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itsdrawingmen · 7 months

Note

Hey I am the same anon who came up with the headcannon (or maybe partially cannon) that yoosung can sing and has a sweet voice and to be honest

I would like both fics and headcannon posts and basically EVERYTHING related to it. Let your imagination run wild I really love your work

Secondly rn i cannot find the chat where he mentions that he was in a band but I will try to find it as soon as i get time. Cuz I CLEARLY remember seeing that but now it feels like some sort of Mandela effect. I hope its not mandela effect😭😭😭😭

Ooh, lovely anon, so basically my headcanons are as follows:

Yoosung’s story of artistic endeavours is a little similar to Zen’s in that his parents never took it seriously because you can’t monetize it consistently, or they perceive it as something you must have ‘talent’ to do. Yoosung is not extraordinary, so they’re dismissive. So all he can do, he’s mostly self-taught, with some inconsistent help from especially sweet teachers

He’s extremely embarrassed, especially in front of Zen who’s a professional

Singing is one of his ways of dealing with strong emotions. He picks songs with lyrics that resonate and pours his soul out

He was in a band, so he definitely has a good ear and a sense of rhythm, better than he gives himself credit for, but because he doesn’t have a formal education, he’s self-conscious. In the band, he sang and played percussion.

And also, you're in luck, because I put together a little something - it's more of a 'sketch' honestly, but I like it, so let's leave it here.

The house feels like home, Zen thinks as he passes around it.

His gaze brushes habitually across the textures of the wall, across the familiar cracks, then the ancient graffiti. He stops at the spot, and can almost imagine the heels of his sneakers falling into place, as if there is a slot for them. He smiles. The habituality feels good. The house feels like home. The more now that there’s a light in his windows, poking just over the asphalt.

It’s his favourite place to smoke: behind the house, right by his own windows. Out of the way, away from the prying eyes, where he would only bother himself. Zen pulls out the pack of cigarettes and the lighter. I will quit, he tells himself. One of these days. Yes, definitely one of these days.

The little light flickers, summoned by his fingers. Zen lights up the cigarette and takes a drag.

Then he hears it, rising from down below, quiet still, but his ear catches it immediately.

The voice.

Zen turns his head. The kitchen window is open into the warm spring air.

The light means Yoosung.

The voice.

He lowers down until he is crouching and bates his breath. Yes, there is no doubt. Yoosung is singing.

He can hear the running water and the clinking dishes faintly, and over them, the voice rises, timid at first, then louder and louder, little by little, until it opens heartily into a refrain.

‘Healing, o-oh! Healing, touching, for living!’

That’s such an old song, how does he even know it? He puts so much heart in that refrain, the choice of song is definitely not random. He knows it, no, more than that, he feels it.

Yoosung’s voice betrays a trembly vibrato in the verse. His breathing is wrong, Zen thinks. A normal mistake. He needs to use his belly. He forces it, just a little, but it’s so easily fixed.

He has such a nice voice, though, he can’t help but notice. It’s soft and mellow, on the tenor side — just a tiny bit rough around the edges, evidently untrained, but still already so good. Zen takes a drag of his cigarette and closes his eyes as he exhales. Yoosung’s voice is clear, stable on the notes, if a little inconsistent with the breath, but that gives it charm. After all, the song itself almost asks for it.

He plays around the phrase, his voice growing in confidence.

‘Healing, and help is coming.’

He has a sweet accent, too.

Where did you learn to sing, Yoosungie?

He puts out the cigarette on the asphalt and finds his jar to throw the butt in. Rises quietly, as if not to disturb. Yoosung’s voice has grown, bloomed in confidence, covering the hum of the running water.

‘And so, we need it, all I know, we need it, and so…’

Such an old song. He remembers trying it by ear on his guitar. The strings were so bad, but he had no money for new ones. Healing, he sang, touching. Did he believe, then, that healing and help were coming?

He hasn’t played in so long. He feels his fingertips itch. Will Yoosung sing if he plays?

Quiet, stupid heart.

He doesn’t want to think why his chest feels so full, so fluttery.

He steps springily away, passes around the house that feels like home. Opens the door, descends the stairs. Puts the key into the keyhole as quietly as he can. Presses the doorknob so slowly, so carefully.

As he opens the door, the flat is filled with the voice. He sings something else now, but something even more familiar — Zen knows this song, he remembers singing it for an audition. He remembers his director calling him, telling him he has got the role. ‘Even though the song choice was godawful,’ he told him then.

A good song.

A sad song.

A song about love.

It suits Yoosung’s voice so well, or maybe he just sings it so heartfelt.

He locks the door, he’s slow, quiet. But his chest can no longer contain his voice. He covers the last few steps till the kitchen, and then he joins in.

Then, the song stops, abruptly, leaving Zen hanging. Yoosung turns around sharply, Zen meets his gaze: a little lost, a little glazed, a little bewildered.

‘Hey,’ he says. ‘Why’d you stop?’

‘Z-Zen?’

‘You never told me you had such a cool voice.’

A blush creeps over Yoosung’s cheeks.

‘I… oh, it’s… nothing, really…’

‘Come on, I wanted to sing, too.’

‘Go on…’

Zen huffs, smiles.

‘Come on. Sing with me.’

He's curious now. He wants to know how they will sound. Yoosung’s wet hand reaches up, runs through his hair.

‘Oh, I’m not… I don’t sound well…’

‘You do. Come on. I love that song, indulge me.’

Yoosung smiles awkwardly, apologetically.

‘I’ll ruin it for you.’

‘Try me.’

Zen comes up to the table and leans on it.

‘Come on. Start. I’ll join.’

Yoosung’s smile grows even more helpless.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Deffo.’

Yoosung hesitates for a moment more. Then clears his throat. Zen encourages him with a smile and a nod. Yoosung turns away, stops the running water.

There is a long moment of silence. And then he sings.

And Zen lets him have that verse, then takes a breath and joins in.

His voice is lower, and it supports Yoosung’s so well. They blend together nicely, Zen thinks. Make a good duet. Needs a little polishing, but undoubtedly a good duet. Yoosung turns around to face him slowly, and Zen sees a little smile blooming on his face.

‘You were in love with someone else, but I just wanted you to stay by my side…’

He feels Yoosung’s voice jump off of his own, finally finding a solid base, growing stronger off him. The gaze of Yoosung’s different eyes travels up to fix on Zen’s.

‘You were more beautiful than anyone else, it hurts that I can’t even hold you in my arms…’

Zen has to look away. There’s something in Yoosung’s gaze, in Yoosung’s voice, that reaches deep into him, deeper than he wants to let him.

‘It hurts…’

He allows himself to play with modifications, and Yoosung’s voice holds the melody steady. He has done this before, Zen thinks. It’s impossible he has such a good ear without any learning or practice.

He tries not to think about that something in his gaze.

He honestly tries.

‘I won’t ask anymore, I won’t hope anymore.’

He finally dares to look at Yoosung, at his eyes, now closed as he pours his heart out into the song. He watches him sing, and he notices all the overforced notes, all the oversqueezed falsettos, but still somehow it all falls together into something so honest, so brutal — so perfect. A blue vein pulses on Yoosung’s throat, bulging as he puts effort in, and Zen catches himself transfixed. Yoosung is out of breath now, but he still holds the note before opening his eyes and meeting Zen’s gaze.

‘It hurts…’

Zen is silent. Yoosung’s voice, soft, mellow again, fills the kitchen air, seeps through Zen’s very heart before dissolving.

Then, Zen raises his hands and claps.

We should do this again sometime, he thinks. I should play, you should sing. I will pick up and learn your favourite songs, and I’ll tell you how to breathe with the belly. You’ll tell me where you’ve done this before.

But as Yoosung’s different eyes are fixed on him, and the aftermath of his song still rings through the beige kitchen, all Zen does is simply stand and clap.

#also we definitely should take this to main #I want to keep drawingmen the art blog #yoozen #zensung #mystic messenger

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delphi-dreamin · 2 years

Text

I Just Wanna Be (The Girl You Like)

[Stream 1]

It started out as a way to make some extra cash. But now Delphi has an admirer, and she thinks she's falling for the demon beyond the screen.

Notes: Or a camgirl AU~ I've been sitting on this for what feels like forever and I can't take it anymore! So here is the first chapter of my camgirl!Delphi AU!!

Characters: MC!Delphi, Lucifer, Asmodeus, Mammon

Relationships: Asmo x Delphi (implied), Lucifer x Delphi (mutual pining)

Word Count: 3099

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: masturbation, exhibitionism/voyeurism, cam show, use of toys (vibrator and dildo)

Saturday - Evening

OracleDelphi is online

It’s been a hell of a week when Delphi finally settles into her moon chair with a sigh, camera and ring light set up just a few feet away and a selection of colorful silicone toys spread out on the table beside her just out of frame. She’d started this as a way to earn some extra money while in the Devildom, but it had quickly become a nice stress-reliever for her. She normally streams on Saturdays, but will do the occasional members-only stream during the week if she needs to let off some extra steam.

She makes sure she’s settled the way she likes before clicking the ‘on’ button on the remote for her camera, smiling through her lashes. “Hello, darlings, and welcome back. It’s Saturday night, which means it’s time for our regular rendezvous. Tonight, I thought I’d do something a little different for you all because I’ve had a really rough week. But we’ll get to that in a bit. For now…” She grabs a light blue ombre dildo from her table, bringing its slightly pointed head to her lips and sighing, “I’ve been waiting for this all day…”

From behind his laptop in his darkened office, Lucifer inhales sharply through his nose, watching as the exchange student closes her eyes and takes the frankly massive dildo between her lips. It makes his mouth water and his dick twitch, watching her swallow the thing down to its base. He resigned himself long ago to the fact that he would have to settle for this, settle for watching her pleasure herself on the internet for the entirety of the Devildom to see. It doesn’t stop his mind from wandering, though.

Doesn’t stop him from imagining what that lovely mouth would feel like wrapped around him, what pretty noises she would make swallowing down his length.

Delphi releases the dildo with a wet pop, grinning at the camera as a string of saliva stretches from her tongue to the tip of the toy. She watches as the string stretches farther and farther until it snaps, tiny droplets landing on her chest. With an amused hum, she sighs, “I know y’all like it when I tease myself. Normally I do, too. But I don’t think I have it in me today, loves.”

She puts the dildo back on the table for a moment, eyeing the camera once more as she slips out of the one article of clothing she’d worn for this stream: a pair of lacy red panties. She can hear the comments chiming away as the fabric falls to the floor in front of her and she picks another toy to play with. She spreads herself open with one hand, letting her audience get a good view of her slick-coated cunt before she brings the small suction vibe to her clit.

She arches immediately, the sucking sensation on her delicate bud nearly enough to send her over the edge right then and there. Her eyes fly open, a lewd moan escaping her lips.

“Oh fuck,” she groans, rolling her hips. “Fuck me.”

“I’d love to,” Lucifer murmurs, stroking his cock at the languid pace that the exchange student rolls her hips at.

He pointedly ignores the chat at the bottom of his screen, dozens of random lesser demons saying the exact same thing within its text. Instead, he watches her pick the dildo back up, still glistening with saliva, and press it slowly into her dripping entrance. The noises that come from her lips as the toy stretches her are somehow both absolutely divine and downright sinful.

“Oh, fucking hell,” she moans through his laptop speakers, gaining in pitch with every word until she takes the toy to the hilt, pausing to catch her breath.

Lucifer can see her skin already glistening with sweat, droplets meandering down her flushed chest. Her violet eyes are locked on the camera as she continues her performance, and Lucifer finds it difficult to look away. He wants to watch the dildo disappearing inside her, imagining it’s his own cock drawing such delightful sounds from her plush lips. But her eyes captivate him so.

Delphi can feel her first peak approaching, the tension in her abdomen building with every brush of the silicone toy against her sweet spot. It makes her head feel light and her entire body feel warm, like she’s floating in a tropical pool. She turns up the intensity on the vibrator, unable to stop herself from crying out at the increased stimulation. It only takes a few more strokes of the thick toy before she’s coming undone.

She throws her head back against the back of her chair as her orgasm floods her senses, her vision going white behind her eyelids as electricity fills her veins. She continues pumping the dildo into her sweet spot, every thrust met with an upward buck of her hips and a cry of ecstasy.

It’s almost too much to keep going, but she does, pushing past the initial sensitivity to continue hitting that spot. She doesn’t let herself fully come down, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes as she builds to her second peak.

Lucifer watches and listens, enraptured, as the tiny human on his screen writhes in pleasure, her normally small voice loud enough through his speakers that he has to turn them down for fear of someone else hearing. Because that’s the last thing he needs, his brothers knowing that he’s watching Delphi’s livestream, though he’s sure that more than one of them are watching, too.

“Fuck, yes! Right there!” His attention snaps back to the screen as her voice gains in pitch and volume once again, signaling her orgasm is nearing. Her eyes are screwed shut, mouth hanging open in a pout, as she fucks herself relentlessly on the blue dildo. The wet squelch of the toy, punctuated by her high moans, is the most lewd sound Lucifer thinks he’s ever heard.

He keeps up his rhythm as she crests her peak, unable to look away as clear droplets begin to drip from the base of her toy to the chair beneath her. Lucifer’s eyes fix on the growing wet spot beneath her, salivating at the thought of what she must taste like, what her soft thighs would feel like under his hands as he spreads her open. She’d be so soft everywhere, her skin like the finest velvet under his fingers. He imagines himself going downstairs to her room, kneeling down in front of her chair and removing the toys from her grasp, replacing them with his mouth. Making her gush over and over again on his tongue.

He can only imagine it as he hears her reach her second orgasm, her voice breaking around her incoherent screams. This one lasts even longer than the first, her sobbing cries echoing not only through his laptop speakers, but through the House as well. As he watches, Lucifer feels his own orgasm approaching, chasing it with quick, hard strokes until he’s splattering his desk with white to the sounds of her loud, panting breaths.

With a sigh, he grabs a tissue from the box on his desk, closing his laptop.

“Thanks for joining me this weekend, my darlings. I’ll see you all next time!”

Delphi stops the camera with the remote and flops her head back against her chair. The dildo is still inside her, but she can’t be bothered at the moment to remove it, enjoying the feeling of fullness too much. She curls up in the chair, careful to avoid the very large wet spot in the seat, and closes her eyes. She could fall asleep just like this.

Alas, it isn’t meant to be. Just as she feels like she might drift off, her door opens and Asmodeus walks inside. He pulls a blanket from her bed and drapes it over her, then hands her a bottle of water he seemingly pulls from thin air as well as a little orange disposable vape.

She looks up at him, smiling gratefully. “What did I do to deserve you?”

The Avatar of Lust only chuckles, perching himself across from her on her bed. “You broke your record tonight,” he says, rose gold eyes glinting. “Five thousand views during your stream! It almost crashed twice!”

“How were the comments?” Delphi asks, cracking open the bottle of water and taking a long swig.

“As raunchy as ever,” Asmo giggles. He sobers then, and adds, “But none from your boy this time, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Delphi shakes her head. “He hasn’t commented in a month, I wasn’t expecting it this time. But everyone else enjoyed themselves?”

Asmo wiggles his eyebrows, “More than enjoyed themselves, hon. You were fantastic tonight. I came twice watching you.”

Grinning, Delphi teases, “You can always join me, y’know. I’m sure our fans would love that.”

“Darling, we would break DevilFans if we did a collab,” Asmo replies, waving her off. He sighs, “It does sound fun, though. Maybe we could even have Solomon and Barbatos on!”

“Slow down there, babe,” Delphi laughs. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. But you and me? That could be good. A real money-maker, too. We’d make bank.”

Asmo pretends to consider it, holding back his grin as long as he can. He doesn’t last long, though, and pounces on her in only a few moments. “I’d love to do a collab with you, kitten! We’ll have to figure out the details and start an ad campaign! Oooh! I bet your boy will get jealous and come back!”

“I don’t know that my boy even still watches,” she sighs, running a hand through her hair. She instantly regrets it because both of her hands are vaguely sticky with lube, but what’s done is done. “He could have up and disappeared for all I know. Straight up ghosted me.”

“Oh!” Asmo exclaims, opening up his D.D.D.

“Oh?” Delphi asks, turning to face him.

“He sent you a DM!”

“He what?”

“He sent you a DM!” Asmo repeats, turning his screen so that she can see the familiar username in her inbox.

Her heart leaps into her throat and she can feel her breath catch as she asks, “What does it say?”

Asmo opens the message whistles. “He wrote a novel, hon. Let’s see…

“Dearest Oracle,

I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my time following your stream, but I’m afraid I can’t watch any longer while living so close to you. In fact, I believe I’ve grown to love you in our time together. I’m afraid it’s because of those feelings that I can’t continue to watch your channel. Seeing your number of viewers grow and the types of comments you receive from said viewers has only left me with a sour taste in my mouth for the past few weeks. I hope you can understand and forgive me.

Yours,

Wolf”

They sit in silence for a moment, both processing the message. Delphi catches up first.

“What did he mean ‘living so close’ to me?” she asks, her eyes wide.

Asmo shakes his head, frowning. “Maybe someone you know?” he suggests. “What if it’s Diavolo?!”

“You shut your whore mouth!” Delphi gasps, a little cornbread sneaking back into her accent with her affronted tone.

The Avatar of Lust giggles, avoiding her fist as she moves to playfully punch him in the shoulder. “Okay, okay! Not Diavolo! Who else could it be, then?”

Delphi shrugs, curling back down into her blanket. “It doesn’t really matter, does it?” she asks. “He’s leaving. He won’t be on the stream anymore.”

Asmo nods. “Okay, yes. There is that. But did you miss the part where he said he’s grown to love you? You have a not-so-secret admirer, darling! We have to find out who he is!”

Crossing her arms, Delphi sighs, “And how exactly do you propose we do that?”

Asmo grins.

It’s only been twenty minutes since her stream ended and Lucifer realizes that just the one orgasm isn’t going to be enough. With a sigh, he opens his laptop back up, navigating to the ‘past streams’ section of Delphi’s page. There are dozens of videos on her page, but only one he’s interested in watching. The fourth oldest video in her catalogue, from when she’d first started.

He opens the video player and presses play, settling back into his chair with another sigh.

On his screen is a much different Delphi from the one on the stream tonight. She’s still stuttering and a little nervous, taking suggestions from viewers on how to proceed with the stream. It was easy for Lucifer to be the loudest voice in the chat that night, to take control and guide her hands. The video player shows the chat record as well, letting him read along with the silent half of the conversation as it happens.

Bigbadwolf: Let me see your collection, little one.

“My toy collection?” she asks, surprised.

Bigbadwolf: Yes, show me what you use to pleasure yourself.

“O-okay,” she stammers, pulling her side table into view. He remembers thinking it had to be new, because there hadn’t been a table on wheels in the guest room when she’d first arrived. He’d then thought that she had an impressive little collection for not having brought anything with her. There were several standard dildos in varying colors, looking very human in their design. But there were also several that he was sure Asmodeus had helped her find. They were demonic, for lack of a better word. Some had ridges and scales, others had varying shapes and girths, some had knots. But there was one specific toy that drew his eye.

Bigbadwolf: The blue one.

The exchange student gasps, eyes darting from the toy to the camera and back. She swallows hard, biting her lip. It’s clearly the biggest on the table, both in length and girth, with a slightly pointed head, thick base, and smooth finish. Her hands shake slightly as she reaches for the thing and a bottle of lube.

“It’s kind of funny that you picked this one,” she says, smiling wistfully as she squeezes some of the lube out onto her palm. “This one is new. It was a gift from my channel manager for getting started. He said that he had it made especially for me, and that it’s based off of someone he knows? I don’t know who it could be. But—oh fuck!”

Lucifer groans, watching the toy sink into her for that first time. The way her eyes went wide, the way her back arched off of her pink moon chair, and the look of pure bliss on her face were nearly enough to make him come right then and there the first time. Her breath comes in shallow pants on the screen as she works it fully inside herself with a lovely moan.

Bigbadwolf: You look gorgeous like that.

“Hah--! Thank you, Wolf. It’s easy for you,” she breathes, smiling into the camera.

Bigbadwolf: You flatter me.

“No, it’s true!” she exclaims, sitting up a little, her violet eyes wide. “I was nervous before, but with you here it was so easy to just get into it. Thank you.”

Bigbadwolf: Well, you’re very welcome, little one. Keep going.

Bigbadwolf: And I have a question for you, if you’d indulge me.

“Anything,” she moans, her cheeks pink and her eyes glazed over with lust. He can see the pact mark on her inner thigh glowing pink between thrusts of the blue toy. He hadn’t noticed it the first time, so enamored with the sound of her voice, the lust in her eyes, and the way she rolled her hips into every thrust of the blue dildo.

Bigbadwolf: What do you think about when you pleasure yourself?

“Usually nothing, honestly,” she laughs. It turns into a low moan as she finds a good angle and chases it, her legs shaking. “But recently, there’s this demon I know that I’ve been having a hard time not thinking about…He definitely doesn’t think about me like that, but I can’t help it. I think I’m falling for him.”

Lucifer had felt a pang at that. There was no telling who she was actually talking about. But just for a few moments, he could imagine it was him.

“Sorry, you don’t want to hear about some other demon,” she sighs, hiding her reddening face in her elbow.

