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justanothervoreblog · 4 months

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A Date for Valentine's

You would always tell yourself that Valentine's Day was for suckers. People who needed a single day to celebrate love. As if saying that made the day any less lonelier. This year, you decided to get with the holiday and put yourself out there. Luckily you managed to find someone who feels exactly the same way that you did.

You meet up with him and things are going great. If you had ever believed in the power of Cupid’s arrow, it was now. He was funny and relatable, and he knew all of your favorite bands and video games. Not to mention he wasn't that bad to look at either! Things were going so well that you decided to say yes when he invited you over. After all, your Valentine's Day was going well, so why end it now?

The good vibes continue all the way to his apartment. Although you do notice that he's unusually hungry. Odd considering you watched him swallow down three pizzas, but people were quirky like that. Besides, you are far too focused on the dirty talk that he was doing. Saying things like “I can't wait to eat you up” or “You look delicious”. One that particularly got you was stripping you down and licking every inch of your body. That one had your skin tingling!

Once you stepped out of the car, it was a blur. You don't know how two people could walk and make out at the same time but you made it work. Up three flights of stairs, pushing each other against the walls, tearing each other's clothes off, the works. Your hair was ragged by the time you had reached his door. Hot and bothered couldn't nearly describe how you felt.

Inside the door, the two of you traded kisses and hickeys to the couch. After some playful wrestling, he ends up on top of you. You are expecting more to come, but what comes next is not in your horoscope. He makes some comments about how delicious you look and how he can't wait to get you inside. You have no idea what he's talking about, frankly because you thought you would be bottoming. However, when his mouth opens wider than it should, saliva dripping down from his teeth, you realize that this wasn't just kinky talk.

What comes next is a smelly mouth and an invasive tongue. It looks over everything. Your face, your ears, the back of your neck. You pass into a tight pink tunnel, warmed by the air coming from below. The only thing you can hear is the steady gulping from your would-be date and now-turned predator. He didn't have any issue with turning you into a Valentine's Day meal. And with every gulp, that becomes more of your reality.

You don't know how long you spend in the tunnel. You pass by a very loud heartbeat as it slams in your ear. Eventually, you push past a tight ring of muscle into what had to be the smelliest place on earth. His stomach reeks of the pizza he had devoured. And soon it would reek of you. Your head, shoulders, and your upper body all slide in quickly. Your legs kick weakly on the outside and steadily more and more of your body is becoming wet and slimy.

Eventually, your shoes are taken off, that tongue wraps around your wet socks, and what's left of you in the world is gone. You feel your legs travel down his throat as you curl into a ball. With a steady thump, the date is over and the final course, you, was served. On the outside, your date rubs over his belly content with yet another helpless romantic lured in on Valentine's Day. He taught you about how love hurts and that this way you two will be together forever. Or something like that, it's muffled through the churning of the stomach walls as well as the gurgling.

As you settle into your temporary home, a bittersweet thought comes into your mind. You still weren't spending Valentine's alone. You would be with your pred, for as long as it takes for him to digest you. As the stomach walls squeeze around you and press all of the air out of the chamber, a soft smile plays on your lips. You gently pass out as that huge burp vibrates the apartment.

There were worse ways to spend Valentine’s Day.

Happy Voretine's Day ❤️❤️❤️

#male prey #male pred #male vore #prey pov #vore story #m/m vore #ambiguous vore

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ashwhowrites · 2 years

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Can you do a writing with Eddie having sex with pregnant wife? She's got a big baby bump and has been self conscious about having sex with Eddie. After some convincing she caves but Eddie stares at her bump the entire time she rides him. When she tells him to stop looking at her bump he tells her how she's always been beautiful but carrying his child she is absolutely glowing. Make it smutty but sweet. I'm begging it's been hard on my mind.

Oh absolutely. This idea already drove me wild

I hope you love it!

Eddie was a horny guy, he'll be the first to admit that.

His wife could do anything and he's ready to pounce. But when you add the fact she's carrying his child, he's so fucked. He's been rock hard since her bump first was shown.

At first she was just as nuts as him. Constantly on each other within seconds of eye contact. For months straight, they fucked nightly.

But once she got big, and very big. She became less interested and Eddie grew more aroused. Eddie blamed it on the fact she was tired, and uncomfortable. He doesn't blame her. But seeing her belly grow more and more, it was hard to ignore how badly he wanted to watch her ride him. Her big round belly front and center as her cunt clenched around him and milking him.

She felt huge. She knows she's carrying her husband's baby and was creating life. But that didn't change the fact she felt hideous. She didn't understand how Eddie was still attracted to her. When she looked in the mirror she didn't see one beautiful thing about herself. Her brain couldn't wrap around the fact her husband still wanted her, desired her.

As hard as it was, she dodged every advance. When his hand would trail up her thigh she was fast to stand up, well as fast as she could with her huge belly.

When he would rub his morning wood against her ass and his deep morning voice, she was practically dripping in the sheets but would run to make breakfast.

Eddie was not the type of man to force a girl to have sex with him. But God it's been months since he felt his wife's body against his own. He was at his breaking point, ready to beg for it.

She wasn't evil to him. She still took care of him sexually. Hand jobs, blow jobs, and gave him alone time to masterbate. But he wanted to be in her. He needed to feel her pussy more than anything.

He knew his wife, he saw it in her eyes she was aroused by him. So what was keeping her away?

He was going to figure it out and make her crack.

She felt like the world was out for her blood.

She was minding her business, making breakfast when Eddie came freshly out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping from his long hair to his toned chest. His tattoos are dark from being wet.

He smirked, he knew what this does.

He acted innocent as he wrapped his arms around her, his big hands rubbing her belly. And just like that she felt gross, reminded of how big her stomach was.

"you're so fucking hot." Eddie grunted in her ear, kisses slowly being placed on her neck.

"breakfast is ready!" She announced as she yanked herself away from him.

That was too close.

Eddie did this for about three days. Every day she was getting closer to cracking. From working out in the living room, to tying his hair up so his shirt would purposely show his happy trail. Lying and saying the car desperately needed to be cleaned shirtless. He could practically smell her arousal more each day.

He had one last trick up his sleeve.

One thing she could never deny.

One thing he learned from when they were teenagers.

The one time she caught him jacking off, moaning her name. It had her going for hours.

The second Eddie had himself placed on the couch, loose sweats hung on his hips, boxers poking out.

He's been rock hard since he met her so that wasn't an issue. He slowly palmed himself. Giving a tug over his sweats. A low groan left his lips.

Once he heard the garage door open, he started his show.

He threw his head back, yanked his cock out fast, spit on his hand and began to pump himself. He was going to an mad fast pace. Moaning loudly and chanting his wife's name.

With his eyes closed, he couldn't see her but he felt her stare. He heard her small whimpers, his eyes opened and looked for hers.

Once he saw them he smiled at her. Acting like his hand isn't pumping his cock.

"Hi baby."

She stood, thighs closed very close together. Her mouth opens in small gaps. Eyes trained on watching his ring filled hand gliding on his cock. Wet sounds echoing throughout the house from how wet his cock is.

"my fat cock misses you gorgeous. Misses that pretty tight cunt. Come sit momma." He pulled his hand away, holding out his clean hand for her to take.

She slowly itched forward. For once her arousal was winning. Seeing her husband pumping himself to her, made her feel like they were teenagers again. She tried to control herself. Look into his eyes but no matter what they trailed down.

She was close enough where he reached her hand. He gripped it and tugged her closer.

She stood right before his feet. Licking her lips at the sight of his red throbbing cock. She whined in the back of her throat. She can't deny that she missed him and definitely missed him in that way.

She wanted it so bad.

"don't fight it baby, let me take good care of you." She moaned at his words, his hands traveled to her leggings, pulling them down slowly.

His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her clothed cunt. He licked his lips, god he missed her pretty cunt.

She stepped out of her pants, kicking them to the side.

His fingers grazed over her covered clit, she shivered, goosebumps raising on her skin.

She felt so sensitive. Her hormones are on high drive.

"doesn't that feel good baby?" He softly asked. No teasing or mocking. Generally just wanted her to feel relaxed and good.

She nodded as she placed herself on his lap. Arms circling around his neck, fingers digging into his curls.

Eddie's hand raised towards the bottom of her shirt, she stopped his hands before he could take it off.

He looked at her confused.

"what is it?"

"can we just keep my shirt on?" She asked, too embarrassed to look into his eyes.

Eddie wasn't having it. He grabbed her chin and made her look up at him. His eyes connected with hers.

"why baby? I want to see all of you."

"I just hate how big I am."

That's when it connected.

"baby, have you been self conscious about your gorgeous baby bump?"

"it is not gorgeous Eddie. I'm huge." She cried as tears clouded her vision.

Eddie shushed her and pecked her cheeks softly. The rough skin on his thumbs wiped her tears.

"stop that. That's my wife's body you are talking about. And her body is fucking gorgeous. You are carrying my baby in that body. Do you know how beautiful that is? And how fucking hard that makes me?"

He lifted his hips, his cock brushed against her covered clit. She shivered from the contact.

"see?"

When he silently asked again, she nodded.

A big smile took over his face as he lifted up her shirt. He unclipped her bra.

He leaned as far back as he could. Looking at his wife sitting there in nothing but her underwear.

His eyes trailed to her swollen belly. He felt a growl escape his throat and his tip started to leak precum.

She tried to distract him by moving her underwear to the side and slipping him in.

His head was thrown to the back of the couch. Eyes rolling into his head, feeling his raw cock filling her up again. It's been months since he felt her.

"fuck baby you are so tight. I might just blow already." He tried to laugh but a moan cut him off. She felt fucking amazing.

She began to slowly rock her hips against him. She didn't have much strength to move on him as fast as she generally did.

She took her time, getting lost in the feeling of him. His mouth sucking her skin. His hands rub her sides softly. His grunts and her moans fill the living room.

Eddie couldn't take his eyes off of her. She looked like she was glowing. Her breasts were large and swelling. Her cheeks were flushed. And the one part he couldn't take his eyes off of- her belly.

Watching her ride him, that gorgeous huge bump pressing into his stomach. His eyes were glued to it.

"stop staring at it."

He didn't even notice she stopped moving her hips against him.

He blinked and looked up to her

"baby. You are gorgeous and your bump is making you glow. Please just let me make love to my wife okay?"

He began to thrust up, she moaned when he got deeper in her. Fingers adding pressure to her clit.

"you are so wet, gorgeous. I love you so much. I love knowing you have a part of me in you. Everyone who sees you just knows I fucked you up real nice."

She was practically whimpering on him at this point. She hated how close she was, wanting this to last forever.

She was starting to feel beautiful again. Her husband desired her somehow even more than ever.

"Eddie, I'm coming to cum. Please let me cum. Please baby please."

"you don't have to ask baby. Cum for me. Make a mess on me. Come on baby."

His fingers were going faster against her clit. She threw her head back as her stomach felt like it snapped.

"fuck. Eddie. Yes. Don't stop. Fuck shit."

Watching her orgasm, screaming his name, he was fast behind her.

"fuck baby good job. Daddy's going to come now. Okay he's going to fill you up just like last time. Fuck..sh..it"

His own orgasm ripping through his body. His legs clenched as he emptied himself in her.

His head was thrown back and she was quick to suck on the available skin.

He slowly lifted her up, letting his soft cock slip out of her.

She whined at the emptiness and dug herself closer to him.

"I love you too Eddie. So much." She kissed his lips.

Now when his hands touched her stomach, she felt desired, loved, and so goddamn beautiful.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson smut x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #The bump

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mvltisstuff · 11 months

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Hi, I loved you recent fic about reader being Eddies sister, it was amazing.

Can we get a part two with reader and Buck getting to know each other and then eventually dating at the end 🙏

Love your fics keep up the good work.

mr. rager (cont.) - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif from @evanbuckleydaily

a/n: ok so eddie had the spotlight in part one but this is bucks part 🤭 this is a bit of a shorter one but i hope you like it 💗

“eddie,” y/n complained. “i really don’t think i want to start anything-“

“c’mon, he’s nice! i’ve known him for a while i swear he’s a good guy,” eddie attempts to convince y/n again.

“i know, i’ve met him before. i get that you have some weird obsession with him and me but pipe down.”

