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#//and how it also affects the people around him
yanderenightmare · 2 days
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TW: nsfw, omegaverse, poly
gn reader
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Thinking about Betas and how lost they are navigating the world of Alphas and Omegas. Betas, with no second gender and none of those primal instincts, who has to listen to all this mating and bonding drama without ever participating in any of it. Betas, who often find Omegas cute and Alphas hot but who feel kind of left out of the running. Betas who make great clueless friends…
“So, do you like—take suppressants for your heats or?” he asks during lunch.
You knew it was coming. You’d just had a special guest lecture about heats and ruts, and all your friends, the entire two of them, were both betas—so it was mostly all new to them.
“Dude! That’s so personal!” your other friend berates, jabbing his side and casting him a glare before throwing you an apologetic smile on both of their behalf. But you could tell he was burning with the same curiosity, he was just polite enough to look it up on his phone instead.
“M’sorry, but teach didn’t explain it well,” he apologizes while rubbing his side clear of the definite bruise left there. “Like…” He almost pouts, picking at his lunch. “What do heats actually do? Like—does it compel Alphas to—uhm… have sex with you? Or?”
“Dude!” the other all but shrieks.
“It’s fine,” you declare with a little laugh. Though it’s true what he says that it’s personal, you wouldn’t really mind disclosing some of the basics. Especially if it meant killing off a few rumors.
Though you regret it a bit once both of them end up staring at you wide-eyed and waiting.
“Uhm…” You swallow thickly—you didn’t realize it was that interesting. “So, it’s really… just a faint scent that’s caused by pheromones.” They don’t even blink as they listen, lunches all but forgotten in front of them. “All it really does is let people know when I’m—or an Omega—uhm… is most fertile.”
“Right…” One of them nods respectfully.
But the other, as usual, has more questions to ask. “So why take suppressants if that’s all it is?”
You blush. “Well, it’s kinda embarrassing to walk around letting people know such a thing…” That’s half of it. “But, uhm… well—heats don’t affect others more than it affects Omegas themselves. It’s kinda like… having a fever—but also having swallowed a lot of cough syrup. And well…” You’re really blushing now. Lowering your voice almost to a whisper. “There’s the horny aspect of it too.”
The other two blush as well. The more mature one had gone silent a while ago, but even so, it didn’t stop the other from continuing. “So, like a drug then?”
That wasn’t the worst way of putting it, so you nodded. “I guess you could say that.”
He smiles then, widely. “Sounds kinda fun!”
And the other jabs his side once more. “Dude, shut up already.” 
You didn’t think a Beta could ever do the job of an Alpha—but lucky you had two of them.
You have one of them in your mouth, suckling sweetly, hooded eyes glossy with your heat, looking up at him—your well-mannered Beta friend who barely dares touch you but is absolutely falling apart by the way your tongue swirls around his shaft, trailing veins as you take him as far back as your uvula. He’s biting his lip hard, keeping it tucked so as not to moan out the way his friend is.
He isn’t afraid to touch—or he couldn’t hold back even if he were. He’s squeezing the fat of your haunches hard enough to leave bruises, keeping you in place as he pounds you hard from behind. Unabashed groans and moans leave him, along with the slick squelches of your hole soaking and sucking him in.
“Fu-uck, can’t believe it—it’s so fucking wet—” He’s drooling and sweating, eyes misty and glued to the sight of where he’s drilling the juice out of you. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen. Not that he has too much experience, but he’s never wanted to cum so badly in his entire life. “You’re so tight—squeezing me so hard!” he rambles while continuing his downright desperate pace.
“Shut up…” the other mutters under his breath but doesn’t take his eyes off you. You’re bewitching him with your gaze—round doe-eyes, blown wide with pleasure. He wonders if you even know what’s happening or if it’ll be like a blacked-out hangover in the morning. He ought to have asked more questions when he could. But he can’t seem to bring himself to care. In any case, you seem to be loving the taste of his pre, and the thought is making every part of his body buzz with warmth. You’ll probably drink his cum with the way you’re drooling and mewing around him.
It nearly brings them both to tears—it’s like the wettest dream come true as they both fill you up—one deep into your womb as he bottoms out tightly and the other down your throat with your lips wrapped all the way down at the base.
They both collapse afterward. One lies on his back and the other on his stomach—bodies stippled with sweat—both heaving.
You pout, looking at them. They must be out of their minds if they think that’s all it takes. You straddle the one on his back, both your hands around his softening dick, rubbing it back into hardness.
“Hey, hey, hey—hey, wait!” he stammers, shooting up and stopping you—both hands wrapping around your wrist to try and pry you off without prying his dick off while at it.
“No!” you whine. “Not done.”
The look in your eyes is sore enough to make any man fall to his knees.
“Please? I need more… please give me more…”
If he was blushing before, he’s full feverish now. Panning from your pouty face riddled with desperation down at his fellow Beta friend who looks back up at him with a similar expression.
We're in trouble.
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BNHA – ShinKami, KiriKami, KamiSero, KiriBaku, DabiHawks, TodoDeku
JJK – SatoSugu, ItaFushi
HQ – Miya twins, KageHina, BokuAka,
CSM – AkiDen
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erodasfishtacos · 1 day
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steer clear - roommates!abo pt 2
summary: and they were roommates… word count: 6k an: more parts up on my patreon and they are next to be updated.
you can subscribe for $3USD here and get access to 350+ exclusive writings & I update every one to three days !
this is a follow up to this +++ YN will fully blame her pre-heat, looking back at the events of the morning.