Bigbadwolf: Don’t hide from me, little one. Let me see that lovely face while you come.

“F-Fuck--!” she cries, nearly coming out of the chair with the force of her orgasm. Lucifer remembers the first time he watched, how he couldn’t even continue stroking himself as she unraveled on the screen in front of him, her moans ringing out like bells. He’d traveled all three realms, seen everything they had to offer, and her body, shimmering with sweat and writhing in pleasure there on that pink chair, had to be the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

And still is, he reminds himself, running his thumb over the head of his cock with a groan.

The library is dark when Mammon makes his way downstairs. He’s sure Lucifer was in his office earlier, but he hadn’t heard any noise from the room in a couple hours at least. The second-born pads into the library as quietly as he can, not wanting to get caught if, for some reason, Lucifer was still in his office. The book he’s looking for is close to the entrance to Lucifer’s office, and he really can’t risk Lucifer hearing him.

He’s fumbling with his D.D.D., trying to turn on the flashlight, when a muffled sound catches his attention.

“The hell was that?” he mumbles, looking around. It had come from inside Lucifer’s office. He opens the door a crack and hears it again, this time slightly louder. It sounds like…a moan?

“Sorry, you don’t want to hear about some other demon.”

“Don’t hide from me, little one. Let me see that lovely face while you come.”

Mammon bites down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything. The first voice he recognizes as Delphi’s. Both from her stream—which he doesn’t watch! —and from living with her for the past six months. The second, he realizes, is Lucifer’s. Not only that, but he recognizes what he’s mumbling.

“I fuckin’ thought that asshole sounded familiar,” Mammon swears under his breath as he beats a hasty retreat. He has to tell someone about this.

Taglist: @sassykattery @bite-sized-devil @sparkbeast20 @kyungjoon-do @attic-club-sandwich @rensphilia

#obey me #obey me lucifer #mc!delphi #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me mammon #camgirl au #obey me smut #obey me x oc #i really hope y'all enjoy this...

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dilftaroooo · 3 years

Note

hi! can you please write a nsfw oneshot for dio brando x fem! reader ? to be a little specific; can you add a boss/assistant dynamic & corruption kink? tysm ( ◠‿◠ )❣️

mmm corruption kink. thats absolutely my fav, anon 🤤. i'll be more than happy to write it for you. enjoy!

(business office au)

you gotta earn it. (boss!dio x secretary!reader)

word count: //1.7k+//

synopsis: you want that raise? then show mr.brando what it is you're willing to give up to him. it's only fair.

tw/tags: dubcon, nipple play, corruption kink, size difference (not heavily mentioned though), business attire, afab reader, cute virgin reader.

"No."

Those words left you speechless; stiff in your spot as you looked into piercing, yellow, eyes. He said it in such a nonchalant manner, you don't think he even took a double take on your question. You spent so much effort to muster up the courage to ask your boss the question that you dread to be answered - but not in this way. He must have made a mistake.

"'No'...?" You echoed.

Dio leaned back in his seat, eye contact never faltering as he crossed his legs, burgundy colored dress pants ruffled at the movement. He tilted his head in a mocking manner as one well groomed eyebrow raised upwards.

"Oh dear. Perhaps my beloved secretary has gone deaf? I shall repeat myself once more: 'No' meaning, 'No, I will not offer you a raise.'"

Your fist clenched as you try to fight back the tears of humiliation and neglect. Why? Why did he refuse you? You worked so hard for him and you knew he knew that. So why won't he give you this raise? Leave it to Dio to crumble up your acts of valor and throw them into a fiery pit.

Trying to regain your composure, you speak up,

"But, sir, Why? I've done so much for you these past couple years; schedule your meetings, review your records and documents, compose orientations for newcomers. I even make sure to make your coffee each morning - a long black with two shots of expresso."

Your eyes were becoming wet. You were on brink of breaking down and crying right in front of your boss. You don't even think he was the slightest bit convinced by your retort. All he did was observe you with a wicked smirk plastered on his face. There was no change in his features but, reluctantly, you resume.

"Please, Mr.Brando. Please give me this raise. I-I'll try to do better for you! Just tell me what it is I need to do. Please, I'll do anything, Mr.Brando."

Dio stiffened. It was that keyword that gained his attention: 'anything'.

"'Anything', you say?" You nod and a flash of his white teeth glimmered from the building's colorless light on the ceiling. His chuckle was deep. "Think before spouting careless words such as that, my little mouse." The small squeak emerges from his office chair as he gets up, approaching your meek figure and you cower at his nearness. His fingers gently grasped your hair and you notice how well kept they were - manicured with a clear polish and decorated with gold rings. You didn't miss the Rolex watch wrapped around his wrist.

"Such pretty hair," He lightly plays with your mane before tightening his grip and hoisting your head up, forcing you to look directly at him. "You don't mind if I tug on it do you, love?" He adores the wince you let out, eyes scrunched close with pain.

"Ouch! Mr.Brando, Please stop-"

"Oh but you said you would do anything for me, remember? So I'm allowed to use you however I please. You want a raise, don't you?" Your face burns when his lips feather against the skin of your cheek. You heave out a low sigh at his deed. Dio deliberately consumes your reaction - savoring it like the smoothest red wine.

"Have you ever been fucked before, dear?" The amorous question made you whine. This was just too dirty. You shake your head for an answer.

"N-No, sir."

"Really? You've never been touched before? No one has ever pounded that filthy, little, pussy of yours? Tsk, tsk, tsk - What a shame. Looks like I have to change that." He lets go of your scalp but your head never moves, eyes still on his frame as you process his words.

"Wait, Mr.Brando, please. I've never- oh!" You were put to an abrupt stop when he picked you up from under your arms and legs before setting you down on his desk. It messy with scattered documents he found frivolous and purposeless, there were much more important matters at hand.

Tearing off your white dress shirt and bra in a blink of an eye, he gave your mounds a carnivorous stare, gulping at your nipples swell at his glance. He wasted no time kneading them. You let out a moan from his heated touch. It was foreign to you.

"What a lewd sound you made just now, Y/n. You like this, right? I barely even started." His fingers teased your stiff buds, pinching and pulling at them.

"Ngh- No, Mr.Brando..."

His touches were blunt and straightforward, they were rough as he assailed your fragile body. He was fervent to take it to the next step. He lifts your legs up to take off your pencil skirt.

He lets out a delighted sigh beyond seeing your choice of underwear. "Lacy panties? Was my little mouse expecting this? Getting all dressed up for your boss. You're such a nasty fucking girl."

"That's not true! I was in a rush to-"

"Excuses, excuses. That's all I hear from you. Shut up and take your panties off. I want to see how wet your cunt is." You obeyed under his stern tone - slowly stripping off your red-laced panties. You still had your legs closed, ashamed to show him your untouched flower but Dio pried them open by your knees. Your heady scent instantly fills his nose and he takes this time to observe your pussy, you were soaked - vagina pulsating, waiting for anything to be plunged inside, trimmed hairs placed on your pubic area, clit swollen with excitement. It was remarkable.

"Look at you, throbbing so greedily." He puts two thickset fingers in your sopping pussy without warning." An invevitable moan escaped your lips when he applied pressure to your g-spot.

"M-Mr.Brando - mmmm - that spot, you're hitting that-"

"Quiet, little mouse. As much as I love to hear you scream did you forget the setting we're in right now? I hate the idea of someone seeing this pretty pussy other than me." You pitch your voice down an octave - not too fond of the idea of being caught by your coworkers (especially by Jonathan).

His digits rapidly thrash inside you, bodily fluids flew everywhere. "You're making such a mess all over me. So sloppy. I have no doubt that this is what my little mouse wanted. Your grip is so firm around me." Your small hand cover your painted lips. You didn't want anyone to hear you but Dio was making it all too hard, he was hitting all of the right spots within you.

Pulling his fingers out, he unzips his flyer and sought out for his cock. His length was huge, you were unsure if you should even continue. His member intimidated you. Dio knew you were on edge, he softly coos at your expression.

"Aw, don't worry, sweetheart. You'll only feel a slight pinch." Aiming his shaft to your entrance, you recoil once he plummets inside of you, tip kissing your womb. What you felt was more than a pinch. it was easily comparable to being stabbed in your nether regions. Tears flowed from your eyes.

"Pull out! Please, it huuurts!" Your cries were ignored as Dio continued slamming into you like no tomorrow. He covered your mouth with his large hand, muffling your wails.

"Ah- You feel that? My cock jabbing at your womb?" His thrust slow down so you can feel every inch of him - veins feeling more prominent than before. "That's how deep I go inside of you. This tiny body of yours can't handle a cock like mine. Ha! And would you look at that, I can even see your stomach bulging from my dick. How filthy."

He traced his fingers along the bulge forming near your abdomen. He rams in you relentlessly. You gripped the sleeves of his business suit, wrinkling them while doing so. Dio was fired up by the calls of his name leaving your lips, making him go at a, almost inhuman, pace.

Vulgar slaps of skin filled the room and you were both close to coming. Dio's hot breaths reached your ear and his thrusts losses its initial tempo.

"You're a few inches away from getting that raise, sweetheart. Just let me fill you with my seed." He bites the crevice of your neck - his teeth were sharp.

"Mr.Brando-! I'm gonna come...Agh- Mr.Brando... D-Dio!" Said man met his high after his name was yelped - relieved to let himself go, his cum spurts deep in your walls. You came shortly after by the feeling of him filling you up. Both of you sigh.

He hoists himself up off of you to put his dick back in his pants and fix his attire. You grimace at the slimy fluids now sticking between your legs. Dio scoffed. "Consider yourself lucky, little mouse. You finally got that raise you so desparately wanted. What's wrong with a little cum in you, hm?"

A bit irritated, you get dressed as well, getting ready to leave his office. But before you can exit, he turns you around to face him, eyebrow lifted in question.

"Leaving now? Have you forgotten what to say?" You assume he wanted some form of gratitude from you for giving you a raise.

"Thank you, Di-

"Hmmm? Did I fuck you so dense you forgot who I am to you?" You blush at his smile.

"T-Thank you, Mr.Brando."

"Good girl. Run along now." He slaps your ass before you leave.

"Dio, why do you smell like sweat? The only thing you do is sign papers and present at meetings." Jonathan frowned at Dio's pungent scent. The man chortled at Jonathan's exasperation. If only he knew what happened behind closed doors.

"Don't worry about it, JoJo. A little boy like you wouldn't understand."

"We're the same age, Dio."

"Oh yeah. You're right. You have such the resemblance of a child that I must've forgotten." Dio teases. The both head to the parking lot of their company to call to it a night. Jonathan clenched his teeth.

"I do not! Just what in the hell were you doing in your office? Working out?"

Dio roared out a large laugh at the word akin to what you and him did earlier today.

"Yeah.. you can call it that."

this fic belongs to @dilftaroooo

#jjba smut #jjba x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure #dio x reader #jojo smut #dio brando #business au #anon request #tw: dubcon #tw: corruption #requests. [👘]

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Note

“I’m not telling you again.”

If you’re still doing the sentence prompts?

CW: Vampirism, blood drinking, minor whumpee (OC is 17), captivity, referenced dehydration and starvation, forced turning, wishing for death, religion

1905, somewhere outside New York City

"Come here, little one."

The boy presses himself back against the cold stone wall behind him. There's a cuff around one ankle, dull iron, and a chain that scrapes the floor when he moves. He swallows, shaking his head rapidly from side to side. Dirty hair falls dull over eyes that sparkle vibrant green in the near-total darkness.

He can't see her.

But she can see him.

"No." His voice is a whimper, a nearly-animal whine, pure fear. "Please, please, please no, not, not, not tonight, not... not tonight, please."

She sighs, chuckling fondly, and pulls a match across her palm to light the lamp that hangs on a hook down here. The wick catches flame, and now he sees the pale, pale skin, the deep red lips. The predator's gleam in glinting dark eyes.

She crooks a long, sharpened fingernail . He can see the hem of her dress, lace-edged, the skirt that sweeps up to curve her hips, the narrowed waist, the high neck. He's stared at illustrations of the Gibson girl put up in shop windows in stores that sell to richer women than he's ever known. She's an echo right down to the soft, upswept hair.

Like a man with an expensive coat hiding a knife, he thinks, that he means to slaughter you with. She's a monster who looks like an angel.

"I'm not telling you again. I'm hungry," She says, and gives a little pout. "I want you to feed me."

He pulls his arms in close, shaking his head again. Tears already threaten. He's so tired, all the time. There is never time enough to heal from one bite before the next and the next and the next-

"Come now, little pet. It's just one last time." Her voice is gentle, but he knows they lie. They all lie to get their fangs in you.

"What, what, what d'you mean?" The boy has a thick country Irish accent, still. Fresh off the boat, they call him when he tries to speak to the boys his age in his tenement. Half of them have accents like his, or thicker.

Not that he'll see any of them ever again.

Not since his parents-

Not since-

He chokes on a sob he can't quite hold back, turning at the waist to rub his fingers over the rough, cool stone. It helps. The motion, the texture, it helps. It calms him down, a little.

Everything here is wrong.

He misses home. He misses the green hills that were never so full of dirt ground in as the city streets are. He misses the air that didn't smell like offal day and night. He misses a world where it was all less overwhelming. He misses a world where his parents were alive to help him understand it.

"Oh, you're sad tonight," The monster wearing a woman's face says, taking the lamp off the hook and carrying it closer. The shadows dance off her cheekbones, they seem to give her a sneer rather than her soft smile. "Let Malorie be of aid to you. Tell me what you need, sweet boy."

"Can, can, can I have a-a drink? Miss?" His voice is hoarse from thirst, and he's parched. It has rained for two weeks and he's drunk the rainwater that leaks in through the walls, plus the few sips they give him each day. Food is a bit of moldy bread, cheese, maybe a thin soup. It isn't enough.

They don't seem to notice, or care.

But then food or water is something they left behind, isn't it?

"Hm." She steps forward, closer to him. Her eyes flash in the dark, reflect the bit of light, and he cringes back from her fangs as she smiles down at him. She moves to crouch before him, and sets the lamp down on the floor beside her. "Is it thirst that drives you, little one?"

"Please." His lips are chapped and cracked. He tastes blood, sometimes, and spits pink-tinged spit to blend with the soil beneath him. He tries to look pitiful - it's not hard to succeed. "Please. I'm, I'm so so so so... so thirsty, ma'am, just a cup, please-"

She looks down, unfastening the line of tiny pearl buttons on one sleeve, then rolling back the fabric to expose her wrist. A stray curl of dark hair falls down to brush her perfect cheekbone.

"Ma'am?" He can't understand what she's doing - none of them had ever started to undress in front of him before. "A drink, ma'am? Please?"

She looks up, and her eyes gleam like a cat's in the dark. Her teeth are very very white. He can see the venom shimmering on her fangs.

"A drink you want, you beautiful boy," She says, and he stares with uncomprehending horror as she moves her wrist towards her own mouth. "And a drink you shall have."

She tears her own wrist open with her teeth.

He gasps and tries to get up to run, but he's weak and dizzy and when she yanks at the chain that binds his ankle to the wall he goes down hard and lands with a thump, the breath knocked out of him.

While he wheezes air into lungs that won't take it, she pushes him onto his back and forces her wrist against his mouth, her other hand pinching his nose shut.

He cries out in horrified disgust against her cold skin and the thick brackish fluid that flows over his tongue. She stares down at him, avid, with huge eyes.

"Drink, sweet boy," She murmurs. "Quench your thirst."

He must drink or suffocate, and his body chooses for him. He swallows even as he gags, and swallows again, and she lets go of his nose so he can frantically pull in air, tears streaming to pool in the shells of his ears and soak into his grimy, dirty hair.

She is a blur through his terror, but her smile is written in stone in the yard beside a church.

"My turn," She says, and when she buries her fangs into his neck, the boy screams again.

And then goes limp as the venom takes hold, and the vampire begins to purr, her fingers gripped like claws into his shoulders.

There is no pain.

Only the fear.

I'm going to die, he thinks, and stares up into the darkness that wipes out even the lamplight. It seems like it's growing, within him and without.

His mouth is full of blood. It tastes better than it did when first she made him drink. The heaving of his stomach stops. He starts to swallow willingly, even eagerly. Nothing has ever quenched his thirst quite like this. It doesn't taste at all like he'd thought.

I'm going to die.

He wants to go home.

He wants more to drink.

He's so hungry.

He wants more blood.

When she pulls her wrist away, he whines and tries to grab at it, to pull it back. She laughs, swatting playfully at him.

"Not yet," She chides, wagging a finger. She licks her open wound and it closes. She laps at the remaining blood and he tries to sit up, to get some too, only for her to push him down again.

Then... pain.

Agony hits, a bright stripe straight up his spine, and he arches away from the ground, throwing his head back and screaming loud enough to bounce off all the walls. It recedes, and then comes again, through his stomach this time. The throb moves to his hips, thighs, into his calves and all the way to his toes.

He curls into a ball on his side, but the pain keeps growing. It takes over. He can't feel the floor he lays on, only the constant spark of nerves blaring alarm. He feels like he is being crushed under a rock, burned by the hottest fire, stabbed with a hundred knives.

"Wh, what, what's happening-... t'me?!" He coughs, and then sobs as the action hurts more than anything else ever has in his life.

"You're dying." She picks at her fingernails, already bored.

He turns to look up at her as she stands, licking her chops like a cat. Tears run down his face, and every time he blinks the air seems pink-tinged. "What...?"

"That's your body shutting down. You know, you're very fortunate." She wipes a droplet of the boy's own blood from the corner of her mouth and then sucks her finger clean. "Very few people get to be born twice. I'll see you tomorrow night. I would prefer if you didn't call me your mother."

Before he can even begin to form a question, she turns to walk away, hanging the lamp up on its hook as she goes, blowing out the flame.

The pain ripples again, he is broken like a brittle shell against the shore. His very bones feel as though they're tearing apart inside him.

He's going to die here.

And he won't stay dead. His parents will wait in Heaven for a demon son who will never be allowed to step foot into Paradise.

He gulps in air, lungs burning, and tries to remember the prayer through his panic. "Our Father, wh-who art in Heaven, hallowed be be be Thy Name-"

His throat blisters even saying the words, and when he tries to cross himself, his hand shakes too much, his joints crack and shatter. He can feel it, he can hear it. They crack and reform, break and bend.

He screams.

He screams until his throat is raw, until it bleeds, until his heart stops beating and blood runs from eyes and ears and from under his nails.

He whispers every prayer he's ever known when he can. He begs for salvation, he begs to be spared eternal bloodlust, he pleads for something other than damnation. He prays he'll see his parents in death and not become a monster like this.

His prayers are swallowed whole by darkness.

He dies, but he does not die for long.

Tag list: @mylifeisonthebookshelf @insaneinthepaingame @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @newandfiguringitout @astrobly @endless-whump @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @doveotions @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @what-a-whump

#whump #vampirism #vampire whumpee #vampire chris au #horror writing #horror fiction #vampire fiction #blood drinking #immortal whumper #sadistic whumper #captivity #bitten #chained up #horror story #vampire whump #vampires #monster whumper #chris the strawberry blond romantic #referenced starvation

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greenorangevioletgrass · 3 years

Note

just sayin sub!haz lives in my head rent free

[finishing hoe for haz asks]

mine too. sub!haz be squatting all over the dang place how rude. this one is based on this ask bc i couldn't get it off of my mind! big ups to @shipping-not-sailing for brainstorming with me!

cw: sub!haz, softdom!reader, good communication lol, smut (punishment, edging, oral - f, fingering, subspace, cockwarming, creampie) a d/s relationship doesn't always need rough play soooo surprisingly a lot of fluff ✌️

***

When you come home from work, Harrison greets you with a kiss and a squeaky clean flat. Your favorite takeout is on its way.

"That's very thoughtful of you, wifey," you sigh into his shoulder as you toe off your impossibly high heels.

He flashes you a toothy grin before ushering you towards the bathroom. You find a new bottle of your favorite body lotion by the sink, right next to his.

The man even gives you a nice foot rub when you lounge on the couch that night. And still you think he's just doing this because you'd had a long day at the office. He's always been thoughtful that way.

But one thing that is a non-negotiable is that Harrison always tries to pick what to watch on Netflix. And on his best days, he would be so sweet and so persuasive that he'd let you think that it was your choice. So when he lets you pick with absolutely no fight, it sets off your suspicions just a tiny bit.

You watch him closely with narrowed eyes. "Alright, what's going on?"

"Nothing."

"That is chicken shit. What do you want?"

"Nothing! I just know you had a long day, and-- I mean, I had a nice day. I just thought I'd... share that with you." he pouts, absently rolling your ankle, trying to distract you from your hunch.

"Yeah?" you fold your legs back and sits closer to him. "How was your day, darling?"

"It was pretty nice! Went to the gym, finished reading Exit West, listened to Jojo's new album while I tidied up, came a couple times..." he tries to be dismissive, but the last one catches your attention.

"I'm sorry. You what?"

"I came a couple times," he mutters, lowering his volume with each letter.

"Right...” your eyebrows shoot up, although you try to be as neutral as you can. “Did we have some sort of agreement that I wasn’t aware of? I thought our deal was to not cum while I’m away.”

