#maybe off-putting to everyone else but to darling it’s cute
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still thinking about eldritch monster tako……
i just adore the trope of “would you still love me if i was a monster?” and he’s quite literally a monster of unimaginable horror. the rot you pulled out from some random tree burrow. T_T this concept works really well with jade or even floyd (or malleus maybe) because they’re also interesting to put into this concept, but because i love, love, love tako he gets to be the eldritch monster this time. >w< there was an idea of eldritch horror riddle somewhere in my drafts….
the idea that the only thing preventing him from killing and eating you (and your parents) is because it’s you is just so delicious to me!!! because he likes you and the humans who raised him, who showed him warmth, something he never had until you reached for him out of innocent curiosity. 🥺 monster tako who doesn’t understand love because in his mind the logic is “to love is to hunger” and he hungers for you and your warmth, your praise, your approval, your affections.
this creature who could probably bring about the end of the world, but because he’s lived so long as a human, immersed in human culture, he just wants to connect with you. :< you’re all he really cares for. so even when friends and not-so-great partners go missing, devoured by some terrible, starving beast, you never suspect it could be him. you’re his favorite person; he cares about you so much, which is why he can restrain himself for your sake. sure, maybe being around him for too long makes you physically ill and maybe your body has built some sort of immunity to tolerate him,,, maybe his presence gives you nightmares and visions and dreams of The Horrors and The Voices. but at the end of the day he’s just a guy, so it’s really okay. <3
this is all very scrambled and rambling, but the main point is that he could kill you and your family, but he chooses not to because he has a little (actually, it’s a huge) crush on you. OTL obsession prevails,,, this is all a very roundabout way of saying the sex is sweet and sugary and he’s very inexperienced with all of these feelings and human concepts.
i love him a lot. \(//∇//)\
#meraki mumbles#he’s weird but it’s oddly charming#maybe off-putting to everyone else but to darling it’s cute
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Could you do Hermes and/or Apollo head-cannons if there s/o is like a princess but her father (the king) was both verbally and physically abusing her thx :)
tumblr user arsonist123 really making me reconsider adding the heart after every post's title but i'm commited to the aesthetic
Hermes and Apollo with an abused princess darling ♡
Hermes
Hermes is the type of guy to straight up kidnap you. Consensually, of course. If you'd let him, he would absolutely just pick you up and fly off, giggling loudly.
But of course, you're too kind for this world despite all the suffering and hardships you've endured and you don't want to leave the people in your kingdom with the tyrant king.
It's adorable, of course, but come on, the kidnapping thing would've been so much fun!
Still, Hermes adores your cute self too much to just go against your wishes like that. And so he starts to think of a plan to get you to himself. He might be getting some tips from Athena, but he decides those are too boring. And then he has the brilliant idea to ask Zeus for help.
Because asking Zeus about romance obviously always works well.
Still, no matter who helped, Hermes did come up with a plan! Sort of.
His plan is to quite literally scare your father shitless. He uses his role as the Messenger God and delivers your father a very scary (and very fake) prophecy from Apollo himself. Yes, he got his help to write it. To make it more believable.
And then cashed in a few favors, getting Zeus and Poseidon to cause some nasty storms around your island. Maybe some shitty crops if Demeter agrees to help. And maybe a tiny plague with Apollo's help.
And the "prophecy" clearly states your father has to give up his crown to you and leave the palace to live as a beggar among his people.
And it also includes you making a visit to a certain god's temple to get his blessings and so the curse placed on your land is undone. A temple that belongs to someone who's not afraid to... send a message.
Of course you go to his temple, knowing damn well who the "prophecy" was about. And you confront him about it, flicking his nose.
"You've made the whole prophecy thing up, didn't you, Hermes?"
You only get laughter in response.
Apollo
When he learned that his precious little ray of sunshine is getting hurt, he comes up with a plan.
Now, of course, he'd be delighted to simply shoot your father, but that would put you at risk of being given away to one of your suitors.
The suitors you, of course, keep refusing, absolutely enamored with the God who composes songs and speaks poetry just for your ears each night.
And so, he plans to free you in a way that you'll probably consider very sweet and romantic.
He disguises himself as an artist, a musician, who wishes to work in your father's palace and asks for your hand in marriage.
Of course, while your father laughs at him marrying you, he does enjoy music, so he lets the mysterious man stay and play for him.
He is immediately the only one you care about, sneaking away whenever you can. You're happy! You're just so happy that he's there, always giving you that soft, adoring look as he subtly serenades you, his words so masterful that only you understood, everyone else assuming his songs were about the beauty of nature.
Eventually, even if it takes weeks or maybe even months, he softens your father's heart and asks again to have you as his bride.
It's worth noting that with just how your father has grown to adore the new musician, he's also stopped harming you in any way, easily soothed into sleeping if he was nearby, charmed by Apollo's words.
And then, once the king finally agrees, Apollo reveals himself as the god of music and poetry, taking you away from your father's kingdom...
And then he still shoots him, of course.
#ask#arsonist123#epic#epic the musical#epic musical#epic the musical x reader#apollo#epic hermes#apollo x reader#epic apollo#hermes#hermes x reader#epic hermes x reader#epic apollo x reader
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Heatwave: Day 2
tw: explicit content. 5k+ words. yuta/reader. female!alpha!reader, alpha!yuta, reader has a knot but also a vag. very barely dubcon, masturbation, fingering. mostly lots of pining. also light curse!rika/reader, but no monsterfucking (yet. curse!rika would 1000% hit it tho)
listen... it's not very smutty but read the fic. just read the fic. you're a tsundere and yuta and his curse girlfriend are smitten with you. it's really cute i promise.
Prompt: An Alpha finds themselves exhibiting omega traits in front of a stronger alpha.
Female alphas were less common than male ones, but they were common enough for there to be stereotypes about them.
Scary girls. Big girls. Strong independent women who didn’t need no men, ate pretty omega boys for breakfast.
There was a certain type of alpha – exclusively male, sometimes beta men were like this too – that saw a kind of challenge to it.
These sorts of dudes were obsessed with ‘alpha pussy’, swore it was tighter and hotter than any omega hole ever could be.
Never mind that there were some omegas who couldn’t take large knots without training, and anyone who wasn’t an omega needed a lot of practice before trying to take any knot at all.
It wasn’t about realism with these assholes. It was some weird, self-fellating bullshit about having made another alpha their bitch, being the alpha to another alpha.
Asshole alphas, that’s a good way to put it. A bunch of fuckwads who thought only with their knots and their egos.
Each and every one of them thought they were god’s gift to creation because they were alphas, born special and better than everyone else, all that garbage.
Yuta isn’t an asshole, but he is, shockingly enough, an alpha.
He’s a nice boy – maybe the nicest alpha you’ve ever met.
Makes it all the funnier that you get paired up with him on missions so often; the scary alpha girl and the gentle alpha boy.
You’d doubt his identity, too, if you didn’t know better. But you can smell it on him all the same. Unmistakable. Alpha.
And he’s strong, really strong, probably stronger than you, though the thought rankles.
Special grade, you’d heard – mostly because of the cursed spirit that hangs out with him.
But it’s not the spirit you smell when you sneak a discreet whiff of the scarf he’d left on the bench this one time. It’s an alpha, through and through.
It’s not the spirit that darts into the field on missions before you can, places himself between you and danger without even thinking about it.
Carves destruction with a graceful, brutal blade and then turns back to you with a sheepish smile asking if you’re all right.
He’s so… gentle. Careful. You’re not even sure he can get angry.
The closest you’d ever seen him to it was when a curse popped up behind you on a mission, while he was occupied with a special grade of his own on the other side of the room.
You’d seen a barrier appear in an instant, which must have been his domain expansion, and only a few seconds later the curse he’d been fighting was gone and the curse that ambushed you was impaled on his blade.
Even with blood on his face, he’d smiled at you.
Eyes shut, voice warm with sincerity, but the air was filled with a tense note of danger, barely constrained threat… just not towards you.
Somehow, you want to see more.
-
Prodding at Yuta Okkotsu is no easy task.
He’s about the most mild-mannered person you’ve ever met, and half-terrified that someone mistreating him would get on the bad side of the cursed spirit who hangs around him.
But you’re determined, and there’s not a lot that can stop you when you put your mind to it.
Alphas had a personal bubble – just like everyone else – and when another alpha gets into it, it usually sets them off.
You start to invade Yuta’s space; first, in small ways.
Leaning in when you hand him a soda, sitting a touch too close on a bench, lingering whenever one of you pins the other during sparring.
There’s a flush on his darling face, a tightening of his features as you see him catch your scent and react to your proximity before he represses the reaction completely.
But soon enough, that doesn’t phase him at all.
You've gotta hand it to him. That's some real control.
Soon he’s touching your hand when you pass him things, you can lean against him while you sit next to each other and he doesn’t bat an eye.
Neither does that supposedly scary curse of his, for that matter.
You see her, once, on a mission. A curse sneaking up behind you (it wouldn’t have been able to hurt you anyways) and you catch her, the curse Yuta normally keeps so carefully hidden.
Massive. Magnificent.
It’s not something you’d normally say about a curse but Rika comes with a scent all her own, fresh and woodsy pine, pricking at your senses while a gaping maw of sharp teeth closes around some pitiful lesser creature.
The blood splatters, on the floor, on her ‘face’. She has no eyes you can see, but you feel her gaze on you anyways. Heavy in the midst of the silence, until Yuta’s panicked voice rings out, and she disappears completely.
Pine lingers in your senses.
That’s not what Yuta smells like, though.
He smells so little, actually, so heavily repressed that you’re not surprised most people think he’s a beta. But your senses are better than most, and you can detect it.
Faint. Warm. Almost… oily? Like olive oil, maybe, something humble and smooth, but unexpectedly decadent.
Like the scent of a lone burning candle in an old shrine, not quite dusty, but with a book-like scent that came with ink and paper.
It’s hard to detect. You need to get closer to really pin it down.
Yuta’s physical abilities are weak, after all, so it’s easy to make up excuses to spar with him. More and more, since you can tell he’s no longer uncomfortable with you in his space.
One fine winter morning, you catch the opportunity you want.
A tumble on the ground (he was always so afraid of Rika coming out, but she never did when he fought you), a little scuffle that leaves the adorable gentleman alpha flushed and flustered, and you manage to snag his scarf off of him.
In the pocket of his jacket you leave him something in return; a band not quite large enough to be a scarf that you’d used to tie your hair.
It should have plenty of your scent on it, enough to make him sniff the air once or twice before he figured out it was there.
The thought pleases you. Like you can tease him a little bit at some random moment throughout the day, without even being there.
It’s five whole days before Yuta returns it to you.
His face a touch bashful, even though he must have known full well that you’d slipped it into his coat yourself. Eyes downcast, as if afraid to meet yours; Yuta Okkotsu, the special-grade terror.
He doesn’t ever ask for the scarf back.
Not that you remember it. It’s just sitting on your desk. You barely think about it.
It just happens that it still has his scent on it, but that makes sense.
It would have been in contact with his scent glands every day, wrapped around his neck like a collar. Like a warm embrace.
You don’t touch it, so it still smells like him. Warm and welcoming.
He’s really not much of an alpha.
After you spar, he always compliments you, careful to note any potential weaknesses between bits of lavish praise. His shadowed, dark eyes sparkle a touch when he tells you, a warm smile on his lips.
Yuta’s always doing that, complimenting people. You’ve never known him to disparage anyone. Never a bad word for a single person you’d met.
So kind. What kind of alpha is this sweet?
Somewhere deep down, though, you know. A real leader, someone people trust and rely on, a friend who would cross oceans for you, move mountains, if it would help you out even a little.
Sweet boy, like cotton candy. Comforting like a warm candle on a cold winter night.
So bright even thought Yuta looks like the gloomiest boy alive. Sometimes when you think of him your tongue runs over your lips, like you’re hungry for more.
You push him further.
You don’t avoid him when you’re close to your rut. In fact you make a point to be near him, get into his space.
Sure, you’d invaded it plenty now, but with your scent oozing out of you, pheromones heavy in the air screaming breed, breed, breed, and you figure something in Yuta will crack.
You never stop to think about whether or not you want it to.
-
It’s on a nice, sunny day that it happens. The most embarrassing moment of your entire existence.
Pre-rut is a bit brutal but you’re down to tough it out. Sparring with Yuta always helps, anyways.
You’re especially snarky, too, like you get during your rut, eager to taunt, to get more out of him.
“C’mon Yuta, that’s not all you’ve got, right? Ask your curse girlfriend for help, I’ll bet she knows how to lay it out.” Adrenaline fuels your heated banter as you watch Yuta pointedly avert his gaze, “You’re flinching and I’m barely hitting you.”
“I can do it,” He almost grumbles, but you think you see a shadow behind him, or maybe you just imagine it, lurking and eager to jump out, “And she woul- Rika is strong.”
The hormones are bad, though. Getting your body heavy with sweat and panting, moving around, lashing out at him, striking, grappling…
“That’s more like it!”
“You can take this much? Then - I’ll do even more!”
Who the fuck are you kidding. It’s the most fun you’ve had in weeks.
Yuta’s strong, stronger than almost anyone you know, he’s right in front of you, so close you can smell you can touch you get your hands on him and he on you and you’re rolling, rolling through the grass –
Yuta pins you, heavy breaths breezing over you, carrying the warm rich smell of him in your senses.
Sweat dripping down his forehead, mouth wide open, you can almost taste it (taste what?).
His eyes are dark and deep and beautiful and they look down at you like –
He’s looking at you like –
His lips curl upwards into the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen, your heart skips ten beats and you – you just feel so warm –
underneath him – the comforting weight of his body against yours – that delectable smell dripping over you – his arms around you, holding you –
You cough out a noise you think is a laugh. Yuta tilts his head to the side with fondness written all over his face.
“That was a pretty heavy bout – good job!” He beams down at you, voice is full of praise pouring over you like liquid gold, “Are you alright?”
You open your mouth to tell him you are, and to your horror, you realize the noise you make. You’re purring.
Instantly your face is set on fire.
“I.” oh god. What. What the fuck, “I’m…” Your voice breaks in a rumble.
Oh god this is so weird, alphas don’t purr at other alphas, what’s wrong with you – “Yeah! Fine!”
You say it too loudly and it shows. Yuta’s so close to you there’s no way he can’t tell what’s happening.
Even otherwise, your voice is cracking like some kind of hormonal teenage boy and you just.
Evacuate. Evacuate immediately.
Your hands fly up to Yuta’s chest and you try desperately not to notice how surprisingly well-built he is as you shove him up and off you.
He offers no resistance, stepping up and offering you a hand which you ignore in favor of sprinting off, like a guilty person would do.
Seriously? Seriously? This would go down in history as the day your dignity died.
Where was your pride as an alpha? Where was your – your anything, to be honest.
Why the fuck had you just?? Gone so completely gooey and melty underneath him when he smiled at you like that?
Even thinking back on it heats your face. Then again, the whole thing was super embarrassing, so your face was hot anyways.
It occurs to you, walking back to your room in great shame, that you weren’t actually worried about anyone finding out about this, just that it had happened.
Alphas don’t usually purr unless they’ve just knotted someone and they want them to feel good.
And omegas would typically only purr at close family members or intended mates; a lazy sign of comfort and peace, and very occasionally, a come-hither-I’m-feeling-frisky signal to their alpha.
Whatever conclusion could be made about you purring at Yuta from underneath him… there was no option that wasn’t utterly humiliating.
But you only had to worry about what Yuta would think.
You knew Yuta wouldn’t breathe a word about this. Probably not even if someone held a knife to his throat (not that they could… special grade and all).
…you start to feel kinda bad now, actually.
No matter how you’d poked or prodded, Yuta Okkotsu hadn’t snapped at you.
Unflinching in his kindness. Eager to help always, with a hand or some friendly advice. Protective and powerful, never hesitating to put himself between you and danger.
You’d been inching into his space. Stealing his things. Taunting him during practice.
Honestly, if someone else acted like this to you, you’d call them a pest. You wouldn’t smile at them. Not like that.
Yuta must’ve been some kind of saint in a past life, if nothing you’ve done bothers him at all.
It’s weird. It’s all weird. Alphas aren’t like this, neither of you should be like this.
-
It gets worse. It all gets worse, so much worse.
Your rut is in full swing now, burning through you, searing holes in every ounce of sanity you ever thought you had. Nothing is sacred anymore, nothing is off-limits. There’s no shame left and no restraint.
The most heinous ideas flit through your mind, little flashes, lewd imagery of holes to fuck into and knots to squeeze, the tight press of flesh on flesh and dark eyes and lips that curve so gently upwards.
A scent that flutters just at the edge of your senses like the well-worn pages of familiar book.
The best you can do is stop yourself from crying out. The images get clearer, until there’s no denying what they are.
Yuta, on his hands and knees.
All spread apart.
Above you.
Below.
Smiling gently. Whispering words into your ear.
His lean form, the sleek musculature you know from so many fits of sparring, finally bared for you to feast your eyes. “Do you like it, alpha?”
Yes. Yes yes yes yes. Every fiber of your being cries out. The throbbing between your legs is unbearable.
“Do you want it?”
Never wanted anything more.
“You’re such a good alpha. I’m glad.”
Just the thought of the words, in his voice, draws a moan from your lips.
You want him. Want want want want WANT you NEED him where is he where can you find him? You’re going to hunt him down and –
The last remaining threads of your sanity grant you a burst of intuition.
A detail you’d never really forgotten:
The scarf on your desk. The one you hadn’t touched, hadn’t made smell like you. It should still smell like him.
Wait. Wait. What are you, some omega jerking off to the scent of your fucking crush –
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Crush. Okkotsu.
But you can’t get yourself to think about how that’s wrong, can’t convince yourself to deny anything when a pulsing, throbbing sensation between your legs screams mate mate my mate all mine –
Stumbling, staggering, all the way to the desk. Arm reaching out while you’re bent over and panting and nearly whining in your need.
Fuck. Pathetic, so pathetic.
And then you hold the scarf to your face, clutched in your hand like a lifeline. The scent of it is faint and inexplicably cozy, pure relief flooding through you.
It brings you to your knees. The ache between your legs demands attention and your other hand rushes to meet it, jerking and rubbing against your sexes while you sniffle and tear up.
Ruts suck when you spend them alone but this is better and worse than anything you’d ever experienced.
Bucking up into your hands, breathing in his scent like you can fill him in your lungs, inhale him like a cigarette and finally get rid of the pounding demand in your brain.
Every breath feels shallow, every grind against your hand only seems to make you hotter and hotter.
The ache in your core feels like being tugged around, demanding jerks of painful pleasure that don’t get you there, don’t get you what you need.
It’s all you can do to whimper and nuzzle into his scarf.
The primitive side of you urges you to pull it between your legs leg him take care of you, good mate, good alpha, let him feel you there, but your arm locks in place so you can keep breathing the scent like a lifeline.
When you finally do cum, you’re more exhausted than anything, spurting pitifully out over your hands and knees, knot bulging uselessly against your lower belly.
It leaks, slowly, painfully, as if to give you time to think about what you’ve done.
You decide you’d really rather not. Sliding a drawer open to pull out a toy, another toy, three of them, even – enough to overstimulate yourself to high hell, to keep every thought of Yuta and his scent out of your brain.
A vibrator in any hole you could fit it in, against anything that throbbed or ached. A fleshlight to fuck into, one a size too small just to make it hurt more.
Way less lubricant than you could have used, but somehow, your cunt leaks more than enough for all of it.
All to just barely stop the fantasies of a dark-haired, dark-eyed boy with a smile and a scent like the sun.
Without a doubt it’s the most miserable rut you’ve ever had.
You’re raw, red, and sore by the end of it and all you can feel is barely concealed rage at your own self for putting you through this shit.
You don’t even know if you’re mad that you fucked up, or that you’re crushing this fucking hard on a really nice dude you’ve been antagonizing for weeks.
As soon as your rut ends, you steal another one of Yuta’s scarves.
You don’t give him anything in return this time.
-
Yuta likes women; this is something he’s known for a while.
It’s not until recently that he’s come to terms with the fact that he exclusively likes alpha women. He has you and Maki to thank for that.
In retrospect, considering his first love was a strong-willed young girl who proposed to him, it should probably have been more obvious.
Lucky for him, Rika also has a taste for alpha women, and she likes you much better than she liked Maki.
To be perfectly honest, it was Rika who liked you first.
The Rika he knew had passed on. The Rika beside him now is a curse that grew alongside him; in the image of his loved one, distorted and massive in all its malevolent glory.
She listened to him, for the most part, but perhaps because of some baser instincts of his – or perhaps some left-over preferences from Rika herself – she treats you with a particular affection.
You offer him a drink, moving just a touch too close to hand it over, and he feels Rika hum in approval.
His eyes glance over you unwillingly, your scent faint in his nose. It’s not as harsh as another alpha’s scent normally would be, either, which should have been his first warning.
Whenever you get close – too close, so much that it has to be on purpose – it’s almost overwhelming, so many emotions fluttering through him that he swears he can hear Rika giggling.
She likes it, too. You’re like fresh soil, like morning dew, the rainfall on a summer’s day.
He can tell, after one day he catches you right before your rut, wrestling with him, pinned underneath him and purring; you like him, too.
And then, he fucks it all up.
“Hey,” He calls you out by name and you turn back, meeting his eyes and walking back up to him.
The immediate response causes something dark and warm to burst in his chest; Rika purrs invisibly in his mind.
You try not to show it but you’re pleased when he calls out to you. He can smell it on you, happy pheromones that let him know you’re pleased he’s asked for you.
Not unlike an omega, and that thought really sets him going.
All this time you spent playing coy. Teasing him then running away, even from your own feelings.
You want him so bad but you’re so nervous, and seeing someone so strong and beautiful be so anxious about your want for him drives him completely and utterly insane.
It’s not like you’re cowardly, like he could be, sometimes.
You’re strong, you always give him a fight when you spar, you take the losses like a champ –
You would take his knot so so well RIKA PLEASE STOP THAT RIGHT NOW.
Now you’re staring at him, blushing like a schoolgirl, waiting for him to speak to you. So cute. So cute.
He’d caught you stealing his scarf again, you never gave any of it back. Are you building a nest? Do you like his scent like he likes yours?
Licking his lips, Yuta asks, “You’re – you’re an alpha, right?”
Oh. Oh, he should not have said that.
