#but i think it could be neat if people were interested? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cute-little-crow · 2 months ago

Text

A seemingly innocent text message leads to a chain of events that turns your entire day upside down… who could have anticipated that?

Hey baby… I’m having the worst day at work. Everyone is really grouchy and I’m struggling to concentrate. Really wish I didn’t have to put up with this today. Sorry for being a downer, I hope your day is going better than mine!! Love you ��

feat: Rafayel, Sylus, Xavier & Zayne (separately)

tw: female reader, fluff, suggestive, roleplay of kidnap (reader is in no danger), mentions of bomb threats (not genuine and not condoned in the slightest), bratty behaviour (mostly Raf), faked medical emergencies, sorry if I missed anything, Zayne being the most rational of the bunch (obvs)

an: I’d be happy to flesh out and expand any of these if there is interest (especially Xavier’s cause his was real fun 😏) 💖

His phone pinged from across the studio, a sound he could never ignore, especially when it was the tone he used only for you…

With a paintbrush tucked behind his ear, he leapt gracefully from his stool and wiped the dusty remnants of dried paint from his fingers onto his trousers. The white shirt messily—although he might say, artistically—tucked into the waistband was already streaked with the hue of colours making up his latest creation, and a purple smudge darkened the tip of his nose.

Rafayel smiled when your name emblazoned across the screen, but it faltered as he hastily scanned the neat little rows of text. He was full-blown frowning by the time he finished, mood darkened by the idea that there were people in the world that could allow you to feel so badly.

Didn’t they know you were better than they were? That you hung the moon and the stars. Made the tides rise and fall. Without you, their world would be devoid of colour—how mundane.

He wouldn’t stand for it, he couldn’t.

For the next thirty minutes he planned out his strategy. Scribbling ideas down only to angrily score them through when he realised how ridiculous they were. He needed something simple, and most importantly, believable.

A sudden idea popped into his head and he set off before he could change his mind… poor, poor you.

You wish you had been exaggerating when you sent off that earlier message, but today truly had been a total clusterfuck. It was barely noon and already you longed for the clutches of sleep that would come when you were tucked up in bed tonight.

The sour mood of your colleagues was rubbing off on you more than you would like, and the dark cloud of negative energy only grew bigger and more dense until it was impossible to see an inch in front of your nose.

Tapping your pen against the edge of your keyboard, you stared where the words should be occupying your screen. A blank document stared back—mocking you. With a frustrated growl, you sank forward with your head on your arms.

“Oh, there you are! Why are you still here?”

The frantic voice of your boss took you by surprise, peering up before jolting upright in your chair.

“Where else would I be?” You asked tentatively, mentally wondering if you had somehow missed a meeting.

“The hospital!! Your boyfriend is in reception bleeding all over the desk! He’s refusing an ambulance and says he’ll only go to the hospital if you take him. Come on, hurry!”

Panic froze your heart. Terror turning your blood to ice in your veins.

Rafayel came into view and immediately, you knew. You were going to kill your dumbass boyfriend for pulling such a ludicrous stunt. What was he thinking and why couldn’t anyone else smell the overwhelming scent of strawberries from the syrup he was claiming was blood?

“My love… at last. I don’t know that I can hold on much longer, please, take my hands,” he enthused, rivalling the most hammiest of actors.

Your lips pursed, and his eyes widened. Despite it all, you played along if only to get the security guard and receptionist to calm down. Taking his sticky strawberry fingers into yours, you cooed in your best impression of genuine concern.

“I can’t believe you didn’t go straight to the hospital, Rafayel. You might have bled out in my office reception, let’s get you out of here. Does it hurt? No, no… I’ll manage,” you reassured the ashen looking security guard whilst squeezing Rafayel’s fingers in a death grip.

He squeaked out a groan of genuine pain, but he deserved it for causing such a scene at your workplace. His bottom lip stuck out in a petulant pout that was only visible to you, corralling him along until you were in the staff car park and able to shove him bodily into the passenger seat.

You kept up the pretence until you were out of sight of the building and any security cameras before pulling over into a side street and cutting the engine without saying a word.

“I was—”

��Trying to get me fired?” you supplied, turning in your seat and pulling wet wipes out of the glovebox by the fistful.

Rafayel continued to look petulant, but the sticky mess smeared on his cheek and neck as well as covering both his hands and the cuffs of his shirt were too ridiculous for you to stay mad.

You giggled, and he side eyed you—cautiously. “You look… good enough to eat, baby. Smell good too.” Leaning close, you licked through the mess of syrup streaked over his hammering pulse point and heard his breathless little hiccup.

“It wasn’t my best plan ever, but it got you out of work, right?”

It was hard to argue with that. You conceded with a nod, starting the engine once more and peeling back into traffic.

“Mhm, true, and you brought me dessert. It’s a good thing that strawberry tarts are my favourite.”

Sylus welcomed the distraction of his phone vibrating from the pocket of his trousers. He had spent the better part of his morning listening to those with more money than sense, bumble through negotiations he had no intention of seeing through to fruition. But even so, he liked to dangle the carrot and see how high he could make them jump. Call it an entertainment of sorts.

“This meeting is over,” he intoned flatly, quickly rereading your message a second time whilst his frustration tried valiantly to leak outward.

The room emptied hastily—much to everyone’s relief—and once alone with his thoughts, Sylus let out a long aggravated sigh. His nostrils flared. His fingers drummed a war song against the enamel of his desk.

He supported your independence with his whole heart but there were times, like these, that he wished you would simply quit and join him in running his growing empire. Whilst he understood your reservations, and he certainly knew that he would be rather indulgent with your time if you worked side by side, he was not purely driven by his dick—only sometimes.

“Luke. Kieran. Get in here,” he called out.

Mere seconds later the brothers appeared, inquisitive though it might be hard for some to tell given the masks. Sylus leant back in his chair, debating his course of action and whether or not you might just explode when he pulled the trigger, metaphorically speaking.

“Yes Boss?” The brothers said in almost perfect unison, mischief evident in their voices.

“I need a favour, and I want you to make it convincing…”

This meeting was akin to listening to nails being scoured down a chalkboard, and that was about the most polite way you could put it.

You chewed on the end of your pen, anything to distract from the presentation being blasted at you from the large projector screen on the conference wall. Around you sat your colleagues and superiors, most looking equally bored, although a few opted to sit straight backed and bright eyed—the kiss asses—as you referred to them.

The hands of your watch seemed to move at half speed and you couldn’t believe there was another full hour ahead before you could find some solace during your lunch break.

An alarm pierced through the monotonous voice of the presenter on screen, you and your colleagues glanced around in confusion as it sounded unlike any fire alarm you had been present for. You sat up in your seat, twisting around to see people scurrying past the frosted glass windows until someone crashed into the door as if they had run flat out to get here.

“We’ve received a report that there’s a bomb in the building! Everyone out. Now! Don’t be stupid,” the man who you assumed was a part of security yelled at the nearest girl who had asked to go back to her desk to grab her bag. “Exit quickly and calmly. Don’t go back for anything!”

For someone advocating calmness, he sprinted away looking the absolute contrary to his guidance, but you didn’t have time to muse on it when everyone started to push and shove out of the doorway.

It wasn’t long before the panic and hushed conversations behind hands from the meeting point nearly a block away died down to be replaced by angry tuts and speculation over what might have happened.

There was a growing sense that the call had been a hoax which put nobody in a good mood, and you couldn’t blame them. Your car keys were back at your desk so you didn’t even have the option to leave.

Thankfully, you had your phone and whilst you had been scrolling social media—which was blowing up with the bomb threat news—a message popped up…

Need a ride, kitten?

You glanced around, eyes narrowed for the telltale flash of crimson but found none.

Maybe I do… maybe I don’t. Y’know, I’m surprised you’re not more concerned.

Concerned? Why should I be concerned? There’s no bomb. Keep walking this way, sweetie, you’re getting warmer.

You stopped in your tracks, mind whirring with the implication of his words. He didn’t… he wouldn’t. Fuck, he absolutely would.

Did you call in a fucking bomb threat?! You’re insane!!

Your steps had taken you closer to the mouth of a side street, it was shadowy and you didn’t so much as see Sylus, as you did sense him. The hairs on your neck stood to attention and for all your storming anger, you couldn’t deny the desire and affection curling around you.

“No,” Sylus purred into your ear from behind, looming out whatever blind spot he had stalked you from to rub a hand up your arm. “I didn’t call it in…”

“So it was Luke and Kieran, those two pests probably laughed themselves sick once it was done.”

Sylus tsked gently. He drew you carefully into his chest and kissed the crown of your head, happy to be reunited, even if it was the result of foul play. “Let them have their little fun, kitten. You wouldn’t be here if they hadn’t.”

It was impossible to stay mad, it was really was. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes and cupped his cheek until you could claim his lips, slow and deliberate.

“I hope you won’t pull these kind of stunts when we’re working together…”

His breathing stalled at your quip. Vermillion eyes searching yours for deceit or misplaced humour and finding nothing but truth. Sylus smiled…

“That’s a promise I can’t make, sweetie. But, I can promise you won’t regret your decision for a single second.”

Boredom was not something that Xavier handled well. He needed the thrill of the hunt, the adrenaline of the fight or the total blankness of deep, uninterrupted sleep.

So, perhaps it was serendipitous that you should text him at the precise moment he was ready to tug on his hair with the lack of activity. His smile was short-lived as he read the message, wishing he could somehow help.

Is there a way I could help, my starlight?

Xavier stared at his phone for a few seconds, willing the little bubble to appear that signalled your imminent reply, but after a little longer, he tossed it away and closed his eyes.

A ping made one eye crack open.

Not unless you know someone willing to kidnap me from this hellscape. Lol! Don’t worry about me, I’ll survive 💪🫰

He laughed. What a silly notion. Unless… why was the idea growing on him the longer he thought about it?

Did it make him depraved to want to fulfil that role, safe in the knowledge that not a hair on your head would be hurt in the process because he would be the one pulling the strings?

I mean… never mind. Lemme know if you change your mind. It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do today. See you soon, pretty…

Your fingers flew across your keyboard, and to the casual observer it would seem like you were deeply engrossed in your work. The truth was that you were gossiping with a work friend over the IM chat feature.

Stretching your arms overhead, you tilted your neck from side to side until you heard a satisfying pop. It was going to be a long afternoon of very little to do. Maybe you needed to pace yourself if the workload was going to continue being this light?

You decided that some soda might cheer you up, so you took the short trip to the break room and happily procured the last can of your favourite flavour. It wasn’t until you were resettled at your desk that you notice the pink post it note on your screen.

Come to the supply closet. I have something for you.

The old adage of ‘curiosity killed the cat’ seemed to be lost on you as you trotted the short distance to the store room in question, wondering if maybe your friend wanted to continue your conversation without the fear of it being tracked. It didn’t even raise alarm when you discovered the small room in complete darkness.

“Tara? Are you in here?”

You tiptoed to the shelves in the very back, turning when you heard movement, only for solid lead to plummet into your stomach as a hooded figure dressed from head to toe in black stalked forward.

The lower half of his face was covered by a mask and the hood pulled low enough that you couldn’t see his eyes. You wanted to scream, to run or do something but your fight or flight failed to kick in. Instead, you backstepped right up against the faraway wall, watching as the man cocked his head and tightened his gloved fist.

You were inching around the perimeter of the room, closing in on the door and he was letting you. It was as if he were toying with you, waiting for you to make a move before he reacted. There was something unsettlingly familiar about his stature and the way he moved… but you didn’t have time to question it, it was now or never.

Lunging for the door, you made your move but he was faster and stronger. One arm wound around your middle whilst the other hand came up to cover your mouth, the scream in your throat trapped. His body was radiating pure heat whilst you thrashed to escape.

“Calm yourself…”

Only half aware of the words, you more heard the voice and confusion blanketed your thoughts. Your struggling lessened and you thought you heard him chuckle in response.

“You wanted to be kidnapped… right?” Xavier teased, carefully removing his palm to listen to your panting breaths.

“Xav—”

“Ah ah. Hush now. You’re not going to struggle. You’re going to walk with me to your desk, grab up your things and come with me without making a scene.”

Why were you so flushed? Why were your legs trembling from something other than fear? Did your heart have to pound quite so loudly? It might have been a joke earlier but somehow being kidnapped by Xavier had become one of the hottest things to ever happen in your life.

You nodded your agreement, accompanied by a soft whimper and he pulled you back against his body for a moment before releasing you. It was long enough that you could feel the growing bulge in his black sweats. The thought of keeping him in here flitted through your mind, but he was nudging you forward before you could let the lewd thoughts slip past your lips.

“Once we’re out of here and no one is watching…” you purred, letting your hand graze down the length of his stomach and stopping deliberately at the waistband of his trousers. “I’m going to make a break for it, I hope you’re ready to chase me.”

Xavier chuckled, dark and predatory.

“I won’t stop until you’re struggling beneath me, my starlight.”

For the first time in what felt like years, Zayne had a scheduled day off on a day you were due to work. You assured him that it would fly in if he simply allowed himself to relax, but here he was… staring at the wall.

It was barely 10am and every chore Zayne could think of had been taken care of. He even had time to start some dough for a fresh loaf of bread, the batch slowly proofing beneath a dish towel in the kitchen.

He had half a mind to go into the hospital and put his time to better use. At least he would be able to achieve something instead of sitting here, wishing you were beside him. Empty hours wouldn’t feel so bad if you shared them. He never felt bored when you were here.

Zayne’s phone thrilled from the coffee table and one glance told him the message was from you. Expecting a cute little reminder message that he was to rest and relax, he was not anticipating what he read.

It wasn’t like you to complain unnecessarily, especially because you genuinely enjoyed your job, so he knew that it had to be rough for you to send that message.

Can I help?

When you didn’t reply, he went to check on his dough to distract himself from thoughts of you, miserable and feeling demotivated.

I don’t think so, but thanks for the offer. Might skip movie night if you don’t mind… think I’ll go to bed when I get home.

Well now, that was simply unacceptable. Zayne knew from experience that denying your emotions never solved the issue, and clearly he needed to remind you of that.

There was a knock on your office door. It jolted you upright from where you were slumped over your desk feeling defeated. A courier peeked inside with a sheepish smile and confirmed your name. Once he was satisfied, he produced a beautiful bouquet of flowers in a frosted glass vase.

“These are for me? Are you sure?”

“It’s your name on the card and on the order slip… so yep! Enjoy your flowers, miss.” The man gave a short salute and left you to admire the beautiful blooms.

Your fingers stroked the velvet petals of midnight pansies and silvery lilies. The smell was gentle and sweet, much like the smile adorning your face for the first time today.

You didn’t need the little card tucked into the display to know who they were from and immediately you pulled out your phone and pressed the call button.

“Do you send flowers to all your patients, Dr Zayne?”

Zayne hummed, thoughtful for a second. “Only the ones that have captured my heart.”

Your grin only widened, he was so sweet.

“I don’t know if you realise how much this has brightened my day, you darling man,” you admitted with a soft sob.

The sound of traffic on the other end of the line caught your attention, and you wondered where he might be if not at home. As if sensing your question, Zayne provided the answer unprompted.

“Then I guess taking you out to lunch might be considered overkill?”

“Wait, what?”

“Look outside,” he cooed.

You nearly stumbled out of your chair in your rush to approach the window that looked down on the busy streets below. From your vantage point you could make out a man with a head of midnight hair leaning casually against the trees in the courtyard. Your breath hitched when Zayne glanced up to where he knew your office was located and tipped his coffee cup in your direction.

“Oh, Zayne…”

“Yes?”

“I’m not going to want to come back after we eat,” you grumbled honestly.

“That’s fine. I planned on you having a minor allergic reaction that will require personal treatment. I already have the story planned out when I call your boss in an hour.”

This man thought of everything and right now, you were eternally grateful of that. Smothering your laughter behind your palm, you started to stuff your belongings haphazardly into your bag.

“Y’know what? I love you and every immaculately planned out thought inside that big wrinkly brain of yours.”

“… I love you too?”

“That was a compliment,” you assured him hastily, practically running for the lift.

“Oh. Well, thank you, darling. I’ll see you in a minute so I can return the sentiment correctly.”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace rafayel #sylus x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #sylus fluff #zayne fluff #xavier fluff #rafayel fluff #lads fluff #lnds fluff

1K notes · View notes

dunmeshistash · 7 months ago

Note

How do you feel about Milsiril? Like what do you think of her interactions between the canaries, her goals, her intentions and morality? I keep seeing people with mixed feelings about her, some saying she's just toxic or morally grey or doing bad but with good intentions or that she's just a mentally ill and literally so much more, also with the comic about Otta calling Milsiril love for her children/Kabru as just love for a pet, I always saw people take it at face value and say yes, Milsiril did love them more as pets instead of children, did she take up raising/adopting non-elf children because she felt like none of them could ridicule her like the elves did because they didn't know what an elf was supposed to be like (and also because they were children) or did she inherently view them as less? I mean the canaries and I'm pretty sure almost all of the cast in dungeon meshi have some sort perspective on different races especially because how they were taught about them, i just think it was interesting to finally see someone interpret it as Otta just misinterpreting Milsiril, I'm just really interested in her, i think shes neat, sorry for the rant!

Ooh, well to preface this, I hadn't really realized Milsiril was such a controversial character before my last post, I kinda live under a rock. She's really not a character I had given much thought besides what I wrote there before it, but I can do my best to express what I have thought since, with sources for it. I'm not sure what order to go thru so I'll just go by manga appearances and then extras, this will probably be quite a long post

This is the first time she shows up in the manga (ch55) Kabru is wondering about what future they might have if the elves take them into custody because of the ancient magic, he thinks about Milsiril as a get out of jail card, and mentions "There's a chance they would make us become permanent resident of the elven lands." with the image of Milsiril holding him. I don't think that means she would be the one to not let them leave, since this would probably be an legal issue, and the fact Milsiril lives away from other Elves. It does set up that Milsiril is quite overprotective tho, with Kabru's reaction to her teary hug. (rest is under a cut)

The next time she shows up is in ch61 right after Kabru falls down the dungeon along with Mithrun, he faints and has this flashback

She's being her overbearing self treating Kabru's small injury as if its something you need to be in bed for, hand feeding him like he's a toddler, and when he insists he wants to learn how to fight and be strong like her, she hugs him revealing to us for the first time her arm scars, she's cleary in distress too, so you wonder "what has happened to her?"

