#and I’ll never be able to go back to a time where I didn’t need to worry about that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

buckyseternaldoll · 2 months ago

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Tied in Trust

an inspiration from this post by @buckgasms 💜

— Part 2: Held, Not Bound

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: You only asked for something light—just a little teasing, some rope, a blindfold. But Bucky Barnes never did anything halfway. Not when it came to you.

Disclaimer: SMUT 18+ (mdni!), rope bondage, sensory play (edging, overstimulation, blindfold), soft Dom! Bucky, established relationship, some tender aftercare...

Word Count: 7k

Author's Note: I am very inexperienced for this kind of play... 😔 and yes I am going to milk the gifs from this very scene for 89374748 more times tysm. I wrote this during hours of crying at work and struggling to stay awake from being overworked 🤫

“Are you sure you want this, hon?” His voice was low, hesitant—but so heartbreakingly tender it made your chest ache.

You looked up from the bed, where the soft cotton ropes lay coiled between you like quiet promises. “Very sure,” you said, with a breathless kind of smile.

You watched him wrestle with it. With the part of him that never quite let go of the fear he might hurt someone again. That part always hovered, shadowed behind his love, like a ghost that didn’t know how to rest. He stood near the bed, arms folded, jaw tight. But his eyes—God, his eyes—searched yours like they were trying to read the truth written in the lines of your face.

“I just…” He exhaled hard through his nose. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t.” You reached for him, fingers brushing his wrist, anchoring him to the present. “This is just for fun. Just something soft. I trust you.”

“But the ties… you won’t be able to move. And the blindfold…”

“We’ll go slow,” you promised. “And if anything doesn’t feel right, I’ll tell you. That’s what the safe word’s for.”

That got a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“What’d you pick again?”

You grinned. “Dim sum.”

A short laugh slipped from him, barely a breath. “Jesus. You couldn’t pick, I don’t know, red or pineapple?”

“It’s cute,” you said, pressing your forehead against his chest. “And you’ll remember it. Right, Sergeant?”

His hands, warm and callused, came to rest on your hips. You felt him sigh, deeply, the exhale pushing against your skin. He leaned down and kissed your temple.

“You’re a menace,” he murmured.

“But your menace,” you whispered back.

—

He took a step back.

Even in the soft glow of your bedroom, he looked devastating—broad-shouldered, tension coiled in every line of his frame. He was dressed down for once: just a white ribbed tank clinging to his chest and black sweatpants slung low on his hips. His metal arm gleamed faintly in the light.

And then his voice dropped.

“Take it off, sweetheart.”

You blinked.

“Clothes. Off. All of it—except the lace.” His tone wasn’t rough or harsh—it was smooth. Firm. Intentional. It made something low in your belly twist and flutter.

You swallowed and obeyed, fingers moving to lift the hem of your shirt first. The cotton slipped over your head, baring your skin to the room. You held his gaze as you hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your sleep shorts and slowly pushed them down your thighs, heart hammering in your chest.

The air hit your skin, cool and immediate. You stood in your black lace bra and matching panties—the set you knew he liked. The set he’d once said made you look like “something too good to touch.”

He let his eyes roam, slow and reverent. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

Then, quieter: “Lie back for me.”

You did.

—

He was quiet as he guided your arms above your head, positioning you with deliberate care. His fingers brushed against the skin of your inner wrists, soft and steady.

The rope was pale and worn, the kind that didn’t bite—just held. It moved through his fingers like second nature. He started slow. One loop. A second. A gentle tug.

His eyes flicked to your face, checking. Always checking.

“You doing okay?” His voice had dropped into something darker. Not cold. Just… heavier. Quieter.

“Yes,” you whispered.

He tied your wrists together, then anchored them to the headboard. It was snug, but not cruel. Just enough tension to remind you of who held the control tonight. Your breath caught—not from fear, but from the vulnerability of it. The surrender. The trust.

“Good girl,” he said under his breath, and you swore your pulse skipped.

Then he moved lower.

Bucky sat at the foot of the bed, large hands easing one ankle toward the bedpost. He kissed your shin softly before looping the rope around, threading it through with care. The other ankle followed—bound, spread. You were exposed now, laid bare and open to him, and still, he looked at you like you were something sacred.

“Too much?”

“Not even close.”

A beat passed. Then his hand slid over your thigh, up, up—until it ghosted close to your center. He didn’t touch, not yet. Just let the heat of his palm hover.

“I’ve got one more thing,” he said, voice a little hoarse.

You nodded, already knowing.

The blindfold.

He brought it forward—dark silk, cool to the touch—and laid it gently over your eyes. The world blinked out.

Your chest rose and fell faster now. Your heartbeat seemed louder in the dark. Every sound sharpened—the soft rasp of rope when he adjusted it, the creak of the bed as he knelt closer, the catch of his breath.

You felt his mouth on your cheek. Then your throat. Then just beneath your ear.

“Still okay?”

“Yes,” you whispered, already breathless. “Please…”

The air shifted. The mattress dipped between your thighs as he settled there, knees brushing yours. You could feel the heat of him—radiating from his chest, his stomach, his breath ghosting along your skin like fog on glass.

His metal fingers traced the rope where it wrapped your wrists. Down your arms. Across your hips. The contrast was electric—cold glinting over warm flesh, all sensation amplified by the dark.

“You look like a fucking dream,” he whispered, almost reverent. “Tied up so pretty for me.”

Your back arched instinctively, pulling against the restraint just to feel it. The tension. The ache. The longing.

“Say it again,” you begged.

He kissed your inner thigh.

“My good girl,” he breathed. “My sweet, obedient little doll.”

You whimpered.

“I’m gonna take care of you now,” he said, voice just above a growl. “Gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart. Just relax. Let me.”

And you did.

You surrendered.

To him. To the ropes. To the trust you knew would never be broken.

—

You could feel his breath against your inner thigh, just shy of your panties.

His hands—one warm, one cool—rested on your knees, keeping them spread just slightly wider. Just enough to remind you that you weren’t going anywhere.

Not with the knots he’d tied.

Not with how completely he had you.

He was quiet for a moment. Studying you.

You heard the soft shift of fabric as he adjusted on the bed, and then that voice—low, smooth, the one that always came right before he broke you down entirely—slipped into the dark:

“You do not give orders tonight, sweetheart.”

Your breath caught.

“You don’t ask me to touch you. You don’t tell me when. Or how.”

His hand moved—slowly, palm dragging up the inside of your thigh, not quite touching where you ached, but close enough to make you tremble.

“You lie there, and you take what I give you. Understood?”

“Yes, B—”

The hand stopped. Fingers dug in slightly.

You froze.

“Wanna try that again?” His tone didn’t rise. He didn’t need to yell. He never did. That voice, low and deep and unrelenting, could split you open with a whisper.

Your mouth parted, dry.

“Yes… Sergeant Barnes.”

A beat of silence. Then he hummed, pleased. “Good girl.”

The words made heat coil in your belly. Your hips shifted on instinct, pulling against the ropes at your ankles. They held perfectly. His knots, tight and clean, didn’t give an inch. You were spread and exposed, but safe. Completely his.

“Hands okay?” he murmured, his voice briefly returning to that gentler shade.

“Yes,” you whispered. “Not too tight.”

“Good. They won’t loosen,” he said, almost to himself. “Not until I say so.”

Then his mouth pressed against your thigh—slow, warm kisses trailing upward, and the fabric of your panties barely brushed by his stubble. He paused right before your center, exhaling into the damp heat there.

You whimpered.

“Look at you. Dripping,” he said, voice like syrup over ice. “And I haven’t even touched you properly yet.”

You squirmed in the ropes.

“Still,” he barked. Not loud. But sharp. Final.

Your muscles stilled instantly.

“Sergeant Barnes,” you breathed. “Please.”

“Oh, now you remember,” he said with a dark smile.

Then he moved—dragging his tongue slowly along the inner edge of your thigh, avoiding where you wanted him most. Your hips jerked involuntarily.

He pulled back.

“Tsk. That’s not staying still.”

“Please—”

“Please what?”

You swallowed. “Please touch me, Sergeant Barnes.”

There was silence. Delicious, torturous silence. Then:

“No.”

The word hit you like a jolt.

You whimpered, straining against the ropes again. You weren’t sure if the ache between your legs or the ache of denial was worse—but both of them burned.

“I think,” he said, slowly running a fingertip along the waistband of your panties, “you forgot your place for a second. Thought you were in charge.”

His thumb slipped beneath the fabric, teasing along the crease of your thigh. Not enough. Never enough.

“You’re gonna lie here, dripping and desperate, until I decide you’ve earned more.”

“James—” You whined.

“That’s two.”

You stiffened.

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear, breath warm and full of promise. “Slip my name again, and I’ll keep you tied up, untouched, so long you’ll forget what it felt like to come.”

You gasped, back arching against the mattress.

“Y-Yes, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Good girl,” he murmured again, and this time, his hand did press between your legs. Palm down. Just pressure.

You moaned—long and low—as he rocked his hand slowly against you, over the lace. The friction made you twitch, legs trembling. Your wrists flexed instinctively—but the ropes held, unyielding.

“You look so fucking perfect like this,” he said. “Tied up. Helpless. Dripping.”

And then—finally—he slid your panties aside.

Cool air rushed across soaked skin.

Then his fingers—two of them, thick and warm—slid between your folds, slow, smooth, claiming.

Your entire body jerked.

He held your hip with his metal hand, keeping you down.

“No running,” he said softly. “You take what I give you.”

“Y-Yes, Sergeant Barnes.”

The teasing—this unbearable edge between worship and control—was everything. He stroked you lazily, never speeding up. Just circling your clit with infuriating precision, dipping into you and dragging slick back up to start again.

Your thighs trembled.

“Such a sweet little mess already,” he murmured. “How long d’you think you’ll last, baby?”

“I—I don’t know—”

“Think we should find out?”

You whimpered, nodding helplessly into the blindfold.

“Color?”

“Green,” you gasped.

And he smiled, dark and pleased, like the soldier inside him had been starving for this kind of surrender.

“Good,” he said.

And then his mouth was on you.

—

He ate you like he had all night.

Like he had something to prove.

Like he’d starve if he didn’t make you come with nothing but his mouth.

His lips, his tongue—deliberate, slow, devastating. He held your thighs open with firm hands, anchoring your hips down as he mouthed over your folds. You gasped, body arching—ropes straining as your ankles flexed against them. You couldn’t move. Couldn’t run. Couldn’t breathe.

You were shaking.

“Sergeant Barnes,” you cried, voice trembling.

He groaned against your pussy—deep, sending vibration through your core—but didn’t stop. Not yet. Not until your thighs were shaking and your stomach was coiling tight, that white-hot bloom already rising—

“Close,” you gasped. “I—please, I’m—!”

And then—he pulled back.

Completely.

You whimpered, the sound guttural. Desperate. Your body writhing under the ropes, the orgasm ripped away before it could crest.

“No—no, please—” You tugged helplessly at your restraints. “Why—?”

You felt the mattress shift, his weight rising. Then his mouth was near your ear again, warm and maddening.

“You don’t come until I say so,” he growled. “Understand?”

You whimpered. “Yes, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Say it like you mean it.”

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes,” you sobbed, breathless.

“Good girl.”

And then his lips were on your breast—dragging across lace. Teasing, hot, humid breaths making you arch beneath him. His metal hand slid under your back, lifting your chest toward his mouth as his teeth grazed your nipple through the bra.

“Pretty little tits,” he muttered, voice like gravel. “Bet they’d look even better wrapped up for me.”

You trembled.

And that’s when he shifted again.

“On your feet.”

You blinked, confused, still half-dazed from denial. “Sergeant?”

He was already loosening your wrist ropes—but not untying them. He kept the knots intact, working them with speed and precision, metal fingers moving with masterful ease.

“You’re gonna stand for me,” he murmured. “Let me see you from every angle.”

Once your wrists were free, he helped guide you upright. You swayed on shaky legs, but he held you—one strong hand gripping your waist until you found balance.

You were still blindfolded. Still in your lace bra and panties. Still dripping and aching.

But then—his hands came to your back.

Not rough. Not rushed. Just a gentle graze of fingertips against the clasp of your bra.

“Off,” he said softly, but there was no mistaking the order.

You shivered as he undid the hooks one by one, letting the straps slip down your shoulders, fabric falling away. His hand swept the lace aside with reverence, baring your chest completely.

The cool air kissed your skin, and you inhaled sharply.

“Needed to see you properly,” he murmured. “Gonna tie you up real pretty now.”

Then Bucky guided your wrists above your head again, backing you up slowly until your shoulders bumped gently into the edge of the tall wardrobe at the corner of the room. You felt his hands lift yours—then the soft drag of rope over the wooden frame, threading expertly around the handles at the top.

He worked quickly, efficiently—looping and knotting in practiced silence.

“Hold still,” he murmured. “Almost there.”

The pull was firm. Your wrists were now secured above you, anchored to the wardrobe doors—just high enough to stretch your arms, just tight enough to make you feel owned.

He hadn’t planned this. But God, he made it look like he had.

He stepped back to admire you.

You couldn’t see him, but you felt his eyes like heat.

“Fucking beautiful.”

His fingers ghosted down your ribcage. Then across your stomach. Then up… and around.

The rope slid against your skin again, new coils this time. Smooth, strong, wrapping beneath and over your chest—circling your breasts in a criss-cross weave. Bucky moved deliberately, guiding the rope under your arms, then between the swells of your now-bare chest. You gasped as he pulled—not harsh, just enough to lift and frame you in knotted tension.

He tied it off with one last flourish: a perfect little bow nestled right beneath the valley of your breasts.

“For me,” he murmured. “My own personal present.”

You moaned softly.

“You alright?” he asked then, still checking. Always checking.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Still green.”

He kissed your jaw, then down to your shoulder. “Good.”

Then his hands cupped your breasts, gently, slowly squeezing—his thumbs brushing over your nipples through the lace and rope both. The dual sensation was electric. Your body shuddered against the bindings, held upright and helpless.

“You make the prettiest noises when I deny you,” he said softly, lips brushing your skin between words. “Might keep you like this a little longer.”

You gasped as he pinched gently, just enough to make you tremble.

“Sergeant Barnes—please—please…”

He chuckled darkly. “You’re gonna have to be real convincing, sweetheart. Because I could do this all night.”

And he meant it.

Because he didn’t get tired.

And because he wasn’t done yet.

—

His mouth was back on you.

Lapping, slow, relentless. Not building this time—but dragging you across the same raw nerve again and again. You were still tied to the wardrobe, blindfolded, trembling—hips twitching with every stroke of his tongue. There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

Your body was beyond ready.

Too ready.

You were so sensitive, each touch from him felt like a jolt—sweet and sharp, pleasure braided with ache. Your thighs flexed with every pass of his tongue. His stubble scraped lightly against your inner thighs, grounding you in every moment.

“Can’t take—” you choked out. “Please, Sergeant—I can’t—”

He only hummed into you.

Your knees nearly buckled.

You moaned and twisted in the ropes, muscles locking, toes curling. You were so close—but the tension made it hurt. The pleasure came wrapped in a raw edge now. You gasped, head tilting back against the wardrobe, chest heaving in your lace and rope harness.

“Please,” you begged again—softer this time, fragile, your voice cracking. “Please—Sergeant—hurts—hurts—”

Everything went still.

Instantly.

You felt his hands—one metal, one flesh—on your hips. Holding you. Steadying you.

Then his mouth lifted, and he spoke—his voice low, soft, but still firm. Still him.

“You still with me, sweetheart?”

You nodded, panting. “Y-Yeah. Green. Just—sensitive. Too much.”

He kissed your hipbone. Then your lower belly.

“You’re doing so fucking well for me,” he murmured, gentler now. “Took everything like a goddamn angel.”

His hands slid between your thighs, this time with purpose.

“You want me to finish you, doll?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Please, Sergeant Barnes—need it so bad—need you.”

A pause. Then—

“Color?”

“Green,” you gasped. “Please... please—please.”

His metal hand slid between your legs, thick fingers spreading you open, cool and deliberate.

You barely had time to brace.

One finger pushed in—then two.

Then three.

You moaned, hands fisting uselessly in the rope above your head.

Then—four.

You cried out.

The stretch burned and bloomed at once. Cool steel filled you, deeper than you’d ever been touched. He curled his fingers just so, and you shattered—legs shaking, thighs clenching, cries slipping raw from your throat.

“That’s it,” he whispered, lips close to your temple. “Come for me, baby. Come on my hand. Let go.”

And you did.

It surged through you like fire—hot and wet and overwhelming. Your knees buckled, held only by the ropes and his grip. Your whole body convulsed against the bindings, and all you could do was moan.

He kissed your cheek, then dragged his fingers slowly from you.

“So beautiful,” he said, voice reverent. “So fucking beautiful like this.”

Then—he brought his hand to your lips.

“Open.”

You obeyed.

Cool metal touched your tongue—coated in slick, tasting of you. You moaned as he pressed his fingers against your lips, and he leaned in to kiss you at the same time, messy and deep. Your taste spread between you, sticky and intimate.

When he pulled back, you were breathless—barely clinging to the afterglow.

But he wasn’t done.

His hand returned to your chest—the rope harness still framing your breasts in neat, deliberate loops. You felt him tug.

Tighter.

The pressure surged, sudden and perfect.

You cried out again—a sharp, broken moan as your nipples stiffened, hypersensitive.

“God,” he breathed. “You take it so well. All tied up, chest heaving, face flushed—fuck, baby.”

He tightened the final knot just enough to send sparks dancing behind your eyes.

“Mine,” he whispered.

You whimpered. “Yours.”

Finally, finally—he touched your blindfold.

The silk slipped away, and the room returned in soft golden blur—warm light, and him in front of you.

Bucky, flushed and firm-jawed, eyes dark and aching with need. His white tank clung to his chest, damp with sweat, and the outline of his cock was straining thick and hard against his black sweatpants.

“Look at me,” he said, voice rough. “You’ve earned it.”

He reached up and loosened the rope from your wrists, guiding them down gently. Your arms ached. He held them in his hands, kissed your knuckles. You swayed against him.

“Now,” he growled, stepping back just slightly—eyes dropping to his waistband. “On your knees.”

You sank instantly, dizzy with obedience.

“Pull my pants down.”

Your fingers trembled, but you obeyed. You gripped the waistband, dragging his sweats and briefs down together—and there he was. Hard, flushed, thick and dripping at the tip.

“Stroke me, sweetheart,” he said, voice barely holding together. “Nice and slow. Look at me while you do.”

You wrapped your hand around him, fingers sliding over velvet skin and thick, aching weight. His cock pulsed in your grip. His head dropped back, and he moaned—low, strained, almost pained.

“Fuck, baby… just like that. So good. So perfect.”

And when his eyes met yours again—dark and molten, flickering with every last bit of restraint he had left—you knew:

He was yours.

And he was about to fall apart for you.

—

His cock pulsed in your hand.

You could barely close your fingers around him—thick and hot, swollen with need. A bead of precum slipped from the tip, and you swiped your thumb through it slowly, spreading it around the sensitive head. He hissed through clenched teeth.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You look so good like this. My sweet little civilian. On your knees for your Sergeant.”

You felt yourself clench, body still trembling from your own orgasm. The ropes around your chest still cradled your breasts—tight, lifted, your nipples flushed and swollen inside the lace.

“Open,” he ordered.

You did.

Lips parted, tongue out, eyes wide.

But just before you leaned in, his voice dropped—deeper, darker.

“No sounds.”

You blinked.

He brushed the back of his hand across your cheek. “You moan, whimper, even breathe too heavy, and I’ll tighten those sweet little nipples until you remember how to stay quiet.”

Your breath hitched.

But you nodded. “Yes, Sergeant Barnes.”

And then you wrapped your lips around him.

The taste—heady, salt-slick, impossibly good. Your tongue worked slowly over the underside, dragging against that sensitive ridge as you took him deeper. The weight of him on your tongue made your thighs press together instinctively.

He groaned. Loud. Rough. His hips rocked forward, just slightly.

And you couldn’t help it.

You moaned around him.

Soft. Just a breath.

But he noticed.

IIn an instant, you felt his hand reach down—fingers brushing the curve of your chest, then dipping beneath the taut rope harness. He cupped one breast firmly, then let his thumb and forefinger pinch your nipple through the lace—light at first. A warning.

You whimpered again.

The pinch tightened.

You gasped softly around his cock.

He didn’t stop.

Other hand now—metal fingers cold and precise, rolling the other nipple just a little tighter, tugging gently. Pain bloomed under the pleasure, sharp and hot.

You tried to focus. Tried to breathe through your nose. Tried not to moan when his cock twitched on your tongue, salty and slick.

But another sound slipped.

“Mm—”

The pinch intensified.

You cried out, pulling back with a small hiss—this one real. Not performative. Not playful.

It hurt.

Too much.

Instantly, his hands dropped.

His voice changed. “Hey—hey, hey. Baby—” Softer now. Gentle. “I’m sorry. Let me see.”

You looked up. His brows were drawn, mouth parted. He crouched down in front of you, hands already untying the bow at your chest, pulling the rope harness down gently so he could cradle your breasts in his palms.

His thumbs brushed your nipples carefully, inspecting.

“Shit, sweetheart—I didn’t mean—”

“I’m okay,” you whispered, heart still racing. “Just… too sensitive. Still coming down.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “I pushed too far. That’s on me.”

Your fingers lifted to his jaw. “It’s okay, Sergeant,” you said softly, voice full of mischief and invitation. “Stay in character.”

His eyes flickered—heat returning, but tempered by something softer. A slow exhale rolled through him. He nodded once.

You smiled, then leaned forward again.

You kissed the head of his cock—slow, delicate.

Your tongue swirled around it, featherlight, teasing. You kept your eyes on him, stroking him from base to tip while your mouth played at the crown. Not deep yet. Just wet, soft licks, and the steady glide of your palm along his thick shaft.

Bucky hissed. His abdomen tensed. “Fuck, baby…”

You dragged your tongue across the slit, tasting the salt of him.

Then down the underside—slow, deliberate—while your fist tightened slightly, twisting just enough to make him curse under his breath.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart. Look at you.”

You moaned quietly this time, not enough to break rules—but just enough to let him feel it.

Your tongue flattened again, mouth closing over the tip while you stroked him in rhythm. You could feel him twitching in your palm now, see the flush climbing his chest, his abs tensing with every breath.

His hand threaded into your hair—not to force you, but to feel you.

To anchor himself in you.

“Keep going,” he growled, voice cracking. “Don’t stop. You’re—fuck, you’re perfect.”

Your other hand came to rest on his hipbone for balance as you picked up speed—mouth wetter, strokes tighter, sucking him just to the edge and easing off.

You wanted him to fall apart.

You wanted to be the reason.

And from the way his jaw clenched, the way his thighs started to tremble, you were close.

So fucking close.

Your tongue circled the head of his cock again—slow, teasing. You stroked him tighter now, fist pumping in rhythm with your mouth. He was so close you could feel it—his hips twitching, his hand tightening in your hair.

“Fuck, sweetheart—fuck, I’m gonna—”

You didn’t stop.

Didn’t slow.

You wanted it.

With a ragged groan, Bucky’s hips jerked—thick, hot ropes of cum spilling onto your tongue as you took him as deep as you could, your throat flexing around him. He groaned again, louder, head falling back, abs trembling.

You held it. Every drop.

He looked down at you, panting, voice still breathless but laced with command.

“Stand up.”

Your legs were shaky, your muscles still strung tight from before—but you obeyed. You rose slowly to your feet, lips still closed, his taste heavy on your tongue.

He reached for your waist to steady you—his touch both grounding and possessive. He tilted your chin up with two fingers.

“Don’t swallow,” he ordered, voice low, eyes locked on yours. “Not until you’re looking at me.”

Your eyes—half-lidded, dazed—met his.

He smirked, satisfied.

“Good girl.”

You swallowed.

He exhaled slowly, his palm brushing your jaw, then cupping your cheek like he couldn’t help it. The look in his eyes had shifted—less fire, more warmth. But he was still Sergeant Barnes. Still your sergeant.

Then something changed.

His gaze dropped.

His thumb brushed a faint, reddish bruise around your wrist where the rope had held you tight. He turned your arm slightly, inspecting the other one—same marks. His brow creased.

Then he crouched, fingers trailing down your leg to the flushed indentation circling your ankle—the place the rope had dug in while keeping you wide open for him. He pressed there gently, then looked up again, jaw tight.

Finally, his gaze moved to your chest.

He reached up, fingertips ghosting over the places where the rope harness had pressed into your skin—framing your breasts, pulled taut around your ribs. Even beneath the lace of your bra, the skin was marked: soft pink lines curving beneath each swell, rising along your sternum.

His touch lingered there. Slower now. Guilt ghosting behind his eyes.

“You okay?” he murmured.

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

You nodded—but he still looked conflicted.

“I didn’t mean to mark you this much,” he said, quieter now. “I wasn’t thinking—I should’ve—”

“You did everything right,” you interrupted, stepping in closer. “I asked for it. I still want it.”

He looked at you, searching. Hesitant.

“I want you to fuck me.”

He blinked.

“In the ropes,” you added, voice barely a whisper. “Like… really tied. Not soft this time.”

He went completely still.

“Just this once,” you whispered. “Please.”

He swallowed, jaw tightening. That same battle behind his eyes—the one he always lost when it came to you.

He sighed.

Long. Heavy. Resigned.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Then his eyes lifted again—and they’d changed.

Gone soft to steel in a breath.

“Alright,” he said, stepping toward you, voice low and sure. “You want tied, sweetheart?”

You nodded.

“You want to be used?”

Another nod. Breathless.

He moved behind you, and you felt the rope brush your skin again—familiar now, sacred. He kissed your shoulder, then bent down, whispering by your ear.

“Then Sergeant Barnes is gonna ruin you.”

And this time?

You welcomed it.

His breath lingered at your neck, warm and steady. His fingers skimmed your waist, then reached for the rope again—sliding it through his palm like it belonged there.

But then he paused.

You felt it—not hesitation, exactly, but calculation.

His voice came quieter now, still dark with command, but tinged with thought.

“…This’ll be easier if I anchor the rope under the bed.”

You blinked, breath hitching. “Sergeant?”

“I’ve never done a full-bed setup like this. Not properly. And if I’m gonna wreck you,” he said, tugging your body tighter against his, “we’re doing it right.”

He reached for his phone on the dresser—one hand still on your hip.

You turned, half-laughing, flushed. “Are we seriously—”

“Quiet,” he said, tapping the screen. “Sergeant Barnes is researching.”

You bit your lip.

He opened YouTube.

You watched, still half-naked, the breast harness now back in place—tied tighter than before, with that perfect little bow beneath your breasts—as he searched for a video like it was part of a mission briefing.

“…‘Ten-Minute Bed Bind Tutorial’?”

“I like to be thorough,” he muttered.

“Bucky—”

His head snapped toward you.

You froze.

He raised an eyebrow. “Try again.”

You swallowed, lips twitching. “Sergeant Barnes.”

His smirk returned.

He pressed play.

—

Two minutes and thirty seconds later:

Rope across the headboard. Ankles spread. Wrists retied. Rope loops secured under the mattress in perfect symmetry. He’d adjusted everything to fit the frame, then added two anchor points at your thighs—not to bind them, but to keep them open.

“Video said ten minutes,” he muttered, tugging the last knot into place. “Took me two.”

You swallowed. Hard.

He stepped back to admire you.

You were flat on your back, arms bound above your head, legs spread wide. The ropes pressed against your wrists, your ankles, even the bend of your thighs. Your chest was framed by the harness—tight, elevated, perfect.

You looked like a gift.

He looked like he wanted to unwrap you slowly, then ruin you completely.

His voice dropped. “Color?”

“Green,” you breathed.

And just like that, his gaze darkened.

He climbed onto the bed, straddling your thighs. One knee pressed between your legs, widening your bound position further.

He didn’t kiss you.

He marked you.

Teeth at your neck. A slow suck against your collarbone. A lingering bruise beneath your jawline. Every place he touched was not a kiss—it was a warning.

