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yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago

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Title: Captured.

A Continuation of This Piece.

Pairing: Yandere!Geto x Reader x Yandere!Gojo (JJK).

Word Count: 3.3k.

TW: AFAB!Reader, Dub/Con -> Non/Con, Implied Kidnapping, Oral Sex, Threesomes, The Pervasive Aire of Homoerotica, Slight Exhibitionism/Voyeurism, Violence, Intimidation, and Biting. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

He let you wait outside while he booked a room. It was a test, obviously – to see if you’d try and run as soon as he let you out of his sight. You didn’t. You kept your back pressed against the peeling cement wall and your hands in your pockets as the man at the front desk screamed, as you listened to the slick sounds of carnage and Geto’s muffled laughter. By the time he came out, his clothes dotted with dark stains and his hands lathered in the same dripping scarlet, you thought you might’ve been too sick for whatever he wanted to do with you.

He held up a hand, two keys and their accompanying plastic tags hanging from each finger. “Pick a number, one through ten.”

You just wanted to get this over with. Then, you wouldn’t have to worry about monsters or mysterious men or any of this ever again. “Eight.”

“Oh, the honeymoon suite.” Your eyes widened, and he cocked his head to the side. “Kidding, kidding. That’ll have to wait, for now.”

The room was nicer than you’d expected. Not quite the oppressively beige monstrosity you’d feared, but not as far from the eye-bleedingly pink love hotel that’d be the permanent backdrop in your worst nightmares as you would’ve liked. Currently, you were sitting on the edge of a king-sized bed with faux-velvet sheets, staring at your feet as Geto washed his hands in the in-suite bathroom. So lost in your own spiraling thoughts, you didn’t notice the water shutting off, didn’t hear him approaching you until the mattress dipped at your side and a pair of hands came to rest on either side of your waist. In one smooth, effortless motion, you were hauled into his lap, left to balance on his thigh as his eyes raked over you unabashedly. “You should try to relax. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were afraid of me.” His hand fell to the hem of your sweater. You’d gotten dressed in a blind panic after waking up to an apartment crawling with those awful things, but now, you regretted not throwing on as many layers as you could, not putting as many barriers as you could between yourself and the feeling of his calloused fingers skirting over your skin. “I can help take the edge off, if you’d like.”

For the first time that day, you felt a spark of relief. “Do you have anything? I’m alright with pills.”

“I was thinking something more along the lines of…” His hand splayed over your stomach, his tone laced with a dark edge. “Choking you until you black-out, then having my way with your helpless body?”

“Oh.” Just as quickly, that spark was extinguished – crushed under an unforgiving heel and stamped into total nonexistence. “I… I think I’d rather be awake, thank you.”

He hummed, tapping two fingers against your hip. “Have it your way, little one.”

Without warning, you were thrown onto the center of the bed. Before you could haul yourself up, before you could fully realize what was going on, Geto was between your open legs, mouth latched onto the inside of your thigh and his hands tearing at your shorts. The flimsy material gave away easily, and your panties didn’t last much longer. You took back what you’d said about wearing less revealing clothes; making this take any longer than it already did would’ve been torture. As deftly as he worked, the knot of dread forming in your chest was faster, quickly overshadowing every rational thought you might’ve had in favor of telling you that you weren’t supposed to be here, that this was dangerous, that you didn’t know what was going on, that you—

His broad tongue laved over your now-exposed slit, and your panicked mind went completely blank. His mouth was hot, and he didn’t waste time, latching onto your clit and sucking before you could think to push him away. Your body, nerves fried by adrenaline and senses dialed up to the point of hypersensitivity, responded immediately, your back arching as you struggled to swallow back a fractured moan. He encouraged your reactions, laving over your clit as two of his fingers found their way to your now-dripping entrance.

His digits slipped into you without resistance, scissoring apart and splitting you open as your own hands balled around the sheets, as you locked your jaw into place and did what little you could swallow back any sounds that’d make you seem more pathetic than you already were. Your pitiful attempts at resistance earned a throaty chuckle that reverberated against your clit and made your thighs clench together. Vaguely, in the distance, you felt his hand curl around your ankle, then you were being bent in half, your legs thrown over his shoulders as he ate you out like a man starved. It was all you could do to keep your eyes shut, the tears that would’ve escaped otherwise safely locked away, to make sure you didn’t kick or thrash or do anything that’d make him decide you’d be more entertaining after you’d been half-mauled by one of his monsters. It was all you could do to keep your mind blank, to block out the terrible, wet noises rising up from between your thighs, to—

The door creaked as it swung open, and you scrambled to pull away from Geto, to cover yourself before someone saw you being brought to the brink of climax by a murderer. He held you in place, though, his grip turning vice-like as he kept you splayed-open and on-display for the familiar, white-haired stranger now standing in the doorway. “Satoru,” Geto started, still idly pumping his fingers into you. “How kind of you to join—”

He didn’t get a chance to finish. You closed your eyes, and when you opened them again, Gojo had him pinned to the far wall, a small crater blown into the cement where the point of collision would’ve been. You could see an orb of blinding, blue light forming in his other hand, but Geto only clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Keep your dick in your pants, pervert,” he purred, eyes flitting to you. “There are innocents nearby.”

The orb of light disappeared, but Gojo didn’t move. “I don’t mind getting my hands dirty.”

You watched a first form at Geto’s side, watched in a daze as his knuckles collided with Gojo’s cheek with enough force to send him flying across the room and into the side of the bed, fracturing the steel frame. “Me neither, ‘toru.”

Letting out a ragged exhale, Gojo pushed himself to his feet and their conversation devolved into a rush of blows and kicks and insults half-finished before Gojo’s fist collided with Geto’s chin or Geto caught Gojo’s throat in his teeth. Clothes were torn, blood spilled across cheap carpeting, and you blinked once, twice, before shaking your head and hauling yourself up and taking stock of the situation.

They were fighting. Eventually, one of them would probably win, and that winner would probably want to fuck you. Maybe, after that, one of them would also help you. Maybe.

Gojo caught Geto’s hair in his fist and pulled. You could’ve sworn you heard Geto moan.

Okay. Alright. Yeah. No. Fuck this, actually.

Slowly, careful not to make a sound, you stood up and pulled your sweater down to cover your still dripping cunt before inching towards the door which was, surprisingly, still in one piece (it would dawn on you later that Geto must’ve left it unlatched, if not open, much to your delayed mortification). You could figure something else out. There were two other people who knew about your monsters, which meant there must’ve been at least one more. Gojo had been wearing a uniform, when you first met him, running for your life from the mangled mess of teeth and claws that’d managed to sink its talons into you, and you thought you’d heard him mention a school. You could find someone else, someone who wouldn’t ask for sex, someone who wouldn’t know your name before you introduced yourself, someone who’d give you a protective charm or a talisman and then demand for money or unpaid labor in return. You could—

It felt like vertigo, like the surface of the Earth had shifted underneath you. Your body tilted, collapsed, and then Gojo’s arm was wrapped around your waist, his chest pressed into your back and his fingers burrowed into the flesh of your side. “Trying to get away?” His voice was raspy. Geto must’ve gotten his throat. “That’s not very nice.”

“You were the one who burst in uninvited and distracted me,” Geto muttered. His lip was busted, and he cracked his nose back into place as he hauled himself up from the floor. “If you hadn’t interrupted us, they’d still be cumming on my tongue so adorably.”

Gojo didn’t seem to pay him any mind. His attention remained fixed on you, his free hand drifting to your vulnerable pussy. Using his thumb, he gathered some of the slick staining your inner thighs, toying with it as he spoke. “I thought the first time I touched you like this would be more romantic.” He paused, his ears ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Or, the first time I touched you while you were awake, at least. It… it got harder to control myself, toward the end.”

You snapped to Geto, teeth bared. “This wasn’t what we agreed to. I don’t want to—”

“Don’t talk to him.” His fingers slipped into you, curling against the walls of your cunt. Your breath hitched in your chest, and Gojo pressed a fleeting kiss into your cheek. “Don’t look at him. He’s not supposed to be here.”

“I could say the same thing about you, Satoru.” Stretching his back, he made his way back to the bed and collapsed onto it, letting out a strained groan. “If I hadn’t been so kind as to donate all of those very valuable, very hard-to-come-by curses to your pitiful cause, you would’ve waited… how long? Another year before so much as breathing the same air as your little crush?” His half-lidded stare met yours, and he smirked. “You should have a taste. The poor thing is heavenly when they’re scared.”

“He’s always been this bossy. I’m sorry you had to deal with him on your own.” Gojo drew back, but didn’t let you go. Rather, he looped an arm under your knees and pulled you off your feet, carrying you back to that fucking bed. He laid you out with more care than Geto had, but his expression remained uncannily blank. He’d been blindfolded the first time you’d met, and whatever eyewear he’d come with had been either removed or torn away, revealing eyes that were almost painfully blue. The only mercy was his hair – long enough to fall over his face and obscure his empty gaze, his parted lips. His hand drifted to your injured leg, still bandaged from the knee down, and his lips quirked downward. “I’m sorry you had to get hurt, too. But…” He smiled, leaned in until his forehead rested against yours. “It’s good that we’ll get to be together, right?”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to tell him to stop touching you, to let you go home, but you couldn’t go home, so you said nothing.

Geto let out an exaggerated yawn. “I didn’t put this little reunion together because I wanted to hear you talk, ‘toru.”

“See what I mean? So fucking bossy.” And yet, one of his hands fell away from you. You heard fabric rustle, metal clink, and then his cock was free, prodding against the inside of your thigh. You could feel your heart drop into your stomach as your eyes broke away from his and raked over his pale shaft, his flushed head, already leaking beads of ivory precum. He was tall. They were both massive, but nothing attached to a human being should’ve been that big. “You’re lucky I’m letting you watch.”

“Who said I’d be watching?” So preoccupied by your own terror, you didn’t notice Geto shifting until you felt his hands on your sides, then at the hem of your sweater, pulling your only remaining protection over your head. You scrambled to stop him, but there wouldn’t have been much you could to do fend him off at your best, let alone in the state you’d been reduced to tonight. With a breathy chuckle, he finished stripping you down, his attention immediately falling to your chest. “You wouldn’t want me leaving you alone with him, would you, little one?” He bowed his head, catching your nipple with his teeth and pulling harshly. A pained whine slipped past your lips before you could choke it back, and he turned towards Gojo, grinning. “See? They like me.”

Whatever rage Gojo felt, he managed to bury it beneath a soft smile, a pulse of pure electricity in his eyes as he took his cock in his hand, dragging the tip over your entrance. You thrashed, kicked, fought, but he only cooed as he thrust into you, like he was trying to comfort you. Like you would need to be comforted if he just stopped.

He bottomed out, his hips pressing into yours with a blissful sigh, and you lurched forward, moving to claw at his eyes, to wrap your hands around his throat, to do something. Geto caught your wrists before you could so much as touch him, though – laughing as he forced your arms flush against the mattress. As Gojo started to move in earnest, Geto slotted his lips against yours, taking advantage of your distress to force his tongue into your mouth while Gojo fucked you open, whatever gentleness he’d been attempting to show you falling away in favor of burying himself that much deeper in your tight heat. As soon as Geto pulled away, Gojo took his place, his kiss not quite as aggressive but no less invasive, no less unwelcome. You should’ve never left your apartment. You should’ve never run from your monsters. At least they might’ve been kind enough to kill you quickly.

By the time he broke away from you, your vision was spotted with black, your lungs aching from a lack of oxygen. Jerkily, he straightened his back and raised a hand, his fingers soon tangled in Geto’s hair. You watched in a daze as teeth clashed against teeth and lips collided with a bruising force, and considered the terrifying possibility that you might’ve been the first person either of them had ever kissed.

Gojo’s pace turned erratic, his hold on your hip crushing. His pelvic bone caught on your clit every time he thrust into you. You’d been able to control yourself when faced with Geto’s teasing, but now, every little cracked moan and pained whimper slid past your lips, barely audible above the sound of slick squelching and skin slapping against skin. Unwillingly, you clenched around him, and Gojo doubled over with a throaty groan, burying his face in the side of your neck. You felt his mouth on your throat, then his teeth, sinking into your skin deep enough to draw blood. You clenched your eyes shut, willing your body to go numb to the pain, to ignore the coil of pure agony winding tighter in your core, but Geto caught your chin, forcing you to tilt your head back and stare up at him. “Trying to run away again so soon?”

“S-stop,” you half-sobbed, trying to pry his hand away from your face. “Don’t touch me—”

“We’ll have to bring a gag along, next time. That is, unless you learn to be more appreciative.” He shrugged his sweatpants below his waist, wrapping his fist around his cock and guiding it to your lips. “Open up, little one.”

You grit your teeth, keeping your mouth shut as tightly as you could, but Gojo bit down on your collarbone and you screamed, jerking against him. Geto took advantage of your misery, slipping a thumb into your mouth and prying your teeth apart, forcing his cock down your throat. “Bite down,” he muttered, voice low and tone sharpened, “and I’ll make sure he knocks you up.”

A wave of cold dread washed over you, but you didn’t have time to linger on your newly realized fear. Geto was already fucking your skull, already leaving you struggling not to choke as you tried to remember how to breathe around him. Where Gojo was uncontrolled, Geto almost seemed… unaffected, holding your head in place while he rolled his hips with the idle pace of a man determined to milk every second he could out of you. It was unbearable; the burning in your throat, the heat in your core, the feeling of Gojo battering into your cunt until you couldn’t stop your legs from twitching, your back from arching, your pussy from clenching around Gojo’s length and drawing a sinful noise from somewhere deep in his chest. You let out a ragged moan half-suffocated by Geto’s cock, and then you were coming undone around him, your body convulsing underneath his. Gojo wasn’t far behind. With a hitched groan, he pressed his hips into yours and pushed another open-mouthed kiss into your neck, making no attempt to pull out before flooding your pussy with something thick and awful.

Geto wasn’t far behind, his eyes falling shut as he came down your throat. For the longest time, neither of them moved, Geto forcing you to choke down every last drop of his cum while Gojo stare down at you, eyes blank and lips parted, his expression caught somewhere between tender and awe-struck.

Finally, he glanced away from you, looking to Geto instead. “Let’s switch. I want to feel their mouth.”

Geto let out a breath of a chuckle. With your body limp, your jaw slack, he pulled away from you, leaning just close enough to let his lips brush against your temple before straightening his back and moving to take Gojo’s place between your legs. “Whatever you say, lover boy.”

Hours later, when your skin was little more than a patchwork of hickeys and bruises and you couldn’t feel anything save for a constant, excruciating ache in your cunt, Geto had fallen asleep with his arm around your waist and Gojo laid next to you, head propped on his fist and a soft smile painted across his lips. You could see the sun starting to rise from behind the thin motel curtains, feel the dread that accompanied being in a strange place with strange men at a strange time, but it all seemed secondary, pushed to a distance by your exhaustion, your devastation. When Gojo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you out of Geto’s hold, all you could summon was a whine of protest, and even that was quickly glazed over with an airy laugh, a quiet hush.