It continues in the next pages, as she tells him to stay there, where it's safe and there's cake, and describes the bad things he might encounter. Until he tells her he will go with or without her help

Honestly this is a Kabru we don't see often, this is the version of him that is usually in thought bubbles, he's blowing out in frustation over being smothered and demanding straight up what he wants, instead of trying to manipulate Milsiril, very blunt for him. Milsiril seems to flip a switch into battle mode, when she decides to train him for real.

I really thought this was funny, the visual of these cuddly toys and this Mom that was being so soft just a second ago completely flipping into something menacing is very amusing to me. She says "I'll give you an exhaustive, thorough training in how to use a sword... until you finally decide that you're ready to give up." although it sounds cruel, it seems she really trained him as best she could to make sure he would survive the dungeon. If he couldn't take the training with her there was no way he would be able to take on the dungeon, but he could, so much so that he managed to make her let him go. I can see this being seen as her trying to prevent him from going but to me it seems more like some tough love from a traumatized war veteran in this case.

The last thoughts he has is admitting his Mom was right, "Not only were there plenty of traps, monsters, and malice... but there were times when I felt so hungry and cold that I couldn't stand it."

And he concludes with "I never once thought that I wanted to go back there. That room where I could eat all the cake that I wanted..." While I can understand the interpretation that he means he would rather go thru all this than go back, perhaps cause he hated it there, I think it's rather a statement to how committed he is to defeating the dungeon, the visuals show him in rubble vs him in a soft big bed, the rough reality he fought to be able to face and the comfyness of what his life could be. Plus is mirroring exactly what Milsiril said to him. Admitting she was right about the bad things but that he won't give up for the safe easy life he had.

After that visuals of Milsiril are used while Kabru tries to sus out Mithrun but she shows up again in Mithrun's backstory.

Here she's straight up called Gloomy, which wasn't really the version of her we saw so far, gotta remember this is also how Mithrun saw her and that she was called gloomy as a way of bullying. Kabru mostly cuts off her part in the story until the end, when she's the one to find Mithrun after he was eaten by the demon

She doesn't really care much for Mithrun as we see in some extras, and she was ready to mercy kill him, but she is also the one to spare his life. This could be seen as her thinking he can still be of use, and it's how it sounds with how Kabru tells the story, but I do think this was also a merciful act, Mithrun was in rehabilitation for 20 years after being saved, by the time he was actually useful for anything Milsiril had already left the canaries and adopted Kabru.

Now for extras... About Mithrun/The Canaries, Milsiril was cleary someone that hated the people around her. This is her extra in the Adventurer's Bible

Milsiril seems to be the type that hates "popular kids" so to say, her description says she was bullied by other elves for being so introverted so I believe she holds a grudge against people like Mithrun that seem to have succeeded where she failed. But realizing he was a twisted person like her seemed to make her feel more sympathetic towards him, that's why I think she really did act with mercy when she saves Mithrun, he's now someone she sees as similar to her, she sees he also suffered like her

Her decription also mentions she left the canaries specifically because she was disgusted with how the Utaya situation was dealt with. Yet it seems like she came back to help Mithrun with his rehabilitation once she quits.

There's an interpretation to be made that she did this only to get "revenge" on the demon since she just saw the destruction of Utaya, and that she's using him. On the other hand maybe she wants to help him find a motivation to live, she's no longer a canary and she has time to actually help him now. I don't know which one is the truth but it's not obviously something self-serving if you ask me. Especially in the context that right before this scene Milsiril admits she wishes they could have talked before.

My interpretation of her relationship with the canaries and other elves is that she's someone depressed that was mistreat for her 'quirky' side, the dolls are clearly one of the ways she used to cope with anxiety/depression but it only caused her to be bullied by her own kin, she's the daughter of an important family and it's shown in other extras, including one about Mithrun, that nobles often send out the kids they don't want around to become canaries. It's an easy way to get rid of someone undesirable and I think it was the case for Milsiril. (Pattadol even assumes her parents love her less than her sisters for sending her to join the canaries).

No wonder than that now that she's finally free from the canaries she chose to seek her own happiness away from the society she felt she could never fit into, she clearly likes to take care of children too, I think it's mean to assume she only likes them because she feels superior to them when there's no indication that this is the case.

And I don't think it's a coincidence she's so overprotective of Kabru after Utaya, it's literally the tragedy that was the breaking point for her, and he's a surviving small child from that tragedy, Milsiril cares about Kabru and wanted him to have a comfortable safe life after everything he went thru...

This ended up getting way too long so I'll make second part tomorrow about the rest of the extras and Kabru, and some other things I've seen said about Milsiril, but to answer the questions...

I don't think she treats her children as pets, Otta is just salty she was called out for dating like Leo Dicaprio.

Every single dungeon meshi character can be called morally grey because they all have flaws that in our world can be considered unforgivable, but they don't live in our world. To me Milsiril is doing her best in the context she lives in.

Who even is neurotypical in dungeon meshi, Milsiril is yet another flavour of a neurodivergent traumatized character among so many.

I believe she thought of the other canaries, especially Mithrun, as the same type of people that were cruel to her, probably because some of them really were, but that she generalized it to the point she thinks of all of them as bad by default. You can only get hurt so many times before you assume everyone will hurt you.

Part 2

#dungeon meshi #adventurers bible #this is REALLY long because I dont know how to say things #and I want people to make their own interpretations of this...#Milsiril #Ask #Long post #longpost #Part 1 of 2 #Edit: I went back and rewrote some stuff I thought were written in a confusing way #I keep repeating this in tags but I really am bad at writting I say things in a weird order using strange words sometimes #If you ever dont understand something I said please ask #dunmeshi thoughts #character ask

1K notes · View notes

jonathansthickthighs · 7 months ago

Text

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Yandere! Choso Kamo x Reader

Description: You start receiving sweet, anonymous love notes from a secret admirer which start turning perverted over time.

Trigger Warnings: 7.4k words, nsfw, college AU, yandere, afab reader, obsessive love, virgin choso, CREEP CHOSO, pervert choso, stalker choso, masturbation, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), choso is kinda pathetic, he calls reader princess, reader is lowkey into choso stalking her, dark themes

Not edited!

Masterlist

I wish you could grasp the exquisite beauty you hold in my eyes. ♡︎

Your eyes widened as you read the note placed in front of you on your desk, heat rushing to your cheeks. Surely this person must be mistaken, was this note really directed at you? You looked around the empty classroom wondering who could’ve possibly left this note on your desk and if they were even in this class. Even if you weren’t sure if the note was for you, suppressing the smile that was forming in your face felt impossible. Nobody had ever said anything like this to you before. Sure, people found you attractive, but the way this was written almost felt innocent— like there was no malicious intent behind it. The complete opposite of what most men that approached you were like.

You traced your hand over the neat calligraphy, feeling your heart rate speed up at the thought of someone truly thinking this about you. You couldn’t help yourself from reading it over and over, allowing your lips to curl up knowing no one was around to see you smiling at a paper like an idiot.

Unbeknownst to you, a tall, pale man with dark hair styled in space buns, stood there observing you discretely through the small window of the amphitheater door. Your reaction to his note caused his heart to leap with joy, the sight of your smile held the power to brighten even his darkest days. Your response to his message only inspired him to dedicate his time to write you more notes that would make you feel as flustered as he was by you when you spared him a single glance.

Choso stepped away from the door smoothly when he started hearing voices approaching from down the hall, pretending to be entertained by his phone. He glanced at the time on the screen, noticing it was almost time for class, but he opted to wait for everyone else to walk in before him. He always did this. Never had he been alone with you in the classroom even though he always arrived before you. He always stood behind a wall watching you stride gracefully into class earlier than everyone else. You were such a smart, punctual, responsible girl and he admired that greatly. He loathed never being capable of being alone with you, knowing he would be a blushing, horny mess— quite frankly, that’s not the first impression he wanted you to have of him.

Taking a deep breath, Choso walked in, making his way to his usual sit, two rows behind you, yet at a perfectly angle where he was able to contemplate your side profile. The moment he walked past you, your eyes locked. You offered him a small, cute smile and Choso wanted nothing more than to beam back at you, but instead he drifted his eyes away from yours, blushing in embarrassment. You exuded such kindness, always greeting him with the warmth of your pretty smile, even amidst the whispers and judgements surrounding his oddness. You kept smiling for him even when he didn’t smile back.

Choso was a very shy man. He didn’t know how to talk to girls, but that wasn’t something he was interested in doing before he met you. Dating had never been something he took interest in. Despite his brothers’ persistent attempts to orchestrate romantic encounters with women, they would always be left disheartened by Choso’s aloofness, proof of his disinterest in the affairs of the heart until he found you. None of them were like you.

The pale man proceeded his daily routine of observing you, not paying attention to what the professor was explaining. To him, this was his time to learn all your quirks and movements. His own personal course of you. Don’t you dare ask him anything on what the class is actually about because he’ll just answer with facts and observations about you. Like how you chew on the cap of your pen furiously when you don’t understand a subject or how you shift in your seat every few minutes because you just can’t seem to find a comfortable position to sit in.

He finds solace in studying your countenance, captivated by your vivid expressions, particularly your expressive eyes. The eyes are the windows of your soul, as they say. They unveil the depth of your emotions, he could tell when something was off about you by merely looking into your eyes— your feelings always danced within them. Being able to stare into your eyes without fear of rejection was one of his deepest desires in life. Feeling lost was a petrifying emotion, but losing himself to the never ending abysm that lived in your orbs was something he would never be apprehensive of.

You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. There isn’t a second in the day where you are not invading my thoughts. I wish I had the courage to speak to you.

Reading the note that was accompanied by a beautiful rose this time, you pouted, wondering why this person was so afraid to approach you. According to your own judgment, you gave off a friendly demeanor. If only you could figure out who was leaving you these notes. You weren’t afraid of approaching them first if they were too shy to do so themselves. You had been getting these notes for a month now and no matter how early you got to class this person always beat you to it. Deciding to form a plan to get this person to show themselves, you started brainstorming.

You could never begin to comprehend the depths of Choso’s love for you. That’s why you would never understand his reasoning when he followed that disgusting man that harassed you on campus. You would never understood why he had to pull the man to an empty alley and make him suffer. Choso hated that he had been at work when it all went down, he wasn’t there to save you and he would never forgive himself for it.

He was lucky you were able to scape him, but nonetheless you would’ve never went through that horrifying situation if only he had been there to protect you. He came to the conclusion that he needed to know your location at all times. That’s why he pretended to bump into you as you made your way to your other class, slipping an AirTag into one of the pockets of your bag discreetly.

He could imagine look of fear in your eyes when this man tried putting his grimy hands on you— it was enough to drive Choso to violence. He wanted to cause that scum the same fear he had caused his precious girl. The lengths he would go for you were unimaginable. What would you think of him if you knew he had stabbed that man to death that night? Even through his internal turmoil about your perception of him, he couldn’t help but feel proud at what he had done for you. From the moment he saw you, he knew he was capable of anything just to keep you safe.

One thing he felt grandly ashamed of was his perverted thoughts. To him you were much more than just a sexual object, but he couldn’t stop his cock from getting hard at the trivial thought of you. Never before had he experienced sexual desire this intense before, because of that, he was still a virgin at his age. Losing his virginity had never even crossed his mind before. Yet, after he met you, he couldn’t stop imagining how pushing his length into your wet, tight heat would feel like.

Every night he would spend it scrolling endlessly through your social media— which he didn’t dare follow— and staring at your beautiful pictures, smiling at him so sweetly. Choso would stare at them intently, thrusting his cock into his fist desperately, moaning your name, imaging you were riding him vigorously trying to make yourself orgasm on his throbbing cock. Thinking about it was enough to make him explode all over his hand and well built abs. Abs he had spent hours at the gym working on to look good just for you. He wanted— no needed you to find him attractive, if he wanted you to only see him he had to make sure he looked his best.

He had trouble containing his excitement when you were around, you simply were too beautiful for your own good. Hence the reason he stood outside the window of your apartment jerking his cock as he watched you rubbing your swollen clit through the window. He wanted nothing more than to climb through the damn window and attach his hungry lips to your clit, which was just begging for his attention. It wasn’t the first time he watched you masturbate, it was clear as day that you needed some help, his help. When you accepted to be his, he would gladly service you every day and night. It didn’t matter how many times as long as you were satisfied, he promised to put your pleasure above his always.

Choso massaged his throbbing cock thoroughly, spreading the precum that leaked from his sensitive tip all over his shaft. He covered his mouth attempting to muffled his pathetic whimpers from being heard by you. He continued watching as you inserted two fingers into your tight cunt, making Choso’s eyes roll all the way to the back of his skull. He wished he could be the one pushing his digits inside of you. He was sure they would feel better than yours, his were so much bigger, they would reach depths you’ve never reached before. Gods, your moans were the most melodious sound he’d ever heard, you were driving him insane— he wasn’t going to be able to hold it much longer. He needed you to come with him. He didn’t deserve to come if you didn’t.

Your facial expressions were the sexiest thing he has ever witnessed. You were simply godly, there was no other way to describe you. The beads of sweat forming on your forehead and coating the rest of your body gave you a breathtaking glow. He needed to taste your skin, kiss and run his tongue all over your delectable body. “Please…” Choso didn’t know what he was begging for, what he did know was how badly he wanted you. His twitching cock was proof of that.

Choso could see your face contort in pleasure. He learned by watching you so often that, when you made that expression, it meant you were close to reaching your peak. He felt relieved knowing that he wouldn’t have lasted much longer. “Let’s come together, princess. P-please, give this to me.” He uttered in a hushed tone, moaning your name lowly.

He shivered as you started fingering yourself at a quicker pace, arching your back. It was almost like you were inviting him to ogle at your heaving breasts, your nipples he so badly wanted to take in his mouth, noticeably perky through the thin fabric of your oversized shirt. Choso would make sure to provide you with a lifetime supply of his shirts, you would never feel obligated to buy an oversized shirt ever again.

Your jaw slacked open as you let it all out, making Choso undergo through a confusing sense of jealousy over your own fingers, yearning to feel you releasing your sweet nectar around his cock instead. Breath heaving, he fisted his pulsing cock a couple of more times, enjoying the sound of the lewd noises that came out of your perfect lips, before spraying an copious amount semen on the ground. He tugged on his cock a few more time, coming down from his high at the same time as you.

“Goodnight, I love you.” His voice barely a sigh as he whispered longingly. He tucked himself back into his pants swiftly before pressing a soft kiss into the tip of his fingers to then drag them it across your reflection in the window. He jumped recalling he should’ve been at his place by now, having lost track of time completely, knowing he had to prepare dinner for his brothers. So with one last look at you, he disappeared into the night.

When Choso arrived to the amphitheater he was surprised to see a note on your desk already. He quickly approached it, grabbing the note, recognizing your handwriting right away.

I want to meet you.

He stilled in place at the five words scribbled on the paper. You were actually interested in finding out who he was? Choso couldn’t decipher what your intent was, but he wasn’t so sure he wanted you to know your secret admirers identity just yet. He knew you were well aware of the swirling rumors about him, everyone painted him as nothing more than a freak. His demeanor remained reserved and he preferred solitude over companionship, which only fueled the disdain others had towards his persona. He wanted to believe you would never see him in such way, but there was always something stabbing him on the side, whispering the possibility that you, too, might harbor the same prejudices as them.

Choso opted to respond to your message briefly, accompanying it by one of your favorite treats before rushing out of the classroom, aware that you would arrive at any moment.

Just like that, exactly one minutes later you entered through the opposite door Choso exited from. You took notice of the note on your desk from afar and quickened your pace towards it in excitement. Smiling, you inspected the treat placed right next to it. How this person knew what your favorite things to snack on were, remained a mystery to you, but it didn’t bother you as long as they kept them coming. Grabbing the note and opening it, your smile disappeared only to reappear in Choso’s face as he watched your reaction. Your facial expression were just so funny to him sometimes.

No. ♡︎

“The fuck?” You exclaimed out loud in disbelief. No? Just no?! You pondered the ulterior motives of this individual. Had they just been playing a month long prank on you this whole time? Visibly frustrated, you plopped down into your seat, glancing at the note once again to make sure you were reading correctly.

Choso felt guilt wash over him when he saw you get genuinely upset, yet he couldn’t suppress the soft giggle that escaped his mouth at how cute you looked when you were mad. He despised that he made you feel this way, but he would reveal himself to you when he was ready and now, was not the right time.

Routinely, he lingered behind for everyone to enter ahead of him before making his entrance. Like he always did, he passed by your row, his eyes inevitably sought yours yearning for that connection he felt with them. This time, an impulse seized Choso, deciding to give you a tentative smile only to not be greeted by your own— mirroring the same coldness he always showed you each time you beamed at him. Bewildered and wounded, he hurried to his seat feeling like he just received a punch in the gut. Was your behavior due to your exasperation at the note or was it because you allowed everyone to taint your mind with the rumors about him?

The pain he felt by your indifference towards him lingered in his chest. Choso spent the whole lecture overthinking, anxiety building in his stomach and causing him to tremble. There was one thing he was completely certain of.

He hated when you didn’t smile for him.

Gloom filled the rest of Choso’s day ever since you decided to stab him in the heart with your frown. Today he had the evening free from his job and he decided to spend it staring at your pictures with a leaky, throbbing erection straining against his sweatpants. He didn’t deserve to ease himself after the events that transpired today. Staring at one of his favorite pictures of you smiling so prettily, he ran his thumb desirously over your face through the screen of his phone. He fantasized about the softness of your skin as he cupped your gorgeous face in his big hands before pressing his lips to yours. He ran his fingers over his chapped lips imagining how they would feel rubbing against your soft ones.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the door of his room slam open, holding his phone to his chest securely before facing whoever forced him break out of his delusions. “Yo, bro where’s the—“ Yuji cut himself off when he saw the strange position his brother was in. “You’re not watching porn are you?” He questioned, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Choso.