You whimpered.

He froze.

“You making noise already?” he asked, voice slow and dangerous. “I haven’t even touched your pussy yet.”

You bit your lip. “Sorry, Sergeant—”

His fingers grabbed the rope at your hips and gave it a sharp tug.

The restraint pulled tighter, forcing your thighs open, arching your spine. You gasped at the sudden tension, breath snagging in your chest.

“That’s what happens when you disobey,” he growled. “Tighter. Less movement. No friction.”

Then, cruelly—he slid his hand between your thighs.

But didn’t touch.

“Try grinding again,” he warned. “See how that ends for you.”

You whimpered again—couldn’t help it—and he dipped his head back down, lips dragging along your sternum, following the path of the rope.

He left another hickey between the curves of your breasts.

Then lower.

You bit your tongue to stay silent as his mouth worked downward, every kiss staking another claim. Every mark a punishment you craved.

“I’m gonna edge you until your voice breaks,” he whispered, breath hot against your panties. “And if I hear one sound—just one—I’ll pull these ropes so tight you’ll forget how to breathe.”

You nodded—eyes wide, breath locked in your throat.

“Good girl.”

Then his mouth pressed against your soaked lace.

Hot. Open. Slow.

And you were already trembling again.

—

You were already soaked.

Already trembling.

And he hadn’t even pulled your panties aside yet.

His breath coasted over the lace—hot, deliberate. You felt it more than heard it: the moment his mouth pressed flat against you. Open-lipped. A slow grind of heat and tongue that made your back arch involuntarily, ropes pulling at your wrists and ankles.

Still, you stayed quiet.

You had to.

His tongue slid along the edge of the lace, teasing the damp spot that had grown and spread—and when he pushed the fabric aside, he groaned low.

“Dripping.”

You whimpered.

He paused.

His lips brushed your thigh, then your hip. “That a sound of pain?”

You shook your head furiously, biting your lip.

“No, Sergeant,” you gasped, barely whispering. “Just… overwhelmed.”

“Good.”

And then he dove in again.

His mouth was sin itself—his tongue dragging slowly up your folds, circling your clit in perfect pressure, and then backing off again. Not enough. Never enough.

Your legs trembled, straining against the ropes. Every part of you ached for more, and still—you didn’t make a sound.

Until—

Your breath hitched.

A sharp, strangled inhale—not from pleasure, but something sharper.

He stopped instantly.

Pulled back.

“Sweetheart?” he said, and the voice wasn’t Sergeant anymore. It was Bucky. Gentle. Threadbare. “Too much?”

You shook your head, blinking back tears. “Just sensitive.”

He smoothed his hand over your thigh, kissing the inside of your knee.

“You still want to keep going?”

“Yes. Please.”

His gaze flicked over your body again. The rope marks. Your trembling. Your patience. Your trust.

“Gonna take care of you now,” he whispered. “Gonna go slow. Just feel me.”

He shifted on the bed, weight dipping between your thighs, and you felt the warm, heavy press of him lining up against your entrance—bare, thick, and aching to be inside you.

Still tied.

Still wide open.

Still his.

He pushed in slowly—inch by inch—watching you the entire time. His cock stretched you gradually, thick and hot, forcing your body to yield around him.

You moaned—not loud, just deep. Raw.

“You okay?”

“Y-Yeah.”

He kissed your forehead.

Then your lips.

Then stayed still.

“You feel like heaven,” he whispered. “So tight. So fucking perfect. I’m gonna move now, alright?”

You nodded.

And he did.

Gentle at first. Controlled. Like every thrust was a thank you for your trust. For the ropes. For the silence. For letting him ruin you.

He reached down, his metal thumb brushing over your clit in soft, slow circles, and you shattered around him—moaning against the rope, breath broken, body shaking beneath him.

“Good girl,” he whispered. “That’s it. That’s it.”

And when your body finally stilled—aftershocks pulsing through your thighs—he slowed again.

Paused.

His forehead rested against yours.

“…Can we let go of the ropes now?” he asked softly. “Just for the rest of it. I just wanna hold you.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

He kissed you.

Then gently—so gently—untied your wrists first, kissing the marks. Then your ankles. Then the breast harness, easing each loop free, his hands slow and reverent. He tossed the rope aside. You were bare again. Just you and him. No bindings. No roles. Just two bodies flushed with need, breathing in tandem.

And you were ready.

—

He flipped you onto your stomach, then lifted your hips slightly, easing a pillow beneath you. Your body melted against the sheets, pliant and warm.

He slid back in from behind—deeper now, unrestrained, hips pressing flush against your ass with every push. The thrusts were heavier, hungrier. His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging in—not to bruise, but to anchor.

Skin met skin. The sound of it echoed in the room, heady and obscene.

“God, baby,” he growled, voice ragged with heat. “You take me so well. You’re so fucking good for me.”

You moaned, louder now, gasping his name—no more ranks, no more games. Just Bucky.

He didn’t mind.

Not anymore.

One hand slid up your spine, palm warm against your back. He leaned over you, lips brushing your shoulder, and whispered, “I’ve got you. All of you.”

You whimpered—because you knew it was true.

Then he slowed, hips pulling back.

“Ride me,” he rasped. “Wanna watch you fall apart.”

You turned, breathless and trembling, and climbed over him—straddling his lap in reverse, thighs spread wide over his. His cock slid in again, thick and hot, your body molding to him like it had been made for it.

You rocked your hips.

He groaned, hands clenching at your waist. Then your ass. Then up to your breasts, cupping them from behind, lifting them, thumbs brushing your nipples.

“Just like that, baby. Fuck—just like that.”

You bounced. Slowly at first, then with rhythm. You were soaked. Sore. So blissfully full.

You felt another orgasm mounting—deep, dizzying, your core clenching tight. He felt it too—the way your walls fluttered, the way your thighs shook.

“Come for me,” he gasped. “I wanna feel it—wanna feel all of it.”

And you did.

Hard.

You cried out, the sound ragged and raw, your body convulsing around him as pleasure tore through you like a wave.

You collapsed forward, catching yourself on shaky hands. He followed—gripping your hips, thrusting up into you once, twice—then spilling inside with a low, broken groan.

But he wasn’t finished.

He pulled you down beside him, kissing you hard—tongue slow and sweet against yours.

Then he flipped you again, pulling your leg up over his shoulder. He pushed in from the side this time, deep and slow, hitting a new angle that made your whole body arch off the sheets.

You gasped. “Fuck—Bucky—”

He growled your name against your throat. “Can’t get enough of you. Need all of you.”

He rocked into you, fingers sliding to your clit—lazy circles while he moved inside, deeper with every stroke. You clenched around him again, tears pricking your eyes from the overload.

Then he pulled out again and laid back, breath shallow. “On top of me. Face me this time.”

You straddled him again, facing him now. You slid down onto him, and the look he gave you—the pure reverence in his eyes—made your chest ache.

You rode him slow. Intimate.

His hands found your hips, then your thighs, then cupped your jaw.

You held eye contact as your bodies moved together—raw, unfiltered, real.

“You’re everything,” he whispered. “You’re my fucking everything.”

You kissed him through another climax. Your body clenching, thighs shaking.

And then he came again—softer this time. Less control. Just need.

You stayed there, chest pressed to his, lips brushing his jaw as he caught his breath.

Then, tenderly, he tucked your hair behind your ear. “Still with me, baby?”

You nodded against his chest. “Always.”

His arms wrapped around you, holding you close.

And in the warmth of tangled sheets and exhausted bodies, you both finally found rest.

—

You weren’t even sure how long you’d laid there.

Your body hummed. Spent. Boneless. Covered in a thin sheen of sweat and kisses. Muscles aching in the best way. You were splayed across Bucky’s chest, barely able to breathe—heart still galloping in your ribs, pulse fluttering weakly against his throat.

He brushed your hair back with careful fingers. His other hand rubbed your lower back in slow, grounding circles.

You shifted, blinking blearily up at him.

“Jesus Christ,” you rasped, voice wrecked.

He smiled. One of those crooked, boyish ones that made your stomach flip.

“You okay, doll?”

“No,” you whispered. “I’m officially wrecked. I’m actually broken.”

That made him chuckle, chest vibrating beneath your cheek. “Mission accomplished.”

He gently eased out of you—slow and apologetic—and you hissed slightly at the tenderness. He cupped your jaw immediately, brushing his thumb along your cheek.

“Hey. Stay here, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

You nodded weakly and collapsed back against the pillows.

A few moments passed. You heard water running in the ensuite. The soft rustle of a towel.

Then Bucky returned, naked, crouching at the edge of the bed with a warmth in his eyes that made your chest ache.

“Let me clean you up,” he murmured, voice low, coaxing.

He was so careful.

He wiped between your thighs gently, whispering soft praises as he went. You whimpered once—overstimulated—and he immediately paused, planting a kiss to your hipbone.

“Sorry, baby. I know,” he said. “Almost done.”

When he finished, he helped you back under the covers and climbed in beside you. You curled into him instinctively—head tucked under his jaw, leg draped over his hip, the afterglow still crackling between your skin.

Bucky exhaled, slow and content. His fingers traced idle shapes along your side.

“You know what?” you muttered, half-slurred with exhaustion. “I’m so jealous you never get tired.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “You say that like I didn’t just have the best cardio session of my life.”

You giggled, half-asleep. “Still. Not fair. You’re super soldier. I’m mortal. You’ll be ready again in ten minutes.”

He smirked. “Perks of being me. Also means I can always satisfy that pretty little appetite of yours.”

You groaned. “God, cocky and correct.”

“I prefer efficient,” he said, kissing your forehead. “And wildly devoted.”

You chuckled again, sleep dragging at your limbs. He tugged the blanket up around your shoulders, tucking you against his chest.

A quiet settled over you both. The kind that only came after total trust. After surrender.

After love.

Your breathing slowed.

He watched it happen.

Watched you drift—lips parted, lashes fluttering faintly against your cheeks. You looked worn down in the most beautiful way. Glowing. Messy. Loved.

He waited until your breathing deepened.

Then—carefully—he slid out from under you.

He padded softly to the bathroom again. Pulled open the drawer. Found the small tin of petroleum jelly Wanda had insisted everyone carry for dry skin and weird mission rashes.

He returned quietly, crouching at the edge of the bed. You didn’t stir.

He kissed your shoulder first. Then your wrist.

He traced the faint red marks there—left by the ropes. A loop, a spiral. A memory.

He dabbed the jelly gently onto the skin. Then your ankles. Then the light indentation around your ribcage and chest, where the harness had held you snug and still. He rubbed it in slow, careful strokes.

When he finished, he just looked at you for a long moment.

Then he climbed in beside you again. Pulled you into his arms.

You murmured something in your sleep—nonsense and vowels—but leaned into his chest.

Bucky smiled.

“Sleep, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I’ll still be here.”

And he held you through the night.

#by elle.ᐟ #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky x you #bucky barnes one shot #mcu!bucky #soft dom!bucky

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thebestandworstdayofjune · 2 months ago

Text

you can hear it in the silence

summary: you have had an insane crush on Clark since he moved to metropolis, but thank god he has no idea about the way he makes your heart skip a bear every time he smiles (honey, you've got a big storm comin') wc: 1k+ a/n: Please feel free to send any requests my way! warnings: general fluff, reader owns a bookstore, reader has no idea about clark's powers, as always the title is from a Taylor Swift song- sue me

“It’s not a big deal, Clark.” you insist, phone squished between your ear and your shoulder.

“It’s a big deal to me.” he insists, an unusual heaviness to his voice.

“It will take a while, but I'll manage, I mostly just called to complain.” You surveyed the boxes stacked up in front of the storefront, hands on your hips and a frown playing at the corner of your lips. When your grandmother had left you her quaint bookstore in downtown Metropolis, you had half a mind to sell it off to the first interested buyer. You’d gone as far as contacting a realtor, but cancelled the first showing at the last minute.

Too much of your childhood was nestled in between the children’s books and the non fiction shelves, too many memories of your grandmother hosting story time and holding copies of the new releases you’ve been dying for to be able to part with it.

You’d given everyone the day off, a few employees were headed to a festival in the park, someone was on a family vacation and overall, it was meant to be a slow day at the shop. And it was, until the delivery man left you with 30 hulking boxes of new release hard covers. Worse yet, it looked like it was going to rain.

“I’m on my break, I’ll head over.”

It was pointless, to argue, once Clark had an idea in his head, he was stubborn. But you were a bit of a slow learner. “By the time you get here your break is going to be awful. I’m sure that traffic is terrible because of the festival.”

“You have such little faith in me!” you turned to find Clark a ways down the block, arms stretched out, his suit just a big too big on his frame. His hair was windswept, glasses slightly crooked perched on his nose. He jogged towards you, a goofy smile on his face.

“How do you keep doing this?” If you didn’t know better, you would swear that Clark was psychic. He was somehow always exactly where you needed him to be.

Clark slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you tight against his side for a moment. “Just gifted I guess.” He gave you another squeeze before releasing you and stepping back to assess the situation. “You sure you ordered enough?”

You playfully shoved him, but he didn’t even wobble. Clark had been your rock ever since he moved into the city. You’d been close falling off a ladder, stretching to dust the top of a shelf when the ladder had begun to tilt. He’d tripped over a stack of books on the way, but he managed to prop the ladder back upright, you along with it. “We have that signing in a couple weeks, didn’t want to run out.”

All he did was nod, shrugging off his suit jacket that somehow was just a bit too big for his frame and rolled up the sleeves of his white button down. “We’ll take care of it,” he said, voice sure. And with the way he managed to lift three of the boxes as if they were full of pillows, you were inclined to believe him.

It had taken the two of you all of five minutes to get everything inside, not that Clark had allowed you to move more than the first box. “You make a way better doorman anyways.” He joked without malice. You were leaning up against the counter, your shoulder bumping into his arm.

“Don’t say I never do anything for you, Clark.”

“I never would.” Your gaze was fixed firmly on the floor, but you could feel the intensity in his gaze burning into the side of your head, regardless. You settle for leaning a bit of your weight against him, taking comfort in his arm wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you close.

“Wait,” you turned, nearly crawling across the counter to wake up the computer sitting on the other side of the counter. “You’re going to be late!”

“When have I ever been late?” you could hear the laughter in his voice, but you ignored it in favor of grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. You grabbed his shoulders, and mercifully he let you guide him to the door. You knew from past experience if he didn’t want to go, there was no way to move him.

“Last week, I was stranded at the Thai place down the street!”

He stopped dead in his tracks, leaning against the doorway and pushing the curls resting on his forehead away with the back of his hand. He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “For how long?”

“That’s not the point, you presented the information as an objective truth!” you resisted the urge to stomp your foot, he was already looking pointedly at your crossed arms and making the face he does when he’s trying not to laugh in your face.

“I asked a question, I think the trouble lies in your interpretation.” He was leaning down to meet your eyes, and you were thankful there was no way he could hear the way your heart was pounding. "And it was only five minutes."

You shoved him gently, ignoring the fact that he didn’t so much as wobble. “You’re going to be late, go!” You both paused, the moment heavy between you. All you could focus on was the rise and fall of his chest under your hands for a few moments. One of his hands rested over both of yours, squeezing briefly before stepping back and letting your hands drop.

“Be careful on the ladder this time.”

“Go!”

He lingered for a few moments longer, giving you a final once over before nodding to himself and spinning on his heel. After a few steps, he turned around to face you, his head sticking up above the crowd of people on the sidewalk. “We still on for dinner?”

“Late!” you laughed, waving him off. He raised his eyebrows, unphased by the people forced to part around him. “Yes! Now go!”

You stood in the doorway, watching him duck and dodge the other pedestrians for longer than you would admit, thankful that he hadn’t turned and caught you.

Unfortunately for you, even in a crowd of people with his back turned, he couldn’t help but be aware of you. You just didn’t know it yet.

next part

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lustlovehart · 11 months ago

Text

[ Monsters List ] - Sensitive info with targets abilities

A/n: Not my usual writing at all! these details are relationship stuff each character has with the reader that isn’t shown in the main story. (Some details are omitted to avoid spoilers). Now that this is done, I’ll be going back to the main story line now ^^. If i’m missing any warnings, please say so.

Pairing: [Monster!Twst x Reader] Featuring, Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Cater, Trey, Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Azul, Jade, Floyd, Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Rook, Epel, Idia, Malleus, Lilia, Sebek, Silver, Rollo, & Neige.

Summary: Dear, [Name], Crowley just informed me he did not give the courtesy of listing all the beasts and their abilities into your possession, please allow me to be the one to aid you. Here are bullets of their names and prowesses, as well as species. Please, do stay safe and out of trouble, and remember to eat and sleep well. Love, From, Rollo.

“Did it send?” “I… I’m sorry Sir Rollo, it seems we were unable to reach [Name] in time…” “…What.”

Warnings: Some fuffy and some aren’t, Stalking, Mentions of Nsfw (Vil). Zombies (Ace, Deuce), Biting (Ace, Deuce, and Jamil), Squeezing? (Jamil, Floyd), Hints of possession in each section, Blood Drinking (Epel, Jade, Lilia), They’re all monsters that are evil so… Murder, Kisses (Kalim, Floyd, Malleus), Blood,

Prologue Chapter

Riddle Rosehearts [ Ghost ]

- Warning: Capable of Magic. [ Magic is a mystery in the field, all that is known is it’s abilities monsters have that aren’t typically in their species skillset, as well as being especially powerful to utilize it ]

- He posses the abilities of, phasing, possession, kinesis (many different kinds), invisibility, telepathy, and short moments of time where he can have a physical body. He tends to forget he’s a ghost leading to numerous times where you’ve accidentally injuried yourself and he rushes to your side to give aid, only for his to hand phase through you instead of truly helping. He feels guilty not being able to help you.

There’s a secret part of him that feels less guilty and more angry, about being incapable of touching you all the time. Sometimes, he wishes he was Ace just so he could wrap some part of him around you, but alas, he can only do so in short intervals, which just… isn’t enough.

- Has a habit of just, watching. You’ve caught him at your window at night. He insists coming in without permission is unlawful, to which you tell him looking at you through glass is just plain creepy. You now invite him for tea parties, yet that still doesn’t stop him from longingly gazing through the glass that separates you two. (freak)

- Glows a bright red when he’s either angry or extremely flustered. You walked in one time when the former was happening and were temporarily blinded, in your own temporary home no less…

With the latter… he was helping you figure out a crossword puzzle from a lost book you had found during the night. When he helped you figure it out, he swears your smile was so bright he was blinded. In your case, at least you didn’t need a lantern to see the page anymore.

- He has numerous stitches on his body, his mouth, his neck, and his heart, or at least, where it would’ve been had he still had it. In the short times when he decides to take on a physical form, he enjoys letting your hands trace over the numerous threads through his skin… He won’t admit it, but it’s a comfort.

- When he’s working, his exposition completely changes. You get scared of him, you forget just how determined he is to being the pinnacle of perfection, even as a monster.

- Survival: Fear and Grievances, prays on victims through Possesion and death.

Ace Trappola & Deuce Spade [ Zombies ]

- Infectious Bites. There have been many close calls where the two almost bit you, secretly hoping to turn you into them in their delusions of being with you forever, it never works though cause when they try, you turn and give them a smile that haunts them so bad they can’t bear the thought of you hating them. The idea always rears its ugly head back to them, but then you treat the two like a regular human and, unknowingly, save yourself just a little longer.

- Anatomy Control (Disassembling limbs and still having control). Deuce has a very common occurring tendency, that leads him to lose his limbs on occasion. He can still feel what they feel, but when they separate from him, they tend to have a mind of their own. There have been several times where you’ve been the one to return a limb, typically his hand, and he’s all fidgety cause it just refuses to let go of you.

“I… I promise this doesn’t usually happen…! I have no idea why it won’t let go of you” with how lovingly it was stroking your hand earlier (which you won’t mention to Deuce)… You’re not too sure either… Does it like the feeling of warmth? “Next time this happens, just… Feel free to stab it” he looks dejected, but you accept his offer nonetheless.

- Ace has asked to sleep with you in your bed because his grave is so cold and lonely. You wouldn’t want him dying alone a second time right? That’s too cruel. He was surprised when you accepted, even more so when you said there weren’t rules like “You have to stay on this side of the bed!” or “Don’t touch me!”, he asked you if you had a thing for him, to which you only quirk up your eyebrow at his question.

“Hm…? I’ve slept with someone before, I don’t think it’s that serious.” … What. Who’s this someone?! He doesn’t end up sleeping as he’s left wondering who you’ve been with before him, little does he know this someone was just a reserved monster hunter who was watching over you with a fever.

- They’re the most attached to you, in a physical sense. Considering at least one, or even more, of the limbs on the duo is just bones, along with Deuce missing an eye and Ace missing part of his face, it’s a bit hard for them to go out without giving people a heart attack. So… They break into wherever you’re temporarily staying, which is typically an abandoned house, and accompany you in every location they possibly can. One very worrying thing they do, is stick their limbs in your bag. They won’t admit it but, it’s cause they miss you. You need to tell them sticking Ace’s eye in there to keep watch is NOT okay.

- Survival: Eating Humans

Cater Diamond [ Ghost…? ]

- Phasing, possession, invisibility, telepathy. Though you don’t see him use any of these capabilities very much. You wonder why but never go through with asking him, how could you when he looks so happy to be in your presence? At least, you think he’s happy. You can never tell if it’s genuine or not… His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes like everyone else…

- Whenever he decides to spend his time with you, his face is never close enough in view for you to decipher any real features of his. What color are his eyes? What does his nose look like? Is the diamond you remember on him even there? The basics of a face are in your memory, but you can never remember the more eunique traits of his. You… Don’t know why that is at all. It feels like you’re forgetting something from the first meeting you had with Cater, but your suspicions tell you it had something to do with his face.

- Even though he’s a ghost, it feels like he forgets something about that sometimes… It’s different from Riddle, who simply forgets he no longer has a physical body, it’s like he doesn’t remember he even died in the first place. You’ve seen him all alone, the sunny disposition he proposes to everyone is gone, a hollow feeling in his vicinity. You couldn’t hear it clearly, the only word heard at all being sisters.

- The moment he sees you it’s like he’s scrambling to change his disposition, walking up to you casually as he mentions how cute you look today, ahh you should take him shopping! He’ll be discreet don’t worry—

“Cater, how did you die?”

“Wha—? W-who cares about that, come on just take me to town kay’?” you do end up bringing him as he points at things he’ll never be able to use, commenting on how cute they would be to have and show off, even attempting to wrap his arm around your shoulder before laughing off at his arm phasing through your body and making your spine shiver.

You don’t miss the way his laugh is more forced than usual, and obvious distress at what happened. Why is he so upset he can’t touch you? Is there a reason he wants to so bad? For once, you wanna know.

“Cater, lets go on a date again.”

“I didn’t know you were so up-front…! But, if you’re asking then I just can’t say no can I?”

- Survival: Fear and Grievances, prays on victims through Possesion and death(?)

Trey Clover [ Frankenstein ]

- The sight of a giant, buff, green, adult man, hovering over you like a doting boyfriend as you bake is certainly a domestic sight to behold. Though it becomes less heartwarming when you remember this scientifically resurrected man is 8 feet tall, he can basically reach the top shelf when he’s kneeling.

- Just like the zombies of Heartslaybul, Trey can disassemble his limbs, but he has more control over it than the other two… You’ve had a fair share of moments where you’re trying to eat and a stitched up hand crawls towards you with a piece of cake., it’s sweet, but horrifying in the dark.

- He’s a glorified brick wall, if brick walls could also fight back at insane speeds. You watched him unintentionally scare off another Monster Hunter once, they weren't intimidated by his size at all, even attempting to throw a punch at him to show off. Their try immediately backfired as Trey stood unfazed, watching them run away cradling their hand. Before you can blink, Trey’s already towering over you asking if there was a pastry he should try making for you. Honestly… You need to tell Crowley to hire better employees.

- Trey has electrocuted you once. Totally unintentional on his part, but if someone asked him what he thought when he did it, he would tell them with a soft smile you look cute. Meanwhile, you’re on the other side of the room trying to make sure Trey doesn’t increase the voltage next time he tries holding you. Everytime he attempts to do just that, you’re quick to jump out the way. He’ll smile softly but he can’t deny he’s a little disheartened... Seems he’ll just have to rebuild that trust.

- Despite all the stitches on his body, unlike Riddle, there aren’t open wounds on his body, so he’s technically the only one who can accompany you without drawing too much attention. It’s a secret kept between the two of you, but whenever you head into the square, you both walk to as many bakeries as possible, tasting whatever you can afford. Whenever he put something in his mouth, he’d make an offhand comment about his family. You wonder… How did Trey even resurrect like this?

- Survival: Undocumented

Leona Kingscholar [ Beastman Mummy ]

- Warning: Capable of Magic.

- His skin is wrapped in so many bandages, all of them he can bend at his will. You’re curious as to what he looks like under the fabric, but one glare and the feeling of binds grappling around your body is enough for you to reconsider. That’s only if you attempt to look underneath, if not, he’ll sit in silence as you admire each carefully placed bind, cracking an eye open to watch you close in on him in curiosity.

- Watching him manipulate sand just to make places to sleep is entertaining, but being dragged into his timeframe of napping is surely not. The grip he has on you is ironclad as the two of you lay on the grainy bed, if you complain about sand getting into your clothes he’ll make a sly suggestion of “Just take off your clothes” before retreating into a slumber that you can’t shake him from. Even if you did decide to do that, how would you even take them off…? He won’t let go of you…!

- Despite being a former corpse, if he was still mortal, he’d essentially be an ultimate being. He’s super strong, fast, he’s quick at recovering, and even if you did cut off a limb of his he’d regrow in just half the time it took to get it off him. To make it worse he’s handsome, has an air of nonchalance, and a prince. You can just imagine the sound of Crewel and Rollo nagging at you for thinking such heinous things about a beast you’re meant to be killing.

- Whenever Leona controls the dead, you hide behind him. Not because you’re scared of his army, but because they remind you of Ace and Deuce, and you’d rather not see versions of themselves not heed danger whatsoever. You were half awake one time when he summoned corpses, your blurry eyes mistaking two of them for Deuce and Ace, wrapping your arms around their shoulders and pulling them into you. You only realize it’s not them when Leona grabs your from behind and hoists your body onto his shoulder like a sack.

“Wrong Zombies.” he makes an effort to have you sleep more before you accidentally kill yourself for such a small error.

- That little pain inducement ability he has? It sucks. It’s funny when he uses it to telepathically pinch Ruggie when he’s away. But, being reduced to a puddle of pure hurt and strain is the worst. Just watching Leona use it makes you remember… nevermind. Seeing his victims fall to their knees as he drains them of their life force is depressing, the burden of your defeat rearing its shame when he just knocks back and naps as their bodies turn to sand.

- Even when his tail wraps around your leg in a form of adoration, you can’t help but feel disdain for yourself remembering all those who are now dust on the ground because of him.

- Survival: Feeding off vitality

Ruggie Bucchi [ Werehyena ]

- Please tell Ruggie to stop tracking you with his senses and your stolen possessions, you’ve been scared too many times by him popping up out of nowhere. It’s even more horrifying in the night since his face looks so scary (His happy face looks the same as his hunting face. Don’t tell him though, he’ll rob you of your belongings in pettiness.)

- His eyes are so hypnotizing, both poetically and realistically. You’ve seen him mesmerize loving couples into handing over their belongings in his human form, only to revisit them later in the night to consume the rest of his steal. You asked him once what the point is in getting their stuff in the day only to kill them in the night, and he just smiles before softly placing a piece of bread on your lips.

You never take the bread from his hands, allowing him to feed you himself all the time, feeding you with the same hands stained with a bloody ending to a romance story. Maybe… it’ll get his pension for praying on lovers to soften, the thought of having his own might put his thoughts to bay… Who are you lying to that won’t happen, it’s how he lives, and how he will continue to live.

You know it won’t change when he’s desperately trying to hide the red stains under his nails.