Geto’s shirt (discarded three hours in, when he stepped aside for a shower while Gojo made you cum on his tongue for the fourth time) was pulled over your head, Gojo’s glasses (lost in the initial fight, found briefly while Geto was bouncing you on his cock with one hand and jerking Gojo off with the other, then lost again) snagged off the floor and pocketed. As he slipped out of the beaten motel door, you shut your eyes against the dim light, burying your face in his chest, and he encouraged you to, cupping the back of your neck as he pressed a kiss into your forehead. With his lips still lingering against your skin, he spoke, his voice muffled by his proximity. “It’s alright. You can sleep, if you need to.”

It might’ve been sweeter, if you hadn’t been able to feel every inch of his smile cutting into your skin.

“I promised I’d keep you safe, didn’t I?”

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bahablastplz · 10 months ago

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Best friend's brother: Chan x reader

Thinking about best friend's brother Chan that has always been secretly obsessed with you Content: extremely fluffy, slight hurt/comfort, smut, really vanilla smut but super sweet Warnings: Oral sex (f! receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex WC: 2000

Obviously, you and your best friend were inseparable. You grew up right next door, and her parents considered you to be another one of their children. You and Hannah were, for lack of a better word, siblings. Her older brother, however… that was a situation that you weren’t sure how to explain.

You had always harbored feelings for the older man, despite the guilt that ate away at you. You could never tell Hannah that, however. Nor would you ever tell Chan or let your desires come to fruition.

Which is why, once you came home for summer break you had no problem getting ready for your date at Hannah’s house. Though the thought of her brother being there made you gulp, you would just have to hope you wouldn’t run into him and everything would be fine–

“What’s got you dressed all up?” Of course, Chan appears from behind and makes eye contact with your reflection in the mirror. Hannah is sprawled across her bed and scrolling through her phone.

“She’s got a hot date,” Hannah replies, snarkily.

“Hot date?” Chan inquires while crossing his arms. He holds a slightly disapproving glare.

“Yeah, with some guy she met online. He’s a real smokeshow–”

“Hannah!” You say sharply, willing your best friend to somehow spare you the humility.

“Where is he taking you, hm?” Chan says with a small, teasing lilt to his voice.

“We’re going to a club…,” you whisper.

“On the first date? No no no, that’s just a recipe for disaster, Y/N.”

“It’ll be fine, Chan!” Hannah says. She doesn’t even bother to look him in the eye, so he bores holes into your own instead. He mutters out something about how he doesn’t like this and that you should really be careful before returning to his room.

As you finish getting ready, you admire yourself in the mirror. Your black dress hugs your body just right, and your makeup brings out just the right contrast to your face. Hannah says out loud exactly what you were thinking:

“You look hot.”

As you share your location with her and get ready to leave the house, it is almost 9 p.m. and your uber has arrived. Though you know the night will most likely not end up with you falling head over heels in love, you’re still hoping to have a good time and maybe get to know the guy more. However, before you step out the door you feel a hand grab your wrist.

Chan is looking at you with a look you don’t recognize in his eye and you pause, waiting for him to speak.

“Please, be careful. If anything happens, you have my number. I don’t care what time it is, you can reach out. It doesn’t matter if he’s being a creep or if you just don’t want to be there anymore, I will come and get you,” he says. He looks at you softly before adding, “And even if you don’t need me to get you, please text me when you’re home safe.” You could tell he was genuinely worried and this made your heart pang slightly, making it harder to will away the crush you have on the man.

Your date shows up late, for starters. After twenty minutes you take your first shot, and your second drink arrives when your date does. He is unapologetic and starts touching you the second he sees you–that’s when you realize he is already wasted. Letting out a groan, you humor him with one dance, but when he immediately starts grinding on you you decide you have had enough.

“I’m not really feeling it,” you say. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

The man scoffs and immediately becomes defensive. “C’mon darling, you’re not going to show up looking like that and then act like a prude, are you?” He spits out some more mean insults that you don’t hear, because you’re already out the door and dialing Chan’s number.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Are you okay–”

“I’m fine, can you please come and get me?”

“I walked out the door the second I saw your name flash on my screen,” he says. You hear his engine start and know he is telling the truth.

It’s cold outside, but Chan has the heat pumping in his car when he pulls up. You curl into yourself, feeling embarrassed at the situation you’ve found yourself in. The ride is silent, though it doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s playing your favorite music.

When he pulls up to your driveway, he puts his car into park.

You start talking before he says anything, even though you know he wasn’t going to force you.

“He showed up completely trashed and started touching me before I even really talked to him,” you said. Tears start streaming down your face and you hope that Chan won’t notice, but of course he does. He always does. He leans over the center console to wipe a tear away.

“He showed up drunk? Oh, I’m so sorry… you don’t deserve that,” he says. “I knew it was a bad idea.”

You know he’s trying to console you but you feel so defeated. “Why is it such a bad idea for me to want to go out and have fun?” You practically cry out. “Why does everybody else get to have a normal dating life and get to hook up with people and enjoy college, but when I try to do it it never works out?” Chan just nods along to your words.

“You just haven’t tried with the right person yet, Y/N…”

“There will never be a right person, because the one I want is you and that’s never going to happen!” You slap a hand over your mouth and stiffen when you realize what you had said, and when you meet Chan’s gaze you see that he’s staring at you with wide eyes. You’re completely sober now.

You are out of the car lightning fast, slamming the door behind you and racing to your house. You’re fully sobbing now as you unlock your door, but when you go to slam it behind you Chan sticks his foot in, holding it open. He uses the opportunity to invite himself in and immediately you’re in his arms, in a warm embrace.

“I’m sorry,” you say against his shoulder. “I didn’t mean it, I–”

“Don’t say that,” he warns. “Don’t you dare take it back.”

“Chan, I–” He pulls you away to meet your gaze, placing his hands around your face and using both his thumbs to wipe your tears away.

“Y/N, I have known you for as long as I’ve remembered and I’ve never seen a part of you that I hate,” he says. “I have fallen deeper and deeper in love with you every day, so to hear you say that… Please don’t take it back. Please don’t tell me that you don’t want this,” he trails off, his eyes darting to your lips.

You crash your lips into his at full force and breathe against him, completely enamored. He picks you up so that your legs are wrapped around his waist and carries you to your room, the one he had been in more times than you could count, all while keeping his lips locked against yours. He drops you onto your bed with a flop and you bounce, observing his admiring gaze. His lips are on you again, then they trail to your neck, leaving long burning kisses behind as he trails lower. His thumbs press into your waist.

“It made me sick,” he confesses. “The thought of you going to the club with some guy that was just going to use you. Some guy you had never met, someone who would never in a million years make you feel the way that I could.”

He drops to his knees at the edge of your bed, pulling you closer to his face by your hips. He pulls your legs apart, slotting his body in between them, and starts pressing soft kisses to your thighs. You watch his every move, your body relying on your elbows to keep you upright so you don’t miss a second of this.

“Say it again,” he pleads. “Tell me you want me, that you need me as bad as I need you.”

“Chan please,” you breathe out. “Wanted you for so long… Thought you’d never like me like that.”

“Are you kidding?” He chuckles. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted. Let me show you.” And with that, he lifts your dress up. It bunches against your waist messily and his nose presses into your clothed core. You groan out at the contact and he does as well, placing agonizingly slow kisses and licks against you. He grabs at your waistband and you lift your hips, allowing him to slide them off of your body. He wastes no time before diving back in and your head lolls back at the feeling.

“Look at me, please,” he begs. “Let me watch you fall apart.” Your eyes snap back to meet his gaze and you immediately feel so comforted and seen from his expression. It allows you to let yourself relax as he flicks and swirls his tongue around your clit.

He watches your every expression, every hitch of your breath and every buck of your hips, expertly making you fall apart on his tongue. One finger slides inside of your pussy, pumping in and out experimentally, and you feel yourself coming to your peak.

“God, Chan, please–”

“I gotcha, baby,” he says. “Come for me.” You fall apart for him completely knowing that he will be right there to put you back together, and he helps you ride out your high, observing the fucked-out look on your face as if it would be the only time he would ever see it.

You pant and reach for him and he interlocks his hand in yours, coming up to kiss you even more passionately than before. He presses his clothed bulge into your center and you hiss at the contact, still sensitive.

“Can I?” He asks.

“Please,” you respond. His pants are slid down and he pushes himself into you in a moment. You feel emotionally overwhelmed, looking down to see where you are completely and utterly connected. The way his breathing becomes shallow, you know he’s thinking the same thing.

He picks up one of your legs, wrapping around your shoulder and starts pistoning into you, and the change of angle makes you go utterly weak. Your back arches and his lips are against your skin, anywhere they get a chance to meet.

“All mine,” he grunts. His hips start slamming into yours faster, and one hand reaches up to cover your mouth, muffling any noises that might be starting to slip. “Say it… say you’re all mine and only I get to… fuck, see you like this.”

You can tell he’s close, and the hand that reaches down to start rubbing against your clit confirms your suspicions.

“Chan… so close… I’m all yours, Chan, please, please…” His name releases from your lips like a mantra, and as you feel yourself come to your high once again and clench around his length, he pulls you even closer, releasing himself into you.

Your arms wrap around him and your fingers run through his hair comfortingly as he collapses on top of you.

You and Chan have always been relatively close by association, particularly given the situation, but at the moment you and him are so intertwined you aren’t sure you can ever let go.

He holds you as you fall asleep that night.

“Do you think Hannah will be mad?” you ask.

“No way,” he mumbles against you. “She’s been trying to get us together for years.”

You laugh incredulously against the man. Though you weren’t expecting to find your true love that night, you guess life had other plans.

*** First real ff post on tumblr yay!! Welcome to my skz blog, I wanted to start off with something tame lol...I have a lot of really exciting things planned to post so stay tuned <3 Masterlist Recs

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erosiism · 6 months ago

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GENSHIN MEN AND…

prompt: HOW THEY WOULD REACT IF YOU SACRIFICED YOUR LIFE FOR THEM | part two

character(s): childe, ayato [part one is finished, it features diluc & zhongli]

warnings(s): angst ofc—mention of blood, my first post on tumblr so my writing style may be a little icky, inaccuracies since I haven’t looked up genshin lore for a hot minute

note(s): male reader, second person, present tense, not beta read

AYATO

note(s); you are his fiance

Your marriage alliance is purely for business. Ayato knows that. He’s the head of the Yashiro Commission's Kamisato plan—he’s busy, for god’s sake. He doesn’t want to waste time or beat around the bush: if he is to marry you, the only son of the L/n clan, he will, but he doesn’t want you to expect any pleasantries. He will be cordial and polite enough, but he doesn’t have the time to butter you up. He will mind his own business, and so will you. He is not one for earthly desires. He cares far more for his clan’s prestige and for surviving to play the role of a husband.

“[Name], right?” He smiles at you. You smile back, your posture stiff and your smile fixed painfully on your face. “I’m sure we know what this marriage is intended for.”

Your skin feels tight. “I do.”

“You can go to Thoma should you have any inquiries. My sister will help you too should you need anything.”

You tilt your head. Your tone is straightforward and blunt. “And you?”

“I’ll be busy,” Ayato says politely.

“I understand.”

There: your first conversation had been completely unremarkable and bland. But Ayato had appreciated that you had been straight to the point. You had been completely no nonsense, and Ayato at least, did not feel annoyed. He has too many things on his plate to deal with trivial things like romance: too many rival clans are trying to assassinate him, too many people are trying to destroy his clan. He does his own things, you do too. Occasionally you two meet—it’s just one house, after all, and you two make polite conversation. You make for a rather amusing partner at times, you make him laugh, and with you he feels relaxed.

Sometimes he plays the tricks he plays on Thoma; but it’s almost impressive to see you stomach the strange food he feeds you. You tease him with a rather sweet straight face; in calm tones, you poke fun at him. Ayato forgets that the two of you are married, at times, but there are also the rare times that he’s almost pleased.

Months pass after your encounter. The two of you have lapsed into a routine. Ayato finds that there are times he almost looks forward to the occasions the two of you meet. He starts planning brief instances where he can see you: he starts to finish his work a little quicker so he’ll be able to see you. He lessens your workload so you won’t be tired. He buys trinkets that remind him of you. He starts to reach out to you a lot more.

He notices you smiling more. You seem pleased, joyful, even at this.

(“Gosh,” Ayaka tells him once, smiling sweetly. “You two do act like a married couple.”

Married. Ah. Right. Ayato has nearly forgotten.)

One day, as he’s out, he spots a gem the color of your eyes. He spends a decidedly long time looking at it, choosing it carefully, before he tucks it in your pocket. You deserve to have nice things, he thinks to himself. And so he will give it to you. His husband.

But when he returns home, he doesn’t expect to see the sight of you barely breathing, your breaths shuddering, your body limp. Thoma and Ayaka are not in sight. They must have gone out today. And you…

The gem clinks in his pocket as he runs towards you.

“[Name],” Ayato calls for your messily, the words falling over each other as they spill from his mouth, “[Name]!”

The last word is a yell. “[Name], please…who did this to you?”

“Those bastards,” you say weakly, “from…that…clan…they wanted information. They…”

“And you—”

“I didn’t give it to them, if that’s what you were worried about,” you manage to choke out. “I know how important it was to you.”

The information. Right. The scrolls. Right. Important? Perhaps months ago Ayato would have agreed. After all, that was months, almost a year of hard work. But looking at you now, Ayato begged to differ. Here you were, bleeding out, dying, because of him.

You sacrificed yourself. You sacrificed yourself for him.

“I know what this marriage was intended for,” you repeat the words he had told you when you two had first met. His husband. His beloved husband. His darling. “I’ve honored it.”

“No,” Ayato cradles you, feeling as if life escapes your body. Your body is turning cold. “No!”

It’s too late. The gem rolls out of his pocket, and Ayato despairs.

The gem is no longer the color of your beautiful eyes.

It’s bathed in red.

CHILDE

note(s); you are from fatui

There are countless deaths when it comes to Fatui. It has become disturbingly normal. And you are Tartaglia’s subordinate. The eleventh harbinger’s associate. You two hit it off, immediately: you are of similar age, and you have a little brother the same age as Teucer. Or: you had a little brother. He was torn away from you because of your poor living conditions in Snezhnaya. And that was what spurred you on to make a last ditch attempt to join the Fatui to find a purpose somehow; to riddle yourself with work so you cannot think of your brother’s death.

Childe has been nothing but sweet to you so far. You have been seeing two sides of him: the tender, gentle side to him when he talks about Teucer, when he speaks of the little letters he gets from his siblings, or on the occasions he speaks to you. And the other is more wild; more bloodthirsty—and in those instances, you can see the marks that the Abyss has left on him. That uncontrollable urge to ravage everything in sight; to leave it broken and damaged.

Today is no different. The two of you tread the snow as you walk up the mountains. Childe is laughing as he is telling you stories. You listen to him like you always do. Neither of you spot the Ruin Guards. Not even three—by some wretched curse, there are five of them, lumbering behind. And by the time their shadows loom before the two of you, it’s too late.

Childe flinches; you reach out to him in desperation before you see him shift into his Foul Legacy form.

What rotten luck, you curse to yourself, adrenaline starting to fill in. What kind of stupid thing have we walked into?

You have seen him use it a few times—once against three Ruin Guards. He defeated them without much difficulty—but you had seen the after effects. You had seen the way he had panted for his breath; the way his face had turned pale, the way he had quivered and had grasped onto you and the Traveler for help.