The surprise that flits across your face, and then the outrage, they tell him the same thing –
But his body receives a very different message, cock jumping in his pants at the scent.
All those times you’d sparred with him had trained him to get hard when you got in his space like this. Your scent wasn’t a threat, but a delicacy, and in his chest a rumble stuttered along with Rika.
“What the fuck are you trying to say, Okkotsu?”
Oh. Family name. You were really mad.
He could tell his face had already fallen by how you looked torn between pity and anger.
An apology lurched to stutter out through his lips, but instead –
Instead –
On the tip of his tongue, the edge of his senses –
“Are you… wet?” It sounds like a question, but that’s sheer politeness on his part.
He can smell it on betas as well as omegas, so it made sense that he could smell it on a female alpha, too.
Your face is hot, bright red, and so, so darling.
He can tell Rika is as thrilled to see it as he is, that she longs to reach out with one of her massive claws and clutch around your shapely waist, hold you in place for him to –
“What the fuck? Okkotsu?!”
Oh no. No no no no no no no. No! “Rika! Rika, don’t hurt her!”
She’s not hurting you. She would never hurt you.
This is probably worse.
“Hurt me? Fucking – ff – hng,” Yuta can’t stop the lurch in his gut, the wave of pure arousal that washes over him at the sound you make, “Get her off me, Okkotsu, you – ”
Your face is so red. Your scent. Your scent. It’s perfuse, a strong, tangy thing, delicious, he’d grown addicted to it and wasn’t that your fault?
Didn’t you do this to him, on purpose? Don’t you want him like this?
Slipping him little tastes here and there, shoving it in his face all the time.
Passing him a sample while you sneakily stole his scarf, hoarding his scent like a needy little omega?
Teasing him, getting in his face while you were in rut?
Purring at him when he pinned you underneath him?
Flushing when he called out to you, looking back, running up to him eagerly like an obedient, darling thing?
Yuta thought he liked alpha women, and he does.
But it looks like he especially likes alpha women who go all soft and squishy for him without saying as much, squirming and blustering and making faces like they’d like to eat him as soon as they thought he wasn’t looking.
“Don’t be upset.” His hands roam down to your sides. He doesn’t miss how you jerk at the contact. “I asked so I could help. Are you wet?” He says your name, a dark fire in his eyes.
You watch his tongue dark between his lips. Bite back a whimper. “Help me how? What’s – what’s she doing?”
“Helping me help you.” If you don’t want to tell, he’ll just check for himself.
His hands are cold, though, and you can’t stop the high gasp that escapes you when his hands dig under your waistband.
He murmurs a soft apology and the curse behind you chitters, chilled claws carefully wrapped around your torso.
Yuta drags your shorts and panties down in one motion, cooing softly at you when you shriek, one hand caressing your shoulder while Rika purrs, pressing herself up against your back.
Filling your senses with pine and Yuta’s oil, a scent like fire that burns to behold.
Warms you like sunlight.
“Yuta-” Even you weren’t sure what you were going to say, but his fingers between your legs send your brain for a complete loop. “I – what are you – we’re in – ”
“I put up a veil,” Yuta says, like (he knows) that was your only real objection.
Or maybe he’s lying. Yuta could tell you he was wearing Ryomen Sukuna’s underwear and you’d believe him, as long as he looked at you like that.
The smile you love so much is hungry, now, with those eyes dark with desire, with a curse clawing at you tenderly, like she just can’t let you go for even a second. Churning pleased little noises with every press and flex of her massive fingers around you.
Fingers darting to spread open your folds, even as you squirm. Bared in broad daylight with Yuta right in front of you.
Circling your hole while he looks you in the eyes, pressed close enough to hear you whine.
“I knew you were wet,” He murmurs, in a soft voice that sends liquid heat dripping down your legs, “Could smell it.”
Yuta leans in. He’s so pretty, so handsome, such a dark and darling thing with those heavy, soulful eyes.
He’s so close that when he whispers your name, you feel it on your lips. “You smell so good.”
He didn’t sound this hot even in your daydreams. He’s so close. So close. His breath ghosts over you like a curse hanging on your shoulder.
Your mouth falls open. Watering, like your cunt. Desperate for a taste.
And maybe you’re still an alpha after all, because finally, finally, you dive in and take what you want.
He tastes as rich on your lips as he’s smelled, soft and oiled and coating your senses. Blotting out everything until all you know is him.
Him, teasing over your clit with careful strokes. Growling into the kiss like he’s warning you not to pull back, Rika pressing you forward like you’re two dolls she can’t wait to smash together.
Arms dart out to his shoulders to steady yourself as he dips his fingertips into your entrance. Generous, broad strokes over your folds he spreads your arousal all over, returning to rub at your clit as he pulls away.
It’s good. So good. The oncoming pleasure builds and builds slowly with his ministrations, pooling heavily in your lower half. The urge to buck into it overtakes you, writhing for more friction as sparks begin to fly against your clit, closer, closer –
And then it’s you who can’t look away, locked in place under his gaze. “You’re going to cum for me? Do you want to?”
God it’s so fucking close, tears blot your eyes as you jerk into his fingers, and Yuta doesn’t even try to deny you.
He smiles at you, carefree. He already has his prey in front of him, unable to escape, uninterested in even trying.
You give him a feverish nod. “Will you tell me so? I want to hear you.”
Just a little faster, just a little more, more, “More please, please, make me cum –”
An exhale of a breath you hadn’t known he was holding, diving in towards your neck, nuzzling against your scent. Burying your face in his shoulder where his own was strongest.
It’s that breath that puts you over the edge, fast strokes of his fingers finally igniting the heavy pleasure pent up in your lower belly, the scent of him pouring over you.
You cum with a cry, mouthing at his neck just to soothe yourself, to taste him.
You feel the wetness of his tongue on your own scent glands. Hot. Drooling. He suckles at your taste, soft lips pressed to bare, vulnerable skin, and you let your head roll to the side to give him more.
All you can feel now is warmth. Warmth and Yuta’s familiar scent that makes your insides twist, the aftershocks still shuddering through you, twitching in his hold like some pitiful creature.
Every muscle in your body relaxes, and it’s only Rika’s grasp on you keeping you up. Fortunately, she’s strong. So strong.
Her head nestles into your shoulder, scenting you. Sweet, chilling pine on your sweaty skin. She purrs you through the bliss, cool against your body caught against Yuta’s own.
There’s a hilariously awkward moment where the two of you start catching your breath. Yuta looks flushed, handsome, as lovely as ever.
Still, his eyes find yours. He smiles. He’s always smiling at you, you’ve started to realize.
The thought makes you happy.
You like it. You like it a lot. Like him.
He’s even better than the fantasies.
“I’m going into rut,” Yuta says. “Because of… this.”
You swallow. “Oh. Okay.”
It’s hard to think too much about it, when the heat in your core is still dissipating, face burning up while you have yet to regain control of your limps
And between the two of you, Yuta must be the real alpha, because he’s the one who goes and just says it already.
“Will you spend it with me?”
“Your… your rut?”
“Yes. I want you to spend it with me.” He’s so close. You can feel the heat of his breath between you. "If you want."
A pause. You try, oh lord, do you try, to gather your thoughts for just one moment. “Are you going to try and mark me?”
“Can I?” His eyes are too light, too eager, the words too quick to fall from his lips.
Alphas don’t ask for permission like puppies begging for treats. But Yuta, your Yuta, he’s already pleading with his eyes.
“Maybe you should be more worried about me marking you.”
“Would you?” Barely contained excitement oozes from him, from his pheromones to his bright expression.
You think you hear Rika giggle behind you. Pleased. Razor teeth ghosting over your ear in a little kiss, as if to urge you forth.
It’s working. If you fuck this boy, you’re gonna bite him.
You’re going to sink your teeth into him the first chance you get, make him yours yours all yours forever and have him every way he can bend, mark him up until he fucks you back into submission.
You’ll fuck him and fuck his curse girlfriend, too.
But it would be weird to just say it, right?
“Maybe.”
He laughs at that.
Oh. Yuta’s always been pretty good at reading between the lines, hasn’t he?
Or, you think as he leans in for a kiss, forehead pressed to yours – maybe he was just good at reading you.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#yuta okkotsu#yuta x reader#yuta x you#okkotsu yuuta#yuuta x reader#yuuta x you#omegaverse#alpha!reader#alpha!yuta#alpha x alpha#this is fluffier than you think#you're kinda tsundere it's really cute actually#mutual pining#i liked writing the banter/interactions more than i liked writing the smut actually. does it show?#rika x reader#yuta smut#yuuta smut
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Yay!

(yandere! sweetheart x gn! reader)
You've seen him around. Seen how he talks, how he acts. And you're certain of one thing.
He's not what he looks to be.
Others might say you're paranoid or something, say you're just jealous of him and how everyone seems to adore him. But you really aren't. You just... You're just scared of him.
You're sure of it. It's his whole vibe and aura. It fucking creeps you out and you just can't understand why no one else can feel that. But you suppose it's because he looks like just another guy who's awfully sweet.
His eyes, lips, they all tell a different story as compared to the eerie vibe he gives off. Normally the eyes would be able to tell if he was just acting but... Even his eyes show that he's just a sweetheart.
You've rethought your opinions on him several times. Maybe you're just mistaken. Perhaps you're thinking too much about it.
But no matter how hard you've tried to see him in a positive light, your stomach churns with an indescribable fear. And your gut has never once lied to you.
Which is why you're currently trying to leave this scary situation which your best friend has put you in. She had brought you out to eat for a hangout and out of nowhere, this guy popped out and your friend invited him to join you two without caring about your opinion. You really wanted to punt her after she did that.
Anyways, she's in the toilet right now which means that you're left alone with him.
You didn't know what to say. You honestly just wanted to avoid him if you could. But he seemed to have other ideas.
"So! What have you been up to? I've been volunteering and helping around town, planting flowers and accompanying old granny-"
You tune out his words, staring at him with a slightly unnerved expression. Shit, he really does look like your average cute guy who's just a sweetheart. You can't help but feel bad about ignoring him but... even now, you're on edge. How could this be? You don't even sense any malicious intent but you're worried?
"Hey! Are you not listening?"
You snap out of your daze, blinking several times as you gulp nervously.
"Ah... apologies. I was just... tired, yeah."
"Hm..."
He hums, still smiling at you as he props his hands on the table and rests his chin on them. You figut the urge to look away from him as he stares holes into your skull. Shit, when is your friend going to return? You can't handle this anymore...
"Say, darling, do I scare you that much?"
He suddenly mumbles, catching you off guard by the petname and his words. What? He knew that he scared you?
"I knew that you were different. That you could see something others couldn't. Which is why I was interested in the first place. But it really hurts me to see you blatantly ignoring me more and more each day."
He complains, pouting at you as he continues to stare straight into your soul. You feel a shiver run down your spine as your mouth runs dry. Wait what? What is going on? Why did he say that? He knew? Darling? Did he like you?! What the hell?
"You're really special to me. I really don't want you to be scared of me."
He reaches one of his hands out and places it above your trembling ones. He smiles warmly, though you can't help but feel chilled by the action. Damn boy! Stop! You don't like this!
"W-what are you-"
"I am completely in love with you. And I apologize about my... condition that has scared you."
He admits, cheeks flushed as he continues to stare at you, eyes unblinking. You have no response to him. Who knew that the town sweetheart that scared the shit out of you had fallen for you? And condition? Oh shit, was he like, a devil or something?
You gulp nervously, lower lip trembling as you freeze in your seat. Cold sweat decorates your forehead as you pray for your friend to hurry her ass up.
"Ah... I had planned to just take you, you know? But I don't want you to be too frightened of me... It hurts. Truly."
He sighs before removing his hand away from yours, looking at the direction in which your friend was walking from. Thank god! What was she even doing for so long?! She was gone for five full minutes, damn!
"Your friend is back, let's cheer up a bit, hm?"
He chuckles lightly, stirring his coffee as he finally breaks the prolonged eye contact which made you feel naked. Whew, finally that was over. You felt molested by him even though all he did was say some creepy shit.
But... condition. Hm... You'd need to do more research about him. Maybe then you could finally understand why you felt so unnderved by this guy.
And perhaps even try to get rid of the constant stress in your mind. Which would be him, obviously.
He seemed to know so much about you yet you know almost nothing about him. This was really not an optimal position for you.
"Haha! Did you see a ghost or something? You look scared as shit!"
Your friend jokes, taking her seat beside you as she goes back to eating her cake.
Yeah, she was right. You did just see a ghost. And this ghost was sitting right at the table together with you two.
Damn it, this was really the worst.
#suiana's sinners#yandere#tw yandere#yandere x reader#yandere drabbles#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere concept#yandere sweetheart#yandere sweetheart x reader#gn reader#suiana rambling#suiana brainrotting
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Pretend It's Someone That Came for You (18+)



pairing: coworker!wonwoo x fem!touch-starved!reader
genre: coworker au, office au, strangers to lovers, angst w a happy ending, smut (MDNI!!), fluffy fluffy fluff fluff
description: you're lonely. you're so lonely you think it might actually kill you. but when wonwoo transfers to your office, he might just change that fact.
warnings: unprotected sex (do NOT pls my babes), soft dom!wonwoo, sub!reader, v loving sex, praise (f. receiving), confession of love, riding, fingering (f. receiving), pussy rubbing tihi, pet names (pretty girl, good girl, baby, darling, etc), VERY angsty beginning, yn is truly v sad so DO NOT READ THIS if u fear it will make u sad!!, they say i love u unrealistically fast but i had to do it, yn uses sex to feel less lonely/ends up feeling more lonely, relatable yn frs, slightly dramatized symptoms of touch-starvation (?), kinda boring plot but idc bc its CUTE AF
quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "finally!!" (she was fed tf up), "stanley is the most stanley man ever. i hate him but i love him.", (more r coming she actually didnt have time 2 read this and i didnt want to wait with posting.)
wordcount: 10.0k
a/n: this story was supposed 2 have more angst, like it was supposed to have this whole misunderstanding, but it just didnt feel right, it made me sad, so instead this is a short n sweet love story xx
Sometimes you think that the loneliness might kill you.
You weren’t always like this. You remember being a sociable, joyful child; half-broken bikes and teddy bears and booster seats. You remember pigtails and popsicle sticks and Power Rangers, and what came after that? Being a moody teenager, became being a moody adult. High school became college, and college became an office job that served to keep you alive, even if it didn’t feel like being alive. College wasn’t that bad, you remember, so at what point had you mistaken isolation for privilege? And at what point had you gone too far into that tunnel-hole to turn back?
You must’ve been cursed, you think, putting on your outfit for work in the deadly still apartment. Dust dares not move, dares not give you hope that you are not alone.
You must’ve been cursed, you think, coming into work to a string of half-hearted, mumbled greetings. Your office is off-white and black and gray and everyone inhabiting it is also off-white and black and gray, and their skin is faintly oily and sickly and their faces are dragging down as if the very earth was reclaiming them and you think that you fit in here better than anywhere else.
You must’ve been cursed, you think, when you spend your day writing emails and organizing documents of information into different formats to send to huge corporations. Sometimes you fantasize about the other end of the transaction. Maybe their office is warm and brown with an accent of blue, and maybe people put hands on each other's shoulders, when they tell one another they’ve done a good job.
Yes, there’s no other explanation, you think, and can’t even muster the energy to feel bad when you blame some old hag from your hometown. You think she must’ve conjured up the worst ingredients, something cartoonishly evil, and a spell befell you, sunk into the crevices of your skin and dug into your pores.
You lie on your couch with a glass of wine and the television going, but you’re not really listening. You don’t think anyone has touched you in six months. You’re not even sure you’re real anymore. You swear, you could live with no one hearing you out, because you’re not sure you’d have anything worthwhile to say, but you just needed someone to touch you. To reach out a hand and confirm, you’re real, you’re right underneath my fingertips, and I’m squeezing your shoulder, and I see you, and I feel you right here.
Sometimes you think that the loneliness might kill you.
Lying physically very still, you still feel like you’re scrambling, fighting the clutch of the curse, and tugging on metal chains. Maybe that’s where all your energy goes.
What do normal people do when they feel this bad?
Sometimes you leave open the window, and when the wind tugs at your door, you pretend it’s someone that came for you.
Tug, tug, tug. The door rattles against its hinges when the fatally empty sky brings to you, in outstretched palms, the wind interlaced with glimmers of hope.
There’s never anyone at the door. _____________________________
This particular day starts like any other. You wake to your alarm and you put on clothes and you get ready and brush your teeth. Then you trample down to the bus stop. The sky is smothered by a duvet of heavy rain clouds. The rain hasn't come yet, but you know it will. Your fingers become stiff and hard, where they adhere to the polyester strap of your bag, massaging it. The bag is cold and dead.
The bus ride is by far the greatest part of your day. It’s quiet - early enough that you’re only accompanied by a few other souls. You rest your head on the window, vibrating gently against the curve of your forehead, and watch the people in the street.
The bus hums a gentle tune and snakes down the streets. Then you’re there, and whatever solace that it offers you under artificial light and mediocre, felted seats is gone.
Your office building is maybe the most depressing place on earth. It’s no glamorous feat of architecture. It is but a large, orange-y, puke-y, brick square, and the building is shared between yours and the Forester company. You don’t talk to the Foresters, but you know they eat cream cheese bagels on their breaks and throw birthday parties and once you saw the branch manager squeezing a salesman’s shoulder and telling him he had done a good job. His fingers squeezed down and the movement of the fabric revealed a shoulder pad built into the suit. You remember thinking it was a shame that it blocked the real touch.
Today, you walk up the stairs with heavy steps and you idle into the office building, eyes cast down to the dirty, gray carpet. You begin the long trek into the back of the building where your desk is located.
“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Tina.
“Morning, Tina,” you mumble back.
“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Gerard.
“Morning, Gerard,” you mumble back.
“Morning.”
“M-”
Wait a minute.
Your greeting falls short. You don’t recognize that voice. Stopping in your tracks, your shoes scratch on the rough carpet, and lift your head to see him.
The first thing you notice is that he’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. He looks like he jumped out of an underwear commercial; he’s all strong jawline, sharp eyes, round glasses on his pretty nose, neatly trimmed, short dark hair stretching down the planes of his face. He’s wearing a button up (usually you wouldn’t even register the clothing your coworkers adorned, but something about how he wore it was noteworthy), a tie draping over the dress shirt, and formal slacks hugging his thighs.
He smiles at you sheepishly, hands nervously smoothing down his thighs.
“I’m Wonwoo” he says curtly, nodding to you. “Just transferred from the Wallingset branch.”
You nod. “Right. Wallingset,” you nod more. “Nice to meet you. I’m Y/n.”
“Nice to meet you too, Y/n.”
Something about your name on his lips makes your heart flutter. It’s pathetic, you know, but his peregrine being in his office chair, spilling your name from his pink lips makes you feel a little more real. You look at him and then you nod again-again, kicking your legs into gear again and walking the last stretch to your desk.
You can see the back of his head from your orange-wood desk. Papers and sticky notes are scattered among the desktop. The monitor watches you accusingly, all big and square and black, waiting for you to open it up and begin working. Your eyes linger on him for a moment. Then you work.
A few hours pass on emails and translating information from a company into a comprehensive sheet. However, today you’re having a hard time focusing on work.
This is not new.
Sometimes you briefly talk to a man at the grocery store, and your mind will wander to him for next week, wondering if he’s thinking about you too, imagining yourself cuddling with him, watching movies, imagining him telling you it’ll all be okay. Sometimes you briefly talk to a man on the street, sometimes it’s even a date, but whatever the case you obsess and you dream and you always end up alone.
Today the victim of your depraved mind is Wonwoo. The guilt is easy to push away. You feel sorry for yourself. You think you deserve this. You think you can’t survive without this. And so you imagine him hugging you, stroking your hair, and you imagine him falling in love with you, and you imagine not being alone. Your fingers rest on your keyboard. It’s old and mechanical. You think it’s from a yard sale, probably an old woman whose children moved away. It’s plastic, and it curves inwards underneath the pads of your fingertips. The keys are cold and dead.
You fully zone out, eyes blearing into the back of his head, but you don’t really see it, your mind has traveled elsewhere. You guiltily imagine his hand between your legs, on your chest, straddling him, kissing him. And it’s not rough, it’s loving, because in this world he loves you, and he’d do anything for you, and you don’t have to be alone again.
You don’t love Wonwoo. It’s not some magical love at first sight, it’s not a romance book, it’s real life. You’re lonely. You need this to survive.
“Hey, Y/n?”
You snap your head up. Maybe you were still daydreaming. But you recognized the voice well and true, and it was Wonwoo, leaned over your desk, hands in his pockets.
“Oh, uhm, hey-” your voice is shaky and you quickly rush to compose yourself, hands moving frantically and uselessly to glide papers over one another and, then, realizing that there was no point to your movements, stilling and looking up at him, cheeks flushed. “Hey.”
Wonwoo smiles gently. “Uh, you know, I was wondering,” he looks around the office, as if surveying the area. “If you knew where to get a good lunch? I don’t know this area at all, so..”
He trails off, looking at you expectantly for an answer. Now that he’s standing before you, it’s much harder to ignore the guilt you feel. You wanna gnaw at your nails until they’re nubs, you want to crawl under your desk and cover your eyes. Does he see how red your cheeks are?
“Uhm- well- I don’t- I eat a packed lunch, so I’m-”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I’m, uh, no expert,” you giggle awkwardly and watch his gentle smile drop into pursed lips. “But! Uh- I hear the- the hot dog stand, uh, just a little down the street is good!”
“Really? Maybe I should try it,” he contemplates, smile returning to his lips. “Would you mind showing me this mysterious hot dog stand?”
“Uh-”
Just seconds before you were thinking of his fingers in your pussy, and his hands caressing you, and him making you feel loved. He’s standing before you and he’s a totally normal guy, and you feel like shit. You feel like shit for using this fake image of him to comfort yourself. You can’t be around him, can’t convince yourself that maybe this’ll turn into something more - not when you always end up alone. Your brows furrow in determination.
“Actually, I have to, uh, get this done, so-” you gesture vaguely to your monitor.
“Right! Yeah,” Wonwoo seems embarrassed, biting his lips and nodding. “It’s, uh, just down the street?”
“Yeah, to the right when you walk out the building.”
