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late night talking 2

here is the long awaited part two to late night talking (aka cam girl!yn and nerdrry)!!!! I v much hope you guys like this part as much as you liked the first :)))) enjoy!

read part one here

word count: 7.5k

content warnings: smut (oral - f receiving, fingering, dirty talk, riding, mentions of squirting, size kink, daddy kink, mentions of sex toys and bondage, minor edging)

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masterlist | talk to me

. . .

If Harry were to describe the joy he feels when listening to Y/N discuss her day with him over the phone, he's sure he would never shut up.

At first, he'd been nervous about what they would talk about. Did she expect them to have dirty, filth-filled conversations? What if she charged him for it? Harry would undoubtedly shell out the money, too embarrassed to explain he had different expectations, but it's not what he wanted — not by a long-shot.

Admittedly, the first five or 10 minutes had been rocky. After chatting exclusively through direct messaging on Y/N's cam site, it was a little difficult to get used to transferring those conversations to the phone. She was used to relying on witty jokes with emojis, he was accustomed to having more time to thoughtfully write out responses. Talking one-on-one limited both of those things, ridding them of their comfort blankets. But once the ice melted, names were exchanged, and Y/N's breathy giggle sounded through the receiver, Harry was a goner.

"Wait, so how is it that we live in the same city?" Harry questions as he pulls at a loose thread on one of the throw pillows on his couch. "The odds of that are like... slim to none."

"Well, you'd know, you have a degree in computer science," Y/N replies teasingly. "I'm pretty sure the homepage tries to cater to your location. It's kind of weird and freaky if you think about it for too long."

"That's... kind of horrifying."

She hums, "I know. But if I hide my feed from the homepage, I'd have to solely rely on my regulars."

Harry doesn't want to be a dick so he doesn't say anything in response, but he wishes she could. He despises the fact that there are local creeps watching her every night, even if that includes him. Quickly, he tries to shove down his possessive nature, knowing he doesn't quite have anything to be jealous of — she's her own person.

"Don't worry, I have a baseball bat by the door." she jokes, but it doesn't land the way she intends. Her mouth twists into a wince when Harry remains silent on the other side.

"Just want you to be safe, hm?" he says gently, "I know you can take care of yourself, but... you know what I mean, don't you?"

"Are you trying to say that you care about me?"

He huffs, a surprised puff of air leaving his lungs.

"Yes," he finally forces out, anxiety beginning to claw at his insides, "Of course I do."

A beat. The nerves have grown nasty fangs and nails, but then—

"I care about you, too."

Harry has to squeeze the pillow so a girlish squeak doesn't escape his mouth.

. . .

From: Y/N🎀

my boss made me stay late today so I don't think ill make it home for our 6 pm phone call :( can I call you later?

Harry tries not to pout as his eyes scan over Y/N's text for a second time. Ever since their initial phone call a few weeks ago, they unintentionally set up a daily schedule where they'd chat as soon as she got home from work. Usually, they spoke up until she started her stream, but she took Fridays off since there weren't as many people logging on to watch. All day, he had been looking forward to getting her for a few hours without any interruptions.

(She often keeps him on the phone as she eats dinner or picks out a lacy set of lingerie. The latter makes him feel special, like he has some sort of behind-the-scenes look of what happens prior to her logging on. It also happens to thicken up his cock a fair amount.)

To: Y/N🎀

I'm sorry he's doing that to you on a Friday. You're right, he's a dick.

Call me whenever you're able. I'll be around.

In an ideal world, maybe Harry could pick them up some dinner and he could meet her at the office, so she could eat while she finished work. Or, he could even take her out to a nice restaurant after — but beyond the very obvious restrictions of their relationship (or maybe it was just a friendship with virtual benefits?), Harry was deeply insecure. They were both lonely people, he knew, and they were simply reaping the benefits until someone better came along for her.

His phone buzzes, ripping him from his self-deprecating thoughts: thank you<3 you're the sweetest, staying in on a friday just so you can talk to little old me!!! x

A snort leaves him. He can't remember the last time he had actual social plans that involved leaving the house on the weekend. Friday nights were almost always reserved for playing video games with his friends, baking a new recipe he found on Pinterest, or, that one time where he tried to teach himself how to knit a little sweater for Beatrice.

(It went terribly and Beatrice ended up having more fun with the ball of yarn anyway.)

The thing is, Harry knows he's a nerd. He's pretty much the picture of a dorky, grown-up introvert, with his thick-rimmed glasses, computer engineering job, cat, and pathetically lonely social life. How on earth could Y/N not see that?

(Maybe she does, and she's just taking advantage of him. He doesn't foresee that being a possibility, but his anxious insecurities take him there every now and then.)

He spends his time moseying around his apartment while he waits for her to get home. By the time he's done baking espresso brownies and tidying up the kitchen, making sure to place the tray high enough so Beatrice can't get into them, he hears his phone vibrating on the countertop. A jolt of energy and happiness zips through him when he sees her name splayed across his screen, immediately pressing answer and putting her on speaker.

"Hiiii," she sings into the receiver, and he can already tell she's traipsing around her own home, "You picked up fast."

"Told you I'd be around whenever you wanted to talk."

"You're too good to me," she says, though he has to lower the phone the second he hears noisy crunching on the other line, "Sorry, I literally just got in. I'm eating Cheetos for dinner."

"I thought you were gonna order in from that new stir fry place," Harry replies, thinking back to her mulling over the idea last night.

"I was, but then I had to work until 7 pm, which meant I didn't get home until... what time is it? Oh, it's already 8:15! There goes my entire Friday night!"

He smiles gently at her dramatics, though he understands. "You can still order, babe. They don't close until 10."

"But I just opened this bag of Cheetos."

He resists the urge to roll his eyes. "You can use one of those handy clips to close it so they don't go stale."

"I don't have any of those."

Harry shakes his head as his eyes scan over the small bowl of them on his kitchen countertop.

"Put the Cheetos down, Y/N. Order the stir fry. You deserve it."

A sigh passes through her lips. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. You had the longest week and you just had to work after hours on a Friday."

"Alright, fine."

He hears the light tapping of her fingers against the phone screen, which only leads him to believe that she's actually doing what he's requested of her for once. He busies himself with cozying up on the couch, throwing a blanket over his lap as Beatrice jumps up onto the cushion next to him.

"Okay, done," she says a few moments later. "So, speaking of deserving things. I got you something."

"You got me something?" Harry asks with furrowed brows.

"Mhmm. I saw it online and wanted you to have it— well, it's for both of us, actually, but that's besides the fact. Anyway, I need your address so I can send it to you."

Harry's brain begins to glow with possibilities, completely unsure of what she could possibly have gotten him.

"Is this just an excuse to stalk me?" he jokes, making her snort.

"No, Harry. Send me your address, please. It's a present."

He quickly removes the phone from his ear, pressing the speaker button and opening up their text thread.

"Fine, I'm sending it to you now," he murmurs, typing out his address, "But it better not be something weird."

Y/N snorts and for a moment, it's quiet. Harry's used to silent lulls in their conversations, especially because they'll sometimes be on the phone together for hours. He occupies himself with gently petting Beatrice's coat, making a mental note to brush her orange fur out after they hang up tonight.

"Harry?"

Y/N's voice rings softly through the receiver. Focused on scratching the top of Beatrice's head, he lets out a distracted hum, assuming she's just making sure he's still there.

"We live 10 minutes from each other."

It takes him a moment to digest what she's just told him. At first, he thinks it's a joke. There's no way the girl he's been watching every night for the past few months lives so close to him. But when she doesn't follow it up with a "just kidding!", he realizes she may be telling the truth.

"What?" he finally chokes out, his posture straightening slightly. Could they have run into each other without evening noticing it? Passing by one another on a busy street, Y/N walking home from work while Harry stops at the grocery store?

"Yeah," she breathes out in disbelief, "You live on Beekman, right? I'm three streets over."

"This is insane," he blurts out. "You're not messing with me?"

"I wouldn't do that."

Harry's unsure if the conversation has taken a turn of shock or tension. There's an obvious question lingering between them, but he's too scared to bring it up. He's too scared to even think about it.

Meeting in person... it seemed like something they'd never get close to doing. Harry was never positive about where their dynamic would lead, but in the back of his head, he did fret about the lack of endgame. He assumed she would get bored of him one day — why wouldn't she, when she's this gorgeous, fun, care-free person, and he's the complete opposite?

"Are you okay?"

Her question rips him from his cycling thoughts. Beatrice climbs into his lap, absorbing the anxiety radiating from his chest. He clears his throat.

"Yeah. Sorry. I'm just... that's crazy."

"It is," she agrees. "I guess... well, if you're comfortable with it, maybe I could bring you your gift sometime. Instead of mailing it."

Harry and Y/N both know that this discussion is no longer about whatever thing she bought with him in mind. It's a proposal — a leap of faith that she's leaving in Harry's court, allowing him to call the shots. It's a terrifying place to be.

"Would you want that?" he asks breathily, nibbling on his bottom lip.

"I would," she replies almost instantly. "But only if you want that."

She's making the jump, and she's doing it whether he's ballsy enough or not. If he says no, she'll continue living her life as the happy-go-lucky person she is. It's scary — it's so, so scary for him, because for once, he doesn't know how things will end up. He can't calculate the answer. He can't premeditate or plan it out.

But maybe she's worth it. So he jumps, too.

"Are you free tomorrow?"

. . .

Y/N thinks she may throw up.

She's contemplated every excuse to get out of tonight — not because she doesn't want to meet Harry, but because she's never, ever done this before. It's entirely out of her comfort zone, understandably. Was she being insane, meeting up with one of her subscribers? She doesn't think Harry gives off serial killer vibes, and he's more than just someone subscribed to her stream, but was it possible that he would put in months of work, talking to her on the phone every day and listening to her chatter on and on about her day, just to do something awful?

What if he expected... more? From her, not just physically, but as a person, too. They still haven't revealed their faces to one another, so she knows tonight is bound to be a lot. Which brings her back to her previous point: Was there an excuse she could blurt out to cancel?

She thinks about it all day, barely getting any work done. Though she and Harry typically exchange far more texts during the day, the tension and nervousness between them both is apparent. He messaged her good morning and they spoke a bit when she got to work, but neither of them seemed as talkative as usual.

Finally, when it's time to head home, she's somewhat relying on Sam to ask her to stay back and work later — but of course, the one day that she wants him to, he left early, calling an end to his day hours ago. With a grumble, Y/N begins the short trek back to her place.

Last night, when she was apparently much higher on courage, she and Harry had decided that 7 would be a good time to meet up. He offered to go to hers if it made it more comfortable, or even getting dinner or something in public. Y/N appreciated it, but she didn't find it necessary — she wanted to be able to leave at a moment's notice if she needed to, plus, on the bright side, she really wanted to meet his cat, Beatrice.

When she gets home, she has 30 minutes before she has to be over at his. She decides to change her outfit, nitpicking at her wardrobe and figuring out what's the best way to say, "I've really enjoyed our virtual conversations over the past few months and I have a crush on you, but maybe not because we've never met before. Also, if you could just forget how we *technically* met so we could attempt to have a real shot at a relationship, maybe, that could be cool."

Sighing, she lays back against her bed. This is crazy, right?

This has to be crazy.

. . .

Harry thinks he may have lost any and all inklings of sanity.

"Beatrice, is this crazy?" he wonders aloud to his snuggly cat. She's currently tucked into her favorite corner of the couch, nuzzling the pink sherpa blanket his mom bought him for Christmas last year.

He logged off from work an hour early today to give him some time to clean up his apartment, wanting to make sure it was spotless for Y/N. They halfway decided that they'd eat dinner together, but he wasn't sure if she had any dietary preferences or allergies, so he figured getting take-out from the local Chinese place they both like would be the best option. (How awful would that be, if he tried to cook her a romantic meal and instead gave her an allergic reaction? Harry shudders at the mere thought of it.)

He spends far too long standing in front of his closet with a sleepy Beatrice in his arms, trying to figure out the best outfit to wear. Typically, he's in a pair of sweats or athletic shorts at this time, but that felt too casual.

"What about these?" he asks Beatrice, grabbing a pair of his favorite mustard yellow trousers. "You're right, they're too much. We want to appear cool. Right?"

She simply meows in response.

He hands are shaking when his phone dings, signifying an incoming text from Y/N: on my way!! see you soon :). He lets out a nervous yelp, pulling at his hair as he throws himself into his closet. Based on what she told him last night about living close by, she'll be here in around 10 minutes, so he settles on a cozy sweatshirt and a pair of loose fitting jeans.

That'll be fine, right?

God, he needs to find someone else to talk to besides himself and his cat.

He's pulling on a pair of his favorite wool socks, haphazardly jogging between the bathroom and his room to finish getting ready. He applies an extra coat of deodorant (just in case!), spritzes on some cologne (his sister got it for him a few years back, she said it seemed like 'his scent', whatever that meant), and runs a hand through his messy curls, trying to make his hair look sort of styled. To this day, he's not really sure how to style it, instead just letting it air dry every time he showers.

His eye catches the time as he traipses back downstairs. It's 6:58. He wonders if she'll be early or late. What if she doesn't come at all? What if she just decides to stand him up, because... because this is insane. This is insane behavior.

And then... his phone dings.

here i think!! sorry im really bad w directions and I walked here lol

. . .

Every single part of her anxious brain is telling Y/N to turn around and go back home. This a terrible idea, she frets, picking at her nails and swallowing tightly, Turn around. Turn around, turn around, turn around—

"Y/N?"

Her head snaps up. In complete honesty, she assumed she was standing in front of the wrong townhouse — she really is bad with directions, so she's slightly shocked when the door in front of her opens, revealing a very attractive man.

"Harry...?" Y/N asks, testing out the way it feels to call him his name in person. With a slightly bashful facial expression, he nods.

"Do you— did you want to come in?"

She nods, suddenly feeling how cold the evening is. The later hour brought a chill to the air, one that feels like it has a promise of snow. She hopes she's wrong since she really doesn't want to walk home in freezing temperatures, but thoughts of the weather are ripped from her mind the second Harry politely guides her in.

She toes her boots off at the entryway, gently placing them next to his own pair of Adidas sneakers. She can feel him behind her, only because the front hall is too small for someone to pass by — but if she's being honest, she doesn't think she minds his hovering warmth. All she wants to do is turn around and analyze him.

She doesn't know what to do — she's being awkward, they both are — so she turns around, not wanting to just welcome herself into his home.

It turns out, he's far closer than she had originally anticipated. Nearly bumping into his chest, she gasps in surprise, lifting a hand to her heart like she's an actress in a bad scary movie. It makes Harry chuckle breathily, melting the ice ever so slightly.

"You alright?" he asks, "Sorry, it's a bit small in here. It's just me and Beatrice, so I don't need much room."

"Beatrice!" Y/N remembers with wide eyes. "Where is she?"

Harry hums, taking the opportunity to brush past Y/N. She swallows, inhaling his spicy vanilla scent in his wake. It sends an involuntary shiver down her spine as she follows him to the living room.

"Here she is," he coos, scooping her up from the floor and into his arms. Y/N's heart warms at the sight of a tall, attractive man holding a sweet kitten. "She's been very lethargic all day. Think she likes the winter just 'cos she gets more snuggles out of it."

"'s cute," she mumbles, biting her lip. Her eyes flicker to Harry's face. She seems to be more enamored by his appearance than hers. She wasn't expecting him by any means to fall to his knees and praise her for her beauty, and supposes it makes sense considering he's seen far more of her than she's seen of him. She's somewhat lost in those thoughts when she accidentally blurts the words out, her eyes going wide:

"You're cute."

Harry glances up, his cheeks glowing a pink hue almost immediately. "Sorry?"

Well, can't back down now, she thinks to herself. Swallowing, she forces her mouth to form around the words again. "You're cute," she repeats. "Sorry. That just kind of came out. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, this is just.... y'know, the first time I'm seeing you."

He clears his throat and bites his bottom lip, almost as if he's trying to hide a smile creeping at the edges of his lips.

"I think you're beautiful," he says softly, and the compliment makes her heart glow in her chest, "I didn't want to mention anything about appearances, 'cos I know maybe you were expecting someone different, but—"

"What do you mean?" she asks with furrowed brows. "I didn't have any expectations."

"Well, that's good. I guess I just wasn't sure if you were anticipating someone... else."

It takes a second for the words to click in her brain. Then, with a wrinkle between her eyebrows, she reaches out to lightly grasp at his elbow, willing his attention to shift from Beatrice to her.

"Harry, do you not find yourself attractive?"

It's a loaded question for any other first-time-meet-up, but at this point in their relationship, they've divulged a ton of information. She doesn't necessarily feel like much is off limits anymore.

Harry shrugs, mentally weighing his answer. "I mean, I think I'm just... fine."

"Fine?" Y/N repeats. "I'm not bullshitting you and I'm sorry if this makes you feel weird, but you're one of the most attractive men I've ever met."

