#its too hard ngl my arms hurt
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satvpsandowns · 3 months ago
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The tutting dance in Link Click op 1 mimics the rotation of clock hands. It’s fascinating how it symbolizes the broken and intervened time.
Also, the duality, left-right; I picture it as that typical depiction of two characters in that ying-yang position (this might be a stretch lol).
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lightvixxen · 1 year ago
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His housewife.
I GOT THE IDEA OF BEING SPENCERS LIL HOUSEWIFE AND I HAD TO WRITE ABOUT IT
summary: after Spencer has been away on a weeklong case you decide to make him dinner, which leads to him calling you his housewife and absolutely refusing to admit it.
WC: 2278
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI, this is pretty vanilla ngl, kinda soft dom! Spencer Reid, housewife kink, breeding kink (How did that happennnn), lingerie.
You hummed around the kitchen, you looked at the time and smiled to yourself. It was 5:30pm, meaning that in thirty minutes your husband, Spencer Reid, would walk through the apartment's door. If they weren’t pulled away on a last minute case. And you were praying that wouldn’t be the case tonight. 
The BAU had already been gone on a week-long case, and they just got back last night. You barely got to spend any time with your husband before the poor thing fell asleep on your couch. You missed him desperately, it was always hard, with his job. There was always the looming possibility that he would be pulled away from you for weeks on end, leaving you to your own devices. 
Though for tonight, you had made a nice dinner,making use of the recipe you had gotten from Rossi when you and Spencer had married. You smiled to yourself, realizing just how much of a housewife you looked like. You worked down at a local coffee shop, Spencer's salary was surprisingly enough to keep you both comfortable but you needed something to fill the lonely days he wasn’t with you. Besides, extra money never hurt anyone, you used your paycheck for luxury items for both you and spence, while he went to keep you in the apartment. 
You set the table then walked to the living room, which was closest to the door and you waited for Spencer's return. You laughed at yourself when you realized that you were akin to a dog waiting for its owner to return but that's how you felt. 
The second you heard the door unlock you were jumping up from your spot on the couch, the book in your hands immediately forgotten, Spencer wasn’t even through the door before you were pouncing on him, You jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as you kissed him senseless. 
“Well- mmf- Hello- mm~ to you too.” Spencer's arms held you up as he walked through the threshold of your apartment, kicking the door shut. 
“Missed you.” you mumbled, fingers tangling in his wild hair, you captured him in a desperate kiss, making sure you hadn’t fallen asleep waiting for him to arrive. 
“Missed you too, my darling.” Spencer smiled softly, letting you love on him, it was definitely welcomed, especially after being away from you for so long. As he breathed the air around him in he noticed something, 
“Did you cook dinner?” You nodded excitedly, 
“I finally put the recipe Rossi gave to us at the wedding to good use! I swear I need a whole cookbook of that man's recipes-” You continued to ramble as Spencer put you down, his arms growing tired, you took hold of one of his hands as you led him into the kitchen. 
Spencer couldn't help but look at you lovingly, you had been home all day, run to the grocery store because he knew you did not have the ingredients for the recipe Rossi gave to you on hand. And then, you slaved over the stove for god knows how long to make him dinner for when he got home. 
He couldn’t help the flutter in his chest when he sat down at the table with you, a plate full of food already waiting for him. It was so domestic and he absolutely adored it. 
“My little housewife…” he mumbled, before digging into the food you had presented before him, moaning at the taste, coming home to his drop dead gorgeous wife jumping into his arms, then eating the delicious food she prepared is definitely what he needed after the week he had. 
You looked up at him from the food you had been eagerly waiting to actually get your hands on and eat,
“What was that babe?” you asked, you had caught a little of him said, ‘my’ and ‘house’ being the only things you managed to makeout, Spencer could be extremely quiet when he wanted.
Spencer looked up from his respectful plate and shook his head, 
“Hm? Nothing, it’s not important.” 
“No, no, no, what did you say?”
Spencer smiled sheepishly before getting the brilliant idea of stuffing his face full of food to avoid admitting to you that he had called you his housewife, he wasn’t sure what your reaction would be, despite being with you for five years and him being a profiler it was always hard to gauge your reactions. He blames the fact he’s wildly in love with you, it acts as some sort of shield from his profiling skills. And he was just too fucking embarrased to actually admit it. 
You huff realizing you're not gonna get it out of him while he has something to change the subject with.
After dinner you had decided to watch a movie, cuddled into Spencer's side on the couch. You had put on a horror movie, which you definitely were not paying attention to, and you doubt Spencer was either, you were just basking in the knowledge you were next to each other, instead of being miles apart. 
You glanced down at his watch realizing it was close to midnight.
“Shit, it’s almost midnight.” You said, moving to get up. Spencer moves his arm that was slung over your shoulder. 
“Gonna get ready for bed?” he asks you, and you nod, standing up. 
“Yeah but I'm probably not gonna fall asleep for another few hours.” Your husband nods in understanding, 
“I’ll be in there in a little bit” You nod again smiling, leaning down to peck Spencer on the lips before you move towards your shared bedroom. You were in the bathroom that connected to your bedroom when Spencer came in. You were brushing your hair, not wanting to deal with the unbearable knots that form in the morning. 
You picked out a silky babydoll nightgown, it was purple, and just so happened to be Spencer's favorite nightgown that you owned. You were going to get what Spencer said out of him whether he likes it or not.
“Hey Spence…” you call, getting his attention, he was already in pajamas reading a book in the bed, like usually is. 
“Yes?” he calls back, turning his attention away from the book he had in his hands. Before dropping it to the side entirely. “Really? The nightgown?” He asks, eyes scanning you up and down. 
“What do you mean the nightgown…?” Spencer smirks at you. 
“Sweetheart, you only wear that nightgown on our anniversary or when you really want to get something out of me.”
“Well…not my fault it works getting information out of you.” You cross your arms under your breasts, the nightgown already accentuates your curves, along with your breasts, other than the color that was the reason why it was Spencer's favorite, it showed off his favorite parts of you. 
He groaned when he realized what you were doing. 
“That's why it works, you're the definition of temptation when you wear it.”
You smirk, walking towards the bed while swaying your hips, Spencer's eyes were trained on you, you knew exactly how to get what you wanted out of him. You slowly slid yourself onto his lap, making sure you kept eye contact with him. Once you were fully settled onto his lap Spencer attempted to put his hands on your waist but you caught his wrists before he could.
“Nu-uh no touching, you get to touch when you tell me what you said earlier.” you tell him, and he groaned again. 
“Evil woman, you know how to exactly get what you want from me, don’t you?” You smile at him, “Spill it, doctor Reid” 
“God you are evil.” Spencer smiles. “I uh- I called you my housewife…just you cooking, waiting for me to come home…it's so domestic, the thought just slipped out.” You hummed, leaning down to kiss up his neck, leaving bruises in your wake, you released his wrists in favor of balancing yourself on his chest. His hands went to rest on your waist. 
“That's it? Not really embarrassing.” 
“You weren’t even meant to hear it.” Spencers hands moved from your waist to your ass, and buried his face in your neck. “I really should burn this nightgown, you get the upper hand too easily.” 
You gasp when you feel his hands squeeze your ass “I’m more surprised you haven’t ripped it yet-!” you squeal when he changes the position, swapping you so you're on your back and he’s towering over you, he places his knee so it's in between your thighs. 
“I’ve definitely thought about it…” He mumbles into your neck, his hands sliding the bottom of the nightgown up to bunch around your hips, his knee presses into your center, you have no doubts he can feel a damp spot in your panties. 
“Spencer…” you whimpered, feeling his lips trace the column of your neck, he liked to take his time with you, especially after you decided to tease him.
He tugged the nightgown down to free your breasts, thanking the heavens that it didn’t take too much effort. He moved his head so he was leveled with your breasts, his mouth wrapping around one of your nipples. You shivered at the sensation. Spencer was obsessed with your boobs, he could spend hours just sucking on them if you’d let him. 
His tongue circled your nipple, and his other hand came up to pinch and pull at the other, soft moans flying out of your mouth at your husband's ministrations. Spencer spent a generous amount of time on one before he moved to give his attention to the other, giving both of your breasts equal treatment. 
“Spencer please, don’t tease-” 
“Baby, you're the one who decided to tease me first.” He tells you, breaking away from your breasts, deciding he was done anyway. He rucks up the bottom of the nightgown, exposing the matching lace panties. 
“Why do you even bother to wear panties with this thing, you should know I get them off of you the second you give me the chance” He pulls the lace down your legs, flinging them somewhere in the room. 
You shrug, “I don’t know either sometimes.” 
Spencer pulls down his pajama pants and boxers enough to let his cock free. And you can feel your mouth water at the sight. Spencer had probably the most perfect cock you’ve seen, He was long but not to the point it was painful, and he had the perfect amount of girth to just to make you feel full. 
He drags the head of his cock through your lips, coating it in your wetness, letting it catch on your clit a few times. You throw your head back and moan. 
“Been thinking about this all week, been thinking about you all week” You tell him, moaning again when he finally sinks himself into your hole. 
“Yeah?” He smirks, starting to slowly thrust in and out, he would pull out enough to where just the tip stayed in you, before slamming himself back into you. “What were you thinking about sweetheart?” 
“Just- fuck- this, you, your cock filling me up, filling me with your cum- Fuck!” He made a calculated thrust into your g-spot, he can find and play with your body with terrifying precision. 
“Really? Want me to fill you up, darling? Maybe we should try for a baby this time, hm? That way I can just keep you plugged up all day…” Spencer's thrusts became more steady, he kept a harsh rhythm, making sure to hit your g-spot with each one. 
You moaned loudly, nodding quickly. 
“Spencer! Please, shit, yes!” 
“Yeah? Want to make me a daddy? Be my cute, pregnant, housewife?” he asked, and you nodded, his thrusted were deep and quick, he knew exactly how to force you close to the edge, paired with the fact you refuse to get off without him, he had you hurtling to the edge quicker than you’d like. 
“Spencer, I’m gonna cum, please, please!” 
“I am too sweetheart, just hold it a little longer, I’m so close baby” Spencer buried his face into your neck, he got vocal when he got close, and he liked using your body as a way to muffle his own moans. 
“Spence no- Wanna hear you please-” Spencer lifted his head, putting his forehead against yours, moans falling from both of your mouths. 
“I’m so close, you gonna cum with me baby?” One of Spencer's hands moved in between your bodies, his thumb rubbing tight circles into your clit. You nodded, feeling the tension tightening in your stomach. 
“Shit- Fuck, please hurry Spence, I don’t know how much longer I can hold it!” You threw your head back into your pillows, eyes screwed shut, focusing on not cumming too early. Spencer laced his hands through yours, hips desperately chasing his own release. 
“Now, fuck, cum now!” His words were enough to have the tension in your stomach snap, your cunt spazzing and tightening around his cock. Your orgasm is what tipped him over the edge, with one last thrust Spencer buried himself deep inside you, filling you up with his cum. 
After a few minutes all that was left in the room was the sound of your rugged breathing, you’re pretty sure you’ve ascended to heaven, after a week of being pent up and how powerful your orgasm was you’re confident that it killed you. 
Spencer had collapsed on top of you, catching his breath. He looked up at you, resting his head on your chest. You smiled back, hands coming up to run your fingers through his hair. 
“Welcome home, Spence.”
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lixies-favorite-cookie · 4 months ago
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doomsday ◦ h.j
—Sometimes doomsday wasn't the crumbling of a city; doomsday was an apocalypse of the mind
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@anon im so glad you requested this bc I literally loved writing it so much like it fr had my creative juices FLOWING so feel free to request anytime babes
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Paring ◦ Han x reader
Words ◦ 5231
Genre ◦ Hurt and comfort, ngl this angsty asf
Warnings ◦ han is a dick at the beginning but he is redeemed, panic attacks, language (like fr so many fucks in this its wild), talk about wasting your life, anxiety, fear, han is such a cunt at first its insane, not edited, uhhh I think that's it.
A/N ◦ This one is chaotic asf so if you don't like my chaotic writing this is definitely where you might wanna click off 💀ALSO IF YOU LIKED THIS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TELL ME like it literally doesn't have to be much you can just be like it was pretty cool
~CookieCreates🍪
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Sometimes it felt like Han gave away the numbers of the clock like dollar bills, bartering off a life that only ever seemed to be rushing away like a river roaring down the rocks too fast. He scoops little moments out from the shimmering rapids, but time still trickles between his fingers; the hours melting together like wax dripping down the spindly hands, its bony fingers-
reaching
reaching
r e a c h i n g
out to him, pulling him into a pool at the bottom of his feet, a pool of glittering, glowing memories.
Is this all life is?
Working
Stressing
Never sleeping
Never eating
Is the praise worth it?
Those hopeless nights, endless days, tired eyes, and a mind made of mush—was it all worth it?
Was any of it worth it?
The roar of the crowds drowning out the sound of the seconds-
tick
tick
ticking away, the shuffle of the sand seeping into the bottom of the hourglass—he taps the crystal dome, wondering how much of it is left—wondering when it all will stop.
When he can stop.
Han was a fizzing bottle of soda—shook for too long—today was hard; every day before a comeback is: producing, singing, dancing, learning, watching, waiting-
Checking off boxes on a list that never ended, so when he finally walks into the door of your shared apartment, a room he feels like he hasn't seen in weeks, he doesn't really notice you anxiously sitting on the couch, your knees bouncing on the floor mindlessly-
snapping
snapping
snapping
on the linoleum, something so simple shouldn't set him off, sure, but the sound was so familiar—so scary—it vibrated in his head, booming in his brain seconds-
ticking
ticking
ticking away
your feet
snapping
snapping
snapping on the ground.
He comes home to get away from the world rushing out from under him, so why were you sitting there being so fucking-
“Hannie!” You beam, sprinting over to throw your arms around his neck, breathing his scent in. It feels like centuries since you've seen him last. You vibrate with nervous, excited energy, practically bouncing up and down; but the thing was, right now he didn't want to be touched.
He didn't want to be held
He didn't want to have to talk
He didn't want to have to remember he had a life outside of the bubble that was his work. It felt like he was tending to gardens he didn't know how to grow. Your relationship had already sprouted; the seed planted a while ago, but even though the delicate stages of its development had passed, that didn't mean that it still didn't have to be cared for, and right now, he didn't care about anything. 
It was selfish, sure, but when you've spent your whole life giving parts of yourself away, selfishness seems so easy, at least while you still have small slivers of your soul left. 
He grates his teeth, everything seeming so wholly overwhelming, the walls encapsulating him in an unbreakable hourglass. He was so stressed, so tired, so done, so trapped. His breath stutters when you squeeze him tighter, nuzzling your nose against his shirt, staring up at him expectantly, eyes shimmering. 
"I haven't hugged you in forever I missed your face" you giggle voice like clouds of cotton candy but not quite sweet enough to dull the sour feeling settling in his stomach
He knows that love should never feel this hard, but right now everything he did felt hard, and the way you stare at him so longingly like you're going to combust if he doesn't perform, put on a fake smile, and act like everything is okay makes him feel like a fizzing bottle of soda with a lid screwed on too tight, and when you grip him tighter, trying to push an answer out of him
He flips his lid. 
"Holy shit, y/n, do you have to be so bombarding?" He snaps, pushing your arms away from him, almost looking disgusted. Your smile slips, staring at him in shock, still not really registering what he said. 
He doesn't know what feels worse—the way your features tremble with hurt or the way he knows he doesn't care. 
"I'm tired; I just want to go to bed, okay, and you are immediately rushing me; every day as soon as I get through the door, it's exhausting."
"You can't be serious," you whisper, genuinely believing what you said. He couldn't be serious. There was no way in hell he really believed that, but it didn't matter if he believed it or not; it all still hurt the same.
He wishes he could overlook the flames that flare in your eyes, consuming the stars that always seemed to shimmer.
What did he just do?
He sighs, collapsing onto the couch, digging the palms of his hands into his drooping eyes. He was so scared; the fear loosing his lips and everybody knows words of fear are the greatest lies. 
"Yes, I'm serious. Do you know how much work you are? I work all day, work, work, work, work everybody needs me always wanting, always needing something, something, fucking something," he growls, smacking his hands against his thighs, thrown into an unexplainable rage. "And as soon as I get home, you need me too; everybody is so fucking needy." The next words he says feel like an earthquake erupted in your soul, splitting your heart in two. 
"Your so fuckin' needy."
You flutter your eyelashes shut, pushing back emotions that boil in your brain. There are so many feelings fighting for the light, but instead of screaming, crying, or lashing out, you take a deep breath and fold your arms, calmly asking 
"Then why don't you just break up with me then?" There is nothing more terrifying than a woman whose fire rages behind a veil of ice, but when he looks up, watching the flames wrap around your posture, wisping around every edge of your bones, and even with the ashes of the love you once had for him fluttering in the wind, he still opens his big, fat, fucking mouth. 
"Or maybe I should have just never asked you out in the first place." No sooner did he spit the sentence out, did he want to shove it right back in his mouth. Your shoulders droop, eyes filling with an almost impossible amount of pain.
The earth crumbles, the walls of your shared home collapsing around you, rubble lost in all the memories that flicker away like embers floating from the burning configuration that was your relationship. It was ironic how the world worked; it took years to build up the love you felt and only a single sentence to wash it all away. You never thought you would see armageddon, but when those letters left his lips, you quickly realized sometimes doomsday wasn't the crumbling of a city; doomsday was an apocalypse of the mind. 
"Okay," you croak, hot tears streaming down your face; a wobbly smile pulls at your lips almost out of habit, facial muscles forced out of memory. 
You have never once imagined yourself drowning under so many words left unsaid, sinking in the waves of tears you fought back, and as you trudged up the stairs, sinking into your bed, you wondered when you would hear the begrudging footsteps—the hesitant knocks. Wondered when you'd hear his soft apology—a voice racked with guilt—but your fantasy never came.
All you heard was the clicking of the clock behind you, counting down the hours where he disappointed you again and again
You don't know what got to you first—the peirce of realization that he didn't regret the bitter insults that left his lips so easily or when you saw the calendar that peaked from the corner of your closet-
5 days
5 days left unmarked
5 days left blank
5 days until you celebrated your 3 year anniversary
Han Jisung would never know you were counting down the days
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Han should have runned after you, and in perspective, after a good night's sleep and a nice warm meal, he has never felt so completely stupid for not, but after you trudged up the stairs with a pained smile and glassy eyes, he was so starkly shocked he had said something so disgustingly distasteful his feet stuck to the ground, and finally, after hours of staring at the pool of time bubbling by his shoes, he drifted into a restless sleep. 
It was as though his terror tainted him, making the glassy parts of his heart dirty, and when he took the edge off, it was like a harsh wipe away at all the murk, revealing his jarring reflection in the pearly mirror.
He was such a jerk
He whimpers, running anxious fingers through his hair. He has no viable excuse, no good reason why he treated you so poorly—for someone so obsessed with time, he should know that you can't get your life back—can't turn the hands of the clock 
Push rewind
Hit replay
For what value would life be if you could just start it all over again? The impossibility made all the precious moments sweeter, but like every good thing, it made memories like these all the more foul.
