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nouvxllev · 3 months

Text

skill issues

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x G!p!Reader

Summary: in which you got reeled into a bandwagon of a fps game by mindy, anika, and chad.

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: smut. just pure smut.

a/n: i just love the idea of tara carpenter being a clingy partner (also my first time writing just a chapter full of smut.)

masterlist.

The clock ticked midnight. Probably even pass that. Actually, you didn't know anymore. Whatever was on your mind was completely erased and replaced by tiny pixels moving in your screen.

Ever since you've joined Tara's friend group, you've also been reeled into a bunch of activities they do on a daily basis. To binge watching scary movies you've begged them not to drag you in, to playing games they recommended to you.

You regret participating in the latter.

It's not like you were having fun, hell, you were having too much fun with this simple FPS mobile game they pulled you in, but the deep dark circles under your eyes were starting to show and you don't really eat anything except for the meals Tara cooks for you. Which are greatly appreciated by a kiss.

"Y/n, what the fuck!? I told you to cover me!" Mindy yelled over your headphones. Actually, it was Tara's headphones desperately lent over to you after days of quiet shouting that didn't really help.

You crouched in reply, knowing Mindy was spectating your character.

You killed, not one, not two, not even four people, but six at once in a group! 3 headshots and 3 body kills. You were pretty proud of yourself, honestly. You just started the game a few weeks ago and you're only getting better and better, you wanted to brag to Tara but she was fast asleep beside you. She was always beside you whenever you play those games with the group, cuddling you as you hold your phone up in the air, but she always ends up falling asleep when you do.

Chad laughs over his mic, "damn, we should've invited Y/n a long time ago. She's good at this game."

You laugh in response, bringing your voice to a whisper. "Even I didn't know I had this in me."

Ever since you and Tara finally made it official, you packed your things and said good riddance to your home and lived together with Tara. It was unexpected, even she was surprised by the spontaneous decision, but the two of you were happy in paradise. Not until you got dragged into the whole 'gaming with those two dipshits™ (by Tara Carpenter, of course.)'

"Anika—! Anika—Wait, shit Anika!" You scream, regrettably, while shooting the opposing team down. Obviously, the luck you had earlier had worn out and you were now staring down at your dead character, groaning.

"I didn't know they were there!" Anika apologized.

"Skill issue." Mindy chimed, you could tell she was leaning back in her chair, looking smug.

"Definitely." Chad blurted, a huff of air he let out.

You rolled your eyes. "Those who didn't carry the team with their 6-kill streak should actually shut up." You went back to the home screen after gg'ing the other team

"Another round?" You exclaimed, and the others cheerfully agreed in the background.

You forgot, for a split second, you were beside one of the most lightest sleepers in the world; your marvelous girlfriend Tara Carpenter. Someone could breathe in her vicinity and she'd almost immediately wake up. Which is why she's staring you down, burning holes in your neck, unimpressed look on her face.

"Y/n," she groaned, "I thought you'd be done by now."

You turned to look at her, and you could only hope it was the darkness fooling your eyes since Tara looked like she was about to scream if not for her reminding herself that you were her girlfriend.

You muted your mic, "One more round, I promise."

"You always say that." She whispered, her arms wrapping around your waist as you were sitting up and you almost melted in her arms, a sigh you let out.

You let your other hand let go of your phone and let your hand relax on her head, soothing her worries of you being on the verge of being one of those mentally unstable gamers who discarded their whole entire life.

Tara was still awake, you could tell by how she tilted her head slightly to look up at you and back to whatever game it is you were so engrossed in.

It was only a few seconds later before Mindy, Anika, and Chad were screaming into the mic and telling eachother to "defend, defend, defend!" or just curse at eachother.

And you, of course, was just resting in paradise while your girlfriend watches over you with half-lidded eyes. But you could tell she was trying to be awake.

You were getting into that headspace where your luck with getting kills increased, and damn were you so happy you could basically convince yourself you were the next top player at this game.

That was until you fumbled over a sniper shot, your finger slipping and your character dying. Your friends were yelling, laughing, but you couldn't focus. Not when Tara's hand was placed firmly on top of your cock.

You froze in place, your eyes, not focused on the screen anymore, but focused on somewhere in the darkness of your room. Her fingers tracing lazy circles around your clothed bulge, only getting larger the more she teases you.

You muted your mic, your hands clutching your phone as you suck in a moan. "Tara, wait, I'm—"

"—Playing?" She finished, looking up at you with her doe-eyes you knew you could never resist. "I'm sure you can play perfectly fine." She replied, her fingers sliding into the waistband of your shorts. You ultimately regretting, and thanking, that you weren't wearing anything underneath.

You were big, you haven't measured it yourself, but Tara worshipped it like it was (and is) so that was enough for confirmation. The tip of your cock was immediately leaking with pre-cum, and it didn't help when Tara kept stroking it, taking her time to graze her thumb along the head.

"Aren't you going to continue playing?" She looked at you, doe eyes and all as if she wasn't giving you the most perfect and maddening handjob you've ever received.

There was something in her voice, something that made you go fucking insane. And something that made you click that respawn button, playing it off as if nothing was happening down below.

You were desperately trying to get a kill, the amount of times you've pressed that damn respawn button was embarrassing. But how could you focus when the most prettiest girl was wrapping her warm lips around the tip of your dick, her hands taking care of the inches that wasn't in her mouth. Yet.

She removed her mouth away from your cock, a soft whine escaping your lips at the loss of contact, but then she adjusted her position. Her body going in between your thighs as she spreads them apart.

You almost, almost, went to heaven when she immediately reattached her soft lips to your dick and slowly started to go deeper.

It was almost pathetic how your hips bucked and your head was thrown back, your eyes rolling in pleasure.

And only a few seconds passed until she was bobbing her head up and down on your cock, her free hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Fuck, that turned you on even more.

You contemplated throwing the game, hell, even your phone, but Tara dug her perfectly manicured nails into your thighs when you were starting to put your phone down.

"Y/n, you're getting out of your game!"

"Noticed."

"I bet 20 bucks she's getting laid by Tara, right now."

The three of them, in order, Chad, Anika, and Mindy all teasing you for getting your dick sucked in the middle of the game. But you didn't care, at all. You didn't have enough trust in yourself to unmute and to deny all sayings, that were 100% true by the way, without having to hold back a moan.

"Fuck, Tara..." You manage to say in a whimper, your hand, which was supposed to be playing the game, was grabbing a handful of Tara's hair. Helping her take in what's left of you, and soon enough, her nose reached your chest, gagging a little bit in the process.

You were going crazy.

It was then you couldn't take it anymore. You grabbed her hair, a bit more forcefully, and started to shove yourself back and forth into her mouth. Your hips bucking and gradually getting speed. You could see how her eyes and jaw widened to take more of you. Spit and pre-cum dripping all over her mouth as she looked at you, tears staining her eyes while she closed them whenever she hit the base, gagging all over your cock.

