#so many peeps following me and almost no one talks to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jaegeraether · 1 year ago

Text

Sunsets and footballers (Part 33)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (31) & Alexia Putellas x Character (5)

Masterlist (other parts here)

(Only a little piece of Alexia in here...)

((**Any theories on who Joe is, send me a DM xD**))

YFN woke around 8:30am, having a decent sleep after her long day. She’d slept the best she had done in a week, and the only explanation was the warm right-back who was now gone. It was a disappointing feeling, waking to feel her not there, yet was superseded by the feeling of peace and security that came with the conversation she’d had the night before with Lucy. Lucy. She’d be halfway to Barcelona by now. She rolled over and could still smell Lucy there as if she’d only left a few minutes ago. She must be so tired, she thought, hoping she’d be able to sleep on the plane.

She woke and had her shower, letting herself chuckle a little at Lucy’s blue toothbrush and made her way out to the kitchen to find a note from Lucy on the kitchen island.

Good morning, little one.

You have no idea how difficult it was to leave you in bed this morning.

I ordered breakfast for you for 9am. I hope I got the timing right and they don’t wake you up.

Have a great day, please; I know I will now that I’ve seen you.

Remember: I won’t have a phone until the end of today or tomorrow… and please also remember to cancel the company car.

PS: I love you, and don't worry, you were too tired to talk in your sleep last night.

Lucy x

God, that woman. She pulled the piece of paper to her chest and held it there, unable to contain her smile. She looked at the time. It was almost 9am. Lucy knew she only slept seven or eight hours a night and had, of course, timed it perfectly.

She checked her phone and the first thing she did was respond to Joe.

Joe: Which do you like best?

Joe had sent a few links to cars.

YFN: I’m sorry, Joe. Please disregard. No need for a car. Do you have time for a phone call this morning?

Joe: Copy that. I’ll call in ten.

She went back to her other messages and emails which mainly concerned the edits that her colleagues had done. One by one, she approved them to be posted to social media. This first round had been a test for many things, one being the editing following the collection of footage at the games. She’d expected there to be some need for notes or changes, but she didn’t find any. Joe really had chosen some talented individuals.

Lumos group chat: YFN: Morning all! First round was a success! Fantastic job, everyone. The footage we’ve collected is remarkable. I’m happy for all of these to be posted today. As for the interviews, I’ve reached out for players approval and will post them once I have them.

Again, fantastic work, and a reminder to ensure we’ve sent the personal videos and photos to the players for their own use.

Our goal for next round is to post real time recordings of the game, goals and significant events.

Any suggestions, feel free to let me know!

The group chat started responding eagerly as a knock came at the front door. YFN jumped until she realised it would be breakfast. She checked through the peep hole before she collected it.

Lucy had ordered her an acai bowl, juice, and more of the banana bread she’d loved from last night. She dug in, hoping Lucy had a chance to eat before training. Her phone started buzzing and she dropped her spoon to pick it up.

“Morning, Joe.”

“YFN! Good morning, how are you after yesterday? I imagine you slept well.”

“You’re not wrong there!” She laughed. “It took a lot more out of me than I realised, Joe! But on a positive note, I think it was a success.”

“I think you’re being a bit modest there! I’ve seen everything and I’m beyond impressed. Whatever you’ve done to prepare all week was excellent, just excellent! And your interview with the Arsenal and Man City players? Brilliant. I know it was thrown at you last minute, but I really liked the way it was more of a casual conversation than asking generic questions. It really brought out the characters of the players.”

“Oh, I agree. Even if I did have time to prep questions, I still would have let them talk about what they wanted and just steer them ever so gently within the lines we wanted. I’m also a big fan of interviewing multiple players at once. They bounce off of each other well, even if they are opposite teams.”

“I was going to mention that! It’s the first time opposition players have been interviewed after a match together, yes? I love the dynamic. As for the other footage… I want to scale this up already. Did you want to talk about extra people to cover more of the games?”

YFN could hear that Joe was excited and knew that she’d give her absolutely anything she wanted. But that’s not what this conversation was about.

“Actually, Joe, I wanted to talk to you about something else..”

“Fire away, anything you want.”

YFN explained her meeting Mark at the charity event, about the photographer with Mark at the game last night, and then how she was followed. There was a long period of silence at the other end until she sighed.

“I knew this would be an issue, I just hoped it wouldn’t happen until later on.” She admitted. “Firstly, they won’t hurt you. Think of them as paparazzi. Mark is competition of mine when it comes to business, and he uses his PIs to try and get controversial gossip to undermine my business and partnerships. Saying that, I’d really like to apologise to you for putting you in this situation. Like I said, I hoped we’d be much more established by the time they came after us.”

“That’s a relief to hear, Joe. I’m glad they’re just that and not lunatics. I’ve dealt with too many of those lately.”

“Yes, yes you have.”

YFN hesitated. There was still an unanswered question there. “Joe… what did Mark mean when he said you would bring controversy to the business if people knew you were involved?”

She knew it was a personal question, and fully expected her to respond by saying he was lying. But she didn’t, because she was Joe and she was an honest woman. YFN trusted her.

She gave another heavy sigh. “Okay… okay. I think you need to know. It’s going to be much easier to explain in person. Are you able to get on a flight to my house tonight?”

She wasn’t expecting that. She didn’t care where she lived, she would go. Half out of curiosity to meet the woman, and half for the mystery. “Of course. I can fly from London or Birmingham.”

“Okay, if you head back to Birmingham today, I’ll have my assistant send you flight details for a flight out of Birmingham tonight. You can stay with me a few days. This will be good to fully discuss our future plans together and lay bare my hand. I have to go into a meeting now, but I’ll see you tonight, YFN. Great work again!”

The call ended after their goodbyes and it just left YFN even more curious. She truly didn’t know the woman, and the next few days would certainly be interesting to say the least.

“Lucia.” The teasing voice came from behind.

Lucy turned around as Alexia wandered over to her at the stretching station.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?”

“Because I think your London trip went well, si?” Alexia held that teasing expression. She wasn’t wrong. Besides the long day and minimal sleep, she had been in the best mood she had been for days. Alexia stepped forwards and slapped her face lightly like a proud adult. “The grin is back.”

Lucy tried to get rid of it, but she just couldn��t. If anything, it got wider.

“Thank you for your help, I definitely feel a lot better.”

Alexia tilted her head, giving her a cheeky look that seemed to assume sex had made her this happy. Lucy rolled her eyes at that. They’d definitely gotten a lot closer in the past few days, having supported each other through their relationship issues. “It’s not what you think.”

Alexia’s expression said she didn’t believe her one bit. Her head stayed tilted, her expression cheeky and knowing, and her lips remained a more subtle version of the Cheshire cat.

Lucy laughed and shoved her lightly. “I promise! We just talked and sorted everything out.”

“You feel better?”

“Oh, yes. You get to meet her in six days when she comes to Barca.”

“I look forward to meeting her..”

It made Lucy happy to see Alexia smiling. “And how goes your woman?”

Her smile faltered a little. “We have training-”

“Don’t you back out now. You had a plan.”

“Si, si. But we need to train and the game is Saturday.”

“Saturday afternoon.” Lucy clarified. “So there’s no reason you can’t go on Friday night..”

Alexia thought on it for a few seconds.

“Alexia, Lucy!” Jonatan reminded, pointing to the mats.

They took the hint and began stretching themselves out, both starting with their bad knees. Lucy’s felt much better after YFN had massaged it the night before, and she swear she could have come just from the release of pressure and feel of her hands on her. If only they’d wandered further up-

She caught herself and made herself stop. She was at training. She looked at Alexia who was now rolling her calf and thinking still.

“Would you like me to come?”

Alexia turned to Lucy, surprised. They didn’t usually do things together like that unless they were in a group, but perhaps it was time for that to change.

“Okay,” she said after another few seconds of thought.

“We won’t get drunk or do anything stupid. We’ll just go and have a chat and dinner and see if she turns up.”

“She…might not.”

“And that’s more than okay. We’ll have a good little date out, regardless, yeah?”

“Okay, Lucia. But only if you tell your girlfriend so she doesn’t break her phone if she sees photos.”

Lucy gave a sheepish smile. “She’s a lot better with her emotions than I am.”

“She sounds perfect for you.”

“Are we talking about YFN?” Kiera asked as she walked over and joined in.

“Si.”

“I haven’t met her yet, but Leah says they’re pretty adorable together.”

“I’m right here.” Lucy reminded.

“I know.” Kiera said, giving a little head pat. “But it’s more fun to talk over you.”

Lucy appreciated their relationship and how there wasn’t any jealously, they truly did want the best for each other.

“Are we meeting her this weekend?”

“Who are we meeting this weekend?” Mapi asked as she and Ona joined their ever-extending stretching line. Lucy looked at Ona who seemed curious at their conversation. She hadn’t had the opportunity to talk to her yet as she had arrived late, but she would. She made sure to give her a little smile, knowing it wouldn’t make up for how distant she’d been the past few days.

“Lucy’s girlfriend.”

Ona pouted. She wasn’t unaware of her because she must have seen Lucy’s posts on Instagram, but she still couldn’t help the look of disappointment on her face.

“She’s coming this weekend?” Mapi asked, completely unaware of Ona’s feelings next to her.

“Si,” Alexia said, sharing a look with Lucy that said she’d also noted Ona’s expression. Alexia changed the topic back to their strategies and training, a smart Captain manoeuvre around the previous topic.

YFN received her flight details not long after she’d finished her breakfast. Joe was definitely efficient. She was originally worried at her late flight time, 7pm, until she realised where it was to. Edinburgh. If she’d driven, it would have taken her over eight hours, so she appreciated the flight. Realising she had time to spare, she took her time to shower and pack up before messaging a few fellow Aussies about popping by.

Caitlin: See you soon, chicken! Warning: Kyra seems eager to see you. She’s in her annoying mood.

Erin Cuthbert: All good to pop by, bring snacks and Emma will fall in love with you.

Mackenzie: See you soon, I’ll let the girls know.

Caitlin had introduced YFN to Mackenzie Arnold, Captain of West Ham and goalkeeper of both West Ham and the Matildas during their dinner, and she hadn’t had a chance to see her play during the round so she figured she’d stop by to network and become more of a regular around the players.

She stopped by Chelsea first located south west of London at Cobham as it was the closest. Erin was right, Emma did appreciate the snacks, though she had to sneak some to the players when she wasn’t looking. She had a good catch up with the players and before that, she actually had a fantastic conversation with Emma Hayes. Emma was the manager for Chelsea, notorious for being hard, yet caring for her team. She was one of the best managers in the sport and had led the team to four consecutive WSL victories. When she spoke, it was slow but so excellently worded that everybody stopped to listen, including YFN even as they were alone on the sidelines.

“What you’re doing is so important for these players.” Her accent was rich and unapologetic. “I can’t say I’ve met Joe but I’ve heard of her, and she’s going to be the best thing to happen to this sport in a long time. If she’s chosen you to lead the way, then I know you must be excellent at what you do.”

YFN took the compliment with a smile. They’d been standing on the sidelines, Emma pointing out how they trained and worked strategies and weaknesses. It was all so interesting to her, and she assumed that Emma had appreciated her interest and questions from the compliment she’d just given her.

“I appreciate that, thank you Emma. You don’t think my lack of knowledge in the sport is a weakness?”

“Nah, not at all. I think that’s one of the reasons she chose you. You bring a new perspective. I saw the interviews you did with the other teams, Arsenal, United and such. They were a breath of fresh air to be fair. I’m sick of arguing with media.”

YFN chuckled. “Are they that bad?”

“Oh, sure. And just asking stuuupid fucking questions.”

Emma yelled advice at one of the players across the pitch who put their hand up in acknowledgement.

They spoke for a bit longer, really getting into some deep-seeded issues with media, and needed improvements for the womens game when one of the assistant coaches blew the whistle. Training break. Somehow, Emma had been so inspired by their conversation that she suggested YFN talk to the girls before they had a debrief. She obliged.

YFN had met most of the girls: Millie Bright, Erin Cuthbert, Hannah Hampton, Zecira Musovic, Jess Carter, Niamh Charles, Fran Kirby, Jess Fleming, the list goes on. She was actually quite surprised to see that she only hadn’t met a few of them. Emma gave her a lovely introduction and YFN made herself comfortable on a stool up the front as she dove into a conversation with the group about media and how to make them more comfortable. They had a lot of suggestions, even Emma looking impressed at their eagerness. They spoke for a good half an hour before YFN wrapped it up before it turned into too much banter and ate into Emma’s time. She’d written a lot of notes down and made sure to tell them to message her or come over for a chat at a game anytime.

With that, she took her leave for West Ham over at Chadwell Heath by 11am. Mackenzie was the first to greet her as they were on their lunch break. She was much taller than YFN who had to reach to the sky just to hug her, but she bent down for her.

“I’m used to it with this one!” She’d said, pointing to Kirsty Smith, her partner. Kirsty was Scottish and they’d been dating for over two years. Mackenzie had that sarcastic, Australian sense of humour YFN missed, though she was so soft around Kirsty. It made her think of Lucy.

They let her join for lunch, introducing her to the staff and players. YFN made sure to say hello to their manager, Rehanne Skinner for Emma just as she’d requested. There were only a handful of female managers in WSL, Emma had pointed out, and they supported each other. She also mentioned that Rehanne was a great manager, which was a big compliment from her.

The West Ham team seemed a lot more relaxed than the Chelsea environment, all with their own ambitions and goals. She was introduced around, having a good chat to the team and enjoying her catch up with the young Riko Ueki again who seemed excited to see her. Her most entertaining conversation, however, was with Hawa Cissoko who was a strong French and Malian defender, and notorious for her red cards. She was very vocal about racial abuse and asked YFN to bring awareness to it when possible.

YFN loved the dynamic of the West Ham team, there was such a mix of different nationalities and personalities and she especially appreciated Mackenzie and how she took care of them like a mother bird, especially the shyer players like Riko who was introverted and still a little shy speaking English at times. After joining them for their Subway lunch, and talking around the group for just over an hour, she was off to her final stop.

Her Arsenal girls were at the end of their training day, definitely slowing down and ready for the day to end. Kyra, however, was as young and eager as ever, especially when she saw YFN. Jonas drove YFN down to the field in a golf cart, dropping her off and she barely exited the vehicle when the young midfielder landed on her back, limbs wrapped around her like a spider. YFN was only small and barely managed to stay upright.

“I was told you’re in an annoying mood.”

“That’s rude.”

YFN laughed and hugged the limbs around her. “How are you, little sis?”

“Great! Can I ask you a favour before the girls get here?” She asked into her ear, her chin resting on her shoulder.

“Sure, mate.”

“At the game this weekend…can you ask for Courtney and I to be interviewed together?”

YFN paused. She hadn’t even thought about interviews yet.

She continued. “I don’t care if it’s in a group of us.”

“I can do just you two alone..” She offered. Thinking about it, it would be good to do a young player interview, and then a similar one with older players like Kim Little and Aileen Whelan.

“Can you?!” She squeaked and dropped off of her back as Katie jabbed her in the ribs.

“Chicken!” She was enveloped by the girls.

“Ew, you smell like Chelsea mate.” Caitlin said, scrunching up her nose fakely. YFN rolled her eyes.

“Calm down, mate.”

“We’re pretty much done with trainin’ today,” Katie said as she swung an arm over her shoulder and pulled her along as they began walking back towards the building. “I spoke to Kim and the girls are all keen for a chat.”

Although she didn’t have a favourite team, it was becoming more and more difficult not to as Arsenal had a lot of her heart. The players were all so free to be themselves, and she knew a lot of that was due to Kim and Katie who were the leadership within the team. They made sure it was a safe space and everyone could not only work hard but have fun also. Her chats with the group was more like a night out at town and she had to steer the conversation back to relevance a few more times than with the other teams that day. They all got along well, yet they all also had their little clicks that overlapped a lot. Beth and Viv. Beth, Jen and Steph. Katie and Caitlin. Caitlin, Steph and Kyra. Kyra and Alessia. Alessia and Katie. Alessia and Vic. She was caught unawares by Leah also being there, though she knew she shouldn’t have been surprised. Leah was already back up and running with the team, just not training fully yet. When she saw YFN, she came over for a polite hug and a few pleasantries. YFN could see she wanted to talk about Jordan, but they were too swamped by the eager girls wanting to talk to YFN about interviews, photos and such. She gave her an apologetic smile and made her way around the group for a few hours, or to be more precise, she sat in the same spot as the girls rotated through.

By 2pm she called it, saying goodbye to the team and collecting more than a few hugs on her way out. Her favourite though was the little head taps by Steph.

YFN was loading her work bag into the car when she heard a voice behind her.

“Do you think she’d be mad if I stopped by tonight?”

She turned around to see Leah looking like she needed some advice. “Do you two not have a day to catch up organised?”

“This Friday..”

YFN understood all too well why she didn’t want to wait any longer. “Leah… talk to her. Just talk. If Friday is too far away, then ask her for something sooner.”

“I don’t want to push her. Besides, you can be mediator tonight? That will ease tension a little.”

“Ah, that’s why you’re asking me. Well… I’m not sure if she’d be mad, however I won’t be there tonight.”

“Oh! Spain already?”

“No, Lucy was here last night. Edinburgh actually.”

Leah’s eyebrows shot up. “Lucy was here last night?!”

“Just for a few hours.”

“That’s why you look so happy.” She smirked.

“Don’t do that.” She laughed. “We just had a few things to sort out, as you know.”

“All sorted?”

She nodded. “Better than ever. I’m going to Barca on Friday.”

“What time are you flying out tonight?”

“7pm?”

“Okay… okay I can wait until Friday. I don’t want to mess this up.”

YFN gave her a supportive hug. “You won’t, Leah.”

YFN’S bag was packed for a few days, the peace lily Lucy had gifted her was watered, she’d cuddled with Blu and was just sitting down to an early dinner with Jordan as there came a knock at the door. They looked at each other confused. YFN shrugged and got up. She checked through the peep hole and sighed before opening the door.

“Turns out I can’t wait until Friday…” Leah said apologetically, a bouquet of flowers in her hand.

YFN bit her lip, thinking, and then stepped to the side. She wondered what Jordan’s reaction would be. Leah stepped in slowly and YFN closed the door behind her, leading her to the dining table.

“Who was it?” Jordan asked and turned around, freezing on the spot. Her eyes widened. She hadn’t expected that. Leah stood awkwardly with the flowers and YFN wanted to disappear.

“Uh…” Jordan struggled to find words.

YFN tried to break the tension. “Do you like ravioli, Leah?”

Leah nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay…I’ll get you a bowl.” She looked at Jordan and gestured to Leah as if to say ‘be nice’.

“They’re pretty.” Jordan said.

“They’re for you.”

Jordan stood and YFN watched as she walked over and took them from Leah, their fingers softly grazing over each other. Both reacted physically to it. “I’ll put them in water. Take a seat.”

Leah sat down as Jordan went to the kitchen to find a vase. “What’s she doing here?!”

“I don’t know.” YFN whispered back. “She said she couldn’t wait until Friday, remember?”

“What am I supposed to say?”

YFN looked at the clock. “We need to go in thirty minutes, can we just talk about football, then you two can do all the talking you want without me.”

Dinner was mainly talking about their days, and YFN’s experiences around the different clubs. It started off awkward, but definitely became a lot more casual. Like roommates having dinner. YFN didn’t realise, but Jordan appreciated her there for the awkward part. Now when she dropped her at the airport, they would have avoided most of that.

Leah helped Jordan clean up, working together at the sink to wash and dry as YFN collected her belongings for the airport. The car ride was funny, Leah in the back listening silently to Jordan telling YFN to be safe and message her if she needed anything. Jordan had been extra protective since hearing about Mark and his friend, as well as Kristie being a maniac as per usual. Leah hadn’t seen that side to Jordan much, and she listened with interest. They dropped her at the airport and YFN gave Jordan and apologetic look before she hugged her, whispering in her ear.

“She loves you, Dory. Just be patient and be honest with what you need, okay? I’m a phone call away.”

Jordan’s hug tightened, nodding into her shoulder.

“Also, if she doesn’t sleep in your bed, she’s more than welcome to sleep in mine.”

Jordan scoffed and pulled away with a grin, slapping her arm.

“What? You have needs.”

She turned to Leah and gave her a hug and Jordan jumped back into the drivers seat. “She’s just as nervous as you are, Leah. Communicate, okay?”

“Thanks, YFN. Fly safe.”

“You’re welcome. And I’ll definitely try.”

The flight was short, barely an hour, and unfortunately it was too dark to see Edinburgh as they descended through the clouds. YFN hadn’t known what to expect once she arrived, the only note in her flight details being ‘private car hire to meet at airport.’ She exited with her smaller carry-on suitcase and immediately saw the sign with her name on it. The driver looked professional in his suit and insisted on taking her luggage. He introduced himself as David and was a polite, middle-aged gentleman who guided her into the backseat of the dark Mercedes before taking his place in the driver’s seat.

“How long is the drive?”

“Just over an hour, ma’am.”

An hour?!

“Do you know Joe?”

“I do. I’ve worked with her for quite a few years now.”

“How would you describe her?”

“She’s a smart businesswoman. A great mother. A role-model. A creative genius. She’s kind and very well read.”

“Did she…tell you anything about me?”

“Oh, I know all about you, ma’am. It’s wonderful what you are doing together. My daughters are still young and love playing football. We need this exposure, so they have a better pathway and more incentive.”

He knew all about her? What they were doing?

“Do you know why I’m here?”

David paused. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Is there anything you can tell me before we get there?”

“That’s really not for me to say, ma’am. It will all make sense when we arrive.”

What was this big secret?

They spoke a little more during the drive, YFN a little tired as they passed the 9pm mark. Eventually they turned off of the bitumen road and onto a long gravel driveway. She watched as a large estate came into view, still very much lit up, the warm lights escaping through the many windows of the large stone building. If she had to describe it, she’d say it was almost gothic, though repurposed to suit an English ambiance.

David stopped at the front of the steps leading up to the entrance. He insisted that YFN go ahead, claiming he’d take her bag to her room for her.

She walked up the steps, not knowing what she was getting herself into and as she raised her hand to knock, the door swung open. A man stood there, looking just as neat and tidy as David.

“YFN, lovely to meet you. Welcome. My name is Benjamin, and I’m the estate manager. Please come in.”

YFN smiled and introduced herself, entering and found her eyes were immediately wandering, looking up down, all around at the architecture of the place. Although an old building, it had modern refurbishments and she couldn't help but appreciate it, but also wonder at its cost. Where was she? Did Joe have some sort of link to royalty? Nothing else made sense. Until it did.

“You made it.” YFN turned to the voice she’d heard several times on the phone and whatever she was expecting, it wasn’t that. Her mouth physically dropped.

It all made sense now. The company. The secrecy. The controversy. The fact that they’d never met before. Why she’d hired her, a writer, in the first place, of all people.

Holy shit. It can’t be.

175 notes · View notes

arvandus · 1 year ago

Text

The Divine

Barbatos (Obey Me!) x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: 18+ content! Minors DNI and DO NOT follow my blog! All minor and ageless blogs will be blocked! Fem!Reader (dress, heels, fem-coded terms of endearment, etc.), AFAB!Reader, short-coded reader (but Barb's a demon so we can say "magic!" and just suspend disbelief; aka let's pretend they can adjust their own height if they want); friends to lovers, romance, hurt/comfort, first date, lots and lots of talking, first kiss and first (and second) time together (aww yissss), questionable uses for a tail, vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), clit stim, shared bath, reader goes pee (is this an issue for people...? practice good sex hygiene, peeps!), reader gets carried (he got that demon strength, babyyy), rough(ish) sex (did I mention demon strength??). UHHH I think that's it. This is long as hell, almost 15k GOOD LUCK BYE.

Author's Note: This is my submission for The Coffee Corner's "Slice of Life" Collab Event! There are so many amazing writers, please go check it out and see if there's anything that piques your interest!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The opera house was filling up quickly, hundreds of demons taking their seats. Barbatos was calm and efficient in finding yours amongst the bustling of busy bodies. They were excellent seats, to be expected from Lord Diavolo’s butler who prided himself on his perfection. Not too close, not too far, and located central enough without having to climb over multiple sets of legs if you needed to step away at all during the performance.

Barbatos helped you to your seat first, his hand gently placed on your lower back, before sitting down next to you.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

You nodded with a smile. “Very much so, thank you.”

You normally weren’t so formal with him. After all, you’d known each other for more than a year during your time here in the Devildom and been on many outings together as acquaintances and later as friends. But there had always been a wall in place, a boundary that was never crossed nor spoken of.