“I know, I know. I just--” he all but cowers as he stumbles through his words, “I came across the polaroids we took back in Monaco and-- You’re just so pretty, I couldn’t resist.”

“Well... I appreciate your honesty. But you know you’re not getting away with this, right?”

“But-- I got your favorite takeout and your--”

“Oh, so you did that just to butter me up?”

“Well, no. I just thought...” he toys around with the hem of his shirt. “I just thought it wouldn’t hurt.”

You smile sweetly at your dear boyfriend. “Aww, sweetheart... why don’t you get ready for me and we’ll find out, hm?”

His face drops. He swallows, but he kisses your cheek and makes his way to your shared bedroom without any complaint.

You finish your glass of wine, sip after small sip, taking your sweet time knowing it drives him insane in the other room. When you do make your way there, Harrison is in the middle of the bed, on his knees. Completely naked. Cock raging hard in all its veiny and curvy glory.

Eagerly waiting for you.

But you're not done torturing him. You made a beeline for the bathroom, brushing your teeth and going about your nightly skincare routine. Catching glimpses of him through the bathroom mirror, getting more antsy by the minute.

"Aren't you gonna say anything?" he pipes up as you leave the bathroom.

"Like what?" you play dumb, acting as if everything's normal.

He shrugs, unable to find the words.

"Do you have something to say?" you cross your arm, standing at the foot of the bed.

"I'm sorry," he says with his head bowed.

"Oh?"

"I really am." he scoots over to the edge and pulls you in, so your knees are resting on the bed.

He runs his hand down your arm, all the way to the back of your hand, filling the space between your fingers with his own. You know he still has something on his mind, but right now, he's just being a pouty baby about it.

"What's going on, baby?" you lift his chin with your free hand, making him look at you.

And oh, how those puppy dog eyes steal your heart.

"I wanna make it up to you," he pouts, pressing his body flush against yours. "Wanna make you feel good. Please?"

"Show me," you murmur, a breath away from his lips, waiting just a second too long to close the gap.

He holds himself back in his kiss. Soft, controlled. You had to deepen the kiss yourself before he lets go of his own mental restraints. Your tank top and shorts are slipped off in a sloppy mess of limbs, and soon he's taking you into bed.

He trails his lips down your chest, every kiss an apology, sucking your tits like it's a fountain of forgiveness. Tongue running down your sternum and along your hip bone.

Finding home between your legs.

The sight of him so open, so... willing for you has made you wet, and now he's laving and licking your clit like there's no tomorrow. Soon his fingers join him, fucking your gushing cunt as God intended.

Your first orgasm hits you gently, a culmination of slow and steady stimulation. But the pleasant burst doesn't stop, taking yourself right into the second one, a violent shake in your core. By the time your third orgasm rolls around, you're shamelessly grinding his face just as he grinds into the bed.

Oh.

"Getting worked up, aren't we, love?" you tug his hair, getting him to crawl back up your body. "You wanna cum now?"

He just nods meekly as he nuzzles your chest, busying his mouth with your tits instead of giving a straight answer. You don't miss how the tip of his cock barely misses your pussy.

"Well," you sit up, and he follows. "Since you don't need me or my rules anymore, why don't you be a big boy and get yourself off, Harrison?"

"But--" he tries to protest but you interrupt him with a quick peck on the lips as you get out of bed.

"I'm gonna get some water. You want some?" you ask casually, not a hint of anger or malice in your voice.

He just stares at you with wide eyes, surprised and... a little disappointed? You'd normally put him over your knee or torture him with one of your toys, but not tonight. Tonight you're calm and quiet and forgiving.

It's disconcerting as fuck.

He tries, though. By God he tries. You're outside the whole time --drinking your water and checking your messages, although your mind goes straight to the boy desperately trying pumping his cock in his hand. Trying out different paces, different touches, getting farther and farther from his orgasm as he goes.

When you return with his glass of water, he's sat with his back against the headboard. Arms crossed, eyebrows knotted. Sulking like a child.

"What's wrong?" you put the glass on the bedside table.

"Can't."

You sit on the edge of the bed. You know what he means, but you ask anyway, "Can't what?"

"Can't do it like you. You do it best."

Part of you is happy that he learned his lesson, but oh... how his puppy dog eyes break your heart.

He's so deep into subspace, and you realize you may have gone too far by treating him like a big boy and calling him by his full first name. Nor Haz, or darling, or love, or baby.

Harrison.

He's on the verge of tears and his cock, stubborn against his torso, red and painfully hard.

You smile softly at him. "Alright, baby. Let me take care of you now."

His face lights up as you grab some lube from the drawer. His jaw soundlessly drops when you squirt the cool gel on the tip of his cock, and a moan spills out as you spread it down his length with your hand.

You can feel the tension escaping him the more you caress his hair, spread tender kisses all over his face as you stroke his cock at a leisurely pace.

His eyes flutter closed. "Can I be inside you? Please? Don't even have to cum, just-- need to feel you."

"Okay, baby." you kiss his temple and straddle him, lining up your entrance with his prodding cock.

You sink down on him with just a little resistance. His thick cock stretches you so nicely, and he groans at the feel of you clenching around him. For the longest time, you just stay close and warm in each other.

"Do you forgive me?" he looks up at you with slight hesitation.

"Darling, I was never mad at you to begin with," you reassure him with a smile. "You're just.. such a big boy about the whole thing. Coming forward, telling me the truth... I just thought I should treat you like one."

"Don't wanna be a big boy," he all but whines. "Just wanna be yours."

"You are. For as long as you'll have me." you push his stray curls out of his forehead, so you can take a good look at him.

"Really?"

"I promise."

He kisses you briefly, adorably, on the lips, and you kiss him right back. Deep and languid and certain. You don't even notice your slightest shift makes you grip him tighter, but he hisses in pleasure.

"You feel so good, Y/N. Wanna fall asleep like this," he rambles on.

"I don't think that'll be good for either of us," you chuckle in quiet amusement. "Do you wanna cum before we go to sleep, baby?"

He moans a slurred but unmistakable yes almost immediately.

“I got you. I’m right here, baby.” you lazily grind your hips, keeping it slow and sensual. He doesn’t need a hard pounding right now-- all signs point to, well, simply being held and loved by you.

He meets your thrusts halfway, a mess of lips devouring your neck and fingers eager to memorize every inch of your body. Your breasts, your hips. Your clit.

"Fuck..." you moan breathlessly into his neck. "Cum with me, Haz. I got you."

You feel his white hot release spurting inside you, and it sends you squirming and convulsing around him. Pulling him in and holding him close for as long as he desires. Reveling in the closeness and warmth you exhude for each other.

"Haz?" you whisper. "Are you alright, my love?"

He nods, slow and unfocused. "I love you, Y/N."

You kiss his nose. "I love you, too. Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

Before you can get up from him, he puts his hands on your waist and keeps you right there on his lap."In a bit," he says as he snuggles back into you.

#this turned into a THING #impromptu hoe for haz night #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield smut #harrison osterfield blurb #harrison osterfield x reader #sub!haz #ava writes

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itsbeaconhillsbaby · 3 years

Text

the way I love you // tom holland x reader

a/n: hello my lovelies! it’s been a little while since I posted something, this piece has fully been kicking my butt but she’s finally here and I hope you like her even if she is a little rough around the edges. as always, love to know what you think. also, I will do an official post regarding rules but from here until I close them my * REQUESTS ARE OPEN * my 10th piece of writing (WHAT) is a requested piece that I'm so excited to share with you guys and the lovely human who requested it, so stay tuned for that but in the meantime, sending all the love, and I hope you're all staying safe out there, please enjoy! x

word count: 2.1K warning: swearing, lil bit of angst if you squint summary: your best friend tom is helping you move in, but you have a secret and it’s been making things difficult. it’s time to fess up.

The rain thumped against the windows, droplets eagerly chasing each other to the bottom. The wind whistled, branches reaching out as the trees shook. Soft wispy curtains were pulled tight to keep the cold, stormy weather locked outside. Yet the sounds of cars speeding through the flooded roads could still be heard from the storeys above. The room was almost bare, the orange glow of the streetlights casting warm shadows upon the wooden floorboards. A couple of unopened cardboard boxes were stacked up against one wall. One section of the room was lowly lit with battery-operated soft, twinkling fairy lights and flickering candles. The floor was decorated with a few cosy blankets and pillows. Half eaten cartons of sushi sat abandoned alongside a takeaway pizza box full of cheesy crusts. A laptop balanced precariously on one of the boxes, movie already playing. “Happy move-in day,” a voice whispers, just grazing past your ear. You lay on your front on the floor, wrapped up in an exceptionally fluffy blanket. Your best friend is sat semi cross-legged with his knees up, arms hooked around them, the pair of you only a breath apart. You turn your head lazily in his direction, unable to hide the grin from your face as he cocks his head, mimicking you with his own cheesy smile - noses almost touching. “Thanks for helping me out. Have I ever told you that you’re my favourite?” “Oh, not nearly enough.” He nudges your side, wiggling his eyebrows dramatically. You laugh, causing his face to soften at your expression before you focus your attention back to the small screen. Tom frowns slightly as you turn away, keeping his eyes on you as he drinks you in slowly. Your hair was almost completely dry from the rainstorm, and had begun curling at the ends and around your hairline, one piece had fallen across your face which he ached to tuck back into place behind your ear. You had a light flush across your cheeks, eyes shining bright as your face slackened, concentrating on the film. He let out a soft sigh before swallowing, dragging his eyes away from you and back to the movie. **** It hadn’t taken long for you and tom to gravitate closer to each other, a chill making its way through the apartment as you were yet to install a new heating system. You were tucked into his side, head resting gently against his shoulder, breaths synchronising. You shifted slightly, yet Tom kept a protective arm around you. A black screen took over the laptop as the credits started rolling. Tom let out a yawn, rubbing his eyes with one hand as he slowly sat up, bringing you with him. “I better go, it’s late and I have a bunch of meetings tomorrow. Plus you still have unpacking to do…” he teases, collecting some of the empty cartons. You nod, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders and gathering it around your waist as you hit pause on the laptop. Stretching your body out, you could already feel the twinges in your back from sitting on the hard floor. The sky had darkened considerably, storm worsening behind the curtains, rain lashing down hard. You glance across at tom, watching as he steps foot into the kitchen, tiding up the rubbish into a neat pile. You bite your lip slightly as you give him a once over. His hair was unruly, eager for a styling from Rachel as it attempted to curl against his forehead, and you could see where he’d been running his hands through it all day. You loved how relaxed he looked in your presence, allowing himself to be slightly unkempt and messy. You watched his mouth and eyebrows twitch animatedly as he cleaned up the kitchen, the sleeves of his oversized hoodie rolled up his forearms. Suddenly he looked up, eyes directly locking with yours and your felt your face flush. “Stop staring at me you div,” he teased, as his face breaking out into a grin, eyes creasing at the sides, still locked with yours. “Calm down movie star, you ain’t all that,” you laugh nervously, internally berating yourself for getting caught in a trance as you pick up the rest of the rubbish and join Tom in the kitchen, blanket slouched around your shoulders and trailing behind you. Truth was, something had changed during the last film Tom had been away filming for. Tiny butterflies would dance in your stomach whenever your phone pinged with a new message or silly photo he’d sent you. You brushed it off at first, thinking you were just missing his company. But by the time he got back, you felt nervous and giddy around him and everything was weird. It wasn’t until one day you found yourself waking up with a start as he began to infiltrate your dreams when you realised you were feeling very differently for your best friend than you’d ever felt before. “This place is nice, but I still don’t know why you turned us boys down though? Harrison said he asked before I came back and you said no?” he wondered aloud, miming an arrow through his heart as the pair of you make your way downstairs. You laugh at his antics but wrap the blanket that little bit tighter around yourself, finding the floor of your building suddenly extremely interesting. “Don’t tell me you’re sick of us lot already? We’ve been together too long for you to ditch us all now.” He gives you a little nudge in the arm with his elbow. You took a deep breath, shaking your hair out of your face. “I’ll still be round all the time. I literally live on the other side of the park,” you laugh as he pouts, “Tom, it’s not even 20 minutes away.” “Still doesn’t explain why you won’t move in with us?” You sigh, your frustration building. “Just leave it,” you snap, adding a quieter “please” after a beat. There’s a stifling silence as you both walk down the concrete staircase, you twist the mechanical lock on the front door and wait for the buzz as it clicks and opens up to the world outside.

Tom whistles at the torrential storm as he steps outside, trees were bending over, leaves billowing in the wind. The steps up to the building were gathering puddles of water and you could already see the road ahead was beginning to flood.

“Oh my god.”

The pair of you quickly throw the trash into the bin that was sitting at the bottom of some basement level steps.

“Listen, but I only ask because...it’s just, you’ve been a bit off since I came back from Atlanta. if it wasn’t for Harrison telling me he couldn’t make it today, you wouldn’t have even asked me to help you move in? What’s up with that?” he asks, standing behind you, shielding you from as much of the rain as he could.

“I just thought you’d be busy, y’know. What with being away for so long.”

“And? It’s not like that’s ever stopped you before. Seriously though, did I do something wrong? Did the boys? Because you can tell me.”

“Tom it’s nothing. Seriously, quit it.” Avoiding his stare, you shake your head and turn on your heel in an attempt to push the door back open but it stays firmly shut. You twist the handle multiple times as it jangles in response, remaining firmly locked. You freeze in immediate panic, feeling your pockets for your keys which were still sitting on your kitchen counter.

“Oh my god, no. No fucking way.”

“What? What is it?” He reaches a hand over your shoulder and gives the door a shove, “Is it stuck?”

“No tom, it’s locked! The wind must’ve closed it! I’ve left my apartment open and the keys are on the kitch – fuck! I’m such an idiot.”

“Hey it’s fine. Calm down. Hey, maybe if you lived with us we wouldn’t be having this problem…” he joked, pulling off his hoodie as thunder rumbled in the distance, the rain bouncing down onto the two of you.

“Now is really not the time Tom!” You exclaim, feeling your heart-rate spike, anxious about being locked out on your very first day living alone.

“Would you calm down, we’ll sort it. Your doors just unlocked, it’s not like you left it wide open.”

“If you hadn’t been asking so many stupid questions, I wouldn’t have forgotten my keys in the first place!”

“Really?! You’re blaming me for caring about you? Alright listen, I just wanted to know what’s going on with you. I know you, and I know when something’s wrong! Why won't you just tell me?!”

“Oh my god, fine! You want to know so badly? It’s you, okay!” You shout, whirling around now standing chest to chest, you could feel your eyes burning with the tears you were fighting back, “You’re the reason I can’t move in with you guys! Because I hoped that this feeling would go away. If I avoided you it would go away and things would be normal and nothing would change. But that’s not the case!” You gulped in a breath, refusing to look into the deep brown eyes that were staring at you, so wide and confused, “That’s not the case, because every time I’m with you I feel like my heart is going to beat straight out of my chest. I get these stupid knots in my stomach whenever you so much as send me a fucking text. Sitting together in there side by side, alone together, casually watching a film and all I can think about is god, I wish he’d just kiss me! I don’t want to fall in love with you because this,” you gesture between the two of you, “what we are, it’ll all be gone and I’ll have ruined everything. And I can’t Tom. I can’t deal with that. So, there you go. I’m in love with you, and I hate myself for it. So, what? Are you happy now?! Does that clear everything up for you!”

Tom froze.

Your chest heaves, the tears that you let fall mixing in with the rain, leaving you sniffling. You push your soaking wet hair out of your face, roughly wiping your cheeks as you turn and hit the buzzer for the apartment block, banging your fist on the main door.

“C’mon!”

Tom stood silently, still frozen outside your apartment entrance, the rain so heavy it was bouncing off of his clothes. His curls were flattened, droplets dripping from his hair, his nose, his eyelashes. his t-shirt was already drenched by the rain, fabric clinging to his frame. He blinks, once, twice then once more, his jaw unclenching.

He reaches forwards, fingertips lightly caressing your hand, his featherlight touch pulsating through your entire body.

You tear your hand away from him, a gasp letting loose, “Don’t.”

He perseveres, pulling you round, more forcefully this time until you are nose to nose again.

Your body shivers in the cold, wet air as you stare at the ground. Tom’s firm grip around your wrists.

“Look at me,” he says, his voice soft and gentle.

You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head as you exhale breathily.

He lets go of you, your hands curled into small fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms.

One hand lifts your chin to his level, his thumb softly collecting the mixture of tears and rain from beneath your eyes and brushing them away.

“I wish you’d just told me. It would’ve saved you all this hurt.”

His left hand comes up and tucks the soaking wet pieces of hair that has been whipping around your face in the wind gently behind your ear. Stroking the stray strands.

Your teary, glistening eyes connect with his. They were alive with such care and concern. Before you knew it, that feeling was back in the pit of your stomach, pulling and twisting in knots as you stared into the eyes of the boy you loved.

You blinked, eyelashes fluttering when all of a sudden, the hand that had brushed your tears away cradles the side of your head, bringing your faces together, the other hand lightly fluttering to your waist, pulling you in closer.

The rain continued to fall, the two of you completely oblivious as your lips brush, foreheads pressed together. It’s soft and slow, almost uncertain at first before immediately intensifying, the two of you pushing your bodies against each other. You take a breath as he strokes your cheek and your lips with his thumb, pulling you back in for another gentle kiss with a hand to the back of your head, tangling in your soaking hair as he presses your faces closer together.

The pair of you pull away, both your chests heaving as you exhale.

“Why did you do that?” you ask, voice raspy.

“Because. that’s the way I love you. Not just as a friend. And for years, I sat on it, too scared to ruin what we have.” You shake your head, as a couple of bubbles of laughter spill from your lips. Tom’s face brightens up quickly, those little creases that you loved so much appearing at the outward corners of his eyes as he whispered, “C’mere. I got you.”

He pulled you in, your arms immediately wrapping around his waist, his body cold under your hands. You could hear and feel his heartbeat, still in perfect time with your own. He tucked his chin so it was resting atop your head. His arm hadn’t moved, still cradling the back of your head, pressing you ever so carefully into his chest, the two of you just resting in each others embrace as the rain eased up slightly around you.

There was a beat, as you both relaxed into each other.

“So, I'm glad we solved one problem, but you do know we’re still locked out, right?” Tom says as the pair of you burst out laughing.

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagines #tom holland blurb #tom holland fluff #tom holland x y/n #tom x reader #friends to lovers #lisa writes #this has taken me a ridiculously long time and gone through 12483 rewrites istg but I really hope you guys like it #I always get so nervous posting my work AHH

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gureishi · 3 years

Note

Hey there! I can't even put into words how much i adore your writing 💕 Could I request 21 (wanna love you in the daylight) with Saeyoung and a female MC? NSFW would be fine if it's okay with you~

I am absolutely delighted that both of you requested something spicy for this prompt with my favorite boy. And thank you soooo much for saying such kind things! Asks like this really make my day ♡♡♡ Aaaand here is...a scenario I’ve been wanting to write for ages—so thank you for giving me a good reason to finally write it!

wanna love you in the daylight

Saeyoung X Reader, E (smut warning!), Words: 2313

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

Summer—and the sound of the wind whistling through the rolled down windows weaves itself into the music that’s playing at full volume over the radio; and he’s driving fast, like always, the late afternoon sun lighting up his hair a million shades of red and gold and amber. You lean back in the warm leather seat, using one hand to hold your windswept hair off your face. The winding road is long and empty—there’s no one out here but the two of you, and the endless fields of fragrant lavender, and the summer sun. He has one hand on the wheel and the other draped lazily across your thigh, like he left it there by mistake.

You’re not headed anywhere in particular.

You are the one who got him out here in the first place: tugging him behind you, a finger looped through the belt loop of his jeans, shaking your head as he protested that he was in the middle of—he just needed to—

He is always in the middle of something, and usually that something is an excuse to stay inside his big, air-conditioned home with its bright colors and empty rooms. But the air outside today feels like swinging on a swing set and running barefoot through the grass; but you want to see the late summer sunset reflected in his sparkling eyes.

So you are driving to nowhere, fast enough that your heart races—and he is content like this: calm and collected in a way he never seems inside the home that he claims is his sanctuary. He feels safest cooped up in his house—but he feels happiest out here, where he can feel the car’s engine like a mechanical heartbeat and he can make perfect turns at top speed on the curvy road and grin when you scold him for it.

You don’t scold him too much. Because you trust him—because he looks like he thinks he’s flying when he drives this way, and you wouldn’t take that away from him.

“Look at the road,” you tell him now. It’s extending ahead in a straight line—up and over a hill—and he has turned his sunlit head to gaze at you.

“Can’t,” he says. He smiles your favorite half-smile, tilting his head, intense eyes somehow taking in all of you at once. You shiver, because he is looking at you with all the heat of the sun that’s beating down on your bare shoulders.

“Saeyoung.” You try on a stern voice and he laughs softly, the very tip of his pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. Oh, what you would give to be inside his mind for just one single, shimmering second.

“I’ll be good,” he purrs—and he does turn back to the road, with a dramatic toss of his head, as if to show you how serious he is about it. A new song comes on the radio: a softer one, with a beat that matches the sound of the tires on the road and the fingers of the wind in your hair. Just as you are thinking this—and although he is looking ahead now, accelerating over the little hill—his hand begins to creep ever-so-slowly up your thigh.