- He’s very keen on being in your vicinity. No reason, you think, but he’s just always there, talking to you like normal. Which is weird, why does it feel so normal? The more you ponder it, maybe he’s more natural in your life cause of how equalized he is. He’s laidback yet cunning at the same time, not too good, but not too heinous (if you ignore his murders.) It’s a nice change of pace from people who see, to be heavily relent on one trait. Even though with a kinder personality feel weird… So, talking to Ruggie is a nice escape—

“Ruggie, did you take my wallet again?”

“How’d you think I paid for that bread? Shihihi— Augh! Ow okay I'm sorry—!” he makes it up to you by giving you his portion of food. You pretend to take it out of pettiness, but late at night when he’s sleep, you wrap it up and leave it on his bedside for when he goes hungry in the night.

When he does wake up, he knows who left the meal by his side, including the extras that lay next to it.

- Survival: Eating anything he can get his hands on

Jack Howl [ Human…? ]

- You always wondered how Jack got so built. Of course, if it’s from training, you would never undermine his efforts. But, his strength is so hardcore you doubt it’s even humanly possible. There had been a speech from Crowley in town you attended with both Jack and Rollo, all three of you booted to the very back. When you commented on how you couldn’t see, Rollo told you “We could always move forward—” But he’s cut off with shock when he watches Jack effortlessly carry you onto his shoulder, keeping you rested there for an hour straight without complaint, even shifting the way he holds you depending on what you wanted at the moment.

“We could’ve just gone up there, Jack… Now put them down…!”

“I don’t mind, They seem comfortable here anyway.” You can’t help but laugh at Rollo's overbearing nature, patting his head as you hold onto Jack.

- Hes never answered you before on when or how he joined the hunting organization, literally. He’s so silent when you ask, but the moment you switch to a different topic he’s chiming in his opinion like he didn’t just give you the silent treatment for 15 minutes. He told you he’d never lie to you, so, you guess he was telling the truth about that statement.

- Whenever Rollo is unavailable to you, Jack essentially works as his “replacement” according to Sam. You wouldn’t call him that though, Jack cares for you the same way Rollo does, but he’s a lot less… Restricted towards you. You can go out at midnight with him as long as you let him walk you back home, You can eat more junk food, and you can even go into the forest with him outside of a job! Rollo is oblivious to it, but there are moments where you might, just a tinsy weensy bit, prefer having Jack watch over you compared to him. You still love Rollo though! (Never say that to him directly, he will dissect what kinda of love it is you’re implying for him.)

- Overall, you can’t wait to see him again when you go to Savanaclaw! You’re curious as to why he hasn’t reached back to you after the 2 months he's been there though…

Azul Ashengrotto [ Slime Kraken ]

- Warning: Capable of Magic.

- His true form is huge, being bigger than the size of 5 pirate ships combined. When he shrinks himself though, he’s only 7 feet long and huge, rather than 50 feet long and huge! Less scary right? (it’s not, you’re just trying to delude yourself.)

- It’s more dangerous when considering the substance he’s made out of is multi-purpose, making him invisible, essentially unkillable, and extremely capable in offense. You’ve seen it first hand considering you’ve been on the receiving end of his malice once. If you have to admit it though, it’s a lot scarier watching him use his skills on unknowing sailors. You collect what remains of them, and set them to rest far away from the sea.

- During the night, you’re divided on whether or not he can be considered horrifying, or beautiful. The twins glow, but they're limited to their one-color pallets. Azuls body, channels the light from his surroundings, making him more than one color sometimes. It’s a bit saddening when you notice how insecure he is about the material of his body, even using magic to appear more human-like in his state. If you tell him he’s handsome in his regular slime state, he’ll flush in embarrassment. (If you go a step further and hug him as such a gross substance, goodness, he’s already looking through books at the bottom of the ocean about human courting. Never mind you’re still trying to kill him, he’ll slay your heart if he has to!)

- If he uses Magic, he, can turn himself into a human for a little. He never really had a reason to go on land, he’s powerful in the sea, even ranked as one of the 7 most wanted monsters. But, now that you’re in his life, he wants to follow you and see what it would be like to live with you as a person. He doesn’t call it a date, but he thinks of it as one, even imagines himself telling Jade and Floyd (Little does he know they already beat him to the punch on that one…). You take him by the hand and the urge to stay on land with you becomes even stronger. But, so does the need to have you in the ocean with him.

- His tentacles along with his crazy strength, just make him an even harder foe to fight. Truly… What are you meant to do when you’re sitting down and in his sleep, he just clings onto you with a tentacle, and now you just, can’t leave? Besides he’s asleep, how are they latching onto you so hard… They don't have a mind of their own— You remember seeing an article that wrote about such a phenomenon. Okay, so maybe they do act of their own volition… why do they cling so desperately to you?

- Survival: Eating as much of whatever is available

Jade Leech & Floyd Leech [ Skeleton Sea Serpents ]

- During your stay in their abode, you’d wake up to Floyd squeezing you so hard you swear one of the bones on his tail were gonna puncture you. He’s too strong, horrifically strong to the point you fear getting squeezed more than twice a day could genuinely kill you. If you don’t voice this concern, you might risk your death, but if you do, he’ll restrain himself a bit (he couldn’t bear the thought of killing his shrimpy! You’re too fun to play with, let him kiss those sore places better yeah? Besides, just a little biting doesn’t hurt)

- Their senses are so enhanced, it’s just as scary as their strength. You had sliced your hand once, a medium amount of blood pouring out, and before you could even do anything, Jade had swam up to you and latched onto your wrist, pulling you down, almost tugging you into the water, and began licking the wound clean, his eyes empty and his sharp teeth dragging across your skin. You thought he was miles away…?! How did he know you were bleeding…? When he’s done, he pats your hand and smiles before engaging in a casual conversation about your day, uncharacteristically gentlemanly after such a scary display. If you ask him what that was about, he’ll innocently tilt his head and ask you “whatever are you talking about?”

- Just like Azul, their true forms are giant, not as big as his, but still equally as terrifying, the sharp bones that poke out their body further proving this fact.

- Extremely Fast, You’ve seen this first hand when Floyd jumped out of the water and dragged you through the sea to transport you to a “beach date” in the middle of the ocean, in only 3 minutes…He heard of these dates from Azul, “Said he was gonna take you on one, thought it’d be funny if I took yah instead.” You’re unable to inquire what he means by “Azul trying to take you out”, as he’s brightly smiling when he places a sailor's cap on you. The small sight of blood in his canines is all you need to know about where this hat came from.

- Their teeth are sharp that’s for sure, you watched Jade sink his teeth into unsuspecting marine life. The thought of him doing the same to ships 7 times the size of such animals, makes you worried for future sailors, and… For yourself. He flaunts those ivories at you so much, you’re worried he’s trying to hint at his insatiable hunger. (He’s doesn’t bite like Floyd does, but honestly, you’d prefer if he bit you instead of grazing his teeth on your skin so sensually)

- They like to drag you into the water with them. You’re sure it’s how they have fun, the only exposure to the human world other than you is Azul and artifacts they collect from ships they were responsible for destroying. So of course, they wouldn’t know the first thing of human play, yet… you have the underlying feeling they have a reason for doing such a thing that isn’t just entertainment.

- Survival: Anything they can fit in their mouths (Whether it be marine life or ships. Though, these two have a specific craving for human)

Kalim Al-Asim [ Genie ]

- Extremely strong, every time he hugs you he completely forgets his strength. In the moments where he does realize it, he’s quick to apologize. If you tell him where you hurt, he’ll insist “kissing” it will make it better! It’s what worked on his siblings, so it must work for you! If you don’t tell him… he’ll cry, so it’s better to just tell him.

- Wishmaking. He insists on letting him give you a wish, after all, you did save him from being lonely! (You’re not sure if you could call it “saving” considering you were trying to kill him… and still are… ). You never accept his offer, with the knowledge that everything has a price, (Thank you Azul for such a good lesson learned) which makes him sad, but in your awkward ways of comfort, you tell him the only wish you want, is a hug. He is ecstatic and wraps his arms around you, tight. You’re regretting your wish now. Though, the glare from two pairs of slit eyes tells you you’re not the only one who doesn’t like the wish.

- Too many riches too count… You wake up, gifted in gold and jewels, you’re halfway through the day, more diamonds and rubies, going to sleep… Gold and emeralds. You told Kalim no more. He found a loophole and just replaced the cheaper items with more expensive ones. It’s technically not more so… You make a reminder to dump it all on Rollo, he’ll surely enjoy having money to tend to his garden. (He won’t. You already know he’ll refuse anything from a monster. But, if you bat your eyelashes enough he might accept it.)

“Kalim, I don’t need any more rubies.” You’re sat on his golden throne, the optimistic wish granter between your legs with his arms wrapped around your waist as he sits on the floor, a beaming smile making you hesitant on his next words.

“Then I’ll just give you more diamonds!” … Truly, you thought genies could only give out three wishes, why does it feel like this one wants to give you more than that… It’s gotten to the point where you think he wants only you to be the one he grants anything to, going so far as finding a way to bypass the rules. He even gave you his lamp, which you gave back to Jamil upon receiving it.

- You do wonder… Where are the rest of the people Kalims granted desires to? Even more so, the rest of the genies, as far as you’re concerned, Crowley said there was only one left (that he wanted to get his greedy hands on). If you had just searched Kalim and Jamils shared space, surely you would’ve found the corner filled with broken lamps in it.

Survival: Not sure, Either immortal or some secret to survival.

Jamil Viper [ Snake ]

- Warning: Capable of Magic.

- Half snake half man, his lithe body is enough to give you pause no matter how many times you see it, even after seeing the leeches who have a similar body. You think the reason might be more cause of his intimidating eyes rather than his actual body however, 2 sharp slits are enough to make anyone rethink their judgment.

- When he sleeps, he unknowingly wraps around you, his human half bunching you in his arms as if he isn’t squeezing your legs. You think it’s just his instincts using use as warmth considering he’s cold-blooded, so you let him (Little do you know he’s perfectly warm enough, his body is just drawn to you for some reason). When he wakes up, he considers poisoning himself from embarrassment.

- Venomus, the long pointed fangs could tell you that much. When he sheds a tooth after meeting you, he doesn’t toss it away like he used to, he finds a piece of string and slides it through the solid, letting you watch him in skepticism as he slithers towards you, gently placing the newly formed necklace in your palm as his forked tongue sticks out. (He also left a little venom trapped inside, in case anyone gets a little too close than wanted.)

- Don’t stare into his eyes to long, or else you’ll find yourself entranced by the slits in his pupils, and completely hypnotized without even his knowledge. It’s like he’s so enchanted by you that he forgets he can do something like that. When he realizes what he’s done, an hour goes by before you come to. You don’t feel any different, but one looks at your wrist adorned with a snake bracelet that wasn’t there before tells you something happened…

You can’t move it from its place, but you honestly don’t want to, it’s pretty. Works perfectly well in Jamil's favor, if you had, you definitely would’ve noticed the two holes punctured into your skin by a familiar set of fangs—

“Jamil, Kalim gave me his lamp again.”

“… Really?” He’s quick to take it off your hands. If only he could wish instead… it would make his life so much easier.

- Survival: Undocumented

Vil Schoenheit [ Incubus ]

- Warning: Capable of Magic.

- You’re human. You’re not immune to charm and flirtation. It’s disappointing that Vil is so good at what he does. You haven’t given into temptation, at least, not yet.

- Shapeshifting, he’s told you before if you have someone in mind you’d ever want to do such things with, he can transform into them if you hope to practice your confession, when you tell him nobody comes to mind, you fail to notice the devious smile that perches on his lips in victory. It seems the only face that will appear in your brain in such moments of vulnerability will be his, and that’s enough for him.

“Though, Since I used to see Neige almost every day maybe his? He has seen me in moments even Rollo hasn’t…”

What?

- Feasting on the vitality of humans is something commonly known for incubi, you’ve asked Vil before if you’re going to die soon from him touching you… You already know he’s an amazing actor so when he answers you, you can’t tell if he’s lying or if it’s the truth, especially when he takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips like a prince, perfectly playing off the suspicion in his answer.

- You think it’s unfair he’s so attractive, if he had only half his looks it would at least be easier to not stare at his pretty features— what are you thinking…?! You can already hear the scolding of everyone else telling you how heinous it is to think such thoughts, but once again, you're distracted by the feeling of Vil dipping into the couch next to you, offering a drink as if you two were just ordinary people. To be fair, his whole survival depends on how well he can interact with humans… He only smiles when you take the drink.

- Making Hallucinations is just common practice for Vil, Rook praising him for all the people who gave into his temptations from his feats. You were once sure he had never used it on you, you could never fall for such a puny delusion, but now, your confidence has faded. Things in your memory are blurry, unclear.

Has… Vil has been using it on you…?

- Survival: Corruption of humans through desire, feeding off vitality

Rook Hunt [ Boogeyman ]

- You make an extreme effort to avoid all manners of shadows since you’ve met him. Lurking in the dark is his forte, and it doesn't bode well for you because almost all your work is done in the dark. Even then… your efforts are in vain because you still feel the sensation of eyes burning into you at all times of the day. In these cases, you retreat to Vil in hopes he can rein him in a bit.

- Shapeshifting is a rare and dangerous ability. Unfortunately, Rook of all monsters has it. Even in places with no signs of shadows, it feels like he’s still there. It doesn’t make it any better that he hints towards that being the truth.

“Ah trickster, you looked magnifique in that bathing suit!”

“You were the waiter who kept offering me drinks weren’t you.”

“The way I observe my muse shall not be disclosed!”

- Watching Rook feast on fear isn’t scary, but rather… unsettling…? He places his mouth near his victim as what you can only assume to be their fear twists up into his throat, the horrified human trembling in terror. Such a scary expression quickly disappears when he turns to you with the happiest smile and gushes to the poor human about how wonderful you are, rubbing his cheek to yours like a sappy couple.

“Ah! Trickster…! You are quite sweaty! Shall I dry you off—” you shut him up by throwing the same towel he was about to clean you up with, in his face.

- His skill set is already horrifying, but adding in the basic ability of enhanced strength just makes it worse. You can’t even begin to count how many walls Rook has torn through for you… A simple ow, and what you originally thought to be a brick wall, is now a giant hole with the boogeyman at your call. It’s harder to be nice to him when he’s insistent that you train your capabilities on him. The amount of times Rook has turned a stab into a firm held waltz is just too many.

“Non non, You must hide your hand better trickster.”

“I would do that if you weren't cradling me into a dip right now Rook— Stop dancing with me already!”

- Survival: Fear and Grief

Epel Felimer [ Newbie Vampire ]

- He's asked you before if he could suck you dry. He honestly expected you to say no, but when you reached your arm out and told him to just not turn you, he was sure you must be some sort of blessing in disguise. When he’s done, he begs you not to tell Vil, as the incubus banned him from feeding. You’ll come to regret it at some point though, as now he continuously comes back to you in times of hunger.

- He runs at such fast speeds, it’s incredible to you, you’ve clapped for him a couple times, but, every-time you did… he got distracted and would trip. He wishes the sun would come up and kill him in those moments.

- Compulsion is a dangerous thing, you shouldn’t be shocked, but luckily for you, he… doesn’t seem to know how to use it the way it should be utilized. The moment he does finally master such an ability, you’ll have to find someway to get past that. He did try using it on you once, a simple command asking you to tell him how “manly” he is, somehow, someway, the command turned into something much more… embarrassing. He stands in bewilderment at the way your hands are cupping your face, endlessly praising Epel about how amazing he is, and how you wish to stay with him forever.

Vil and Rook stepped in to save you. He was sat in the corner as a punishment.

- His hunger is, insatiable. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen such a monster so bloodthirsty. It’s like he has some goal to just, feast on as many people as he can… He mistook you as a stranger he could freely feast on, jumping on you, ready to sink his fangs into your neck. He’s only narrowly stopped when the moon shines on your face and he knows it’s you. If it wasn’t, whoever took your place would not doubt be dead.

- Survival: Blood

Idia Shroud [ Reaper ]

- Warning: Capable of Magic.

- With how moody Idia is, you forget what his occupation is until he shows up at your door with the scythe he uses to escort the dead.

- Reapers aren’t necessarily evil or good, which is why you’re always conflicted about how to feel about Idia. Should you… Make your decisions based off his personality rather than what he is to slay him—? Why is he whispering about how all the other monsters should drop dead— Ah, he thinks they’re cooler than him.

- You essentially work as a discounted vent session as Idia talks about how everyone else is so much worthier than him to be slain by hunters. They all have cool abilities and cool looks, what is he stuck with? An edgy cloak and a tool farmers use to cut hay—

- His rant is cut short at the sound of a cheap board game slamming on the table, his eyes looking up to you placing a game piece on the spot, signaling him to take his turn as you tell him how he’s “the only one you find playing games with fun”. Truly, you must be one of the kindest souls he’s had the fortune of meeting, he should know, half of the spirits he escorts are huge douches.

- It just makes him all the more worried about bringing you to the after life.

- Even though Idia doesn’t have a reason to actively hurt humans, it’s still worrying when he describes to you in detail of his After life Capabilities. He once told you a story about how a guy was acting so high and mighty he trapped him in the space between life and death, only coming back to laugh at him when the man was practically broken. He only stops his retelling when he looks up and sees the most hurt expression on your face.

- After that, he sits up before you can even say anything, leaving immediately as he buries his head in his hands. The next day, he’s at your door as you silently stare at him, his form of retribution for your hurt being whatever you mentioned wanting during the week. You accept his gift, but that still doesn’t stop the fear of what Idia does to the souls he guides with a lack of fondness.

- Survival: Unable to Die. (Speculation)

Malleus Draconia [Dragon Gargoyle… And… something else?]

- Warning: Capable of Magic.

- Heavy durability, as he is pure stone. in times of desperation, you watch as green sparkles fly around the man as stone turns soft. His spell doesn’t last long but in his desire he chooses to pepper you in kisses with smooth lips. The first time he attempted to romantically place a peck on your arm, you cringed at the feeling of rough stone on your skin. It hurt his feelings so he opted to just spell himself instead.

- Heavy. He didn’t wanna move away from a doorway you had to exit through to leave. You tried lifting him out of the way, you don’t think you’ve ever tried so hard to move something before. He thought it was an attempt at a hug, so you ended up being smooshed in his arms for an hour before Lilia saved you.

- Camaflouge, the stone he’s made of, and moss that grows on his body can be manipulated in any way he wishes, even his size, it’s scary watching him go from his regular 6 feet to an astonishing 10. This trait of his has served numerous moments where you’re surveying his castle only to feel arms pulling you back into a stone exterior. Your reflexes are swift to throw a punch, only to have the cruel reminder of rock busting your hand.

“Ah forgive me, I did not mean to hurt you Child of hunters”

“My hand is broken Malleus.”

“We can just get you a new hand can we not?” That night serves as the first of having to tell Malleus he can’t always spell you when you’re injured. To this, he tells you that’s nonsense and he’ll expend all his reserves for you.

- Considering he’s also a Dragon, flight, and fire breathing really shouldn’t surprise you. What does surprise you is when he looked more dragon than gargoyle sometimes, his eyes becoming more lively, scales being more obvious, and his wings and horn being truer than they’ve ever been. You have a sneaking suspicion his instincts change forms too, his already heavy clinginess increasing tenfold. You’re either held by his clawed fingers or wrapped in his wing.

- Despite Malleus being marked as one of the most dangerous kills possible, you find it extremely easy to… ask him to do something. In fits of anger, he’ll cling impossibly close to you, trying desperately to attempt to cease the ugly feeling festering inside him. He’ll tell you he never wants you to leave his side. If you’re not feeling like being trapped inside, all you need to do is wrap your arms around his neck and lean into his ear with a low whisper, asking him to let you go. For a moment, his grip will tighten, but slowly he relents, his stone eyes watching you wave goodbye.

- Though, truthfully, You don’t feel like you’re free… Sometimes, you notice gargoyles in places where there shouldn’t be any. Sooner or later, his resolve might break, asking him for such freedoms might not be as easy.

- Not only that but… There’s definitely a side to him that isn’t just some Dragon Gargoyle. Whenever you have the chance to dig deeper into it, you’re met with a wall that separates you from the truth. Just what is Malleus?

- Survival: ???, Unable to Die. Do not attempt.

Lilia Vanrouge [ ??? ]

- Caution: Possibly capable of Magic.

- Certainly the most mysterious of the bunch… To be fair, everyone in the Diasmonia space is filled with anonymity. He doesn’t have any specific qualities that warrant a decisive conclusion, but you’re confident that he’s not a human. Sometimes he has wings, sometimes fangs, sometimes spider legs, just what is he?! (He has used this capability to scare you on numerous occasions, taking the form of a giant wasp and chasing you once. When he gets bored though, he clings onto you endlessly, not as bad as Malleus but still very often. You woke up to him in your bed once, and now he occasionally appears there to “wake you up” by sliding his arms around your waist. Please tell him you’ll only let him do this if he stops turning into freaky stuff…)

- You have no doubt he’s one of the monsters that eat humans. You took a sniff of his red juice once, it’s definitely blood, and considering why you’re here, it’s for sure not animal blood. Out of guilt for failing whatever human is his current meal, you offered up yourself as a blood bag, and he happily indulged, pining you to the table and nipping that delicious spot on your neck. Out of courtesy for everyone else in the castle... You lock the door.

But it doesn’t matter, you’re quite sure he didn’t honor the agreement anyway, as he’s happily feasting on a mystery meat you know isn’t any creature near this castle.

- He always keeps you on your toes, one of the moments being when he used his flight to carry you all over the sky, laughing at you and your body clinging onto him in fear of dropping to your death. It makes it worse that he doesn’t do it slow, he flies so fast you can hear the wind slicing through the air, your arms only wrapping around his neck trying to get even closer than you already are.

“Lilia…! Lilia! Put us down—! I’m gonna die…!” you can feel his hand pat your head as he tightens his grip on your body.

“Aww…don’t worry, as long as I’m here you won’t fall!” you believe him, but that doesn’t make you feel any safer at all…

- Despite how decrepit the Diasmonia castle is, there are still photos of its rein on the wall. In an attempt to know your targets better, you look at some of them, immediately recognizing Lilia in one of the frames… But, his aura seemed different, more cold, more cruel… He was bloodied, and you’re sure that body he’s holding is what you think it is, but, he doesn't have that usual crazy happy look he has when he catches his next meal.

-Just how did Lilia end up like this?

- Survival: Undocumented

Sebek Zigvolt [ Swamp Monster ]

- He says you’re pathetic. (He continues to leave flowers specific from his swamp at your door) You’re not… You’re not very sure what he thinks of you…? He says you’re a coward, yet continues to gift you plants after you offhandedly mentioned how you think they’re pretty. So… What does that mean…?

- Maybe they’re poisonous… Heh… Maybe you can use them on Crowley—

- Your plan of attack is interrupted as a booming voice bursts your ear drums, the source of distress being the green being covered in moss, water, and vines. You follow the trail of plants leading from the swamp to the creature behind you, a bear, wrapped in controlled swamp foliage by the monster of the water. Sebek huffs and chastises you for such carelessness, but the feeling of you scooping his hands into yours and thanking him with a smile makes the words on his tongue go numb. Not for too long though, as he tells you obviously a beast like him can handle such lowly creatures, no wonder you didn’t notice.

- Before you came along, according to Silver, the water he resides in used to be a mess, as he said “Lilia believes it to fit my role of Swamp Monster, so I shall keep it!” so he kept it the way it is and let it out control. But, apparently, after you, it subtly became neater, flowers adorning the ridges of where once was messed moss, his water adorned with petals of your favorite color, the place even smelling like your favorite scent. He tells you it’s just a change of scenery for Malleus, not anyone else, you only smile at him, not replying. Malleus doesn’t have the same favorite scent.

- Like his fondness for nature, his power of water is equally as tantalizing to watch. He didn’t know you were there, but you were watching him train, your eyes becoming more entranced in his movements when you saw him become sidetracked from his patience for a moment. A book was laid in front of him, one that he delved deeper and deeper into with interest. It seems he has a fondness for literature, so after that, you would leave books you had at his residence, watching with amusement at how fascinated he was. Unfortunately, you walked up to him once when he was meant to be training, and in attempt to hide his hobby, he flicked his hands and let the water swallow every page in aqua.

“I have been training this whole time human…!”

“Ah, I got you all those. Now they’re wet…” He acts like he doesn’t care, but he secretly feels bad, so discreetly, he attempts to piece every page lost in the water together before presenting you with a new book.

- Survival: Swamp

Silver [ ??? ]

- Honestly, his abilities are lighthearted when not used to a heavy extent. He can eat dreams of those who sleep, typically, nightmares. There have been rumors spreading of a night creature who creeps into rooms, sucking the ambitions and hopes of its victims… They’re not wrong, if he’s called upon too often he’ll strip the person of all their wants and, dreams. Go a step further, and he might as well suck the life out of a human.

- But… You know he doesn’t mean to… At least you hope not.

- Sometimes your judgment feels misplaced when you watch him go overboard in his hunger, his trance only capable of being broken when you grab him by the shoulder, maybe even point a blade at him in desperation.

- He can travel into dreams. You’ve caught him lurking in your conscious one too many times to count. It’s not like he’s devouring your fantasy, but you can’t help and wonder why he’s almost always there. He doesn’t change what’s happening in it, he doesn’t destroy it so… Why is he there so often?

- it’s ironic, a creature who lives off the manifestation of people’s conscious, sleeps so much. You remember sorting through flowers Sebek had “gifted” you, (You’re not sure if it counts as gifted considering he threw them at you saying “they’re frail, just like a weak human.”) and Silver had sat right next to you, begining a sentence before dropping his head into your lap, a deep slumber commencing on your thighs.

- He wakes up ready to apologize, but the feeling of your hands gently playing with his hair, is enough for him to fall back asleep immediately.

- He’s a lot more welcoming to stay with compared to the rest of the monstrous residents of Diasmonia. If you’re free from Malleus and Lilias's grasp, you’re quick to run over to him. He’s typically sleeping, so, when he’s nodding off you sit down next to him, slowly placing your head on his shoulder as you fall asleep. If you’re to be trapped here for a bit, it wouldn't hurt to have some form of comfort in this run-down place.

As you fall into slumber, you secretly wish to meet Silver in a dream again.

It’s coincidental that he wakes up the moment you place your head on him, it’s a pretty sight to him. He hopes… you’ll stay here, he enjoys your company too much. As soft snores leave you, his hands move on their own, grasping onto your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours.

It’s selfish, he was raised to do what he must to survive as a monster by his father. So he knows, what he feels is natural, but there’s a lingering thought he shouldn’t feel this heavy about a human… He doesn’t wanna let you go.

- Survival: Dream Feasting

Neige Leblanche [ Angel ]

- It’s… a bit unnerving how kind he is… You understand he’s a supposed Guardian Angel specially dedicated to your well but goodness, he was not very good at his job.

- He essentially watches you go about your day, occasionally blessing you to see your eyes light up with happiness.

- Despite how much he grooms the feathers on his back, he never lets you get too close to them, folding them back up when you’re near enough to see them more intricately or graze your fingers on them. It never bothered you, truly, he’s so nice to to you you could never be suspicious of him.

- He had to attend to personal matters once when you were eating together, his wings fluttering before he ascended. A pair of feathers had fallen in place of where he once was, One plumage was as white as snow, and the other…

- Was as dark as ebony.

- Survival: Being Good

Rollo Flamme [ Human ]

- He’s always been by your side.

- He would never be one of those wretched filthy beasts. He’s always cared for you when you couldn’t care for yourself.

- Don’t look at him like that. Why… Why is there scorn in your eyes…? He’d never hurt you, never.

- You’re the only sanctuary of purity in his life, he wants to embrace you. He always has, your happiness has always been his.

- He has always wanted to save you from the hellish life mother nature had dealt you.

So please…

- Let him hug the one thing he cares for one more time. And…

Forget the white lie he gave you.

- Survival: You

The day is today. The date you left Rollo without saying even the slightest hint of a farewell. It has been 364 days, without you.

It’s a sorrowing sight for coworkers of his who know how close you are. But, if they had just looked closer, the looming feeling of festering jealousy would no doubt impede their senses.