You didn't deserve that
He didn't deserve you
and as you slink down the stairs, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. He can't stop that booming voice biting at the back of his brain.
How long will it take you before you realize that too?
You flick your gaze to him, burning with loathing cloaked behind layers of indifference. It floors him—those subtle signs of hatred that swim in the back of your eyelids, hidden in small twitches of your features, your almost tangibly cut off, throwing up your walls, shutting him out in more ways than one.
He had always worried about the gardens he was growing; flowers that sprung around him rapidly, fighting to figure out which one to water first, and all while your petals wilted and your roots curled up-
You waited
You watched as he bled himself dry. He shutters, everything bursting before his eyes—the love you once had for him flickering like the last flashes of a dying star. You're a million miles away, dancing on the craters of the moon, fluttering around the twinkling rings of Saturn. He folds himself deeper into the couch, almost hoping it will swallow him whole—pull him into the burning inferno beneath—even hell would be cooler than the fire that was your gaze.  Han Jisung never thought he'd see the day when the galaxy would collapse, but staring at you, flaring your final goodbyes, he realizes that doomsday was closer than he thought. 
"Baby," he whispers, his voice heavy with guilt, how easy it is to start a fire when you don't care about putting it out, but now that the wisps of flame consume you, he wishes he had never given you the kindling. 
You don't look at him as you walk around the kitchen, pouring a bowl of cereal. He stands up hesitantly, anguish feeling like an iron rod through his chest. He creeps into the kitchen, stepping lightly into the room like it's laced with landmines. 
"Please." His voice cracks—splits right down the middle, a perfect reflection of the cleave that was his soul. "I'm so sorry."
You place the cereal back in the cabinet and open the fridge to retrieve the milk.
The silence is deafening.
The all too familiar-
tick
tick
tick
of time trickling away rings in his ears
How much more of it does he have left?
How much more of this silence can he take?
You ignore him, strolling right past his trembling frame, racked with regret. It pulsates off his in palpable waves. You're so nonchalant so careless. He almost wants you to turn around and smack him, throw that stupid bowl of cereal in his face. Instead, you jog up the stairs, slamming the door behind you.
Is that the only door you shut?
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Han had always thought of the apocalypse as an idea only found in novels, tucked away behind the pages of a book, hidden in the comfortable corner of science fiction, because that's all it was, right— fiction? But as your dead eyes scrape his figure up and down, he realizes that Doomsday wasn't really fiction at all. Just like the world wasn't always a place, sometimes the world was a person, and right now his world was ravaged by a deadly disease, an illness that only infected the soul, an illness only transferred through the careless bitter words found in the English language. Fire was nature's greatest purifier, and sure, the walls of the home he lived in weren't warped with flames of your fury, but the home he had made in your heart was 
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It's been 3 days
3 days since he's felt the touch of another human. 
3 days since he made the biggest mistake of his lifetime.
3 days since he dropped a devasting bomb on your relationship, and the shrapnel was finally hitting him; curled pieces of cold metal lodged somewhere in between the folds of his soul. 
3 brutal bone-crushing days of pure ear-splitting silence—It was almost scientifically impossible, just how quiet you were. It was an art really, every brush of anguish accurately painted on—every ignored apology, every piercing glare, every single star that flickered out in your eyes. You were strategic, meticulous, you were plain vicious-
and you had every right to be.
You were fully justified in your actions, and yet he felt like he was still teetering over the edge of madness. The thought of losing you like a noose snaking around his neck, choking him in an unadulterated form of terror 
He has been stricken by anxiety his whole life, but the thought of a world without you filled him with an inexplicable amount of fear—the kind that burrows in your bones, decaying in your soul—the kind of terror that your still stuck digging from your skin for centuries to come—the kind of fear that makes you simply
panic.
His hands shake as he pushes the door open, feeling like he's walking into an open war. The pages of a dystopia form walls around him, caging him inside a bombarding capsule of storming English. 
The harsh contrast of the hurricane in his mind and the indifference in your eyes sends him reeling. You were lying on the couch, mindlessly flipping through the channels, not sparing him a glance.
You were so beautiful so breathtaking, but for once, he wasn't admiring your beauty.
He was
falling
apart. 
Oh, fuck, he was freaking out. 
He had finally caved under the pressure of always having to perform a false, flimsy smile, wobbling on his lips, pretending to be okay as he watched the life drain out of your eyes; the passion seeping from his songs.
He loved making music, but what is art without chaos?
What is beauty without love?
What is the world without you?
He always had to be perfect; he always had to be put together. He was always running on all cylinders, always hanging on by a fraying straining thread, and finally, it snapped. 
The earth is
t i l t i n g,
flipping around,
turning upside down, and
i n s i d e o u t.
Guilt rips through his chest, yanking out harsh bouts of oxygen from his constricting lungs. 
He can't breathe
He can't breathe
He can't breathe
He can't fucking
b
r
e
a
t
h
e
He was going to die-
He was going to collapse into himself, busting into a flaring supernova. 
He was going to be his own demise-
Forming his own doomsday-
He has never thought of himself as an author, but before he could stop his mouth from moving, he was already caged between the sentences of his own personal apocalypse, living a waking nightmare.
He created a story with his stupidity, and now he has to pay the price. 
He was the end of your relationship-
what has he done?
He can't b r e a t h e
"Y-Y/n I can't," he choked on his words, watching the walls wash away like watercolor dripping down the page. 
He can't lose you
He can't lose you
He can't lose you
He's going to die
He stumbles into the living room, tripping over his feet, his breath staggering in his throat. He catches himself on the arm of the couch, digging his nails into the soft leather, gripping it like it was his tether, keeping him from floating into space—burning up in the atmosphere, his body bouncing around the icy rocks. 
"Fuck," he gasps, squeezing his eyes shut and clawing at his chest, almost as if he scratches his skin hard enough, he can finally pull out the hourglass that keeps ticking his time away. His heart pounded wildly, almost begging to be free from the confines of his ribcage. The fact that it was still beating was beyond him. 
His heart only beats for you.
His heart will only ever beat for you.
How was he alive when you were drifting away? moon dust dancing in your lungs, would you become a ruler of the skies, while he was still stood still? 
"Han," your voice sounds like cotton candy kisses and honey dribbles. He never thought he would ever be so happy to hear somebody so alarmed, but right now that was the only thing keeping him from shattering. 
You jump up from the couch, your face pulled in concern. 
He doesn't deserve it
Doesn't deserve it
Doesn't deserve it
He's drowning in a pool of his self-inflicted sorrows. He's sinking, and the only thing that could save him was you. 
How do you save a man who won't take your hand?
"N-No, im okay," he barley pushes the words out, weaving between the thick lump that's forming in his throat. 
It was a lie
Everything was a lie
That's all he was
a liar
"Han," your voice is warm and inviting, sucking him in, wrapping around him like a blanket in the cold, a bowl of soup to a sick stomach. You healed him even when he was the one who created the wound. You pull him in, taking his trembling frame into your arms. Gentle fingers thread through his hair as soft lullabied wispers float through the air.
He feels so safe
So secure-
So loved-
He never thought he would feel the tenderness of your touch again, so when your comforting arms squeeze him right off the edge of destruction, 
He
c o l l a p s e s
crumbling into a million sobbing, sniveling pieces before you, he sinks to the ground, dragging you along with him. 
He always brought you down-
Always took you with him-
He was a disease-
An infection-
He was your armageddon
He sags against your body, limply moving like a rag doll. You let him curl into your chest, holding him like pieces of pierced punctuation. 
You guys were a shattered semicolon inverted and upside down. 
There was so much he wanted to say—so many apologies, so many explanations, so many different synonyms for sorry—but you didn't need them; you never needed them; you needed him, and there was nothing he could ever say that would change that. 
You hum, rubbing soothing circles on his back. You were always the perfect metaphor, a marveling form of pristine poetry. Your touch was like fleeting promises on the skin, the delicate tickle of a blooming flower, the comfortable heat of a burning star. You weren't just his world; you were his universe.
He pulls you closer to him, clinging like a desperate dying animal, nuzzling his face in your neck. 
"I'm so sorry, baby, I'm so fucking sorry!" He blubbers the sentences onto your skin, as though the deeper he burrows into your body, the faster they can travel to your heart. 
"Han," you lull, a small smile grazing your face, physically having to claw him off of you. He does begrudgingly, a minuscule whimper tumbling out of his throat from the lack of contact; he doesn't meet your eyes. He can't—not when the clock still ticks your time away, not when he's still not fully sure that you're willing to turn the hands back. 
He's devastated, his eyes red and puffy with tears that cascade down his cheeks, shining in the overhead light. 
"Please don't leave me." He sniffles, rubbing his nose against the fabric of his shirt, bottom lip trembling. "I don't want our time to run out. All my time is running out. Everything is running out. I can't, I-" he stutters, tripping over letters that latch onto his teeth like cactuses digging into his lips. 
You furrow your brows, tilting your head in sympathetic confusion. "What do you mean, baby?"
He screws his eyes shut, his hands shaking almost aggressively on his thighs. Why did he say anything? How does he explain something like that? He tries to form the words on his tongue, but they stick to the roof of his mouth like glue. Speaking it into the universe makes it so much more real, so much more raw, because now it isn't a metaphor, a fictional little whisper that fucks with his mind. 
The earth quivers in its orbit as he opens his mouth-
Was he really going to admit this?
Was he even ready to admit this?
"It feels like my life is running out," he stammers, the words tasting so sour on his tongue. "My life is so stressful; everybody always needs something from me, and sometimes it feels like I'm dishing out so many slivers of my soul that I don't even have any of it left." He lets out a shaky breath, attempting to get his heart rate somewhere that resembles normal. 
"I'm always up, always working, always doing something, and it's scary to think while I'm wasting my life working so hard doing something I don't really love." He aggressively wipes the tear that drops down his cheek with the palm of his hand. "It's so scary wondering if I'm ever making the right decisions." 
He feels so small under your gaze.
"A-And the other day was so hard," he cries, fresh waves of tears blurring his vision as he reminisces on the events. 
"Everybody was yelling at me, always needing something demanding so fucking much; they were playing puppet, forcing my hands in a way they didn't want to move; everybody was so just so needy-"
"And so was I," you whisper, filled with guilt. It breaks him. Your so understanding, so loving, so forgiving, so perfect. 
How did he even get you?
His heart wrenches as he dives into your arms-
"No, no, no, no," he shouts, shaking his head against your shirt. "No, love, you didn't do anything wrong; it was me. Me and my shitty mood—it was all my fault. I blew up at you. You were trying to be the amazing, loving girlfriend you are, and what I said was solely because of my fear. The exhaustion and anger didn't exactly help either"
"But there are no more buts," he pulls away, catching your eyes burning with sincerity. "There is no excuse for the way I treated you; there is no justification, just explanation."
You smile, tilting your head in adoration. You would be lying if you didn't say you were relieved, because you were.  You thought he believed the words he said—what feels like forever ago—that you were the annoying, needy girlfriend that only ever bugged him, but he didn't believe what he said. No, he was just a ticking time bomb waiting to blow—a ball of stressed and nervous energy channeled into the wrong source. 
"It's okay, Hannie, really, we're okay"
He was a supernova—a burning, bursting flame of bright, beautiful colors 
Han had once thought that the stars in your eyes had flickered away, but now he knows even the most enchanting things have to die before they can transform. 
He loves you.
He has loved you for 2 years and 363 days.
He will love you until the world goes up in flames. 
He will love you until the planet bleeds with the wounds of armageddon. 
"Does this mean we can still celebrate our 3-year anniversary?" He asks sheepishly, looking up at you through fluttering eyelashes. You perk up, visibly brightening. 
"You remembered!"
"I never forgot." he smiles, eyes shimmering with hope.
"I've been counting down the days," you grin.
"So have I," but he hasn't been counting down the days until you celebrate 3 beautiful years on this planet together. No, he's been counting down the days until his body slips into the grave, but as he presses his ear to your heart, it feels like the steady beats were a swelling symphony orchestrated just for him. He sighs contently, nuzzling deeper into your chest. The terrifying tick of the clock faded away, drowned out by the song of your soul whispering sweet promises into his ear. Sure, the fear still tickled the back of his brain, but instead of worrying that time was trickling away, he pulls you closer because with you, there was never a wasted moment. 
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©CookieCreates (posted: July, 9th 2024) All rights reserved. Do not translate, copy, or claim my works as yours! I only post on this platform so if any of my works are elsewhere, report and notify me immediately
~cookie🍪
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hyuckmov · 1 year ago
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haechan - all my demons have your smile
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demon!haechan x angel!reader genre: smut, angst, fluff if you're into it wc: 9.6k <3 warnings: dubcon-y & morally gray (reader is a literal angel and doesn't know a lot about anything so it's hard to give informed consent, haechan manipulates her emotions and dreams bc he's a demon), heavy on the corruption kink, wet dreams, masturbating (m), thigh riding / grinding, blowjobs and oral, fingering, haechan thick cock agenda, power dynamics (supernatural edition), sweet aftercare, overstim other warnings: angel demon lore is a mix of representation in pop culture and media and is very NOT based on its religious connotations a/n: happy birthday to me...ngl i wrote 40% of this either tipsy or drunk. this is for all the people who requested being corrupted by haechan….please lmk what you think i hope you guys like this!!! thank u to @saintlyhyuck for giving me the idea for writing demon hyuck <3
haechan thinks your reaction when he calls you angel is like a shot of pure pleasure in his veins. 
"hey, angel." 
you spin around, mouth falling open, flush high on your cheeks. "how could you��?" 
in the dim light of the club, haechan can hardly believe his luck. he raises his eyebrows, leaning in closer to you, delighting in the way you tense. the glow of your skin growing stronger, the feathers of your wings – folded and poorly disguised as a halloween costume, beginning to rustle nervously. 
how could he? more like how couldn't he, what with the way you looked then. the glow of your skin growing stronger, the feathers of your wings – folded and poorly disguised as a halloween costume, beginning to rustle nervously. 
"what do you mean?" he smiles innocently, tilting his head to the side. he has to bite back a laugh at the sound of confusion you make, a small whimper in your throat. "angel is what i call all the pretty girls i see." 
at the stricken look on your face, he lets his mouth fall open deliberately slowly, widening his eyes mockingly. "unless…you're a real angel?" 
you look like a deer in headlights, trembling slightly, unsure of what to say. it was only your first night in the human world. you'd heard there were demons and devils roaming the streets, monsters and spirits hidden in shadowy corners who would hurt you for your wings, worse ones who would strip you of your skin. creatures who were dying to get ahold of an angel and figure out what made you glow, harvest parts of you which were so holy and undamaged. you weren't supposed to let anyone know who you were, least of all strange boys in dark and shadowy places. 
haechan can feel his body burning. it's as if he's hyper-attuned to each breath you take, every single particle of you seeping with untainted innocence, something breathtakingly pure about the way you shake in your flimsy white dress. anticipation claws against his insides – he wants you, wants to learn every part of you, drink in your sweetness and choke on it. 
he's never ruined an angel before. the thought of it sends a heavy pulse through him, right to his gut. 
"relax…" he soothes. he wants to touch your skin, but he knows you might just burst into pure flame out of sheer fright. he softens his gaze as much as possible, tries to dim the desire. a soft smile on his face, he places a hand on his chest, to where his heart should be — if he had one. 
"i'm an angel too." 
you gasp, hands flying up to cover your mouth, relief flooding your system. "really?" 
he nods, lips morphing into a comforting smile. his hand reaches out to touch your upper arm, stroking your skin soothingly. he almost moans with how soft-to-touch it is, your angel's glow tickling his fingers with warmth, spreading through his body and churning inside him. 
"of course," he murmurs. "you're safe with me." 
"if you're an angel…" you lean closer to him, wary of others who may be listening to your conversation. you couldn't believe your luck, finding another angel the first night you got here. breath fanning lightly over his face, you whisper, "where are your wings?"
he can't help it – his breath hitches. he's able to count your every eyelash, feel your chest rise and fall, pretty pink mouth so close to his. there's no suspicion at all in the way your eyes sparkle with innocent curiosity, wide and trusting. 
he can't help it — he wants to see them fill with tears. 
"you want to see my wings?" he murmurs, leaning down. brushing a light hand on your shoulder, he skims the glow of your skin, reaching behind you and letting the tips of his fingers brush the feathers of your wings. 
you still. a strange feeling spreads through you, the room swimming slightly as it makes your head go light, settling deep inside your bones with a dark pulse. this is something you've never felt in heaven – and you're not sure if you want to scream, or run, or guide his hand further on your shoulder blades, letting them linger on places you're sure no angels would ever touch… 
"can you show me?" your voice, achy and soft, is the only sound he can hear. 
and he can't help but wonder, as he guides you towards the back door with a hand on the small of your back, your footsteps barely touching the ground, holy light misting around your body in dizzying waves, – what is an angel like you doing in a place like this?
x
you close your eyes, but open them to find yourself sitting up in an unfamiliar bedroom. 
not the one you had just gone to sleep in - this one had dark silk sheets instead of your white ones, a red glow cast over everything from the lights above. it made you dizzy, and your mouth felt dry as you turned and realised you weren't alone.
the angel you just met was sleeping peacefully next to you, his wings tucked out of sight, skin glowing slightly even under the red light. one of his large hands rests on your thigh, and you suck in a breath at the sight of his veins protruding from his arms and over the back of his hands, long fingers seeming to burn against your skin. 
something stirs in you, a heat you've never felt before that creeps all the way from your navel to the tips of your toes. you didn't know why, but you felt the urge to press your thighs together, letting out a small sigh at the tiny bit of relief it allowed you. you hardly know what you're doing, as if you're being controlled by some higher power or deeper desire, when you guide his hand between your legs with your own trembling ones. 
his fingers twitch, and you freeze. 
his eyes open slowly, nothing innocent about the way his eyes slide over your body and stop at where his hand is nestled between your legs. parting his lips, his eyes flick back to yours, a careful eyebrow raised. 
"angel…what are you doing?"
x
"that's called a dream, sweetheart." 
rubbing your eyes, you steady yourself on the kitchen counter. "so it's not real?" 
"it's not," haechan assures you, kindly. 
"is it…like…my imagination?" 
"some dreams can be pure imagination, but sometimes dreams are our mind's way of letting us know what we want," he explains, purposefully. you sit there, lost in thought, as he brings out dishes from the kitchen and encourages you to eat breakfast. 
while in the human realm, you were bound by the limitations of any human form – needing to sleep, being able to dream, having to eat and drink to sustain your energy. and although there were still aspects of your divinity which spilled over: such as your wings, and the heavenly fire which made you glow, haechan was much more interested in the other ways mortality would change you. 
your propensity to feel lust and desire, primarily. 
"so…" you chew on your lip. "the people in my dream…are they…actually….in there with me?"
haechan smiles to himself. "i don't know what you mean, angel," he fakes a look of genuine confusion when his eyes refocus on you. "who did you dream about last night?" 
"you," you answer, honestly. 