He does the same. There’s still two remaining, and Childe’s still standing. But you see him clutching his head. You think of Teucer. Childe has a family to return to. You have no one. In a way, this action would be the most logical. The most understanding. It will be a sacrifice for Childe and his brother. You know the pain of losing a brother—you don’t want Teucer to go through that again.

“I think I can handle them,” you tell Childe quietly. You don’t have a vision, but you have a delusion you have yet to use. “Go. Rest.”

“[Name],” Childe warns.

“Teucer.” Is the only word you say.

Childe’s eyes widen. He bites his lip. He sees your point—you knew he would.

“I’ll come back alive,” you promise.

“[Name],” he tries again.

“See you later.” It’s a clear dismissal.

You push him a little to the side; Childe stumbles away. Then you quickly unleash the delusion you have kept and unsheathe your sword. Childe was the one that taught you how to use a sword—and now you recall his advice as you step to the side. The delusion has potentially lethal consequences. You know that. It’s your first time using it. You know that too. The energy thrums in your fingertips as you start to battle—the crimson lashes out between your teeth and blows start to rain on you.

You think of your brother. It was your lack of strength that caused his death—you can still remember his shouts, his screams—and even now they haunt you. You don’t waver, but your stance and your attacks become sloppy. Useless, you think harshly, useless! I can’t even—

The delusion unleashes more power in your desperation. The ruin guards start to sway and fall. You continue, but now blood is bursting from every crevice, every corner: wounds open, flesh tears away, and your mouth overflows with blood. The ventricles of your heart seem to be pulsing dangerously—the delusion is ripping away your mortality in return for its power. You continue. Your eyes start to tear—

Thuds tell you of the defeat of the guards. You slump in relief. Your feet carried you to Childe, who has collapsed on the ground.

“Childe,” you call weakly. “I…”

The words don’t leave your throat. Your broken stance is not the one that jolts him from his consciousness, but it is the splutter of blood and the horrid gargle your throat make when you start to retch out blood that horrifies him.

“[Name]!” He yells, “[Name]!”

“Let me close my eyes,” you plead. “I’m so tired.”

“No. Let’s—let’s get you to—”

“Please,” you start to beg him. “I think…”

Childe knows better. You will die if you close your eyes. He has to get you help—he can’t let you die.

Oh.

He has loved you. He loves you. He adores you.

“You promised me,” Childe starts to whisper brokenly, “you promised me, [Name]. You said you'd come back alive. You said you will…”

The promise is shattered when your head slips from his grasp.

Your first and last promise to him, broken.

comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact #x male reader #x male y/n #genshin x male reader #angst #hurt/no comfort #male reader insert #ayato x reader #childe x reader #eroswrites #male reader

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puckinghischier · 4 months ago

Text

I Don’t Dance

nico hischier x fem!reader

summary - nico hates dancing

notes - i saw a post about an interview earlier about nico where he said one thing he would never do is dancing and thus, an idea was born. i combined it with a request i have sitting in my inbox but it’s really more of a request cameo than based on the request itself. i hope you enjoy!! happy reading !

request - “i heard that!” “you were supposed to” with nico

[2.4k]

“I really don’t think he’s going to, Jack. You know how he is, he hates stuff like this,” you put the flyer down, knowing it would be a wasted attempt.

“I think you’d be surprised with what he would agree to if you were the one asking,” Jack tells you, ripping off one of the small pieces of perforated paper at the bottom of the same flyer.

The two of you were at a bar with the rest of the team right now, Jack taking on the role of bathroom buddy while Nico went to stand in the unusually long line at the bar. It’s here, in line for the small, single use bathroom, that you saw the poster for the amateur dance competition.

You squealed when you saw it, telling Jack how much you’ve always wanted to do one of those, even though you’ve never danced a day in your life. One of your absolute favorite shows is Dancing with the Stars, always forcing Nico to watch it with you anytime the two of you have a night in.

He always balks at why people agree to do the show, not understanding the desire to torture yourself during the dance lesson and do un-repairable damage to your feet in ballroom shoes.

“Not this though, he’s told me plenty about his dislike for dancing,” you reply, shoving the slip of paper into your small purse.

“C’mon, all you gotta do is bat your eyelashes at him and he’ll cave like an avalanche,” he waves off your comment, knowing how whipped Nico is when it comes to you.

Your response was a roll of your eyes, not pushing the subject any further.

Finally reaching the in-demand bathroom, you slip in and out quickly, Jack stood in front of the door ready to lead you back to the small section the team has taken over.

As you approach the table you were previously sitting at, you see Nico sitting there with drinks waiting on Jack and yourself.

“So, Cap, you gonna take your girl dancing?” Jack calls out as you reach the tall stools, launching yourself up onto one.

Nico stops the conversation he was in the middle of after being alerted to your arrival, confused at Jack’s words.

“What are you on about now, J?” Nico asks, rolling his eyes at Jack while reaching over and placing a hand on your leg.

Jack takes a sip of his beer before looking at Nico with a smirk. “Your girl here saw a flyer while in line for the bathroom and couldn’t contain her excitement at the thought of entering with you. But she’s under the impression you won’t do it. That’s not true, is it, Cap?”

Nico looks over to you for confirmation, the sheepish smile on your face all the proof he needs.

“Listen, she knows how I feel about dancing. Not a chance in hell that I’m subjecting myself to that torture,” he tells Jack, bringing his own beer to his lips.

“He’s just worried he’ll be no good and get beat,” you lean towards Jack, the loud volume of the bar causing you to worry about your voice being drowned out.

“I heard that!” Nico whines from beside of you, a pout on his face.

“You were supposed to,” you lean over and give a light pat to his cheek, pinching it slightly before bringing your hand down to rest on top of his on your leg.

Nico narrows his eyes as he looks into your own smug ones. “I would not get beat,” he declares, looking between Jack and yourself. “I just don’t think it’s a productive use of my time when I should be training, considering the off-season is coming up.”

“Dude, have you not seen how absolutely jacked some of the guys on Dancing with the Stars are? They’re so in shape it makes some of us look like dweebs,” Jesper adds to the conversation, having been listening from his seat on the opposite side of Nico from where you’re sitting.

“Jesp, not helping, man,” Nico whips his head over to his teammate. “How do you even know about that god-awful show, anyways?”

“It’s one of Nicole’s favorite shows. We watch it together all the time. Sometimes it makes me question my own athleticism. Those lifts they do? They go hard,” Jesper responds, clearly having a different opinion on the show than Nico.

“Of course you’d enjoy all the theatrics of that insane show. Why don’t you enter the contest with her then?” Nico scoffs out.

“Nah, think I’ll tell Nicole about it, see if she wants to go,” Jesper winks at you.

“See! Jesper is willing to do it for Nicole! C’mon, Neeks. Let’s go show up and beat the crap out of them. Wouldn’t you like bragging rights to hold over his head?” you exclaim, bringing both of your hands up to hang off of his arm closest to you.

“My god, see what you’ve started?” Nico waves a hand towards Jesper.

“It’s not his fault he sacrifices his own pride to make his girl happy. You could take a few lessons, Cap,” Jack chimes in again.

“Oh don’t even give me any lip, Jack, I do stuff for Y/N all the time, you don’t know even the half of what I’ve done because I know it makes her happy,” Nico defends himself.

“Apparently one of those things isn’t entering a silly little dance competition because he’s too embarrassed and scared of being beat,” Jesper teams up with Jack, causing the amused smile on your face to grow.

“For the love of god if I agree to do this will you guys shut the fuck up and leave me alone?” Nico says in frustration, throwing both of his arms up into the air.

“Yes,” Jesper and Jack say in unison.

“Then fine, I’ll do it. Sign us up,” he looks over at you, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose.

You squeal in excitement, giving Nico a quick kiss on the cheek before running off to call the number on the flyer.

A week later, you and Nico are in a dance studio with a dozen other couples learning how to waltz.

“Nico, you’re supposed to be the one leading. You have to make me follow your movements, not follow mine,” you scold him, looking down at his feet chasing yours.

“But you know what you’re doing and I don’t. Can’t you just lead until I get the hang of it?” he argues, trying to remember the steps you were shown earlier in the night.

“If you get used to me leading now, during the contest you won’t lead and we’ll lose points,” you explain, trying to switch the lead over to him mid step.

The falter in movement causes Nico to lose count, his foot moving too far to the left and pressing down on your toes.

You yelp out in both surprise and pain, causing Nico to stop his movements immediately.

“Oh, darling, I’m so sorry, are you okay?” he asks, dropping his hands from waltz position and crouching down to take a look at your already swelling toes.

“I’m fine. Think they’re just stubbed up. I’ll be fine. Let’s keep going, we have to practice,” you grit out, shaking your foot out and attempting to get back into position.

The second you put pressure on your squished foot, your leg gives out, your toes starting to throb.

“No, we’re done for the day. We need to get ice on those toes immediately. What if I broke one?” he rushes out, knowing his large, heavy feet could have done a number on your small, dainty ones.

“But, we have to practice,” you pout, trying to walk again, but getting the same result.

“We can practice later. Right now we need to get you off of that foot,” he says with a tone that oozes finality.

You give in, letting him lead you over to where you stored your stuff, leaning against the wall while Nico collects your belongings before following his lead out of the door.

Once the two of you get back to your apartment, he leads you over towards the couch, carefully taking off your dance shoes and propping your swollen foot on a pillow on the coffee table.

“I’m going to get some ice, stay put, okay?” is all he says before disappearing to your kitchen.

You grab your phone from your bag sitting next to you, snapping a picture of your foot and sending it to Nicole with the caption “Ballroom dancing? More like bum-foot dancing.”

When Nico comes back with the ice pack he uses for his back after particularly rough games, he wraps it around your foot, securing it in place with the velcro strap fastened around your ankle.

“Baby, I am so sorry. I was trying so hard to do the right steps so something like this wouldn’t happen, but I still managed to mess it up,” he apologizes, rubbing his hand up and down your leg while crouched in front of the couch. “Just another reason to add to the list of why I hate dancing.”

“It’s okay, I was distracting you. I’m sure after a day or two of rest I’ll be good as new and we can start practicing again. We only have a few more days until the competition,” you bring a hand over to run through his hair, scratching his scalp the way you know he likes.

“Are you serious? Your pinky toe is purple right now, and you’re worried about practicing again? Darling you need to go to the doctor tomorrow, not be thinking about how to master a right box turn,” he tells you, trying to talk some sense into you.

“But…the contest…” you speak softly, knowing he’s right, but not enjoying how you finally got him to agree to something like this and now being faced with the reality that it still won’t happen.

“Sweetheart, I promise I’ll enter another one with you once your foot is better, but there’s no way you can dance on these toes in a just few days,” he grabs your hands, heart breaking at your disappointment, knowing its his fault.

“I know…you’re right. Just sad about it. I’ll call the doctor tomorrow,” you give in. “But I’m holding you to that rain check. We’re showcasing our waltz eventually,” you wag your finger at him, giving him a small smile.

“Of course. Your wish is my command,” he tells you, moving to occupy the empty space next to you on the couch.

“So, movie night?” you suggest, reaching for the tv remote on the small table next to the arm of the couch you were leaning against.

“I’ll go make some popcorn,” Nico turns his head to face you, placing a small kiss on your nose before standing and making his way back to the kitchen.

Turning on the tv and browsing the movie selection, you find one that catches your eye and turn it on.

Your phone buzzes with a reply from Nicole. “Oh, I’m so sorry hunny!! Guess Nico really will do anything to get out of dancing! LOL!”

Sending her a quick picture of the movie you settled on, labeling it “revenge” with the devil emoji, you quickly put your phone away when you hear the sound of Nico’s socked feet walking towards you.

Nico enters the room with two bowls of popcorn, having added m&ms to yours, knowing you like the sweet and salty combination.

“Ready?” you ask him as he plops down beside you.

“Ready,” he confirms, handing you your bowl.

You press play on the movie, munching on your popcorn.

Nico settles in and focuses on the movie before you, slightly confused, because it seems like it’s started in the middle of the movie.

“Did you already start watching without me? I’m pretty sure this isn’t the beginning,” Nico starts to say, but is quickly cut off by the sound of music coming from the tv.

Realization dawns on his face, eyes snapping over to you. You refuse to look at Nico, head straight forward looking at the tv, but you can’t contain the laugh that starts to spill from your mouth.

“Are you serious? You really put this on?” Nico questions as the first few lyrics of “I Don’t Dance” from High School Musical 2 spills out of the tv speakers.

You start belly laughing, unable to keep a straight face as Chad and Ryan partake in a singing battle about sports and dancing.

“Yeah, ha-ha, very funny, Y/N. I’m just a dumb jock that refuses to dance, and you’re a theater geek that feels it’s her life mission to show me to the dark side,” he deadpans, enjoying the sound of your giggles.

“Oh, c’mon. Tell me this isn’t the perfect song to describe the past week. Me trying to make you into a dancer, you telling me you’re never going to enjoy it,” you say in-between laughs.

“Yeah, hilarious,” he fights his own grin, finding the comparison slightly more amusing as the scene plays out.

Nico’s phone dings at that moment, a text from Jesper coming through, a picture of Nico’s face photoshopped onto Chad Danforth’s body flashing on his phone screen.

Your laughter rings out again, this time louder than the first.

“What the-“ Nico looks over to you, confused.

“I may have shared what movie we were watching with Nicole. Guess Jesper saw the texts,” you wheeze out.

Nico rolls his eyes at you, knowing he won’t live this one down anytime soon.

“Just put Dancing with the Stars on and stop encouraging my teammates to harass me,” he types out a response to Jesper, handing you the remote as you wipe the laughter tears from your eyes.

The next day, when the doctor sends you home with a boot on for not one, but three broken toes, Nico makes it his mission to reverse the unintentional damage he did to you.

From carrying you around the apartment, to buying all of your favorite ice cream flavors and sweet snacks, to bringing every meal to you on the couch or in bed on a tray with a different apology note each time, to bringing you flowers every time he leaves to go get dinner, to now committing to sitting and watching every season of Dancing with the Stars with you starting from season one.

And when his teammates start calling him “Captain Chad” he just laughs and plays along, telling them all Jesper is the Ryan to his Chad when the Swedish forward sends the group chat a picture of the trophy him and Nicole won at the very competition that started all of this.

“Could’ve been us,” is all you say, looking over and seeing the picture of the large trophy.

“Better get to studying for next time, then, huh?” Nico responds, reaching over and pressing play on the tv remote, hearing the sound of Tom Bergeron’s voice for the millionth time this week.

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straylightdream · 2 months ago

Text

don’t blame me

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: xu minghao x stripper!f.reader

I would cross the line. I would waste my time. I would lose my mind. They say, "She's gone too far this time."

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non-idol au, sugar daddy au

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut warning below.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k

𝐚𝐧: inspired by the Taylor swift song of the same name Let me know if you’re interested in any other boys stories mentioned in this. You can also fill out this form helping me pick songs for the other boys. here. The rest or the boys stories will be in my svt m.list.

here is my SVT taglist if you’re interested being add please fill out this form.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex (mc is on birth control), choking, lingerie kink, hand job, stripping for money, talks of exchanging sex for money. Body worship, slut shaming (not by minghao), possessive hao, pussy whipped hao, creampie, mention of getting someone pregnant, named: baby, daisy

Living him made you feel like you were going insane. He made you feel things no other man had ever made you feel before. Things with him were absolutely intoxicating. He pushed you to things out of your comfort zone.