“alright! i’m just saying he is an option.”

truth? y/n and buck have been going out for weeks. they’ve been hanging out and getting dinner and they actually hit it off. she realized that there’s people out there who understand her. growing up, she felt more alone than anyone. until she found buck and his radiance, he were someone to confide in. buck always was the spotlight of criticism when he was being raised. between his parents and comparisons of him and maddie, it was intolerable, so he left. similar to y/n.

they knew all too well that eddie was trying to get them together, but why not try to mess with him? they figured they wanted to sneak around a bit, act like teenagers again. sure, eddie would be pissed, but y/n was gleaming with buck. buck knew she was different from all of the girls he’s been with. abby, ally, taylor, didn’t have the elements that y/n did when she came into the room. the elements that buck needed.

they were both surprised when the other started spitting out their exact feelings, finishing their sentences like they were a psychic. it was scary at the beginning. y/n figured those issues would eventually crash together, causing damage that couldn’t reverse. she couldn’t bear to lose buck so early on.

as mentioned, they were continuously sneaking around, avoiding eddie and people who could say something. so usually, they were just at buck or y/n’s apartment where no one could bother them. y/n was laying on bucks bed, propped up on her elbows with bucks lips pressed against hers. her hands rubbed against his forearms as his were keeping himself above her, loving on her neck and admiring her lips. they stayed in that position until y/n sat up, running her hands through bucks growing hair and letting them fall to his jaw.

bucks shift had ended a few hours ago, and after long hours of working, he texted y/n, wanting her to come over. so there they were, making out in bucks small apartment.

“when do you have to go to work?”

“don’t worry about it,” buck smiles, continuing to kiss her.

“just wanna know how much time we have,” she smirks and the knocking on bucks front door interrupts them. “clearly not as much as i had hoped.”

“ugh,” buck groans, planting one more quick peck on y/n’s lips before rushing downstairs to peek into the peephole. his heart races when he sees his best friends figure waiting by the door, six-pack in his hand. “shit!”

“what’s wrong-“

“go in the bathroom, it’s your brother!” buck whisper-yells.

“why is he here?” y/n asks, frantically trying to decide what to do.

“i’ll cover for you, just, i’m so sorry,” he stutters and moves to open the door. y/n locks herself in bucks bathroom, standing there until eddie leaves. “uh, hey! what’s up?” he asks awkwardly.

“nothing much… bad time?”

“no! no, you’re good,” buck moves to let eddie in. he’s trying to make it seem less suspicious, so he just decides to let him stop by for a few minutes. “i just woke up anyway.”

“makes sense, your hairs a mess,” eddie says, making bucks eyes widen and run his fingers through it. “relax, buck. what’s got you so on edge?”

“me? i’m fine!”

“alright,” eddie replies, not believing a word of his act. “i was gonna see if y/n was busy, but she didn’t answer her phone.”

“is she at work?”

“no, her shift would have ended a while ago,” eddie tells him. “here, i’m gonna call her again.”

“are you sure?” buck spits. “it’s just, maybe she’s asleep? or out with people? or on a date?”

“c’mon, it’s y/n. i’m just gonna make sure she’s ok,” eddie presses her name on his phone and buck immediately knows his fate. he’s screwed, basically. eddie would be pissed if he found out they didn’t tell him. shouldn’t they have said something sooner? it doesn’t matter now, because he’ll find out anyway. eddie unfortunately notices the distinct ringtone of y/n’s coming from above, on his nightstand. buck tries to cover it up by coughing, but eddie just puts his phone down.

“nice try, buck,” he crosses his arms. “where is my sister?”

“i-i don’t know what you mean-“

“y/n?” eddie shouts, knowing that she’s been hiding in there somewhere. even in the bathroom, she silently curses buck, trying to figure out which part of his brain told him to do this. no turning back now, though. she flicks the lock and pulls the door open, smiling awkwardly as she steps out of the bathroom. “come down here.”

she steps down, carefully incase she has to make a run for it. maybe she should do that anyway, just escape to el paso from the pure embarrassment she feels.

“and how long have you been seeing each other and not telling me?”

“oh, you know just a-“

“four months.” buck speaks, quickly and it’s barely inaudible.

“sorry, did you say four months?” eddie exclaims. “why didn’t you say anything?”

“you had your fair share of sneaking around growing up? i’m a grown woman, i can see whoever i want. and buck is a grown man, he can make his own decisions.”

“i’m not mad, i’ve just been trying to make this work for months!”

“well, congrats,” buck adds. eddie takes a beer from the pack and takes the lid off.

“tía owes me $20,” he adds, taking a sip of the beer.

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castieltrash1 · 10 months

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for the sleepover: noah when you're having a bad day...

i think the way he'd handle it differs a lot when he's younger/older, so post-war!noah will be under the cut! i hope this makes your day a little easier, anon <3

pre-war!noah x gn!reader; hurt/comfort, unspecified angst, mentions of fighting

seeing you sad is something noah loathes more than most things in life. he’s a generally sympathetic guy, even to complete strangers, but he's extra sensitive when it comes to you. if he had one wish, it’d be to make sure you never even frowned again. that’s why when you are feeling down, he’s wholly dedicated to getting a smile back on your face. he doesn’t have much to his name but he’s determined, and the devotion he has toward your happiness results in a few too many creative remedies. flowers, of course, wild and pulled straight from a field he’s taken you to for picnics before. if you’re more of a sweet tooth, he’ll spend his last dime getting your favorite candy, tying a loose ribbon around it for added effect. he’ll sing, dance, and even tell bad jokes recited directly from a brightly colored book of gags.

since he knows he can’t offer you a lot in other areas of life, noah tries to make it up to you in moments like these. if he can’t cheer you up quickly he’ll feel bad about himself, doubting his abilities to give you something as simple as happiness. of course, most of the time your negative emotions aren’t related to him at all, but that doesn’t mean he won’t internalize any sadness you do project. if you are sad about something he’s done or a situation between you two, he’s adamant about fixing it. at first, it might just seem like he wants to kick your relationship issues under the rug, but he eventually tells you that he knows life is short, and would rather spend every second he has with you feeling nothing but joy.

“we can’t just run away from this, noah! you really hurt my feelings.” swallowing the lump in your throat, you try to hold your voice steady as you confront him. “don’t you care about what i think?” you ask, feeling your skin grow warm in a mix of embarrassment and frustration, the latter of which only grows with each passing second that your boyfriend stands frowning in front of you.

“y’know i do,” noah replies, softening his tone after his earlier outburst. he takes a step closer to you with his palms outstretched, eyes wide and hopeful. “i just don’t like it when we fight. don’t see a point in all of it.”

“couples fight, noah. it’s normal.”

his lips quirk at the corners and, when you finally let him interlock his fingers with yours, a small smile spreads across his face. “can’t we just be happy instead?” you scoff, trying not to give in to his persuasive words and the way his thumb rubs gently against the back of your hand. you’re already forgetting what the fight was even about and why you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder these past few days. “c’mon, you forgive me, don’t ya?”

sighing, you pull him closer. “i really don’t know how you do it.”

“is that a yes?”

+ if you like being left alone when you’re sad, you’re dating the wrong guy. as long as you’re feeling down noah’s gonna be stuck to your side like glue no matter where you are. even if you're in the bathroom he’ll be sitting outside humming to himself, trying to strike up a conversation through the door. the last thing he wants is for you to be sad and lonely, so if he can only take care of one of those problems for now don’t expect him to be leaving anytime soon.

post-war!noah x gn!reader; hurt/comfort, unspecified angst, v slight mentions of depression/ptsd

after the war, noah’s naive, narrow view of the world and other people’s emotions within it develops into a much more mature perspective. it’s an unspoken thing, really, and he only brings it up off-handedly in rare moments that you collect over years of being with him. he’s seen and dealt with things he’d never dreamed of when he was younger and the effects of those situations are obvious in the way he treats you; especially if you knew him before and can see a direct contrast to his previously blind optimism.

instead of trying to “fix” your bad mood, noah just lets you embrace it. he knows that sometimes there isn’t much to do but ride out the wave of emotions until it subsides. of course, he’ll do whatever he can to make your day even a little easier, but he won’t let you feel guilty for wallowing in it either. sure, he can show some tough love, but he’s a real softie for you! he'll only lash out if your negativity is targeted toward him specifically, otherwise, he sees no reason to add to your already lousy day. when he is the problem, well, the sight of your tears is enough for him to drop his grudge (eventually.)

“we spendin’ all day in bed?” noah asks, the mattress sinking slightly as he sits beside your curled-up form. “'s beautiful outside.” when you peer over the comforter to look at him, you find his gaze already fixated on the view from your bedroom window, a hint of a smile hiding beneath his untamed beard. the normally cheerful tune of the birds' morning call only serves to remind you of your own lingering sadness, and you let out a heavy sigh.

“right, well…” noah shifts, and you close your eyes, waiting for the sound of the door closing behind him as he goes to start his day. “c’mon, darling, scooch over.” instead, his rough palm pats your hip, determination clear in his steady tone.

you sit up a little, brows furrowing. “aren’t you gonna go out?”

he shakes his head, crawling under the various quilts and blankets thrown across your bed the second you give him enough space. “and leave you here to mope all by yourself?” his fingers dig into your sides, urging you closer until he can press a ticklish kiss to your bare shoulder. “nah…” the gentle touch of his lips lingers and he only continues once you’ve settled against him. “i think i can stay a while longer.”

+ noah is, underneath all the bluntness, surprisingly rational. if your bad mood is the result of a less-than-ideal situation, he’s a great man to have talk you through it. he’ll take you out for a drive, boat ride, or even just a walk, letting you rant about whatever is bothering you before offering his own advice. as long as you take it with a grain of salt, and execute the delivery with a bit more decorum, his suggestions can be a lot of help!

gosling sleepover sunday (no longer taking requests!)

#noah calhoun #ryan gosling #the notebook #noah calhoun x reader #noah calhoun fluff #the notebook fluff #t: writing #answered #anonymous

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leviathans-body-pillow · 1 year

Text

Abandonment Issues

Asmodeus x GN!Reader

Hurt/comfort

Warnings: angst, mentions of sex, mentions of hookups, adult language, abandonment anxiety (idk this ones pretty tame for me)

After your first time being intimate with Asmodeus. You fall asleep in each other’s arms. However when he wakes, he finds his bed empty and cold.

Last night had been a dream, like nothing Asmodeus had every experienced before. Sure he’s had sex more times than he’s cared to keep track of, but nothing compared to making love to you. Everything you did was so carful and slow and most importantly full of love. When you looked into his eyes and saw him truly for who his is it was almost over whelming. Never had anyone loved him like you.

After a very long night you had fallen asleep in each other’s arms whispering words of love until you both drifted off to sleep. Asmodeus feeling a peace and warmth he hadn’t felt since the fall.

However the lack of your weight in his bed and your warmth against his body had awoken him. Asmodeus patted around his bed searching for you. The panicked realization that you had left set in as he sat up frantically searching for any sign of you in his dark room.

But you were no where to be found.

You left him

Asmodeus hugged his knees to his chest. His bed feeling bigger and emptier than ever. Truthfully he was used to waking up alone, his usual hook ups sneaking off in the middle of the night to avoid Lucifer. But you? How could you leave him?

Was that all he was to you? An easy fuck you could just get up and leave? Was the love in your eyes just a lie?

Tears burned Asmo’s eyes. He fell back against the bed curling up on his side as he grabbed your pillow, desperate to hold on to any fraction of your scent left on it. A few stray tear quickly turned to violent ugly sobs. Asmo let him self cry in to the pillow his body shaking as he called out you name.

“Asmo!?”

Asmo snapped up turning to the sound of your voice.

There you were in his bathroom doorway. The light of the room behind you lighting your silhouette like an Angel descending from the heavens.

“Mc?” He called out to you in disbelief, that if he rubbed the tears from his eyes you would be gone.

You rushed to his side, wasting no time pulling your love into your arms. “Asmo dear, what’s wrong?” You cooed running you fingers gently through his hair.

Asmo melted into your embrace, taking in your smell and warmth. “I thought you left me.” He said, he voice ruff from crying.

“I’m so sorry love, I just went to the bathroom. I didn’t mean to upset you.” You reassured him, pressing kisses to his tear stained cheeks.

Asmodeus felt foolish. You weren’t even gone that long, maybe several minutes? He must’ve woken up right after you left the bed, panicking without even thinking.

He couldn’t help but laugh at himself, wiping the last of his tears. “I’m sorry Mc, I hope I didn’t worry you too much. I guess I’m just used to people leaving after they’ve gotten what they want from me.”

“Oh Asmo,” you held his face so his eyes met your gaze. “I’m not here for some hook up, I love you and all I want is your love.”

Fresh tear pooled in Asmo’s amber eyes, “I love you, please don’t ever leave me.”

“I won’t, I promise.” You seal your promise with a kiss.

Asmo wraped his arms around you deepening the kiss as if you could disappear at any moment.

Eventually you both had to pull apart for air, but Asmo still held you close.

“I’m not going anywhere MoMo,” you reassure him again.

“I know,” he answered before yawning, the need to sleep settling back in.

“Here dear,” you lead him to lay on your chest, as you both snuggle back into bed. “Don’t want to miss anymore beauty sleep.”