Rollo knows he can feel it. He will find a way to drag whatever wretched beasts are ruining you with their filth, down to hell.

“Ah! Mr.Flamme, Hello Hello—!” ringed fingers slam mercilessly into the wood of a desk, any harder and he might’ve broken it. “Be careful…! This desk is expensive…!”

“It’s been a year since [Name] left for these jobs… Why aren’t they back?” Rollos on the verge of bursting a vein, the only composure he has left is strung together by the thin thread of hope he has of you coming back, coming back to him.

“Well, My little Birdie is—”

“There is no My, and there is no Birdie, don’t call them that.”

“Possesive much…”

“It’s not posseviness.” Crowley only nods at him, obviously, he doesn’t believe the man, but he’ll pretend if it means moving this conversation along.

“I will answer your question in due time, now would you please… remind yourself why it is you’re here in the first place?”

———

A/n Did I do a shit ton of research about monsters and their abilities for this, a post that was meant to be a shitpost? No, who would do that? (I would). Anyways, I hope this can satisfy Monster!Twst enjoyers while I work on the heartslaybul chapter, I promise I’m working on it to make it the best possible! (Blame the economy for my lack of activity on it)

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yanderenightmare · 11 months ago

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♡ TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, yandere, captive reader, omegaverse, forced bonding is implied, subjugation, some type of sexism, soft dom, but extremely patronizing

♡ fem reader

You offer to go down on him for the first time since he claimed you for himself, and his heart swells with all sorts of bliss—shock and awe, love and pride—utterly overjoyed at the pretty sight of you, so pliant and on your knees, acting like a proper Omega for a change—his cutest little mate. It’s so adorable he ought to take pictures, yet he doesn’t want to miss a thing or spoil the mood—after all, you always get so embarrassed when he brings the camera out.

So he settles for just watching—his adoring eyes resting on you, admiring how you struggle to fit all of him inside your mouth, thinking it’s the just cutest and sweetest how you try so hard for him. Bless whatever brought this new change of behavior on. He can’t be grateful enough.

It was only a couple of days ago when you’d still bite and claw and run away from him at every turn, growling and snarling like a rabid wildling and not the sweet Omega he knew you could be with the proper love and care. Maybe it’s just that—has his love for you finally tamed you? Oh, he couldn’t be more pleased if that’s it.

Look at you… trying your very best. He didn’t mind if you could only fit half of him—just seeing you try to take it all made him more than happy. The way your pink tongue slides along his veins—all teasingly and ticklish—makes him smile while looking down at you. Petting your head in smooth, encouraging strokes—reminding you to breathe every now and again.

He even pinches your cheek when you cough, crooning, “Careful now, there’s no need to rush, baby—take it slow.”

You curse him from where you kneel at his feet, trying to get it over with quickly. Despite your struggles, he seems pleased, and you think you might have managed to get yourself off the hook. That is… until he wraps his cock with one of his big hands and pulls it away from you.

“I think that’s enough for now,” he says in his best attempt at sounding suave by nature, and yet, as you look up at him, you see it plain as day.

It makes your guts fold—the eagerness that encompasses him as he looks down at you with kind eyes and a smile—not completely able to hide the frenzy behind it.

No, please, you sulk inwardly—your clit is so sensitive from yesterday, you think you might die if he toys with it again today. You almost indulge the urge to scoot back, attempt to crawl away, and hide in false hope. But you know, chasing you around would just serve as kindling to his inner animal—he would take it as a game, hunting and pinning you down only to lick you clean like a dug-up bone.

You shudder at the thought and almost beg him to allow you to continue, almost insist you can do better, but all you manage is to bite your tongue and cry instead.

“You did so good, baby, don’t pout,” he coos, cradling your face and lifting it up to let him kiss it silly—chastely yet excessively—quick pecks all over, the same way you’d kiss something that’s just too cute for its own good.

It’s his way of comforting you, you suppose, or it might just be him poking fun. You can never really tell with him—if his coddling is all some act or something even more unsettling. But you suppose it doesn’t really matter either.

“Come here, baby, and I’ll do the rest, okay?” he asks, and yet it isn’t a question as he hauls you up off the floor and repositions you as he sees fit—on your back, belly-up beneath him.

His alpha pheromones are quick to overwhelm you, thick and suffocating, pouring over you in waves, drenching you in sweat and something else—something that makes everything sensitive.

The former fight you had when you were still independent has all but left you completely—siphoned from your being every day that’s passed and left you soft like the rest of those Omegas you vowed you’d never become—weak-willed with a body even more so. You feel like a stuffed animal at this point, full of cloudy cotton with a broken voice device that only knows how to squeak when played with.

He takes you beneath the knees and folds them down neatly by your head—one large hand taking both your summoned ankles in a single grip—and you’re locked in, unable to do much else other than pant—kept from breathing too much by the weight of your own thighs pressing down on you.

This had been what you were trying to avoid—this awful position which he seems to love just as much as you dread.

He whistles in awe at the pretty sight of you—all squished beneath him like that—face flushed, and your bloated lips parted with cute little draws of breath—tits bunched together, glossed in a sheen of sweat and heaving with the labored rise and fall of your chest—and that adorable cunt, wet and puffy, swollen up like a pink pillow eagerly waiting for him, a soft bed for his cock and a perfectly bite-sized slice of his favorite cake. His gut rumbles, and his mouth soaks. To think he hasn’t had a single taste all day—he’s beyond starving.

You squirm under him, and he chuckles again, this time breathily—showing more of the unsightly animal with the low growl that seeps into his voice, “Such a pretty girl…” It’s unclear if he’s talking to you as his inkwell eyes are set on something else. He sags forward, back hunched as he bows down to face the object of his desire with only a hair’s breadth of separation—breaths thick, puffed hot against you—canines bared in an eerie smile. “So shy…”

He ignores your wiggling completely—pinching the chunk of cunt where your clit hides, making it peak forth like a little button to press, and his grin broadens.

“There it is,” he licks his teeth with a raspy sigh—eyes wide and deadset. “My beauty.”

You squirm a little more, even though you know you’re not going anywhere until he’s satisfied. He doesn’t waste much more time—not allowing you to prepare. Keeping the pinch, he opens his mouth wide and takes the chub with eyes closed, tongue flattened and wide, cloaking your exposed clit with thirst. “Mmgh…”

He always gets like this—cute-aggressive and pussy-whipped. It’s as if he and your cunt have their own private affair, the way he completely ignores you. No, that’s not entirely fair—he gets like that when feeding you his tongue as well, but you suppose it’s easier making out with your pussy as it doesn’t need to get up for air.

Neither does he, it seems.

He groans loudly and releases your clit from his pinching grip—but keeps his whole mouth on you—lips, tongue, and all—nose and chin too, buried there while his hand moves down to slip three digits inside, filling you up with little regard to the stretch.

Your breath flares and shudders with a whimpery moan, toes curling along with his fingers, biting your lip at how he hooks them right into the soft spot of your gummy walls, then fingerbangs you fast, right down to the knuckles each time.

“Fuck, baby—so, so good, always so good,” he slurs out into you, tongue otherwise too engaged to bother sounding coherent, yet you understand nonetheless, even though you can never really get used to it—how utterly unashamed he is. “Come on, baby, cum f’mo—cum on my face—” he all but happily begs, tongue out, slurping your slit brazenly.

He’s not a very classic Alpha—how he worships you on his hands and knees with a throat full of plead and praise. He doesn’t even touch himself—cock left hung and bobbing against the bedsheets, hard and strung up with a net of veins, pilling pearls of pre that all go to waste—too busy with you.

It’s stupid how you’re the one who ends up feeling ignored as the unwanted and overwhelming pleasure manhandles you into submission.

“Cum, baby, give it to me.”

You mewl as his tongue draws something out from within you, making your clit blare and thrum with your heartbeat. You struggle to enjoy it, you always do, feeling forced to surrender, and yet the more you try and deny it, the firmer his hold gets, relentless as he sends you right over the edge. You yelp and seize up once it takes you—clenching tightly around his digits as they unknot your insides, turning you into utter putty in his palm.

And even then, he doesn’t stop—as if he doesn’t know how—sighing with elation as you quake on his tongue. That crooked smile on his face, nothing short of predatory and vile as he maintains the motion of his fingers, moaning in turn at your cute spasming and all the wordless babble that leaves your lips as you shake your head, crying for him to leave it alone. “Plea’ no more—stop, too much—”

He just chuckles against you—you really are too cute for your own good. Silly little Omega, don’t you know what your pheromones do to him? But okay, fine, since you asked nicely. He gives the slit one last thorough lick before wiping his smile while sitting up.

You haven’t even started coming down when he dabs the weight of his shaft upon the sensitivity, cooing at the lewd little plaps it makes, all slick as he slides the length between your flustered pussylips—fucking through the fat of the mound, running over your full clit, again and again, while listening to you squeak more nothings.

He only croons, “Yeah, I know you like that, baby—this pretty pussy of yours just loves my attention, doesn’t it?" His eyes seem to glow with something sickly, his voice thin, just shy of unhinged. "Always so cute, I could die.”

He can’t get over it—you’re too adorable like this. Watching you pleasure him was a welcome surprise, but ultimately, this is how he always wants you—flipped and pinned with your cunt exposed to his every wish—his favorite toy that never disappoints.

“Your pretty pussy’s always such a crybaby, y’know that? Look how it weeps f’mo—so needy to get stuffed. I bet you want my knot, huh?” he keeps mumbling while using his cock to play with your overworked cunt without yet entering it. “Alright, baby—don’t worry—I’ll give it to you,” he rasps, drooling.

You can’t keep from whimpering when the bed jostles, accounting for his repositioning as he moves to mount you with his feet planted down flat on the bed. Your ankles are pinned passed your head at this point, tipping your cunt up higher than your head.

“Yeah—I’ll give you what you want.” His voice darkens, and so does the look in his eyes—soaked in something you don’t like—something wild and downright terrifying. “And I’ll give it to you good.”

You almost protest, but you know there’s no getting through to him—not with that expression. You hate Alphas, you hate him, and you really hate this awful pose—this mating-press pile-driving overkill where he always bullies into the backroom of your cunt, insisting on fucking your cervix as he digs his cockhead right at the mouth of your womb, knotting you and filling you up with the full worth of his load. It never fails to make you feel utterly wrecked and bedridden in the morning.

But he doesn’t care about that. You have no places you’re supposed to be anyway—nowhere aside from right here, in his bed, where you belong—his sweet Omega bride who’s going to give him lots of pups.

He lines himself up, pressing his head past the ring—watching it swallow around him and biting his lip at the sight. “Look at it, baby—look as I stuff that perfect pussy all the way up—”

He sinks in slowly, revering your cunt for every inch you receive—watching it in awe as it takes the entirety of his length right down to the base. It’s like a magic trick how it all disappears—you’re so tiny, and yet you’re built for this, to take every part of him in, hugging his shaft with velvet heat, milking him as he kneads the spot inside you that always makes you cry out so good for him.

“Yes, baby—that’s my girl—take it all,” he coos, all but sitting on your ass with his cock down your cunt. “It’s like your pussy’s made for me, isn’t it? Perfectly tight, perfectly deep, perfectly wet and chunky to feel like I’m fucking heaven itself—”

You feel no different from a toy when he does this—a squeaky toy manufactured for a Chihuahua puppy, yet mistakenly given to a full-grown Rottweiler. He straight dogs your cunt through several peaks—so soaked now that it fossettes down both the slope of your belly and the cliff of your spine. And still, he keeps going, rambling on like usual—all words that fail to reach you.

You’re so lightheaded you’re on the brink of passing out—overheating and out of strength, numb and tingly, beyond happy when you finally feel his knot swell within, propping you to take his seed.

He keels over—his thighs pressed down tightly atop yours—panting above you—eyes half-mast and glazed, almost crying in bliss while feeding you his cum, knowing it's flooding your womb, breeding you full of warmth and love.

“Yes, every drop, baby—it’s all yours.” He keeps a thumb rubbing over your clit as he croons. Voice beyond lovesick, “Let’s make too many pups to count.”

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks, Natsuo, Mirio ♡ JJK – Gojo, Geto ♡ HQ – Kuro, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Nagi, Bachira ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Umemiya, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

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orimuraa · 2 months ago

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• I could be the rest of your life or whatever - 西村力 ↳ ┊: handlebars (feat. dua lipa) - jennie

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆nishimura riki was known as the school’s bad boy, but somehow, he managed to get his heart stolen by you—the school’s nerdy sunshine ⨾

۶ৎ bad boy!ni-ki x fem nerd!reader┆fluff┆cursing, petnames, one kiss┆wc 952

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: thank you to the @nodoubtily for requesting this! i love the idea of explaining how they met and how their relationship bloomed ^^ i hope you enjoyed!!

part 1

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

the first time you ever ran into ni-ki was in freshman year. you were all getting used to high school and the new environment. as usual, you were off in the library studying, not having anything better to do in your time.

that’s when he walked in. clad in a black sweatshirt and some grey, baggy jeans, he was so pretty. he gave off a serious “don’t talk to me or i’ll fuck you up” vibe, but you couldn’t help but watch as he navigated his way over to the studying tables where you sat.

you tried to focus on your work—you really tried—but he was too distracting! his pretty moles that scattered his gorgeous face, his duck like lips, and his dark and mysterious eyes that were focused on the paper below him.

you were about to introduce yourself when he stopped you.

“if you’re about to speak, i request that you don’t. i don’t have time for shit like this,” he said curtly, not even sparing a glance.

that made your lips seal with shock. this guy was nothing but a jerk yet for some reason, you wanted to know more about the mysterious pretty guy.

so you did. the next few months were spent with you running around the school to be with him, practically forcing him to be your friend.

at first, he cursed you out for following him, saying he didn’t need a new friend.

“god, piss off! i don’t need a fucking fan club,” he growled, but it didn’t faze you.

you continued to stay right by his side whether he wanted it or not, slowly learning new things about him.

you learned that he had two sisters and that he was actually from japan, making you swoon for him even more.

it wasn’t until one day (the only day in the whole year that you were absent), ni-ki realized that he actually enjoyed your company and relentless nagging.

he had no idea where you were and it worried him that you were in danger. he also missed the way you would appear when his classes finished (despite him never actually showing up to them) and the way you would chat his ear off about certain things.

he kinda just accepted it and let you stay by his side. you two would walk through the halls as you chatted about something that was going on in your life while greeting your fellow classmates. he admired your social ability and it definitely made his heart flutter seeing your adorable smile. you had done something to his heart and for the first time, ni-ki wasn’t scared of the feeling.

so when you showed up the next day, looking exhausted yet still so radiant, ni-ki tried not to make his panic visible.

“where were you?” he mumbled, wanting to stay nonchalant but also not being able to hide his concern.

“sorry…i was sick for the weekend,” you frowned at the tall boy, your voice still not fully recovered.

“don’t apologize. there’s nothing to apologize for. just…i’m glad you’re better,” he said shyly, the tips of his ears getting red.

“thanks,” you smile, choosing not to tease him.

you both walked in your usual way, you chatting his ear off despite your sore throat, but this time, ni-ki actually conversed back. he only chimed in small comments, but they were enough to keep the smile on your face.

you were shocked when you saw that ni-ki was the one waiting for you after class instead of you going to wait for him. he had your favorite drink in hand and the smallest smile on his plump lips, yet you still noticed.

“hi ki,” you smile softly, the nickname slipping out.

“ki? hmm, i like it,” he chuckles, ruffling your hair to which you scowl at. “maybe i’ll have to make a nickname for you..or can i just call you mine?” he smirks slyly, making your heart stop for a second.

“i- you’re crazy!” you shake your head, trying to avoid eye contact. you scurry ahead, trying to get out of the building for some fresh hair, ni-ki smirking with pride as he followed after you.

the breath of fresh air was amazing as you started to feel extremely hot confined in the building with ni-ki. as you stopped in your tracks, your heard ni-ki stop as well.

“better, princess?” he asked, that smug look still on his face. you blushed again, but you didn’t say anything.

“listen, i uhh…i’m not the best with words but i just wanted to say that i think i like you…no- i know i like you. i like everything about you and i didn’t realize i could feel this deeply about someone,” ni-ki says, his voice laced with hesitation and anxiousness.

“then my plan worked!” you laugh. “i’ve been waiting to get close to you all these weeks! i’m glad it worked then,” you smile at him.

“wait- that was your plan the whole time??” he questions, raising an eyebrow at you.

“well…i just wanted to get to know you better,” you say shyly, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

“then can i be your boyfriend?” ni-ki asks, a new found softness in his tone.

“yes, 100 times yes !!” you exclaim, going up on your tippy toes to throw your arms around his neck, hugging him close.

“thank you for giving me a chance baby,” he mumbles in your ear, pressing a soft kiss against your temple.

“well now you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life!” you giggle, nuzzling your face into his neck.

“and i would let you stay by my side forever if it meant you stayed right here, in my arms.”

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𝐉𝐢𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy, @hyukabean, @annybah, @ijustwannareadstuff20, @chaeneu, @17ericas, @firstclassjaylee, @riribelle, @right-person-wrong-time, @cheruphic, @woniefication, @melodiessvy, @soona-huh, @kiwicup, @yuuuraaa

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lqveharrington · 6 months ago

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Family Tree | D.M.

summary: Eleven years after the second wizarding war, you find yourself making lifelong decisions on platform 9¾ once more.

pairing: ex!draco malfoy x fem!reader

includes: a LONG fic, daughter’s name is melody, talks about the war, abandonment, pregnancy, implied sex, cursing, hufflepuff slander (i’m a hufflepuff, i’m sorry), Pansy being a fun aunt & friend, teddy lupin mention being the coolest second cousin, melody is a mischievous child, teddy doesn’t like his god father, cursing, mainly angst with some fluff

a/n: i love him, your honor (he was truly my first love) this took way longer than i thought it would, so sorry 🙏

Years after you fought alongside Harry Potter to defend Hogwarts and the rest of the Wizarding World from Voldemort’s wrath, you found yourself packing trunks for Hogwarts once more. However, the trunks you packed were no longer yours. They contained unhoused robes and new textbooks that weren’t marked with your doodles and annotations. The pet carrier didn’t hold your own owl, but instead your daughter’s snowy owl.

Eleven years old. It was finally time for your daughter to attend Hogwarts.

The entire morning — the entire week — she would go on about finally being able to learn the spells and charms that protected the witches and wizards from evil. Just like you.

When you held her hand tightly to enter platform 9¾, she would continue to talk about seeing all the ghosts and paintings that were mentioned in all your stories. Of course, you never told her all the adventures you endured. She didn’t need to know where the Room of Requirements was.

“—And Moaning Myrtle! Is she as annoying as you said she was? I hope she isn’t. I want to ask her so many questions about you—“

“Melody, my love, you can’t bother the ghosts all the time. Hogwarts is a school.” You run your fingers through her platinum blonde hair and smile playfully when she scrunched her nose at you. You dusted off her shoulders and tilted your head, “What?”

“But it’s a magical school, mum. Shouldn’t I be able to ask questions if I have any?” She challenged you with a raised brow, pushing your hand away and adjusting her perfect hair — much like her father. She always wanted to be absolutely flawless, even when presented in front of you.

Your heart clenched at how similar Melody was to her father. Her smile and her mannerisms were all the same. It felt like you were eleven again and meeting him for the first time. The only difference between him and Melody was her eyes. She was born with your eyes — the ones filled with so much emotion with every single look.

Glancing down at your watch, you sighed and cocked your head to the side, fixating your gaze on the train that once took you to a place where you found everything and everyone you loved. Where you found him.

“Don’t miss me too much. I’ll be back every chance I get.” Melody took your hand in hers and squeezed, noticing your far off look. Her thumb traced the silver ring you wore on your left hand. She never knew what the M stood for on your ring — she always assumed it was for her name.

“I promise I’ll send an owl every week.”

“I know you will.” You pressed a kiss to the top of her head before your eyes caught a book being dropped by a young boy — who looked an awful lot like Tonks and Remus. Shaking your head, you bent to pick the book up and handed it to your daughter. “Can you quickly run and hand this to that young man? But come straight back. I want to properly say goodbye before you leave me forever.”

Melody rolled her eyes at your antics, but nothing could hide the smile that came with it. She made swift steps over to the boy before he boarded the train, eyes widening curiously when he faced her. The boy’s hair turned a bright pink as he thanked her, a sheepish smile gracing his lips.

“Are you a Metamorphmagus?” Melody whispered in excitement and watched his hair turned an electric blue. Her grin widened, recalling what you told her a while ago. “My mum says my aunt was one!”

The boy finally took a good look at Melody, a light bulb going off in his head when he realized who he was talking to. He recognized her the Black Family tree back at 12 Grimmauld Place. He opened his mouth to ask her who she was when his friends pulled him into the train without a single glance to whoever he was talking to.

Melody furrowed her brows in confusion before huffing, perfectly styled hair whipping behind her as she left to find you before boarding the express herself. She thought all Hufflepuffs were supposed to be sweet, but these Hufflepuffs seemed to ignore her like she was nothing but an itty bitty fairy.

She hoped she wasn’t put into Hufflepuff.

“My mum was one of the hero’s at Hogwarts.” She muttered to herself and — once again — flicked a piece of her blonde hair behind her shoulder, narrowly avoiding a collision of trolleys to her left. “I’ll tell her all about this.”

Melody made a quick turn to where she last left you before slamming into someone, nearly toppling over from the sheer force. She caught the person’s arm and yanked herself back before she could fall on her arse, mentally cursing herself for not looking at her surroundings.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She muttered and dusted herself off from invisible dust, looking up at the person only to find a man staring at her with a shocked expression. Was he really that offended by it? He was an adult and she was merely eleven.

The man blinked before shaking his head, schooling his shocked expression to one of nonchalance instead. He looked around and tilted his head at the girl standing in front of him, examining her face like she was someone he recognized before. This girl reminded him of someone he used to know. Someone he used to love dearly.

Melody pursed her lips and rocked on the heel of her Mary Jane’s, avoiding his gaze. She wasn’t exactly uncomfortable with his staring, but she wasn’t comfortable either. Just as Melody was about to excuse herself from the man, she heard your familiar voice ring out, making her visibly relax despite your tone.

“Where were you? I told you to come straight back.” You rushed over to her and ran your fingers through her hair once more, unaware of your surroundings. You were so worried she had left before saying goodbye and it absolutely haunted you.

She looked back at the blonde man behind you for a split second before tilting her head down to the floor. Melody knew that you were waiting for an answer — she just had to suck up the embarrassment.

“I was coming to find you when I knocked into that man.” She gestured behind you and held back a whine when you tilted her head to check her for any cuts and bruises.

Melody made eye contact with the same person she knocked into again and hid her face in your jumper, hating that all the attention kept going back to her. She felt scrutinized under his gaze.

“Mum.”

You sigh softly and turn your attention to the man, still carding your fingers through Melody’s hair. You kept your eyes trained on her until she relaxed, finally looking up to meet the said person when years of memories hit you like a freight train.

“I’m so sorry about Melody. She usually isn’t this distracted — Draco?”

Your throat closed up at the sight of him — Draco Malfoy.

It was your Draco. The one who promised to love you his entire life; the one who promised to never leave your side; the one who left you alone with nothing but a broken heart and an unborn daughter.

Draco swallowed thickly and looked away. He felt horrible leaving you alone all these years, but he couldn’t figure out how to explain to you why he left so abruptly. Especially when you were about to drop your daughter — his daughter — off to Hogwarts.

Everything felt so overwhelming for the small family.

The whistling of the Hogwarts' Express immediately caught Melody's ears, her eyes widening at how little time she had left with you before departing for the next few months until holiday.

“Mum, the express is going to leave soon.” Melody’s voice snapped you out of your stupor, her small hand squeezing your ringed hand — which didn’t escape Draco’s gaze.

You cupped her face with both hands, kissing her forehead. This would be the first time you would be away from her for so long and you didn’t know if you could handle the separation.

“When you have time, send me an owl right away. Include your house in the parchment, alright? Be safe and make smart decisions.“ You instructed.

“I will.” She locked a pinky around yours before wrapping her arms around your neck, breathing in your familiar scent one last time. “I love you, mum.”

“I love you too, my sweet girl.” You held her tightly and made the horrible mistake of meeting Draco’s eyes. You looked away faster than he could mark the emotion in your eyes. “Now get on that train before it leaves without you.”

Melody ran on the train and found a compartment occupied by a couple of other first years, smiling when you waved to her as the Hogwarts’ Express left platform 9¾.

“You didn’t tell me you were pregnant.” Draco spoke and pushed his hair back — the initial shock finally settling in his chest.

You sigh and turn to face him, arms crossed over your chest. Although it had been years, the warmth from his gaze still filled you and you hated it. You hated that all the love you had for him was still stored away.

“Why are you here, Draco?”

He narrowed his eyes at your deflection but answered truthfully. He might as well begin with the truth before anything else.

“I’m the auror assigned to protect the wizards and witches at this platform.” Draco responded before glancing at his watch, frowning at the time it read back. “I’ll be back—“

You put your hand up and stopped his excuses, shaking your head and frowning. Pulling out your own wand, you pointed it at his chest and glared. You would never let yourself be fooled twice.

“That’s what you’re good at doing, Draco.” You tapped your wand on his chest, your heart screaming to stop but your mind blocked out every emotion you felt for him besides pure rage. “You’re good at leaving. That’s all I know about you, and that’s all Melody will ever know about her father.”

Draco’s hands clenched by his sides but made no effort to stop you. He could tell — your eyes betraying your every emotion — that you needed to reprimand him. He could see the way you wanted to scream and shout everything you kept bottled in your mind. Every single memory you had with him building up, ready to explode with any wrong move.

“Love—“

“You have no right.” You whisper at the nickname and shake your head at him, apparating away.

Melody watched in trepidation as first years were sorted into a house after Professor McGonagall read off their names from a long roll of parchment. Each and every one of them grinning brightly at the rest of the student body when the Sorting Hat screamed their respective houses out. Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long to be sorted.

After all, her mother blessed her with a last name that wouldn’t take ages to be called up.

“Bellemont, Melody!”

She beamed at the professors as she made her up onto the wooden stool, flicking a stray lock of blonde hair behind her shoulder as the Sorting Hat was placed upon her head. Melody wasn’t sure what to expect when the hat fell, but she knew she would rather move to America than be sorted in Hufflepuff like that group of boys she met at the station. They were all rude except for the Metamorphmagus she held an actual conversation with.

“A Malfoy who isn’t a Malfoy.” The Sorting Hat murmured to itself — and knowingly — Melody. “Clearly, you haven’t been raised with the pureblooded status quo. Perhaps your mother’s doing… But you have your father’s confidence and pride…”

Melody’s face twisted in confusion at the hat’s words. Who was Malfoy? Was that her father? Maybe her grandmother’s previous last name? She didn’t understand the hat, and as if it read her mind — which it could — clarified for the young witch.

“Your father was a broken soul.” The hat tutted and swished around her head like it was revisiting old memories of her parents. “Your mother wormed her way into his heart until she mended him.”

She blinked and looked over at McGonagall, who merely smiled at her. Melody pursed her lips and looked out into the crowd, hoping to find any kind of familiar face. Unfortunately, all her aunts and uncles decided to have children only a few years ago.

Melody frowned as the hat continued to make random comments about her parents, ultimately boring her from the ceremony. She wasn’t sure what the hat was going on about you and her father, but she was sure to send an owl to you soon.

“Nevertheless, your father and mother were in the same house.” The Sorting Hat commented before shouting its decision for everyone in the Great Hall to hear. “SLYTHERIN!”

Melody gave the applauding hall a tight-lipped smile as she walked over to the Slytherin table, finding an empty seat beside an enthusiastic prefect. She was ecstatic to be in the same house as her mother, of course, but now only one thing circled her mind. She didn’t feel the need to ever know about this before. You were all she ever needed. Yet the Sorting Hat planted something in her head, and she wanted to get to the bottom of it.

Who was her father? And who is Malfoy?