You broke every rule you had ever had before you met Xu Minghao. The number one rule you broke was, never fall for a client. Stripping wasn’t something you had always planned on doing. It just fell into your lap when you were down on your luck and broke. Since you started taking your clothes off for money you don’t have to worry about things that used to make you lose sleep at night. You don’t have to worry about affording rent or putting food on the table. You’re able to fully support yourself. You’re good at your job and you know how to make men spend their money on you.

Everything you knew was flipped upside down when a beautiful man named Minghao paid for a private room. From the very first hello you knew you were fucked.

What should have been a one time thing turned into him being one of your regulars. After your first show with him he popped up the following week and from there he just kept coming back.

You weren’t the only one who felt a connection. Minghao often told you how fascinating he found you. He loved getting to talk to you. The first few times he visited you kept it very professional. After a while he would spend big money to get you in a private room just so he could talk. He loved learning things about you. He was one of the only people in the building who knew your real name. He didn’t know you as “Ivy” your stage name. It didn’t take long for your visit to turn into more than just talking. The first time you kissed you felt like butterflies were fluttering in your stomach.

Often you would find yourself sitting on his lap topless just making out. You had no problem kissing him and dry humping him until you thought you might go insane but you told him you couldn’t have sex with him at work. You refused to have sex with him if money is involved.

“Do you actually like me daisy girl?” He refused to call you ivy. He says you remind him more of a daisy.

“Minghao,” you sigh with your forehead resting against his.

“Is that a yes?” His hands run up and down your bare sides

“Obviously.” You pull back, giving him a smile.

“Go out with me.” You don’t say anything, you just stare at him. You want to date him so badly but you know your job will always complicate things.

“What happens if I say yes?”

“I wait until you’re off at two and then I take you out to eat.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer we go out one day when I haven't worked. I'm either going to be covered in stage makeup or I’m going to be bare faced.” You didn’t really feel like putting on a different face of makeup to go out tonight.

“Baby I think you’re beautiful anyway you look,” he leans in and presses his lips to yours again. “It doesn’t have to be tonight. When can you be off?”

“I make my own schedule. I don’t have to work any day I don’t want to.” You know Minghao is serious about you and he isn’t just trying to play a game.

He rested his hand on your cheek, “you can tell me no, but I want to ask you something.”

“Ask away,” you smile.

“How about I take you out tonight? We can just get a late night dinner. It will stay fully innocent, but if you enjoy my company you pack a bag and you stay with me for a little while.”

“How long?”

“As long as you want to stay.”

Things between you changed forever that night. You finished up your private room with Minghao at midnight and you agreed for him to pick you up after work. He said goodbye and told you he had a few things to do and after work he wasn’t lying when he said he would be waiting outback for you. You found him sitting in an extremely expensive black sports car.

The first dinner you shared was nice. It was wonderful getting to fully know Minghao outside of the club setting. Your night stayed fully innocent outside of a kiss goodnight outside your front door.

Things with you and Minghao drastically changed that night. You weren’t officially together but it was clear that you were his and he was yours. You took him up on his offer and took a week off of work and just stayed with him.

Your first night in his expensive penthouse was your first time you ever slept with him. Something about Minghao always made you assume he was dominant in bed and you weren’t exactly wrong, but he was much more gentle with you then you thought he would be. You quickly learned that he loves having you lingerie during sex. He bought you so much expensive lace for you to wear. His favorite is crotchless panties. He’s bought you many pairs. He asks for you to wear them whenever you can.

Your nights of the club have started slowly going down. It was rare before that you would work less than six days a week, but since you often started staying at Minghao’s house more often than your own you now only work two days a week.

Since things changed with you and Minghao he still comes in occasionally, but not as frequently as before. You feel guilty now when he pays for a private room. He won’t take no for an answer when you tell him he doesn’t have to pay for your time now.

Laying on his bed I’m nothing but a pair of black lace crotchless panties, you spread your legs wide exposing your already drenched pussy. “Touch yourself for me.” Silently you do as you say. “My daisy, what do I have to do to get you to quit your job?” He’s asked you this on multiple occasions but every time you tell him you can’t quit.

You slide your fingers through your wet folds. Rubbing your clit causing a soft moan to leave your lips. He stands at the edge of the bed still dressed in nothing but his dress pants watching you play with yourself.

“I need the money,” it’s not a lie. You’ve given yourself a very comfortable lifestyle by stripping.

“Let me take care of you baby,” he is intently watching you.

“I don’t exchange sex for money.”

“We wouldn’t be exchanging sex for money,” he says quickly.

“What would we be doing?” You pull your hands away from your wet core.

“I would be taking care of you and supporting you, and all I ask is for you to be open to falling in love.” He’s a fool if he doesn’t realize you’re already head over heels in love with him. It's been almost two months since you first got dinner together and you are indeed in love with him.

“Are you going to be my sugar daddy?” You’ve been tempted to try and find one in the past but you weren’t exactly keen on sleeping with an older man for money.

“I’m not an old man paying for your time. I’m thinking more of: I'm your boyfriend and I pay for you.”

“My boyfriend?” You arch your eyebrow at him.

“Do you not want something more with me than this game we seem to be playing?” You’re tired of whatever this is. You want to openly be able to love him.

“You better not break my heart.”

“I would never.” He unbuckles his pants and removes them and boxers leaving him standing at the foot of his bed fully naked.

“How are you going to explain to people your girlfriend is a slut?” You need to ask him. He needs to be prepared for what people will say about him being with you.

“Don’t call yourself that,” he says flatly. “You aren’t a slut, and I never want to hear you say that again.”

“What am I then?” He crawls over you. He pins your hands above your head.

“My daisy. You’re my daisy.” If you weren’t in love, you would be now. You’re speechless and don’t even know how to respond to him.

“I like the sound of that,” you whisper, leaning up.

He pulls away from you and sits back with his back against his expensive headboard. “Come here baby.”

You crawl over to him. Sitting on his thighs you start to pump his already hard dick. His lips slightly part as he inhaled little breaths. You've learned all the ways to make him fall apart. Focusing on the sensitive head that is already leaking precum. His hand massages your breast. He earns a moan when he tweaks your nipple.

“Have I told you I love you today?” he asked, finally speaking.

“I think so,” you can’t help but smile.

You continue pumping his length as his hands travel your body. One rest on your throat. He slowly applies pressure as you close your eyes. “I don’t want to share you with anyone else anymore.” Your eyes flutter open and you can tell how serious he is. “I want you to just be my daisy. Let me take care of you fully.” His hand still lingers on your throat, but no longer applying pressure.

“You’re gonna get bored of me. Men normally like the idea of me, but find me hard to love.” You last few relationships were disasters. Only one of them fully knew about your job, and the amount of time you would get into fights and he would call you a slut and throw your career in your face.

“You are not hard to love. I love you.” You often question what you did to deserve a man like Xu Minghao to love you.

“I love you too,” it’s rare you repeat those words back to him. You’re helplessly in love with him, but you still can’t be scare you’re going to get hurt. You’ve broke all your rules for him. Falling for him made you feel like you were going crazy, but that’s maybe how love is supposed to feel.

Without saying anything else you lift your hips. He realizes what you’re doing and helps slide his cock towards your welcoming pussy. Slowly you slide down his length. His hand still rests on your throat applying pressure every so often. One of your hands hold his jaw, keeping his looking right at you. You’re not normally rough with him, but you’re lost in a haze of desire.

“I only ever want to fuck you,” your moans are high pitched. “I don’t want anyone else.”

“I don’t want anyone to ever touch you,” his hand dips down between you and starts playing with your clit while you ride him. “I’m going to take care of you and I’m going to fuck you so good you can’t think straight.” You love when he gets like this.

“I’m so wet for you-“ you ride him like your life depends on it. His hand never leaves your throat continuously applying pressure.

Leaning back your hands rest on his thighs behind you. Moving your hips at a quick pace.

“Fuck-“ you moan.

“Your pussy was made for me,” he moans.

“Please kiss me,” you beg. Silently he accepts your plea. He pulls you closer to him by your throat. He releases his hold as your lips crash together.

“I wanna cum,” you whine with your lips ghosting his.

“Cum baby.”

Your orgasm washes over you with a blinding hot heat. Closing your eyes you lean forward and stop moving your hips. Minghao holds your hips and helps you continue to ride him while he chases his own high.

“Fuck-“ he moans as he paints your walls white. He doesn't think he has ever came that much in his life. If you weren’t on birth control he would be worried about getting you pregnant.

Pulling back slowly you sit up with him still snugly inside of you. The blissed expression on his face is absolutely beautiful. “I’ll quit stripping, but you have to promise me that you won’t break my heart.”

The smile that tugs at his lips makes your heart instantly swell. “I won’t ever break your heart.”

The two things you have learned about being in love is that sometimes you just have to trust the person who is in love with you. If you love someone sometimes it’s okay to break all your own rules.

@minghaosimp @kpoplover-19

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #xu minghao x reader #xu minghao #xu minghao smut #minghao smut #minghao x reader #the 8 #the 8 x reader #the 8 smut #my writing #lwymmd #kpop smut #SVT smut #svt writing #seventeen writing #sugar daddy seventeen #sugar daddy minghao

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crheativity · 11 months ago

Note

Hello how have u been I was wondering if I can request a slightly part 2 of the reader making the overblot squad cute little plushies so wha if the reader makes the plushies clothing and accessories like for vil’s plushie little fake makeup and same clothing he has sorry if my English is bad I’m still learning

SUMMARY: You decide to make the Overblot Squad’s plushies clothes! How do they react?

WARNINGS: None that I am aware of!

COMMENTS: Oh my GOSH this is such a cute idea!! And no worries Anon, your English is just fine :D I hope you enjoy it!!

Part one - Prefect making the Overblot Squad plushies of their respective Seven member - can be found here. Part three - their reactions when the plushies are stolen - can be found here.

You made his plushie some… clothes? He didn’t even know you could remove her current ones! He would never think to try something so scandalous on his own! Especially not with a plushy of the Queen of Hearts!! Ah, wait- he meant no disrespect! He just meant that he wouldn’t- uh… He’s just gonna stop talking now.

You have to show him how to change his plushy’s clothes – he refuses to figure it out on his own in case someone walks in – but once you show him it’s not like that, he’s more comfortable with it. He doesn’t change things around a lot – maybe whenever you make him a new one. He keeps them all safely in a box under his bed. Occasionally, he’ll take them out just to look at. Seeing them always makes him smile.

You decided to make the powerful, feared and mighty King of Beasts… a hat? And slippers? Hah, you got guts, Prefect. He’s gotta say, he respects it. Alright, he’ll indulge you. He’s slightly surprised at how small yet detailed the accessories are. There’s something slightly endearing about such small clothes… maybe that’s one of the reasons why people like children? Tch. He can’t relate.

Nonetheless, it’s amusing to him what kind of accessories you think of. He’s also not the type to change up the doll’s outfit a whole lot, but he’ll stash them all around his room. Much like the toy, they all smell of you. It’s starting to annoy the other Beastmen. Ruggie’s strongly considering having an intervention.

Prefect… these are adorable! Are you sure you don’t want to sell these? Ah, r-right. Please forgive him for forgetting they were for-... for his eyes only. Please stop looking at him and let him regain his composure. He absolutely loves them! He hopes you know how much of a friend the doll has become to him. He’s starting to tear up, you’re so kind. Give him a minute.

Azul has designated different clothes for different purposes. Before bed, he puts his doll in her pajamas. When he wakes up, he selects her outfit for the day and changes her into it. He does this almost ritualistically every day. Floyd and Jade have teased him for it, but surprisingly, Azul doesn’t seem to mind.

Oh? You made his Sorcerer of the Sands doll some different outfits? Pft– that’s so cute. He didn’t mean to laugh at you – he’s delighted, really! He just… can’t believe that you’d spend precious free time doing something like that. Hey, come on, he’s not judging you or anything, but free time is precious, right? You should spend it more on doing what you want to do. Still, though, he loves the clothes - and finds your cute little pout adorable.

He definitely keeps them with the doll. Whenever you make him new ones, he’ll pick up the doll and change the outfit. Otherwise, he’ll only change them a couple times every so often. This has given him an idea though. Maybe you’d like a doll too? Then you could match. Although, Ramshackle dorm doesn’t really have a mascot… maybe he could make you a ghost? Or a plushie of Grim?

(Didn’t he say that spending ‘precious free time’ doing something like ‘that’ was wasted? Point it out to him and he’ll get flustered and walk off in a huff. He will return with a plush and an apology for you two days later. He enjoyed making it a lot.)

You made his doll clothes?! He’s trying not to squeal like a teenage girl. He didn’t know that his doll could change clothes!! Oh, prefect, he loves you so much. He’s going to ask you to make so many clothes, you better be prepared for what you’re getting into!

He, like Azul, changes the clothes all the time and will often just sit down for like an hour and change the doll into perfect outfits. As you could probably guess, Vil LOVES using the doll to try out new looks. Whenever he’s designing an outfit or a piece of clothing, he always asks you to make a small version for him to try out on the doll. This helps him to be able to practise styling them and getting an idea of how the finished piece would look.

His favourite kind of outfit to ask for, however, is anything that reminds you of fashion from your homeworld.

You made his marketable plushie some marketable clothes?? Oh my gosh. That’s adorable. It’s so small! Looks like those itty bitty cutey kitty clothes– AH– ahem. you didn’t hear that. He definitely wasn’t just having a total fanboy moment. no siree… do you think you could make him an outfit from his favourite anime? that’d be cool, he guesses.

He’s DEFINITELY gonna make the little guy cosplay his favourite characters. Maybe that’d improve his gacha roles even more? Oh he is 100% down to help too. Any clothes that require metallic details he is WELDING that stuff together. It’s so cute how invested he gets in this. Ortho loves seeing his brother get so passionate about this too!

Malleus is DELIGHTED. He was not aware that his little friend could change outfits! How adorable! He loves you so much! He is this close to buying an actual, fully sized wardrobe just for them! …But Lilia talks him out of it. Actual, fully sized wardrobes take up a surprising amount of room. So, he ends up getting two, miniature wardrobes. Which fills about the same space. Lilia’s not sure his advice really worked.

Malleus will now dress up his dolls for tea parties, picnics, or whatever outings they decide to go on. He is constantly surprised and delighted by whatever you make him, although he’s not very good at suggesting ideas. One of the few ideas he came up with was fashionable about a hundred years ago and was a very complicated piece of clothing. However, when he received the outfit, he took great measure to ensure that no harm would ever come to it.

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

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beuxwhoyouare · 30 days ago

Text

Ready to Go

I always thought I would die young. I just don’t forsee a long life ahead for me. It’s not like sad or anything I just think I’ve done all I wanted to. There’s never been like a dream job or goal I’ve ever foresaw in my future. It’s not depression or anything, if anything I think more people should be honest with themselves about being useless and just tapping out of a long life of nothingness.

See. You’ve read this long and didn’t even notice I haven’t mentioned my name. That’s because like my life, my name is equally inconsequential.