“For sure. Thanks,” he doesn’t even look at you then, just waves you off half-heartedly and starts trailing down the office. His shoulders are incredibly broad and his belt wraps tightly around his small waist.
You feel like shit. _____________________________
Why is no one else cursed?
You look out of the window, lying on your bed after work. Everything is very still and unmoving - your whole apartment feels like it’s knotted in strings, tightened until everything is snapped into place, and if you move the wrong muscles, the invisible hands will let go and everything will fly and hurdle through your home, and you can almost hear the sound, like the hard, empty sound of throwing a bowling ball and getting a strike.
No one else is cursed. People crowd the streets with friends, family, partners, and they’re talking and laughing. You rest your head in the windowsill, a lone spectator in the window. The glass cuts you off from the streets.
The afternoon after daydreaming the way you did about Wonwoo is always hard. Your apartment seems intent on suffocating you. Your daydreams serve as a reminder that you’re alone, that you truly have no one, and the act itself is so humiliating, you sulk into a glass of red wine and sometimes you cry. What do normal people do when they feel this bad, you wonder again, sobbing in your bed and spilling wine on your nightie.
Nighttime falls early while you’re crying. You weep on and off, hug your knees, eat a microwave dinner and watch TV, light casting onto your pathetic form on the couch.
And in your most vulnerable state is when you most easily slip into your old habits.
You press an old contact in your phone, one you’d tried to steer away from recently. You wipe mascara from your reddened cheeks, you wear pretty lingerie, and you lie, completely empty, void of any warmth, on your bed, awaiting.
It’s the first time he touches you in months. When his hand finds your shoulder, you shudder terribly. Sorry, he says, and he seems taken aback. Just ignore it, you plead, just ignore it. He does so, unsurely, and every time his hand grazes over your body you shudder and sob and every time he hesitates, asking if you’re okay, you cry at him to continue.
It feels good while it’s happening. Skin beneath your fingertips, hands on you, a face close to yours. You and him are the only thing moving in the apartment, synergizing on your bed, conjoining and writhing, and for just a moment, you don’t feel so alone.
When you’re done the anonymous man stands back up, sliding on his pants in the late hour. He says it was great and you hum. But then he looks around, hesitating on every old piece of furniture, on every photo on the walls, and lastly on you.
“What?” you ask, lying naked in your bed. He grimaces at you, as if signaling that he can’t quite figure it out himself.
“I don’t know,” he says slowly, hands on his newly-clothed hips and surveying the corners of the room, where shadows pool. “It feels haunted in here.”
He leaves.
When the warmth is gone, the bile rises in your throat. Old habits die hard, you think, and you feel totally empty. You couldn’t go on like this. It was nights like these you began to feel like a martyr - sacrificing yourself for a brief escape. Because when the door is closed with a click and you’re alone again, you feel yourself trembling and your heart is glowing red in the empty astral plane. Brief, easy forms of pleasure are often the most harmful.
It feels haunted in here. You remember his words, and before you finally fall asleep, you wonder one thing. You wonder if you’re already dead. _____________________________
The next day is a pain to overcome. You’re slightly hungover, slightly sore, and very uncomfortable. But you comply with your routine, and you enjoy the bus ride, and when you get to the office everyone greets you.
“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Tina.
“Morning, Tina,” you mumble back.
“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Gerard.
“Morning, Gerard,” you mumble back.
“Morning, Y/n,” Wonwoo says. You look up from the carpet carefully, flashing him an apologetic smile. You hope he can read its intention: Sorry about being weird yesterday. You think he got it.
“Morning, Wonwoo.”
And then you’re landing yourself at your own desk and beginning work once more. It’s boring, but today you ward off the daydreams and you focus, and you’re getting an exceptional amount done.
The clock on the wall (off-white, but yellowing near the top) reads 12:28 when your boss, Stan, approaches your table. He’s half bald, and his suit is much too loose, and he has a ladder of wrinkles climbing his larger-than-life forehead.
“Hey, N/n!” he calls, so loud that a couple of heads turn at the commotion. You’ve asked him several times not to call you that.
“Stanley,” you breathe, tapping a stack of papers on your desk to neaten the pile. You wonder if you were in trouble, but if his smile is anything to go by, you’d guess not.
“My favorite woman in accounting!”
“Hehe,” you laugh half-heartedly. You catch the eye of Wonwoo, glancing over his shoulder with a small, teasing smile. You smile back.
“I have a big- oh wait, wait, new guy, uhh, Jeon? Come over here real quick!” Suddenly his solid fingers waft the now scared Wonwoo over. The spectacled man’s shoulders hunch up as he moves off the chair, nodding respectfully. Wonwoo stands beside Stanley at your desk, and you focus your attention on Stanley, hoping to not get too lost in the idea of Wonwoo again - you were doing so good today.
“I have a big job for you, and I thought you could work with Wonwoo on it,” Stan moves his hand up to cup the side of his mouth, as if telling you a big secret, “seeing as he was a bit of a star over in Wallingset.”
Shit. The guy you were daydreaming about was working with you? Wonwoo laughs, embarrassed, but you hardly have time to catch it. You can’t do this. Yesterday you were thinking about him fingering you while looking at you lovingly!
“We have a massive, new client! Just dropped a big competitor of ours, and they want us to do their six month report!” Stanley seems genuinely excited about this, so you can’t help feeling a little guilty that you’ll be a gobbering, slobbering mess, sitting beside Wonwoo on this.
“That’s great-”
“I know! So, my two star members in accountancy, I’ll hand this off to you. The data should be coming into your emails soon,” without letting either of you react, Stanley hunches over, like a coach does before a little-league baseball game, wrapping his arms around both of you and Wonwoo. “You got this, troopers!”
Stanley claps his hands on both of your backs, so hard you jerk forward at the movement, and then he bounces off to the elevator at the far end of the room. You sigh heavily from the interaction. It’s quiet for a moment, while you fiddle with the papers in front of you.
“What a guy,” Wonwoo muses finally, thin fingers resting on the edge of your desk. You giggle, unable to look him in the eye for fear that you might remember how you’d thought about starting a family with him. “Yeah.”
You and Wonwoo settle into an unoccupied meeting room, and it’s all very professional. Markers and post-its, trying to find the best way to structure the report, excel sheets to categorize and overlook data, double check numbers.
However bad you think it’s going to be, you’re wrong. Wonwoo is easy to talk to - he’s quiet, but he’s intelligent, and he understands how to bring on conversation, even when you fold in on yourself like a used napkin.
“Yeah, we used to steal signs from our neighborhood,” Wonwoo admits halfway into a conversation about your hometowns. “I don’t think that’s gonna fly anymore.”
“Why stop now? You’re letting societal rules hold you back,” you joke, and the two of you laugh, and it’s so pathetic, you’re certain you haven’t laughed this much in years, and the conversation has lasted maybe 20 minutes.
“Well, I could show you the craft, you know, it’s a delicate process-”
While Wonwoo talks your phone buzzes and you absent-mindedly pick it up, reviewing the notification.
Your grin drops. Faintly, you hear Wonwoo stop talking. He tilts his head to study the way you frown at the screen. “What’s up?” he asks.
It’s the guy from last night and he’s asking if you’ll be available again tonight.
Maybe it’s how you could almost forget it - how you let yourself into positions that would hurt you, just to feel seen and heard and touched. Maybe it’s the dichotomy of that encounter and now, talking to Wonwoo, and having the laughter steal away the loneliness. But you’re reminded so terribly of your position. You’re reminded that this, too, will end, and that the loneliness will return. You’re reminded that once the shift ends, you’re alone again.
Suddenly you’re a thousand daggers all pointing out. You shield yourself.
“Uh,” you trail off, putting the phone down again. “Just some guy.”
Wonwoo’s eyebrows raise. “Boyfriend?”
“No!” you say quickly. “No, he’s, uh. Just some guy.”
A pause.
“Okay,” Wonwoo says. You don’t even remember where you left off the conversation. You bite your lip because everything is all agony. The table is cold and dead beneath your hand.
“I’m thinking we group these together,” you say, eyes now tuned to your screen and fully submerged back into your work. Work. That was all that could cover your beaten down, cursed self.
The rest of the shift you feel Wonwoo looking at you carefully, as if he’s trying to read you. You don’t talk about yourselves anymore, no more banter, no more witty comments. You structure the report, and try to ignore how his eyes laser you open. You don’t like it. You feel like he can tell you’re a pathetic, lonely woman and that you have nothing and no one. You feel like he can sense the curse upon you.
This would be torture. _____________________________
It is not torture.
The next day, to your surprise, Wonwoo is nowhere to be seen. You wait 5, 10, then 15 minutes in the meeting room you’d camped in, before you begin working on your own. It’s slower without him, but you manage.
You can’t help but slightly worry about him. It feels stupid. You know you’re putting too much emotion into a person you’d known for two days, but you can’t help it. You wonder if he’s gotten hurt or injured, or if maybe he hates you and has transferred back. You think even Excel finds you pathetic.
You sit there for three hours, among the ruins of paperwork and your open laptop, running your hand through your hair and typing in sentences that mean nothing, and the wallpaper is off-white and yellowing at the top, and the blinds are closed to the meeting room.
Around 1 PM the door to the meeting room is opened, wood smacking against the glass that surrounds it, and Wonwoo stands in the doorway, slightly out of breath. You snap your head up to him, like the jerk of a lifeless doll, suddenly interrupted from a very disorganized Excel sheet.
“Hi, shit, sorry,” he gasps, slinging his bag off of his shoulder to sit down next to you.
“Are you okay?” you ask immediately, and Wonwoo nods blindly, pulling his laptop out of his bag. “Yeah,” he says, cheeks slightly flushed and licking his lips. “My cat- my cat needed surgery, she got sick last night, it was an emergency.”
You nod in understanding, “it’s okay-”
You can hardly get the words out before Wonwoo rolls his chair back, wheels resounding hollowly on the floor, so he can look at you clearly. “I’m really sorry about this, it was not nice of me to leave you alone with this.” He gestures vaguely to the scattered papers, and you shake your head.
“It’s okay, Wonwoo, I get it,” you say reassuringly, peering up at him through your lashes. “You don’t need to worry about it. You’re here now.”
Wonwoo seems less intent on personal conversations today - it’s probably because he was so late, and now is trying to make up the time. But it’s okay, in fact you’re somewhat relieved, because it dampens the false hope that blooms in your chest, whenever he asks you about your life.
Even if you and Wonwoo work hard and quietly, you slip into the late hours of the night in an attempt to keep on track for your schedule. Outside the windows that separate you from real life, the sky turns orange, and then dark, muted blue, and stars begin dotting its impressive stretches. People begin to leave around five, and by the time you and Wonwoo finish all your work, you’re the last ones left on your floor of the office.
Wonwoo lets out a loud sigh when he finally finishes the second segment of your report, and the both of you slump back in your seats.
“It’s so fucking late,” Wonwoo limply throws his hand in the direction of the window. You smile a little, looking out. Smaller buildings spawn geometrically from the ground, and every once in a while someone walks by with their dog, spotlighted by the stretch of street lamps that stand outside the parking lot. “I really am sorry about this, you know. Really ruined your night,” he says quietly.
You shake your head. “It’s fine, I had nothing to come home to anyway.”
There’s a pause.
Wonwoo looks at you intensely. Oh shit, you realize, was that too obvious? Was that too pathetic? Has it just clicked that you’re a loser that no one wants? You nervously look back at him, but there’s no malice in his eyes. A totally unreadable expression adorns his features, where he’s leaned back in his leather chair, legs spread invitingly. You look away, feeling dumb.
“At least we followed our schedule!” you say. Wonwoo snorts.
“Yeah, thanks to you. If you hadn’t completed so much before I got here, it would’ve been hopeless.”
Now it’s your turn to scoff, blushing lightly and looking at the linoleum flooring. “I don’t know about tha-”
“Seriously, Y/n, just take the compliment,” Wonwoo reaches a hand over, and you watch its movement.
It’s like time slows down, not like the movies, no, like you can stop time with the heavy weight of your gaze, pinning his muscles in place. But you can’t, and it lands on your shoulder with a soft thud. Fuck. His hand is warm and alive on you.
“You did so well today, I-” Wonwoo cuts himself off, because suddenly you’re trembling.
He feels your body shuddering and jerking under his hand, like the wind rattles your door when you leave it open, and he can’t see your face behind a curtain of hair, but he hears you gasp, and, fuck, you look like you’re sobbing.
The man from last night had become so hesitant when you reacted this way. When your body trembled and shook and when you cried, but Wonwoo seems to understand. He peers at you from above the rims of his glasses, and his hand stays put right there on your shoulder.
“Y/n,” he whispers, so sincere it causes a pathetic squeak to escape you. What must he think of you? The thoughts spiral and you can’t control a single one of them, they dance like freed souls in your head, and you can’t stop the spasming of your muscles, and you know you look so pathetic beside him right. “Y/n, look at me.”
You don’t. You can’t. You can’t because there are tears spilling from the rims of your eyes, and rolling down your cheeks, wet and glossy. Besides, you’re an ugly crier.
“Look at me,” he says seriously, finger tightening on your shoulder. You try to steady your breath and calm your tears, before you obey and begin to turn your chair. The simple motion requires so much effort - it’s like the air has become so thick, that the friction against your leather seat slows you down.
Finally you turn to him, eyes first resting on his knees, then, carefully, traveling up to his face. He’s frowning.
Your face is reddened and your eyes are puffy, your cheeks are shiny and you chew your bottom lip in a futile attempt to keep the tears at bay.
Wonwoo looks genuinely devastated. The hand on your shoulder softens its grasp, then begins petting your arm, rubbing up and down. The action has you choking out gasps, trembling even more in his hold, and Wonwoo feels the need to roll his chair closer to you, so his other hand can grab yours. His thumb rubs over the back of it, and he lowers his head to look at you.
“Shh, relax, relax, Y/n,” he whispers, and you try to nod, but it’s so overwhelming; being touched, being seen, being heard, all at once. For months, maybe years, no one has touched you like this - as if they care. Now the feeling is foreign, so scorching hot on your arm and your hand, your body can’t take it anymore. You’re stuck between wanting to lean into his hands, wanting to feel how real you are, and how physically true your existence is, and wanting to shy away. What must he think of you?
“Y/n,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut to banish the sigh of your sobbing. “When was the last time someone touched you?”
You hiccup painfully. “Uhm- I- I don’t, ” your eyes are bleary and your lashes are wet. Your lip trembles and your whole body shakes when you try to breathe.
Apparently this was enough of an answer for Wonwoo, because he suddenly stands, somewhat harshly tugging you into a standing position too, and pulls you directly into the harbor of his arms.
Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his torso. His chest is pressed flat against yours, so, so warm, when he nudges your head into the crook of his neck, and presses his face against its side, sighing softly into you, and breathing warm air onto your hair. His palms push you into him, soothing your trembling body, and holding you like an anker. One hand travels up to your hair.
“W-Wonwoo, you don’t have to-”
“Shh,” he quiets you immediately, voice the softest wind of a peach tree. “Just let me take care of you.”
You do. Wonwoo holds you until you stop crying, and though it must’ve been twenty minutes or so, it feels like no time at all. Standing in his space, breathing in his dark cologne, and letting his heat thaw your dead heart is a totally timeless act. Joy and serenity flows from the places where your bodies touch. When you stop crying, Wonwoo holds you for longer.
Eventually, he lets you go.
You step back sheepishly, now much calmer and the red in your face faded. You wipe your tired eyes shyly with your sleeve.
“Thank you, Wonwoo,” you mumble, voice thick and garbled. When you look up at him, he smiles softly, although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says softly, arm extending one last time to squeeze your forearm. Then it falls limp again.
“I, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
“Of course.”
When you return home, you’re buzzing. Your entire apartment buzzes along with you, things seem to clatter and beam along with the bright, glowing of your heart. You snuggle into bed and nothing is still and even when you’re drifting into sleep, your nerve endings spin in joyful circles, and your feet are a static hum. Suddenly you are very, very real. _____________________________
You’d think the next day would be tense and awkward, and maybe it is at first, but soon enough you’re talking again, more intimately than before even.
This is Wonwoo’s doing - you know this. You know he’s smart and you know he doesn’t want you to feel bad, so he makes conversation and builds trust between the two of you. You know he hopes you don’t feel insecure. Every word he says and every flick of his eyes is riddled with it.
The conversation decidedly slows down your progress, so Wonwoo once more suggests staying overtime. You look at him for a moment before agreeing.
You can’t tell what his end goal is. A chamber of your heart has been revived and rebirthed, and you’re more chipper, more bouncy, but the rest of your heart insists: you’re still cursed - eventually it’ll go back to how it should be. You listen. You try not to get your hopes up that Wonwoo really cares about you. Why should he, really?
Although when you’re done for the day, about an hour after your usual 5 PM, you stand up and begin to pack your things, laptop sliding into your bag and clustering pens in your hand. It’s gray outside, but the sun comes in a single strand through a gap in the smog and the clouds. The wind hoots by the windows, and it smells like the indian you ordered for lunch together.
You stop your packing, feeling a set of eyes in your back. You twist your head to see him.
Wonwoo is sitting completely still in his chair, slack-covered legs spread open, and he makes no move to collect his own things. He just stares.
“What’s up?” you quip. You’re slightly nervous. Just before it was all silly childhood stories, college and weed and life before the dead-end job. Now Wonwoo has that unreadable expression on his face again.
He slowly lifts his hands from the armrest, eyes locked with yours, and claps his palms on the tops of his thighs.
Your eyebrows furrow.
“Wha-”
“Come here,” he says simply. When you stand completely still, like a deer in the headlights, Wonwoo scoffs and rolls his eyes. “What? You think you’re cured because someone hugged you once?”
“Cured?”
“You’re touch-starved, Y/n,” Wonwoo states matter-of-factly, “you need to be touched.”
“Touch-starved?” you echo, a bewildered expression on your face.
“We can also just hug, like yesterday,” he suggests calmly. You envy his collectedness. “I just don’t want you to feel bad. So please. Come sit.”
To emphasize, Wonwoo pats his thighs again, patiently. You step away from your bag with hesitating steps, pursing your lips. Your cheeks blaze when you look at his thighs again - they’re so long, and the folds in his slacks stretch down and centralize on his crotch and- You’re being a pervert.
“Okay,” you squeak and Wonwoo tuts. Why is that hot, you think, why the hell is that hot?
“We can just hug if you-”
You feel bold.
Without letting him finish, you swing your leg over his, and plop down, straddling halfway down his thighs. You thank God you put pants on this morning instead of a skirt, when you look down at where you rest on top of him.
Wonwoo is a little taken aback, but when you’ve settled on him, his hands find your waist and he looks up at you with a hum. Your breathing is a little shaky. Once again his hands provide a pumping of golden joy into your body, and more of you comes alive and becomes real, and you smile.
What had Wonwoo been talking about? Touch-starved?
“What’s, um-” your question is cut off with a gasp, when Wonwoo uses his hands on your middle to tug you closer. You rest on the highest point of thighs that you can without sitting on his dick. Cheeks red and eyes squeezed shut, you hear how Wonwoo hums, pleased. “What were you talking about? Touch-starved?” you whisper, keeping your eyes shut.
Wonwoo sighs, and once more, like the movement is entirely replayed, his hand finds your hair and pushes your face into the crook of his neck. You sigh against it, enjoying how his arms protect you and hide you from the evil of the world.
“If you don’t touch anyone,” Wonwoo begins, his voice low bass in your ear, “you become touch-starved. That’s why you reacted the way you did yesterday.”
His hands run up and down your sides.
“But- but I’m not crying today,” you say quietly into his neck. Wonwoo hums.
“No, that’s good,” he says. “We can stop if you really want, I just wa-”
“No!” your voice squeaks immediately, and, as if he were running from you, you fist his shirt to keep him close.
“Okay,” there’s a smile in Wonwoo’s voice. You can’t see it but you can imagine it.
Comfortable silence. Wonwoo traces patterns on your back and you breathe deeply against the skin of his neck. The two of you function as one living thing, the only living thing left in the office. Chairs are turned halfway, a couple lights are left on. The desks betray the past presence of humans.
“Wonwoo,” you pip.
“Mhm?”
“You don’t have to do this, you know? I don’t want you to do it if you- if it’s just.. Pity.”
Wonwoo sighs, and you feel the way his torso deflates underneath you. He trails his hand up from your back to tap your cheek. You move back and look at him.
Your faces are very close, you can feel how your exhales collide and then scatter, hell, you think you could count each of his eyelashes from here.
“I already told you. I’m doing this because I don’t want you to feel bad. I-” he hesitates for a moment, pursing his lips. “I’ve been there. So I know what it’s like.”
The thought of Wonwoo feeling like this, like you, is sickening. Genuinely sickening, you feel your insides turn to rot and mold and you frown so deeply, you think your lips might forever lock in that position.
“I’m okay now,” he reassures, reading you immediately. His hand finds your cheek and he almost cries out at the way you lean into it blindly.
“How did you-.. I- I always thought it was, like, a lifelong curse,” you say.
“A curse?” Wonwoo grins, thumb stroking over the skin of your cheek. It makes you happy, it makes you feel like your heart will burst.
“Yeah. I guess I just blamed some old woman from my hometown,” you giggle, blushing a little because, yes, it did sound stupid when you weren’t just echoing the theory to yourself, like playing a team sport alone.
“You’re not cursed,” Wonwoo promises, tucking your head into his chest. “I’ll help you, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you from now on.”
He does take care of you.
Every day you work overtime, and every day when you’re done with work, Wonwoo slides you into his lap and holds you, while you curl up in his chest. Then you talk and you laugh, and you listen to each other's music. His hands run warm up your back and in your hair and on your hips, gentle caresses, deeply intimate. For two weeks you and Wonwoo indulge in this nighttime ritual.
You have not felt lonely since that night. And Wonwoo can tell. Your skin is warmer and brighter, you smile wider, your eyes twinkle, and there’s energy in every movement. Your body thaws under his warm hands every night, and sometimes when you smile, he gets so happy he could kiss you.
You realize you like Wonwoo one particular night when you’re falling asleep in your bed and you can still feel the ghost of his arms around you and it lulls you into a deep, dreamless sleep, and when you wake up you smell a little bit like his cologne. That’s how you realize. You like how considerate and how gentle he is, you like how sweet he is to you, you like how he looks when he smiles and when he laughs and you like how much he loves his cat. You like how his arms feel wrapped around you.