He scoffs, allowing Beatrice to jump out of his arms. She leaps down to the floor, as if she's also feeling the intensity of the conversation and wants to be as far away from it as possible. With his hands now free, he sits down on the edge of his blue L-shaped couch, Y/N following suit. She sits across from him, watching as he wrings his hands together in his lap.

"I feel like that's probably a lie, you—"

"I told you I'm not bullshitting you."

Her response makes him laugh softly. "Yeah, but your whole career is based on, like... being attractive. I mean, look at you — you've definitely met more good looking people than me."

"Do you think I often meet up with people I meet from my streams?" Y/N asks, tilting her head to the side with a mocking smile. He knows she doesn't, because they discussed this multiple times before. "I don't know anyone in real life. Not from there, at least. You're the only one."

Harry shrugs his shoulders. "I guess it's just a little surprising."

"There's nothing to be surprised about," she reassures him gently. In an act of courage, she doesn't think much before her hand lands on his knee, giving it a light squeeze. "I want to be here. With you. I care about you."

A smile curls at the edges of his lips.

"So," she says, leaning back against the plushy cushions of his couch, "What were you thinking for dinner?"

. . .

Once the awkward tension melts between the two, it's as if they've known each other forever.

They order food and talk about everything and anything while Friends plays quietly in the background. Secretly, Y/N is over the moon — she never could have imagined things going this well between them.

It's only when she yawns loudly, feeling exhaustion begin to seep into her bones that she realizes how late it is. When she glances at her phone to check the time, her eyes bulge.

"Harry! It's 1 am, you should've kicked me out ages ago!" she exclaims, sitting up. With furrowed brows and puffy, sleepy eyes, he turns to look at her.

"Didn't even realize it was that late," he mumbles, suppressing a yawn of his own. "By the way, I would never kick you out."

She shakes her head with a small smile and rises from the couch. "C'mon, walk me out."

He nods and follows her out of the living room, back down to the hallway where she left her coat and shoes. With his arms crossed over his chest, he leans his hip against the wall, watching as she gets ready to leave. He wishes there was a way he could ask her to stay.

"Text me when you get home, alright?" he says lowly. Once she fits her boots over her feet, she straightens, nodding her head.

"I will," she murmurs. She can't help it when her eyes quickly flit down to his lips, a zip of anxiety firing through her chest. She so badly wants to kiss him. And, as if they're both elongating their goodbyes, he clears his throat before toeing his own shoes on.

"I'll walk you to your car."

"Oh, I walked here," she replies, stuffing her arms into her navy puffer jacket.

Harry furrows his eyebrows. "You walked?"

"Yeah, of course. We're only, like, 10 minutes away from each other, you know."

"Babe..." Harry sighs, the pet name nearly making her drool, "Didn't you see there's a huge snowstorm slated for tonight? They predicted a few inches by midnight."

Y/N's eyes widen. "Really?"

He laughs lightly before nodding his head. He gingerly wraps his hand around the doorknob to the front door, pulling it open just enough to where Y/N can see massive snowflakes falling from puffy clouds above. It's freezing, a cold chill making her shudder just from the quick peek outside.

"Fuck." she mutters, pulling her jacket closer to her body.

"Stay," he blurts out, glancing down at her shorter stature. "I... you can sleep in my bed and I'll sleep down here. I just don't want you going out in that. It's late."

The nerves are apparent in his shaky voice, but nonetheless, Y/N's nodding her head before he even finishes what he's saying.

"Okay." she breathes. "Can I borrow some pajamas?"

"Yeah, of course."

She follows him up to his bedroom, where he pulls a pair of sweatpants and a vintage tee-shirt out from his dresser. The room is clean, unsurprisingly so — if she's learned anything about Harry tonight, it's that he takes good care of his space, which she considers to be a great trait. His bed is made, his nightstand free from dust and only donning one of those fancy sunrise alarm clocks and a reusable water bottle.

He hands them to her, "I'll give you some privacy."

She nods with a small smile, murmuring out a thank you. Once he shuts the door behind him, she quickly sheds her own clothing and folds it neatly before pulling on his clothes. A moment or so later, he knocks politely, waiting for her to let him know if it's okay to come in.

"You're good," she calls out. He twists the doorknob open and stands in the entryway with a spare pillow and blanket tucked beneath his arm.

"I'm gonna change and head downstairs, but let me know if you need anything."

They stand there, looking at one another as if they're waiting for the other to say what's on both of their minds. When the silence remains, he flashes her a tight smile and turns around.

"Wait!" she exclaims, mentally cringing at the high-pitched tone of her voice. "Will you stay for a bit?"

Harry's shoulders visibly deflate. Once again, he bites his lip, as if he's trying to hide a smile.

"Yeah. I can stay."

They move silently but it's like they've performed this dance a million times before. She watches as he peels back the blankets on his bed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He turns the light off before smoothing over the cotton sheets, as if he's making sure they're suitable for her to lay in.

"Lemme just throw some sweats on," he mumbles, striding over to his dresser, "Get comfortable, okay?"

He excuses himself to the bathroom, where he slowly undresses himself and pulls on a cozy pair of sweatpants. He typically sleeps naked or just in a pair of briefs, but he would never even dream of doing anything remotely like that with Y/N in his bed.

Fuck. Y/N's in his bed.

He swallows tightly and tries to ward off the anxiety bubbling in his chest, taking time to wash his face and brush his teeth. When he's elongated the process enough, he returns to the bedroom to find her laying down and curled up in his blankets. It's almost as if she knew what side Harry typically sleeps on, opting for the one that's always empty.

"Are you comfortable?" Harry asks quietly as he moves through the dark, dumping his clothes from today in the hamper. She hums softly, a pretty sound that makes his length jump in his sweatpants.

"Your bed is nice." she murmurs. He chuckles and gets in next to her, leaving enough space between them so he doesn't crowd her space.

"I'm glad you think so. Want you to sleep well tonight."

Despite the exhaustion permeating from both of their bodies, Y/N finds it difficult to get completely comfortable, to the point where she could fall asleep. She can't help the excitement buzzing in her bones from being next to Harry — her fleetwoodlondon tipper.

"Are you still awake?" she whispers.

He doesn't answer immediately, which leads her to believe he's already fallen asleep. But then, he shifts onto his side, tucking his hands beneath his cheek to face her. "Mhm. What's wrong?"

She shrugs. "Nothing. Just not sleepy enough yet."

"Do you want me to talk to you about computer engineering? That'll knock you out in seconds."

She giggles, flipping onto her side and mimicking his position. She nibbles on her bottom lip as she assesses his features in the darkness of his bedroom — the slope of his nose, his two slightly overlapped front teeth, the dull sharpness of his cheekbones.

"No, but you can talk to me about other stuff."

"Hmm," he says, placing his hand down against the mattress between them. Instinctively, she reaches out to intertwine their fingers together. His heart speeds up. "What was that gift you were supposed to give me tonight?"

Her cheeks redden and she's grateful he can't see the nervousness that pops up on her face.

"It's not important." she rushes out.

"That's not an answer," he sing-songs, giving her hand a squeeze, "C'mon, tell me."

"It's embarrassing now."

He quirks an eyebrow. "Embarrassing?"

She nods.

"How so?"

"Well... it was more so for when we didn't know we lived close to each other. Before we decided to meet in person."

"Okay...?"

"I got us Bluetooth sex toys." she blurts out with a warm face. The heat from her shame travels down the length of her body, making her sweat beneath his gaze. "Um, I got a cock ring for you and a vibrator for me. So we could control them for each other. I bough them the day after you, um, told me what to do on my stream. It's stupid now, and I'm sorry if that's crossing a huge boundary since I know we haven't done anything like that in a month, so maybe you've changed your mind—"

"I haven't changed my mind." he cuts her off. "I still watch every one of your streams."

She swallows harshly. "Really?"

"I never miss one," he admits. "And the fact that you thought of me like that and... got us those is... it's really hot, Y/N."

Her core throbs. It's the first time she's heard him talk like this not over text or private messaging. She squeezes her thighs together as she bites on her bottom lip, attempting to slow her breathing to a normal pace.

"You think so?" she breathes.

"Yeah."

Even without a single light on in his bedroom, she can feel his intense gaze on her. Unhurriedly, she moves her leg closer to his, wiggling it to fit between his thighs. He welcomes her touch without a word.

"I really liked when you dominated me that night," she whispers. Perhaps it's a confession that doesn't need to be verbalized — he knows she adored it not only because she asked for it, but because she came in record time, too. Since that evening, he hasn't stopped thinking how he watched her hole clench around her fingers because of him. She moaned his name — or rather, his honorific — over and over again. Every time he's gone to jerk off without watching her stream, it's all he's needed to think about, blurts of cum spraying his stomach not a few minutes later.

"I liked doing it." he murmurs. She begins to move her foot up and down the length of his calf, the feeling of her soft skin making him shiver.

"What else did you like?"

The tip of his tongue peeks out to lick over his lips. What a loaded question — he likes just about everything she does, but that was a guaranteed cop-out of an answer.

"I liked hearing you call me daddy," he confesses lowly. "Liked watching you. Thought about you bouncing on my cock and finishing that way."

She hums, closing the distance between them without even realizing it. Their chests are pressed up against each other's, her puffy nipples now stiff peaks beneath the soft fabric of his tee-shirt. He can feel himself thickening up steadily, though he's sure he would've gotten hard just by sleeping next to her.

"I think I would let you do just about anything you want to me," she admits, nibbling on her bottom lip, "You turn me on so much... I don't even think you realize it."

He huffs in disbelief, snaking an arm around her waist to gently tug her impossibly closer. He gives her hip a small squeeze as a test — he's been thinking about throwing her around like a doll for months on end, but her comfort is his top priority, always.

"What does 'anything' entail?" he asks. He knows he's asking for trouble now, that there's no returning from this. There's no way that this night won't end with him balls deep inside of her, thrusting his cum into her pussy until she's squealing and pushing him away from overstimulation.

"Well, for starters, you can take me however you want," she says, trailing soft fingertips down his chest. She stops at his abs and he breathes in sharply, willing her to continue her journey downwards. "From behind, me on top... wherever and whenever you want. Don't care if we're in public, either. I'd love to show you off and make sure everyone knows I cum for you."

He groans, head tilting back slightly from her possessive words. "More," he demands gruffly.

"Want you to use all my toys on me... tie me up, press a vibrator to my clit until I can't see straight anymore," her fingers meet his hips, lightly feeling over his cock underneath his sweatpants. "Have you watched the shows where I squirt?"

"Of course I have, pretty baby."

Her chest warms at the nickname. As if it's a reward, her hand dips beneath his sweatpants, gasping in mock surprise when she finds that he's not wearing underwear. Better yet, he's hard and aching for her.

"I have no doubt that I'd squirt for you."

She punctuates her sentence by wrapping her hand around the base of his cock, giving it a cursory squeeze. A short, low groan sounds from his chest before he's grabbing her arm and giving her a sharp look. Alarmed, she quickly removes her hand.

"I'm sorry. Was that too much? Did I misunderstand?"

"Not at all," he mutters, getting up onto his knees. His other hand finds her free wrist, raising both of her arms above her head. She gasps out in surprise. "I just think it's cute that you think after watching you get off for months, you think I wouldn't want first dibs on this pussy."

Y/N giggles, relief flushing through her chest at the knowledge that she didn't do anything wrong. Keeping her arms propped up with one of his large hands, he uses the other to tug her sweatpants down. Just like him, she's decided to go underwear-free this evening.

"You're glistening already. Dripping down to your cute little ass."

His words make her swallow harshly. She knew from that one conversation that he was an expert at dirty talk, but hearing it in person was an entirely different game. One that she surely would never forget.

He uses two of his fingertips to spread her labia, breathing out fiercely at the sight of the strings of arousal. With his fingers in a v-shape, he watches as the pretty ribbons snap each time he moves his digits up and down, issuing a light massage to the skin between her lips and thighs.

"You're so much prettier in person." he murmurs. "I've watched you cum so many times, but... nothing compares to the real thing. You know that, pretty baby?"

A pathetic whimper falls from her swollen lips. "Stop teasing, daddy."

His heart thuds at the name. It's a weak spot, especially hearing it come from her. Watching her hole pulsate around nothing, he decides he wants — no, needs — nothing more than to lean forward and wrap his lips around her pearled clit. Her taste is heady and delicious and he's instantly hooked, especially when she curls her leg around his shoulder, pressing her heel into his back to pull him closer. She moans loudly as he sucks messily, his eyes rolling back when he feels the swollen bundle throb in his mouth.

"So good," she whines, "'s so good daddy, fuck."

He can tell that she needs minimal prep, but his suspicion is only proven right when he pushes a finger inside, her hole immediately sucking him in. He prods at her g-spot, eliciting another mewl from her pretty mouth. He thinks he could cum just from this — from sucking at her clit and fingering her deep inside, feeling her thrash around beneath him as her orgasm builds.

"Fuck— wait, wait," she pants out. Harry instantly stops, removing his hands and mouth from her. He looks up with concerned eyes and she smiles a hazy, gentle grin, pushing her hand through his messy hair. "Can you edge me? I wanna cum on your cock, daddy."

He thinks he may faint on the spot.

"Whatever you want, pretty."

She laughs breezily when he surges forward once more, nudging the tip of his tongue into her wet hole. She gasps as he thrusts it in and out, lifting his free hand to rub circles into her sensitive clit. The sensation of her pussy clenching around the width of his tongue is almost too much to handle for both of them.

He waits for her to tell him when she's almost at the edge, but it doesn't take much more. Soon enough, she's panting and pushing him away, whimpering out that she's nearly there.

"Can I ride you, please?" she nearly begs, her eyes widened and watery, "Please, need to feel you deep inside."

He chuckles at her desperation, sitting up on his heels to thumb at her bottom lip. He pulls it and lets snap back.

"Only if you give me a kiss, baby."

She scrambles onto her knees, billowing forward to press her lips messily to his. It's wet and hot, especially with the heady taste of her arousal on his tongue. He groans when she begins to suck at it, overwhelmed by her enthusiasm as he gives her hip a squeeze. When he breaks their kiss, he presses a quick one to her nose before maneuvering her body so she's straddling his waist. She rolls her hips urgently, his cock spreading her labia deliciously. It's a gorgeous sight — one Harry never wants to forget.

"Put me in." he instructs, folding his hands behind his head.

With shaky hands, she lifts up slightly, granting herself just enough room so she can lower onto his length. The second the tip pops through her tight walls, they're both moaning loudly, her eyes fluttering shut. Harry forces his to stay open so he can memorize the way she looks taking him for the first time.

"Take your time," he murmurs, breaking his dominant persona for a moment, "Don't force yourself, pretty baby. Give yourself a second."

"I can take it," she pouts, grinding down against his pelvic bone. She whimpers, her hand flying to her stomach. "Fuck— fuck, I can feel you in here, daddy."

"Told you, silly girl," he says with a smirk, his hands finding her hips with a squeeze. "Take your time. Don't need you getting hurt."

This time, she listens to him and allows herself a few moments to adjust. Once it doesn't feel like he's punching through to her cervix, she bounces once in experimentation, just to make sure she can really, truly take it.

"Why didn't you ever mention— oh— that you're fucking massive?" she whimpers out as she begins to bounce up and down. He laughs, though it quickly gets cut short when he begins to properly feel the tightness of her pussy.

"Guess it never came up." he mutters through gritted teeth.

His hands remaining on her hips, he helps her maintain her rhythm. He swallows harshly as he watches her breasts jiggle in time with her dropping up and down, never once allowing his cock to shift.

"'m gonna cum soon," she babbles out. As if on cue, Harry feels her hole pulsating around his length, making his eyes roll back.

"Show me," he demands, steadying her hips with his hands. He starts to thrust up into her, watching as her jaw falls slack from the slight but sudden switch in position. "There you go, baby. Take daddy's cock like you were made for it. Cum all over me."

He never doubted it, but god she's good at taking directions. Within a few seconds, she's clenching and coming all over his cock, whiney mewls falling from her lips as her orgasm washes over her. She moans out his honorific repeatedly, just like she did all those months ago. The sight and sound of her sopping wet pussy sucking in his length is enough to send him to his own peak, abs clenching as he fucks up into her, filling her to the brim with his warm come.

"Fuck, take it pretty girl, there you go," he groans loudly.

When each of their orgasms eventually taper off, the only thing that fills the room is the sound of their haphazard breathing. Gently, she lifts off, her hands pressing down against his chest. She feels his mess slowly seeping out of her.

"'m sorry," he runs his hand through his hair, realizing that he finished in her without discussing it. "I should've asked—"

"No, it's fine. I'm on birth control. I wouldn't have wanted you to finish anywhere else." she admits bashfully, her cheeks rosy in a post-orgasm flush. "It's just... uncomfortable once it's over."

"Of course. Let me grab a towel to clean you up."

She nods graciously as she gradually flips onto her back. Harry returns a moment later, wiping his length clean before nestling between her thighs to wash the evidence of their sex away.

"Thank you," Y/N mumbles sleepily. "No one's ever done this for me before."