This caused Choso to shake his head rapidly, with widened eyes. “W-what? Of course not, Yuji! What is it that you need?” He inquired eager to usher his brother out of his room with utmost haste.

Yuji smiled slyly, sliding into his bed. “What are hiding, bro?” He curiously interrogated his older brother, wiggling his eyebrows comically.

Choso chuckled nervously, his grasp on his phone tightened against his chest. “N-nothing, just scrolling, heh.” Way to go, Choso, you can never hide anything from your prying brother. This caused Yuji to snicker, throwing himself towards Choso, fighting him for his cellphone. “Don’t think I don’t see your raging boner, bro. Let me see what you’re looking at!” He joked, attempting to force his phone out of his iron grip.

“Why are you even looking there, brother? Gross!” Choso quipped back, his voice muffled by his brothers hand on his face. With a victorious laugh, Yuji suspended his arm in the air seeing Choso’s phone in his hand.

Yuji quickly unlocked his older brother’s phone because, of course, he had no passcode. “Whoa, she’s so pretty. Who is this?” He exclaimed in astonishment, scrolling through your profile, bamboozled at the fact that his virgin brother was finally taking interest in an actual girl.

“Yuji, please just give me my phone back.” Choso sighed in defeat, not wanting to talk to his brother about his obsessive love for you.

“Is she your crush?” Yuji questioned playfully, dragging the last word. Choso furrowed his eyebrows together, before nodding awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. His younger brother erupted in a boisterous laugh, rolling on his bed like a madman. “About damn time, bro! I was staring to think you were going to die alone— wait, why aren’t you following her?” Yuji inquired, confused by what he was seeing on the phone screen.

“I— we’ve never really talked.” Choso sheepishly admitted, heat creeping up his neck in embarrassment.

“Unacceptable. Let’s talk to her now!” Immediately after that suggestion, Choso ripped his phone from Yuji’s hand.

“Are you insane? She’s gonna think I’m a creep!” Which he was, but he didn’t need his brother knowing that.

Yuji shook his head in disbelief. “Okay, so help me understand. You don’t talk to her and she doesn’t talk to you. I bet you can barely look at her in the eye. How exactly do you plan on getting your crush to evolve, bro? Are you going to pine in secret forever? Do you think one day she’ll come to our door asking for your hand in marriage out of nowhere?” I wish.

“You know what?” Yuji snatched Choso’s phone back, smirking, before pressing the follow button.

“Yuji, no!” Choso pulled his space buns in frustration, falling back on his bed. He glanced at the watch on his nightstand knowing you most likely had your phone on your hand at this hour. There was no way you would miss the notification.

“Chill, bro, it’s done. You’re welcome!” Yuji beamed as he threw Choso’s phone back to his chest, his grin radiating with accomplishment as he rose from the bed, making his way out of the room with a satisfied stride. Choso groaned, covering his face with hands as he blushed furiously. Not even a minute after Yuji walked out of the room he felt his phone vibrate and Choso’s heart almost came out through his mouth when he saw the notification.

You followed him back.

The next day you walked through the door of the amphitheater with a gleeful spring in your step— your frustrations from yesterday seemingly dissipated. You decided you weren’t going to force whoever was sending you notes to show themselves. They have the right to remain hidden if that’s what they truly desired and you weren’t one to beg anyone for anything. If something was bound to happen with your secret admirer, it would.

As per usual, a folded paper laid on your desk, but you were quick to take notice of the white paper bag that stood next to it. You furrowed your eyebrows as curiosity took over you, almost skipping towards it. The note was brief and straight to the point.

Would you wear this for me?

As you blinked, a sense of puzzlement washed over you upon reading the note. Now they’re sending you clothing items? The bag, securely sealed with tape, offered no deterrent as you swiftly tore it open. Instantly, a surge or heat flooded your cheeks at the sight of its contents. You moved your gaze around, making sure no one was around before pulling out a box that held a pair of panties, colored a deep purple, made out of lace, see through material. Oh, but they weren’t just any panties, it was one of those vibrating underwear that was controlled by someone else with a controller.

You couldn’t believe what your eyes were seeing right now. Out of all the endless note you had received from them, this was way out of the ordinary. None of them had shown anything sexual, not even innuendos. You hated to admit it, but you didn’t know wether to feel disrespected or severely turned on at the thought of your secret admirer controlling the vibrations during class. You bit you lips giving it some thought before nodding with determination. You shoved the panties back in the bag, advancing out of the classroom in direction to the restroom.

Choso watched in disbelief as you walked out, scarcely able to believe that you were actually going to wear his gift. Today, he had woken up feeling bold and after the confidence boost he got from you the night before, he had decided to procure something a little more special for you. After you followed him back, he saw it as a signal that you didn’t see him as everyone else did. Perhaps you two would be meeting sooner than he had anticipated, yet first, he wanted to test the waters.

He needed to assess the extent of your willingness to invest in him without even knowing his identity. He would’ve never guessed this would be something that excited him at this extent, his cock was fully erect as he eagerly waited for you to come back. He wished he could see the way those panties would cling to your hips and ass— something told him he would sooner than later. He had specifically bought that color to match his hoodie, which he was wore today in hopes you would wear his gift. And you did.

By the time you were back, everyone had settled to their seats already, including Choso. The moment you stepped into the classroom, he pressed the button in its lowest setting drawing a whimper from your lips, making everyone turn their attention towards you. Your eyes widened, swiftly offering an awkward, yet apologetic smile before ushering to your seat. While you were in the restroom you were able to catch sight of what the box the panties came in said— your secret admirer had failed to notice that the box indicated that the vibrations were controlled by a close-range remote control. Now you were able to confirm that your admirer was in this very class.

Choso smirked as he watched you take a seat, nobody else noticed, but there was a slight wobble to your walk— only a person that observed you constantly could differentiate from you usual stride. He proceeded to change the vibrations to the medium setting, almost chuckling out loud when he saw you jump slightly at the sudden change of speed. He could only imagine how wet your cunt was getting. Such a dirty girl, getting off to being controlled by a man she doesn’t even know in front of everyone. Would you be able to orgasm like this?

The pale man had to contain a hiss as he palmed his throbbing cock over his pants under the table, desiring nothing more than to give it to you on the spot. He could see the noticeable embarrassment on your face from his angle. Shifting on your seat every so often, covering your mouth with your hands as you attempted to take your notes and your eyes rolling back every time he changed the speed. He simply loved watching you look around, making sure no one noticed your odd behavior. Choso never knew this could be so hot.

Choso bit his lip, cock twitching in his now too tight pants, seeing your chest heaving up and down. He could tell you were close, so he decided to change it to the highest speed. He watched you lower your head, tightly shutting your eyes closed as you came, muffling your whimpers with your hand. Unbeknownst to you, Choso was in the same exact position as you as he released in his trousers by simply observing you.

He was thankful he decided to wear dark pants today.

I know I messed up, princess. I shouldn’t have given you the panties in the box. Now you know how close I am to you. Nevertheless, I really enjoyed watching you squirm in pleasure in your seat. This is embarrassing to admit, but you were so sexy that you made me come in my pants. I hate wasting my cum that way when it could easily be inside you instead.

I’ve been thinking about it and I changed my mind about us meeting. How about we meet at the fountain in the middle of campus? Tonight at 8pm. I bought you a little something to wear for me. ♡

You hadn’t stopped re-reading the note ever since you left class. The dark, purple summer dress he had bestowed upon you lay delicately on your bed as you wished time would hasten its pace, eager to encounter this mysterious individual. Excitement bubbled up in your stomach as well as fear, what if this person turned out to be less than benevolent? There was barely anyone around campus at that hour, there no one to save you. Memories of the time that man had tried harassing you flooded your mind, not wanting the past to repeat itself. Yet your longing to meet this person persisted more than your anxieties. That’s why you opted to pack a pepper spray and a pocket knife in your bag without forgetting to share your location with your best friend.

Noticing the time to leave was approaching, you quickly dressed yourself, spritzing one of your favorite perfume on yourself before stepping out the door.

Choso was a nervous wreck, having arrived an hour too early. He had been sweating bullets the whole time as he attempted to get ready, forcing him to endure three showers. How was he supposed to look his best for you when his body wasn’t cooperating? He had wore his best outfit for you and made sure his hair was neatly styled in his usual do.

Now, he was there, struggling to regulate his breathing, trying his hardest to control his sweating. He dreaded appearing like a disheveled mess when you finally met. He kept checking the time, despising how extended each minute felt. He scrolled through your account, attempting to make time pass by faster, entertaining himself with your pictures as he always did when he felt down. He took notice of the time, seeing it was already one minute past eight. Where were you?

You were merely a minute late, yet panic took over him, entertaining thoughts of being left abandoned or worse yet, fearing that something had happened to you on the way here. Rising to his feet, he scanned the dimly lit campus and there was no sight of you. This couldn’t be happening to him. He could almost feel tears forming his eyes and just as he was about to check your location, he heard soft steps approaching through the grass.

He turned around and there you were.

He gulped when he saw you were wearing the dress he had gifted you with so much love. You were so beautiful, his heart twisted in his chest. For the first time it was just you and him— with your knowledge, obviously. He stared into your eyes and you stared right back. Your eyes were wide in astonishment. Choso attempted to open his mouth, but no words came out.

“It’s you.” You stated, your voice almost a whisper. Choso’s chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, his gaze was fixated on your pretty face and he couldn’t possibly look away. So, so pretty— he wanted to snatch you away and hide you from the world, your beauty shinning for his eyes only. He probably had a lovestruck look on his face and he didn’t even care about hiding it anymore.

“Y-yeah.” That was all Choso could manage to utter out, wishing he had left his hair down so it would at least cover part of his flushed face.

“You’re a shy little thing aren’t you?” You giggled, taking a few steps closer to him. “You can’t even look at me in the eye for more than a second.” You added as you tried to catch his golden brown eyes, surrounded by what seemed like red eyeshadow, but in reality the crimson around his eyes was brought to you by his lack of sleep. Choso kept his gaze on the ground, feeling the back of his neck starting to sweat. “You were incredibly bold the other day, not what I would expect from a man like you. Consider me pleasantly surprised.” He blushed harder at your compliment.

“Y-you liked it?” Choso inquired attempting to meet your eyes again, almost whimpering at how close you were to him. He could feel the warmth radiating from your body.

“Honestly, I found it quite disrespectful.” You started, making Choso’s eyes open up as he started apologizing profusely, but he was cut short. “But that was only at first. The more thought I gave it, the wetter I got. I fucking loved it, Choso.” His dick shot straight up the moment he heard his name leave your lips, he had longed to heart it for longer than you could muster. You drew yourself nearer to him until your soft chest was pressed against his hard one. Choso could stop his eyes from glueing themselves to your chest, being squeezed against his own. He was rock hard.

“Now it’s my turn to be bold with you, Choso. Would you like to go back to my place and show me what you can do with that, instead of a vibrator?” You suggested, biting your lip as you cupped his member in your hand. The golden eyed man couldn’t hold his whimpers when he felt your hand on him. This was not the way he visualized this night, but there was no way he would reject your offer.

“Let’s go.” Choso agreed eagerly.

You grabbed his hand as you both started hurrying towards your apartment which was only five minutes away. He was certain he would never tire of the feeling of your hand on his. He stared at you face, not believing you were truly here with him. He couldn’t stop himself from slipping your hand from his and lifting you up into his arms, carrying you the rest of the way.

“Oh? You seem to know the way to my apartment, have you been stalking me?” You questioned playfully, poking his cheek. Choso stopped on his tracks, looking at your facial expression trying to find the reassurance that you were truly playing with him right now. “Jeez, Choso! Relax a little, I’m only joking. I wouldn’t mind you stalking me, I’ve always thought you were the hottest guy in class.” You winked at him, causing a genuine smile to creep to his red face as he continued his way to your apartment.

The moment you arrived at your apartment, Choso rushed to your bedroom with you still in his arms, placing you gently on your bed. He sat next to you, feeling the sheets of your mattress, reminiscing of all the times he had been in here without your knowledge. You placed a hand on his thigh softly and he flexed it as he felt himself tense up when you got closer to him. “W-wait. I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

You stared at him in bewilderment. “You’re being serious right now?”

“Yes. I-I’m sorry. I wanted to let you know in case I wasn’t… good. We don’t have to continue if you don’t want.” Choso apologized, starting to get up and walk himself out of your apartment, only to be stopped by you.

“It’s okay, Choso. I just can’t believe a guy that looks like you has never done anything like this before.” You admitted as you cupped his face gently. The fact that you found him this attractive made his chest inflate with pride— after all, he always tried to look his best for you. “Can I kiss you?” You asked for permission and he answered with an eager nod. You closed the space between you both, massaging your lips into his surprisingly soft ones. Choso placed his hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze, making you open your mouth ardently for him to slide his tongue in. Your wet tongue felt like heaven against his, you kiss was skyrocketing him into an abysm of serendipity. He never thought kissing could feel this good.

You slowly pulled away, a string of saliva keeping your lips connected to one another. “That was amazing, [Name]. Thank you.” Choso gratefully expressed, a lovesick smile lingering on his face.

Your lips formed into a smirk before pushing him back on your bed, climbing onto his lap and crashing your lips into his once again. He responded right away by sliding his tongue across your bottom lips, desperate for you to allow him entrance into your wet cavern and you complied enthusiastically. As you shared the reverent kiss you started grinding you hips against the tent in pants, making him grunt into the kiss. You pulled away from him momentarily to lift off his shirt, revealing his chiseled abs. “Wow, you’re so strong, Choso.” You praised him, dragging your hand over them, making him hiss at the contact.

“It’s all for you, princess.” He admitted, daring to place his hand on your ass that was half covered by the purple fabric of the dress. “Gods, I’ve wanted to grab this ass for such a long time. You’re so damn breathtaking.” He added squeezing your globs firmly.

“You can touch me wherever you want from now on.” You replied shakily, feeling your panties damped more by the minute. Having him feel you up and grope you this way was making you inexplicably horny.

Choso moved one of his hand tentatively up your thigh until he reached your crotch, looking up at you for permission to touch that sacred place. You gave a nod, understanding exactly what he was asking for. Choso wasted no time, running his fingers over your clothed pussy. You shut your eyes, quivering as you felt him graze your sensitive clit, wanting for him to pull your panties off and touch you without a barrier. “Can I taste you?” You slowly unveiled your eyes to find Choso begging you with his eyes to allow him the pleasure of eating you out. You nodded zealously, getting off his lap, standing in front of him as he remained seated.

Choso pulled your dress off, slowly exposing you to him. “I can’t belive how beautiful you are.” He ran his eyes over your body, adorned by some cute purple, lace lingerie, making him grin adoringly. It seemed that you knew by now he loved that color on you. As much as he loved the way you looked in the little piece you decided to wear for him, he needed it off. Now.

He attempted to undo your bra, needing your assistance due to his lack of experience, making you giggle. He slowly pulled the bra off, revealing your naked breasts to him. He couldn’t help himself from ogling your breasts like a pervert, he had wanted to see you fully nude for such an extended period of time— he was going to enjoy every minute of it.

The curve of your waist was inviting him run his hands through it until they reached your hips and with that he pulled you closer to him, until your breasts were close enough to his face. He took one of your perky nipples in his mouth, sucking like he was starved while he pulled gently on your other nipple. He moved his other hand down to your cunt to rub on your clit over the thin fabric, while simultaneously stimulating your sensitive nipples. It was too much for you, moans flew out of your mouth unstoppably. You were incredibly wet.

He moved on to suckle on your other nipple, enjoying the taste of your skin thoroughly. He released your nipple with a wet pop, yearning to taste your juices on his tongue. He hooked his finger on your panties before pulling them down in a swift motion. He pushed you gently onto your bed. He spread your legs apart, groaning at the sight of your sopping wet cunt. “Such a pretty little pussy. I’ve always wanted to have my mouth right here.” Choso expressed as he placed a finger on your clit, always begging for his attention. “You don’t know how many times I’ve jerked off watching you touch yourself.” He let the confession slip out before he could stop himself.

“You’ve watched me touch myself? That’s so fucking hot!” You threw your head back as he started rubbing consistent circles on you clit. He decided he had teased himself long enough and it was finally time to taste you. He started by giving you a long lick, dragging his inexperienced tongue upwards from your entrance towards your clit, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull as he delighted himself with your taste for the first time. He stilled for a moment before attacking your clit with his mouth. With your guidance he was able to lick at just the right spot, earning breathy moans from you. You chanted his name as he licked your sensitive bud with no plans on stopping until you fed him your nectar.

“Don’t stop, Choso! Put your fingers inside me!” You squeaked out as he quickly complied, your walls squeezing around his fingers and he reached places you’ve never reached with your own fingers. “I’m gonna come soon!” You whined, squeezing his head between your thighs as you arched your back in pleasure.

He speed up the movements of his tongue, delighting himself with the taste of your pussy, thrusting his digits inside you at a rapid pace. He squeezed his eyes shut, moaning into your clit, knowing he was going to make you orgasm with his mouth just like he always desired. Once he felt you clench around his finger tightly he knew it was over. A scream of his name rippled your throat as you let it all out. You shivered as you came down from your, legs trembling in ecstasy. Choso stayed attached to your pussy with his eyes closed, body quivering, lapping up your delightful juices. You had once again made him come in his pants.

Choso stood up from his knees, unfastening his trousers, kicking them off his feet, desperate to finally feel you pussy. You stared at his cum covered cock, taking in his size. “You’re huge, Choso.” You said eyeing him lustfully. The lewd look on your face made his dick stand up completely straight even after having came just now.

You shimmied yourself onto the middle of the bed encouraging him to climb in with you. Choso complied, hungrily contemplating your body. He loved absolutely every part of it. Placing himself on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight, he pressed his lips against yours, missing the feeling of them. While you were kissing he started grinding his cock against your soaking wet heat. His erect member was in desperate need to be sheathed by your warmth.

Choso grabbed his member by the base, rubbing the tip against your entrance teasingly slow, spreading the cum that coated him all over your pussy. “Push it in, please, Choso.” You begged, voice wavering in desire. Hearing you plead for him awakened something different in him, he no longer felt embarrassed or ashamed about anything. You had accepted him. From this day on you had become officially his and he owned your pretty body. Nothing could stop him now, nobody would take you away from him.