“I’ve been getting the same question back from Melody in every single letter. This is starting to get ridiculous.” You throw the recent letter you received from Melody on the kitchen counter, rubbing your face in frustration. “What the hell happened at Hogwarts for her to suddenly be interested in who her father is?”

On a normal day, Melody would never pester you about who her father was. Now, it felt like you got a letter everyday about who her father was. You weren’t sure what the best move was. Either way you went, everything would change drastically.

Pansy shrugged and read the letter, raising her brows at the perfect cursive that could rival Draco’s. “Maybe it’s time you should tell her. It’s been eleven years, and she’s old enough to know about him.“

You spun the stupid Malfoy ring on your finger and huffed. “It’s not about how old she is. I just don’t want her to know that Draco essentially abandoned her. Granted, he left before I could even tell him.” You glared at the silver ring. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t pull the piece of jewelry off. “Besides, she already met Draco. It’ll complicate the entire situation if I try to explain it now.”

“Wait — when did Melody meet Draco?” She furrowed her brows and sat up at the new information. Pansy squinted at your expression before gasping, nearly jumping out of her chair at the realization. “At the platform?”

“Yes.” You groan and bury your head in your hands. Even if you did want Melody to know about her father at some point, you didn’t want it to be like that. She doesn’t deserve such an abrupt change right before she hopped on the express for Hogwarts. “Melody bumped into him trying to find me.”

Pansy sighed and took your hands in hers, watching your reaction very closely. “It’s better that you tell her about Draco rather than someone else tell her. I don’t doubt you’ll make the right call about all of this, but please tell her sooner rather than later.” Pansy squeezed your hands and sent you a small smile.

You bit your bottom lip and glanced toward the moving photograph you hung on the wall. It was a picture of you, Pansy, and Blaise right before Draco’s final quidditch game. You were laughing at something Blaise said, but the photo only played that far into the memory before resetting.

Pansy caught your gaze and waved her wand over to the frame, changing the length of the moving photograph. Instead of you laughing at something Blaise said, you were pulling an unamused Draco to sit beside you for the photo.

Your heart clenched at the sight, finally giving into your daughter’s pleads.

“I’ll tell Melody when she comes home for the holidays. I don’t want her to find out via owl.” You sigh and wave your hand toward the photograph, setting it back to the way it was originally.

The photo was taunting you to look back over, but your fragile heart couldn’t take it anymore.

You could always tell yourself you wanted nothing to do with Draco, but everyone knew that you would run back if you found the perfect reason to. Maybe Melody was your perfect reason.

“Melody, wait!”

The girl turned to the sound of her name — blonde locks flawlessly following through — and her arms tightened around the textbooks she held. Out of all the people at Hogwarts, she least expected to see the boy from the train station jogging toward her. She looked behind him for his friends — if you could even call them friends — but it was just the boy. The Metamorphmagus boy.

“Yes?” She tilted her head and creased her eyebrows when his hair turned a horrid shade of green. The color made her feel uneasy, forcing her to wait until it faded back to its original state to speak. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know your — er — name.”

The boy blinked before sticking his hand out, shaking her hand profusely. “I’m Teddy Lupin. I’m so sorry about my friends back on the express months ago. They found an unoccupied compartment and wanted to claim it before someone else took it.”

Melody slowly nodded and glanced at her leather watch, frowning when she realized she was already seconds late to a study session with a couple of first years she befriended. She pursed her lips and gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Was that all you needed me for? I need to study for a charms exam.”

“Well — uhm — I don’t want you to not study, but I wanted to ask you if this was you. If it’s not, it looks scarily like you and has the exact same name. Except the last name matches my uncle’s — “

Melody barely processed the rest of his rambling as Teddy pulled out a photograph of a wall she couldn’t recognize. There were bits and pieces of the wall that were burnt and faces that were skeletons rather than perfectly painted — perfectly detailed — faces. It seemed like the wall went on forever until she glanced at the very bottom right.

Melody’s breath lodged in her throat as she read the last name painted beside her legal first name. Her eyes followed the family tree branch up to find — not her mother — but her father’s face painted on the wall. Although your face wasn’t painted, your name was still written underneath one—

“Draco Malfoy.” She whispered and looked up at Teddy with a shocked expression, hands gripping the photograph in confusion.

There was the last name the Sorting Hat kept muttering.

It was the same man she met at the platform months ago. The color of his hair — and the way you acted around him — should’ve been a dead giveaway that he was indeed her father. Melody shook her head and gave Teddy back the photo, determined to understand why you chose to hide this from her for so long.

“You wouldn’t mind helping me figure the rest of this out, would you?”

The wind breezing through platform 9¾ from the Hogwarts’ Express sent your hair flying through the air and your arms tightening around yourself. You were picking Melody up for the holidays and made the awful decision to not bring a stupid coat — thinking you could get out within minutes.

Silently cursing from how cold it was, you watch the students stream out of the train until you saw the platinum blonde hair you knew belonged to your daughter. Instantly, her eyes met yours and she ran. She ran until she knocked herself into your arms, nearly toppling the both of you over.

“Hi, mum.” She murmured into your neck and pulled herself impossibly closer. She tucked her chin in your shoulder, letting herself melt in your arms. “I missed you.”

You blinked away suppressed tears and kissed the side of her head. You didn’t realize how much you missed your sweet girl until she was in your arms again. “I missed you too, my love.”

You adjusted her Slytherin scarf — proudly, you might add — around her neck before pressing a kiss in her hair. You would make the most out of the two weeks you had with her if it was the last thing you did.

The commotion of the platform left the both of you unfazed as you went to grab her trunk from the express. You shrunk the trunk before tucking it away in your pocket, sending Melody a grin when she rolled her eyes at you. But as you went to leave the platform, Melody tugged you back in place with wide eyes.

You furrowed your brows and stared at her with a confused expression, hands ready to grab your wand in case she saw something that was potentially threatening. “What—?”

“Melody!” A boy ran over to your daughter and put a hand up as he took deep breaths, hair flashing many different colors before settling on purple. “I couldn’t find you after you left the compartment.”

You tilted your head at the sudden arrival of a boy before recognizing the face. You could recognize that face anywhere. After all, he was a spitting image of Remus and Tonks.

“Mum, this is Teddy Lupin.” Melody gestured to the tall boy and pushed up on her tippy toes to look past him, a small frown tugging at her lips.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Teddy.” You shake his hand and gently pull Melody back, eyeing her suspiciously before speaking to the young boy once more. “I haven’t seen you since you were an itty bitty baby.”

Teddy felt his heart kick up at the thought of you knowing him before now. You must’ve known him from when he was a mere baby. You probably knew his parents and who his parents were.

“You knew my parents?” He breathed with eyes shimmering with interest.

“Of course, I did. Your father taught me in my third year, and I absolutely adored your mother.” You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and sighed, shaking away the thought of him being orphaned at such a young age. You would forever curse Voldemort for destroying so many families. “How are your studies going, Teddy? I heard—”

“Must we explain everything, mum?” Melody whined and interrupted your friendly demeanor. She didn’t want to stay at the platform any longer than you, but she needed to be here until he showed up, and she didn’t want to spend all that time listening to you being extra polite. It felt weird.

“Did you bring—?”

“He’s making his way over.” Teddy waved his hand in the air and rolled his eyes, slight annoyance filling them. Not because of her but because of his uncle.

He seemed to be taking his sweet time trying to find Teddy after he all but ran toward Melody the second he saw her blonde hair over crowds of reunited families. Although, he had to admit that his uncle was far better on time management than his god father. Harry Potter could save the entire wizarding world yet he still was late to all of Teddy’s milestones.

“He’s making his way through the crowds, although he was quite skeptic on why I suddenly asked him about dinner.”

You looked between the two and knitted your brows together. You knew Melody invited someone over for dinner, but you didn’t expect another person. So who was the other?

Before either of the two could speak, you interrupted with a stern tone. “Him who?”

“Ted, you can’t wander off and not tell me who we’re going to have dinner with — Oh, fuck me.” Draco caught up to his nephew, who he found standing beside the woman he loved all these years. He didn’t think running into you twice at the platform in one year would even be possible.

“Shit.” You mutter and quickly avert your eyes from staring at his disheveled figure, forcing your heart to steady itself.

Looking down at the two children, you crossed your arms and raised a brow. You couldn’t help but think the both of them planned it — and by the looks of their guilty faces — you knew you were right.

“What did you two do?”

Teddy folded before Melody could even utter a single syllable. He jabbed a finger in her direction as his hair turned a bright pink. “Melody did it.”

“Gee, thanks.” The said girl pushed his hand away from her face and met your questioning gaze. She knew she shouldn’t have surprised either of you, but she wanted the truth without you stepping on eggshells every single time. “Uhm…”

You tilted your head and waited for her to continue, feeling Draco’s looming presence right beside you. He was equally as confused by the ambush but was willing to listen to his daughter.

Melody nervously played with the ends of her hair before spilling everything, shutting her eyes tightly when she heard how selfish her plan truly was. If something horrible came out of this, it would’ve been her fault that you were upset and her father would never want to see her again.

“I just really want to know the truth! Teddy showed me the Black Family Tree a while ago and — well — I saw me on there connected to who I suppose my father is. And when I realized it was the same person we saw here, I knew I had to find a way to see him again. I want to know who my dad is, I want to really know him.”

Draco’s face twisted into surprise and looked over at Teddy for confirmation only to whip his head back to Melody.

“And your name was written underneath his, mum.”

Instinctively, you hid your left hand under your arm and bit the inside of your cheek. Though you weren’t officially married to Draco, his family signet indicated that you were promised to one another. Whether you decided to continue with the marriage or not wasn’t a controlling factor.

“You know he’s your father, what else is there to say?”

Melody peeled her eyes open and frowned. You were getting so defensive and she still didn’t know why you never told her about her father. Even Draco looked hurt by your words.

“Why did you never tell me?” She spoke softly — afraid that the only thing she’s ever known could fall apart in an instant. She loved you, but what you kept from her seemed so unfair.

“I promise I was going to tell you this week.” You matched her tone and pursed your lips when you saw her eyes swimming with sadness.

Melody shifted her attention to her father and crossed her arms, tilting her chin up with the same confidence he had at her age. “Did you come to the station on purpose?”

He swallowed thickly and shook his head, tucking his hands into his front pockets, fidgeting from habit. He hated confrontation. “No, I’m an auror stationed here when students head back to Hogwarts and come back.”

Melody looked to Teddy for confirmation — much like her father — and received a curt nod back, making her bite her lip in frustration. Neither of them was giving her the information she wanted needed. All she saw was the tension and the underlying love of two different people.

She wasn’t sure what to do. On one hand, she could press on and continue bothering them. But on the other —

“I didn’t even know your mother was pregnant.”

You perked up at the mention and glared at the blonde, eyes filled with the same anger and disappointment he saw months ago. “And whose fault is that?”

“I’m sorry that I wanted to protect you.” Draco narrowed his eyes at you, his tone challenging yours.

Melody took a small step back. This wasn’t how she planned this to go, but this was more information she received than from the last eleven years.

“You made that decision yourself.” You whispered, voice cracking with hurt. The walls you carefully built around old memories chipped away as you recalled them all — each moment flashing in your mind. “I could’ve helped, Dray. Instead, you pushed me away like I was nothing.”

Draco furrowed his brows together and shook his head — you were always so stubborn and so correct. “You could’ve gotten killed—“

“I would have died to stay with you.” You instinctively grabbed his hand. “Do you know how long I waited? How long I used to stay up — wondering if you would ever come back?” The tears began to well up as you continued to speak, voice trembling and hands shaking.

Draco quietly listened and stared down at your ringed finger, his family signet shining for all the wizarding world to see. He promised to marry you — to take you away from the mess of the past.

Yet he still left.

“I was praying to whoever was out there for you to come find me.” You quietly spoke and finally dropped his hand. “You left me with nothing.”

The both of you stared at one another with unspoken apologies. No matter how long it’s been, you could still read him and he could still read you. To one another, it was like reading a childhood book that could be recited front to back.

After seconds of stiff silence, you turned back to Melody and Teddy — handing your daughter the miniature trunk and keys to your car. “Melody, take Teddy and wait in the car.”

“Mum—“

“Now.” You cut her off and watch her and Teddy leave the platform. Steadying your breathing once more, you looked back at Draco and twisted your ring. “Do you even have anything to say?”

He looked between your eyes and ran his fingers through his hair, voice small like the seventeen year old Death Eater he once was.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke with so much emotion you swore you could see the colors surrounding him. “I’m so sorry I left without saying anything.”

A noise threatened to leave your lips, but you made no effort to leave your position nor say anything.

“But I was vowed to follow my father’s footsteps by becoming a Death Eater.” He took your hand in his and traced the familiar lines across your palm, effectively calming him and you. “Waking up beside you brought me comfort in all the torture they made me endure. I knew you didn’t deserve to suffer with me, so I left.”

Draco watched your hand delicately hover his arm where the mark was, biting his tongue when you thumbed the space below — something you used to do back in sixth year when he got so overwhelmed with his mission.

“I can’t ever take back the day I decided to leave and never show up again, but I don’t regret it.”

You silently absorbed his words and sniffled — signs that were so clear to Draco about what was to come. He tilted his head down to meet your eyes again, giving you a weak smile.

“You raised an excellent daughter without me.” He tired to cheer you up but frowned when he saw the shimmer of a singular tear streak down your face.

“I needed you.” You frustratedly wipe your tear and look away, knowing that the vulnerability of your heart was completely at stake. “Dray, I was seventeen too.”

He squeezed his eyes shut at the thought of the both of you — so young and restrained by everything.

“I was pregnant and terrified. I didn’t know if I could even raise a child on my own.” You breathed and looked up at the glass roofing, pushing the rest of the tears away. “Imagine how different our life would be if you just stayed.”

Another tear escaped and — suddenly — your barriers crumbled. The mere thought of raising Melody on your own without Draco consumed your every being. And somehow — even with just you — she ended up exactly like her father.

“Yes, Melody is amazing, but I really needed you.”

Draco caught your eyes and instantly pulled you in his arms, tucking your head under his chin — refusing to let go of you ever again. His heart continued to break at your silent sobs, each sniffle and hiccup chiseling the crack that formed years ago.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered and repeated it like a mantra, voice raw with so much sincerity. “I’m so sorry, my love. I’m sorry.”

“I needed you, Draco.” You sobbed and breathed in his familiar scent as you buried your face in his chest. You gripped the lapels of his suit, eyes squeezed shut as if you were afraid he would disappear again. “For more than eleven years, I needed you.”

“I needed you too.” Draco whispered and tilted your head up, thumbing your streaked face. His heart ached from all the time he missed out on. “I’m sorry.”

It felt like ages before you pulled away from him. The only sounds that could be heard was your occasional sniffling and the hisses of the express. You took in a shaky breath and wiped your nose with the sleeve of your jumper, mouth moving before your heart and mind could catch up.

“Would you still have dinner with us? I’m sure you’ve been here all day waiting for the arrival of the express.”

Finally listening to your own words, your freeze before slowly meeting his eyes. You were more shocked at yourself than his answer.

“I would love to have dinner with you and Melody.” He answered truthfully before waving his free hand around with the smallest smile on his face. “And Teddy.”

You match his expression and tilt your head to the right, wringing your hands together. “Maybe you could finally get to know Melody.”

Draco’s lips curled into a fully blown smile, his gray-blue eyes sparkling with delight at the idea of finally knowing his one and only daughter. “I would like that.”

“Me too.” You say softly and — for the first time in a long time — hide the rising warmth forming on your cheek.

Draco Malfoy. The biggest love and loss of your life.

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago

Text

Title: In The Serpent's Den.

Pairing: Yandere!Suguru x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 4.7k.

TW: Non/Con, Hybrid AU, AFAB!Reader, Cobra!Suguru, Rabbit!Reader, Biting, Aphrodisiacs, Heat Cycles, Oviposition, Manipulation, Biting, Breeding Kinks, and Predator/Prey Dynamics.

“It’s time to come out, little rabbit.”

His tone was sickly sweet, lulled into something saccharine and tempting, only slightly distorted by the uncommon shape of his tongue. Despite his melodic coaxing, you curled further into yourself – pulling your thighs flush to your chest and burying your knees in your face, doing your best not to breathe, not to cry, not to make a sound. The temptation to uncurl yourself entirely and run, run, run until you found somewhere small and dark and safe gnawed on the back of your mind, but it never would’ve worked. You were in Suguru’s enclosure, Suguru’s territory, and there was nowhere to run where he wouldn’t be able to follow.

“I’m losing my patience, little rabbit. If you come out now, I promise I’ll try to hold myself back.”

Why was he even looking for you? It’d been weeks since his eccentric, white-haired owner forced you into the sprawling greenhouse that made up Suguru’s enclosure, and he’d never paid you a second glance. You did your best to avoid him, to make sure you never crossed his path while he was prowling for a meal. You could count the number of times he’d acknowledged you on a single hand, and he’d never so much as lunged at you. You couldn’t imagine why he’d decided you’d make a good meal now, after weeks of relatively peaceful cohabitation. Maybe he’d gotten tired of keeping you around, of having to share his territory with another hybrid – one so far below him on the food chain. Maybe, this was just the first time he’d gotten hungry enough to hunt you down.

You heard branches shift, twigs break, and instantly, all of your thoughts (rational and otherwise) were replaced with a frantic, buzzing static. “You’re only making this worse for yourself,” Suguru went on, and his voice was too loud, too close. You’d tucked yourself into the densest patch of foliage you could find, but your white ears and cottony tail stood out like blood on snow against the vivid greens and blacks of the flora. Suddenly, trying to hide at all felt stupid. Rabbits weren’t supposed to hide. Rabbits were supposed to die and get eaten by the big, mean snakes who preyed on them. “I’m going to find you, and when I do, you’re only going to be sorry you made me wait as long as I have.”

You could hear the dull drag of scales moving over rough stone, the ebbing ‘hiss’ that formed a slight lisp at the end of each sentence. You raised your head just far enough to see a large, black shape move in front of you, and something buried deep inside of you cracked and spilled open.

Running wasn’t a choice – it was the only option. You were on your feet in a second, sprinting deeper into the greenhouse in another. The direction didn’t matter. As long as you got away from him, nothing else mattered.

Blindly, you vaulted over fallen branches and overgrown roots, rotting leaf litter threatening to steal your balance as you veered away from the beaten path and threw yourself into the tangled wilderness. If Suguru was chasing you, you couldn’t hear him – the world little more than a blur of color and your own racing pulse. You just needed to find somewhere better to hide, somewhere he’d forgotten. A tunnel, or a tree hollow, or a cave dark enough to hide your snowy pelt from prying eyes. You just needed to—

Your trek came to an abrupt end as your collided with a pane of thick, emerald-tinted glass and were sent crashing to the ground. It took you a second to process what you’d run into – the wall of the greenhouse, the edge of Suguru’s enclosure – and another to remember that you weren’t in the wilderness, anymore, that you wouldn’t find a tunnel or a cave or anywhere else to hide that hadn’t been created deliberately to trick animals like you into to think they were safe. You might’ve cried, if you hadn’t been so desperate. You might’ve gone looking for Suguru yourself, if you hadn’t been too scared to remember what it meant to be caged.

Fighting back tears, you started to scramble onto your feet, but it was already too late. There was no sound, no warning, just a sudden pressure against your back and an agonizing pain burrowed into the side of your throat. His fangs were planted in your neck before you could so much as scream, his strong tail wrapped around your legs and his arms crossed over your midriff, keeping your body locked against his as he pinned you to the ground. You expected his venom to burn, to be able to feel death as it flooded into your veins, but instead, there was only a slight numbing sensation around the point of insertion, a distant fog over your senses that might’ve just been your own fading adrenaline. If anything, you felt…

You felt warm.

Suguru took his time pulling away, his ribbon-like tongue flickering over the skin of your throat before he lifted his head. You weren’t facing him, one of your cheeks pressed into the dirt, but you could just barely see him out of the corner of your eye, make out the dark hair tucked behind his shoulders, the pitch-black scales littered over his face, his chest. You knew he was a snake, but you thought you might’ve heard his owner call him something else, once or twice. A ‘cobra’, maybe, but you’d never met a cobra before. You felt safer thinking of him as a snake.

He opened his mouth, but you were already babbling. Trying not to cry had been useless. Tears poured down your cheeks unabashedly, blurring your vision and making it that much harder to spit something coherent out. “P-please don’t eat me – I’m really small for a rabbit, and I promise I won’t taste very good, and I—”

“Quiet, little rabbit.” You’d been wrong, before. You didn’t feel warm, no, you felt hot – something deep inside of you beginning to smolder at the sound of his voice. Immediately, you shut your mouth, and he rewarded you with a raspy chuckle. “You thought I was going to… to eat you?” You nodded stiltedly, and he went on. “Ah, no wonder you were so afraid. And here I thought my timid little bunny just didn’t like me very much.”

“…’m sorry.” You must’ve run farther than you realized. A few minutes of sprinting shouldn’t have left you this breathless, this dazed. “You… You aren’t going to eat me?”

“No, bunny. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“But, you bit—”

“I gave you a present.” Another dry chuckle, his tongue flitting over the back of your neck. “Just a little something to make sure you wouldn’t be so shy. You should already be feeling better.”

You weren’t sure that you felt better, but you didn’t feel scared, either. A different feeling had taken the place of your fear – the sensation viscous and churning and prone sending pangs of dull, burning pain to the pit of your stomach. You had to make a conscious effort to move your lips, and even then, it was hard to get any sound past your suddenly dry throat. Suguru waited patiently, seemingly more than happy to watch you stumble over your own tongue. “It’s really warm,” you managed, eventually. “I think I might be… tired?”

“Oh, of course. I forgot how easy it is for prey animals to wear themselves out. I’ll take you back to my nest, where you’ll be able to rest safely.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded eagerly. Safe. You wanted to be safe. You couldn’t remember what you needed to be safe from anymore, though.

He uncurled, but didn’t pull away from you. Rather, your smaller body was pulled against his broad chest as he took you in his arms and carried you through the greenhouse. His destination was a raised loft – set above the wild foliage of his enclosure, accessible only by a sparsely wrung ladder you never would’ve had a hope of climbing on your own. His nest wasn’t at all like a rabbit’s nest, either. Rather than a deep, dark tunnel padded with fur and leaves, he’d taken you to a mess of tangled roots and woven blankets, all piled onto one another to form a box-like bed. Your form, limper than you would’ve liked it to be, was laid on a relatively soft patch, and Suguru positioned himself above you; upper body supported by his forearms, his never-ending tail taking up whatever space you left unoccupied. You wanted to sleep, to do what he said you should, but he was still touching you – dragging a single, clawed finger down your chest and over your midriff, only pausing at your waist to draw slow, swirling patterns into your hip. “My venom has a unique side-effect, you know,” he muttered, his voice low and soothing, the tapered tip of his tail lashing from side to side as he spoke. “A full dose would be fatal. It’d be fast, too – a few seconds of screaming, a few seconds of twitching, and then—” He paused, clicked his tongue. “—dead, just like that. It’s a little anti-climactic, to be honest.”

Something deep inside of you began to throb. You shrunk into yourself, trying to relieve the pulsing ache, but Suguru mistook your agony for fear. “In controlled portions,” he continued, splaying his open palm over your hip. “The symptoms are much more pronounced. Humans tend to get all feverish and clumsy, but hybrids—”

Again, he paused. His hand drifted lower – first to your thigh, then your cunt. You didn’t realize you were dripping until his cold fingertips skirted over your slit, gathering up the slick already staining the inside of your thighs.

“Hybrids go into heat.”

A cold wave of dread washed over you, and Suguru’s smile widened.

“…heat?”

“Heat, little rabbit.”

His hand lingered on your pussy, two of his massive fingers splitting apart your lips and making room for his tongue to lap gingerly over your entrance. The sensation was strange – not good and not bad, a little ticklish – but your hips bucked as it flickered over your clit. You knew better than to get so close to a snake’s mouth, but you couldn’t seem to move, to think about anything but getting closer, closer to anything that could touch and poke and lick you. “Is heat—” You started, only to be cut off by a cracked whimper as the throbbing in your core intensified. “Is it supposed to hurt?”

“Only for a while.” His deep voice reverberated against your cunt, and you couldn’t stop yourself; attempting to rock your hips against his mouth with a high-pitched whine. It was embarrassing to be so needy, so desperate, but Suguru didn’t seem to mind, only ghosting his lips over the inside of your thigh as he pushed you back down. “But, you’ll need a mate to help you through it. Do you want a mate?”

“Y-Yes! Mate!” You’d never felt this empty, before. It was a little like hunger, but not as jagged, not as desolate. It was more of an absence than anything more tangible; a total and complete vacancy that had to be filled. You tried to roll onto your stomach, to scramble onto your hands and knees and present yourself, but Suguru held you in place with minimal effort. Your protest came in the form of a drawn-out whine, a waving sound Suguru mocked with a low coo and an airy laugh. “Please, please, it hurts, Suguru, I can’t— I need—”

“You need cock,” he finished, his tone one of pure, undeniable satisfaction. With a sigh, he picked himself up, straightening his back and towering above you. You felt saliva pool at the bottom of your mouth as the junction between his upper body and his tail came into view – pale skin slowly giving way to ebony scales, the sculpted muscle of his chest meeting the plated armor below his hips. His hand fell away from you, but you couldn’t mourn the loss of contact, not when your attention was so fixated on the thin, almost invisible slit just below his pubic bone. His fingertips slipped shallowly inside of it, and his gaze shifted back to you. “Come, little bunny. I think you’ve earned another treat.”

The encouragement was appreciated, but unnecessary. You were already crawling towards him, your limbs uncooperative and your movements jolting but your resolve absolute. There was still a throbbing emptiness inside of you, getting worse and more demanding with each neglectful second, but all you could think about was settling onto your knees in front of Suguru and drooling at the sight of his fluttering slit. You weren’t sure what to do, whether to use your hands or your mouth, but Suguru didn’t leave much time for indecision. His free hand found its way to the back of your head, nudging you forward until your mouth was pressed against his slit, just starting to leak thick trails of translucent slick over his dark scales. Your tongue darted past your lips hesitantly, at first, but your trepidation didn’t last very long. It couldn’t, not when you had a hollow pit inside of you still begging to be filled.

Suguru’s fingers carded through your hair as you lapped and sucked at his slit. The taste was mildly acidic, but surprisingly sweet – your eyes quickly falling shut as you sank into a pattern of wet sounds and strange textures and point claws grazing over your scalp, scratching at your ears. Throaty moans (the loudest noise you would ever hear Suguru make, in hindsight) and mumbled praise trickled past his lips as you worked, letting you know that he liked the way you were curling your tongue, that the spongy spot you could just barely reach inside of him was particularly sensitive. It wasn’t long before a mix of your saliva and his arousal dripped past the corners of your mouth, before the end of his tail was lashing violently within the confines of his nest. Maybe Suguru was in heat, too. You hoped he was. You didn’t want to be the only one in so much pain.

You felt the tapered tip of something smooth and stiff against your tongue, and Suguru buckled forward, a ragged gasp tearing past his lips as he took your head in both hands and pressed you flush against his abdomen. Confused and panicked, you tried to pull away, but his grip was iron-clad and it was all you could do to whimper, to sit there helplessly while something filled your mouth – hard and ridged and hot enough to burn. Cock, the pulsing in your core filled in, but it couldn’t be. Suguru had made it sound like something you needed, something you were supposed to want, but you didn’t like the way the blunt head prodded at the back of your throat, the way the ridged underside ground against your tongue. For the first time since he’d caught you, your instincts agreed with your better judgement, both urging you to get away, to run, to put distance between yourself and this newfound threat.

Your pussy, though, couldn’t seem to do anything but chant mate, mate, mate.

You could feel something else, too – not in your mouth, but pressing into your chin, your throat. Reflexively, your hands shot up, wrapping around the thick intruder, and this time, Suguru let go of you entirely, biting back a half-choked groan as he pushed you away, leaving you sprawled out and alone in the center of his nest. The hollowness inside of you was nearly unbearable, and rubbing your thighs together only seemed to make it worse. You tried to look to Suguru, to ask him to do something, but instead, your eyes caught on the long, pale appendage pressed into his lower stomach. His cock. Or, his cocks, you guessed.