Barbatos was kind, polite, and witty; he was caring and doting, a perfectionist, and by far one of the most mature demons you’d had the pleasure of getting to know. However, despite all of that, Barbatos was also a private individual, even when he freely provided facts about himself and his interests, and was forthcoming with his motivations. No matter how much he exposed, there always seemed to be far more lurking beneath the surface that was left unsaid. Add in the fact that he took his job as Lord Diavolo’s private butler so seriously, and it sometimes made it difficult to distinguish his acts of kindness as obligation versus personal desire. No matter how kind or sweet his words were, no matter how close you felt with him at any given moment, you were always, always aware that he kept himself at a distance. It made your own affections for him feel one-sided, a heavy gift you held in shaky hands with nowhere to put it.

You’d always had the keen sense that he knew, of course; you weren’t exactly good at hiding it. But he’d never acknowledged it, at least not out-right; even though you could have sworn there were times where you felt his eyes on you when you weren’t looking, or moments where he held your gaze for longer than necessary. But each time, you’d written it off as wishful thinking, your heart desperately looking for patterns within the random coincidences of life.

But now, things were different. They had been, ever since that moment he’d plucked that leaf out of your hair with soft affection in his eyes, followed by a quick stolen glance at your parted, stunned lips. It was all the evidence you needed, and all the evidence that you’d likely get, to know that Barbatos was harboring a flame of his own. After all, you’d only seen it because he’d let you see it. You had acted on it immediately, the invitation to dinner tumbling from your lips in place of a confession. He had accepted with a smile, and you could still feel the elation weaved into your chest like a keepsake as you revisited the memory.

You were yanked from the heart-pounding past to the nerve-wracking present when Barbatos’s fingers intertwined with yours. Your pulse quickened at the contact. The touch of his skin against yours was so intimate and new, that it felt foreign and strangely forbidden.

“I’m glad you were able to join me,” he said. “I apologize that the invitation was so last minute. There were... complications.”

You gave a small, teasing laugh, more to trick your own nerves than anything else. “You act as if we haven’t gone out together before. And I don’t mind last minute; spontaneity keeps things fun.”

Your words felt like lies, a feigned nonchalance in the face of what was so obviously a shift in your relationship with each other, a testing of deeper waters.

“True,” he said. “But this time is different, isn’t it?”

It was so like him to say outright what was already in your mind. Yet he always managed to do it with such simplicity that it stripped away the anxiety while still leaving the importance. You swallowed the dryness in your throat and gave a small nod.

He was correct, of course... this - whatever it was – was still very much new for the both of you.

“Besides,” he continued, his lips curving playfully, “it has been some time since we’ve had the pleasure of each other’s company.”

“Four weeks,” you blurted out. Then you clamped your lips shut in embarrassment.

He gave a soft laugh. “Three weeks and six days, to be exact.”

You gave him a surprised glance. “But who’s counting?” you teased.

Barbatos smiled. “I often find myself counting the time when we are apart.”

Your body grew hot at his confession, his words vibrating against your skin as they buried themselves into you, becoming a part of you. No doubt you will be reflecting on that single line for days to come.

Barbatos watched the change in your expression with intrigue.

“However, it is hardly our fault, is it not?” he continued. “The brothers have been keeping you plenty busy I hear, and the young master requires constant supervision to keep him from chasing his flights of fancy.”

It always amused you when Barbatos referred to the massive, muscular Prince as ‘young;’ it reminded you time and time again how ancient Barbatos really was. He sounded like a tired uncle reigning in a toddler, and looked the part too, his eyes tired as he watched other demons pass by to take their seats.

“Speaking of Lord Diavolo,” you chimed, “wasn’t he the one who was supposed to join you for this?”

Barbatos returned his eyes to you, only to be met by a narrowed, mischievous gaze and grinning lips. Barbatos’s smile reappeared deeper than before.

“Something tells me that he intentionally had me set this up and then abandoned it at the last minute in order to allow us this opportunity,” he confessed.

“How very generous of him,” you whispered as you bumped your shoulder against his playfully.

Barbatos drew his thumb over the soft pad of your hand where your thumb and finger joined. The sensitive nerves tingled, sending goosebumps up your arm.

“Yes,” he agreed as his emerald eyes stared into yours. “Very generous.”

You leaned towards him slightly, your own thumb drawing along his hand in return, as your voice dropped to a whisper. “It would be in ill taste if we did not maximize this opportunity that he’s provided.”

“Ill taste indeed,” he muttered as he glanced down at your lips. His gaze lingered there for one heartbeat, two. Just long enough to get you leaning slightly closer in hopeful anticipation. Then he broke his gaze and stared ahead. “Lets us fully enjoy this performance then,” he stated.

You stared at him, mildly stunned by his reservedness, until you noticed the slightest hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

He was toying with you. On purpose.

Your lips turned downward into a pout and you gave a humph as you leaned back in your chair. Beneath the hum of the audience settling in, you heard the faintest hint of a quiet chuckle in his chest.

You still had yet to kiss him. The first date was very nice and sweet, a simple dinner at a restaurant you knew you both enjoyed. You had wanted to keep the first date familiar and unassuming, to allow for the possibility that you’d been wrong, that he’d taken your invitation as a dinner between friends rather than love interests. It wasn’t long before that worry was eliminated by the touch of his hand over yours at the table, followed by a long swipe of his thumb over your knuckles.

But of course, the private moment was short-lived, because wherever you were, a brother wasn’t far behind. It was Asmo this time who’d spotted you, miffed at the realization that you were out with someone other than him, and looking dolled up to boot. Which then, of course, led to him inviting himself to your very obvious one-on-one with Barbatos. The demon had given you a look to silently inquire if such behavior was acceptable, and you were too kindhearted to give Asmo the boot, so you surrendered, folding like a deck of cards.

The regret and guilt still sat heavy on your mind. You should have been firmer, set some boundaries. But boundary setting was always difficult when the brothers were involved.

Barbatos would have been able to do it; the look that he’d given you had made that clear enough. He was a kind demon, yet firm if he needed to be. And you had a keen sense that you never wanted to get on his bad side. But he’d taken the intrusion gracefully, and parted ways later that evening without a hint of disappointment or disapproval.

Even so, you’d assumed you’d botched any future opportunities at a second date with him. Sure, he may not have expressed disappointment in the moment, but you knew he was a master at disguising his true feelings when he wanted to. So, it had taken you by surprise when he had texted you that he’d enjoyed himself and wanted to try again, albeit something that could be either more structured, or more private to prevent future interruptions.

It had taken far longer than expected to follow through, to the point that you’d almost lost hope. But finally, here you sat with the apple of your eye looking delicious and refined in his black tuxedo, while you donned a simple strapped gown of your own. The lights above dimmed, indicating the performance would be starting soon, as the orchestra completed the final checks on their instruments, ensuring everything was in tune.

Barbatos’s hand continued to hold yours, the action feeling almost possessive in nature, a warning to any who might see the two of you together. A part of you wondered if any of the brothers had managed to sneak their way in and were watching from a distance, and if so, did Barbatos know. There was no way to know for certain. Either way, if they were out there somewhere, they couldn’t reach you now, not without causing a scene.

Now your seats made more sense. You had wondered why you weren’t located in one of the more private balcony boxes above; it certainly seemed like a place Barbatos would have preferred. And had he come with Diavolo like originally intended, he very well might have. You certainly couldn’t have the Lord of the Devildom sitting amongst the masses.

Which means Barbatos likely figured out a way to change the seating arrangement as soon as he learned of Diavolo’s little scheme. This was clearly by design, a way to ensure your second date would not be interrupted like the first. You let out a relaxed breath and reclined against the back of your seat as you prepared yourself to become immersed in the opera.

The lights overhead went black, leaving only the stage washed in a white glow.

“Y/N...” Barbatos started, his eyes on you. “There’s something you should know about this performance...”

“Hm?” you replied distractedly with barely a glance.

But then the orchestral music began, and you shushed him with a pat on his arm. Barbatos’s words died on his tongue, as his hand tightened around yours.

The music started strong and then fell like cascading water into a flurry of notes. You watched as the music played, as the singers entered the scene.

You had expected English, or one of the romance languages that you often associated with opera, or even an older, biblical language such as Hebrew. But instead, the language was like nothing you’d ever heard, notes sung in such a way that it felt entirely inhuman and beyond the realm of possibility. You stared, bewildered, unable to understand any of it, even as the earth-shattering beauty of it crashed over you. There were no screens with subtitles framing the stage, no form of translation at all. There was nothing; just your eyes and the music to try to decipher the story that was unfolding. It was clear it had to do with angels and demons, and that there was a forbidden love story between them, which, you could deduce would lead to conflict. But the details were lost as soon as they had opened their mouths.

Barbatos watched you in silent observation as your emotions transformed and danced across your face from confusion, to wonder, to awe, to fear, and back again.

His hand squeezed yours, a tether keeping you from losing yourself in the panic of your mortal brain trying to make sense of something beyond its understanding.

“Are you alright?” he whispered, his tone laced with concern. Your wide eyes shot over to him; it took a moment for recognition to register in your gaze.

“Y-Yeah. But I don’t understand them at all. What language is this??”

“It’s the Divine Language,” he replied. He watched and waited for your brain to process.

“...wait. What?”

“It’s the Divine Language,” he repeated. “The language of God, spoken by angels and demons. It’s no surprise you don’t understand it, you’re not meant to unless it’s directly intended for you.”

You didn’t know how to put into words that it felt like you simultaneously understood yet didn’t. The language didn’t sound like words, and yet it left imprints upon you, feelings and emotions stamped upon your soul that you could only vaguely understand.

Barbatos continued as you stared back at the stage in shock. “Many of the operas composed here are done so in the Divine Language as it withholds the purest meaning and form, and the notes cannot be duplicated in mortal speech. Had I known you were joining me tonight instead of the young master, I might have selected a more appropriate performance.”

He watched you as you grimaced against a particularly moving crescendo.

“Why does it feel like it’s in my head?” you whispered.

“Because it is,” he whispered back. “You are fortunate that you have Angelic ancestry in you.”

You gave him a confused look. “Why?”

“Because if you didn’t, you’d be bleeding out your ears.”

“What??” your voice raised in panic, and multiple demons seated near you shushed you. You lowered your voice again, but the panic was still there. “Barbatos!”

Barbatos gave a quiet chuckle as he pulled something small from his pocket. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Just put these in your ears. It will lessen the impact.”

You took the small black box from his hand and opened it to see a set of ear plugs. You wasted no time in putting them in. Immediately, the panic and chaos you felt eased, the thrumming reduced to a hum.

“Why didn’t you give me these earlier? A warning would have been nice,” you quietly seethed.

Barbatos almost rebutted that he’d tried when the lights went down, but decided against it when he saw you fold your hands protectively in your lap. You were angry. He gently pried your hands apart gently with his and twined his fingers with yours in a soft hold. You didn’t fight him, but you didn’t look at him either.

“I promise you weren’t in any danger,” he whispered close to your ear. “I would not have brought you here if it wasn’t safe.”

Your body remained stiff, but you finally looked at him. “It felt intentional,” you replied. “Like it’s something Diavolo would have you do to test me. Tell me, Barbatos... are you here for work or pleasure?”

Surprise flashed across his face, followed by the return of his gentle smile. He leaned even closer to your ear until his lips ghosted over your pinna. “Pleasure,” he whispered, his voice low. His hand squeezed yours reassuringly. “Definitely pleasure. I assure you there were no ulterior motives.”

The way his voice alone nearly unraveled you... your thighs tightened against their impact and you swallowed as you stared ahead at the stage, struggling to follow the story that you were missing.

But you could be horny and angry at the same time. You set your jaw stubbornly.

“You swear?” you asked as you kept your eyes on the stage.

He took your chin in his hand and turned your face to look at him, his expression serious.

“I swear,” he replied.

Then he placed as soft brush of lips to your forehead. It stole your breath as a shiver passed through every nerve.

Your anger finally dimmed, soothed by the genuineness of his words and the reassurance of his affection. Your fingers finally closed around his in reciprocity, and Barbatos returned his green eyes to the stage.

A long moment passed as you both watched the performance. The impact of the Divine Language continued to wash over you, dragging vague meaningful pictures to your mind as your emotions danced like puppets. The earplugs helped, keeping you from feeling like your head was splitting open. But you still felt lost in it, carried away on a foreign tide.

Barbatos noticed. He leaned close and whispered. “Would you like me to translate for you?”

His breath tickled your ear and your chest tightened as your heart tried to grow wings and escape. You angled your head to him slightly; your eyes breaking from the stage briefly.

“Please,” you whispered.

And so, he quietly summarized the plot and dialogue into your ear as his eyes watched. The male and female lead sang to each other, their voices rich with emotion, their body language communicating their love.

“They are of two different worlds,” he explained. “Yet they love each other unequivocally.”

You smiled softly. “Romantic...”

“Very,” he agreed. “She is expressing worry that heaven will cast her out for falling for him. And he is promising to never leave her.”

The music rose in crescendo. It filled you, and your chest tightened like a balloon about to burst. You took deep breaths to allow the sensations to pass through you.

You had anticipated appreciating the music, being impressed by the vocal gymnastics. But this was proving to be so much more, a visceral experience that would leave you reeling by the time it was over.

As you watched, Barbatos continued to translate. The angel was cast out as predicted and was cursed to walk the earth and live her life as a human. This allowed them to continue their romance without judgment and they rejoiced. But shortly after, things took a turn for the worst, as they often did in operas.

“She’s sick...” you commented quietly as you watched the performance.

Barbatos glanced at you briefly from the corner of his eye. “She’s mortal.”

Something inside your chest twisted, a stirring of something heavy that you’d been struggling to ignore ever since you committed to staying in the Devildom. You tried to push it back down, to watch the story continue.

But maybe it was the way that it hit too close to home; or maybe it was the way the Divine Language seemed to invade every crevice of you like a living thing, forcing your body to experience something beyond what it was built for. Either way, it brought forth every worry, every fear that plagued you late at night when you were alone in your bed. It was the way the loneliness that you struggled to ignore within yourself began to gain weight, a black hole pulling you into its relentless gravity. It was the type of loneliness that came with the sense of otherness, of being separate; the awareness of being where one did not truly belong no matter how badly you wanted to.

Your eyes brimmed with tears as you stared at Barbatos’s hand holding your own. Suddenly, this – all of this – felt foolish. So foolish. What were you doing, going on a date with a demon? Allowing yourself to open your heart for someone who would outlive you ten times over? The time would be gone in a blink, your mortal life small and insignificant.

Your tear-rimmed eyes looked back to the stage. You watched as the female lead died, succumbing to her illness, and her partner mourned her.

Would Barbatos mourn you in such a way? Would he watch you grow old and feeble while he stayed young and flawless? Did demons and angels even love the same way that humans did? How much could one human life really matter anyway, to someone who was essentially immortal? You were a blip in his life, a small blink of time that would come and go, a nice little hobby to pass the time. Whereas for you, he would be your entire world, your entire life if things panned out the way your foolish heart hoped they would.

Because there was no one else you wanted. No one else that even came close.

The thoughts shook you to your core until it felt as if you were being split in two, a great chasm running right down the center of you between what your heart longed for and what your head knew to be true. It made you begin the grieving process of what you would inevitably lose before you’d ever had a chance to even have it. The pain was a wild beast in your chest, threatening to break free, to rip open your rib cage and let your heart bleed out in front of everyone. You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream.

You wanted to leave.

You unlatched your hand from Barbatos’s, avoiding his eyes as you grabbed your purse from the floor.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Excuse me...”

You made your way past the few seated individuals that blocked you from the aisle. As soon as you’d freed yourself, you walked quickly towards the exit, a race against time between the sobs in your throat that were rising to the back of your tongue and your proximity to the door.

You crossed the threshold with your hand over your mouth. Already, you felt the wet tears sliding down your cheeks, your makeup effectively ruined.

And so was your date, you were certain. The way you’d bolted from Barbatos without a second thought, without explanation... If you hadn’t offended him before on your first date, then you certainly did now.

You removed the earplugs from your ears and stuffed them into your purse.

You could still hear the music, could still hear the anguish in the male demon’s notes as he mourned the loss of his love. Even from here, the Divine Language found you, gripped you, choked you. You practically ran out of the opera house into the cold, wet evening of the devildom, and with it came silence – blessed, sweet silence. A soft rain was falling, coating everything until it shined wet.

You quietly walked out from the covered entryway, past the great pillars that held up the grand architecture. You turned your face up to the sky with closed eyes and let the water mist your skin. Then you sat down on the steps and put your head in your arms and cried.

It wasn’t long before you heard the familiar soft steps of Barbatos’s polished black shoes on the wet stone. A moment later, the rain above you stopped and the sound of pitter-pattering on fabric met your ears. Still, you didn’t look up, your shame too heavy to lift your head.

You felt the presence of him, felt him as he circled around to your front. You peeked through your arms just in time to see him kneel in front of you on the steps.

“I’m sorry,” you confessed through sniffles.

“What happened?” he asked calmly.

“I don’t know, I just...”

More tears welled up as your words caught in your throat. You wiped at your eyes in an attempt to make them stop, but more took their place. Barbatos took a handkerchief from his coat pocket and handed it to you. You took it and held it in your hands, your fingers rubbing across the soft silk.

“Did you not like the performance?” he asked, his tone laced with worry. “Perhaps the earplugs were not enough.”

You couldn’t help but give a sad, soft laugh. “No, I did. I did like it. It’s just...”

Again, your words faltered. Why was it so difficult to say? It was as if the emotions you felt were too large, unable to fit into the neat little boxes that human language provided. If only you could speak the language of angels and demons...

“Barbatos...” you started softly, “why did you ask me out?”

His veridian eyes widened slightly in surprise. “You mean to the opera?”

“No, I mean ask me out. On a date.”

His gaze softened, although the confusion in them remained. “Because I care for you. I had thought that years of mutual pining and silent eye contact every time we were in the same room together made that obvious.”

You half chuckled. It wasn’t as obvious as he thought it was...

He tilted his head slightly, and he wasn’t quite quick enough to hide the sadness that flitted across his face.

“Do you not feel the same?” he asked. “Perhaps I have misunderstood-“

“No! No, that’s not it,” you protested, your hands reaching out to grasp his.

Not that. Anything but that...

You kept his free hand in yours, your fingers following his knuckles from one finger to the next.

“What I mean is, why me?”

Barbatos’s fingers wrapped around your own. “Why not you?”

“Because. I’m mortal.” Your voice cracked, and Barbatos straightened slightly.

“Ah. I see.”

“I can’t help but feel like I’m making a mistake. Like I’m not supposed to feel this way.”

“Feel what way?”

More tears fell from your lashes as a sob escaped your throat. “Happy.”

You released your hold on him and buried your face in your hands.

Barbatos touched your arm, his fingers wrapping around it gently. You felt the rain suddenly return followed immediately by the sound of the umbrella touching the stone steps. You looked at it slightly confused, just in time for Barbatos’s other hand to take your chin and tilt your face up until you were looking at him.

“And why shouldn’t you be happy?” he asked.

You stared at him, watching as his hair flattened in the rain, running rivulets down his pale skin.

“Because my time here will be so brief compared to you, to everyone. I’ll keep changing and grow old, and you’ll all stay the same.”

Barbatos stared at you for a long moment, his expression soft yet neutral. He cocked his head slightly and released your arm to wipe your wet hair from your face before trailing his fingers along your cheek to your jaw line.

“What makes you think your longevity will be brief?”

You furrowed your brow. “Because I’m human...?”

“So is Solomon...”

He had a point there. But...

“But Solomon is a powerful sorcerer.”

“And you’re not?”

“Not like him... I’m just barely beginning to grasp the things he’s teaching me.”

“Do not mistake knowledge for power,” Barbatos said.

“I thought knowledge was power,” you teased, the first hint of a smile on your lips.

Barbatos smirked at your cheekiness. “I stand corrected. However, the point I’m trying to make is this: your power is your own and always will be. And trust me when I say that your power is vast. Already you’ve been able to wield it in ways that Solomon could only dream. All that you require now is the knowledge, and that will come with time.”

“But my time is limited.”

“So it is for all of us, one way or another,” Barbatos replied. “Do not let a little thing called Time stop you. You will have plenty enough of it to figure out how to bend its effects to your will just as Solomon has.”

“Is that what your visions of the future show you?” you teased.

Barbatos’s soft smile tightened slightly. “I don’t know. I don’t look into the future unless Lord Diavolo instructs me to. But even if I could, I wouldn’t look at yours.”

Your brows furrowed. “Why not?”

Barbatos stared down at the ground, his lashes hiding his eyes. “Because no good could come of it. Despite my age, I am not immune to the impact of loss. And witnessing the loss of you in the future would only taint what time I have with you in the present.”

A silence fell between you as you thought upon his words. They brought a warmth into your chest at the realization of how much you meant to him. And yet... it only made your concerns feel that much more valid.

You didn’t want to hurt him. Not in the present, and not in the future. Even if it was due to circumstances beyond your control.

“What if... what if I can’t do what Solomon does? What if I can’t figure it all out? The lifespan of a human seems so short...”

Barbatos looked back up at you, a sad smile on his lips.

“If your time is to be so short, then perhaps it is best to enjoy the time that you do have, freely without the burden of guilt. You deserve happiness, in whatever way you can find it. Don’t let your fears taint what your heart wants.” His hand found yours, and he stared at it as his thumb brushed over your fingers. “And... if I may be a little bit selfish... let me have this time with you now, if you’ll have me. I will feel your absence regardless, and I’d rather be able to look upon the past with fondness instead of regret.”

“Barbatos...” you whispered. Your hand came up and brushed his long locks back, tucking them behind his left ear. “Of course I’ll have you.”

He smiled softly at you. “Nothing pleases me more.”

A thought still bothered you though, a question itching at the back of your mind, springing up more worry. It made your gaze distant, distracted.

“Barbatos... what happened at the end of the story?” you asked.

“Hm? You mean the opera?” he replied. You nodded. His smile grew. “When the female lead dies, her soul is unable to ascend to heaven due to being cast out. So, there is only one place left for her to go.”

Your eyes widened. “She went to hell. She got to be with him in the end.”

Barbatos’s smile filled his face, his eyes crinkling and perfect white teeth showing. He was so beautiful it made your chest ache. “She did.”

Your gaze became distant again with thought. “When I die.... where do you think I’ll go?”

“Hmmm,” Barbatos pondered, his fingers on his chin. “Well, to be honest, it’s anyone’s guess. Although as the keeper of the Seven Deadly Sins, it may tip the scales more in favor of here. Relations between heaven and hell have been improving, but there are still rules that must be followed. And any who support demons usually end up coming here.”

“Wait, so I’m going to go to hell??” you said indignantly as mirth danced in your eyes.

Barbatos grinned. “As if I’d ever let my girl go to such a place. No, I would bring you here to the Devildom.”

Your body flushed hot at his words. “Your girl...”

Barbatos took your chin in his fingers, his thumb brushing against your lower lip gently. “My girl,” he affirmed.

Then he leaned forward and kissed you, his lips cool and soft against yours in the cold of night. You leaned into it, your hands coming up instinctually to cup his chilled face as you reciprocated his affection.

He pulled away slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, before returning for a second kiss, his lips firmer, warmer. You opened your mouth to him, every part of you aching for more of him until he filled you, surrounded you, until your head couldn’t think anymore and all that mattered was him, you, this moment. Barbatos’s grip on you tightened as his warm tongue found yours, tasting you, claiming you.

He pulled away just a fraction again, his eyes shining as the bony wings framing his head flickered and vanished. His grip on you was strong, one hand holding you by the curve of your jawline, and the other gripping your waist. You had the keen sense that in that moment, he was torn between behaving like the gentleman he felt you deserved, versus taking you right there on the cold, wet steps in the empty street.

The evidence of Barbatos’s desire for you shocked you. He was always so reserved, so in control, that seeing him grapple with his lesser instincts because of you made your own instincts want to respond in kind, to lure him out of his carefully crafted persona. You’d been so starved for his affection for so long, that now even the smallest crumbs of his desire felt like a feast.

But of course, his reason won out. Slowly he stood, his hand holding yours as he helped you to your feet.

“Perhaps we should get you home,” he stated, even as his eyes remained locked on your lips.

Numb with need, your body buzzing, you nodded silently.

Barbatos picked up the umbrella and shook the water off it before placing it over the two of you. Then he offered his arm and you hooked yours with his as he led you to the car.