You shiver again, nibbling your bottom lip. He seems to be radiating energy—his rough, calloused fingers skim under the seam of your skirt, tap tap tapping their way across your leg. They tickle your skin, and you feel squirmy—they dip inward, curving around your thigh, and you’re startled by the desire that pools suddenly—hot and insistent—in the pit of your stomach.

You crest the hill, and he eases up on the gas, letting the car coast downward. He grins coyly; his eyes glitter with concentration.

“This is dangerous,” you tell him—and you know he hears the raspy longing in your voice, because he smiles bigger.

“I’m looking at the road,” he says, his tone honey-sweet. “Just like you told me to.”

Ah—his fingers find your underwear, which is soft and silky smooth. He knows as soon as he feels it that it’s one of his favorites, and he laughs triumphantly. You hear him through a sort of haze: his index flinger flicks against you insistently now, and there are bright sparks edging in around your line of sight.

“Did you pick these out by accident?” he sings. He is too happy with himself, you think—almost drunkenly—reaching clumsily for the door’s leather handle so you can squeeze it. Your toes curl in your shoes. His finger moves quicker—softer.

“‘Course not,” you pant, hating (loving) how easily he has left you helpless. And it wasn’t that you were scheming, dragging him out of the house so he would touch you under the hot summer sun—but it wasn’t as if you hadn’t thought about it, either.

How could you not, when he looks this good in the sunlight, and the air smells like the sound of ice cubes clinking in a tall glass, and the hum of the car makes your skin shiver?

He accelerates.

You whimper, and the sound mingles with the song that’s playing over the radio and the wind whips you hair around and he makes perfect little circles with his fingertip, eyes on the road, grinning because he loves the way you sound when you’re falling apart.

“Saeyoung,” you gasp.

He swings the car around a sudden bend in the road and you know he feels the way your thighs shake because he is going faster, faster—and there are sparkles everywhere, white glitter and blurry lavender and the rumbling of the engine and the specks of gold dancing off his hair as he drives straight into the sun.

He takes his eyes off the road again.

And it is this—the heat in his gaze and the feeling of his fingers against the smooth fabric of your underwear and the way the sunlight strikes his shoulders—that does it.

You can see nothing but glittering gold and blinding light; you know you’re crying out but you can’t quite hear it; and your body feels weightless, like paper—like his finger alone is tying you to the leather seat, and otherwise you would float off into the cloudless sky.

And then sensations return—your toes, curled tightly in your shoes, and your fingers, tense as they clutch the door handle.

You say his name again. His face swims back into view: golden and delightful and—and—

There is something new there, too. His eyes have darkened, and he looks like he’s lost. His hand trembles.

“You are—that was—” His voice is low, and it sends another little spark through through your weightless body. There is a hunger, and a desperation, in the way he watches you now; he looks like he is about a minute from falling apart himself.

“Saeyoung,” you say—louder and firmer than you’d intended. He jumps, like you’ve taken him by surprise. “Pull over.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

With one hand still on your leg—he’s gripping it now, his fingers squeezing hard enough to bruise—he veers off the road, slowing to a near-perfect stop on the grassy shoulder. The car does jolt the tiniest bit—unusual for him—and he lifts his arm from your leg to throw it in front of you, as if he’s going to single-handedly protect you from inertia.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Didn’t mean to—”

“Get out of the car,” you tell him. His eyes flash. You are already undoing your seatbelt, stumbling ungracefully from the car onto the flattened grass around it. But he is quicker than you are—and by the time you’ve shut the door behind you, he is in front of you.

“That was fast,” you say, giggling. Your head still feels hazy, your thoughts swimming lazily through a pool of pleasure.

“God,” he hisses. His hands fall to your waist, and you can feel the bulge in his pants pressing into your hips as he walks you back into the car door. “I really—I want—”

You throw your arms around his neck, and he understands. He lifts you easily, both hands gripping your thighs—and you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you around the front of the car. He peppers desperate kisses over your neck, across your shoulder; with one hand, he touches the hood of the car—and he winces.

“It’s too hot,” he mutters, his teeth sharp against your skin.

“Don’t care,” you say.

He lowers you slowly, cautiously—and it is hot, but not overwhelmingly so. You pull him closer with your legs around his waist and he groans.

“Come here,” you say. The look in his eyes is irresistible—the sounds he is making as you buck your hips up, grinding against him, are intoxicating. You unbutton his pants with one hand, tugging down the zipper.

“Impressive,” he croons.

He slips a hand up your skirt again—his other hand bracing you, holding you in place—and tugs your underwear off in one swift motion. You notice that he sets them carefully beside you; they are one of his favorite pairs, after all.

The sun is just behind him, nearly blinding, and its flames seem to dance in his golden eyes. His fingertip flutters over you again—slips inside you, curling delicately.

“I wanna…” he mumbles, gazing down at you, spread out before him on the hood of his sleek little car. You moan and his hips twitch.

“God,” you say. “Please do.”

He grins, and his smile is as bright as the sun that’s just starting to set over his shoulder. He closes the tiny bit of distance—pulling his jeans and his boxers low on his hips, shivering a little as he feels the heat that’s radiating from the car on his exposed skin.

“Are you sure it’s not too—” he mutters: nervous, now, like you haven’t seen him in a while.

And you’ve said his name all sorts of ways today: as a reprimand; as an exclamation of ecstasy—but now, when you say it, it is a plea.

“Saeyoung.”

He obeys. He always does.

He shifts closer, a mysterious sort of delight dancing in his eyes. He steadies you.

“You—” he says. “You are…”

He thrusts into you, and you never hear the next word, if there is one at all—the blinding sparks are back, bursting in your peripheral vision, and you feel him against you, inside you—his hips tremble, and his hand on your waist is firm. You grab fistfulls of his t-shirt, wanting it off, lacking the mental capacity to get it over his head—and he thrusts into you again (harder, rougher), groaning as you toss your head back and grasp at his skin with needy fingers.

He finds a rhythm: and he is looking at you, still looking at you, fire in his eyes; lips parted, breath coming hard and fast. He is trying to keep it together, you think—and the car is warm beneath you, and the sun is hot on your shoulders, and his skin is tingly, sparking, full of fireworks.

You angle your hips upward, your eyelids fluttering shut, your legs feeling like they are suspended in some thick liquid. You need him, need him…

And he lowers his head to your shoulder—moving faster now, harder—and you wish he would absolutely consume you. You squeeze tighter around him and he understands.

He rocks you back into the hood of the car—and it’s too hot, not hot enough, just right—and the wind blows your hair into your face but you can’t quite feel it, and your toes are numb, and your heart is in his hands, in the air, in the steadily cooling engine and the smoke between you and the flames that dance over his skin.

You say his name again.

And he is shaking—rocking into you faster, faster—his hand on your hip trembling as he groans, biting down on your shoulder.

Losing himself entirely.

Losing.

Lost.

Gone.

The sun begins to set. Slowly, slowly—he stills. Starts to breathe.

And he presses his lips to your shoulder more gently now; he lifts his head. Mindlessly, you tangle a hand in his hair and pull him close. His lips taste like your sunscreen and you can feel the rhythm of his heart in your bones.

“Can’t believe,” he whispers, turning his head to nibble the side of your ear. “Can’t believe we’ve never done it on one of the cars before.”

You laugh; you feel giddy. He pulls away carefully, staring into your face as he tugs his jeans back over his hips.

“You’re always so focused on driving,” you say. He shakes his head, and his hair falls beautifully into his eyes. He leans against the hood of the car, beside you, and you take his hand.

“Not true,” he says.

There are magnificent colors in the sky now—lavender like the flowers all around you, pink and orange and gold.

“You like driving,” you tell him. He laughs, and the sound is radiant—like the way the air tastes.

“Yeah, I like driving,” he says. You turn and find he’s looking at you again—and all the colors of the setting sun are reflected back at you in his magnificent eyes. “But I’m focused on something else.”

He smiles a smile of sunsets and the purr of the engine and the balmy air on your shoulders.

You don’t have to ask him what he means. You, say his fire-colored eyes; and you, says his steady hand in yours. Focused on you.

Every second; every minute; every single day.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

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#mystic messenger #saeyoung choi #707 #saeyoung x reader #707 x reader #gureishi writes requests #anon #crustycrusadesstuff #after it all #spicy spaceship

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binniesthighs · 4 years

Text

what you heard | reader x changjin

a/n: hi. its missing changjin hours also now I am addicted to poly r/ship fics so here is what my brain came up with hehe (pic creds to OPs!)��

what you heard | reader x changjin

Pairing: self insert, hwang hyunjin x gender neutral reader x seo changbin

Genre: smut w/ fluffy tones

Tags: poly r/ship, comfort fic, outdoors sex, friends to lovers, discovery of feelings, idiots in love, with a lil bit of comedy, college au, teehee switch!changbin, switch!hyunjin, switch!reader, they’re all kinda fighting for dominance muhaha (its those bestie vibes ahaha), bratty behavior on all sides, jinnie kinda flips a switch when he gets in the mood (hehe pun intended), spitroasing (r), unprotected sex (stay safe!), sex under the stars hehe, penetration and fingering (r), oral (r & m), face fucking, cumshot, cum eating, that good, good makin’ out, soft and intimate body touching hell yeah, fluffy ending

Word count: 6.8k

Recommended listening: what you heard by Sonder

If there was something that you and your two bestfriends were the best at, it was getting your heart broken.

Hopeless romantics you all were, in one way or another. In fact, it would take even more than your set of three hands to count the number of times that the three of you had come over with a broken heart, seeking ice cream, hugs, or plates to break.

Changbin was the kind to fall in love slowly, but when he did, it consumed him, and everything that he was. He would become convinced that there was no one better for him in the whole world. He would spend sleepless night writing songs and poetry about those who would occupy his mind. Changbin would write love letter after love letter to never send them, or to have them crinkled into papery balls, and slam-dunked into his waste bin. He would often joke that he was ready to love someone, but he just didn’t quite know how to. Under it all, you and Hyunjin knew that he must’ve been scared if they didn’t love him back.

Hyunjin fell in love with people at the drop of a hat. It was his “fatal flaw” as he liked to to joke about too. The gorgeous blond man would fall in love over hearts scribbled on coffee cups, smiles in passing, and compliments on days when he had caught the bus late. This man was the kind to sing love songs loudly in the shower no matter who heard him, and would often have a new crush by the week. Unlike Changbin, he had no fear when it came to confessing, but had even worse luck getting someone to take his words seriously. Hyunjin had too much love to give, and never received enough back.

You, on the other hand, delayed love for as long as you could, no matter how much that you would dream of it. Love came to you in the forms of movies and books, fictional characters and song lyrics. You wrote about the love you had to give in countless journals and on the back of sticky-notes that had been used on the front-side. Love was more of an abstract concept to you. It was never something that you could touch but rather dream about. However, while this wasn’t the worst way to view it all, you still thirsted for something more. A hand to hold, a warm body to tangle up in the sheets with you.

On this day in particular, you and your friends had gathered for a meeting: your “Unofficial Lonely Hearts Club” as you called it. You couldn’t recall who had called the meeting after the long week that you had, but it was likely what each of you had needed.

These nights would often start the same: the three of you shoved into Changbin’s pickup, windows down, night air in your lungs, some song on the stereo that Changbin had been into these days. The three of you lived in the typical college city nestled into the side of some mountainside--a stark contrast to where you had come from before. It was the kind of place where people went to forget about who they were before to become new people. For some reason, some crazy fraction of the people who moved there, never left.

First chance you got, you would move the hell out of there: a place full of so much heartbreak and disappointment…who could dare to stay?

Hyunjin stuck his hand out the window, making little waves with his palm in the wind. You wondered what he had been thinking of that night; if he was sad or if he was happy. After knowing him for nearly four years now, you knew there was nothing in the world that he deserved more than to feel all the warmth that he had conveyed to others. It was a crime that he never got it back.

Changbin’s free arm held to the handle above the car door frame, and he flexed and relaxed his muscles as he hung his fingers there. You too wondered what thoughts floated on his mind: if he was making up lyrics or if he was putting together some grad story or gesture only for it to never see the light of day. He too deserved all the love the world could offer.

Changbin’s car sped up the dirt road to the lookout spot where kids would go to get drunk, high, or possibly both. It was a dreary and empty Wednesday evening, and secretly you hoped that no other rambunctious students would be there to shatter bottles on the craggy rocks. His headlights lit the path ahead, and the car bounced on the rough road with dusty orange rocks. The higher you got to the mountainside, the more static-y the stereo would buzz until soon all that was left were broken lyrics.

There was one spot you liked particularly: it was a ledge that would jut out horizontally, giving a clear view to the whole of the land below: you would see the white lights from the nearby hospital, and the stadium lights from that god-awful football stadium that had sucked up your student loans. Further, you could see river on the edge of the city-line, and how it would ripple in dark blue sparkles under the moonlight.

Your two best friends would grab the blankets that were habitually kept in the backseat made of scratchy wool, but this only made them warmer. Changbin also kept a couple camping lamps in his car to light up the dark space of his cargo bed. The weight of your bodies would shake the space and make the car bounce a bit on its wheels when the three of you would cuddle up between eachother to take in the scene.

On nights like tonight, neither of you would say much, but just look out and feel it all. There was a kind of beauty in the simplicity of the way that everything seemed so still up there, or how time had appeared to stop somewhat. If you were lucky, you could hear the hoot of an owl, or some other critter rustling in the bushes.

Hyunjin was always the one to sit in the middle, and he would take turns resting his head upon your shoulder or Changbin’s sighing deeply into how they would rise and fall. You hugged your knees to yourself and wondered how many more times you would come up here with them, or if after graduation, it would happen at all. It was painful to consider, but you even wondered if they would be in your life at all after everything ended.

“I’m sick of being lonely.” Hyunjin said into the cold air. He shifted, looking both you and your other friend in the eyes. “Its depressing and exhausting.”

“What are you talking bout ‘Jin?” Changbin threw his hoodie over his head.

“I mean moping about people who don’t ever feel the same...feeling sad when it doesn’t go my way...I’m sick of it!! I just wanna like, give up!! Would it be so hard for me to just like, stop feeling??”

“Oh Jinnie...don’t be ridiculous. You can’t just stop falling in love with people. It’s impossible. Not just for you but...” You exhaled out, “...for all of us.”

“Yeeeah, I don’t think that you have much control over that.” Changbin agreed.

“No, seriously!! It’s shit!!”

You wrapped your arms around him lovingly, nuzzling into his shoulder to sooth him, “I know, I know.”

“Aren’t you guys sick of it?? The three of us must be cursed or something.”

Changbin laughed out his little trademark chuckle and ruffled up his friends blond locks. “You’re being dramatic again Hyunjin. It’s not that bad.”

“Psh! Says you who hasn’t gone on a date in months!”

“Hey!!”

You flicked both of your friends on the sides of their heads. “Cut it out, will you? We came up here to relax and forget all that stuff, remember?”

Hyunjin gave out a sign in his exasperation, turning to fiddle with his little Bluetooth speaker that had definitely seen better days. The last crickets of the season chirped in the early fall air, and the little device booted up with the tiny ringtone that you knew well.

“Anything we want to listen to in particular?”

“Whatever you feel like Jinnie.”

The little blue-white light of his phone illuminated his face, and Hyunjin picked a song that you had likely heard dozens of times before. It was from that artist that he had adored to bits, but only really listened to when he was feeling down.

“Oh Jinnie.” You hushed, then wrapped your arm around his wide shoulder. “No one deserves you.”

Changbin let his head fall on the other boy’s shoulder too. When the three of you were close like this with your body heat shared between you, it was cozier than anything imaginable. While you and your two friends weren’t the most touchy of people, there were still times when you could huddle up, and it was no secret that it felt safer than anything.

Hyunjin chuckled a bit, causing his shoulders to shake. “You know what they say in those movies about people who can’t find love after long?”

“What’s that?”

“They say, “By the time that we turn thirty, if neither of us have found love, lets just marry eachother.””

Changbin scoffed, “And you’re bringing this up why?”

“Well, I guess it wouldn’t be the most ridiculous idea if the three of us decided to do that, right? Seeing how the current trend is going?”

You exchanged adoring and teasing glances with Changbin over your adorably naïve friend.

“I think you’re missing something out of that equation Jin.”

His doe-eyes widened, “What’s that?”

“In all of those movies, it was usually two people who made that promise.”

“Two people, three people, what does it matter? As of right now, its looking like the only people that we’ve got is eachother.”

Hyunjin stretched out his hands into his sweater paws and made a little squeak when he cracked his back.

“What do you say?”

“Hm.” Changbin cleared his throat, “So you’re being serious?”

“What’s so crazy about it?” Convinced as ever, he counted out the points on his fingers, “We could all live together like we’ve always talked about, we’ll never be lonely and have someone to do things with, we don’t have to be second guessing ever, waiting for someone to call us back...we all already know eachother really well so there will be no surprises...”

“Oh, so you are being serious about it then?” You ruffled his hair up a bit, just to get a rise out of him like it usually would.

“I mean...it’s not like it would be hard...right?”

Changbin sucked at his teeth, “Mm. I guess not.”

“But isn’t a marriage supposed to be like, having kids, being in love, being...partners?” You added.

Hyunjin stammered with frantic hands, “W-well, we don’t have to do everything!! Marriage is so conventional these days, we don’t have to follow all the rules, especially since there will be the three of us anyway.”

Changbin sighed, casting his head up to the ocean-blue sky dotted with silvery constellations and the red blinking lights of airplanes overhead.

“You’re still forgetting something Jinnie.”

The blond tiled his head.

“The part about being in love?”

The tallest boy shied his hair behind his ear, then tucked his chin into one of the blankets.

“I mean...I know that I love you guys. I wouldn’t mind spending the time...”

Your chest buzzed with warmth hearing your friend say it for the first time. It previously had been somewhat of an unspoken phrase between the three of you, but now that he had said it out loud, it felt even more real.

“Awww, I love you too Jinnie.”

Changbin scoffed once more and picked with the fraying ends of the blanket. “I guess I do too.”

The cargo bed grew silent while the three of you chewed on the idea. The longer you thought about it, it started to make sense bit by bit. After all, through all the confusion and the broken hearts, ice cream and broken plates, your little group understood each other better than most. When there were tears to dry, each of you knew exactly what to do. You had loved them all along, you always had.

“I really love you guys...I think.” Hyunjin finally said, and linked his arms with yours and the other man’s.

“What are you doing getting all cheesy for, huh?” Changbin nudged him with a smirk.

“I don’t know, I guess I just never really thought about it like that before.”

“Like what?”

“Out of all the people that I’ve “loved” I don’t think that I’ve ever loved them like I have with you both.”

“What do you mean?” Under the swath of blankets, your knee nudged against his, and he jumped a bit from the feeling.

Both you and Changbin looked at him attentively and how his lip quivered, and soft eyes glistened from the glow of the lanterns.

“M-maybe all along...I’ve been in love with you?”

“Like, in love, in love?”

“I don’t know...maybe?” He rubbed his eyes like he would’ve had they been lured with sleep. “Maybe I’m just, making things up...I don’t know. It’s getting late.” He laughed out with a tentative breath, “I’m saying things that don’t make sense.”

Changbin looked out at the stretch of city lights as if he was contemplating the idea himself.

“I guess that it wouldn’t be impossible.” He said blankly.

“What!?” You tried to look at both of your best friends as seriously as you could. While your heart started racing, it was as if it was against your will.

“It’s kinda funny,” Changbin began, “The three of us always complain about how love never really comes our way when we’ve already got it...right here.”

Logically speaking, it made sense. You and your two best friends really did know eachother better than anyone else ever had. When you had met as scared little 1st years without a clue in the world how to be your own people. You had figured it all out together. The ways that you had showed love to each other had been a bit different--but it was still all the same. If you were to have not met them all those years ago, your life would’ve been drastically different. You couldn’t even picture it.

Perhaps in all of your little rambles in journals and daydreams, was what you were looking for...them?

“Maybe we were just looking in the wrong place?” You offered, and both of them shrugged.

“It’s possible.” Hyunjin pulled both of your arms closer to him, and rubbed his cheek into the top of your head, then Changbin’s dark curls. He giggled out, tackling the two of you to lay flat on the cargo bed. It crinkled with a plastic sounding thud, then he wrapped his legs up in both of yours the best that he could.

Under his arm, you choked a little from his tight grasp, but you eventually let yourself mold into the curves of his body and soak up his warmth. The scratchy wool tickled at your cold fingers, and you soon felt Changbin’s hand come searching for you under the blanket too. It was a bit startling at first, but he reached out to hold your arm, then rubbed small circles into it with his thumb where you rested them on Hyunjin’s chest.

It was as if he was a bit delirious, but Hyunjin chortled with laugher until he had lost his breath, and his lyrical sounding voice bounced off the cavern of the mountain and echoed up into space.

“Why do I...weirdly...kinda...wanna make out with you guys right now?”

Changbin pinched his friend with a teasing grin, “You mean it?”

Hyunjin pouted with his plush pink lips, “I thought we all just agreed that we were in love with eachother??”

“Jinnie...” You settled your head into the crook of his neck, right by his collarbones.

“Damn. Glad I’m not the only one.” Changbin bit a smirk into his lip, then propped himself up on his forearm to gain better ground on you and the other man.