You hadn’t expected there to be two of them.

You hadn’t expected them to be so big, either. Even at a distance, it was clear they weren’t meant for a rabbit. Just one would’ve been more than you could handle – as long as your forearm, as thick as your wrist, the end tapered to a steep point but the base absolutely massive before they disappeared into his slit. The color was strange, too – the tip flushed a dull pink while the base was nearly as dark as his scales, creating an ombre that might’ve been pretty, if you weren’t so terrified. You couldn’t see any veins, but both were sculpted with pronounced, perfectly spaced ridges. You couldn’t imagine having something like that inside of you, but you couldn’t imagine not having anything inside of you, either.

You couldn’t be sure how long you spent staring up at him, trying to wrap your head around his size, trying to decide if you’d rather be torn apart by his cock or your own increasingly demanding needs. In the end, it wasn’t really your choice to make. His eyes darted from your clenched thighs to your heaving chest to yours, wide and watery, and a grin found its way back to his lips. For some reason, his smile wasn’t as comforting as it’d been, the first time you saw it. “I’m sorry, little rabbit. Did I startle you?” The tenderness in his voice was almost cloying. You didn’t move, didn’t respond, but he didn’t seem to need you to. “I didn’t mean to. Why don’t you spread your legs nice n’ wide for me, and I’ll make it up to you?”

Your gaze fell back to his cocks. One of his fists had wrapped around both, pumping idly while he stood above you. “Are those supposed to…?” You trailed off, shrinking into yourself. Suguru hummed, and you took it as confirmation. “But you’ll only use one, right? I don’t think I can— I mean, it won’t fit if you—”

“Really? I could’ve sworn you were begging to be fucked properly just a few minutes ago.” You stiffened, but he only laughed. “Fine, fine. If that’s what you think you want, I’ll only use one.”

You didn’t think you could trust him, but you could feel yourself getting hot, again, a haze forming over your mind. You could leave when he was finished, you figured, even if you weren’t entirely sure how to get out of his nest, or where to go once you’d escaped back into the greenhouse. After you got over your— your heat.

Hesitantly, you started to listen to the negging mantra still playing in the back of your mind, to obey the near-deafening voice in the back of your head urging you to get on your hands and knees and make him fuck you, but Suguru must’ve decided you weren’t moving fast enough. His tail shifted underneath you, a thick coil catching your side and leaving you bent over one of the thicker lengths, your stomach pressed into his cool scales and your feet barely able to reach the tangled roots of his nest. You scrambled for purchase, but Suguru was there to steady you – his hands finding your hips, his cocks pressing into your ass. The calloused pads of his fingertips pressed into your waist as he aligned one of his cocks – the upper one, you thought, just a little thicker than its twin – with your entrance. He was kind enough to give you a long, slow second to breathe before his hips rutted forward and he inside of you.

Immediately, it felt wrong.

You’d been right when you decided he was too big for you. He was only half-sheathed, and yet, the tip of his cock pressed into the floor of your cervix, the head of his cock alone enough to stretch your pussy as far as it could go. Thankfully, he didn’t try to force himself deeper, but feeling the smooth ridges of rub against the walls of your pussy as he pulled back wasn’t much better. Still, your cunt clenched around him eagerly, doing its best to suck him in despite your physical limitations. Suguru, of course, seemed more than happy to indulge you. His thrusts were slow and lethargic, as gentle as they could’ve been but still forceful enough to leave you pinned to the curve of his tail. You weren’t in control of your body, anymore. As he rolled his hips against your ass, you ground back against him, your greedy cunt never warm enough, never wet enough, never full enough. You tried to dig your blunt claws into his tail, to ground yourself, but it was a futile effort; a limping dear attempting to evade a wolf who’d already tasted its blood. Suguru’s only response was a stifled groan, a new roughness to the way he fucked into you. You felt his chest against your back as he bent at the waist, draping himself over you, his dark hair falling from his shoulder and replacing chunks of your vision with a curtain of thick, endless black. It didn’t matter. A fresh wave of tears would’ve left you just as helpless, not that Suguru seemed to mind the way you sniffled and sobbed between moans.

“They say— fuck, you know what they say about rabbits, don’t you, bunny?” His voice was barely audible, but it seemed to echo on and on and on in your overly sensitive ears. His cock ground against something softened and vulnerable inside of you and your back arched, your pussy clenching impossibly tighter around him. “That’s it,” Suguru encouraged, as you tried to pry yourself away from his freezing tail and chase the gentle warmth of his chest. “They say bunnies make the best sluts. Knock them up once, and they’ll never stop begging for it.”

Kits. A strong mate. A safe nest. The thought alone had you crying out for nothing, your convulsions growing that much more erratic, and Suguru chuckled in-turn. “Like that? Want me to make you into my little mate-whore?”

“Want it, please, w-want it so bad.” It was all you could do to force yourself to speak, to spit something out through the daze of lust and exhaustion and total, unrelenting fullness. You’d never been more sure of anything than you were in that moment, never knew something as deeply as you knew that you wanted Suguru’s kits inside of you. “Please, wanna be you mate, wanna—Suguru—!”

One more thrust, one more scape of his sleek scales against your clit, and you were coming undone around his cock in jolting, erratic convulsions. Suguru let out a ragged grunt and straightened his back, but the distance was short-lived. Strong arms snaked under your knees, spreading your legs and hauling you up to his height. Your back remained pressed against his chest as he pulled out of you entirely and slammed back in. Even through the overstimulation, the wrongness hit you immediately. His cock was too big, too thick, and—

And he was inside of you.

Completely inside of you.

You forced yourself to open your eyes, letting your head fall forward limply. The shock was minimal, but still devastating – both of Suguru’s cocks buried inside of you to their pitch-black bases, their outlines just barely visible against the plush flesh of your lower stomach. “You—You promised you wouldn’t—”

His face was buried in the dip of your shoulder, his lips parted as panted against you. You felt his teeth catch on your skin before sinking into you, had time to process the pure heat of his venom seeping into your veins. Instantly, anything you might’ve said died on your tongue, your mind going utterly, entirely blank save for a single thought: mate.

Your mouth fell open, your thighs spreading that much farther. Suguru pressed a lingering, open-mouthed kiss into the injection site, then pulled away, grinning wildly. “A few drops, and you’ll want everything I have to give you,” he muttered. “That’s better, isn’t it, bunny?”

Much better. You could feel something swelling at the base of his cock, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge anything other than the utter bliss as a small, round shape was milked up the length of his cock and emptied into your core. Kits, you thought, and did your best to settle onto his twin cocks, to hold still as another egg was forced through your tight pussy. You stopped trying to count after the fourth – giving in completely to the shuddering, splintering euphoria every new member of your little family brought you. By the time the final egg was safe and snug inside of you, you were limp, twitching, and so full, it was hard to imagine ever feeling empty again.

As the last aftershocks started to fade, Suguru sucked in a stilted gasp and pulled you flush against his chest. You felt his second cock twitch once, then twice inside of you before something warm and thick flooded into your pussy. You whined miserably as he pulled out of you, but he didn’t stay gone for very long. Your pliable body was turned around in his arms, his cocks slid back into your leaking cunt as he carefully lowered himself onto the floor of his nest – your body laid on top of his. You strung your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against his chest, closing your eyes and giving in to your well-earned exhaustion.

You lasted just long enough to hear him mutter something about mates and clutches before your consciousness faded entirely and your mind went mercifully, blissfully silent.

Hours later, you woke up to the sound of a low, long whistle. “Really did a number on the poor thing, huh, Suguru?”

It took you a second to blink your eyes open, to raise your head and glance toward the man standing at the top of the ladder that led to Suguru’s nest, and another to recognize him as Suguru’s owner. His white hair was in a state of disarray, his eyes hidden behind circles of tinted glass, and for some reason, he was looking at you. You shrunk further into Suguru, but he only laughed – the noise loud and piercing to your foggy senses.

Suguru’s cocks were no longer inside of you, the flushed tips just barely visible at the base of his slit. You were still on his chest, and his arms were wrapped around your waist, his hold loose but possessive. There was a small bump over your lower stomach, and you weren’t sure whether to grimace or beam at the feeling of Suguru’s eggs shifting inside of you with every little movement. He was already awake – had been for some time, judging by the unimpressed scowl pressed into his lips. Something sharp and icy lodged itself into your chest, but his glare was directed towards his owner, not you, and the very tip of his tail curled around your ankle protectively as his owner stepped into his nest.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to walk into a serpent’s den?”

“I don’t think it counts if I own the den.” He straddled the bulk of Suguru’s tail, then gestured to you. “Turn the pretty baby around. I wanna see the damage.”

You shook your head vehemently, clinging to Suguru’s neck, but his own response was an exasperated sigh, a fleeting hiss to your cheek as he flipped you over; leaving you slayed across his chest and exposed to his owner’s prying gaze. “Five minutes,” he said, as his owner shrugged the waistband of his pants down just far enough to free his cock, already half-hard, already enough to send a bolt of pure dread from your heart to the pit of your stomach. “I don’t want your scent on my mate.”

You opened your mouth, ready to whine that you were sore, that you were tired, that you didn’t want anyone but Suguru and your kits inside of you, but the words withered into nothing on your tongue as his owner eased himself into your dripping pussy, as Suguru caught you by the chin and pulled you into a shallow, lingering kiss – the points of his fangs just barely scraping over your bottom lip. Looking back on it, it had been silly to ever worry that he’d eat you.

You should’ve been worried that he wouldn’t.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #hybrid au #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #yandere jjk #jjk imagines #yandere geto suguru #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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moonstruckme · 5 months ago

Note

Hi! So I have the issue where I’m not able to turn my brain off I guess and I’m having to constantly be aware of everything happening around me and managing everyone because if I don’t do it no one will. It’s so tiring to never have a minute to not be a very aware of every little thing. That being said, could I request a Remus or poly!marauders where reader is able to not be in constant manage mode? I know that’s really weird and if it’s too much just ignore this. Thank you for everything you do on here ❤️

Not weird! Very relatable actually haha. Thank you for requesting angel <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 823 words

“I like my system,” James says as you kneel in front of his suitcase, folding shirts. “My pants go on that side, then shirts in one corner and the rest in the other.”

“I don’t think it counts as a system if you’re just piling stuff in, Jamie.”

“How do you figure?”

“Well, doesn’t it bother you that they’re all wrinkled?” You frown, taking out a balled-up pair of trousers. It bothers you, and they’re not even your clothes.

“Not really, no. It’s a holiday, lovie, who am I trying to impress?”

“Um, me?” Sirius shoots a look across the bedroom. He’s busy stuffing things into his own suitcase on the other side of the bed.

“Oh, always,” James says gamely. “But you love me whether my shirts are wrinkled or not, don’t you?”

Sirius makes a wishy-washy noise that sees James tossing a pair of socks at his head. He dodges and they bounce to the floor.

“Did you remember your glasses cleaner?” you ask James, feeling about the pockets of his suitcase.

“All under control, angel. It’s in my backpack.”

“Perfect.” You finish neatly folding the last of his things and stand to kiss him. “Thanks.”

“Thank you. Though you didn’t have to fold my underwear, I could have managed that myself.”

“It was no problem.” You round the bed to where Sirius is packing, peering down at his suitcase.

He looks up with a raised brow. “Can I help you?”

“Are you packing your conditioner?”

Sirius’ other brow comes up to join the first. “Yes, I am. Do you have a problem with my hair smelling lovely?”

“No.” You smile, rolling your eyes when he pinches the back of your thigh playfully. “Just remember that it has to be under a hundred milliliters if you’re not checking your bag.”

“I’ve got it, doll. You worry about your milliliters, and I’ll worry about mine, m’kay?”

You hum. “And, um…”

“What?” Sirius’ tone is dry, but it’s all fondness in the tilt of his mouth as he looks up at you. “You gonna fold my underwear, too?”

“No, just, have you eaten? I don’t know if we’ll have time to eat at the airport.”

“I think Remus wants you, sweetness.”

“Hm?”

Sirius points with his chin, and you turn to find Remus watching you from the doorway to the bedroom. He looks a particular brand of appealing in his travel clothes. The trackies James got him for Christmas probably shouldn’t go so well with his overlarge jumper, but Remus being Remus, of course it works. He beckons you toward him.

“Oh, okay.” You glance back at Sirius one more time as you go. “Don’t forget to take your lighter out of your bag, security will take it away.”

“Love you too!”

“Hi,” you say to Remus, who wordlessly folds you into a hug as soon as you leave the bedroom. “Everything okay?”

He hums. “Everything’s great, yeah. Are you excited to go?”

You’re bemused but pleased by his hand running up and down your spine, his freshly shaven jaw pressed to your temple. “I am, yeah.”

“Mm. Relaxed?”

“I’m…yeah, sure.”

Remus chuckles softly. “You seem a bit strung up, lovely. Are you all packed?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Me too. Anything else you need to do before we go? Have you eaten?”

“I ate, yeah.” You glance back towards the bedroom, the movement almost involuntary. “I think I just need to make sure—”

“You’re all ready then?”

It’s not like Remus to cut you off, but when you turn back around his expression is all fond patience.

“I think so,” you say. “At least, my stuff is all done.”

“Perfect.” He kisses your head, then takes your hand, leading you away from your boyfriends. “Let’s relax for a bit while they finish up, then, yeah?”

You let Remus guide you to the couch. At first sitting, then curling up against his side, your head resting over the steady beat of his heart. His hand runs up and down your arm, and slowly the tension seeps out of you.

“Sorry,” you say after a while. “Was I being annoying?”

“No,” Remus reassures you. “Of course not. You’re only helping. You just don’t have to, you know?”

You cringe at yourself. At the clarity of hindsight. “Nobody asked for my help.”

“We’re adults,” he agrees. “We don’t need to be managed—or we shouldn’t. If Sirius packs too much conditioner, he can sort it out himself.”

“Right. Sorry.”

Remus tuts, kissing the top of your head. “Please don’t be sorry. We all just want you to be able to relax. Give yourself a break, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.” You snuggle closer to him, letting the last of the tension sap from your body. “That doesn’t sound so awful.”

“I’m glad.” The smile is audible in Remus’ voice. He rubs your arm again, encouraging you to relax further.

“But what if James doesn’t know—”

“Dove. He’ll figure it out.”

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acmeangel · 6 months ago

Text

Levi always cut his own hair. Always. Over the bathroom sink, the door open just a sliver, a crease between his brow, his lips set in a straight line.

You knew this about him. You figured it was just another one of his habits and particularities, like how he has to brew his own tea. You tried once, and when he took a sip, his nose twitched and he asked “How did you make this?” — not quite an insult, he couldn’t bring himself to be completely rude to you, but you knew what he meant. You haven’t made tea since.

But the hair cutting. He’d never announce it, never make a comment about it after. If you told him it looked nice, he’d simply make a noise of acknowledgement and move on.

You’d simply find him, in the bathroom, door cracked open, while he leaned over the sink, snipping pieces of hair with practiced precision. The muscles in his neck, shoulders, and back would flex and move with every motion, the tension lingering within them obvious. The irises of his eyes looked cloudier, distant, and that crease between his brow persisted. Always.

You push the bathroom door open, slowly, soundlessly, as if a sudden movement would make him disappear into thin air. Sometimes, you thought it might.

You lean against the doorway, watching him — he catches your gaze in the mirror for just a second, his eyes locking onto yours with a fleeting vulnerable intensity, before he focuses on himself again.

You just want to help. It’s all you ever want to do, really — to take over some of the tedious little things he does by himself every day, just because he’s always done them by himself. Bit by bit, you want to show him that the weight he carries on his shoulders is something that can be shared, that you’d carry it with him, happily.

“You know, there are these things called barbers that are pretty good at this sort of thing,” you tease, gently, a faint smile curling onto your lips. You knew a groan was coming, but you also knew he appreciated your teasing. It made him feel more grounded.

Groan. Tch.

“Why would I pay someone to do a shitty job?” His eyes flicker to yours in the mirror again, a touch softer this time.

“Want help with the back?” you ask, your eyes lingering on the strands of hair that have begun to grow down the curve of his neck. “I’ll do it for free. It’s really quite a steal.”

“No,” he says. Instantly, flatly.

You walk over closer to him, as he snips the hair in front of his face.

“I won’t mess it up. I can handle trimming a few pieces of hair.” You smile at him in the mirror, and your hand finds its way to rest on the nape of his neck, gently. He flinches, slightly. He never moved away from your touch anymore — not since the early days of your relationship, where every affectionate touch was foreign to him. In fact, now he usually leaned into it, wanted it.

“I can do it myself.” His voice comes out a little lower, a little rougher this time. His eyes don’t find yours in the mirror.

“Okay, Levi.” Your hand retracts from his neck, and you exit the bathroom. You didn’t want to push, you never did. You learned that with Levi, things had to progress a little slower. It had been like that since the first time he kissed you — his lips had been so light against yours, his hands just barely cradled your face. He’d never admit it out loud, but you knew he was afraid — afraid to let himself care about something precious, afraid that you’d leave him one way or another, afraid that he’d never be able to give you what you deserve.

 You knew none of it was true. You loved him, and you weren’t going anywhere, and you loved the way he loved you. Quietly, subtly, through actions and small gestures, instead of words and big romantic displays. It was all you’d ever need.

You didn’t need him to sweep you off your feet or tell you that he loved you every day. You were just as happy waking up every morning to a warm cup of jasmine tea on your bedside table, in your favorite mug that he had once spent hours fixing after the time you had dropped it. It was always made perfectly — something he’d learned just for you, despite calling it “that herbal crap.”

Seeing the way your lips curved into a smile after taking a sip was really the only thing he ever needed.

So, you leave the bathroom and you get into bed, and you wait for him to join you.

A short while later, he does. He slides into the bed beside you, his head finds the place on your chest that it always does. His head turns away from you, the back of his neck a faint red from rubbing it with a towel, tiny drops of water glistening in his hair.

You reach out and stroke his hair — while he doesn’t let you cut it, he will always let you run your fingers through it. You’ve found that it soothes him, that it helps him relax at night.

He makes a noise of approval, of affection.

“I’ve never let anyone cut my hair,” he says after a while, a hint of apology in his tone.

“Levi.” Your hand continues to stroke his soft hair. “You don’t need to explain it to me.”

“My mom was the only person who’s ever cut my hair.” His voice is low, a rare softness to it, as he admits this, his face turned away from you. “I don’t want…” His voice trails off.

He doesn’t need to continue. You know what he means. He’d told you bits and pieces about his mom, about his childhood, and you’d been able to put it all together. You could tell, by the way he talked about his mom, that his memory of her was starting to slip through his fingers — and now, it seemed, the way she cut his hair is one of the few memories left.

“I know,” you say, your voice soft. “Don’t worry. But, at least let me get you some better scissors for it.”

A long, gentle silence falls between you two. Your eyes trace the slope of his shoulder, the slow rising and falling of his breathing.

He turns over, his head faces toward you. Your fingers drift from his hair to the curve of his cheek.

“Maybe… next time, you can help.” His voice is a slight, relaxed mumble, and his eyes search yours. “With the back. It’s a pain. Practically break my damn neck doing it.”

Mmm, you hum, nodding softly. “Alright, I will.”

“Just don’t make it uneven. Or I might have to leave you for a shitty barber.”

You laugh, and you smile. This is all he ever needs.

The corners of his lips twitch into a faint smile. His hand reaches up to capture yours as it gently caresses his face, and he presses a soft kiss into your palm. You know what this gesture means.

“I love you too, Levi.”

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

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eleganzadellarosa · 1 year ago

Text

Melted

pairing: olderbrothersbestfriend!chan x needy fem! reader

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: MDNI (I'm sorry if this changes the way you see ice cream, pwp I guess, fast paced plot, unprotected sex (don’t 👀), big dick Chan (because what else would he be?), overstim, squirting, hair pulling, choking, creampie, Chan calls reader Baby, reader calls him Channie)

word count: 5.82K

A/N: Just because my mind has been on Chan A LOT lately. Also…this isn’t proofread 😬

Why would you like someone that ruffles your hair, tickles your sides and calls you “baby” as a nickname? Sounds childish right? Not to you when it comes to your huge crush on Chan. You know that’s just how he is with you and has been since you were younger, but you wish it meant something different to him.

Chan is best friends with your older brother, he’s basically been a part of your family for over 10 years. You’ve always liked Chan, but not in that way until your crush developed right before he moved. His family moved away for a while during his late teen years so you hadn’t seen him in quite some time. Then he suddenly came back and he was like a whole new person. His personality didn’t change, no, the way he looked did and you haven’t been able to keep your eyes off of him since.

He and your brother are 25 and you’re stuck being 23. It wasn’t a big enough gap to make anyone bat an eye, but you knew he always viewed you as his best friend’s little sister and you weren’t sure how to make that change. You watched as he pulled up in front of your house, picking up your brother like usual. They spent so much time together, you were almost past the point of jealousy and wanted to hate your brother for taking him away every time.

You stood in the open garage, watching him hop out the driver’s seat. He smiled and waved when he saw you and did a little jog onto the sidewalk and into the garage. Maybe things didn’t need to change and you needed to find someone else to crush on, but it was so hard when he would open his arms for you to hug him and would squeeze you tight until you couldn’t handle it anymore.

“Hey baby, missed you. How ya been?”

Baby. You would never get over that nickname. It gave you that warm fuzzy feeling but also gave you that second heartbeat.

“Hey Channie, you know same old same old. Where have you been all week?” You knew where he’d been but you’d do anything to have a longer conversation with him before your brother snatched him away.

“I went to go visit my family, they told me to tell you hi.” He smiled and you smiled back knowing how much his family loved you, which oddly enough made you like him more. “I got you somethin’, close your eyes.”

You obliged, closing your eyes waiting almost impatiently to see what he had for you. Not being able to see him in front of you but feeling his presence made a light blush fall on your cheeks. You felt his fingertips graze the skin on your hand and the sudden contact made you jump slightly. He carefully opened your hand and you felt the cold contrast of something against your palm.

“Open your eyes.”

You looked down to see a dainty anklet with small charms dangling from it. Your eyes lit up seeing each charm perfectly handpicked with things he knew you’d like. It was gorgeous and on closer inspection, it looked expensive. You didn’t care how much it cost, only worrying that he spent too much of his money on you, but loving that he got you a gift at all.

“Baby, do you like it?” He made dangerous eye contact waiting for you to reply. It didn’t help you gather your thoughts any quicker even though you had your answer already. He made your nervous system short circuit.

“Y-yeah Channie, I love it!” You smiled as much as you could to cover the way you swallowed thickly seeing him stand so close to you.

“Really? Oh gosh I’m glad, I thought I chose something you wouldn’t like.” He had to be lying. He could pick a leaf off a tree and you’d be jumping for joy. “Here lemme see, I’ll put it on for you.”

You gasped when he lifted you up to seat you on your dad’s workbench that sat at the back of the garage. The heat seeping in from outside was hot enough, but now you were sure you could break a thermometer. He kneeled down and wrapped the cold jewelry around your ankle. You were unconsciously holding your breath, scared of having any reaction because if you let go, you’d probably moan and you’d rather not make this awkward.

He looked up at you with your foot still in his hand, “It looks great baby, I like it.” God that comment had you slippery wet. He liked it on you? Now you’d never take it off. “Make sure you think of me every time you look at it.” He shot you a wink and your breath got caught in your throat preventing you from swallowing.

This conversation would be stored for fuel whenever you needed something to tip you over the edge at night. You almost said something equally seductive back, almost, when your brother came and took Chan away. You were used to it by now, never really having more than 10 minutes tops of alone time with him. It was frustrating, having to get most of your information from your brother who always reluctantly told you, asking “why do you wanna know anyways?”

You think Chan would tell you no hesitation if you actually had the chance to speak with him. But truth be told, you’d never be able to do such a thing with your brother around. He made it clear on multiple occasions that he didn’t approve of a relationship between you two if it ever came to be, but all three of you knew that would never be brought into existence.

You sat in the same spot on the tool bench, swinging your foot to see the charms sparkle in the small rays of sunshine. Chan said to think about him every time you looked at it, so you did. The thought of you on your knees in front of him, him slipping his thumb past your lips telling you to suck if you wanted to be rewarded. The ideas that ran freely were filthy and getting worse by the second. Your thighs rubbed together tightly as you felt yourself grow wetter with each passing thought.

The sun shined brightly through the small gaps between your blinds, easing you awake with its warmth. The weekends were the best because it was almost guaranteed that you’d get to have breakfast with Chan. It was an unspoken tradition and you marked it off in your mental calendar. You quickly washed your face before heading downstairs to the kitchen, only to see it completely empty besides the few duffle bags that sat beside the island.

“Where are you going?” You asked your brother who walked in at the perfect time before you could stump yourself with more unanswered questions.

“Didn’t mom tell you? I’m going to stay at a beach house with a few friends for the weekend.” He stuffed a few more things in his bag, talking with his back facing you.

“No…is Chan going too?” You asked carefully trying to make it seem like a normal question.

He rolled his eyes and leaned up against the marble island. “Next time you need to just start asking Chan these questions since you always wanna know everything about him. And no, he’s not coming.”

“Really?” A smile spread across your face but you quickly wiped it away when you saw your brother narrow his eyes.

“Don’t go bothering him while I’m away, he’s doesn’t wanna hang with you at all so just stay home!”

“You’re such an asshole, he never said that!”

“You don’t know what he said because you’re not his best friend! Just don’t bother him okay?” He sucked his teeth as he picked up his bags and walked out the door, kicking it closed with his foot.

He didn’t know what he was talking about. Chan wouldn’t say that, he would love to hang out with you. Right? You felt like a teenager crushing on a college boy that was far out of your league for multiple reasons but you swore you had a chance.

You sulkily walked upstairs back to your room and flopped on your bed. Being that your brother didn’t want you to bother Chan, it made you more curious as to what he could be doing right now. It sucks that you didn’t have his number or really any way to contact him. Well you did, you were just too scared to actually do it.

It was nothing but a 10 minute walk and 2 minute drive to get to his house but in the back of your mind, you were scared he actually wouldn’t want to see you. What would you say; what would be your reasoning for coming to see him?

“I have a crush on you and I want to be around you, please let me in?”

Like hell that would work. He’d probably slam the door in your face, call your brother and tell him how annoying and stupid his little-

There was a ring at your doorbell.

Your head snapped to your left, slightly shocked you had any visitors. It could easily be your neighbor since she always seemed to pop up randomly. “I got it!” You yelled out, jogging down the stairs. You looked out the peephole to see Chan standing there. Your heart started racing and you quickly looked over your appearance before opening the door.

“Channie?! What are you doing here?”

“Aww baby you aren’t happy to see me?” A cute little pout painted his face and you wanted to drag him in and kiss him all over.

“What? No, of course I am! My brother’s not here and I thought you knew…”

“Oh yeah I knew, I came to see you.”

He said it so nonchalantly as if it was normal to come see you. As if you both agreed to hang out today. Or as if you always hung out when your brother wasn’t around. He had to know what this was doing to you, there was no way he didn’t. You opened your mouth to say something but couldn’t find the strength to let the words come forward.

“I figured you’d be here all by yourself, so I thought I’d come pick you up.” He smiled brightly and there were those cute dimples. God you felt like you were gonna explode.

“I…umm…” you were stuttering and if he didn’t stop staring at you, you were going to be stuck like this.

He looked a bit sad and disappointed but waited to see what you would say. “It’s okay if you don’t want to Baby. I should’ve asked first, I’m so sorry.”

You quickly reached out to touch his arm and practically melted into a puddle, “No no Channie, I’m sorry, I just didn’t think you’d wanna hang out with me. I’d love to go to your house, especially since I’ve never seen this one.”

He smiled again, “Of course I would Baby, you’re my best friend! Now come on, hop in”

Oh how this was never something you thought would happen in a million years. You were Chan’s best friend? As much as you wanted this, there must have been some kind of mistake. Surely he didn’t actually think so.