Asmo relaxed into you, eyes growing heavy once again. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Next time you’ll be sure to leave the bathroom door open, just incase.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me headcanons #om swd #obey me writing #om asmodeus #obey me angst #obey me hurt/comfort #asmodeus x reader #asmodeus x mc #gn reader

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salt-is-a-terrible-currency · 11 months

Text

If I go too far

Written for day 3 of the Narcos fandom smut alphabet over on @narcosfandomdiscord

Fandom: Narcos

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Words: 737

Pairing: Javier x OFC Aurora

Prompt: choking

Warnings: smut, choking, past trauma

“I’ll go easy, yeah?” he murmurs in between nips and licks to her throat. “And you got to tell me if I go too far. Deal?”

“Yes, Javi,” she sighs. She’s trembling, perhaps both from nerves and from excitement. He hopes it’s mostly from excitement. David Rodríguez did this to her once. Wrapped his hands around her throat and squeezed until her vision became nothing more than pinpricks of light. Javier never thought he would do any such thing. Not to any woman but least of all to Aurora. She asked him for it though, last week as he was halfway inside her, when she guided his hand into a light grip and asked him to just hold not constrict. It was terrifying, intriguing, and at the end of it she came harder than she ever had before. Tonight he’s closed the blinds, locked the door, done everything short of unplugging the phone to ensure that they’ll be left alone for the evening.

Aurora’s got a gorgeous neck. He remembers one of the dresses she wore at their wedding, green and with a high neckline that made her look even taller and regal than she already did, with her tattooed hands clasped in front of her. Part of him is afraid to bruise it, to blemish something so perfect. Another part is thrilled at her display of trust, while a third is worried sick about someone finding out and accusing him of being a wife beater. By the time they’ve gotten each other naked she’s already so slick that his fingers meet no resistance, and when he presses the blunt head of his cock to her opening there’s a wet sound as she accepts him into her body. Javier raises a hand to her throat. Lets his fingers wrap around it but doesn’t squeeze.

“How do you feel tighter like this, huh?” he groans in her ear. “Makes no sense.”

“A little harder, Javi,” she begs. He obeys, gradually applying more pressure until she nods. It’s not all in his head, she really does get tighter as he presses in on her airways - her inner walls clamping down on him. It goes in waves. First, he holds tighter. Then, he lets go and provides her some respite before once again squeezing. Just seconds at a time and never hard enough to bruise. She comes with a wheezing whine, her hips grinding up against him in search of even more contact, and he releases her throat to plant both hands against the mattress and rock into her. When he follows her he shouts, teeth sinking into his lower lip to muffle the sound lest someone overhears and comes running. The room goes quiet. Aurora’s breathing - while not hindered - is still uneven and Javier props himself up on one elbow.

“You good?” he asks, searching her face for the slightest hint that she’s not. A furrow in her brow, a tear in her eyes. Anything. But all he finds is heavy eyelids and plump lips pulled into a lazy grin. She reaches for his cheek, humming.

“Yes, Javi, I’m good.” She’s still clutching him in her cunt, determined to keep him there, and he’s happy to allow it. He kisses her forehead, her nose, then her lips.

“I know you wouldn’t hurt me,” she assures him, sensing the worry behind the affection. Another kiss on her lips and Javier - reluctantly - pulls away.

“Where’s your mind, querida?” he asks, pulling his jeans on and cracking the window open to smoke. He’s started going outside to smoke ever since they began trying, but figures this is an exception given that he just had his hand wrapped around her throat. He’d rather not leave her alone right now, should it all come rushing back to her. She sits up and pulls the cover over her lap.

“I think we’ve both come a long way in fixing our personal issues.” Her hand drops to her belly, rubbing it in anticipation for what might one day grow in there. “But I hope by the time we get company, we’ll be even better.” He hums, note sure himself if it’s in agreement or if he’s just making sure that she knows he’s listening. Javier finishes the cigarette in silence, crushes it in the ashtray, and wanders over to the bed where he drops down to plant a kiss between her eyebrows.

“We can certainly try.”

#nffalphabet #javier pena fic #javier pena x ofc #narcos fic

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victhinks · 11 months

Text

(She Hopes) I'm Cursed Forever

Lockwood & Co. Angst week Day five: Scars Make Us Who We Are | accidents ; @lco-angst-week

Also posted on AO3

TW: Chronic Pain, Self-Esteem Issues

Their meeting was scheduled for today. The Visitors were being dealt with today — headache or no.

Lockwood has a headache and goes on a case regardless. It goes about as well as can be expected.

There it was again, the sharp stabbing sensation behind his left eyeball promising agonizing hours of exasperation and discomfort ahead. It always started with a twinge of sharp pain, enough for him to wince visibly but gone again after only a moment. Then, the real fun would begin: the slow buildup of dull pressure reaching from his forehead to his temples, making him feel as if his head was being squished together relentlessly, but slowly.

The pressure was not too bad. Lockwood could ignore it most of the time, focus enough on his tasks to make the pain fade to the back of his aching head because he had things to do and there was only so much time for a break, especially since the headaches had become such a common occurrence he could not afford to stop his work every time one of them hit. He’d never get things done that way, and there was nothing that could make him give up on his agency now that it was going so well.

Push through it. It’s not that bad.

There had been considerable stretches of time — a couple of weeks, sometimes even a month! — where the headaches left him alone. Lockwood had tried more than once to discern what exactly triggered them, but turned up empty each and every time. His best guess was stress, which was unfortunate, considering there was no way to avoid it in his profession and the life he led. Pity. Guess there was nothing to do but to push through.

It had been a while, against all odds, since he’d had one. This particular plague of inconvenience had left him alone for nearly three weeks and Lockwood fell trick to the same illusion he did each time when they were gone for a while: assume he had been magically cured and did not need to worry about his chronic headaches ever again, free at last from this recurring torment. Like a fool.

Alas, he was not.

The sharp pain behind his eye gave it away and Lockwood jostled the papers in his hands as he flinched, grimacing. The dull pressure was building, creating the feeling that something was pressing down on him, squeezing his brain like a sponge. Great.

Other than the fact that his illusion of a miracle healing had been shattered, Lockwood was displeased because there was an important case he was preparing to set out on with Lucy and George.

It was no matter, of course. This would not stand in the way of his duty to the agency, especially now that they needed the money desperately.

Lockwood groaned quietly, setting down the case file on the kitchen table and rubbing his forehead. This case would be a pain. What were esteemed to be three Type Two’s haunted the old family home of Mrs. Tillberg and she was willing to pay handsomely for their containment. The job came with the warning that the Visitors were quite strong and should therefore only be taken on by professionals.

When Lockwood had seen the advert in the paper, he had immediately thought it to be the perfect job for them. They could tackle their problem of money and publicity in one neat packing. It was a gift he was unwilling to refuse and the others had agreed.

Their meeting was scheduled for today. The Visitors were being dealt with today — headache or no.

It was unfortunate that the headaches came on stronger after leaving him alone for as long as they had now. Well, it did not matter. He could deal with it, had done so before and would do so again.

“This house is huge,” Lucy commented when they stood in front of Mrs. Tillberg’s mansion. George hummed in acknowledgement, diving into an explanation about the layout and arrangements of the rooms, pointing to different windows occasionally. The only thing Lockwood noticed about the mansion was the unsettling brightness of the white bricks. It seemed as if they were shining.

He was not feeling too well, pushing the nausea whirling inside of him to the recesses of his mind to ignore for the moment. The right side of his brain felt like it was being carefully carved out with a spoon and the mental image the pain produced in him was enough to make Lockwood swallow thickly. Beyond all reason, he hoped this job would be done quickly.

“Let’s go, this should be fun,” George’s monotonous voice cut through the haze in his mind and Lockwood started moving towards the front door, wondering if he had missed the appearance of Mrs. Tallberg and her giving them the key. “Lucy, after you,” George spoke again, stepping to the side and allowing her to approach the door. Lockwood remained standing on the porch, puzzled.

The dull pressure in his head was morphing into a pulsating sensation, which meant he would soon have to deal with a sharp pain in his head. It would be impossible to ignore then and leave him unable to think clearly.

There was still time before that set in, however, and with a bit of luck the case would be all over by then and he could retreat to his room to be dead to the world for a few hours until the pain lessened.

Lucy had crouched in front of the door and pulled something out of her pocket when Lockwood turned his attention to his surroundings again. He wanted to ask what exactly she was doing, when she rose again, giving George a sly smirk before opening the front door with ease.

“Did you just pick our client’s lock?” Lockwood asked her incredulously and Lucy turned around, her smirk turning into a sheepish smile.

She was so beautiful, so amazing. Her smile was a radiant sun warming the depths of his heart that had frozen-over years ago. With his entire being, over and over again in every little thing she did, Lockwood found again and again that he loved—

George chuckled heartily, the sudden noise making Lockwood flinch. The pain was on the way to become a distraction, he was already distracted. “I told you Mrs. Tallberg had to cancel and gave us permission to use more unorthodox methods,” George explained, stepping into the house quickly.

“As long as we don’t set her house on fire,” Lucy added with a chuckle, following after him.

That debacle was something neither of them would forget anytime soon.

Lockwood muttered his approval and stepped over the threshold as well, following the two of them. He tried to remember the details of the case — place and reason of death, lives lead, prior purpose of the house — but he came up empty, unable to remember any details despite reading over the file carefully before setting out.

It was as if an invisible wall had been put up between him and the things he wished to know, the knowledge he wished to remember, and he could not break through it. He could not think properly.

This was not good. The worst of his headaches were accompanied by a sort of fog in his brain, making him unable to comprehend things properly. He saw everything, but he could not truly process and respond to things, needing an extra few seconds before understanding what was going on — for his brain to connect the dots, as it were.

The temperature dropped suddenly, making Lockwood’s head throb painfully. (Temperature changes were a trigger evidently, good to know.)

Lucy drew in a sharp breath. “I sense something,” she said in a hushed voice, closing her eyes to Listen. Lockwood stepped around her, going further into the room and looking around, trying to See.

He entered a large sort of sitting room, filled with paintings on the walls, an armchair and a sofa standing around a little coffee table.

His gaze landed on a death glow so bright and blinding, the pulsating pain in his temples turned suddenly into a sharp, stabbing sensation, which stole his breath and made him double over in pain, his eyes shut tightly. A moan of pain escaping him unwillingly.

It was swallowed by the sound of loud knocking on the walls, a drumming so deafening Lockwood felt it echo in his skull long after it had stopped. He was out of breath already and the Visitors had not yet appeared. This would be a long night.

Keep it together. You’ve had worse.

They all drew their rapiers in preparation for a fight. Lockwood was unsteady, hands shaking slightly and vision swimming dangerously. His usually so clear and important vision was troubled by waves and stripes, strange patterns seemingly imprinted on his eyes. They were dancing, hindering his sight and he blinked furiously to clear them away. He had to see, needed to See!

It was no use and he had to strain his eyes to make out what was in front of him. The death glow was so bright, it made his eyeballs ache and water from the stab of pain it sent through his skull. It was all he could do not to close them and bury his head in his hands, away from the aggravating light causing him pain.

“Lockwood!” Lucy’s cry made him straighten immediately, turning all his attention to his surroundings and ignoring the waves of pain washing over him at increasing frequency. He stared numbly as a Visitor charged towards him — a short, round woman with a face that seemed to have contained radiant happiness while she was alive but was now disfigured distastefully through a mixture of rage and betrayal — and regained control of his mind just in time to remember how to defend himself.

He pointed his rapier at her, taking a startled step backwards on instinct. Lockwood managed to draw her back with a few hasty flicks of the iron, but his unsteady footing made him fall and he landed flat on his back on the hard tiled floor.

The force of his fall knocked the wind out of him, making Lockwood take a few gasping breaths as the dull sting traveled from his upper back to the base of his head. It made him cry out in pain. For a short moment Lockwood was blinded by the burning ache.

It was all it took for him to drop his rapier, leaving him defenseless against the Visitor inching closer to him once more. When the pain subsided enough for him to open his eyes without withering at the radiating light of the death glow on the edge of his vision, he saw her towering over him. Her haggard face mere inches from his own, he could see her clearly now, dirty, twisted and angry.

Their enraged faces were what stayed with him the longest. Lockwood could forget about the house they died in within the day of getting the money for a job well done. The death glows he saw stayed longer, lingering in his mind for maybe a month or until the next case, where he would see others, making the previous ones flee his thoughts. But their anger — the furious expressions on the faces of the Visitors — could never leave his head. If he thought of it hard enough, he could recall every face that ever made that expression of uncontained fury at him.

She was closer still now and he tried to remember his training. His thoughts came sluggishly, incredibly slow considering the urgency of the situation and he could do nothing but panic, puffing out frantic breaths as he squirmed on the ground.

On instinct, his hand was moving hurriedly to feel for his rapier.