And you like him, and suddenly your apartment is a song that you dance in, and every photo on your walls is smiling and your bed is always warm and so is your heart.
There’s nothing dead in here, you think, when you cook a delicious meal on the stovetop, sauce bubbling in a stainless steel pan. Nothing haunted about your home or your heart. _____________________________
“We’re almost done.”
“Mhm.”
“I can’t believe we’re almost done!”
Wonwoo looks up, bemused, lips made small and pointed. You’re staring at the almost-done document, scrolling up and down through long and arduous paragraphs. It’s nighttime again - not that you had to stay late today, it was a choice - and the city glimmers brilliantly in the coolness. You and Wonwoo wear sweaters to keep warm.
“Feels like a lifetime,” Wonwoo murmurs, same smile upon his beautiful face. His cheekbones point out from beneath his skin.
“Yeah,” you breathe, leaning back. You won’t put your fingers back on the keyboard. Not when it could be done so soon. You look at him, all snuggled up in a brown sweater. “What if..”
A pause. He tilts his head.
“Well, are we still gonna talk?” you chew your lip dejectedly, feeling a little sad and desperate, but Wonwoo only laughs. It’s a beautiful sound, it’s one you associate with joy.
“Of course,” he says, as his laughter quiets down. “If you want to.”
A shy smile forms on your lips. You turn to look back at the computer, but you hear the now-familiar sound of Wonwoo patting his thighs. You flit your eyes back to him, teasingly scolding.
“We’re not done.”
“We don’t have to be done now,” he shrugs, an equally teasing smile on his lips. You roll your eyes, but, unsurprisingly, you shift over to him, sitting down in his lap. He immediately tugs you closer, fingers searching for stimulation on the seams of your jeans. There’s something different about Wonwoo today, you realize, his touch is more feverish, his fingers dig deeper into the fat of your hips and he looks up at you like you’re a diamond-encrusted chandelier, hanging from the ceiling, all glittering jewels.
“What’s up?” you giggle nervously. It’s becoming hard to breathe with the way he paws at your hips.
There’s something in the air between you, but maybe you’re imagining it. Maybe it’s your mind playing tricks on you, concocting the magnetic pull that lingers between you, the thicker, heavier air, that urges you closer.
He sighs heavily, as if he was dreading this. All of a sudden composed, cool, icy Wonwoo is chewing his lip and avoiding your eyes, looking instead down where your fat gives way for his needy fingers.
“I, uh, I really like you, Y/n,” his voice shakes. “Would you. Maybe. Want to go out some time?”
At the last syllable his gaze locks on to yours, and you watch him visibly relax, because you’re fucking grinning.
Not maliciously, not crudely, not a dime or a dab of evil, only genuine joy.
“I-I would like that,” you control your smile, pointing your lips in the same way that Wonwoo does and blushing all over. Wonwoo grins too and it’s unbearably boyish.
“Okay,” he says, as if he can’t believe it. “Okay. Great.”
The window slams shut, the spell is undone by his hand, the dead defy their only law to bow to his necromancy. Wonwoo is alive and warm underneath you, and you are alive and warm on top of him, thighs pushed up against his and tugging at the fabric of his shirt. Your balloon of heart pops in your chest, and the bone-cage of your chest is filled with helium, that has you floating. Rosy and shiny, your heart beats at twice its normal speed.
There’s a lull in the conversation. It would’ve been a more comfortable silence, if you couldn’t see by how Wonwoo looks down and purses his lips, that he’s itching to say more.
Sparked by his confession, you confidently snake your hand up to tap his cheek lazily. He turns to you with a loafy smile. “What is it?”
He breathes out unsteadily.
“You’re-” he closes his eyes. “There’s so much I like about you. It- It makes me feel really bad that you weren’t feeling well, so I-”
He cringes at himself, one hand pushing away his glasses to rub the eyes underneath them.
“Can I make you feel better?” he asks vaguely.
You huff out a laugh. “Are you trying to ask if I want to have sex?”
He laughs too, behind his big hand. “No. It’s not the same, I want it to be about you!”
You laugh more, and Wonwoo’s face reappears as he lowers his hand. He looks up at you adoringly, dotingly. He’s smiling.
“I’m being serious,” he says quietly, when you finish. He seems less embarrassed now, more so smug. “I want to make you feel good.”
He’s paying an awful lot of attention to your hips, which he has not let up massaging and squeezing roughly.
“Can I..?” he begins, eyes fixed on your hips in his lap. “Can I make you cum?”
Then, slowly, Wonwoo lifts his hands and gently places them around on your face. His touch is always as soft as a hope-laced wind. He’s warm and he’s alive and he’s holding onto you, and you see it in his eyes: you’re real, you’re right underneath my fingertips.
“Please.”
That’s all he needs, before he presses his lips against yours.
The kiss is everything you want it to be; because it’s loving. It’s slow, it’s deep, it’s gentle, there’s no tongue, just the soft, warm, real, alive flows of his lips against your own. His hands on both of your cheeks caress your cheekbones gently, and warm air is spilled in the small space between you. He pulls away, panting.
“I don’t understand it,” he mumbles, before he’s pressing his lips back to yours hungrily. You let out a confused hum, and you have to gently push at his shoulder to back him off again. “What do you mean?” you ask.
“Why you were so alone,” he breathes, transfixed on your lips. “I want to be with you all the time.”
Before you can respond, Wonwoo grips the underside of your thighs, lifting you and himself from the chair and placing you on the desk. You gasp at the impact when the glass table meets your bottom, and Wonwoo is standing over you, suddenly so tall and so broad, and slimming at the waist. His narrow eyes become hooded behind the reflection of his glasses. His head is tilted down to meet yours.
“Can I take off your clothes, pretty?”
You don’t answer, only grip the edge of your shirt, tugging it over your head, so your bra-clad chest is exposed to him. He groans at the sight.
“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles, nimble fingers dancing across your back to unclip the bra, sucking in a harsh breath the fabric becomes loose, sliding down your arms. “Such a pretty girl.”
“Stop,” you whisper, face warm and red. Your heart has never beat this way. It’s utterly unbearable and addicting at the same time, it’s without rhythm or class, it’s wild. And it’s because he’s looking at you and it’s not just lust. It’s adoration. There are deeper strings to the make-up of his eyes, there are lines connected to his heart, and he’s all flushed.
“What?” he asks. “I’m just telling you the truth.”
Wonwoo throws your bra on the floor next to him, hands finding the hem of your pants. “Can I take your pants off?”
You nod, still so shy and abashed, because Wonwoo’s eyes feel like a pink spotlight, and you are bathed in its warmth. He unbuttons your pants and you gently slide off the table to work them off your legs.
“Your panties are cute,” Wonwoo remarks (it should feel lewd, but he has a hand on your hip, that brushes the bone and he smiles at it). “Thank you,” you breathe, before you’re taking them off too.
Wonwoo doesn’t need to, but he still insists on gently lifting you back onto the table, and he kisses your nose when you’re sitting before him. He’s standing in between your legs, and then he’s looking down at where wetness drips onto the glass table.
His hand slides down your stomach, resting on the fat of it. He’s smiling, he’s so gorgeous, because he’s smiling the most gentle smile at how wet you are and how it leaks onto the table and his hand is so warm on your stomach, doing nothing, yet turning you on even more than you’d ever been before.
He sighs like he’s carrying the greatest burden on his broad back. “You’re so pretty,” he says, almost exasperated by it. He pinches some of the fat of your stomach between his fingers lovingly. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this.”
Then the hand on your stomach slides down further. His large, veiny hand cups your pussy, the tips of his fingers just barely teasing your hole. You whimper against him, hands finding his biceps for support. Wonwoo studies you, craning his neck down to peer at your face, while his fingers begin swaddling your folds.
“You’re so wet, baby,” he mumbles, trying to catch your eye where you bury into his chest. One finger dips into your hole, penetrating slowly and settling knuckle-deep.
“Wonnie!” you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut.
“Mmm, clenching down on Wonnie’s finger so hard. My beautiful girl.”
He begins pushing his finger in and out of you, pace slow and torturous. His other hand slides up and down your body, squeezing your waist then your thigh, then coming right back up to fondle your chest. He pushes your back flat against the glass, so you’re all splayed out for him and you watch him from there, eyes hooded and legs spread to accommodate him. He breathes in shakily at the sight of you.
“Shit, Y/n. What were you doing hiding all this from me?” His finger picks up the pace, as another finger slips in alongside it. You’re moaning and panting, lips red and hair mussed, unable to focus on his words, when his fingers curl against that spongy spot inside you. Apparently Wonwoo expects an answer though, because he speaks again, voice lower and rougher. “Hm? You didn’t want to go have lunch? What, was it that guy?”
“W-What?”
“Just some guy,” Wonwoo echoes your past words, emphasizing with a harsh thrust of his fingers.
“N-No, I- Hng!” you cry out, when Wonwoo’s thumb presses onto your clit. He rubs it torturously. “I-I was embarrassed because I- I was thinking about you!”
“Oh?” this catches Wonwoo’s attention, as he diligently works his hand within you, staring down at your naked form, fully clothed and tall. “Tell me what you were thinking about, baby.”
“This!” you cry out, too high off the pleasure to really feel embarrassed about it.
“Pretty, sweet, dumb baby. You were thinking about you whimpering and writhing while I fuck you with my hand, hm?”
“N-No,” you mumble, cheeks aflame. “W-Was thinking about you l-liking me.”
At this Wonwoo hastily leans over you, pressing his lips onto yours again, and this time his tongue pries open your mouth, wet and warm in the cavern of your mouth. You moan into the kiss, hips canting into his hand. There’s something so desperate about him then, something so eager in the way he crooks his fingers, and how he kisses you, panting and covering your face in warm air. You feel a tight knot in your stomach.
“Cum on my fingers, please, pretty, sweet, baby, darling,” he mumbles into your mouth, rushing out the words before he’s sealing your lips again.
“God, I think I might fall in love with you.”
That makes you cum. You cum so fucking hard, clenching around his fingers like an air-tight seal, and your cum spills onto his fingers and his name spills into his mouth. The curse comes out with it, escaping like the air that spills out from an ancient, rediscovered chamber, and dissipating into the night. Your heart is beating and you’re breathing into his mouth, nose brushing his.
“Good girl,” he breathes, finally releasing your lips and letting his lips fall heavy and wet on your cheek.
He pulls out his fingers, unbearably wet and slick, and you think for a second that he’ll let you calm down and then maybe he’ll put his dick in you, but as soon as the fingers are out of you, they’re settling back on to your clit, rubbing heavy-handed circles.
You whine, arching your back off the table and wiggling your hips at the overstimulation. His other hand catches your hip and he shushes your cries softly.
“You can cum again, can’t you, baby? You can take it,” he says, so nonchalantly, while his slick fingers rub you. You cry out. Your legs are shaking. “Think you can cum again from just this?”
“Y-Yes,” you sigh and when you look down, his entire hand covers your pussy, as he pets your clit in circles. He smiles at your words, pinching your clit teasingly. It causes a squeak to escape you, hips struggling against his hold, where he pins you to the table.
“Good girl,” he praises, purring. “Letting me use your pretty pussy like this, letting me make you feel good.”
His body in front of you prevents your legs from closing, but, God, do they try, knees pinching his thin waist, and hair bunching up on the glass when your face scrunches up in pleasure.
“A-a-ah!” you cry out. Your hips involuntarily begin to inch away from him, but Wonwoo pulls you back with one strong hand, tutting.
“Don’t do that,” he mutters, pouting. “You need to be touched, remember?”
The whole thing is so heart-achingly intimate. The way he stands, still fully clothed and with a huge fucking tent in his pants, simply rubbing your pussy and looking at you with heart-eyes. Seriously, eyes swimming with adoration for you, teasing words slipping from his mouth unable to mask the genuine wonder he feels, at how you gasp and you arch and you clean and you jerk from the simplest of his movements. And your pussy is so warm and wet under his hand, and his body between your legs is so warm, and you cum again from just that; from how much love he looks at you with, and from the fingers crooking to pinch your clit again, wet and swollen underneath his glistening fingertips.
“W-Wonwoo!” you cry out, cumming again, and your body convulses around his, when it oozes out of your hole. Wonwoo’s fingers gently work you through it. His gaze on you is so intent, so careful and insistent, you can’t bear it, the way he sees you totally lost in the pleasure he brings you.
“There you go,” he whispers gently, fingers letting up and disappearing from your pulsating pussy.
“Wonwoo,” you mewl tiredly, pushing yourself onto your elbows to look up at him. He looks at you, so sweetly, so attentively, hands immediately finding your back to stabilize you. “Can I please have your cock now?”
“We don’t have to-”
“I want to!” you interrupt him, brows furrowed and lips in a pout. Wonwoo grins at that and though he may deny it, you don’t miss the red that twinges his cheeks.
“It’s just if you were too tired..-”
“I’m not,” you say decidedly, and Wonwoo nods.
“Okay. C’mere then.”
You’re confused when Wonwoo sits back down in the office chair, fingers working his slacks open. He doesn’t answer to your grimace though, only manages his pants unzipped and in one lift of his hips, peel both them and his boxers down.
His cock springs free, and your confused grimace is replaced with one of awe. It’s pale and veiny, the head is red and thin, white liquid oozes from it, like melted candle wax. And it’s huge.
You’re too slow to mask your amazement, it seems, because when your eyes return to his face, he’s already looking at you, smiling smugly.
“Come ride me, baby.”
You don’t need to be told twice. You slide off the table eagerly, lumbering over to where he’s relaxed against the back of the chair. He looks up at you, all naked and pretty, with a grin.
The top buttons of his dress shirt are unbuttoned, but he must’ve given up halfway. Either way, the milky plates of his chest are exposed, shining gloriously in the warm office light, and he discards his glasses, face fully exposed to you. He’s beautiful, and you think to tell him.
“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, planting each leg around his, so you’re straddling him. Like your ritual, Wonwoo grips your middle and pulls you closer, but this time it’s even closer than normal. Your stomach meets his dick, all heavy and hot on your skin, and your breath hitches at the sensation.
“You’re beautiful,” he teases, looking up at you. You smile.
“Can I put it in?” you ask.
“As if the answer was ever gonna be no?”
You snort out a laugh, raising yourself by your thighs and gripping the base of his dick to steer him inside. He hisses at the feeling of your hand grappling with his impressive size, and he hisses once more when the head of his cock buries into your heat.
His hands on your waist anchor himself while you slowly sink down, until he’s so fully sheathed in you, you think the tip of his cock must be brushing your heart, because it feels like it’s swinging in your chest.
“You’re so big,” you whimper, clutching his broad shoulders, and scrunching the fabric on top of them.
“Don’t say shit like that, I’m gonna cum, babe,” he grits out, fingers bruising your waist. You mewl, clutching his shirt. Then you begin to bounce.
Your thighs flex on either side of him as you heave up and down his cock, the both of you gasping into each other, and clutching each other for stability.
“Shit,” he pants out, genuinely out of breath. “Fuck, you’re the loveliest girl in the world.”
You cry out, pressure already welling in your stomach and burying yourself in his neck like you’ve always done, and it’s so intimate and he’s warm, and, fuck, he wants you. You can feel it in his grip, in his cock, in his words; he wants you more than anything. The thought makes you wanna cum.
Wonwoo is not quiet at all. He grunts and whines and his words are strangled and garbled, but frequent, showering you in affection and praise, while you bounce eagerly on his huge cock.
“You’re so pretty, baby.”
“Your tits are so perfect, shit.”
“Pretty girl.”
“Loveliest, prettiest, sweetest girl, bouncing on my cock, fuck.”
Praises spill from his lips in purrs, one after another, and when you cum you can’t help but return it tenfold.
“Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonnie, fuck! Gonna- fucking cum, I think I’m- f-falling in love with you”
You and Wonwoo come alive. Cum spurts from his cock and into your pussy, and you both cry out, entangled and completing one another in the space where you meet.
And it’s true, falling in love with him is so easy. And falling in love with you is easy too, you realize, because the second he’s spilled his cum in you, he pulls you from his neck to kiss you so deeply, so thoroughly, you think your lips might never unpuff from his hasty, bitten kisses.
His cock, now soft, still inside you, his warm chest against yours, his nose nudging yours, his eyelashes fluttering against your skin, the kiss is totally perfect, and you’re warm, and the windows are all closed and fogged up and there’s no curse other than the most fatal and most perfectly tantalizing of them all: love.
You are not alone. You’re sitting in his lap and you think if you give it a day or two more, you might want to spend the rest of your life with him.
You catch your breaths.
“You’re really good at that,” you say finally. He grins again, perfectly undone, hair tousled and cheeks flushed. “Yeah?” he asks. You hum.
After some minutes of keeping him inside you, kissing lazily, running your hands over his pretty chest and arms, you pull back, beginning to flex your legs to pull him out of you.
“What are you doing?” he asks, hands wafting to still your movements. You furrow your brows, confused.
“Am getting your dick out of me?”
His hands sink down on your hips heavily, fully encompassing his dick again. You sigh at the feeling.
“Don’t do that, silly. You’re touch-starved, remember?”
He tilts his head teasingly.
“So why don’t you just sit snug on my cock, so you can get all the closeness you need?”
#jeon wonwoo x reader#smut#wonwoo smut#jeon wonwoo smut#svt smut#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#seventeen smut#svt angst#wonwoo angst#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x you
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Ooh okay I apologize in advance for rambling but how about a yandere and a darling who are both trained fighters of some sort. Always at each other's throats, evenly matched. Despite the yandere's flirtatious behavior during fights, the darling doesn't put much stock in it because some people are just... like that lol. But they finally lose. Collapsed on the ground, arms and fingers twitching as they try to muster the energy to grab their weapon. They think they might be about to die, but the yan is absolutely giddy with excitement, telling them how well they did, how much fun they've been having and not to feel bad. They'll take care of them until they get better- and maybe they'll even let them fight again if they're good while they recover.


Thanks for the cute idea! I hope I was able to convey it like you were thinking ♥
»»———————— ♡ ————————««
Not everyone has the chance in life to call someone else their "arch-nemesis". But you did. That jerk that was always on your butt, chasing after your achievements as if it was an Olympic sport. If you did great on an assignment, so did he. If you did extra reps while training, he had to do them twice as much. You wanted to spar? He'd be the one volunteering to be your training partner.
He was insufferable.
With that bright, goofy smile and the happy hops he did after being chosen as your sparing partner (not your fault you were too good so that most of the other people in the unit didn't want to try fighting you), he was absolutely obnoxious. He was swift on his feet, that much you had to give him, but his swings were too wide, easily to avoid. And you, stupidly nice as you were, told him that many times, and he still didn't learn. He was your personal pain in the asshole, and you sighed in frustration as you watched him plummet to the ground after you swept his leg.
Only for him to recover quickly and bring you down, too.
In a matter of seconds, your enemy was on top of you, holding you down and rendering you immobile. You struggled, groaning from the strain when you managed to free your foot, kicking your leg up and into his stomach. Just as quickly as he had, you had rolled both of you over, straddling him down. However, in stark contrast to him, you learned from your mistake, applying all the right weight to hold down all his limbs.
You two were breathing heavily when you noticed the otherwise silent gym. Only the hand-to-hand combat mat was still lit up, everything else already in the dark. You couldn't spend too much thought on it as your enemy kept struggling, trying to free himself before he finally breathed out the tension of his body, groaning, "I give up!"
Immediately, you got off him, standing back up and wiping the sweat from your face. Both of you needed a minute to calm your pulse, and you noticed that you had been right; everybody had left you two. Wasn't it too early for them to stop their training, though? The clock on the wall revealed the time to already be late in the night, and you groaned inwardly, realizing you had spent all evening again with that jerk.
He really brought out the worst traits in you.
"Ah, fuck," you mumbled, remembering the fresh ingredients you had bought to make for dinner tonight. Another spoiled meal just because you had to wrestle with that idiot.
"That was awesome!" he cheered behind you, still lying on the ground, staring straight into the ceiling light above him. "Nothing can beat our fight! You are so amazing!"
With that, he rolled to the side, propping his head on his hand as he grinned at you, eyebrows wiggling. "Imagine how good the sex would be."
With a disgusted sound, you rolled your eyes, knowing about his repertoire of dirty and inappropriate jokes much too well. There was no rule against peer relationships, but even if you had to, he would be the last you'd choose as a partner. "I'll pass," you snarked, and he laughed loudly as if you had just told a funny joke.
"Come on, let's do one more round!" your enemy prompted, jumping up from the mat and bouncing over to you like a ball. He was just like that, so full of energy and life, no matter how many times you threw him down. You two never had to work on an assignment together before. Still, you couldn't imagine him taking anything seriously or putting actual work into what he was assigned to do with his attitude.
But it was already late, and instead of a lavish meal, you'd probably just have some instant noodles instead. Might as well try to break his ego once more. "Okay," you agreed, fastening the straps of your gloves again.
"Yippih!" he exclaimed, and if you weren't so done with the dude, it was almost adorable how excited he was. You got caught up in his carefree demeanor momentarily when he suddenly threw a punch you barely dodged. You hadn't seen it coming at all, perplexed for a moment that he could pull off something like that.
"Did that surprise you? I trained just for you! Just so I could beat you!"
"You psycho," you chided him, but your heart beat wildly after the unexpected blow. You could still feel the rubber burn on your skin where it had connected with his gloved hand, making you gulp.
"Hah! Try dodging this!"
What followed was a serious showdown of skill, every punch harder to dodge and block than the one before. You still felt powerful enough to win this fight, but you had never noticed this skill in him before. He fought like a kangaroo but lighter on his feet, avoiding the few stray punches you sent his way easily. Had he waited for a chance to show off? What made this day so special?
You two rang for the upper hand in this—supposedly training—fight, but you slowly realized that without a real chance to counterattack, none of your skills would help you. Your enemy didn't fall for the classical sweep with the leg and didn't stay still long enough to keep himself open for a hit in the stomach, followed by a flurry of punches to bring him down. For the first time since you two met, you felt actually threatened by him as an opponent.
Before, you had mostly ignored him. His overeager attitude, continuous unwanted flirting, and the way he tried to insert himself into your life almost desperately. He wanted to be noticed by you, so you didn't give him the time of day until you two had passed your training and had to deal with each other, no matter what you thought about him. But it got annoying quickly, and your spats became the entertainment for the whole unit. You didn't mind shutting him up in a match, but somehow, this one was different than all the other fights you had before.