You can feel your legs begin to shake, your head throwing back and your eyes rolling. But that didn't stop you from absolutely railing Tara's mouth against your dick until you've emptied yourself inside of her, forcing her to swallow all of your load.

A minute passed before you slowed down your movements, pulling an exhausted Tara out of your cock. She looked at you dumb, your own cum smeared all over her lips as a grin adorned her abused lips.

"I guess we can say I'm better than that stupid game you're always playing." She rasped, her voice hoarse.

"You did this because you were... jealous of me playing a game?" You chuckled, clearly out of breath. It was cute if you weren't so turned on by the fact Tara was looking at you like that.

She brought her hand up to her mouth, wiping away the excess cum with her thumb and licking it off. "I just wanted to tease you, baby."

You thought that was the end of it, not until Tara threw your phone and headphones away and started to climb on top of you, your still hardened cock right on top of her clit. You didn't even notice she wasn't wearing anything underneath as well until now.

"I'll get you a new one—" she breathed, "I promise. Just, please." She whimpered, god, fuck, you were going insane. "Just fuck me."

And that was everything you needed you hear.

You immediately flipped her around, "Y/n, what the FUCK!—" she screamed as you drilled your cock into her, your hips pulling out your dick and fully slamming it back into her pussy. A broken moan coming out of her lips.

"Shit... Tara, you're driving me crazy." Was all you could mutter before you went faster, your hands going to her hips to hold her steady, and your eyes were focused on your cock easily sliding in and out of her puffy folds, taking all of you at once while Tara could only moan, a new freshly coat of cum taking over your dick.

The way she squeezed around you, milking your cock for all it's worth, made you dizzy and your head start to spin. But that didn't stop you from completely destroying her bit by bit, aiming to break her down.

You pulled her closer to you, your hands going up to her shoulders and aggressively ramming her body against your shaft as if it wasn't so deep enough already. Tara couldn't say, mutter, or even speak a single sentence at this point.

You were fucking her dumb, and shit you loved it.

Your hands slithered up from her shoulders to her neck, lightly choking her before turning her head to you.

"You're so pretty like this, baby. So gorgeous and perfect." You muttered in her ear, every word coming to a hard thrust as Tara's mouth opened, attempting to say something but only coming out as a pathetic moan. "You wanna be fucked like a slut? Be fucked dumb out of your mind?"

Sliding your hands on her back, you pressed down firmly to create the perfect arch as her head was buried into the soft mattress, her hands curling up into a ball as she sobbed with pleasure. You can hear her moaning your name over and over again, screaming and sobbing muffled by the soft pillow under her.

"Answer me, Tara."

"Yes, please!" She pleaded, "God, oh my god." She gulped, her head falling back as she reached her second orgasm, her walls clamping down on your cock and cum dripping down from her abused and assaulted pussy.

Her legs gave up, but you didn't. You continued to ram into her, without a care that she was near peak exhaustion and her sobs were becoming more frequent. Your freehand that wasn't pressing down on her back going over to her clit, overstimulating her.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," you groaned, "Tara..."

"Cum'n me." She said, breathless, "please. Please, please, please, please—"

After that last plead, you came in her. Your body still thrusting into Tara as you lean towards her, "I love you. I love you so much, my favorite girl." You muttered, pressing kisses all over her cheeks and lips as she breathed for air. But that sweet moment didn't stop you from resuming to pound into her as if it was your last day on earth.

You kept your cock inside of her, pistoning it in and out as you stretched her pussy till it's limit. Until it recognized the shape of your dick, which, you succeeded. The both of you continued until Tara reached her actual peak of exhaustion and collapsed.

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

When Tara woke up, she was sore. Sore as fuck. Everything up and down from her head to toe was just relentless pain everywhere. That is, until she turned her head to see you just gazing at her. Softly. As if you didn't ruin her to pieces just hours before.

"Hey," you greeted her, a smile gracing your lips. Tara didn't realize, but you drew her a bath the second she passed out and took care of her yourself. Even changed her to her favorite outfit whenever she just wanted to lay around.

Tara smiled. Despite her sore legs, her sore everything actually, she still managed to cling onto you like a koala. Her arms crushing you as you hugged her back. "Hey." She whispered in your ear, kissing you gently. "Thanks, by the way. For taking care of me." She hugged you even tighter, which you reciprocated.

The two of you sat there for a few minutes, basking in eachothers presence and warmthness. Until you broke the silence. "Tell me the real reason." You pulled back from Tara's tight hug. (You tried to, she was unbudging.)

"I was." She raised an eyebrow, which you also reciprocated.

You chuckled. "I've been your girlfriend and bestfriend for a total of 3 years, Tara. You can't fool me."

She could almost roll her eyes right now if she wouldn't regret it later. "We haven't had sex in a while." She confessed, avoiding your eye contact. "Like, a whole month."

The adorableness there was to Tara Carpenter, the amazing girl you're blessed with, was beyond you. "You could've told me, Tara." You tucked a loose strand between her ear, "you know I like talking with you. Especially about something personal, or maybe something about in our relationship."

"I didn't know how to like," she paused, "really, really, express it." She explained, "also I couldn't since you were on that damn video game for weeks now!"

Yeah, you had to blame yourself for that. Or maybe the crew. "I solemnly swear to not play that game. Well, atleast that often." You held up your pinky, making a pinky promise that you always, always never broken in your life.

Tara chuckled, taking your pinky into hers. "Also your phone has been buzzing like crazy for the last few minutes."

"It's just Mindy bragging about she got rich because she was betting over our sex life."

"What!?" The younger Carpenter screamed.

"Don't worry too much about it." You shrugged it off. "Just a skill issue." You joked.

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

a/n: just needed to get this off my brain. idea popped into my head one random day and i've been thinking about it actually doing something about it, and it's probably something i need to do to take of my writers block!!

#tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega

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fangisms · 7 months

Text

spring breaks loose

A/N: idk what it is but every evermore song makes me want to write ab this lifeless-eye, sexy-ass, grumpy fool. so first up is ivy! gif creds: @audrey-inspo

Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader (implied Slytherin, but it doesn't matter)

Summary: Spring breaks loose, the time is near // What would they do if they found us out? 1.0k words

Warnings: fluff, secret... relationship?, major pining, kissing, lowk toxic friends (lovingly), friends to lovers

Everyone wants to know about your secret fling. But it's not a fling, they just wouldn't get it. It's not some silly affair; you're not even sure there's a word for it under the umbrella term of relationships. What you are sure of is that there is something tying you to Theo that you've never felt with anyone else.

And he feels it, too. It's one of the few things he lets himself feel. How could he resist it? You.