He grabbed your hand and lead you to his jeep and opened your door for you. “Thank you Channie” barely left your lips before he reached inside and buckled your seatbelt, smiling at you before he closed your door. Your body was on fire; ignited from the soft and simple touches. You were down bad, there was no better way to put it. If he kept moving like this, you’d have to go home and deal with the problem between your legs.

His house was nice, nothing too big or small, just right for him. He had a great sense of decor and he kept his place sparkling clean. Scattered about on different pieces of furniture were photos of him, family and even younger pictures of the 3 of you.

“Baby, make yourself at home, you can sit anywhere you’d like.” He spoke to you from the little pass through window in the kitchen.

You nodded your head but decided to explore his living room some more. When you walked past the patio door, you noticed a reflection on the ground outside.

“Oh my gosh Channie, you have a pool?! Why didn’t my brother tell me?”

He walked over to you with a large red double popsicle and chuckled at the amused look on your face. “I’m gonna punch him when I see him, I told him to tell you because I know how much you love swimming. We can go out there if you want.”

He broke the popsicle in two and handed you a half. “I would love to…but I don’t have a bikini with me.”

“Just get in with what you have on.” He leaned against the side of his couch as he sucked on the cold treat.

You looked down at your outfit, a plain white tee and some daisy patterned shorts. “But I won’t have anything to change into. I can walk back home and get something.”

“Orrrrr, you can just wear some of my clothes until yours are dry.”

What was with him saying all this so nonchalantly? When have you ever worn his clothes? The smell must be absolutely amazing, he always smelled so good. If he was offering, you might as well just take it.

“Hmm” you bit your lip and smiled, “okay, but I don’t wanna get in by myself.”

He smiled as he finished off his half of the popsicle and chewed on the stick. He jolted off the side of the couch and pulled his shirt off. You almost choked on the leftover ice you had in your mouth. What the fuck was he thinking?

“Come on Baby, come swim with me.”

He opened the door and ran and jumped in without hesitation. After little to no consideration, you followed behind him, diving right in. The water was a perfect way to cool off in the hot summer sun. He swam over to you, hair drenched and sticking to his forehead. The droplets of water shined against his toned, muscular body. You wanted to lick him dry, no matter how long it took.

His right hand slid over your waist and around to your back, “you look so cute, I could kiss you right now.”

Cute? Kiss? Cute and kiss in the same sentence? Maybe you needed to pinch yourself to wake up from this completely unrealistic dream.

“M-me? I’m just plain and boring.” You mentally pat yourself on the back for not stuttering too much with how close he was and what he just said.

“You’ve never been either baby, no way that’s what you actually think.” His eyebrows raised in shock.

“Well yeah…there’s so many prettier girls than me. I’m just me, but they’re-“

It happened so fast that your mind didn’t process it. He bent down to press his lips to yours and hold you a bit tighter. Your arms were around his neck and you reciprocated the kiss faster than the fear set in. His tongue swiped over your lip and you happily allowed him to explore your mouth.

Somehow being drenched in the pool made it feel more sensual, nothing left to the imagination, bodies practically touching through the thin fabrics. You could feel how hard he was, pressing it right up against your thigh. You bravely touched him through his shorts, earning a small moan from him.

He ran a hand up the back of your thigh and roughly grabbed your ass. It wasn’t until you felt something press into your back that you realized he moved the both of you closer to the edge of the pool. He trailed the kisses over your jaw and to your neck. You were breathing heavily, making no effort to stop the sounds coming from you.

“I wonder how good you’d sound if I fucked you.”

“Channie please, oh fuck.”

Desperate was too innocent of a word to describe how badly you wanted him. You’d do whatever it took to make your dreams come true.

“Would you like that baby? Let me fuck you and make you feel good?”

At this point you were sure you stopped breathing. He looked so good with his wet hair, heavy lids, toned body pressed right against yours. Of course you’d like that.

“Yes Channie, I want it, I want you.”

He slipped your shirt over your head and left open mouthed kisses down your neck and across your chest. Just as he moved to get your nipple in his mouth, a loud ring came from inside the house; it was his phone.

“You should go get that Channie.”

He looked at you, lips parted and breathing heavily. “Fuck, okay I’ll be right back.”

He hopped out the pool and went inside while you tried to put all the pieces together. So Chan liked you? Or he simply just wanted a fuck buddy? Or maybe he just wanted to fuck you because he knows how much you like him and knew you’d be easy? The insecurity began to weigh down on you and now you just wanted to go home.

When he returned, he squatted down next to you, who was now slightly turned away from him with your arms wrapped around yourself in order to seek comfort.

“That was your brother, he said he’s coming home early because someone got food poisoning. So…he asked me to pick him up.” He reached out and touched your shoulder. “Baby, you okay?”

“Yeah Channie, you can just take me home.” You made sure to not let him see the tears brimming your eyes.

“You sure you’re-“

“Yes, I’d like to go home please.”

He watched you for a few seconds longer, definitely able to notice the shift in your mood, he just didn’t know what caused it. “Okay, let me at least get you a change of clothes.”

The ride back home was short and you got out before he could to open your door for you. He shouted something about seeing you later before driving off as you closed your front door behind you. You still didn’t have his number, so him hitting you up later wouldn’t be a thing, unless he was bold enough to ask your brother but you both knew that would open a can of worms you weren’t ready to try and close.

Now you were a bit nervous that he would tell your brother what happened because he wanted to know why you looked so sad. You’d just avoid him as much as you could and hopefully he would forget anything ever happened.

“As much as I don’t want you to, I need you to come with me and Chan so you can help me choose a gift for my girlfriend.” Your brother came into your room, not bothering to knock since your door was already opened slightly.

“I didn’t say you could come in!”

“Oh my god, yes or no?”

“You didn’t ask me anything dumbass and why don’t you already know what your girlfriend likes?”

“I do know but I want to know what’s the best out of the options I have and you’re a girl.”

“Umm…I guess?”

You were conflicted. You wanted to see Chan, you missed him even though it had only been two days since your encounter in the pool. But you also didn’t want to see him right now because you didn’t want to explain anything to him, yet if you said that your brother would for sure know something happened between you two.

“Okay well be ready in like 10 minutes, set a timer or something.”

Chan and your brother greeted each other like always and when he looked over at you, he looked as if he wanted to come hug you. “Hey baby, you coming with us today?”

Your brother rolled his eyes when you let a smile creep past your lips. You were weak for Chan, he knew exactly what to say to make you melt. Maybe you were thinking about it wrong, maybe he really did like you and he actually wanted to be with you. But having it happen so suddenly made you think perhaps you let your guard down too quickly.

You felt like such a third wheel around the two boys, laughing at their inside jokes and not worrying about you following behind them. Well Chan did, he would look back to make sure you were still there and smile at you when you made eye contact. It felt like hours even though but had only been 30 minutes of walking around the mall looking for the perfect gift.

“Girls like jewelry, so get her something she can always wear.” Your brother’s gaze followed yours down to your anklet. Before he could ask you where you got that, Chan spoke up.

“Yeah I told you that the other day man, if you really love her you should get her something that she can keep for a long time but also that you put effort into choosing.” He looked over at you when he said it, hoping you caught on to what he said.

You tried your hardest not to blush, your brother standing way too close for you to even let out a small squeal.

“Yeah that’s what I wanna get her but I’m not sure she’ll wear it, I never see her wearing jewelry.”

“Trust me bro, she’ll love it.” He placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and nodded his head.

“I’m gonna go get some ice cream and then head back to the car you guys.” You said waving your hand as you walked away. Your brother nodded as he answered his phone.

“Is it okay if I come with you baby?” Chan ran to catch up with you before you got too far.

“Sure Channie, I’ll pay for you.”

“You’re so funny Baby, I’m paying for the both of us.” As you approached the stand, he turned around grimacing. “Aww baby they’re all out of rocky road.”

After all these years, he still remembers your favorite ice cream flavor. “It’s okay Channie, just get me whatever you get.”

He smiled softly and nodded and ordered two strawberry cheesecake cones. You walked back with him to his car to enjoy yet another frozen treat in his presence. Of course, he opened your door and let you hop in before he did the same.

“Damn it’s already melting…”

“I prefer ice cream when it melts a little. Like when it drips down my fingers. It just tastes better that way…well to me anyway.” You realized you were babbling, so you looked up at him but he was already looking at you.

“You wanna lick mine off my fingers?”

The question alone could have made you cum, but the way he looked at you; eyes slightly hooded, lips parted, that had you throbbing. You couldn’t even answer him. Actually your mind was blank so you didn’t have an answer or any response to what he just said. He saw it on your face though. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you. He’s wanted you for a long time and as many hints as he tried throwing your way, you never seemed to catch them.

It became too much for him, your brother always getting in his way of spending alone time with you. He didn’t care what your brother thought about it though. He wanted you and he wanted you bad. So when he eased his hand toward your mouth and you happily let him push a finger past your lips, he knew he didn’t have to try to make you understand anymore; he made that clear when you were in the pool the other day.

“Sorry it’s not your favorite flavor.” He said, removing his finger to replace it with a new one.

“It is now.” Your words were partially cut off by the intrusion of his fingers. You were soaked and your head felt fuzzy, you felt like you were going to die.

You never broke eye contact and he watched you intently. “You can’t look at me like that if you don’t want me to ruin you.”

“Maybe I want you to.” You licked and sucked on his fingers as seductively as you could muster.

He licked his ice cream then shifted more toward you so he could kiss you. The contrast of the cold dessert and the heat from his tongue made you whimper. He slowly let your warmth melt the ice cream and drip down onto your neck and chest. He happily chased the drops with his tongue making sure none of it went to waste.

“Oh god Channie, mmm~”

He caught sight of your brother making his way over to the car so he quickly halted his actions and returned to his seat. “He’s coming, act normal. Deep breaths.”

Well that was surely easier said than done. He just licked the majority of his ice cream off of you, leaving you slightly sticky in multiple places. This was torture, getting so close to what you want only to be cockblocked by your brother once again.

“Yo Chan, is it cool if I stay at your place tonight? My girlfriend might stop by too.”

“Yeah sure, I don’t mind.”

“Okay cool, we can just drop Y/N off.”

You quickly turned, an exaggerated pout on your face, ready to fight your case. “NO FAIR!”

“It’s fine if she stays, I don’t mind.” Chan looked at your brother through the rear view mirror.

“What?! No way, she’s literally just going to bother us the entire time!”

“Fuck you, no I won’t! You always get to hang with Chan by yourself, I can be around him too!”

“Hey! It’s alright, you can sleep in my bed and I can sleep on the couch. I promise it’s fine.”

Your brother rolled his eyes and you stuck your tongue out at him. Maybe you were childish, but you weren’t going to let your day end without at least having another make out session.

You thanked God your brother’s girlfriend came quite late and that she took all his attention off of you and Chan. You all enjoyed some snacks and had movie night. It was nearing almost 2am by the time the movie was over, so your brother took her to the guest room where he was staying for the night.

You stayed up with Chan to help him tidy up even though he insisted he didn’t want you to.

“Is it okay for me to wear another one of your shirts Channie? I didn’t pack anything.”

He looked up from the dishes he just finished, “you don’t have to ask Baby, of course you can.” He gave you a big dimpled smile but then it dropped. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Yeah of course, what’s up?”

“Why were you so sad the other day? You know…in the pool.”

You knew he would ask you eventually so you might as well just tell him now and get it over with. “I don’t know…I just…wasn’t sure how to feel and was hoping you weren’t only doing it to take advantage of me.”

He walked up to you and kissed your forehead. “Oh Baby, I would never do that to you. I love you and I can’t ever say it or do anything about it because your brother’s always around. I’m sorry if I came off so strong but don’t ever think I’d do anything to take advantage of you. I love you, yeah?”

He rubbed his thumb over your hand and tilted his head waiting for you to nod your head. It took a heavy weight off your shoulders to hear him express his true feelings and being that he said it so easily helped you understand how genuine he was being.

“My room is all yours Baby, it’s the last door at the end of the hall. You can wear whatever you want and there’s towels in the closet in the bathroom.”

“Thank you for letting me stay Channie.” You stood on your tip toes and kissed him on the cheek and quickly ran away, leaving him in the kitchen with red ears.

You felt refreshed after your shower and even more comfortable as you slipped into one of his shirts. Since you didn’t bring a change of clothes, his shirt was the only thing covering you and barely so. You hopped into his king sized bed and playfully rolled around, enjoying the big size.

You looked over at the digital clock on the nightstand, it had already been more than an hour since everyone went to bed. You weren’t sleepy though, so you pulled out your phone and scrolled aimlessly on your socials. A soft knock on the door turned your attention towards it.

“Come in.”

Chan walked through the door, smiling when he saw you so comfy in his bed. “I couldn’t sleep but I also didn’t try…and, I can’t let you leave before I kiss you again.”

“Well good because I was thinking the same thing.”

He fully shut the door and locked it before he removed his shirt and hopped in the bed with you, lips immediately catching yours. His hands came up to grope your breasts roughly, sucking and biting your bottom lip as he did so. He slid a hand under your shirt, breaking the kiss when he felt your bare skin.

“God Baby, you’re driving me crazy. Seeing you in nothing but my shirt is making me sooo hard.” You took his hand in yours and moved it over your pussy. “Fuck…so wet already.”

He moved down closer to the edge of the bed and kissed his way down from your stomach. He gave you butterflies in the best way possible. His lips danced across the skin on your inner thighs sending tingles up your spine.

“Channie…” you say breathlessly and he looks up at you as his mouth attaches to your sensitive bud.

With his head between your legs, messily eating your pussy, your eyes were squeezed shut. It took every bone in your body to not moan, knowing that if you did, you would be loud. He sensed it, so he stopped eating you out and crawled on top of you.

He used two fingers to slip into you while his thumb pressed down harshly on your clit. “Don’t hide them from me, I wanna hear them.”

“B-but my brother is here.”

“And I want to hear how good I make you feel. Don’t hold back Baby, lemme hear your pretty moans.” His fingers sped up their pace, not giving you any other option. You moaned as your back arched slightly. “That’s it Baby, good girl.”

It turned him on watching how his actions made you react but he needed more; needed to feel the way your pussy wrapped around him like it didn’t want to let him go. You reached out to pull on his shorts and finally free his achingly hard dick from its confines. He was BIG but what did you really expect, it was just really really intimidating. None of that mattered though, you just wanted him in you without any interruptions.

He hissed when he used your arousal to mix with his and coat his length. He gave it a few pumps before he eased the head past your entrance. “I’ll go slow okay baby?”

“Okay Channie just keep going, please don’t stop.”

He caught his lip between his teeth, feeling the lust course through his veins hearing you beg and feeling the tightness of your walls. He watched your face contort in pleasure.

He was barely half way in, stretching you open with ease. “T-too big Channie…” You eyes were rolling back and you were already slurring your words.

“You can take it, look you’re doing so well for me Baby” he touched his forehead to yours and grabbed you by the jaw and kissed you again, “you feel so good Baby, so so fucking good, such a good girl for me.”

When he bottomed out he leaned over you to catch his breath so he wouldn’t cum too quickly. Your head was spinning. His body pressed into yours and the way he spoke to you already had your toes curling. He pulled out to the tip, your pussy making a squelching noise, and he quickly thrust himself back in. Your back arched off the bed and you almost screamed.

As much as you wanted to keep your sounds at bay, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep the volume down to a minimum. He snapped his hips forward with desperation, grunts and moans falling from the both of you. His hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing enough to make your head get fuzzy and awaken every nerve in your body. He pounded into you with no remorse, making this worth the long wait.

He suddenly pulled out, causing you to whine in response, and sat against the headboard. “Come ride me, wanna feel you in this position.”

You crawled over to him then hovered over his still hard, leaking dick. You sank down on him, taking small breaks so you wouldn’t faint from the pleasure. He bucked his hips up, making you drop down fully. He held you under your butt, spreading your pussy open to help you bounce on his dick easily.

The more you hopped up and down on him, the more you felt the sticky substances mix and connect the two of you. Your legs gave out when he started to thrust up into you every time you dropped down. He repositioned you so that you were on your knees, leaning forward into him. He grabbed a handful of your hair, your back arching more, as he hugged you and fucked you violently. The new angle made him abuse your sweet spot.

“Letting me fuck you with your brother just down the hall, I didn’t know you were such a slut Baby.”

“Mmm ah! Only for you Channie!”

He held you tighter when he felt your pussy clench around him. This is exactly what he wanted, what he dreamed of. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer himself, so he quickly flipped you onto your back again. One hand on the back of one of your knees and the other rubbing harsh circles on your clit.

“Oh fuck…oh fuck Channie I’m gonna cum!”

“You gonna cum? Yeah? Cum with me, make a mess all over my dick.”

He thrust deeper into you and bent down to suck on one of your nipples. A few more loud moans and circles on your clit and your pussy fluttered as you reached your orgasm. He didn’t stop and kept up his quick pace until you squirted all over him and the sheets below.

“Fuuuuuck” his hips stuttered and he pushed himself deep as he painted your walls white. He pulled out quickly, the rest of his cum spilling into his hands and seeping through his fingers.

When you looked down, you couldn’t help but grab his hands to put his fingers in your mouth. Funny enough, the cum looks just like the way you love your ice cream.

“Channie, I think you’re my favorite flavor.”

#bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #skz smut #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids smut

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endahouselikecarpet · 18 days ago

Text

Date Everything x Reader

Jokes about getting married

[Scenario is a friend who doesn’t know about the whole Dateviators thing jokes about you liking an object too much.]

[Slight CW- Sex joke in Daisuke’s section, but nothing explicit, and Kristof being a bit overprotective, but nothing unhealthy]

Betty- You had just lied down for the night when you got a call from a friend in a different time zone. “Sorry for calling! I just remembered how late it is for you there.” They apologized as soon as you answered.

“Hey, don’t worry about it! I’m always happy to talk to you.” You laughed.

“Still, being that late- and I’m sure you had a busy day- I bet you’re wanting to marry your bed right now.”

“I’ll be honest, I’ve thought about that more than once recently.” You laughed, your friend not knowing the truth behind your joke.

The two of you talked for a little while more with no major things coming up. Poor Betty though, was a flustered mess. She knew you were both close, but this was surprising for her. She knew you said it as a joke about the actual bed, and not her, but still she couldn’t get the thought out of her head.

Once you were done talking to your friend, you made sure to ask where she could hear, “Hey, um, maybe would could talk in the morning?” To be honest you wanted to talk to her about it tonight, but the Dateviators needed to be charged for the night. You wanted to be sure you could talk to her about it in person. As it was right now, you wouldn’t be able to hear her, and you certainly didn’t want this conversation to be one sided.

Hector- Your friend and you decided to go for a walk. It seemed like a nice enough day when you both started out, but soon enough it got pretty hot. By the time you both had gotten back to your house, you felt like you were going to melt. Hector, of course came to the rescue. Your friend flopped onto the couch while you went to get you both some fresh water from the kitchen.

“Man, your air conditioner is great!” Your friend sighed.

“Don’t I know it.” You agreed.

“I mean, with how hot I am right now, I feel like I could marry it!” They laughed then added, “I’m already taken though, so maybe you get that honor.” You both laughed at the joke.

Meanwhile, Hector was listening from the nearby vent thinking, “PLEASE, marry the air conditioner! Please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please-“

Daisuke- You were washing the dishes from breakfast and lunch at the kitchen sink. He appreciated this as you were always more careful and attentive to the dishes than Dishy was. While you were working, your phone rang. After drying your hands off your answered the phone and put it on speaker so you could still finish up.

“Hey, sorry if it’s loud. I’m doing the dishes.” You told them.

“You’re doing the dishes?!” The gave a fake gasp, “Shouldn’t you at least get them dinner first?”

“Yeah, yeah. Real mature.” You snorted before you both started talking about what they had called you for.

Daisuke was so confused. Why did you have to have dinner first? Wasn’t better to clean things sooner rather than later? Was your friend encouraging you to be less cleanly? That didn’t seem like it was a very good attitude to have!

Luke was the one that had to break it to him that it was a sex joke.

He is mortified. He cares for the human and would never assume that they would want to do something so personally intrusive as intercourse! Unless…

Mac - You were just messing around on your computer when you got a message.

“Are you still awake right now???”

“Yeah. Not ready to done for the day.” You replied.

“If you love your computer so much, then why don’t you marry it? xD” the sent back.

“That with the xD and everything? Are we 12 again???” You shook your head at the situation.

When you brought it up with Mac when you talk to them next, they tell you they saw it and they get a good laugh at it. In fact, it seems they’re laughing a bit too much at it.

That’s funny because it’s not like that would EVER happen, right? Like there’s no way that they’ve been thinking about that for a while or something. They haven’t been looking ring prices or anything. Don’t look at the internet search history real fast while they, uh, make sure there’s no extra cookies. Definitely, not taking online store visits off the list or something.

Kristof- He wasn’t a very jealous person. There was no need for him to be. He was very assured of himself and how much you care for him. However, there was something about the friend you were showing around the house that didn’t sit well with him. They seemed like they were getting a bit too close with you. Now, they weren’t, and he knew that. But, he still couldn’t help being suspicious and overprotective.

While you were showing them the workout room, they noticed your ring. “That’s a pretty ring.” They complimented.

“Thanks!” You beamed as you showed it to them.

“What’s with the decoration on the top though? Are you engaged to a treadmill or something?” They teased.

“As a matter of fact, they are!!” Kristof bellowed, not that either of you could hear him.

The rest of the room can, however, and they will not let him live it down. “Oooooooo, Kristof’s gonna get married!” Telly teased in a fake kid voice.

“Stop it," Fanita would scold, “That’s so cute!”

“Looks like the big guy has a soft spot after all.” Duncan chuckled.

“Speak of this, and I promise I will break you.” Kristof glared at all of them.

Shelly- Your friend had come over to help you reorganize a few things. While you were working sorting a box of old, family stuff, you started hanging stuff from an old, jewelry box on a few, little hooks that were on a nearby shelf. When you put a ring on one of the hooks, your friend jokingly said, “I now pronounce you person and shelf.”

You both laughed at the lame attempt at a joke and moved on. That’s all you thought about it…that is until you talked to Shelly later. She would be so serious, take you by the hand, and say, “I promise I will be the best partner ever. I won’t let you down.”

Doesn’t get that it was a joke, but doesn’t seem to mind. Of course, you two are married! You were pronounced and everything!

Have a good sit down talk with her and tell her that if she does really want to be married, the two of you should probably take a few steps back and handle things properly. She’ll certainly agree, but still isn’t totally sold on the fact that you weren’t married to begin with.

#date everything #date everything x reader #date everything fanfic #date everything betty #date everything betty x reader #date everything hector #date everything hector x reader #date everything daisuke #date everything daisuke x reader #date everything mac #date everything mac x reader #date everything kristof #date everything kristof x reader #date everything shelley #date everything shelly x reader

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pinkmirth · 7 months ago

Note

thinking about s/o who likes to dress up their vampire bf (yes i'm talking about adrian) and they always make sure that he likes the outfit too. he's just so pretty i can't 🥺

𝜗𝜚 ࣪ ˖ 𓈒 “DOTE” FT. ADRIÁN ‘ALUCARD’ ȚEPEȘ! ⸻ ( 2k+ ) words of ⨾ fluff + suggestive/nsfw, alucard x fem!reader ( black-coded ), canon-divergent, set in the set in the 15th century (1400s), established relationship, lowercase intended, explicit language, minors shoo!

my love letter! ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ oh my goodness luna, i adore this!!! doting on adrian and clothing him sounds like a dream! it’s moving enough for me to want to put it into words . . . i ended up writing this out to be a teensy bit sentimental, if that’s okay! i feel like he’d be hesitant to receive affection but eventually ends up reveling in it because it’s just what he needed! adrian truly deserves some loveee, and i’m here to give it to him >.< please enjoy, and thank you so much for reading! ❤︎

there’s something you and your lover like to call the ‘ echoes, ’ simply put, for any noise that bounces off the walls resounds throughout the entire castle. it’s a reliable system, and adrian’s able to use it to call your attention from anywhere within it.

“darling,” there goes his soothingly silken voice, ringing out all the way from the east wing. at times, you’re amused at how it can reach you from this far. “would you come over and give this a look, please?”

at his plea, you’ll be there. so you settle down the leatherback-book you’d been reading, slinking the pad of your finger beneath a page to fold it by the crisp outer corner.

“coming!”

you’re sure he feels you nearing, courtesy of your shallow-heeled footsteps thudding upon the wine-red shag of his home’s romanian rugs. he acknowledges your presence by swinging open the door to the primary bedroom.

you didn’t think you’d have to tiptoe around mountain-sized heaps of clothing upon entering adrian’s chamber— his closet’s practically ravaged. although, living with a dhampir was never known to be an experience short of surprises.

in the midst of all the madness is where he stands, still adorned in his cream nightgown. he’s got a garment clutched in one hand and a pullover tunic in the other. the subtle veins running along his slender hands makes his grip look exasperated. alucard appears to be having one of those days— where nothing feels just right.

“what’s all this, dear? thought you’d have been dressed by now,” you call out, making your way around a stockpile of trousers to approach him. gently, your delicate hands come to settle upon the broad expanse of his clothed chest. just as he figured it would, your touch immediately soothes him.

the man sighs before he speaks. “i apologize,” adrian peers down at you from where he stands, dropping both items to rest his hands on either side of your hips, “i’ll make sure to clean up afterwards.”

“no worries,” you hum, offering him a warm, sweet smile. when he tends to grow reckless, you know what he needs most is a dash of affection. “you wanted me to take a look at something, yes?”

“i did,” he mumbles, sunny eyes flitting over to his plundered closet, “though now i’m seriously reconsidering every single piece that i own.”

you don’t make a point to say it, but you know it isn’t about the blouses or the pants or any of those things. it’s his mind that tends to run rampant on all that’s been and all he’s lost. at tines, it manifests into agitation, a period of overstimulation where one thing makes him shirk and another gets him withdrawn. despite it all, he’s consoled that you’re here to reel him back in and distract him from himself in that dreamy little way that you do.

“show me the one you were last contemplating on, adrian.” you do it with such ease, pulling him out of his own head and bringing him back into the moment. for a good second, he thinks of just how lucky one man could possibly be.

“go on,” you pat his chest, and his lips flit up into a subtle grin. now more content, adrian scours for it and eventually plucks it off an embroidered chair situated in the corner; only God knows how it got there.

pinched between his index and thumbs, alucard holds up the top, exaggerated sleeves and all, presenting it to you; a simple chestnut colored option that shares the same wood-like hue as the bedpost.

“my twelfth option of the day,” he snidely notes. his sarcasm pries giggle from you. “what do you think, love?”

“it’s quite pretty,” you tilt your head, inspecting the piece with sparkly, concentrated eyes. he admires the way a wispy strand of hair falls along to drape against your face. just precious, he believes.

“it’s a little puffy at the sleeves, though.”

“i knew it,” adrian attests, “this is too . . . flouncy.”

“oh, forget what i said! it’s the perfect amount of flouce.”

“no no, it’s far too much. it’s practically screaming at me.” to that, you chuckle a bit. he can be ever so keen to such minute details.

theatrically, adrian mounts the nearby bed and flops atop the tousled sheets, an exhale leaving the depths of his chest upon impact. “i suppose this is just an ‘only-underwear’ sort of day.” you nearly add that he might as well free himself as a whole and go naked, but the poor man would flush so badly that you choose to refrain.

“you know, adrian,” you scan over his collection, eyeing the finest of silks, puffed shirts and ruffles. his wardrobe practically looks fitting for that of wallachian royalty. “i could make it easy, choose an outfit for you.”

its sudden, how he sits upright and turns to you. his eyes blink just a bit wider, a little slower. alucard’s mouth strikingly quirks upwards in a way that makes you believe he hadn’t been comfortable with the idea— almost as though you’d been meaning to treat him like a child.