"really? what were we doing?" 
you drop your fork.
haechan laughs lightly when you fumble for it on the ground, smiling serenely back at you when you straighten up, looking at him through your lashes. 
"but, if you don't know…" you tilt your head to the side, slight hopefulness in your voice, "doesn't that mean you weren't actually in my dream last night?" 
"well…" cocking his head to the side to match your own movements, he relishes the way you tense up when he makes eye contact. "we'll only know for sure if you tell me what you were dreaming about." 
your hands fly to your mouth and you shake your head. haechan watches with fascination at the way you mist sparkling light, blush tinting your cheeks with embarrassment. "i don't want to say," you whisper. 
you don't have to say anything. haechan still remembers the way you had looked at him when he opened his eyes, the thrill of feeling you guide his hand to your core. 
dipping into your dreams had been easier than usual, your mind offering up no resistance at all and handing over all reins of control to him. 
"angel?" 
it takes him a second to realize you're referring to him. 
"yes?" 
"i realised i don't know your name." 
he only hesitates for a split second. "it's haechan," he decides. full-sun – a typical angel name. you test it on your tongue, carefully forming the sounds, and he savors it.
he can't wait for nighttime again. 
x
the second time you wake up in a dream, you almost feel at ease in the familiar red-light flooded bedroom, relaxing further when you realise it's empty this time. 
this is just my imagination, you remind yourself.
getting up from the bed, you tiptoe over to the window, looking out at the starry sky. it calms you even further, giving you the courage to turn around and explore your surroundings. aside from a bedside cabinet, and the ridiculously large bed, the room was quite empty.
wondering what lay beyond the bedroom, you make your way to the door of the bedroom, and your hand is just on the doorknob when-
"angel."
if this was just your imagination, then why did it seem so real? 
haechan lay on the bed you woke up in, one hand fisting the black silk sheets while the other traced down his body, writhing with what looked like pain. his eyes were closed, lips parted as he let out small sounds of some emotion you couldn't quite place. 
even as you try to take in what you're seeing, your mind races as you pick up a million other details. you've never seen him in clothes like this before — straps and buckles adorning his chest and pulling in his waist sharply so that you can catch every heaving breath he takes. and when his hand slides lower, ghosting under the waistline of his pants, the soft fabric shifts and you can faintly see the shape of something twitching between his legs. 
"haechan?" crossing over to the bed quickly, you place a hand on his shaking thigh, withdrawing it as if scalded when his back arches and he lets out a moan. "sorry-" you blurt out, "did i hurt you?"
"angel," he whimpers, eyes still closed as he rubs his palm over the front of his pants, his other trailing up under his shirt and teasing over his chest. "fuck-" you suck in a sharp breath at the profanity.
you know there's something wrong about the scene before you. there's nothing holy in the way he tilts his head back to let out a slew of sounds, the line between what was pain and what was pleasure blurring as his lips glisten with saliva, and when he slides that familiar veiny hand underneath his waistband, you could swear he purred. 
and surely, there was something desperately wrong with you too, because the ache between your thighs that you felt the last night was now burning something unbearable, and you felt the urge to reach out and touch him, hear what sounds he would make under your fingertips, beg him to open his eyes so you can see that hungry look again. 
his body stills.
his breathing slowly calms down, his hands slowly releasing himself from under his clothes, falling limply on the sheets. silence fills the room again and static buzzes so loud in your ears you feel like you're about to burst into flames. you don't know what you're doing, as you reach for one of his hands, guiding it towards your mouth as you dart out the tip of your tongue to taste the sticky white substance coating his fingertips. 
and then his eyes open, staring directly at you. 
x
"haechan?" 
"mmhm?" 
"did you dream, yesterday?" you ask him, hesitantly.
"yeah," he answers, easily. 
"what did you dream about?" 
"nothing much. i was in bed, –" a small gasp, and another sound as the mug in your hands slips and falls onto the table with a small thud. he grins, continuing to work on the wards guarding your front door, listening to you clean up behind him. "why? was i in your dream again?" 
a long pause. "kind of." 
when he turns, you're looking at him guiltily, hands clasped tightly in front of you as you twist your fingers this way and that. 
"angel…" he soothes, but the name only makes you shiver. crossing over to you, he pulls you into a comforting hug, your body relaxing under his touch as you lean your head against his chest. you can hear his words through his chest, a low hum filling your ears and making you feel so safe. 
"the dreams…" you admit, softly. "they're so scary…and confusing…i wish i didn't have to dream anymore, i don't think i like it at all…"
"do you want me to stay by your side when you fall asleep again? i can wake you when the dreams make you uncomfortable." 
you nod, eyes shining up at him with adoration and gratitude. 
he just can't wait for nighttime again. 
x
you can't fall asleep. 
haechan holds you against his chest, one of his thighs slotted carelessly between yours. he's resting peacefully, looking angelic under the moonlight, an arm slung protectively around your waist. but if it weren't for your white sheets and your familiar bedroom – adorned with flowers you had picked and shiny trinkets he collected for you, you would have mistaken it for another dream because of the desperate heat that throbbed inside you. 
you didn't know what to do to relieve the pain, body shifting clumsily as you tried to move your hips or rub your thighs against each other, the movement blocked by the way your legs were tangled together. frustrated, you give your hips a rough pulse against his thigh, and freeze when the sensation offers you more than a little relief, an insidious sweetness in your core. 
you move your hips again, grinding gently on his plush thighs, then a little harder as you realise it feels better the more friction there is as you rub against him. and now you're positively humping his leg, breaths coming quick and fast, whines seeping out from behind your closed lips as you try to make the pain go away, chasing pleasure as it comes. 
"angel?"
a rough hand grips your waist, and you gasp. 
haechan's wide eyes meet yours, darker than you've ever seen before, and for some reason when his hand squeezes your side you find yourself shifting even more uncontrollably against him, seeking the friction you craved. 
"i'm sorry!" your voice comes out as a whimper, as you try to back away from him. the room is burning hot, dizzying heat making you gulp. "i don't know what came over me, i just really-" your whole body flooded with shame and guilt, you pull his hand away from where it squeezes your waist.
"hey, hey, it's okay…" in the moonlight, you can see his face morph into an expression of understanding, a sense of authority in the way he helps you sit up and pulls you into his lap. he sweeps you into his arms, and you feel safer than ever before as you straddle him, your body melting with his as you nuzzle your face into his chest, still feeling the aftershocks of embarrassment when you realize he just caught you doing something so unspeakable to his unconscious body. 
you whimper out another apology, letting each stroke of your hair calm you down as he hums, low in his chest, the sound shooting straight to your core in a way that both thrills and frightens you.
"is this what the dreams were about?" 
"yes," you mumble, the sound of your heartbeat still rushing in your ears. timidly, you lift your head to meet his gaze. "i don't know why this is happening, i've never felt this way before…" 
"like this?" his hand slowly snakes down in between your legs, cupping your core with his large hand. the heel of his hand presses against some part of your core, and you keel over into him again, body shuddering as your hips buck into his hand instinctively, as if you were made to react that way. soft whimpers rise from the back of your throat as you nod in response to his question, body moving clumsily as you grind against his fingers. 
haechan swallows, hard. the image of his angel, dressed in that tissue-paper thin white nightgown, humping desperately against his hand like a bitch in heat, was more arousing than he could have ever anticipated. he wants to push you down to the bed and fuck you hard, splitting you apart on his cock and making you beg to cum, he wants to- 
"help me-," you pant in his ear, hips now moving in jagged circles, as if your body can't decide whether to lean into the pleasure or move away from it. "please, i don't know what's happening…"  
"angel, do you trust me?" he murmurs, quietly. 
the answering moan you let out punctures the air. "mmphh…
yes…" you gulp, hands now pawing at his chest as he ghosts his fingers over your clothed core. 
"then trust me when i say that all angels experience this," he advises, calmly. you're enraptured by his every word, and he leans even closer to you as he presses an insistent finger against your clit, smiling to himself as your body shudders.
hopefully, you gasp into his neck. "really?" 
dipping his fingers under your panties, he begins to rub slow circles on your clit, relishing the way you shake under his touch. "of course," he murmurs, voice dropping an octave. 
pressure begins to build up in your core as you submit to the feeling. you close your eyes, feeling him rub and pinch at your clit in a way that makes your hips jerk and your thighs go weak. you push your hips into his lap, not even really sure about what you're doing, being met with something hard that makes you whimper as it ghosts over your clothed cunt. strangely, when your hips meet his, haechan also lets out a pained groan, the hand at your core speeding up, wet sounds filling the room as he dips lower and lower, fingers tracing around your slit as he throws his head back and lets out a moan. 
"am i hurting you?" you ask, panicked, hips stuttering to an unsteady halt as you place both palms flat on his chest, trying to push yourself away from what was threatening to unravel you. "haechan i'm so sorry, i must be really bad at this-" 
he interrupts you with a searing kiss, his mouth moving against yours, tongue stroking into your mouth and claiming all your sounds. pulling you back against his body, his hips drag sinfully upwards, grinding into you with just the smallest hint of desperation. 
feeling you fuck yourself against his clothed cock, mind clouded with desire and not a single idea of what you were doing – knowing he could corrupt you in so many different ways, had his head spinning with all the possibilities.  
"you're perfect, angel." pushing you so you lay flat against the bed, he clambers over your body, all the while sponging kisses on your neck with a sweet tenderness.
"but," you shake your head, trying to get rid of the haze in your mind. "you sound like you're in pain, and-" 
"you wanna make it better, angel?" 
nodding vigorously, you sit up and almost hit your forehead against his. "please!" you beg, hands fumbling beyond your control as you struggle with the the waistband of his pants, trying to tug them down so you can see what he was doing in your last dream, so you could help with where it hurts. "i want to help, i want to make you feel good…" 
his hands sweep your wrists into a tight grip, and your movements freeze. you look up at him, breath caught in your throat. 
"from now on, angel…" he traps your hands above your head, his other dragging your nightgown up your waist with a flat palm, still trying to feel as much soft skin under his hands as possible. "can you be quiet for me? can you do that, sweetheart?" 
you nod, bottom lip snug as you bite down on it. he knows you won't be able to hold it for long. 
"i'm going to make you feel so good, angel," he breathes, hand now tugging your panties down your legs at a sinful pace. he answers your silent question with a smile. "feel how wet you are? do you know what this means, baby?" he taunts, quietly. 
"all of this…" he slides two fingers against your slick core, smiling as your hips thrust up, your body responding to him and completely out of your control. "all of this shows me how much you like me, angel." 
one long finger slides into your core, and he lets out a filthy groan at the way your tight pussy sucks him in, tight and eager. 
"have you ever touched yourself here before?" 
you shake your head. "i didn't know i could," you mumbled, hips still stuttering, fucking yourself on his finger. "haechan…it feels so…" 
he starts to slide his finger out, thrusting it slowly against your walls, this thumb comes out to rub your clit, and your back arches, a gasp wrenched from your throat as you cum, uncontrollably, all over his hand.
pulling his hand out from your core and freeing your wrists, he silences every single one of your gasps with a kiss, tenderly nipping at your lips as his hands roam over your body. he just made his angel cum for the first time. 
"m-more," you pant, hands scratching down his back as you attempt to thrust up against his stomach. "haechan- i don't mean to be greedy, but i want… i want…" 
two fingers slide easily into your core, your moans morphing into a pleasurable sigh as your eyes roll back in your head, drunk on a feeling you've never felt before. a slow heat crawls around your body, wrapping itself around you and suffocating until all you can think about are his veiny hands, the hard length in his pants, and the way you still felt empty even as he pushed a third finger into you. 
"you see how your cunt just sucks my fingers in?" his voice is baby-talk pitched, and you fall even harder under his spell, nodding vigorously as your thighs clamp shut around his hand. "such an insatiable, needy slut… thought you were supposed to be an angel, hmm?" you claw at his body, hips moving in time with the way his fingers were moving in and out of you. 
haechan feels like he's in seventh heaven, the way you're losing your mind over just his hand, obsessive over a feeling you can't even articulate. he crooks his fingers against your walls, a triumphant glow thundering in his chest when he sees you fall apart even more. 
it's when you're on the brink of cumming for a second time, your body glowing like a bonfire, spilling light all over the room, when he suddenly withdraws his hand. leaning back against the headboard, he tugs his pants down and feels his thick cock slap up against his stomach, precum glistening from the angry red tip. 
he's not prepared for the sight of you, on all fours, crawling towards him, eyes wide and begging. as if in a trance, your hand reaches towards his cock, and your palm wraps around it curiously, giving it a hard stroke. his lets out another groan, one of his own hands wrapping around yours and encouraging you to squeeze even harder, focusing your attention on the tip and covering it with your fingers. 
"i know a way that can make both of us feel good." he makes sure there's nothing but sincerity in his eyes as he watches your head shoot up in excitement. 
"how?" 
pulling you into his lap again, and whispering his words sinfully against your lips, he coaxes you with a quick nip to your bottom lip, a swipe of his tongue against yours. "let me fuck your sweet cunt, hm?" he pants. fingers sliding expertly into your cunt, he wraps an arm around your waist as he makes scissoring motions in you, stretching you out. "bet you feel so empty…" he pouts, nodding sympathetically towards you. "i can fill you up so good, angel, you'll realize this is what you were made for…" 
your mind is slipping out of your grasp. you forget everything about being an angel, about how weird it felt to be touched like this, how you never once had another angel touch you between your legs, ideas of purity and innocence and sin blurring in a happy haze. 
"are you…" you gulp, eyeing the girth of his cock, the way it twitched under your palm as you squeezed. "are you sure it'll fit…in me?" you wonder aloud. 
"would you rather have me fuck your throat, angel?" 
"would that work?" and fuck, you're back on your knees, head dangerously close to his cock as your tongue darts out, licking up a shiny bead of precum from his slit. he's frozen in place as he watches you nuzzle your face against it, making a soft whiny sound at the back of your throat as you messily tongue at the base, his cock twitching against the soft skin of your cheek. "i don't…" you lap tentatively at his tip, using a hand to steady yourself on his thigh, the other gripping his cock and gently sucking the tip into your mouth, withdrawing when you feel the stretch against your lips. "i don't think it'll fit…" 
"come here," he croaks, arms coming up to steady you as you rush up to meet him, doe-eyes searching his for answers to this desperate desire he's instilled within you. 
"i need you," you whimper, frustratedly. "haechan please, i'll be good for you, just make this feeling go away…"
his cock teases over your entrance, and your moan rips through the half-finished sentence on your lips. 
"feels good?" he murmurs, kissing you deeply again as he thrusts up gently into you. "sit on it, don't be shy angel…" 
steadying yourself on his shoulders, you sink down on him, stopping every few seconds as you feel a slight stretch. the prep you've done with his fingers and all the teasing allowing your walls to give way to him, snugly sucking him in as you pulse around his member. every time you whimper, wings fluttering where they were folded against your back, he kisses you gently, hands stroking up and down your spine and distracting you from the sensation in your lower half.
"just a bit more, baby…" he bottoms out in you, a satisfied groan rumbling in his chest as he squeezes you into his embrace, your arms wrapped around him, craving his skin against yours as you shudder. he's already ripping your nightgown from your body, the luscious feeling of bare skin making you purr in delight. 
your palms skid over his skin, settling on his shoulders as he gives a rough thrust upwards, and you feel his cock drag heavy against your walls. his hand moves purposefully over to your clit, mimicking a vibrating motion with his fingers so you only clench tighter around him. when you cum again – the inner sides of your thighs now so wet that the filthiest sounds fill the room every time your hips meet, he feels lke he could do this forever. 
slowing down his movements, he gently pushes your hair out of your face to give you a little break. "how do you feel, angel?" he asks, softly.
"g-good…" you hiccup, swivelling your hips this way and that, trying to find a rhythm now that he had stilled within you. 
he hums, still not moving, enjoying the way you squirm in his lap. "something wrong?" 
"it hurts…" you whine, now bouncing on his lap, nails digging into his shoulders. "it hurts when you don't move, haechan, please…" 
"do you believe me when i said you were made for me?" 
"yes," you rasp out, as he starts to fuck into you again, making you feel every ridge and vein on his cock as he grinds up into you, blunt tip insistent against your sweet spot and making you feel that mind-numbing pleasure again. 
"is this all you're good for, angel? sitting in my lap, looking pretty…" he bites down on your neck, and you let out a soft cry. "being fucked open on me…" 
you nod, words leaving you as you melt under his strong grip. 
"making me so happy, angel," he murmurs, and you smile dopily up at him, panting. 
"you like making me happy?' 
you nod, swallowing hard as you work yourself into a frenzy, and he loves it, loves the way you rock your hips into his at an embarasing pace, sensitivity all at once too much for you and never enough. he watches as your eyes roll back into your head, wings bursting open with the sheer force of how hard you cum, walls squeezing him so tight that he can barely move as he lets go too. you gasp when you feel his warmth painting your walls, a new sensation on top of everything you've experienced that night making you let out a distressed whine. 
"be good for me, angel, hmm?" he coaxes, pulling you harder down onto his lap so you can't free yourself from his embrace. "let me fill you up."
dumbly, succumbing to the way he pulls you in for another kiss, you let your eyelids flutter shut, an overwhelming sense of fatigue flooding your entire system. until the room goes blurry at the edges, and the last thing you're aware of is haechan's hands sliding low on your navel, feeling where he was buried deep inside you, hands pressing against the way you bulge out — his pretty little angel stretched out and filled with him.
x
he's never fucked an angel before, so it almost comes as a shock when he catches a glimpse of you on his way out of your bathroom, immobile on your bed, skin drained of all its heavenly glow, a dullness so abrupt he freezes.
if he was to be honest, which he almost never had to be, his original plan had included leaving immediately after he got you in his bed. he had only been drawn to the idea of defiling an angel, filling you up with a need you never felt before, staining the glow of innocence that lit up your skin from beneath. 
he wanted the sight of you on your knees — of tears rolling down your cheeks. but he never prepared for this – 
haechan. 
your voice murmurs in his head, and he can hear how hoarse and fragile it is. he doesn't dare to move as he watches you, so motionless you're barely breathing, your body shielded by your wings and drawing his attention to how your feathers look like they would crumble into ashes. 
your voice creeps into his head again, and it's like some form of sick retribution – first he plays with your dreams, and now he doesn't know if it's really your voice in his mind or if it's some sort of guilt that seeped out of you and into him. 
haechan?
he moves without meaning to, the next thing he knows he's sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands sliding against the sheets towards you. 
"angel?" 
your eyes open to look at him, and through the haze of fatigue and your slow blinking, he can see that you're terrified. 
what's happening to me? 
he touches the tip of your wing. he pitches his voice low, and soothing.
"you're just adjusting from being in the human world," he murmurs. 
what if what we just did was wrong? tears well up in your eyes, and your lips part in a silent cry. haechan, i've never felt like this before…
he shushes you with a soft sound, leaning over to gather up your limbs and hold you against his chest, rocking you back and forth as he murmured praises into your hair. 