So you meet up some midnights, awkwardly brush knuckles in the courtyard, let yourselves speak candidly with each other while dodging watchful eyes. For a while, it's easy like coloring in the empty spaces between clear cut lines. As long as you've got a steady hand, it should be simple. Even fun. Until you have to start sharing crayons with your nosy group of friends.

"Anyone else want to know what's going on between those two?" Draco says. He nods to Theo's fingertips tracing your kneecap where it's bent over his thighs. And where your wrist hangs from his shoulder as his head rests back against the couch, nearly dozing off.

"Yeah, me!" Pansy chirps.

Mattheo scoffs, pointing at Theo, "look, he's smiling, the wanker!"

He lifts his head, bearing his knowing smirk with pride. He spares a glance at you, then. And you press your palm to your mouth to choke down a laugh.

"Come on," P whines, "tell us!"

"Yeah, if you can kiss in private, you can kiss in front of us, too."

You whip your head round, aghast at Mattheo's request: "We do not kiss in private. We don't kiss anywhere!"

Theo lifts your legs from his lap, "Seems like a good time to turn in—"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Draco urges, "Not so fast"—Surprisingly, Theo settles back down in his seat—"If there's nothing going on, then prove it. Kiss."

Theo looks over at you, defeated. You both know they'll never give this up, it'll be months and months of teasing either way. At least this way will shut them up for a few hours. You shrug, and he rolls his eyes when your friends cheer and whoop.

"You lot are perverted," he sighs, smiling at you, "we need better friends."

You lean in and whisper, "Let's get this over with so we can find new ones."

Theo cocks a brow, leaning in, meeting you nearly halfway when he brings his cold hand to your cheek, thumbing over the warm skin. He's going easy on you, letting you take the lead. You press your mouth to his, clumsy but careful when he shifts closer. He recoils when you put your hand on his chest and slide your tongue against his lips. He'd call himself shy, but you know that look of embarrassment when he pulls away. It makes you smile.

Your idiots clap and form a chorus of 'aw's. Mattheo whistles, breaking Theo away from your piercing eye contact so he can quietly threaten him.

"You didn't have to use tongue!" Pansy shrieks. You scoff and stare at her, counting down from three on your fingers. She bursts out into laughter when you lunge after her on one, tearing off towards the girls dorms in a fit of giggles.

Theo watches you turn back for just a second to wave him goodnight. He holds up his hand, and you twirl around and head for the top of the stairs. Once you're out of sight, he lands a kick to Mattheo's side.

"You complete idiot," he grumbles.

...

You'd been staring at the dark ceiling, listening to girls filter in through the doorway until no one was left downstairs. You couldn't find tranquility enough to sleep or even shut your eyes for a while and pretend.

As the clock chimes once through the window, you shiver and creep toward the crackling fire.

His footsteps are rapid on their way down the stairs. You whip around just as he lands at the bottom of the steps, letting out a breath as he smiles at you. Both shuffling towards each other, he tries not to move too quickly in his subtle desperation.

Still, you nearly crash into each other.

“Hi,” you whisper.

“Hello.”

“I was just look—”

“Looking for you. Me too,” Theo huffs.

A few seconds linger between your slowly rising chests, your fingers ticking at your sweater’s sleeves, and his pushing through his hair. You open your mouth to speak just as he begins as well, and you both snap your mouths shut.

“No! You were first,” you say.

“Ladies first,” he shakes his head, “please.”

“Alright.” Something in you seizes and what seemed so easier to admit a moment ago has now been snatched from your chest, shriveled into oblivion. “I… really liked kissing you.”

His eyes light up. “Me too.”

You grin and shift a little, surprised at how bright his eyes seem even in the darkness. How his hair still coils sweetly down from his hairline in the middle of the night. And how he can still see right through you when it’s almost pitch black. Save for the dim firelight.

“And also,” he says, “I’d like to kiss you more. For longer. If that’s… if that works for you.”

“Yes! Yes, it does. I do. I do, too.” You’re out of breath at the admission, and he nods, seemingly relieved by your dulcet enthusiasm for him and all he does.

So he kisses you, dipping close and stealing from you what he has always wanted. Just a peck, or maybe it escapes him a little and he leans into it. But he pulls back to find you’re practically attached to him and neither of you want it to end.

“So… I guess this changes everything?” Theo whispers, cupping your elbow when you reach for his shoulder.

You shake your head, “it doesn’t have to.”

“I want it to.”

masterlist

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wicchyy · 4 months

Text

—0.3 boundary less ; james potter

sum: you and James are best friends. right? /bestfriend!James

warnings: none rly

notes: i fully believe in being best friends with james yall will not have boundaries

You’ve been friends with James Potter for as long as you can remember. Since you were in diapers, perhaps. You’d bathe and splash around in the bath with him when you were younger. Your mums were close and you’d spend almost every holiday with the Potter family. It wasn’t a strange thing for you to be seen with James after all. You’d already been apart of James’ life since day one. You knew the marauders of course, the rest of them. But you chose not to be apart of their group, deciding that they could have their own fun of pranks and troublesome adventures.

You however always sat on the couch late at night, when the boys were out doing something you’d prefer not to take part in. Then when the clock struck midnight, they’d come inside with their hushed voices and footsteps trying not to alert anyone. But you would always be there to see none other than James.

If he’d been hurt or in need of a good night hug, you’d wait just a while before your bedtime to see his face. At least if you wanted your morning the next day to be a pleasant one. He was your best friend, your lucky charm, your favorite person.

…

James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter stepped inside the commons just to see your usual presence. But this time you weren’t practicing your charms or reading a muggle book. You were tucked in nicely with a big knit blanket, hair splayed on the pillows, snug in James’ warm quidditch sweater.

“I’m heading straight to bed, boys. Absolutely knackered.” Peter whispered, patting Remus on the back and saying his goodbyes quickly.

The other joined you on the couch. Remus grabbing the book from the floor, clearly after your use. He settled on the single chair beside you and Sirius quickly joined him, planting his arse on the floor and leaning against his boyfriend’s feet. They knew James’ routine so well, knowing he’d want to spend the few moment with you and waiting up for him.

James made his few steps toward you, brushing stray hairs from your face before blowing at it. He knew it was just the thing to wake you up. Your eyes fluttered immediately, waking up to seeing James Potter’s pretty face. It certainly was a way to wake you up.

“Jamie!” You slapped his chest, straightening up your body and rubbing sleep away from your eyes. James took his place comfortable beside you, placing your foot atop his lap and smiling softly at you.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He replied, “You sure y’not tired? I’ll take you up upstairs if you are.” James always had a way of making your heart beat faster with the way he expressed his care.

“I’m quite fine. I was waiting for you guys, y’know.” You sighed softly, leaning back comfortably.

“Missed you darlin’, your loverboy here has decided on some new pranks we’d like to put in action next week.” Remus chimed from behind you.

“Mm. Remind me again, Y/n. Why aren’t you ever present for our wonderful tricks?” Sirius says in his tired tone.