Satisfying your plea, he pushed in, stretching out your tight cunt with his girth. He grunted in pleasure as you engulfed him in your heat, burring his head in the crook of your neck. Your jaw slacked open as you felt his immense size enter you, feeling him in your stomach as he bottomed out. “F-fuck, princess. You feel amazing, s-so tight!” Choso complimented, conscious that he wasn’t going to last at all. Your pussy clenched deliciously around him, a sensation he had never felt before. He knew you’d understand.

“Oh, Choso! You’re so deep inside my pussy!” You managed to babble out, already feeling drunk on his cock. You grabbed onto his space buns, undoing them so you could see him with his hair down and what a great decision that was. This man was gorgeous, his long raven locks falling down his face, giving him a more rugged look. You couldn’t stop the moans that escaped your lips at just the mere sight of him.

Choso whimpered your name, ramming his cock deep inside you at a steady pace. “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer, princess. I’m s-sorry.” He uttered out shakily, caressing your face lovingly. He started pumping his cock inside you at an inhuman speed feeling his orgasm approaching faster by the second.

“L-let me feel your cum inside me, Choso. Just like you said you wanted in your note!” Your words alone made him quiver out his orgasm with a loud groan of your name. He moaned, throwing his head back as your cunt milked his semen out of him, injecting it straight in your womb. You moaned enjoying the warm feeling of his spent filling you up. He continued thrusting erratically and sloppily, stilling inside you, wanting to feel the warmth of your pussy for a little longer.

“I love you so much.” He confessed breathlessly, keeping his head buried in your neck as he caught his breath, relishing the way your body molded into his perfectly. You were meant to be his. Deciding to finally pull out, he hissed as he watched your mixed juices drip out of your hole. This had been the best night of his entire life.

All thanks to you. ♡︎

#yandere #yandere choso #yandere choso kamo #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere choso x reader #yandere choso kamo x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jjk #yandere x reader #tw: dark content #stalker choso #dark choso #jjk smut #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen smut #creep choso #yandere tw

1K notes · View notes

merrybloomwrites · 21 days ago

Text

When You're Lost, Just Look For Me

Summary: You’re not always good at asking for what you need. Luckily your bandmates know when you need a little extra love and are there to support you.

Word Count: 2.5K

CW: mentions of: neglectful family, periods, little bit of online hate

This story is set in the 1D days, and therefore Liam is a main character just like the other boys. Wanted to give a heads up in case anyone wants to avoid stories with him in it.

AN: When the news broke last week I wasn’t sure if I was going to continue writing, and really didn’t know what I would write about if I did. But then Passing Contact doubled in notes so I took that as a hint that it’s what people might want to read right now. So I decided to write a part 2 in hopes that it can help people in any way.

I have a couple other ideas for stories of reader x one direction that would also take place back when they were touring, but if you have any requests please let me know

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

It’s a day off in a random hotel room in a random city in the United States. Of that you’re sure. But you're not sure of much else at the moment.

You’re thinking back to the past few days. You’d messed up your backing vocals on stage, and had to re-record your parts for the next album because you just could not get it right. Numerous rumors were being spread about you being spotted with random boys, leading to renewed comments calling you all kinds of nasty things.

You’re still in your pajamas, which you realize somehow consist of a pair of Louis’ sweatpants, one of Zayn's t-shirts, and a sweatshirt Liam had given you a week ago that you have yet to return. You think about texting one of them to come hang out, but you don’t want your glum mood to bring them down. Instead you turn on the TV and wrap yourself in all your blankets.

It’s what you always did as a child when you were sad. Your family was never open with their emotions, and affection made them uncomfortable. From a young age you knew that going to your parents for comfort would end with rejection. So you’d learned how to comfort yourself.

The blanket nest barely does its job today, and you’re still lost in your thoughts of self doubt when a knock at the door startles you.

For a second you think about ignoring it, but odds are the person knocking wouldn’t just go away. So you pull yourself up and open the door, seeing Niall there waiting for you.

“Hey, haven’t heard from you today, wanted to see what you’re up to,” he says.

You’re hit with a wave of embarrassment, not wanting to admit that you've been wallowing all day.

“Just taking it easy,” you reply, “Catching up on sleep.” It’s believable enough, none of you sleep too well on the bus and this is your first hotel bed in over a week.

“I hear ya, think I slept twelve hours straight,” Niall says with a laugh.

Knowing that he’s hoping for an invitation you step aside and motion your arm, silently asking him to join you in your room. You glance around quickly, glad to see everything is neat except the bed. You hope that he doesn’t judge the mess of blankets, and considering he just kicks off his shoes and climbs into your bed, you assume he’s fine with it.

“What are we watching?” Is his next question so you sit on the other side of the bed and pass him the remote, allowing him to scroll through the channels until he finds some nature show that looks mildly interesting.

You stare at the screen but you’re not focusing on it. You’re more focused on Niall just a couple feet away from you.

During a celebration after the first tour, where you’d all indulged a bit with some drinks, you’d let slip about your family and your reluctance when it comes to physical affection. They listened and then made it a goal to help you be more comfortable with hugs, and hand holding, and all kinds of friendly contact.

And it was nice. You’d always known that babies could be touch deprived, but you’d learned that adults can be starved for human touch as well. There was no doubt that you fell into this category, so getting random bouts of touch and affection from your band members had been healing in a way.

But lately things have been so crazy that everyone has been focusing on themselves. Plus you’re older now, not the teens that you were when you started the band. As people in your early twenties, the casual physical affection has dwindled.

The boys seem to be coping with this, as though they haven’t even realized that the group hugs and cuddle piles have stopped. But you’ve noticed. And you’ll be the first to admit that you miss it.

Now especially, with all this stress and disappointment weighing you down, you can’t help but desire a hug, one so tight that you can just burrow into one of the boys for a little while and feel safe and loved.

But even though Niall is right there, you can’t bring yourself to ask. You can’t even move closer and get rid of the space between you. Because it was always the boys initiating the contact. You’re nervous to try, terrified that you might get rejected.

Niall can tell something is going on with you, but he’s not sure what. He’s never been the best at navigating other people’s emotions so he calls in backup by sending a text to Harry who arrives a little bit later. He brings lunch with him, and you’re grateful for that since you’ve barely eaten all day.

The three of you sit together at the table to eat. The food is good, and you’re grateful that Niall and Harry are talking to each other because you don’t have much to add right now. You don’t realize the way they’re watching you, communicating their worry through pointed looks.

When lunch is done you all head back to the bed and put on a movie. You’re sitting against the headboard, Niall on your left and Harry on your right. And somehow, they’re still not touching you. At this point you’d take a brush of their arm against yours. Anything to help you feel less alone. And yet, you can’t bring yourself to lean closer to either of them. It’s maddening.

“Y/N,” Harry says, catching your attention.

“Yea?”

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing,” you reply, not even sure why you’re lying to him.

“We know something is bothering you,” Niall adds.

You take a breath before spilling everything that’s been going on. They listen and reassure you and while you do feel better after talking with them, there’s still that part of you that’s so on edge.

“What do you need?” Harry asks.

You think about it for a moment and say, “What I need is for people to stop judging me.”

“That’s a fair point. But I want to know what you need right now. From us.” Harry says.

The thing is, he knows the answer. He’s already aware of what would make you feel better. But he wants you to say it. He wants you to be comfortable to voice your needs with him and the other boys.

Finally you blurt out, “I just need a hug.”

“That’s not it,” Harry says.

Now you’re confused. It’s what you want. You tapped into all your bravery to even say that. And now he’s telling you that’s not right?

“You want something more than that. Need something more than that,” he adds.

You think about it for a moment and you realize that he’s right. A little hug isn’t going to cut it.

“I need someone to hold me,” you say quietly. “I need to be held.”

Neither boy hesitates now, and you end up tucking into Harry's side with Niall wrapping around you. They hold you tight, hands gently rubbing your back or arms to soothe you.

It’s not often that you allow yourself to cry, but you do now. You heave out a sob and feel their arms tighten around you. They stay like that until your sobs turn into tears before finally drying up.

“Thank you,” you say quietly once you’ve calmed down fully.

“Of course, YN,” Niall says. “We’re always here for you. Whatever you need.”

“We’re in this together,” Harry adds. “And we take care of each other. Always.”

Their kindness, and comfort has you feeling so much better, but you remain in their hold just a bit longer. It feels so nice to have this type of physical contact after so long without it.

The three of you eventually get cleaned up and join the rest of the boys for dinner. You end the day feeling so much better than you did at the start, and you know it’s thanks to these boys you call family.

But despite how nice it felt to be held, thoughts of doubt and embarrassment fill your mind in the weeks that follow. When you look back at that afternoon you first think about how good it felt. And then you begin to feel weak that you even needed to be babied in the first place.

You vow to be stronger in the future and not ask for that again. They have their own things, they don’t need to be taking care of you too. At least, that’s what your parents had always said.

Tour continues, and one night you all have to stay at the venue for a while after the show. Security said something about it being unsafe to travel just yet, but you were too tired to listen to the details.

After more than an hour of hanging out backstage you finally get the all clear to head out. But in that time you’d practically fallen asleep on the sofa. You have zero desire to get up so you sleepily raise your arms and look at Liam who’s standing before you and say, “Carry me.”

He chuckles, and a sweet smile appears on his face. Without even saying a word he leans down and slides an arm behind your back, the other under your knees to scoop you up bridal style. You sling one arm around his neck and hold on as he adjusts his grip to make sure you are secure.

Once back on the bus he tucks you in, straightening your extra blanket and placing your stuffed cat in your arms. He runs a gentle hand through your hair until you fall asleep, once again feeling so safe and loved.

A couple weeks later your period hits, and for some reason this month is especially bad. It’s day two of non stop cramps, and as much as you try to keep this a secret from the boys, they always know when you’re feeling particularly bad.

Louis is the one to find you curled up on the couch. He brings chocolate, pain relievers, and some tea that’s supposed to help. You’d never heard of it before, but apparently his sisters swear by it.

When nothing helps right away he lays down with you. His hand goes to your stomach and begins to rub, somehow soothing more than just the pain. Once your cramps finally go away you turn so that you're facing Louis. You tuck your head under his chin and he puts his arm around your waist to keep you close.

It should be strange, being so close to him. But it just feels right, just like it does with the other boys. You let yourself enjoy the comfort as Louis’ hand rubs gentle circles on your back.

Not only are your cramps gone, but the feelings of sadness and anxiety that usually come with your period are gone too, all thanks to Louis’ compassion and gentleness.

A few days later you're sleeping in your bunk when a nightmare hits. It’s one that you used to get all the time, but now only comes when you’re extra exhausted or stressed. And with it being the last couple weeks of tour, you’re both of those things.

You wake up gasping, adrenaline coursing through your body. You hoped that you were quiet and didn’t wake anyone else, but a moment later Zayn appears and asks if you’re alright.

“I’m fine,” you reply. “Just a dream. I’m good now.”

But of course these boys can read you like a book. And Zayn immediately knows you’re not fine.

“Scooch over,” he says, and you listen. As soon as there’s room he climbs in the bunk with you. He lays on his back and pulls you so your head is resting on his chest.

You get comfy but you can’t help but feel bad. These bunks are small, uncomfortable for just one person. Definitely cramped with two.

“You don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine,” you say.

“Nonsense. No one should be alone when they don’t have to,” he replies.

You can't argue with that. The two of you hold each other close and fall into a peaceful sleep. He’s still there when you wake up in the morning and you snuggle closer, taking advantage of his comforting touch.

When tour ends you’re a weird mixture of relieved and sad. It had been exhausting, but so wonderful.

And you have to admit to yourself that you’re going to miss the boys. It’s only a couple of weeks apart before you come back together, but you’ll be back home with your family during that time.

And you’re realizing that they’re not really family to you.

Zayn, Niall, Louis, Liam, and Harry are your family. They care for you in ways your own parents never did. And you’re going to miss that while you’re all back home.

The boys know how you feel about going to stay with your family. That’s why they plan a night in rather than going out to party. You have some drinks and pizza, and spend the evening reminiscing about the past months you had together.

The later it gets, the more glum you feel. You know the goodbyes are coming soon, and that puts a damper on your mood.

Liam’s the first to notice how quiet you’ve gotten. He sits next to you on the couch and gently nudges you with his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

You don’t want to bring down the party, but you can’t ignore his pleading eyes so you reply, “I’m just going to miss you guys.”

He nods but continues to look at you, knowing there’s more to it. Sighing you add, “And you guys are so happy and so warm. At home everyone’s cold and distant.”

“What can we do to help?” He asks. A memory pops into your head. Another hotel room when you were feeling down. You know exactly what you need. And you’re no longer scared or embarrassed to ask for it.

“I need to be held,” you say.

“I think we can do that,” Liam says before once again picking you up and announcing, “Cuddle party on the bed!”

He gently tosses you onto the plush king bed and in no time you’re surrounded by your boys. That’s how the six of you sleep that night, all snuggled together in one big pile.

You’ve never before felt so safe, so loved. And you’ll forever be grateful for the opportunity you received that brought you close to these boys. Because they are the ones who taught you what love truly feels like.

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

AN: While I was working on this a butterfly landed next to me and stuck around for a while. Brought me a bit of peace.

To my readers, I hope you’re all doing okay, and if you need someone to talk to know that I’m here and willing to talk!

#harry styles x reader #louis tomlinson x reader #niall horan x reader #liam payne x reader #zayn malik x reader #one direction x reader #one direction fanfiction

478 notes · View notes

grandisknight · 1 month ago

Text

dots and dashes | sylus

summary: Sylus gives insight into one of the many languages he's well-versed in.

tags: nsfw (mdni), established relationship, afab!reader, banter, morse code, vibrator, sex toys, orgasm edging, f!orgasm, aftercare/morning after, gift giving, evol abilites (sylus' energy manipulation), a pinch of fluff

wc: 2.6k | ao3 | kinktober in deepspace masterlist

a/n: mildly inspired by one of his older text messages (affinity 37’s text message: deal)! also around his pre-debut, he had morse code in one of the teasers (official weibo post here) and i thought that was pretty neat so here we are ^_^)7

The leader of Onychinus kept a plethora of languages stored away under his sleeve. A man of multiple tongues and talents, you just wanted to know how to say one thing—anything, really.

Though, you didn’t think he’d take a silly comment in passing so seriously, and it landed you in his personal study the following evening. A rare day where your schedules aligned, Sylus took the opportunity to extend a warm welcome into the N109 Zone under the promise of a ‘lesson.’

Of all the languages, morse code was what he decided to reveal in his cards. A curious choice, to say the least, but it piqued your interest nevertheless. Cozied in one of the cushioned chairs, a beginner’s guide laid flat across the desk with your scribbled notes. Sylus’ chair was tucked to the side in observation, accompanying your lessons as a stand-in teacher of sorts.

Time passed in this way—he would offer a series of taps and drags with his fingers against the surface, and you would write them down. He was patient with you all throughout, solidifying the foundation for the alphabet before switching to small words and phrases.

A question that had been plaguing your mind since you arrived drifted into the air during a self-proclaimed break. “By the way, why do you know morse code?”

With a hand propping your chin, your gaze takes in his relaxed figure. Comfortably dressed in his light gray sweater, the detailed threads of silver patterns painted him in a softer aura that juxtaposed his usually formidable appearance. Rimless glass coveted the rubied gaze that would occasionally meet yours, though occupied in thought.

It was distracting, to say the least. A handsome distraction at its finest, though it doesn’t pull away from the message he quietly relayed to you.

A dot, two dashes. A series of dashes, another dot and some more followed. (.-- / --- / .-. / -.-)

Counting off the units that met the table in muted taps, you answer, “Work?”

“Good ear, sweetie.” Sylus nods, leaning back and adjusting the thin frames balancing atop his nose. “Sometimes, negotiations are better said without words.”

“That’s a thinly veiled way of saying threats, but sure,” you retort. He doesn’t deny your claims, rather letting out a small chuckle in acquiesce.

Sylus taps your forehead with his forefinger, amusement quirked in his brow. “You’ve seen the kind of talks and people I’ve dealt with. Who knows, you could use this in one of your little undercover missions too.”

His hands return to nestle in his lap, and it catches your eye then—a faint snap and swirl of black manifested into a box underneath his palm. Perfectly fitted and nearly hidden if it weren’t for the glimmering trim around the edges, and the fluttering crow feather swaying towards the floor.

“Curious, are we?” Sylus voices your thoughts, fingers drumming against the lid.

Two dashes and a dot, a couple more dots, another dash-dot and lasting dash. (--. / .. / ..-. / -)

“Gift,” you echo upon realization.

Your eyes wandered between his lap and the sparkling rubied gaze that honed his presence, reading between the lines. “Don’t tell me it’s another gun? Last time I checked, my Harrier 700 still works well.”

And the last thing you wanted to deal with was a run-in with customs, if that were the case—he’s already tried his luck before, and you weren’t counting on his luck index to grant a second chance.

“You’ve been taking good care of it, so there’s no need for a replacement,” Sylus says. He leans back, tapping a forefinger to his temple in thought. “I thought it would be nice to get you something for studying so diligently.”

It had your back straightening in attention—now you really had no idea what he could be hiding. Even so, a scowl sketched onto your face, wondering if you’ve walked into a trap. A dry chuckle parts his lips at your clear interest and adamant attempt to maintain a façade all the same.

“Sweetie, it’s all yours.”

“It’s not that simple though, is it?”

“Ah. You know me so well,” he muses. “As vigilant as ever.”

The box finds itself on the desk and his hands reach for your chair. They dance over the armrest before turning your full front towards him—where his cocked head and curled lips asked, “Let’s make a deal. How does that sound?”

“What’s the catch?” Your heart jumped into your throat, unsure of when the air became so… palpable. Damn him and his ridiculously handsome face, you couldn’t tell if it made this more bearable or stirred your senses further. “I might be willing to wager.”

“Relax, that’s one of the conditions.” His larger fingers swipe over one of yours, which had subconsciously curled into a fist. Gently, he coaxes your hand to open into his, soon neatly slotted and all encompassing with warmth. “You look nervous, and I haven’t done a thing.”