"how could it be wrong if it felt so good, angel?" wiping away your tears with a careful finger, he smiles encouragingly at you, pressing a light kiss to your cheek.
you nod, hanging onto his every word, letting it wash over you as your truth.
 "and also…" his voice dips. "didn't you see how happy you made me just now?" he murmurs, lips nipping at your ear. "don't you like making me happy?"
you nod again. 
hesitating, his hand cups your face, stroking over your jaw. he knows what would make you stronger again — something he read about angels surfacing in his mind before, recalling how your power was usually most concentrated in the column of your throat, and why it was extra sensitive. creatures would slit your throat for just a taste of your angel's grace, but if he were just to touch you at your sweet spot, feel your divinity underneath his fingertips and coax it to grow stronger with his own powers…
quietly, so as not to startle you, he slides his hand to your neck, tracing his fingertips over where your pulse point would be. your body begins to stir as he rubs circles closer to the back of your neck,  limbs twitching back to life and falling limp again. 
"how does it feel, angel?" he asks, softly. 
your lips part. "strange…" your voice is raw, a hollow and broken sound. "never felt this before…" 
he reaches the nape of your neck, and suddenly your hand flies up to grab his wrist in a strong hold – halting his movements and causing him to freeze as your nails dig into his skin, threatening to pierce through to his veins. "don't-!"
"i'm not going to hurt you," he murmurs, voice dripping patience and tenderness as he slowly pries each of your fingers off his wrist, interlocking his other hand with yours. "this is going to feel really good, okay?" 
your body continues to squirm against his, finger locking his in a death grip as he ghosts his hand over the nape of your neck, finally locating your most vulnerable spot judging by the way you let out a soft sound in his ear. he applies more pressure, massaging his fingers in soothingly and whispering praises to drown out your whimpering. 
and sure enough, your glow begins to come back – starting from where his hand held yours, a warm golden light which flowed through your veins and under your skin, your body heating up and enveloping him in that blissful glow again. you taste sweet when he presses a careful kiss to your collarbone, and if he listens closely he can almost hear your body hum with power, wings fluttering against your back as their ashy color seems to wash itself off, replaced with the pristine glow he'd taken a liking to. 
"haechan?" 
"yes, angel?" 
"when can we do that again?" you mumble, shyly. 
fuck that – he was beginning to grow obsessed with you. 
x
strolling with you outside, haechan lets the fresh air wash over him and calm him down. you look ethereal next to him, passerby's eyes glazing over when they catch sight of the way you seem to glide rather than walk, peering curiously at the different shop windows and dreamily staring at the stars above. possessively, he wraps an arm around your waist just so anyone who looks at you looks at him too, and realises you're his as much as he was yours. 
"this is so pretty," you whisper to him, tugging him to a display of diamond jewelry up ahead. he's learnt that you like shiny things and the smell of spring-time, that he could make your skin glitter by gently nipping at your bottom lip when he kissed you. looking at you and completely ignoring the jewels behind glass, he takes in the familiar look of love in your eyes and smiles. 
he could have robbed the store for you before you even had the time to blink. a snap of his fingers and the very necklace you were pointing at could have made its way onto your neck. or he could have had some fun with you and convinced you to steal it, coax you into doing one more terrible thing. 
but he pulls you into the store anyway – even as you latch onto his arm nervously, tugging at his sleeve telling him you don't need the pretty jewels. but still he patiently converses with the store attendant, encouraging you to pick out the pieces you liked the most, enjoying the genuine happiness in your eyes as he spoiled you with gifts. 
when the attendant is busying himself in the back room, you peek over at him with barely contained excitement, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. 
"i'll make it up to you," you breathe, arms hooked around his neck. 
"how?" 
"i…" you look at him through your lashes, and he can feel your skin heat up. "i can do that thing you talked about last time…" 
"what thing?" he presses, pulling you closer so all of your attention is focused on him. 
you barely notice, caught up in your thoughts. "when i asked…and you told me…" 
"angel," he says, lowly. his voice is more raspy than he thought it would be, rough with need. "i won't know what you mean if you don't say it-" 
"you can fuck my throat," you say, softly. he searches your eyes and sees that you're embarrassed, yes, even a little guilty at the crude words which your lips just formed, but there's no trace of fear at all. you trust him wholly and completely, your breathing tinged with desperation as it picks up, as you brush up closer to him. when he doesn't respond, you hesitate a little, trying to decipher his expression. "if…if you still want to." 
"want to?" he murmurs. 
"i might not be very good at it, but you can teach me-" 
groaning, he swallows the rest of your sentence with a hungry kiss, the kind that lifts you off your feet and makes you feel like you're flying and falling all at once. 
x
he takes you home in an instant, dropping the bags of necklaces and diamonds as he pushes you roughly against the bedroom door. you slide to your knees in between his spread legs, his pretty angel, eyeing him with a maddeningly innocent look of wonder on your face. 
"how…how are you going to…" 
"do you want me to teach you?" 
you nod excitedly, hands now stroking his thighs absentmindedly, and he has to stifle a groan. 
"what if…" he clears his throat. "what if i changed my mind? what if i don't want to teach you anymore?" 
"please-" your eyes widen with fear. "i'll be good for you..." he still looks unconvinced, so more words fall at random from your lips. "and if i'm not good enough, you can punish me-" 
pulling you up, he kisses you harshly. it was almost as if you were rotten through and through, and it was all because of him. 
"i don't think there will be a need for punishments, angel," he assures you, gently pushing you back down on your knees as he shoves his pants down, tongue poking into his cheek and stretching his puffy lips apart as he watches the way you eye his cock almost hungrily. 
you start out by taking just the tip into your mouth, suckling on it lightly and letting go with a gasp when you feel like you can't breathe. he trains you through it, coaxing you to take more and more, holding your head down when you feel like giving up and stroking your face encouragingly every time you smile back at him, lips messy with drool and precum, eager for his approval. 
he finally gets you to sink down on him — feel your hot wet tongue licking over his veins, shoving your way through and choking yourself on his length, nose hitting his navel as your nails dig into his thighs with pain, trying desperately hard to breathe through your nose like he taught you as he fucks his hips up experimentally. 
it's like one of his filthiest fantasies, the way he pulls out to cum all over your face — your mouth lewdly open and trying to lick up as much of him as you could, unaware of how it made you look. 
"i'm sorry, angel," and he swears he almost feels it, as he pushes his fingers deep into you, rewarding you for your good behavior. "next time, i won't make it so messy." 
but you shake your head vigorously, back arching into his chest as your thighs clamp around his hand. "'m always making a mess of you too," you mumble, blush spreading to the tips of your ears as you smile up at him. "i don't mind you making a mess of me." 
drawing away from your body, he keeps his eyes on you the whole time he crawls down to situate himself between your legs. he keeps his eyes on you so he can catch the first look of surprise, confusion, and pure desire that spreads across your face when he sucks your clit into his mouth. 
"sometimes, i wish you could hear the things you say to me the way that i hear them." he laps at your entrance, and you swear you see stars. "you're so filthy, angel."  
and in the darkness of the room, you glow even brighter with pride. 
x
haechan feels a little stupid right now, sitting in his booth, letting some human girl put her hands all over him and hoping you're watching. 
"i'll only be a minute," he had murmured into your ear. "have something to take care of."
and for the past 5 minutes he's played his part well – fingers tilting her chin up so he can whisper words into her ear and brush his lips against her neck. playing with strands of her hair, eyes half-lidded and body slumped against hers, legs carelessly spread. he knows it's making her dizzy simply being around him, his body radiating lust.
it's when she slides into his lap that he finally feels your eyes on him, picking up on the way your breath hitches in a small gasp from all the way across the room. he doesn't bother to hide his smile as he rubs his thumbs on the girl's bare waist in slow, tantalizing circles. begging for you to take the bait. 
all the way across the room, your body tenses, hands trembling slightly as your vision zeroes in on haechan and the girl draped over him. you watch as she guides his eager hands up her thighs, the glint of his smile almost blinding in the dark. something roars inside your chest, clawing at your lungs, an acidic something you've never felt before threatening to melt you from the inside out as you watch her lean in towards him, lips dragging across his jaw where you had kissed him last. 
haechan closes his eyes when he feels her lean in, lips falling open as he mimics the look of someone lost in pleasure, hoping to rile you up even more. her lips barely brush his skin before he feels something searing hot take its place, pure pain rippling up from his palms where he was touching her skin. his eyes shoot open as he sits up with a jolt, but he doesn't have to look long to understand what happened.
the lifeless body of the human girl slumps to the dirty floor of the club. towering above her, wings fully extended, skin glowing so bright he could hardly make out your features, you look down at him with gold flashing in your eyes. 
"when you said you had something to take care of, did you mean her?" 
exhilaration races through him, your jealousy and your anger feeding each pump of blood in his veins. 
"angel-"
he starts to speak, but you cut him off with a tight hand on his wrist. 
"no." 
light briefly darts across his vision, the scene melting like wax as your bedroom materialises soundlessly around the both of you. 
he didn't even know you could do that. 
when you let go of his wrist, your wings are folded again, your skin returned to its normal pale glow. but there's nothing normal about the way you sink onto him on the bed, his body pliant under your touch in a way he isn't even able to control, all semblance of the power he just gained draining from him as you put your hands on his chest. 
"did i do something wrong?" you murmur, your voice lower than he had ever heard it. "is that why you went looking for her?"
his lips part, mouthing soundlessly as your weight shifts on him. he had forgotten how to speak, the way you were looking at him stealing his breath from his lungs and turning his mind to mush.
"why did you let her touch you?" you demanded, a slight growl to your voice he never heard before. "hm?"
"i'm s-sorry," he whispered. 
"do you want her?" your eyes flash dangerously, your skin burning hot to touch now, wings rustling along your shoulder blades. your hair moving unnaturally despite there being no wind in the room, reaching out and curling in lazy tendrils at the base of his neck. "are you thinking of her right now?" 
dazed and drunk on your voice, he shakes his head, eyes never moving from yours. drool glistens on his lips, his body numb under your spell. 
"want me, haechan," you breathe, pressing yourself into him needily, dipping your head so you can feel his labored breathing on your lips, lips brushing his as you beg – when really you have him under your complete control. "tell me you want me, just me." you push your hips against him, and he can feel himself throb with need. 
"i want you," he whimpers. "fuck, angel, i want you so bad, please-"
"show me," you murmur, your nails scratching down his chest and making him moan out breathily as you lift your weight from his. moving so you lie back against the headboard, you watch as he takes a second to catch his breath before scrambling up, eyes wild and movements jerky. 
positioning himself in between your legs, his hands drag your skirt up your thighs haphazardly, breath hitching when he sees you're already bare for him. 
"angel," he says without thinking, "fuck, angel, you're perfect." he dips his tongue into your cunt, moaning loudly and lewdly as your sweet arousal floods his tastebuds. sloppily moving his mouth over your folds, his tongue circles your clit expertly before dipping down to collect your juices. he moves his head this way and that, mindlessly holding you in place with strong arms as he licks his tongue as deep into you as it will go. your thighs clamp tight around his head, and he lets out a muffled sob of approval, his stiffened tongue pushing past your tight entrance and nose bumping your clit with his movements. 
you can feel your climax approaching, your body trained by him to respond to his touches. thrusting your hips into his face, he frees a hand to slip a finger into your tight hole, mumbling with pleasure when he feels you suck him in. 
"want my angel to cum," he begs, desperation dripping from his tone. the pads of his fingers brush your sweet spot, the warmth of your skin spiking again as the feeling makes you glow with pleasure, trapping him in a heat haze between your thighs. "my pretty angel," he hums approvingly, slipping in another finger. your hips twist this way and that but he pins you down firmly with his arm, stretching you out with his fingers as his lips move back to your clit. his mind is flooded with the thought of you and your pleasure, your small whimpers and each tremble of your body making his body buzz with satisfaction. his mind wiped clean of everything but your smell and taste. he spells out your name with his tongue, silken movements on your clit paired with rough drags of his fingertips against your walls finally making you release all over his face. 
he moans as he laps it up, sticking his fingers in his mouth to savor it. dizzy, he blinks up at you, feeling lightheaded as reality rushes towards him in a tidal wave. 
what the fuck did you just do to him? 
"angel." he starts, shaking his head to clear it again, loosening himself from your grip. "what did you…"
"did I hurt you?" you cup his face in your hands in one swift movement, tilting his head up so his eyes remain fixed on yours. "haechan? is everything okay?"
it's the way you say his name that pulls him right under again. gold specks dance in your eyes as your voice lowers, and it's like you slow time, and he can see your every word hang in the air, feel your angel's glow seep from the pads of your fingers into his bones and liquify every particle of him. 
"i-i…" he stammers. "angel…" 
"why did you stop?" his pretty pink mouth falls open when you place a thumb on his lower lip, his eyes glazing over as you let out a needy whine. "haechan…"
wordlessly, because he's forgotten all forms of language, he pulls you into his lap, letting you straddle him as he blinks up at you adoringly. kissing your collarbones, he removes your dress with shaky movements, reduced to nothing more than a human, forgetting to use his powers entirely as he shoves his own clothes away. 
his lips never leave your skin, sucking messy bruises and nuzzling his nose against your warmth. you're misting light in a hypnotic glow, and he's sure it's the reason why he's so hard it hurts, shaky hands now ghosting over your hips as he tries to stop himself from cumming untouched. 
"will you be good for me?"
amidst the fog in his brain, arousal shoots through him when he hears the words rise from your throat, and he bucks his hips up instinctively. his cock slides against your folds, and he lets out a choked sob, gripping onto your hips even tighter as he throws his head back. 
"i'm yours", he whimpers, hips shallowly thrusting up into you. a high pitched moan rips from his throat as he feels you sink down on him, gummy walls clenching onto him like never before. 
"are you mine?" you murmur, neediness still dripping from every syllable even as you have him reacting to your slightest touches like a livewire. you circle your hips, causing his to stutter. 
his arms wrap around your body, worshiping you with his touch. "i'm yours," he trembles, hips thrusting up to pound further into your heat. you clench hard around him, and he loses all control, cumming into you with an embarrassed whimper, his head falling against your chest. he slows to a stop as he feels himself coat your walls, sensitivity making him hiss.
"more," you urge, and his body reacts to the command before he realises what he's doing, thrusting up into you again as his voice cracks and jumps like a broken record. through tears in his eyes, he admires the way you look as you bounce on him, chest heaving and skin flushed, the soft sounds you make. he speeds up even as it hurts, a hand snaking in between your bodies to press at your clit, rubbing it in quick motions. 
"angel," he whimpers, like a prayer, breathing rough and shallow. "angel." you trace a hand on his cheek, and he nuzzles his face into it, bucking up into you with more fervor. he'd do anything to make you feel good, in that moment, no matter what it took. 
he cums when you do, feeling slick ooze out from where he was stuffed into you. he doesn't stop rubbing your clit, forcing your walls to clench in spasms around him. whimpering against your lips, you let him drive you into overstimulation as he fucks his spent cock into you again, dribbling out the last bit of cum he had left. 
when he pulls out of you, letting out a last gasp of pain, your eyelids are already starting to droop. the room is cold and silent without your glow, and he watches dazedly as you drain of all light again, a dullness spreading from in between your wings, faster than the last time. his whole body feels sore and spent, his arms barely able to hold you up as you slump against him. you look fucked out, and ashen, and — 
he pulls you in for a soft kiss. moving his mouth gently over yours, feeling stronger when you sigh into his mouth. his fingers caress the inner edge of your wings gently, moving to stroke comforting circles down your spine, his hand eventually trailing its way to the nape of your neck. 
"haechan…" 
"is this okay?" he murmurs, applying gentle pressure with his fingertips. your noses brush as you blink sleepily up at him, and he watches a little bit of glow flicker to life in your eyes, feeling your skin warm under his touch. you squirm a little in his arms, head nuzzling into his neck and throat letting out a soft whimper. 
"why…" you bite your lip as he applies a bit more pressure, "why is it always you taking care of me?"
the answer comes to him easier than breathing. "because you're my angel." 
"but i-" 
he gently maneuvers you around in his lap, strong arms lifting you so your back faces him instead. brushing your hair aside and gathering it up in one hand with a tenderness you can't even begin to place, his plush lips begin to graze your neck, reverently sponging kisses on the sweet spot he's had burned into his memory. you tilt forward, tingles running down your spine, but his arms encircle you and pull you back until you're almost flush against his chest.
this time, when he presses a soft kiss to your skin, warmth rushes through you like a shot of pure light through storm clouds, your whole body alight. 
"i want to take care of you too," you say, quietly. and then, bolder, "i don't know if i'm just weak because i haven't been here very long, but this never seems to affect you like it affects me…"
"you're not weak, baby," another kiss, a gentle brush of his forefinger. "you're just an angel." 
"but you're an angel too," you insist. 
haechan's chest aches. 
you continue, "and you never seem to grow weak whenever we…whenever we…" 
"that's because you're always so good for me." now burying his face in your neck, he pulls you closer in his arms, closing his eyes so he can breathe you in. "you're too good for me, angel." 
you relax in his hold, and when he next opens his eyes, you're glowing as bright as all the stars in heaven put together. 
x
haechan thinks of the way you reacted when he first called you angel, weeks ago, in this very club. 
now, the air is sticky, and it clings to his skin too uncomfortably. bodies press up against him, eyes seeking his, but he doesn't meet any of them – his mind in a completely different place. 
your skin glows gently even in the dark bedroom. 
you lie on your chest, wings folded against the sheets, your face turned towards the side so that he can see just a hint of your features in the shadows. even as he backs towards the door, he feels the inexplicable urge to wake you from your sleep, if anything to see your eyes open again, drink in the doe-eyed sweetness. the entire time he sweeps through your apartment – carelessly erasing the traces of his presence, picking up his jacket, pocketing shiny trinkets he bought you, — he wishes you would wake up and cling close to him the way you always used to in the mornings. longing to feel the light on his skin again, your touch hesitant and needy all at once. 
lust, envy, wrath, pride – all of these meant nothing to him, but watching the way they drained you, and realizing that by corrupting you he was killing you softly every night…it clawed at him like nothing ever had before. 
looking up from his drink, he's startled to come face to face with a girl he's never seen before. her smile doesn't reach her eyes as she reaches out to touch his hand, fingers drawing practiced circles on his wrist. 
he didn't tamper with your dreams the night he left, but still he wondered if you were dreaming of him.
he takes a deep breath. 
"hey, angel."
taglist: @jenomov, @91qowngus, @sundhaelatte, @jaemboi64, @sassy-author, @matchahyuck, @prdshobi, @smwhrinthehaze, @yesohhsehun, @chimiwimi, @haechaniesunshine, @hyukiebb (can't tag- sorry!)
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merbear25 · 24 days ago
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for the kinktober list: law + mommy kink 👀 ? ive been thinking too hard about it ngl
Ohohoho, Law is a fabulous choice for this 🤭 Hope you like it 💜🧡
A man whose mind was constantly burdened by the past. What could soothe his woes and torment at night? The gentle embrace offered by his beloved gave lured out his more vulnerable side, one which only you could be trusted with.
CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader, established relationship, soft sex, mommy kink, breast play, vaginal penetration, masturbation (male receiving)
Reaching out for you (Law)
Laying in bed, the cool breeze shifting past the curtains gave him a slight shiver.
“Are you cold?” You asked while snuggling closer to him. His deep sigh that was normally dressed in irritation was instead accompanied with comfort.
“Would you like me to close the balcony door?” Your voice was low.
“No, I’m fine.” The warmth from your body offered a blanket on this unseasonably cold night. 
You held onto him closely, pressing your chest against his back and your hands possessively roaming over his chest. “You seem to have something on your mind,” you poked gently at the fact he was still wide awake.
He grumbled, making your kiss flatten into a smirk on his shoulder. You hummed. Looking at how he’d positioned himself, it was clear that he was calling out for your touch. The light trail of your fingers up his arm left goosebumps in its wake. He shifted to look at you: a face that held so much stoicism softened just for your eyes.
Fully turning to face you, he buried himself in the crook of your neck. You held him, while continuing to lightly rub his shoulders lovingly. “What’s happened?” The sincerity in your voice offered more than you realized.
“Just a lot on my mind is all.” Even with his reluctance to share what was happening inside his head, he was showing you how he needed you in that moment.
Your hand moved to the side of his head—gentle strokes of your thumb releasing the dread that was weighing on him. His eyes fluttered shut and he inhaled deeply, basking in the soothing sign of affection and your sweet scent. The feather-like peck of his lips had you looking down at him with a love like no other. Carefully, you lifted his chin, your eyes dancing on his for a moment before your lips met his.
There was a whirl of hurt behind his kiss, one that he knew only you could heal. Your hand cupped his face, then lightly placed itself before roaming over his chest. Your fingers clung to his tank top. Your soft gasp from him groping your breast was admired by the hunger in his eyes. With your nipple hardening under the pad of his thumb, he devoured the sight of you: the way your face twisted, the light huffs you made, and the rise and fall of your chest. The more attention he lavished your breasts with, the more difficult it was to keep your hands from wandering.
His eyes became half lidded, barely giving you a taste of the lust building behind them when your hand found its way to his hardening length. A low moan escaped him. Your delicate neck was much too inviting for him to ignore; his kisses were already hot and heavy but were nearing needy because of the grip you had on his burning desire.
Your free hand tangled in his soft black hair, earning you another groan. His tattooed hands kneaded at your breasts. As the heat built between you, he tugged down your spaghetti strapped top around your waist. The greed to see your beauty in its entirety was becoming increasingly overpowering.
At the sight of his eagerness, you wanted nothing more than to give him what he was desperate for. Your touch on his head grew more tender, guiding him to your cleavage. Burying himself between your breasts, you kept your strokes at a steady pace between his legs.
“Do you need mommy to take care of you tonight?” Your voice swirled around his head like a siren’s call.
Looking up at you from being pressed between your succulent flesh, he nodded. He took one of your nipples in his mouth, lathering it with his slick tongue. “Yes,” he murmured.
He nipped at your erect nipple to tempt a gasp out of that lovely mouth. Your strokes worked him to the point his head felt like it was spinning.
Closing his eyes, he panted against your bare chest. “Want mommy’s love.” The raw need for you in his voice played at your heartstrings just in just the way he wanted.
Your thumb played with the precum beading at his tip, coating the head with his own pent-up lust. “You know just how to get me to do what you want, don’t you?” Watching his face flush from the attention was riling you up even more.
He moaned when you focused on the head. The sounds of ecstasy waned the remainder of your self-control. “Come here, darling.”
You positioned yourself lower, angling your entrance with his now throbbing want for you. He pushed inside you, not willing to wait for you to sit fully on it. Spasming around his girth, you held onto him while motioning your hips in sync with his.
The heat of passion, the sounds of your shared ecstasy, the way you gripped him so tightly: he wrapped his arms around you, keeping you close as he groaned and grunted through the shockwaves of euphoria.
Gently stroking him with your soaked core, you held onto him just as tightly. “My sweet boy,” you whimpered. Your fingers tangled in his hair again, this time tugging gingerly. “My good boy,” you murmured.
Your soft praises hit that sweet spot just right, causing him to tremble from the nearing edge. The force of him meeting the fervor of your bounces pulled you along with him as that peak came into view.
“Mommy…” he groaned against your neck in an almost strangled tone.
Your eyes rolled back and your jaw slacked from the crashing forces of longing spilled over the edges. “Mommy’s here,” you breathed. 
With your hips slapping against his and the air thick with the scent of your devotion for each other, you realized you couldn’t hold on any longer. “Cum for me! Cum for mommy, baby!”
His entire body tensed from the waves completely engulfing him. The rush of his orgasm filled you to the brim, causing you to quickly follow suit. Slight thrusts were lazily added to help coast each other through the shared climax.
Your chests heaved, allowing your heartbeats to grace each other. The tender press of your lips against his dampened temple blanketed a familiar amenity from long ago. Pulling you against him even more tightly, you held him in your arms—an offer of serenity on a night that had been troubling his already worried mind.
It wasn’t long before you fell asleep in each other’s arms—dreams casted themselves on you with peace, easing you through whatever issues that may still be lingering.
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The odd one.
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Tav x Everyone
Warnings: depressions ; self harming behaviour ; bad english ; bad written lol ; im not good at writing endings ngl ; self doubts ; thoughts about suicide and even mentions ; descriptions of wounds ; teeny tiny bit of fluff ; drama ; angst ; idk poly relationship?
Note: hello everyone who thinks this is gonna be good lol. Its just a little drabble i really wanted to write but thats like my first fic/drabble ever so please be kind :') still i hope you enjoy that small thingy. Also i used they/them as tavs pronouns and theres no specific description to their look. Also there might be typos etc. English is not my native language!
If someone has to describe tav than they would probably take the word "odd". Odd because they were so clumsy that it was nothing new when they tripped over their own feet or stumble right into a trap, indicators where most started to think that they're absolutely not capable of fighting or at least not being good at it. Most would think that they're just gonna stumble into sword, or spells, and call it a day. But, much to everyones suprises, it wasnt like that. Tav was rather good at slaying things, beheading goblins or punch someone so hard that they're loosing foot - they were even good at taking hits until their nose run bloody and their lips were chapped, even bruised. The description of "odd' was perfect for them and still, it seems that there were even more things about them that made them so weird. Not only had they a habit of not treating their wounds probably, no, they also tried to downplay them and saying that they are not as bad as you think it is. Even when shadowheart tried to heal a claffing wound on their arm they just tried to get away from her healing spell - something about "dont waste it in me shadowheart, keep it until someone really needs it. Wyll got wounded too". It was weird but no one really questioned it, they shoved it onto the fact that tav was indeed a very selfless person. Always trying to do something good or even trying to give most of their being to people so that they didnt have to suffer - may it be a healing potion, a weapon or even the safe space behind a wall. Tav would always give up things like that, taking hits for every companion they got ans smile at them afterwards with reassuring words because "it doesnt hurt that much! Dont you worry!"
It was only time later when they found out the truth and its all because of that artist. Someone who they thought they're never gonna see ever again but here he was with a ghost in front of him and said ghost was just so mad at him that everyone was ready again to fight but instead they got to hear the whole story and when the ghost said why she was dead tavs eyes got dull for a second.
A second where it felt as if the ocean crashed right onto them, waves of unspoken sadness and a hidden longing no one wanted a admit, tidal waves who threaten to consume every last single bit of them, swallowing them whole and keeping them right into their embrace. It was as if someone spoke the right words for a curse to be lifted, a lingering curse everyone knew that it existed but no one wanted to admit. It was only then where everyone kind of knew why tav did things the way they did, why they never quite let their wounds heal or reopening them again in a battle. Why they never quite cared enough about themself to even try to heal anything about them. Why they never really took onto the pretty words everyone said to them in and out of camp, why they shied away from any ounce of love even though every single one loved them with such a burning passion that it would burn them and they would happily accept it. They would love to crumble under that heat and still they never really got it, of course they exchanged small little affecrionate gestures like hugs, cuddles or kisses on the cheek but it never seemed to go further than that. They knew that their tav was in shatters and pieces, still they tried to but them back together.. it just seemed that they never quite made it. As if it they were million miles away even though tav was right infront of them. Still that didnt stopped any of them to express their love for their leader, there was still hope that one day they would get into that broken little heart. Maybe they just needed time? Maybe love wouldnt heal them completely?
Maybe everything came into a full picture right here and then even though it was just a small second. After that incident everyone went back to camp where the inevitable came - all of them wanted to know what was going on but no one really dared to ask. It was such a delicate topic, they were scared that their beloved leader would built up even more walls, what they didnt know was the fact how much tavs heart ached - how much they yearned for the love they could have and even the relationship what was right infront of them. The only thing holding them back was fear. Fear that every single of them would see them as they see themself. That they would leave them with their heart in their hands and crush it like fallen leaves from a tree. They were so love and touched starved sometimes it felt like they were going crazy! They wanted all of this to be real and still there was a small voice in their heads telling them that they deserved none of this, that they are not important enough that someone would even care when they were gone. Just died in a battle or got swept away from the absolute. That all of them just love them because they were travelling together and as soon as the journey ends they going seperate ways. Astarion would live the life he wanted, karlach would get her own small home again, laezel fullfilling her wish of ascending, wyll roaming the coast, gale going back to tara and his tower, shadowheart living with her parents and halsin going back into the shadowlands so he can be with his old and beloved friend. That sounded real. That sounded like it would happen and not their little dream of living with them until death itselfs collects them. Still.. they dreamed about that little fantasy everyday, selfishly wanting that and nothing more. Just living in peace with every person they love.. then why does their heart hurt so much as soon as they're showing love for them? Is it too good to be true? Were they scared? Probably everything of the above.
So they really needed to talk to them all of them. And they're gonna do that, letting all of them into that broken heart of theirs and allowing themself to be happy?
... maybe if they let a little bit of sunshine into their pierced heart they may allow themself to dream a little longer with the. To accept the love they wanted to give. Maybe it wasnt such a bad wish after all?
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spyder-anon · 1 year ago
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patching up miles after a rough day
earth42! miles / earth1610! miles (aged up!)
miles moralesxblack! female reader
summary: miles visits you late at night once again, hurt and in need of help.
a/n: here’s to my first post! not sure how I feel about it but we all start somewhere. and thank you to bestie @miokienie for giving me the idea! enjoy!
earth42!
you get so sick of this man
he’ll often come to your place when he needs patching up cause he knows uncle aaron will tear him up; not like you won’t either, tho
“come on, mamí, you know you love me.” he’d tell you and grab your waist, pulling you close and resting his thumb along your jaw.
“you got 2 seconds to let go of me before i give you smth else to patch up.”
his tricks never worked, and you scolded him the whole time you were helping him, and he pouted the whole time, too, whining and trying to get you to not be pissed with him.
“mamí~” he would sing song, giving you the most charming voice and smile he could muster. “sonríe para papi, por favor~? (smile for papí, please~?),” or “come on, mamí, don’t look at me like that,” etc. it would never work and would only piss you off more.
“shut up, boy. it’s already too late for this bull, don’t push it.”
then he’d start to get pissed that you were talking to him like that despite him trying— in his own way— to make it better. “ight, ma, you can drop the attitude. you know i gotta do what i gotta do.”
you would stop and raise an eyebrow. “i know you ain’t talkin’ to me,” you’d step back and cross your arms.
“ma, i’m bein’ fr. drop the attitude, i ain’t playin.”
“neither am i.” you’d shake your head and roll your eyes heavy at him. “you see this?,” you pointed to the bonnet on your head, “i was ready to slump— you interrupted that, but i let you cause i love you. but i will get back in that bed and let uncle aaron tear you up, but that’s up to you.”
boy he would get so pissed off when you had the upper hand on him. “ight girl, whatever, jus hurry up” he would huff and cross his arms and turn his head the other way.
he would continue to make smart comments but they didn’t phase you; you knew how he was, and right now he was just bein’ a big baby cause his girl had to put him in his place. ngl, you had to keep yourself from laughing cause it was funny to watch considering how hard he acts otherwise.
“‘mkay, you’re done.” you would stand back with your hands on your hips, sighing after your hard work. “you good, baby? or you gonna keep pouting?”
he would glare at you, angry pout still on his face; most would take that face as a warning sign, but you found it endearing. “ay, cariño.” you’d coo and plant kisses all over his face.
“aye! ma— stop! stop! you play too much!” he would protest, but you knew he liked it.
you would pull away and he’d have a playfully vengeful look on his face. “oh, so it’s like that, huh?” he’d ask, and you’d laugh at him with a grin.
next thing you know, he’s picked you up and throw you over his shoulder; you hit his legs and protest while laughing a little, but your hits do nothing against him.
he lays you down— gently— on the bed and towers over you. “my turn, mama.” he would smirk, and he’d kiss you on the lips, long, soft, and slow. it was his way to show how much he appreciated you, even if he struggled to say it out loud sometimes.
earth1610! miles
this boy would look so guilty as he stood in the middle of your room, suit ripped in different places and bleeding and bruised skin in others.
“miles!” you would fuss, “we’ve talked about this.” you spoke calmly but your tone showed the upset you felt for him. the sight of him hurt would wound you in its own manner.
he rubbed the back of his neck and avoided your gaze. “i know…things just got out of hand tonight…i’m sorry.” he’d look at you with those big brown eyes, genuine guilt swirling throughout them, and your heart would completely melt as it always would. poor boy was doing his best.
you would sigh and kiss his forehead. “its alright, mijo. let’s get you cleaned up, alright?”
you would take him to your bathroom and the two of you would sit on the floor. you’d address his wounds while he would recite to you what happened; you always wanted to know if you could.
it was always rough, and your heart felt for him. you wished he didn’t have to exert himself so harshly every night. it only made you worry more about something happening to him.
when you were done, you’d look at him with loving empathy and caress his face. “ay, mi vida..” you would sigh sadly, but miles always gave you that charming, strong smile.
“don’t worry, ma, i’ll be alright. i’ll always be alright. plus,” he would smirk, “i think we make a good team like this. you can be my hot nurse.” he winked. he didn’t want you to worry at all, especially not more than you had to. he would always be okay for your sake, if not for anyone else’s.
you would cringe roll your eyes at his statement and thump his forehead playfully. then, you’d bring him in a warm embrace. “you wanna stay here tonight, hermoso?”
“yeah. yeah i’d like that.” he’d smile softly down at you, wondering how he could ever repay you for all you’ve done for him.
-thank you for being here~!
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random-thot-generator · 1 year ago
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Love Thy Frenemy + Ch. 7
(Frenemies/Tenderness AU)
SEVEN: Can't Let Go
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SIMON GHOST RILEY x FRENEMY FEM READER
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Summary: A week has passed since the argument in the alley, and Reader's hurt has been replaced with a seething anger that leads her to make a spur-of-the-moment decision out of spite. However, her poor choices lead to a potentially dangerous situation.
(PLEASE MIND THE TAGS. This chapter could be triggering for some readers.)
Warnings/Tags: Profanity, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Bad Coping Mechanisms, Allusions to sex, Threat of dub/non-con sexual situation, Brief Violence - Reader's a scrapper, Threat of violence though not acted upon... yet, No use of Y/N
(Notes: Ngl, this was a bitch to write. I had no less than three other alternative versions of this chapter, before choosing this one, but thankfully had some help along the way. Massive props to @glitterypirateduck for the much-needed advice and input. I ended up leaving the badger out, babe, but I hope you like the chapter, regardless. 😉👍)
[Image via TENOR]
Word Count: 5020
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Chapter 7
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...I ain't tryna find fate, it's too late to save face I can't get away, maybe there's no mistakes
You break me, then I break my rules Last time was the last time too It's fucked up, I know, but I'm still
Outside of the party, smokin' in the car with you Seven Nation Army, fightin' at the bar with you Tell you that I'm sorry, tell me what I gotta do 'Cause I can't let go...
—Post Malone, 'Chemical'
-
The walk to work is nice.
Blue skies and tattered clouds arch overhead, the remnants of puddles from an early morning shower reflecting the first sun you've seen in days. The world smells fresh and green and new, the signs of spring brightening your mood. It makes you feel light, the first time in a week you've felt like lifting your head to look around.
The first time since your fight with Riley.
You push the thought away. You're not going there today. Not again. You worked through the worst of the hurt and disappointment, and now you've settled into a comfortable, quiet fury that you keep wrapped around you like a warm blanket when the chill of loneliness creeps into your bed at night. You don't miss him, you don't want him, and you sure as hell don't need him. He's just one more bitter lesson you've had to learn the hard way. You won't make the same mistake, again.
Well... not again, anyway.
A car beeps its horn behind you, and you glance back to see Jerry Finch, the lorry driver who delivers the kegs to the pub, waving at you from a black sports car. You give a half-hearted smile and wave back, your steps slowing when he steers his car to the curb.
His window rolls down, rap music thumping before he turns it down. Leaning on his arm in the open window, Jerry tips his chin down to look over his aviator sunglasses at you, a smooth half-smile on his lips. "How ya doin', Dee? Headin' to work?"
You nod, stepping closer to his car, trying to ignore the way he looks you up and down before meeting your gaze. He gives you an appreciative smile and ticks his eyebrows up, ever the flirt. You sniff in amusement and squint against the sun to see him better. "Morning, Jer." You nod at his car. "No lorry today. This your day off?"
He gives you a charming, almost boyish smile and nods. "Yeah. Had some business here in the village, though." He glances down towards the pub, then slants his gaze back to you, thumbing at his bottom lip. "I can give ya a lift, if ya like. Goin' that way, anyhow."
You hesitate but then nod in acceptance. It's just an acquaintance from work offering you a ride, nothing wrong with that. He smiles and motions for you to get in, once more letting his eyes wander over your figure while you settle yourself into the passenger seat and put on your seatbelt.
"Thank you," you murmur, glancing up at him, then away. Jerry's never been one to hide his interest, taking every opportunity to flirt with you when given half a chance. Of course, it makes you feel good to have a handsome man flirt with you, but it also makes you a little leery, too. You try to be nice, but you don't want to encourage him, something that Fiona fusses about every chance she gets.
"Bloody hell, Dee, give the bloke a chance. He's got a good job, he's good lookin', fit as fuck, an' he's gaggin' t'get with ya. What can it hurt?"
Rationally, you know Fi is right, but you can't help yourself. There's just something about him. You can't put your finger on it but being near him just feels... off. You clear your throat and look out the window, your eyes catching on a dark gray Gladiator parked in front of the Tea Room.
Riley.
You can see him standing inside through the tall Georgian windows, chatting with Margie, the owner. She's handing him a bag and a to-go cup that you know will be filled with English breakfast tea brewed strong, with a splash of milk and two sugars, the way he likes. Your heart squeezes in your chest as you watch him exit the building and get in his truck.
Riley's been avoiding the pub when you're on shift. Fiona says he's been showing up in the evening, sitting in his usual spot while nursing his Dewar's. She also doesn't fail to mention Tessa Harker has been chatting him up quite a bit lately, too. It hurts to hear it, but you only give a tight smile and mutter, "Good for him," much to your friend's irritation.