The ride back was silent, although you continued to hold his hand in your lap for the entire duration. The drive felt far too short for your liking. A sense of dread filled the pit in your stomach as the House of Lamentation came into view and it didn’t leave even as Barbatos released your hand with a kiss and exited the vehicle to open your door for you. You took his offered hand and stepped out, your gaze locked on the many windows that stared back like countless eyes. You could feel them on your back as you turned around at the gate to face Barbatos to begin your goodnights.

Barbatos could sense your unease.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just... I don’t think I’m ready to go in yet. I’d like to spend more time with you.” Your eyes were downcast bashfully as you stared at the buttons of his white shirt, the black bow tie at his neck.

He gave a gentle laugh. “I don’t want the night to end either. It is far too early to be saying goodbye. Where would you like to go?”

You glanced up at him as you felt heat roll across your body, the memory of your kiss still fresh in your mind. “Some place quiet... and private.”

Barbatos fell silent for a moment as he stared down at you. “I know just the place,” he finally said.

He led you back to the car, and with a final glance back at the mansion, you sat down in the passenger seat. He closed your door, and soon you were on the road again. It wasn’t long before he pulled the car up through the lavish, scroll-decorated iron gates of Lord Diavolo’s castle. Your eyes widened in slight surprise.

“Here?”

Barbatos glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “You said you wanted private. This is the only place I can guarantee for sure that no one else will find you.”

“I would have thought it’d be the first place they’d look,” you replied as you stared up at the great, towering spires.

“Oh, they most certainly will. But as you know, the castle in vast, with many rooms and dangers. And there is one room they will never be able to enter without explicit invitation.”

You gave him a questioning look.

“Mine,” he stated with a small smirk.

A giddy dizziness clouded your mind as he got out of the car and came around to assist you.

As you stepped out, he continued. “Due to the dangerous nature of my room, there are many wards and spells that keep unwelcome guests from entering. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you like, and then I will take you home when you’re ready.”

You realized Barbatos was referring to the many doors that led to infinite pasts and futures.

“I’ve been to your room before; I don’t recall it being very... comfortable,” you confessed.

Barbatos laughed as he led you up the steps. “That’s because you only entered the part I wanted you to enter. My personal space has far better amenities than just stairs and doors. Did you think I just hung like a bat from the ceiling while I slept?” he teased.

You chuckled. “The thought had crossed my mind...”

Up the stairs and down the winding, complex halls he led you, taking sharp turns and walking around blank spaces of floor to avoid hidden dangers. Finally, you were outside his door. With his hand holding yours, he opened it to reveal a pristine bedroom with an ornate four post bed with a canopy. A large fireplace sat to the right, already lit, an ornate rug and sofa sitting in front of it. There was a sitting area near the tall glass doors that opened onto a balcony with a tea cart close by. It was simple in its elegance, the room cast in a warm yellow-orangish glow from the fire. Not a speck of dirt was present, and suddenly you felt very unclean, your dress and hair still wet from earlier.

“May I use your bathroom?” you asked.

“Of course, right through there.” Barbatos motioned to the double doors to the left as he made his way to his tea cart. “I will fix us something to drink.”

You stepped into his bathroom and shut the door. It was incredibly spacious. Not as grand as Asmo’s of course, but it most certainly had every necessary amenity and then some. You checked yourself in the mirror and nearly gasped at the state of your makeup and your hair.

To think he kissed you while you looked like this... twice, in fact.

You did what you could to clean yourself up, removing the washed-out makeup and letting down your hair to run your fingers through the damp strands. Once there was nothing more you could do, you stepped back out.

The delicious smell of tea was fragrant in the air, carried on the warmth of the fire. Barbatos had set the tea out on the small round table of the sitting area and turned when you entered. He was still fully dressed in his wet formal wear, and you realized with amusement that he’d gotten engrossed in ensuring the tea and setup were perfect. The porcelain cups and saucers were delicate and beautiful, with floral designs and golden rims. The spoons were made of silver, polished to shine in the firelight.

“Welcome back,” he replied with a smile.

You smiled in return. “What’s all this?”

“What does it look like? I thought we could talk over a cup of tea, let our bones warm a little,” he replied as he made final touches to the setup, adjusting the napkins ever so slightly, turning the teapot just so.

“Barbatos...” you chided playfully. “Is this Barbatos the demon, or Barbatos the butler?”

He stared at you for a moment, stunned, and then gave an embarrassed laugh. “Haha, I suppose you’re right... old habits, as they say...” His laugh left his eyes and he stared at you. “I just want you to feel comfortable. I know we’ve known each other for some time; however, it is only our second date.”

“I am comfortable,” you said softly. “More comfortable than I’ve ever been since I first arrived here.” You stepped closer towards him until you were less than a foot apart. “I always feel safe with you, Barbatos.”

Barbatos smiled in return, warm and soft as his eyes drank you in. “You don’t know how much it pleases me to hear you say that.”

You rested your hand against his chest. “Your coat is still wet,” you commented.

“Yes,” he replied as he began to undo the buttons. He removed it and you watched as the muscles of his shoulders rolled beneath his white shirt. He laid it carefully over the back of his chair. “It will dry by the fire soon enough.”

He began to undo his bowtie, but your hands came up to stop him.

“Please… allow me,” you said softly, even as your heart pounded wildly in your chest.

Barbatos swallowed slightly, but let his hands fall until they found their place on your hips, gentle and unassuming.

Slowly, carefully, you began to undo his tie for him as the air warmed between you with each shaky breath. Once it was loose, you gently pulled on the black material, watching as it slid along his collar before falling off.

Your eyes locked with his.

It was enough to make the last of his gentlemanly resolve vanish, and he kissed you, his lips capturing yours needily. The tie fell from your grip to land in a careless pile on the floor as your arms went up around his neck to pull him closer. His hands tightened around you in return, fingers spread wide as they traveled across your back. The warmth of him, the firmness of his body beneath the soft fabrics of his clothes... it was better than every fantasy you’d ever had, dreams paling beneath the shadow of the very real demon in front of you.

Barbatos’s hands shifted from your body to your jaw, cupping your face in a delicate hold. Once again you opened your mouth to him, eager to revisit that sinful moment on the steps of the opera house, as your fingers tangled into his hair at the base of his neck. The strands were soft between your fingers, his tongue sweet with the hint of tea. He must have tasted it before you emerged from the bathroom earlier, no doubt to ensure its perfection.

But now it sat abandoned as your fingers began to undo the buttons of his shirt, starting at the one high on his neck. As soon as the smooth skin of his chest was exposed, you abandoned your task to run your palms up his chest and back to his neck as you clung tightly to him, your body slotting against his.

He chuckled against your lips as his hands returned to caressing your curves. “What about the tea?” he teased.

You nibbled on his lip, pulling back with your teeth until it released with a pop, earning a growl from the usually reserved demon. “No offense, but screw the tea.”

Barbatos’s eyes widened, his eyebrow raising in judgment. “No offense she says, and yet she wounds me in the same breath.”

You chuckled and planted a kiss on his lips. “Forgive me… but perhaps we can enjoy it after?”

“After?” Barbatos echoed, his eyebrow raising ever higher as the corner of his mouth curled up. His hands slid from the curve of your back to the plush of your ass and squeezed. “After what exactly? What expectations have you brought with you tonight?”

Your breath hitched at his bold touch, yet your eyes narrowed at his obvious teasing. Two could play that game.

You widened your eyes innocently. “Expectations? None.” You looked at the tea setting. “Perhaps we should enjoy a cup now, before it gets cold…”

You began to disentangle from his hold and turn your body toward the seats, but Barbatos’s strong arm wrapped around your waist, blocking you. When you turned to look up at him, he was staring down at you with darkened eyes, his smile gone.

“You know… your dress is wet too...” he hummed as he pulled you back against him.

Checkmate.

Your arms returned around his neck. “Is it now?”

Barbatos’s hands once again moved along the curve of your back. “Perhaps we should slip you into something more comfortable?”

As he spoke, his fingers gently traced the line of your spine until he reached the top of the zipper. Slowly he pulled it down, the material relaxing around you, every soft bit of your skin freed from restraint. His fingers traced back up along your now naked spine as his lips gently brushed yours, the tip of his tongue teasing your mouth open. It pulled a wanton moan from your throat, a sound that would have made you falter in embarrassment in any other moment... except his touch was far too distracting to care anymore, his chest echoing your own in a low, satisfied hum. The delicacy of his long, slender fingers skated across your shoulder blades to catch beneath the straps of your dress and slid it off your shoulders. You removed your arms from the falling straps, and Barbatos’s hands helped the dress the rest of the way over your hips until it fell to a puddle around your feet.

He withheld his kisses for a moment to allow his eyes to drink you in from head to toe as his hands followed your silhouette.

“Did you match for me?” he mused as he stared at your matching bra and panties. “A bit hopeful tonight, were you?” he grinned as he nuzzled your jawline with his nose. “Expectations indeed.”

“Better safe than sorry,” you replied. “And yes, a little bit hopeful...”

His nose continued to follow the curve of your neck then your shoulder as he talked, his breath coating your skin. “Then I’ll consider this a fortunate turn of events. I typically don’t expect such intimacy on the second date, but for you I’m more than happy to make an exception.”

Barbatos’s teeth caught on the strap of your bra as his eyes stared over your shoulder to observe the tantalizing view of his hand caressing the curve of your lace-covered ass. It made your stomach flip, your head spin, and your heat grow between your legs, the slick already building thick within your thin panties. You were eager; you wanted nothing more than for him to take you right this instant, in any which way. But Barbatos was the opposite; he took his time and savored. It was driving you mad. You shifted your stance just slightly in impatience, the sound of your shoes clicking on the stone floor of his room.

It was enough to catch his attention, to release your bra strap from his pearly white teeth and look down at your heels. “Hm, perhaps we should remove those shoes of yours...” he smiled against your lips.

Before you could protest, he bent just enough to wrap his arms around your thighs and hoisted you up in his arms, your body pressed against his. It shocked you how easily he lifted you, as if you weighed practically nothing, his lean muscular figure disguising his demonic strength.

Slowly he walked you back towards his bed as his mouth began to leave kisses in your cleavage, his tongue flicking out occasionally to lick and taste. It made your breaths come out in pants, made your body squirm slightly in his hold, and yet he held you steadily until he reached his destination.

You had thought he would have tossed you onto his bed, following with his body. Or at least that was what you had hoped for. However, Barbatos always managed to surprise you with the unexpected. Instead, he set you gently back down on your feet.

“Sit,” he ordered. His tone was soft and not at all overbearing or firm, yet you found yourself following the command instantly.

Then he kneeled before you and gently lifted your left foot. His hands carefully removed your shoe followed by a trail of gentle kisses up your ankle to your calf. Then he set down your left foot and repeated the action with your right, once again removing the shoe carefully and following it up with kisses.

However, this time, the kisses didn’t stop at your calf. His lips kept traveling. Past the knee, up the inside of the thigh... your legs parted willingly as your breaths began to quicken, your clit pulsing heavily for him in anticipation. As he got closer, he pushed your legs wider still, his palm firm against the inside of your knee, and pulled you closer to him until your ass was barely on the edge of his soft, plush mattress.

He paused once he was between your legs, and inhaled through his nose, his eyes closing as if he were savoring a rich, herbal tea.

“I love your scent,” he whispered.

His eyes opened and you gasped as his green irises glowed, his canines slightly sharper and longer. The human illusion faded away like a mirage and now you could see the small, bony wings in place of horns, could see the long, double-ended serpentine tail curling and twitching behind him, shining wet. He still wore his clothes from the evening, his shirt half unbuttoned.

Barbatos watched you with an unreadable gaze. “Are you afraid?” he asked.

You shook your head vigorously. “No,” you breathed. “Just amazed at how beautiful you are.”

Barbatos chuckled, low and deep, ending on a soft hum. “She says with her legs spread wide for me...” His finger trailed the shape of you through your panties and your body twitched as you bit your lip. “Trust me when I say you are the beautiful one.”

Then he leaned forward and kissed your core, right on that tight bundle of nerves through the delicate fabric. You gasped against it, a moan bursting from your chest as you leaned back further, bracing your weight on your hands. Barbatos’s eyes flashed up at you, brows low and pupils blown wide with lust. He kissed you again, firmer this time. Again, you whined for him, your thighs tensing as pleasure tickled your nerves from the epicenter of his touch.

On his third return, his tongue flicked out to lick you through the fabric, followed by the press of his lips as his mouth closed over your clit.

You were panting heavily now, your heart pounding against your ribs in desperation. Again, he licked and kissed. And again. Slowly, steadily, with more pressure than before. His fingers began to stroke your entrance through the fabric, his long fingers drawing up and down.

As his mouth worked you higher and higher through your panties, you felt the warm wetness of his tail wrap itself around your leg and slowly slither up in a spiraling, winding trail. It was foreign, stimulating, and entirely erotic. As the tips of his tail reached the height of your inner thigh, they slipped beneath your panties, gliding against your lips and teasing your entrance, causing it to spasm. Then the tail hooked around the sopping wet fabric and pulled it aside, allowing Barbatos unimpeded access to your cunt as his hands remained firm against the inside of your knees, keeping you spread so wide that the hamstrings of your thighs burned.

“Beautiful...” he murmured as he stared at your pussy with heavy lidded eyes.

Then his mouth was on you, tongue dipping, lips pressing, sucking. You cried out, your head falling back as your back arched. The arousal tightened, sharpened, until you were sure you would cut yourself on it, bleed out all the desire in a gush. Your breaths grew heavier, faster. Your hips began to rock, your legs tremble.

But just as you were about to reach your zenith, Barbatos pulled away.

“W-what??” you protested. “Hey!”

Barbatos chuckled as he wiped his shining wet lips with his thumb. “My apologies. I am not usually one to leave a duty unfinished. However...” his gaze on you grew dark as he stood and began unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. “I made a promise to myself a long time ago.”

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. You were still salty he’d stopped, stealing your orgasm from you. “What promise?”

With his shirt unbuttoned and removed, he began to undo the buckle of his pants. He pulled the belt from the loops around his waist, then continued to unbutton the top of his slacks. His pants loosened, sagging to catch on his hips and the hard cock that tented his pants.

You swallowed as you stared at him, your eyes following the curves of his iliac crests, the muscles of his abdomen in soft relief against the firelight. The soft tuft of dark hair below his navel gave way to the base of his cock, still barely hidden beneath his slacks.

A realization hit you. Barbatos didn’t wear underwear. No boxers, no briefs, nothing. Nothing but the thin black fabric of his slacks between his cock and the world.

Your hands reached out, grabbing onto the fabric to tug it down and free him as he watched you with amusement in his eyes. His cock sprang free, perfect and beautiful. Your hand wrapped around it, feeling the warmth of it, the smoothness of the skin, the veins that trekked along its sides...

Barbatos’s finger tucked beneath your chin and forced your eyes to look up at him.

“I promised myself,” he continued, “that the first time I make you cum, it’ll be on my cock.”

Your eyes widened and you swallowed. His smirk turned into a devilish grin as he dipped his head down and captured your mouth with his, the scent of you still on his lips. As his tongue forced its way past your lips, his body invaded you, bearing down on you, forcing you to back further into the bed that smelled entirely of him.

He kissed you hungrily as his hand quickly undid the clasp of your bra before hooking his fingers into your panties and pulling them down off your legs, the clinging wet strings of arousal stretching and snapping as the material left your throbbing cunt. Then he was over you again, surrounding you, caging you with his body as his thighs pushed your legs open for him, the head of his cock nestled against your entrance.

“Please...” you begged, your body taut with need.

He stared at you, the affection heavy in his gaze and written in the flush of his cheeks like paint on paper.

“You will tell me if it’s too much, yes?” he said softly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I promise,” you whispered.

You hooked your legs around the back of his thighs and pressed, and he obliged, the leaking head of his cock pushing into your wet heat as his lips parted in a silent breath. You inhaled, your ribcage expanding and your back arching as his cock dragged across every awakened nerve within you, causing your walls to clench tightly around his girth. He was long, and he filled every inch of you and then some, pushing you past your limits as you gasped in a short cry.

Barbatos froze for a moment, concern in his veridian eyes. But your body quieted, your expression one of bliss rather than pain, and he breathed as he pulled out and entered you again slowly, feeling the way your body greeted him, took him, made a home for him. Every inch of you was trembling; the air leaving your lungs on shaky breaths, your thighs practically vibrating, your walls fluttering.

Barbatos’s hand cupped your cheek and he pressed his forehead to yours as you looked at him through half-open, lust-blown eyes.

“My pretty girl...” he whispered tenderly. “My pretty little human. So fragile, so beautiful. Look at you, laid out before me, shaking like a leaf.” He pulled out slowly and pushed in again, the muscles of his biceps shaking with restraint. “You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this moment...”

You smiled and gave a breathy laugh that ended in a hitch as he bottomed out in you. “At least as long as I have, I hope...”

Barbatos smiled against your lips. “Longer,” he promised, followed by a stolen kiss.

But words could only last for as long as you both had focus, and it quickly waned in favor of the pleasure that washed over you with each thrust, your body and mind immersed in the feel of him. With your body fully acclimated and pliable beneath his touch, his thrusts quickened as speech gave way to sounds of pleasure; of grunts and groans, gasps and pants.

Barbatos’s knowledge of the human body was not to be underestimated. With each dip of his hips, his cock rubbed against your most sensitive parts, each thrust ending in a grind of his groin to roll your swollen, sensitive clit against him. His hand caressed your body, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers, before sliding down to grip your thigh against him as his mouth devoured yours.

Your body shifted, your breaths quickened, catching in your chest as the arousal swelled, nerves on fire. “Please...” you begged as you clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Please, I’m so close...”

He sat up, adjusting his angle to allow his cock to press harder against the top of your walls where you were most sensitive. The change position allowed him the full freedom of his hands, and he took full advantage. He held your right leg over his shoulder while his other hand drew fast, steady circles over your swollen clit with his thumb. He quickened his thrusts for you, spurred by your pleas, your confessions of pleasure. He watched in rapture as your eyes glazed over then widened, as your back arched when your orgasm piqued, igniting across your nerves. Over and over, it crashed over you, drowning you, stealing your voice in favor of gasps of air and primal moans.

Barbatos relished the sight, the way you broke before him, because of him. He relished in the feel of you tight around his cock, your walls pulsing, sucking him in. He released your leg from his grip and leaned over you again, his lips stealing yours as he pistoned even faster, now that he was able to finally chase his own release. He buried himself in you with each thrust, the ‘pap’ ‘pap’ of skin hitting skin loud in his ears. You cried out against him with each thrust, your teeth digging into his shoulder. If it weren’t for your legs tightening in an iron grip around him, he would have stopped, checked you for injuries. But instead, you clung to him, your body beyond words, beyond control.

Were you going to cum again? So soon?

The thought alone was enough to send Barbatos over the edge, hot cum spilling from his cock with a groan as he rode out the burning wave of pleasure that washed over him. With each release of his load into you, a new wave followed, and he chased it relentlessly, savoring every second of you pinned beneath him, wrapped around him...

Your body spasmed against him and you half moaned, half cried into his shoulder, your arms tight around his neck as your hips rolled and bucked, your breaths forced out on a parched, hot tongue and burning lungs. It only added to his own pleasure; not just the fresh spasming of your cunt around him, milking the last of what he had to offer, but the way you moaned for him, clung to him, needed him, as if you’d shatter if every inch of you weren’t touching.

With the majority of his orgasm already falling to the wayside, he kept his pace until he was sure you had finished, when your death grip on his neck finally loosened and your head fell back damp with sweat into his rich bedsheets, panting heavily for air.

Barbatos was less winded of course, thanks to his superior strength and stamina. It allowed him the opportunity to lift himself on his arms and stare down at you, memorizing every detail.

As your breaths finally eased, your eyes fluttered open. As soon as you saw him staring down at you, you covered your face with a giggle. Barbatos smiled and grabbed your hand in his, pulling it off your face and pinning it above your head. He kissed you with smiling lips, and you returned it in kind, your free hand wrapping lazily around his neck, your fingers gently threading through his sweaty strands. He kissed you again, and again, moving from your lips to your cheek, to your jaw. You giggled against it, and he smiled against your skin as he buried his face into your neck and allowed himself to rest some of his weight onto you.

“Are you alright?” he finally asked. His voice was low and reverberated into your chest.

Your fingers lightly grazed back and forth along the back of his neck absently.

“Yeah,” you replied drowsily. “You?”

“Hm, yes.” he confirmed. “Very much so.”

After a long quiet moment, you spoke again, your eyes staring at the ceiling. “That was... wow.”

Barbatos pulled back sightly to look at you. “Do you regret it? Was it too soon?”

You looked at him in confusion and gave an amused laugh. “Definitely not. I’ve been wanting for that forever.” A pause. “How about you? Do you regret it?”

Barbatos smiled as he allowed the tips of his fingers to trace your body. He followed your neck, your shoulder, the curve of your breast. His smile widened as your nipple perked and hardened under his touch.

“No,” he replied. “It happened sooner than I expected, but trust me when I say I have zero regrets. Had I known it would be like this, I would have claimed you sooner.”

You stared at him with poorly masked surprise. Barbatos gave a soft chuckle as his fingers continued their trek down along your hip to your thigh.

“I meant what I said earlier this evening...” he said as he watched his hand travel. “I do not look into your future. I did not know this would happen.” His hand trailed back up your side to visit the gentle slopes of your arm, following the lines to your sensitive palm. His fingers twined with yours and he looked back at your eyes. “And I’m glad. Seeing this future would have dulled the experience. It was meant to happen like this; unexpected and perfect.”

Tears stung the corners of your eyes, and you pulled him against you as you kissed him tenderly. When your lips parted again, amusement colored your expression.

“I think I’m ready for that tea now.”

Barbatos grinned down at you. “Absolutely not. I will make us fresh tea.” He glanced down pointedly at where your bodies were still joined, although his white, sticky cum had long since begun to leak out onto the bedding. “But first, perhaps a bath.”

You laughed as you followed his gaze. “Yes, a bath would be nice.”

You had expected him to pull out of you, to help you stand and walk with you. You were prepared for the walk of shame, the humorous waddle of cupping your hand between your legs to catch any remaining drops of Barbatos’s gift that would inevitably leak out on your journey to the bathroom. But instead, his tail slithered its way between your back and the mattress and wrapped around your waist, as his hands gripped the globes of your butt.

“Hold on,” he ordered.

“What’re you—AH!”

He hoisted you up in his arms, your body securely pressed against his. You giggled into his shoulder as he carried you to the bathroom, his tail loosening around your waist in order to open the door while he continued to support your weight easily with his palms.

He set you down near the toilet. “If my memory of human anatomy is still correct, you should pee.”

You sat on the toilet to do as he asked, and watched as he began to fill the very large bathtub with hot water. The sight of him nude in front of you was both arousing and odd. He always kept himself covered from head to toe, so much so that even the slightest hint of arm or shoulder had been enough to make your blood run hot and your thighs squeeze together on more than one occasion. But now, you could see every inch of him, and you realized what an absolute insult it was to have his figure covered up at all times.

He looked up to catch you staring at him and you averted your eyes quickly. He smirked.

“Are you finished?” he asked.

You nodded as you cleaned yourself.

He held out his hand to you. “Then come join me.”

You did, stepping into the bathwater with his body behind you. You sighed as you leaned back against him, the water coming up to barely cover your breasts. His hands caressed your arms, your legs; any part of you he could easily touch.

It was a soft silence, a gentle togetherness where words had no place. There was no need for them. They were too loud, too plain... there was no way to capture what either of you felt, and there was no need to define or label, to announce or question. Before the two of you were not, and now you were. The transition into togetherness came with ease, forged through intimacy and surrender, through the carefully laid bricks of friendship and time.

Barbatos washed your hair for you, planting a kiss to your forehead as you tilted your head back to rinse. He washed your back too, and your arms, the soft washcloth trailing over every inch of skin. Your knees, your thighs... But then the washcloth was abandoned in favor of his fingers between your legs, parting your lips beneath the warm, sudsy water to find the pearl of nerves nestled protectively at the apex of your folds.

“Barbatos...” you moaned as you felt that familiar heat reignite. He planted a silent kiss to your temple as he began to move his first two fingers in small circles. Your legs spread as far as they could within the tub, and he took that as an invitation to increase his pace as his other hand cupped and massaged your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers with small pinches.

He worked you quickly and with ease. Within a minute, your head was tilted back against his shoulder as he watched his hand work you beneath the water, your body tensing and flexing each time he passed the pads of his fingers over you. Quicker and quicker he circled, increasing the pressure until that familiar sound of your heavy panting greeted his ears and your hips rocked, causing your back to press against his hard cock. He pressed kisses against your jaw line, your neck, and he watched your face as your eyes fluttered closed and your brows drew together, your mouth slightly parted.