I was pondering about ways to easily tap out of life while I sat at the bus stop waiting. Eventually I got on the bus at my usual stop to take me to my usual destination when an older white man slowly waved his hand in front of my wandering gaze.

“What’s out there?” he feebly asked in a weak voice.

I’ve never been asked something on my route before. I kinda just zone out into my own mind like this and-

“Hey kid. You keep zoning out are you okay?” he interrupted my internal thought.

It’s like he knew I was talking to myself but how?

“I’m just in my own head. Sorry did you want the window seat?” I finally replied audibly.

“No. Just making sure you’re okay. Was worried you were one of those druggies or something. Whole life ahead of you and you youngins just throw it all away.”

What a presumptive thought. He really believes that young people can’t have a complex and existential inner dialogue. I think older people don’t give us enough credit. I’m complex, I think.

*hehe*

What’s he laughing at. Wait maybe he is listening to my inner dialogue? Let’s see. Lemme think of something and see how he responds. I don’t want to die, I just want to peacefully tap out of the game of existence.

Damn nothing? He isn’t going to say anything? I’m losing my mind.

“Where do you want to go in life kid?”

HE HEARD ME I KNEW IT!

“I mean let’s say you manifested it enough. Maybe I’m here to help you move on. The worst thing you can do is live a life unfulfilled. It seems like that’s how you’re living.”

“You can’t be serious…What can you do?”

“It’s not really me, more like a pact to the deities that rule existence. It’s the law of the land. Everything in this world is all about balance. Even our lives, if one aspect is out of balance it could throw the whole world out of whack.”

“So what’s out of balance? Just because I’m tired of being aimless in life? It’s not like I’m the only aimless one right?”

“Maybe you’re not the only one, but you’re the only aimless one put in my life. I have so much I wanted to do but spent too much time wasted. I wanted kids, I wanted love, I wanted it all but got sick and spent years withering away in a hospital bed.”

….why is he telling me all this? What can I do about the law of the land? If I could help him I would but he’s talking about myths and hocus pocus.

The bus made an abrupt stop next to a big park near a historical reserve in town. The old man grabbed my arm and dragged me with him off the bus, across the street to the park.

“Dude your boney arm is hurting me. I’ll follow you just let me go”

“We’re here anyway. I can feel one of the deity’s presence around us. All you have to do is say your true hearts desire out loud for it to become true. You can’t move on and I can get a chance to fix my life’s shortcomings.”

My true hearts desire? Doesn’t he get it my problem is I don’t have a desire. There’s nothing fueling me.

“That! Say that out loud.”

“I KNEW YOU COULD HEAR ME! But how?”

“Your inner dialogue was calling to me like a siren. I’m telling you I was meant to hear it. To run into you! This moment was meant to happen.”

Honestly resisting the occult is too much work anyway. I don’t know why I’m even poking and prodding into his story. What is it going to do for me in the end? He’s offering me a way out.

“I don’t have desire. I don’t have a goal. I’m not sad, I’ve lived an okay life but I’m done.”

“I want a real chance to live life. I payed my dues. Please all I ask for is a real chance.”

If felt like all the sounds of nature stopped. The sun suddenly disappeared and it felt like a spotlight appeared above us. All I could see was the old man when he disappeared in front of me. It all disappeared in front of me. Then silence. Well everything was silent from then on. My request to tap out was granted.

“Keven. I like that name, I definitely look like a Keven now. This is a good place to start I think?”

I feel bad that a young person could fall out of love with existing. There’s so much young people have to live for and he just wanted to die? I’ll live the best live for the both of us.

I’m quite the looker now too so that should probably help on the having kids and starting a family front. Although he’s a little short for my liking. You know what no I’m going to be grateful for this new life I’ve been given. There’s still some memories in my head that belong to him. I think he might be gay….well I never got to explore those things in my time but it doesn’t help the kids dream.

Whatever I think starting today I’m going to be Bi. I’m gonna search through these memories and continue working out. Seems like it has a positive impact on people’s outlook and morale. Maybe that’s where the kid went wrong. He didn’t seek ways to be happy. I’m choosing happiness and choosing to be fulfilled.

Let’s start by jerking this thick beer can growing under my shorts though…and maybe seeing if this hot couple in the gym might want a newly confident Latino twunk third.

#identity theft #gay #male body possession #body possession #racial transformation

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velocesainz · 8 months ago

Note

Hi, can you do an angsty fic inspired by “I gotta go my own way” from HSM2. If can either be Charles or Lando or Charlando and they fuck up or something and reader leaves them? Maybe hurt/no comfort? It’s okay if you don’t want to

A/n: this was a very interesting request and it took me quite a while to really get the plot line. Hope you enjoy!

One heart broke six hands bloody

F1 masterlist | Main masterlist |

Summary: Charles and Lando are in a relationship with reader and they slowly stop paying attention to her and missing important events. The last straw is when they miss your birthday.

Warnings: sad, angstyy, hurt

Pairing: Charles x Lando x reader

Reader pov:

It had been nearly five months since they started acting distant to me.

I don’t know why.

We were so good all together

It was like we completed each other

But recently they’ve really started to distance themselves and ignore me.

Constantly say they have meetings and leave home when I know they don’t drive I’m in contact with their teammates

Were they both cheating on me?

I woke up in our shared bed with nobody by my side.

I went on about my day realising they both had left for some sort of meeting with their respective teams

They returned home late at night completely wasted

“Where were you two? I’ve been worried sick! I called you both so many times, why didn’t you guys pick up?” I questioned

“Oh shut up mom.” Was all Lando said before they both left to go to bed

The next day was one I would usually be excited for but maybe not this year

My birthday

I would usually celebrate it with my two boyfriends but they seem to not want to spend time with me at all

I walked into the kitchen to see them scrolling on Charles’s giggling and whispering to Lando about something. They would do that with me too but I guess not anymore.

“Hey guys, what’s for breakfast?” I asked them seeing they had made their breakfast already

“Oh..we didn’t make you any. We thought you would do it yourself” Charles said

I sighed and went upstairs to get ready, my appetite knocked out by his words

I got dressed and left the house watching them not care

I hung out around Monaco since I had no friends here, just Charles and Lando

It started raining and I was freezing on my way back to our apartment. As I walked in I found them on their game not bothering to focus on anything but that and each other

“Hey I’m back” I announced as best as I could in my feverish voice due to the intense shivering

“Yea yea whatever just make us dinner” Lando said

What is up with them?

“You can do that yourself. In fact you guys should have done it for me at least today of all days”

They looked at me and asked “What are you talking about?”

I give up on these two

“It was my birthday today and you guys didn’t even bother to wish me or spend time with me. You both have been so secretive and distant from and it feels like you have fallen out of love. I’m leaving. I’m not dealing with this shit any longer”

I walked up to my bedroom and started packing the essentials

Charles pov

How did we not realise we were hurting our dearest so much?

We were ignoring her as we were going to propose to her and knew Lando wouldn’t keep his mouth shut if he started talking

We were so stressed about getting the perfect rings that we completely neglected y/n

Me and Lando looked at each other and chased after her to the bedroom to see her packing her things

“Cheri please don’t leave us we apologise for our horrible behaviour” I begged

“We were working on something very important and in that stress we completely neglected we’re extremely sorry” Lando said

“I don’t care for your explanations. My state of mind has not been good thanks to you two and I refuse to worsen it. I’m leaving and that’s final” she said

All our hearts were breaking as she said this. We ruined a beautiful relationship because we cared about materialistic things over our actual love for each other.

Now there was nothing we could do anymore.

She packed her bags and left the apartment telling us not to follow her and we’d broken her heart enough I’m sure she wouldn’t want to listen to us anymore.

One heart broke and left six hands bloody.

A/n: I’m sorry I took super long to finish this request. Hope you enjoyed and make sure to leave feedback! Kissies ✨

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erwinsvow · 9 months ago

Text

“yeah, you want that one?” rafe asks you, while you browse through the dresses on the rack. the one you’ve picked out to show him is yellow gingham, with skinny straps and a bow on the neckline. you hold the dress to your chest, looking down to see where it’ll end on you. “i’ll get it for you.”

“hm…” you consider the idea for a moment, holding the dress out again to get a better look. “i don’t know. it’s pretty short.”

“since when is that a bad thing?” rafe moves his arm against the rack, manhandling the hanger from your hand and holding it against you himself. “think it’s perfect.” you laugh at your boyfriend’s antics.

“there has to be a reason to wear it, rafe. i don’t have any right now.”

“we’ll go to dinner. there’s your reason.”

“i have other dresses,” you decide finally, putting it back between the others.

“c’mon, just let me get it for you.” he follows you while you walk away and wander towards the jewelry section of the store. you look down at sparkling silver and shimmery gold, while rafe joins you and leans against the glass counter. “you want jewelry instead? that’s fine.”

“no, i’m just looking,” you insist again. “it’s called window shopping. ever heard of it?

there’s pretty things in the case, a silver bracelet with little blue stones that particularly catches your eye since blue is your new favorite color, but you don’t really want anything, and you really don’t want rafe to buy it for you.

“no. just pick somethin’ out. my treat.” you glance up at rafe.

“for what? i haven’t done anything.” he laughs to himself, not necessarily at you, more because of you.

“i don’t need a reason.” he makes you flush, so you walk away again, this time to the shoes. you hold a pair of brown sandals in your hand, flipping them over to see the size.

“you already treated me, remember? you paid for lunch.” rafe grabs the shoes out of your hands too.

“that’s a meal, not a treat. want these?” he looks down at you, not even sparing a glance to the price tag. “c’mon.” you grab his wrist as fast as you can.

“no! no. i have some just like these. it’ll be a waste, i’ll never wear them.”

“are you bein’ serious or are you just sayin’ that?” damn it. you are just saying it, since you don’t want rafe spending his money on you. you lie to cover your tracks.

“serious. i’d never lie to you.”

you wrestle the shoes out of his hand, settling them back on the shelf.

“fine. c’mon, we can go somewhere else.” you finally let him buy you an ice cream cone just so he’ll stop offering.

you try to explain to rafe that the reason you want to walk around is to look around and spend time with him, not to really buy things, but he’s hard to convince.

rafe thinks you need to stop being so worried about what everyone will think. you’re still bad at it, trying to ignore that part of you that murmurs in your ear that people will judge you for all these nice, new things rafe wants to buy you. you think people will say you’re dating him for the money, but worse than that, you think people will say bad things about rafe, about his choice in dating you, if you ever make him buy you more than dinner or ice cream.

your hesitancy gets the best of you, and even though you’ve always had some nice things, being pampered by rafe feels inherently wrong, like you should at least make sure he knows he doesn’t need to buy you anything. lost in your own thoughts, you’ve rejected his offers countless times, and the only new, expensive thing he’s gotten you since you started dating is the R necklace you wear everyday.

you think you’re good at hiding it, but you’re not. rafe sees right through you, and he knows what he’s going to do about it.

later that week, rafe drops you off at home in the morning after you slept over. you still think he hates driving in the cut—as much as he denies it—but he refuses to let you bike back and forth to tannyhill.

“i’ll pick you up for dinner.” he says, leaning across you to open the passenger side door. you flush like you always do, partly because he’s not asking, he’s telling.

you nod, and then wave bye from the window. he waits until you get inside to drive away, which makes you want to go scream into your pillow. you head into your room to do just that, but you’re greeted instead by bags and boxes littered across your bed.

you know what they are, even before you walk over on your wobbly knees and set aside the tissue paper, looking down with watery eyes all the things you had been admiring in the store the other day with rafe. you sit down next to them—the yellow dress, the pretty sandals, the glittery bracelet—and dial rafe’s number on your phone. you exhale shaky breaths while the line rings, but can’t hold back tears any longer when he answers.

“you didn’t have to do this,” you say quietly into the phone, biting your cheek. you try to blink away the new tears.

“do what?” you laugh, so rafe laughs too.

“i…i feel bad when you buy me things.”

“i know. y’should stop that.”

“or you can stop first.”

“i’m never gonna stop.” you suck in a breath, heart thudding and feeling deliriously in love. “gonna come get you later. wear the new stuff, okay?”

“okay. i will.”

“that’s my girl.” you fall back and let your head hit the pillow.

#rafe being soft with shy reader..... nothing better in this world #hints of pogue reader toooo dipping my toes in #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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dr5amatic · 4 months ago

Text

IN THE ASHES ,

a sentence starter prompts list comprised of quotes from the novel an ember in the ashes by sabaa tahir. please be advised that this list may involve topics including, but not limited to, murder, death, and violence. change verbiage as needed.

why do keep disappearing when i need you?

i wasn't spying.

what you saw is dangerous. you can't tell anyone about it. not ever.

keep your secrets close, love.

i'm not working for them.

don't be afraid [name], i won't let anything happen to you.

what are you doing down here?

much as i hate to admit it, you're not usually wrong.

the field of battle is my temple.

the dance of death is my prayer.

the killing blow is my release.

aren't you a pretty one.

who trained you?

keep it safe for me just until i come back.

unless you're stupider than you look, even you can see how this appears.

you worked hard. you did everything right.

go, [name]. go get some air. i'll handle this.

the ghosts of our misdeeds seek vengeance, but the cost will be high.

you are an ember in the ashes, [name]. you will spark and burn, ravage and destroy. you cannot change it. you cannot stop it.

we don't abandon our own!

who do you want me to spy on?

shadows will bloom in your heart and you will become everything you hate.

so my choices are either to stay and be evil or run and be evil. wonderful.

they always underestimate me.

this isn't a mission for the fainthearted.

go away. you're not real.

you're distracted when you can ill afford to be.

if you want to win this, you need to wake up.

i've already wasted too much time cleaning up your messes.

lay low. don't risk spying until you're certain you won't get caught.

fail me again, and we're done.

these are my friends, my family. people i know. i wouldn't hurt them.

how do i make it stop? i have to make it stop.

until you conquer your fear, the dead will remain with you.

i won't kill you. i swear it. by blood and bone, i swear it.

you're going to be fine. i'm going to fix you right up.

fight, [name]. you have to fight. you have to win.

death before tyranny.

if what you say is true, then the balance is upset, and we must restore it.

you look terrible. come into the shade.

you really should run. you’re just going to die.

wait, you idiot! it might be a trap!

i won’t let you fall, i promise.

i want you to know that i think what you’re doing is brave. really brave.

it’s not a stupid idea, just dangerous. i don’t want you getting hurt.

you’re trying to sneak out.

i wouldn’t have traded this for anything.

i live with my sins everyday. i live with the guilt.

i’ve never asked you for anything. i’m asking you now.

you think i can’t defend myself? you think i need bodyguards?

i’ve been distracted worrying about you.

i’ll kill him for this.

don’t talk. just keep quiet and… let me think.

you’re in love with me! but i'm not in love with you, and you hate me for it. you’ve let that ruin our friendship.

i could never be in love with you.

you have no idea what I’ve given up for you, the deal i made.

who did this?

look at you–look what they’ve done to you.

you don’t have to be brave.

do you have what i want?

i have something, but i need more time.

if you have nothing, then this mission is a failure.

don’t have time for that. I’ve got other things on my mind.

if i wanted to hurt you, i’d already have done it.

as long as there is life, there is hope.

either way, you’d have blamed yourself.

either way, people you cared about would have suffered.

i should have stayed, even if it meant dying.

they won’t let you have compassion or kindness. they won’t let you have a soul.

my soul’s gone. I killed it dead on that battlefield.

there are two kinds of guilt. the kind that’s a burden and the kind that gives you purpose.

you have a soul. it’s damaged, but it’s there. don’t let them take it from you.

you don’t need to be so cat-footed. i’m not armed.

you’re surprised? you’re naïve, is what you are. you’re a fool.

you’re sick. don’t you have any regret? any remorse?

i’ll celebrate them. i’ll mourn them. but i won’t regret what i did. i did it for the empire. i did it for my people.

don’t make vows when you can’t know their cost.

i crossed a line, and i won’t cross it again.

do you know what i do to spies?

be strong. if you don’t win this, everything is lost.

i will be your blood shrike, your second-in-command, the sword that executes at your will, until death. i swear it.

in the night, your loneliness crushes you, as if the sky itself has swooped down to smother you in its cold arms.

there is nothing of me that is worth anything.

tell me, or i slit your throat here and now.

you’ll pay for this. i swear it to the skies, to the stars. you’ll pay.

just because he’s a good leader doesn’t mean he’s a good person. he lied to you.

for the first time since i can remember, i don’t feel alone. because of you.

i can’t–i can’t stop thinking about you. i’ve tried not to. i tried to push you out.

i’ll take care of everything. i promise.

the moment i knew you existed, i hated you.

if i feel regret, it’s that i wasn’t willing to die sooner.

i’d rather die than live with no mercy, no honor, no soul.

fear is only your enemy if you allow it to be.

too much fear an you’re paralyzed. too little fear and you’re arrogant.

i’ll watch your back if you watch mine. we can make it if we stick together.