Fiona and Ollie have both noticed the way you and Riley have been avoiding each other, but apparently Riley has kept mum about the argument, as have you. You had wondered if he would spread word about your other job at the Grind out of spite, but no one has mentioned it so far, and for that you're relieved, but you're still wary of what he might do with the information.
"So, what time ya gettin' off work?"
The question draws your attention back to the big man sitting beside you. Did he notice you staring, you wonder. "Um, I get off work at five."
"Then what?" he persists, and you know where this is going.
You shrug, keeping your eyes focused straight ahead. "Then back home, I suppose."
"Come out with me, instead," he suggests, shooting another one of his charming smiles your way. "There's a nice Italian bistro in Blackheath. I deliver to 'em. Nice place, good food."
"Oh, um, well..."
He chuckles and reaches over to pat your knee. "No rush, sweetheart. Got all day t'think it over, yeah?"
Again, the feeling that something is off with him comes to the fore of your brain, but you smile, regardless. "Yeah, sure. I'll... think about it," you reply, knowing your mind is already made up. You just have to think of a nice way to let him down. Again.
Jerry gives your knee another pat, which turns into a sly caress that has you flinching away. He huffs a laugh at your reaction, giving you a playful 'just-kidding' grin, before he lifts his hand and places it back on the wheel. He has big, beefy hands, thick fingers with blunt tips, a working man's hands. You usually find that attractive, have often admired Riley's large hands and long, supple fingers, but for some reason, the sight of Jerry's ham fists curled around the steering wheel makes you feel uncomfortable.
The car comes to a stop in front of the pub, and you're quick to unbuckle your seatbelt and open the door. "Thanks for the ride, Jer," you say, one foot already resting on the pavement.
"Think nothin' of it, love. Glad t'give you a ride anytime," he murmurs, suggestion heavy in his tone. He flashes another smile at you, winking again. He does that a lot, and you find it annoying. "I'll stop by later, see if ya want to go out for dinner, yeah?"
"Y-Yeah, sure. Okay."
You get out of his car and sketch a little wave as he pulls away, then turn to head inside the pub, only to come up short. Riley's standing right in front of the entrance, arms crossed over his chest, dark eyes fixed on Jerry's car, which is now rounding the green.
"Friend o' yers?"
It's the first words he's said to you since last Sunday in the alley, and the way he says it instantly gets your hackles up. You square off with him, casting a disparaging look over him. The proper thing would have been to offer you an apology, but you know better than to expect anything like that from him. Instead, he leads with a question that sounds both accusatory and insulting, all at the same time.
Typical.
"Shouldn't you already know? That's what you're good at, isn't it? Keeping tabs on me?" you snap, glaring at him.
You make a point to bump his shoulder as you pass by him and enter the pub. He's on your heels in an instant, following you through the door, obviously irritated by your response. You ignore him as you round the bar, pulling the strap of your bag over your head before placing it on top of the bar to take out your phone and a paperback.
"Wot? Ya got nothin' else t'say, doll? Tha's not like ya."
Your eyes snap up to glare at him. "Thought we said all that needed to be said last Sunday," you hissed at him, trying to keep your voice down, knowing Ollie would be back in his office.
Simon plants both hands on the bar and leans in, his dark eyes scathing as they pin you to the spot. "I wasn't finished talkin'. It was you that fuckin' ran off," he growls in return, but manages to keep his voice to a low rumble.
Your brows shoot up in mock surprise. "Oh! How terribly rude of me. I suppose I should have stood there until you were finished insulting me." Your eyes narrowed as you sneered at him. "Fuck you for that, by the way."
He's wearing his black surgical mask today, so his angry scowl is more evident than usual. He shoves off the bar in a fit of temper, hand coming up to jab a finger at you. "Like I told ya last Sunday, me an' you need t'talk, an' this time yer goin' t'bloody listen to wha—"
Your snort cuts him off. "We have nothing left to discuss. You made your opinion of me quite clear. But hey! At least I know where I stand with you now. Don't worry, though. I'll keep my distance. Wouldn't want to embarrass you by being seen associating with a slag, right?"
"Dammit t'hell, Dee! I never fuckin' called ya that. I never thought that. Would ya just bloody lis—"
"Riley, lad!"
You both turn to see Ollie heading your way, a pleased smile on his face. Shooting Riley one last venomous glare, you turn your back on him and make for the swinging door leading into the kitchen, his frustrated growl giving you a sense of grim satisfaction as you slip through the door. Fuck him. You hope he stays pissed off for the rest of the day.
You can hear the two men talking as you go back to hang up your jacket, eyes wandering over the unused kitchen as you pass through. What you wouldn't give for a kitchen this size, and here this one sits, unused and abandoned. You had mentioned a time or two that adding a small menu would bring in more business, but since the last cook quit, Ollie hasn't been too keen to fire up the kitchen again. It's a pity, really.
"Dee, love."
You glance over your shoulder to see Ollie standing at the service window. "What'cha need, Ol?"
Mind makin' me an' Riley a cuppa an' bringin' 'em to the office?"
You frown, wondering what happened to the tea you had seen Riley with before. You shrug it off and nod. "Sure thing, Ol. Be right out with 'em."
"Thanks, love," he says, rapping his knuckles before disappearing from sight.
You rinse out the electric kettle and fill it with water, then plug it in and switch it on before grabbing three mugs and the tea tin. You consider making Riley's tea wrong, just for spite, but that would be petty, even for you, or as Riley would call it, bratty. You sniff. He's a fuckin' brat. A bratty arsehole.
You scoop instant coffee into your own mug then add the tea bags to the other two cups, before going to the fridge to take out the milk. It's become routine for you to make both men's tea, your hands going through the motions while your thoughts wander back to Jerry and his dinner invitation.
Your first instinct is to turn him down, as you have all his other invitations, but the memory of how pissed Riley looked as he watched the other man drive away gives you pause. He always did eye Jerry with open suspicion, his instant dislike of the other man never something he tried to hide. He's never said why he doesn't like Jerry, but it didn't change the fact that it would probably piss Riley off to learn you were going out to dinner with him.
Maybe you are petty after all, because now your mind has changed. You are going on a dinner date this evening after work.
Setting your mug of coffee in the window to retrieve later, you take the other two mugs with you out of the kitchen. Rounding the bar, you head towards the narrow hallway that leads to the bathrooms and Ollie's office, walking slower to not spill any of their tea. You can hear their voices through the door as you stop to announce your presence. It's Riley who opens the door for you, not bothering to move out of your way as you slide past him with an irritated expression.
"Move, ya big lump," you grumble lowly, which gets a soft sniff of amusement from him. Arsehole.
"Ah, thanks, love," Ollie says, reaching out to take his mug. You set Riley's on the edge of his desk near the old club chair where he always sits. "Mind closin' the door on yer way out?" Ollie asks.
You give a nod, turning around to see that Riley is still standing in your way. You go to step around him, and he steps in your way again. You blow out an aggravated breath and raise your eyes to his, the urge to shove him again making your hands twitch. When he quirks a brow up at you, you grit your teeth and glare at him. Then an idea sparks in your brain. You look back over your shoulder at your boss.
"Say, Ol. Ya mind if I cut out a little early this evening? I've got a dinner date with Jerry the lorry driver."
Ollie nearly chokes on his tea before he manages to get his cup set down on his desk. His sharp eyes dart between you and Riley, an odd expression on his face as he tries to make sense of what's going on. He finally clears his throat and gives a curt nod. "Yeah. Sure, love. No problem."
You give him a sweet smile that turns spiteful when you turn your head back to the man in front of you. "Thanks, Ol," you reply, meeting Riley's furious glare. "Excuse me. Need to get back to work."
You can see his hands balling into fists, and it sends a thrill of sadistic glee through you. You'd rather die than look away from him right now, a smirk appearing when he has to hold his tongue and step aside for you. By the time you reach the hallway and close the door behind you, you're damn near giddy. The smirk on your face grows to a full-on wicked grin by the time you reach the bar again.
Satisfied with the good, hard poke you've just given the proverbial bear, you begin your prep work, humming a catchy pop song under your breath.
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-
You manage to avoid any more close interactions with Riley, though he hangs around the bar your entire shift, giving you a baleful glare every time you draw near. You make it a point to ignore him, chatting with the other customers, talking and laughing like you weren't bothered at all by his brooding presence. You see him visibly stiffen when Jerry comes swaggering in, his signature charming smile already in place.
Before he can speak, you step to the bar and offer him a sweet smile. "Hi, Jer. Ollie said I can leave early, so we can go whenever you like."
Jerry can't hide the surprise on his face, but he swiftly recovers as he leans an elbow on the bar to bring his eyes level with yours. "Good. Been thinkin' 'bout it all day," he murmurs, his eyes drifting down to your lips.
You stiffen, discomfited by the look in his eye, but try to hide it by ducking to grab your bag from beneath the bar. When you raise up again, a pleasant smile is plastered on your face. "I just need to grab my jacket and tell Ollie I'm leaving, then we can go."
"'Course, sweetheart," Jer replies, watching you as you round the bar and head for the hallway. He catches Riley staring at him and lifts his brows, giving him a smug little smirk, which you honestly think is stupid of him. Despite Jerry's size, you have no doubt Riley would mop the fucking floor with him. You roll your eyes. Men and their stupid bloody posturing.
The sooner you get this over with, the better. This game is quickly losing its appeal.
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-
Jerry offers to take you home to change if you want, but you decline, honestly not comfortable with the idea of bringing him up to your flat. He seems a little perturbed when you turn down his offer but then shrugs and drives to Blackheath, instead.
As he said, the little bistro is nice, the food delicious. The conversation is lackluster, though, but you weren't really expecting much. Beyond talking about himself, Jerry doesn't seem to hold much interest in other topics. Big surprise.
Once you're back in the car, he drapes his arm over your seat and leans in, a sexy smirk on his face. "So, where to next, sweetheart? Your place or mine?"
Your brows shoot up in mild surprise. "I thought this was just dinner," you reply, crossing your arms over your chest. "Moving a little fast, don't you think?"
He tips his chin down, giving you a knowing look. "C'mon, Dee. We're both adults here. I've seen how you an' that other barmaid check me out. Not that I'm complainin'." He gives you one of his smarmy winks, and you fight the urge to wrinkle your nose in disdain.
You sniff and give your head a small shake. The audacity of this bloke. Did he honestly think you were just going to drop your knickers because he bought you dinner? "Yeah, I think I'd rather go home by myself. I have work in the morning."
Jerry draws back, blinking. "Are you serious?" When you roll your eyes, he scoffs and tilts his nose up, as if he can't believe you are turning him down. "Whatever. Your loss, sweetheart," he mutters with a slight sneer and starts the car.
The drive back to Banfield is tense and awkward, but you honestly prefer the silence. When Jer finally speaks up, you startle out of your thoughts. "Mind if I take a shortcut?" he asks, his tone off-hand.
You shrug. "Fine with me." If it gets you home quicker, you're all for it.
Yet when he veers off the main road onto a country lane, you frown. You aren't familiar with this particular backroad, but from the direction you're going it doesn't look like you're heading towards home.
"Are you sure this goes to Banfield?"
Jer slants a condescending look at you, a shitty little smirk pulling up a corner of his mouth. "I drive for a livin', sweetheart. Ya really think I'm goin' t'get lost on the way to bloody Banfield?"
Your eyes roll up, but you hold your tongue, yet after another five minutes with nothing even closely resembling civilization in sight, you can't keep quiet. "We should be in Banfield by now. It's just a ten-minute drive from Blackheath. Are you sure you took the right road?" You glance around at the dark, unfamiliar landscape. "I don't even know where the hell we are right now."
"I took the scenic route," Jer drawls, waving a hand. He then drops it on your knee and gives it a squeeze. "Chill out, sweetheart. We'll get there. Eventually."
Apprehension creeps up your spine like the drag of an icy finger. You don't like this. This man, who you really know nothing about, you now realize, is driving you out to the middle of nowhere. "Maybe you should turn around."
Jerry glances over at you again, and this time the look in his eye makes the small hairs on the nape of your neck stand on end. "Maybe you should try to relax." His hand slides up your leg to grip your thigh. "I'd be happy t'pull over an' help ya with that, sweetheart."
And there it is. The reason for getting you out here alone. You aren't even really surprised, always knowing in the back of your mind that there was something off with him, though you chose to ignore it this time, just to spite Riley.
Hindsight really is a bitch sometimes.
"Jer, I told you I wanted to go home," you murmur, trying to keep your voice low and even.
He huffs, a smug expression on his face. "C'mon, Dee. Stop playin' hard t'get. It's jus' me an' you now. Your boyfriend doesn't have t'know. I can keep my mouth shut. It'll be our little secret, yeah?"
"My boyfriend?" you blurt out, confused.
He rolls his eyes. "Oh, right. Sorry. Your friend," he sneers and then scoffs. "Don't act like ya don't know who I'm talkin' 'bout. That scarred up freak with the mask who's always up yer arse."
"What the fuck did you just say?" you choke out, fury strangling your voice. You're ready to claw out his eyes for what he said about Riley.
Jerry waves a dismissive hand at you. "Enough with the games, Dee. I know ya only went out with me t'make him jealous, an' I'm fine with that, really, but don't ya think I deserve some sort of... ya know, compensation for playin' along?"
Rage consumes you, hot and prickling beneath your skin. "Take me home. Now!"
The cold, flat look in his eye chills you to the bone. "Not 'til I get what ya owe me, sweetheart. Don't look so offended. I doubt this is the first time you've paid up for somethin' by lyin' on your back."
The hard slap you deliver to his smug face has him swerving across the narrow road before he slams on the brakes, sluing the car around in the loose gravel. You only manage to free your seatbelt before he grabs you.
"Are ya fuckin' crazy, ya bitch?" he yells in your face, shaking you hard as he shoves you back against your door. "Ya could'a killed us!"
You jab your thumb in his eye for his trouble. He bellows in pain, releasing you to clutch at his face, freeing you to reach behind your back to paw at the latch. The door flies open under your weight and dumps you out backwards onto the gravel. When his hand seizes your ankle in a crushing grip, you frantically kick out with your other foot. Though you're unable to see from your position on the ground, you revel in a brief moment of satisfaction when you feel it make solid contact with his head, and he yells in pain again. Yanking your legs free of the car, you scramble to your feet, snatching your bag from the ground as you sprint for the woods.
Too terrified to look back, you run headlong into the tree line. You stumble through the undergrowth, feeling the spindly branches and thorns tear at your clothes and snag in your hair as it rakes bloody scratches into your exposed skin. You trip over tree roots and stub your toes on stones hidden beneath the moldering ground cover of dead leaves. All the while, Jerry is bellowing like an enraged bull as he thrashes through the foliage somewhere behind you, shouting threats and curses at you the whole time.
When you inevitably fall flat on your face, you skid across the forest floor to hitch up at the base of a huge oak. You have just enough time to crawl behind its massive trunk before Jerry comes crashing through. When you hear him approach, you clap your hand over your nose and mouth to muffle the sound of your gasping breaths, terrified he will hear you. Your eyes go wide when you see him pass by your hiding spot close enough that you could reach out and touch him, if you wanted. Scared beyond reason, you press your back against the rough bark of the oak and pray he doesn't see you when he pans the flashlight on his cell phone around.
A strangled noise issues from his throat before he growls out a frustrated, "Fuuuck!" You can see him pacing back and forth as he rakes his hands through his hair. If you didn't know any better, you would think he was panicking. "Crazy fuckin' bitch," you hear him seethe under his heaving breath, growling again. "Fine, ya stupid cunt!" he shouts at the dark woods, throwing his arms up in the air. "Find yer own way home, then!" He then turns around and stomps back the way he came, still uttering curses.
You don't dare move, not even when the sound of his heavy footfalls fades away. You don't dare move, not even when the only thing you can hear is the wind rattling the tree branches overhead. You don't dare move, not until you at last hear the distant sound of a car motor rev to life, the sound gradually diminishing until you can't hear it any longer. It is only then that you are brave enough to slowly stand up on your shaking legs, only to lean once more on the trunk for support as a sob finally tears free from your chest.
You remain that way for several minutes, trying desperately to regain your composure, even as your brain keeps circling around the notion that Jerry's departure is some sort of ruse to lure you back out into the open. It's the idea of spending a cold night alone in the woods that finally has you lifting your head to take in your surroundings and evaluate your situation.
At first glance, it seems pretty dire. You have no idea where you are, you're too scared to venture back onto road for fear of Jerry lying in wait somewhere, and it's pitch dark out tonight, not even the wan light of the moon visible in the overcast sky to help guide you through the woods.
Your only real option is to call for help.
Reaching into your bag, you take out your phone, cursing under your breath when you drop it due to your trembling hands. The glow of the screen is a small comfort as you unlock your phone and open your contacts list. You stare at the emergency number, finger hovering.
If you call the police, there will have to be a report filed, and then there will be an inquiry to investigate your claims. You already know it will be your word against Jerry's. His solicitors will no doubt drag your name through the mud to discredit you, and he will probably still get off with nothing more than a light slap on the wrist, if he even gets that, because he actually didn't do anything to you, at least not physically. Hell, you had done more damage to him than he had to you. He could claim you attacked him, and he wouldn't even be lying.
You look back down at your phone, one name standing out like a beacon in the dark. When you see that name, you think of home, of safety, the two things you want most right now. You select it and hit the call button, holding the phone up to your ear and praying there will be an answer. Your breath catches in your throat when you hear the line connect.
"Whad'ya want, Dee?" a gravelly, annoyed voice growls into your ear, and a sob escapes your throat, you are so relieved to hear him.
"Ruh... Riley? P-Please, Ri... please. I n-need you..."
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No one in the White Dog knew what to think when the usually quiet giant that sat at the end of the bar suddenly erupted out of his seat, the bar chair toppling over. "Doll! What's wrong? Where are ya?" he barks into his phone.
He apparently doesn't like what he hears.
"He fuckin' did what?! " he growls, a look of pure murderous rage igniting in his dark eyes. As he listens to you, however, his rage is tempered by his troubled concern. "Are ya hurt, love? I swear t'God if he―" His hand clenches into a trembling fist, even though his voice is now a low rumble. "Please don't cry, love. I know, I know, but I'll find ya. Ya know I will. I'm on my way right now. Just... keep yer phone on for me, yeah?"
He's already making for the entrance as he says this, the murderous look returning as he mutters, "I'll kill that bastard," before he barges through the door. He hits it with such force, it slams into the outside wall hard enough to shatter the frosted safety glass. He doesn't even acknowledge it as he runs to his truck and tears off down the street with a bark of tires the next instant, leaving a silent pub full of stunned onlookers in his wake.
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Prev. >> Next
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Taglist: @stillinracooncity @cumikering @cutiecusp @deadbranch @ghostlythots @thetiredtoad0-0 @glitterypirateduck @gothgirl6-6-6 @sofasoap @cathnoneofyourbusiness @shuttlelauncher81 @luminousbeings-crudematter @crunchlite @delilah-grimes @bobochacha
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akiraiscute · 9 months ago
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Yandere!Brother!Killua X Sister!Reader
Tw ; literally gore, yandere shit, Spoilers for Season 5 & maybe season 6 (mentions of alluka.)
this is fully Platonic relationship between killua and reader, i will not add romanticism in any of my stories/one-shots of where its siblings.