Your fluttering heart beat it’s way up your throat and into your ears, and your two friends looked at you expectantly.

“O-outside? Right now?”

“Yeah, I guess. Why not?” Changbin traced his thumb and index under Hyunjin’s smooth jaw.

“Aha! So you admit that you want to too!!” Hyunjin beamed and tugged at the sleeves of your own hoodie.

“I-I didn’t say that...”

Hyunjin leaned over on his side to face you. “Y/n, how about lets make a deal. We try it out, see how it feels, if it feels weird, we stop and pretend it never happened?”

“I don’t know Jinnie...this seems pretty friendship ending to me.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Changbin said with a sly grin.

The tallest boy pleaded to you with nearly needy eyes. “I think that it would feel nice? Besides...none of us have really...felt that...in a while.”

Changbin’s creeping hands came surveying over Hyunjin’s deep green pullover, and the other boy shivered out a little feeling the touch.

Hyunjin’s own curious hands reached out to hold both sides of your face gingerly with pink fingertips.

“I know that I’d like to kiss you...if you’ll let me?”

Both of your friends waited for you as you took turns checking with both of them. The whole prospect was unimaginable, but now...with both of them in front of you, both more real than anything you could have ever thought up, it started to make all the sense in the world.

“What do you say?” Hyunjin asked with a dreamy air. It was chilly on that early fall evening, so he tucked up the blankets even higher. It was a simple gesture, but still held multitudes of his care.

“It doesn’t hurt to try...”

You felt your face pulled closer to his, and all at once his warmth flooded your lips. It was a strange feeling your friend’s lips on yours like this, but while it was new, it was comfortable. Your friend relaxed himself over you, smiling with the corners of his mouth, and slowly sucking at your lower lip like he didn’t want to startle you with anything too fast. His glossy lips stuck with his favored strawberry flavored Chapstick, and you only wanted to taste more. He hummed with a little happy sound, and his larger hands nearly covered your whole face where he helped tilt your head a little so that he could gift deeper kisses to it.

Beside him, Changbin shook with a sigh watching the two of you, a different kind of passion growing within him seeing the two of the people that he loved most do something like this. He was a bit unsure at first, but he tucked back his friend’s blonde edges to free the skin of his neck, then sucked little kisses there too. He to was careful, and didn’t want to leave marks, but rather feel the way that Hyunjin’s skin dotted with goosebumps from the feeling and then let kitten-sounding whimpers go from the pressure on his neck.

While the night itself was nearly too cold to bear, the three of your bodies heated instantly, and you nearly felt as if the sweater that kept you warm was even too much. Hyunjin parted his lips slightly to enter your mouth with his tongue, and it was a feeling so indulgent that you tried to hide from your friend how good he could make you feel out of your own embarrassment.

Your name slithered from his lips to yours, and you tucked your hands under his sweater, finding Changbin’s hands there too on the other boy’s bare skin. Hyunjin flinched from feeling both sets of hands on his muscles. His abs flared from the attention, and he accidentally bit into your lip feeling the cold pads of fingers on him.

Now that you had one taste of him your body could only crave more.

Changbin tilted Hyunjin’s gasping and swollen lips to his own where he took his own turn gifting the other boy his affection. Hyunjin pressed his whole chest into the other man in an attempt to get closer and Changbin’s hands splayed across his back to hold him tightly. The two of them giggled a bit as they roughly worked their way around each other’s mouths. Changbin, a little smaller in the other man’s wide and long arms appeared to swim in him, and the two of them melted between the thick fabric of their clothes.

Once more your hands went journeying up Hyunjin’s shirt, and you ran your fingers over every curve and twist of his back: from the little dimples above his hips, his ribs, his sweeping shoulder blades and each swelling bit of fleshy dorsal muscle you could get your hands on. You had never realized how curious you had been for him in this way, but it delighted you to feel him this close.

Legs became anxious under the wool blankets, and tangled up with little regard for personal space, and hips writhed asking for attention that had been kept for them for far too long.

Changbin moved down Hyunjin’s jaw to give him more kisses to his tender neck, sucking harder this time to imprint little purple marks. You had never taken Changbin to be one to do so, but something told you that he was one to take pride in those that he loved, and wanted them to be his only.

“B-Bin...” Hyunjin’s voice wavered, no longer loud enough to bounce off the rocks surrounding you.

From the way that Changbin kissed the other boy, you instantly craved for him to do the same for you. Across the width of your gorgeous blond friend, you tossed around Changbin’s dark and curly strands, and soaked up his warmth to your hand cracking from the cold.

You called out for him too, and found your hips grinding into Hyunjin’s back, becoming more impatient by the moment. The way that both of them touched you, and each other was...different. There was no fear, no heartbreak, no uncertainty or loneliness. When you thought of it later, it was if the three of you could actually heal from it all for the first time.

Changbin’s eyes softened hearing you beg for him, and he helped you slide closer to him.

“Hm. You’re so cute.” He muttered before filling your mouth with his own kisses. Changbin appeared to channel everything that he had in him to give to you--it was no surprise considering the romantic that he was. He was attentive and slow; rough at first, but then melting into something much more infatuating. Hyunjin took his turn swiping his hands up and down your thighs, kneading into the skin, and then tucking up your sweater. He shimmied down your body, pressing soft lips into your belly to make you tremble from the pleasant gesture. He made his way up higher, up to your chest where he exposed even more skin to the cold, but was sure to make up for it by keeping the blankets close.

Changbin swiped his thumb over both of your lips, smiling as he did so.

“Have I ever told you that you’re really breathtaking?” He said with a tone so sultry it was a bit laughable.

“I don’t think so?”

He too took a greedy hand down your chest where Hyunjin nipped lightly, admiring the way that you had looked under the moonlight. He brought his fingers back to your lips, giving you a tiny and accidental taste of his fingertips, then promptly resumed the kisses that you had asked for.

Hyunjin worked his way back up your body, stopping at last to lap lightly into your neck with tiny fleeting love bites and delighted in the way that he could see them fade onto your skin--almost like you and him were a matching set now.

Changbin broke his lips from yours, creating a tiny wet sound with a thin string of his saliva on your your bottom lip.

Hyunjin played with the elastic of your sweatpants, gasping out a bit once he saw your legs rub together in the absence of friction. His eyes wandered slowly to his other friend who had grinded his hips down into the cargo bed with a quivering length.

“Are we about to do what I think we are?” He asked, both thrilled and shocked.

“Seems like it.” Changbin said simply after going to caress the other man’s cheek.

“Damn. I was not expecting this night to go like this.” Your voice shook, either from anticipation, or from the cold--you couldn’t quite tell.

“Me neither...but I’m not mad about it.”

“Friendship offically ruined?” Hyunjin said with a mischievous little smile.

The breeze blew through, wrapped up in the smell of the crisp mountain air. Hyunjin’s little speaker played on with his songs that you still knew the names of. There wasn’t too much light, just the glow from the inside of Changbin’s car and his lanterns, but it was just enough to take in your friends fully--the ones that you had cared for so much, you didn’t even known how much you had. While you would’ve been worried about getting caught on that Wednesday night, this mattered little.

“I’d say so.” You answered, and it was exactly what they had wanted to hear.

The three of you opted to keep your tops on to fight off the elements, but under the covers, you each jiggled off pairs of joggers, jeans and sweatpants. The car bounced once more as the three of you readjusted. As soon as bare legs intertwined and the thin fabric of undergarments got thrown into the mix, you each got louder and more desperate for wandering touches that could quell your desires.

With twisted and oversized socks, Hyunjin straddled both sides of Changbin’s head, letting the other man palm the outline of his dick and squeeze at it harshly until he shivered over the smaller man’s frame.

“Damn Jin...” Changbin groaned seeing the other’s length. “You’ve been packing and didn’t feel like sharing?”

“S-shut up.” Hyunjin whined as the other teased him.

You worked bite after bite down Changbin’s torso, sucking lightly, then harder. After long, you found that it tickled him a little--this knowledge you would save for another time.

He wore baggy boxers which hid the full girth of his dick that swelled with his erection that bopped and only appeared to grow larger once you and released him. Thick veins wrapped around his length, and his tip flared where you grabbed him into your palm.

“I could say the same to you, Bin.” You teased your friend.

Hyunjin turned to see for himself, laughing out, seeing the way that it looked in your smaller hand.

“Bin, what the fuck?”

“...Intimidated are you?”

The other boy tossed his head back, hair getting caught in his hoodie. “No...”

Changbin snapped the elastic to Hyunjin’s briefs just because he liked the sound, then pulled the other’s member out to pump at the considerable length with his fist. The blonde boy choked out a gasp at the strong grip, and Changbin dug his fingers around the other’s waist to bring in him closer.

“What me to suck this pretty dick of yours?”

“Do I even need to answer that question?” Hyunjin snarked.

Further down, you worked your own hand around Changbin’s cock which you had lathered at first with your spit. Obscene sounds of the liquid cupped in your hand, then you worked your mouth down to his gloriously thick thighs. Something overtook you then, and all you wanted to to was ravage them, make them all yours, mark them as yours, and make the quiver all because of you.

Your fingernails dug into the fleshy and squishy skin, and Changbin moaned out forcefully feeling the sting.

“Feels good?” You asked with a wicked grin, then returned to sucking bruises into the inner parts of his thighs.

“You’re gonna...gonna distract me.” He sighed out, still jerking the other boy away.

Hyunjin swiped away the other man’s curly bangs so he could see him fully. He guided his length over Changbin’s mouth, teeth clenched with a tight exhale once he felt the warmth of the other’s tongue lapping up the sides of his shaft.

Your teasing was enough, and you finally granted your friend what he wanted. With a girth as wide as he had, it was somewhat of a challenge, but a challenge that you gleefully expected. He had puffed up your cheeks fully, and you could barely take in half is length without it testing the back of your throat. Still, you focused your breath coming out of your nose, and swallowed him down deeper. Your eyes wetted from the simulation to your gag reflex, but you held on for as long as you could. At last, your wish was granted, and his marked up thighs shook just for you.

“Bin...fuck.” The blond shuddered upon coaxing himself fully into his friend’s mouth. He moaned out sinfully feeling the twist of the other man’s tongue.

To give yourself a moment’s pause, you stopped, gasping over your friend’s slit, teasing your tongue around his head, dipping down to the place where he dripped with beads of precum.

Changbin laughed out breathily, swearing easily and calling out your name too with a rasp to his tone. “S-shit...”

“Getting too distracted?” Hyunjin purred, seeing the other man made a wreck by you. “What about me?”

“S-sorry.” Changbin admitted, wetting his lips and taking back Hyunjin’s cock into his hollowed cheeks.

As you swallowed around him, your friend rutted his hips just slightly, his lust overtaking him.

“Oh fuck, just like that, mm--” Hyunjin cooed, getting lost in his own ecstasy with head thrown back, and his sweater paws melting down to Changbin’s quaking chest where he supported himself.

You worked your hand and mouth up and down around the pulsating vein’s of your best friend’s length, lazily letting him feel your flattened tongue, then switching to let him feel the tightness of your throat.

Hyunjin sighed out heavily as looked down at his friend who had taken him so well. It was almost as if he felt cheated from the crappy head that he had been getting in dirty bathrooms and semi-public dressing rooms. It was dangerous in the way that Changbin would stroke him languidly, then let his drool wet his tip.

Further down your hips, the pent up heat from your own sex ached on the cool plastic of the cargo bed, and you grinded your hips down for any simulation you could get.

The blonde man whimpered out after long, feeling even hazier the longer that Changbin continued on. “Binnie...you’re...feels really--fuck--so, good...”

It was as if the words hand been a trigger for him, but your friend pulled his length for your mouth, panting out like a dog, while also robbing Hyunjin of all feeling.

“Don’t-don’t wanna cum yet...” He laughed out, “I was really fucking close.”

Hyunjin pouted, then turning back and look at you with a bit of your own saliva running down your neck.

“Your turn now.” He nearly whispered, then crawled down the other man’s body to jerk at him lightly.

“Jin! I-I--” He clenched his teeth.

“Lay down, y/n. Is there any way that you want it?”

“A-anything. Anything that you want to do. I-I don’t care.” You begged, falling under his spell.

“Aw. Cute.” He added once he had seen the purple marks on Changbin’s thighs.

You fell back under the two of them, opening yourself up for them to do as they wished. First, Hyunjin crept down your body with as much care as he could--beautiful in the way the he looked close to you like this.

Hyunjin’s hand cascaded down your chest, then belly, all the way down to your own twitching and wetted sex, and you keened directly into his touch.

“Wouldn’t you like my fingers? Filling you up...” He asked softly, finally sinking down far enough so that you could feel his words swirl over your exposed arousal, then pressing light kisses into you. “...as deep as you can take it?”

“Mm-yes.” You squeaked, opening your legs further for him.

Your other friend settled beside you, tilting your chin nearer to him. Just barely, his lips grazed over you, breathing in your air with his hooded eyes glued to your weakened form under the hands of the other boy.

“You’re that excited?” Hyunjin mocked, “We’ve barely touched you.”

“Quit talking and just get to fucking me, got it?” You demanded, mustering all of your strength.

“Oh-ho! I didn’t take you for one to bite back.”

Changbin bit a proud little smile into your lip, wrapping his arms around you. The blond man then toyed with your entrance, licking his fingers, wetting them, then pushed them slowly into your needy hole.

“Ahhh, look at that, so fucking tight around my fingers, You want it that bad?”

His long and lithe digits filled you up where he started to thrust them in and out, using his free hand to push your jolting thighs back. Your right hand traversed it’s way under the blankets which you had readjusted, all the way down to Changbin’s leaking length which still blushed red. You wrapped around him carefully, promising his to lips that you would go easy on him.

As Hyunjin curled his fingers, the other man then reached down to rub at you fervently, matching the pace at which Hyunjin flicked his wrist. Your hips lurched feeling the combination of each sensation, and you cried out loudly for the two of them--the sound itself bounced off that empty space where the three of you existed, almost as if you were calling out for the whole starry sky to hear you.

“I-I think that we were really missing out on something...” You joked with an airy breath and both of your friends joined you.

Changbin’s teeth caught his lip as your hand squeezed and twisted, and you could see with every ounce of restraint that he had, he was holding back.

“Way to make me want to fuck you sideways, huh?” He said with a little grin, observing the size difference between your hand and his member.

Your back arched when Hyunjin reached in even deeper, and you dissolved into the pleasure that he brought you--an amazing kind of all-consuming feeling that shattered your will, and sent you mewling out into your other friends mouth.

“I-I can’t wait anymore,” You begged, clawing right into Hyunjin’s golden trellises.

Changbin scooched up quickly, taking half of the blankets with him, thankfully giving the other boy a nod when he let him be the one to use your entrance. With his brutish hands, he flipped you to your stomach, and hiked up your hips too, cold fingers holding them in place. Hyunjin kneeled permitting you access to his cock which as softened slightly, so he pumped himself back into place with his eyes holding yours.

At first, Changbin teased you with his tip, adding pressure to your twitching hole, then guided himself in bit...by bit.

The blonde tapped his dick to your lips, holding firmly the back of your neck as you took him in and choked out at the way that the other stretched your walls. Changbin grabbed at your ass in handfuls starting slowly, grinding his hips in little circles to simulate you deeper.

“Hm. Who would have known that your pretty little hole would be so perfect for me? Guess we really were missing out on something.”

Hyunjin growled lowly feeling his cock slide down to the back of your throat, brows crossed, and the bottom of his hoodie resting just above his hips.

“Squeeze my leg if it becomes too much, okay? ...I’m gonna fuck your mouth, okay?”

You nodded best you could, and he started to thrust carefully, every few seconds you would hold his member to drag it against the sides of your cheeks, causing him to huff out loudly at the fleshy bits of your mouth.

Changbin quickened his pace, doubling over your back as he lost himself in you, grunting out in his rhythm. From both sides, your best friends used you, resorting to something much more feral as they edged themselves closer. From the motions, the car rocked back and fourth like a bed and it’s headboard.

You too felt the tension build deeply in your core, and it begged with reckless abandon at your dizzy mind that drew itself closer and closer into the feeling of being utterly all theirs.

In many ways, you guessed that you always had been--while it had been unspoken at the time. Now, having the two of them wholly like this under the silver sheen of the moon, the cold biting at your skin, then furiously met with your heat, you could no longer see them as the two broken souls whom you had bonded with at first. They were now everything, everything that you had wished and hoped for.

Even now that you had become much more to each other, there was nothing that could take away the closeness that you had shared with them.

“F-fuck--gonna cum--” Changbin announced while he pounded frantically. The other man rolled his hips into your mouth quicker too, seeking the same kind of release.

“Y/n?” He said with a broken breath, and you muffled out a moan to let him know that you were nearly there too.

“Oh shit, oh shit--”

Changbin grunted out, with a bit of panic to his voice, forcefully removed himself from you seconds before he spilled his white seed onto your hole, then sending it dripping down your leg.

“Oh fuck--s-sorry--” He gasped out, still jerking his cock while he pulsed.

“Bin!! What the fuck??” Hyunjin yelled out, his words quickly turned into mumbles of nonsense when you took him down as deeply as you could manage without gagging, focusing only on him even though your sex ached feeling so empty.

When he had come down after a few moments, Changbin took to fucking your walls once more with his thick fingers, not even caring that he had fucked his white warmth back into you at the same time. Meanwhile, he returned to rubbing of your sensitive flesh, trying to replace the feeling he had robbed you of.

“Cum for me baby, cum for me.”

On cue, you came in waves, shuddering over Changbin’s fingers slicked with his cum, just as your other friend released down your throat and the warm liquid painted your tongue.

His blissful moans turned into light chuckles as he milked himself into your mouth, giving you every last drop. Changbin drove you further, overstimulating you to the point where your knees nearly gave out, and you had to beg him to slow.

After each of your bodies collapsed weakly to the bed of blankets and rejected clothing, you drew the covers back up over yourselves, feeling the cold seep in once more. Both of your friends kissed perfect adoring kisses into your raw lips, tasting the both of themselves on your skin. While your thighs still stuck with your friend’s cum, it didn’t matter as much now that you had huddled up cozily into their arms.

“Bin, you asshole!!” Hyunjin jested, and flicked the other boy’s forehead. “You fucking finished before you were supposed to!!”

“What the hell was I supposed to do?? I’d already edged myself enough!!”

“You could’ve tried!!”

“Whatever, it felt fucking amazing, don’t blame me.” He added with a smug smirk, “You felt fucking amazing, y/n.”

“Did it feel good for you too, y/n?” Hyunjin gingerly asked, falling right back to his soft and adorable composure that you knew well.

“Like Bin said, it was fucking amazing.”

“So we all agree then? We won’t forget that this happened?”

You gave Hyunjin a little nod to say yes, and your group of three hugged eachother even closer. You hadn’t noticed it, but at some point, Hyunjin’s music had turned off.

“So, this means that we’re like, a thing now?” Changbin asked, playing with the drawstring to your hoodie.

You peppered Hyunjin’s forehead with a tiny kiss. “I’d like to be.”

He nuzzled into the crook of your neck and reached out for Changbin across the expanse. “Me too.”

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

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oneofthosesimps · 3 years

Text

Freak like Me

pairing: levi x fem!reader I nsfw

word count: 6230

summary: as soon as the reader enters levi's life, something changes in him. reader's madness spills over and he slowly changes

warnings: mention of blood (not yours), rough sex, dirtytalk, daddy kink, swearing, dom x dom, fight scene

authors note: although i wanted to write shorter stories again, this one somehow got longer again. i tried my hand at an action scene, but i still have to practice a lot. somehow i had strong harley x joker vibes and they had to come out, sorry.

all credits to the artist of this pic:

Lensar on DeviantArt

-----

Your gaze falls into the depths of the forest before you close your eyes. Bright rays of sunlight fall through the branches above you and warm your face. You hear birds chirping around you, the crackling of the wood beneath you, the rustling of leaves swirling in a gust of wind. You breathe deeply as your open hair blows back. You hear your heart beating quietly in your chest as the silence embraces you like an old friend. What does freedom mean? What does life mean? You are sure that this is pretty close to the source. The people behind the wall, who go about their lives every day hoping to see the next day, would never get to see this world. Especially not the people you left behind in the underground.

A grin plays around your lips as you hear the hissing far off in the distance. The trees groan behind you under the force with which the hooks bore into their bark. That took a long time, you think to yourself, as ropes speed past you. You hear the chatter and shouts of your comrades in fragments, shattering the silence around you. Blurred faces shoot past you one after the other.

You spread your arms and stretch them away from you. One last deep breath fills your lungs before you hold your breath. Slowly your body falls backwards before you lose your footing beneath you and plunge headlong into the depths. The air hisses loudly past your ears, your body spins around itself. You are weightless, the green blurs around you before your whole body is pressed full force into your harness and you are yanked back up. You hear the gas sweep around you as you fly through the air, trailing the others. Your hooks bore further away into the trunk of a thick, old tree. You take momentum, flying high into the treetops, letting the ropes come back to you. Unsecured, you fall through space. Your body does a backward roll, allowing you to observe the forest floor for a brief moment. The moss nestles around the roots of the trees, single brown leaves cover the forest path, bodies move forward beneath you, you can still see a squirrel quickly making its way to safety before your body returns to its normal position and you dig your hooks into a tree again. You zip between the trees, your cape flying behind you, your face brushing some branches that bore into your tender skin. You hear the pop of a cannon being fired and see red smoke in the sky northwest of you.