“you’d . . . dress me up?”

you retract in the slightest, “only if you’d like. it isn’t a must—”

“please,” he ultimately responds, tone soft and low, “by all means.” it had just been the thought of the sheer intimacy that dazed him. you selecting what would fit him best through your eyes, pulling himself free of his clothes, revealed unto you as you’re dolling him up . . . it all sounds so touching and right now, he wants nothing more.

he can feel palpable relief roll off of you in waves as you beam, “sounds perfect, then.” he calms himself and fixes his countenance, gracing you with a sincere smile. rosy pigment scatters itself upon his face. you catch onto that hopeful glimmer in his eye, one that shows he’s pleased though you can’t quite place it. he’s too softened to say that gratitude has overcome him.

your back is facing him as you rummage around and take your pick, “undress while i put something together, alright?”

“bold request,” adrian characteristically quips. you merely laugh, “you should be bare once i turn around, you hear?”

he hums in acknowledgment, although he opts for tidying up the room first. you can’t see him with your back turned, yet you know he made use of his vampirian speed to grab and fold all his clothes that’d been thrown-askew, including the night attire he’d already been wearing. it amazes you that it only took him a solid eight seconds to complete it all.

“i’m sure that’s convenient,” you muse, turning his way with your selections in hand. alucard’s bare now, adorned in nothing other than his undergarments. a plain and skimpy pair of beige-white breeches shouldn’t excite you so— but god, they hang so low on his hips it’s like they’re barely even there. and how could you possibly ignore the way the cloth clings to his thighs? his arms look strong and coiled like wire, and the chiseled lining of his lean torso is embellished by the fleshy-pink scar that runs past his abdomen all the way up the center of his firm chest.

adrian can only hold your gaze for so long before realizing that you’re drinking him in. consciously, he pivots his head the other way as though to escape it, allowing his lengthy hair to drape down and cover the flushing of his fair cheeks.

you inch up to him, setting the clothes on his bedside. you find his larger hand to interlace with your own, and he only grows redder. there’s an indescribable pride that comes with being capable of riling him up.

“oh, don’t tell me you’re shy,” your hum is sugary like marmalade, “i’ve seen you before . . . you’re beautiful.”

“oh my god,” he whispers, pressing a palm to his heated face. sometimes adrian finds you to be too sweet. he isn’t sure how you haven’t yet succeeded at killing him with all your flattery. he bashfully smiles, cheeks warm as you stand high on your toes to peck them. “you and that mouth of yours.”

“i’ll leave you alone before you overheat,” you tease, halting your affections to return to the task at hand. “you love to toy with me,” he breathes out, and your giggle confirms it. you then display your choices; fitted pants of black leather paired with a warm-tan blouse, one that brings out the shine of his sharp eyes and adds a flush of vitality to his fair skin. interestingly enough, it resembles the color of his golden hair. you’d gone with something similar to his typical style so that he’d feel comfortable wearing it; though you know he’s been rather picky today.

“is it okay?” the way you await his approval makes his heart throb right within his chest. if only you knew that you handpicking anything for him was enough to make him fall in absolute love with it. it had never really been the outfit— he’s sure he just needed you all along.

“more than okay.” he smiles up at you, lips soft and pale-pink. you wonder if you’d end up altering the mood if you leaned down to kiss him. “well chosen, dear.”

“i know just what you like, don’t i?” you sound quite delighted, and it warms him up inside. “but of course. it’s my closet, after all.” the both of you share a knowing laugh that makes you feel so wholesome, so bound. you’ll be sure to commit the feeling to memory.

he then rises to his feet, standing a solid foot above you as he works his way into the bottoms you chose. a pout overtakes you, pretty lips pursed as you whine, “i could’ve done that!”

“you’ll get to fix the blouse. sounds fair, yes?” adrian knows if you were to have worn his pants for him, the hard-on he’d sport would’ve been more than embarrassing. you’ve seen each other vulnerable a good amount of times, and made love even more than what could be counted, but during a moment like this would only sully the mood, he’s sure.

with a hum, you give in. “fine,” your fingers trace against the threading of his shirt, “sit back down for me. you’re too tall for me to dress you from here,” alucard’s always found the contrast in size between the both of you to be endearing, especially whenever you go on to mention it. you’re surprised he decides to choose obedience instead of poking fun. he takes his place upon the bed and makes room for you to settle atop his lap. it’s instinctive, how quickly his hands reach for your waist. he rubs them along the patterning of your corset.

“arms out,” you’re a little less content when his touch leaves you, though you adore how well he listens. you ease the top over his head, onto his arms and finally onto the rest of his frame, tucking away the mussed locks of wavy blonde hair that fall array.

“i’ll brush it out for you later, adri,” you murmur, smoothing down the frizz before bringing your hands to cradle his cheeks. his face looks simply ethereal this close; flawlessly structured, handsome yet elegant. once again, his hands find their rightful place upon your sides. you watch him melt in your very hold when you coo, “my pretty boy.”

he whimpers a lowly call of your name. “thank you . . for all of it.” you know these sort of pocketed moments mean so much to him. his gentle pitch wavers with the subtlest hint of desire; you’d know the sound of it anywhere. still soft-spoken, though the slightest bit deeper. raspier, even. he only reserves such a tone for you.

your response is hushed, just about breathless, “always, adrian.” the pair of you are so close that the straightened tip of his nose grazes against your own. when the tension grows too thick and you can no longer escape his lips reeling you in like magnets, you finally lean into him and let your mouths slot, warmth blooming between you. his lithe fingers roam and you suckle at his bottom lip, prying a soft groan out of him.

alucard kisses you with longing, the span of his fangs subtly clashing against the pearly white of your teeth as he works at prodding his tongue inside, nipping at your lips and tasting of you. he frees out soft, little ‘ i love you ’ amongst all the licking and sucking.

you both wind up toppling down onto the bed, with his back to the mattress and your squished breasts to his heart. making out with a man such as adrian always gets so heavy; you’re panting into each other's mouths, swallowing up the other one’s sounds, and you just can’t seem to help but slowly roll your hips into the stiffness of his crotch. a handful of minutes with him already has you entirely soiled.

“this is becoming something else,” alucard breaks away with a huff, fighting himself not to rip off the clothes you just adorned him in.

but fuck, you aren’t helping. “allow it, then . . .” is your solution, bringing the plush surface of your lips to suckle along his jaw, against the column of his throat, right down his neck . . . no point in refraining now. you eased him of his worries, and he only wants nothing more than to repay you.

“quite a shame, dear.” it truly is— especially considering that you put together such a stylish assortment for him. “now everything must be undone.”

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that-one-girl2020 · 9 days ago

Text

Role Reversal Pt. 7

Saja Boys x Rumi’s Sister! Reader

A/N: I’m so sorry that this one is so late! I tried to write it in time for my 4:30 posting but the characters kept wacking me over the head. This isn’t even proofread so good luck and let me know if there’s any errors. Also, kudos to the anonymous person who suggested the song for role reversal Free!

Synopsis: The boys share their trauma with you. You are not having a great time.

CW: Insecurity, low self esteem, alluding to exclusion, discrimination (?), self mutilation, cursing, etc.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the songs I use in my works.

Word Count: 4.5k

<< Part 6 || Master List || Part 8 >>

(Reminder: Baby = Jum, Romance = Chungae, Mystery = Hyeon, Abby = Kwan)

You didn’t tell the other girls about your meeting with Jinu. It was slightly pointless when you had only learned about Jinu’s weakness, is how you reasoned it to yourself.

You kept your distance from Jinu for a while, instead choosing to work on getting the other four to open up. You tried to forget Jinu’s deal proposal. You tried telling yourself that it wouldn’t work, that you would just be sealed away with all the other demons. What chance was there of you being able to stay when you were a demon twice over.

“What’s on your mind?” Hyeon asks softly, sitting next to you as the two of you ate your soft serve ice cream. He had noticed that you had gotten lost in thought, your hand moving the spoon slower and slower.

You sigh. Tempted to tell him what was going on, just so you could get it off your chest, but you couldn’t. That would just be a disaster all around.

“Nothing,” You answered, “Just… thinking about the Idol Awards coming up.” It was true to an extent.

Hyeon hummed. He was thinking about the Idol Awards more and more often now as well. He couldn’t help but dread the Awards, knowing that it was when the others planned to seal the Honmoon once and for all. What would happen to you when that happened? He felt… worried for you.

Hyeon could admit that he felt worried for you because he had grown fond of you. He didn’t know the extent of that fondness but he knew that he liked you. He liked seeing you smile and laugh. He liked just sitting with you and chatting. He even just liked quietly enjoying your presence. What was that feeling called?

“Yeah, me too…” He trailed off, tilting his head back in thought, his eye peeking out from behind his hair slightly as it shifted. “Do… Do you know what will happen to you afterwards…?”

You didn’t need to ask him to elaborate. You both were observant enough to know that the Awards would be where it all coalesced. The two groups would clash and either Gwi Ma would rise once again or the Honmoon would be sealed.

You were quiet for a moment. “I guess it depends on who wins,” You answered honestly.

He hummed in response. It was about the answer he expected.

“Either way…” You spoke softly, trailing off unsurely. “Either way, hopefully it’ll at least be better than before. Either my memories will be gone or I’ll be gone…”

Hyeon gasped softly and looked at you. You smiled a little self-deprecatingly. “Yeah, that’s the deal I made with Gwi Ma in return for doing this…” He didn’t say anything, just looking at you, studying you.

“All of them?” He asked eventually, his voice quieter than usual.

You nodded, “All my human ones.” When he didn’t say anything, you hesitantly elaborated. “I was born in a small village, me and my sister. For reasons that I could never really understand, we were hated. My sister eventually left the village and me behind, searching for a place for herself. Even after making a deal with Gwi Ma to fit in better, to look the part, no one was able to love me for who I was… That’s why I want them gone.” You couldn’t help the tear that escaped your eye, your throat feeling tight. Your hands twitched with the itch to scratch at your arms, a bad habit from centuries ago.

You stilled when a hand rested atop yours.

“I understand,” Hyeon stated. You couldn’t help but look at him a little dubiously. Sure he was a little unique in comparison to other people but normal was boring. “People used to flock to me because of my appearance, they said I was gifted with ethereal beauty. But it was too much for me, I couldn’t tell when people liked me for me or if they were just seeing my face. So I withdrew from the world. Even my parents used me, forcing me to model day after day. So I was glad when the Hunters scouted me but they weren’t very happy when I started covering my face…”

You couldn’t help but rest your other hand over his, your ice cream cup discarded to the side. Words left your lips without permission, softened by the vulnerable air around you two, “I think you’re beautiful, Hyeon. Because you’re kind and observant and you have… a beautiful soul.” You couldn’t help but flush at your own words, scolding yourself.

Hyeon was shocked by your words. No one had ever said anything like that to him before. He felt seen in a way that made him feel exposed. It made him a little scared, but he also couldn’t help but want more of it. So he smiled. “I think you have a beautiful soul too,” He responded simply.

You frowned. You hadn’t had a soul in a long time, if you ever even had one to begin with. Still, you smiled at him, “Thanks Hyeon.” You took a deep breath, standing, “I should go. Before the girls realize I’ve been gone too long…” It was just an excuse. You just wanted away from this vulnerable, safe spot otherwise you would keep talking and never stop.

“Oh,” Hyeon voiced. He could tell that your frame had shifted, less open. You were closing yourself off and it sent a spike of hurt through his chest. But he could understand that you probably felt a little overwhelmed. “See you soon?”

You couldn’t help but smile, “Yeah. See you around.”

You walked away without looking back so Hyeon couldn’t see the frown on your face. And you couldn’t see how he watched after you with worry.

~~~

Kwan was next.

Guilt and shame coiled tighter and tighter inside you as you opened yourself up to these boys, drawing them in with your vulnerabilities like the sticky nectar on the tentacles of a carnivorous sundew. They just didn’t know that the tentacles were curling around them one by one already.

Kwan and you had taken to meeting at the night market at least once a week, just to eat. And bicker. Mostly bicker.

Kwan didn’t know why he kept meeting with you. You were a demon and he was a Hunter. Maybe it was because he empathized with you being judged for your appearance like he used to be as well. But it could also be because of the way you would try any food he put before you at least once. Your eyes would light up and you would hum at the flavor or your eyes would narrow and you would grimace. He looked forward to the time he spent with you. Time where he was just Kwan and nothing else, where he could laugh boisterously, smirk dangerously, and speak sharply and you would just laugh along, roll your eyes, and trade back barbs just as sharply.

However, tonight, there was none of that.

“Kwan,” he looked up when you spoke. You were mindlessly stirring the cup of soup in front of you. “Do you think I deserve to die?”

“Oh. Well shit.”

“Eloquent.”

Kwan quickly shook his head. “Sorry, sorry. You just surprised me,” Kwan tried to quickly process what you had asked him and try to come up with an answer. “Uhm, what brought this up?”

You shrugged, your brows furrowed as you gazed into your soup, “I don’t know, I guess the Idol Awards.”

“Right…” Kwan drawled, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. “Look, I don’t think anyone deserves to die. Especially not you.”

“Even demons?” You can’t help but ask, looking up at him pointedly.

He sighed, “Look, I was wrong, okay? I didn’t have all the information, I was just doing what I was taught, thinking what I was told to think. But… I don’t think I would’ve chosen differently than you did.”

You looked up at him in confusion. “What do you mean?” Was this it. You wanted to reach across the table and cover his mouth. Tell him that he shouldn’t tell you. Shouldn’t trust you. But you didn’t.

Kwan took a deep breath, “I got judged a lot for my appearance too. After my folks passed, I was passed around the system and no one wanted me. Said I looked too rough, said that I was a delinquent. I was too big, too mean looking. Sometimes I felt like it would be easier to be the beast they all saw but I didn’t give them the luxury of being right. Dancing was the only respite I had. Then the Hunters recruited me. If they hadn’t, I don’t know what I would’ve done, who I would’ve become…” He told you truthfully. It was nice to get it off his chest. To finally say the words aloud. He felt more settled in himself, knowing that there was someone that could relate to his past.

You swallowed harshly. Your fists clenched under the table. Internally you despaired that the boys were trusting you too easily. You wanted to protect them from yourself, from the demon in your head.

For now, you just looked at him and reached across the table to rest your hand on his own clenched fist. He looked up and something in your eyes made him relax, his shoulders lowering. For now, you could just listen and be there for them.

He took a deep breath, “Anyway, no, I don’t think you deserve to die. I think you deserve to live, (Y/n).”

Something tight unwound just a little bit inside you. “Thanks Kwan.”

He smiled, and the two of you continued eating.

~~~

The truth boiled at your lips, begging and pleading to be spilled to these boys who had become a safe place for you. Two more and your mission would be complete, the next time you would see them was during Gwi Ma’s victory at the Idol Awards. Just two more and you could forget, you could forget your human memories and perhaps you could forget them too.

You found Chungae at the same park, at the same bench as always. He was people watching as he usually did but he didn’t look so envious anymore. Whatever he thought that others had that he didn’t, it seemed like he was starting to find it himself. You brought a flower from a flower shop this time so you didn’t risk getting in trouble with the park workers.

“Hey,” You greeted him, leaning over the back of the bench to offer the flower to him. He smiled, taking it from you and you circled the bench to sit next to him.

“What’s this one mean?” He asked curiously. You had taken to looking up random flower meanings and giving them to him, sometimes leaving him to figure it out for himself. Modern flower languages were much different than the language from centuries ago.

You glance at the snapdragon, “Grace and strength,” you tell him. Not really a lie, just not the full truth. “According to the girl at the shop anyway,” you shrug.

He hums, twirling the stem, “Nice.” Chungae can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips as he looks at the flower. It was another to add to his small collection. Every time he received a flower from you, his heart skipped a beat in his chest—a foreign feeling that he hadn’t felt before he started talking to you. It went against all his training and lessons, but he couldn’t muster any care for the rules he was taught.

“Any interesting people today?” You ask him, looking around the park curiously. It seemed like the usual people, the usual stories of happy families, mundane days, and content lives.

Chungae shrugs, “I haven’t been paying much attention,” he admits.

You hum. “Then you found what you don’t have?”

“Maybe,” is all he says. You two sit there for a moment, just observing the world move around your quiet little corner of the world. “(Y/n), why do you people watch?” Chungae remembers how you had asked him that when you first met at the park, but after spending time with you he had realized that you weren’t new to people watching.

You were hoping to avoid the emotional talk but it seemed like you couldn’t no matter which man you spent time with. “I’ve been doing it for a long time, even when I was human. It started as me just being curious, wondering why everyone was so… kind to each other when no one was ever kind to me. I tried to see what was so different about me. But then, after I became a demon, I started sneaking from the demon realm when I could to watch the times change, to watch the people going about their lives, living normally. I suppose I people watch to see what I didn’t and couldn’t have.”

Stop talking. Don’t open up. Move on, don’t let him speak his own honesty.

But it was so nice to share these small bits of yourself with these men, with these people that just accepted the little shards with open hands and gentle fingers.

Chungae was surprised by how much he could understand your reasoning. “That’s why I do it too.” It was too late, the words were in the air and neither of you could stop them. “I grew up with my matchmaker relatives, but they never really showed me any care. I could see the familial, platonic, and romantic love around me but I never experienced it for myself—not from my family, not from friends, not from anyone really. The guys are the first friends I ever had.” He gave a self deprecating snort, “That’s kind of why I started obsessing over social media. It’s also how the Hunters recruited me.”

But the funny thing was that in the time he spent with you, he never got the urge to check his socials. Not once.

You chuckled, leaning your head on his shoulder, “What a pair of losers we are, huh?” You tried to comfort him with humor.

Chungae laughed too, “You’re. A. Loser, Baby~”

You had no idea what he was referencing but you smacked his shoulder, the both of you laughing as he pulled out his phone to show you a video.

For now, things were alright.

But, then again, snapdragons could also mean deception and hidden intentions.

~~~

Jum was harder to get time with, not that you were really complaining about it. The Idol Awards were creeping closer and the other girls were getting more antsy. There was a rough outline for a plan, but the final pieces were needed in order to complete it. Gwi Ma hadn’t summoned you all in a whirlwind of fury and anger that no progress had been made though which meant that he knew of your progress. It made your skin itch with the need to scratch your claws into it.

Jum found you this time. You had gone to the convenience store for some chocolate. Surprisingly, it had become a comfort snack after you had tried it. But you could only have a few pieces at a time or you would have a major sugar crash.

“Hey.” You startled when you heard the maknae’s voice, looking up to see him casually scanning the shelves next to you.

“Hey, Jum,” You greeted him.

He continued looking at the shelves so you went back to looking for your chocolate. Oh, there it is, right in front of you. You grabbed it, awkwardly glancing at Jum. He didn’t seem to care as he grabbed the candy he was looking for and walked away.

“Come on.”

You hurried after him, “Oh, okay, I’m coming with you now, I guess…” You both got drinks, paid and left the store. You quietly walked next to him until you eventually broke the silence, “Did you have something you wanted to talk about…?”

He was quiet for a moment, thoughtful. “The Idol Awards are coming up.”

“Yeah…?”

“And we’re gonna perform the diss track.”

“Okay…?”

“I don’t want to perform the diss track.”

“Oh.” You blinked, unsure of what you were supposed to say in response to that. You didn’t really want to hear the diss track, a song all about how demons deserved to die probably. “Are you going to tell the others?”

He shrugged, “I tried. Everyone was a little conflicted, we started arguing about how everyone’s been so weird lately.”

It was because of you you were sure. “Oh.”

Jum sighed, throwing his head back and rubbing his face, “I’m just so tired of not being listened to. Like, my opinions and my ideas don’t matter because I’m the youngest and I have this fucking baby face. In fact, I’m scared that I’ll never be taken seriously, never be heard.”

You frowned, resting your hand on his shoulder, “Hey, I hear you Jum. I’m taking you seriously.” The two of you have come to a stop, leaning against the brick wall of a random building. “No one ever listens to me either.”

Jum looked at you so you sighed and continued, “Everyone always leaves me behind, I get swept into the background. I’m rarely seen or heard unless someone needs something from me, so I get it…”

Jum intertwines your fingers, holding your hand with his. The tight feeling constricting his chest ever since that morning was finally unwinding now that he was with you. “Hey,” he nudged your shoulder. “I won’t leave you behind if you take me seriously?”

You chuckled, squeezing his hand, “Deal.”

It was nice, for once, to have someone who wouldn’t leave you behind. But it wasn’t the first time you had been promised that. There was still that little spark in your chest that hoped that this time would be different though.

~~~

All the pieces had fallen into place. You didn’t tell the girls yet though. The Idol Awards were tomorrow and you, to put it eloquently, felt like shit. These guys had opened themselves up to you and you were going to throw it back in their faces.

You couldn’t get Jinu’s deal out of your head, his earnest hope for you that you would get to live after all of this. That you would actually get to experience life. So, you decided to meet with him one last time.

The sun was past set but there was still a faint glow of color lingering in the sky. You had sent Arson and Sprite to lead him to where you were waiting, lost in thought. You would keep it short and simple, just tell him that you couldn’t do it. Then you would leave and hopefully not see the guys after.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Arson nudging against you insistently, so you chuckled and scratched his favorite spot behind the ear, making him pant happily as his tongue lolled out.

“How did you end up with these two, anyway?” Jinu asked as he joined you.

You shrugged, “I don’t know, how did you end up with a hundred tiny hats in your closet?”

“Fair enough,” Jinu agreed and the two of you chuckled. “Have you thought about my deal?” Jinu asked slowly. He really hoped that you would agree. He wanted to show you that there was more to life than what had led to you making a deal with Gwi Ma.

You pushed off of the wall, “I’m sorry Jinu, but my hands are tied. I can’t help you.” You crossed your arms, hugging yourself as you avoided his gaze.

Jinu blinked, “Wait, what? What do you mean?” He asked, his shoulders sagging.

“Look, I’ve been betrayed a lot in life. I can’t risk it,” You tried to reason with him.

Jinu shook his head, taking your wrist as you tried to walk away. “(Y/n), you think I’ll betray you? You’d rather continue serving Gwi Ma than helping me and living afterwards?”

You shook his hand off, “You don’t know that’s what’ll happen Jinu, I could get sealed away just like the others. So yeah, I can’t do it. My hands are tied. Why would you try to save me anyway.”

You start walking away, holding yourself together with your arms around your middle. You stop when you hear his voice.

“You know I want you~ It's not a secret I try to hide~ I know you want me~ So don't keep sayin' our hands are tied~ You claim it's not in the cards~ And fate is pulling you miles away and out of reach from me~ But you're here in my heart~ So who can stop me if I decide that you're my destiny?~”

You didn’t face him but you could hear him getting closer and closer. Your heart was pounding. He didn’t make you look at him, he just circled around you, bending down to meet your eyes. Then he took your hands in his.

“What if we rewrite the stars?~ Say you were made to be mine?~ Nothing could keep us apart~ You'd be the one I was meant to find~ It's up to you and it's up to me~ No one can say what we get to be~ So why don't we rewrite the stars?~ Maybe the world could be ours tonight~”

It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t being fair. How could he say all these things when you hadn’t even told him the full truth, you hadn’t told any of them the full truth. But as his voice rose, the whispers in your head quieted and you felt peace and safety and comfort. It wasn’t fair.

You pulled your hands from his, walking away to get some distance between the two of you before turning to face him.

“You think it's easy?~ You think I don't want to run to you?~ But there are mountains~ And there are doors that we can't walk through~ I know you're wonderin' why~ Because we're able to be just you and me within these walls~ But when we go outside~ You're gonna wake up and see that it was hopeless after all~”

When Jinu tried to follow you, you teleported up to the rooftops, looking down at him as he leapt after you, climbing the building swiftly. You jumped away, landing on another roof. You ducked behind chimneys and windows, your voice sounding around the night as you hid from him.

“No one can rewrite the stars~ How can you say you'll be mine?~ Everything keeps us apart~ And I'm not the one you were meant to find~ It's not up to you, it's not up to me~ When everyone tells us what we can be~ How can we rewrite the stars?~ Say that the world can be ours tonight~”

You looked around a corner to see where he was, but then he was right there, his arms on your hips, looking into your eyes. You pulled away, turning to jump to another roof when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to him, spinning you into his arms. You swiped at him, and he ducked. The two of you began a dance of you trying to get away and him only pulling you closer.

“All I want is to fly with you~ All I want is to fall with you~ So just give me all of you~”

“It feels impossible~” You argued to him.

“It's not impossible~” Jinu answered.

“Is it impossible?~”

“Say that it's possible~”

Just for a moment, just a brief moment, you dared to dream of what it could be if you agreed. If you just gave in.

“How do we rewrite the stars?~ Say you were made to be mine~ Nothing can keep us apart~ 'Cause you are the one I was meant to find~ It's up to you and it's up to me~ No one can say what we get to be~ Why don't we rewrite the stars?~ Changin' the world to be ours~”

The two of you stopped, on the edge of a roof, the city lights glowing out just beyond you. You were face to face, your chests heaving for breath, just looking at each other. It was everything you couldn’t have.

“You know I want you~ It's not a secret I try to hide~ But I can't have you~ We're bound to break and my hands are tie~”

You walked away, making your way back to where you left Arson and Sprite. “Wait!” Jinu called after you. You jumped down and you heard him follow, landing softly. “Even after all that, you won’t do it?”

You stilled, not turning to look at him. Softly, you admitted, “I’m scared…”

Because you were terrified. If you sabotaged Gwi Ma and the girls’ plan, what would happen to you. And if the boys succeeded in sealing the Honmoon and you ended up on the other side, Gwi Ma would kill you or worse, damn you to your memories for the rest of eternity.

Jinu’s face softened, taking your hand in his gently, “But isn’t it worth it to be brave? I know you’re strong, (Y/n), much stronger than I am. I want you to have another chance at life. Please, (Y/n).” Jinu pleaded with you, turning you to look at him so you could see the honesty in his eyes.

You dared to hope.

“Okay…” You nodded slowly. “I’ll make sure Huntr/x won’t win tomorrow.”

Jinu smiled, gentle, “Then we can all be happy. Thank you, for trusting me, (Y/n).”

“Just… just please don’t leave me behind,” You looked up at him. You felt like an open wound. Like a hurt animal having to trust the kind hand reaching out to it.

His face steeled, “I promise.” He pressed a kiss softly to your forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He started walking away. And the truth roiled at your lips, beginning to leak out, “Jinu,” You called after him. You should tell him. Tell him before he put all of his faith in a demon that could never be loved. A creature born without a soul. But then he would leave you. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

“If you’re sure,” Jinu double checked.

“Yeah.”

He flashed you a smile and walked away. You watched him go, hope glowing dimly in your heart.

But you had forgotten. For just a moment, you had forgotten.

Blood roared in your ears, the whispers growing louder with a vengeance after having been ignored, your patterns flaring a deep purple and you suddenly fell backwards, landing on stone with a grunt, looking up at a dark sky streaked with souls.

The girls were there, stone faced. “What’s going on?”

Zoey grimaced lightly, whispering, “Turn around…”

You stood, turning. Gwi Ma burned higher than he had for centuries, “It’s funny, I thought for a moment that you believed you could be free.” Gwi Ma laughed, his flames flaring brighter with every chortle.

You grimaced, “Yeah, funny…”

“Because, if you really believed him, if you really thought that you could be free, then you would have told them the truth.”

You fell to your knees, your hands clasped uselessly over your ears as you descended into your memories.

A/N: Carnivorous plants are really cool to me, like the Venus fly trap, sundew, pitcher plant, there’s even a flower that smells like rotting meat to draw flies in. Anyways, sorry again that I’m so off schedule! I also didn’t try as hard for these outtakes because I didn’t wanna make the post any later than it already is.

Outtakes:

Saja Boys: *one by one returning to the tower emotionally drained*

Also the Saja Boys: *Not saying anything about it because you are their emotional support demon*

…

Polytr/x: “So…we’re not gonna do anything about this…?”

You: *conflicted between wanting to complete your mission and not wanting to feel like a piece of manipulative shit* “What do I do…”

Gwi Ma: *King of emotional manipulation and blackmail* “I can do something about this.”

Polytr/x: “Uhhh…”

…

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