You didn’t even know what could off happened, you were just following Killua and Gon and their new friend kite, well you think new friend into the NGL. you really didn’t get why they were fighting these creatures yet you didn’t mind, it was fun watching. You get to learn kite’s ability and Kite seemed fun as well! You watched Killua and Gon fight, maybe or not admiring them as they fought.. but it was fun watching them and fighting them yourself as well! Well kinda fighting them, it seemed like Killua kept complaining about it sorta and he seemed a bit pissed off at anything that actually put a hand to you really which honestly seemed weird to you but you didn’t question it as he was your brother! You wouldnt dare question your brother..
The cool new scythe weapon that kite could spawn was cool! Like really cool, you admired his abilities and found him nice.. Kite was really cool as well! Now knowing he will be helping gon find his dad more faster which is always super cool!! Well at least you found it cool, you don’t know about your brother but Killua seemed fine with kite and you trusted his judgement, you always do. You followed gon and killua, kite in front until he stopped and everything went down.. there was another chimera ant, this one seemed more power than each other one.. which concerned you three but when you saw kite’s arm flying you knew to get ready to fight or at least get ready to run off until you saw killua hit gon in the back of the neck and.. you? Killua grabbed gon and you.. and.. and ran.
When you woke up, you were leaning against a tree where you had your head on killua’s shoulder.. You saw gon still knocked out, you looked at killua as he looked at his lap and kept thinking without even realizing you were awake, you didn’t blame him. After literally what you guys just saw, it would.. be sorta hard to take it as Kite just got hurt and you knew Killua would be worrying about making the right decision but you kinda thought it was as literally kite said to leave him behind if anything happens as he would do the same to you three so it was the right decision right? You sighed as you leaned against the tree again and looking up into the sky until you heard a car which you and killua looked ahead to the chairmen and two other guys?… You seemed confused as they talked to killua but you didn’t really seem to pay attention to it until Killua finally noticed that you were awake and grabbed gon.
“{N/N}(Nickname), come.. come on.”
Killua muttered, his own voice shaky. He didn’t know why exactly but it was and you didn’t even question it one bit, You stood up and walked to the car and got in the back and so did he. He laid gon down gently as he watched you also sit down on the ground, close to gon and he almost eyed you like a hawk for no real reason other than he was worried really.. Killua sat down a bit and tried to relax as his mood got a bit too sour for him, he sighed quietly. Mainly not to make any noises that could bother you as well which he didn’t really wanna bother you after what you both just saw, Killua still can’t just believe he ran off like that but the aura around that creature.. it just.. made his skin crawl. He didn’t know why either but he doesn’t wanna think about it at all as it would sour his mood even more. He tried to think about you and alluka, but mainly about you as you were with him right now.. he just felt off about it. Until gon woke up of course..
He looked at gon as Gon looked around and got confused. Before Gon looked upset, he hated seeing his best friend upset but he bit his tongue to keep quiet as Gon looked at him and you. Before the lady with the gum in her mouth and pink hair spoke..
“Kite wouldn’t want you guys to be upset about this you know.”
She was right, like really right, You didn’t know why she was but she was honestly. From little you know about kite and his group, they seem all nice as well.. but from what you know about kite which is not much but he wouldn’t want you three just to be upset about this. He would wanted you guys to at least try to find him or just fight, You looked at your brother, Killua and gon and smiled as you watched gon’s upset look fade away as quickly as it come to exist.. You liked it when Gon was okay, you liked it when killua was okay. You loved it when they were both happy and okay, which always made you smile as you knew that they aren’t hurt in the slightest way really but Maybe. Just maybe gon was.. emotionally hurt, you don’t know really but it seemed like that honestly ..
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Hii!! Im back, i was jst posting more on my other acc bc it has been doing good😭 but, ima try to post more and more!! Im so sorry my butterflies!! But get ready to have a lot of stories🫶
— Akira signing off!
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duckymcdoorknob · 1 year ago
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𝓣𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓪𝔂 11: 𝓑𝓲𝓽𝓮𝓼/𝓝𝓲𝓫𝓫𝓵𝓮𝓼
FIRST ONE PIECE FIC EVER LESGOOOOO
HEHE LUFFY MY GOOBY
I WANTED TO TRY TO KEEP ZORO IN CHARACTER SO SORRY IF ITS INNACURATE
IM GONNA MAKE IT YALL IDC IM GONNA GET THESE WRITTEN
Tags: @chrimsss @switch-writer @giggly-squiggily @trrickytickle
—ngl this do have tickles under the cut—
If there was one thing that bothered Luffy about his vice captain, it was his drowsiness. Zoro was ALWAYS sleeping, especially during the times when Luffy most wanted him awake.
On a slow day, the straw-hatted captain wanted nothing more than to bother Zoro. He jumped up about the ship, trying hard to find the green-haired male.
When he found the swordsman, the latter was snoozing on the deck.
“Zoooorooooo!” The captain whined as he lay down next to the sleeping man. “Wake up!”
No response was given to Luffy, albeit a small snore.
The straw-hatted captain pouted as he sat up. There had to be something he could do…
In one swift movement, the black-haired male prostrated himself on Zoro’s back, hoping the added pressure would wake him.
To his luck, the sleeping vice captain barely even acknowledged it. He simply sighed in a breath and exhaled gently.
Luffy pushed all of his weight onto his torso, deducing that maybe that pressure would wake him.
Again, it did not.
Now, he was stumped.
In a fit of frustration he bit down on Zoro’s shoulder. Not too hard, but (hopefully) enough for there to be an impact.
Zoro’s eyes opened and his brows furrowed angrily. “Can I help you?”
Luffy’s eyes had stars in them as he smiled widely. He threw his arms around the swordsman’s neck. “Zorooooo! Come play a game with me!”
“That’s what you woke me up for? Seriously?”
“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Come on! Nami said she was too busy, and Usopp doesn’t like my games… he’s a little scaredy cat.”
A muted “hey!” was heard from the other end of the ship…
“See I would, but I’m just sooooooo tired.” The green-haired male slurred as he started to close his eyes once more, a small smile of mischief making its way to his features.
“Nooooo! I wanna play a game! Wake up, wake up, wake up!”
Zoro fake snored rather loudly, quite literally a “honk shoo.”
Pouting, Luffy bit down on Zoro’s shoulder again, resulting in the fake snores coming to a grinding halt. “Jesus, Luffy. What are you- NGH-“
“I’m gonna bite you until you say you’ll play with me!”
“That’s ridiculous! Ask someone else T- HNG- To p-play with y-you.”
“No! I don’t care that I’m hurting you! You make me mad!”
“You aren’t hurting me, kid. Nothing you do can hurt me, just have sensi-tive… shoulders… is all….”
A light went off in the straw-hatted captain’s head. “Ohhhh sensitive huh?”
“Don’t you dare- L-Luffy! D-Mph! D-Don’t do that.”
The black-haired pirate sank his teeth into the man’s shoulder, adding obnoxious “om nom nom” sounds.
The swordsman’s teeth were gritted as his breaths became uneven. A dopey grin found its way to his features as he squeezed his eyes shut. “L-Lu-Luhuhuffy-“
“Haha! Big bad Zoro’s ticklish!” A voice chimed from outside of the kitchen door.
An attempt to glare at the blonde chef ended in a snort when the captain’s teeth sank into his upper back. “W-Would you q-quihihit that.”
A little gremlin laugh from behind him answered his question.
Maybe he should’ve just played a game with Luffy after all…
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—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————
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scp-tiggles · 8 months ago
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First addition to the au!
Scp 079 (Android form)
50% ler | 50% lee
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As a ler:
He’s pretty sweet, ngl. Usually he wrecks someone without the need to feed off laughter like some of the other anomalies, its just for “research” or if someone seems a bit gloomy.
His favorite move is bear hugs. Uses his main arms to hug someone, then the other four to tickle them.
Speaking of, don’t bother trying to hide spots from him. His eyes have sensors that basically pings him to wherever someone is ticklish at.
His teeth are relatively pointy for tickle nibbles!
Teasing wise he’ll either make remarks about how your reactions and laughter help his research. Or option B is he’ll use baby talk!
Will make sure the lee is okay afterwards, offering water (and affection if the lee desires)
As a lee
Super ticklish oml. Cannot STAND his ribs or armpits (his main set) being tickled!
Absolutely can’t take teases, calling him cute? Baby talk? You’ll have him a giggly mess in no time!
Surprisingly, he’s able to blush. And tickling around his ears or neck is the best way to get it.
Super cackly laughter, snorts a whole ton.
Will try to get revenge with his other four limbs, watch out!
Speaking of revenge, he will 100% get it afterwards.
You could actually make him reboot if you tickle him to much, he doesn’t mind, but its the best way to give yourself a head start FROM his vengeance!
Feathers will absolutely annihilate him, same for brushes (specifically paint ones)
Normal PC form
60% ler | 40% lee
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As a ler:
Much like before, he’s still pretty sweet as a ler.
This form resides in his cell, he can upload his consciousness between bodies in order to utilize each one. This one controls the machinery in his cell.
He LOVES to experiment on lees, tickling them to oblivion for his notes, their laugh, their ticklish spots, what tools work best, etc.
The metal extending parts of his limbs are able to lightly zap people, doesn’t hurt, tickles like hell though!
His teases remain the same, a bit more baby talky since he has more confidence of lees not getting revenge in this form.
Has a data base of most doctors at the site from the times they fallen to his clutches, loves to tease them with it too.
“Oh, my. Your laughter has gotten much more squeaky since our last session, doctor! I’ll have to test you to see what else has changed at once!”
A bit more generous with aftercare, since he’ll tickle lees significantly longer then when in his android form.
As a lee
Now while this form has no spots, you still CAN tickle him.
High voltage electricity, messing with his computer system (i.e a virus), all tickle him HELLISHLY.
And he low-key enjoys it.
He’ll keep his secret enjoyment of tickles to the grave though.
Anyways, like before, cannot stand teases at all. Folds immediately.
His screen will glitch and bug out if he is laughing too hard.
Speaking of his laugh, its still cackly, all be it more higher in pitch the worse he’s being tickled.
Has on more then one occasion accidentally (and purposely) zapped himself on his own tech.
Random facts!
Surprisingly doesn’t have a favorite lee, since he wants to expand his database he’ll rarely go after someone twice (unless bored), but does have favorite lers.
076-2, 682, and 096 are his current favorites for one reason: he snags up their victims after they’re done for experiments.
Will team up with other anomalies, especially if their target is one he hasn’t gotten too before.
He was actually created by the foundation, he was basically made to tickle other anomalies and get tickled, so the foundation could lessen breaches and not have to use d-class all the time.
He ended up gaining self awareness and decided to use his access to foundation technology to cause chaos though, lol.
But he does of course care deeply about the staff and other anomalies, staff especially. (Mainly the doctor who created him, who will be revealed later on! :>)
I’ll probably post the art as a separate thing too, but i got a post done, wooo!
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mcverse · 2 years ago
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Hi can i ask a scenario wherein how would the sakamaki brothers react to a guy asking yui for a date and she says yes *bcs a sakamaki × yui were having an arguement*.
Oh look, there’s one of my vitals organs on the floor… I guess I laughed too much???
Yui! Reader dead.
The person she dared to even accept is dead.
It’s not meant to be funny but I can’t help it !!! You know what they are and what they can do. 🙃🙃
Okay but maybe I’m being to quick to assume, it could be plausible it’s anything but death… for some! Let’s see how this plays out cuz idon even know yet
Reminder: The boys (+ Mukami bros) are cute ngl and have moments of genuine affection and adoration toward reader (not really Yui! Reader — same difference tho) but they are very deadly, and that’s what I based this post off. Actually, it’s what I base all my dialovers posts off.
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Pairing: Yui! Reader x a Sakamaki Brother
Type: Scenario
Word count: 3.2K
Warning: Death, Jealousy, Possessive, Insecurities, Yandere-ish??, Yui! Reader being self sabotage maybe, torture, not spell checked
Side bar: If you can’t tell, I love dark humor. You’ve been warned. Also this is definitely a x reader blog only, so I made the post to represent that. I didn’t want to not do the post cause the ask was really good! Some are longer than others, I got way ahead of myself. Subaru is kinda shorter cuz it’s hard to write him :/
Like always, characters are aged up appropriately!
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Yui! Reader dating anyone but a Sakamki brother
Shu Sakamaki
You were a nuisance. A tiny, insignificant spec inside his world all because of that man couldn’t stop scheming. The existence of you has caused so much trouble—so many anomalies—he lost count after a while.
A human girl who couldn’t leave well enough alone. One that couldn’t obey, know right from wrong despite knowing all the facts and yet still being clueless. You made his life very difficult. He proved it to you time and time again.
Yet here he was, very out of character as he stood over your broken body. The feeling from earlier upon hearing the rumor of you leaving for someone else only now left his body. He felt like he wasn’t in control of his body during what he was doing to you.
He felt every emotion under the sun screaming at him loudly, blocking the noise of his music through his headphone. It was infuriating; he just wanted to relax. Do nothing and relax… Not break your fucking legs.
But what’s done is done.
He no longer felt this unwelcome discomfort in his chest when he saw you standing near another. It wasn’t him then. He was someone else, someone mad, someone crazy infatuated.
Shu has never been one to like someone.
So where did he fuck up?
Why did he fuck up?
He was always calm, calculated. The man he was today was driven by pure rage. Your screams in agony were music to his ears, better than any of the songs he enjoyed. Your pain, your scrunched up face and screaming, it was because of him. All because of his touch.
That thought alone satisfied him as he came down from his high, expression back to its blank slate, unreadable. He scuffs as your sound turns to whimpers and at your weak attempts to crawl away. It was almost cute… almost.
Bending down, he grips one of you legs causing a whale to leave you. Your hand instantly goes to his arm to stop him. He shakes it off him effortlessly, starring intensely at your face as he yanks you to him, you are now face to face.
With a tilt of his head, he smirks, “This is your mistake. For meddling in my life… take responsibility as I drain you of everything.” He grabs your hair, yanking back your head, “The only thought in your head should be giving yourself to me.” he finishes with the sinking of his teeth in your throat.
Reiji Sakamaki
Honestly, he thought he kneeded you into the perfect pet. At this point you should know better. His teachings should have gotten you into shape, but here you are once again being disobedient. Oh, how he detested that part of you. This hurts you more than him.. perhaps you like it?
Without missing a beat, when you arrive home he calls you to his office. This insolence has to be put to rest. You have soiled his family name, much less his pride though he would never tell.
This rumor, even though it was just that, was disgraceful. And it spread, reaching his ears. As if you would be with the trash that litter these halls. Who did they think they were compared to him. They were nothing, that’s what. You knew this. So why would you think it was okay?
Yes, it brings him great satisfaction when he saw you close in on yourself under his gaze, body trembling in fear. At least your body knows his touch, your mind still seemed to show some resistance. No worries, Reiji considers himself a excellent teacher. He was never one to give up, no matter the challenge.
“I don’t wanna hear your excuses…” he starts, getting up from his seat. On his way over to you, he grabs a cup filled with liquid and stands in front of you, pushing it towards you, “Drink this.”
Scared, you shake your head already knowing it’s something bad. You remember the last time he gave you something, the nightmares are everlasting.
Reiji inhales deeply, frowning down at you, “Drink it or I’ll shove it down your throat. I’ll be anything but gentle.” Again he pushes it to you, this time settling it in your hands after his threat weighed heavy in the air.
Cautiously you take a sip, tasting a honey dew hibiscus blend before swallowing the rest. You hand him the empty cup after, noticing no effect. It confused you, was that simply tea?
You’re question was answered shortly after when your eyes felt heavy and your body light as air. You stumbled into Reiji’s arms loosely, looking at him through blurry vision. The last thing you see is him smiling.
When you came to, you found you were strapped to a chair, in what looked to be the dungeon. How could you forget? You had the worst happen to you here, a shiver travels down your spine when you think about it.
“You’re up.” Reiji, a voice you’ll never forget, spoke behind you. You tried to turn to see him, but it was difficult. He chuckles are you attempt, walking around you to face you. Your eyes immediately notice a cloth bag in his gloved hands, the bottom cut open.
“What’s that for?” You squeeze out, heartbeat picking up.
“A lesson.” was all he said when he forces it over your head till it hang around your neck. He pulls away to walk around you again, making noise behind you. Then you heard a squeak. Your breath stills.
Please tell me that’s not a—
Reiji comes back into view, holding a rat in front of your face. It was mid size, black and ugly. You were going to cry, already feel the tears pool at your eyes.
“Reiji, please!” You shake your head, thrashing around in the chair.
He clicks his tongue, “Bad girls get punished.” He holds the bag in one hand and the rat in the holder. Inch by inch the rat gets closer to your face, thrashing in Reiji hand not liking the harsh treatment just like you.
A scream rips from your throat when he drops it on your head and quickly ties the bag.
You had to learn your place one way or another.
Ayato Sakamaki
Ayato had to have heard wrong because there was no fucking way that you chose someone other then him. Especially knowing that you were his and his alone. This rumor had to be just that, false information spreading around the school.
He knew he didn’t have anything to worry about, it was him for crying out loud. No one can compete… but he still needed to hear how wrong everyone was from the source.
He found you easily in the girls bathroom, locking the door to avoid any interruptions. It was a miracle he was thinking clearly, usually it was so unlike him. And that’s why it was scary.
His stare was intense and focused, it made you squirm under the heat of it. He taunts you with slow forward steps, making you take steps back until your back was flush against one of the walls. He caged you in between his arms immediately, decreasing your chances to escape. As if you had any to begin with..
“Ore-sama’s been hearing some things he shouldn’t, Chichinashi.” He begin, his left hand sliding down to grip one of your shoulder, “It’s not true right? You wouldn’t dare go against Ore-sama?”
“A-Ayato.” Your mouth felt dry all of a sudden. You knew what he was talking about. After having a disagreement once again between you both, you foolishly accepted a date with another. You thought it would come to nothing, little did you know that the person would spread the news like a wild fire.
His grip tightens, nails digging through your uniform into your skin, drawing blood from you. The smell was intoxicating as always to Ayato, but he was to busy seething inside to notice completely.
“It was a mistake! I didn’t mean it, I was upset. Forgive me.” You plea body trembling in both pain and fear.
A scowl stretches onto his face, his hand long left your shoulder the minute those words left your lips. Instead, they wrap around your throat, tightening as he processes your words. It came to the point, you were clawing at his hand, letting out choked gasps.
Ayato couldn’t think straight. All he can think about is you being with someone that’s not him. How dare you? Ayato should be your whole world, your first thought when you wake up and your last thought when you sleep. You should feel suffocated by his presence, otherwise he wasn’t doing his job.
Slowly he loosens his hold on you, leaving you chugging down air desperately. A few minutes pass before you glance at him, body going still when you see the huge sinister grin on his face.