You had never lost a fight before until that night.
Your head hit the mat with more force than you ever thought possible. It actually made you blackout for a moment. Luckily, you came to quickly, only to be confronted by the pain and dizziness you felt. But there was no time to regain your composure as a hand hit the mat right next to your face, and you heard the cracking of bones as the air hit you like a much more gentle punch.
"I won," he panted, the smile slowly spreading wider and wider on his face as he hovered above you. "I finally did it!"
"Get over yourself," you heaved dryly, your lungs utterly void of air. More and more pains erupted in your body, on the outside of your forearms, face, shoulder, and hips. You groaned as your muscles spasmed, drawing in to relieve the pain. But in doing so, they caused another body part to hurt, and an endless cycle of bruises and wounds occurred.
But the second his palm cupped your face, you stilled, his thumb brushing your lower lip.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered as if he was afraid that a loud sound would shatter you. "Your lips swollen like that, all because of me."
Your enemy giggled, and you felt appalled by the gleam in his eyes as he watched you flinch from his touch. Something was seriously wrong with that fellow, you had always known it. "Just get off," you complained, turning your head away and struggling to get up with your bashed body.
"Might want to have a look at your hand, too. That crack didn't sound healthy."
However, his hand quickly grabbed your shoulder, pushing you back down with much more strength than required. For what felt like a small eternity condensed in a few seconds, you two stared motionlessly at each other. You, trying to understand something about him which was nearly impossible. And he, interpreting this situation much differently than you.
Because the next thing you knew, his lips crushed yours, enticing a pained howl to erupt from your throat and crashing into his mouth. Lips open, he pushed his tongue in, a suffocating feeling as it roamed around, spit mingling. Finally, you had enough, forcing your body to obey as you grabbed him by the shirt, pushing him back and away from you.
"What is wrong with you!" you gasped, disgusted by the kiss you had just been assaulted with.
"That was so much fun, oh my god," your enemy merely replied, not even honoring you with an answer. "You're such a good fighter, I can't believe I finally won! Isn't that feeling amazing? My heart is racing! How about yours?"
"No!" you declared firmly, struggling against him as you tried to get out from under his body. It was a tangled mess of limbs, your struggles continuously bouncing back as he wanted to keep you as you were. You really didn't understand him, resorting to a tirade of insults as he canceled out your efforts.
"Look at you go! You still have so much energy even after our sparring. As if it was nothing for you! I know you were the one for me! The only one who can keep me on my toes! It's always been you!"
"I'm not yours! Get off me, you freak!"
"Well, ouch. That's enough."
Your breath was caught in your throat as your head hit the mat again for the second time that night. For the very first time when fighting him, however, you felt a hint of panic as he applied more and more strength to your wrists, pinning you down. Just minutes before, you had been able to slip out easily, making him lose in a matter of milliseconds. But this time, his grip and position were iron-tight, leaving no room for a surprise to overtake him.
"You're already hurt enough, baby. We can have another go once you recover."
"If you could just get off me, I could take care of my wounds myself, baby," you spat right back in his face. But instead of noticing the sarcasm in your voice, he only grinned wider, shaking his head as he laughed softly.
"Now, why would you do that? That's what you have me for. I'll make sure you get taken care of. Gonna patch you up real good, my little fighter."
"He- Hey!" you protested as he suddenly stood up, too quickly for you to react. Next thing you knew, you, too, were back on your feet and lifted into the air, slung over your enemy's shoulder. He had pulled you up so swiftly that not even the air could give any resistance, but you two needed a moment to balance it out before you were right back to kicking and punching him.
"Now, be good," he warned you before a slap on your butt made you stop all movements, too surprised and shocked that he'd dare to make such an inappropriate gesture with you.
"We can see if you get to fight again once you're fully healed. Until then, you got to be good for me, alright?"
"We'll do no such thing! Who do you think you are--"
"It's not about me," your enemy suddenly revealed, and you raised a brow, looking at the back of his head with more questions that were left unanswered than you wanted them to. Everything about this was wrong; what the hell happened to him that night? Did you push the wrong buttons for once? But that still didn't explain his behavior in the slightest.
"It never has."
"Then what is it about?" you asked, trying to kick him again, only for your leg to be captured by his free hand, thigh pressing against his chest while his palm massaged the tense muscles on the back. He was completely out of his mind if he thought he could just take you as a prize for winning one puny training match! As if you needed him to patch up the wounds he inflicted! That was definitely not the kind of relationship you two had, one where he could disregard every bit of manners he had and do what he wanted!
"You," he replied firmly, his voice unwavering.
"It has always been about you."
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#yandere x you#yandere tw#yandere fanfiction#yandere scenarios#yandere headcanons#yandere drabbles#yandere oneshot#yandere stories#yandere writing#yandere imagines
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Mercs Wearing Lingerie For The First Time
Words: 943
Request: I saw you were taking requests again. Can I suggest the mercs buying lingerie and being nervous about wearing it for their s/o? If not all then maybe Soldier, Sniper and Engineer
Threw in a extra spy for ya!!
I’m sorry but I feel like this man would have absolutely no shame wearing lingerie for his s/o.
There are only a few minor problems, with the main one being; is there any in teufort that will actually fit him?
But once he does find one (Thats red, blue and/or white) he’s ready, taking a little bit of time to set up.
And set up is being real vague honestly. He just changes and stands in the room while calling you over. (Might even come out searching for you)
***
“Solly, what did yo– oh…” Feeling all your blood rush to your face, and in another direction too. “That’s what you called me for.” Making sure the door was shut and locked behind you before walking closer, getting a closer look and feel.
It was a surprisingly nice material, red, white and blue with matching lace. Yeah, this wasn’t lasting long at all. “You did well in battle this week Cupcake, so I got you a reward! Now c’mon, show me you deserve this!”
He knows just a bit more than the above mentioned two, but it’s definitely not by much.
Is roughly in the middle when it comes to shame, isnt that embarrassed but you can tell he is to some degree.
Likely heard Scout talking about it, then decided, for some reason, to get one. He would’ve stopped if he didnt’ feel awkward leaving the store with nothing, so he put a little thought into it.
Would never live this down if anyone knew, so he swears you to secrecy about this. (Would never do this again if you did, but why would you ever do that?)
***
“Yeah yeah Scout, why don’t you go wait for Miss Pauling, she’s meant to come around later.” Very quickly he ran off, letting you continue on where you were going. Wait a second, where were you going?
Thrown out of your thoughts by a familar red laser on the wall in front of you. Knowing that it only came from two guns out here, and only one was able to get this close. Turning to find it was Mick sitting on top of his van, going inside when you started heading over.
“Hey Mick,” Luckily it was you coming over, and that no one wanted to see him or come over with you. “What did ya ne–” Pausing when you noticed a pair of pants dropped on the floor, looking over to see him taking ogg his jacket. Revealing the lingerie underneath.
Blush covering his face and shoulders, “Don’t keep staring Roo.” He didn’t like that, he did this so do something damn it.
God forbid this man doesn’t have a heart attack just looking at it.
He never really thought about lingerie, so he doesn’t put a lot of thought into choosing one, just as long as it fits him then he’s good.
Barely even looks at it before putting it on, but when he does he’ll just kinda stand in the mirror for a good while. Turns out it isnt as bad as he thought but still embarrassing.
Makes sure to have you come over to his workshop when everyone else is asleep, doesn’t want to risk anyone knowing of this.
***
It seemed like hours had passed with Dell just looking at himself in the mirror, while he wasn’t denying the fact the lingerie was cute. It wasn’t really him, but what would be for a merciless mercenary?
Jumping when someone knocked at the door, almost reaching for a nearby jacket and sweatpants. “Hey, uh Dell, you said you wanted to meet me here?” Letting out a breath at your voice, “Give me a minute Darl,” Unlocking the door and standing behind it as you entered, making sure it locked again.
“Was something wrong…” Words trailing off when you looked at Dell, it was almost too much but you knew it was the fact this was new. Having to look away for a few seconds before looking back, taking in everything this time.
How the garters connected the main pieces. The tighter pieces letting fat spill over, especially on his thighs. His hands tugged at the main bodice under your gaze, you couldn’t let him feel uncomfortable or as if you didn’t like this.
Replacing his hands with your own, guiding them under his waistband. “You look so pretty, can I unwrap my present now, please?” “Darlin’ c’mon now, why would I make you wait?”
This man has multiple pieces in his closet and in other storage places, I absolutely cannot be convinced otherwise.
Definitely wore some for missions in his earlier years (And still does occassionally) so he knows that they fit perfectly.
Finds your favourite by a series of questions (Which he doesn’t need to ask most of the time, he just knows you) based on your favourite colour, texture etc.
My man prepares everything perfectly, especially if it's your first time seeing him in it, candles are lit, vintage wine is poured.
***
You didn’t care how awkward this would look to anyone else, cause why would they ever see this?
Your hands roamed over the lingerie sitting flush against Spy’s body, he made sure to get the best as he wouldn’t willingly wear anything less. “Are you enjoying yourself ma chérie?” Too distracted to answer, he just laughed.
Smoothing over anything you could, feeling the different types of lace and materials used. Ribbons holding the back closed, clasps on the garters holding up the tights. They were a light [favourite colour] with matching metal and a darker robe. “No need to answer me, then, I see you are.”
#tf2 x reader#tf2 soldier#tf2 soldier x reader#soldier x reader#tf2 sniper#tf2 sniper x reader#sniper x reader#tf2 engineer#tf2 engineer x reader#engineer x reader#tf2 spy#tf2 spy x reader#spy x reader#wisteria♥
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Yandere Vixen/Mari McCabe x Fem! Reader
Author's Note: MY WIFEEEE. I lied ya'll, Mari was actually my first female hero love. This scene of her and the one where she's staring at John when he aims his ring at her changed my brain chemistry.
Warning: Suggestive themes/mentions of sex/yandere behavior obviously.
- Mari would be such a charismatic yandere, she knows how to hide her fangs from her pretty little darling so she doesn't accidentally scare them off. In fact, she'd be really hard to pin down as a yandere because she'd already have her darling wrapped around her finger completely with just her charm, wit, and beauty alone.
- I don't really see her as being a jealous yandere because, like, she's a successful business woman and famous model. Not in a conceited or arrogant way but she knows her darling puts her on a pedestal, so she can only laugh when others dare to try and sway her darling away from her. However she is protective of what's hers. Territorial. She won't outright kill people because being so renowned comes with its limitations but in general, her moral compass (although corrupt) could never allow her to do so. Scaring them off with her power and influence, however? That's more up her alley.
- Leaving lipstick kisses upon your skin and "accidentally" forgetting to remind you to get rid of them. Accidentally "forgetting" her designer bags, earrings, and jewelry at your home so that everyone that enters at least know that you two are very "close friends", and constantly cuddling next to you during stuffy galas and events while draping her arms around you to keep her close and nearby. Whispering sweet nothings in your ears and making you giggle and blush so hard while she sends a smirk at the person who tried to take you away from her. A reminder that they can never have you because Mari has worked hard to become the only apple of your eye.
- In current canon, she does design her own clothes so you becoming her muse in her future designs. No matter your body type, she'd absolutely adore every part of you. Her designs are lovingly drawn with all of your curves in her mind, she bites her lip as her fingers delicately run over the fabric to smooth it out over the mannequin because she knows the color would look absolutely perfect on you. If you ever complain about ill-fitting clothes or want to improve your outfits, don't worry your cute little head about it♡ Mari will be more than happy to do so, especially because it gives her an opportunity to see what kind of clothes you like, and what style preferences you have♡
- The reason why Mari is so obsessed with you is because you make her feel safe. She may protect people but whose there to protect her? She was forced to leave her home, her romances have ended in either tragedy or failure (B'wana Beast fucking dying, her and Bronze Tiger not working out, and John Stewart being a HOMEWRECKER/j), but despite all of that, she stayed strong and never let it get in the way of her duties as a hero.
- But then you came into her life. You became her friend and close confidant. She told you everything and you were so...kind, compassionate. You put your hand over hers and told her how much you admired her for being so strong...but that you also felt so bad that she had no one to lean on, no one she felt that she could depend on, that she always had to be the one to keep the brave face. Maybe its because you understood what it was like to feel that way, maybe it was out of extreme empathy but you smiled up at her.
- "Mari, I might not be able to fly or save the world like you do, but....I want to be there for you. I admire you, not just for your strength or your bravery, but because your heart is so big and has gone through so much. Please, let me help you the same way you help everyone else!"
- And once she felt her heart skip a beat, she realized that she could never let you go. Because she finally had someone who she could come home to, someone who she felt safe enough to not be Vixen or renowned supermodel/ fashion designer. But Mari McCabe, the woman who helps people because she wasn't able to help the ones she loved. But not you, she'll be ready this time.
- After all, she's not oblivious to the risks of what happens to civilians who date heroes. She's seen it again and again with her coworkers and friends. So while she won't kill villains, she will give them a message they will never forget. Scratch it into their minds with her perfectly manicured and sharp nails that you are not be touched and that she will happily give them reasons not too.
- She really isn't that bad of a yandere. She would love to spoil you but she would have enough empathy to not straight up rob you of your independence. Not to mention that unlike traditional yanderes who want to lock their darlings away, Mari would love to flaunt you at her side. Showing you off in cute outfits that she bought/made you herself, taking you with her to different countries where she has a photoshoot at so you two can make a vacation of it, and having everyone gawk at you and her the moment you two walk into the room knowing they can look at you but they can't touch.
- She tries her best to keep you out of her work but if you notice her stressed or upset, you beg her for the chance to make her feel better. That can either mean having a nice relaxing bath with rose petals and soothing salts with her, massaging her tense muscles and aching body from a hard night of fighting and acrobatics, or maybe something a bit more physical. Maybe even all three. Either way, it will always end with her using her fingers to draw various shapes and patterns on your bare skin as she purrs softly into your comforting kisses and sweet praise. Her grip on you tightening and a small playful whine pulled from her lips whenever you stop for even a second.
- SHE WOULD TOTALLY RECOGNIZE YOU FROM SCENT ALONE AS WELL and her heightened senses are HIGHLY tuned to every detail about you. When she's halfway at the door of the luxury apartment she convinced you to live with her in, she smiles at the sounds of your scurrying feet as you excitedly anticipate the return of your lovely girlfriend. The way that she loves to sniff your hair and during sex, would so have a thing for pressing her nose against your body and letting herself get dizzy and drunk off your delicious scent♡ She savors every touch and intimate moment you two share like a fine meal, worshipping every part of your body and letting you do the same to hers, she will have every aspect of you memorized like the back of her hand.
- When she feels insecure or unconfident, she needs you. She lays her head on your lap and wants you to tell her that it will all be better. As prideful of a woman as she is, she can't deny the fact that she feels herself get soft around you. But that doesn't make you her weakness. Quite the opposite actually. Because even when the odds are against her, even when it seems like the villains have the upper hand, Mari will keep pressing on. Her urge to fight and protect stronger than ever and its all because of you. She fights so hard to get back home to you, she will gladly take every hit and injury if it means you'll be back home to kiss it better. She refuses to go down because you'll be by yourself, your beautiful eyes teary eyed, and your poor sweet heart broken because of her. The thought alone drives her insane with determination and anger because Mari will always be there to wipe away your tears, just like you have hers, and she will push herself above and beyond to get back to you.
- In terms of her being aware of her own yandere tendencies, she is aware that the feelings she has for you are wrong. That her dark thoughts aren't the normal jealous/possessiveness that people typically feel for their partners. But she will also justify to herself that its for your own good and besides...you love her, right? You'd totally accept her and the ugly side of her affections but there's no need to reveal all of that to you now. Instead just focus on her distractions and flirtations.
- Because they keep you from seeing that you foolishly wandered into the lioness's den and that there's no way to escape it now♡
#You all don't understand how much I YEARN for this woman#GIVE ME MORE OF MY GLORIOUS QUEEN X READERS#yandere dc comics x reader#yandere dc x reader#yandere justice league#Mari McCabe x reader#Vixen dc comics#Vixen x reader#dc comics vixen x reader#yandere female#female darling#female reader#sapphic yandere#dc comics x reader#dc comics x you#yandere dc comics x you#yandere dc comics x reader#dc x reader#wlw reader#dc comics wlw
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fic where astarion puts lipstick on u? ☺️ I feel like that could be super intimate
aksjdhfakdhf, anon please 😭 this is so cute, yes yes I write c:
~ wc: 2k, no warnings, this is just fluffy and cute. tav and astarion are already in a relationship. attempted to make this as gender neutral as possible, but I did throw in a few pretties (since astarion does say that in the game), a few darlings and he calls you gorgeous. astarion would call you all those things regardless of gender so I hope you're okay with that ❤ enjoy & and thank you for the prompt, this was a lot of fun!

You sigh as you look down at the metal tube in your hands defeated with the fact that you don’t think, or even know, how to properly apply lipstick. Up until arriving at Baldur’s Gate you never had the need to dress nicely. Of course your clothing choice was much more than just clothing, it was armor meant for protecting and not so much for looking good.
You had found this small shop on the outskirts of the city one evening. It didn’t cost a lot of gold, and you wanted to treat yourself. Though maybe you should have gone with something you were more familiar with instead, but you wanted to feel attractive; pretty even.
It was a peaceful evening at camp, the day hadn’t been taxing on the group luckily, just a few pesky thieves but nothing else major happened. Your tent was further away from the center of camp where the others were, you enjoyed the solitude that it provided giving your mind and body an opportunity to just breathe and relax. By the gods, you’d take that chance any time it arose.
You had snuck away from the group while everyone was laughing and talking over the wine from the city. You so desperately wanted to try out this lipstick, but after several attempts and every pass looking worse than the previous your shoulders slumped in defeat, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. You could also ask someone in camp, maybe Shadowheart or Isobel would know. You remember them both stating they’ve worn makeup before, shit, Isobel currently wears makeup.
But admittedly you didn’t have that type of relationship with them. Of course you were fond of them, friends even, but close enough to ask for something like this? You weren’t sure you were that comfortable with them. Truth be told, you were only close with one person like that in your camp, the pale elf himself, Astarion. An odd person to ask possibly, has he ever worn makeup before – or lipstick even? You weren’t sure, but you weren’t sure if you even cared.
He’d help you right?
You shove the tube into your pocket, and head towards the campfire where you left him with the group. The light of the fire danced across his skin, washing warm hues across his pale skin. His rather white hair was highlighted in reds and oranges, his red irises reflecting the vermillion shades of the flames. He was laughing at something Gale was sputtering on about, a genuine smile on his face.
Truly beautiful.
You step into the light of the fire, one arm crossed across your chest holding yourself close. Caging yourself off as if you’re too afraid to ask such a simple question from the man you adore. “Astarion.”
Astarion’s attention is ripped away from Gale at the drop of his name, his name sounding like honey on your lips. He’d never get used to it. Warmth blossoms within his chest at the sight of you on the other side of the fire, “Yes, darling.” He smiles towards you, scooting himself over on the log he was sitting on, patting the wood for you to sit next to him.
You smile at him, and make your way around the side of the fire, offering a small wave to the few people who were still at the campfire. You cross behind Astarion’s back, hand dragging across his shoulders. You lean down behind him, fingers dancing up the back of his neck into his hair. “Can I ask something of you, my love?”
He leans back into your hand slightly still facing the fire as he answers. “Anything.”
You kiss his cheek, it’s short and quick as your words mumble and stumble out of your mouth. “Can I ask you away from everyone else?”
His body stiffens slightly, “Is everything okay?” Astarion turns towards you, his tone shifts in his question. Worry, and something similar to dread fills his eyes as he looks into yours. “Did… did I do something?”
You offer him a soft smile, “Everything is fine.” You cup his cheek in the palm of your hand, thumb brushing across his fire warmed skin. “You didn’t do anything.”
He swallows down the worry and dread as he leans into your palm. Astarion nods up at you, “Okay, darling. Where do you want to go?”
You look past the fire in the direction of your tent, “Is my tent okay?”
Astarion nods, standing up next to you. “Lead the way.”
The fact that you wanted to ask Astarion to put lipstick on you was plaguing your mind. You were sure you were making this a bigger deal than it really was, it wasn’t that big of a deal to begin with. But by the gods, your mind was telling you that it was the absolutely worst thing that you could ask of this man.
You slowly lead him back to your tent, your hand in his. The warmth of the fire still lingering on his skin, the cool evening breeze bringing a yin and yang sensation. “Now, darling, I’m dying to know what you wanted to ask.”
You were second guessing yourself as you pulled the front of your tent open and allowed him and yourself to walk in. You take a deep breath, “I… I — uh.” You shake your head and take a few steps further into your tent.
Astarion squeezes your hand, “You can ask me anything, you know that.”
You sigh, letting go of his hand as you drag your fingers through your hair. “I know.” You look at him, the crimson irises carefully watching you. You start pacing the length of your tent. It’s not big by any means, just enough room for your bed roll, a small table and stool. But you were gonna pace it as much as you could, as much as the space would allow; trying as best as you could to allow your mind some room to think of the question at hand.
“Darling.”
You were biting your nails as you heard Astarion call for you. Your eyes search his, uncertainty lays heavy on your expression. “You can’t laugh at me, okay?”
Astarion chuckles at that. You sweet, precious thing of his, he could never. “I wouldn’t dare laugh at you like that.”
You nod, looking at the floor again. “So I uh – I bought something in the city the other day and I need help putting it on.”
He raises an eyebrow to you, crossing his arms at his chest. “And what did you buy?”
You stuff your hand into your pocket and pull out the metal tube, palm side up showing Astarion. Your eyes burn holes into your palm, embarrassment flushes your cheeks red. How stupid is this.
You hear Astarion stepping forward, into your space. “Lipstick?”
Your eyes dare to look at him, too scared to see the expression he has on his face. “Yeah, I don’t know how to properly apply it. I was trying earlier, but it kept looking all wrong and bad and Astarion, I just wanted to look pretty.” Your words come out of your mouth a little too quick, not giving your brain enough time to process before speaking.
Astarion cups your cheek this time, a playful tone to his soft voice. “Oh darling,” He leans in and kisses your forehead. “You are always beautiful.”
Your arms cross, pouting. “But I wanted to feel pretty.” Your eyes darted up to him for a second before they found the floor, “Wanted to be pretty for you.”