Harry scoffs. If he wasn't so exhausted, he would have pressed for more details, insisting that this wasn't something worth thanking him for. Instead, he simply tosses the towel in the hamper and gets back underneath the blankets.

"Can we cuddle?" she asks quietly, lifting her head to look at him. He smiles, extending his arm so she can nestle into his side.

"C'mere, pretty."

. . .

The next morning, Harry wakes up with Y/N tucked into his chest. They're still naked, but the warmth of her soft body feels incredible. So much so, that he wonders if he's stuck in some sort of dream.

He realizes it's not when she begins to stir in his arms. When she bats her eyelashes open, her eyes puffy with sleep, she smiles gently.

"Morning."

Harry matches her smile. In a leap of faith, he leans down to press a kiss to her lips. Even after last night's events, he's unsure if this is appropriate. He's not sure if it was supposed to be a one night stand type of situation, but considering she didn't get up in the middle of the night and leave, he entertains the idea that it may be a bit more than that.

"Good morning," he returns, watching as her face glows from his brief kiss. "What time do you have to be at work?"

She groans and it immediately makes him feel guilty. She leans up onto her elbows, the edge of the comforter hiding the peeks of her nipples as she glances at the time. It's already 8:10.

"I'm supposed to be there at 9," she replies, laying back down against the pillows. It looks like the wheels are churning in her head as she mindlessly fits her fingers between his.

"What are you thinking about?" he murmurs lowly, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Calling in sick," she admits. "Is it ridiculous that I don't want to leave?"

He chuckles, though a wave of relief washes over him. He had been thinking the same — he wanted to make her breakfast and have him in his bed all day, lean over and pepper kisses all over her face and watch as she wrinkles her nose in that cute way she does.

"Not ridiculous. We've spent months talking to each other, think we deserve some time together," he says, "In fact... if you call out, I'll do it, too."

"Really?" she asks with raised eyebrows.

"Sure. I have weeks of paid time that I've never used."

She grins and nods her head, "Okay. Yeah, that sounds good. Could we hang out all day? Maybe watch some movies and snuggle with Beatrice?"

"That sounds perfect, pretty girl." he replies, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. He sits up and grabs his clothes from the floor, pulling his sweatpants on before he heads down to his home office.

"Wait!" she grabs his arm, pulling gently. He quirks an eyebrow and looks at her expectedly. "Could we... do you think we can maybe use those toys I bought us?"

The warm flush that flowers over her cheeks makes his heart squeeze in his chest.

"Anything you want, baby," he murmurs with a small smile, "Anything you want."

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imnameimswrld · 6 days

Text

. . . ⵌ ׄ ۪ 𝐒𝐍𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋 ¹ ׄ ⑅ MV1 ‌˖ ֺ ᰮ

— DESCRIPTION ੭ in short, you're done standing back when mr verstappen thinks he can push around your boyfriend like he wants.

— PAIRING ੭ max verstappen x gf!reader.

— FILE ੭ imagine.

— DISCLAIMERS ੭ 🔞 mdni, suggestive content, language, light mention of verbal abuse, max's parents are still together and he's dad's a total ass, also (currently) unedited.

❪ main masterlist | f1 masterlist | max verstappen masterlist ❫

━━━━━━━━━━❪ 🖤 ❫━━━━━━━━━━

Dinner was going so perfectly; aside from the lovely food, you too indulged in all the hilarious and adorable stories Mrs Verstappen had been so vibrantly been dishing out for you. Max was red in the face with embarrassment, your hand comfortable in his as he caresses it in his lap.

His siblings would join in on the conversation whenever they saw the opportune moment to shut down whatever lie their brother concocted on the spot to try and get himself out of a playful scolding from his mom, and it all just warmed your heart to see how happy he seemed in the moment.

But then, someone just had to speak up from his quiet spot at the head of the table and piss all over his content mood.

"Max, meet me outside for a drink. I'd like to talk to you."

To the ears of a stranger Mr Verstappen's words would sound like a simple request, to which Max could easily decline and just continue sitting in the comfortability of his family. However, you've been around for long enough to recognize that tone; it's no request.

It's an order.

His father stands, wine glass in hand, and steps away without another word as he leaves towards the back door. Once he's gone, a shivering silence settles over the table. His siblings look everywhere but their brother, Mrs Verstappen all but sighs softly and starts to clean up the table, and Max stares done at your hand in his.

"Max," you start, tightening your grip. "Just, stay here," you try, and when he looks up with a small smile that does nothing but claw at your heart, you try another tactic. "Or let's just go home. We can have some ice-cream, watch that weird documentary you're you're obsessed with, I can even-"

"I'll be only a few minutes schatjie, then we can leave, okay ?" he rubs over your hand, probably hoping it would ease your racing your heart.

It doesn't.

"Max," you begin again, hesitant eyes watching as he rises from his chair beside you and gently places your hands in your own lap.

"Help mom clean up, will you please ? I'll be back in a minute love." you want to protest yet again, but nothing comes out of you parted lips when he places a kiss to the crown of your head, before walking away, softly shutting the sliding door to the backyard behind him.

Taking a breath, you try to calm yourself as you stand to help Mrs Verstappen with clearing the table. You try your best to focus on anything else, but knowing that all his father is doing right now is being mean and belittling his son is gnawing at your insides in a way that has molten hot anger simmering in your gut.

Everyone in Max's family are such lovely, kind people – and then you get his poor excuse of a father.

You don't even realise you have the ends of the table cloth balled up in your molded right fists until there's a sharp poke in your ribs. Turning, you gaze meets eyes that so closely resemble Max's, it almost always makes you smile.

"Go." Victoria nods her head towards the back door, and you momentarily look back, before meeting his eyes that match the worry you feel inside.

It's just one word, but it holds all the emotions she's feeling and with hos strong they are, it gives you the green light. With a short nod, you turn on your heel and take long, determined strides towards the glass door.

When you open it, it seems your disrupt the conversion at just the right moment.

"She's going to become a distraction, Max. All you've worked for and currently working towards, is going to be for nothing."

"I sorely disagree, sir."

The two men's heads whirl at the sudden entrance of your voice, and the confidence that colours your face has Max weak in his knees, feeling as if he's falling in love with you all over again.

His father's spine straightens at the sight of you as you join Max by his side, his arm instinctively coming up to rest his hand at the small of your back.

"This conversation does not concern you, Ms L/N."

You hum once with a bitter smile. "From what I heard, Mr Verstappen, it seems as it does."

He locks his jaw, hand tightening around his wine glass so harshly you think it's just seconds from shattering in his hand.

"Max, I've told you to keep this one in check before she-"

"Do not speak of her as if she's not right in front of you, Jos," Max's gaze darkens to the blue of the bottom of the ocean, and it has your insides curling in pride.

He only ever truly gets upset when his father disrespect you, otherwise he just stands quietly to entertain the nonsense coming out of his mouth, knowing he'll soon leave and enjoy all the true love you shower him I'm everyday later.

"And quite frankly, I like my girlfriend exactly how she is," he smirks, fingers massaging the revealing skin of your back from the cropped shirt you were wearing. "Snippy tongue and all."

It's true, you smile; he especially loves it when you have that same tongue down his throat, or wrapped around his cock.

It seems Max has that same thought in mind, because despite his father's furious gaze staring down at him, he can't seem to rid the naughty smirk from hid face, his hand now sliding down to fall into your back pocket.

He squeezes once, and you bite down on your tongue to keep the moan back.

"Now, if you're done trying to convince me what a failed son I am, I'm going to head home with my snippy-tongued girlfriend." he pats your jean-clad ass one softly, before pulling his hand to wrap his arm around your waist.

"Dag Jos. Ik hoop dat ik je blijf irriteren, het is mijn favoriete spel ( Bye Jos. I hope I continue to piss you off, it's my favouritesport !) !" you wave your fingers in an obnoxious manner, smile so sweet you hope it rots every damned tooth in his shitty mouth.

Max's deep, honey-draped chuckle rings in your ear, his voice low in the most pussy-wetting manner. "You know what you speaking Dutch does to me, schatjie."

Batting your eyelashes, you smile. "Oh, ik weet het (Oh, I know)."

A gravely groan resonates from his throat, his bany blues trained down on your glossy lips. "Ik kan niet wachten om je te neuken (I can't wait to fuck you)."

━━━━━━━━━━❪ 🖤 ❫━━━━━━━━━━

✍: I might be writing a part 2, but that one will contain smut soooo if you're not into reading that, don't ! ♡ ... but if you arrreeeeee, hehe, stay tuned 🎀.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #mv1 x reader #mv1 imagine #mv1 fic #mv1 x you #mv1

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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months

Note

going to the beach with Alastor? Sounds fun!

I love rock hunting at the beach 😭

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being MEAN, Cartoonish violence, Suggestive?

Description: ☝️⬆️

Originally, Alastor doesn't want to go to the beach but after some begging and pleading from you he gives in

He's weak to your puppy eyes and just in general can't tell you no

So he's going to the beach

Alastor is normally content to just soak up some sun at the beach, really relax and enjoy his time

But he's also a little shit who loves to mess with people in any way he can including his S/O

Meeting you and entering a relationship with you has opened up a whole new way for him to play

Alastor knows how good he looks in his beach outfit, the way you blush and stare at him is proof enough

Little does he know you just think his hooves are cute

Not that he doesn't also think you look good

You look delicious

He likes getting those flustered reactions out of you, they're his little reassurances that you're still into him

Of course you are??

He literally strikes coy poses whenever you walk by him, doing everything he can to catch your eye

"Y/N, could you help me with my sunscreen~?"

"Darling, could you fetch me an ice cream cone?"

"Would you be so kind as to get me something to drink? It's so hot out today!"

You're gonna melt

Not that he doesn't spend a good amount of time watching you as well

Will relax in a watertube nearby so that he can stay close to you, listening to your laughter

He watches on with a fond smile as you play in the water with Niffty and Angel, using his tentacles to grab anyone else who looks at you

Uses his sunglasses to hide the fact that he's watching you build a sandcastle with Husk and Vaggie, pretending to sunbathe

"Niffty!! You're destroying it!"

"Bury me! Bury me ALIVE!"

Angel catches him and just assumes Alastor is looking at your ass as you bend over the wrecked remains of your castle

Alastor has the decency to look embarrassed

If you want to fly a kite, then Alastor will stand behind you with the lame excuse that he's helping you

"And your hands on my hips help me how..?"

"I'm simply positioning your body to better hold the kite, my love~"

When you ask him to play volleyball with you, Alastor will make a big show of thinking it over

But as soon as he sees Lucifer and Charlie are your opponents then he's getting up and ready to fucking win

He's going to show off for you for the first few rounds, then it'll dissolve into him and Lucifer competing fiercely

You and Charlie are just standing and watching them at this point, you two even leave to go get food then come back

You'll have to drag him away if you want some time with him because he won't quit

"I should've won, darling! I won that last round..!"

"Yes dear, you won." 😘

Will walk with you along the beach, holding any shells or cool things you find in the sand

Won't warn you when the tide is coming in though, laughing when you come back to him looking like a soaked kitten

Isn't laughing when you throw him in but he makes sure to take you down with him

Now both of you are soaked, laying together in the water and smiling at each other while holding in your laughter

And if he rolls you over and kisses you, then that's your business

You two walk back wet and covered in sand, which is a lot less fun than you anticipated

You can't help but laugh as you try to brush the sand off of Alastor's ears, his smile annoyed

"Remind me why I agreed to come to the beach? All this sand..."

"Because I wanted you to be here with us...with me..!"

"So you're to blame~"

You're probably exhausted after such an eventful day, wanting to get the sand off of your body

"Ugh...I desperately need a shower after today..."

Alastor's grin is positively predatory as he runs his claws down your back before pulling you in by your waist

"I'll join you, my dear~"

This was too fun! I love the beach so much! I hope you liked it!

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

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ghostlykeyes · 11 months

Note

Hey, I'm really happy to see you back! I hope your break was good, you definitely earned it. Could I get some relationship headcanons for Power dating a human who's not a Devil Hunter? If not that's okay, still love your blog!

Thank you!! 🖤

Power

You're an enigma to Power, at first, even if she'll never admit it. Most of the humans she's interacted with are devil hunters, meaning they're just looking for an excuse to put her down. The other humans aren't much better—always yelling at her for shaking soda bottles, throwing vegetables, opening a bag of chips in the store. But you? You give her ice cream and brush her hair and worry about her after she's been in a fight. You're nice. It's that niceness (and the choking flame that burns in her chest when she sees you being that nice to anyone else but her) that convinces Power that dating you might be worth a shot. She's not one to engage in silly human rituals, but for you? For you, she will.

Power thinks you're probably the best person alive, and she swears to protect you. After all, she can't just let the Only Good Human die. Of course, this means she'll rip devils apart for you. But she looks out for you in little ways, too. Power insists that you buckle your seatbelt (even if her own isn't buckled, the damn hypocrite) and holds your hand firmly while you're on the sidewalks—wouldn't want you bumping into people or stumbling into the road, of course.

Going along with this, Power tends to be incredibly overprotective. She just doesn't trust humans, and she knows that a lot of people might try to take advantage of your kind, good nature. If you ask her to play nice with your friends and family, she will, but she'll always be looking for them to slip up. She'll be damned if she lets them say anything about her beautiful, kind, perfect human—if someone sneaks a mean comment or snooty look into a conversation, Power's instantly glowering at them. One more wrong move, her glare says, and I shall be feeding you your teeth.

If she isn't allowed to eat lunch with you, Power will raise absolute hell. She loves to sit next to you at the table, your thighs squished comfortably together. Power sits still for you to gently push chopsticks full of rice into her mouth, and slides her vegetables onto your plate when she thinks you aren't looking. (Sometimes she lets Denji sit at the table with you—other times, she banishes him to the other side of the restaurant so she can have alone time with you. He won't complain, or snitch to Aki that Power's essentially unsupervised, as long as you sneak a few hundred yen into his pocket so he can order dessert.)

Power always calls you, "my human". She wants everyone to know that you're hers and hers alone.

Getting Power to do basic chores is an absolute nightmare, so sometimes Aki will use time with you as an incentive. "If you take the trash out," he tells her, "I'll bring you and (y/n) to the aquarium later." It usually works, even if Power grumbles that it's completely unfair to use her precious human as a bargaining chip.

Power absolutely thrives off of physical touch and she will do anything to feel your warmth. She always has to be holding your hand, have her arm looped through yours, or resting her head on your warm, soft shoulder. Piggyback rides are a favorite of hers, too. She loves wrapping her legs firm around your waist and clasping hands across your chest. On your back, completely supported as the both of you dissolve into giggles, is one of the only things that makes Power feel truly safe.

It follows, then, that Power is addicted to cuddles. She's all over you whenever you're laying down for an afternoon nap or settling on the couch for a movie. She wraps her arms around your shoulders, plops her head in your lap, stretches her stomach over your thighs—whatever's most comfortable. When Meowy settles in, too, the cuddle pile is complete and Power is content to spend the rest of the day snuggled into your warmth.

If you have time while she's out on patrol, Power entrusts you with caring for Meowy. Most people might see changing the cat's litterbox and opening her canned food as an inconvenient, bothersome chore, but you know Power much better than most people. Meowy is her entire world, and the fact that she trusts you to look after the cat is an enormous sign of her affection and care for you.

Hopefully you're good at sharing, because Power is great at taking. She just doesn't understand why anything would be off-limits if you're dating each other. Isn't that basically an agreement to share everything? She'll help herself to the rewards points you've been stacking up, the chewing gum in your bag, your clothes. You'd be more frustrated with her if she didn't look so damn cute in your sweatshirts.

If Power's confused about aspects of human culture, she always comes to you for an explanation. She loves that you never make her feel stupid for not understanding something. Plus, she just likes the sound of your voice, so that's an added benefit.

Power spends a lot of time trying to convince you that all devil hunters are positively evil. It's not that she cares much if they kill other devils—she just doesn't like the way that they look at her like she's a dog on a leash, just waiting for her to bite so there's an excuse to put her down. They're all full of malice, she claims, and if you see one in public it would be prudent to throw rocks at them. (You don't, of course, but she keeps insisting that's probably the best course of action.)

#chainsaw man/reader #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man #chainsaw man headcanons #Power/reader #power x y/n #power x reader #power x you #power chainsaw man #power csm

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heartshapedbubble · 1 year

Text

HIIII guess who finally finished the fic they've been putting off for literal months 😇😇😇😇 um anyways this is for the lovely anon who wanted a sequel to the "the person i once knew" oneshot mwah ily you know who you are!!!

anyways after this i have some orphy content for a very sweet commissioner and then i'll do the rest of the asks!! 💓

the person i once knew, part 2🦎

i gave up on the concept of proofreading whats that????, slightish cw for blood and some veeery light stuff, my god the writing sucks, gender neutral reader as usual, sorry for the wait anon, i lvoe lchino druiuse send message

-------------------------------------------------------

"Please...let me die a painless death."