#rp sentence starters #rp prompts #rp memes #inbox memes #roleplay memes #inbox prompt #roleplay prompts

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! Would it be okay to request Dad!Sebastian and Young!Reader?

Reader is a juvenile expendable who’s doing their best to survive (and one day leave) the Hadal Blacksite. Sebastian doesn’t outright say it, but through the little things he does for you, it shows that he cares and is actually really worried about your well-being—he’s quick to brush it off or deny it when you confront him.

He’s quick to swoop you up in whatever room you’re in when you start to get sleepy, he gives you little freebies behind other Expendables’ backs and phrases it as “it’s broken anyway, I’m just throwing away scraps” but it’s in REALLY good condition, wordlessly hands you wall dweller chunk when you enter his shop, stuff like that.

He’s also really pissed off that Urbanshade would allow someone this young to risk their life, even if Reader is like, a year away from legal age.

Just protective Dad!Sebastian who denies it at first but slowly admits to caring for you

The first time Sebastian meets you is when you met your first death to the Angler--as most expendables did.

And the first thing he immediately realizes is how young you are.

From across the table, he could see you in the baggy prisoner uniform, the PDG looking awfully heavy on your back.

Before he even explains how your deaths reveal more information on the entity that killed you, how you'll eventually meet him further in the blacksite, etc....he asks how old you are.

When you nervously tell him you're 14-15 years old, he doesn't know what to say.

A teenager, a literal child...was incarcerated and subjected to Urbanshade's cruelty.

You ended up being with the wrong crowd and got in trouble with the law over a misdemeanor, and yet...you're being punished on the same level as the many older and sicker criminal scumbags.

If anyone deserved to be suffering down here, it should be them. Not you.

"Kid, do you even know what you signed up for?"

"...yes. If I find this crystal, I'll get my freedom. That's what they told me. I-I didn't know about the monsters, though."

"Yeah, they don't mention that in the description 'cause it deters people from signing up. But I can help you with that part."

And thus begins the introverted fishman unofficially adopting you as his kid.

In many ways, you remind Sebastian of his siblings, so he gets to sorta relive that through taking care of you and ensuring you don't die as frequently as the other expendables.

He never says it, but he lowkey spoils you.

He'll pawn off "faulty" equipment to you, claiming he's getting rid of "useless scrap", but they all turn out to be in perfect condition.

You could get fully charged light sources with battery packs attached in one run, discounts on medkits in the next, and even the "upgraded" gummylight (the one used in the Raveyard expedition) that stays lit for longer.

If you get tired of running from the anglers or need to close your eyes after meeting Eyefestation, he'll let you rest in his shop for some time.

Ever complained of hunger even a little? Next time you walk into his shop, he conveniently has some wall dweller chunks available.

You wonder why he's so nice to you compared to all the other monsters...but he acts like he doesn't know what you're talking about, always having some excuse.

"Look, that wall dweller flesh would've gone bad in the next few hours. Can't let the only food you guys are willing to eat go to waste."

"What? No, I totally didn't go out of my way to get the better gummylight for you. One of the idiot leaders of the rave expedition left theirs unattended."

In the end, you learn to just accept his kind gestures and nothing more, relieved that he's looking out for your well-being.

It's also his way of coping with the injustice of Urbanshade putting you through all of these horrors on your own.

If he could do something to alleviate your stress and anxiety...why not?

#clanask #anonymous #roblox x reader #roblox pressure x reader #pressure x reader #sebastian solace #teen reader #platonic #headcanons

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voxslays · 2 months ago

Text

Precious Treasure

Featuring >>> Human! Alastor x Reader; In which Alastor and Reader are forced into an arranged marriage, but slowly start to care for eachother…or do they?

Warnings: Heavy Smut (x2), AFAB! Reader, Dub-Con

Later that evening, Alastor returns to you, his expression calm and collected. However, there's a hint of tension in his shoulders and a furrowed brow. "I've taken care of everything with my father. He won't be a problem for now." He sits down next to you, pulling you into his lap. “What do you mean? Was he a problem before?” You ask, not knowing much about their relationship, except how bad of a person Alastor’s father was. But he had never been a problem to the family that you had noticed. Alastor’s jaw clenches briefly before he forces a smile. "Let's just say he had some...opinions about our marriage that I didn't agree with. But it's handled now." He runs his fingers through your hair soothingly. "You don't need to worry about it." He says soothingly

You laugh softly, knowing exactly what he meant. “Oh I’m sure he wanted a grandson the moment we got married.” You smirk jokingly. "Something like that," Alastor mutters, grinning wolfishly, while nipping at your jawline. "Well, let's not let his words go to waste, shall we?" Alastor picks you up bridal style. "I think it's time we started working on that family that both him and I want so badly." He carries you to the bedroom, his arms wrapped securely around you. Once inside, he sets you down gently and stands across from you.

“If we have a girl, he will have a heart attack.” You glance up at him as he laughs darkly. "Maybe that's what we should aim for, then. A beautiful, fiery little girl who drives him crazy." He slowly slides off your dress, his touch gentle. "But for now, let's focus on making her." He climbs onto the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly unbuttons his own shirt. "And who knows? Perhaps we'll get lucky and have twins. One of each." He crawls towards you, his voice dropping to a low purr. "What do you say, love? Shall we make a baby?" His hands caress your body reverently, his touch both tender and passionate. He kisses you deeply, his love and desire palpable. "Or two?" He mumbles against your lips.

His touch becomes more insistent, his hands roaming over your body possessively. He growls softly, nuzzling your neck. "I want to see you round with my child. I want to feel our baby grow inside you. I want...I want it all, with you." You smile and look up at him. "Wrap your legs around me, love," Alastor breathes against your ear. His hands grip your hips as he slowly enters you, his face contorting with pleasure. "You feel so perfect. Like you were made for me." His voice is hoarse with emotion as he starts to move within you. You cry out in ecstasy. Alastor sets a deep, sensual rhythm, his body covering yours completely. "I love you so much," He pants, peppering your face with kisses. His thrusts become more urgent, more passionate.

You cry and whimper as he pounds into you. He captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your whimpers of pleasure. His tongue dances with yours, stoking the flames of desire higher. One hand tangles in your hair, while the other grips your hip, holding you in place as he drives into you with increasing fervor. "That's it, love. Let me hear you," He encourages, his voice a low, seductive growl. Alastor changes his angle slightly, hitting that perfect spot inside you. "I want the whole world to know who you belong to." His thrusts become harder, deeper, more urgent.

"Come for me," Alastor demands, his thumb finding your sensitive bud and circling it firmly. "Let go, my love. I've got you." His hips piston faster, chasing his own release as he feels you tightening around him. "I'm so close... Ah, you feel incredible!" You moan his name. He swells inside you, his release coming hot and hard as he hears your cries of ecstasy. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his body shuddering as he fills you with his seed. "Yes, just like that, my love,” Alastor groans, his voice groggy and hoarse. He collapses on top of you, both of you panting and trembling in the aftermath. He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes dark with satisfaction and deep affection. "That was... incredible." He brushes your hair back tenderly. "I hope it takes."

You give him a confused look as you try to catch your breath. “What?” You ask. "I hope we made a baby," Alastor clarifies with a soft smile, his hand resting on your lower abdomen. "The thought of you carrying my child, of creating a new life together... it's almost overwhelming." He kisses you softly. "But don't worry, my love." He gives you his signature smile as he removes his circular glasses and puts them on the nightstand. “We'll find out soon enough." He sits up and pulls you into his arms, cradling you like a precious treasure. "For now, let's just enjoy this moment, wrapped up in each other's love." He holds you close, his heart pounding with joy and contentment. "But just in case, we should probably practice again tomorrow. Just to be sure." He chuckles, nipping at your earlobe. "And the day after that. And the day after that...” He carries you to the bathroom, his arms strong and sure.

The next morning, Alastor wakes you up with gentle kisses, his hands caressing your body lovingly. "Good morning, my love," he whispers, nuzzling your neck. "I hope you're not too sore. We might have been a bit... enthusiastic last night." He grins wickedly. “It’s only six. Let’s go back to sleep.” You groan, your voice groggy and hoarse from the previous night's activities. "Mmm, tempting... but I've got other plans," he murmurs, his hands roaming over your curves. "Besides, we have to make sure, remember?" He kisses down your body, his intentions clear. "Just a quick round..." You blush and look away, able to feel the heat in your cheeks. "Don't be shy now, love. Not after last night." Alastor settles between your legs, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. "I promise I'll be gentle...at first." He chuckles malevolently.

True to his word, he starts slow, his tongue laving your folds with tender precision. He savors your taste, your scent, the little noises you make. His hands caress your thighs, keeping you open for his attention. "You taste divine," He murmurs against you. You whine, tugging on his hair, as Alastor’s mouth works its magic. His lips and tongue driving you closer to the edge. He hums, the vibration sending shivers through your body. Just when you think you can't take it anymore, he pulls back, leaving you aching and needy. "Not yet, my love. We have all morning..." He trails off as he crawls back up your body, his hands pinning your wrists above your head. His eyes gleam with amusement as he kisses you deeply, sharing your taste between you. "Now, where was I?" Alastor muses, his hips settling between yours. "Oh yes! Gentle."

He enters you slowly, inch by agonizing inch. He pauses, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot on your lips. "Wrap your legs around me, love," Alastor whispers. You comply, and he slides the rest of the way in with a soft groan. "There we are..." You cry out as you take his length. "Shh, it's alright," Alastor soothes, his voice low and comforting. "I've got you. Just breathe with me, ma chéri." He begins to move, his hips rolling against yours in a slow, languid dance. "That's it, darling...just like that..." As he makes love to you, he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, his words a gentle rain against your skin. "You're so perfect for me," Alastor murmurs. "So beautiful." His pace gradually increases, his love-making growing more passionate, more urgent.

His lips find yours, swallowing your moans as he deepens his thrusts. He releases your wrists, one hand cradling your head, the other caressing your breast. "Together, my love." His body tenses, his release imminent. You scream his name as your release washes over you. With a guttural cry, he buries himself inside you, his orgasm triggering yours. You cling to each other, shaking with the intensity of your shared climax. As the waves subside, he collapses on top of you, his face buried in your neck. "Mine.” Alastor says possessively.

"Je t'aime," Alastor breathes, his heart pounding against yours. He rolls onto his side, bringing you with him so you're draped over his chest. "Now that's a proper way to wake-up," he says with a satisfied smile. He kisses you softly, his thumb brushing your cheek. "We should probably get up soon. Shower, breakfast...the usual." He nuzzles your neck, his hands idly stroking your back. "But for now, let's just stay here like this. Just you and me, wrapped up in our love."

“m’ gonna be so sore.” You groan. "Mmm, yes, but what a lovely soreness, hmm?” Alastor grins, flexing his hips slightly to remind you of its cause. "And it's all from me.” He smirks wickedly. "Now, let's make a deal," Alastor says, his tone turning serious. "You stay here with me, and I'll make sure to take extra care of you today. Breakfast in bed, a relaxing bath, the works. But in return, you have to promise me something." You listen carefully, waiting for your husband to continue. "Promise me that we'll do this more often. Not the making up part, hopefully," Alastor says wryly. "But the waking up together, the mornings spent making love, the breakfasts in bed…” He pauses.

"Promise me that no matter what happens, we'll always make time for us, for our love. For these quiet moments that belong only to us." He looks at you with such sincerity, such vulnerability, that you can't help but nod your agreement. "Good," Alastor says, smiling softly. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he rests his head on top of yours. "Now, let's make a start on that relaxing bath, shall we?" He carries you out of the bedroom, cradling you in his arms like a precious treasure.

A/N: JUST GOT BACK FROM DISNEYLAND YALL!!! WOOHOO!!!

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lieslab · 9 days ago

Text

Merry Christmas, please don't call

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: og8 X gn reader

Summary: When you struggle with the holidays for different reasons, the guys are right there to cheer you up.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 7K

Trigger warning: Loneliness, mentions of dead family members, grief, family issues, depression, insecurities, alcohol and drinking, and jokes about suicide as a coping mechanism.

If you or a loved one is struggling this holiday season, you can find some mental health resources here.

A/N: Some of these drabbles are rather lighthearted and others get a little dark. Whether you will be spending time with friends and family this holiday season, or spending the day alone, please take care of yourselves. Eat a good meal and drink some water. Let's survive this holiday season together and make the new year a good one <3

_ _ _

Chan:

The clock struck noon and the chimes began to sing again. Another wasted day, another sound of silence, and another meaningful day slipping through your fingers. Lately, most days seemed to end up that way, but you couldn’t find it within your seeping soul to care.

Most bodies were a temple, but yours was a walking grave. You were idle on the inside and just waiting for your time to go. Upside down on the leather couch, your arms dangled against the worn beige carpet. Your feet dangled over the back and on each side of the couch, two pillows sat in a place they called home.

Chan was out today and he’d be out for most of the day. The two of you were having an extended vacation in Sydney, so he could visit his parents for the holidays. You were offered a chance to go along with him, but you politely declined. You didn’t want to overstep and it had been so long since Chan saw his family, you didn’t want to barge in and make yourself at home for the dinner they were making.

It was a full spread with his father’s grilled lamb and some of his mother’s favorite recipes. His siblings were going to be there and you loved his family, but you hated the idea of sticking out like a sore thumb. Besides, you already had dinner with them a few times.

You tried to get your mind off of it by cleaning the airbnb. His parents wanted him to stay there, but he wanted you to be comfortable. Plus, his old bedroom had been taken over by storage. Staying there required buying a brand new mattress, a box spring, and bedding. It felt easier to rent an airbnb.

