucks.

Today’s prompt is ‘Eating Out.’ Bon appetit!

“I can’t believe you never knew that Darth Vader is Luke Skywalker’s father!”

Your exclamation is almost loud enough to draw looks from the rest of the crowd as you filter out of the movie theatre into the damp evening. The city’s glazed by a sheen of rainfall, but it’s as fine as mist and the chill is welcome against your theatre-warmed cheeks.

After finding out that Mirio had never seen Star Wars, you took it upon yourself to show him the original. And when he liked it, you found an independent theatre downtown showing a rerun of The Empire Strikes Back and made a date of it.

“How could I have?” He defends, grabbing your hand so you know he’s keeping it playful. “I’ve never seen it before.”

His hand is as warm and strong as ever, and you feel as safe holding onto it as you might if you were wrapped in his arms.

“Even so,” you continue, “that’s, like… the most common piece of movie trivia knowledge on the planet. How long have you been on this Earth for? And how long has Star Wars been on this Earth for?”

“Well, I know now,” he chuckles, tugging you a little closer by the hand as your shoulders bump. “And it was one heck of a twist.”

This whole holding-hands-in-public thing is kind of new to you, and you’re not quite past the butterflies stage. Then again, you’re pretty sure you’re never going to get past the butterflies stage with Mirio. He’s warm and masculine, funny and charming, but so kind it hurts sometimes. You’ve already been dating a couple of months and he still manages to surprise you all the time.

Take tonight, for instance.

“You must be the king of avoiding spoilers,” you tease, nudging his shoulder with yours again and feeling warm and fulfilled when your bodies connect.

You chat quietly the rest of the way home, walking close to ward off frost in the early fall darkness. For a romance that blossomed in the heat of midsummer, the two of you are weathering the changing seasons smoothly. Then again, you’re pretty sure nothing could ruin him for you at this point.

Silence settles coyly between you as the door of your apartment building draws closer. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d spent the night, but it was the first time you’d actually planned it in advance. The rush of nerves you first got when he showed up with an overnight bag is as fresh as ever, and by the time you get your keys out there’s heat creeping down your neck.

He stops you on the landing with a hand on your arm.

“Hey,” he rumbles, and when you turn back to him he’s standing a couple of steps down from you. He tugs you gently toward the edge of the landing and kisses you so soft it makes your toes curl. These days, every kiss feels like the first one all over again and you let your palms rest against his chest, falling into him.

“Let’s go inside,” you whisper once you’ve pulled away, pushing your forehead forward against his. You can feel the way his chest rumbles with his chuckle and you grin, push off his chest and grab his arm. You make it up the second flight of stairs in record time and he slips his arms around you from behind as you fish for the right key.

He changes gears seamlessly- shifting from sparkling eyes and sunny chuckles to pushing you inside and easily against the nearest wall, kicking the door shut and towering over you.

You ask yourself who the hell you were in your past life to earn this.

“I wanna try something with you,” he mumbles as he draws his nose tenderly up the side of your neck- just a little chilled against your warm skin. You shiver, hard, and you’re pretty sure you would agree to anything right about now.

“Okay,” you answer dumbly.

He responds in kind, slipping his hands under your denim-clad thighs and picking you up effortlessly- so fucking strong. You reward him by cupping his cheeks and kissing him silly while he feels his way into your bedroom, toppling forward onto the bed with you and caging you in until you force your mouth from his, breathless and gasping.

“First things first,” he says, drawing back. He unlaces your boots and lovingly pulls them off, taking your socks with him. He toes out of his own shoes and then he’s on top of you again. His weight and warmth is a world of its own, all-encompassing and complete.

His shadow passes over you, but instead of your lips he goes for your neck, sliding one knee between your thighs as he lets his mouth wander.

He’s already pushing you out of your jacket and nudging the neckline of your sweater down with his chin to nibble at your collar bone. You whimper, shoving your hands into the folds of his coat and wedging it off his shoulders, and he rears back in kind to shrug it off.

Mirio slips his hand up the side of your thigh, fingers just brushing your waistband. He hesitates for a minute, then pulls away again with a bashful expression in the dim light.

“My hands are pretty cold,” he admits. He blows sheepishly into his palms and rubs them back and forth a few times, then presses one to the crook of his neck. He bites his lip, thinking, then he’s on you again.

“Much better,” he purrs, and this time he’s not shy about sliding his fingers under your sweater, dancing them up your ribcage and selfishly thumbing the side of your bra. He uses his elbow to push the hem of your sweater up a little and his face finds home in your neck again.

“Can I?” He mumbles and you melt all over again.

“Go ahead.”

Your sweater comes off in a swath of cotton-blend, and he’s still wearing a t-shirt but you can feel the warmth of his body as he gathers you back into his arms. You’re so in love. So in love. So in love. It’s becoming a real problem.