You came with a groan, your back arching against him, and he maintained his pace, his digits circling vigorously as he whispered soft praises into your ear.

“Good girl. My beautiful girl...”

As the pleasure receded to a low hum across your skin, you slumped against him with a sigh and closed eyes. After a moment, you opened your eyes and looked at him. He smiled and kissed you.

“What was that for?” you asked.

“Do I need a reason?” he replied. His hands caressed your shoulders as his lips grazed the curve of your ear. “Because I wanted to,” he whispered.

You turned as best you could in the tub and kissed him tenderly.

You wanted to reciprocate, to run your fingers through his dark green hair as you washed it, to cleanse his pale skin with soap on your palms and affection in your touch. You wanted to make him feel as good as you felt, to know the weight of him in your hand, your mouth...

But he spoke first.

“Come,” he ordered.

Before you could protest, Barbatos disentangled himself from you and stepped lithely out of the tub. He grabbed one towel and wrapped it around his lean frame. Then he grabbed a second towel for you and held it open in quiet invitation. Unable to say no, you stood and stepped out of the tub, the cool air of the bathroom kissing your skin for only a moment as turned your back to him. He wrapped the soft cloth around you, his arms wrapping around you as he did so. He pulled you close against him until his chin rested on your shoulder.

“There is a spare robe on the rack by the door,” he explained. “And you may borrow any of my clothes if you so wish. I will make us a fresh batch of tea.”

With a kiss planted against your wet hair, he stepped away. You watched as he abandoned his towel and grabbed his other robe, pulling his arms through the sleeves before crossing the fabric over his nudity and tying the sash. With a brief glance and a small smile, he stepped out and closed the door, as if to give you privacy you no longer needed.

You breathed a heavy breath slowly from your lungs, allowing the release to steady you as you processed the reality of all that had transpired thus far.

The mellow acceptance you’d felt earlier when Barbatos was with you gave way to a mixture of elation and shock that hummed through your body and mind, reverberating against your isolation within the bathroom. It felt as if your heart would explode, the beating muscle unable to keep up with the demands of the emotions that swirled inside of you like a vortex. You felt up-ended, chaotic, yet free.

This wasn’t at all how you thought this would happen. You had always pictured the process as slow, requiring a level of patience you weren’t entirely sure you possessed. You’d ease into it, learn how to navigate Barbatos’s complexity on a level that you had yet to explore or fully understand, like learning to sail for the first time in uncharted waters.

Instead, the tether of caution, of safety, had been snapped from its mooring, and now you felt you were spinning, drifting, carried out on a heavy tide with no knowledge of where it led or how to navigate it; a small boat in deep waters, large waves, and not a paddle to be found.

You wanted to trust in it. To trust in him. To trust the softness of his touch, the delicacy of his kisses, the honesty of his words.

You wanted to trust that you would be kept safe, protected; that your small little boat would not be capsized by the weight of all that he was – an ancient, timeless, a creature beyond human understanding. You wanted to trust that he would not let you drown, would not let you sink into the bottomless black, dragged deep by the limits of your mortality and understanding.

To trust your heart to him, your soul... it was like trusting the ocean to be kind to you, as if the ocean were anything but indifferent.

But Barbatos was not indifferent. In fact, he was far from it. But he wasn’t human, either. His view of life, death, the world... it went far beyond your own comprehension, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you, in all of your insignificance, had managed to even catch his attention to begin with, let alone hold his eye.

You began to gather yourself, your movements slow and sluggish as you dried your body. Your thighs and your cunt ached, but it was pleasurable, a soft reminder of the intimacy you’d shared. It helped root you to the present, to tear your eyes away from that distant, unknown horizon and focus on the sand beneath your feet.

You stepped out of the bathroom to the smell of a sweet, floral fragrance. You quickly noticed the new bedding on his bed, and wondered if you’d lost track of time, or if he’d used magic to quickly change them. Either way, it looked ready to sleep in.

Barbatos was by the small table with a fresh pot of tea, the arrangement prepared. He was still in his robe, the silky fabric loosely open towards the top providing a pleasant view of his chest. He looked up from when you entered and smiled as his eyes raked over your figure.

“Perhaps I should let you keep that,” he said.

You looked down at the robe. “If I did, then it’d have to come back with me to the House of Lamentation,” you teased as you walked towards him.

Barbatos narrowed his eyes. “Then, perhaps not. Such beauty should be for my eyes only.”

He took you into his arms as soon as you were within reach and kissed you. Then he motioned to the table and chairs.

“Tea?” he offered.

You laughed. “Yes.”

You both sat, the air between you warm and comfortable, the conversation between you flowing easily. It eased your nerves and quieted your fears. In private moments like this, it didn’t matter that you were a human, and he was a demon. What mattered was the happiness, the laughs, the comfort it brought you to be in his presence. The foundation of the two of you remained, and yet there was a newness that coated it, a novelty and open curiosity. Your feet played with his under the table; his tail teased your leg. And the looks shared were a newly opened secret, an invitation to explore each other’s hearts, while sensitive hands itched to explore each other’s bodies.

Once the tea was gone, the conversation moved to the couch in front of the fire. You curled yourself up against Barbatos’s side as your eyes watched the flames dance.

“How come I’ve never heard the Divine Language before?” you asked, your brow furrowed. “I talk to you and all the other demons and angels just fine.”

Barbatos gave a small smile. “That’s because we are naturally fluent in every language. We speak to you in your language because we have to.”

Your head lifted from his shoulder. “Really? I mean, I guess that makes sense...I just...huh. Never really thought about it.”

Your head went back to its resting place.

“I did mean it, earlier…” he said softly. “You were safe at the opera.”

You were silent for a long moment. “I believe you. But for me, as a mortal, even the slightest possibility of not being safe was terrifying.”

Barbatos’s arm tightened around you. “I assure you; I had multiple failsafes in place in the highly unlikely possibility that I was incorrect.”

You lifted your head again to look at him. “Like what?”

He glanced at you and returned his gaze to the fire. “In the worst-case scenario, I was prepared to teleport you instantly.”

“But that’s not the worst-case…” you said softly. “Worst-case would be if teleporting is too late.”

Barbatos was silent for a long moment, his expression locked in stillness. “If such a thing happened, then I would be forced to use my ability.”

“With Lord Diavolo’s permission…”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Yes, of course.”

You didn’t feel entirely convinced by his response, which alarmed you. Barbatos was always absolute in not using his time travel ability without the Prince’s explicit permission or instruction. Even the hint of possibility that his commitment to that single, most important rule would potentially falter... because of you...

“However,” he continued, his gentle smile returning, “even average humans can withstand the power of the Divine Language for at least a few minutes.”

Relief filled you. “Really?”

“How do you think God and his angels talked to the prophets?” He grinned. “So, I will tell you again, you were safe.”

You smiled appreciatively at his reassurances, but it dissipated as you had another curious thought.

“If you were so worried about the risks and had so many plans in place, why didn’t you just... not invite me? Or maybe take me somewhere else?”

Barbatos gave a small, embarrassed laugh. “Yes, I did consider that option first. However, we’d already been struggling to find time for each other recently. And I did not want the young master’s efforts to go to waste, even though he hadn’t considered the concerns regarding the Divine Language.” He tilted his head slightly as he watched the flames. “Besides, I thought the love story was somewhat... fitting.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. In a strange way, it was. You snuggled tighter against him.

An idea popped into your head.

“Can you speak the Divine Language?” you asked.

“Of course, I can. I am a demon after all.”

You looked up at him again, your eyes shining. “Say something to me.”

Barbatos stared down at you with wide eyes. “Like what?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know... Whatever you want.”

Barbatos stared at you as he thought. Then he took a hesitant breath and spoke.

The sounds were a melody, a chorus of voice tuned to his deep tone. It washed over you gently, blanketing you until every inch of you felt warm and safe. It chased away your fears of death and loss, and instead, it made you want to trust him with your life. His finger gently traced the line of your jaw as he spoke, a gentle smile on his lips. It was short, lasting mere seconds, yet it somehow felt longer.

Silence fell between you as your mind gradually cleared.

“Did you understand it that time?” he asked curiously.

“I... I don’t know. Was I supposed to?”

“It was directed at you, so I had hoped you would.”

“It wasn’t so much words, but more of a... feeling?”

“What did it feel like?”

“Being safe... and warm... Is that how it works? Through feelings and pictures?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I’ve never been human.”

You made a face. “Eh, that’s okay. It’s overrated.”

He laughed deep and rich, and the sound of it made you laugh too, the joy contagious. Then his smile faded, and he tilted his head at you.

“So, what did you say?” you asked.

Barbatos was silent for a moment, as if debating with himself. Finally, he spoke quietly, his voice solemn. “I told you I will always protect you.”

Your stared at him with parted lips, hoping to find the words that could equal his own, but there were none. Instead, you kissed him gently, your hand cupping his jaw. He reciprocated, his hand covering yours as his arm tightened around you. It made the latent desire in you reawaken, and you deepened the kiss with your tongue. Barbatos welcomed you, his mouth opening with yours, his warm tongue swiping and tasting.

You hummed and crawled into his lap, your legs straddling him. The action forced your robe to part below the sash, exposing yourself to him. The sight brought a pleased hum into the back of his throat, and his kisses deepened, battling your tongue for supremacy. His grip on you tightened, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips through the fabric to pull you closer against him.

His cock awakened within seconds, hard and hot, and you pressed your wet cunt against the length of it. You rolled your hips until your clit rubbed against him, and moaned into his mouth. He swallowed the sound with his tongue swiping along yours as his hands forced your hips to roll on him again. Your hands began to untie the sash of his robe and he chuckled against your lips.

“Again?” he teased.

The sash gave way, and you pushed the edges of his robe aside to expose the length of his body beneath you. “Shut up,” you replied playfully as you savored the feel of his chest with your hands.

Barbatos’s cock twitched beneath you, and he began untying your robe in return. “You lose your manners when you’re horny,” he grinned. “My impatient little human.”

He pushed the robe off your shoulders, and it dropped behind you off the couch. He started at your silhouette in the firelight, his hands caressing your curves.

Your hand wrapped around the shaft of him and gave him a couple of languid strokes, teasing the flushed head with your thumb. Barbatos closed his eyes and hummed.

You tutted at him. “Yes, well this impatient little human is going to ride your very big demon cock,” you breathed lustfully.

He growled low, and when he opened his eyes, they glowed like emeralds caught in sunlight. “You should be careful what you say to a demon, my dear.” He watched through heavy-lidded eyes as you lined yourself up with him, your dripping cunt hovering over his cock head. “I have more control than most, but even I have my limits.”

His grip on your hips tightened, fingernails digging into soft flesh, as you lowered yourself onto him slowly, your gaze hazy and lovesick. Your eyes rolled back, your lids closing, as you reached the base of his cock, taking every inch, his tip pressing deep into you. It ached, your body still sore from earlier. It blended with the burning pleasure as he stretched you, creating a sweet harmony of love and pain, pleasure and danger. You rocked your hips slightly, then slid back up, only to come back down again with a slowness that even rivaled Barbatos’s patience.

“Then again…” he muttered as his eyes watched his cock disappear into you, “perhaps I made you wait too long.”

You moaned softly, your head nodding in hazy affirmation as you slid up and down his cock again. Barbatos’s hands began to move your hips, forcing you to rub your clit against him with each descent. The pressure of his hands forced you to quicken your pace.

“Humans…” he continued teasingly as he watched your breasts start to bounce deliciously. “You always want everything now, now, now.”

Your eyes were closed in ecstasy, your head lolling back. Your lips curled into a grin. “Are you saying I’m spoiled?” you breathed.

He forced you down harder onto his cock and you moaned as your cunt tightened. Fresh arousal coated his shining shaft, dripping slowly down his balls.

“Not yet, my sweet girl. But you will be.”

Then Barbatos wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close against him as he snapped his hips up to meet yours, his cock slamming into you. You yelped and clung to him, your face buried into his neck. He did it again. And again. Each time, he pushed your hips down to meet his as he thrusted. Each time you cried out in high pitched whines as your breaths were knocked from your lungs. And each time, his cock grew harder and harder as he felt his own pleasure rapidly rising. Your body caught his fast rhythm, your thighs and your hips working yourself frantically on his cock as you rode him. Your breasts were pressed against him, his teeth digging into your collarbone as you panted, your whines rising in pitch with each hit of your sensitive walls. Your hands gripped the couch on either side of his head, your brows drawn together as you chased the release you so desperately craved.

Barbatos looked up at you, watched the curve of your neck, your jaw. Watched every little way your muscles and tendons twitched and spasmed as the tension built within you. His own pleasure was building swiftly, and he was determined to have you cum with him while he spilled himself inside your sensitive walls. His thick tail wrapped around your waist, the tips of it dipping between your legs. The tips were dexterous, wet and warm, and they tickled your clit, pressing against it, pinching, swiping. With your eyes squeezed shut it nearly felt like being eaten out while being fucked.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” you cried.

He timed it perfectly, your orgasm cascading over you just as his crested, his load filling you as you rode him. He couldn’t suppress the grunts and groans that overtook him, couldn’t fight the way his strong hands forced you down onto him over and over again with brutal intensity as his tail tightened around you. You cried his name, wrapped in moans of pleasure as the tears in your eyes finally spilled over, leaving wet tracks on your cheeks that dripped onto his shoulder.

He felt them, cold, wet drops landing on his hot skin. He took your face in his hands and kissed you passionately as his tail kept you in place, helping your body to rut against him through the final stretch of your shared orgasm, his cock twitching the last drops into your cunt.

Finally, his tail relaxed around your waist, and you collapsed against him with your arms around his neck and your face buried into his shoulder. Your entire body heaved as your lungs gasped for air. The elation pumping through your veins faded away to reveal the pain waiting beneath it in the form of burning thighs, fiery lungs, and a cunt that felt bruised and battered.

Barbatos’s hands gently caressed your back as he waited for you to recover. Once your breaths steadied and your heart no longer pounded loud enough for Barbatos to hear it, he spoke.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

There was a pause that worried him, and then you nodded your head against his shoulder.

But you didn’t speak yet, and so he continued. “Was I too rough?”

Your response was quicker this time, your head shaking in denial.

He gave a soft, worried chuckle. “Can you talk?”

You giggled softly and forced yourself to sit up just enough to look at him. Your face was shining with sweat, and your eyes looked tired. “I’m okay, I promise,” you finally said. Then you laid against him again, your body feeling like stretched out rubber.

He tightened his arms around your waist and kissed your shoulder. “Do you feel satisfied yet?” he asked.

You laughed against him, even though the action made your ribs ache. The richness of it warmed him, pushing his lingering worries back to the distant horizon of his mind.

“Yes, very much so,” you replied. “But I probably won’t be able to do that again tonight.”

Barbatos sat up slightly from his slouched position, and the action made you wince, his soft cock still nestled inside you.

He paused for a moment before making you sit up enough to look at him.

“You’re hurt,” he commented, his brow furrowed.

“I’m sore, there’s a difference,” you replied with a grin. “Don’t worry, I promise I’m fine. I’m just... gonna move real slow for a while.”

“You will not move at all until you’re well again,” he replied firmly.

You put your forehead to his, a playful grin on your lips. “Hmm, does that mean I get to stay in your bed while you dote on me?”

Barbatos smirked and he kissed you with a peck. “Perhaps...”

“Then yes,” you replied. “I’m sore. So sore. Suffering, even. I don’t think I’ll be able to move for a week.”

“And what makes you think you’ll be able to recover so quickly if you’re in my bed?” he replied mischievously as his hands lightly squeezed your ass.

“Barbatos,” you scolded mockingly, “are you telling me that you would take advantage of me in my weakened state? That’s not very gentlemanly of you.”

Barbatos chuckled. “I’m a demon, not an angel,” he replied. “I told you earlier even I have my limits.” He kissed you softly. “But... I promise to be gentle.”

You kissed him softly in return. Then he wrapped his arms and tail around you, and this time you were prepared as he lifted you up again and carried you once more to the bathroom.

He was dutiful in his care, his touches gentle and patient. And when you were both clean again, he picked you up in his arms again and carried you to his bed, a gesture you were quickly growing accustomed to. He set you gently into the plush bedding and followed after you, pulling his thick, clean covers over the both of you. As soon as your head hit his pillow, sleep claimed you, your eyes drifting shut as you drank in the warmth of his skin against yours. They would not open again until the morning.

And as you slept, Barbatos stared at you in the dying firelight of the late night. His fingers absently danced along your arm, your hair, your back. And as he touched you gently, the time passed, seconds into minutes, and minutes into hours. The embers turned to ash, the room pitched into blackness, and Barbatos still could not sleep, as he battled within himself. Finally, in defeat, he allowed himself one confession, to be spoken barely at a whisper in a language your soul would feel but your brain would not understand. The lilting, singing words spoken on a divine, immortal tongue drifted past his lips, unable to be recalled or undone.

“I love you.”

#obey me shall we date #om barbatos #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x mc #obey me barbatos x you #obey me barbatos x reader #barbatos x reader #barbatos x mc #barbatos x you

250 notes · View notes

notsodailykurudoro · 3 months ago

Text

day 35

He gently pressed dried lips against the bandaged hand, barely peeping at the taller figure in front of him with a hint of smugness, internally eager to witness his reaction, he couldn't help but smile.

As the Craftsman slowly retreated, seconds that passed for entire lives buzzed inside the thief’s skull, almost too numb to process correctly the gesture and nevertheless lacking the time to act accordingly, his disastrous cognitive process managing to make him give a short bow.

“The pleasure would be no one’s but mine.” He expressed, polite, a hand resting on his chest solemnly.

Struggling with his own bubbling emotions, he offered his previously kissed hand to the mechanic who gladly took it with it’s own.

“Pretentious prig.” Kururu mocked, barely audible among the noisy ballroom that still echoed downstairs, the ballads high enough for them to take that chance there and now.

Devilishly cheesy, the redhead considered, quickly sparing a glance at the exit of the balcony and entrance to the site, making sure that no one was ready to intrude and trying to not give chances to the thought of what would the consequences be if someone stupid or nosy enough were to witness him and another man slow dancing on that secluded corner of the manor to pinch the back of his head.

He grabbed Dororo's waist, holding him as they both positioned themselves right, a very primal muscle memory playing an important part in such activity.

“Do try not to yell if i step on ya’”

“I trust you wholeheartedly” Zero laughed before saying, already starting to sway with the smaller man in arms.

They enjoyed a certain ability, an ability that was instilled many years ago, to one by decision and the other by obligation, by a custom rooted in the putrid scheme that had been drawn for decades in both of their worlds, which weren’t that far apart.

“This’a good one.” The craftsman noted.

“Which is?” The thief replied.

“The tune.”

“You mean the song?”

“Aye, used to repeat it a few times to get the signature right.”

“On the talking machine?”

“Before it flumped on my brother’s head, at least.”

“You've got a brother?”

“Now you tryna get me maggin’” Kururu grinned.

“Oh, I apologize-” He shrank very slightly on the grip. “I do tend to forget you're not much of a talker.”

“Cannae get too carried away making children’s shoes.”

A cackle, that peculiar monosyllabic giggle again, Dororo could never get used to it, and not in a bad way, he softened, a smirk of his own accompanying the blush of his covered face.

“I guess not…”

It was a bit chilly outside, the air whistled, passing through broken windows and worn boards, indistinguishable voices, far away music and drunken stupor characteristic of a Saturday night feeding the white noise.

Zero never had major trouble with keeping eye contact, Unlike Kururu, who needed to look away from other people or movement to concentrate on what they were saying, as well as feeling uncomfortable after at least 5 minutes of holding it. And yet, something made him want to continue staring at the other man’s gaze, it made him uneasy in the best of ways, that glassy tone that you would only find in a well-preserved corpse, it almost incited him to grab forks and take them out to study, to see if he would still stare so astonishingly to a Dororo with bleeding, empty eye sockets. He grinned further.

“Guess I owe you, though.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I know anything I can know about you, Conveyancer.”

“Is that so?”

“Yessir.”

“Well you’ll have to find the heart to forgive because I highly doubt it.”

Kururu snorted before they both gave a spin on par with the music.

“Now I don't need to empty the bag, do I, Your Majesty?”

Dororo froze, erratically following the craftsman with the dance.

“...I-... Do not seem to follow, I have no idea of what you're getting at with such nonsense…!”

“Don’t play stupid on me, Gollumpus, gonna have to try harder than that.”

“I’m not…! What makes you believe that i am, of all people, a member of royalty?”

Kururu took the lead, clearly enjoying himself, he handled the ‘thief’ as he kept ranting.

“The break-teeth words? Fancy rags? Issues with that skank ya callin’ a mother?”

“M-My mother is a very respectable woman, thank you very much!”

“How ‘bout pops?”

“... I’ve got a feeling that you're the one that’s making me wanna ‘empty the bag’.”

“Dodgin’ bullets tonight, are we? Kuu-ku-ku-”

“C-Can be put that way.”

Dororo said, looking away from him, trying to keep himself from laughing. It was hard to put on the nonchalant facade, Zero always thought that he was at least somewhat good at keeping himself at ease in almost every situation, It is necessary to know how to stay calm to handle things better, however, Kururu seemed to know how to press his buttons, all the time, as if he could read every word and movement he could muster like an open, abandoned book. At times, it could be quite scary, but it was also flattering, because someone was taking the time and dedication to pay attention at what he was doing and why.

Such a shame that the glass-eyed ginger was like that with almost everyone.

“Okay, think I gotcha something.”

The blue haired man turned his attention back to the freckled one.

“Y’can ask three questions, then i can ask three, we don't need to get into much detail, and we can stop with the tilly-tally mind games. How'zat?”

Pondering, the noble slowly pulled away from Kururu, as if running equations on his mind, considering. Kururu fidgeted on his place, out of sight from Dororo to not give away his own facade.

“A tempting offer…” Mustered the blue-eyed man.

“Buuuuut?”

“... Very well then, it does sound amusing.”

He smiled, closing his eyes briefly, and the smaller one grinned widely.

And as the night passed, the two of them now knew each other a little more than they had that morning.

no beta we fucking die like viper

#kurudoro #keroro gunso #dororo #kururu #sgt frog

26 notes · View notes

softpascalito · 1 year ago

Text

Pedro Pascal Kinktober Day Six

Frottage - Frankie Morales/F!Reader

Summary: After a flying lesson, you find yourself drawn to the man in the pilot seat. Luckily for you, Frankie knows exactly what you need.

Relationships: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

WC: 1500

Tags/Warnings: Smut, Explicit Content, Established Relationship, Dirty Talk, Frottage, Coming in Pants, Bad Jokes

AO3 LINK

notes: hello babes! todays piece is dedicated to the wonderful (and quite frankie obsessed) people of tds. they are the most supportive peeps who will patiently listen to all my horny thoughts and fic ideas so im sending them some extra love and hope they enjoy today especially.

_______________________________

“That wasn't so bad,” The man next to you mumbles as he reaches for the controls, flipping a few switches as he stops the engines of the small plane. His hands expertly wander between the many controls, a similar expertise to the one he has shown when his hands wander over your body instead.

Your heart, beating faster from the thrill of the landing, slowly calms down as you unbuckle yourself from your co-pilot seat and push the steering device back.

You turn your head to the side, glancing over at Frankie, who is still busy turning everything off. The top buttons of his shirt are undone, allowing his bronze chest to peek out. He takes off his aviators, shoving them onto the opening of the shirt, where they dangle for a split moment before settling against his chest. His favorite cap is still on his head, sitting below the headset that is only resting on one ear, allowing him to hear you as well as possible radio chatter.

His eyes fly over to you and suddenly you feel caught, blushing slightly as he smirks knowingly. You take your own headset off, now turning your entire body towards him and your foot sneaks into his lap. He reaches out without hesitance, taking your ankle and pulling it onto his leg. His rough hands soothingly stroke over the soft skin peeking out.

“You enjoy your lesson, baby?” He asks softly and you nod truthfully.

“I did. Even though I didn't expect this when you said you wanted to teach me something new .”

Frankie frowns a little at that:” What did you think?”

Your blush deepens in response to the question and he raises a brow as he realizes what you're implying. ”You thought I wanted to teach you something dirty?”

A small shrug is all you can muster but you notice how his hand squeezes your ankle a little tighter as he speaks and you have a feeling that he's open to the idea of teaching you in more than the flying department. You realize he's waiting for a response and you mumble:” No?” Your features carry a small pout as you tell the quite obvious lie but you can't bring yourself to care.