Your face grew darker and darker as the blood rushed towards your head. Your eyes shut and you let your hair dangle. While they were having dinner, you had to find your own dinner. Sydney was full of possibilities, but all you could think about was his father’s lamb.

How many times had he raved about it? Back in Korea, he talked about it all the time. Whenever he ordered lamb from somewhere, it was delicious, but it was never up to the same standards as his father’s. The thought of it made your mouth salivate.

“What are you doing down there?”

Your eyes widened in shock. Above you, dimples formed in the sides of Chan’s cheeks. “Look at you, my little cutie.” He bent down and gently poked the top of your nose. “You look like a little tomato.”

You huffed and lightly pushed his hand away. “Stop it, I’m just hanging out. Why are you here?”

“I got halfway there and then turned the car back around. It didn’t feel right showing up without you. I don’t like the idea of eating a Christmas dinner without you by my side. Not to mention, my parents would demand to know where you were.”

He grabbed one of your wrists, reached down to support your back, and supported you while you sat up. You allowed it, but when he tried to tug you off the couch, you hesitated. He raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“I don’t want to ruin your Christmas dinner with your family.”

“How will you ruin it?”

“Your parents don’t get to spend holidays with you often. You should see them by yourself. They don’t need me there to worry about. They called Christmas a family gathering for a reason.”

A soft sigh escaped his lips and he sat down beside you. “Sweetheart, you’re part of my family too. You don’t think my family considers you part of our family? Did you know that my siblings can’t wait for the day that we’re married? They’re excited to truly consider you a sibling.”

Your head shook, your own stubbornness refused to let you see it. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” You tugged away, but his fingers didn’t let go of your wrist.

“Talk to me, what’s really going on? What’s causing you to feel like this?” His hand cupped the side of your cheek. The familiar warmth of his thumb slid across your eye socket. “Please just talk to me. Do you not like them?”

“Of course, I like them. I love your family, but I feel like an embarrassment. Shouldn’t I be celebrating my own holiday with my own family? I hate feeling like an intruder.”

“Well, you’re not.” He leaned forward, his nose nearly touched yours. “You’re going to come along and, even if I have to drag you there, we’re going. If you’re lucky, maybe my dad might give you his lamb recipe.”

The pitiful look in your eyes was more than enough. He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to the tip of your nose. “What are you waiting for? Come on!”

You squealed as he stood up and grabbed you. His fingers lightly tickled your sides and he hauled you over his shoulder. Your giggles filled the air with each dramatic bouncing step he took.

No matter how much of an intruder you felt like, he’d never leave you alone. _ _ _

Minho:

The sudden shriek from across the room caused your eyes to widen. You glanced over and found Minho’s face returning to normal. Almost like he hadn’t just jerked his head back and let out the loudest wail known to mankind.

In his hands, a fresh ceramic mug of black tea sat. A steady stream of steam lazily twirled into the air. He ignored your look of concern, gently blew onto the drink, and took a sip. His lips smacked together and he let out a content sigh.

“What the hell was that?” You finally asked.

“What was what?” His eyes found yours. “Blowing on my tea? Can’t you see that it’s hot? Is your eyesight bad enough that we should take you to the eye doctor?”

A blank look of your unamusement caused him to chuckle. He took another loud sip, trying not to laugh at your annoyance. You shut the book you were holding and leaned back along the couch.

“So you’re just going to pretend like you didn’t scream?”

“Oh, that?” He shrugged and adjusted his grip on the sage green mug. “I was just thinking about how excited I am to go home for the holidays. I can’t wait to see my cats again. You know them?”

“How could I forget Soonie, Doongie, and Dori? Of course, I know them. Are you old enough that you have memory loss?”

“I’m older than you, learn some manners.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbed your book, and began to flip back to the page you were on. He headed in your direction, sat on the couch beside you, and placed his mug on the wooden coffee table.

“I’ve mentioned my holiday plans a few times, but you’ve never mentioned yours. What are you doing for yours?”

“I’ll be hanging out here in our apartment.”

“What do you mean?” His eyes narrowed. “Why? What about your family?”

“Pretty hard to celebrate when your family members are buried six feet down in the frozen ground.”

He slowly blinked, wondering if he heard you right. You didn’t explain yourself, instead, you just continued to flip until you found the right page again. Your body relaxed back up against the arm of the couch and you started at the top of the page.

When you didn’t clarify, he reached out, and he placed a sprawled out hand over the words, so you couldn’t read them. “What do you mean they’re dead?”

“My family was small and there was an accident. They’re dead and life goes on. I haven’t celebrated the holidays since they died. Now if you’ll excuse me-” You pulled your book from his hand. “You’re blocking my story.”

You acted like your words were normal. He wanted to know more, but you didn’t seem to be budging. He reached out, jerked the book away, and planted a finger in the page you were reading.

“Hey!” You cried out.

“We have to talk about this. You can’t just say that and expect me to be fine with that. No, no, no.” He brought up his free hand and wagged his finger in your face. “New holiday plans, you’re coming to my house to spend time with my family.”

“Minho, it’s fine, really. I’ve gotten used to it and I’m okay with being alone. I’m not going to ruin your family’s holiday just because-”

“Oh no, I’m not asking you.” He handed you your book back. You sighed and took it back. He pushed himself off the couch and began to pace while he pulled out his phone.

You tried to ignore him, but curiosity got the better of you. “What are you doing?”

“I’m texting my mom and telling her to make extra food. You’re going to meet my grandma and my parents. Your loneliness can be damned this holiday season. After this, I’m going to order matching Christmas sweaters for us and my cats.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t question me, my family is going to love it. I’m going to post the photos of my cats to Bubble afterwards. The fans are going to be mad. Not only do I have three cats, but they have matching sweaters, and they don’t.”

“Do you always plan to torment your fans?”

He finally glanced up from his phone. “Well, someone has to keep them humble. Nobody else is going to do it, so I will.”

For the next twenty minutes, he kept showing you cat Christmas sweaters on pet store websites and asking which one you thought was cuter. _ _ _

Changbin:

“Are you staying there? Baby, are your eyes closed? Are you peeking? Stop it!”

“I’m not peeking! My hands are over my eyes and I don’t know what more you want from me! I’m trying to be patient, but you’re freaking me out. What are you doing out there?”

“DON’T OPEN YOUR EYES!”

You were sitting with your legs crossed in the middle of the couch. Changbin came home from work wrapped in an oversized white blanket. Before you could even ask, he told you to stay put and close your eyes. So here you were, curled up, with your hands flat against your shut eyes.

For the past few minutes, Changbin had been out in the kitchen. Soft clatters floated from the room, but you didn’t know what he was exactly doing. Every time you tried to peek, he’d shriek at you like a mother defending her eggs from a predator.

There was more clattering and it was topped off with a giggle. In the kitchen, Changbin rubbed his hands together and grinned. “Baby, are you ready?”

“Can I look now?”

“One moment! I’m coming. Don’t look until I give you the okay!”

Giddiness coated the lining of your stomach and you waited. His footsteps came closer and closer until they stopped altogether. “Okay, you can look now.”

You opened your eyes with a smile on your face. It only grew wider when you saw what he was wearing. He was in a white button down long sleeve shirt. A black vest sat on top of it and a matching bow tie was secured around his neck. A white apron tied around his waist and gave the illusion of a long skirt.

On his hand, there was a silver platter adorned with three styrofoam cups. You gave him a funny look, but all he could do was give you a goofy grin. As he balanced the platter, his legs began to move.

“Hot! Hot! Ooh, we got it! Hot! Hot! Hey, we got it!”

You slapped a hand over your mouth to stop the giggles from escaping. He moved and twirled around the living room with the platter. Unbeknownst to you, the empty cups were taped down and the tray was secured to the back of his hand with a strap.

“Hot! Hot! Say, we got it! Hot chocolate!”

His feet tapped against the floor and he spun around with the platter overhead. It took you a moment to find the fake mustache glued onto his face and when you saw it, you lost it.

He didn’t stop singing and dancing. Your eyes widened as he stepped onto the couch beside you. You had to look up at him. He winked as your eyes met and he spun off and back to the ground.

Just as you thought, he couldn’t do more, he moon-walked to the coffee table and jumped on top of it. Part of you was alarmed, but the other half of you was amused. He jumped off with ease and bowed in front of you with the platter held out to you.

Heavy breaths racked his chest and his heart beamed with pride. Your hands went together and you began to clap in delight. He got back up, hurried into the kitchen, and came back with a mug of steaming hot chocolate.

“For-” He sucked in a deep breath, “for you.”

“Thank you,” You uttered as you grabbed it. “How long did it take you to learn the dance?”

“About a week, but it was worth it to see that smile on your face. I know how much you like the Polar Express. I-I was trying to figure out a way to cheer you up, so I-”

“Changbin?”

He glanced down at you and you patted the space next to you. “I love you so much, you have no idea. This is the sweetest and most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. You look exactly like the waiters in the movie.”

His cheeks went red and he brushed your words away. “It was nothing, really. Maybe I can teach you the dance and put a fake mustache on you. Do you think I should grow a mustache?”

“I think if you ever find yourself out of a job, you should consider working on one of those trains that recreates the Polar Express. You’ve got the role in the bag.”

“Is the hot chocolate good?”

“Delicious.”

“Good. Did it work? Did I make you feel better? You’ve been glum lately and I hate to see you so miserable during this time of the year.”

You swallowed another sip before offering him the cup. He glanced over at you and giggled at the sight of the brown mustache sitting on your upper lip. His thumb reached out to wipe it away.

“Forget me growing a mustache baby, you would suit one perfectly.” _ _ _

Hyunjin:

“This is too hard and I’m dying. I know too many people. Why did I agree to go Christmas shopping with Felix and Jeongin?” Hyunjin’s hands wiped down his face and he groaned.

Perched on your shared bed, there were four rolls of wrapping paper in different holiday prints. A bag of premade colorful bows scattered everywhere. Scissors were half open and nearly digging into his leg. The wrapping paper that he cut too short was scrunched into balls and littered the carpet beneath the bed.

You were on your way to the bathroom when you glanced in to check on him. After coming home with multiple bags, he sauntered into the bedroom nearly an hour ago and he had been there ever since. He said he was going to wrap presents and you assumed he’d struggle, but you didn’t realize that it’d be this much.

“Hyunjin?” You called out softly as you poked your head into the room. “Are you okay in here?”

“Am I okay here?” He scoffed and gestured around. “Do I look like I’m okay? Look at this mess! How do you fold wrapping paper over a gift that’s not a square shape? I should have never let the guys talk me into buying so many gifts for people. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

You chuckled and stepped inside. “You’re very, very sweet. Do you want some help?”

“Please. Preferably before Santa himself comes in and boots me from his workshop.” His arms crossed over his chest and his lips stuck out in a pout. “Wrapping gifts is too hard. We should just be able to give people items without them expecting wrapping paper.”

“You don’t have to wrap them if you don’t want to,” you reminded him.

“I know, I know. I want to wrap them, I just-” He sighed. “I’m just annoyed by it all. It’s really not that difficult, but I’m struggling with the amount of paper to use.”

You headed over and grabbed the scissors. After searching for a few seconds, Hyunjin grabbed the tape and handed it to you. You glanced around at the gifts and nodded. “We can do this. Which wrapping paper and which gift?”

He grabbed the black and red plaid wrapping paper. He nearly fell off the bed in the process of stretching to grab one of the gifts. Once he handed them to you, you gestured for him to follow you.

You carefully averted yourself through the maze of gifts and headed out to the kitchen. He followed your steps and the moment his body broke free of the room, his stress melted away. You seemed so sure of your skills as you loaded up your tools onto the island.

The first gift was a smaller square box with cologne in it. You unraveled some of the paper and set it in the center. “You see this?” You took the edge of the paper and rolled it up over the side. “You want this side of the paper to cover half the box.”

“But it’s covering less than half?”

You nodded and unraveled more wrapping paper. He watched as you adjusted the box and taped the first half of the paper down. You took your time letting the scissors glide across the end of the role. You pulled the other half over and asked for tape.

He placed down a small piece, mimicking your previous motions. Once it was secured, you showed him how to bend and fold the ends. After you folded them, you let him tape them down. When you finished, you slid the box to him.

“You made that seem a lot easier than it should be.”

You chuckled at his words. “It’s really not that difficult to wrap a gift. My parents taught me that when I was younger. I’ve carried the skill around since then.”

“God bless your parents.”

You forced a smile at his words and watched as he disappeared to grab a bow from the bedroom. By the time he came back, you took your attention to the window above the sink. Painful memories adorned your brain at the mention of your parents.

“Are you going to help me with the next one? You know I struggle with seeing things just once and being expected to know what to do. It takes me a while to get things.”

You shut your eyes and nodded, still facing the window. “I’ll help you wrap the next one if you get it.”

He kept an eye on you, worried about the sudden distance. Something flickered in your eyes when he mentioned your parents. When you reached up and wiped your eyes, he knew something was wrong.

You weren’t expecting him to appear behind you. When his hand found your shoulder, you jumped slightly. Tears wet your eyes when you spun around to face him. Without a word, he tugged you to him.

You couldn’t fight it. The familiar lull of his heart caused your eyes to shut. Your hands wrapped around his waist. “Family issues?” He uttered softly.

“Something like that.”

“I’m sorry I made you wrap a gift. I didn’t mean to bring up memor-”

“Don’t apologize, I’ve missed wrapping gifts. Actually, I like wrapping gifts, but I’m not a fan of celebrating Christmas.”

“So would you like to be a dear and spend the next few hours teaching and helping me wrap gifts?”

“Obviously.”

You forced yourself to smile, but he knew deep down that you weren’t okay. A storm brewed in the silence of your soul. Maybe one day you’d talk about it, but for now, he was just happy to be in your presence.

He couldn’t heal the gaping wounds, but he could try to dull the ache. _ _ _

Han:

“Baby, please wake up.” Han reached over and shook your sleeping body. You had been asleep for a few hours and he was desperate for your feedback. “Please, get up.”

When your groggy eyes finally cracked open, he grinned. “Hi there. I’m sorry for waking you up, but look!” He held open a homemade card and pressed it to your nose. “Be honest with me, can you read this?”

“Kind of,” you mumbled. “Who is it going to?”

“My mom.”

“I’m sure she’ll be able to read it. Didn’t she grow up being able to read your handwriting?”

“Well, yeah, but I wanted to make cards for the guys too.” He pushed the card against the bed and sat down on the edge. “I’m feeling festive this holiday season and I want to let people know how much I care about them.”

“Mm-hmm. That’s nice.” Your eyes slipped shut again and you twisted. You nuzzled the pillow and wrapped the blanket around your body tighter.

“Baby?”

“Huh?”

“Do you want to get up and make Christmas cards with me?”

“And send them to who? I cut off my family members, remember? I don’t talk to any of them to save my mental sanity.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, baby, I totally forgot.” He laid down beside you and slithered his hands around your waist. You didn’t fight it as he pulled you against himself. “Is this why you’ve been sleeping so much lately?”

“Here I’ve been going on and on about the holidays and the people around me, but I haven’t even thought about you and your situation.”

“I’m not mad at you. I like listening to you talk about everything and everyone in your life. You’ve got a lot of love to give and creating homemade Christmas cards is cute. I’m sure they’re going to love them.”