That sentence gradually lost meaning with all the times it crossed your mind, gripping the reins of your psyche and making you flinch out of nowhere. The way it echoed in your head kept you awake for hundreds of nights: it was very obviously your voice, yet so unreachable, so distant, as if it crawled out from the deepest parts of your consciousness and made its way to your throat. But at the same time, it gradually unlocked a new emotion: fear. Death was basically gnawing at your ankles, and somehow, you're still alive, with both your feet on the ground and your head up. And the scariest thing was that all your memories of the day were a blurry mess, each of them overlapping, disconnecting and constantly shifting, leaving holes in your mind. You could have escaped death by pure luck, and you would never fully know.

Trying to reminisce of the day it happened was like playing a scratched record. Sometimes you saw vivid pictures, sometimes everything was pitch black, and sometimes it was just that gut-twisting feeling of anxiety and pressure. Only a few pictures materialized in your mind, awakening various sensations and making the hairs on your arms stand up straight. The scorching feeling of the unsharpened, rusty knife in your stomach. Hearing the unbearable screams, whimpers, and sighs of people that were surrounding you. The doctor's sickly pale face and veiny, thin hands illuminated by the unbearably bright yet depressing hospital light. Feeling your own sweat turn ice cold in a flash. It would be so easy to align the pieces of your memory if it wasn't for the constant shuffling, and, of course, your unavoidable feeling that there was a key puzzle piece missing, the one thing that would make everything click in place.

And of course, there was him. How could you even forget that?

Through all of your nightmares and dreams, even when you jolted and suddenly woke up panting and covered in cold sweat, the first thing that flashed in front of your eyes was him. A man so familliar which you simply couldn't name, the first letter always lying on the top of your tongue and never going further than that. Whenever you curled up under your bedsheets, you could smell the sweet fragrance of his hair, and often the warmth of his fingertips that gently traced along the soft lines of your body. And during hot summer nights, you felt the weight of his head on your chest as you got lulled to sleep by the soothing scent of lavender coming from your bedside table. It was kind of embarrassing, how easily you let yourself fall into a stranger's embrace and rest your cheek against his soft skin, woven out of threads of your memory. Perhaps you yearned for more than the pads of his fingers - you often found yourself dreaming of the feeling of his lips melding with yours, a lone string of saliva being the only thing separating them, and his warm breath grazing your ski-

"I apologize for interrupting your daydreaming, dear, but could I get my paycheck? I finished checking and dressing your wound some time ago."

You flinched, and the bright light from the ceiling blinded you again - you were so absorbed in your fantasy that you forgot you were looking at it in the first place. Disoriented, you looked around in panic, only to be met with the doctor's droopy eyes tiredly glaring back at you.

"I-I'm sorry, ma'am, I- I really zoned out, I-" You were a stuttering mess, your cheeks heating up over the mere thought of the doctor watching you drift away. "No worries, sweetheart, I've seen worse.", the doctor replied, taking off the rubber gloves off of her hands. Unintentionally, you found yourself inspecting her features. She seemed disheveled, but still elegant - her sickly pale skin was decorated with various moles, and a lone pearl earring hung from her ear, the milky shine standing out from the plain working dress she wore. "Also, feel free to call me Emily. We'll be hanging out for quite some time until your wound fully heals, so why not be on friendly terms?" She smiled back at you. Her smile didn't last long, but it seemed as if she fought through her sleepiness and stress just to make your face light up for a moment. You couldn't stop yourself from grinning back at her, I mean, it's just human nature, isn't it? You thought to yourself.

Emily was a doctor assigned to help you out after your injury, one of the people you first saw after waking up from the wound-induced coma. Even though she was presumably overworked and not incredibly talkative, you could notice her slowly warming up to you with each visit, treating you with soft smiles every time she put on fresh bandages on your wound and stitched any stray cut that wasn't caught by the fabric wrapped around your waist. It was fascinating, watching her hand work - calculated, precise and fast like a needle on a sewing machine.

"Thanks for helping me out again, ma- I mean, Emily", you mumbled after clumsily wiggling out of your bed. "No worries, darling. Just remember to clean the wound every day, and avoid bending yourself over and doing physical work." She replied, draping her cloak around her shoulders.

You reached into the cupboard in your room, and tucked a thin stack of cash into the small pocket of her cloak. "Here. I gave you extra this time. Thanks again, you have no idea how much I value your help." You said and smiled again. Emily's eyebrows drooped. "Are you sure? That's way more than I need..." she worriedly whispered as you led her to the doorstep. "Don't worry about it!" you whispered back. She sighed. "Then I have no other option other than thank you for your generosity." You were treated by one of her gentle smiles yet again, dimples gracing both of her cheeks. "Well, I have to go now. I'll come over in a week or two. Just remember to take your painkillers if the abdominal pain becomes unbearable - such periods of pain are normal as the wound is still healing. Oh- I'm pretty sure they already arrived, yes?" She pointed her foot at the small bundle of cardboard packages and letters by your doorstep. "Anyways, take care. And remember-"

"I know - no overworking!"

A smile graced her face once again before she turned her back towards you and disappeared in the chilly autumn fog.

You sighed as you crouched to pick up today's mail. It was nothing special - your brown box of painkillers, a letter regarding rent, and an...

"... Invitation?" Your teeth stabbed into your bottom lip. It was, undoubtedly, an invitation - the yellowish envelope stood out from the pile, a weird symbol stamped onto the wax covering the opening. Your finger carefully traced the seal, and you didn't know if it was just your imagination, but you swore it was still heated, even though it was solid. Your gaze bounced onto the edges of the envelope, slightly scorched and crumbling with every touch.

You held the envelope in front of yourself - to open it, or not to open it? Your first instict was tearing it apart, but the longer you inspected the envelope, the more anxious you felt. Who could possibly be the mysterious sender behind it? There wasn't any information about the sender anywhere other than the enigmatic wax seal.

Letter opener in one hand, the edge of the letter in other, you sliced through the wax and the tightly pressed paper. You reached into the envelope, pulling out a small, crumbled piece of paper. It seemed like it was ripped straight out of a notebook, and through the blotchy handwriting, you made out the letters - it was an address. This has to be some sort of a scam. First, vague information, then, this messy writing, then... you muttered to yourself, about to shove the paper back into the envelope. Then you felt something thicker your fingers, bulging from under the textured pergament.

"There's more...?"

You pulled out a piece of laminated, silky smooth paper. Squinting, you deciphered the letters hidden behind the blotches of ink:

____ and Luchino Diruse.

You flipped the paper.

There was a picture of two people gently holding each other in an embrace, their fingers intertwined. One of them being you, and the other....

You'd recognize that face anywhere.

It was him.

Your stupidity and impulsiveness was amusing. What made everything funnier was the fact that you repeated that sentence in your mind as you got off the train, already neck deep in the problem. Fascinating about a stranger was already hilarious, but actually chasing them, going head first without any second thought just to see him in the flesh? It was a fucking comedy.

In front of you was an old yet enormous manor, rotting and ruined by the passing of time. The windows were sealed shut with planks, and the garden in the front of it probably wasn't touched up in decades. It truly seemed like a cruel prank, if it wasn't for that picture left at the bottom of the envelope, which was now resting in the inner pocket of your coat. It was the only proof you had, the only thing confirming that the man called "Luchino" wasn't just a marionette sculpted by your unconscious mind. How hilarious.

Your curiosity got the best of you, and you found yourself pushing the (unlocked... for some reason) creaky door open and letting yourself get lost in the darkness of the main hall. It would be pitch black if it wasn't for the few lanterns hanging on the ceiling, spider webs wrapping around the textured glass. Disoriented, you looked around for any possible sign of other people living here, literally anything to prove that you came to the right place.

A ray of light appeared in the corner of your eye - it came from a half-opened door. You slowly approached it, in fear of making the floorboards creak. It's a stranger's house, after all, and you assumed them realizing they have unexpected guests would make them angry.

Yet, your ear was now peering into the illuminated room, curiosity eating you from the inside. You could make out the people speaking just by the tone of their voice - two women, a calm, collected woman and an energetic, younger woman with a soft french accent, seemingly deep into an argument. You could hear their voices jump up a few octaves with every sentence, them tripping on words as they tried to reason with each other. A step further wouldn't hurt anyone, right? Now your whole head was stuck between the wooden planks, but the only things you were able to see were the peeled wallpaper and the edge of a huge, almost royal dining table - this manor was the property of some aristocrat, no doubt about that. Your fingers were aggressively gripping the doorknob, almost desperately. If you could only muster up the courage to open it...

"I wouldn't advise going any further. Mostly because... well, let's just say that miss Bourbon is not the best if we're talking self-control."

The sudden deep, raspy voice behind you made you flinch and turn around in panic. A blindfolded man stood in front of you - his body was wrapped in long, dark blue cloths, and a leather satchel hung from his waist. On his shoulder was a big, brown owl, arching its fluffy chest towards you and curiously tilting its head, as if it wants to know who you are.

"Don't let yourself get intimidated by Brooke - she's just fascinated by newcomers." he said as his gloved hand ruffled the owl's feathers. "The name's Eli Clark, but call me Eli for short. And yours?" The same gloved hand was now reached out towards you, awaiting a handshake.

"My- ah- um...the name is ____. My pleasure, Eli." you nervously mumbled as you grabbed his hand and awkwardly shook it.

"____... What a pretty name. You're new here, right?" The brunette man suddenly smiled. "I've been expecting you."

"Oh, really? So you must be the owner of the manor then! You sent me the invitation too, right?"

Eli rubbed his chin.

"What invitation..?"

You reached into your pocket, showing him the crumpled, yellow envelope. "This one. I was hoping you were the person that could help me out with this personal mission of mine..."

He exhaled, his nose scrunching from under the blindfold. "I'm really sorry, but I think you've been misinformed. I'm not the owner of manor, the same goes for the other two current residents."

"So you must be a relative of the owner, yes?"

"No... In fact, no one here knew others beforehand. Nor do we know the owner, or who invited us - although my "invitation" was more of a... gut instinct, if you will." He let out a bleak, emotionless chuckle. "But all I can say is that you're not alone in this. Miss Bourbon and miss Gilman were both invited by the same stranger, as far as I know."

Your heart sank. It can't possibly be a dead end! There has to be something more...

"You mean this "owner" person invited a bunch of random people here? That they probably don't know, either?"

"Well... yes."

"But why?"

He clicked his tongue. "God knows why. I have my own reasons, and the ladies have them too. All I know is that all of them are quite personal."

You couldn't wait any longer. Just a clue, just a tiny little nag in the right direction - it was all you asked for. "Then, Eli, do you perhaps recognize this man?", you said as you yanked the picture out of your pocket. A sharp line dragged itself across its surface, wearing out the paper after the numerous times you folded it and opened it yet again, just to embed his face in your memory a little bit better.

Eli might have been blindfolded, but you could sense his eyes widening in shock, baffled at the sight of the picture you handed him. Instead, his owl leaned forward, eyes like big, glass marbles staring back at the withering face on the photograph.

"Do you know this man, ___?"

"Yes. I... well, I'm looking for him. It was actually the reason I came here - this photograph right here was in the invitation."

The brunette man pressed his lips together, thinking of how to reply to you.

"That... No. I've never seen him. I'm sorry."

"Then should we ask the other two residents?" your gaze flew onto the half-opened door. "Maybe they know somet-"

"They don't. Trust me, they're not from here. Miss Gilman is quite isolated from others and the modern way of living in general, and Miss Bourbon arrived 4 days ago from a whole other continent. He... ugh, actually, nevermind." his voice was nervous and twitchy, almost like he was shivering in the cold.

Was he lying? You bit your lip while thinking. Even if he was telling the truth, you could notice the impact that the picture had on him. It was just two lovers, arms wrapped around each other, pigment of their faces crumbling after being worn out by time, yet they seemed to throw him right into a state of panic. Avoidant, out of breath - what could had possibly been on his mind that caused such a reaction?

"Are you sure, Eli? You're sounding kind of unreasonable right now." your eyebrows furrowed as you spared a sharp glare at the panicking man.

"No! I'm just saying how it really is! It-"

A brown bush of hair suddenly popped up from the half open door, illuminated by the remaining traces of the warm, faint light from the dining room. "Can you two hurry up with introductions? Dinner's getting cold!"

Dinner went by faster than you thought.

As you followed Eli into the dining room, you were met with two women seated at the long table, the same ones that you overheard bickering.

"Yet another newcomer?" the calm, elegant lady spoke, her dark eyes squinting to get a better look at you. Her head and body were covered with a figureless purple garment, mystical symbols curved on the edges of the long, flabby sleeves and the hood. She suddenly stood up, her bony hand reaching towards you. "Fiona Gilman. Pleasure to meet you." you slowly shook her hand. "I bet all that traveling has worn you out, yes?"

"Oh, not at all, miss Fiona!" Even though she seemed like a friendly lady, you felt sort of intimidated by her elegant posture and mysterious, dazed eyes that were probably drifting off far away from the real word, losing themselves in some other dimension. As if she kept a dark secret that an ordinary human couldn't even comprehend. With her witchy appearance and tall, gloomy figure, she seemed out of this world, like a prophet of some apocalyptical, elven land.

"Doesn't matter, sugar, you're gonna eat some delicious soup and head back to bed. You seem quite sickly, too, did you get enough sleep? You should get two bowls today, warm homemade soup is the best cure for all illnesses..." the brown-haired lady spoke, pinching your cheeks while inspecting your face. Her french accent was still audible, her r's perching up and her u's cutely drooping a pitch lower every time she spoke. "Ah! I forgot to introduce myself. Call me Demi. None of that miss and mister bullshit. We're gonna be together for a few days anyway, so we should spend them in good spirits, no?" she said as she winked at you.

Even though it was only the four of you sitting at the huge table, the initial silence was instead filled with lively chatting, four different voices intertwining and interrupting each other. You got to know every single one of your new roommates, even some of their own funny quirks. Your mind drifted off of Luchino, completely forgetting about him until the moment you curled up in your new bed.

As you changed from your clothes into your pyjamas, the picture dropped down to the floor next to the bed. "Oh, I completely forgot about you." you whispered as a wave of guilt struck you right as you picked it up. Was this part of the owner's plan? To give you so many clues and hints to solve the puzzle that troubled you for weeks, and then have you give them up for a glass of wine and a chat with complete strangers? You weren't sleepy anymore. You tucked the picture into your fist, and decided to go get a glass of water, maybe even meet Demi and Fiona and ask them about Luchino. Eli's reply still didn't satisfy you, and seemed to actually create more questions instead of giving you a direct answer.

The creaking of the old staircase filled your ears as you made your way down to the kitchen, each stair rhytmically answering you with a high pitched squeak with every step you took. You looked at the open window in the hall - the grayish full moon gleamed in the beautiful night, without a single cloud in sight to hide its beauty. Once you got to the kitchen, you noticed the warm light peeking from under the door. Did someone forget to turn it off? Probably left it on on accident, you thought to yourself as you headed towards the door.

The second you put your hand on the doorknob, you halted. A person was on the other side. Or were there two? It could very well be Eli - he mentioned he struggled with his sleeping schedule. Or maybe Demi? She drank a lot throughout the dinner. It could also be Fiona, considering her cultish interests and all the full moon rituals usually tied to such beliefs. To spy or not to spy? Your hands trembled out of nervousness. It would be a shitty thing to do, especially since you just left your first impression on them, but you were going to interrupt them either way by entering, weren't you? Eye peeking through the keyhole, you squatted down and pressed your head onto the rotting door, hoping to draw out anything that others decided to gossip about.

Through the miniscule keyhole, you made out Eli's legs, crossed while he was sitting, and Demi's green skirt, waving around her legs as she nervously walked back and forth.

"Why did you decide to lie to them?" suddenly you heard Demi hiss, as if she had already suspected someone was spying on them.

"I had a reason, alright? Besides, we've only just met! To leave them hopeless and sad, just for them to realize they can't leave yet?" now you heard Eli cry, his usually stable, calm voice now on the verge of madness.

"You should had told them the truth! Imagine how they would feel as they looked for him, only to realize that all of their efforts were just a dead end. The harsh truth is always better than hopeful lies."

It can't be. What are the odds that they're talking about him?

"He's... alive. I know it. He must be somewhere out there." Eli's voice trembled again.

"Stop lying to yourself, Eli. He's dead. We all saw him lying on the ground, writhing in pain, unable to help him despite our attempts. We all saw the same sight." Demi suddenly sighed as she reached for a chair to sit down on. "Besides, you saw it in your visions, too. You saw those scales on his body piercing his skin as he bled out, you noticed only his face was blurred out out of the four of us, you saw them taking his place. Everything aligned perfectly."

"I don't want to believe the truth. I... want to change the future. I don't want to make the same mistake ever again." You heard Eli whimper, his hands reaching his face. "Tommorrow's the final game. I'm going to try my best to make things right. I don't want to lose ___ the way we lost Luchino."

Demi leaned over, her arms softly pulling Eli's shoulders into a hug.

It can't be true.

It possibly cannot be.

He cannot be dead.

But you heard them confirm - yet, at the same time, you didn't want to believe it.

Suddenly you weren't thirsty anymore. You headed back to your room, tears rolling down your cheeks.