Immediately you change direction, sprinting forward, leaving behind other cadets who still haven't processed what is happening. Arriving in a clearing, you find your place on a thick branch high above. Further in the distance, you see the shaking of trees, the earth shaking slightly, making the grass dance on the ground. You hear heavy footsteps, still moving slowly.

The branch below you moves and you look to your right. Silver eyes stare at you from beneath tousled black hair, eyeing your small body.

"You really do have to keep pushing forward." You hear more bodies land on the trees behind you and the wood weighs down slightly. The rest of your squad waits for instruction from your captain.

"I guess this is why I'll never get my own Squad, sir."

You turn your gaze back to the direction the titan is coming at you from and grin.

"What do you think, fifteen seconds?"

"Mmm, more like ten," Levi guesses, and the tremor intensifies. A huge hand grips around a tree trunk, pulling out from between the trees, and big eyes stare at you. Nearly ten-metres high, abnormal.

"Let's see what you can do then, humanity's strongest soldier." He snorts and rolls his eyes before his whole body moves forward with a jerk. He pulls his swords from their holsters and places them close to his body. With an ease and without the titan even noticing him, he cuts a chunk out of his neck. Before Levi even gets back beside you, the giant falls to the ground and starts to steam.

That wasn't even seven. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, the blood on his face slowly disappears and he looks at you. A small smirk curls his lips, "Brat."

You snort and slam your fist against his shoulder.

Special.

That's the word everyone would use to describe your relationship.

Special.

The first time Levi laid his eyes on you, when he saw you among all the new, shitty cadets, his foot hit your stomach area shortly after. You lacked respect and you lacked punctuality and discipline too. Another pile of shit he had to deal with - or work on until it headed home in tears.

The day after that, he hit your face with his fist. Kneeling on the floor in front of him, panting, you looked up at him. Wiping blood from your lips, you grinned at him and looked at him with wide eyes, your pupils exploding. "That's all you got, sir." Just as he was about to grit his teeth and lunge with his foot to beat the living daylights out of you, Hange stopped him. He tore himself away from her and knelt down to you, looking at you with dead eyes, "I'm going to make your fucking life a living hell." Your tongue licked over your lower lip, wiping away the remaining blood and your grin widened, "Try me."

He kept his word, always picking you out, giving you more tasks, making you run round after round, cleaning the whole headquarters, beating up your little body several times, but to his displeasure you did it all flawlessly. Yes, you lacked respect and also punctuality and discipline, but your performance was amazing, almost close to his. And when he finally saw the potential in you that Erwin had been talking about all along, it suddenly stopped - he left you alone, saw you with different eyes. Something changed in him, as if a plug had been pulled. You watched each other across the field during training, in mess hall at dinner, every spare minute your eyes spent on each other and gradually butterflies crept into the pit of your stomach. And you had the feeling that behind the cold silver there was something deep and dark that you wanted to bring to the surface. Your exchanges were still kept to a minimum, however, until there was another bang.

"That's the stupidest plan I've heard in a long time," you snort, raising an eyebrow.

"Excuse me, brat?" You roll your eyes and stare at him just as coldly as it hits you. The temperature in the room drops noticeably and the others at the table hold their breath. No one dares to say anything. No one would dare say anything. The moonlight from outside shines in, the candles in the room flicker slightly and trace sharp edges on your faces.

"That's the stupidest plan I've heard in a long time," you repeat louder, "Better, sir?"

Levi's eyes blaze and he stares at you. His eyebrows draw together, the corners of his mouth drop. You see Armin open his mouth speechlessly to your right.

Your hairs stand up, the electricity rises and you bite your lower lip, grinning.

"You doubt my plan?" says Levi low and monotone. Jean's hand lands on your shoulder and he grips it, pressing you into your seat to save you from your own stupidity, but it wasn't you who was stupid, it was the whole plan Levi had just explained to you.

"Not only do I doubt it, but I also have a better one," your grin widens as Levi's liquid silver darkens. "Let me fight on the front lines. Mikasa is good, but I'm better".

"For that, you're an incorrigible little bitch who won't listen to my orders".

"Yes, because my plans usually make more sense".

"You're not ready for that. Your cluelessness only makes you run from one titan to another. That statement alone shows me how small your brain is if you're not even aware of it and now shut your mouth."

Jean's grip tightens, but you just push his hand away from you. After your next blink, your heart jumps a tiny bit as you see Levi's annoyed face. He is always good at holding back his anger and it never shows. In fact, he almost never shows any emotion, but you see right through him. He has it bubbling up inside him. Never contradicts him and if he does, the person suffers a thousand deaths afterwards. But between you it is somehow different, tingling. It gives you the greatest pleasure to see him like this and you know, deep inside him, a voice is telling him that he enjoys it too. Others would describe you as crazy and full of the courage to live, but that's what makes it all so appealing.

"Maybe we can find a compromise?" suggests Armin and you see the sweat on his brow as he almost shits himself at the words. You roll your eyes and look back at Levi.

"I thought you wanted to make my life hell. So that's a good start," you remind him of the first words he ever said to you.

"Your plans are bullshit. If I let you keep fighting up front, you'll probably get yourself killed by your insanity, " he growls, almost at his limit. But only almost.

You lean over slightly, look at him, smile slightly, grin, bite your lip again, breathe, "I have a feeling you like this madness, Levi."

He tenses slightly, draws his eyebrows together again as his name passes your lips. Connie coughs and tries to draw attention to himself, but everyone ignores him. It seems like everyone is in a state of shock because you simply addressed him by his first name. Everyone watches spellbound as you literally eye-fuck each other. Do they like the show? Almost at his limit.

"Tch, what did you just call me, brat?" his voice gets louder and his hands form into fists. You lean back in your chair again and look at him, bored.

"Oh, I didn't know you had such bad hearing. Don't you like Levi? That's your name, isn't it? Do you prefer Sir? Or Captain? Or maybe," your eyes looked up at him, burning into him, "Daddy?" At his limit. Pathetic.

A deep dark sound comes from his throat and the others hold their breath again. His whole posture grows stronger and wider. You see the muscles working under his clothes, see veins popping on his hand and you feel butterflies in your stomach. His eyes are black. You all sit like that for a few seconds. You watch his gestures and his face change emotions. Without warning, his right hand hits the table flat, "Fuck off."

The sound cuts through the silence and the weaklings among you flinch. Confused, no one moves, while your eyes do not leave each other's. Armin is about to open his mouth and Jean is about to put his hand on your shoulder again when Levi stands up with a jerk, his chair tipping backwards and hitting the wooden floor with a thud.

"I said fuck off," he roars, looking around with a death glare.

Chairs squeak, footsteps run across the wooden floor, making it creak.

"What have you done now?" whispers Jean in your ear and you give him a look before he walks behind the others and the door closes.

The scene stops again and you stare at Levi. Both hands flat on the table in front of him, leaning on his arms and looking down, he stands there. You can no longer see his eyes as his long black strands fall into his face, but you notice his tense jaw. Your heart leaps again. He was so handsome. Especially when he was angry. Finally, you break the silence.

"Great, now you've scared everyone," you sigh and roll your eyes.

"What are you doing?", Levi hisses back at you, spitting venom and bile, finally raising his head. His eyes blaze again and your core drips.

"I don't know what you mean."

"You know your place, so start acting like it, you piece of shit."

"I wish my place was naked in front of you." Before Levi has taken in what you've said, you stand up, pushing the chair back a little as you do so, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go to sleep too. The day was exhausting and I need to rest to be fit for the expedition. So, I can sit my ass off nicely in midfield."

You turn away from him and your heart slips slightly into your pants. Never turn your back on the enemy. "But of course, it makes much more sense for Mikasa to fight in front and me in the back. Makes sense."

You can take two steps as his hand wraps firmly around your wrist. He squeezes too tightly, hurting you, and you grin again.

"Repeat what you said." His voice is so low it sends a shiver down your spine. Your expression changes and, playfully annoyed, you turn to face him.

"Do you mean the part where I explained that I was going to sit my ass off." He growls and you almost groan. The tension was heavy and hot.

"Stop playing games. My patience is running out."

You lick your lower lip again, wetting it before biting down on it. "I know this isn't about the fucking mission," Levi looks at your mouth. You take a step closer to him, looking up at him from below. "I wish my place was naked in front of you, Daddy," you breathe.

In that split second, his lips land on yours. Two forces of nature collide and you almost topple backwards. His arm wraps tightly around your waist, pulling you against him, and you finally moan. He bites your lower lip hard and you open your mouth in pain. He takes the opportunity to dig his tongue deep between your lips. He presses himself against your body and you slam into the wall behind you. A pain runs through your head as your tongues circle each other, fighting to see who has the upper hand. Your hands go into his hair, reaching deep into his mane, and you pull his head closer to you. Big hands grip your waist and he lifts you up with ease so you can wrap your legs around him. His hands travel under your thighs, squeezing the flesh before he drills them into the fat of your ass. Your teeth collide as you drill your tongue deeper into his mouth, exploring his mouth cavity. He releases the kiss and a thread of spit connects you. You lay your head back and lick over your swollen, sore lips as he places his mouth on your vein, kissing your pulse before licking along it.

"Took you long enough to finally decide to fuck me."

"Shut your mouth, brat," he breathes against your neck before biting into it and sucking on it.

"I swear, if you leave hickeys ..." you groan.

"What then? Are you going to hit me with your little fists?"

"You mean like you did to me all those times? Nah, I'm not an asshole like you. But you probably secretly get off on it."

He bites your neck, just above your pulse, and your head slams back against the wall behind you, making you see stars. He smirks as his nails dig into you and you claw into his shirt. Your panties are completely wet and your juice leaks out of you incessantly. You moan loudly as his teeth dig deeper into your flesh. This was far too good to be true. Your left hand goes into his hair again, you pull at the strands and tear him away from you. He makes a face and you press your lips to his again, biting his lower lip until you taste blood. He gasps and pushes your head away from him, "You're crazy."

You grin broadly at him. "We've been over this," you lick his lower lip apologetically, "and I can see you like it." His gaze is on your face as you wrap your arms around him. "You like crazy, you will stick your dick in crazy." A dark sound escapes him and your nails run over his neck. "You can't even argue with me, you want to fuck this crazy bitch so badly."

His lips land on yours again and you grin against him before moaning into his mouth as he presses you tighter against the wall. His hands leave your ass, skimming up the sides of your waist before moving forward to your chest. Two of his fingers find their way along between the buttons, stroking the sensitive skin. Your belly grows warm with the butterflies inside him. You wrap your legs tighter around his waist and run your hand under the fabric of his shirt at the nape of his neck, running it over the muscles of his shoulders and it shakes you with pleasure.

His strong hands grip the fabric of your blouse and without warning, he rips the front apart, sending the buttons flying across the room. You bite your lip as his arms fall around your waist to hold you in place. "You shouldn't have taken your anger out on my blouse," you moan as he kisses the bulge above your right collarbone and licks along it.

"Would you rather I took it out on you?" he murmurs as he bites into that thin skin too, sucking on it and sure to leave a hickey.

"Yes, I don't know you any different."

He continues to lick forward, kissing the ridge at the end of your neck, licking over a mole at the beginning of the mound of your breast. His right hand comes away from your waist, grips your left breast and kneads it. You claw into his shoulders, leaving marks as he pushes the cup off it and you feel his hand skin on skin. Almost painfully, he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and you push your back through, coming to meet him.

"Mmm, you like that?" he murmurs and you can hear his grin.

"I never thought you'd be this good at it," you mock, before you make a grimace and groan. Pain runs through you as he bites down on your nipple and then his lips wrap around it and he sucks on it. The sensation extends to your fingertips and your toes, coursing through your whole body. You close your eyes, savouring and moaning his name as he bites into it again. He sucks harder on it, lifting his head slightly and releasing it with a plop. He circles your nipple with his tongue and licks it slowly and pleasurably. The knot in your stomach tightens and your head is fogged.

"More," you moan into the room. You tug at the piece of fabric covering him and press your core tighter against him.

"Don't be so impatient, idiot."

"I'm not impatient, you're just slow."

He pulls your whole body down a bit, pressing his bulge into your centre. You curse because the fabric between you is annoying and rub against him greedily.

"Slowly then?" he purrs against your ear and comes towards you, rubbing against you too, "I'll keep that in mind." He grips you again and lifts you away from the wall. You let yourself fall against him and moan against his neck, licking it as you continue to try and build pressure.

Shortly after, your bottom touches the table and he releases your weight. You seize the opportunity and do the same to him, yanking him out of his shirt.

"Tch, but I'm venting my anger," he leans over you, capturing your lips again. Immediately your tongues meet. Greedily your fingers touch his body, stroking his soft skin beneath your fingers, feeling individual scars over, which you let your thumb wander. You caress each and every muscle and gape at his well-built body. He surpasses every single one of your fantasies that you imagined while he was training or just cleaning. You follow his muscles down to the V of his pelvis and a deep moan comes over him as you undo the buckle of his belt. His hands also find their way to your trousers, undoing them, and he releases the kiss. He goes to the floor, kneels in front of the table where you are still sitting and looks up at you. Slowly he takes off your boots without taking his eyes off you. You watch him spellbound, a grin falling on your lips again. He pulls at your trouser legs and you lift your bottom, helping a little so that he can brush the fabric off your legs.

His hands run over your feet and you shake yourself slightly before he kisses them.

"Mmm," you moan, "I could see you like this more often, Captain." You bite your lower lip as his hands slide along your legs. Again, and again his lip or tongue hits your skin, caressing it and you are sure you would leave a stain on the neatly cleaned table. At the latest, when his lips lick the insides of your thighs, your hands clasp the edge of the table. You groan and your right hand goes into his hair, claws into it. His hands settle on your legs, pushing them apart, and his warm breath touches your core. He looks at the dark fabric separating his face from your lower lips and licks his lips. How will you taste? There is a distinct stain, your juice colours the fabric a shade blacker and his hard cock presses against his still closed trousers. He draws in the air around him and he groans. You smell so incredibly good, how much he'd like to taste you. How much he would like to fuck you.

When you notice his fingers gently stroking your pussy and he grips the fabric to pull it aside, you moan again and pull on his head.

Painfully he is pulled back and you close your legs.

"What are you doing, idiot?" he gasps in annoyance, his face contorting at the sting.

"I don't feel like playing this time," you murmur, grinning. "My patience is wearing thin," you repeat his words from earlier, "I don't feel like waiting anymore."

You press your toes against his chest and push him backwards. He is slightly off balance, staggers and falls into the chair behind him.

"Unzip your pants already", you stand up and your hands each rest on the back of the chair next to his head, your breasts dangling in his face, "Go ahead".

Completely caught off guard, he undoes the button and then the zip. You grin again and lean forward towards him. Your lips meet his jaw, kissing along it to his ear and you put your mouth to the shell of his ear, "And now you take out your big cock."

He growls slightly and does as you command. Your gaze falls briefly on his hard erection and a shiver comes over you, your butterflies dancing inside you.

"That's much better, isn't it, Daddy?" you see his Adam's apple dangle as he swallows hard and you look into his eyes. You place one leg on each side of his body. Your hands slide from the back of the chair to his shoulders and you claw into them. Still covered with a piece of cloth, you rub your cunt over his hard cock, which presses against it. You moan and he does the same, putting his hands on your waist and squeezing. His eyes close and he puts his head back in his neck, "Do it already."

"Anything my daddy wants," your hand grips the thin fabric and pulls it aside. Drops of your juice hit him, mixing with his precum and you rub it along your slit before gripping his shaft and sliding his thick tip inside you.

Never would you have expected him to be so big. Your walls press tightly against him as he slides inch by inch into you. Your eyebrows draw together because it feels so good. Levi gasps slightly beneath you as you swallow him slowly.

"You're huge," you sigh contentedly as he's fully inside you, and you twitch your walls, his fingers buried deep in the flesh of your waist. His jaw seems tense, but his eyes look at you half-closed. His irises are no longer visible. "God, so fucking huge. We should have done this so much sooner. I think it's tearing me apart," you grin wide and happy as you feel a slight burn.

"If I had known how good you looked doing that, I would have fucked you sooner."

"Yeah, would you have?" you look deep into his eyes as you move upwards, his cock sliding completely out of you and you lower yourself back down onto him, "Do you like the way I ride your cock?" Your movements slowly quicken and you hear the smacking of your cunt as it swallows his cock again and again.

"Do you like the way your thick cock keeps digging deep into me?" He growls out and starts to come towards you. His hips thrust upwards, hitting you hard. As he does, you don't part your gaze for a second and it feels like you can glimpse his soul.

"Do you like the way my cunt milks you?" Levi digs one hand into the fat of your ass, pulling on it and baring his teeth. You dig your nails into his back as he changes the angle and bumps against your G-spot. The sounds of his balls hitting your ass and the mixing of your fluids grow louder. You become incredibly hot and start to sweat.

"Do you like the way I moan your name?" you add a long Levi at the last word and he stares at you like you're a goddess. His goddess.

"Fuck, you're so hot," he murmurs in a dry, heavy voice.

"That you ever thought otherwise hurts my heart." You ram your fingernails deeper into his back and pull at the skin, leaving deep marks.

"I'll never think anything else again," he groans up at you. By now you are no longer riding him. Instead, he holds you in place above him, your feet no longer even touching the ground, and he thrusts into you with a brutality that leaves you breathless. The knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter and you bite his shoulder to stifle a scream. He fucks you like a madman, pressing his body hard against yours and enjoying the feel of your hard nipples against his chest. He tries to get even deeper, to push against your cervix, but the position is too shitty for that.

"That won't do," he groans, suddenly lifting you up. With his pants at his ankles and you in his arms, he walks back to the table, lays you down on it ungently and buries himself in you again. He grips your legs with his hands, rests them on his shoulders and increases his speed further. He fucks you into the hard wood of the table and puts his head back, moaning your name loudly. He comes so far inside you, you feel pain deep inside you. Such good pain.

"God, your cunt is so tight. I never want to feel anything else ever again." You open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out. Your breath has long left your lungs and your brain can't make anything up. Your little body is concentrating solely on how his fat cock is being pushed into you, how he is tearing your little hole in two and how incredible this feeling is. Because of this, you just mumble something to yourself, which makes him grin, "Suddenly I guess your mouth isn't so big anymore." Again, you try to say something, but it is in vain. Your head is full of fog and all you can think about is how he should thrust harder, even deeper, which is no longer possible, and how he should take you. You want him to ruin you, for everything and everyone. Every night he should do this to you so that you can never stand or sit again. You just want to be his little plaything.

"Good to know I can shut you up like this." His cock hits your G-spot hard and makes you see stars. You moan loudly and reach for something to claw into, but there's nothing. "Alright, I guess silent isn't quite the right word".

He's fucking you so well and you glare at him as he stares at you and you bite your lip, your breathing becoming more uncontrolled and you nod slightly at him to signal how close you are. He grins and you push your back through as he thrusts into you one last time and you explode, screaming his name and losing your grip on the earth.

That was probably the beginning of your death - and probably that of every other - but who knows for sure. The two of you were quite a force on your own, but as a duo you were invincible. Soon, word got out about what had happened. You could have tried to deny it, but it wasn't difficult to guess, since you were ever the only person allowed to disobey Levi and get away alive. Moreover, your loud moans could be heard throughout the building. Everyone should know that you now belong to each other. Your madness spilled over onto him. You had nothing left to lose - except each other and you swore you would only leave this hell together.

"Listen up, shitheads," Levi turns his attention to the people behind you and you follow his gaze, "we're going to do another round and secure the perimeter before we set up camp here for the night."

"Yes, sir," everyone but you shouts in unison and salutes. You roll your eyes.

Your gaze, on the other hand, averts and you direct it to the trees around you. The birdsong has died down and the wind has receded. The branch beneath you sways slightly again as Armin lands on it and turns to talk to Levi. You ignore them both and continue to look around. No wind, but the leaves sway back and forth. You close your eyes and concentrate. Far in the distance you can hear a river making its way through the ground. There is a faint smell of wet moss and it is all so peaceful. Far away you hear the tapping of a woodpecker looking for its food before it suddenly stops. You tear your eyes open and clutch the handles of your equipment. A moment later you see the bird fluttering overhead with a loud bird song. Your eyes fall on Levi and over Armin's shoulder he looks at you. He raises an eyebrow before your typical grin falls to your lips and his expression slips.

You shoot your hooks, which bore into a tree and you fly away. Behind you, you hear the shouting of others and more gas being consumed as you make your way through the forest. You build up speed and zoom past the many trees. You race in the direction from which you just heard the woodpecker. You hear a stomping sound that gets louder and louder the closer you get to it, before you see two huge figures running past you on your left. You didn't expect two, but that only means one more point on your kill scale. Your hands grip the handles of your 3DMG tighter and adrenaline rushes through your bloodstream. You draw in a deep breath through your nose as you suddenly change direction and race towards them. In the distance, you catch sight of your squad and see Levi racing ahead of them after you. He is stronger than you, but you are faster. He has left the squad behind with ease and does not look happy. His rage-filled face makes you feel like you're on fire and a shiver runs down your spine.