“I know.” Your shoulders relax when his thumb massages yours in a light stroke. “But you haven’t done anything yet,” you clarify.

“Which brings me to my second condition.” He brings it closer to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours when he presses a kiss to your knuckles. “A test, if you will. You pass if you manage to decode my sequence correctly.”

“My sequence,” you pause, catching the tail end of his proposal. “So there’s only one?”

“Why, do you want a whole pop quiz?” He snickers, a brow raised. “We’ll be stuck here all night if that’s the case.”

“Nevermind,” you shake your head, finding the prospect to be less than charming. One was more than enough to take on your plate.

You purse your lips then and poke in jest. “Are you doubting my academic prowess now?”

“I would’ve dismissed you entirely if I was,” Sylus points out, tugging your hand towards him.

It jerked you forward unexpectedly, though it seemed he was anticipating this—smooth swirls of red and black tangled around your body, gently placing you atop his expecting lap before softly dispersing. “There’s no doubt in my mind you’re as bright as they come,” he adds in honesty.

“What the—hey, now!” A flush ran across your cheeks at the newfound proximity.

Hips hovering above him, you nearly fell onto the fine meeting place between his thighs. You save yourself the embarrassment, reaching for the chair’s headrest to steady your shift. He allows you this much, your legs soon bracketing his own and enjoying the sight all the same.

You huffed, “Is this part necessary?”

“Par for the course, actually.” Sylus’ fingers ghost over your sides, before settling atop your thighs and his palms lying flat in a gentle caress. “You can always back out if you’re not game.”

An arrow to your pride dug into your heart at the mere offense. The competitive spirit that once laid dormant jerked into consciousness—absolutely not. “No, we’re on. Do your worst,” you raise in steadfast confidence. “I can take it.”

“Those are fighting words,” he says. The glint in his eyes was unmistakable, teetering on a fine line of fondness and scheme alike. “But I’ll hold you to it.”

—

So, maybe your confidence could only carry you so far.

Rather, it tumbled you into a predicament at the cost of your exposed cunt. His free hand lazily dimpled into the plush of your hip, simultaneously careful to keep you steady. No longer a comfortable chill, the study’s air swirled into a concoction of heat and burning salacity in every inhale.

“Sweetie,” Sylus purrs. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

It wasn’t for a lack of trying. The game of codes was the last thing on your mind when a fine man of caliber was perched beneath you, gracefully stringing you along and allowing you the same right.

Easily thrown out the window, especially so, when all inhibition was lost to his kneaded touches and peppered kisses. The smooth movements that treasured your skin with care, tugging your bottoms down just enough in the process and tenderly appreciating you throughout the heat of the moment. Even his hair stuck out in one direction to the next, unkempt from the field day your tugging fingers reshaped the silver stands into.

Be that as it may, you still groan, chest rising to catch your breath. Nails drag into planes of his firm shoulder blades, lightly leaving their mark. “It’s because you’re not playing fair, Sy.” If you had a nickel for every time you were close to crashing in his embrace from an impending climax, it would be two. While it’s not an impressive sum, both were earned in the past few minutes alone, under the direction of his cunning smile and newfound toy in hand.

To his kindness, he pulls the rounded head of the vibrator away from your clit—the once muffled hums rang out more clearly, whirring at the highest setting. It glistened to the naked eye, finely coated in a layer of your evident arousal.

“All is fair in love and war,” he says, unphased by the line of bait you failed to reel in. He leans forward to press a kiss into your temple, a sign of affection pairing with a gentle squeeze to your side. “Should I be nice and walk you through one last chance?”

Your hands trace the curves melting into his neck, grazing his nape in forewarning. “Thin ice, Onychinus head.”

“Alright,” he muses, though reveling at the added pressure that only spurs him further. “No need to get so formal with me.” The vibrator lowers in the same breath to meet your anticipating heat.

“Five letters. Ready?”

Your hips roll forward then, impatience losing its virtue if meant you could finally, finally seek some relief. “Was practically born ready, at this point.” And then, the first rhythm played out in three, gentle presses to where you needed it most.

Three dots. (...)

This was fine, you could handle this much.

A moment of pause soon sways into the vibrator sliding between skin, returning to the apex of your labia, and dipping once again.

A dash, added dot, and paired dashes thereafter. (-.--) “Still with me?” Sylus asks, taking in the sight of your eyes screwed in concentration. It was endearing, in some sense of the word, and his gaze lingered on your expression in intrigue.

Though grateful for the concern, you chide when your breath allows it. “Don’t stop, go all the way already.”

To stop halfway tested what little patience there was left in you. You raised your head to find his circles of crimson brimming with a fondness and undivided attention. All for you.

The grin he graces you with carries the same sentiments, newly tinted with mirth. “Whatever the boss wants.”

The humming returns without warning, and you jerk against the touch, gasping. A press and slide, following upwards once more in double succession.

Another dot, dash, and two dots in a row. (.-.. )

You were quickly beginning to piece together the puzzle he left you to solve, the audacity of it all.

Before you could admonish such revelations, you bite your tongue when he continues into the next piece. It was fleeting, but memorable—identical presses and a sinister slide, the buzzing toy greeting your entrance in slick abundance.

Two dots, and a dash. (..- )

“You’re not—” Your eyes grow wide at the newly placed prodding.

“Getting cold feet? A minute ago you wanted me to go all the way,” Sylus recalls with a click of his tongue. “It would be unlike you to stop right before the finish line, sweetie.”

You squirm against him, sensitive and incredibly aware of the coil threatening to unfurl. He takes notice, hand stilling in consideration.

“You can do it,” he croons, forehead to yours and capturing your fluttering gaze.

“Never said I couldn’t,” you say, a swallow sealing your determination.

Sylus smiles. “Last letter. Let's make it count.” The vibrator slips into your cunt, whirring against your walls in a sense of overwhelming ecstasy. He makes quick work of it all then, three generous thrusts of the wand disappearing almost entirely, save for his firm grip around the base.

Three final dots. (...)

It marks the end of his charades, and the beginning of your incandescent cries.

You came undone at last, release ebbing as a flurry of sounds shape themselves into your call. “Sylus, Sylus, Sylus.”

“That’s it, ride it out for me. You worked so hard to earn it, after all.” His nose brushes just beneath your jaw, a tender kiss in consolation to soothe your high.

He relaxes the toy out of your spent heat by the time your trembling thighs subsided, power shutting off and rolling onto the desk’s surface. A brief swirling of black and crimson manifests a small cloth into his hand, gently patting away the stickied outcome before it disperses in the same specks. His fingers rake along your sides, dragging the fabric of your bottoms into their proper place.

“Sylus.” You slump against his shoulder in recovery, bemoaning amidst the moment of calm clarity. “You are unbelievable. The damn answer was your name, of all things.” “And now you know how to call for me in code. Aren’t I generous?” The slight rumble of his chest supports the chuckle he lets out, deepened further when a curl of your fist smacks his shoulder in protest.

Endearment softens his tone as he draws circles into your back, taking the rolling punches. The other tangles his fingers against your temple, smoothing out the sides in thought. “I would say our lesson went well today.”

“One hell of a lesson,” you remark. Your breathing slows for a moment, listening to the drumming heart beneath your ear. His caresses were kind, lulling, attentive. A sense of peace, wholeheartedly yours and Sylus' alone.

Your gaze shifts towards the desk, when another piece of memory, well-decorated in its untouched trim, lies next to the toy. Forgotten, nearly—the gift. “By the way,” you murmur. “What’s in the box?” Whether it was out of laziness and unwilling to move from your warmth or pure convenience, Sylus waves his hand in summoning. Accepting the floating item midair, you were about to peel off the lid when he began to shift under you, interrupting your grand reveal.

“Hold on.”

With practiced ease, Sylus single-handedly cradles you to his chest and adeptly rises from the cushioned seat. No matter how many times he’s pulled it off in the past, it still leaves you breathless as if it were the first time.

You circle an arm around his neck, the other clutching the box with a huff, “I was about to do an unboxing, you know.”

“I know,” he confirms, and presses another kiss to your temple. “But you’re getting sleepy. Open it after a good night’s rest.”

A swirl of Evol pushes the doors open, his footsteps echoing down the hall and towards his sanctuary. Your mind willed to protest his attempt of procrastination, yet only a yawn pushed past your lips and proved his point.

Curling into his embrace, you faintly mumble into his neck, “I’m wide awake.”

“And the sun shines at midnight,” Sylus deadpans, unimpressed at your performance. “Don’t fight it. If you’re tired, then sleep. I’ll make sure the gift will be there when you wake up.” “You promise?”

“With my heart,” he says.

It was a simple response, yet the timbre of his words imbued security and affection all the same. As if he meant more than just ensuring your box was safe, swearing to something beyond your greater comprehension.

One blink lasted longer than the one prior, sweeping the thought and yourself away into soundless sleep. Another time, perhaps.

—

You would find out the following day that he stayed true to his word. In the quiet hums of the morning, a slumbering giant clung to your side, his breathing calm and unknowing you had finally peeled open the mysterious box.

A finely crafted jewel twinkled amidst padded velvet, a clasp secured on one end. Engravings inlaid in a series of familiar dots and dashes; you couldn't help but softly laugh, a finger tracing the pattern.

(-... . .-.. --- ...- . -..)

Beloved.

633 notes · View notes

oceantornadoo · 4 months ago

Text

ex husband price x f!reader

some drunkenness, heavy jealousy, this is a bit long

—

“another round!” you shouted to your new friends, smiling at the sounds of everyone cheering. you turned away and drunkenly maneuvered yourself to the crowded bartop, grin plastered on your face. you were so excited to go out with your new coworkers, people who didn’t know you were one year into your divorce and absolutely miserable. people who wouldn’t spew bullshit about moving on and exciting new chapter! or why did you guys break up in the first place? people who’d just let you be.

you pushed through to the front, raising your hand to signal the bartender. she looked poised to take your order, but the light in her eyes changed, a small smirk emerging as she tracked a figure who’d appeared next to you. “what can i get you, handsome?” you rolled your eyes, the alcohol bringing out emotions you normally hid in public. obviously, go her, but you really wanted to do these shots before going to the bathroom. “whiskey, neat.” you froze, shoulders bunching, heart beating, palms sweaty. you eagerly brushed your hands against your jeans, praying you had heard wrong. you turned away to sneak to the bathroom, but a hand shot out and grabbed your waist, pulling you into his side. “an’ a water for my wife.”

instinctively, you rolled your eyes at how the brows of the bartender shot up. it was always like this with him, people surprised he could be with you. one of the worst feelings in the world. “i’m fine, john.” you pushed at his hand, his viselike grip not budging from your waist. “you’re drunk.” you scoffed as he handed you your water. “that’s the point, john. to be drunk and have fun.” you’d said the last part a bit too harshly, covering your embarrassment by chugging your water. you still hadn’t dared to look at his face, too afraid of what you might see. you left the cup at the bar and turned away, determined to go back to your friends. he let you but kept his hand on your back, powerful strides mocking your slightly-more-sober ones. his presence always sobered you up, but you were determined not to let john stop your fun.

“hey guys! sorry, tender wouldn’t serve me, said i was too drunk.” you ended your quip with a grin, earning a similar one from your coworkers. “it’s fine! think i’m gonna head out soon, anyways.” said your favorite coworker, turning to you with a smirk. “looks like you caught yourself something interesting.” her eyes flicked up to john, his hand now settled on your hip, and then back to you. “he’s just my fuck buddy.” you stage whispered, loud enough so he could hear it. his hand tightened on your waist, the intended insult hitting its target. “love that for you, babe. be careful, he has a ring.” you looked down at the hand on your waist, at his ring he’d never taken enough, even when you left yours on that kitchen table. “it’s fake.” john was tugging you into his torso, the welcoming scent of cinnamon and whiskey settling you. “time t’ go, sweetheart.” you said your goodbyes to everyone, choosing to pick your battles and not fight with your ex-husband in front of a new group of friends. thankfully, most were too drunk to notice the menacing captain behind you. wordlessly, you made your way to the exit, eyes locked on the ground as john led you to his apartment, walking distance from the bar.

“always havin’ to take you home.” you could hear the grin in his voice since you were still too scared to look into his eyes. the walk was sobering you up, your steps becoming sure again. “well excuse me, price, but no one asked you to come out. don’t be a fucking gaslighter.” he sighed, hand rubbing up and down your spine as if to calm you. “don’t call me that.” he wasn’t about to tell you that he still tracked your location, still watched it for his nightly entertainment. how he had notifications for when you went to bars, just in case. “can call you whatever i want. we’re not legally bound anymore.” that one hurt, more than the fake ring comment. you could sense it in the air, how his hand had paused on your upper back, your delicate truce broken.

john was berating himself, unsure about you for the first time in his life. did you not feel the same connection he did, the same ache in your bones when he was away? he knew you were meant for each other, obviously, but this…he didn’t know what to do if he wasn’t bound to you anymore. “i’m sorry, john. i didn’t mean it.” your apology was quiet, words sacred in the dark of the night. you had moved a bit closer so his hand slid to your shoulder, moving up and down, cupping the back of your neck. “‘s ok, sweetheart. you’re still drunk.” you both didn’t acknowledge how even when you were drunk, your tongue and mind were always sharp and truthful. how he knew that because that’s how you met, drunk insults flying in the back of some pub five years ago.

you blinked and you were at his door, watching his back muscles move as he unlocked it. you took in the jeans, the untucked shirt, realizing he wasn’t as put together as you thought. like he had run out the moment he’d sense you become drunk, like some angelic protector. he guided you in as you both took off your shoes, eyes squinting at the sudden light of the lamp he’d turned on. finally, in the safety of his home, you had enough strength to make eye contact.

“john!” your eyes were suddenly filling with tears, voice breaking on the last syllable. fuck, he’d wanted to wait until at least the morning for this conversation, dread piling up like stones in his stomach. “‘s nothin’, baby. go have a shower.” you shook your head vehemently, dragging him to the sofa near the lamp, settling yourself in a straddle on his lap. “you’re hurt.” a tear was threatening to fall and he couldn’t bear it, one hand pushing you down on his lap while the other wiped it away. “just a bruise now. i’ll be ok.” you shook your head at the sight of the absolute shiner on his face, the print of a fist on his jaw. your hands were shaking as you lifted them closer, careful not to hurt him. “you didn’t tell me.” practically pouting, you couldn’t control where the sudden burst of emotion came from. your man was hurt and he still came for you, even if you hadn’t wanted him there. “didn’t want you to worry.” his other hand dropped down to your waist, pulling you closer, the seam of your jeans touching the seam of his own. “i always worry about you, even when i don’t want to.”

he was too old for this, the emotional push and pull draining him more and more every week. the way you still clearly cared for him but refused to get back together, to live under one roof. he didn’t need to remarry you anymore, just wanted you like this, his pliant sweetheart and her sharp tongue all to himself. "what if i want you to? want you to worry about me." you gave him a watery smile, tilting your head to look at him better. your eyes, wet and wide. your skin, sticky from the bar but smelling like his favorite perfume all the same. your chest, heaving with the effort of holding back your emotions, breasts threatening to spill out. and finally your legs, jeans stretched over thick thighs as they accommodated his own. fitting together like long lost puzzle pieces, always meant to find each other again. "what if we got it wrong, john? what if, what if it's all been for nothing?"

that had been your mantra for the past year. what if, what if. what if you had been able to weather his long absences better? what if he had said no to a mission every once in a while? what if he hadn't missed christmas and new years and valentine's day? what if you hadn't had to take that pregnancy test alone, hands trembling at the negative sign, emotions swirling like a tornado inside you? he was nuzzling you now, that favorite facial hair of yours scratching the side of your neck as he inhaled your scent. "go'on an' shower, baby. meet you in bed." your hand curled from his neck to his head, scratching his scalp. the low moan he gave you reverberated in your bones, settling some unknown question deep in your heart. "shower with me. i don't want to be away from you anymore." he kissed your collarbone once, twice, then pulled his head back to meet your eyes. "we're not doin' anythin'. you're drunk." you were already scrambling out of his lap once he didn't say no, tugging him into his much-too-small bathroom. "help me shower since im so incapacitated." you and that tongue were back. "alright cheeky."

you pulled the bathroom door closed, then turned to face him with a twinkle in your eyes. your shirt had a zip in the front, something that had been taunting him all night. slow like molasses, you dragged your hand from collarbone to chest to the top of the zipper, unzipping the shirt with a grin on your face. john was zeroed in on your chest as you took the shirt off, having been deprived of your naked body for months. "don't get shy on me, love. keep goin'" you turned backwards, shimmying out of your jeans, giving him a show of the lace underneath as you tugged it down after. "did you miss me?" your mask was slipping, a struggle to keep it up as john started undressing as well, showing off all the muscle he'd maintained, even more after the divorce. he might have been preparing for this moment, who's to say. "more than words can say, love. c'mere."

he tugged you into the shower, turning on the shower. it sprayed out cold water and you slapped his chest with a yelp. "give me a warning, john!" he chuckling, kissing the back of your neck as he turned you to face the spray head on. "tha's for all the trouble you caused tonight, duckie. gave me a right headache." he hadn't called you duckie in years, some half-baked inside joke you'd both made one late night. "you're insane. only one who caused trouble was you." he hummed a non-reply, too busy reaching over your shoulder to grab the makeup remover in your favorite brand. his hands ghosted over your waist, turning you around so he could clean off the mess on your face. you closed your eyes on instinct, john's hands unbelievably soft on your face, treating you like some precious thing. he switched to body wash, taking his time with your shoulders, breasts, stomach, cunt, thighs. never doing anything suggestive, only acting with absolute reverence.

john had almost forgotten how magnetic your body could be, how pliant you were when he touched you. the sight of healed scars, stretch marks, moles, birthmarks - all made a constellation of perfections on your skin. he nosed at your cunt on instinct, inhaling his favorite scent in the world before tugging himself back. still drunk, old man. don't fuck this up. he turned you back around to wash everything off, making sure all suds were gone before turning off. your eyes were still closed, your silent compliance palpable. he finally gave you the kiss he'd been yearning for, hands coming to cup your face as his naked body enveloped your own in the steam filled room. you moaned at the feeling of him, wrapping your arms around his thick neck. you bit his bottom lip just to make sure it was real, it was him, that he still liked how you kissed. he answered you with a moan. john's strong hands lifted you up around him, opening his eyes only to maneuver you both out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, laying you on top of the sheets, wet and wonderous.