God, if there was ever a moment where you simply needed to feel his presence near you, to just feel his breath on your neck and his arms around your waist, it was this one. Yet, it was so hard to imagine it again, knowing that he's probably a corpse somewhere out there.

It didn't matter. You already had a plan - tommorrow you'll find him, and bring him home - no matter if he's dead or alive.

You couldn't tell the time, nor did you know how long you've been walking. All you saw was Eli's blurry figure in front of you, leading you to the place where the "game" would commence. Tired and dazed, you tried your best to stay awake, struggling with each step into the mud. Your legs were feeling weak and numb, as if they could easily fall off your body if the wind was a bit stronger.

"How much longer, Eli? I simply cannot walk anymore!" Demi groaned from the back, struggling to balance herself in the moldable, soft dirt, to which Eli didn't reply.

He wasn't very talkative today - in fact, no one was. Fiona and Demi spared you a quick smile in the morning, but nothing more than that. It was a strange parade, the four of you heading to god-knows-where, gloomy and silent as if you're part of some odd, morbid carnival.

"We're here!" Eli suddenly yelled. Through the fog you made out water-soaked wooden planks and heated, warm antennas that were perched up above it, like stars in the cloudy night sky. The damp and overwhelming air now reached your nostrils - you recognized it, but from where exactly? The smell of the grass soaked by the rain haunted you from some other distant time, but you simply couldn't put your finger on it.

Eli now faced all three of you, nervously clenching his fist. "We're splitting up now. Just follow the lights and try to decode the machines that you'll find." He pointed at the antennas clouded by the fog. "I'm going this way, alone. Don't follow me! I'll be back at once, trust me!"

"But, Eli, you can't just-" Demi yelled, but Eli already ran into the fog, the gray veil blurring out his figure until he fully vanished.

Fiona sighed. "I guess we don't have any other option. Demi - you and I will head for those two machines on the west side. ___, could you take over this one?" She signaled at the machine positioned north, in the same direction where Eli went. You nodded. The way the game progressed made you more worried than it should.

Through the fog, you approached the clunky machine. It looked like a lion in a cage on display - it made beeping noises, it was shaking and the buttons seemed like they were pressing themselves - almost as if it was alive. Yet, as you felt the weight of the indented buttons go down with the press of your finger, your initial fear was fading. Sweat dripping down your forehead, you were arched over the typewriter-like box, wiping and rewriting lines and lines of crypted text. A few sudden, loud booms made you jump - Demi and Fiona probably finished decoding theirs. As you reached halfway, you suddenly heard a cry coming from up north.

Or was it an owl's howl?

Your legs were cemented in front of the machine. Just a few more lines of code and whatever those symbols were, and you could get out freely, reach Demi and Fiona and escape, but was there even enough time to borrow? A wave of guilt suddenly bit you from the inside of your stomach, but you simply couldn't waste another second.

Sweat froze on your bare skin, but you didn't care. You ran and ran as fast as you could, continuing even after tripping over sometimes. It was obvious this would go down badly from the start, but maybe this was destined to be. You couldn't change the future already engraved into the stars. Eli couldn't, either. But you wanted to do the impossible. As you moved through the fog, you realized you had nothing more to lose.

Panting and catching your breath, all you found was Eli's leather satchel lying in the grass, a few of Brooke's feathers loosely sticking onto its surface. Suddenly you found yourself tying it around your waist. There was no explanation you could make up on the spot, but it was a souvenir of sorts. It was a piece of him, in a way. Even if he wasn't physically here, you found comfort in the way his satchel pulled it's weight down your hip. It was a reminder that you're on a mission - to change what Eli couldn't, and to return what was lost.

"__!"

It was Demi's voice coming from behind you. She was out of breath, leaning on her knees for support.

"Demi! For god's sake, y- Do you know where Fiona and Eli are?" You rushed to help her recover her stamina.

"Was just about to ask you. Fiona disappeared right as she finished her cipher, and as for Eli... well, we're both looking for him right now, aren't we? Have you found any clues?" Her hand roamed her bucket, taking out a dusty glass bottle, filled to the brim with shiny red liquid. "Nope, except Eli's satchel." You tapped its damp, shiny surface lightly. "But other than that, there were no footprints, no signs of where he went."

Demi took a swig out of the bottle, then carelessly threw it back into the bucket. "Alright. Since both Eli and Fiona are gone, we have to devise a plan. Listen - I'm going to look for those two, maybe they got lost - and you'll be decoding that last cipher over there, okay? I can't focus on those puzzle-code-whatever thingies while I'm tipsy, but I sure can pack a punch if needed!" She grinned as she flexed her arm.

"Sounds good to me. Just take care, okay? And be careful!"

"No need to worry about me, sweetie. I'll be back before you even enter the last line of code!" She laughed, and her laugh echoed over and over as she melted into the fog again.

Well, shit. You were loomed over the damned machine again, the cipher still shaking and wriggling as if it's about to explode. Now as you thought about it, the game was about to end, and it was faster than you thought. It all depended on you and Demi - for her to find the remaining two, and for you to decipher that goddamned block of text and get you all out of here.

Click. Click.

First row done, five more remaining.

You felt the first droplet of sweat form on your forehead.

Click. Click.

Second row done, four more remaining.

Did the buttons suddenly stop cooperating? They felt heavier under your fingertips, some of them refusing to pop back after you pressed them.

Click. Click.

Third row done, three more remaining.

Was it this cold the entire time? The wind played with your hair as you continued typing.

Click. Click.

Fourth row done, two more remaining.

You thought of your teammates. Where could they be now? Demi promised to return before you finished the cipher, but there was nothing to hear except the swaying of leaves, nothing to see through the fog except the outlines of the wooden skeletons that could have been houses in some other life.

Click. Click.

Fifth row done, one more remaining.

Was that a hiss you just heard? Your mind is probably playing tricks with you, yet you still felt uneasy, your leg bouncing in case you need to un-freeze and get going.

Click. Click.

Gah, fuck.

Wrong code, back to row five.

You felt the hairs on your skin rise up as your already numb fingers ran over the keyboard. Must be cause of the cold.

Click. Click.

Sixth row done. Cipher machine finished.

The exit gates have been opened.

You jumped and ran along with the ear-piercing siren, not finding the courage to look back at what might had been hunting you the whole game.

Two eyes staring right back at you. The last thing you saw before you started to run. As you turned your back to them, you already felt them stripping off your clothes and tearing your flesh apart, toying with your mutilated body as they pleased. If I don't run as fast as possible, that might just be the best case scenario, you suddenly thought and picked up your pace.

You ran to the quickest shed you found and pressed yourself against the wet planks. It was the best shelter you could find at the moment, although it was also the most fragile one out there. One careless move and your cover will be blown completely. Your hand pressed itself on your mouth on its own - Is this really how it's going to end? Legs cemented into the ground, unable to make a move in fear you'll get caught? If your hands weren't already shaky, you'd pinch yourself in hope that it's was all just a bad dream.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to look behind. Now with a wooden shield against your back, perhaps you could stare down the predator from the thin, empty holes between the planks. Slowly, you tilted your head, the wetness of the wood brushing against your cheek. You didn't dare to completely turn around - it was too risky.

As you held onto the wall, fingers pale out of sheer force with which you held onto it, your gaze quickly flashed between the wooden frame, into the grayish cloud of icy, damp air.

Fatal mistake.

It only took a moment of inattention - you felt the skin of your chest ripping and the warmth of your own blood flowing down your body. As you gasped in shock, your eyes fixed themselves onto what poked through your pathetic little shelter and, in the end, your ribs - an enormous, clawed hand, searching around for whatever it stabbed in the first place. It could probably grip your whole neck with ease and turn your spine into dust with a strong enough grip. With your legs feeling like rubber, you sloppily leaped towards a tied up stack of planks set against a barrel. Trying to find some unreal source of energy from your worn out body, only one solution popped up in your mind - you pulled the stack with all your momentary might.

It was dizzying. A chain reaction ensued in your abdomen, as if something stabbed through your belly button from the inside of your body. You grabbed your stomach in vain, the blood leaking from your ribs already staining the cloth that was wrapped around your waist. Not enough power remained in your arms to support your weight and you simply crashed into the dewy grass, exhausted from fighting back.

"Please! Let me die a painless death!" You screamed at whatever was now looming over you and breathing into your neck. The only remaining option was to beg the two blurred, hellish orange orbs looking at you for mercy.

A second passed. Then another.

Your heart was still beating. The creature's heavy breathing still filled up your ears, yet you didn't dare to face it again. It leaned forward, scraping your wrist with its claws - no, grabbing something from your sleeve? You slowly opened your eyes.

It gazed at the same picture you cherished and held close to your chest each night.

As the monster's eyes fixated themselves on the two blurry faces, you heard a low hiss slipping from it's jaw. You could recognize that husky voice from miles and miles afar.

"____?"

"...Luchino?"

You couldn't believe your eyes. Yet, as you inspected the lizard-man looming over your body, you realized it really was him - the raggedy brownish-red hair rolling down the sides of his neck, the collared shirt slightly ripped at the seams - but god, what has he become? The soft surface of his big, veiny hands was now replaced by menacing claws that could rip you apart if he got careless enough.

"____! So it really is you I'm seeing! I'm so glad!" Luchino sighed in relief as he got on his knees in front of you. "I'm so sorry that you have to see me like this..."

"Luchino.. is this really you? What happened?" You murmured, reaching for his scaled face. The tension in your body disappeared the second you heard his voice seep from his mouth - he seemed less menacing, even cute in a way.

"Huh? You don't remember?" He leaned his face into your palm. It almost felt natural, the way your hand slowly cupped his cheek.

"No...I just... I don't remember what happened very well that night you disappeared. Are you hurt?" You whispered.

He sighed. "...It's a long story, darling. A story for another time. Don't worry about me - are you hurt?" His claws stroked the thick bandages that were tightly wrapped around your waist, now soaked with blood. "Ah, these wounds... I'm so sorry. It's all my fault." He looked away in shame. "I lost control of myself after that - well, transformation - thing and just... let myself get controlled by my animalistic instincts." As he got lower and lower, he slowly laid his head on your chest. "I never wanted to hurt you. I'll never forgive myself for making you bleed."

"Luchino..." you mumbled out as your arms wrapped around his neck. "Please. It's fine, trust me, I'm doing better now..."

"It's not fine." He suddenly yelped, making you jolt. "I can't excuse doing such an awful thing. Especially since it was you I hurt." His fingers intertwined with yours. "I'll get us out of here, tesoro. I'll make sure that no one - including me - lays another finger on you."

He picked up your fragile body from the grass that you laid in. "One day, angel, I'll find a way to return back to normal - and I'll be the man you once knew again."

You clenched the fabric rippling over his chest. "You were always the same man, Luchi. No scales or fangs will change the way you love, the way you tighten your grip whenever you hold me in your arms and the way you whisper sweet nothings into my ear."

He chuckled and softly pressed his mouth onto your forehead. He still kissed you with the same warmth he once did, the heat lingering as he moved his head away.

"I love you, vita mia."

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her-devils-advocate · 11 months

Text

Snippets from a domestic summer. (Part 1)

♥. Genre: Fluff

♥. pairings: Nate Sewell / Female Detective (Named)

♥. content warnings: None

♥. notes: I have really been wanting to do a small-ish fic where its just Nate and my detective having purple tongues, despite having a red and blue iced slushy to themselves.

♥. Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47590726/chapters/119943328

♥. Word count: 1,644

Nate and Valerie walk hand in hand, the midday sun glaring down on them as the birds overhead swoop and soar, doing their best to scout for lunch that could be plucked out of the hands of an unexpecting victim.

The gentle breeze catches the ends of his dark hair, now much longer than when she had first met him, causing the styled back strands to flutter behind him. Further convincing her that he would make a more than decent supermodel if he were to ever get bored of the agent life. Her own hair behaving far less well in the breeze, the strands which had broken loose from her braid are now flying around her face far less gracefully than she would like. She can only hope that the olive green summer dress, which had been dragged out from the dark corner of her wardrobe, has more decorum.

The duo slowly make their way to Haley's bakery, eager to try the new summer menu that she had been excitedly discussing all spring. The two of them needed very little convincing to try her new line of slushies, anything to get some relief after a day braving the unusually high temperatures overtaking Wayhaven as of late, something Mason had yet to stop grumbling about from the safety of the darkest and coldest shadow in the warehouse.

"How are you holding up?" She tilts her head up to look him over, checking for any signs of discomfort, only to be met with a smile so bright that it could put the sun to shame.

"I'm alright, very hot but it's worth the time spent if it means I get to be in your company." He smirks down at her before a serious expression takes over his features. "Though I'm more worried about you getting burnt. You didn't put on any sun cream before we left."

"I'll be fine, we’re almost there so we won't be out here for much longer! By the time we start heading back home to the warehouse, it will be much cooler." She gives a light-hearted roll of her eyes at his worry, missing the way he beams down at her, pure adoration shining in his eyes.

"You said 'home'."

Her face grows hot, hoping that it isn’t too late to take her words back and blame the growing blush on a sunburn.

"I guess I did say that, didn’t I? It would make sense that I consider that place a home now, especially with how often I'm there and all."

“It warms my heart to hear that.” He brings their joined hands to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the back of hers before dropping them once more in favour of swinging them as they walk, earning him multiple giggles from the woman beside him as he does.

They fall into a comfortable quiet as they finish the journey to the bakery, making sure to walk within the cool shade whenever they get the chance. The closer they get, the stronger the enticing scent of freshly baked bread becomes as it flows out to greet them.

The small bell above the door chimes as Nate opens it, gesturing for Val to enter first with a grin. As they enter the brightly lit bakery, the duo is instantly greeted by the ever cheerful Haley, watching them with a fond, knowing smile.

“Good evening Val, Agent Sewell! Here to try my newest menu?” Her light voice glides through the stifling heat, earning her a small wave from the detective.

“Hey Haley, when we heard that those slushies were finally available, we found it hard to stay away. Especially before we melted under that sun!”

Haley chuckles as she takes their orders, one strawberry and one blueberry. She lingers in front of the fan carefully perched upon a stool behind the counter for a moment before moving to make the drinks, humming a bright tune as she does.

While waiting for the order, Nate idly plays with Val’s hands. He traces light patterns upon the backs of them before his hand begins to wander up her arms, causing a flurry of chills to shoot throughout her as she gently swats at his own arm.

They collect their drinks, giving their thanks to Haley as they reluctantly leave their own spot within the fans' range, mentally preparing themselves to brave the sun once more.

“At least we now have something to help cool us down.” As if to emphasise her point, Val stops sipping at her strawberry flavoured slushy in favour of pressing it against her forehead, sighing as the cold temperature brings relief to her burning skin.

Nate, on the other hand, is much more focused on the way the condensation of the drink slides onto her skin, before travelling down her cheek and dropping to continue its journey across her neck. His eyes narrow onto the rogue drop of water as he takes a sip of his own blueberry slushy, hoping to distract himself from the urge to kiss it away.

Noticing the intense gaze aimed towards her, she flashes him a playful smirk before joining their hands together once more. Dragging him back in the direction of the warehouse before the others send out a search party to ruin their fun, under the guise of not wanting them to forget about the “very important” meeting taking place that evening with Agent Michaelis.

By the time they reach the forest where the team resides within, the scorching sun had begun to set, letting the temperature cool as their drinks begin to grow warm. With a sad sigh, Val wiggles her straw around, trying to find remnants of ice within the bright red liquid as she looks up at him with a faux pout.

“It melted…”

“Yes, love. Ice tends to do that.” He tries to stifle a chuckle as he takes another sip of his drink, grimacing at the much warmer temperature which brings out the artificial flavouring that the ice had masked.

Abandoning his drink, he smirks down at her as an idea crosses his mind. He slowly backs her up against a tree as she raises an eyebrow up at him, happily following his lead. Part curious, part excited by the look that had been shining within his eyes the moment they had left the bakery.

Before she gets the chance to open her mouth to question him, he pulls her close, trailing soft kisses across her jaw, prompting a breathy laugh from the woman as his light stubble tickles her in the process. He raises his arms to wrap around her as she melts into his touch with a sigh. With one slender finger, he tilts her head up so that his lips could finally meet hers.

His free hand rests dangerously low on her back as she moans into the kiss, bringing her own hand to tangle within his hair and granting him access as his tongue collides with hers, sending a shockingly strong flutter to her heart, a flutter she will never get used to, no matter how many kisses they share.

He hums against her as she tries to press herself even closer to him, only to reluctantly pull away as their phones both begin to buzz within his pockets. Not even needing to check the messages to know the contents and their sender.

Val rises onto the tips of her toes with a chuckle, carefully stroking back his soft strands of hair which she had caused to become dishevelled, trying to gain some composure herself before they attend the meeting that they were now fashionably late for.

Unit Bravo are scattered around the living room, Mason impatiently tapping at his phone while Adam continues to glare at the door, as if it could summon the tardy members. Felix begins to whistle a cheerful tune, only to be silenced by the flying pillow sent his way by the less-than-thrilled Mason, his phone abandoned as his lighter takes its place within his hands.