James chuckles, answering for you. “Because, Pads, she’s a good girl.” He pats your knee.

You smiled at your best friend, “Yes, Jamie. I am. But also, because I prefer the solitude of the commons rather than running around and creating trouble around the castle.”

“Mhm. I thought your preferred solitude was with me.” James smiles.

You retracted your legs from his lap and changed your position to sit beside him. Thighs touching, warmth immediately radiating off him and you were impatient for him to wrap his arms around you. James took your change of position as a sign to immediately circle his arm around your shoulders. “Certainly one of my favorite.”

Remus simply smiles at you while Sirius rolls his eyes. They’ve become used to this behavior by now. The absence of boundaries between you and James’ friendship was somewhat of a regular routine for their eyes.

James dips his head at the curve of your neck, his nose prodding at your soft skin. You can feel his mouth curving up to form a smile. James breathes out a soft sigh, the feeling causing shivers all over your skin. “You smell nice, sweetheart.” He lays his head on your shoulder and your hand starts to mess with his curls.

The intimacy of this— of your friendship, was something you’d always treasure between you two. You’ve been chastised by Sirius many times as he’s told you about the attachment you and James have. How both of you had been unable to secure a significant other as you played the part well in looking so.

“Wearing your sweater, so technically you smell nice.”

“Mm, no. ‘S just you, honey.”

You laughed lightly, your fingers still messing around with his hair. He loved it as well as you.

“Oi, can you both just get it over with? Go get a room and snog or some—“ Sirius complains.

“What Pads means is that perhaps we should bid you goodnight now. He’s quite tired.” Remus cuts in, pulling at Sirius’ shoulder and getting him to stand up.

Sirius starts, but hes quickly being pulled up the staircase by Remus. “What—? That’s not what I mean, Moons.”

James waves his friends off, relaxing now that no one ought to judge him for the version of himself when he’s with you.

“Christ, I never want to leave from your arms.” James flirts.

Your fingers stop messing with his curls, but instead grabs at the arm he has around your shoulders and pulls his face closer. You set his head on your lap, his face gazing up at you.

“Sorry, Jamie. Y’know how you make my lap warm.”

James just smiles softly up at you, taking your hands to both of his cheeks. He likes the warmth of your palms that have been lying beneath the blankets and near the fireplace. “Missed you today, sweetheart.”

“You always miss me, Jamesie.”

He smiles with his perfect lips, pouting like a baby knowing that you find his ridiculous look adoring. “True. However, I only have one class with you on Fridays and I have clubs the whole day after. And I promised the boys I’d discuss forward our plan today.”

“Too occupied to see me, hm?”

“Never. I truly am sorry, honey.”

You pinched his cheeks lightly, glancing just barely at his plump lips you so badly want to kiss. “You only have time for me when it’s late, James?”

“Oh, come on. You know it’s our time when it’s late.”

True. Nights like these were reserved for you and James only. And you wouldn’t have it any other way, truly.

“I guess I can accept your apology. With only one more request.”

James smiles up at you. “Stay at my dorm tonight?”

“Obviously.” You laughed, tracing James’ soft skin with your fingertips. “I’ve got my period today, need your aiding cuddles.”

“Course, sweetheart. I’ve always got ya, haven’t I?”

James positions his body to sit up and he places a quick, featherlight kiss on your cheek. He stands up from the place in your lap. “Come on now, up you go honey. Much warmer in my dorm.”

You grab his hand and intertwine them, standing up as James envelops you on his arms.

You’d never need anyone else if you would always have James with you, just like this.

💌 thanks for reading lovie! support me by reblogging <3

#harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #james potter #james potter blurb #james potter fanfiction #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter smut #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #marauders x y/n #marauders x you #marauders x reader #marauders fluff #marauders fandom #jam

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zephyrchama · 26 days

Text

You're wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets, warm and safe in your plush bed at the House of Lamentation. Your eyelids are heavy and you're tuckered out from another long day of devilsitting. The comfort and quiet feels amazing, and you're dozing off to sleep as the clock strikes midnight.

A grandfather clock in one of the manor's many distant hallways chimes to mark the occasion. Twelve reverberating rings.

And then a squeak.

You brush it off as part of a dream, or maybe you're so tired you're imagining things. Maybe someone passing by stepped on a sqeauky floorboard.

Two more muffled squeaks. Your eyelids flutter. It couldn't be a mouse, not after the thrashing Barbatos gave everyone last time the house got infested. You hear it a forth time, but decide the problem can wait until morning, if it's still around by then.

Another squeak, and an undeniable scream. Is that Asmodeus? This time your eyes are wide open and you jolt up. The squeaks are getting louder, and more frequent. You hear a scuffle happening downstairs, like things are being thrown about. Is the house under attack?

Nobody's come to get you. If there was any danger, one of the brothers would be at your doorstep in a heartbeat. The fact that they aren't fills you with a heavy anxiety.

The ground shudders and you hear Leviathan's scream. You're out of bed, grabbing the first solid thing you see for self-defense. Plates are crashing, you can't tell when one squeak stops and another begins. Is it safe to leave the room? What in the world is happening?

Your D.D.D. is quietly charging and shows no new notifications. Hesitantly, you open the bedroom door and step out into the hall.

The air smells like smoke and curses. The squeaking and shouting is so much louder. You hear Satan and Lucifer roaring as if engulfed in a fierce battle. They might need your help!

You run down the stairs. Mammon is strewn out on the bottom step, and you almost kick him in your haste.

"Mammon! What's happening?" You shakily try to hoist him up.

"They got me..." he rattles. "Can't... there's too many..." He's breathing so hard, he can hardly speak. Only stare towards the horror that awaits.

You pass Beelzebub and Belphegor hiding behind an upturned table. They're holding something, but you can't make it out in the dark. "Don't do it," they hiss, but the squeaking is too loud to hear them. They look like they've sustained heavy injuries too.

You sully forth. Leviathan is unconscious, having been thrown into a shelf. You rush to inspect him. He's covered in... paw marks? His hand is tightly gripped around a charred stick-like object.

You hardly even recognized poor Asmodeus laying feet away, covered in glass shards. He is not going to be happy about the state of his face when he wakes up.

A small explosion makes you jump, and you run into the living room. You thought you were prepared for anything. Your adrenaline is pumping, magic ready at your fingertips.

Lucifer and Satan are in the midst of a legendary battle. They're holding paws on sticks and fiercely booping each other, causing the sticks to squeak loudly with every impact. Satan laughs maniacally, charging towards Lucifer head-on as Lucifer parries magnificently.

What? What is going on?

"What's happening?"

The squeaking is so loud you can't even think straight. There are small fires everywhere. You side-step just in time to avoid a brick falling from the ceiling. Lucifer is so fast that your eyes can't keep up. You only see the afterimage of Satan's tail as he bounces off the walls with unrestrained murderous intent, sending more debris your way.