A flash of silver above him caught the light of the death glow and made him close his eyes against the wave of nausea overtaking him. Light was a curse, it felt like a ray of ice shooting through his eyes. George had rushed in to charge at the Visitor and draw her away from him. Lockwood starred as George made complicated movements with the iron, edging her further away.

His hand met something cool and he was momentarily relieved before he felt a sting against his palm. When he looked, Lockwood saw the blade of his rapier stained red lightly with his blood.

The cut hardly registered, nothing but a faint twinge in comparison with the tidal wave of agony in his head. Lockwood drew himself up regardless. He had a job to do and he was failing his team.

There was a faint glowing of a different visitor appearing and he breathed deeply through the pain, readying himself for their attack. They drew closer and he flicked his rapier at them, taking a few steps back.

A loud crash vibrated through the room and Lockwood choked, losing his footing for the second time that night. He fell forward, making the Visitor disappear into nothingness with a lucky stroke of his rapier and collapsing to his knees, head bowed and breaths shallow.

He needed a break, needed to retreat and collect himself again — a safe space to catch his breath.

There was so much noise around him, things shifting, people talking and he longed to curl up into a tight ball and hide until this all was over. It was too much and Lockwood did not know what to do. He had a vague feeling about needing to go somewhere, but his mind was not working properly to tell him where and it frustrated him to no end, making his eyes take on a shimmer of wetness. Every noise hurt terribly.

“Chains!” George’s scream cut clearly through the haze in his mind — making him whimper — but giving him a thought he could latch onto. Chains, the circle. He would be safe there, he could have a respite.

As Lockwood heaved himself up, concentrating all his energy in dragging himself to the safety of the circle, Lucy and George were still occupied by the Visitors. They were fighting one each and Lockwood got the feeling that there was something missing in the scene, something he had forgotten but could not quite place.

A new faint light materialized behind Lucy and he regarded it with confusion. How many visitors were mentioned in the case file? He could not remember and simply watched uncomprehendingly as a Visitor appeared behind Lucy.

She had not noticed them and neither had George, busy with his own engagement.

The Visitor drew closer to Lucy and Lockwood felt a sudden dread overtake the nausea within him. This was bad, somehow. Lucy was in danger! Three Visitors and there were only two of them.

Lockwood launched himself forward despite the warning protests of his body, and charged at the third Visitor, drawing them away from Lucy’s back with his rapier. When her eyes met his, he saw surprise and gratitude flash in quick succession before her gaze settled on determination.

“Keep them away,” she told him, motioning to the two Visitors, “I’ll contain the sources.” He had no time to object as Lucy ran towards a wall, leaving him to fight or at least stall for time. The movements of his rapier were less than precise and more than once, he feared the two were closing in on him dangerously.

Lockwood’s breathing was erratic again. The movements he had to make hurt his head and the brightness of the death glow was making the nausea overwhelming. All his movements were made on pure instinct, his head was entirely empty but for the pain he desperately tried to ignore.

He was about to slice through one of the Visitors when they all disappeared suddenly. The surprise made Lockwood stumble again and had him falling unceremoniously to the ground. At least he had not braced himself against the blade of his rapier.

“I’ve got them,” Lucy exclaimed, standing next to an iron net, which was draped over a painting.

It was over, at last. The job was done.

They took a cab home. George had insisted, with a warning glance towards Lockwood and he had not objected, wanting more than anything to stop moving for a while and exist in silent darkness.

The pain did not subside. It remained stabbing through the right side of his head, making him wince, making it hard to think.

George led him through the front door of 35 Portland Row, having him sit down on the sofa in the living room. “Stay,” he told Lockwood firmly, but in a quiet voice. He had not turned on the big lights, instead having the small lamp on the shelf by the sitting area illuminate the entire room in warm yellow lighting.

“Give me your hand,” Lucy advised him, now kneeling in front of him and Lockwood wondered how scattered his mind was to be unable to tell when George had left and Lucy appeared.

He held out his hand for her numbly. She took it gently, turning it around so his wounded palm was facing up. Ah. He had entirely forgotten about that.

She set to work dressing his wound, disinfecting the cut and wrapping bandages around it. Lockwood tried to protest, wanting to argue that he could do it himself, but when he tried to form the sentence, he lost the words and had to admit to himself that he was not much use for anything in his current state. He closed his eyes, willing the darkness to elevate the pain in his skull a bit.

“How bad is it?” George asked him, voice low. He was concerned, so much was evident. Lockwood gave an uncommitted hum and opened his eyes to find George glaring at him in a nonverbal threat of ‘don’t fuck with me right now’.

Lucy rose, taking a seat next to Lockwood. “What’s going on, George?” she asked inquisitively with a glance at him.

She deserved an explanation, of course. Lockwood had become completely unreliable — a burden — on a case and put them all in danger. This could have gone terribly wrong and it would have been his fault!

“Lockwood gets headaches. He’s all snappy when he has them, but they usually don’t affect his days much. Sometimes, they’re worse, like this one,” George explained bluntly, “So answer me, Lockwood. How bad is it?” All this was delivered decisively but very quietly in George’s soft voice. He knew him too well.

“Not good,” Lockwood murmured, having no fight left to muster denial or resistance to George's inquiry. It was bad and he wanted to crawl into bed and lay there for a while until the storm in his head passed over.

George leaned back while sucking in a sharp breath. It was unusual for Lockwood to admit he was not feeling well, even less common for him to give in so easily. Less his words and more the fact of his immediate surrender spoke volumes of the pain he was in.

George nodded, mind racing through Lockwood’s usual headache remedies. “I’ll grab some water with ice,” he whispered, giving Lucy a profound look. She understood.

Lockwood muttered a small ‘thanks’ to George and sighed shakily. He turned to Lucy, looking at her through half lidded eyes in a mixture of pain and guilt. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice hushed.

Sorry for putting you in danger, sorry for not being able to help when you needed me. Sorry for being a disappointment, so sorry for not being good enough. Sorry for being incapacitated every now and again by these headaches—

The two of them did not deserve to have to deal with him in such a state. He had not wanted them to see him like this, had not wanted them to think less of him because of it.

Lucy looked at him with a slight frown. “This is not your fault, Lockwood,” she began, before cutting off, deciding this conversation should be held when he was in a clearer state of mind and in considerably less pain, “just tell us next time, alright? I hate to see you pushing yourself until you get hurt like this.”

She reached her hand out to his head slowly, fingers brushing against his temple in a feather-light touch until they moved up to his hair, stroking through it softly. Her motions against his head were so gentle, Lockwood wanted to cry at the infinite care she demonstrated to him, the consideration poured into her motions for his benefit.

“Luce,” he whispered, voice cracking with emotion. She shushed him.

“I know. It’s alright, I’m here,” she said, continuing the movements in his hair. They would continue for as long as he needed them to, Lucy was more than happy to keep him company and offer relief in any way she could.

Lockwood leaned into her touch. He could feel Lucy's dimm smile in the way she shifted closer to reach his aching head better, squirming a bit to get comfortable. I love you.

#lockwood and co angst week #lockwood and co #save lockwood and co

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creaturefeaster · 2 years

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how do zack and taylor meet? and how does their relationship evolve throughout the story?

They went to the same highschool, met there, and remained nothing more than acquaintances who hung out once in a blue moon until the events of the story took place. They sorta just happened to be hanging out at the time of the Fault.

Taylor is a lone wolf and Zack is a people person, so in the beginning Taylor tried to find many reasons to brace the apocalypse alone, while Zack did his best to stick by Taylor's side to avoid being on his own.

It worked out though, because while Taylor is strong and athletic, it just wasn't realistic that he'd survive all on his own against monsters many times his size and strength. Zack was always there to help in fight or flight. In turn, Taylor kept Zack from becoming reckless and going overboard, something he is prone to doing when left by himself.

Their friendship grew relatively quickly at the start as they worked to help eachother, although they both fought against it from time to time. Even then, when they felt more secure together than alone, there were a lot of factors that made it difficult for them.

The Persuasions of fate and other types never work for them like they do for the main cast. They are not 'needed' in the grand scheme that is fixing the world from chaos. They simply live in it, and reap no benefits from that temporal aid. So, they struggle against their fair share of poor luck, hard times, and supply scarcity. This causes occasional tension between them.

Their friendship strengthens later on, though, when they meet up with Hannah & her friends. With no means of safe transportation at the time, little food, and nothing better to do, they helped Hannah out with some RV issues she was having, and in turn she let them hang around for a little bit. (Hannah is a little too nice that way. She's all for helping strangers in need, even without knowing their true intentions.)

This relief allowed Taylor and Zack's pressures to ease up for a while, which meant less friction and tension. Taylor prefers hanging around people he knows rather than large groups of people he doesn't, so he and Zack's bond only grew stronger during this time as he stuck by Zack's side.

Zack also rubbed off on Taylor a bit through the several weeks they'd stuck together. Taylor is rational and keeps to himself, but Zack likes to take risks and go for broke quite often. When they feel at their most secure, Zack eventually convinces Taylor to help steal Hannah's RV in the night and drive off with it.

It's right around this time that I'd say they're probably something just a touuuuuch more than friends. Taylor would deny this outright, however.

During most of their time with Hannah & the gang, Zack felt secure enough to come on to Taylor-- rather strongly at times-- and so there was a lot of..... like, sexual tension between them for a bit. Even if Taylor persistently denied attraction.

But! When they were alone together again, and felt like they had much more of a chance on their own (now with an RV stocked with much needed supplies!), I'd say that Taylor started to give into Zack's flirts just a tiny bit. Or maybe a better way of putting it, he tolerated it all a bit more.

It's a long ass process from there. Taylor is stubborn and resists changes in relationship. It took them a couple of months at least of being by eachother's sides 24 hours a day for him to accept the fact that they were probably friends. It takes even longer for him to accept any different.

They eventually lose the RV, get caught up in Bristly's reign like everyone else, and again struggle through life. But with being so close at this point, their struggles are instead softened from time to time when they know that, in the end, they have each other.

#*they have each other....... and the ability to aggressively make out when tensions are high #<3 tehee #that tag is probably funnier if you read it before opening the read more #theres more to their story ofc but this is how their relationship progresses #brambleramble

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projectcaramel · 2 years

Text

Anger Management (2) - Obey Me! Satan

“You messed up my makeup!” Asmo shouted at Satan, the lipgloss he’d applied currently smeared partway across his cheek. “The least you could do is apologize!”

“Hah? You’re going to pull that bullshit when you’re the one who threw this at me?” Satan held up one of Asmo’s nail polish bottles which had, indeed, smacked into Satan’s face. There was still a red mark on his forehead from where it had made contact.

“That’s your fault for walking past while I was sorting through my best and worst polish!” Asmo retorted angrily. “Hey, Irene, I’m in the right, aren’t I?”

“I think she’ll find that I’m in the right,” Satan growled back, his aura leaping off his skin like fire, as if it wished to mimic his internal state. “Right, Irene?”

“It takes two to start an argument,” I replied, sighing without looking up from my project. “Asmo, you should know that you can’t just throw your trash behind you and expect Satan to realize what you’re doing. Satan, you know your little brother takes great pride in his appearance and hates having it messed up. Both of you should apologize.”

Apparently lulled, the pair of demons settled down again, and it seemed that the two of them were a little embarrassed.

“Sorry,” they both mumbled, and although they faced each other, I felt more as if they were saying it to me. Well, such an occurrence wasn’t all-that-uncommon. I frequently dissolved fights between the siblings with words alone (which was another reason Lucifer was more than willing to give me money), and I had come to be known as something of a peacekeeper in this den of demons.

However, such a rule did not necessarily apply to Satan, who never quite cooled off after calming down enough to apologize. He smiled and backed away, but as he left Asmo, I could tell he was still simmering underneath his facade. Why did he pretend?

I found myself sighing as I resolved to follow him and attempt to either understand him or soothe the short-tempered male. In truth, I loathe anger; it’s such an ugly and frightful emotion for the one experiencing it and the victim of it. Satan’s anger issues make me uneasy. Even irritable myself.

I hope that I can resolve this peacefully...

...

When I eventually stopped following Satan, it was to find him crouching in the garden, speaking softly and fervently. For a moment, I thought as I hovered behind him that he had been attempting to summon a monster more fearsome than Lotan or Cerberus, but the only monster in front of him was a kitten, probably no older than a year.

“Psspsspss,” Satan hissed softly, beckoning the kitten towards him, and whatever remained of his anger evaporated as the kitten butted its head against his hand. Satan’s lips spread into a wide, beautiful smile quite unlike that facsimile he’d been wearing earlier. Perhaps it had been hard to tell he had been faking it before, but it was not now. “Did you miss me?” he asked the kitten gently, even as he sat down, pulling the cat closer to him. “I know, I know. I’m late.”

“I didn’t know you liked cats,” I said, almost as quietly as Satan had been speaking, but I’d badly startled the demon all the same.