Rebecca lets out a long sigh before turning to the Unit Leader, her eyebrows pulling together as she checks her watch. Before she gets the chance to comment on the time, the door swings open.

“About fucking time.” Mason huffs, tendrils of smoke punctuating his annoyance as he does.

The couple both flash the group an apologetic smile before Val turns to playfully stick her tongue out at Mason, earning her a scoff of laughter from the vampire and an eye roll from Rebecca, less than amused by her daughter's behaviour as she tries to ignore the growing nostalgia that the sight causes. Adam bristles for a moment, glancing warily between the pair as Felix’s natural smile grows into a full blown smirk.

He slides up between the two, throwing his arms over their shoulders as he looks down at the drinks in their hands, ignoring the confused glances being thrown at him from around the room.

“Sooo…wanna explain why your tongue is purple despite the red drink in your hand, Val?”

The room falls silent, all eyes falling onto the trio still standing in the doorway as Nate shoots Felix a pleading look, hoping to silence any more highly unneeded comments made at their expense. Not caring for his pleas, Mason takes advantage of the silence before Felix has the chance.

“Looks like it pairs perfectly with the blue drink in Nate’s hand.” He shrugs half-heartedly at them. “Doesn’t take much to figure out the reason for your lateness.”

Two, perfectly matching exasperated sighs interrupt any further comments as Rebecca loudly drops the files onto the dark wood of the coffee table, a frown on her face despite the amusement that shines in her icy blue eyes. “Now that we are all here, can we please get on with the meeting?”

#♥. writing #♥. Valerie #twc #the wayhaven chronicles #nate sewell #detective x nate #female detective x nate #twc mason #twc felix #twc adam #unit bravo

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kbxyn · 1 year

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OH, I WANNA HAVE HIM BESIDE ME ON THE 25TH — KATSUKI BAKUGO (652 w.c)

SYNOPSIS — a teaser for an upcoming december series i'm working on; it's the first day of december and you and your lovely boyfriend decide to decorate for christmas around your apartment, when he gets a certain call and you have to talk to him about a few things

CONTENT — being left on a cliffhanger, cheesy lovers, romance, christmas talk, suspension, talking about the future, the both of you love the holiday season in this context

"katsuki! can you help me put the stickers on the window up top?" you called out to your blonde ball of firey passion who was oh so comfortably in the kitchen with your matching christmas pajamas brewing up some hot chocolate for the both of you as he hears your voice and gets pulled out of his little humming trance. "yes bitch? could i get a 'please' with that by any chance?" he asked, placing your mugs down on the counter to walk over to you and the window before picking up some of the stickers and glancing to you. "seriously, babe, what's the matter? i thought you loved this time of year. it's the first day of your favorite month, lighten up." he muttered with a small shake of his head. you frowned and put a hand on his head, ruffling his hair as he worked on the window, "katsuki i do love this time of year, you know i do. but i just have this feeling in my stomach that something might come up and get between us you know? i don't know how to explain it but i'm sure it's just me thinking too much into things. should the snowflake go in the middle or off to the side?" you asked as you swung yourself into his arms. he chuckled at your recent action before focusing back on the window and sighing happily. "what are you talking about baby? i already put them all up, see." he announced proudly as you hazily gazed at him. "it looks lovely, katsuki. you still have those tickets for the ice skating rink right? today's a perfect day to go." you said, snapping out of your overthinking funk to hop out of his arms just to toddle off to fetch both of your skates. katsuki nodded in agreement, while you happily fixed up your skates he went to finish up your drinks and once he was finished he wrapped your cup up in a small towel to keep it from burning your hand as he handed it to you. you put the skates down and took a sip in sync with him, after your sip you put the drinks back down onto the table and shared a passionate kiss which got broken when katsuki's phone loudly rang from across the room. "i'm sorry, let me go see who this asshole is so i can put my boot up their ass for interrupting us. especially on my day off." he said, rolling his eyes as he swiped his phone and put the phone to his ear. you both sat there for a minute on the sofa, silence only being broken whenever katsuki would tiredly say "yeah" or "mhm" or something like that until he hung up the phone and sunk into where he was sitting. "babe, please don't be upset when i tell you this but they're trying to put me to work during christmas." he said, making you place your hand on his chest and sigh. "seriously..? why can't we ever have any holidays together?" you asked, cuddling into him as he rubbed your forehead with his thumb. "it'll be okay sweetheart, don't worry." katsuki said as he picked you up in his arms after standing up. he took you to your shared bedroom and placed you on the bed where you sighed and laid yourself in the middle. "katsi, i really wanna be with you on christmas. just please, can i maybe ask them? i'll just ask if you can at least take the 24th off, they can have someone else fill in for you i'm sure! i just wanna spend the 25th with you." you begged, katsuki ended up sitting next to you and rubbing your stomach while you rambled. "baby, why don't we go for a walk and save the skating for another day? we should talk about some things.."

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poisonouswritings · 2 years

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Hey man I was wondering if you could write about the main 4 (and maybe balsam Lucan and saaros) reacting to an mc during their periods where they get a lot of mood swings? Happy, sad, hella horny, all that stuff? As explicit as you're okay with. Ty :)

I can always tell when my period is coming because a day or two before I'm filled with insurmountable rage and hatred whenever anyone speaks around me. Like it's not the actual words it's literally the sound of voices. It might also be a sensory thing idk all I know is it's a warning sign that's never failed.

AFAB GN!Reader, exaggerated mood swings because it's funnier that way, not separated by character, Colored Bullet Rule (Felix, Anisa, Sage, Rime, Saaros, Lucan, Balsam), mentions of NSFW content that I will toss below the cut, I would be more explicit but I don't wanna weird people out?? Idk maybe as I do more NSFW reqs I'll get more brave

You're not feeling great so Anisa takes you out to get ice cream and then a child bumps into you and spills your ice cream and Anisa has to hold you back before you punt the kid

Does anyone else have comfort shows/movies they watch? Let's be real we're on Tumblr y'all totally do. You're trying to explain the plot of one to Lucan and you start crying because you really wanna watch it right now but you can't because, y'know, Astraea. Lucan very quickly makes (really bad) sock puppets and gets Sage and Balsam to help him try and recreate whatever it is you want to watch. They try their best and that's what counts.

So imagine,,, Saaros knows you're on your period (you probably complained about it coming up or whatever) and they went to Azimuth to ask for some future-sight help and Az just kinda grins. Saaros is going into this blind. You spend like ten minutes super happily and excitedly babbling on about something and Saaros thinks Hey Maybe They Can Handle This!!! And you guys are talking and they say something totally innocuous. And then out of literally nowhere you're completely silent and glaring and just generally Pissed™ and they're like Oh. Okay. Uh. And then three minutes later you're hugging their arm and being really clingy and like What Do They Do About This.

You're playing with Stella and messing around as Felix does some experiments,, like you're laughing and having fun right? And then two seconds later you're sprawled out on the ground contemplating your death while Stella walks all over your back and Felix is just getting a little bit of whiplash

You and Sage are out at the bar and at first Sage attributes your mood swings to being drunk! But uh! You throw your still-full drunk at someone who was talking too loudly! And now Sage is having to diffuse a fight (which is very unfamiliar for him) while you're going all Feral Gremlin™ over there.

You and Balsam are fucking around and having a pillow fight and he hits you in the face and you start crying and he's like !!!! Oh Fuck Oh No Oh Shit Are You Okay Fuck Did He Hit You Too Hard Do You Need A Healer Fuck He's So Sorry !!!!!! And anyways it takes like twenty minutes for you to calm down enough to tell him you're fine and the entire time he's freaking out. You tearily call him an asshole and he's like 'I Know I Am I'm Sorry' ;A; someone help him

Rime is having a self-loathing day and at first you're trying to cheer him up but then you get hit by a hard bout of self-loathing and now he's trying to cheer you up and you're both just suffering while trying to help each other.

Saaros is barely speaking because they don't want to upset you but then you take their silence as them being mad at you so you start getting sad and crying and they're just like What The Fuck Do I Do About This Oh Stars Oh God and they're just panicking because Why The Fuck Didn't Azimuth Tell Them How To Handle This

It's because Azimuth thought it would be funnier and they were fuckin right

Sage thinks tickling you will make you laugh!!! Unfortunately he did it in one of your Rage Swings and you kick him in the crotch. Now he's on the floor in pain and you're half trying to help him and half snickering

Someone calls you a 'bitch on the rag' and now you're having to restrain Anisa from getting into a fight. Bonus points if she's on her period at the same time.

No that being said your period syncs up with Anisa's and you guys are just wreaking havoc e v e r y w h e r e because even though your cycles synced up your mood swings very much have not!! Rime makes a joke that makes you cry and Anisa threatens to snap his horns off. Everyone gives you two a wide berth for the next week.

Rime gets you an ice pack (or uses his ice magic) and he's rubbing your back a little because you're in pain and it's in his forgotten nature to help and,, you start crying because you're so overwhelmed with affection for him and he thinks he hurt you somehow and he's trying to figure out what happened and how he can help fix it and you're just curled into a ball and sobbing

Okay so I know I make jokes about 'calling myself out' and whatever but I have to ask, does anyone else get into like,, more intense kinks when they're on their period? Idk how else to describe it

Anyways who would have sex with you while you're on your period? I do agree we should de-stigmatize and de-gross-ify periods but I also think not everyone is gonna be down with having bloody sex. Y'know who would be tho? The Griefers. And probably also Rime.

Okay so we've canonically established that ilephtas are inhumanely warm so all of the Griefers would be like heating pads and that would be really nice :3 very warm and comfy and cuddly. and Rime is an ice pack so that would also be nice :3

That being said I don't think Anisa or Felix would ignore you or anything!

Honestly I'm not sure about Saaros,,, they kinda give me ace vibes so,,,

You're out at the bar with Sage and you guys are flirting and you start to climb onto his lap because You Don't Give A Shit and he has to stop you (and this might be one of those times you guys fuck in an alley I really don't know if either of you could make it back to Fathom sorry). That being said I also think that uh,,, listen I'm a big advocate for Cat!Sage and I think that in the days before (aka during your ovulation) he would subconsciously smell something is up with your hormones or whatever and I think he'd be extra horni during that time so like. Fun.

Lucan would be so soft cause he doesn't wanna hurt you :( and then you tell him to go harder and he's like :( Are You Sure :( and honestly you might have to top because he's just too worried about you to go harder. Also I think he just likes you on top!! Would be willing to do whatever you're in the mood for as long as it doesn't hurt you, because he's also a little worried that you're so horny you're not thinking straight and you might regret it later. That fear probably subsides the longer you're together.

Oh Balsam would have no problem going harder and getting kinky. He is like a bull seeing red (hahahaha i'm so fucking funny). I would recommend you get a safe word!! I would also recommend you have a lot of hydration on hand. But after the kinky sex, I think he'd be really sweet with aftercare!! Carries you to the shower/bath if you need it and smooches you a lot. Tells a lot of dumb jokes and shit too, because he's a nerd like that.

Rime is gonna be somewhere in the middle. He won't indulge all your requests because he knows it'll hurt you after, but he does go along with some of them. I think if you're into dirty talk or degradation he'd definitely go along with that. He just keeps it easy physically speaking. Makes you beg a lot probably. Aww little baby is so desperate huh :( better fucking prove it

What a dick

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beeblackburn · 1 year

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1, 6, 22 and 31 for the asks? 💖

Thank you, @xserpx!

1. Who is/are your comfort character(s)?

I mean... I'm not sure most of the characters I read/watch are comfort ones in that sense, I think?

FitzChivalry Farseer (Realm of the Elderlings) - He's so stupid, it's almost hilarious. Like, he's a mess, he's a right mess, but I've always found something familiar and comforting in how Fitz navigates his depression, his repressed feelings that spill out into cathartic rage, and yeah, his total fuck-ups, but is capable of still having loved ones, making up for his mistakes, and having a semblance of a life. I don't know, as a fellow depressed person, Fitz gives me a strange hope that life isn't irreversibly broken, no matter the circumstances, even if Hobb's too good a writer to promise an utter happily-ever-after for us.

Stannis Baratheon (A Song of Ice and Fire) - He's also really stupid. This fucking lobster king, so pedantic, teeth-grinding, grudge-gnawing, snappish, and socially awkward. There's a lot of good reasons I latched onto this fool in my teenage years and still find a familiarity to him. That being said, I've always found the man comforting in how... solid he is, past the surface. He's all the above, but he rewards good service, he tries to grow past his grievances, he puts in the work and isn't happy to do it, but he grinds his teeth because someone has to do it. He's a source of stability in an increasingly chaotic narrative.

Sansa Stark (A Song of Ice and Fire) - She used to be so innocent in her outlook, just a child increasingly swept up in the storm of a dark fantasy world's chaos, constantly told she's stupid and foolish for believing in better, and refusing to stoop down to it, despite a Rogues' Gallery of mentors trying to corrupt her towards moral darkness. I'll always take solace in how she keeps such hope and idealism, naïve at first, then fiercely held onto, despite most things that gave her joy now give her nightmares and horrors, still keeping in her heart, All the stories can't be lies.

Legosi (Beastars) - I think it's partly how much I can read neurodivergence in him, but there's some deeply familiar with how much Legosi is a deeply introverted weirdo in his own right. He has his little quirks, he loves to read tragedies, he's got an uncomfortable relationship with his body and self and urges, he fucks up in small and tremendous socially awkward ways, all of which I latch onto. Yet, he is always sincere, he tries to be kindly and meet anyone halfway, even if he's scary and weird by society's definition, and even gets to live a content life after dropping out of high school, as a service worker who enjoys getting to know more experiences past a more societally-acceptable course.

Crown Prince Orso (The Age of Madness) - Yes, even with that trilogy ending. Like, it's Orso! Whenever I read his chapters, I just know I'm in for some depressed thoughts, wry, self-deprecating humor, and him to acknowledge he knows nothing, but by god, he'll try his best. In a world full of traitors, cutthroats, and tyrants, Orso's mostly just a nice, depressed dude who wants to do the right thing, treats those he cherishes with all the affection through the haze of depression, and maybe have a drink or drugs along the way, refreshingly so.

6. Why did you do that?

Honestly, because she probably needed the money more than me, and someone else could also watch really gnarly, sicko movies.

22. What type of person are you?

I mean... a self-deprecating, self-centered, hot-tempered, perfectionistic, paranoid, stubborn, spiteful, envious, petty, grumpy, needy, lazy, and depressed basket case of a person.

On the other hand, I do try to be non-judgmental, thoughtful, generous, curious, loyal, and kind, so.

31. What type of music keeps you grounded?

Judging from my soundcloud's liked songs, I'm drawn to future bass type songs to keep me in that specifically grounded feeling. I've got plenty others I listen to, but a good chunk of songs are meant to give me some ambient noise or enliven me a little in mood.

#weird asks

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owls-den · 2 years

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Some Best Wishes HC of mine (mostly in relation with my coordinator!trip fanfic)

Hope you all are doing well!

So, over the years I've gotten quite the list of headcanons for Best Wishes (mostly for Trip because... I'm kind of a Trip simp and always have been). I'll try to write as many as I can think of in this post but first, thought I'd share some other art I made of Trip in another one of his possible coordinator outfits because I like to design those way too much.

Every day, I wake up, and I think about him. You just KNOW he was dragged all the way to the tailor by Georgia and Burgundy, complained the whole way through, and then looked absolutely stunning on stage. Now he's matching with his Serperior :)) (not exactly the proudest with this design, could be better, but hey I have all the time in the world to redraw if need be cause the brain rot ain't going away >:)))

Anyways! So here are some very quick hc of mine (mostly related to my fic and I'll add content as I go):

Bianca and Trip are childhood friends. Since Trip is quite inspired by Cheren (and Cheren in Best Wishes has seemingly no relationship with Bianca), I'm going to say that the two of them grew up together. However, Cheren and Bianca remained friends despite their very different personalities because of the presence of the MC so without them, I think Trip grew up to find Bianca obnoxious and distanced himself from her. She tries to rekindle friendship whenever she can but it's often returned with hostility. Her making it farther than him in the league and also her getting a job under Prof.Juniper right away makes him INCREDIBLY bitter.

Trip comes from a quite wealthy family (not exactly rich but high middle class) and his parents are not home often. He doesn't hear much at all from his mom but his dad does try to stay in contact. The two don't see eye to eye most of the time unfortunately. I think Trip tries often to call for their attention and contacted his father before the league to let him know to at least watch tv when he'll pass but he got eliminated before his dad could see him on air. F.

Georgia and Burgundy are 100% besties. Their relationship might have started as a bit rocky but after the Junior Cup, they both shared their numbers and started hanging out a lot. They don't exactly share the same interests and still like to make snide remarks at times, but they try out each other's hobbies (Burgundy drags Georgia to different expensive restaurants, Georgia goes to watch an action movie with Burgundy...) and in the end, they really grew to be extremely close. I like to think what really drew them together in the first place was their love of gossiping about their respective rivals.