“I hate that you think your family issues make you unlovable.”

“I-I don’t think-” Your voice cut off as a lump built in your throat. Tears began to build up and you blinked rapidly. Of course, you felt unlovable.

Holiday ads were smeared with family gatherings. Songs chirped about winter and connection. Even when the birds migrate for winter, they fly to warmer weather with all their friends and family. So many creatures, human or not, have connection, but not you.

You had Han, but everyone else? Everyone else seemed to be far away. Even when your parents’ compliments were backhanded. When your grandparents gabbed about your disappointing appearance and when your siblings reminded you that you were a loser, you were supposed to endure it for the holidays.

It didn’t matter if you were their own flesh and blood. It didn’t matter if it hurt your feelings, you were just supposed to sit through it. You were supposed to be grateful you knew them. You were supposed to be thankful that you even had family.

How many times have your holiday dinners been interrupted with a lump in your throat? When you excused yourself from the table, so you could let your tears fall in the privacy of the bathroom. How many times had you clung to the rope tethering your family together, despite no matter how much the rope burn rubbed your hands raw?

So you walked away from it all. You were deemed an ungrateful traitor by your family members. They were the victims of your selfishness in your eyes, but if selfishness was what you had to be called to pick and choose your own lonely path of happiness, so be it.

You shifted and curled into Han’s chest. He held you to him tighter. One of his hands began to gently rub your back. The other hand went to the back of your head.

“I can’t put into words how much I love you. I hope you get to hear it in some of my songs. I hope you’re able to pluck it out between the melody and the backing vocals. I hope you can feel it in my touch.”

“Thank you,” you finally managed to utter through tears.

“And for my next Christmas card, I’ll be sending it to your parents house. On the front, there’s a giant ‘fuck you’ written in glitter. Tis the season to tell them to fuck off.”

You couldn’t stop the laughter from bubbling up in your chest. _ _ _

Felix:

Jingling bells were mixed with sobs. The halls were decked with tissues. The snowy gray skies were dotted with misery and an impending doom that you just couldn’t shake.

The holidays were a continuous slow death. The lack of sunlight brought in depression and your brain was haunted with past memories. Everything seemed to be decorated for Christmas, including downtown.

A nearby business was having Christmas carols tonight and Felix wanted you to go with him, but you turned it down. It was an open invite by the business, anyone could come along and sing, but you didn’t have it in you to stand in front of a door of strangers and put on a smile.

Your apartment was dark and when Felix first arrived, he wasn’t sure if you were home. It was only around seven and your car was in the parking lot, but the rest of the house seemed dead. Every light was off and there wasn’t a sign that you were around.

He placed his basket over his arm and knocked but you didn’t answer the door. He frowned and knocked harder, but you still didn’t answer. Instead of leaving, he pulled off his glove, and pulled out his phone. He got to your number and hit the call button.

Inside your house, you were drowning your worries in eggnog. You normally stuck to the non-alcoholic version that was stored in the coolers, but this time, you picked up a bottle at room temperature that was mixed with a spiced rum. Outside, the streets were wrapped in a velvet green and bright red, but your soul was tainted black.

You thought about ignoring Felix’s call when his contact lit up your screen, but your hand moved before you could stop it. You answered the call and placed it on speakerphone. “What do you want? I told you I’m not singing tonight?”

“I’m not here to gather you for singing. I’m outside and I have something for you. I thought we could do something together inside and enjoy each other’s company.”

“Go away, I’m probably drunk.”

“If you were drunk, you would have hung up. You forget which way is left and right. Why not let me in and see what kind of treats I brought?”

You paused at the words and you glanced over at the front door from your spot in the kitchen. “Edible treats?”

“Of course.”

“Sweet treats?”

“You bet.”

“I’m coming, don’t leave.”

He listened to the sound of your footsteps and when you finally cracked the door open, you looked like a mess. You smelled like nutmeg and rum. You hung up the phone in your hand and stared at him with red-rimmed eyes.

“You poor, poor thing.”

“I don’t want your pity.”

He held up his hands in defeat. “Can I just come in? I think these things are cool by now and we can decorate them.”

You eyed the wicker basket he was holding suspiciously. It was covered in a red and white patterned cloth. You couldn’t see in it, but you had suspicions about it. After a moment, you finally stepped aside and gestured for him to come in.

He followed and a blast of chilled air rushed after him. You didn’t turn around as you led him towards your kitchen. He shut the door, kicked off his shoes, and he followed you.

You flipped on the kitchen light, shielding your eyes in the process. The eggnog swirled in your stomach and with a small hiccup, you felt the alcohol crawl back up the back of your throat. You forced yourself to swallow it.

“Welcome to my kitchen, you can do whatever here. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go take a nap.” You began to turn and leave, but he grabbed your arm to stop you.

“At least, look at what I brought with me first.”

You sighed and spun back around. He peeled back the cloth and pulled out a variety of colorful piping bags. Small packets of gummies and candies followed. He even pulled out a few miniature candy canes.

“What is this for?”

He smiled at you and held up an undecorated gingerbread man. “I was hoping you could help me decorate them, so they could come to life.”

“Why are you really here?”

“Because I love you and I’m worried about you.” He placed the gingerbread man back in the basket. “Because every time I mention the holidays, you turn away and you scowl. Because you get a far away look on your face when I mention family and you frown.”

That same frown that he had grown used to appeared on your face again. Just the sight of it broke his heart. His hand reached towards yours and he gently took your hand.

“You don’t have to explain it to me, but I just don’t want you to feel alone this holiday season. I think everyone should feel warmth in this cold and I think you deserve it too. I love you and I don’t want you to feel alone.”

The alcohol made you numb to your emotions. If you were fully sober, no doubt, you would have burst into tears. Instead, you just glanced over at his basket of gingerbread cookies. “And if they turn out ugly?”

“Ugly cookies are still cookies at the end of the day, aren’t they? No matter what they look like, they still taste delicious. Deep down, they’re still loved.”

When your lips met his, you finally felt the warmth you’d been lacking this holiday season. _ _ _

Seungmin:

“And for this holiday season, I might hang myself with the lights. Tell me, Kim Seungmin, would you kiss my corpse beneath the mistletoe?

“I’d let your corpse kiss my ass beneath the mistletoe.”

“I didn’t think you were into necrophilia, so I’ll have to note it.”

“Fucking freak,” he grumbled. He turned back to the side of the house and continued to string the lights along the edge. The two of you had been working for nearly an hour, but it still wasn’t enough.

You chuckled at his comment, but then you went quiet. Below him, you stood on the ladder with the raveled Christmas lights in your hand. They were wrapped around a piece of plastic and slowly, but surely, you were unstringing it as he hung the strands in clear clips. Your eyes finally found the ground and you held the lights steady.

When you didn’t make another comment, Seungmin glanced down with a sigh. You didn’t hear it, too busy distracted by your own thoughts in your head. It took a few moments of him calling your name until you glanced up. “Hmm?”

“Why are you making so many jokes about dying?”

You shrugged, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “It’s not like I haven’t made jokes like that before. What makes it different this time?”

“Well, usually you say you’re kidding afterwards, but this time, that never happened. You didn’t say you were kidding, you just pretended like you never said anything. I know you joke about it a lot, but it worries me that you’re doing it more than usual. Did something happen?”

His gaze lingered, but you stayed quiet. Your teeth sank into the velvet section of your bottom lip. He began to descend the ladder when you didn’t respond. He walked over to you, pulled the lights out of your hand, and gently placed his hands on your shoulders.

“Don’t do that. Don’t do that thing where you shut me out and you shut down. What happened?” He lightly shook you and caused your head to sway back and forth. “Just please tell me what happened.”

“Nothing specifically,” you finally uttered as your eyes found the ground. “Nothing specific happened, I’m just struggling, that’s all.”

“With what?”

“It’s the holiday season,” you shrugged. “Haven’t you noticed that everything goes bad during the holiday season? A light bulb blows and you don’t have a new one. An elderly family member passes away. You feel warm and cozy because of the holiday season and then you’re slammed with the heartbreaking realization that people don’t care about you the way that you care about them.”

His fingers gently dug tighter into your winter coat and you lightly shoved him away. “It’s nothing, really. I’m probably just being dramatic, but it feels like everything spirals during this time of the year, doesn’t it?”

“I didn’t know you felt like that.”

“I don’t want to ruin your holiday cheer.” You reached down and grabbed the lights from the ground. “At least, the house will look festive.” You tried to force a smile, but it came out as a grimace instead.

He pulled the lights from your hands and put them on the ground. You let him tug you inside and into the warmth of your shared house. The scent of the homemade apple cider you made earlier still lingered. The cinnamon sticks swirled with sugar and apples and spritzed the air.

Seungmin spun to face you and he reached for your coat. You stayed put as he began to unzip your coat and pull you out of it. The freezing temperatures caused the tip of his nose and the tops of his cheeks to turn red. He was working with gloves coating his fingers.

“What are you doing?” You finally whispered as he peeled off your hat. He didn’t respond and pulled off your scarf. You stayed quiet and watched him begin to peel off his own winter articles of clothing.

You blinked and tried to keep your focus away from his face. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but he looked rather determined. His eyebrow sat in a furrow and he threw his hat onto the couch behind you.

When he finished freeing himself, he gently cupped your face. You swallowed the lump in your throat as your eyes met him. He finally began to speak for once.

“You lost a family member this time last year.”

“So?” You hoarsely uttered, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“It’s your first holiday season without them.”

You pressed your lips together, desperate to keep the tears away. Decorating a grave isn’t nearly as fun as decorating the Christmas tree. Christmas lights lose their allure. Santa Claus sightings, Christmas cookies, and holiday songs can’t tune out the emptiness in your heart. No matter how many parties you go to, no matter how many presents you wrap, it’s never enough to heal your bleeding heart.

The moment tears appeared in your eyes, he leaned forward and pressed soft lips to the center of your forehead. Your eyes shut, savoring the flicker of attention, and seeping in his silent love. He didn’t utter another word as he pulled you into his arms because he knew that you knew what he was saying.

A strangled sob came out and his arms slipped beneath you. With snow encrusted snow boots, he took you to the nearby couch. He didn’t care that he sat on the mix of scarves, hats, and gloves. He rubbed your back as you let the holiday turmoil ooze out.

Not every season was meant to be jolly. Not every holiday would be full of laughter and smiles. Sometimes the lower branches of the Christmas trees would be empty underneath and hold nothing. Sometimes the people you wished to celebrate the season with the most would disappear.

Seungmin would hold you until the snow on your boots melted and soaked the carpet. He’d cling to you until the sobs stopped. He’d do this forever if you asked him to. He’d sit here until the next holiday season and do it all again.

Maybe next year, you’d feel better, but until then, you were entirely his. _ _ _

Jeongin:

“I hate the holidays. I hate this time of year. I hate people dressing like Santa. I hate red and green, they’re the worst colors.”

“Okay, Ebenezer Scrooge, we get it, you don’t like Christmas.”

You glared over at Jeongin, but he didn’t seem to see it. Instead, he continued to fold a piece of white construction paper. Your arms crossed over your chest and he continued.

“I think the Grinch might have more love in his heart than you and that says a lot. For someone who tore down Christmas trees and stole Who Hash-”

“I get it! I get it!” You threw your hands up in the air. “I’m the most miserable person to be around this time of year. I know!”

His eyes widened, he sighed, and shook his head. “Well, you’re not going to ruin my Christmas cheer. I’m making snowflakes from construction paper because I actually like this holiday, unlike some people.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and he pointed his scissors at you. There was a loud snip, but he didn’t dare try to injure you. The two of you were back to playfully being a pain in one another’s ass.

“How the hell do you make snowflakes from construction paper?”

“You fold the paper over and over and over and over again. I think you’re supposed to fold it in a certain way, but I just fold in whatever way I want to. I take these scissors-” He snipped them loudly a few times. “I cut snips into the paper and I open it back up.”

He carefully unfolded the paper and once it was back to its normal shape, there were multiple slits to create an uneven snowflake. “Look at it! A snowflake! Ta-dah!”

“Why does your snowflake have scoliosis?”

“Hey!” He cried and he tugged the paper to his chest. “Be nice to my snowflake. Haven’t you heard that each snowflake is unique? Bully my snowflake again and I’ll give you scoliosis.”

“You’re going to open up my spine, curve it, and stitch me back up?”

He held up the scissors again. “If you don’t stop it, I’m gonna scissor you with these scissors.”

Your cheeks sucked in as you tried not to laugh. Realizing what he just said, his eyes widened. “Hey, no! Stop it! Not like that! Ugh.” He tossed the scissors onto the kitchen table. “Let’s go back to the main topic. Why are you literally acting like this time of the year is the worst?”

“Because it’s cold outside and I’m miserable, Jeongin! Look at my feet!” You pushed your fuzzy-sock feet up in the air and wiggled them. “Look at them! I have two pairs of socks on and I’m still freezing!”

You got up to show off your hoodie and sweatpants combination. “Look at me!” You spun around and gestured to your clothes. “It’s the worst time of the year to celebrate when I’m freezing.”

“I can’t go swimming or to the beach. If I try to go outside on a walk, I nearly freeze to death. Don’t get me started about the glasses I wear. Going from the freezing cold outside to the warm inside and then being unable to see from condensation, it’s the worst!”

“Is that all you have in your defense?”

“Yes, Jeongin!”

“Wow.”

“Santa Claus would find more joy in the depths of hell during this time of the year.”

“Do you even know how hot hell is?”

“Hot enough that I wouldn’t be freezing my sweet cheeks off, catholic boy!”

He shoved a hand over his mouth and turned away, trying not to laugh. You scoffed and shook your head. “Laugh all you want, but when I turn into an icicle in this household, it won’t be funny then.”

“The heat is on.”

“And I’m ten degrees away from turning into a freezing cold corpse.”

“I forgot how sensitive you are to the cold.”

“Oh, you have no idea. Grocery shopping and entering the cooler and freezer section is the worst. It doesn’t matter if I have on a hoodie and a coat. Once I’m cold, I’m chilled to the bone and it ruins my day. I’m cold for the entire day and can’t get warm.”

He reached down and began to fold a paper. You settled back down on the couch after yanking the decorative blanket off the back end. You took your time tucking yourself in and leaned back. Your hands ran down the velvet and you sighed softly. “This is so much better.”

“You big baby.”

“Frozen corpse.”

He playfully rolled his eyes, stood up, and began to head towards you. Without asking, he leaned over and wormed his way on top of you. The moment he appeared, more warmth flooded your body.

“I’ve been blessed by Jesus himself this holiday season.” You basked in the relief as you shifted to get comfy. “Merry Christmas to me, you’re not allowed to leave.”

“Who says?”

“If you go anywhere, you’re getting a lump of coal for Christmas.”

“A harsh price to pay. I guess I should just be lucky that some part of me loves you. Thankfully, my catholicism blessed me with patience and gratefulness.”

You shot him an unamused glare. He responded with a dimple-showing grin. As much as he was annoying sometimes, you still loved him. When you shut your eyes, he shifted and placed his head against your chest.

The craft snowflakes would be there later, but if he didn’t warm you up now, he was secretly worried your heart would freeze over, just to spite him.

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