“Y-Yeah?” Satan asked, a flush quickly forming onto his cheeks. This, too, was a beautiful sight; I couldn’t help smiling as I immediately realized what I wanted to put on his gift.

“Would you mind if I petted it?” I asked, lowering myself to Satan’s level. “I am rather fond of cats, you see.”

“Well... I guess I don’t mind,” Satan mumbled, even as the kitten pawed at my offered hand, attempting to bite my finger before eventually settling his head into my palm as I scratched behind his ears. “...Did you follow me?”

“I was concerned,” I replied, even as I chuckled at the kitten’s protest to having his chin rubbed too long. I’d barely avoided a scratch. “Anger is a strenuous emotion that shortens your life; I had planned to ask you why you were still upset but I see there is no need for that now. It seems cats are a very good medicine for you.”

“You were... concerned about me?” Satan asked blankly, and I smiled at him.

“Always. Everyone at the House of Lamentation is important to me. You are no exception. In fact, I would even go so far as to say that I value you the most. Although your organizational skills need work, you are a helpful tutor and a wonderfully intelligent man. I easily lose track of time when we talk about the stories you’ve read.”

“...thanks, Irene.” Satan seemed to be fighting back a tide of emotion, although which emotion, I was not sure which he was trying to cover up. “Really.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied before I stood up. “Since it seems as if the kitten has done my work for me, I will leave you to relax.”

“You... don’t have to go,” Satan called after me, and the kitten mewled.

“Are you asking me to stay?”

“What if I was?” he challenged, momentarily getting defensive, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. Now that I thought about it, Satan was practically a cat himself, with those green eyes that flitted from irritation to contentment in an instant.

“Then I would stay,” I replied gently, leaning down to his level again, watching the blush that simmered in his cheeks at the movement. He was such a cute man when he let his guard fall down. “I like it when you’re honest, Satan.”

“...I’ll remember that.”

...

“This is...for me?” Satan asked when he opened the small box I’d given him. It was already October, and his birthday was today. From out of the box, he’d lifted the black, silky bookmark I’d embroidered with a white cat alongside his name, stylized in bright green. “It’s beautiful... How long did this even take you?”

“Several weeks,” I replied with a smile. “It was difficult to decide on a design, but I eventually made something that I hope will be durable and easy to find. The final product is still not quite what I’d hoped, but—”

“Irene, please, this is more than enough,” Satan cut me off, and I watched every muscle in his face relax into a hopelessly happy smile. “Thank you. I’ll put it to good use.”

“I’m glad,” I replied, mirroring his joy.

“Damn, Irene’s really pulling all the stops,” I heard Mammon mutter.

“Well, it is Irene, after all,” Lucifer remarked, seeming satisfied. Evidently, whatever expectations he had set for me had just been fulfilled.

“Can we please start eating already?” Beelzebub begged, and Satan gave a soft sigh before he told the others to dig into the feast that had been prepared for him, though that wasn’t before Satan quietly asked if we could speak in private later.

Once our bellies were filled, Satan pulled me away from his brothers’ idle chatter, and I followed him as he led me through the halls and up the stairs, straight into his book-littered bedroom. At the moment, it was even more disorderly than I’d last seen it, and I resisted the urge to start picking up the books on the floor.

“What is it?” I asked as we stopped, and Satan turned to face me.

“Irene.” I was stricken by the emotion trembling in his voice even as he took hold of my hand with both of his. His green-nailed fingers were surprisingly long, the skin soft like Asmo’s.

I tilted my head in question at Satan’s hesitance towards answering my silent question. When he met my eyes, his words were stunted and yet frantic.

“The truth is, I... I really...!”

“See, I told you they weren’t havin’ sex!”

“Of course not. Irene would be smart enough to lock the door.”

“Aww, poo. What a shame...”

“There goes my 100 grim... this is what I get for trying to gamble every once in a while...”

“Wha—you guys!?” Satan blustered at his brothers, an angrily embarrassed flush creeping onto his cheeks. “What part of ‘I want to talk to Irene alone’ don’t you understand!?”

“Oh, come onnn~” Asmo hummed. “Let us vicariously experience this exciting time~”

“Piss off!”

“Asmo, that’s enough teasing,” Lucifer chided. “Let them have their fun.” Still, after Lucifer had dragged the others away, the words that Satan had been about to say to me were forgotten, exchanged with shared reading session. Although it was a comfort to enjoy the sound of turning pages and the smell of old ink, I could not help but feel some unease in the words that were unwritten and undefined.

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#obey me satan #stories #writing #short story #storytelling #update #obey me!#fanfiction #romance #unspoken #anger management #anger issues

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royalreef · 2 years

Text

(( So last night I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep due to a variety of issues, and I ended up writing a thing on my phone to just have something to do with my hands.

Be warned, I am not checking this for quality or typos or general poor writing, as again. Written on my phone. In the middle of the night. In a fugue state.

Her nose nudges under Aaravi's chin, smooth and cool.

"Scared. Scared." The words warble, gentle as owl wings on the night, trembling in the darkness.

Aaravi would have said something intelligent. But as it was, she was well past her way into sleep, so all that came out was a confused grumble, a half-word that she wouldn't have understood herself. Her hand lifted, rubbing at her eyes. How late was it? The only light coming in from outside was from a street lamp, coating the covers in a slick amber glow, so sometime in the morning. Before the sun came up.

Miranda had pulled back now. Her weight sat on the other end of the bed, pushing down into the mattress, a smooth river stone worn down by time. Tail was curled around herself, tucking up and over her face. She had lifted it some, revealing her eyes, letting her peek out at Aaravi. She could see a ghostly blue glow dotting her cheeks, rising to a meek pulse before fading down again, and repeating the pattern.

She was shaking.

Aaravi blinked her eyes, trying to clear the crust of sleep from them. Not good- nothing seemed outright to be wrong, but the fear was palpable, coiled up inside Miranda like a spring ready to pounce. She made another confused, now worried mumble, feeling mandibles click against her upper teeth. Somehow she was able to erect herself up, sitting up and out of bed, blinking her eyes slow in the dim light.

Her hands grabbed for Miranda now. Seeking, patting along the bed, moving slow and careful, trying to pull her closer. It would help. Not all, but it would help.

"Wha's wrong?" Her words stuck against her teeth. Her mouth was dry. She needed to get something to drink.

"Scared. Scared. Scared." Those eyes clenched shut now, and another wave of fear rose up, shaking the bed. Tail fell down like a curtain, Miranda coiling herself tighter, shivering in the orange glow.

Aaravi's hands moved further. Just a touch - finding Miranda's shoulders and tugging her closer. They had gone to sleep in each other's arms. A return would be better than Miranda sitting on the other side, across a sea of blankets. "Why're you scared?"

She stilled, at first. Breathing hard, shaking still, shaking Aaravi's arms. But not moving, muscles coiled up beneath her scales, tense and tight and drawn like she was expecting to run.

Then she slowly unspooled, lifting up, pushing into Aaravi's arms. She poured forth against her side, into her lap, tucking her head into the soft gap between head and neck. She was still shaking. Hiding her head still, but in a better place, even if now she was making odd hiccups and half-whines, eliciting a brush of Aaravi's hands over the the top edge of her fins. Legs lifted and curved around Miranda's waist, body lifting and turning on its side, so as to lean into Miranda, to hold her a little tighter.

"Nightmare?"

The question was diagnostic, mostly. Not the first time this had happened. Aaravi didn't have to think hard to guess that it wouldn't be the last either, a point of sharp pain against the memory of what her family was like.

Not good, though. Miranda was bothered by dreams that she didn't try to talk about or name. Dark things that clouded her mind and left her in these fits, or trying to stand up and run from someone that wasn't there. Not like Aaravi knew what they were or had some tunnel into her mind, but she had a feeling. Feelings like that often turned out more true than not.

At least Miranda wasn't alone in them, which served a small and aching concession.

Miranda, meanwhile, offered her agreement in form of a long, agonized cry against her collarbone while Aaravi's body too began to quake. Her tail was pressing up against her back, slithered under the covers, and maybe the pressure and weight would help, if not someone else being awake with her.

#Most secret royal advisor || OOC #The sea knows something we don't || Drabbles #(( and yes it does drop off abruptly #(( it was like 4 in the morning adjust your expectations

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unknownjpegs · 5 months

Text

caprisun

Benji props himself up, panting like he even needs the air; doesn’t, of course, but he’s never stopped to consider the habit.

Certainly won’t stop now. Because Xavier looks so fantastic, so pretty under him. All that pale skin, soft-lit and absurdly poetic in the moonlight? Nah.

And all the marks… Hickeys and oval-shaped bruises, a collection of then on either hip. The distance between each so like a fingerprint, utterly unique and glaringly obvious from Benji’s hands alone.

Of course, the bites too. Everywhere he can get them; and that’s a lot of space, a lot of canvas, big guy like Xavier. He’d never considered the idea of hanging a blank cloth-stretched frame in a museum, ’til him.

“Done?” The man in question slurs, head tucked towards a freckled shoulder as a cheek rubs sleepily against the pillow. So fucking cute that Benji has gotta lean down and sink his teeth into the flesh of his pectoral, mouth open and panting hot, wet breath around a hard nipple. Already been plucked meanly pink as Benji drank lazily from his neck.

“Haaaa — holy shit, okay,” Xavier whines, now tossing his head back. He twitches all over, a waving movement of muscle that would be stronger, more purposeful, if he — well, if he had any energy to spare. Even his cock gives a weak twitch against Benji’s naked thigh. This, he thinks, is distantly impressive considering the blood flow issue.

“Woof, guess not. G-go for it.”

“Xavier, you prick. Talked about this. Don’t let me keep going if you need to tap out.” Benji admonishes teasingly, once he’s pulled away. Pulled away as much as he can, anyway, because Xavier manages to raise an arm and hold the back of his head still. No strength to it, just the comfortable, familiar weight of that massive palm, but it’s enough to subdue him.

One of the only things that will.

Because sometimes, Benji’s not even biting to drink. Doesn’t even need it; he’s nice and sated, now, if he’s honest. Was sated awhile ago, but Xavier is…special. He’d never be able to explain the taste, what it does to him. Blood warms him up all over, makes the illusion of life spring back, but Xavier brings that spread of sweet, tender heat to his chest. Real vitality, that.

“I,” Xavier slurs, blinking slowly up at Benji. Eyes heavy from exhaustion and desire alike. “I am not tapping out. I am a sexy little Caprisun.” He follows the declaration with a rather good impression of one sucking at an empty drink through a straw.

Looks incredibly endearing, his cheeks puckered, so Benji adjusts. Balances on one iron-strong hand spread across Xavier’s sternum. Somehow, he’s got enough blood left to blush right down his neck, throbbing and alive and red beneath the cold, brown spread of Benji’s fingers.

He drops to an elbow tucked between Xavier’s bite-riddled neck and shoulder, careful to brush all that messy hair aside as to not catch it beneath. He brings their chests together and that earns him a whine, another frail yet enthusiastic roll of that beautiful long body.

“You look pale.” Benji teases with a grin.

“Must be the anemia. Only possible reason.”

“Shut up, you fuckin’ loon.”

“Maaaaake me, ooh —“

Benji takes his cheeks in hand, squeezing until Xavier pouts for a loud peck.

It starts as a peck, anyway. The hand at Benji’s head slips into his hair, fingertips dragging soft circles into his scalp. He’s gotta deepen it then, tilt his chin to dip his tongue against Xavier’s, messy and moaning into each other.

Xavier is squirming when he breaks it with a gasp, both of them panting and rocking together once more. Benji licks at the wet, open o of that mouth. Files away the dazed, pathetically aroused pull of Xavier’s brows for later. Not that he’ll need it, because it’s rare that they manage to pull themselves apart.

“Need something?”

“Transfusion. Call 911.” His eyes go wide, because Benji lifts his own hand between their faces. “Oh, that’s not what I meant but — yeah. Fuck, Benj, yeah. Wee-ooo, wee-ooo. You hear the sirens?”

He’s smirking as he pricks the pad of his thumb with a fang, glistening with both saliva and pink, spit-thinned blood. The sharp edges splits his skin, brings a bubbling drop of red to the surface, and Benji moans when he laps it up with his own tongue.

“S-Sharing?” Xavier whispers, gaze locked to the sight so hungrily his eyes cross a little.

“With you, gorgeous? Always.”

He squeezes his thumb until another fresh orb of red comes out from the tiny wound. Xavier lifts weakly from the neck, leaning up to offer the ring of his parted lips, pink tongue stuck out.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Benji mutters under his breath. He watches, ruby eyes unblinkingly enraptured, as he rubs his thumb messily over Xavier’s full bottom lip, staining it like lipstick. “Fuckin’ hell, Xavier.”