“There isn’t a day where I don’t think you’re the most stunning person I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He grabs the metal tube from your hand. “But I can put this on for you, if you so wish.”
You smile at him, “Please.”
He nods towards your stool, silently asking you to sit down. Your feet take you to the stool and you sit yourself down as Astarion opens the lid, a smile spreads on his face as he sees the color you purchased. It’s nothing flashy, a more mutual tone. Probably to not draw too much attention to yourself if he was to guess. “This color will look so pretty on those lips of yours.”
“You think so?”
Astarion steps in between your legs. One hand holds your chin, urging your head upwards so he can see you better. The other hand holds the lipstick carefully, twisted up just enough to be easily applied to your lips. “I know so.”
Your hands land on the outside of his thighs, just holding his pants as you carefully watch him. His eyes flit to yours and linger for a second longer. “Don’t look at me like that, darling.”
You smile at him, teasing, “Like what?”
“Like you want to kiss me.” Crimson eyes drift down to your lips.
“I always want to kiss you. Always want your lips on me, want them everywhere –.”
Astarion squeezes your chin, “Behave yourself, sweetheart.”
You giggle, smiling at him sweetly. “I always behave for you.”
He cocks an eyebrow to you, a smile plays across his face, fangs exposed slightly in the light of your tent. “I would have to disagree.” His hand moves in slowly, carefully, as he presses the lipstick to your lips. Your eyes are locked onto his, though he isn’t looking at you anymore, you can’t help but just watch him in concentration. Trying his best, giving his best to you.
He smiles as he pulls the lipstick away from your lips. “Gorgeous. This color suits you, darling.” He grabs your small mirror off the table next to you, flipping the mirror around for yourself to see.
Your eyes widen at how well it’s applied, like he’s done it a million times. You move the mirror around better to see his work. Astarion was right, the color does suit your skin tone just perfectly. “Thank you Astarion. I – wow. Just how are you so skilled?”
“Oh,” His eyes fall to the floor, you see his body freeze beyond your mirror as dread fills the pit of your stomach.
Shit.
You put the mirror face down on the table, standing quickly as horror washes over your face. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m sorry.”
Astarion shakes his head, and continues anyway. “I used to wear it to lure victims back to Cazador.” His voice is low, hurt as the words are hushed out.
“I… I didn’t know that, I’m sorry for asking this of you.”
“I didn’t expect you to, I’ve never told you that.” He shrugs his shoulders.
“You didn’t have to.” Your nail digs into the palm of your hand, you feel horrible for asking such a thing. If you knew you would have never asked.
Astarion’s hand reaches out for yours, fingers intertwined with yours. “I’d do anything for you, my love. It was in the past, the future will be better. Even the now is better.”
You smile at him, "And I'd do anything for you. One day at a time, my love." You giggle, pressing up on your tiptoes as you kiss his cheek. You grin at the mark the lipstick left on his cheek. He laughs knowing you've left a mark on his cheek. "I love you, thank you Astarion." You kiss his lips soft and delicate, sure to be careful not to mess up his work.
"I love you too, gorgeous. Shall we show our friends?" He takes your hand as the other opens your tent up, awaiting for you to follow him.
You smile, “What about the mark on your cheek, you want to wipe it off before we go?”
Astarion laughs as his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you close. “I’d wear any mark from you proudly, I’ll leave it.” His hand wraps around the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss. It’s warm, soft and caring; you’ll never get used to it. Or him for that matter.
Your thumb brushes across his cheek, as you pull away from the kiss. You smile as his lips are slightly tinted the shade of your lipstick. “Alright, let’s go then.”
#astarion bg3#baldurs gate astarion#astarion#astarion x tav#astarion x you#astarion x reader#baldur's gate 3#this dumb pointy eared vampire has me in a chokehold#this prompt was so fucking cute i screamed when i saw it#thank you for asking for this#i appreciate you sm
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Hiii so my birthday is October 9 and i was hoping you would write me a fiction about wilbur pressumably about brat reader x incelbur ? Also would love a breeding kink but if youre uncmfy with that don't do it peace and love :)
Happy birthday darling!!! I hope this is what you wanted and I hope you enjoy ;) sorry I didn’t incorporate any birthdays in here but- it’s pure filth so.
warnings: brat tamer!incel…. Degradation, jealous bur, petnames….. really just- y’all are in college!! , aftercare, reader and wil are lowkey both cute at the end.
also sorry if this is wak! I’m getting back into writing longer smut
-
“If you weren’t such a slut for attention, maybe we wouldn’t be here. But no, you wanted to test my fucking limits and now I’ll test yours, yeah?”
You had been in a mood all day. Wilbur had been doing everything else under the sun instead of talking to you and giving you attention. You never begged for attention but today was the only day exception, whining and moaning for him to look at you. But you were just waved off as he continued to work.
You finally had it and stormed off. If he didn’t want to give you attention, you’d find someone who would. People don’t ask you where the parties are at everyday for no reason.
As changed, a tighter shirt that exposed your torso and pants that exposed a little too much fit around your hips. You put all the miscellaneous things on as well, smiling at yourself in the mirror as you made sure you looked perfect.
“Where are you going? Looking like that?” Wil stood in the doorway, arms crossed as he furrowed his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes at his concern, not in the mood too hear his poor excuse to make you stay.
“I’m going to a party.” You plain out said as he scoffed and came behind you, looking at you on the mirror with dead eyes.
“Without me? While looking like this? Trying to get everyone’s attention in that building?” Wilbur hissed out as he caged you against the counter, hands gripping the material.
Looking back at him, you smirked as you shrugged. “And what if I was? Better than what you’ve given me all day. At least they care.”
Those words set Wilbur off, his hand gripped your hair, pulling your head back as he pressed his body onto yours, making you bend slightly over the cold marble. “You don’t think I fucking care? I chased after you for years and I finally got. And this is what I get? A fucking whore who can’t go a couple hours without someone’s attention? Lucky me huh?”
His eyes pierced through yours as he held your head back, your scalp burning from the strength of his pull. A smile stood strong on your face as he degraded you for your worth, loving every second of it. “You’d think you’d give me more attention if you wanted me so bad right? You’d spend every second on your knees worshipping me- yet I don’t see it…” you pouted at him as you hit your lip. “Maybe someone else can give me that-“
You were pushed down onto your knees as Wilbur stood in front of you, hair still in hand as he slapped you across your face, taking your jaw in his free hand, “Want attention? Fucking earn it, you brat. You know what I want.”
Keeping his hand in your hair, he loosened his grip as your brought your hands up, pausing as he let out a disappointed hum. “C’mon baby, you know better than that…” The man mockingly pouted at you, shoving your hands off his pants, pushing your head closer to the bulge in his pants.
As your teeth gripped the material, pulling and twisting to get the button off, you looked at the tall man through your lashes. Finally getting the material undone, you quickly took the zipper in your mouth, pulling it down south as you nosed at his hard on. The musky sent that he held intoxicated you, making your brain fussy as you mouthed at his clothed cock.
Groaning, Wilbur watched as you licked and kissed along his bulge, hips twitching slightly at the sight. “Come baby, I know you want it-“ as he gave you confirmation you quickly pulled his boxers down the best you could just enough for his cock to spring out and hit your face in the process, precum marking your cheek.
Hissing at the cold air that hit his cock, a moan Wilbur followed at you took his tip in between your lips, your soft tongue soothing the ache that pulsates in his dick. As you kitten licked and sucked at the head all you could, will pushed your head down, down, down until he finally felt you gag around his length. Throwing his head back, he kept your head down on his length as your nose was touching his pelvis, hands grabbing at his thighs as tears filled your eye line.
Looking down at you, Wilbur almost came right in that moment as you looked into his eyes, lust and want glazing over your eyes, tears falling as you blinked. Spit fell out of your mouth and down your chin while your hand was buried between your blush thighs, rubbing your clit as the situation escalated.
“Fuck- always such a good baby when you finally gets your hands on my dick. Is that all it takes? My dick down your throat, spit all of your face as I use you like a fucking rag doll? Yeah, I bet you like that, you fucking cock sleeve. But only for me yeah? Only I’ll be able to make you cum like this, make you act like this. Fucking- yes baby!” Wil rambled as he fucked your throat, his thrust gaining speed and strength as he went on, the feeling of your throat closing in on his cock as you choked on his length making it hard for him to not finish.
As you hallowed your cheeks, making the feeling even better, Wilbur moaned out as he pulled out of you, hips jerking against your face as you held your tongue out against him. Precum dripped off his tip as you licked his length and collected the salty substance, moaning at the taste of him. Wilbur came down from the high, upset that he pushed himself that fair, edging himself in the end.
He looked down at you, eyes hooded as you looked up at him with the most innocent expression ever, smiling up at him as his hard cock sat next to your face, licking up the left over cum that rested on his hard on. Scoffing down at you, Wilbur pulled you up by your hair, a whine coming from your mouth as he shoved you over the sink, the cold material soothing your hot skin.
“Now what your going to do, is your going to be a good girl like I know you can be, and fucking take it.” Wil growled as he held your head up, pulling your pants down and slamming into you as he kept eye contact with you. His thrust were hard and slow at first, wanting you to feel all of him all at once just for him to take it back out.
Your arousal made it easier for him to slide in and out, the sounds your core making and the skin on skin contact making you keen over as a loud moan escapes your mouth.
At this point he was going faster than you thought was possible for a man to go, hitting spot so deep in you they made you see stars. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as Wilbur brought his hands down to your neck, lifted you up off the counter and against his back. A choked moan left your mouth as the new angle let him hit deeper in you, your body starting to fold as your legs shook, the pleasure being way to much.
Wilbur wrapped his hand around your stomach, keeping you up as his hips went faster, his own moans and whines filling your senses.
“Such a good whore for me, letting me use you like the toy you are. Only good to be full of my cum and warm my cock. No one else can make you feel like this darling, only me. Only I can make you submit to me like this. Say it.”
“O-On-Only you. F-fuck-“ drool ran down the sides of your mouth, dripping onto your shirt as your mouth opened wide, empty screams being left in your wake.
“Already fucked you dumb baby? Thought you wanted attention- oh fuck-“ you clenched around him as you gripped at his wrist that held you neck, fucking back against him as you chased your own orgasm. “You don’t get to fucking cum until I tell you, ok slut? listen to me. Hold it for a little longer, want to make sure you know who you belong to baby, want you to know who fucks you the best…” Wilbur whined out as his hips stuttered against yours, the sloppy sounds of your core clenching around him and his moans filling the small bathroom.
“Wil- I- please!” You whined as your legs shook and your upper body started to fall over more, Wils hand straining on your neck, making it tighten more.
You couldn’t hold it in anymore, it was getting too much. How deep he was, how he was hitting every spot perfectly, how he was treating you. It was all too much, and you needed release.
“Cum for me.” Those words made your eyes roll back, seeing stars as you let out a scream, squirting all over his cock as your legs gave out.
Feeling you tighten around him, Wilbur thrusted a couple more times, stuttering as he filled you up with his cum. “Fucking take it, gonna make you so full with my cum-“
The wave that came over you both took a bit to come down, the tension and heavy atmosphere of the situation dissipating as you went limp against Wilbur and his hold, barely being able to keep yourself a float after the intensity of your orgasm.
Letting out a sigh, Wilbur slipped out of you, groaning as his now soft cock hit the air cold once more. You whined as you clenched around nothing, missing the way he filled you up and hit those spots oh so deep.
Wilbur watched, mesmerized as his cum fell out of your spent core, pushing the small amount back into you. “So you know who owns you baby. Who can make you feel this good.” Wilbur whispered out as he massaged your body, soothing the aching muscles on your body.
Wilbur pulled you up once more, slipping your pants all the way off, taking your shirt off as well as he sat you down on toilet seat, slipping his clothes off as well.
“Go to the bathroom love, and then we’ll take a shower so I can show you what I’ve been working on, yeah?” Wil spoke softly to you as the sound of the facet being turned on, water hitting the shower floor as you looked up at him with a confused smile. “You thought I was doing random shit all day and ignoring you? You think that lowly of me?” Wilbur teased as you shook your head, grabbing his hand in yours as he hoisted you up into his arms, walking into the shower with you.
As he placed you down on the floor, arms wrapping around your waist, he placed his forehead on yours. The moment was silent, but comfortable. There wasn’t much you could say, both of you understanding the other loved them just as much and that it was the heat of the moment. You both knew you weren’t actually mad and he wasn’t either, but rather frustrated at the situation.
Smiling down at you, Wilbur placed a kiss in your head as he pulled you into his chest.
“I love you.”
“and I love you.”
#lilly writez.#lilly answerz.#incelbur.#incelbur x reader#incelbur#wilbur soot fluff#wilbur soot smut#wilbur soot imagine#wilbur soot x reader#wilbur soot#wilbur x reader#c!wilbur smut#c!wilbur x reader#c!wilbur#x reader
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Ooooooo!!!! Could u do SnowJanus x Jealous Reader where someone was flirting with both boys and she gets upset and they notice so show her who they belong to with some smut🤭🤭
-🐍
nsfw | mdni (in a world where sej goes to the university giggles), illusions to smut
you guys were at a party for the university. dr gaul was celebrating the accomplishments of her students and therefore, coryo was required to attend. and being his girlfriend, you attended alongside your other boyfriend, Sejanus. coryo and sej were talking to people within the event, all important people of course. and as they did so, one of coryo’s fellow classmates who’s also studying under dr gaul began to very clearly flirt with both sej and coryo.
she was gripped their arms, laughing too hard at their jokes. you could help but frown. only you could do that to your boys. they’re only yours after all. you were definitely jealous.
so later on, when the three of you went home to your shared apartment, you were grumpy. you weren’t sure if they picked up on it or not, talking amongst the themselves about the people they’ve met at the party. you didn’t speak as sejanus unlocked the apartment. you walked in first, immediately going to the bedroom and closing the door behind you.
which definitely caused them to be concerned. sejanus frowned but offered to coryo that maybe you were just overwhelmed and needed time to yourself. but coryo shook his head, exclaiming that you seemed upset. so they walked into the bedroom as well, seeing you stripping out of your dress. you were wearing a pastel pink lingerie set, one that coryo had gifted out a few days ago.
“darling,” coryo spoke softly, walking up to you. you were struggling with the zipper of your dress so coryo unzipped it for you, letting the material fall onto the floor. “what’s wrong?” he asked, bringing his hands up to undo your necklaces.
you had a pout on your lips as sejanus walked into the room as well. he moved to stand in front of you. “did we do something to upset you?”
you couldn’t help rolling your eyes. “yes.” you admitted. because ultimately, communication is huge in a relationship, especially one where three people are involved.
coryo finished undoing your necklaces, gently taking them off of your neck as he brought them over to your jewelry box, putting them away. he walked back over to you, wrapped his arms around your waist. “what did we do, darling?” he murmured, press in a kiss to your shoulder.
you frowned, still pouting. “allowed some girl to flirt with the both of you.” you mumbled, slightly embarrassed by how jealous you are. maybe it’s because now they’re both doing on you. sejanus had wrapped his arms around your waist as well, hugging you from the front as coryo and sej intertwined their arms together.
“we allowed some girl to flirt with us?” sej asked into your ear. “what makes you say that?” he asked, looking into your eyes.
“that girl that coryo works with in dr. gaul’s lab,” you spoke more clearly. “she was all over the both of you, laughing at your stupid jokes that really weren’t that funny. it-she wanted you.” you explained, furrowing your eyebrows. “only i can have you.” you added quietly.
coriolanus chuckled in your ear, unable to help himself. “sej, isn’t she so cute?” he teased, looking at his boyfriend. “she’s jealous.”
sej gave coryo a sharp look, narrowing his eyes at the blond. “don’t tease her, coryo. she’s genuinely upset.” he exclaimed, moving his gaze back onto you. “princess, you have nothing to worry about. we only want you.”
coryo hummed, nodding his head as he pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck. “i could only ever imagine myself with you and sej. everyone else is beneath me, darling.” he murmured into your ear.
the two men pulled away from you slightly, enough to look at you fully. their arms left your body. and coryo moved to stand next to sej. “should we show you that we belong to you?”
you nodded your head. sej and coryo each took one of your hands, guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed. and as soon as you sat down, coryo got on his knees in front of you. “we’re gonna make you feel so good, darling. so good that you’ll have no doubts in your mind that we are wholeheartedly belonging to you.” he murmured, pressing kisses along your upper leg and thigh.
sejanus positioned himself behind you, pressing your back against his chest. “yes, we’re going to make you feel fantastic, princess. we could never belong to anyone but you.”
and that night, they indeed showed you that they belong to only you and no one else.
#the hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#minsasks#coriolanus snow#fanfic#coriolanus snow x reader#thg tbosas#thg#tbosas#coriolanus x you x sejanus#sejanus plinth x fem!reader#sejanus plinth smut#sejanus plinth x reader#coriolanus x sejanus x reader#sejanus plinth#snowjanus smut#snowjanus x reader#snowjanus#🐍 anon#🐍
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Yandere! Gojo Satoru x fem! reader | Yandere! Inumaki Toge x fem! reader
! MINORS DNI !
𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄 𝔾𝕆𝕁𝕆 𝕊𝔸𝕋𝕆ℝ𝕌 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕀ℕ𝕌𝕄𝔸𝕂𝕀 𝕋𝕆𝔾𝔼 𝕩 𝕗𝕖𝕞!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 ( INDIVIDUAL PAIRING PER CHARACTER )
𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐘 ℍ𝔼𝔸𝔻ℂ𝔸ℕ𝕆ℕ𝕊
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ( + HEAVILY IMPLIED NSFW FOR GOJO ) 𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕃𝕀𝔼𝔻 𝕊𝕋𝔸𝕃𝕂𝕀ℕ𝔾, 𝕄𝕌ℝ𝔻𝔼ℝ, 𝕂𝕀𝔻ℕ𝔸ℙℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾, ℕ𝕆ℕ-ℂ𝕆ℕ 𝔸𝔽𝔽𝔼ℂ𝕋𝕀𝕆ℕ, 𝔻ℝ𝕌𝔾𝔾𝕀ℕ𝔾, 𝕄𝔸ℕ𝕀ℙ𝕌𝕃𝔸𝕋𝕀𝕆ℕ, 𝕌ℕℍ𝔼𝔸𝕃𝕋ℍ𝕐 𝔹𝔼ℍ𝔸𝕍𝕀𝕆ℝ
GOJO SATORU
- ENTP - 28 y/o - He/him - December 7 - Jealous + Clingy + Self-indulgent Yandere
Gojo.. is a complicated one. By this I mean he isn't easy to pin down as a yandere type in itself. He has several traits that lead to different yandere categorizations, but I think that the best way to categorize him is as a jealous, clingy, and self-indulgent yandere.
JEALOUS - FIERCELY PROTECTIVE OR VIGILANT OF ONE'S RIGHTS OR POSSESSIONS
CLINGY - TO ACT NEEDY, DEPENDENT, JEALOUS, AND/OR OBSESSIVE
SELF-INDULGENT - EXCESSIVE OR UNRESTRAINED GRATIFICATION OF ONE'S OWN APPETITES, DESIRES, OR WHIMS
Gojo is generally someone charismatic with an open persona. He's the type of person who can either get along with everyone or be an asshole. Or both, even. That's just the type of person Gojo is, really.
However, when it comes to you, his energy goes out of bounds. He's someone very cheerful whose charisma will know no bounds when with you. He'll talk to you whenever he can, visit you whenever he can, shower you with random, spontaneous gifts whenever he can, and they might not even have the sender written on them.
It's on a degree, affectionate and cute, and also a little bit off-putting. He'll be all over you, asking you all sorts of questions.
How have you been? What have you been doing? What's your favorite time of the day? Why were you not at home at the usual time? With whom have you been spending time with? Do you like anyone in some sort of way? Do you love anyone? Do you love me?Do you hate me?
It's all sweet, but he's genuinely trying to catch your attention. Please, darling, can't you spare a second of your busy schedule and pay attention to him?
Will he have to fight for your attention and start removing any sort of obstacles that may be interfering, or will you finally look at him?
He's going to be stalking you anyways, so why bother trying ignore him?
Gojo's advances are paced and quick. He makes it clear from the start that he likes being around you and would not hesitate to be with you should he be granted the chance. If you're interested in him, that makes it all the better, and you're definitely in for some fun and a wild ride.
He'll show you all sorts of good and crazy things that come with being in a relationship with him. This may range from going on random trips to faraway places all the way to a nice cuddling moment during morning hours or late evening.
If you don't really like him, though, he won't care. You don't love him? He'll take it as a challenge, one that he welcomes entirely. He'll spend his time trying to charm his way to your heart, doing small favors all the way to more direct approaches to his intent.
When (and if) he sees that his attempts have not worked, he'll start to assume things. Are you with someone else? Is that why you don't want to be with him? Seriously, what does anyone else have that he doesn't? He could do so much better than whoever you're with.
Or maybe, you just are in denial. You're in denial, and you say you don't love him but you really do. How endearing! It's fine darling, just tell him! He won't judge you. He'll love you, hold you, protect you, care for you, what's there to lose?
He's going to push your every and individual button until you really show him what you feel. When he sees that all his doubts of why you're avoiding his advances are cleared and nothing works, he resorts to the worst.
Kidnapping you.
He has several ways of doing this. He could either right away nab you to his place and tie you up, or just knock you out. He could also just use a chloroform rag if he's feeling particularly lazy that day, but it might not be entirely efficient should you fight back and have good reflexes on how to act (it'd be a waste of resources and money).
He'll most likely just wait until you fall asleep, then take you quickly enough to his place, and if you still happen to be asleep, he'll tie you up, probably to a bed so you'll be comfortable, and place a blindfold around your head so that you can't see, and then place a rag on your mouth. It won't be deep enough to choke you, but it's just a cloth to make sure that if you scream, you won't be heard by anyone but him.
The second you wake up, you'll see nothing. Your first instinct then, is to scream, and then you'll hear Gojo's voice sounding again as he walks closer to you. He expected you to wake up later, but he doesn't mind this at all. He welcomes the surprise.
He takes off your blindfold, and for the first time in a while, you see him without his own, your eyes meeting his vibrant, blue hues. They're rather beautiful, and he knows that as enchanting as they are, they're also rather off-putting in this situation.
He'll hold you, whisper sweet nothings in your ear as he cuddles you, not really caring about how scared you might feel. He'll try to assure you that everything's fine and that you're safe here with him, but your mind and heart tell you otherwise.