"Sorry," you shout loudly to them as you fly through the air and your hook bores into a titan's shoulder. You hear Levi yell your name, but you ignore him. Unfortunately, this distracts the two titans and they notice you. They stop and look around before spotting Levi.

The smaller titan is just under eight metres tall, the other about two metres taller, both of course abnormal. You whirl around the larger one and draw your swords, placing them against your small body, ready for battle. You hiss at his neck, but while he has not yet set his sights on you, the smaller one turns his attention to you and looks at you with wide eyes. He reaches out his hand to you. You curse loudly and drill your hook into a tree above you to get away from him quickly. It is just enough that when he closes his hand, you are not caught in it. Instead, your sole touches his huge finger and you push off against him in addition to putting more land between him and you. On the other side of the field, you see Levi whirling through the air, attracting the little titan's attention. He puts up his swords ready to fight, but you are quicker, get in his way and cut the titan's neck with a smooth slice. The first titan goes down, begins to steam and you are left with the larger one. As you fly through the air, you drill your hooks into his arm and pull yourself towards him. Just before you get on top of him you change direction and fly towards his shoulder. The titan looks around and tries to spot you again, but you are too fast. The next time your hooks hit a tree in the distance. You fly towards his neck, your swords just setting when your ropes suddenly loosen. The titan has lashed out, ripping them out of the tree. You tear open your eyes, more adrenaline finding its way into your bloodstream, your heart pounding against your chest. For the moment, your course is not altered, so your cut glides through him perfectly and he falls slowly to the ground. But you fall with him. You try to drill your hooks back into a tree, but apparently, he has damaged your equipment, so nothing happens. Panic shoots into your head as you get closer and closer to the ground. You close your eyes and brace yourself for impact before you hit the ground. Your air is ripped from your lungs, your body aches under the contact and the wind flies around your ears. You cling to the body against you and rest your head against its neck. Black tea and lemon. As soon as your feet touch ground, he sets you down and pushes you off him. You stagger back and see the faces of the rest of your comrades, who look at you in horror.

"What was that about, you retard?!" snarls Levi at you, and you see his tense jaw and the deep creases on his forehead, his lips pressed hatefully into a line, as he presses his eyebrows together.

"I don't know what you're upset about. I had the situation under control." You pat the dirt off your clothes, hoping he doesn't see your slightly wobbly legs. You take a deep breath and look up at him. That was more action than you planned. To be honest, the situation got out of hand, but you would never admit that - especially not in front of Levi.

"Under control?! You call that under control! You disobeyed my order!" he yells at the whole forest and you see Krista wince.

"I killed them, what more do you want? If you hadn't come, I would have finished faster."

"He almost killed you!"

"Right, almost," you grin at him and undo the straps of your equipment, letting it fall to the floor. It is no longer of any use and simply means more burden that you would have to carry around with you. You kick it lightly and it rattles. Everyone seems shocked, and Levi clenches his hands into fists. You bite your lower lip, "You were there, weren't you?"

"Yeah, but I'm not always, maron!"

"Yeah, and I'm good at taking care of myself in those moments," you stride towards him and place your hands on his tense chest, "Daddy."

You wink at him and the others almost skin it at your words. Eren is probably already thinking about running away before Levi takes his anger out on him. You stroke his shirt and he stares at you. His anger is immeasurable, but you can see something else mingling in his gaze and he relaxes slightly.

"You'll pay for that later," he murmurs and you lick your lips.

"I expected nothing less."

#levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi x y/n #levi x you #levi heichou #attack on titan #aot #snk #smut

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mangospams · 3 years

Note

Ok, so like this is a bit long but bare with me:

Yandere!Dabi who thought that live was just some straight-up bullshit that people talked about , that all of it was just lust and who never ever had time for that.

Yandere!Dabi who is also virgin!dabi, and thinks- no knows that no one would ever want him, because whenever he looks at his scars, he thinks that they are hideous, that it is disgusting, that the only thing that keeps him from falling apart are those cheap ass staples that aren’t properly put together, that he applied when he run away from home with barely any experience of the outside world, that wherever he goes the smell of burnt skin follows, because that what he knows its true, what he believes is true, what he was taught from that sperm donor who dares call himself a father- a hero.

Yandere!Dabi who knows that he don’t deserve anything, that he is too selfish to know or care about anyone or anything but his goal.

Yandere!dabi who expects you to scream, sneer in disgust or anything when you bump into him in an alleyway all bloodied up from a son of a bitch that managed to tear away his staples, that expect you to scream bloody murder about the big bad villain, that expect you to call the police, or a hero— anyone.

But instead, you fuss around in your bag for some alcohol and bandages, that you—are his biggest fan ( simp ) from the real world, that you weren’t granted the gift of a quirk when you were transported into this world, that you didn’t want to— promised yourself that you won’t interfere with the story-line— but how could you?

How could you leave the one person ( fictional or not ) that helped you through rough times, when things got too tense, when things became too overwhelming, with school, work, and with c0vid, when your parents were being too much of an assholes, when that one toxic friend became too much and you had to cut them off?

When you had cried, sobbed, at his past? When you felt your heart and world tear apart for him? When you had admired him for oh so long? For all the shit that he went through? For all the shit that he had endured? For all the shit that he didn’t deserve?!

So, when you find him in an alleyway all alone and bloodied up, at the brink of death, you just HAD to help him, you banged him, and carried him to your house ( that maybe you didn’t have a quirk, but you had material arts, medical knowledge and a gun—lots of them ), helped him recover and nursed him to health.

And when yandere!dabi wakes up, to an unfamiliar ceiling, he is on edge, he is ready to blast whatever mf decided it was a good idea to kidnap him, but when he sees you—oh sweet innocent you on a chair nearby, sleeping soundly, eye-bags around your eyes, and he is the cause of that, that you nursed him to health, that the fresh pair of staples on his body feels less painful, and that the thing that sparked in his heart was unfamiliar— hope, faith, love?

He doesn’t know what to call it, but maybe just maybe there is a chance for him, and maybe just maybe that chance is with you…

-💅🏼

( sorry, this was long- its my first time writing this let alone sending it to someone, also English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for any errors )

Oh gosh this is so long, I wish I could respond to everything because I absolutely love this idea!!! I love the trope of the darling being from our world, being transported to the BNHA world 🥺🥺 ‘Because of his bleeding, he basically passed out before you could do anything. You just throw his arm around you and yours around him, trying to hobble back to your apartment. It takes a while though, considering your pulling Dabi with you

He wakes up, freaking out until he sees you. When it hits him that you helped him, he’s immediately in love. He’s never had anyone care about him before so know that you have? Oh he’s never letting you go

He actually picks you up of the chair your sleeping on, putting you into your bed. Definitely writes a tiny note for you when you wake up, it’s a tiny torn piece of paper that just says thank you and see you later on it

Also he’s never taking out the staples that you put in while nursing him. They don’t match his other ones but he doesn’t care. He’s not replacing them 💖

Also don’t worry about your grammar, darling, English isn’t my first language either. You did good, no need to apologize 🥺🥺🥺

#mango speaks #mango answers #🥭🥭🥭#💅🏼 anon #yandere dabi

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hazzoranstories · 4 years

Text

Elijah Mikaelson x Reader One-Shot | Thoughts That Consume

________________________________________________________________________________

Includes: Triggering, attempted suicide, angst, and breakdown

________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Inspired by personal experiences. I know an imagine like this is not for everyone and sometimes can increase certain mental issues, so read at your own risk.

Another sob wrenched across my body. I couldn't breathe through my nose, and my mouth was dry with chapped lips. My shaky tongue went over them to try and moist them up, but it only made it worse. Elijah had always told me never to lick my lips, but I still did it anyway. The buzzing of my phone made me jump in the air and immediately hit decline. Not even checking to see who it was. I picked up the pen I dropped from how startled I was and looked back to the blank piece of paper.

I couldn't decide what to write. Where would I start? How do thousands of people do this? If thousands of people could write a suicide note, then I could, right? My phone rang again, but this time I didn't flinch and merely looked at the caller ID. Nik. I didn't know why or my reasoning, but I hit the accept button and put it on speakerphone.

"What, Nik?" I asked, trying to contain my cries to make it seem like I was fine.

"Why didn't you answer my first call?" the hybrid snapped, causing me to wince.

I didn't answer so he had to call my name. "Oh, that was you? Sorry," a tear fell from my eyes.

"Yeah, it was me. Elijah was forcing me to call you to say we aren't coming home for another hour or so. Kol is causing some ruckus and flirting with the bartender," I could hear the annoyance seeping from his voice, and I considered it to be directed towards me. I bit my lip to hold back a sob.

"Okay. That's fine. Keep Kol under control but have fun, Nik. Tell Elijah I love him," my voice broke as I hung up eagerly. I sniffed and glanced down at the item on the bathroom counter. A gun filled with wooden bullets that Elijah gave me for protection. That was the only weapon in the house beside a dagger and white oak stake, and this seemed like the fastest and least painful way to go.

When I finally finished my note a few minutes later, I read it over and over again. I'm sorry, Elijah. You deserved much better. I couldn't think of anything else to write other than something short, so I left it. With tears making rivers down my face, my trembling hand wrapped around the grip of the revolver.

For the last time, my phone began buzzing. This time it was Rebekah. She and Hayley were out shopping with Hope, so I was home alone. I answered it and this time put it to my ear. "What do you Mikaelsons want?! Can't I have a night by myself!" I yelled through the line.

"God, Y/N. I just called to see if you were okay. Nik gave me a weird call about you, and Elijah got worried --"

"Well then, why doesn't he just call me himself?" It was at the perfect timing when my phone rang again and saw it was Elijah. "I gotta go, Rebekah," I hung up on the Mikaelson girl in exchange for my boyfriend.

"What?" I whined and looked down at the gun in my hands.

"Y/N, I'm leaving Niklaus to deal with Kol and coming home," he raced out; I could hear him walking through the bar the brothers were at.

"Why?"

"Because I want to see you."

"If this is about the call I gave to Nik --"

"No, I want to see you."

My anxiety increased, and my palms got sweaty. "Stay there, Eli. I bet Kol will cooperate soon," I said swiftly.

"Why don't you want me to leave?" Elijah questioned with a certain edge that stuck out. I placed my phone in between my shoulder and ear and took a shaky breath. I cocked the gun in my wet hands, which caused Elijah to snap alert, "Y/N, what was that?"

"Elijah . . . . I know that you could speed over here in seconds, but please, I'm begging you not to."

"Y/N, what's going on," he asked, and my lip quivered.

"I'm in Nik's master bathroom. Let's hope that we see each other again one day," I whispered and heard Elijah's breathing get heavy.

"Y/N, stop whatever you're going to do. Just listen to my voice and calm down --"

"You think I would calm down if I could!" I cut him off. My sudden anger made me put the gun to my temple, rolling one of the wooden bullets to load it.

"Look, I know you're hurting right now but killing yourself won't take that pain away --"

"Yes, it will, Eli."

"-- It'll only cause the people who care about you to feel broken. If you die now, then I won't be able to live with myself, and I'll probably do the same," I could tell that Elijah was trying to hold back tears.

"Then we can be together," I replied.

"We can also be together now! Y/N, you're stronger than this, and you may not think so, but some people love you deeply," my boyfriend stated with a tiny whimper.

"I know. And that's why you should stop stalling me so I can grant people a wish --"

"It's not a wish, Y/N! You don't understand. You see, if you die, then I disconnect with my family at instinct. Then the one thing keeping its broken pieces together leaves while Rebekah has to put it back together for the next 500 years. I would give up trying for them, and so would Niklaus, Hope, even Hayley. If you give up, then so does everyone else," the vampire told me, almost resembling a snake's hiss. My breathing got caught in my throat until I was forced to exhale again.

"Eli, please. If you love me enough, then you'll free me from all this torture," I said, drowning out my own voice.

"Y/N . . . ." he was at a loss for words now. I heard a snivel, then a gulp. "I guess I don't love you enough."

A rough-edged fist crossed my face, and my consciousness went dark.

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Note

I really wanna know what happened during the painful bath that Nanda promised Jameson a while back. Baths in whump have the potential to be so soothing and excruciating at the same time, which kinda fits Jameson’s whole character don’t you think?

CW: Pet whump, dehumanizing language, intimate whumper, dubcon touch NSFW (not explicit), implied dubcon (fade to black), referenced blood and whipping, sadistic whumper, creepy whumper, creepy comfort, drowning, talk of sui (to escape torture), implied death by drowning (unnamed oc)

r/LetsTalkTrueCrime

NEW VIDEOS of the Box Boy Killer! Never Before Seen!

•Posted by u/oshaycanyousee 14h ago

So I got a really good response to my short series on the mysterious Box Boy Serial Killer (you can find my previous write-ups here, here, and here).

Well, recently I discovered something entirely new that I think you'd enjoy getting a look at! Found among personal items belonging to Nathaniel "Nanda" Matthew Benson: a medium-sized external hard drive containing nearly 750GB of photo and video content.

The hard drive was labeled 'Personal'. Police stated there was a second hard drive labeled 'Professional', but what content was on there, if anything, has never been released.

Technically, neither has this. Someone from within the police department leaked a bunch of videos and photos at some point, and I was able to get ahold of them thanks to a friend of a friend (who shall go unnamed, don't want to tip off whatever FBI agent is watching his internet activity, haha... or is it her or their internet activity... FBI Agent will never know.)

In my writeup on Nanda Benson's life with his Boxie, I didn't have a ton of details on how they interacted with each other. Finding this trove of info definitely changed a few things on how I view their relationship.

Take a look and let me know if it makes you maybe reconsider a few details, too. FYI: This does have nudity and some spicy times! Nothing worse than you've seen on HBO or whatever, but like, fair warning.

[Embedded Video Player With Title: Bathtime With Boxie: NSFW and Yet Somehow Still Oddly Wholesome Kind Of]

The video begins with the tub already filled with water, hot enough to gently steam. It's a gigantic soaker tub, large enough for four people to easily sit without crowding, nestled alongside a window in a truly enormous, incredibly well-lit bathroom. Everything is in shades of white, which makes the person in the frame even more immediately the enter of attention.

A young man with short, shaggy brown hair and dark eyes sits in the tub. He looks up, wrinkling his nose and glancing away. Only then does a bright red mark, darkening already to a bruise become obvious on one side of his neck.

"Don't fucking tape this," He says. His voice is slightly rough-edged, as if he's been screaming, and he sounds exhausted. "That's weird. Not taping the fucking but taping the after bit."

Red welts are visible above the line of water, marking his shoulders and arms. The welts are a deep red that is nearly purple - they are surrounded by bright red irritated flesh.

"Oh, but I like you like this." The voice holding the camera is deep and amused. The camera wobbles slightly and then settles, and soon enough a second man enters the screen. It's clearly Nanda Benson himself, stark naked.

Where the Boxie is heavily bruised and beaten, Nanda himself would be spotless if he weren’t flecked with drying red spots that are clearly the pet's blood.

"Yeah, well." The pet shifts to the side as Nanda steps in, hissing softly in contentment at the sudden burst of heat when he enters the water. He settles down against a bench set in to the side of the tub, and opens his arms.

The pet moves immediately into them, without hesitating. His eyes flicker nervously back to the camera and then away again.

"Yeah, well-... yeah well what, pet?" Nanda laughs as he pulls the Boxie into his lap, toying one hand already damp from the tub over the ring at the front of his collar. "Cat got your tongue after that fun we had together?"

"Tongue's the only thing you didn't take," The pet responds, almost playfully flirtatious. "I guess you'd miss it too fucking much."

"If I took your voice, who would call me a fucking idiot before I fuck him into the ground, hm?"

The pet flushes, looking down at the water, at the slightest pink of his blood still running into it. "Sir-"

"Ssssshhhh. I like you insulting me. I like punishing you for it more." Nanda mouths at the unmarked side of the pet's neck, pulling him back-to-chest where he sits, so he's facing the camera directly again. The pet's back arches when Nanda's teeth dig in, making a soft, high-pitched whine as his head drops back onto the man's shoulder.

The camera picks up the quiet splash of water as the pet tries to move away and is pulled roughly right back, catches the refracted sight of Nanda's hands on the pet's thighs forcing them apart, each of his calves on the outside of Nanda's thighs.

"Please-... H-hurts-"

"You love it," Nanda whispers, and bites down again, right into the crook of the pet's neck where it meets his shoulder. The cry this time is wild with a mix of pain and something darker, the pet's hands moving helplessly up and back to clasp just behind Nanda's head. His back is nearly a bow, every muscle trembling with a need to escape and to hold perfectly still, both at once.

When Nanda pulls back this time, the camera picks up the blood smeared on his teeth before he runs his tongue over them. It finds the light glinting off the fresh blood welling from the new bite along the pet's shoulder.

"It's too much," The pet says, struggling to sit back up straight, turning to look at Nanda. For a moment, his shaggy damp hair and angle hides his expression from the camera's gaze.

The twist of his spine, though, shows the bloodied whiplashes making their way up his back nearly to the nape of his neck.

"It's too much," The pet repeats, in a whisper. "Please. Please, it's too fucking much, if you fuck me again I'll fucking die. Please."

"Now, pet," Nanda teases, flirts shamelessly, running his wet hands through the pet's hair. He grips on tight and forces his head back again. The profile of the pet's face shows the slight bump of a broken nose healed almost perfectly, but not quite. The gasp he makes when Nanda's free hand presses over the welts on his chest is loud enough for the camera to catch. "You know you don't get to say when it's too much."

"You'll f-fucking kill me," The pet protests, voice tight from the angle forcing his collar to dig painfully into his throat. "Please, I... everything hurts so much..."

"You love the pain." Nanda's eyes look up to meet the camera before a more sinister smile finds its way across his face. "I know what you can take better than you do, pet, and I think you can handle one more. Sssshhh, here we go. There..." Nanda exhales softly as the two of them shift in the tub, the pet making a soft pained sound, his hips rolling as he is worked slowly down into position.

Then Nanda chuckles and slides his entire arm over the welts marking the pet's torso, holding him tightly in place. "Now take a deep breath."

"Wh-what?" The pet's eyes widen, comprehension coming a half-second too late. "Wait, don't-"

Nanda's hand gripped into the pet's hair plunges him forwards, bent at the waist, forcing the Box Boy's head suddenly under the water. The pet struggles desperate trying to get his head back up to breathe. Nanda grunts in a rhythm as his hips snap up and down again. He groans, "So fucking tight, goddamn I love you, you fucking slut for me-"

[/END VIDEO]

The video cuts off there, but my friend tells me the rest of it is basically the kind of stuff you have to pay a monthly fee for everywhere else on the internet.

But there's another video, from way later, that I find a really interesting contrast and comparison. Same friend got me this one. It involves Robert, whose write-up you can see right here.

[EMBEDDED VIDEO: Titled Holy Shit, No Wonder He Killed Him]

The screen is black for a few seconds, with the sound of someone taking the cap off a camera before things come into blurry view and then slowly into focus.

The bathroom in this video is tiny. It's barely large enough for everything in it, and a person sitting on the toilet will damn near bash their knees into the side of the bathtub. The grout in the tile floor is dark with old stains, and the tile itself needs either serious scrubbing or an exorcism.

Sitting naked in the bathtub is a young man with long blond hair that hangs in filthy, dirty clumps down to his shoulders. His face is streaked with mud and worse, and he has a black eye that has nearly swelled his left eye shut entirely. His hands are bound with rope stained brown with dried blood, held up in front of him.

His one good eye, maybe blue, follows with a kind of resigned terror the person behind the camera.

He sits in water up to his waist, but by the way he is shivering, it's clear that the water is not even warm, let alone hot. Further bruises mark his ribcage and his legs. One leg juts out in front, and something about it seems like it might be broken.

The camera is handheld, panning slowly from the young man's torn and lacerated heels and feet through his bruised leg - one swollen - and then back up to his face.

"Tell me your name." The voice is Robert Weber's.

The young man's mouth twists in a snarl that fades as quickly as it came and he looks away, to the side of the tub marked with deep soap scum. When Robert's house is searched, there are scratches in the tub as though someone had clawed that deeply into the sides in an attempt to escape. "It's..." The young man inhales, winces at the pain. "It's twe-... Twenty-One. M-My name is... Twenty-One."

"Good. And-... what did we practice saying next?"

The man's jaw trembles visibly onscreen. Then he says, flat and numb, "My name is Twenty-One and I have... two weeks to l-live."

"Perfect. Now I promised you a good scrubbing if you played along downstairs-" The young man flinches, closing his good eye and curling up in the tub as best he can. "-and I will keep that promise." There's a pause, jostling as the camera is slotted into a tripod to continue filming. Then, Robert's voice is suddenly deafening. "Dog! Get the fuck in here!"

The door opens with the creak of hinges deeply in need of oiling, and then the Boxie moves into view. He's skinny, malnourished and underfed, and his hair is roughly cut short in uneven hunks. He has bald spots worn in by the muzzle that is buckled over his mouth, making his breathing an audible rasp. He glares with unhidden hatred.