Frankie just chuckles as he watches you, ”I don't think I need to teach you any of that.” His voice drops slightly, ”You didnt seem to be so inexperienced when you let me fuck your throat last week.”

You almost choke on your own salvia the way you had choked on his cock a few days earlier with the way he talks so nonchalantly about it. It gets to you, you know that much, and you squirm in your seat a little.

His hand wanders up your leg and you gaze at him, longing for the man to finally touch you properly. You decide to follow your own instincts, getting up and moving over to him.

Frankie keeps his hand on your body, letting it settle onto your waist as you tower above him.

You press yourself against him and reach for the headset, sliding it off him along with his cap to find his dark, messy hair below. It's a little damp from the heat and sweat and you bury your nose in it, taking in his scent.

Frankie hums softly below you, the vibrations carrying on to your lips, ”What do you need, princess?” He mumbles as his hand slides over the fabric of your clothes and he gently cups your ass.

“Need you.” You mumble back, not caring how desperate you sound at this point.

His throat vibrates with a low chuckle and he can feel his own blood rushing downwards at the thoughts that are slowly taking up his mind.

He pulls you down into his lap and you willingly spread your legs, feeling his hardness below you, the khaki pants doing nothing to hide the growing bulge between his own legs.

The seatbelt is still strapping him into the seat and you reach down to undo it when he shakes his head, tutting softly.

“C'mere.” Frankie plants his foot firmly on the floor of the plane and moves you so that you're on his leg and you whimper at the small friction the shift provides, your core already throbbing with need.

He has both hands on your waist, holding you steady as he leans forward to kiss you. Your lips crash together and just from that, he can feel how needy you are.

You aggressively push your tongue against his lips until he opens up and you enter his mouth, licking into it, mixing your salvia and using your teeth to pull on his lower lip until you both are out of breath.

Frankie matches your eagerness and as your tongues swirl around each other, you gently start moving your hips. His grip on you tightens and he starts moving you back and forth in your own rhythm, adding to the friction between your legs. The seam of your jeans perfectly aligns with your clit, agonizingly slowly rubbing the spot that is usually occupied by Frankie's hand or mouth.

You gasp as you realize what he's doing, ”Frankie-”

He shushes you, his tongue darting out to lick your cheek. ”Come on, baby, get yourself off on my knee, hm?” He mutters under his breath, ”I know you need it bad.”

He's right. He's right and you hate him for it but you're too eager to argue so you let go of the shame as you start riding his leg in earnest, your clit tingling with the sensation despite the layers of fabric between you.

You whine softly as Frankie too doubles his efforts and his lips move lower, sucking on your neck and you know there'll be evidence of this in the morning. Frankie is always the cause of little marks that he leaves all over your body, for you to find when you glance in the small mirror cabinet in your bathroom. Frankie is also the reason said mirror cabinet holds several types of long-lasting coversticks, an investment you had to start making in order to be able to wear anything other than turtlenecks.

The feeling of your panties being caught between your slit, adding to the intensity of the friction combined with Frankie still moving you, sucking on your neck- It's already all too much and too soon you feel the familiar heat starting to pool in your stomach, gasping slightly at the sudden sensation, ”Frankie-”

You whisper his name again and he smirks against your skin, a thin layer of sweat covering both of you. ”That's it, princess. Make yourself come in your pants.”

Moving faster, another whine escapes you and then you do as he requested, coming undone fully dressed on top of his khaki pants, that have become uncomfortably tight for him at this point. Watching you lose yourself on him like that, without even being touched, does more to Frankie than he would have thought. He likes it.

You whimper his name as you collapse against him, eyes screwing shut while you ride out your orgasm. When your chest falls against his, you instantly feel two strong arms wrapping around you, holding you up as your body goes limp and he whispers into your ear.

“That's my good girl.” He praises and you shiver a bit, squirming slightly and feeling that your panties are completely soaked with your own juices.

It's not until you've finally caught your breath, his palm rubbing soothing circles into your back as you come down from your high, that you realize he must be eager too and your hand sneaks down between your bodies, wandering past the fabric of his slightly open shirt towards his belt. The motion makes Frankie tense up slightly, ”What are you trying to do, baby?” He whispers under his breath and you can't stop a smirk from creeping onto your face.

“Taking care of you?” You mumble back and his eyes travel from your face to the angry, red hickeys on your neck that he had left there mere minutes before. He seems caught on them for a moment, mesmerized by the spots that mark you as his, for everyone to see.

Then your words fully reach him and as they register in his head, he slowly raises a brow, ”Here? Now?”

“Well, it is called a cockpit for a reason.” You reply with a smirk and with that, your hand is on his belt.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #fanfic #frankie morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales / reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales / you #kinktober #smut #softpascalito

93 notes · View notes

angelwheat · 6 months ago

Text

Primis "Tank" Dempsey X Reader

"And as she wept, stars fell from her eyes..."

Topics: Angst! (Negative Self-Talk , Hurt/Comfort , Fluff)

Author's Note: (Please Read) This story is a bit of a reflection of my own mind during a time I was feeling pretty low. Despite initially writing this for myself, I'm sharing because other's might find comfort in it too.

Pronouns: She/Her | Words: 1502

Modern AU

A clear break in the clouds seemed like a blessing after a long week of persistent rain. Despite summer being just around the corner, the rainfall was certainly making is dreary self-known before any sunshine could grace the land.

Night swiftly ushered the daylight away that evening. The moon rose high above the horizon, beautifying the sky with a milky sheen as the stars flickered under its gentle glow. Fortunately, there was not a single puff of cloud in sight.

(Y/n) sits lonesome on the steps of the back porch, knees pulled up close to her chest as she rests her feet just a step below. With her head tilted to the glistening sky, she gazes in wonder. Mentally, she drew lines between the clusters of sparkling dots above, connecting them to name each familiar constellation, the images they created ever so vivid in her mind.

She let her head rest in her hands, a lazy huff slipping past her lips.

A light tap on the door sounded behind her beckoned her attention away. She peeped over her shoulder and was greeted by an awkward lopsided smile from her companion, Dempsey, who stood in the doorway of the kitchen, the warm light emitting from inside glowing around him.

“You alright out here, missy?” He asked, the concern evident in his softer tone.

(Y/n) smiled weakly. “Yeah, it’s just…”

Dempsey followed with his eyes when she pointed upwards. The corners of his lips curled, and instinctively, he found himself coming to sit beside her.

“I just felt a little cooped up all week.” She told.

Dempsey’s arms rested atop his knees as he huffed. “Yeah I hear ya.”

A quiet sigh caught his attention. Dempsey met her eyes, his brows raised. Immediately he noticed that her gaze was continuously pointed upwards. He couldn’t bring himself to turn away as he took in the sight of her beady-eyed stare, merely absorbed in the wonders above their heads.

But something struck him strange by the way she seemed almost downcast; her expression contoured under the moonlight with a hint of gloominess. Although only subtly, yet Dempsey could read it clearly.

“You’ve been… kinda quiet all day.” He said, somewhat sounding unsure.

She lazily flicked her gaze to her side, met with Dempsey’s worried pup-like eyes. He hastily scanned her fatigued appearance.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, girlie?” He asked, pure sincerity in his low tone.

(Y/n) slumped as a heavy breath slipped into the night air. She let her head rest in the palms of her hands, avoiding his attentive stare.

“I’ve just been thinking I guess.” She shrugged, breathing shakily.

Sensing the heaviness looming over her, Dempsey placed a hand on her back, stroking gingerly in hope to soothe her.

“Talk to me.” He softly encouraged.

His gentle words brought tears to her eyes, but she wiped them away before they dared to roll down her cheeks. Feeling a cluster of emotion bubble up inside, she felt her chest growing tighter with each shallow breath.

She shook her head, attempting to clear her muddled up thoughts.

“I’ve just been wondering…” She started, her meek voice trembling.

Dempsey inched closer without a word, never reeling his gaze away from her.

“I’ve been wondering why I’m the one you chose.” She confessed, sounding choked up.

Evidently, Dempsey was taken aback by her words as his eyes widened. He was almost rendered speechless.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

(Y/n) wiped a hand over her face, feeling her cheeks hot and flushed.

“Well, you have so many options.” She lazily gestured before her with a hand. “Why’d you choose me?”

For the first time in his life, Dempsey truly was at a loss for words, solely due to shock.

“How could I not choose you?” He asked genuinely.

“I don’t know…” She hid her face behind her hands. “But is there not something more that you want? Someone better…”

When she almost curled up on herself, and a series of sniffles filled his ears, Dempsey turned himself towards her fully.

“Come ‘ere, darlin’” He scooped her into his arms delicately.

(Y/n) allowed herself to be completely enveloped in his embrace, hiding her face away as she cuddled up against his chest. Dempsey could feel the way she quivered as she fought to contain her cries, feeling a pang of woe in his heart as he recalled her words in his head.

For a short while, he remained silent, merely holding her snuggly in his arms and subconsciously rocking gently as her uneven breaths soon steadied. (Y/n) wiped her tear-stained cheeks and sat put in silence for a moment.

“Why would you think that I’d want someone else?” Dempsey asked in an undertone.

In response, (Y/n) merely shrugged. She sat herself upright in his lap, enough to meet his eyes, immediately catching a glance at his troubled face. Dempsey’s hand reached up to gingerly caress her cheek, wiping away the pool of tears beneath her reddened eyes with his thumb.

“I’m so tired of myself, Dempsey.” She confessed, her voice trembling.

Dempsey let his hands rest of her waist as he listened intently, his focus solely on the woman in his arms.

“And I worry…” She trailed off, looking down while she fiddled with her hands in her lap.

Dempsey’s rounded eyes analysed her in every way, patiently waiting for her next string of words.

“I just worry that you get tired of me too.” She told, beginning to fret. “And then I know I’m too much and I’m hard work and- “

“Hey- hey.” Dempsey swiftly cut her rambling short.

With every word she spoke sent a pang of hurt through his chest. (Y/n) swallowed the lump in her throat, continuing to avoid his eyes and missing the way Dempsey was visibly taken aback.

“I’ll never get tired of you.” He assured sincerely, his soft hold on her waist briefly tightening.

(Y/n) sighed, slumping slightly. “You’re just saying that.”

Dempsey drew in a deep breath. “Look at me.”

In mere seconds, their gazes locked. Her brows rose and her eyes glossed over with new tears when Dempsey observed her attentively.

(Y/n) continued to fidget with her hands, anxiety practically eating her alive in that moment, prompting Dempsey to take her hands in his.

“You are never too much.” He spoke, emphasising his honesty.

Such genuineness was certainly apparent in his mannerisms. Dempsey’s eyes shined a glint of only the earnestness love for her, and (Y/n) found herself unable to tear her gaze away from his gorgeous blue-eyed stare.

Dempsey held her hand to his chest. (Y/n) could feel the way his heartbeat steadily, easing her racing mind as she focused on him. Dempsey allowed her to ground herself for a moment.

“From what you said earlier, I chose you because- well-“ He shrugged nonchalantly. “Because you’re the one I fell for.”

The girl could sense the way he was thinking deeply to string the correct words together. He was always more of a man to show rather than tell. But at times in which one would immensely let their guard down and show their vulnerability, Dempsey always proved himself to be more heartfelt with his words than he ever let on.

“And there’s no one else I want more. I’ll tell you that.” He added.

Dempsey reached up to tuck a lock of hair, blown askew by the breeze, behind her ear. He smiled softly when his eyes met with her own, enticing her lips to curl up meekly.

“Don’t get yourself worked up about things like this, alright?” He told. “Because nothing is gonna change the way I feel about you.”

When (Y/n) wrapped her arms around his shoulders, she was certain she could see stars in his eyes in that moment, or perhaps it was merely the glimmer of sincerity. But whatever it may have been, it surely captivated her, drawing her closer.

With the moonlight wrapping her in it’s heavenly blanket, Dempsey truly believed he beheld an angel.

However, Dempsey noticed the way in which she chewed her lip anxiously, her glances flicking from his eyes to her lap.

His hands clutched her waist. “What ’cha thinkin’, missy?”

Despite Dempsey keeping his voice hushed, (Y/n) heard the slightly uplifted tone lacing his words. She couldn’t refrain a faint smile at his typical manner of speaking.

“I’m thinking about just how much I love you.” She shyly confessed.

The smile brought to Dempsey’s face (Y/n) couldn’t help but reflect. However, finding herself flustered suddenly, she buried her face in his shoulder when she hugged him tight. The warmth and comfort his strong embrace provided certainly put all her troubles at ease.

“I love you.” He stroked her back gingerly. “And I mean that from the bottom of my heart.”

(Y/n) pulled away enough to meet his eyes, unable to refrain from kissing his lips sweetly.

“I couldn’t ask for anything better in this world.” Dempsey declared. “Because you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

#tank dempsey #cod zombies #call of duty zombies #codz #call of duty #.♡#gun-slinging sweethearts

18 notes · View notes

b000mbayah · 2 years ago

Note

yandere aespa reaction to you confessing to them?👁👁

Sure thing anon :)

✎𝚈𝚘𝚞?﹏﹏﹏﹏𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎?﹏﹏﹏﹏𝙼𝚎?﹏﹏﹏﹏

Requested: Yes

Word count: 4,309

Warnings: None?

✎𝚈𝚘𝚞?﹏﹏﹏﹏𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎?﹏﹏﹏﹏𝙼𝚎?﹏﹏﹏﹏

Karina

Karina has spent the last eight months contemplating your relationship status. Sure, you are far closer than she could have ever comprehended the first time she saw you- but now that all just seems like some distant dream she has already surpassed. She very clearly remembers how beautiful you looked the first time you met as friends, how kind you were to her- all of these only fueled the fire she had already started for herself and eventually, that small fire on the tip of her match stick had grown into a full on bonfire. That day she'll treasure forever, like a sacred secret.

But now, seeing you standing at her front door through the small peep hole, she's more confused than ever- despite the overwhelming feeling of lush swirling around inside of her like a whirlpool. Without hesitation, she unlocked her front door, reeling the slab back from the frame to reveal a very bashful you. You shifted uncomfortably, shifting from one leg to the other with your hands held out in front of you. If Karina didn’t know you- and she thanks the lords that she does every day- then she would’ve guessed you were some shy girl scout… just without the uniform.

“Y/n? What are you doing?” She inquired, feeling somewhat conflicted by your sudden appearance. Your mouth only opened and closed though, resembling that of a fish. You looked lost, confused, but most concerning of all, you looked troubled.

"Come in, please" Stepping aside, she opened the door further. When you walked past her, she could basically feel the uncertainty radiating from you like a batch of heavy nuclear waste. To this, she frowned, following after you with many thoughts racing through her mind.

Once you both found a comfortable seat in her living room, she'd smile lightly as you only breathed in a sequence to calm yourself down.

"We need to talk"

Karina had almost instantly gulped, feeling a thick lump form in her throat at the sound of your roughed voice. It felt heavy, yet light, much like a buoy that just sat stationary within her tightening throat. She'd eye you carefully, noticing the poorly covered bags under your eyes and the small shake of your hands. Have you not slept?

"What's wrong? You look like you haven't slept, no offence"

Then it was your turn to pause as you looked down into your lap, bouncing your knee nervously. "That's because I haven't," you dryly admitted as Karina had cautiously moved closer, scooting over to your side. Her eyes felt heavy upon your skin, dangerous almost, like a wolf in sheep's clothing. "I've been thinking about someone… someone really close to me and I think I've come to the realisation that I- that I like them...?"

Karina leaned back lightly, feeling her world shatter in more ways than one. Her heart had plummeted into a pit of self-pity and jealousy while her brain worked hard at your words. You like someone? She's not an idiot, you could've said love. Or are you uncertain? Is there still that small slither of hope for her? She'll make the cut, she'll just have to expand the horizon no matter the cost if it means being with you.

"You like them?" Karina repeated half your words, throat still tight like a squeezed towel. You only sheepishly nodded though, eyes fixated on her and her reaction, and what you got was far from what you expected. You expected a little support for your love life, for her to seem genuinely happy about your choice, but how could you see that when you hadn't told her who "they" were.

"Yeah, very much so"

"Who are they?" Upon hearing her words, you flinch. It was so quick you were certain she hadn't noticed it, but she did and her dark eyebrows shot together, slightly creasing the skin between them.

"They're the most amazing person. They're cute, they're responsible, and they have manners like no other gentlewoman I've ever met" you silently bite at your lower lip, feeling your teeth sink painfully into the skin, but you needed a distraction from the jaded look on Karina's face and pain was the perfect volunteer.

"They sound nice" Karina resorted, gazing down to her own hands as they shook under the extreme condition of jealousy and fitted rage. "Their name?"

You gulped, fidgeting uncomfortably in your seat. Her reaction wasn't sitting well with you and your heart. She seemed almost violent with her wording, and you could tell she was ready to punch a hole through the wall if needed.

"Their name?"

You and Karina were close, friendship wise and physically. Your knees were close to brushing each other, and your shoulders so close you could feel the warmth emitting from her body. But what you have with her is special, like a shared star. It's the most precious and dearest thing you've ever had a grasp on and you're afraid if you say the wrong words- or do the wrong thing- she'll be out of your life forever. That star would then be a fragment of what once was a beating heart, now set to rest like a fatal pet upon its funeral bed.

But you have to take that leap in life sometimes. That's what makes life, life.

With one deep breath, you open your mouth, and the name almost falls crooked upon your tongue. You could feel your mouth go stale as your body tensed up. Never have you felt more afraid of rejection than you do right now.

"Karina"

But then the name crawled into her ears for her brain to process and her heart to examine. Her brain had broken the name up for a thorough inspection, diving deep for further inspections in the name and if it were truly hers or some misheard piece of information. So she needed clarification.

"Karina?"

You bit your lip even harder, finally drawing a drizzle of shiny blood as you nodded, repeating yourself.

"Karina"

It was spontaneous, the way she gripped your shoulders and kissed you hard. Yet, despite the kiss being needy, it felt far from it. The kiss you shared was passionate and most certainly possessive on her behalf.

There was a dominance in the way she pulled you impossibly closer till you were just mesh in her lap, moulding clay within her fingers.

And then she pulled away, cheeks flushed and eyes darting around your strawberry face.

"I like you too"

Giselle

You had ironically met at a coffee shop, like all cliché love stories. Giselle was a first-time customer who quickly grew accustomed to the heavy scent of coffee grains and the sight of natural hues. Wooden planks lined dividers and eco-friendly plants lined certain countertops.

But the place was deceiving.

The welcoming atmosphere was the polar opposite to what actually awaited her at the counter. You were calm and collected, just like the building itself. But what had made you so different was the way you made her feel.

Because while the building made her feel at home, you made her feel… different. You made her feel as if a dozen batches of nestled butterflies were hatching, making her insides flutter and tingle in a delectable way. You made her feel as if she was the only person in the room, that you were solely here for just her and her order. And so, because of this, she freshened her face with the brightest smile she could conduct before she set for the lingering line.

Giselle distinctively remembers how long the queue time felt. She remembers how she prayed that you would be the one to take her order with your monotone apron and pinned back hair. You looked stunning, even with the restricted view created by the heads of the incompetent infront of her.

There was just something fulfilling in the way you dashed around the area, informing your coworkers of the orders being made as transactions went through. You were just stunning.

So, it was no surprise that when you called upon the next customer in line, Giselle had practically thrown herself a small celebration within her mind. And of course, your voice was tender, and of course, you were polite. But your eyes? They seemed to be the most desirable feature upon you. They sparkled under the fluorescent lights, shining like a clean mirror as Giselle could practically see her giddy reflection within them. Your eyes seemingly controlled Giselle in ways she never thought to be possible.

When you finally called her name for her collection, Giselle had never been so in love with her own name. There was just something in the way you said it- how it lightly trespassed upon your tongue like a sin.

The cup felt warm between her fingers and palm, warming the appendages as she read over her own name repeatedly while taking small sips and obvious glances your way. It would be an absolute dream if you just locked eyes one more time.

And so she visited more often than not. Giselle would make an appearance before work, during her lunch breaks, after work. It was as if a day was never truly complete without visiting you- without stalking you.

Eventually, however, the font of her name was accompanied by the small doodle of whatever you pleased: a star, a smiley face… a heart… These made her smile like some love-drunk teenager all over again.

And not before long, you added another something else, changing everything all together as you instead put a small note, each one differing from the last. They were only little sentences like "How are you?" Or "Have a good day!". But each one held a firmer grip on her heart, and soon enough, it became far more addictive than any type of alcohol or drug or coffee, for you were her new addiction.

However, there was one issue. You've never actually exchanged any other words except for "the usual?" And "please". She could sense the mutual respect as one of the establishments highest paying customers at this point. But surely you weren't doing it just because of that? She's never seen you write on anyone else's cup the way you do for her. She's never seen you even remotely smile at any other customer the way you do for her.

So why must she feel so glum when she received a cup with nothing? There was just a blank spot on the sticker where her name- her doodle- her note was supposed to be? She would've taken anything, but nothing? That just seems too harsh to just suddenly stop.

Her head was too far up in the clouds to realise the shitty customer pestering you the entire time you were making her usual drink. So when she finally screwed her head back into place and took into account the situation, to say she was ready for murder was an understatement.

Giselle would unknowingly want this lady to bleed, to cry at her lack of mercy as she'd just slowly edge her towards death before aiding her to health, only to do it all again.

It was sick, but Giselle quite frankly couldn't care less about that. She cared more about getting her note and dealing with that woman (albeit at a later date).

So, with her bag flung over her barely exposed shoulder, she strode towards the till, where you were being harassed and humiliated for your "mistake" of an order.

It wasn't until she was basically standing side by side with the woman of many problems that you had noticed Giselle, turning to look at her apologetically as she just gave you a reassuring smile.

"Excuse me?" Giselle begins, interrupting the rampaging bull beside her as she squeezed into the conversation like it was a heated hot tub. "You uh- you forgot my note" She sheepishly held up her cup of steaming contents, her fingers wrapped around its curved frame delicately.

You only blinked at her, face slightly scrunched, but soon a smile grew before her eyes. She did that? Giselle had actually made you smile? If only you knew how many fantasies you were making come true with just the smile and light eye contact. "Ouh, I did? I'm sorry. Please, let me fix that?"

You held your hand out, sleeves rolled up to your elbows as your hand flexed slightly. To this, Giselle only blushed, handing you her cup as the woman before her scoffed in annoyance.

"So she gets a replacement!?"

"Oh, I'm not getting a replacement" Giselle smiled a crooked grin at the woman beside her.

"Here you go," you smiled, placing the black marker pen back down on the counter as you handed Giselle her drink once again. "Please enjoy" You gave her a half smile this time, blushing lightly as your fingers brushed against each other- there was no way you hadn't felt that too!

But deciding to question it later, Giselle took one last look at the rude customer, eyeing her up and down to get one last good look at her before turning on her heel to sit down at her designated booth once again.

With a hopeful sigh, Giselle took a small sip of her drink, finally deciding to look down and read the note you had just put on there.

There laid the arrangement of four simple words. Each one held value within the context of the small note, but the overall value was enough to send her heart flipping and somersaulting in pure ecstasy.

"Go out with me?"

Winter

It was destined from the very beginning- or so that's what Winter told herself every night. Every night, she spent alone in her room, cramped up into the corner of her bed- draped in different sheets and blankets as she just drew all things to do with you.

She'd draw your name in pretty pinks and emboid the empty surroundings with carefully drawn-out hearts and clouds. There would often be pages found with repetitive contents. Like pages of both your initials, conjoint by a single plus symbol.

But these were just silly little drawings, things little children would do to pair themselves up with their crushes within their innocent minds. But Winter wasn't a child anymore. She's an adult with "normal" adult thoughts and desires. And so she had a special book, one of carefully executed photos of you to accompany a timeline of your day. She'd have notes of all your dislikes and likes, all your hobbies and fears, all your friends and enemies. The list extends past half the book with information written in extreme detail.

Darkness seemingly seeps into the material of the pages as the photographs and facts near the back pages. She'd have pictures of you with your friends. She'd have you surrounded in hearts while all your friends have ink scribbled across them in ways that represent the fate they'll meet one day.

One friend would have no eyes, while another had their mouth slit to the tip of their cheek bones. One has their stomach ripped open with drawn on organs, and the other simply had a cloud of ink engulfing the entirety of their head.

However, these photos never did her any justice, they were just little flashy tropes she could hug at night- pretending you were there with her instead of a book she cherishes as if it were you.

Winter would often find herself waking up in a sour mood because of this, eventually leading to her doing even more stalking.