"Stop! Right! Now!" You yell with every fiber of your being.

The twins probably keeled over from the intensity of your pact command, too, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Lucifer and Satan tumble to the ground, stunned.

"When did you get there?" Satan's voice is shaky, almost overly excited.

"How long have you been there?" Lucifer asks. He sounds more surprised and concerned. Satan seizes this chance to boop him in the ear and Lucifer glares at him murderously.

"What's happening?" You repeat. The living room and surrounding areas are in shambles. The two people who usually have it together are embroiled in a crazy battle in the middle of the night, wielding squeaky paw sticks.

Lucifer and Satan boop each other simultaneously. "He started it."

#boopageddon in the HoL #i literally threw this together hope it makes sense happy april fools boopers #obey me #obey me!#obey me scenarios #omswd #obey me crack #obey me scenario #obey me oneshot #obey me drabble #obey me fanfic #obey me headcanon #obey me shall we date #obey me x mc #obey me lucifer #obey me satan

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devildomwriter · 4 months

Text

Heavenly Sleep | Beelzebub x Reader x Belphegor

.6K Words | GN! Reader | CW: Polygamy, slightly suggestive, mentions of anxiety

You heard the grandfather clock ticking slowly from side to side. A few moments ago it had chimed twelve times but this was not enough to wake Belphegor or Beelzebub. Beelzebub has one arm wrapped around you and was unconsciously sucking on your hair. As long as he wasn’t eating it, it didn’t bother you.

Belphegor was on your other side mumbling plans of war into your pillow. If his ideas of pranks for Lucifer were this good in his sleep, you worried Lucifer would really have it coming this time. If he forgot them you wouldn’t remind him. In the spirit of the holidays, even Lucifer needed a break. He was probably awake doing work for Diavolo in his study but Beel’s gentle snores were too loud for you to hear any scribbling of the pen.

You couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was the excitement of the holidays or maybe the equal amount of anxiety as it got busier, but you knew if you could fall asleep every night the way you were now, things would be fine.

You took a few deep breaths, you must’ve sounded stressed because this immediately stirred both brothers. Belphegor turned over and sleepily blinked open his eyes. He eyed the clock and yawned.

“You’re still awake?” He asked quietly and Beelzebub mumbled wordlessly in response and pulled your hair stuck to his wet lips.

Beelzebub sat up in his groggy state, confused as to why he was awake. “Hm…”

“___’s still awake,” Belphegor explained in a whisper.

Beelzebub’s eyes widened, more aware now and he looked down at you. “You okay?” He asked in what was meant to be a whisper but he was naturally loud.

You nodded, “Just trouble falling asleep.”

Beelzebub smiled, “you’re excited right? Tomorrow is Christmas Eve.”

Belphegor shook his head, “No, you’re stressed right? It got here so fast…” he yawned. Beelzebub frowned hoping this wasn’t the case but you rubbed your tired face.

“I don’t know. I’m just tired…but I can’t sleep.”

“Are we keeping you awake?” Beelzebub fretted and you shook your head.

“No, you’re making everything better,” you smiled and ruffled his hair. He smiled brightly and relaxed back into the pillow. He ran his hand across your stomach and applied gentle force, hoping to get you to lie back down.

Belphegor sat up more and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his side. It was amusing to see the twins in different positions than usual. Normally, Belphegor was snuggling against your belly while you rested in Beelzebub’s arms.

“Want us to help you?” Belphegor grinned cheekily and you blushed.

“No thank you,” you said in a hushed voice and Beelzebub looked up at you sadly.

“Are you sure? You always get sleepy after…” Belphegor smiled.

Beelzebub caught on to his brother’s plans and shifted his hand from your belly to your upper thigh.

“B-Beel,” you scolded. “It’s past midnight, we need to sleep.”

“But you aren’t though,” Belphegor reminded and you rolled your eyes. Dealing with Beelzebub’s antics and Belphegor’s surprising amount of lust was tiring enough, you didn’t need a threesome at midnight to add to the tiredness tomorrow.

But when Beelzebub slid his hand higher and Belphegor ran his tongue across your neck you gave in. You were too weak for your precious twins.

It was long past midnight when you finally did get to sleep and you slept more soundly than you had in many weeks.

Finally, the night was silent as Beelzebub and Belphegor huddled against you, arms wrapped around you protectively after a long night of sharing their love. For the three of you, there was no other way to fall into such a blissful heavenly sleep.

#obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub x reader #obey me belphegor x reader #omswd beelzebub #omswd belphegor #obey me 25 days of christmas #25 days of obey me christmas #obey me nsfwish #obey me fluff

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selkiecoded · 5 months

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the thing about sumire is that maruki gave her a knife and told her to cut off her heel so that she might better fit into her sisters glass slipper for when she is queen there shall never be need again for her to go on foot and she said okie dokie :3

#one of my outfit redesigns involves open toed shoes and gloves/socks that are white but taper to black to represent the soot on her. btw.#theres blood in the shoe. btw.#shes eve shes cain shes cinderellas stepsister shes frankensteins monster shes igor shes shiori fujisaki shes a boy shes kasumi shes silly #the clock chimes at midnight

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r0ttenhearts · 5 months

Text

inconvenience

alhaitham x reader

sypnosis: after alhaitham fails to show up for your birthday “party” things seem to go worse between you as well as your best friend kaveh

warnings: angst, no comfort, arguments

the clock chiming felt taunting with every minute that passed. every minute that passed with alhaitham nowhere in sight. every minute that got closer to midnight. a gentle sigh left your lips, the thickly frosted cake sat in front of you untouched. you were sure if you had lit the candles they would have been nothing but melted wax by now.

you weren’t sure why you wanted to believe things would be different tonight. with alhaitham’s busy schedule it made moments between you two scarce and few. only speaking for a few minutes in the morning, knowing he’d be gone all day. you didn’t blame him for it, no. how could you? he was busy doing his job as a scribe! piling onto his already busy schedule felt nauseating. but you trusted his promise he made to you only two weeks prior. a promise to come home early on your birthday, to celebrate together.

it felt so long ago now. the clock reading 11:46 and he still wasn’t home. the sound of the door opening perked you up, a wide smile on your face as you got up, ready to greet alhaitham.

“haitham! i- oh.”

the blonde haired architect smiled softly at you, your shoulders slumping. “hey kaveh, why’re you home so late?” you spoke softly as he came inside.