I hc that Georgia became one of Brycen's students after the Junior Cup. What I mean by that is that she sought more understanding of ice types to become a greater Dragonbuster and asked Brycen to train her. He agreed and he mostly taught her martial arts in tough weather conditions. For this reason, whenever she joins Burgundy into Pokemon Contests, she wears her training outfit which is extremely similar to Brycen's outfit.

I haven't yet decided something: Trip wearing both a hoodie and a jacket. Either: -> The hoodie is sleeveless and thus it makes sense to wear a jacket on top -> Trip is always intensely cold and needs all those layers. -> It's a fashion statement. In any case it leads me to the following

Trip has a terrible sense of fashion. I'm sorry but what is that color scheme son. Like I love you Trip, but I cannot let that go. Burgundy will go through his wardrobe and faint. But not just that, he doesn't know how to arrange his clothes to make it look good. During his first contest, he wears a black very plain suit (that is totally not his size) and leaves the jacket open and the tie out. He literally has NO FORM, this makes him look like a s t i c k.

Burgundy always wanted to be a Pokemon Coordinator and only became a Pokemon Connoisseur out of spite. After the league passes and everything, while hanging out with Georgia, she might realize that she feels way happier now that she's not thinking about Cilan or continuing her studies as a Pokemon Connoisseur. She has no interest in going to school for more time so she was wondering what she wanted to do with her life. And then, lo and behold, she found some posters talking about Pokemon Contests being brought to Unova and this enighted something inside her that she believed to be long gone.

Alder was more of a father figure to Trip than his actual father ever was. Trip, very young, started watching Alder's fights on TV, never missing any matches, and meeting him was the highlight of his life. That's why he really hung onto the words Alder told him after all those years and also why he was so distraught to hear him misremember his name or just, outright, not remember what he told him. He hero worshipped him for years, putting him on a pedestal he obviously could never live up to.

Trip went to a school to learn as much as possible about Pokemons before starting his journey. I just feel like his "returning back to the basics" line is rooted somewhere and knowing how studious Cheren was (and how he went to literally build a gym/school for trainers) well it makes me come to this conclusion.

Burgundy saw what she saw in her flashback. Yes, I'm with Burgundy on that one and I think that no one would start an entire career on nothing. She genuinely was treated poorly by Cilan and his brothers and this hurt her quite poorly. Her resentment towards them is what fueled her to become snotty and arrogant in their presence and... well now that she's been away from them for a long time, she realized that she has become a way better person. Cilan really brings the worst out of her unfortunately. (I want to note I have nothing against these three, I just really like the theory that they're part of Team Plasma. They're cool :))

Trip is naturally short. Like I personally have hc ages for everyone to age them all up to be between 15 and 25 and Trip, even at 16, is around less than 165cm. Because we stan a short king.

Trip has no muscles whatsoever. This man does walk a bunch of course for his travels but unlike Ash, he never trains alongside his pokemons and I absolutely imagine him taking the train to go faster during his travels because he is w e a k. He has absolutely no stamina whatsoever and if he starts running, he'll start huffing and puffing in about ten seconds.

Alright! Those are all the ones I can think of off of the top of my head. I also wrote some time ago what I envisioned to be a "better" character arc for Trip to go through during the actual series but I'll put that in another post, this is already pretty long.

Don't hesitate to ask if you have any question about a hc of mine or anything really :)) Always a pleasure to read y'all!

#pokemon coordinator #pokeani #pokemon #pokemon anime #youtube #pokemon best wishes #trip #pokemon trip #rival trip #pokemon georgia #pokemon burgundy #pokemon cabernet #pokemon hc #hc #pokemon bw #pokemon art #pokemon fanart #owl does art #owl rants

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casspurrjoybellbittner · 3 months

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Wreckless - Pizza and Ice Cube Trays

*Warning Adult Content*

Emmett

Part of me is worried that I went too far but he came so hard he practically took my cock off.

For a second I wasn't sure he would let me have it back.

Granted, I was coming so hard that I didn't really care.

His eyes are still damp and I wipe away a tear that's near the corner of his eye.

Him crying did something to me, a lot of things to me.

I'm still trying to process.

I need to get him off of this hard floor and cleaned up.

It's a good place to start.

I run my hand down his back and squeeze his ass gently.

"You must miss me. I bet your ass is begging to be filled right now, isn't it?"

"It is, Emmett. How did you know? I feel so empty," his voice sounds happy but also very far away.

"I want you to pay attention to that feeling Finn. You miss me but you feel good, don't you? That's because you needed to be fucked and you got fucked properly, by a man. Enjoy it, this is your reward for making me feel good."

"I'm glad I made you feel good, Emmett but I don't wanna do it again."

'Yeah, right.'

"Too bad, you're already becoming a little slut, MY little slut and you're going to need it. You're going to need to feel this way, baby boy, you'll need me to hurt you. You'll learn eventually and I don't mind reminding you over and over again if I need to. Now, let's get up and get you cleaned up. You're filthy, you're a filthy little slut."

He's grinning.

"Hmm. I am, aren't I? I like this part,.I like after but I still don't wanna do it again."

"I don't care."

I help him up and he wobbles a bit, takes a deep breath and then seems more steady.

"Damn, you fucked me so good, Emmett."

I kiss him, hard at first but then gently, working over and leaving little kisses on the side of his mouth, down his jaw and under his ear.

"So nice" he whispers.

"It's giving me chills."

"You need a warm bath and you're gaping open so nice that you'll get clean."

He looks at me then, his eyes wide... does he think I'm kidding?

"You can look. You should know what your hole looks like after it's been used properly."

He may not want to get stretched out much and I have no need to turn him inside out or be able to see his tonsils but I happen to love a winking, well used hole.

I love watching one try to close after I've fucked it.

I want to slip a finger inside to show him but after what he took I don't dare.

He's going to be sore although hopefully the plugs helped a lot.

I'll have to ask him tomorrow.

I start the bath water, dump in some bubble bath and hand him a little mirror.

"I'll be right back to help you get in."

I need to gather the toys and get them into the sink and try to put the living room back together enough that we can sit down at least.

Most importantly, I need to do all of that quickly so I can get back in there and take care of Finnegan.

Being a 'Dom' is hard work but I love every second of it.

"Okay, I'll wait for you."

He's testing the water when I come back in and I wonder if he snuck a peek at himself.

"How is it?"

"Good. Can I get in?"

I hold onto him as he steps in and then relax once he's settled.

"Oh that's nice. Emm?"

"Yes?"

"That was amazing."

'Thank God.'

"Good. You deserved it, darling. Is that what you wanted tonight?"

"Wanted and needed. You're so good to me, thank you. It feels weird thanking you for that because I'm still a little bit there, in my head, but I hope you know that it was perfect. I loved every second of it. I just want to veg and let my brain shut down, is that okay?"

"Of course. I won't worry now that you've told me you're okay. We can have an easy night, I'll tuck you in whenever you're tired and read your story."

"You can take my picture tonight, if you want. I know I won but I don't mind, I trust you."

That came out of nowhere but it could not be more perfect.

"I would love that. I'd love to have a picture of you well-fucked and in my bed. Especially tonight, I'll always remember when I took it and it will mean a lot to me."

"You're sweet to me. Pick me out some undies."

"Will do."

If the Batman undies are here I will definitely pick those because they were the first ones I saw.

Breaking through that wall made all of this possible.

It's hard to believe that was just a few, short weeks ago.

Right this instant I'm having a hard time remembering what my life was like before him and I definitely can't imagine what will happen once he's gone.

I need to stop, thinking about it will do no good... they're here.

I grab them and take them into the bathroom with me.

As soon as I sit back down I realize that I'm starving.

I think I was too busy to realize until now but we didn't actually have dinner.

That needs to happen next, I think tonight calls for pizza.

"Do you want pizza, Finn?"

His eyes light up.

"Yes, please."

Not the healthiest meals today but I'll do better tomorrow.

"You're spending the night here, right?"

"Hmm."

"Good. I enjoy sleeping with you."

"And waking up with me," Finnegan adds.

"Of course but feel free to take tomorrow off, darling."

"When are you going to realize that I'm doing it for me? I mean, I love that you enjoy it but I need it, Emmett. It's a wonderful way to wake up, especially the vibrator, that was so fun."

He stretches his arms up over his head.

"Not sure how I survived for so long without having your cum for breakfast. Hey, can you get a test done?"

A test? Ohh.

"I can, had one in February though and haven't been with anyone but you since then."

That's sad, maybe I shouldn't have admitted that.

"I was thinking, well you mentioned shooting my own cum up my ass which sounds kinky and crazy and something I'd definitely like to try once but I'd much prefer yours, I think. I've never barebacked and I should probably think about this when I'm more clear-headed but, well it sounds really good, Emmett."

Getting to actually seed his ass?

That's the shit that daydreams are made of and wet dreams.

"I knew a guy, said he jacked off into an ice cube tray. Then he'd stick them all up his ass and fuck himself using his own cum as lube."

"You know some crazy people, Emmett."

"You meet all kinds in the army. I sort of believe him because he told us not to use the regular trays, to find the ones that make smaller, round cubes and to cover it or they'd get freezer burn. Sorry, I'm rambling."

"No, please, continue. I've learned a lot this week."

"I'm destroying your innocence and I should stop. I sort of like it, it's endearing, and I think I've taken enough of it for one evening. Besides, we need to get you dressed before the pizza arrives."

He hops up quicker than I expect and I wrap him up in a towel and then help him step into his undies.

"I'm glad you're keeping track of things, I can barely remember my own name tonight."

"That's okay, that's what I'm here for."

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kessicasrps · 2 years

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I looked back at you with dark eyes when you stood in between us and you stopped me, my body continuing to shake and my jaw set in a hard line. I took a deep breath before finally relaxing just slightly, focusing on you and listening to your words. I knew that you were right and if I killed him, I would be leaving you again and that was the last thing that I wanted. I stay close to you as you spoke to him, my other arm wrapping around your waist as I kept you close to me in case he tried anything again. I was relieved to hear you stand up for yourself. I glared at him, glad that he finally left and I finally let out a deep breath once he was gone. I lean my forehead up against yours, wiping your tears away. "Of course I forgive you. You have nothing to be sorry about. You were right to be wary of me.. But more importantly, are you alright? Do you need some ice?," I ask you, placing my hands on either side of your face. "I am so goddamn sorry that this is what has been going on while I was away.. I have a surprise for you then but I want to make sure you are better before I show you. It's always been you, too, Jessica. You are the only woman I have ever loved and could ever love.. I want to give you everything."

---

I looked you in the eyes when hearing you ask if I was okay. I chuckled softly as I looked at you. "You're asking me if I'm okay when you're the one who is bruising more than I am?" I giggled softly while running my fingers through your hair. "I think you're the one that needs ice," I blushed as I looked you in the eyes again. "I love you, and you're staying here tonight." I tell you as I smiled at you. "You can show me your surprise later, right now, I just want to take care of you like you did with me," I say honestly. "And it's not your fault about how Andrew was treating me. That had nothing to do with you," I say softly. "But he did bust up your face pretty bad," I say as I bit my lip nervously. "And what you told Andrew was right, I never really loved him but I could never love him the way I love you," I say honestly. "You were my best friend first, and my boyfriend second, we never rushed into anything. We've always had a real connection," I spoke softly. "I never had that with him. I was just trying to fill the void of being alone because I thought you weren't coming back, but I should have never doubted you." I say softly. "But for now, I'm taking care of you tonight, and you don't get to fight me over it." I chuckled softly. "I want you to go lay in bed while I get some ice for your bruises, because something tells me you're not only bruised on your face,"

I giggle happily when you kissed all over my face. I lay back on our bed before pulling you on top of me. I stare lovingly up into your eyes, stroking your cheek gently with my thumb. "I just love that now we get to go to all our events together, as a couple. I don't have to stress about if you're going to have a date or not or if I should bring a date in case you have a date," I giggle softly, all that stress I used to have feeling so far away now. "And now you're all mine," I say, sighing contently before pressing my lips to yours and kissing you slowly and sweetly, moving my lips slowly with your own before deepening the kiss just slightly and letting a quiet moan slip out into your mouth before I finally pulled away. "Mhm, you always taste so good... like mint," I giggle softly.

---

I smirked when you pulled me on top of you and I looked at you with dark eyes. "I definitely love that too, and we can eye fuck whenever we want and get a little crazy together." I wiggled my eyebrows at you. I chuckled softly from your words as I played with your hair. "You're my 'forever date' because I'll take you everywhere I go and I'll go everywhere you go," I grinned at you. "Yours forever and ever," I winked at you as I pecked your lips gently before kissing back deeply and moaning into your mouth as well. "Fuck, why must you always be a tease?" I smirked when the kiss was broken.

#( & things that only carolina will ever know rp )#( & call it what you want rp )

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universitypenguin · 2 years

Text

M is for Motivation

Author's Note: I'm definitely running this series into November. This may enrage the Kinktober gate keepers, but I can handle any rotten fruit that gets chucked my way. (Perhaps I'll just stop tagging it as kinktober? That's probably what I should do.)

Word Count: 2,470

Masterlist

Steve Rogers Alphabet Masterlist

Warnings: Smut, explicit writing, Steve Rogers being a horny beast, 18+ readers only, minors dni

M is for Motivation

Steve is turned on by visual stimulation. The artist in him has an eye for beauty. The man in him craves the affection that assures him of your emotional connection.

He enjoys seeing you in couture gowns. He likes your hair in a messy bun as you wear one of his tee shirts and your favorite leggings. Seeing your skin freshly moisturized after the shower makes saliva pool in his mouth. Visuals really do get him going. One that works quite well is yoga. After coming out of the ice he had no clue what yoga was until he’d seen women practicing it while on his morning jog. The outfits were intriguing… some of them down right mouthwatering, actually. All the bending and twisting done in yoga demonstrated why such tight clothing was needed. Steve made an effort not to ogle the work out class where the women in the park practiced.

Then he saw you practicing on a Saturday afternoon. Women in the park were just trying to get their workouts in. But you, his girlfriend, arching her back in the cobra pose? Stretching her hips into the splits and groaning at the feeling? (Your groan was so sexy, his blood couldn’t help but rush south.) He dragged the armchair from its normal position facing the couch and turned it towards your yoga mat.

You sent him a knowing smirk. “Care to join me?”

“Nope.”

“You’re sure? It’s good for you.”

Steve leaned back, clasping his hands behind his head.

“I stretched after my run. Don’t mind me, babe.”

There was an entirely different effect to seeing you in the yoga pants, versus random women in the park. He knew what was underneath your clothes. If he played his cards right, he’d get to strip the spandex pants down your legs. He could peel away the sports bralette that served as your top and devour your soft flesh to his heart’s content. The moan you made as you dropped into a different pose had his dick twitching. You turned your head, but not fast enough for him to miss your smug expression. Steve doesn’t mind being teased. Watching you do yoga turned into one of his pastimes. He teases back whenever he catches you wiggling your hips for him or moving into a suggestive position.

“That’s a nice hip stretch, babe. Hold it just a few more seconds. Yeah, like that. Limber up those ligaments for me. You’ll be glad you did tonight.”

“Steve…”

He chuckles. “Don’t worry, I won’t distract you.”

You send him a reprimanding look. Steve’s boyish grin is unrepentant. You can see that he’s revealing in his role as the mischievous scamp. You’re taken off guard at this version of him but also amused. Striving for composure, you sit down, straightening your legs and reaching for your toes.

Steve grunts, hooking his ankle over his knee.

“What?”

“Nothing, doll. Good work. You need to work on limbering up your legs.”

“Is that so…?”

“Yeah. I don’t want to strain any muscles when I’m holding you down. Since you like to squirm around so much when I’m going deep.”

“Steve!”

He laughs as you get up and reposition yourself, facing away from him. As you put your hands down in front of you, he groans.

“Fuck. If you do that downward dog pose again, I’m going to give you another type of stretching to practice.”

You’re curious to see if he has it in him. With a quick glance over your shoulder and an arch of your eyebrow, you push up on the balls of your feet. As your hands brace and you lift your hips in the air, a thick arm bands around your waist.

“Oh!”

He had never manhandled you like this before. The shock of it made you shriek when he slung you over his shoulder. It was higher than expected. Steve moves down the hall in smooth strides, not off centered in the slightest by your weight.

“But I’m not done with my workout!”

“You’re right, your workout is just getting started.”

He tossed you onto the bed and stripped off your top, then shoved down the leggings and panties. His hands were quick and rough as he undressed you like it as a timed event. Abruptly you were left naked, with him fully dressed in sweats and a tight athletic tee.

“Show me that position, the one with your legs spread out.”

“The happy baby pose?”

You bent your legs to your chest, lifting your knees to a 90-degree angle as they reach your armpits. Steve brushed his fingers over your clit and then down to your entrance.

“You’re wet for me, honey.”

“You’ve been drooling over me for a half hour, of course I’m wet.”

His fingers glided into your pussy with ease.

“Nice and open, too. Just how I like it. You’re so welcoming, sucking me into your soaking cunt.”