"Give Twenty-One a bath," Robert says, and his hand moves into view as he pats the Boxie on the head. The Boxie flinches but then forces himself to hold still, closing his eyes as the pat turns into prolonged petting. His muzzle is unbuckled and then removed. Robert's fingers drift over his bald spots, play along the red marks pressed into his skin by the muzzle, move over a scar cut into one side of his mouth that wasn't there in the video with Nanda.

The Boxie is naked but for an old dog collar around his neck.

Robert hums, disappears entirely from view. The door opens and closes again. The sound of a lock clicks.

The Boxie looks at the young man in the bathtub, who doesn't look up. "Fuck this shit," The Boxie mumbles, but he moves - dragging one of his legs a little, and there are ropes tied around his ankles that ensure he can do little more than shuffle - and finally kneels next to the tub. "Are you going to be a shit?"

The young man looks at him with surprise. "You... I've never heard you talk before," He whispers, looking fearfully to the side towards the door.

"You've never seen me without the fucking muzzle before, either," The pet replies. His voice is far rougher than the first video, suggesting long-term damage to his vocal chords. "I asked you something. Are you going to fight me and be a shit about this or no?"

The young man hesitates, then shakes his head. "I couldn't fight if I wanted to anymore," He says, like a man confessing a sin. "It all hurts too much. You know? I had a girlfriend-"

"Stop it." The pet cuts him off and leans over, picking up a stiff washcloth and soaking it in the water until it's soft enough to use again, running it over the young man's shoulders. For all the edge of meanness in his voice, the pet's touch is clearly gentle. "You're going to fucking die here, better if you don't talk about stuff that gets you fucked up first. Forget her."

The young man leans over to give easier access to his back. The soft whimpers he makes show that there must be some grievous injuries back there that the camera can't see. "I-I know I will. Die, I mean. Do I really have-... is it really two weeks?"

"Yeah." The pet takes a bar of soap and runs it over his own hands, rubbing them together to work up a lather. The soap found in Robert Weber's house after his death is Irish Spring and Dove - it is believed he used different soap for different captives according to his own odd whims. "He's put little heart shapes on a calendar he marks off. He'll hurt you a little worse every fucking day and then make you beg for him to end it."

The young man slowly nods, looking at his bound wrists. There's a soft sniff, but he seems too tired for tears. "There's no chance of getting away, is there."

It's not really a question.

The pet answers anyway.

"You're the twenty-first, and none of the others have. What do you think?"

"I-I can't do this."

"You have to." The pet gets a red Solo cup sitting on the side of the tub, fills it with water, and pours it down the young man's back. He hisses and cries out softly in pain. "He doesn't exactly ask your goddamn preferences."

"Help me escape," The young man pleads. "Help me get out of here."

"I'm fucking hobbled," the pet snaps. "He'll be on us both before we even made it out of the hallway. You think I'm fucking stupid? I'm the only one who might not die if I stay good. Come on, lean forward so I can wash your hair."

The young man moves to obey, hands disappearing beneath the filthy bathwater, and then he turns, looking over his shoulder. He and the pet share a long, silent moment. Then he leans over far enough to put his mouth nearly to the pet's ear and whispers something so low that the camera doesn't pick up the words.

The pet inhales sharply.

He looks at the door, and then back to the young man.

"Are you sure?" He asks, and the edge is totally gone from his voice, now.

The young man nods, slowly. "Please," he says, a little louder. "If I have to-... please. Not him. I-I know you'll get punished, but... please. God, please, just this one thing." His hands come back up to grip onto the pet's hand where it lays along the side of the tub.

The young man leans forwards, and his forehead gently rests against the pet's. They are silent for a long moment.

"Please, don't let him be the one to kill me," The young man says. "I know I'm g-going to die, but... let me take that a-... away from him. Please. God, I don't even know your name, but-... please."

The pet swallows, then nods, tipping his head back to press a kiss to the young man's forehead. "I don't have a name. What's your name? I'll remember it. Your real name."

The young man's throat bobs and he whispers into the pet's ear again.

He sits back up, leaning over until some of his long hair falls into the water. "I'm-... I'm ready."

The pet takes a deep, deep breath, moves up to kneeling with his thighs vertical, lays both hands on the back of the young man's head, and says, "I hope it's better, wherever you go."

Then he pushes the young man's head underneath the water.

[/END VIDEO]

According to my friend, there's more to that video as well, but obviously it's been cut to take out the end of the poor guy. Now, my friend swears up and down the pet is crying at the end of the video, that he can see tears, but I'm not sure.

That doesn't really line up with the pet killing people before this, you know?

But one thing it does prove is that the Boxie knows the name of one of the unidentified victims. If he could be found, we could give that man back his name and get his family the closure they deserve.

I know some of you argued with me last time that the Boxie is clearly a VICTIM and not a PERPETRATOR, and I definitely admit this second video maybe suggests you're on to something there.

But I still think we have a Boxie killer on our hands here - I just think maybe I was wrong about why he's killing them at all.

I guess we'll find out if he kills again.

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @whump-tr0pes @raigash @eatyourdamnpears @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @boxboysandotherwhump @outofangband @whumptywhumpdump @thehopelessopus @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @butwhatifyouwrite @newandfiguringitout @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @oops-its-whump @endless-whump @cubeswhump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @whumpiary @burtlederp

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painless-innit-colourful · 3 years

Text

Bit of a c!Tommy character study fic really. Tommy’s in Snowchester in that lovely bit of peace between his resurrection and Wilbur’s that I seem to love writing fluff in. Feat. Michael, Tubbo and Ranboo.

Tommy has many thoughts on many things these days.

He supposes it's yet another after-effect of having been dead. He spent so long floating in nothing with next to nothing to think about- No, that's not it. It was more like he had been robbed of the ability to think. The dead have no need for thoughts or contemplation, so why not just lean back and let your mind wither into oblivion?

He shakes himself out of that stupor and reminds himself of what he was thinking about. The song emanating from the kitchen radio is pretty good. Ranboo has gotten really annoying lately. And there's an overly stubborn stain on the head of the Axe of Peace that is totally throwing off its intimidation factor.

He's scraping at it with some steel wool he nicked from the sink - he's at Tubbo's in Snowchester - when he feels a tugging sensation. Still far too on edge for his own good, he springs to his feet and holds the axe as if to if to attack. False alarm: it's just Michael.

Michael. The beloved son.

He doesn't seem frightened by Tommy half-brandishing an axe at him - he seems to be trying to ask Tommy a question in a mix of half-formed English words and a babble of what Tommy can only assume to be Pigman Latin. The axe in his hands is suddenly heavy, and something twisted and hateful and not him briefly flirts with the idea of swinging, before he takes that thought out back, shoots it, throws it in a hole in the ground and drops TNT on it. Jealousy is a powerful drug and he hates himself for even thinking of harming this child. He discards the axe over his shoulder unceremoniously (scuffing the guest bedroom floor as it clatters to the ground; oh well) and sits down heavily, knitting his hands together and putting his head in them for a minute. The song changes, and he hates it.

---

"Where's Michael?"

"Uhhhh-" After a slight interlude of Tubbo checking around his feet, there's a babble from the next room. "In with Tommy."

"Is he gonna be alright?" Ranboo's concern is warranted - especially considering what happened the day before prior to the disastrous mission to rescue Henry - but Tubbo dismisses it with a wave of the hand. "He's fine."

"Are you sure? What if he hurts him?"

"Which one?" Ranboo lets out a single exasperated laugh, quietens, thinks for a minute, then sighs. "If you say so."

"Tommy's not like that, alright?" Tubbo turns to face his husband, spatula in hand. "Yeah, he's obnoxious and reckless and doesn't think before he does or says things and he's been a bit... out of sorts lately, but he's not- He wouldn't do something like that." The last part of his sentence comes out a lot quieter, as he looks past Ranboo, through the open door, where Tommy stands over Michael, holding the Axe of Peace. "And if he did," He amends with a hiss. "I'd kill him myself." Ranboo looks over, taken aback but not entirely surprised.

"With this," Tubbo adds as he waves his spatula around. Their attention is drawn back by the loud CLONK from the guest room, and Tommy's sitting on the bed as Michael struggles to scramble up with him. Tommy's hands - axeless - reach over and pull him up by the arms, and Tubbo leans back with a smile as Michael plops down next to Tommy and starts babbling.

"See?" He says when Ranboo finally looks back. "Total confidence." The enderman-hybrid splutters. "You sure? What were you saying about that spatula?"

"Don't know what you're talking about!" He laughs loudly, almost loud enough to hide his racing heartbeat from himself.

---

Tommy can't understand two words the pig-kid is saying, but he seems happy enough, so it makes up for contemplating his murder in his mind.

"They love you a lot, don't they?" He says softly, to which Michael halts his ramble for a moment to listen. "Eythay ovelay ouyay ootay."

Tommy smiles, still with no clue what he's trying to convey. "I can't believe I'm jealous of some toddler. How pathetic is that? The big man that I am, jealous of a baby Pigman."

"Iway ikelay ouyay."

He chuckles, "Me too buddy. What did you want?" The kid seems to understand most basic English phrases, even if he can't say them, and his eyes (or eye) light up at this. He picks up these two wooden block-things - kid puzzle pieces - and bashes them together, showing Tommy. "Oh nice." He remarks, leaning back to avoid getting his nose pancaked. Michael stops whacking them together and lines up the interlocking parts, clicks them into place and then lets go. The puzzle is complete for a second, and then it falls apart and drops to the bed.

"Ohhhh. That's why you wanted me." Tommy picks up the pieces, looking at the interlocking mechanism until he finds where it's broken: a chunk of the one side has splintered off and is rattling around in the other part. Convenient. "Are you sure Tubbo can't fix this be- No, y'know what? I got this." He places the pieces back on the bed, Michael's eyes following him as he walks out the room and down the ladder to the storeroom. A hop, skip and a quick rifle through the chests later, he returns with hands holding a grey substance. He rips off a little bit of clay and dumps the rest in Michael's hands with a "Please don't get that on the bedsheets, or your parents will murder me." as he warms the clay between his hands. It's a rudimentary solution, but it'll do. He balances the clay on the back of one hand while trying to get the loose piece out of the mechanism while also keeping an eye on Michael to make sure he isn't making a mess.

Prime, watching a child is hard work.

All tasks complete, he starts using the tiny knub of clay to stick the puzzle back together. The song in the kitchen changes again, and Michael babbles along, singing rather well as he messes with the clay.

"Okay," He holds the puzzle up to the light to check his haphazard joining. "I fixed your thing, but you'll have to be careful with it, 'cause it'll probably break again-" He's choosing to ignore the irony that's slapped him in the face there. "So, uh, here." Michael takes it rather gently. "T'anks!" He holds something out to Tommy with his other hand and slowly makes him take it. It's crude, it's rough, it's definitely the work of a toddler: it's Tommy, with the outline of his shirt and everything, rendered in clay. It's like a smaller version of the statues he found outside his house when he finally got out of the prison. He likes this one better. He might keep this one.

"Thank you, Michael," He sighs, wondering if there's room in his enderchest for this. "You're a good kid. You're a good kid."

"Ou'reyay ymay erohay, 'ommy." He sniggers.

"I can't understand a word you're saying, and it's Tommy. T-ommy. Tommy."

"Ttttt-ommy."

"Tommy."

The kid squints. "Uncle 'ommy. Uncle 'ommy!" And not only does he say it, but he says it perfectly, meaning he's had to have practised, and he grins and hugs Tommy's middle quickly and runs off waving the puzzle in the air to show his dads and Tommy can't make his mouth work to tell him to be careful with it because he's still stuck two minutes ago with the clay model in his hand.

---

"Oh, he fixed it?" Michael nods vigorously at Ranboo's question, twisting the puzzle back and forth to show him how fixed it is. Tubbo chuckles, "Tommy?" And when a minute passes with no reply, Tubbo turns the heat down under the pan and skips over to the door. "Tommy?"

The blonde in question is still sat on the bed, one hand curled softly around an unpolished clay figure, eyes shining. "You alright?" His head snaps up, eyes blinking rapidly as he jumps to his feet. "Tubbo, hi."

He laughs a little, just a twinge of concern creeping in. "You alright?"

"Yeah, just- just hungry."

"Oh god, the big man's appetite has returned!" Tubbo announces as he walks arm-in-arm with Tommy back into the main room. There's a small chorus of laughter as the song on the radio changes, and It Had To Be That One Didn't It.

"Oh no, you're staying right here," Tubbo says with a grin, pulling a mock-struggling Tommy towards the stove. "Man the food or dance with Michael."

"Are you KIDDING me."

"It's his favourite!"

"You've done this on purpose, I know it."

Tommy heaves a great sigh and backtracks to the middle of the floor. "Let's see your moves kid." Michael chirps happily, Tommy groans into his hands and they both start hopping in unison. Halfway through the pre-chorus, he bounces over to Ranboo, "Yeah, you're not just standing there. C'mere."

"UH- Okay-!"

Watching his best friend, husband and child all dancing along to Bruno Mars - and with minimal squabbling! - Tubbo has never wished he was recording more.

---

He's going to garrotte Tubbo for this. But Michael? Michael's just fine.

"UGHHHHHH- Jump in the Cadillac!"

#personally i think this is rubbish but i've been writer's blocked for weeks so it's an alright first fic back #tommy's guilt over threatening michael has been bouncing around my brain for weeks so that's what came out this time #dream smp #crim writes #dsmp fic #tommyinnit #tubbo #ranboo #bench trio #michael underscore beloved #michael _beloved #sidenote: i really cannot think of a title

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sailtoafarawayland · 3 years

Text

Hope and Surprises

A Captain Swan Family Ficlet...

I’m brushing off a very old collection for this little tale, but it seems like the appropriate home. The first two chapters were written five years ago, but I hope you enjoy them all the same, if you haven’t already. Onto the new addition...

Rating: G

Setting: Enchanted Forest AU

AO3 - FF

Hope and Surprises

Killian felt something tugging him from the warm fog of sleep, whatever dream that had been beneath his eyes slipping from him fully as a soft hand pressed against his cheek, the familiar touch accompanied by a sound that would never fail to make his heart swell with joy.

“Papa,” came the urgent whisper, his daughter's palm tapping insistently against him as he blinked the sleep from his eyes, surprised to see that the cottage was dark, sunrise still many hours away.

He smiled at the sight of her face hovering close to his, her brow furrowed over blue eyes that mirrored his own, the soft dusting of freckles across her cheeks a map of his favorite constellations.

“Wake up, Papa,” she insisted, her teeth chewing at her lower lip with worry as she glanced over his shoulder toward the pile of blankets behind him.

“Why are you up so early, love?” he whispered in return, stroking her soft blonde curls, tangled and wild just as her mother's were in the morning.

She fixed him with a look of great impatience, something else she'd inherited from her fiery mum who was still sleeping soundly on the other side of him.

“You have to get up, Papa – right away.”

She stepped away from the bed, little arms crossing stubbornly in front of her chest, her nightshift bunched and sticking out from beneath the dress she'd tugged haphazardly over her sleep-tousled curls.

“Very well,” he murmured, carefully extricating himself from the blankets, the cold touch of the wood planks a fleeting discomfort at the sight of his daughter's wide smile. “Tell me then, what mischief have you managed so early this morning, my little cygnet?”

“Papa, be quiet,” she whined, a stocking foot stamping on the floor as she took his fingers and dragged him toward the far side of the cottage, parting the heavy tapestry that separated he and Emma's sleeping area from the rest of their home. “I tried to do it all on my own, but it was too much to carry.”

Killian shivered in the morning chill, glancing longingly back toward the trunk where his clothing was neatly folded, but the tapestry was already falling back into place behind them, and his headstrong lass wasn't about to give him a moment to gather even a shirt.

His night breeches would have to do.

She pulled him past the table and over to the hearth, gesturing toward an array of destruction and mess he would have needed to have been blind to miss.

“Oh, darling,” he crooned, kneeling and taking in the spread she'd created by the small light of her lantern – the jam smeared and dripping over the edges of a thick slab of bread, the wooden bowl cradling berries drizzled with a golden sheen of honey, the rough mug filled to the brim with what smelled like Emma's morning tea, and all of it set out in a neat line on one of the large wooden trenchers. “Mama will love it. You've done well, my wee lass.”

Hope beamed, glancing eagerly toward the other side of the still dark cottage, her fingers tugging at the back of her dress that just so happened to be facing the front, laces hanging down to her knees.

“Do you see? I even made Mama's tea, for her belly. Can we bring it in now, Papa? I want it to be a surprise.”

Killian bit back a sigh, instead smiling hopelessly at their daughter. He knew it was far to early to go about waking his wife, but Hope had put such work into her surprise that he couldn't bear to put her off a moment longer.

“Aye, of course we can, love – shall I do the carrying and let you do the waking?��

“Yes, you carry it, Papa. It's quite heavy, and I'll give Mama kisses to wake her.”

Killian carefully angled the wooden platter over the edge of the stone hearth, just enough that he could balance it on his wrist before gripping the other side tightly and rising to his feet. He bit back a grimace as the tea spilled over the edge of the mud, running coldly along his arm and pooling at the base of the bread.

Hope galloped across the dimly lit floor and tossed the tapestry aside, any concern over secrecy long forgotten and replaced by the excitement of sharing her surprise with her mother.

Catching the heavy tapestry with his shoulder before it could swing entirely closed, Killian eased into the small space he and Emma shared as their own, Hope already bouncing against the frame of the bed, her fingers curled into the feather mattress while her legs did a jig beneath the folds of her dress.

“Mama,” she whispered, bumping her pink tipped nose against Emma's, her tiny fingers rising to push back the curls from her mother's face as she tried again, this time more loudly and closer to her ear. “Mama, wake up!”

“Hope,” Emma mumbled, eyes blinking heavily as she drew back and stretched beneath the blankets, rolling her face deeper into the downy pillow. “Hope? What is it, sweetie? Is everything alright?”

“Happy Name-day!” Hope sang, unable to keep still any longer and launching herself onto the bed, nuzzling herself into her mother's chest as Emma shrieked and laughed, pulling her close. “Papa and I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh, you do? Aren't I the luckiest mama in the world.”

“I'll not take credit for this one, love. This surprise is courtesy of our little cygnet,” Killian chuckled, carefully moving the serving trencher toward the bed and resting it across his wife's lap as she wrangled Hope onto the other side of the bed, stilling her bouncing legs with a hand, “but she's done a lovely job of it. Happy Naming Day, my love.”

“Thank you,” Emma sighed, pulling their daughter's head against her shoulder and kissing the top of it soundly. “This looks delicious, and I was so hungry that I was certain I couldn't sleep a minute longer.”

“Were you really?” Hope asked, dipping her finger into a run of honey that had made its way free of the berry bowl. “It's because you're eating more now, I think.”

Killian choked down a laugh as Emma glared playfully at him from the bed before returning her attention to their daughter's gift.

“Are these fresh berries with honey?”

“They are,” Hope nodded, “and I really didn't eat any of them – because today is your special day, Mama.”

“You know what would make this day even more special?” Emma whispered, picking up a bruised raspberry from the top of the pile and holding it aloft. “Sharing this delicious breakfast with my sweet girl.”

“Well, it was a lot of work making all of this,” Hope reasoned, eyeing the berry, “and I think I'm awfully hungry now.”

She plucked the berry from Emma's fingers and popped it into her mouth, chewing happily before snuggling into her mother's side and reaching for a few more. A large yawn followed a string of black berries, and before long Hope's sticky fingers had fallen quietly to her side, eyes flickering closed.

Killian watched as Emma lifted the cup of tea and took a careful sip, grimacing at either the temperature or the taste before setting it carefully on the small table beside the bed. Hope was beginning to drift back to sleep at her mother's side, and Emma was picking lazily at the berries while she cuddled their daughter. He stepped carefully back through the tapestry, turning to survey the damage that had been inflicted upon the hearth once more.

By the time he'd finished scouring honey from the stone and sweeping crumbs and crushed berries from the floor, he was more than ready for his own cup of tea, but a quick sip of the concoction their daughter had left in the kettle told him that he'd be searching for fresh mint to replenish Emma's supply – surely Hope had used half the jar for one pot. The cold and early morning catching up to him, he made sure the rest of the cottage was as it should be before turning back toward the bed, brushing the tapestry aside.

He pressed the image that greeted him into his heart – Emma curled protectively around Hope as they both slept against the pillows – the trencher of breakfast nibbled on and sat aside. Emma's cheek rested against the top of Hope's blonde curls, and their daughter's hand was pressed to the large swell of her mother's stomach where either a little brother or sister was still growing.

It would be another moon still before the new babe entered the world, and another Name-Day to celebrate – but Killian knew that no matter how many early, sticky breakfasts he needed to clean up in the wee hours of the morning, he would happily relish each one for the rest of his life.

END

Tagging: @justanother-unluckysoul @kmomof4 @the-darkdragonfly @teamhook @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @jrob64 @wefoundloveunderthelight @tiganasummertree @pirateprincessofpizza @lfh1226-linda @alexa-fangirl-forever @alifeofdreams @superchocovian @donteattheappleshook @hollyethecurious @caught-in-the-filter @snowbellewells @itsfabianadocarmo @stahlop @karlyfr13s @elizabeethan @rkrbirdgirl @batana54

#Captain Swan #CS fic #cs fanfic #emma and hook #hope swan jones #sailtoafarawayland #ficlet

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