“i just got caught up with things, figured i’d rather finish them here.. where’s alhaitham? i thought you two would be together right about now?”

you shook your head softly, “i guess he got caught up with things as well.”

kaveh studied your face for a moment before smiling sadly, “happy birthday (y/n).” you whispered a quiet thank you as he walked to his room, the door shutting gently behind him.

a silent storm brewed in your mind and you couldn’t help but feel so defeated. your boyfriend of four years couldn’t bother to show up for your birthday? did he really think his work mattered more than you?

you remembered every time you passed up something with your friends or an event you had wanted to go to, just for alhaitham. considering his feelings and knowing he didn’t like those things. only wanting to spend time together even if it meant missing out on things you also deemed as important.

always taking his feelings and thoughts on certain things, but he couldn’t even come home for your birthday? your sigh was much more aggravated than it was before, your patience as thin as paper.

just as you were about to put the cake away the door opened, the clock reading 12:24. no words were said as you closed the fridge door, making your way past alhaitham before he stopped you. a firm hand on your shoulder.

“what, alhaitham? it’s late, i’m going to bed.” you attempted to shrug his hand off but he held his grip. “you’re angry, why are you upset with me?” alhaitham spoke cooly and composed.

you scoffed loudly, angry tears were trying to escape your eyes but you wouldn’t let them. you wouldn’t cry over him.

“oh, i wonder! i really do, alhaitham. maybe because it’s my birthday and you didn’t bother to show up? just a reminder since you seemed to have forgotten, or do you just not care? i don’t think i want to know the answer.” you spat out like poison. a look of annoyance crossed alhaitham’s face.

“are you serious? you’re behaving like a child over your birthday? i was busy with my work, you know this. don’t go pouting now because i forgot one meaningless day.”

he didn’t care. he didn’t care how much this meant to you, even after telling him stories of how you always went out of your way for others. only to be disappointed in return. the one day of the year you wanted to feel like you mattered, and he didn’t care. he was more bothered with you being upset than anything.

“you can’t be serious alhaitham. you promised me!”

“then i suppose that promise didn’t mean much as i don’t recall ever making one.”

any argument you had in your mind now died. he wouldn’t care for any reason to justify your anger, he had made up his mind. and he wasn’t sorry for any of it.

you didn’t say anything as his hand left your shoulder, walking past you to the kitchen for a late night sandwich. you quietly made your way to kaveh’s room, shutting the door as quietly as you could behind you. kaveh spun around in his chair, a look of confusion on his face.

“kaveh.. alhaitham didn’t care! he just didn’t care at all. i waited all night, you know? i waited and waited and blew off invitations to spend my birthday with dehya and the girls and he just.. just didn’t care! he called me a child and i-“

“(Y/N)!”

your emotional rambling stopped at the yell of your name. kaveh held the same expression alhaitham had when he looked at you not too long ago.

“you are being an inconvenience right now, i have so much to do and i can’t deal with this right now. we can talk about it later but i’m busy right now. so please, get out of my room.”

you didn’t say anything as you left his room. alhaitham scoffing as you two saw each other before he made his way to his own room. the door shutting behind him.

you had never felt so unwelcome in a place you had grown to love and call home. but if you weren’t wanted, you knew better than to stay. to fight for a place that wasn’t yours. with that, you quietly slipped away into the night. texts and calls being missed from the both of them as you made a new life outside of them.

taglist: @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @aqualesha @linkookie197 @xiaonscaraswife @foxlover1144 @reblog-crazily @sparklylanddetective @gh0sts0up @darliingyu @maxineslair @kenmabfasf @samarill @whorerificstuff

#genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x reader angst #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham angst #alhaitham #al haitam x reader #al haithem

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undercoverpena · 2 months

Text

midnight strikes, where is my prince?

frankie morales x reader

summary: he had been your neighbour. a man you'd stare at through blinds when he’d been on the front lawn. a man you’re now staring at through splintered shards of your mirror—because he saved you.

wordcount: <1k words warnings: happy Drabble Sunday—this week, ANGST 😂. there’s mentions of a break-in. frankie is there and he has a gun, so you know we’re okay. angst. inspired by a scene from scandal-if you know, you know (written on phone so apologies for spellings)

The clock by your bedside shows three minutes past twelve, marking another Saturday night in. One hand cradling your phone and the other reaching out to the cool embrace of the sheets.

You can almost feel the warmth they should hold, the gentle caress against skin that's missing. That promised to be back earlier—but earlier had been hours ago.

Now you’re alone, nestled in bed, having surrendered to its comfort for the past couple of hours.

No bustling club scene with sticky floors or the mingling scents of sweat and cologne as you attempt to order a Coke with ice at the bar. Instead, there's a quiet tranquillity, a peacefulness in the simplicity of your evening spent in restful solitude.

Or, there was.

Your back ripped up from the bedsheets at the first sound of glass shattering; something, in a room that isn’t this one, knocked over, crashing against tile or floorboards. Spilling—making a mess.

Then, there are footsteps. Loud—unashamed in their recklessness as they make their way through your home. The gait not matching what you’d expect, the sound nothing like one you listen out for with giddiness and a grin.

These sound like heavy boots. Not trainers or cowboy boots. Mind scrambling, searching for the things you've been told, taught—all just in case's and likely non-eventualities.

Nothing coming with ease, not as you imagine they're leaving invisible trails in whatever mess they’re making. Purpose-driven for what they're seeking, from the way you can hear them nearing—a quest for something specific, significant.

Slipping out of bed, your hand trembles as you slide the lock on your bedroom door. Standing there, bare feet planted on the cool wooden floor.

Panicked. Lost.

Uncertain of your next move or what it should be, courage dwindling. More small, helpless, than you’ve ever felt before—two things you cannot be if you have any hope of surviving this, making it through this, them.

Because you suspect they know you’re here now.

The lock turn had been loud. A click that had punctured through silence, fragmenting it, forcing attention to the door at the end of the hallway in the house they were moving through.

The one they chose deliberately.

Likely spotted that there was no vehicle on the drive—no light on. A home hand-picked for intrusion, likely assuming emptiness, all set to fill it with fear and loss.

Phone, you think. Moving, hand fumbling through the sheets, searching desperately for your phone until it finally rests in your palm. It emanates warmth, a comforting reminder of the aimless scrolling you had been immersed in before, as you unlock the screen with a hopeful swipe.

There's one number you think of. One.

As you dig for it, nervousness thrums you as though it’s been plucked like a string. It vibrating, chiming against bone, creating a song full of fear that’s made worse by the try of the handle—metal grating in their attempt.

Eyes focused on it.

It illuminated, catching a sliver of light from a nearby street lamp. You briefly admire its intricate details, unable to tear your gaze away, even as your chest tightens and pulse quickens with the realisation of their attempts to enter, pick, and force their way in.

It's too late when you become aware of the breeze of something moving past you.

A scream grows to escape, but a hand slides around your mouth—thumb over your nose, the noise buried and muffled against a palm.

Until your head turns. Landing on eyes that make you relax, make you calm. Brown, framed by loose curls and usually a smile.

“Shh, it’s me.”

He's here, close.

All pressed to you, hand remaining a cover to your panicked breaths—as the scent of him, all wooden, familiar, swarms you. It makes your heart hammer a fraction less; it makes your fingers grasp his thigh when he holds up a gun—his gun. The jeans are rough, worn, the pair so familiar to your palm as you ground yourself and seek stability.