“john, i need you.” you practically whined, hungry at the sight of him laying you down on his bed. “not fuckin’, love.” you pouted, reaching for his shoulders. he came down easy, tucking you into him. “i’ve been miserable without you. and i hate you for it. but i want you so badly.” the truths were bitter on your tongue, coaxed out by the safety of being in john’s arms. “never lettin’ you leave again, sweetheart. with or without my ring, you’re mine.” he punctuated his words with kisses to your shoulder, your neck, your collarbone. without my ring might have been a lie, but what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you. “will you sleep with me?” he nodded against you, possessiveness placated by the need in your voice. john pulled out of your arms, ignoring your whines, and messed around in his dresser, pulling out boxers for himself and a shirt for you. he pulled you up gently, pushing the shirt over your head with practiced ease. “c’mon.”

when you opened your eyes again, you were on top of john under the mostly-dry covers. one leg draped across his lower half with an arm on his chest, your head on his heartbeat. “this doesn’t mean all is forgiven.” he hummed something unintelligible. “and i’m not running to the courthouse with you tomorrow.” he chuckled at that. “sure, lovie. whatever you want.” you sniffed. “one more thing. i know you track my location. you can’t come bursting out of the woodwork whenever im having fun.” well that wasn’t happening, but he let you believe it. “time t’ sleep, duck.” he turned off the light, drowning you in peaceful dark. “‘m glad you’re back here.” here, in his arms. here, in his space. here, in his heart where you constantly lived. “me too, john.”

and when you woke up the next morning with your wedding ring slid back on your finger, well, you pretended to throw a bit of a fit, biting back a smile the whole time.

#price headcanons #price imagine #tornadothoughts #john price x f!reader #captain johnathan price #john price x female reader #captain john price #cod price #john price #captain price #john price x reader #captain price x reader #price #price x reader #john price x you #john price x y/n

464 notes · View notes

livelaughlovesubs · 1 month ago

Text

~ 06.10 - Boothill ~

Dom!reader x sub!boothill - reader is gender neutral

Warning: a little dark, dubcon, sadistic (?) reader, first time (doing smt sexual), finger sucking, gun play, teasing, dacryphilia, dry orgasm, cumming untouched, hair pulling, use of chemicals, choking, violence, vomiting, kidnapping

~ Word count: 7k ~

Nini!rant: went for a slightly different vibe this time~ how is it?

Kinktober list 2024

“Hah, another fake galaxy ranger? Who’s tryna impersonating us this time?” Boothill lowered his hat to hide his face while he stared at a wanted poster. Still clean, it must be a new commission. At first, he only wanted to check his own bounty, when he noticed another one right next to his.

‘Galaxy ranger […….], wanted, dead or alive, bounty [1.380.000]’

Consider him surprised when he didn’t recognize the name or the face. Him, the one who owns a data bank to support his memories. It could only mean that it’s an imposter. Having a fake ranger’s wanted poster hung right next to his is pretty humiliating, are they looking down on him? “This might be interesting.” The cowboy smirked to himself, yanking off the poster from the wall while he continued his pursuit.

This was going to be a side job, to yearn some cash for his good ol’ alcohol: Asdana’s white oak, about 6% alcohol and fragrant like the fields after rain. A classic among the malts. Pair that with a bullet to match and consider yourself drinking the holy water from the garden of Eve. The bass and gunpowder will bring an exquisite taste only folks with fine tongues can taste. If he had to give a deeper description, the word mellowness would match mighty fine.

Just thinking about the taste raised his spirits. Since he was going to catch you soon and get compensated big, it wouldn’t hurt to celebrate like this once in a while. Don't get him wrong, this isn't indulging, it's enjoying life. Which is why he was standing in front of a bustling bar, his favorite one. The minute he walked in, he felt his mind be at ease, like a ship with smooth sailing. Everything stayed as cozily as he remembered, the same old barkeeper, music, and seats. As if this was his second home, he popped down right next to the counter and put his arm up onto the bar table.

“Boss, here! The usual for me, you know, the lit stuff.” Boothill smirked, his other hand was tapping his knee slowly. “It’s you again, one Asdana without ice?” The man behind the counter seems to remember that very cowboy, as well as his usual order. To that boothill answered, “Of course, I take my Asdana neat.” Then the barkeeper nodded, as if to acknowledge it, commenting, "You are as lively as ever, sir." Before walking off to get the bottle.

Lively? Huh, it's not a word he'd use to describe himself, but it isn't bad. No, not bad at all. In the meantime the cyborg looked around the establishment, seeing many new and old faces that bring back memories. Among those, there was a single shadow that intrigued him. It was the person sitting next to him.

You were there already when he came, sipping away at your drink as your eyes darted around aimlessly. A cocktail of some kind, fading from black to red. If he had to guess, probably hangman’s blood? One of the specialties of this bar, he knows the owner is proud of that drink. It’s pretty strong, you must be good at dealing with alcohol. Maybe you'd be a splendid drinking buddy, he thought to himself, grinning from ear to ear. Meeting new people and making connections never hurts anyone.

Suddenly he moved his chair closer to yours, opening his mouth and attempting to strike up a conversation with you. “Hey, you there, I haven’t seen ya’ around here. This your first time here?” He tried his best to give you a gentle smile, that ended up with him showing off his sharp teeth. For some, he might have appeared threatening even. “...Yeah, it is. I heard that the drinks here are excellent, which is why they have so many regulars.” You stirred around in your glass, mixing the two colors.

“That’s right, you see, I consider myself a regular too.” Boothill chuckled, by the looks of it, he was quite proud of that title. “Oh right, name’s boothill, you can call me that. How ‘bout we drink a lil’ together?” He smirked, it was still a rather awkward smile. Though luckily you didn’t seem to mind. “Boothill huh? I’ve heard that name around, you are notorious for your misdeeds against the IPC.” You turned around to face him, returning his gesture by smiling as well.

At least he thinks you did, since he saw your face twitch. However, he couldn’t see it clearly due to the effects of the lighting. That was why you looked like a shadow from afar. The cyborg scoffed a bit, appearing amused by your words, “misdeeds you say? Cutie, my actions may not be innocent but I only do honest work.” A low chuckle reached his ears, followed by your response to his rather playful comment, “Of course, I understand. You galaxy rangers are brimming with righteousness after all.”

For some reason, your voice was as clear as day, despite the bustling noises emerging from the background. Many people were talking among themselves, so despite you not speaking especially loud, he still heard you perfectly. It was almost as if he filtered the other sounds out for yours only. At first glance, you seemed friendly, kind even. Yet there was this strange feeling surrounding you, he couldn’t get rid of the lingering suspicions. How did you know his occupation? Sure, his name was pretty infamous, though was it normal to know this much?

“…I guess the number on my bounty isn’t just for show.” He joked, before letting out some breathy laughs. Instead of paying attention to his words, you stared at his hand, each finger was out of metal. A artificial arm, or to be precise, a cyborg. Nothing you didn’t know. Suddenly you raised your finger, pointing in his direction. Boothill frowned a little, taken aback by it. “Your drink, it’s coming.” After a moment you explained, and he turned his head around.

Who would have guessed, you were right, the bartender was just putting down the liquor as he chirped, “One Asdana?” Before winking at the male and leaving the two of you alone. “Ah, yeah, that's for me.” The cowboy mumbled, about to take the old-fashioned glass when you stopped him. “Wait a second, I have something for you.” The moment your sentence ended, you began fumbling with your bag, apparently searching for something.

He was a bit irritated but listened to you anyway, taking his hand back. Waiting like this was a tiny bit annoying, but he put up with it. About a minute later, you were holding a shiny object in your hand. Without giving him any warnings, you dropped the said object into his drink. The beverage splashed against the glass due to the impact, only a single drop landed outside before the liquid calmed down.

Now, a bullet was slowly sinking to the bottom of the glass. Its color matched his drink, it had a golden gleam. “Holy forkeroni…” He gasped, this bullet, it was- “9 millimeters caliber, 147 grain, and the bottom's round as a pie. An eternal classical, am I right?” After explaining something obvious to him, you finally showed your face by leaning forward. The lightbulb brightened your features, exposing your identity to the cowboy. A daring move, a risky gamble with cards not everyone would have played. You stared right into his black pupils without a hint of fear, and his response to your boldness was as expected. “This information, you are...!” Immediately, the cyborg grabbed you by your collar and yelled, “Son of a nice lady- you are the one from that wanted poster! The fake galaxy ranger!” He shook his head, then demanded, “Fudge me… don’t fork around and answer, how do you know so much about me?” What a serious tone he had, he must be feeling threatened.

Your eyes darted down to his metallic hand, the same one you were eyeing up and down earlier was now clenching your shirt. Instead of taking him seriously, you were calm and collected, taking one step after another. Seeing you so relaxed, he felt a hint of anger building within him and used more force. It was almost enough to lift you off your seat. Gosh, look how much contempt he suddenly has for you when he was so nice to you mere moments ago.

“Please don’t cause a scene, sir boothill, I was only being nice by catering your drink to your taste. What's the problem?” You cooed at him like he was a child throwing a tantrum, playing the naive card. This playful tone of yours reminded him awfully of his own, yet at that moment it annoyed him. “You are dodging my question.” He stressed his words, furrowing his brows and tightening his grip. But he jerked a little when you clasped your hand over his, your touch was warm in comparison to his.

Then you spoke in a calm tone, “Shall we take this outside? There are many watching eyes here. I believe you wouldn’t want to get banned from your favorite bar.” The way you talked suggested you knew much more, a lot more than what he does about you. After all, you knew some private details about his preferences and hobbies. In conclusion, you must have been waiting for him here, at this very bar.

Boothill still hesitated for a moment, before eventually letting go of you. He clicked his tongue as if he regretted your meeting today. In truth, he wasn't in the mood for a fight, despite everything he came here to have fun. Your clothes were now wrinkled and slightly messy, disheveled would also be a fitting term, but you didn’t really bother with straightening them out, rather, you were amused by his hot temper. The boy thought about the situation and the problem he was facing. He couldn't read you at all, what a tough nut to crack.

It would be smart to sort out his thoughts, so first things first, he has to find out how you obtained all this information about him. What was your deal and reason? Then he should think about how to clean up this chaos in case it becomes messy. Even so, startling the other guests wouldn’t be good, that’s why he should contain himself for now. “Fine, lead the way, and don’t try to pull any funny business with me.” He clasped his arms in front of his chest, glaring at you with nothing but contempt. To be honest he looked like a cheeky cat instead of a dangerous lion.

“Don’t look at me like I’m some kind of criminal~” You jest, grinning from ear to ear as you sipped at your cocktail. “Oh yeah? Why do you have quite the sum on your head then.” The cowboy countered your statement, squinting his eyes a little. To think you lost his trust this fast, he was a cautious fellow. “Haha, you hurt me. Don’t you have a bounty on your head as well? If so, why can’t I be righteous too?” He shuddered a little at your words, by the looks of it, you could also be a crazy stalker who invaded his privacy. Heck, he would almost bet on you knowing his head's value in and out.

At this point your voice alone was enough to scratch him the wrong way, you were really testing his patience. Boothill dismissed your statement with a groan, “Don’t compare us, I’m not a motherfudgin' fake ranger like you.” You blinked a few times at his words, before laughing out loud. He didn't like how you reacted. “Ahaha~ yes yes, of course, I’m the bad guy in your story, how did I forget this detail?” You blabbered, and he didn't really understand what you meant.

Then, without giving him any time to process what you said, you sprang up from your seat but made sure to take your cocktail with you. “Come now, cowboy. Take your drink with you, can’t leave that to waste right? Let’s continue drinking outside, like real drinking buddies.” That last sentence, he hasn't asked you yet, that means you guessed by his actions alone. Was it that obvious? It almost felt like you were taunting him or making fun of his previous idea of befriending you.

To save some of his pride, he decided to entertain your little chitchat. “Take it with me? I don’t think I’ll need that long to deal with the likes of you.” He sneered, a cheeky expression was plastered on his face now. You scanned him up and down a few times, then said, “If I can give you one advice: you’ll regret it if you don’t.” Shortly after, you walked out of the store, not giving a damn if he followed you or not. It was because you knew he wouldn’t let you escape so easily, and as you predicted, he followed you to the back of the bar. His footsteps were rather silent for a cyborg, he must not want to involve other guests.

The environment was filthy and dark, as well as out of the sight of innocent civilians. Perfect for an ambush or to have a private talk. You took another sip of your drink and complimented it, “Heavens, have I told you already? This tastes great. Wanna try some?” This sudden courtesy didn't seem fitting at all, considering he already lost all trust he had for you. His eyes pointed to your hand, the hand holding the glass in front of him. Instead of taking it, he clanked his own glass against yours, saying “No need, and cheers. Now that we are drinking, it’s time for you to start talking.” After finishing his speech, he drank his much-anticipated beverage.

This was what he missed, the sweet taste of paradise. No matter how he hated to admit it, the bullet you put in was just the stuff he needed. The faint taste of brass and gunpowder partnered up with the overwhelming sweetness of the malt juice was simply magnificent. “Ehem.. now,” He began, putting the drink onto the staircase next to him. It was the emergency staircase in case of a fire, yet it looked rusty as hell. Still, it won’t crash down because of one measly drink, will it?

This was something he had noticed for a while, somehow, he always found your gaze on his hands. The same applied here when he was putting his malt juice away. Was it worth being careful about? Boothill sighed, before continuing, “Tell me, what is your purpose? You were looking for me, weren’t ya?” Straight to the point, as expected of an ill-mannered cowboy like him, but you didn’t dislike it. “If I told you, this won’t be fun anymore. The villain always shares their plan when the hero is subdued.” You gurgled down the last bits of your ‘hangman’s blood’, then put the glass on the ground, unlike him. Would you look at that, who has no manners now?

Afterward, you walked up to the man, and his response to it was taking a few steps back. It wasn’t until his back hit the wall that the two of you stopped in your tracks. “Shirtbag… do you want to imitate a cartoon villain that bad?” He scoffed, crossing his arms once again. “Hehe, maybe.” You smiled at him providing him with a vague answer. Fork it, he was definitely going to wipe that insolent grin of yours from your face. “Anyway, before things escalate and you hit me, how about a quick introduction? My name is y/n.” The ranger didn’t look happy at all at your suggestion, and so he snapped, “I know, I saw on the poster. Can you stop wasting my free time now?”

“Whoa, easy there. And hey! Don’t pull your gun out!” You said and raised your hands as if to testify to your cooperation, then spouted “Well, I don’t know what information I own that could possibly satisfy you.” Now you were really wasting his time, chatting with no end in sight. Obviously, you were playing dumb with him. This caused Boothill to shout almost angrily, “Just tell me what business you have with me, fudgehead!” His rather funny way of talking didn't shock you, which means this was another piece of information you had access to beforehand. Who was feeding you with all that info?

He reached out for your collar again, but to his surprise, he couldn't move his arm anymore. “What the fork?!” His eyes turned to look up at you, his soft lips were parted due to disbelief. “Thankfully it worked~ otherwise I’d be cheese by now!” You joked, taking another step forwards him. “Holy wubabboo- is this your doing?” A confused expression spread on your face and you questioned, “Did what?” What the- what was happening, he couldn't comprehend this darned situation.

“How did you pull this off-? UrGhh!!” Out of nowhere, he dropped down to his knees, hovering and kneeling on the ground while sweating furiously. There was no strength left in his legs, or he lost control of his limbs somehow. On the outside he looked like a robot out of power, arms dangling next to him all lifeless. “Fudge! Tell me! What did you do?!” This has to be your doing, the timing is too perfect. You scanned his body again, smirking to yourself. "I had to prepare a lot for this, you know."

His ears perked at your confession, were you finally getting bored of that clueless act? Your face was barely visible since the alley wasn’t very bright, there was only one dimly lit street lamp around the corner. “You were easier to catch than I thought.” You then uttered. What the hell is this! That was supposed to be his line, so how did things end up this way? He is a motherfudging cyborg, what could you have possibly done to him?

The word confusion was basically written all over his face, he couldn’t even curse at you because he was so baffled, so perplexed about basically everything. Then, you raised your foot and stepped down on his shoulder. He turned his head to the side just to be faced with your shoe, the soles dirtied his cropped jacket.

“Get off me, you son of a nice fugin' lady.” Boothill gritted his teeth, trying to push you away. But the word in capital letter and underlined was 'trying', since he couldn’t move at all. He felt as helpless as the day he lost his home, unable to do anything but watch from the sidelines. “I like that feisty look in your eyes, cowboy.” You teased, those stinging words hurting his ego. Suddenly you leaned down, all so you could meet his gaze more easily.

Your hands reached for the glass of malt juice standing on the staircase and held it above his face. It shone in a golden light, almost akin to a disco ball. His eyes were glued to that glass, partly because he wondered what you planned to do. “Here, as I said before, this shouldn’t go to waste.” You told him and grabbed his chin. It happened so suddenly that he couldn’t react to it, not like he could have done anything in self-defense anyway. “Ugh, let go you mother- fuuHHMM!!”

When he opened his mouth to curse and to let out a shocked yelp, you forcefully poured the drink down his throat. It streamed down his oesophagus. You had to admit, he had good reflexes for reacting to this so quickly. Some of the liquid landed on his lips or cheeks, but he drank most of the juice. You watched the remains that weren't swallowed drip down his chin, soiling his clothes further and creating a darker spot on the fabric. It also covered his metallic chest in a golden shine, one could easily confuse it with oil.

The cyborg closed his eyes to avoid the liquor getting in places it shouldn’t, he choked a little since you were pouring so fast he couldn’t keep up with the swallowing. This didn’t stop until the glass was empty, even the bullet you gifted him earlier ended up in his mouth. He let it rest on his tongue for a while, before gulping it down as well. “Mmmh, guhh- cough cough!”