Oh, and don't even dream about escaping. It's impossible. And even if you do somehow manage to escape, the second you leave, he'll know, and before you know it, you'll be back with even more restraints. It would take him less than five minutes to locate you. Whatever privileges you had before, you've lost them, and now you're trapped inside infinitely.
He's not really happy you tried to escape, but at the same time, it amuses him that you thought you could escape. He toys with the idea of a cat-and-mouse chase. He'd love to chase you down for the mere fun of it. He'd even have his usual, relaxed smile while he does it.
Now, what really pisses him off is if you reject any and all sorts of affection he tries to offer you. You try to get out of cuddling? Maybe he accepts it the first time, you're still getting used to this after all. He can understand that. Wipe off his kisses? Please, don't do that. He's trying. Avoid his gaze and look anywhere but him? Keep quiet and don't say a single word no matter what?
What the fuck is your problem?
He's not happy. Come on, can't you comply just once?
He's trying to understand just why it is you're acting in such a way. He can't comprehend why you would be like this, and he's not satisfied with it at all. He wants to know how to deal with it. And a behavior like this would require punishment.
Gojo isn't necessarily lenient. He might just starve you, or leave you alone entirely for days on end until he knows that you won't be able to stand it. He's going to drive you to tipping insanity until you become more and more dependent on him.
"Go on, darling. Beg. Beg me. Beg me to stay. Beg for my love."
That sweet act he had that he needed you? Please. You're the one who needs him. He wants you to be dependent on him, to depend on him for your needs.
Normally, this is supposed to be something healthy if balanced equally on both ends, but he takes it to the extreme, making it something unhealthy rather than helpful. He wants you solely depend on him for everything. He loves how helpless he can make you.
This will also show during more intimate aspects of your love life. Whenever he's holding you tight, his digits moving inside of you at a sufficient pace, he'll whisper words coated in honey as to wash you away in a fantasy. He'll fuck you through and through, and all while he holds you tight, smothering you in kisses.
In this moment, he wants this to be something special. He doesn't want you thinking about anything else other than him while he fills you up. He'll comfort you, straddle you, and hold you, whispering alluring and sweet words as the night passes by unending. This is meant to be something special, and he'll make it special.
After all, you're his, aren't you?
"That's right, darling.. there's no need to worry about anything else. I'm right here. I'm all you need to think about."
TOGE INUMAKI
- INTP - 17 y/o - He/him - October 23 - Caring + Protective Yandere
Much like Gojo, I had a hard time pinpointing what kind of yandere Inumaki would be. However, it was slightly more difficult than Gojo. It's not because he matches for several types, rather, I couldn't find any category to fully (and accurately) represent him. I decided to categorize him as a caring and overprotective yandere, given it's what I thought would fit best.
"Inumaki is a Cursed Speech user. He speaks in rice ball ingredients to not curse others."
Inumaki doesn't fall easily. He's not like some yandere types that tend to fall head over heels at first sight of their darling. It will take him time before he falls in love. This is to say, he'll become friends first, then develop interest, and then try to figure out how to deal with his feelings like a normal person.
The only small detail is that the more he grows attached to you, or the more time he spends with you, a small feeling to protect you grows too. It's not that he views you as weak either. He just thinks that he should be there to help protect you. A matter of concern for your well-being, the way he sees it.
And contrary to what most would think, Inumaki's an easy yandere to navigate and deal with should you not make any wrong moves. It could well turn out to be a relatively functional relationship so long as it's done well. To detail further, once Inumaki assesses his feelings for you, he'll realize it's not just love he's feeling, it's also obsession.
He'll know it's not exactly healthy, but will still try to show it in a healthy manner, as to not scare you off. When it comes to confessing, he'll most likely just write you a letter. He won't do it in person, unless he's confronted about his feelings directly by you, to which he'll then attempt to answer.
Something to note; Inumaki, regardless of your answer, is still protective of you and cares for you. His Yandere typing Caring and Overprotective show particularly when he believes that you're around a bad influence. He won't try to manipulate you into thinking that true friends you have are bad people, nor will he turn others against you so that you're all his, because he knows just how hard it is to have other people to truly care for you and have your back.
He cares for you very strongly, and thereby, grows incredibly protective of you when he thinks you're doing something irrational that could harm you or be detrimental to your health. This could be hanging around people that could hurt you, overworking yourself, unhealthy coping mechanisms and/or habits.
He's going to be there to offer you solutions to your problems, even if he's not exactly the best at communicating or showing that he does care and feel concern for you. He'll be there to help you out, if it makes you feel any better.
As for confessions...
If you reject how he feels, he's definitely going to feel heartbroken, but he'll get over that glum sentiment relatively quickly. After that, his obsession, instead of going away, grows more than his love for you, and starts to affect him more than before.
If you accept how he feels, it will work out better, and while it's certainly going to take a while to be able to learn how to communicate fluently with a lack of words, it will actually be a rather sweet relationship that ought to last.
When it comes to acting on his obsession, Inumaki would not exactly... kill for you, but he would most certainly fight for you, much like Itadori. Inumaki is not "willing to kill," because it goes against what he does for a living, and it's a waste of his time. Rather, cursing the person and then exorcising them is more in his favor, because it amounts to the masses of curses he already exorcises regularly.
Inumaki would try to convince you to stay with him if you ever realize that he's more deranged than he lets on. If it doesn't work, he'll use Cursed Speech, as much as he wishes not to. Just the words "Don't leave," are enough for you to freeze in your tracks. And from that point an on, you realize that whatever relationship you have him with him is not a colorful daydream.
He's kind, yes, but he's not exactly willing to let you leave either. He still does want you, after all, and even if you don't exactly love him back, he won't let you go. He will use his Cursed Speech to his advantage, even if his original plan was to not coerce you into this.
However, if push comes to shove... he'll do it anyways. He's willing to put his feelings of care and concern aside to achieve his goal if it means keeping you to himself. He's not against putting you in your place if it means he'll get to keep you within range.
Don't get the wrong idea; Inumaki wants what's best for you. He wants the two of you to have a functional, healthy relationship that can lead to a wonderful life, though that by now is much more like a dream-like delusion rather than a reality. He just hopes you can see that. He doesn't want to hurt you. But he also doesn't want to lose you.
Unlike other yandere types who say "I want what's best for you," for nothing more than a source for manipulation, Inumaki says such a statement truthfully and as a lie, so both as reassurance and manipulation. He uses it in both ways, depending which turns to his advantage.
This would, preferably, lead you to slightly become a bit more trusting of him. The way he views it, the more trust he gains from you, the better and easier it will be to have you believe his side of the story when it comes to explaining more serious matters regarding his feelings. And given his inability to actually speak in fluent, whole sentences normally without cursing others, it gives him a bigger opportunity to have you try and understand and open up to him.
Now, in the case that you don't want to be with him and you try to escape him? Inumaki won't take it lightly. He's not the type to take you back immediately as soon as he spots you, though. He observes you for a while. He lets you believe you've gotten away for a long while. He'll entertain this fake fantasy you have of being able to run away from him.
Even if he hates the mere idea of it.
He'll see that you're "happy" and running about, doing your usual, and meanwhile, he's just been preparing a perfect way to ensure you won't run away when he captures you. Last time, he just had you in his room, but maybe now, he'll have to strap you to a chair with ropes and other restraints to restrict you furthermore.
It won't even stop there, and all that he's done in the few days he's been tracking you after your "successful" escape. Maybe around three days, once you're back at your own room or house, he'll shut off the power and take you back.
You'll hear footsteps, and right before you manage to run again, you'll be hearing that chilling, cold voice that you thought you'd lost again; a simple command that'll keep you right in place.
"Don't move."
#x reader#fanfiction#fem!reader#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#jjk x you#jjk imagines#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere jjk x reader#yandere imagines#tw yandere#jjk yandere#jjk yandere x reader#my writing#writing#drabbles#yandere headcanons#yandere x you#inumaki toge#jjk inumaki#inumaki x reader#jujutsu kaisen inumaki#cranberry.ichor#vanilla.cream
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Duck or Treat?
A very Oktober Halloween(ish) Gift for the wonderful @ritualofcirice and her work Hazbin Hotel Imagines and Scenarios Chapter 3 : When Lucifer gave you your fiftieth Duck <3
While going Trick or Treat with Niffty an Halloween, Things not go as planned for you and you´re met with the Question - Duck or Treat.
Trigger Warning: NICU, premature Birth, Fear, Hospital Stay
“But Dazzle would look so cute in that costume” - a sigh escaped your lips as you demonstratively held up the little ketchup bottle-style costume and put all your persuasion, into convincing Charlie that Razzle or Dazzle could wear a costume for the annual Halloween. But the two bodyguards of the Princess of Hell were not keen and had hidden somewhere in the hotel.
“And Razzle would wear a matching outfit - ketchup and mustard” - were your additional words and with a reach into one of the bags on the floor, you conjured up the second costume intended for Razzle.
A Halloween mustard bottle outfit. It would have been such a great combination and in your opinion Razzle and Dazzle already looked cute in general... only the costumes would have made them even cuter.
“Darling? Maybe our demon cat told Razzle and Dazzle that you put the hamburger costume on her and wanted to take her trick or treating with Niffty?” - Lucifer gently placed a hand on your right shoulder. His words made sense.
“Oh yes, I think Razzle and Dazzle are hiding together with your cat, buuuuut Niffty is already excited, she hasn't talked about anything else for last days” - Charlie said with a smile and took both of the packed costumes from you.
“Maybe we can use one of the costumes for the baby , when it comes in a few months and celebrates its first Halloween?” - Charlie changed the subject and your hand automatically went to your Stomach, resting gently on the fabric of your dress.
“Four more months... maybe I should have dressed up as a duckling, hm Luci?” - you replied and with one hand you reached for Lucifer's to squeeze it gently.
The duck in the oven surprise was a few months ago and since that, you told almost everyone, the public's focus has been on you, more than ever.
And Charlie and Lucifer's concern for your well-being has increased.
But it's still four months until the birth date.
Nevertheless, the thought of all the holidays and special moments , that you could experience with your baby, the family and Lucifer enchants you. The little girl would be loved and protected by everyone.
"And what are you supposed to portray?" - came the question from Angel, who had sprinkled a little orange glitter in his hair for Halloween and an upcoming shoot for a Halloween spin-off in Valentino's studio.
"Isn't that obvious?" - Husk commented from the bar and you smiled at the grumpy bartender. He hadn't dressed up and you had already known it.
"Oh? And what exactly is the not so obvious?" - Angel countered cluelessly.
“A strawberry” - was Husk’s answer.
“I thought you were supposed to be a tomato… oh” - said Lucifer, surprised.
You reached into one of the bags again and a small strawberry handbag and a green hat completed your outfit.
“I was already wearing it , when we went through the entrance to the hotel, but it’s a bit warm here today… but yes, Husk is right. I’m a strawberry for Halloween” - you giggled and it was a simple Halloween costume. But sufficient.
“A pregnant strawberry, how cute!” - giggled Niffty, who came running into the entrance area of the hotel in her Halloween costume and the sight elicited an amused laugh from you. Charlie, Angel and Husk also had to smile.
Because Niffty had put a lot of effort into her costume. She had sewn it by hand and of course chose a bad boy from the last few decades.
A serial killer costume.
Michael Myers.
She had styled her hair a little messier and the dark suit that was typical for Michael Myers had been changed into a knee-length dark two-piece dress and heels along with one of the kitchen knives, which completed her Halloween outfit.
“Exactly, Niffty… or should I say Michael Myers?” - you said to Niffty who gave you a proud smile and a few moments later a Halloween bucket appeared in both your free hand and Niffty’s hand.
“Don’t forget to smile Ladies!”, said Alastor from the reception before he and his shadow wrapped themselves in a dark cloud and disappeared.
“Alastor wanted to record a special podcast for Halloween… unfortunately he’s not coming with us”, explained Niffty and rustled the bag once.
“Oh, he’s already put some sweets in the bags. How nice of him”, you said happily and heard Lucifer quietly grinding his teeth.
“Could be poisoned and….”
“Daaad! Alastor is really trying to be nice!”
“Char-Char it….”
“Dad! Would he try to poison Niffty or the mother of my little sister and your daughter?”
“No?”
You could hear Lucifer wanting to say something else, but the ringing of his cell phone interrupted him. He let go of your hand, walked a few steps away and talked on the phone for a moment.
“I'm afraid I'll have to join you later... there's a meeting scheduled with my brothers and sisters... I'd really like to skip it, I told Asmodeus and Leviathan , that we wanted to go trick or treating with Niffty and....” - Lucifer had a pained expression on his face, but you completely understood. He was the king of hell, one of the seven deadly sins, and had obligations and duties that he had to fulfill.
“No problem Luci, we'll take care of ourselves and I think with Michael Myers by my side , nothing can happen to me”, you said lovingly and gave him a kiss on the cheek. If he has to go to this meeting, then so be it.
Lucifer smiled gratefully and then said goodbye.
You say goodbye to Charlie, who waves to you and Niffty as you leave the hotel, and then you set off with the little cyclops in your Halloween costumes, to visit the first shops and houses to do the well-known trick or treating.
It was something completely different to on earth.
Treat came first and usually something ends in flames or chaos if you have crappy candy... or don't open the door in the first place.
The children of hell, however, had a special position, got lots of candy and soon Niffty's little bucket was filled with lots of candy, a card for teeth cleaning at a Dentist Place, a poisonous green apple and a bracelet with a spider web design.
You also got a few things as a companion... candy and a saying like - well, pretty strawberry all alone? Niffty had scared the guy when she rang the bell and hit the air with the kitchen knife. She really took her role seriously. You shouldn't underestimate Michael Myers and the Strawberry Duo.
"What about the house? Does it belong to someone?", you nod once to an old building on the outskirts of the city, which was dilapidated and didn't look like it belonged to anyone...but appearances are deceptive, because as soon as you asked the question, a Hellborn with a broad smile appeared on the ground with a little yellow smoke.
"May I recommend our latest scare project to these costumed Halloween visitors? A Hunted House! For just a small entrance fee, there is an almost hour-long tour of scares and horror!", the Hellborn said mysteriously.
"Oh, that sounds exciting. Do you want to do that?", Niffty grabbed your free hand and you couldn't say no.
Maybe it was because of the baby fever, that was flaring up or because the cyclops was so small, but the pleading expression on Niffty's face triggered something in you that made you nod.
“A haunted house, huh? Let's see if we can scare the ghosts there!” - were your words, and after paying the entrance fee, the spooky fun could begin.
You ignore the slight stomach ache , that makes you grimace when you enter. That's probably from eating sweets. According to Niffty, that's part of a trick or treating trip. And you ate a lot of them as you went from house to house.
The Hellborn hadn't under-promised, the haunted house was much darker and scarier on the inside than it seemed.
There were scare actors, hidden rooms... spooky decorations and something that looked like the shadow of a real ghost.
The goal was to find a way to the exit through the labyrinth of rooms, stairs, secret rooms and hiding places. And it was fun... to get scared and discover the little details of the haunted house... the fog that suddenly appeared enveloped it in an even scarier atmosphere.
Up to the point where you and Niffty parted ways.
A trapdoor had opened under your feet and pulled you down to a lower floor... into the basement and Niffty's outraged cries had been swallowed up by the dark walls of the basement.
Nothing had happened to you when you hit the floor, a mattress had been provided and a few flashlights had been switched on for the visitors to light up the way in the darkness. You weren't afraid. The relationship with Lucifer and moving into the king's castle had given you a little more self-confidence.
When you turned the next corner and met a scar actor in a zombie outfit with one eye hanging out, you were frightened and let out a surprised scream... but you didn't expect the intense stomach pain that brought your body to its knees.
An intense pain took your breath away. For a moment, everything went everything goes black. The colors start to fade and the zombie comes a few steps closer, waving his axe in front of you and making... zombie noises.
"Aaaaaah!"- you scream, full of fear.
Real fear... something is wrong... your body is clearly signaling that something is wrong... and that it has nothing to do with the haunted house.
When something warm runs down your legs, you are confused... before a new threshold of pain causes you to scream louder, scared and panicked.
Tears form in your eyes and at that moment the scare actor , also realizes that something is wrong and contacts the owner of the haunted house via walkie talkie.
Only when the new wave of pain hits do you guess the reason.
It wasn't the zombie scare actor's great performance... that was premature labor.
But… it was much too early and… you instinctively push… a reaction from your body, while around you quick steps approached the basement… you are now lying on your back on the cold floor… another scream escapes you as your hands search for something to hold on to, but you can’t get a hold of anything, expect the gold ground.
Another contraction causes you to push, the panic and fear for your baby manifests itself in your brain. This isn’t how it should be… you… you… should have four more months left....four months of pure Happyness and looking forward to be a parent....to promise Lucifer he is going to be a good dad, he did a very good job with charlie after all....to have late night Walks in the Park with Lucifer, to kiss him good morning and in renturn he first gaves you a kiss on the forehead, and than a kiss on the stomach for the little baby girl.
It was much too early!
The next wave of pain exhausts you… your vision blurs and you feel, only half awake, how Niffty rushes to your side and grabs your hand, begging you to stay with her… the ambulance is on the way and you would be going to the hospital… but your eyes closed too fast....it went dark too fast.
Bright light blinds you as you open them again. The voices of the nurse and doctors are so loud. Your hand automatically goes to your stomach... your now flat stomach. Where is your BABY!? In a panic, you want to jump up and flee from the hospital bed, but a kind nurse stops you and the doctor treating you takes away your fear.
***
“There we have our patient again, don't worry, her little daughter is fine... she is in an incubator in the premature baby ward of the hospital, we will take her to her right away. Please rest” said the doctor.
She... is alive? Your baby, who was born four months early... survived? Was she okay? What happend to Niffty?
“How... what... and Niffty?”
What had happened to Niffty... was she still in the haunted house?
“Your companion threatened our head doctor, if he doesn't provide the best possible treatment and a single room for you and the baby... he will suffer...a lot” - was the nurse's answer with a slightly tortured laugh.
“If…if they’re afraid of Niffty, they’re scared of my Partner”
Lucifer would be terribly worried…hopefully he had finished his meeting with the other sins…damn overthinking and people pleasing…another habit of yours.
You were soon taken to your private room and were able to see your baby for the first time.
The incubator frightened you…all the tubes and wires the baby was connected to, the beeping monitors and equipment monitoring her vital signs…the feeding tube that had been put in…the little body rising and falling as she breathed and the fact that she had come into this world too early.
Tears welled up in your eyes and you were scared. Terribly scared.
The nice nurse and doctor, however, assured you that the technological standards and the chances of survival were good, even for hell.
And as the partner of the King of Hell, you would take extra good care of Mother and baby.
You were told what to look out for, how important it was that no germs got into the incubator and that you should make physical contact with the baby as soon as possible, talk to her a lot, sing to her...caring for you and your premature baby , would be unusual for both of you...but you were in good hands.
Your body, after you had assured yourself that the heart rate on one of the screens remained constant...craved rest...and you dared to go into a restless sleep. Sleep that your body desperately needed.
Several hours later, you were woken up by the gentle sounds of an all too familiar violin.
Lucifer sat by the baby's incubator and hummed the song - Hush little Baby - quietly accompanied by the music on the violin.
Another reason besides the hormones and the event that caused your inner dams to collapse and made you start to cry.
Silent…quietly just so as not to interrupt your partner's beautiful violin playing…but Lucifer notices it and is quickly at your side…apologizes to you so many times, even though he has done nothing wrong.
He is super careful, gives you several gentle kisses on the cheek and head of hair and swears to make the owner of the Haunted House suffer for putting you into premature labor.
“Luci….my Love, I don’t think it was the Haunted House’s fault….there are many reasons for a premature birth….we’ll be fine….will you stay with us….just a little bit, please Luci? I….am scared”, you whisper and grab your partner’s hands.
Lucifer stayed overnight.
The King of Hell had slept in a chair and you had woken up in a panic almost every time the machines used to monitor your daughter’s vital functions started beeping loudly.
Something else you’ll have to get used to…future false alarms, from the technical equipment while your baby is sleeping peacefully.
The nurses and the doctor treating you, are doing their best to take away your fear and worry...but mother and baby still have to stay in the hospital for a while...and it will be almost two weeks before Charlie and Vaggie can visit the intensive care unit.
"Naaaaaaw, she's so small and cute! Look at her Vaggie!", - cooed Charlie and could hardly tear himself away from the incubator and quietly talk to her little sister in baby talk , while Vaggie stood next to her partner.
Now that your body was feeling a little better, you sat down on one of the armchairs on Lucifer's lap and laid your head on his shoulder.
Your partner had been with you as often as possible at night, trying to support you where he could...and of course placed the large - congratulations it's a girl - gift basket from Ozzie and Fizzy in the room.
The sympathy for the birth of the other deadly sins was so heartwarming and the congratulations cards from the hotel residents, had made you cry tears of joy.
The public knew nothing about the premature princess. Lucifer, together with Queen Bee and Charlie, had silenced the media for the time being... you should enjoy and use the few weeks of peace that you still have left... because media hype and photos for the press were out of place.
"We don't have a name yet but... her middle name should be Charlotte" - you say and snuggle up to Lucifer, who lovingly strokes your hair. Which causes Charlie to let out an even more touched naaaaaw.
"Babe, we still have something for mother and child remember?", said Vaggie after another fifteen minutes in which Charlie had only looked devotedly at the sleeping baby in the incubator.
"Oh yes, of course... surprise!" - Charlie handed you a small bag.
You recognized the logo of the Halloween outfitter immediately.
Curiously, you reached into the bag and were able to pull out a set of three Halloween costumes.
"But these are..."
“Duck family costumes!” - Lucifer finished your sentence enthusiastically.
“Then you have a mama duck, daddy duck and baby duck for the coming next years Halloween!” - Charlie listed enthusiastically.
You didn't miss the fact that the princess' eyes started to light up when you said the word baby. Well, sounds like if someone start to get baby fever?
“Thanks Charlie and Vaggie... it's perfect!” - you thanked him and Lucifer also expressed his thanks.
“Then we already have a theme for the next year coming Halloween” - you said and looked lovingly at the baby duck costume... it would be a long time before your baby would fit into it.
“No haunted houses for the both you!” - Lucifer said seriously straight away.
You give him a loving kiss on the mouth and add the following sentence.