Xavier waits for him to glance up, their eyes meeting with a crackle of lightning, to close his mouth around the digit and suck. And moan. His cheeks hollow suggestively lewd, the noise filthy and audible.

Benji’s forehead drops to the center of his his chest, skittering kisses off a trio of double-fanged bites dotted across a shoulder. Feels a little like he’s the one being drained.

#writing #UA #bp #xw #bp x xw #vampire au

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bl00dgutsgl0ry · 3 years

Text

Patch Me Up

Pairing - Vampire!Diluc x Fem!Reader

Warnings - 18+ NSFW, Blood kink obviously, marking kink, biting kink, sharp teeth BARK BARK, fingering, semi public sex??? I mean you guys were in a different room but it was still in a public establishment lol,

Word Count - 1.9k

Other Comments - Bro this idea was just way way way too good to pass up shout out to the anon who requested this because you know what's up; you got some good ass taste. And yes this does have Twilight vibes, what about it.

Ask - VAMPIRE DILUC SMUT I FUCKING BEG YOU

Diluc was a very secluded man, always keeping up thick walls, borderline impossible to penetrate; but there was something about you. You enraptured him, always wearing a bright kind smile when you saw him. Most people found his stand off-ish personality jarring, to which they regarded him with side eyes and cold shoulders unless asking for alcohol.

He looked forward to when you would come into his tavern, it was easy to spark up conversation. You quickly became one of his regulars when you first came into the tavern a few months ago. At first he regarded you with the same cold yet professional tone he regarded most of his customers with; but when you weren’t put off by it and asked how his day had been he was surprised to say the least. After that it was always a high point of his day asking you how your adventures were.

Today was different. You strolled into the tavern at your usual time, but when that door opened a strong delicious scent washed over Diluc. It made his mouth water and his throat burn. When he looked up to see what was going on, to see the cause of his bodily reactions, he saw you limping in; bruises and cuts covering your exhausted body. This was bad. You smelled way too good.

Diluc’s hands became clammy under his gloves, and a sheen of sweat formed on his forehead. He wanted- no, needed, to taste you. To drink you. You smelled almost candy-like, similar to when all of the sweet flowers came to bloom; but better. Diluc’s fists curled into tight balls behind the counter as you approached. He wanted to tell you to leave, to stop walking towards him, but he couldn’t bring himself to.

Were it anyone else and he would’ve quickly been able to shut down the issue by telling them to go see someone who could patch them up first, but this was you. There was something else too, something in the back of his mind. He was worried for you.

“Hey, how’s my favorite bartender doing?” Your voice was raspy, from what exactly Diluc didn’t know, but he wasn’t surprised from seeing your current state. Something in him warmed when you said that though.

“Uh, fine. More importantly, shouldn’t Barbara be patching you up? Why are you in my tavern bleeding on my floors.” Diluc tried to make his voice harsh, but it came out more sarcastic and joking. You chuckled in response to his statement.

“What, you can’t help me?” Diluc stiffened. You wanted him to help you? Why? He has shown no knowledge of medicine, let alone any real concern for you.

“I have no knowledge of medicine, why would you want me to patch you up?” Diluc was more than confused. There were so many other people you knew who were so much more capable of helping you. He was starting to get irritated, not particularly by you, but by your scent. It was driving him crazy and he was surprised he was able to keep his composure as well as he was right now.

“Listen you need to get help before you come in and drink (y/n). Not only are you obviously tired and hurt, you smell.” Shit. Shit you were gonna get suspicious of him and-

“No shit I smell! I’ve been sweating up a storm fighting things, Master Diluc.” Diluc was taken aback by your words, which seemed to be a running theme tonight. You just wouldn’t stop saying the oddest things.

“You’re not going to leave unless I help you, aren’t you?” You smiled victoriously as you shook your head ‘no’. Diluc sighed, as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He just had to get through this, then everything would stop. All the saliva, the burning of his throat, the sweating, the desire for you.

It was only when Diluc retrieved a few bandages from the emergency kit he had prepared and he began bandaging up your various cuts, did he notice just how attractive you were. Diluc had removed his gloves, and your skin was so soft under his surprisingly delicate fingers. He wanted to make sure he didn’t cause any discomfort to you, so he treated you like a thin sheet of glass.

There was a softness to him that he didn’t think existed anymore. He didn’t think he was capable of being so gentle with someone. You somehow brought out the best in him, in just the short time you’ve known each other. He never thought he would be able to get so close to someone again. Fuck he really liked you.

“Diluc, you don’t have to be so gentle with me; clearly I can take a beating.” A chuckle rumbled deep in the man’s chest, his crimson eyes never leaving the injury he was dressing.

“Pardon me for wanting you to be comfortable.” You giggled, and it was the most melodic noise he’d ever heard. He wanted to hear you laugh more.

Despite the soft atmosphere, there was still something primal deep within Diluc. He could feel it grow with the more time he spent taking in your delicious scent. If Diluc could blush, he was sure his face would be deep red by now. He wanted to take you right here and now, in the cellar where he kept all his beverages that weren’t needed behind the counter. He delicately moved some of your hair out of your face so he could get to a small scrape on your left cheek. He saw a blush rise to the high points of your cheeks, which only egged on his desire for you. All he could do was stare deep into your eyes. You were breathtaking.

Within seconds both or your lips collided together in a heated kiss. It was fierce and heartfelt. His hands grabbed at your body for purchase, and vice versa. It had the both of you panting, with each intake of oxygen you sent wafted over him stronger than ever before; you were like an addictive perfume. Without thinking Diluc pulled away, staring at your flushed face.

“Let me taste you, fuck I need to mark you up. Make you mine.” You nodded your head feverishly. Diluc’s mouth attacked your neck within seconds of your response, and suddenly his teeth punctured your skin. You blood landed on his tongue and he was addicted. You were his new favourite drug. You tasted exactly like he’d imagine, sweet and light; something he’d never get enough of.

“D..Diluc what-” Before you could finish your sentence, Diluc’s mouth unlatched from your neck, some of your blood smudged at the corner of his mouth.

“Shit (y/n) I apologize, you just.. Fuck you taste so good. I mean you smell so sweet but you taste even better I couldn’t control myself.”

“Diluc, are you like a vampire or something?” You chuckled a little, voice still a little breathy. By the tone of your voice, Diluc knew you meant that as a joke but when he didn’t respond the look on your face changed. The silence weighed heavy on top of Diluc, borderline suffocating. Diluc couldn’t meet your gaze.

“Keep going.” Your voice was soft, just above a whisper, as you moved your head to expose your neck even more. Diluc’s gaze snapped back up immediately to yours, then down to your neck. Then his gaze drifted further down. He was hard.

He attacked your neck once more, getting taken away but how good you tasted. After a few moments, a small moan escaped your lips, so quiet that Diluc would’ve missed it were he not have been hyper aware of your breathing. Once again Diluc’s mouth left your neck, but this time his hands started to roam down towards your pants. He stopped just before unbuttoning them.

“Is… is this alright (y/n)?” You didn’t even respond verbally, just nodding enthusiastically before gripping onto his shoulders. Without anymore hesitation Diluc unbuttoned your pants and almost ripped them off of you. He quickly pinned up against the wall of the cellar, as he pulled your panties to the side and rubbed your clit. Your breath hitched in your throat, before a low moan escaped your lips.

Fueled on by your noise, Diluc retracted his hand from your clit and shoved two of his fingers into your already sopping cunt.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet already.” His fingers worked you open, as his dick strained against his uncomfortably tight slacks. He was becoming impatient, but he wanted to make sure you were nice and open so he didn’t hurt you. After a few more minutes of fingering, he could tell you were starting to become impatient as well.

“Diluc please, I need you. I need to feel you deep. Ah fuck Diluc please.” The strain in your voice when you said please shot straight to his dick, and who was he to refuse you? A dark smile graced his usually stoic features, and you shivered with anticipation. Diluc pulled his fingers out of you, before he licked his fingers clean. Everything about you was just so fucking delicious. Soon enough Diluc freed his hard cock from his pants. There was precum beading on the tip.

He picked you up, lifting you over his cock, before slowly lowering you down. Once you were finally sat right at the base of his dick, your back was once again pressed up against the wall, as he started to finally thrust in and out of you. It was slow for only a few moments, before he began a punishing pace. His hand had already gone to cover your mouth, muffling your loud moans. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to last long, you were so tight, but it seemed you were in a similar boat, as your walls constricted around him.

Your moans were growing in volume and pitch as you got closer and closer to the edge, and Diluc’s breathing was becoming labored, letting out low groans and growls. Before either of you knew it, both of you were cumming. Before you could finish, Diluc sunk his teeth into your neck one more time. He rocked both of you through your orgasms, before pulling away and setting you back down on the ground. He made sure to keep an arm around you though, just in case your legs decided to give out.

Slowly but surely both of you began to dress yourselves again; attempting to make yourselves presentable. After a few moments of silence, you spoke.

“So you’re a vampire. Do you have any cool powers?” You had a lopsided smile on your face, as Diluc chuckled and softly nudged your shoulder. You really were something else.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin imagine #genshin impact imagine #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #diluc #genshin diluc #genshin impact diluc #diluc smut #diluc x reader #diluc imagine

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

Note

Can I request a Compress x Reader? Babytrapping + Breeding?

Ohhh interesting, of course you can! I rarely write for the villains so this will be fun. You didn’t specify but because baby trapping I did fem!reader. I also just realized you might’ve meant reader baby trapping Compress but I wrote Compress baby trapping reader so I hope that’s what you wanted 😅

The following request contains dark content. Check the warnings before reading

Warnings for vomiting, pregnancy, manipulation, non-violent sexual assault (baby trapping), breeding kink, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), minor dumbification? (reader is very no thoughts, head empty during the smut), minor size kink, minor pain kink

Three years.

Three years together and yet you never would’ve guessed that your boyfriend is the notorious Mr. Compress of League of Villains infamy.

You first met Atsuhiro while working at a hole in the wall theater company. He came up to you after performing one night and had been so effortlessly charming that you’d instantly been put under his spell. He was more intelligent than all of your exes combined and could make you laugh like no one else could. It hadn’t taken long for you to fall totally and completely for the charming man you met that night.

But all of that came crashing down around you when he came home from a “business trip” with a prosthetic arm and no amount of half-assed excuses about an accident on stage could assuage your suspicions. He managed to dodge a confrontation with you for almost a week before you’d finally put the final pieces together and went to him to demand an explanation.

“You’re a terrorist Atsu!”

“That’s just what the heroes want you to think my love, don’t fall for their propaganda.”

“It’s not propaganda it’s just a fact! People have died because of your actions!”

“And how many more have suffered or died because of heroes and the society they created.”

“You’re deflecting. I have always indulged your rants about hero society but this is too far! The man I fell in love with would never stoop to this level!”

Atsuhiro crosses the room to you in two quick strides, cradling your face gently with his hand while you feel the cool metal of his other find your hip, fingers slipping under your shirt.

“I’m still the man you fell in love with (y/n), I can assure you of that,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

“How could that possibly be?”

“Let me show you.”

He pulls you into a gentle kiss, reassuring in its care. As his lips move against yours, gently coaxing them to open so he can deepen the kiss and slip his tongue inside, you struggle to maintain your earlier anger. It’s a distraction and you know it is but it’s hard to resist as he starts to move you both back towards your bedroom. He makes quick work of your clothes and by the time your back hits the plush of your mattress you’re both already naked. His mouth finally releases yours to travel down your body, leaving bruises in his wake as he marks you as his.

“Atsu, wait we should, ah-” you start but he quickly shushes you before licking a long stripe up your waiting sex.

“Just relax Angel, let me take care of you. Let your thoughts drift away,” he all but purrs.

You try to focus on the conversation you know the two of you need to have but it slips from your fingers like grains of sand as he brings one hand to your swollen clit and starts rubbing slow circles. Your hands tighten in the sheets as he draws a low, keening whine out of you. His hazel eyes dance with smug satisfaction as he watches you try and fail to form a coherent thought. He doesn’t let up the pressure on your clit for even a moment as he drops his mouth to your waiting cunt and plunges his tongue inside. Your hand flies down to his curly hair on impulse, tangling in the brown locks and gripping tight. Your nails scratch along his scalp and your tight grip tugs at the roots of his hair but he loves the pain of it, knows it’s a sign he’s doing well as he brings up his free hand to add two fingers inside you as well. After so long together he knows your body just as well as you do and it takes no time at all for him to find that one spot inside you that has you seeing stars. Your climax builds and builds until you finally crash through the peaks of your pleasure, walls fluttering around your lover’s tongue and fingers as he coaxes you through your orgasm.