Boothill gasped, the bullet didn’t roll in as easily as the malt juice, it remained stuck in his throat. He had to cough a few times for it to slide down, after that he instantly complained, “Fu-fudge... why did you do that? I wanted to enjoy my drink slowly!” But he stopped mid-track when your familiar laugh echoed in his ears, and your fingertips stroked his chin. Shivers ran down his spine at your touch, he didn't know why.

“Dear ranger~ did your mommy not teach you not to take things from a stranger?” His eyes twitched and widened, you couldn’t really grasp the expression he pulled, though he looked devastated. It seems a light switch clicked inside his thick skull. Did you mess with his drink? Boothill just couldn't keep calm anymore at the realization, glaring at you with a nasty attitude. “Oh my, did I hit a sore spot there? You look like you want to kill me.” Yet his threatening, imposing body language didn’t scare you off, which is why you continued ridiculing him.

“I’ll ask you a last time, what the fork did you do to me?" Despite all these misfortunes, he didn't give up his insolent side, he was planning on giving you a hard time until the very end. Boothill was showing his sharp teeth once again, but this time he wasn’t smiling. “Are you familiar with Sulfuric acid?” You uttered, tapping his lips with your thumb. That word was foreign to him, was it something he would know? He wanted to bite down on his bottom lip, but you stopped him. This feeling, it was latex, you were wearing gloves.

“You see, it’s potent enough to melt metal.” The expression that followed after you enlightened him of its importance was simply amazing, you were curious about what he felt in that moment. Shock? Anger? Frustration? Maybe even self-hatred? “Then, how did you-” “Hey, I wasn’t done talking. Anyway, to answer your question, I hid it inside the bullet. Then I just had to wait for it to melt through the brass and voila, need me to say more?” What a talent you have for spouting such horrendous things with an innocent tone.

“Everything’s going according to your plan, huh, explaining everything when the hero’s subdued.” He repeated your words, then coughed again because his throat was burning. Actually, it hurt and itched. His face also felt like it was on fire, or to be precise, his skin did. It was so painful he had to clench his teeth to suppress the pain. You laughed under your breath, laughing at him, mocking him. “Right, if it’s potent enough to inflict wounds on a cyborg, then of course it irritates the skin as well.” Well, that should explain why his skin was hurting. “Now, boothill, may I give you another advice?”

Your hand caressed his cheeks as you asked him that, face only millimetres away from his. The way you touched him was surprisingly gentle, it made him sick. “What do you want.” He scorned, shaking his head to brush off your hand. “I’m sure you have extra protection around the more important components inside your system, though you should still get rid of the acid.” You looked unfazed when he avoided your touch, instead you closed the already nonexistent distance between you two and whispered into his ear.

The male looked mad, really damn angry. He yelled into your face, “Well fudge me I guess?! I can’t forking move my body!” That caught you off guard, you blinked a few times at his aggressive behavior. Don't get you wrong, it's not that you didn’t understand his point of view. On the contrary, it's good to see him still so energetic. “Ah~ my bad, I didn’t think the acid would break your control Center first. Why is it located right next to your stomach anyway?” You admitted, scratching your head a little.

This was so easy that it was almost boring, you expected him to put up more of a fight. But you can't blame him when he's basically a cripple right now. “In other words, I’m fudged? Fork this, dying so dishonorable tsk tsk.” Boothill snarled, rolling his eyes, he didn’t consider himself a living man before, but now he was dead-dead if you knew what he meant.

You glanced at his face, he was sweating and his complexion didn’t look all that good. He acted as if he didn't mind it, but he was hanging onto life so dearly it almost moved you. In the end, you proposed in a tender tone, “Want me to help you?” The ranger was still glaring at you, though his gaze bore more skeptic than fury. “You caused this first- fine, I don’t have any choice but to accept do I?”

No matter how he despised you, he can't carry out revenge when he's dead. It's not that he trusted you to 'save' him, but rather, this is his last resort. As soon as he finished his sentence, you yanked on his chin to make him look up at you. The tips of his hair were wet due to the alcohol, and his skin also reddened due to the acid. Your thumb pressed on his bottom lip, almost pulling at it. A faint blush crept onto his cheeks at the intimate touch. Adorable.

When he parted his lips a little, you took that opportunity to stuff your index and middle finger into his mouth. “What- Mhm..!?” The male groaned, finding himself in a pretty bizarre situation. God how embarrassing, he was falling into a shameful abyss he couldn't crawl out anymore. Truth be told, he had a pretty accurate guess on what you wanted to do, though he really didn’t want to actually carry it out. Was this the only way?

You stuck your digits deeper inside, already at the second knuckle, causing him to flinch and twitch. His eyes were tightly shut, brows furrowed while a growing blush covered his features. Damn it, this is worse than any nightmares, this feels the worst. So what was this bubbling and tingly sensation he felt? It was messing with him, causing him to shudder. He could feel your fingers pressing down on his tongue, as well as you trying to not cut yourself on his teeth. This was weird, it was so strange, why was he getting lightheaded?

“Don’t act so surprised now, I’m helping you as you wanted.” After watching his helpless face for a while, you commented on it, obviously not planning on stopping the teasing anytime soon. It seems you caught on to the growing tension between the two of you, so you chuckled, “Hey... what’s this I'm seeing? Why is your face getting red?” His once half-lidded eyes were yanked wide open at the thought that he got exposed.

Don't tell him he was enjoying this perverted act. “Hmm! Sho-shou ap..!” Boothill tried to speak despite the difficulties, feeling your digits reaching deeper and deeper. With each poke, the tingly feeling also increased. Was this perhaps what they called sexual pleasure? If so, why did he have to experience it for the first time at your hands?

A few seconds later, you were knuckles-deep inside him, fingertips already rubbing the walls of his throat. It was wet and hot in his mouth, and his face seemed to be gradually heating as well. That process was speeding up quite rapidly. His cheeks quickly turned red, a foggy blush tainting the skin. He was blushing so much just from sucking on your fingers a little? You simply couldn’t miss out on ridiculing him yet again, purring into his ear once more, “Does this turn you on? How cute.”

His pupils shrank at your comment, probably at the disbelief that you’d say something this audacious. Him? Turned on by you? What a joke- this can’t be real. He was just having a hard time breathing, and that’s why he was getting red. Really. Though deep down, he knew he couldn't sugarcoat it, the truth will always be the truth, no matter how he denies its existence. “MhMm, guhNn, hmm-nggHh..!” The cowboy tried to argue with you, though his protests were muffled by you, only inaudible noises could be made out.

There were also sneaky moans mixed among his protests or little gasps. The vibrations of his voice tickled your skin, it felt pretty funny actually. “What was that? I can't understand you~” You admitted cheerfully, watching the emotion on his face rotate from shock, and anger to frustration. What a shameless person you were, and not to forget heartless.

Then you pressed down on his wet muscle once again, and he gagged around you. “Ughhh..!” That one single gag soon turned into a series of chokes, and tears began collecting in his eye sockets. So he still had his gag reflex, excellent, it was exactly what you needed. More coughs and chokes continuously spilled from the male while you mercilessly ravished his throat.

He could feel you poking his throat so deep it almost hurt, yet that wasn't the only thing he felt. No. Far from it, his body was burning up from the inside, though it was a different kind of heat than the effects of the acid. His mind felt so foggy and weakened, was it alright for him to let his guard down in times like this? When he still hasn't discovered your purpose? But he couldn't hang on anymore, it was as if his brain was melting. Never ever was it this challenging for him to hang on to his reason and logic, to what makes him human.

"Dahmmmm it..! S-stouu! GuhHGG..!!" He choked again, but this time, it felt like something was coming out... no, it was- "hmHHh, fooouukk!! Ugh-guUH!" This familiar sensation and taste, he couldn't move his tongue but he could still taste it faintly. Not to mention the burdensome smell, this familiar smell that stayed around his nostrils. The Asdana he just gurgled down was coming up again, he was on the verge of vomiting. It was as if his body rejected the drink, and he couldn't stop gagging.

At least his insides won't get messed up any longer, that must be the only positive thing in all this. Even so, to do something that shameful in front of you, damn it, he wants to spit at you if he could. You noticed how his throat tightened, or how his Adam's apple moved around. With that, you took your fingers out as fast as how you stuck them inside him. Strings of saliva connected your fingertips with his mouth, and his tongue hung outside for a while. "Ugh, fu-gUhg, UhmM!!"

Right afterward, he puked on the ground, head hanging low while more gaging sounds left him. His pupils shrunk as the contents spilled onto the filthy ground. Those embarrassing noises didn't cease until he choked up the bullet he had previously swallowed. Then, he whimpered at the taste, it had become sour now due to the chemical. "There you go, you should be fixed now." You reported, but he couldn't bring himself to be joyful about it.

Rather, he was sweating furiously, eyes widened and almost dried up. If he could cry, he definitely would have. Oh how thankful he was in that moment that he physically couldn't sob. He wouldn't have been able to live with the shame of breaking down in tears and weeping in front of you. "Uhhhhg, da-mHnn it... fu-uGGhh!!" The taste of the alcohol wasn't as pleasant as before, probably due to it getting corrupted by the acid you mentioned. Such a waste, and to think it landed on the floor now. A place like that wasn't worth a drink this exquisite.

His eyelids and brows twitched, and now that he was done, he clenched his teeth again and insulted you, "You muddlefudger..." That rebellious look in his gaze didn't vanish, he glared at you once more. You were almost impressed if you didn't notice a small glimmer of falter within his tough facade. Despite it being a normal bodily reaction, he seems to be holding it against you. "And here I thought I helped you out, how ungrateful." You clicked your tongue, and his face became redder. Was it because of the humiliation or anger?

Your shoe was still on his shoulder, pressing down on him, reminding him of his vulnerable position. The Cowboy snapped at you, spitting through gritted teeth, "What do ya' got planned now?" You took off your gloves, they were covered in his saliva. Then you revealed, "I'm not sure." He only got more annoyed by that nonchalant answer and demanded, "If you're going to kill me make it quick." Weirdly enough, your eyes glimmered, as if you were inspired by his suggestion. "If that's what you want, I don't mind it." You smirked, patting his head, stroking his long hair as your other hand sneakily pulled out the gun around his waist.

He almost lost himself in that small gesture of comfort you gave him, if it wasn't for him seeing you with his gun in your hand. "Hah.. with my own weapon? Fudge, you want to humiliate me to the end huh." How resentful he sounded, you almost pitied this guy. "Maybe I do." After saying that irritatingly proud, you pressed his revolver against his forehead, pushing his bangs to the side. "But this is a little boring, don't you think?"

As if you were truly interested in his opinion, he found it quite difficult to believe that. "Why do you ask me?" Boothill gnarled, but to his surprise, you moved the revolver away. Instead, the barrel was pressed flat against his chest, the muzzle facing his chin. "What are you..?" The male mumbled, twisting his expression at this damned play you organized for him. For you, all this must be a game, a stage you laid out for him, where he was a mindless puppet playing right into your hand.

He thought he couldn't be surprised anymore, yet your actions kept going beyond anything he could ever imagine. You moved the revolver upwards so that the muzzle was touching the underside of his chin. At the same time, the gun was going underneath his short jacket. "Y-you..!" The cyborg couldn't help but blush a little. His face was hot, overheating even compared to the cold weapon you held in your hands. "Do you still want to die? If you beg, I might spar you?" Your tone didn't sound that serious, it was almost said in a joking manner.

“Fork you, never." Boothill snarled again, acting disobedient even though his life was at stake. He had a strong spirit since he was still so cocky after all the things he went through. You wiped off the smile from your face, now staring down at him with a cold-blooded expression, "I'll count down from three then. Three..." Wha- no, this can't be the end, he still has to find Oswaldo. His artificial heart pounded against his chest, causing his mind to fall into chaos. "Two."

You were so cruel, counting down like this without remorse, a fudging monster! Adrenaline was being pumped through his body, or should he rather say every wire he owned? "One-" Without thinking, since he lost that privilege the moment you began counting, he yelled as fast as he could and closed his eyes, "Fudge! Fine! If m'gonna die lemme at least curse at you! You- er, muddlefudging clocksucker!!" Right now, he kind of wished he could cry, just to let out some steam. You couldn't help but giggle, before uttering the word, "Zero." Suddenly, he blanked out.

For a split second, time appeared to have stopped. What followed after was a loud, ear-splitting sound that echoed through the alley. To be expected, it definitely alarmed other people. Then, absolute silence emerged. Not even the faint music from the bar could be heard anymore. "Ah... hu-huh..?" "Oh? Seems like your gun wasn't loaded!" You giggled, you knew this from the start, didn't you? Pants along with a few choked-out whines escaped him. Shivers traveled through him and electricity was being sent to his brain, stimulating the euphoric parts.

A moment later, a slap sound reached his ears, and a sting that felt strangely pleasant originated from his cheek. His face turned to the side, and his cheek throbbed. "uh-urghh..! Ah, wha-what?" Did you just... slap him? Boothill groaned, shaking a little as drool rolled down his chin because his mouth remained open for too long. His spit also defiled the gun, wetting the revolver. Then, the unimaginable happened, and he let out an unrestrained moan, "ahhhHHHNngg..!?" It was high-pitched and whorish, he wore such a confused but slutty expression that it surprised both of you.

Reality crushed down on him too hard, and he couldn't help but gasp and whimper underneath his ragged inhales. "Ugh..ngh- wha-what's this fe-feeling..? W-why.. ha-hmnHg..♡♥︎?" Oh dear, this is not what you think just happened, right? "Boothill, did you just cum?" You said his name after a long while, and he groaned again, "guHhh... s-stop, that's nonsense! How can I e-even.. I-" The boy stumbled over his words, stuttering as a deep blush was painted over his entire face. He was such a twitchy mess now, totally different than his previous self.

“Are you a masochist?” You asked him randomly, it was so out of pocket that it killed the mood. "...are you crazy?" Boothill replied with scorn, his pride was pretty hurt by that statement. As if to test your speculation, you grabbed the back of his hair and yanked on it, making him yelp. "Arghh..! L-let go- fudge!" Then you squeezed his cheeks and stuck out your tongue. He stared at you hesitantly, his own tongue also hanging outside. Mere moments later, your spit was dripping down and landing in his mouth.

That action rendered him speechless, causing him to freeze. Your saliva tasted a little like alcohol. Darn it, this was so disgusting. Once you were done, you let go of the cowboy again, before teasing him, "I was right, you are a masochistic dog~" You knew because of his flushed cheeks, they became redder at your lewd antics. "Are you satisfied now? The fork do you want from me?!" Boothill scoffed, he could only bear this much until his breaking point. "What do I want?" You repeated his sentence, and put a finger on your chin as if you were thinking hard about something.

In the meantime, boothill impatiently waited, he desperately wanted to know your intentions, to see if it justified your actions. When you moved your finger away, you grinned before responding, "I think the answer is you." "...huh?" The cyborg was stunned, staring up at you with spirals in his pupils as you suddenly embraced him. "You heard me, boothill." Your voice and your hug were so warm, he didn't know you could be this gentle.

No, this was no good, it was troubling, to say the least. "Y/n? You- shirt, what do you mean?" For the first time, you heard your name come out of his mouth. His voice trembled as he voiced out your name, the way he said it had a nice ring to it. Then he glared at you once again, but this time he looked like a small animal, eyes glistening while a heavy blush formed on his face. Wait, why was he even blushing? Maybe, because he was wanted for the first time after centuries?

"I hate you." He said after returning to his senses, he got caught up in his emotions there for a moment. These little bits of comfort aren't enough to make up for the mess you caused, and he didn't feel the same. On the other hand, you couldn't stop smirking, and he knew by the looks of it that it wasn't an innocent smile by length. "Let's get out of here, I'll help you move." You then told him and helped him get up, pulling him by his arms.

This was immediately met with angry protests from the male, "Don't touch me- hey, ugh! Where the fudge are you taking me?" The second he let his guard down, you stuffed your gloves into his mouth to muffle his voice, "hMHh?! MmhhGFFF!!!" After that, to satisfy his curiosity, you whispered quietly, "To a place where I can have you."

"Finally, the guards are here." One of the guests said, to which another one answered, "Thank god because no one dared to go see what was going on." Maybe people we in disarray due to the mysterious sound they all heard. It was probably a gunshot, which means, someone might have died. Yet no one dared to go into the alley, out of fear that they might be the next victim. After the guards arrived, a rather large group of people followed them and ran over to the scene.

They all wanted to know what that gunshot was, standing on the sidelines and observing the investigation. 'What the hell happened here?!' Everyone wondered, eyes searching around for evidence. The only hints they found were two glasses standing on the staircase with some credits, as well as a pool of what seems to be malt juice lying on the ground along with a single golden bullet in the midst of it.

The guard in charge of this operation reached out for the bullet and said, "...someone must have been shot." Then he eyed the bullet up and down, in hopes of finding more clues. That's when he noticed a weird detail, "Why are there holes in the bullet?"

Tags: @ghostiegirl56 @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze

Nini!rant 2.0:

Based on my findings, concentrated sulfuric acid can melt many metals, like aluminium, iron and steel. (Boothill isn’t safe hehe) It’s enough if it’s moderately concentrated, so it’s alright if a bit of water mixes into it as well. It also reacts to brass - the copper aspect of it, I dunno if it reacts to zink as well. Some sources say yes, some denied it.

Anyway, the Formular for the melting process or chemical reaction would be: Cu + h2So4 -> CuSo4 + h2 or Fe + h2So4 -> FeSo4 h2

So it also creates hydrogen gas at the same time, which also melts iron and is poison for the human body. Annnnd copper Sulfid, which is weak and easily breakable, that means it can weaken the brass.

My plan to poison him: his favourite drink is malt juice with a 9mm calliber bullet that’s out of brass. And malt juice is out of ca. 25-30% water. So, I was thinking of drilling a hole into the bottom of the bullet and use a needle to shoot concentrated sulfuric acid inside the capsule. Then drop that in the malt juice. Now we just gotta wait for the acid to melt through the bullet, and mix with the water of the alcohol, then it’d become moderately concentrated. Btw sulfuric acid can absorb water from everywhere, even from the air.

Then if he drinks it, bam, his insides will melt. It might take a bit, so we gotta entertain him and stretch out the time. Even if he doesn’t drink it, he eats bullets, so he’ll get the acid inside his body anyway. With that, we successfully ‘poisoned’ him. It takes a bit of fantasy but oh well.