“I was thinking more of something like - Duck or Treat?”
THE END
AO3
#hazbin hotel characters#Lucifer x Reader#Lucifer x You#established relationship#hazbin hotel x reader#Halloween#Trick or Treat#Duck or Treat#Haunted House#Good Friend Niffty#pregnant#razzle hazbin hotel#dazzle hazbin hotel#charlie morningstar#vaggie hazbin hotel#parent lucifer morningstar#hospital#intensive care unit#premature baby ward#premature birth#fear#fanfiction#ao3 fanfic#hellaverse#angel dust#hazbin husk#spooky season#michael myers#halloween costumes#alastor the radio demon
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Can you do lucifer x trans female reader that lives in the hotel and has become Charlie’s mother figure while Lilith has been away, The reader when lucifer first comes to the hotel is like, “HOLY SHIT HES ADORABLE”. Then lucifer sees the reader and gets flustered himself.



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Nervous.
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Lucifer x trans!fem
Cw🚩: none :)
a/n: this was a cute idea! I haven't meant to put it off for other fics, it was just a bit difficult to write😭🙏 Anyway, hope you enjoy reading and just know I trieddd!!
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
You were a sinner at the Hazbin Hotel. You had been staying there a few months, but over that span of time, you and Charlie became inseparable. She would often ask you for afterlife advice, how to run the hotel better, or just for a chat. Since Lilith had left, she had no one to call a mother until she found you. She had no problem telling you how much you meant to her and vise versa.
It had been a while since you really felt alright talking to people about your gender identity, but with the people at the hotel...it felt like home. They would support you, comfort you, and help you become the person you wanted to be. To them, you were family, cisgendered or not.
It was a regular day in the hotel and you were helping Charlie clean up after a redemption activity. After cleaning, Charlie gathers up the residents of the Hotel. She looks at you nervously and you give her a smile to help her let out the words. "My father will be coming later tonight..it's just to talk about heaven stuff and meet you guys! Nothing much..he wont even be here for that long and he'll-" Charlie goes on.
Everyone ia mostly fine with this and also sorta exited to be meeting the King of Hell himself. A few hours pass and there's a knock at the hotel door. Charlie nervously opens. "Hey d-" "CHARLIE!!" Lucifer yells as he hugs his daughter tightly.
He looled exactly as described. Pale white skin, rosy cheeks, and slick back blonde hair. He was quite attractive not to lie...and short. Very short. He was introduced to all the residents, Angel, Husk, Niffty, Vaggie, Sir Pentious, Alastor (pure chaos), and then you. It went pretty well with most of them (except Al of course), but when he saw you...poof. You tried shaking his sweaty hand as you two blushed and smiled.
Yes, this was infact very akward.
Some time passed and he found himself trying to get to know you more. Charlie did have to pry him away from you a few times to go talk to the others. "So why ya' down here anyway, heh?" "What era were you from?" on, and on, and on. He was so invested in getting to know you and...you were just happy talking to him.
The night was starting to settle down and Lucifer was getting ready to leave. Everyone had sayd their goodbye's and right qhen you said it aswell and so did he. "Um...b-before I leave...could I possibly maybe slightly get your numberrrr?" you were stunned.
I mean, sure he was being extra nice to you, not really talking to anyone else, and trying to g- oh. He really liked you. "I- uh- sure!" You replied. Charlie's eyes shot open. Right as you two were exchanging phones, you stopped for a second.
"Wait."
He looked up slightly worried "Um..yes?" he asked. "You do know I'm not like..how do I say this...cis?" Lucifer chuckled. "Oh, darling, I don't care about that!" your face relaxes. He accepted you. "O-oh! Great then!" you said, obviously happy. He eventually did leave and you were in a great mood the rest of the night.
As the caring ainner you were, did go check if this was okay with Charlie after he did leave though. "It's fine! As long as you're happy, I'm happy. I was just a little suprised is all." she said, smiling. "You promise it's alright?" you ask anxiously.
"Promise."
‧͙⁺˚*・༓ Ars Goetia Reading Quarters (masterlist)
‧͙⁺˚*・༓Become apart of the Ars Goetia council (taglist)
#character x reader#hazbin hotel#fanfiction#hazbin fanfic#hazbin hotel fanfiction#fanfic#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar#Lucifer x trans female#Trans female#Helluva boss
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Unexpected Reunion 18+
Request:OMG ! I LOVE CONNOR RHODES ! Now you have me sending in an idea as well 😏 maybe where he and the reader meet at the Hawaii Bar and end up having a one night stand, but she leaves before he wakes up. Connor regrets that he doesn't even have her number, as he really wants to see her again. later at the Med it turns out she's his new assistant and they are more than happy about it 😊 some smut and a cute Connor ❤️ thank you darling !
Pairings: Connor Rhodes x Assistant!Reader
Warnings: smut, inaccurate medical talk, fluff, angst
A/N: My heart goes out to the people that are dealing with and have lost family members in the Hawaii fires.
Masterlist
Hawaii. Paradise on earth. A great place for a vacation. You had just recently finished medical school and had rewarded yourself with a trip to the Hawaii islands. You've been several times and each time it was great. Especially this particular day. You had come with friends and you all agreed to go out to several bars and try to see if you could score some hookups before you all left for Chicago the next day. You were going to be an assistant to some well-known there but you didn't know the name of this person or what he looked like.
You and your friends had decided to go to a bar on the beach and as you were doing shots and drinking, several men came up to you but you politely declined in your tipsy state.
You sat all by yourself at the bar while everyone else was on the dance floor. You were by yourself that was until a very handsome stranger came up to you. He was tall, broad-shouldered, had perfectly styled black hair, a little bit of scruff, and striking blue eyes. "Is this seat taken?" He asked and you actually looked around making sure he was talking to you.
"Oh! No, it's all yours." You said with a smirk and he let a bright dazzling smile and sat down next to you. The bartender walked up to you both.
"What will you be having?" The bartender asked.
"I'll be having an Old Fashioned and whatever this beautiful woman is having." He said directing the last part back to you. You blushed.
"You didn't have to do that." You told him and shook his head while waving off your comment.
"Nonsense. I'm Connor." He said with a smile and you smiled back.
"Well thank you, Connor. I'm Y/N." You told him.
"Y/N." He said testing it out on his lips and it flowed with ease "Such a beautiful name for such a beautiful woman." He said and you blushed again. "So what is a beautiful woman doing out in Hawaii by herself?" He asked you.
"I'm actually here with friends, who seem to all have disappeared." You said while looking around "We have just graduated medical school. What is a handsome guy doing out here?" You asked him back.
"Medical school? You must be one very smart beautiful woman. Congratulations you look like the medical field would fit you just right. I'm here for a medical conference that just finished up and decided to spend a few days here before going back to work." He said and you nodded your head. You both continued to talk for what seemed like hours but really was just a few minutes.
"Say, do you want to get out of here?" You asked him. Connor seemed to think about it and you thought you had made a wrong choice and was about to apologize and tell him to forget it but he answered before you could say anything.
"Absolutely. Especially with a beautiful girl like you. Your place or mine?" He asked and you blushed for the third time tonight.
"Yours." You said and he nodded. He flagged down the bartender and paid the tab for both him and you. You sent a text to your friends letting them know what was going on and that you would meet them in the lobby in the morning to catch your early flight back to Chicago. You instantly got several responses back all congratulating you and one even said to use protection, you laughed at that quietly and put your phone away. When he turned around to you after putting his card away and held his hand out to you. You accepted while slinging your purse over your shoulder.
"Are you ready, my lady?" He asked and you nodded and took his hand. He helped you get up and you both walked out of the bar. As you both waited for an Uber since you both had intended on drinking until you were drunk. While waiting for the Uber he turned to you. "Can I kiss you?" He asked and you nodded your head.
"Absolutely." You replied and he smashed his lips into yours soft at first but then getting heated pretty quickly. It left you dizzy.
The Uber arrived and you both got in, neither of you could keep your hands off of each other. You both tried to keep it Uber-friendly not wanting to make the driver feel awkward. It was only a 5-minute drive to your hotel. You both thanked your driver and paid a tip and he held your hand while you both walked into the hotel. You both walked to the elevator and it was game on.
Connor gently pushed you up against the back of the elevator and ferociously kissed you. You returned that kiss with the same amount of ferociousness. Connor decided right then and there that he loved you and wanted you. You were wearing a short black dress that fit you in all the right places.
You felt his hand travel down your side to the hem of the dress. He slid it up just enough to trail his hand up and to the hem of your underwear. You were soaking wet. Connor continued to kiss you and then his hand slowly crept into your underwear he pulled away. "Absolutely wet. All for me?" He asked and you moaned as a response. You brought your hand to his crotch and he was semi-hard, he was already big you just wondered how big he would be once fully erect, you rubbed him and he moaned into your neck while he attacked your neck with kisses and suckling on that sweet spot. His fingers slid through your wet folds and circled your clit every now and then. Then he slowly pushed his finger into your entrance your head went back and you let out a moan. The elevator finally dinged and Connor pulled away from your neck and out of you which you complained about, you were so close. He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked on them. "You taste exactly how I imagined." He said and you only moaned as a response. He slowly walked out of the elevator with you holding his hand and you walking in front of him.
He turned to where you were behind him and he was leading you with his hand in his and stretched out behind him. Both of your pupils were blown by this point. You and he reached his door and he got his key card out opened the door and led you into the room. Once you shut the door he turned and attacked you with kisses again. You dropped your purse. Now out of the public, he was about to message your breasts and you could be as loud as you wanted and you were loud. You made quick of his belt and his zipper, you broke the kiss and sank to the ground to your knees. You grabbed his boxers and pants and pulled them down until he sprung free fully erect, you were right he was big. "Like what you see?" He asked his voice gone gravely.
"Absolutely." You said and took him into your mouth and he moaned closing his eyes. Your mouth felt like heaven on his cock it took everything in him not to face fuck you and come right then and there. You kitten licked his slit and probed it with your tongue, his hands came to the back of your head but never pushed and his head was thrown back and mouth opened in a moan.
"Gosh, baby. You're absolutely amazing." He moaned out and looked down at you while you looked up at him through your eyelashes. You hallowed your cheeks and took him further until he reached the back of your throat, you were glad your gag reflex was nonexistent. You bobbed your head up and down and used one of your hands to massage his heavy sac and your other to pump the rest of his cock that wasn't able to fit into your mouth. After a minute you pulled away for air and a string of saliva was left. You were about to go back when he stopped you and pulled you up. "As much as I love you sucking my cock I need to taste you and get inside of you." He said and you moaned. He quickly shed his shirt, shoes, and socks and kicked his pants off and he started to help you out of your dress while doing so. He was thankful you weren't wearing a bra with your dress.
Connor slowly walked you to the bed and gently laid you down to where your head was on the pillow. The smell of his cologne filled your nose and you fell in love with it and right then and there you fell in love with him. You were zoned out until you felt him slide your heels off your feet and slid your underwear off and gently spread your legs. "You are beautiful. So wet for me." Connor said as he kissed the inside of your thighs altering between them until he got to where he wanted you the most and when he licked a broad stripe up folds you let out a photographic-worthy moan your hands clenched the bed sheets.
He ate you out like you were his last meal "Just like that." You told him and that made him go faster. His nose rubbed your clit and every now and then he would suck on it bringing you closer to orgasm "I'm close." You said.
"Let go, baby." He said while altering between licking up your slick and your clit until that rubber band snapped inside you and you came hard until you saw stars.
"Connor!" You moaned out. When you came down from your orgasm he was still eating you out. Your hands came to his head and pushed him further and spread your legs further, if he kept going at this rate you were going to cum again and sure enough that is what happened. As you were coming down from your second high of the night he had let up and was moving up to where his head was at your level and kissed you, at some point you had let go of his hair, and you tasted yourself. He pulled away from you when air was needed.
"Are you ready, baby?" Connor asked you and you nodded your head, he braced one arm next to your head and the other grabbed his cock and guided it to your entrance after rubbing it up and down your folds. He pushed in and you both moaned. You were no virgin but it had been a while since you had sex. "You're so tight." He moaned out and pushed further until he bottomed out.
"You're so big." You said while looking up at him. He kissed you again and rocked his hips into you. He smirked as he trailed kisses down your sternum to the valley of your breasts. He latched onto your right nipple, as he thrust into you, gently bit it, and then soothed it. Connor then switched to your other nipple and gave it the same attention.
"I'm close, baby." Connor said and you could tell because his thrusts were getting sloppily. Your hands found their way to his back and your nails raked down his back leaving long deep scratches down his back he hissed but then moaned. "I'm cumming." He told you and "Y/N!" He moaned out and he stilled inside you and pained your walls white. You had your third orgasm of the night and you were spent.
You both came down from your highs and you were shaking. He pulled out of you and rolled over the the left of you. "That was amazing, Connor." You told him and turned to kiss him which he returned.
"You were amazing too." He said and started getting up.
"Where are you going?" You asked rolling over back onto your back.
"I'm going to get a washcloth and clean you up. Aftercare is important to me." Connor said and that shocked you. Most of the time it's the guys cum and leave without getting you off. You were going to hate leaving him in the morning before he got up but knew a long-distance relationship wouldn't work. Connor came back and got to work on cleaning you up and you jumped when he swiped through your folds. "I'm sorry." He said but gently continued. You leaned up on your elbows.
"It's ok. I'm just a little over-sensitive." You said and he nodded saying he understood. When he got down he climbed back into bed after discarding the washcloth. He laid down and you snuggled into him. Small talk was thrown here and there until you both fell asleep.
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The next morning you woke up earlier than him. He had turned into the middle of the night to his back which made it easier to slip out of bed without him knowing. You quietly shuffled around and found your underwear and then your dress slipped them on and then grabbed your heels tiptoed to the door grabbed your purse and silently opened the door. You walked out silently closed the door and headed to the floor below, thankfully you were both in the same hotel.
You got into your room, took a shower, brushed your teeth, and got dressed. You packed everything up and headed down to the lobby where your friends were waiting. You all checked out and walked put of the building they asked for details and you gave them everything. You got several squeals from them.
You all landed in Chicago and started your journey home. When you got home you walked into your house, went up to your room and unpacked getting ready for the next day as an assistant at Chicago Med.
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When Connor woke up he turned to cuddle into you but was met by cold sheets. His eyes shot open and sat up, hoping you were in the bathroom or something but when he saw your things gone he was so disappointed. He really wished that he had gotten your number and it was tearing him apart.
He got up, showered, and got dressed while packing clothes. He grabbed his suitcase once it was packed and headed down to the lobby. You were and would be on his mind all the time now. He got to the lobby and checked out, he thought about asking the front desk if you were still there but it was pointless he was leaving in a few hours.
Connor landed in Chicago and headed out of the airport. He got to his car unlocked it, got in, and started the engine while shutting the door. He pulled out of the space and headed home. Once he got there he parked the car, killed the engine, and got out. He went into his home and got ready for work the next day.
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The next day you walked into the hospital walked up to the front desk asked where Mrs. Goodwin's office and they told you. You followed the directions and found her office fairly easy. You knocked on the door and she called you in.
"Mrs. Goodwin, I'm Y/N Y/L/N the new assistant you hired." You said as you walked in and shut the door. You walked over to her desk as she stood up and held out her hand for you to shake and you did.
"Oh yes! Ms. Y/L/N, I'm so excited to finally meet you. You'll make a good asset to this team. You're going to be an assistant to Connor Rhodes. He'll be here in a minute." She said and you smiled as she let go of your hand and gestured you to sit down. You didn't think you would see Connor again much less be his assistant. You couldn't let her know that you already knew him so you just smiled and nodded.
"I'm excited that you hired me. This hospital was one of my top picks. I'm also looking forward to meeting him and the rest of the team." You said, and when you finished, someone knocked on the door, and she called them in. You looked over your shoulder, smiling to see Connor walk through the doors, and you could see him falter but only you noticed.
"Dr. Rhodes! I would like you to meet your new assistant, PA. Y/N Y/L/N." Mrs. Goodwin said and you stood up and shook his hand which he gladly did.
"Nice to meet you Dr. Rhodes." You said and smiled.
"You too." He said smiling and you let go of each other's hands.
"Now that you two know each other. Why don't you show her around and introduce her to everyone?" She asked Connor and he nodded.
"Of course." He said without looking away from you, and finally, he broke eye contact to lead the way to the door and opened the door for you to walk out. You shut the door when you walked out. You walked further into the hospital until you got to the locker rooms, and he made sure nobody was in there before dragging you in. "I thought you were gone for good." He said and breathlessly.
"I'm here now." You said looking into his striking blue eyes.
"Why did you leave?" He asked sounding hurt.
"I didn't think a long-distance relationship would've worked and I didn't know you were a doctor here in Chicago." You said.
"I'm just glad you're here now. This is definitely an unexpected reunion." He said and you nodded.
"I can agree with that." You said
"Can I kiss you?" He asked and you nodded way to fast and answered way too fast.
"Absolutely." You said and he smashed his lips to yours ferociously you returned it with the same amount of ferociousness. His hands came to your face and cupped it, gently pushing you against the lockers. You both pulled away when the need for air was needed.
"Never leave me again, please." He said and you nodded.
"You're stuck with me now." You said and he smiled and you returned it.
Connor made sure he got your number this time. He continued showing you around the hospital and introducing everyone to you. His mood was soured when he came into work but now that he knew you weren't going anywhere he was happy. Hopefully, he could take you out on a proper date and ask you to be his girlfriend. Both you and Connor were happy to be back in each other's presence again. You and him were meant to be together.
Tag list:
@kmc1989
@els-marvelvsp
@atarmychick007
@nyx2021
#connor rhodes x reader#connor rhodes imagine#connor rhodes fanfic#connor rhodes fic#one chicago imagine#one chicago fanfiction#one chicago x reader#chicago med imagine#chicago med x reader#chicago med#chicago med fan fic#chicago med fic
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Who wants a little solarnexus wip that i did in like September and then writers block hit me again so I havnt worked on in forever? (This is unedited af so I apologize for bad grammar)
He was awake.
That fact still was disturbing to Solar. He was supposed to be dead.
The only thing worse than knowing that he was alive, was knowing that Nexus was dead to the rest of the family.
Finding out about his best friend's betrayal had been confusing and almost enraging. He still didn't fully believe it, and he didn't trust Old Moon. He'd heard so many stories about him. How he had manipulated and abused Sun; he had no reason to trust him. It was even more off-putting how.. friendly he was with everyone, and how friendly everyone was right back. How they lived in a new house with completely new stuff.. It was like his darling Moon never existed…
Right, his name was Nexus now. Old Moon had called it edgy, but honestly? Solar found it fitting. The entirety of time and space, that's how he saw himself. He wasn't a rock relying on something larger to keep himself steady, he was independent. He was a large entity of order and chaos.
Solar could bet he was still the same sweetheart underneath it though.
Maybe it was a bit edgy, but it was sweet. Cute, even. Nexus had always been adorable. God Solar just wanted to hold him close and kiss him and-
….
Wait, where had that though come from?
He wasn't able to think too far into it, however, a knock on the door startling him. He stood up quickly from where he was sitting on the bed, like it was a crime to be sitting. "Come in!"
The door cracked open, and a tan face with 7 bronze rays peaked his head inside "Hey, Solar.. how are you holding up?"
Sun's voice had always been a place of uncertainty for Solar, but luckily over the time he's known him its become deeper. Less like his own Sunnys, now filled with so much more exhaustion. It was concerning, but also relieving.
Solar shrugged, still. "Fine. Just been.." he trailed off. What was he going to say? Thinking about how much he still cared about the brother who betrayed him? No, that would be insensitive. He didn't want to upset them and push them away, he already did that enough already (way to much first impressions with Old Moon)
"Just been-?" Sun prompted, a dark eyebrow raising in question.
Solar shifted uncomfortably "Just been sitting here. Just- thinking over all this." It wasn't a lie, Sun just didn't need to know what 'this' entailed.
Luckily the other yellower solar bot just nodded in understanding. "Alright. If you ever need anything, you can just get me or Moon, alright?"
"Alright.." solar already knew he wouldn't be daring to bother either of them with his problems. He didn't want to bother Sun or put more stress on him, and he didn't trust Moon as far as he could throw him.
The door clicked closed once more as Sun left, and Solar found himself relaxing, sitting back on the bed. He already had been tense around Sun in general, but now he just.. he couldn't trust him anymore. He didn't trust how Old Moon influenced him, especially with how he referred to old Moon as just 'Moon', as if Nexus never existed. As if there wasn't a previous owner of that title.
Solar had generally been avoiding the family. He seemed to be the only one who second guessed Nexus's situation. Everyone else seemed perfectly content thinking he was completely in the wrong and was just a villain now, but.. Solar wasn't so sure.
After all, he had teamed up with someone who violated his systems and memories. Who had manipulated them all like puppets. Who Nexus had ranted to Solar about how he hated.
There was no way that was the same Nexus. He was a bit slow, but he wasn't stupid. Or gullible.
No… something must have happened. A virus, maybe. Or dark sun manipulated him into whatever he did. But solar had a hard time believing he did it using his own free will. Not just because Nexus was a 'nice guy', but also because that just.. wasn't him. The goal most important to him was keeping his family safe and making them happy, and threatening Earth just… it didn't fit that bill.
Whatever it was, Solar was determined to figure it out. Using what people told him, security footage, or even tracking Nexus down himself. It didn't matter, he needed the trust. He.. he needed to prove him innocent. And he needed to do it secretly. He didn't need the rest of the family finding out and resenting him for it. What if they saw him as a villain too? Locked him up, or banished him to space? No, he couldn't help Nexus like that. He needed to be discreet about this.
He stared at the wall, quiet as he thought. He needed to figure out a plan. Maybe he should listen to everyone's sides of the story, with the excuse of curiosity? (Which wasn't a lie, he was curious.) Maybe check security footage after, possibly even getting Jack to spy in the rest of the family? It was.. well, wrong. But he needed Nexus back. He had to prove his innocence.
The final step of course would be to find the villainized bot himself, and Solar was a lot less confident in that step. He wasn't really afraid of him, no, but he was uncertain. He didn't even know yet if he could help him at all. If he could save him from whatever was happening to him.
Okay, maybe he'll have to make up the plan as he goes just a bit. But he had a good, solid foundation in his head for now.
He hoped he could truly unravel the mystery in time. He didn't want Nexus hurt…
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