You’ve barely had time to recover from your orgasm before you can feel his erection pressing at your entrance. “W-wait, Atsu, condom,” you pant, shifting in the bed to reach for the bedside drawer but Atsuhiro stops you. “We don’t need it baby, wanna feel closer to you,” he murmurs, pressing kisses along your face as he eases you back down to laying flat on the bed. “But what if-” “You’re on birth control right?” he cuts you off. “I mean yea but-” “Then it’ll be fine, you worry too much.”

Any further protests you might’ve had are immediately silenced as a snap of your boyfriend’s hips has the tip of his cock brushing your cervix. You gasp as your body attempts to adjust to his girth. “You’re taking me so well baby, isn’t this so much better? Feel how close we are. Nothing between us, just as it should be,” he coos and it does feel good, good enough that despite the voice in your head telling you you should be cautious, you only nod and beg for more. The grin Atsuhiro gives you is almost blinding right before he presses his lips to yours, kissing you greedily as he slowly withdraws his hard cock before pushing back inside you again. You whimper and whine into his mouth as he starts to pick up the pace, each thrust more brutal than the last. Eventually he leans back and away from you, shifting your hips so he can plunge himself in deeper, but with his lips no longer occupied with yours he’s free to let his thoughts spill out and into the room:

“Gonna fill you up so well, fuck, my beautiful Angel.”

“You and me forever baby, gonna look so good round with my kids.”

“Taking my cock so well, can’t wait until you’re full of my seed.”

The words wash over you but barely register. There’s no room in your brain left for anything else as Atsuhiro takes over every corner of it. Language becomes a foreign concept to you, barely able to articulate your own pleasure in more than the sinful sounds dripping from your lips, let alone trying to process your boyfriend’s ramblings. His thrusts start getting sloppier as he brings one hand between you both to stroke your clit and push you over the edge with him. “I’m so close angel, I’m so close. Cum with me. Want you to finish with me while I stuff you full of my cum,” he pants and all you can do is nod as the coil in your belly winds tighter and tighter. As you clench harder around him he goes toppling over the edge first, crying out your name as he spills his load inside you. You never would’ve anticipated enjoying it so much but it’s that feeling that sends you over the edge, falling apart around his cock as he finishes filling you with his cum.

He helps you come down from your high with sweet kisses and whispered words of encouragement, but as the haze of lust fades, you start to remember the fight you both were having before. As much as you would like for this to be the kind of thing you can just kiss and make up over, it’s not and you know it’s a conversation that needs to be finished. Looking at your boyfriend as he settles more comfortably on top of you though, you can’t bring yourself to ruin the moment. Sleep is weighing heavy on your eyelids anyway so you resolve yourself to bring it up the next day.

Except the next day ends the same way.

And the day after that.

And the day after that…

Every time you try to bring back up Atsuhiro’s secret double life as Mr. Compress he manages to distract you just long enough to get you back into bed. At first you tell yourself it’s not a big deal that the conversation’s been delayed a couple days, but then it turns into a week. A week of very hot sex, mind you, but if the existence of Atsuhiro’s double life was a red flag then certainly his insistence on avoiding discussing it is an even larger one. After two weeks you finally resolve yourself to talking to him the next morning over breakfast, no distractions and no avoiding the issue with sex. Cooking helps with your nerves, giving you something to do with your hands and a task to focus on to help you ignore your roiling stomach. You end up making almost an entire breakfast buffet by the time Atsuhiro emerges from your shared bedroom to join you in the kitchen.

He barely has time to tell you good morning before you’re rushing him to the table and setting plates full of food down. You know you have to tread carefully so you use the time you both spend eating to organize your thoughts. This time for sure you’ll talk to him. You finally open your mouth to confront Atsuhiro once and for all but as you feel bile start to crawl up your throat what comes out instead is “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

No sooner have you said the words are you shoving away from the table and rushing into the nearest bathroom. You get to the toilet just in time, fingers clutching the rim of the bowl as you violently eject the contents of your stomach into the water below. It burns your throat coming up and your eyes sting, but a warm, comforting presence is by your side in an instant, one hand coming up to rub your back gently as the other pulls your hair away from your face. Only once your stomach is thoroughly emptied does the heaving finally stop and you’re able to sit back and catch your breath. “Are you ok my love? What’s wrong?” Atsuhiro asks with gentle care as he pulls you close. You shake your head, unsure yourself of what had turned your stomach. Sure, you were nervous to talk to Atsuhiro but not that nervous. It can’t have been something you ate since all you’d had was the breakfast you made and you know everything was cooked properly. You rack your brain for an answer only to go rigid when you start to settle on one.

“Atsu what’s the date?”

“The 22nd baby, why?”

Your blood runs cold.

You’d been so preoccupied with figuring out things with Atsuhiro that you hadn’t even noticed how much time was slipping past but there’s no doubt about it. Your period is two weeks late.

“I think I need to go to the doctor,” you whisper. No way in hell you’ll leave this up to a drugstore test. There must be another explanation for your sudden nausea. Sure, you and Atsuhiro had pretty much abandoned condoms. Every time you started to reach for one, he’d remind you how good it felt not to use one the first time and convince you to forgo it again. But you’re on birth control! This isn’t supposed to be possible.

God bless him, Atsuhiro doesn’t press you any further on why exactly you want to go to the doctor instead of trying to find something at home to settle your stomach. He simply helps you off the floor and then grabs the keys to your car so he can drive you to the doctor himself. You’re incredibly grateful that he doesn’t seem to share your nerves. He’s a calming presence next to you as your anxiety kicks into overdrive.

You’d asked Atsuhiro to take a seat without you while you checked into the urgent care. You didn’t want him to hear you describe your symptoms to the nurse waiting there. The kind woman immediately suspects the same thing you do and leads you to the bathroom so you can pee in a cup. She’s sympathetic and reassuring as she tells you to return to the waiting room while the doctor runs the pregnancy test but it does little to soothe your frayed nerves. The air in the waiting room feels oppressive and when your name is finally called to go back and see the doctor, Atsuhiro’s hand in yours is probably the only thing that keeps you grounded. You take a seat on the examination table and instead of moving to sit down in one of the chairs in the room, Atsu stays by your side, whispering reassurances into your ear. “Whatever’s going on I’m here for you my love.”

The doctor strides into the room shortly afterwards, greeting you warmly even if somewhat absentmindedly as she moves to the computer to check for your details. She confirms your date of birth and then after scrolling for a bit her eyes finally land on the results of your test. She smiles and your heart sinks. “Well it looks like congratulations are in order, you’re pregnant!” she exclaims, beaming at you. A lump forms in your throat as tears threaten to fall, anxiety making your hands shake as the weight of the situation starts to crash down on you. The doctor misinterprets your reaction and as she leaves the room to get you pamphlets on what to expect and how best to take care of yourself during your pregnancy, her reassuring words that promise you’ll make a great mother are anything but.

As soon as the doctor leaves the room you break, tears cascading down your cheeks as your chest heaves. Atsuhiro pulls you into his embrace, letting you fall apart in his arms as you come to terms with the news. “I’m not ready to be a mom, I can’t do it on my own,” you cry, hands clenching onto his shirt. “I know my love, I know, but you’ll never be alone as long as you have me. I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you,” he assures you, pulling you in even closer.

As you continue to cry into his chest, murmuring hiccuping thank you’s between heaving sobs, Atsuhiro can’t help but smile to himself.

He’ll have to remember to thank Dr. Garaki for the fake birth control pills later.

General Taglist: @ahtsuwu @oikawaandkuroostan @larkspyrr @oliviasslut @black-rose-29

#hopeless.thirst #hopeless.dark #mr compress #mr compress smut #bnha mr compress #mr compress x reader #atsuhiro sako #atsuhiro sako x fem!reader #mr compress x fem!reader #atsuhiro sako x reader #pregnancy tw #vomit tw #baby trapping tw #hhrequests

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kiyosamu · 3 years

Text

how the hq boys sleep:

———✨———

rintarou suna

———✨———

more often than not, you and suna find yourselves dozing off together on the couch.

it’s not that you don’t want to go to bed, but you just have so much fun together. even as you get older, the two of you cherish the time you have with each other. like you were teenagers all over again. the movie you wanted to watch is over? he’ll put on another one. uncomfortable on the couch? good thing he’s huge and you can use him as your personal pillow.

he tends to fall asleep first. you’ll ask him if he wants to go to bed. you can tell from his heavy lidded eyes and soft spoken tone that he’s exhausted. he always insists he wants to stay up. “just one more episode” of the show neither of you were really paying attention to.

you always agree, because really, who are you to say no to him? it’s not like you don’t want to be there. laying in his arms is your favourite place in the world.

you’ll ask him a question about the show you’d mindlessly started to pay a shred of attention to, noticing his grip on you had loosened just a little bit. you look up at him when he doesn’t respond, realizing he’d fallen into a deep sleep only a few minutes after he swore he “wasn’t even tired.”

you lean up, cupping the soft skin of his cheek in your palm. he leans into your hand and sighs as he rests peacefully.

you slowly get off of him, the sudden lack of warmth of your bodies causing you both a bit of discomfort. suna wakes up and his eyes search for you immediately, but his expression turns into the sweet smile you love so much once he sees you folding the blanket that was draped over the two of you.

“come on, rin” you said as you turned off the tv. “let’s go to bed.”

“i’m not even tired” he half-heartedly protested as he sat up, running his fingers through his hair. you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as you took his hand and led him to your shared bedroom.

“sorry, i must have imagined you being fast asleep on the couch out there.” you teased.

“definitely. we both know your imagination is something else. should pay better attention, babe. i was ready for another movie.” he joked, pulling the blankets up and holding his arms out for you so you could both get comfortable.

suna hadn’t ever told you this, but the real reason he didn’t like sleeping in the bedroom much was because he just... couldn’t.

he loved the feeling of your body against his. he loved seeing your beautiful, peaceful face that showed him how much you trusted him. how safe you felt with him.

it was easy for him to fall asleep in the living room. the noise from the tv made it effortless for him to mindlessly drift away into a decent restful state.

the bedroom was different. it’s not that he didn’t like it - he did, he loved being in bed with you. it’s just that the quiet, dark room left him feeling... alone. the deafening silence and only his thoughts to keep himself occupied was way too much for him to be able to sleep.

sometimes he’d let you fall asleep, lay there for hours, even, until he knew you were in your deepest sleep. he’d get up, turn the tv on in the living room, and fall back asleep out there.

that was only when it got really bad, though.

most of the time he would put in his airpods and listen to a podcast or some music and scroll on his phone until he felt himself get tired again. he would always fall asleep eventually, but it was a struggle that he had to deal with almost every single night. the one thing you were blissfully unaware of, and he was okay with that.

you woke up to the feeling of suna’s nails softly scratching your scalp. you let out a soft sigh, nuzzling your face closer into his chest.

to your surprise, his fingers continued moving back and forth in your hair. something you loved, but it was also something he’d do when he was anxious and trying to ground himself. his hands were a dead giveaway when he wasn’t feeling quite right, he’d be rubbing his palms against his thighs, playing with his own hair, or, if you were close enough, touching you or rubbing you without even noticing it.

you looked up at him, noticing his face was dimly illuminated by the screen of his phone.

“rin? are you okay?”

“mm?” he looked down, locking his phone and running his hand down your back to rub soft, slow circles into your skin. “go back to sleep, baby. i’m sorry if i woke you up.” he said with a light kiss to your forehead.

you shook your head, putting your hand over his and bringing it to your lips. you kissed his palm and pressed it against your face.

“no, no, i woke up on my own. what’s wrong?”

he softly ran his thumb over your cheek. his eyes met yours, full of complete adoration for you. he’d noticed how attentive you were to him. how easily you could read him. he couldn’t ever hide anything from you, and he’d never want to.

“just feelin’ a bit anxious, can’t sleep...” he mumbled. suna tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, leaning down to kiss you on the lips.

you kissed him back happily, running your hand up his chest and through his hair.

suna pulled you closer to him, continuing his thoughts from before.

“not even anxious about anything in particular... just can’t shut my mind off, you know? and it’s so quiet in here i can’t distract myself.” he stopped himself there, feeling like he’d said too much already. you knew he struggled with anxiety, but he didn’t elaborate much because he never wanted you to worry about him.

you nodded, taking your time giving him a soothing back rub.

“want to put a movie on in here?” you suggested, still quite sleepy. he smiled at how sweet you sounded when you were so tired.

“i don’t wanna disturb you, baby. i’ll be okay. go back to sleep.”

you sat up, leaning over him to get the remote and turned on the tv. you handed it to him and settled back into your spot in his arms, but facing away from him this time.

“it’s fine, rin, i told you.” you mumbled, “i can sleep through anything.” you yawned, scooting back into him. “just want you to be comfy and have a good sleep...”

suna smiled, scooping you up in his arms and pulling you against him. he got comfortable behind you, completely wrapping you up in himself.