Now, take this hangman’s blood recipe:

- 1¾ parts gin.

- 1¾ parts white rum.

- 1¾ parts whiskey.

- 1¾ parts brandy.

- 7½ parts stout beer.

- 6 parts champagne.

369 notes · View notes

battlekidx2 · 6 months ago

Text

“Do you like girls?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you like boys?”

“I don’t know. I think I like TV shows.”

I remember when I was in middle school all the other girls were talking about the guys they liked and I said I didn’t like anyone. I just wanted to do my own thing.

I didn’t really get why I would want to date anyone. I understood friendship, companionship— having someone to share my interests and mutually info dump to sounded cool— but I struggled to understand the appeal of spending every day and every night with someone else. Of holding hands and going on dates.

This led to a lot of homophobic bullying and a few of them would act disgusted that I might be into them. Constantly acting like I was looking at their boobs and sexualizing them (I never made eye contact with anyone and would frequently look at the wall or space out while looking in their general direction). Or make a big show of not being interested and many other things.

I didn’t get this either. I didn’t know why I would be interested in any of them. They treated me poorly and I thought attraction was something people made up and simply just claimed to feel towards other people.

Just like I never understood celebrity crushes. You don’t know the person so how could you possibly know you liked them? And I never understood how people “chose” who they dated. Did they just choose whoever they liked hanging out with the most?

But any time I voiced this it was always met with worse and worse reactions. It led to isolation among peers and my family. My parents made it pretty clear I wasn’t who they wanted me to be. That I wasn’t normal.

I soon learned to fake it. Pretend I understood it.

The idea of not being attracted to anyone seemed like a foreign idea to most people I met. Even when I branched out and moved away, I met a few people in the lgbt community who couldn’t grasp it either and reacted poorly and it made me feel stupid. Like maybe I wasn’t just screwed up to people who fit in the neat little box society wants you to fit in, but to everyone else as well.

Maybe I was wrong. If it’s an impossibility even in this community that champions diversity and acceptance then can that really be my reality?

I kept trying to force it. To date, but every time I did I always felt that same skin crawling discomfort and it always petered out. It didn’t matter who it was or what gender. It always felt wrong. It was suffocating.

I don’t think there’s a movie that better portrays that all consuming, suffocating stagnation of feeling so out of place– knowing you’re out of place compared to those around you– and in response forcing yourself to fit what other people expect of you than I Saw the TV Glow.

Whenever I think back to growing up or whenever I return home that same feeling this movie is centered around always drenches my experiences.

And even now it’s hard to put into words when I talk to other people what I’ve felt when it comes to this aspect of my life.

That comment from Owen about knowing there’s nothing there when talking about romance and attraction, but being too afraid to look and knowing that his parents know something is wrong with him hit harder than any other scene from a movie I’ve watched this year.

It’s that absence of something that is at the heart of asexuality that makes me always question what I choose to identify as when I have to explain it to someone. Because for the most part my explanation boils down to (in broad oversimplified terms): I’ve never felt attraction, I’m more interested in watching a Spider-Man movie than I’ve ever been into even just the idea of dating, every time I’ve attempted to date it’s been uncomfortable and I’ve actively dodged anything beyond friendship while in the “relationship”.

And when I try to voice that to another person it always feels like those experiences don’t hold water. That’s describing the absence of something. There’s no real proof of the identity.

With being bi or gay or lesbian there’s something you can I don’t know—point to?— that can help you know your identity.

And that’s the fact that you’ve experienced attraction towards one or more people of one or more genders.

It’s defined not by the lack of something but the presence of an experience.

And so every time I try and explain it I end up feeling stupid. Like I just haven’t tried hard enough to find someone compatible. That I need to get back into the proverbial saddle and try again. I always in some way feel ashamed and backtrack as a result.

This is in no way to say that it’s harder or easier to be one identity or the another. Everyone’s experiences are different and everyone experiences are valid. This is just a struggle I’ve found that’s unique to asexuality that many people I’ve talked to have also experienced.

I haven’t felt that part of my experience be seen in media until I saw this movie. Maybe I’m latching onto what I can get or maybe that was an intrinsic part of the movie. That’s not important. What’s important is that it’s something I felt seen in even if it was literally just one scene.

This is my really long winded and roundabout way of saying that I really think this movie is going to stick with me much longer than any other thing I’ve seen this year.

Things can be hard to put into words and as a result I tend to keep things inside. I’m fairly certain I’m ace but it might turn out I’m on a different romantic spectrum then I thought or I fall somewhere different than I thought on the ace spectrum. I don’t know what I’ll discover in the future.

I’m likely not going to express my label out loud to anyone but a select few. I still can’t express this particular label out loud to many people. My family is definitely never going to hear it. A friend or two might.

It’s something I struggle with on a regular basis. I’m fine with identifying with the label in my head—in a lot of ways it makes me feel comfortable and happy— but any time I try to voice it the words die in my throat and I can’t help but feel ashamed. It’s easier to just tell people I don’t want to date right now. That there are all these factors in the way (finances, time, jobs, etc) than it is to try and explain what I’ve just rambled about above.

I know many people have felt and understood that experience and I hope people know they’re valid. You can express your identity with your full chest, shout it from the rooftops and let people know, or you can keep it to yourself, identifying as your label solely in your head. Both experiences are valid. And if your label changes at some point in your life that doesn’t make what you chose to identify as at this point any less valid too. People are always learning and growing. You can gain a new understanding of yourself as time move forward.

Sorry for the way too long ramble. This movie made me feel things.

#i saw the tv glow #a24 #aroace #asexuality #asexual #ace experience #this is my overly long #thoughts on my own experiences #and how labels can shift #and that your experiences #aren’t more or less valid #if you choose to say it out loud #or identify as it solely in your head #life’s complicated

767 notes · View notes

greenwitchfromthewoods · 3 months ago

Text

broken trust. [part 2] l Joel Miller

Summary: you used to be very close, but he broke your heart, now your paths have crossed again

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of sex, Ellie appears

A/N: I was very happy with how you received the first part of this story. I hope you'll stay with me a little longer and see where it leads us. a few people mentioned tagging - @vickie5446 @dreamtofus 🖤 This part is rather nothing interesting, but I hope you won't waste too much time.

[PART 1]

It was strange to have you by his side again. Although the entire drive to Jackson was silent, Joel felt as if someone had put a gun barrel to his head. Dusk fell rather quickly, the warm evening air filling the car as you cracked the window open.

The patrol you met didn't cause you any trouble and you got to Jackson when the city was lit up by streetlights.

The car parked in front of a building marked as a medical clinic.

"Go home." Joel muttered as Ellie started walking with you towards the front door.

"I don't want to. I'm going with you." The girl was outraged.

"No need. Go."

Ellie snorted, but adjusted her backpack on her shoulder, muttered a quiet "Bye" in your direction and headed down the main street of Jackson.

He was hoping you would say something, but all he heard was the clinic door opening and he saw you disappear inside.

Joel never liked doctors. Every visit reminded him of uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room, nervous nurses and doctors who treated everyone with contempt. And that whole strange smell.

The place was neat and clean though, and the doctor, an older man with a slightly nervous disposition, was quite pleasant and didn't take up much of the others' time.

"Y/N!" he smiled happily seeing you in the doorway "I'm very happy to see you. Is everything okay?"

"Hi, Doc. I brought you a patient, but I don't think you'll have much work with him." You replied, smiling at the sight of the friendly face.

"Mr. Miller? What happened to you?" the doctor showed Joel to a chair and helped him take off his jacket. "It doesn't look bad. We'll manage, Mr. Miller."

The doctor carefully disinfected his wound and put in a few stitches. Joel saw out of the corner of his eye how you were walking lazily around the office looking at old anatomy posters and joking with Doc.

Thousands of questions were spinning in his head and he didn't know who he should ask them to, because he knew that he had no right to ask them to you after all this time.

"What about you, young lady?" Doc washed his hands under the tap in the corner of the room and looked at you "How did everything heal?"

"Good, I guess. The scar is healing nicely." you replied and rolled your eyes seeing as Doc gestured for you to come over "No need, really."

Joel frowned and looked up at you. Maybe he shouldn't have done this, but he felt a strange pang in his heart. You were hurt.

Although Doc was covering you, he saw you lift your shirt, showing the doctor your side.

"Mhm. It looks really good." the doctor mumbled "But you have to be careful, okay? And...What is this?"

Now Joel could see clearly, your back was clearly bruised and you hissed when Doc touched the spot.

"The ribs are intact, that's good. When did this happen?"

"Today. But it's my fault. I got distracted."

"Mhm." the man nodded "You need to rest, Y/N. I know I can't force you to do anything, but please, get a good night's sleep and eat something."

"Yes, sir." you smiled "Can I go now?"

You left the clinic and only outside, when Joel spoke to you, did you realize that he had followed you.

"Y/N." Your name still sounded the same on his lips "Do you wanna talk?"

You zipped up your jacket to protect yourself from the cold and looked at Joel. He hadn't changed that much since you last saw him. He might have been more tired, but he was still the same man you'd woken up and fallen asleep next to so many times.

"I don't think we have anything to talk about." You replied, shoving your hands into your pockets "It's good to see you. I'm glad you're alive."

"Today's thanks to you."

"Yeah, take this as a favor for old times. Listen, I'd like to take a shower and lie down, I think I'll go now."

The man nodded. You turned around and started walking away, but after a few steps you stopped and looked at him again. He didn't move even a single step.

"Joel? I'm really glad you found Tommy. And that you're both alive."

The next gloomy days passed, but your enthusiasm didn’t decrease. Joel saw your notes, you calculated everything you needed to come to an agreement with Howard and his friend. Getting out of QZ was your little obsession. You practically didn’t talk about anything else.

And Joel felt worse and worse. He had the impression that a noose was tightening around his neck, which was getting tighter with each passing day.

The first blow came after more than a week. He was in town exchanging food stamps when your fingers tightened on his arm.

"What happened?" he asked, seeing the mixture of different emotions on your face. "Are you okay?"

"Nothing is okay." you mumbled. "We're in deep shit."

Joel looked around uncertainly. The street wasn’t a good place for such conversations. He grabbed your hand and led you home. But he already knew - it had begun.

You didn't say a word the whole way, and when you entered the apartment you just threw off your bag and jacket, sat on the couch and hid your face in your hands.

"Baby?"

You let out a groan of a person who is resigned and angry at the same time. You were filled with emotions and thoughts to the very limits, you needed a moment to yourself. However, after a few minutes he heard your voice.

"He sold it. He sold it, Joel." Your hands slid off your face and Joel saw your glassy eyes "That fucking car, is gone."

A snort escaped your lips, a mixture of laughter and mockery. Joel felt himself sinking deeper and deeper inside.

"I met Howard, he said it was over. I wanted to know more, but he told me to leave it..." you continued, staring blankly at your hands "Leave it! How... How am I supposed to leave it?!"

He approached and sat on the coffee table right in front of you, taking your hands in his. Seeing you like this was just sad.

"I should kill him." You muttered angrily. "I should do it."

"You know you can't. They'll catch you and it'll be even worse."

"I don't fucking care, Joel." Your hands slipped out of his. "He took away our chance. We were supposed to get out of here…"

"I know, I know, babe."

Finally, tears escaped from under your eyelids. It was one of the saddest sights for Joel. You were always so strong, you were on his side and he trusted you like no one else. But in that moment, your faith and hope for a better tomorrow shattered into a thousand pieces.

He allowed you to despair. And it lasted for several days. Joel often saw your red eyes, rarely heard your voice, and was also sure that you barely slept at night.

He wasn't ready for something like this, but he was sure you could handle it. You were tough, you'd get over it and soon everything would be back to normal.

He breathed a sigh of relief when one night he felt your arms wrap around his waist, you snuggled into his back, saying a quiet "I'm sorry."

But Joel knew it wasn't you who should be apologizing.

Tommy finished his coffee and looked at his brother. When he showed up at his house that morning, he seemed really down. At first, Tommy thought he was talking about his failed fling with Ellie. He had heard about it and was really glad that you were the one who found him and the kid.

"So you know Y/N?" he asked.

Joel nodded.

"From Boston?"

Another nod.

"Hmm, you don't seem happy to see her. Am I wrong?"

Joel's long fingers twirled the coffee cup around, he winced slightly.

"That's not it." he finally spoke up. "We have..."

"A story. I get it." Tommy stretched in his chair. "She's been here for a long time. Maybe two winters, I think. She's really helpful. She found and brought Doc here, that helped us. She brought some equipment to the clinic. That helped Maria give birth."

"Yeah, she's good at finding things. And people."

The sound of footsteps upstairs and the babbling of a baby distracted them for a moment. Life went on as usual in this house, and while Joel was always welcome, he knew he had to take care of his own life.

"Talk to her," Tommy finally said, as if reading his brother's mind. "It couldn't have been that bad, could it?"

It was bad.

All your fears came back in the blink of an eye. When you saw Joel after so long, you felt like you were seeing a ghost. You managed to hide all the memories associated with him and the emotions that accompanied them very well somewhere in the back of your head.

Now, however, they scattered around your mind and didn't give you peace. Neither coffee nor a long shower helped. After a sleepless night, you felt like a living corpse, and your back was giving you painful symptoms.

But you couldn't stay in your apartment, you had to do something. So you went outside with the intention of taking what you managed to get during your last trip, to the clinic. Imagine your surprise when you saw a familiar figure next to your car.

"Ellie? What are you doing here?"

"Hi. I came to see you. I didn't know where you lived so I came here." The girl smiled.

"Shouldn't you be at school or something?"

"Day off."

"Yeah, sure." You shook your head smiling. "I don't want to interfere. Joel probably doesn't know where you are, right?"

Ellie shuffled her shoe before answering.

"He's not my father, I can do whatever I want." She replied rebelliously.

You pulled two boxes out of the trunk and put them on the ground. The girl looked at you as if she was expecting what she might hear.

"He may not be your father, but he's the one who cares about you and can keep you safe."

"Did he give it to you too?"

You bit your lip, wondering how to answer. But you knew that only an honest answer would satisfy Ellie.

"Yeah, he did."

"So what happened?"

"These are matters for adults." You replied, but you winked at her.

That assured her that she wasn't entering dangerous territory and you wouldn't be telling her to go back to school or Joel.

"Do you need help?" she pointed to the boxes.

"Come on. At least you'll be doing something useful."

Everything was slowly getting back to normal, and that brought Joel relief. The car and Howard issue was closed, you didn't talk about it and focused on what was around you.

You might have gone out of the QZ walls a little more often, but Joel treated it more as a compensation for you. He even liked it, even though he was constantly looking over his shoulder and keeping an eye on you.

That was all he could give you, a few stolen moments outside the gray world you lived in. And you tried to take as much of it as you could.

You worked at QZ, and in your free time, together with Joel, you would sneak outside. Then you would go back to your shared apartment, make love at night, or just lie on the couch reading some old books. Sometimes you would get carried away by fantasy, like when Joel tried to convince you that he used to be a really good dancer. So you would dance cuddled in the living room while he hummed some melody that only he knew in your ear. It was soothing. His hand gently moving over your back, his voice quiet and calm. This was the life you created for yourselves.

But the end came as suddenly as an avalanche.

"Babe, are you here?"

He threw his jacket on the armchair and looked around the apartment looking for your trace. The place was quiet, but he finally saw you coming out of the bedroom.

"It took me longer today, but I got something extra. Have you eaten anything? I managed to get some fresh bread, I know how much you love it."

You didn't answer. You stood leaning against the door frame and watched him with your arms folded across your chest. A cold shiver ran down his spine.

You knew. He could feel it.

"What did I do to you, Joel?"

Your voice was almost dead, calm and so resigned.

"Sweetie..." he began uncertainly, but he didn't know what to say.

"What did I do to you, Joel?" you repeated the question just as calmly as before. "What did I do to deserve all this?"

He walked up to you and took your face in his large, warm hands. He wanted you to snuggle into them, like always, but your body was completely unmoved.

"I met Howard's friend today. We started talking. I asked if there was a chance for a battery or a reasonably functional car." The words flowed from your lips. "He laughed. He asked... He asked me why I bothered him when my boyfriend would show up soon and give him much more to sell it to someone else. Joel..."

You said his name as if you were begging him to tell you that it wasn't true, that this was all some stupid joke. But he couldn't, you could see it in his eyes.

"How dare you, Joel? How dare you?"

Why did you have to be so calm? That was the worst part of it all. You seemed as cold and unapproachable to him as ever.

"I did it for your own good." He finally replied. "For your safety. Listen, there's nothing there. You're safe here. And you're alive."

"Who gave you the right to decide for me?" you pulled away from him in disgust.

"I care about you!"

"You care about me?!" you scoffed "First you told me beautiful stories about how we'd get out of here, and then you took it all away from me! You watched me cry, you watched how devastated I was... Fuck, you must have really enjoyed it!"

"Don't say that! You know perfectly well that I... You know that you're important to me."

You never named what was between you two. It was good, so there was no need. Besides, you knew perfectly well that Joel wasn't the type to wear his heart on his sleeve.

His feelings were described by words like "Be careful", "Don't go there alone", "I'll go first" or "I've got your back". Or in the way he touched or looked at you. But now you were looking at a man you weren't sure you knew.

"Listen. Baby..."

"Don't call me that. That's bullshit!"

Your eyes filled with tears. A chasm appeared between you that couldn't be bridged.

"I wanted this for us." You whispered with difficulty. "I wanted us to leave this place behind. I know it's dangerous there, I know it would be hard, but we would be there together. I wanted you to find Tommy. I would go with you to the end of the world if you only asked..."

"I'm so sorry. You don't even know how much I regretted it. But I couldn't let anything happen to you, you know that."

You nodded and wiped your tear-soaked cheek with your hand.

"Yeah, I know."

Joel approached you and his hand brushed your cheek. He wanted to take you in his arms so much, to feel your warmth. He knew he would never be able to atone for what he had done. But the most important thing was for you to be safe and sound, with him.

For a brief moment he thought that everything would still work out. Joel didn't know how wrong he was.

You were already one foot out the door.

[PART 3]

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader

333 notes · View notes