How could something go from being so sweet and childish-like, to morbid and sadistic? The answer? Winter. Winter was exactly that.

When you first met a few months back, it was by complete accident. You had body slammed her while playing a game of complex frisbee with your friends in the park.

She remembers so clearly how cute you looked- all dumbfounded with your mouth hung ajar. Your eyebrows were furrowed into a straight line, eyes slightly widened as your face changed to the hue of roses.

You looked perfect.

So flushed for her and her only. Now she wants that again, and she wants that forever. She knew there was no way this was a coincidence. It was destiny to her.

So she made it her duty to follow you, "coincidently" meeting you in random locations till you were close enough to actually just talk like friends, and eventually, you considered her one.

She was invited to your outings, but she only went for you- acting as if she was happy to be company for your other friends as well.

She'd hesitantly put on a laugh and smile for the sake of being close to you, pretending to care when one of your friends get broken up with- or when one of them gets fired from their job

Fortunately, though, it eventually paid off. Eventually, you had invited her to a day out with just the two of you.

And obviously, she couldn't reject the opportunity.

So she found herself here, sitting on a bench in the middle of the exact same park you first met as you simply enjoy the silence with each other.

She stares at you while you stare at the natural surroundings that greet you in a whimsical trance. The birds sing happily, and the distant disturbing hum of a car makes itself present.

It was explosive, how you quickly slurred out words, but Winter understood. "You see that spot?' You ask, raising a finger to an empty patch on the field with a small smile gracing your lips.

"Yeah?"

"It's where we met," you add, looking at Winter as she just grins. You remembered? You cared enough to pay attention? She just assumed you were so caught up in looking at her that you wouldn't have noticed.

"Yeah, I suppose it is," Winter nodded, looking back over to the patch of grass.

"I prefer this so much more," you happily sighed out, relaxing into the bench's structure as your hands delved deep into your hoodie pockets.

"Prefer what so much more?"

"I prefer this, just hanging out with you and not being in a group twenty-four seven"

To this, Winter silently questioned why, thoughts of all sorts rushing through her already congested mind. "Any particular reason why?" You almost crippled into a ball at her words, but she was eager to know, and her heart got the best of her tongue.

"What do you mean? How could I not enjoy hanging out with the kindest person I know. And on top of that, she's smart and so, so attractive," you goofily smile, earning a small push out of both embarrassment and overall shyness.

"Anyone would be lucky to date you," you almost whisper, frowning slightly to yourself. But Winter caught that, now mirroring your saddened expression with a hollowed heart.

"Why would you think that, Y/n?"

"Because you're this amazing person. You're far too extraordinary to just be some fling or a one-time purpose girlfriend - you're you! You're understanding, you're responsible, you're lovable. Do you understand how hard it is to come across someone like you in this modern society we've constructed? It's like a septillion to one!"

"Y/n?" Winter reached out, holding your wrist to help calm you down.

"I love you!" You suddenly blurt out amongst the waffling of your rambles, causing you to slam your mouth shut, now embarrassed and fearful for the outcome.

However, the outcome was far from what you expected when you saw that same stupid grin again- the one she does without any particular reason.

"I- I"

"You love me?" Winter grumbled, eying you half suspiciously, but she couldn't stop the smokey pink from spreading across her now flushed face.

It seems that Winter was the one to trip and stumble this time, figuratively body slamming you this time with that flushed look.

"You don't have to love me back. That was a mistake"

"No, you said it for a reason, and I refuse to let that slide as some mistake. Y/n, I love you too. I just didn't know how to say it before. And we were always just around your friends"

"Then I'll fix that. If you're uncomfortable, then I'll do more dates like these ones with just us"

"Dates? This is a date"

You hum. "No! I mean, I wouldn't object to the idea at all, but I feel like I could do better than this for a first date, can I show you?"

Ningning

Your first encounter wasn't exactly the most ideal, but it was perfect for Ningning. She felt as if you had stolen her heart when you walked out the shop, committing a crime that she honestly didn't care much about- but that never stopped her from playing cops and robbers with you.

She'd happily gather intel on you, noting it all down as she dreamily stared at you through your open window or from another booth in a café you visit on the regular.

She'd be so far in her state of delusional mind that her quickly developed obsession would stem out into a more physical form. She'd have an "evidence" board with pictures of you pinned up, reasons, and witness statements from herself to "help" her case.

This was either just some wacky fantasy, or she genuinely believed this to keep herself away from the truth of her yandere-like behaviour.

Either way, it wasn't exactly the most efficient way of "gathering intel" so she went undercover as the girl you met just the other week and not this fake cop she's made herself to be.

However, one thing leads to another, and months later, she's found laying on your bed with you. Despite the countless encounters you've both had since that "undercover" mission. She has yet to make any further status updates as all she's been able to think about was how attractive you look no matter the circumstance.

Her feelings had gotten the best of her and the whole "Cop Vs. Criminal" plot had fallen through the floor at this point. Over the course of your time spent together, she's come more and more to terms with her ways, understanding what's happening.

But it's not like she can stop it, she's far past that point, so the only thing she can do is continue to just be your friend. She'd have to sit by your side as you enjoy silly little dates that aren't with her, go on stunning vacations around the world with someone who's not her and grow old with some other person who's not her.

Wait.

She still has a fight in her, though, so why was she thinking these things to herself? Why was she suddenly so defeated in the name of love- something she feels so strongly about?

Maybe it was the way you complained about love, like it would never come your way, like Ningning hadn't in front of you this whole time?

Whatever it was, it was diminishing her own perspective- and her ability to push through a tough crowd because she knew you'd never feel the same- even if she had kidnapped you and forced you to at least try and love her.

"Do you love anyone?"

Ningning choked on her pringles, eyes tightly closing as she coughed furiously into her fisted palm.

Does she love anyone?

When your hand made contact with her back, she felt that same shock of ecstatic she normally does as you try your hardest to fix the issue you have created. After some time, her coughing subsides, and the only thing left between you is the haunting word of "love"

"Do I love someone?" Ningning asked, almost unsure if her ears were deceiving her, but your nod told her enough. "I uhm.." she hesitated, scared to reveal anymore than she already had, thinking back to her makeshift evidence board and old high-school files she had stolen.

Now love just seems like too vague of a word… obsessed is a better suited pick.

"I do," her voice was meek out of fear as she searched your eyes, throat scratched and burning from the choke you unwillingly placed upon her.

One eyebrow rose above the other as a grin quickly spread its way across your face, your look almost demanding "Who"

"I'm not telling you that!" she laughed, still eyeing you cautiously in fear of exposing herself. "Do you have a crush, Y/n?"

"I do indeed" your grin only seems to widen as a pit suddenly spawns inside of Ningnings stomach. "I have an idea! If you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine?"

"No way!" You roll your eyes at the girl, shaking your head as your grin slips away. "How about you tell me yours, then I'll tell you mine," Ningning requested, flipping the entirety of your offer to benefit and favour her.

You hummed. And then you spoke.

"Sure, why not?" You shrugged, leaning in closer to the smaller girl, leaving an excruciatingly painful gap between you both.

"Ningning"

"Yeah?"

"I love you"

Ningning tensed up like a cat in fear, her back stiffened, and her eyes locked onto your own as the words bounced around inside of her head. "You love me?" She repeated, sounding unsure before repeating it again and again until the words just felt natural and light upon her tongue.

"Is this real?"

You only laughed, smacking her shoulder lightly "one hundred and one percent." You smiled as Ningning only swooned, giving you a quick peck on the lips.

"I love you too!"

#aespa #karina #giselle #winter #ningning #yandere aespa #reaction #request #anon #kpop #yandere karina #yandere giselle #yandere winter #yandere ningning #requested #au #writing #gxg #sm aespa

181 notes · View notes

enduringmoth · 1 year ago

Note

If it’s not too much to ask and if u weren’t already planning on it, I’d love to hear that secondary post about the consequences of the party’s actions regarding Durge’s reveal 👀👀 the first post rly resonated with me and honestly I’m a little obsessed with the idea of what drastic actions a redeemed!urge might take in the face of rejection,,, it was a rly interesting read nonetheless!

hello there!! i'm happy to talk a little more about it, absolutely! ^^

for those who didn't peep at the tags of my last post, in which i discussed how painful it must be to a seeking-redemption durge to be so heavily rejected by the party, i wrote in the tags:

this might not be exactly what you were looking for but i will do my best!

at the absolute least, i believe the minimum consequences of this interaction involve durge shutting down and withdrawing from most of the group. thinking in particular of my seeking-redemption durge, asha, she carries guilt interwoven with resentment -- she knows she has done wrong and that she deserves to bare the brunt of their rage, but she is also so furious with the idea that these people do not know how much she has done for them since waking up in that pod.

how many urges has she squashed? how many easy kills has she passed up on? does anyone other than gale (her romance interest) even begin to comprehend how painful it was to resist killing isobel, killing gale himself, and yet she did it anyway? because it was the right thing to do?

and yet here, when they all learn the truth -- durge included! they have fucking amnesia! -- it's almost like not a soul left there cares that they've clawed and fought and bled for the entire party at every point.

i think a lot about the dialogue durge has with astarion the morning after realizing they're a bhaalspawn. of all of the companions, he is the only person to realize something is wrong from minute one, and he asks about their sleep and their weights they carry. he then proceeds to empathize with durge, saying they are alike, and that he believes they will succeed.

and yet it seems no one else in the party feels the same, and that has to be agonizingly isolating for durge.

now, onto gortash.

at this point in act 3, the durge has (likely) found the prayer for forgiveness in balthazar's lab in act 2. this scrap of their past lets them know enver gortash was a source of tension in their following of bhaal, enough that they are begging for forgiveness from their father over their admiration and fondness for him.

for us durgetash enjoyers, this is a romantic entanglement. for those who do not see their relationship as romantic, it's still a clear platonic attachment for durge that shook their faith in bhaal's plans.

the people who have traveled with the durge for weeks are (seemingly) regretting that decision, and blaming them for things they cannot recall doing. enver gortash greets them like a friend, offers them a metaphorical and literal hand, reaching out to them when others are pulling away.

at minimum, it creates tension. gortash is "bad" and their party members are "good", right? certainly the durge cannot go on to support gortash in damning the world when that's the "wrong" thing to do -- right?

and yet.

if even those who the durge may have started to believe should be able to understand and accept them, due to having similar-enough struggles in their own past with domineering patrons/gods/masters -- if even they cannot understand, what hope is there for anyone else in the world besides enver gortash offering them that same acceptance?

why save a world that cannot and will not open its arms to you?

thusly, the next step is for the durge to minimum consider what gortash is offering. for me, the durge is most likely to kill orin before gortash anyway, so the first steps here are simple.

depending on how the party continues to respond, the wedge may deepen or back out. depending on how the durge continues to be exposed to enver gortash, they may be more drawn into him or pushed away.

another step up (or down, as it were) would involve who orin kidnaps. we know that she may take gale, halsin or lae'zel, or take the child, yenna.

a particularly bitter durge might let them die. why waste their breath on someone who could not find it in their heart to forgive them?

we proceed apace. i know it's (huge spoilers ahead) canon that gortash is slain by the netherbrain. but if we pretend that that can be avoided one way or another, i believe the second-to-most-nuclear option here is the durge taking over the world with gortash as he originally suggested. in turn, choosing to reject redemption (largely, considering they are still sparing gortash and bhaal wants everyone dead) purely because the party could not see them as redeemable.

(and let's not even get STARTED on how this would involve killing astarion too, the one party member who even got close to seeing her, because the pain drowned out his love too entirely.)

the most nuclear, of course, would be the durge deciding they could not even trust gortash, and instead killing him and embracing bhaal entirely, drowning the entire world in blood as bhaal would have wanted.

now, the bittersweet twist on all of this would be something of a happy ending with a redeemed gortash twist, as so many of us love. perhaps the wedge drives them closer to gortash, but along the way the party is able to prove their willingness to support and accept the durge. but now durge is tangled up in enver, and the only path forward, it seems, is to attempt to free both the chosen of bhaal and the chosen of bane from their masters.

(essentially the consequences of their semi-betrayal being that durge gets in too deep with gortash and they (read: karlach, mostly) have to accept that, but they all live happily ever after because the power of friendship yadda yadda-- my durgetash brain needs a crumb of fluff now and then.)

anyway, this is as disjointed as my sanity but i do hope you got some enjoyment out of it!

#durgetash #dark urge #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #enver gortash #asks #anonymous #moth approves #i just have many thoughts ok???? many #bg3 spoilers 4585656

32 notes · View notes

the-mandawhor1an · 6 months ago

Text

The crimelord

Chapter 2 – Guided by the stars, connected by the force

Masterlist

⇐ Previous chapter | Next chapter ⇒

Pairing: Din Djarin x original female character

Chapter summary: Mando, Maia and the little green gremlin visit one of Mando’s contacts to find other Mandalorians. They get more than they bargained for and once again Maia finds more reasons to prefer the company of the taciturn Mandalorian. Although it almost seems like he’s slowly warming up to his peculiar companion.

Warnings: 18+ content, MDNI! Canon-typical violence, misogyny (not by Mando), one instance of assault? (not by Mando, he’d never), if you squint real hard there’s a twinge of angst

Words: 2k

A/N: The pace is picking up, peeps! I’m leaning a bit into “men are nasty” over here, so be warned about that. – Yes I am posting this way sooner than planned because I feel a spike in my motivation and it's sitting in my Google Docs anyway 🤷‍♀️

She didn’t know how long it took for her to fall asleep, her damp tunic sticking to her body underneath the cape she had used as a blanket to cover her in the co-pilot seat. Not a smart choice as it meant it was uncomfortably cold. Neither did she know how long she slept in that curled up position until the Razor Crest landed at the next destination with a soft but sensible thud. Her green eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the now not so dark environment. Space was a lot darker than a fully lit landing platform.

Mando rose from his seat, eyeing the brunette that slowly unraveled from her blanket. He eyed the lightsaber hilts that clunked against each other. If there was one weapon she shouldn’t carry open like that, it was lightsabers. He nodded in the direction of her belt while she put on the cape. »Leave them here. Can you use blasters?« Gently she unclipped her sabers and put them down on the seat she had just slept on. »Think I’ll need to use it?« She quickly unraveled the messy bun she had her way too long hair in, brushing it out with her fingers and haphazardly putting it up again so it was less messy. »Better safe than sorry.« Following Mando she climbed down the ladder.

Standing in front of his weapon cabinet, he reached in and handed her a blaster. As his glove brushed over her palm, she felt a strange tingle. Either he felt it as well or he just happened to start talking right as awkward silence was to begin. »Stay close,« he requested, earning a confused look from her in return. »The people here aren’t really welcoming towards women. It’s for the best if you leave the talking up to me.«

»Probably heard worse,« Maia shrugged, making Mando eye her for a moment. There it was again, that sting that she by now had recognized as her body telling her in no uncertain terms that he was staring. He continued, »Just… don’t let the comments get to you. In their eyes you’re a slave or a plaything at best.«

She scoffed. And while she had a lot to say about probably being more dangerous than most of some low-level criminals, she bit her tongue. As long as Mando didn’t think of her like that. Wait, why would that matter? »You’re a Mandalorian. In your culture women are treated almost equally, right?« They walked down the ramp, the child in its hovering pram following Mando.

»Not almost. Women are equals. They’re trained to be warriors just the same.« »Sounds inviting…« Maia carefully watched their surroundings, glowing red eyes following their every step. What creatures must lurk in the shadows of such a grim place? And should she fear them or rather the monsters they would talk to soon?

»I’m surprised you know anything about Mandalorians,« his voice guided her attention back to her companion. »I must’ve picked it up while I was traveling. You’re the first Mandalorian I’m talking to,« she half-lied. Raymond had told her all that he’d known about different semi-religious groups. Like the Jedi – and also Mandalorians were, in a way, such a group. »You haven’t met many of us, have you?« The helmet turned, waiting for her head to turn as well. She gave a half-smile and said »Your kind and mine generally don’t get along too well. Guess I’m lucky I ran into one that isn’t like that.«

Mando returned his gaze to where they were headed, nodding towards a door guarded by a male Twi’Lek. Ever so gently, Maia hid behind her companion, avoiding looking at the guard that gave her an unsettling glance. »I'm here to see Gor Koresh.« The Twi’Lek eyed the Helmet, then the girl, and back to the helmet. Only then did he step aside to let them enter. »Enjoy the fights.«

They entered the building and darkness and a nauseating scent engulfed them. Maia was lucky to not have had any meal recently, otherwise she might have had to excuse herself to puke. A little arena stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by rows upon rows of barely filled seats. Two Gamorreans were fighting, their grunts echoing in the large and mostly empty hall. She and the little pram followed Mando, who sat down by his contact. Maia sat down beside Mando, again having him as a shield between her and Koresh. »You know this is no place for a child or a girl. Unless you want to trade her, I’m sure I can find someone to take her off your hands.« So that’s what he warned me about. »No need. I hoped you could help me locate other Mandalorians.« Both watched the fight intently, not looking at one another while talking. Maia didn’t really care for the fight and rather held out her hand to the child, letting it hold onto her pinkie and softly smiling.

»Let’s watch the fight first. I’m sure your escort enjoys what she sees.«

While Mando did not move a muscle, Maia clenched her jaw, trying hard not to audibly scoff. Of course. An escort. She should have been grateful he hadn’t directly insinuated her being Mando’s plaything. »Are you a gambler, Mando?« Koresh leaned towards Mando and therefore also came closer to her. Ever so slightly she leaned into the pram, pretending to be distracted by the child that was cooing at her. »Not when it can be avoided. I can pay you for the information.« »Come on. Let’s make a bet. I'll bet you the information you seek that this Gamorrean's going to die within the next minute and a half.«

Mando tensed and Maia watched as Gor leaned in more, his hand wandering behind his seat. She and the child exchanged a look, her hand slowly reaching for the blaster hidden underneath her cape. »I'm not leaving my fate up to chance,« her companion finally exhaled, just as Koresh grabbed a blaster, exclaimed, »Nor am I,« and shot the Gamorrean. His blaster now pointed at the armored man, he continued, »Thank you for coming to me. Normally, I have to seek out remnants of you Mandalorians in your hidden hives to harvest your precious shiny shells. Beskar's value continues to rise. I've grown quite fond of it. Give it to me now or I will peel it off your corpse.«

»Tell me where I can find other Mandalorians and I will leave without killing you.« Mando’s voice was shockingly neutral for someone that had multiple blasters pointed at them. But maybe he was used to it, being a bounty hunter and all. Koresh scoffed. »Maybe I should take care of the girl first and then kill you.« Mando activated something in his bracer and sighed. »I never liked you.« Both the child and Maia instantly ducked, the pram closing its lid. The whistling birds whirred through the air, taking down two attackers and giving Mando enough time to pull his blaster.

»Protect the child!« he practically barked at Maia, who stayed close to the pram. For now the child was protected, encapsulated in metal. In any other situation her heart would’ve skipped a beat over him trusting her with the child suddenly, but she was distracted by the arms that wrapped around her torso, practically locking her in place and rendering her unable to shoot her blaster. »The green thing!« another shouted, approaching the pram. Mando was busy fighting two men at once, so she had to help the little gremlin. A warm tongue dragged across the side of her face just as the T-visor had turned to her. »Ya’ tasty,« the alien holding her growled, face still close to her cheek. Disgusting. But there was no time to freak out.

It didn’t take long until Maia shot him in the foot, making him let go off her so she could force-throw the alien that was trying to open the pram. He landed rather uncomfortably with his head against a wall, making a very loud cracking noise. »Jedi!« Kriff.

She approached the pram, shot at the attackers that dared to come closer. Mando was out the door as soon as all of them were incapacitated, following Koresh and leaving Maia with the child. The pram opened and the large, dark brown eyes looked up to her. »Are you okay?« She eyed the little thing. It didn’t look injured, barely even disturbed by the situation. Must be nice to feel safe.

She followed Mando outside, who just hung Koresh over a lantern by his foot. »All right, stop, stop! I'll tell you where he is, but you have to promise not to kill me.« Maia couldn’t help it, she rolled her eyes and scoffed again. She would gladly take that task off of his hands. Mando’s helmet rotated just a bit, acknowledging her reaction, but rather talking to Koresh. »I promise you will not die by my hand. Now, where is the Mandalorian you know of?« »Tatooine.« »What? I’ve been to Tatooine multiple times and have never met other Mandalorians.« »I’m telling you the truth!« Koresh wiggled like a worm. »He’s in Mos Pelgo.«

Mando’s shoulders dipped and he sighed as he turned toward Maia and their little green companion, who again held onto her pinkie finger. »Let’s go. We’re flying to Tatooine.« And both followed. Koresh bargained with them for a while, begging Mando to let him go. But that was never part of the deal. Mando turned around once to shoot at the streetlight, leaving Koresh to be devoured by the red-eyed creatures. They heard his screams all the way back to the ship.

Back at the Razor Crest, Maia felt the all-too-familiar sting and turned to see him watching her. »Are you and the child alright?« His glove reached out and touched her chin, turning her face to the side as if she had a wound on the side of her … oh. »I saw what he did. I’m sorry.« »I’m fine.« »I wasn’t expecting them to be this … awful« His hand was drawn back as she again looked through the visor rather than at it, making him tense once again. »It was part of the disguise. Don’t worry. I’m fine.« I’ve heard worse.

She took the little one out of the pram and sat it down on the little bed inside the repurposed medbay, resting her hand on its forehead. Both the child and her closed their eyes for a second. »He’s fine.« »He? Can you two communicate?« »His name is Grogu. And yes, kind of, it’s hard to explain. It’s not like we’re properly talking like you and I.« »Grogu?« The child turned his head to the man, making a questioning noise. Mando watched the child’s reaction. A chuckle echoed underneath the Beskar and Maia swallowed. Such an innocent sound and it made her heart near explode. »I would’ve never guessed that. Grogu.« Again he faced his human companion.

»I’ll fly us to Tatooine. It will take a while, you can rest in the bay.« Maia looked at the bay, to Grogu, and then back to Mando. »But that’s your bed,« she stammered. »It’s fine. I’m taking Grogu with me. Come, Kid.« He lifted the child off of the mattress and walked towards the ladder. »Get some rest.«

She crawled into the bay and laid on her back, staring at the ceiling and trying to collect her thoughts.

The Razor Crest lifted off of the ground and her eyes shut. She really needed some rest. And now that she was by herself in a relatively comfortable position, her thoughts wandered.

So… that’s him. After all this time I found him. Only took what – fifteen years? Does he know? No, he can’t, how could he? But still… something feels weird. His touch. I can feel … him. How his eyes rest on mine, as if I can see them through the visor. Can he feel it?

She rubbed her eyes, staring at the ceiling again, sighing, pained. »Kriff…« She couldn’t stop the tears from running from the corners of her eyes, over her temples and into her hair.

What is so special about you, Mando? And why do I feel like you’re warming up to me? The way you held my chin just now almost felt… gentle. Are you really concerned for me? Or do you still think I hold value to your mission?

She wished she could talk to Raymond right now.

Nothing to translate this time.

I hope you're having a wonderful day 💜

#din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin fanfiction #wolke schreibt #gbtscbtf #original female character #the mandalorian fanfiction

15 notes · View notes

homerforsure · 2 years ago

Text

Okay so for April's writing prompt in the 911 discord server, we had Buck & Chim — Buckley-Han Family on a Spring Day and this spilled out of my brain. It is deeply silly, but I tried!

Operation Easter Bunny

If Buck knew he was going to be reduced to bending forward and trying to ring the doorbell with his nose, he would have told Chimney to pick up his own damn takeout. His arms wrapped around three (three!) enormous, heavy, paper bags, one of which was almost definitely leaking something delicious all over the front of him. With his own bag in his hand, he couldn’t get even a finger free to push the button without risking everything toppling over, so Buck clutched everything tightly to his chest and leaned in, just managing to hit the doorbell with his face.

“Ow,” he said, wrinkling his nose as the pleasant chime rang out inside the house (one of four dozen rotating sounds available on the doorbell that Maddie and Chimney had picked out. Buck had never imagined the sheer number of decisions that would be involved in refinishing a house. Doorbell sounds!) and standing up straight again…

Only to find Chimney already standing in the open door with a smirk on his face.

“Dick.”

“What’s the password?” Chimney asked.

“Let me in before I drop your egg rolls,” Buck groused.

Chimney laughed, but he pushed open the screen door wide enough that Buck could catch it with his shoulder and make his way inside.

“You could have just made two trips.”

“I’m efficient.”