“You’re so pretty,” he groans, and you giggle, slotting your hips as casually as you can against his. His body stutters against yours and his next breath comes out shaky.

Incredible.

“You said you wanted to try something,” you mumble. He’s holding you so close that your lips brush his hair as you speak, and you nuzzle a little deeper into the blonde mess. Happy to muss its perfect style.

“Right.” He jumps and pulls back, bracing himself on one arm to look down at you with the moon in his eyes. He grins, wolfishly, and suddenly your nerves are spiking again.

“Lemme go down on you.”

Your chest lurches. Hard. For a solid few seconds you don’t say anything, circulating the words inside your head to make sure they mean what you think they mean.

You hear the quiet echo of your name fall from his lips, and when your gaze re-focuses he’s peering down at you with such concern that you wonder if you’ve done something wrong.

“I… uh. Really?”

He laughs. Your cheeks go hot.

“Yeah, really.” He peeks up at you through heavy lids and if you weren’t already horizontal you might have swooned. “Been thinking about it a lot.”

“Okay.” You’ve gone dumb with shock, but he’s picking up the slack, kissing across your cheekbone and digging his thumb into the waistband of your jeans. He flicks the button open smoothly and drags down the fly. You plant your feet and he wiggles them off, grabbing the strap of your black underwear and tugging that down, too.

“Oh-kay,” you sigh again, fumbling with the clasp of your bra as he gets on his belly and slides his hands under your thighs. You push that last garment away and then you’re bare and his breath is there and it sends goosebumps racing straight up your arms and spine.

“God, you’re even prettier down here.” There’s no scrap of innocent charm left in his voice anymore. It’s all raspy baritones and husked little quips from here on out. He hooks one thigh over an elbow, dragging his fingertips over your hip before circling a thumb against your clit. It’s not much, but you’re drowning in him. You were ready to go by the time he got your jacket off.

“F-uck,” you stutter and your upper body gives out, your shoulders and head diving into the pillows behind you. He lowers his head and noses playfully at your thigh. You feel him smiling against you. Then he turns his gaze and just looks at you.

“Lemme taste you, princess.”

Then he licks.

“God,” you sigh, and where he was smiling against your thigh before, you feel him smile against your slit. He does it again, only this time he groans into you- letting the sound vibrate through his chest and all the way down to the tips of your toes. Your back arches clean off the bed and your thighs twitch. He digs his fingers into them, keeping you still.

“Keep going,” you urge, just in case he wasn’t abundantly sure that you were enjoying this, and he takes the note in stride. He settles into an eager rhythm, drawing his tongue up your slit a few more times before his tongue settles over your clit. If it was tender before it’s electric now, the easy flicks and swipes making you dig your feet into the mattress and slide your fingers into his hair.

Both hands comb through the gelled strands as you bite your lip hard and try to figure out what you’re going to do with all this pleasure. Your hips buck smoothly into his face as he keeps a steady pace, and your eyes are screwed shut but you know he’s watching.

His tongue swipes the right spot at the right time and your breathy little sighs shift from heady and high to guttural and clear, and there’s no way you’re holding back when it turns out he’s pretty fucking good at this.

“O-ohgod – there!”

You feel him pause for a heartbeat, but he’s quickly refocusing, repositioning to take the same angle as before. And where he swiped once he’s suddenly laving again and again, and his arms tighten around your thighs and it’s going to be tight but you’re getting there.

“More,” you plead. “Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum. Right there. There, there, there, y-“

You babble, but as soon as it hits you the sound dies in your throat. Your climax tips over like spilled wine and everything goes white while waves of pleasure wash over you. You’re pretty sure you’re grabbing his hair and pulling hard, but he doesn’t seem to mind, gathering you in his arms and holding you tight, licking you over and over until you’re squirming underneath him, pushing his head away with a whimper.

Your eyes shift open. The clouds part. He sits up slowly, licking his lips as he eases into your field of view. There are waves of absolute bliss lapping at your extremities and you do not miss the way he swipes the back of his hand across his mouth, sending a fresh throb of arousal straight through your spent body.

“So?”

He breaks the silence as he settles onto his side beside you, resting a hand on the column of your belly.

“So?” You laugh loosely. “When were you gonna tell me that your mouth’s good for more than just talking?”

He’s laughing again and nuzzling you, so loving and tender you might almost forget how thoroughly he just rocked your world.

“I thought it’d be better to show you.”

You turn your head and kiss him. He groans- you’re not shy about tasting yourself- and you roll over, dragging your palm down the front of his shirt. He’s a confident shit when you’re putty in his hands, but irresistibly adorable as soon as the ball’s in your court. You can’t wait.

“In that case,” you growl between kisses, “I think it’s my turn to show you something.”

#my hero academia #mirio x reader #kinktober #jbbKinktober2020 #mirio togata #kinktober 2020 #mirio togata x reader #mirio fanfiction #mirio x you #gnomewrites

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