He flexed his fingers and your hips jerked as the pads stroked your g-spot.

“Fuck, Steve…! Oh, do that again.”

He smirked. “Hold still and I will.”

With great effort, you held still as he rolled his fingers in a come hither motion. You couldn’t help it as he caressed that sweet spot. You whimpered and squirmed, your hips rising to meet his hand.

“Hold the position, doll. What’s so hard about that? You can do it.”

He circled your g-spot, and you cried out sharply when he rubbed it with vigor.

“Steve, Steve!”

Your legs twitched, stiffening, and suddenly you were crawling back to get away from his fingers. He followed your retreat up the bed. When the headboard hit your back, he grinned.

“Nowhere to run, sweetheart. Good choice though. I put something on the headboard that I planned to use tonight. But since you’re here now…”

He reached behind the headboard, and suddenly a thick nylon strap, lined with padding, was being fastened around your knee. The restraints were tethered to the headboard. Steve ripped the Velcro and drew the strap tight, then did the other leg. Now your legs were spread out on a V shape and there was no shifting to get away. A tug on the bindings proved he’d tightened them perfectly. He was remarkably skilled at tying you up, always making the material taunt without causing discomfort.

“Safe word?”

“Red,” you answered dutifully.

Steve brushed a kiss to your lips. “Good girl, baby. Let’s work out those little muscles inside of you now. I wanna see how flexible they are. I’m a big man and you’ve got to stay limber so you don’t get hurt taking me.”

You keened at the depth his fingers could reach with your legs hiked up and spread all the way open. Steve soothed you with praises as he drew the fire in your belly to a fever pitch. His fingers moved in a steady rhythm, digging into your g-spot at an intense angle you’d never have been able to tolerate, except with the restraints. You twisted your hips and jerked away. You cried. You begged for mercy. The orgasm was on the edge of your senses. Steve’s fingers worked your g-spot at a vicious pace that made tears run down your face. Your lungs heaved with exertion as you cried and begged in broken sentences.

“You’re creaming and milking at my fingers, but you’re holding back. I hate it when you keep your orgasms from me. This pussy has a job, baby and it’s giving both of us pleasure.”

He used his free hand to rub his calloused palm over your trembling belly.

“I can feel that tension, all coiled and ready to let go. It’s okay, sweet girl. Cum for your captain.”

You screamed, flexing your legs and trying to lift your hips. Your body jerked and tried to escape the delving fingers that were driving you insane. Sweat dripped down your chest and slicked your skin as you fought the orgasm.

“I can’t! Please, I can’t!!”

Steve stroked a big hand over your belly, holding you down with gentle pressure, and rubbed your g-spot. You choked on a breath and your whole body shivered. The quiver that ran through your legs and made your feet curl.

“You want out, you say your safe word. If you want me to wreck this pussy and take care of all the horrible tension stored up in your little body, keep on crying for me.”

You threw your head back and screamed. It was too much, but you couldn’t stop. Quitting now would leave you insane with unfulfilled desire. But if he kept going, you’d unravel so completely you’d never recover. Either way, you were fucked.

He pushed his thumb over your clit and you tried to snap your legs shut. The restraints dug into your flesh. Your defensive action did nothing to stop him from toying with the spot that made your whole body ripple.

“Sttteeevvv-uuhh…”

You couldn’t take it. Your next words came out in an incomprehensible babble as he bent to kiss your clit and worked the g-spot with no mercy. You couldn’t stop shaking. His tongue curled tenderly around your swollen bud and you keened, the sound agonized. As hard as you were fighting the climax, it was starting. Your pussy undulated around Steve’s fingers.

“What a good girl. You’re soaking my hand, baby. I’m going to have to eat all this cream after you cum on my fingers.”

You wailed, frightened and distraught, but desperate for his attention. The need had become so acute you were almost in pain. Steve proved how much of a master he was with his hands, swirling his thumb over your swollen clit and working his fingers against your spot. Your lungs burned and your body thrashed in mindless frustration.

“Cum on my fingers, honey. Let go.”

Steve rose over you and bent to your throat. He kissed your fluttering pulse, licked and then scraped it with his teeth. You trembled, hissing at the lash of pleasure. In a rush, the orgasm overpowered your mind, and your body took control.

Your hips lunged, working as much as they could in the bounds of your straps, riding his fingers as they moved inside of your channel with rough pressure. You wailed as the feelings seized your muscles. Your pussy and legs quivered. Even the muscles in your belly clenched and your arms went stiff as your back arched. The orgasm ripped through your muscles, until your entire body oscillated with the power of it. A helpless little shiver capped off the violent reaction as you went limp. Your eyes rolled back and you could still feel yourself cumming hard around his fingers, even as your brain shut down. Then Steve curled his fingers just so, angling them to a deep spot. A plaintive cry broke free and a rush of wetness soaked your inner thighs. You bucked and thrashed and sobbed. Steve whispered in your ear but his sweet words were lost in the roaring of your ears. When the orgasm finished, you went slack, but your body kept trembling like you were fighting off the worst of a fever.

You moaned when Steve withdrew his fingers.

“Good job, baby. I knew you could do it. Now, let’s see how flexible your pussy is.”

He shoved down the waistband of his sweats and boxers and, without giving you a second to prepare, drove into your pussy. With one stroke, he sheathed himself and then ground his hips against your immobilized body. The girth of him filled you with a dizzying pleasure. Left hypersensitive from the mind blowing orgasm, his invasion sent your body into a second climax. The pliant muscles seized with vigor and your helpless cries filled the room. He rocked his pelvis, gliding in and out of your slick pussy with shocking ease. Each thrust had you whining and the exquisite friction made you gush on his cock every time he stroked your g-spot. The second orgasm had barely finished before your hips were rolling and your legs quivering with a third release. Your spine felt as if it had been swapped, the bones of your vertebrae exchanged for putty. The orgasm made your pussy clench and your legs tremble, but the rest of your body remained limp, with nothing left to give.

You collapsed, drooping from exhaustion and gasping for breath. Steve bent to claim your nipple. He sucked the taunt bud and it felt like being hit with electricity. With a startled scream, you came. It was unexpected and intense, knocking all the sense out of your head. The clench of your pussy made Steve groan and he spilled himself into your body. When he slumped into your arms with a final grunt, you welcomed his weight. He was already seeking the fastenings of the straps and undoing them to free your legs.

When you’d been set free, he wrapped his arms around your waist and rolled over. Steve held you tight and let you sprawl on top of him. Your pussy was still clasping his slowly softening cock as spasms of aftershocks rolled through you. When you burrowed into his neck and sobbed, Steve pressed his hand to your lower back and drew his strong arm around your neck. The pressure of his hold was all that kept you grounded.

His lips brushed your ear.

“Okay, doll. You’re okay. You did so good, honey. That was the hottest orgasm I’ve ever seen, and you gave me three of ‘em. Such a sweet thing, baby. I can feel it shaking your legs, even right now. Fucking amazing. I love you so much.”

You couldn’t speak, only shake with the intensity of the aftermath.

Steve kissed your shoulder and rubbed your back with firm hands. His brisk strokes eased the storm of passion. Before you could process what you felt, sleep pulled you under. Still shivering and breathless, you fell asleep with Steve inside of you and your head pillowed on his shoulder. He felt you relax into unconsciousness, and then separates your bodies with care. Easing out of bed, as not to wake you, he went to the bathroom to get a damp cloth. When you have climaxes like that, particularly when there’s several so close together, you’ll be out for hours.

He strips out of his clothing and curls around you, pressing skin to skin. When you wake up, this is what you’ll need from him. He’s not tired, but he closes his eyes anyway, and enjoys the soft aftermath of cuddling you as you sleep. Visual simulation is what gets him to the bedroom, but the ensuing hours of peace and quiet, listening to your steady breathing as you sleep, is an incentive of its own.

- - - - -

Next Letter - N is for No

Steve Rogers Alphabet masterlist

- - - - -

Tag List: Please confirm for me that you are over 18 by direct message. This is required before I tag anyone in explicit content.

@harrysthiccthighss @patzammit @mariestark @fckdeusername @badassbaker @elrw24 @shamelessfangirl-3 @meetmeatyourworst @mrsdeanwinchester19 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

#steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america #chris evans #steve rogers #chris evans characters #captain america x y/n #captain america x female reader #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #captain america smut #smut fanfiction #no minors #minors dni #kinktober 2021 #steve rogers headcanon

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violetrainbow412-blog · 3 years

Text

Makeup [S.B]

Sirius Black x plus size!reader

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: a toxic relationship history and a bit of insecurity because of it.

A/N: I did a questionnaire a few days ago to see what kind of reader you would like me to do. This is the first one I do base on that questionnaire and I want to say the following:

The only reason the reader is specified as "plus size!reader" is that if there is someone who fits this description, feel comfortable.

You will never see something like "her FAT body" NO, NEVER

Much less that the One shot revolves around their weight (neither nationality, nor gender identity, nor sexuality nor all the things that they put in that questionnaire). I only write about NORMAL people in normal situations. All bodies are beautiful, we are all beautiful.

So, if you are a plus size person, welcome. If you are not, you can also read it without feeling left out in any way.

I really hope that you feel comfortable with everything I write and that you know that I seek to be as inclusive as possible. Without more to say, thanks for taking the time to read my stuff. Tell me your opinion, if you want!💕

You looked in the mirror one last time.

Sirius, the boy of your dreams, had asked you out on a date and you wanted everything to be absolutely perfect.

You had met him because you both lived on the same floor of the condo block and it was inevitable to bump into him from time to time. It wasn't the best place to live, it was small and a little dirty, but it was the only thing you could afford and the fastest you could find after that happened.

You liked the way Sirius smelled because when he crossed the corridors, you could perceive a mixture of leather (you supposed it was due to all the clothes he used of this material) and an elegant cologne that drove you crazy.

At first, it scared you a little to see him with that piercing in his eyebrow and his multiple tattoos, but later you realized that he was really nobody to be afraid of, on the contrary, he turned out to be a very tender and sweet boy.

The first time you spoke to him it was because you were struggling to open your door while carrying boxes and bags that you had brought from the supermarket. The boy noticed you were having trouble and walked up to you to offer his help, so (still a bit wary) you said yes.

Once he held your purchases, you could open the lock, but when you turned around, you noticed that Sirius was secretly looking at the contents of your bags and when he realized that you had caught him, he blushed.

"Sorry I'm a little gossipy," he said shyly "I'm Sirius"

"I thought you were a gossip"

"No, my name is Sirius" he laughed and it was your turn to blush.

"Oh, sorry"

"Okay, anyone can get confused" he murmured with his charming smile, handing you what he was holding in his hands "I live in the 512" he informed you. Of course, you knew he lived in that apartment; you had seen him come into its thousands of times "In case you need anything. You know, some plumbing or things that have to do with tools and that shit of men" he murmured kindly. You frowned a little and then he quickly added "I mean, it's not that girls can't do that and it's okay if you know how to do those things, you seem like a smart and capable person. It's just that sometimes it's tedious and requires strength... and it's not that you don't have strength, I mean...” Sirius couldn't continue because he heard you giggle and then realized he was looking like an idiot “Just call me if you need anything and if you want to do it, yes?” he explained to you and you nodded with a smile.

"Thanks for offering your help Sirius" you replied, looking at him over your bags.

"You’re welcome, miss..."

"Y/N" you completed. He smiled and wrapped a dark curl around his finger that fell unruly from his ponytail.

"I'll see you later then, Y/N. It was nice to greet you" he said by way of farewell and you nodded to respond.

You haven't felt like this with any guy since you met your dear (sarcasm) ex-boyfriend. The insecurities that he had created in you kept you from thinking about having something else later and you honestly didn't feel ready to have your heart broken again.

But Sirius continued to be kind to you. Whenever he looked at you, he made an effort to have a topic of conversation, even if you were not so eloquent, and little by little, he was gaining your trust and your affection. As the weeks went by, you became good friends who chatted in the elevator or occasionally (when you weren't late for work) went downstairs just to share a little more time.

Until one day Sirius showed up at your door with his clothes stained with something that looked like paint, his hair tied up in a messy way and smelling of burned food. He was so beautiful in his own way and you were so afraid of falling in love with him because you knew beforehand that having something else would be impossible.

After all, no boy would ever love you. It was something that your ex-boyfriend had commissioned to get very well into your head.

"Go out?" you asked a little confused after he asked you. You didn't want to misunderstand things.

"Yes! We could go wherever you want. For ice cream, to dinner, to a park, to the cinema... I don't know, wherever you can think of”

"Why?" was the first thing that occurred to you to ask. Now it was Sirius' turn to look confused.

"Well, I thought it would be an opportunity to meet and... spend more time together" he explained and although you had understood the idea it seemed impossible to think that the boy had any kind of interest in you "But it's fine if you don't want to, I don't pretend be upset"

"I'd love to," you rushed to say, fearful that the opportunity would slip through your grasp. You saw him smile and after exchanging a few more words he left with a smile that you couldn't see, but that was pure joy.

Finally, the day of "go out" arrived and you were about to tell him that you could not go. You were nervous, more than nervous you were anxious about what could happen or what he could say about you.

You had searched your entire wardrobe for something decent to wear and after pulling and removing and taking out the clothes and trying them on, none of them convinced you. You looked in the mirror and didn't feel like it was enough of an outfit to date a man as handsome as him. In the first place, you did not even know why he had chosen to go out with you, because, although you considered yourself a nice person, you could not boast of being the most interesting.

Don't think about it, don't think about it, you kept repeating yourself as you continued to get ready and looked at the wall clock waiting for the time for Sirius to knock on your apartment.

Once you were with your outfit ready, you looked yourself up and down and although he did not completely convince you, you decided to tell yourself that you looked beautiful. Still a little nervous you looked at the makeup bag that was under some things on your dressing table. You hadn't put on makeup for years, because you were still scared to hear the comments in your head with that horrible voice.

You look like a whore.

You shook your head to ward off all the negativity and taking a breath you plucked up the courage to open the zippers and remove the beautiful makeup that you had abandoned. When you were finishing and without giving a chance to regret there was a knock on the door that took you by surprise. You went out and found Sirius wearing a striped t-shirt and ripped jeans that reminded you of that blond singer... Kurt was his name?

"Wow" you heard him say and he caught you staring at him adoringly. But you noticed that he looked at you the same "You are beautiful" he said with a smile. You frowned, again a little afraid that he was lying, but you tried again to push away those ideas of self-sabotage and smiled widely.

"I'm glad you like it. You look very handsome, you look like...”

"A rock star? I know” he said winking at you and managing to make you laugh “It's a joke, thanks for the compliment, sweetie” he replied, with his pretty smile of sealed lips. Just when you were smiling at him you watched him pay special attention to your makeup and put on a face that completely terrified you, taking all your confidence.

"Something wrong?"

"Your makeup" he pronounced. You felt your heart squeeze a little.

"You do not like? I can go take it off if you find it ugly or something like that…”

"Ugly?" he asked offended "No! It’s beautiful, but I feel like it lacks a touch. You know, the cherry on the cake that stands out in your eyes” he explained. You looked at him confused for the third time and he snapped his fingers as if the answer had suddenly come to his head "Eyeliner"

"Eyeliner?"

"Of course! Don't you like to use it? " he said kindly, turning his head to the side. You denied.

"I never learned how to do it" you lied. There was a bit of truth to it, but it also had a lot to do with the fact that he kept repeating that you looked vulgar with the eyeliner.

“I'm good at it! Come with me,” he murmured. He took your hand carefully and dragged you gently through the hall until they reached his apartment. You were a nervous wreck when he invited you to join him. "Sorry about the mess, I'm really the most distracted person on the planet and I forget to arrange things," he said with an embarrassed smile. You looked at some vinyl lying around, clothes, food packages, paintings, a guitar. There was a certain peace and beauty within all that mess, completely reflecting the boy who was desperately searching for his favorite eyeliner.

"Come," he asked once he left his room. You sat in a red leather chair he had and he leaned in your direction, very close to your face "Raise your head and look slightly down" he asked you and you listened. He took you by the chin with one hand and you saw him stick his tongue out just a little bit (as a sign of his concentration) while drawing on your eyelids. When he indicated that he had finished you saw him smile from ear to ear, which you imitated when he saw yourself in a mirror.

"Wow..." you whispered. Years ago, you loved putting on makeup and especially eyeliner, so seeing you again like that you were surprised. Besides, he was right, his hand was excellent at it.

"Now it's perfect, right?" he said excitedly. Perfect, that's how Sirius described what was in front of his eyes.

"Yeah... it looks much better" you admitted shyly. You couldn't believe that Sirius could make you feel so comfortable and calm, as well as help you maintain your confidence in yourself.

"I just hope I don't meet jealous guys for not having someone so pretty accompanying them," he said flirtatiously, making you laugh because of your nerves and making you blush "Shall we go?" he asked smiling and extending a hand to help you up.

You looked at him, still amazed to have found someone like that in your life, and took his hand with a smile.

Who would say that sometimes love stories begin like this?

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