“That’s one word for it,” Chimney said. He reached out and grabbed one of the heavy bags from Buck’s arms and led the way to the kitchen. “Look out for baby debris. I put most of it away, but I think it spawns.”

Picking his way carefully through the house, keeping an eye out for Jee’s toys (and for random shoes, her new favorite toys), Buck followed after Chimney. Groaning dramatically as he finally set his bags on the counter, he said, “What did you even order all of this for? I thought the whole idea was that Maddie and Jee were going to be out all day.” There was nothing on his shirt, thankfully. Whatever moisture he thought he’d felt must have just been condensation from the hot containers inside. He set his other bag, a present for Jee, on the counter with the others and made a mental note to hide it before Maddie got home.

“You’re kidding, right?” Chimney replied, pulling plates and forks out of his cupboards. It took a few false starts before he got them. He and Maddie hadn’t quite settled on a home for the dishes yet. Except for the wine glasses. They’d needed those to be in easy reach throughout the whole process. “I’m not risking my life by ordering from your sister’s favorite Chinese place and not getting enough leftovers for her.”

“Yeah, but, this is like… leftovers for six.”

“Well, I invited a human garbage disposal over for lunch so I thought I’d err on the side of caution,” Chimney said, pressing a plate into Buck’s chest. “Load up, Uncle Buck. We’ve got a big project ahead of us.”

Right, the project or Operation Easter Bunny as Chimney had taken to calling it in the family group chat. With Jee-Yun officially old enough to hunt down easter eggs, Maddie and Chimney were excited to start the first of many traditions in their new house. Buck was pretty sure there was a little more to it than that for Maddie, who was still hesitant about overly formal, overly perfect holiday plans, but who also held tight to every first she still got to have with Jee and Chimney just wanted to make sure that both of them had a perfect day.

“So no pressure,” Buck had said, looking skeptically between the two of them at a dinner in mid-March.

“None at all.”

“Why would there be pressure?”

Still, one thing had led to another and soon they were staring down Easter weekend without a single Peep or chocolate rabbit purchased and with the homemade family brunch Maddie had been talking about rapidly devolving into a store-bought quiche and microwave bacon. She put a few window clings up and tried to get an Easter basket started, but with an inquisitive toddler underfoot, it was proving impossible.

“I’ll take care of it,” Chimney had promised when he found the two of them buried in biodegradable easter grass and Jee’s basket barely hidden from her under a quilt. And on Saturday morning, he’d called Buck.

“I did the basket after they left,” he said as he and Buck piled their plates high and each grabbed a beer from the fridge. “So that’s in the top of our closet and hopefully she doesn’t find her way in there while we’re sleeping.

“Or learn how to use a ladder,” Buck added.

“Hey do not think about teaching her that. The stairs are bad enough.” Jerking his head toward the back door, Chimney said, “I’ve got the rest of the stuff out here. It was the only place I could think to hide it.”

Buck was about to ask if Chimney was living with a toddler or a secret agent, but the question was quickly overwhelmed by a dozen others when they stepped out onto the patio. “Whoa,” was all he could manage to say.

An uncountable number of easter eggs spilled out of plastic bags on and around the new picnic table that Buck and Eddie had just helped Chimney move in the previous weekend. Giant ones, mini ones, sparkling ones, and neon ones. There were other bags too, filled with vanilla wafers and veggie straws and other baby-safe snacks that Buck could only assume they were going to use to fill the eggs.

“Did Maddie really want us to fill all of these?”

“What do you mean? She bought all of them. Of course she wants us to fill them. I was thinking Divide and Conquer,” Chimney said, finding a mostly empty spot to set his plate down in. “You can fill them and I’ll hide them around the yard.”

“Uh, are you sure the yard is big enough?”

As if thinking about it for the first time, Chimney took in the pile of eggs and the spring green of the backyard and tilted his head. “Maybe we’ll put some in the front too. I’ll text Maddie and tell her to pull Jee’s hat over her eyes before she brings her in from the car.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Pipe down and get to work, Buckley. We don’t have much time.”

The order had a hint of Interim Captain Han about it so Buck didn’t bother to argue. He grabbed a bag of eggs so he had a place to put his own plate and then got to work.

Two hours later, the patio was more of a mess than they started and Buck’s fingers were nicked from getting caught in a dozen slightly deformed plastic eggs that didn’t want to stay closed. The yard was more egg than lawn and Chimney still had two buckets of filled eggs that had to go somewhere.

“You think I can hang some from the trees?” he asked, staring at the pile and the four eggs he was already holding in his hands with dismay. “She can see them up there, right?”

“Not unless you want me to teach her how to use a ladder.”

“This is too many eggs. What was Maddie thinking?”

“Don’t ask me. You’re the one living with her,” Buck replied, around a mouthful of wafer.

The sound of a car pulling in the driveway brought an expression of panic to Chimney’s face and he started trying to shove the eggs into his pockets and down his shirt. “No! No, no, no. She wasn’t supposed to be back until six!”

“It’s six-fifteen.”

“Hide these!” Chimney shouted, picking up the buckets and shoving them at Buck. Eggs shook free as he did, falling to the cement patio and splitting open, scattering cookies and candy everywhere.

“Hide them where?” Buck asked. “You used up all the lawn!”

“Anywhere!”

“We’re home!” Maddie’s cheerful voice called from inside the house. “Someone saw Uncle Buck’s truck in the street and can’t wait to say hi!”

“Uh, Uncle Buck went home!” Chimney called back as Buck held up his hands and the buckets in a “come on” gesture. “He had to walk because he got very very drunk, but he’ll be back tomorrow. So there’s no reason to come out to the yard!”

“Howie?”

“I’m not here either!” Chimney shouted. “Daddy’s on vacation. No toddlers allowed. No. Stop! Don’t look!”

He flung his arms and legs out wide like a starfish and planted himself in front of the back door, eggs falling out of his clothes as he did.

“You went on vacation without me?” Maddie asked, appearing in the doorway without a baby on her hip.

Chimney deflated, dropping his arms, “Where’s Jee-Yun?”

“Trying on your slippers in the living room. What’s happening out here?”

“I think I’m getting easter egg elbow,” Buck answered. “Is that a thing?”

“It’s not a thing,” Chimney said.

“Are those-” Maddie frowned, opening the door to join them on the patio and get a better look at the yard. “Did you hide all of those eggs?”

With a sad sigh, Chimney said, “No. Not even close. Maddie, I know you wanted to make this special, but there’s just no way we can hide them all. We’d have to spread them out all over the whole neighborhood and you know I’d do that, but I just don’t think Jee’s got the attention span to-” He stopped, noticing the way that Maddie bit her lip to keep a smile from escaping and then looked again at the mess he and Buck had made of the yard.

“You didn’t actually want us to fill all of them, did you?”

Maddie shook her head and said, “They were on sale. I thought we could use some next year and some of them are always broken and, I don’t know. They were really cute. I didn’t want to choose.”

Coming in closer so she could take Chimney’s face in her hands and plant a kiss on his lips, Maddie added, “But I love how much you love our daughter. We are both so unbelievably lucky to have you.”

“I’m lucky to have you too.”

“Okay, but what do we do with,” Buck lifted the buckets again. “All this? Because I don’t really think they’ll keep until next Easter.”

With a shrug, Maddie said, “Take them to work? I’m supposed to bring something for the dispatch pot luck anyway.”

“I’m sure Cap will be thrilled if I hide some of these on the engine.”

“Hey, it could come in handy,” Buck said, cracking open a yellow one and eating another cookie, somehow without dropping either of the buckets. “Having a stash like this on back to back calls. It’s better than protein bars.”

The smile Chimney gave him meant nothing good for Buck as he pulled the few remaining eggs out of his pockets and dropped them in the buckets that Buck was holding and said, “That’s a great idea. Why don’t you gather all these up so we can take them in? Just leave like one or two dozen for Jee to find in the morning.”

“Hey wait-”

“Did you get extra Chinese food for me?” Maddie asked.

“Please, have I ever let you down before?” Chimney replied.

“Guys!”

The screen door slammed shut over the rest of Buck’s protests and he sighed as another egg rolled off into the grass.

“They are on their own for Halloween,” he huffed to himself, grabbing another egg to munch on.

#911 fic #9-1-1 discord: writing challenge #allison writes

54 notes · View notes

elliespuns · 7 months ago

Note

I think by posting the mean anon you enabled hate and bulling towards Bella, but you also owned up to it and apologized. At which point it should be over. The fact that people just won`t let it go is just unkind. We all make mistakes and the idea that you can never be off the hook is just nuts to me. Its like we can never learn from it and do better. And yes we can, you`re a good example of that.

I hope you`ll have a better day tomorrow.

And to all the holier than thou peeps: Have you really never messed up? Done something careless or stupid and felt bad after? How were you treated after? And how would you like to be treated? With a bit of understanding and kindness? Or with nuclear missiles?

Another issue (except for the one where I was being an ass) was that people were angry that I didn't delete the post right away. The problem is that I share my posts in the evening of my time, and then I go to bed and wake up for work. Which means at least 17 hours without checking my blog and knowing what's happening over here when I am working. That was the reason why the post was hanging there for almost a day.

I did delete it immediately after I opened my notifications and saw the madness that I caused. Some other people reblogged the post because they were angry and needed to vent their thoughts, so it's probably still out there, though. Hopefully, no one will reblog it again, and the people who did reblog it will delete it too, making it all disappear. I hope it won't get shared again. I haven't been thinking of anything else for the last day, and I feel pretty bad about it still being out there, honestly. Because I really did mean no harm.

For a while, I was thinking not posting about the show anymore. Because what I fear is that the people I pissed off won't let it be and will continue reblogging my stuff with ugly comments, keeping the drama alive. Yet I want to participate in the discussions and hype because there are still things I love about the show. I still enjoy talking about it and sharing opinions, insights, and theories. Also, opinions can change over time. I wish people understood that me saying one thing NOW doesn't mean I'm going to be saying the same thing LATER be there anything that changes my mind in the meantime.

Thank you for being so kind. Luckily, many of you who have been following me for almost the whole time I have had this blog know that I never trash-talked Bella or any other actor (or even a fictional character), and you stayed considerate even after I did something out of character. Kudos to all of you.

I know that nothing we do is without consequences, so I deserved what I got, but honestly, I wish to not talk about it any more on this blog. If you have anything to say about this (be in nice or bad), you can message me or send an ask, but I won't be posting those concerning this mess anymore.

Anyway, I'm babbling now. Thanks for all your love, kids. Although I don't deserve it now, I still truly feel bad.

#father forgive me for i have sinned #elliespuns answers #public apology

10 notes · View notes

queen0fm0nsterz · 1 year ago

Note

Mirror monster thoughts wha t do you have

Crawls on the cielinh so I can grab your head and shake out all the thought

MASTERPOST

Randy you know better than to give me such freedom... I'm gonna be talking for a whole longass post now because I do have so many thoughts about the Mirror Monster.

The thing about the comic characters in this franchise is that they stick with you once you find out they exist. This is because they are so unique when compared to the rest that it's almost hard to believe they could even co-exist. Less so the Ferryman, with Mirror Monster being an in-between to his "normalcy" and North Wind's complete shattering of the unspoken rules that usually build a LN antagonist. Congrats to your babygirl for being a wildcard I suppose

The Mirror Man Lore Dump

As discussed previously, the canonicity of Mirror Man is up to debate: however, because of his presence as a jack-in-the-box in VLN, we'll assume he still exists (or has existed) in the universe.

Considering all other rooms have some semblance of imagery leading back to the character residing in them, this one probably follows the same principle.

Taking into account what Mirror Man does, it becomes clear that the paper planes are meant to rappresent his victims. Frail and easy to maneuver, they easily fall into his trap. What's interesting to note is the fact that those who end up falling over on the other side are not crumpled or ruined: they seem to be stored somewhere. Intact, but still trapped on the other side.

It's also important to note that the net doesn't necessarely move or do anything to attract its preys: it stands still, awaiting, knowing that someone will eventually come and get stuck. There are a few exceptions, such as the planes that ended up flying in other directions, and even a piece of paper who, in spite of being stranded away from its place, is not folded as a paper plane. This may rappresent those people who come in contact with the Mirror Monster but have no interest in what he has to offer - such as the Humpback Girl.

(Funnily enough, this is not the first time people are rappresented as pieces of paper in the jack-in-the-boxes rooms. There would be another very enlightening room that follows the same principle --)

(-- But I digress.)

With a Nome standing on the pile of paper, I believe it may not be a stretch to assume that Mirror Man, like many others, would primarily target children. They're easy prey for a reason. However, it's clear that he may not necessarely have limitations considering... the Lady ordeal... though she still doesn't seem to fit the (hypothetic) criteria to be considered part of his hunting grounds.

Going back to the room before moving onward: after combining my braincells to the ones of the peeps in the Box server, we figured out that the piece of machinery in the room could be an old boat engine.

They do share some similarities, but we haven't been able to figure it out for certain... so we'll leave it at that.

However I will say that Mirror Man's fit here greatly resembles the one the man in this painting is wearing, along with the pose being the exact same.

This always struck me as odd because his design in the comic has a completely different colour palette, as you can see on the picture on the right, so I'm wondering if the comics got his coloring wrong somehow... or if they simply changed it overtime.

Here's two pictures for comparison.

Moving on to his comic appearences, Mirror Man is implied to be regarded as some sort of an urban legend in the Humback Girl's hometown -- unlike the previous issue's antagonist, the North Wind, who is instead said to be more of a malevolent spirit. You could say the Mirror Man is... a boogie man of sorts. It is also worth mentioning that none of the children in the Humpback's girl group seem to know who the Mirror Man is before entering the building - only that the place itself is dangerous.

(Thinking about it now, this creates a very interesting parallel with Thin Man as he also operates in a near identical way. Mh. Moving on.)

As mentioned earlier, the Mirror Man waits for his prey to wander in. He doesn't make his presence known immediately, choosing to wait until his victims are instead relaxed and content with their new appearence. He's able to give them what they want and does so only to catch them by surprise afterwards. Cruel.

His powers are tied to the ability of changing people's outward appearences - be it in a way they like or dislike. This happens respectively to the friends of the Humpback Girl, and to the girl herself after she looks into the shattered mirror.

A plausible theory regarding his origin is that he was summoned by the arrival of Humpback Girl, and while I think that is a possibility, I don,'t necessarely think that's the case. I believe that, because her only wish was to leave - something that has nothing to do with what's in the Mirror Man's power capabilities - she was able to see him coming before the others. You can see him lurk behind her shoulder, preparing to attack -- but then he moves quickly behind a different mirror.

I do think her shift in appearence was his direct doing, because it only happens after she looks at the shards of the mirror.

This is what has me believe that Mirror Man did not perish here and simply moved (forcibly?) to another mirror, with Humpback's girl transformation being his petty farewell.

(Diverting from the original point a second, I find it especially cruel how the entire Humpback Girl's situation was nearly a set up if you think about the story's progression. She starts off as being ridiculed and called a coward by her peers, she proves her bravery by fighting to save them only to have this backfire horribly as the others abandon her there. It's terribly upsetting.)

Canonical Mirror Man lore unfortunately ends here... and it genuinely saddens me that such an interesting concept for a character was never brought back again for something. He, the Ferryman and the North Wind were truly done a disservice. I want them back.

Now, when it comes to hypothesis... you know I am a huge enjoyer of the Mirror Man/Lady enemyship. I have many thoughts on the two of them, but because it's something purely hypothetical backed up by nearly nothing, I will not be expanding on it as of now.

Thank you a lot for the ask :]

#little nightmares #little nightmares analysis #little nightmares theory #the mirror man #mirror man #ln theory #ln meta #little nightmares the mirror man #humpback girl #ln humpback girl #the lady #ln the lady #{SHES KINDA THERE IN SPIRIT BUT NOT LITERALLY #i finally have some free time to post analysis mein gott i missed this #thank u sm for asking randy i am now in your walls}

48 notes · View notes

junkdayz · 3 months ago

Text

PILLOW TALK

reader x Femboy Dosie (Purple Kiss)

College!AU, Roomates!AU, some Smut!

(lowkey gave up on this and idk why)

Tags: male reader, gay sex, genderbent, femboy, male on male, breeding kink, CMNF, (lots of) cock stroking, creampie, passionate sex, ass sniffing, quickie, (a little) rimjob, switching

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was a placid Friday evening. My roommate dosie and I were spending it the way we always did: sitting on our couch with our feet on the coffee table. I was watching TV, while dosie was scrolling on his phone while toying with short black hair.

His girly hairstyle was the first, but definitely not the last, of his many feminine features. When I moved in with him, he instantly noticed I was surprised by the fact he looked more like… well, a girl, than a boy. He was a “sissy”, he’d explained, the bovine equivalent of a femboy.

I also use the cowboy emoji a lot, but that’s unrelated , he’d said.

“Wanna hang out tonight?” he asked.

I opened my mouth to answer, but before any sound could escape it, my phone buzzed against the glass surface of the coffee table. Beep-beep-boop! It chimed. dosie recognized the custom sound for chaein, the girl I’d been dating for the past two months.

“You’re still seeing her?!” He asked, bewildered.

“Of course, why do you sound so surprised?”

“She checks on you once every two weeks. Don’t you think that’s… suspicious?”

“She just wants to take it easy, man. When we started dating she had just broken up with her long time boyfriend.”

Beep-beep boop! I grabbed the phone. chaein wanted us to dine at a really fancy restaurant tonight, and she wanted to do it with a beautiful red dress she’d bought that day. It looks beautiful, doesn’t it? I better it’d look even better on my floor…

“Pfft.” dosie scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“It isn’t nice to peep at other people’s screens. But since you have, I suppose you can guess I’m gonna need the apartment tonight.”

“Yeah, sure. You’re gonna need it alright, just like every other time you spent a fortune to take her out and she refused to come in.”

“I’m not denying she’s a high-maintenance girl, but she’s worth it. Have you seen her?”

“Oh, I have.” He said through his teeth. “I’ll just go to the club with my friends, you have fun here.”

The disapproval on dosie’s face turned to pity when he came back to find me lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling with my hands joined at my chest. Catatonic, almost.

“I take it she found an excuse not to come in, uh?” He said, sitting by my side. “She’s just leading you on, sweetie.”

“No. She just… didn’t feel like it was right, yet. I just have to try harder.”

“Man, I may be a cow, but you’re the one getting milked here.” He sighs. “No matter how shittily she treats you or how many times I warn you, you’ll never give up on her, right?”

“Nope.”

“Let it be known I did not want to do this, but my hand was forced.”

He offered me his phone and I got up to a sitting position to take it. The screen was so bright it took me a second to focus those splotches of color into a picture, but I wished I hadn’t done it. Because it was a picture of chaein, with her ex-boyfriend, having a coffee at the place where dosie worked as a waiter. It was followed by a second picture of them extending over the table to kiss.

“I think I’m going to cry.” I said, tears already streaming down my cheeks. “I’m a moron, am I not?”

“Oh, sweetie,” dosie said, caressing my back and patting my thigh. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but… you had to know. You are such a great dude, I know you deserve a woman who will give you all you deserve and more.”

“Thanks… really. Thank you.”

“You deserve a woman who’ll love you. Or… you know… maybe not a woman.”

“What do you mean?”

He scooted closer to me, so close I could feel the air exhaling from his snout. “Maybe… a guy could be good for you? A femboy, even?”

I looked into his eyes, which were as big and pleading as a puppy’s trying to get picked out of the litter.

“I like you, more than chaein ever could. I’ve liked you for a long time, and I know I could treat you the way you deserve. I know you could treat me the way I deserve, as well, and I’d never take advantage of you..”

I can barely parse the words coming out of his mouth. First, chaein cheated on me, now my best friend is trying to date me. I feel like a boxer that took one too many blows to the head.

“dosie, I like you too.” I say, and he lights up. I wince, knowing what’s next. “But just as a friend.”

“But–but–” he staggers as I take his hand off my chest and hold it gently. “No buts. It’s fine. It’s cool. I’m sorry for pushing it on you right now. It was pretty scummy of me, that’s true….”

“Woah! Calm down.” Now he was the one crying. I took a tissue out of the box on the table to wipe away his ruined makeup. “You’re not garbage, and I’m very flattered you like me that way. It’s just that I’m not gay, you know?”

“I–I know. It’s just that I had to shoot my shot. You understand, right?”

“I do. Wanna watch trashy 2AM reality tv and eat ice cream to feel better?”

He nodded.

And so we spent the rest of our night cuddled up together on the couch while we both could still feel the grooves of our tears on our cheeks. He used my chest as a pillow, which made me think about how we were always touching and holding each other, almost as if we’d already been a couple the whole time. It certainly wasn’t a level of intimacy I could have mustered for anyone except him. He was very special to me, and I did like him a lot.

But liking him was only one part of the puzzle, right? If we started dating, I’d have to do much more than just hang out with him, or hold his hands, or even kiss him. I would have to love him the way he wanted and deserved to be loved, and I didn’t know if I was capable of that.

dosie had fallen asleep on me and was drooling all over my shirt. I chuckled quietly, not wanting to wake him up, and gently lowered his hand on the armrest so he could use it as a pillow. But as I was about to step away, he tugged at my pants.

“I’m here, if you change your mind. I’ll always be.”

And with that, he drifted back to sleep.

The following days, I couldn’t help but gravitate to him more and more. I always found myself stealing glances at him and wanting to be as close to him as possible. I laughed and smiled at everything he said even when it wasn’t funny at all. Most importantly of all, I wanted to touch him. My fingers itched to run through his hair and trace circles on his skin. I wanted to hold him tight to myself and feel his head on my chest just like that night. I wanted him , and I wanted his body, that fat plump ass even.

And so, the next time we were together watching TV, I asked:

“Would you like a foot massage?”

He looked surprised, but quickly went “Why not?” And hoisted his feet on my lap.

I caressed and worked the skin, even reaching under the stirrups of his white socks.

“Oh, I needed that. Work sucked today.” He said, then cooed in appreciation of my massage skills.

“Anything in particular that bummed you out?”

“I’m gonna be extremely petty and tell you… there’s this girl who always orders the biggest, sugariest frappé we have. Every day. And she’s so thin! It’s so unfair, dude.I have to work so hard to look the way I do while Miss Sweet Tooth gets to have her frappé and eat it too.”

“I’m sure she didn’t look even half as good as you do.”

“Oh.” He raised one eyebrow. “And how are you so sure?”

“Because you’re vastly prettier than ninety-nine percent of women in circulation. Much prettier than the bitch I used to date, that’s for sure”

“You’re damn right! But I never thought I’d ever hear you say it.”

“I can be a bit slow sometimes. But I always get there.”

“Oh, do you, now? Words are cheap, mister. Actions are more important.” Having said that, he picked the remote off the coffee table and let it fall theatrically out of his hand.It rolled under the table. “Oops, I’m so clumsy”

He kneeled down and went on all fours to pick it back up, giving me a perfect view of his bubble-shaped ass. His slutty jeans shorts wrapped around it with vacuum tightness, and only the bottom curve of his cheeks peeked from under the blue fabric. Blood rushed to my crotch and my pants tented as my cock grew to full mast. Without even thinking twice, I raised my hand and slapped his ass as hard as I could, making his entire body jolt.

He crawled out from under the table with the corner of his black lips raised in a sly smile. “That wasn’t very straight of you.”

“Maybe I don’t feel very straight.”

I spread my legs to show him how my hard cock was tenting my pants. His eyes went wide seeing my raging erection, and he slid over to me so he could caress my inner thigh and whisper into my ear.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yeah.”

“Say it with more confidence, buddy. If you flip flop and break my heart after this, let’s say it won’t be the only thing that’s broken after I’m done with you.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I want to–”

My phone chimed. Beep-beep-boop . Beep-beep-boop. Beep-beep-boop .

I picked it up to silence it, but in doing so the notifications popped up on the screen anyway.

It was just a moment of weakness. I was actually telling him to never see me again. I tried to explain it to your sissy cow bitch. He said I don’t love you as much as he did. You understand what he’s doing, right? He’s pushing us apart because he’s envious of me. Of us.

Please forgive me.

“That’s not true.” dosie said, looking at me with pleading puppy eyes and lowered ears. “I would never sabotage you. Please don’t listen to her. Please–”

“dosie, I know. Don’t worry.”

I dropped my phone on the rug and myself onto my beautiful roommate. My face met his as we had our very first kiss. I pulled him by the waist so that his tongue could have free rein in my mouth. He explored it eagerly, as if he wanted to taste every corner of it. We only unlocked when we couldn’t breathe anymore, a single bridge of saliva connecting my lips to his snout.

“I love you.” I said.

“I love you too.”