You whimper his name, it muffled against his skin—each letter of it sketched across his hand.

It’s then the door splinters.

A set of things happening, one after the other. All seen through wide eyes and panicked breaths, a scream there, but never greeting the air as he releases you, shoves and moves you away.

It's a flurry, a rush, the person entering and then there being a struggle, things falling as your back meets the wallpapered wall, still cautious not to rip it, to make a mark—remembering what a fucker it was to hang.

You jolt at a thud.

It followed by silence, horrible, room-swallowing silence.

You should blink. Close your eyes. Turn away from it. The mess of crimson and the empty, open-eyed stare looking up at you—but you can’t. Compelled to hold it, watching the light fade as your ears ring, a persistent noise that refuses to fade, even when he stands before you, dominating your vision.

It doesn't quiet until Frankie says your name, a hand on your cheek, speaking it with urgency, all sharp letters, followed by: “Wait here, querida. Okay?”

And you do.

Arms gripping your waist, nails digging—hindering the shaking, desperate to force the falling apart to slow. To halt, as much as you can, the pieces of you fracturing from within as they crumble like pillars, falling to the floor of you in dusty chaos that brings only instability.

Thread by thread you undo, delicate fragments of your being splintering and dispersing within, falling like fragile petals, drifting to the depths of your core in a silent ballet of disintegration.

A soft, fading melody of dissolution plays, leaving behind a gentle dust of memories.

Of him. Frankie.

How once, a long time ago, he'd been just a neighbour. A man you'd stare at through blinds when he’d been on the front lawn. One who made you laugh at the mailbox.

Now, he's a man you’re staring at through splintered shards of your mirror—one you're in love with. One who had saved you.

"We should go," he suggests, breaking the silence with a gentle tone. Adding something akin to not safe.

His words don’t absolve it, not prompting your arms to release from your waist. A part of you, distant and desperate for control, somewhat fearing whether your knees will buckle if you let go.

If you slowly pry finger by finger whether you'll shatter, break—

"Hey, it's okay..."

Your mouth hangs open. Anger rising, balling up and clog in your throat as fingers grasp and crumple his shirt until it's a tight ball in your hands. Horrible, bone-wracking cries washing through you—like you’re being drowned—all uncontrollable as you attempt to mouth the word, "Why?"

But you know, just as his wide-brown eyes do.

Colombia.

Colombia had followed him home.

an: I can’t say a gift as that is mean, but @joelsgreenflannel likes angst and so here. 😂

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #catfish morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x reader #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction

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neopuppy · 7 months

Note

Jaemin would love a good gloryhole, he gives me crazy psychotic vibes

warning. ntm yet.. a smidge of fondling

“You’re going to work? This late?” Jaemin mumbles, pinching between his eyebrows where he’s sat with his face buried in a pile of books. “Who clocks in at midnight?”

“It’s an overnight job..” you shrug, tightening your coat. “That job fair I went to last week.. it was the only position that wouldn’t interfere with my class schedule.”

Jaemin sighs, leaning back against his computer chair until it creaks beneath his weight. “How are you going to keep up with your assignments?”

“That’s the thing,” clearing your throat nervously, you reply quickly, eager to end this conversation as you appear distracted patting your pockets for the house keys. “Factory prefers college students, don’t want to provide benefits or full-time positions, so the shifts are short, no more than 4 or 6 hours.”

“Oh..” Jaemin stands, stretching out his arms above his head as he approaches you. “I could drive you.”

“No!” You say abruptly, breaking into a smile at the sight of his face falling. “You already do enough for me, and I know you’re cramming for that big test.”

Jaemin waves it off, leaning near the door frame. “It’s not a big deal, I know the couch isn’t comfortable.”

On command at the mere mention of your makeshift bed your back aches, stretching to the side to relieve the pain and releasing a loud crack as you sport half a smile. “It’s not exactly a cloud but..”

“Better than the backseat of your best friend's car.” Jaemin adds, scratching his nape. “I hope at least..”

“Definitely,” you chime, setting your hand on the door handle. “Besides, this is only temporary.”

That’s what you have to remind yourself of daily, that this is just for now. A transition time you’ll forget about as soon as you’ve collected a month's pay. A draining and exhausting effort on your part, but the money..

“Seriously though, if you’re too tired for the walk back, I’ll leave my ringer on.” Jaemin’s hand lays over yours, gently squeezing. “Don’t hesitate to call me.”

“Of course, thanks Jaem.”

“Let’s not sit where she sleeps.”

“I mean..” Jeno scoffs, folding his knees to sit on the floor with his back against the couch. “It is a place to sit, you know.”

“Don’t be a dick.”

“I’m not.” Unlocking his phone, Jeno settles comfortably, head resting against the couch cushion you rest your head on every night. “You say that like I don’t offer her my bed all the time.”

“Which I’m sure she’d take you up on if you know—“ plopping down by his friend's side shoulder to shoulder, he raises an eyebrow. “You were not also in said bed naked from the waist down.”

Jeno shrugs, passing his phone to Jaemin. “Still beats a couch.”

“What’s this?”

“Something new and exciting that we should try.” Jeno explains, leaning in to scroll down the message board. “Know anything about gloryholes?”

Jaemin nearly chokes on his spit, eyes widening as he reads through the various comments describing the experience. “The fuck are you talking about..”

“You know what I’m talking about.” Jeno grins, reaching to jingle the keys in his pocket. “You down or what?”

“I dunno man..”

“I won’t tell anyone.” Sharing a curious look, Jeno raises his eyebrows up and down, pushing up from the floor to stand and extend his hand. “Just between us.”

“I don’t understand the point in paying for a quick fuck..” Jaemin says, disgruntled by the lists of prices before him. The trek to find this place was bad enough to begin with, and on tip of that $500 to get his dick wet? By a stranger no less?

“Two for one deal though.” Jeno notes, tapping the larger font with the price of $800 blown out beneath. “Hear me out, send me $250 and I’ll cover the rest.”

“W-what?” Jaemin stutters, surprised at how nonchalant his friend is about this whole situation. “Are you seriously down this bad?”

Jeno scoffs, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like that.” Counting out a wad of bills, he slides them beneath the black tinted window, specifying the two for one deal for them. “Don’t knock it until you try it alright?”

Bending lower near the opening he slid the money through, Jeno whispers. “Number 7 available?”

“You’ve..” Jaemin follows after him, pieces falling together as his friends leads the way through a long hall without question. “You do this a lot or something?”

“Define a lot.” He says, peering over his shoulder with a sleek smirk. “A couple of times.. nothing crazy yet. At least you have me here to make sure your first time is memorable.”

Jeno comes to a stop, dangling a key that’d been tucked between his palm. “Lucky number 7.” He nods to the rooms door, an ominous carved out text painted black glares back at him.