“love you so much” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “so sweet to me, so perfect for me...” he continued, smiling to himself when he noticed his voice had already put you back to sleep.

the tv stayed on the lowest volume, just enough to occupy his mind enough for him to finally drift into the sleep that he’d been longing for.

sleeping in the bedroom was never an issue after that night. leaving the television on was just another part of your nightly routine. suna had no problem falling asleep after that.

he became the one to start suggesting to go to bed together. knowing his sleeping problems were resolving, he realized how much more comfortable it really was in bed with you. he craved it. the closeness of your bodies, the way he could whisper sweet things to you and feel you relax in his arms just from his voice and his touch. there was nothing he loved more.

he hoped that someday he’d be able to sleep in silence, but the two of you were happy with this alternative. after all, all the two of you you really wanted was just to spend as much time as you could together.

#tw brief mentions of anxiety #hq drabble #suna drabble #suna fluff #suna x reader #haikyuu fluff #suna rintaro x you #suna rintaro headcanons #rintaro fluff #rintaro suna fluff #haikyu fluff #haikyu angst #haikyuu angst #rintarou suna fluff #suna #rintarou suna #rintaro suna #suna headcanons #suna hcs

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finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

could you do some angsty smut please??

oh hell yeah we can. this is going to be 70srockstar!harry with roadie!y/n eekkkk! okay have fun;

Being the girlfriend of the most famous, golden boy rockstar was the craziest rollercoaster you’d ever ride.

For the past 6 months you’ve been touring with the one and only Harry Styles, living your life between helping on tour, drinking endless amounts of wine and smoking a hell of a lot of weed. The job had come past you at the perfect moment. Your dad happened to be best friends with the tour manager, Jeff Azoff, who’d spoken of their being a job opening for a roadie. You were employed to help set up the musical equipment and test out the instruments before the act went on at night, falling in love for the man you roadied for was just an add on. A beautiful bonus.

It was a lot more pressure being Harry’s girlfriend than people thought though. There was so much pressure to act a certain way and present yourself another way. Harry was so idolised and craved by millions and it put pressure on you to be a certain person for him. You loved him so much and you were so scared that he might one day realise that there was so much better than you - at least in your eyes. Someone extroverted. Someone musically talented. Someone who wasn’t a virgin.

Harry had never pressured you into anything sexual unless you were ready. Of course he was notorious for being an above star rating, when it came fo sex - thanks to all the articles published by the many men and women, sometimes both together, he had slept with. The sex reputation went hand-in-hand with his rock-n-roll aesthetic, so that part of him would never change. You’d only been with Harry for 4 of those 6 months, managing to fall for him very quickly, so you wondered just how he was coping without having had sex for that long. He usually had a different person each night to take backstage after his concert to play with how he wanted, hence how he built his reputation, but since you there had been no one.

Sex was such a big thing for Harry though, so you couldn’t help but feel like you were letting him down.

Currently, you were sat on his bed on the tour bus reading an article that had been published about your boyfriend last week. Your heart strings tugged as you read one section of the interview.

Interviewer: The new album, tell me about it.

Harry: It’s coming on slowly yeah. Just want this one to be perfect so, taking my time.

Interviewer: What would you say your biggest inspiration is for writing?

Harry: Changed on every project, to be honest man. Sometimes it’s about past relationships. Sometimes it’s about issues i’m going through. A lot of the time it’s about sex!

Interviewer: Yeah, dude, I have noticed that like every other song is about sex. Is that something you’re quite open about?

Harry: I think sex can be either something so beautiful or so passionate. Don’t believe in sad sex! But, um, yeah i’m always really honest lyrically when it comes to the songs about sex and I hope others see it as that too.

Interviewer: No it definitely does! Thanks Harry for your time and, um, keep on having sex so that third album breaks even more records!

Harry: Will do man!

It was easy to understand why you were upset. Harry’s biggest inspiration wasn’t possible for this album, because you were too nervous to let him have you. All of you. You felt a burden, as if you were holding him back from living his life and creating something so amazing. His past two albums had been such hits for songs such as ‘She’ and ‘Only Angel’, which were inspired by the intimate times with past lovers. There would only be sad songs if he wrote an album without any spice.

That’s why as soon as Harry came back on the bus, dressed in shorts and a shirt that was unbuttoned to see his toned chest, you jumped him and kissed him like your life depended on him. He was taken back by surprise, but welcomed your lips nevertheless.

Pulling back he mumbled some words against your lips, “Well this is a nice welcome back gift.” He chuckled at the eagerness of your lips and let his hands roam over your body - from your neck to your waist and over your ass. This man knew what he was doing.

“Harry?” You whispered, stopping your kiss and looking at his beautiful swollen red lips. He was a sight for sore eyes.

“Yeah baby?” He kept himself close to you and you could feel the stiffie that he’d developed pressing against your front.

“Can we… I’m.. If you…”

“What baby? Can tell me anything, y’know that.”

“Wanna have sex with you.” You told him the most simple virgin way ever, your face heating up when you saw him smirking down at you. You’d screwed yourself over here and were getting all shy and embarrassed about it.

“Hey, no. Don’t hide from me,” He drew your face back to his and kept his eyes on yours to provide you some familiar comfort, “you sure?”

“Mhm, yes.” You nodded affirmatively.

“It might hurt a little, okay? First time means that your cute little pussy is going to be really tight. Don’t even know whether you’ll be able to take me.” He taunted you, cupping his hands to your cheeks and brushing his thumbs carefully over your skin to ease your tension.

“I w-will.” You moused out, wanting to be this person for him.

“‘Course you can. You’re my best girl and I know you’ll fit perfectly for me, yeah?” He rhetorically asked pushing you back to the bed and letting you flop there. You watched him as he discarded his clothes, following his lead, until you were both naked in front of each other. You’d been this far before, but this time it felt different. It felt more lustful and exposed and nerve-wracking.

Harry bent down and started to kiss you from your belly upwards, leaving kisses everywhere until he reached your jaw where he bit more than he kisses. He loved seeing his marks being left behind on your skin, proving to everyone that you were his and his alone. His hands found comfort ins kneading and squeezing your breasts like dough, loving the way they were so soft and yet so hard beneath his warm hands. As he found your lips and divulged in your sweet tastes, you slunk your hand down and grabbed ahold of his cock, pumping him a few times to get him primed. You felt the trickles of pre-cum drip from his tip and it only excited you even more.

Taking your lead, Harry pushed one of his hands in between your bodies and started playing with your wet cunt, paying extra attention to your needy clit. He knew you loved it when his fingers got rough, so that’s exactly how he played. His tongue was battling against yours, whilst you both stimulated pleasure to one another. The wet and beautiful sounds filled the room, heightening your arousal - Harry could feel it too, his fingers becoming wetter with every circle and pump of his fingers.

“You ready, baby?” He asked carefully, plucking his lips away from yours with a wet sounding smack. You already looked fucked out and he had barely done anything to you yet.

“Y-yes.” You stumbled, so excited yet so nervous. You were finally going to give Harry what he had been missing for so long and you were also going to let yourself go, and divulge in something new and potentially life-changing.

He leant back and rubbed his own cock for a few strokes, before lining the tip of it with your opening. He teased your entrance, making you bite your lip in anticipation. He smiled down at you and mouthed the words ‘I love you’ without any sounds leaving his lips, before you did the same. The head of his cock started to push in, but you didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it did.

“Shit fuck, y’so tight baby. Need you to relax for me, okay?” He asked, pulling away so he could watch your body relax. You closed your eyes and took a deep breathe, reminding yourself that the best way to relax is not to think about the problem itself but oh how you’d feel when the problem’s fixed. You smiled and once Harry could see your shoulders un-tense, he, once again, pushed his cock into your opening. He hissed at the contact, obviously finding it so pleasurable even if it was only minimal contact, but you, you felt so much pain and soreness from absolutely nothing.

You couldn’t do this.

“It should just…” Harry tried a different angle, but your smile had disappeared and your whole range of emotions had resumed to flat and disappointed in yourself. “Maybe if I just..” Harry tried to hold your legs a little wider and guide his cock more firmly into your opening, but each time he couldn’t push past a certain point without your body rejecting him or your facial expressions telling him he should stop.

“St-stop Harry please.” You cried, bringing your hands up to cover your face as you let the tears flow freely. “Please stop.”

“O-okay. Just gonna…” And he slid out as much as he’d managed to get in, which was probably less than an inch. It hurt when he pulled away and your cunt felt like it was on fire. It stung and it didn’t feel right. You felt like a failure and an embarrassment.

You cried into your arms, letting harsh sobs take over your body. You chest felt tight and your eyes stung worse than your cunt did. God, you couldn’t even do one thing for him. You were the reason why he was having a hard time writing at the moment. You were the reason people would be disappointed to hear no sex inspired songs on the album. He might even have to use past experiences as inspiration, which made your heart curl with jealousy. You didn’t feel like you were enough for him, like you would ever be enough for him.

“I’m so sorry Harry,” You sat up from the bed, not wanting to look at him and his disappointed expression as he stay knelt on the bed - cock looking painfully hard still. You scrambled for your t-shirt and your joggers and then walked out of the room, across the bus’ narrow corridor, and into the bathroom.

You looked at yourself in then mirror and were disappointed at what, or who, you saw. Looking back at you was the person who couldn’t even have sex. You couldn’t give Harry what he deserved. You were a failure and it was stamped all over your body. You cried as you looked at yourself, until you couldn’t and you just slid down the wall and onto the floor. You wished for the Earth to just swallow you whole. You couldn’t stand being here when you were clearly broken and useless.

Harry would surely leave you for this. Why would he want to stay with someone who couldn’t even get their boyfriends dick in their pussy? Couldn’t give each other that pleasure? Harry had so many people in the past and surely with you gone he’d have so many people in the future. It would be selfish of you to stay. Harry had needs you completely appreciated that, but it would be just so difficult to let him go when he means so much to you.

There was a quiet knock at the door, which broke you from your cries and self-deprecating. “Y/N? Baby honey? Can I come in, please?”

“S-sorry. Yes of c-course.” You stood up quickly, thinking that he was wanting to be let in to go to the toilet or to have a cold shower go get rid of the hard-on that you’d put there. Too bad you couldn’t have taken it away.

You unlocked the door and shuffled past him, only for him to stop you. He shut the bathroom door behind him, leaving you both infinitely pressed together in the pathway on the bus. He had you pressed you up against the side of the wall and kept his arms at either side of you.

“Sweets—”

“Harry, please don’t say anything. I-I know what you’re thinking and—”

“Yeah? And what am I thinking?” He asked, not moving away from you. You held your cries the best you could and took a deep breathe to continue.

“I’m a disappointment. I-I i’m not good enough. I’m broken.” You choked out, knocking your head back against the wall from frustration.

“Stop it.” Harry ordered firmly, gripping your cheeks in his hands and forcing you to look at him. The look in his eyes was so hard to read, but he looked desperate and worried and hurt. You hated to think that you were the cause of any of those emotions. “Just stop.” Harry’s own eyes were starting to fill with tears too and you brought your own hand up to catch a few of them before they could fall.

“Don’t cry, please.” You begged, keeping your hand pressed to his cheek which he absolutely adored. He loved the feeling of your skin against his. He never wanted to not have it.

“Then don’t say things that hurt me, okay? Hearing you say those things about yourself absolutely breaks m’heart flower. Just because you were a bit too tight to take me today does not mean that you’re a disappointment or you’re a failure or that you’re not good enough. It hurts to think that you’d ever think I would think that, because - fuck -,” Harry pressed his forehead tight against yours and fanned his lips lips over yours. His closeness was everything. “I love you so much it scares me. My feelings for you are so strong and so real. I want your forever and something as trivial as sex is never going to make me want otherwise. Do you get that?”

“B-but the album?” You asked.

“What about the album?”

“I-in the recent magazine interview you said that sex is your biggest i-inspiration. I can’t be that for you.”

“Is that what this is all about? Because you think that my album isn’t coming together because i’m not having sex? Did you miss the part where I said I wanted this one to be perfect and I was taking m’time with it?”

“No.”

“Well I did say that, because it’s for you baby. The whole thing is going to be for you. Every melody. Every lyric. Every song. Just and all for you.” Both of you were silently crying now, absorbed in each others love and adoration for one another.

“I-I didn’t know.”

“Now you do. This album isn’t really for the charts or the awards. It’s for you, m’heart. I love you for a lot more than your body and its’ pleasures.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, taking all his words in and realising how irrationally you’d acted out afterwards.

“For what, sweetheart?”

“For even thinking that you’d be so shallow and cold-hearted.”

“You didn’t think that though, baby. I know you and so I know you didn’t. Your thoughts were based around your own insecurities, not to do with your small-thinking over me.” He explained to you, making you nod and kick your lips.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Well then we don’t deserve each other.”

“But i’ll keep you forever if you’d let me.”

“Looks like we’re together forever then, baby honey.”

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