“You are beautiful to me… and to everybody else, hell. I just couldn’t see it before. Now, will you turn around for me?”

He did so without a word, putting his elbows on the armrest, chest down, ass up. His breathing was short and ragged, and his whole body shook ever so slightly, eagerly awaiting my next move. My heartbeat drummed in my ears. This was the moment of truth. I’d thrown myself into it headfirst, and if I ended up hurting him, I would never be able to forgive myself.

I grabbed his shorts and pulled them down, revealing the cutest, pinkest asshole I’d ever seen and a fat plump round bubble booty. Under it, a plump, smooth taint, from which hung his ballsack. His testicles were huge and filled it perfectly, shaping it into a tasty-looking peach that made my mouth water. His cock sprouted from it, a half-hardened and still glowing slab of shining dark meat. It surprised me to find out that dosie was more hung than me. It surprised me even more that it just made my cock even harder, so hard my head spun. I didn’t simply want him, I needed him. I cursed myself for not realizing it earlier.

“I’m sorry, that part of me isn’t very cute.” dosie apologized. I spent so much time basking in the beauty of his cock he must have thought I was hesitating. “Never mind what I said before, it’s okay if you wanna stop now. Just—“

Not wanting to hear him be self-conscious even for one more second, I dived forwards and wrapped my lips around his testicles. They easily slipped through my eager lips and inside my hungry mouth.

“Oh my god!” dosie bellowed, and then began groaning and moaning as I sucked his balls and milked his fat, throbbing bull-cock. I only took pauses from painting his cumtanks with my spit to tongue his asshole open.

“Stop, please, stop! I’m gonna…”

His sack tightened and his cock quaked as piping hot cum sped through his shaft and shot all over our couch. I’d stopped pumping him, but dosie needed more stimulation to truly enjoy his orgasm, and so he rutted with my hand-hole, making me spurt precum in my boxers as I observed, as if hypnotized, his balls slapping against my fist each time he thrusted in.

Having fully emptied himself, dosie breathed heavily to replace all the air he’d expelled with his pleasured moaning. His ass was still high up in the air, spread wide, and his asshole winked at me, beckoning me further, murmuring that it was my turn to feel good.

I was so excited I fumbled my belt buckle over and over, and it took all my concentration to undo it and let my trousers ball up to my knees. My cock had never been harder. Waves of excitement ran down my taint and up my spine. Every fiber of my body burned with the desire to make dosie mine. And so I mounted him.

“Please make me into your slut.” dosie begged while my cock prodded his entrance.

"Even better. I’ll make you my boyfriend." I say.

The tension in the air was palpable, a heady mix of desire and something more tender, something that made my chest ache with an unfamiliar longing. I could see it in Dosie’s eyes too—that same mixture of want and uncertainty, as if we were both standing on the precipice of something that could change everything.

When Dosie turned around, offering himself so openly, I felt a rush of emotions—desire, yes, but also a deep, aching need to protect, to cherish, to hold this moment in my heart forever. I stepped closer, my hands trembling slightly as they hovered over Dosie’s exposed skin. There was a part of me that wanted to take, to lose myself in the pleasure that I knew awaited us, but there was also a part of me that wanted to savor this, to make sure that every touch, every movement was filled with the care and affection that I felt but couldn’t quite put into words.

My hands finally made contact with Dosie’s skin, my touch gentle at first, almost hesitant, as if I was afraid that this moment might shatter if I wasn’t careful. But as I felt Dosie shiver under my touch, heard the soft intake of breath, something inside me shifted. I wanted to make this good for Dosie, to show him just how much this meant to me.

I leaned in, pressing my chest against Dosie’s back, my lips brushing against the nape of his neck as I whispered, “You’re incredible, you know that? I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you right now.”

I guided my cock between Dosie’s ass cheeks, the thick, slick shaft sliding easily into the tight, inviting space. I let out a low groan as the tip of my cock brushed against Dosie’s entrance, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through my body. It was a different kind of intimacy, one that spoke of trust and desire, and I couldn’t get enough of it. My grip on Dosie’s waist tightened as I increased the pressure, grinding my cock between those soft, firm cheeks. The slickness from the water and the previous encounters made every movement smooth and fluid, a rhythm that built in intensity with every passing second. I pressed my lips to Dosie’s ear, my voice low and rough. “You feel so good, Dosie… I can’t get enough of you.”

Yet there was a vulnerability in my words that surprised even me, a raw honesty that I hadn’t intended to let slip, but now that it was out in the open, I didn’t want to take it back. I wanted Dosie to know just how deeply I was feeling this, how much this moment meant to me.

As my hands traveled down Dosie’s sides, feeling the way his muscles tensed and relaxed under my touch, I felt a surge of something close to tenderness. I wanted to make sure that every moment, every touch, was filled with the depth of my feelings. This wasn’t just about desire—this was about connection, about the unspoken bond that had been building between us for so long.

I positioned myself behind Dosie, my hands gripping his hips with a firm yet gentle hold. I could feel the tension in my own body, the overwhelming urge to lose myself in the heat and pleasure that awaited, but I forced myself to go slow, to make this as good for Dosie as I could.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” I whispered, my voice low and rough with emotion. “I want this to be perfect for you.”

My breath came out in ragged gasps as I felt Dosie press back against me, the heat of the moment pushing us both into a frenzy. The tension that had been simmering between us finally erupted, and my control slipped as I gripped Dosie’s hips harder, pulling him closer, aligning our bodies perfectly.

With a deep breath, I pushed forward, sliding my massive cock into Dosie’s tightness, the sensation almost overwhelming as I felt his body clench around me. The slick warmth of the shower only heightened the intensity, and I couldn’t hold back a groan as I began to move.

“Fuck,” I breathed out, the word almost lost in the steamy air around us. The sound of our bodies coming together echoed in the small space, a rhythmic, wet 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙋 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙋 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙋 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙋 as I thrust into Dosie with increasing fervor. The noise was lewd, almost obscene, but it only drove me further, the primal need to claim, to possess, overtaking me.

Each thrust was accompanied by the slap of skin against skin, a sharp, 𝙎𝙈𝘼𝘾𝙆 as my hips met Dosie’s ass, his bubble butt bouncing back with every powerful movement. The wet, rhythmic sounds filled the stall, merging with the groans, moans, and the steady stream of water cascading down our bodies. My body was on fire, every nerve ending alive with pleasure as I continued to drive into Dosie. My hands slid down to his waist, gripping him with bruising force as I quickened my pace, the rhythm of my thrusts growing more frantic. 𝙋𝙇𝘼�� 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙋 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙋—the sound was relentless, a testament to the urgency that neither of us could deny.

I could feel Dosie’s body trembling, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed in time with each thrust. My own breath was coming out in sharp, uneven bursts, my heart hammering in my chest as I lost myself in the feeling of Dosie wrapped around me.

With every plunge, I could hear the slick, wet noises of our bodies sliding against each other, the 𝙎𝙇𝘼𝙋 𝙎𝙇𝘼𝙋 𝙎𝙇𝘼𝙋 of my balls against Dosie’s cheeks as I drove deeper. My foot found purchase on the cold tile of the shower wall, giving me extra leverage to drive into Dosie with even more intensity. My hips snapped forward in a rapid, demanding rhythm, each thrust pushing Dosie forward against the shower wall with a muffled grunt.

I slowed my pace, my breathing evening out as I focused on the sensation of sliding in and out of Dosie’s warmth. I gripped his hips, my thumbs massaging the firm flesh as I thrust steadily, each movement deliberate and deep. As I continued, my pace quickened once more. My breath caught in my throat as I picked up speed, the water from the showerhead creating a misty veil around us. My balls slapped against Dosie’s ass with a wet slapping sound, his fat cheeks jiggling with each thrust. “FUUUUUuuuuuck!!~” I groaned, my voice echoing in the shower. My hips snapped forward with renewed vigor, driving my thick cock deep into Dosie. “Take my fucking dick, bro~”

Dosie couldn’t help but shiver, my every move felt so tempting yet so affectionate. With every touch, every soft brush of my lips against his ear, Dosie felt loved, cherished, even worshiped. Whenever I praised him, he felt his hole twitching uncontrollably. There was something so sexy about the way I was pressing our bodies together, teasing his hole with the tip of my slicked cock in the best possible way. It hadn’t even started yet and Dosie was already weak on his knees, my cock felt so close yet so far. It was intoxicating, he felt like he needed me more than ever now.

As if I could hear his thoughts, I increased the pressure against his hole. It was finally it, Dosie’s nails dug into the wall with anticipation as he felt my cock slowly entering his most sensitive spot. His flesh parted while I made my way into the Korean bimbo, until my cock, still slick with saliva, was finally fully inside. Dosie’s breath caught in his throat, and he let out a desperate moan: he felt so full. Actually, he hadn’t had anything this big for such a long time that he needed to adjust to the size. But what truly mattered was that we were finally forming one, we were more intimate than ever.

This wasn’t only about some sort of primal instinct; it was about a connection. Something so strong that Dosie couldn’t quite put words on it. But whenever I caressed his waist, or kissed the back of his neck, or even praised him, he was shivering uncontrollably. This moment meant so much more than a hookup session to Dosie, and he was glad that I felt the same. Dosie started to relax under my gentle touch, nothing mattered anymore except the overwhelming urge to get fucked by me as soon as possible.

“It’s perfect,” Dosie whispered with a pleading tone. “Please, fuck me more. I want you so bad.”

To show him how much I actually wanted this, Dosie pressed his back against my chest. Forming one was not an option anymore; our bodies aligned in the most perfect way as if we had always been made to work together. I felt Dosie’s breath becoming shaky, and the grip on his waist growing stronger: it was finally about to begin.

The next second, my massive cock was rearranging his guts. The shower stall was invaded with a bunch of obscene sounds that made Dosie’s head spin: our moans, our wet skin coming together at each and every thrust, my balls slapping against his juicy bubble butt, my chest laid flush with his back. My lips were just short of his ear. I hoped its larger size would make it even easier for him to hear me moan straight into his brain as I chanted his name over and over and over. I pounded him hard and rhythmically until the muscles of my thighs hurt, and then I kept going, because I would not let my body stop me from showing my utter and total dedication to him. I know it couldn’t have been that long, but it felt as if I’d been breeding him for hours by the time I was truly too spent to keep going. My cock was aching to burst.

“Please cum inside,” he begged, “please never let me go.”

How could I say no to him? How could I not hilt myself down and explode against his prostate? I desperately poured my love for him inside of his body. Even though my brain knew it was impossible, my heart wanted to impregnate him. I inundated him with my love, and then we collapsed, exhausted. Our bodies tangled together on the couch, and we exchanged our I love you ’s once more.

But the day was still young. As soon as we recovered our forces, we had sex again, over and over. I tasted his dick and he tasted mine. We jerked each other off as we kissed deeply. I slammed his ass over the coffee table and had him ride me like the sissy he was.

The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, and yet, amid the raw, primal passion, there was something profoundly tender in the way I held Dosie. Every thrust, every movement was infused with a deeper, almost reverent connection. I could feel it in the way my hands gripped his hips, in the way my breath hitched when I felt him clench around me.

As I continued to move, my pace became more deliberate, more thoughtful. The sheer pleasure of the moment was undeniable, but so was the profound sense of closeness that we shared. It wasn’t just about physical gratification; it was about something much more intimate, something that transcended words.

The warmth of the water cascading down our bodies created a veil of steam around us, a misty barrier that seemed to amplify the intimacy of the moment. My hands slid over Dosie’s skin, tracing the contours of his body with a reverent touch. Every caress, every stroke was a silent declaration of how much I cared for him, how much I wanted this to be more than just a fleeting encounter.

My lips brushed against the back of Dosie’s neck, leaving soft, lingering kisses that spoke of my deep affection. I could feel the tremors that ran through his body, the way he shivered with every touch, every kiss. It was as if my touch was awakening something deep within him, something that had been waiting to be touched, to be cherished.

I leaned in closer, my breath hot against his ear as I whispered, “You’re incredible, Dosie. You make me feel things I didn’t know I was capable of. I want you to know that this moment, this connection—it means everything to me.”

As my cock slid in and out of him, each movement was met with a mixture of passion and tenderness. I could feel the way Dosie’s body responded to me, the way he arched his back and pressed his ass against me, as if trying to draw me deeper. It was a dance of desire and devotion, a rhythm that was both urgent and patient.

My hands traveled up to his chest, feeling the way his heart pounded beneath my fingertips. I could sense the vulnerability in his body, the way he gave himself to me so completely, and it only deepened the connection between us. Every gasp, every moan was a testament to the trust we had built, to the bond that had grown between us.

The sounds of our bodies coming together, the wet, rhythmic slaps and the gasps of pleasure, were a soundtrack to our intimacy. But beyond the physical sensations, there was an emotional undercurrent that made this moment truly special. It was the way we communicated without words, the way our bodies spoke to each other in a language that was both primal and deeply emotional.

I could feel Dosie’s body trembling, his breaths coming in short, uneven bursts. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, and yet, there was a sense of peace in the way we moved together. It was as if we were creating something beautiful, something that transcended the physical act and became a celebration of our connection.

Every thrust, every movement was a testament to how much I cared for him. I wanted this to be perfect for him, to show him just how much he meant to me. As I held him, my grip gentle but firm, I could feel the way his body relaxed under my touch, the way he let go of any remaining tension and allowed himself to be completely present in this moment.

The intimacy we shared was more than just physical—it was a profound connection that spoke of trust, love, and vulnerability. As I continued to move, my breath ragged and my body slick with sweat, I could feel the way Dosie responded to me, the way his body seemed to melt into mine.

In that moment, everything else faded away. It was just the two of us, lost in a world of our own making, where nothing else mattered but the way we felt about each other. The pleasure was intense, but it was the emotional connection that made this moment truly unforgettable. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word was a reflection of how much I cherished him, how much I wanted this to be more than just a fleeting encounter.

The rush of emotions was overwhelming, a tidal wave that crashed over us, pulling us deeper into the shared intensity of the moment. It wasn’t just the physical sensation of being inside Dosie that consumed me—it was the sheer emotional flood that accompanied every movement.

As I moved inside him, each thrust felt like a declaration, a desperate plea to merge our souls as completely as our bodies. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, a rhythmic drum that matched the urgency of our coupling. My breath came in ragged bursts, each gasp a testament to the depth of my feelings. The steam from the water enveloped us, creating a cocoon that seemed to amplify every sensation, every touch. It was as if the world outside had ceased to exist, leaving only the raw, pulsating connection between us.

Every inch of Dosie’s body felt alive under my touch. My hands, now slick with sweat, slid over his skin, tracing the contours of his body with a reverence that spoke volumes. The way his muscles tensed and relaxed, the way he responded to each caress—it was like discovering new depths of intimacy with every movement. My fingers grazed his sides, skimming over the wetness, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

My kisses traveled from his neck to his shoulders, then down to his back, each one a silent vow of my devotion. I could feel his shivers, the way his body responded to my touch with an intensity that matched my own. Every moan, every gasp was a thread in the intricate tapestry of our shared pleasure. It was as though we were weaving something together, a fabric of emotions that was both exhilarating and profoundly intimate.

As I continued, I felt a surge of urgency, an almost frantic need to express every ounce of my affection. My movements became more insistent, more driven. There was no plan, no thought beyond the immediate, primal urge to give myself completely to Dosie. Each thrust was a burst of emotion, a declaration of how deeply I cared for him. I felt my control slipping, but it was liberating, a release of every barrier that had once held me back.

My hands gripped Dosie’s hips tighter, pulling him closer, driving deeper, wanting to lose myself entirely in him. I could feel the way he clenched around me, the way his body seemed to ache with the same urgent need that drove me. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, a storm of sensation that swept us both away. I could feel every shudder, every tremor, each one a reflection of the connection we were forging.

It was a dance of passion and vulnerability, a heady rush of emotions that left me breathless. The way Dosie’s body moved with mine, the way he seemed to lose himself in the moment, it was as if we were creating something sacred together. The world outside ceased to matter; it was just us, caught in this intense, exhilarating whirlwind of feeling.

As the climax approached, it felt like a crescendo in a symphony of emotions, a peak that was both exhilarating and terrifying in its intensity. I could feel the way Dosie’s body tensed, the way he braced himself against me. My own release came as a powerful surge, a rush that left me utterly spent, yet completely satisfied.

In the aftermath, as the waves of pleasure slowly ebbed away, there was a profound sense of connection that lingered. The intimacy we had shared went beyond the physical—it was a deep, emotional bond that had been forged in the crucible of our passion. Every touch, every whisper was a testament to the depth of my feelings for Dosie, a reflection of how much he meant to me.

Holding him close, feeling his body relax against mine, I realized that this moment had been more than just a physical act. It had been a profound expression of our connection, a testament to how deeply we cared for each other. As we lay there together, wrapped in the warmth of the water and the steam, I felt a sense of peace and contentment that was unlike anything I had ever experienced.

The room was steeped in a tranquil darkness, broken only by the soft glow of the nightlight that cast gentle shadows across the walls. The sound of our breathing had gradually slowed, syncing in a steady rhythm as we lay entwined under the warm embrace of the sheets. The passage of time seemed almost imperceptible, marked only by the subtle shifts of our bodies and the comforting murmur of the outside world.

Hours had passed since the raw intensity of our union, and the night had settled into a peaceful stillness. Dosie, now relaxed and at ease, lay beside me, his body occasionally shifting as he found a comfortable position. The once fervent energy had given way to a serene quiet, punctuated only by the faint rustle of the sheets and the occasional sigh.

But as the night wore on, a sudden, sharp intrusion broke the silence—

My phone chimed. Beep-beep-boop .

It was a jarring contrast to the otherwise calm atmosphere, its insistence cutting through the tranquility like a knife. Dosie stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he sought the source of the disturbance.

After a few moments of disorientation, Dosie reached for his shirt, which had been discarded in the heat of the previous passion. He slipped it on with a practiced ease, his movements a bit sluggish but determined. The ringtone continued to pierce the quiet, and Dosie, now fully awake, fumbled for the phone.

When he finally managed to locate it, he saw the caller ID and froze for a moment. The name "chaein" flashed on the screen, a stark reminder of the complex web of relationships that had brought us to this point. Dosie took a deep breath, his fingers trembling slightly as he answered the call.

“Hello?” Dosie’s voice was steady, though the faintest tremor betrayed his nerves.

On the other end of the line, chaein’s voice was a mixture of confusion and concern. “Dosie? What’s going on? Why is [reader’s name]’s phone here? And why are you answering it?”

Dosie adjusted his position, trying to mask the tension in his body. “Hey, chaein. It’s... it’s a long story. [reader’s name] and I—” he hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “We’ve been together tonight. Things got pretty intense.”

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a soft gasp. chaein’s voice, though muffled, carried a note of disbelief. “What do you mean? I thought... I didn’t think you two were—”

“Yeah, well,” Dosie cut her off gently, “things have changed. We’re together now. I guess you could say that we’ve claimed each other.”

The line fell silent for a moment as chaein processed this information. Dosie could almost hear the wheels turning in her head, the realization of what was happening sinking in. He shifted uncomfortably, his legs still trembling from the earlier exertion. The physical reminder of our passionate encounter was evident, and he couldn’t help but feel a mix of pride and vulnerability.

In a moment of defiant confidence, Dosie allowed his phone to tilt slightly, revealing his shaking legs to the camera. “You see this?” he asked, his voice firm. “This is from the night [reader’s name] and I shared. We’ve been through something intense and real, something that you and I no longer have.”

chaein’s response was a mix of anger and resignation. “I never meant for things to end this way. I didn’t realize...”

Dosie’s voice softened slightly, but there was an undercurrent of resolve. “Well, now you know. [reader’s name] and I have found something special, something that goes beyond what we had. I’m not going to pretend otherwise.”

As the conversation continued, Dosie’s gaze drifted to where I lay asleep, a serene look on my face that spoke of the contentment we had found in each other. The room was filled with a deep, unspoken bond that had solidified over the course of the night.

In a final act of defiant assertion, Dosie struck a pose with a sense of triumph. He flashed a V-sign to the camera, a symbolic gesture of victory and affection. With a smirk, he snapped a selfie, making sure to perfectly frame my sex-drained form in the background. It was a snapshot that captured not just the physical aftermath of our encounter, but also the emotional victory of claiming each other amidst the chaos.

The picture spoke volumes—a visual testament to the profound connection that had blossomed between us, a declaration of our new reality. As Dosie ended the call and set the phone aside, he turned back to me, a satisfied smile on his face. The night had been transformative, and despite the turmoil of the past, it had brought us to a place of undeniable closeness and understanding.

I let out a long, contented sigh, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips. It’s been a while since I felt this good, this at peace. Being with Dosie was different—he was soft and sweet, but also had this fire in him that pulled me in deeper every time we were together. He was everything I didn’t know I needed, and I loved every part of him.

I couldn’t help but think about how much better things felt now. With Dosie, there was no tension, no walking on eggshells. He made me feel free and alive, and the best part was I didn’t have to try so hard to be happy. I ran my fingers lightly through his hair, feeling the silky strands slip through my fingers, and I couldn’t help but smile to myself. He was perfect, everything Chaein wasn’t. I didn’t even feel that usual pang when I thought about her now; it was just an empty memory that no longer had the power to hurt me. Dosie was new and improved—a fresh start.

I shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable without waking him. Dosie stirred, mumbling something incoherent, his lips brushing against my shoulder, sending a shiver down my spine. I pulled him closer, feeling his warmth seep into my skin. I didn’t want to let go. He felt like everything I didn’t know I was missing—gentle, loving, and wholly mine.

As I lay there, I realized how deeply I’d fallen for him. His laughter, his softness, the way he looked at me like I was the only person that mattered—it all made me feel complete in a way I hadn’t in a long time. I trailed my hand down his back, feeling the smooth line of his spine under my touch. He made me feel safe, like I could let my guard down and just be.

My eyelids were growing heavier, and I could feel the pull of sleep starting to take over. I nuzzled closer to Dosie, inhaling his familiar scent—sweet, fresh, a mix of something uniquely him that I couldn’t get enough of. The room was dim, only the soft glow of the streetlight outside filtering through the blinds, casting faint shadows across the room. It was peaceful, almost surreal how perfect everything felt in that moment.

I whispered a quiet, “I love you,” knowing he probably wouldn’t hear it, but it didn’t matter. I meant it, and that was enough. Dosie shifted again, his body molding perfectly against mine, and I wrapped my arm around him, holding him close as I felt myself slipping further into the comforting embrace of sleep.

For the first time in a long time, I felt at peace, completely and utterly content as I drifted off. Dosie was here, and that was all I needed. I let my mind go blank, the last thoughts of him and how much better my world felt with him in it, echoing softly in the quiet of the room as sleep finally took me.

I was on the edge of sleep, my mind floating somewhere between dreams and reality, when I felt the mattress dip. Dosie was moving, and I blinked my eyes open just enough to see him crawling back into bed. He must have slipped out for a moment, but now he was back, and the soft, sleepy smile on his face warmed me in ways I couldn’t put into words.

He nestled in front of me, his back pressing against my chest as he pulled the covers over us. The warmth of his body felt like heaven, and I instinctively wrapped my arm around his waist, drawing him closer. I buried my face in the nape of his neck, breathing him in, feeling the steady beat of his heart in sync with mine. I could feel his plump butt against me, soft and warm, fitting perfectly against my hips, and it made me smile against his skin. Everything about this felt right.

Dosie wiggled back a little more, getting as close as he could, and I couldn’t help but chuckle softly, squeezing him tighter. “Comfy?” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, sleepy but amused.

He hummed a quiet “Mhm,” and reached down to entwine his fingers with mine, holding my hand close against his chest. His body relaxed into me, his breathing slowing as he settled in, completely content. It was such a simple gesture, but it made my heart swell, and I pressed a gentle kiss to the back of his head.

Being wrapped around Dosie like this, his body pressed against mine, felt like the safest place in the world. I traced lazy circles on his stomach, enjoying the softness of his skin under my fingertips, and he let out a quiet, content sigh. It was a sound I could get used to, one that made everything else fade into the background.

As sleep started to pull me under again, I tightened my hold, savoring every second of having him close. Dosie was here, warm and safe in my arms, and nothing else mattered. I could feel his gentle breaths, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, and the steady comfort of his presence.

I buried my face deeper into his neck, letting my eyes finally close. With Dosie here, the world felt brighter, softer, and I knew I was exactly where I was meant to be. Slowly, I drifted off, holding him close, our bodies fitting together perfectly as we both slipped into a deep, peaceful sleep, tangled up in each other’s warmth.

6 notes · View notes