The door lock clicks, pushed open slowly as his friend steps aside for him to head in first. It’s empty for the most part. A few items stacked along a shelf, condoms, lube, sex toys. “Behind that.”

Jeno locks the door shut behind them, motioning toward a hung up drape obscuring the rest of the room. “Would you prefer to go alone? I’ll even let you have dibs since it’s your first visit.”

Jaemin dry swallows, swiping his tongue across his suddenly dry lips. “And do what?”

Jeno’s lips draw back in a cocky smile, shushing his friend as he nudges him forward. “One way to find out.”

Jaemin’s chest thumps, gulping down the invisible weight pressed against the back of his tongue. Slowly he steps forward, barely grazing the drape with his fingertips, the sight of his trembling hand solidifies the nerves shooting throughout his chest, nudged forward softly again as he steps a foot inside past the drape.

“Shit..” he mutters, biting down on his lip to hold back a groan. Three different holes line up the walls leaving his mind to race with nothing but depraved thoughts.

“Pick one.” You say quietly, barely echoed from behind the wall that hides you.

Jaemin’s neck stiffens, toeing his way closer past the smallest of the holes that meets him at hip level. The arrows above directing him where to insert himself.

“Seven.” Jeno speaks up from the drapes opening, closing it shut to lean against the wall. “This is my best friend, he’s a first timer.”

Jaemin’s eyes enlarge, tracing around the top of the largest entrance that can only be for one thing..

“Let him get a taste of what we paid for.”

Jeno moves to stand behind him, chest pressed to his friend's back. “Jesus man, don’t be nervous.” He grins, cupping under Jaemin’s elbow to direct his hand inside past the opening.

“Nothing to be scared of, especially not you.” He whispers, chin hooked on the largers shoulder, breathily laughing when his friend lets out a shocked gasp.

“Fuck.” Jaemin sucks in a breath, digits sliding between a soft warmth. The heat building in his chest erupts upon contact, lodging himself forward with his chest pressed to the wall as his fingers spread and he glides deeper between the familiar wrap of velvety inner thighs around his wrist. “Holy shit.”

“You wanna fuck that slut, right?” Jeno eggs on, patting his hip. “Get her nice and wet for us.”

#asks #nct hard hours #nct smut #nct dream hard hours #jaemin hard hours

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mitsies · 7 months

Text

❊ that love is like a star - gojo satoru . . waiting is scary, but sometimes it's all you can do.

somewhere in your bedroom, the clock on the wall chimes once, softly. it's midnight.

you're not asleep, like you should be. instead, you sit on top of the sheets of your too-big-for-one-person bed, staring at the door of your too-empty-for-just-you room, waiting for it to open. any minute now, you think. any hour. any day.

pulling your knees up to your chin, you rest your head with a heavy heart. you like to fancy yourself as a logical, rational person. you know that if your fiancé satoru was called down to assist on a mission, it would likely take longer than just a few hours to clean up the extent of the mess. you shouldn't worry as much as you do. he's always okay.

but still, there's an itch beneath your skin. a, irritating, persistent, gnawing itch. it's hard to wait, and it's harder to not know why you're waiting. your phone lies to the side of you, on the empty half of the bed; it reads 12:02, november 1st. you purse your lips. halloween was officially over, and a new month had begun.

october was always one of satoru's favourite months. for the candy, for the opportunity to scare little kids, for all of it. but he was always so cheesy, and every year he'd say that his favourite part of any month was the fact that it'd be spent with you. you pull your knees tighter to your chest and let your eyes flutter closed.

it's not uncommon to have him pulled away from you, or vice versa. as was the life both of you had been born into, and as were the career paths that you had both taken. time together was so rare, much harder to find than it was in your youth. the both of you met in your first year of school, and you knew what you were getting in to when you started dating him.

it's scary to think about. how you're both on borrowed time. how everyone you loved and held close was. there is never a night where you can live without fear, whether it be fear for yourself, or fear for someone you care about. and satoru, especially satoru. he doesn't talk about it often, if ever. he doesn't mention it, but you see it sometimes. the weight, the burden of it all. you see eyes with bags beneath them when he's woken by dreams of the past. you see hair, unusually disheveled, after days he can't find it in himself to do anything. you see smiles that aren't real enough to pull the dimple in his cheek in. you see concern, when he's the one waiting for you.

there is nothing you wouldn't do to make it go away. not for your sake, but his. if you could take away all the ache, all the pain, all the weight that drags behind him, all the skeletons in his closet, you would in a heartbeat. if you could take him away from this world and keep him safe, you wouldn't hesitate. but that's the worst part about the world you live in; that there is nothing you can do. there is nothing you can do but wait, wait, wait, for him to come home.

you check the time again. 12:04. a sigh of a breath slips past your lips. how long is a train ride to shibuya? you might consider going there soon. you're no use stuck at home, not as much as you could be on the scene.

shifting over to the side of the bed, you place your feet down on the cool, hard floor. and in the brief interval in which you wait for your eyes to adjust to the blue dark, the sound of a door creaking open penetrates the silence.

"satoru?" you breathe out, for the first time since he's been called away.

the door's motion pauses, and a familiar face pokes through the opening, "you're awake."

before you have a second to think, you're on your feet. the door is pulled out of the way, by you or him you don't know, and your arms are around his neck. he smells like iron, and salt, and snow and blood. and something must be wrong, you're right, because he remains silent. satoru lets you embrace him, and hold him close. he lets your hands card through his hair, he lets his face fall flush into the warm skin of your neck. he lets himself disappear into you, standing in the doorframe of the bedroom. waiting is scary, but it's okay now. he's safe in your arms, and in your room, and in your bed where you lead him. it's still too big because instead of being on his side, he lies on you. head on your chest, curled into your side like a cat soaking up warmth. he doesn't say a word, but he lets you keep him safe. he trusts you enough for that.

you don't know what happened in shibuya the night of october 31st. you do know, however, that it must've been bad. you feel his breathing, erratic, and creating gooseflesh on your chest, shoulder, and arm. but whatever had happened, is okay now. because you know that satoru is home. and he's not hurt, not visibly. and he's alive. and it's another night of life for the both of you, and it's another breath, and another chance. your attention is diverted when he exhales particularly sharply, and you choose to ask. "what happened?"

and he doesn't respond. you didn't expect him to, but he still doesn't. instead, he takes a deep, aching breath. you think you could hear his heart rattling in his chest if you listened close enough. and oh, you think, in this horrible world, you would die to keep him safe. you'd die for him to come home. to keep him in this room, skin-to-skin, ear pressed to your left side to listen to your heartbeat. he has suffered enough. he will suffer more. and on this borrowed time, he deserves to smile with his dimples and laugh with his full chest.

you will do anything to protect that.

flowers chosen: zinnia & southernwood . . everlasting affection & constancy

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