“Ore-sama’s just gonna have to remind you who you belong to,” he suddenly grabs your hair and throws you on top of the faucets counter, “No matter how long it takes, everyone will know you belong to Ore-sama.” He finishes before sinking his sharp teeth into your neck with purpose.
Kanato Sakamaki
If it was any normal person, they would be heart broken and move on. But Kanato was anything but normal.
First he lets you get away with talking back to him in your argument yesterday, chosen to forgive you after you reluctantly make him snacks and now.. you had the audacity to cheat on him.
You filthy, untrustworthy mortal.
He was aware all woman were the same. Hell, he constantly reminded him despite the kind attention you gave him. He always assumed your kindness had ulterior motives. Why else would someone be kind to him? He knew he was a handful. He just didn’t care.
Now it was clear how you felt about him, there was no hiding it. There was no hiding from him. This time, you actions are unforgivable. You thought you can toy with his feelings… You’ll pay in the worst way.
When he invited you to his room, you didn’t think much of it. Somehow you were completely oblivious to the news spread throughout the school. In fact, the situation with the date was so far in the back of your head, you have forgotten it had happened. You were just upset in the moment. It was never more than just a sway of words.
That’s why after entering his room to see the person who asked lying lifeless in a pool of blood a few feet away from Kanato, were you shocked. Just a few hours ago, he was alive. Guilt quickly creeped up on you but it was shortly lived when Kanato called for your attention.
“So glad you’re here. Good to know you’re still a little obedient,” he smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He points to the dead on his floor, “Remember them?” he laughs, “Of course they do! Right teddy?” he turns to the bear in his hand.
You remain still, time ticking like a bomb about to go off. Which in all honestly it could, Kanato was unpredictable and if he found out about that and this was the outcome, imagine what he would do to you.
How do you get out of this situation?
“Look at her, teddy. She’s planning something… whatever it is won’t work. No. I don’t like it.” he shakes his head, “I’d much rather your expression be twisted in pain than whatever this is…” he walks towards you, face twisting from one emotion to another before settling into a deep frown. He stops a feet away from you, your back against the door before she even realizes it.
“I do enjoy your terrified expression too, it’s adorable.” he mumbles. It felt like time froze with how long you both been staring at each other. Kanato hold on his bear tights as he stares numbly at you. It was too much, you had to say something.
“Kanato—“ your voice trails off because in a split second, a knife was lunged into your abdomen. It hurt so much, it pulsed with heat. Your mind couldn’t wrap around what was happening. Gripping the arm it was attached to, you looked the culprit in his crazed eyes, “Kan-ato..”
He sneered twisting it harshly, “Did you think you can get away with using me?! I told you I’d break you. Down to your last breath.” he yanks it out, watching your body drop to the floor, struggling to inhale.
“You’re lucky you’re pretty enough to be added to my collection,” he bends down to stab you again in your shoulder. He smiles when you haller out in pain, “To stay with me forever… you should be grateful.” he stabs your leg.
“That’s right.. look at me like that.” he repeatedly stabs you over and over until the life drifts from your eyes to nothing, “You’ll never leave me. Will you?”
Laito Sakamaki
What was this? Is his hearing finally going, has he finally reached that age? No, that can’t be it. So whst exactly was happening?
His little bitch going on a date with some that’s not him? How outrageous. Not possible. He’s the only one who can take you out on sexy rendezvous and risky trips. You liked it better when it was him. He knew that.
So why is it that hearing the rumor stirs something unsettling in him. It tugs at his undead heart and gnaws at his brilliant brain. Before he could do anything, it seeped through the cracks, drowning him.
Every memory with his mother, with every woman he encountered, every person who he thought he loved—who he thought showed him love and every betrayal he assumed or saw came full surface.
It hurt so much. He swore to never feel like this again. And it ate at his mind. If he had a breath to give, it would be ripped right out of him. He didn’t like this. He wasn’t the one in control, he wasn’t the one getting your love. He wasn’t the one playing the game. He felt like the game played… him.
When Laito found you, he all but dragged you to the roof top. A place where terrifying, haunting memories were held. The same ones that kept you on your toes, but failed you every time.
Laito was uncharacteristically quiet, his back turned to you as he stared out into the open planes. It could have been a pleasant sight if you didn’t know what kind of monster he really was.
“Y’know, little bitch.” he starts, taking his hat off to run his free hand through his hair, “There was only one other time I truly loved someone to the point of hate. All the others… they weren’t real.”
Hearing where this conversation was heading, you reach back to grip the handle when a gasp leaves you. No longer were you standing in front of the door, instead Laito has you dangling off the rails of the school on your toes. His right hand was twisted into your uniform shirt, the only thing keeping you from falling.
Quickly, you grab his arm, tears swelling in your eyes as you see the sad expression on his face. It squeezed at you heart, but maybe that was actually the fear of falling.
“Lait-o please!” You lean forward into his touch.
He clicks his tongue, shaking his head at your attempt to sway him. He knew this scene all too well. The first was hard on him, he drowned himself in body after body. No doubt this would be the same. It didn’t bring him the same joy as his usual actions did. This time he truly felt torn.
“Little bitch,” he draws in your attention and you lock eyes, “It doesn’t bring me joy from this. I would have rather spent the rest of our lives together… exploring each other but I can’t tolerate the betrayal.”
It only dawned on you what he was talking about. From the start of this interaction you thought he was being moody but you should have known; play your cards just a little better but it was too late. With a easy unraveling, he lets you go with a gentle push and watches as you descends to the floor.
So many emotions raved through him as he did. He wanted to grab you back and tell you it was a joke. But he stays in place when he hears a loud splat and a pierced scream.
He couldn’t even bring himself to peek before he left. You brought up to many bad memories, how could he forgive you?
Subaru Sakamaki
Subaru really couldn’t stand you. From the moment you entered their home and disrupted his peace. It was always something with you. Always needing saving from someone or something, always needing to be reminded that you were beneath him and everyone in this house.
Yet you seem to not understand it or that you do but you completely throw it to the wind, whatever the reason it pissed him off. All your stupid attempts to get close to him, to try and understand him… to get him to open up.
Then, despite his constant attacks on you, he actually grew some form of attachment. The thought of you sicken him, but the thought of you gone made him mad more. You disgusting, weak human did something to him.
So when he heard the rumor of you agreeing to date someone else. It was like… something broke in him. All his thoughts consumed him, he was a monster. Less than trash. His mother didn’t want him nor his father. Why would you?
He didn’t even like himself sometimes. It’s no surprise the time you have another argument, you agree to date someone else. If he was in your position, he’d run to. Run so far, the chances of anyone catching him was slim to none. But you weren’t that good at running… actually, you couldn’t really run after he caught you.
There was a permanent snarl on his face as he stares down at you. A chained collar secured tightly around your neck, identical to the ones around your wrist. If Subaru wasn’t so aggravated, he could have enjoyed seeing you ruined.
He grips the knife in his left hand, which drips of your blood, “Shut up!” he shouts, listening to your whimpers, “You brought this on yourself. Stupid.. You just don’t learn.”
He moves to crouch in front of you, lifting your head up by the chin, “I told you you’ll die if you stay here.” His left hand raises as he speaks and makes another slash across your skin.
You groan loudly with shut eyes, shaking as he does it again… and again, and again till more and the same wounds bleed profoundly. It was agonizing, with how many hours he’s been at it. It felt like he was never going to lighten up his assaults.
But a miracle shines on you when he pulls away and drops the knife. He stands over you for minutes, chest heaving up and down. You never understood why they pretended to breathe, but you weren’t in the position to question.
There you laid out like a doll. So broken, bruised and bloody. Almost beyond repair. Subaru smiles at that acknowledgment. As much as he was tempted to tear your throat out, the smell of your blood begging him to drain you dry till you were foaming at the mouth; this would have to do.
”I told you… you’ll die.” was the last thing he said before leaving the dungeon, locking it on the way out.
Fuck he hated you.
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DL Masterlist
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y4miiiiiiiii · 2 years ago
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How would the guys react to reader going into mama bear mode on base after bringing their child? Hc
Alrighty sorry for the late reply I was passed out. It's probably gonna be so bad💀
141 x black!milf!reader
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Price
He honestly just wanted to see the cute kid until you almost ripped him appart when he carried them.
So he basically just watches you and your baby from far away, but sometimes will ask to carry or play with the kid.
He would totally bring them toys or books to play with and read them stories.
Won't let anyone approach the kid if you leave them under his responsibility. That's his kid now.
"Oh hey Captain, Is- Is that your kid..?" "..Yes."
Will wait patiently when you will come back and will try his best to help you without triggering you.
Overall he will be quit scared at first and distant but will warm up a little and tries his best not to punish you too hard when you try to kill others.
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Ghost
That man won't even try to approach the kid. His trauma is already enough he don't feel like scaring the child with his appearance.
He would watch you a little amused from afar screaming and about to rip the head off of a rookie who just wanted to play with the kid.
Will honestly be surprised if you let him your kid saying that you trusted him the most among the others.
He will just awkwardly carry the child in his arms and stare down anyone who tries to approach them (mostly Soap and Gaz.) You gave him a mission, he will fulfill it.
"watcha got 'er LT?" "fuck off sergeant you aren't getting 'em."
Overall he won't really pay any mind to you being a mama bear unless you are going feral mode trying to kill someone off.
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Bbg Gaz
He would be INLOVE with the kid, that is until you gave him the most nasty stare you could when he got closer to them with his full gear.
He would remind YOU to wash your own hands before touching the baby. He literally doesn't mind you being a mama bear his mother also was one.
Will help you chase people off and legit will ask Price to help him build a little cradle for them to play safely.
"AHHH A BABY OMG IS IT YOURS CAN I CARRY THEM?!" "1 Strop fucking screaming you will wake the baby up 2 No it's my teammates and 3 did you wash yo hands?"
Overall he doesn't mind and will encourage you into being protective of you child here because of the danger and hygiene. You guys look like a little couple ngl
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Soap
IS THAT A CHILD??? CAN I CARRY IT?? WAIT CAN I PLAY WITH EM READ EM SOME STORIES???
Will cling to you until you agree for him to carry your baby. He is ready to trade his MRE for that child.
He probably has a lot of cousins or nephews so he knows or to take care of a child. You can trust him I think..
He honestly would think you are overreacting to everything because "Cmon ´s a child f'course it'll get hurt." Asshole fr unless its your first.
Overall you can trust him to keep an eye on your child but he will 100% spoil them and make fun of you if you overreact too much.
FINISHED i apologies if it's bad I never wrote before also im french sorry for the misspellings and misunderstandings.
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pianocat939 · 2 years ago
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Hi celina! I'm a new asker but I've been reading your work for a while! Specifically your rottmnt work:)
Could I request a yandere platonic turtles x Gn!reader who's willing? Like just completely accepts that they've been taken from they're life on the surface to live with 4 Mutant turtles in the sewers lol. And maybe reader gets babied and really enjoys it bc I feel like that would be really cute😭
I want nothing more than for my comfort characters to baby and take care of me ngl so I'm definitely projecting
And if its available could I be anon 💨?
Xoxo
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Indulgent aren't we? Well you're not alone my friend. We all are.
You're 💨 anon now.
Tw: overprotective, honestly really fluffy
Platonic Yandere Turtles with Willing MC
"Leo, if they come out the portal with even the tiniest little scratch I'm going to kick you to Bulgaria." Raph crosses his arms and stares down at Leo, uncertainty in his eyes.
"M'kay, I'll just ask for a train to go to the penguins." Leo holds out his sword, ready to create portal when Donnie interrupts him.
"Wait! I need to settle down the safety cushions, and the net if they come flying through plus the-" As he settled down the reinforcements Mikey intervenes.
"Slippers!" The orange-masked turtle places down a pair of slippers, clasping his hands together. "Leo! Send them through, pretty please?"
Leo looks behind, "I would've done it earlier if you guys weren't so particular about me portaling them!" He once again holds out his sword in front of him, then swishes it in a circular motion. An electric blue portal appears instantly, glowing brilliantly.
Momentarily after, a person shoots out from the gateway, landing straight into the net that Donnie held with his robot arms. They groan, opening their drowsy eyes.
"I told you guys! Safety protocol is important!" The scientist exclaims, untangling the victim of the net.
——————————————————
The boys love that you accept their appreciation for you! Now they get to baby you all they want, and you don't even complain!
I would say those who love this the most are Leo and Mikey. Leo likes providing for you so he can be deemed useful, and Mikey just loves serving you in any way.
If you don't like moving too much, or just feel lazy at times, then ask Raph. He loves carrying you around wherever. He's also a great person to sleep/nap with. His big arms are great if you ever want to feel extra safe. Will not let you touch hot food.
Leo is such a fucking try-hard for this that it's hilarious. If you wanna talk, he'll be right there, listening for every word. Do you feel sad? Let his one-liners and horrible jokes make you cringe so hard you laugh! Do you ever feel unsafe? Don't worry, your friend's got you covered!
D'Nello babies in a similar sense to Raph, but more critical. He makes sure your body is having a healthy intake of its needs: the amount of sleep, hydration levels, nutrition, and anything of similar sorts is managed by him. Is your sugar friend(?): he buys anything you want or need.
Mikey is also another cuddler like Raph, except he likes to clutch onto your arm or hand while you guys wander around the lair. He likes doing everything with you! (Well, most activites) If you're an artist, you guys can draw together, or if you're a pianist (totally not projecting) he'll sit down and listen to you play!
If you're ever sick or hurt, they're swarming around you. Both panicked and serious about getting you back in health. Donnie's going to be the worst one out of them all though. He won't leave your side unless he absolutely has to or is fetching something.
All of them will try to partake in your interests. Donnie probably will only do this because it's about you, his favorite person in the universe.
They have a hidden "who's the favourite chart" underneath one of Donnie's structures. Every week they try to debate who's the favourite.
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The guilty fantasy of wanting to be babied is overpowering meeeee.
- Celina
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slamminslamminmcgill · 2 years ago
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OUGHHH ngl...i love howard like as much as i wanna be topped/dommed...he gives off major service bottom vibes. im sure he likes being on top / fuck his partner in missionary bc hes 'plain jane' but ik hes easy to crack when his partner grinds and bounces on his lap. the truly blissed out expression as he grips their hips...its kinda cute.
i mean uhh. men who say great heavens when he sees boytits
- j. 🐇
so true bestie <33
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"God, yes. That's a good boy. Oh, you're doing great."
Howard was nice. Almost too nice. Sex with him was gentle and sweet. Sickeningly sweet. That kind of sweet that makes your teeth hurt and turns your dentist's eyes into dollar signs. Sure, you enjoyed it, especially the view. His brow furrowed, mouth agape, eyes shut, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. You liked seeing him so disheveled, so overwhelmed with pleasure, but he was still too restrained. You wanted more.
You had your arms and legs wrapped around his back, and you tapped his shoulder to get his attention. "Babe?" You asked, your voice more stable than either of you expected it to be.
Howard stopped, his body going stiff as a board. His eyes flew open and a look of panic overtook his face. "What's wrong? Was I going too hard?"
No, you weren't going hard enough, was your immediate thought, but luckily, you pushed that to the side. "No, you're fine. It's just..." You tried to figure out how to approach this, "Can I try something?"
He sighed in relief and relaxed his posture, but his eyes were still bugging out of his head. "S-sure, yeah. What, uh... what did you have in mind?"
You smirked and detached yourself from him. "Not a lot, don't worry," your palms laid on his chest, "Just relax, okay? Tell me if I need to stop."
He gulped. Giving up control was scary, but it was the good kind of scary, like that feeling you get while you're going up on a roller coaster, where there's nothing you can do but subject yourself to the whims of fate. He took a deep breath, a last chance to stabilize himself before he relented. "O-okay..."
The fuse was lit. You pushed him down flat onto the mattress, and he gasped. He looked like he was about to say something, so you silenced him with a kiss. You started to grind your hips down, causing him to moan pathetically into your mouth. You pulled away to let him catch his breath. "Well? Are you enjoying yourself?" you asked as you bounced on his cock, making sure he'd bottom out with every thrust.
"Y-Yes, oh my god, yes... please..." Howard whined and gripped your hips for support, recklessly thrusting himself up into you, his shameless moans echoing throughout the bedroom.
This is what you wanted to see. You wanted him to throw caution to the wind and let loose for once, and he did. This wasn't "making love", as he so often put it. This was fucking. Rough, hasty, animalistic fucking. You looked each other in the eyes, and, although no words were said, you two exchanged the same idea:
"I could get used to this."
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fcknstar · 2 years ago
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,, the one you need "
- harryosborn x reader x peterparker
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a.n : ngl, im slightly proud of this. i truly didnt wanna drag this cause ik, it can be borinngggg but yea.
warnings : none
**lowercase intended**
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it wasnt easy for harry to openly admit his love for you knowing that his best friend felt the same for you. harry was the one who knew you first and introduced peter to you thinking it was harmless. so when he found out that you both started meeting up and went on dates broke him terribly. he didnt know who to turn to, didnt know who to talk to about his little crush he had on  you. harry couldn't even face his best friend when hes talking about the dates he went with you. 
so when you found out that peter was back with gwen after all the dates, you were heartbroken. well, saying that you were heartbroken is an understatement. just when you thought you might be able to have your little romeo and juliet moment, it gets crushed into pieces. i mean, you tried your hardest to be happy for peter. but you just couldn't because when looking back, you realized you were just a rebound for peter. he probably didnt even like you. but you were wrong, peter liked you. 'liked' because peter had feelings for you and gwen, but gwen won his heart faster. you liked peter. he was sweet, caring. you couldn't name a flaw in him even if you tried your hardest to. 
harry was there for you when you needed someones shoulder to cry on. it made harry feel sick knowing that his best friend basically used you and wasted your time, knowing that you could probably spend it with him. 
" yea but it hurts you know.. i wish i wasnt that foolish, god.. " you mumbled, taking a sip of the tea that harry made you. 
" well, you didnt know so i wouldn't blame you. you shouldn't take this so hard okay? there are way better people in this world than peter and you know that.. " harry looked at you. he wished you knew exactly what he meant. 
" there are people in this world that would treat you better, treat you better than he can. just give it some time alright? " you nodded when his words were processed. harry was right. he always is. 
" thank you harry.. really. i dont think i could even leave my bed if it wasnt for you.. " you chuckled. it was about time that you moved on. maybe it wasnt your time to find a lover. you knew itd be hard to find the one that truly loves you. you find it hard to truly find someone, seeing that your parents relationship isnt even steady, you were scared that itd happen to you someday. harry wanted you to look at him the way you looked at peter. big dreamy, doe eyes that lights up whenever he walks into the room. 
opening his arms softly towards you, harry offered you a hug. its a tradition for both of you to share hugs because it comforts you both. smiling softly, you embraced harry. you felt harry rub your back comfortingly, tightening the hug as a 'thank you'. 
you knew exactly what harry meant by " there are better people in this world that would treat you better " you were just too scared that such history would repeat itself. but what if its worth it? what if hes the one you need?
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