She cannot believe that she walked around an angry alpha barely dressed, taunted him, and casually bared her neck.
It was starting to worry her that she didn’t put enough consideration into the idea of how her alpha roommate would affect her heat disorder.
YN was only a week and a half into her month of preheat but she feels like the symptoms were stronger now that his rich, deep scent lingered on every inch of the apartment.
She truly despised this knothead, know it all alpha.
YN also desperately wants to be held tightly in his arms.
She needed a nap.
++
YN decides that she needs a night out with Niall.
She breaks her own cardinal rule of not drinking during preheat because of the way she acts.
YN’s become aggressive in the past, not necessarily physically but just like how she gets during heat, she almost becomes a feral, wild creature like their ancestors instead of the normal, calm, sweet girl she was.
Niall wouldn’t have agreed to go out with her or at least offered her shots if he knew that she was in pre-heat so she purposefully failed to mention that was one of the reasons she had been so stressed out recently.
The bar is fine, it’s not crowded because it’s a work night.
Niall didn’t care if he had work the next morning, he was always down for a good time and swore that he’s not once experienced a hangover.
By the time that Niall has walked YN to the hallway of her apartment, he watches from near the elevator to make sure that she unlocks the door and gets inside safely before he turns to get back in the lift to go home.
YN wasn’t as drunk as she was at the bar but she would still deem that she was over the line of being buzzed as she shut the door a bit too harshly before fumbling to lock it with a bit of a struggle.
It takes her a moment, as she rests her hand up against the wall to unstrap her heels to realize that there are new scents in their apartment.
Not only that but a distinct semi-sweet scent of an omega, who YN doesn’t recognize by scent nor wants it her home, let alone the other betas.
The film of fury starts to develop over her vision, only exaggerated by the tequila still pumping through her veins and altering her state of mind, on top of the hormonal changes as her body shifts to go through her cycle.
When she steps further into the apartment, YN spots a small group of people in the living room with drinks, snacks, and everything swiped from her coffee table.
It was nicely stacked and set aside near the television but all YN could see was that her safe space had been fucked with.
She couldn’t even smell Harry that well with everybody in the mix and that triggered her even more into a sense of insecurity.
Though logically YN wouldn’t call Harry her alpha, her omega has already identified him as hers or at least a potential alpha for her for heat, and the fact that his scent was not currently oozing through every inch of their living space was alarming.
They were playing a somewhat complex looking board game that YN had never seen before, all laughing and joking easily, having a good time.
YN focuses on the omega instantly.
She’s has thick-framed glasses that took up most of her face, tangled curls thrown into a messy bun, and tattoos that covered nearly every inch of visible skin.
Her scent was mediocre at best, at least to YN’s nose, and though this girl had never done anything to her - YN already felt a strong sense of anger and jealously that she even had the audacity to step into her apartment, her safety from the world.
The omega wasn’t even sitting near Harry.
Harry had two betas on either side of him, their shoulders bumping casually from trying to squeeze in around their coffee table but any physical contact with her alpha- with Harry was just completely unacceptable right now
Everyone’s eyes dart up to YN, most of them have friendly smiles on their faces.
YN realizes that Harry had been smiling and it had really been the first time she had seen that from him, he surprisingly enough had dimples.
However, when he looks up from his stack of cards, the smile fades into something stormier, something she was much more used to seeing.
YN vision feels blurry for a moment, blinking harshly, and desperately trying to simmer the rage that was starting to boil over.
When the omega slips her glasses up into her hair, she leans over to hand Harry a card from her deck, and she whispers something low enough YN can’t hear.
If she was in her right mind, she would realize that it had something to do with the game that they were playing but it felt like a threat.
YN’s voice is tight, shaking because she wants to get physical but knows she can’t, knows it’s not right but she’s never gotten this hostile before.
“Get out of my house,” YN hisses and even though it’s directly at everyone, her eyes are glued onto the omega who rightfully looks startled.
Harry stands up, chest puffed and shoulders as broad as possible, and looking a hundred thousand percent like the alpha of her dreams.
“YN,” His voice is firm, not quite at an alpha timbre but not too far off, he sensed the true threat, and realized this could go very bad.
“Get the fuck out of my house!” YN screeched louder, her chest was heaving and she knew her eyes were wide and erratic as they darted around to keep an eye on every person in her house.
“Hey,” Harry’s voice warns, stepping out of the group and closer to her, “I will have everyone leave but you’re not going to be aggressive like this. They’re not doing anything to endanger you.”
YN bares her teeth at him, upset that he’s not protecting her safe space for her.
How could he not see that they’re ruining everything?
“Get them out!” YN waves her hand toward the door sharply, kicking a pair of shoes in their vicinity for good measure.
“Settle down now,” Harry booms louder, finally in his alpha tone, and it’s something that quite literally flips a switch in her mind to obey.
YN blinks at him, suddenly feeling heavy like there were weights in her limbs as she stills snarls but doesn’t emit any noises further towards the guests.
The anger dissipates and is fully replaced with despair.
It’s not something that has ever happened before but then again, this was the first time that she had ever had an alpha in her life.
YN doesn’t melt though, not when Harry wraps his fingers securely around her wrist, and tells his friends, “I’m going to take her back to her bedroom. See yourselves out. I’ll contact you all in the morning to reschedule.”
YN doesn’t want to go to her room until they’re fully out of her house but when she hesitates in the entryway, Harry tugs at her, still gruff and alpha when he snaps, “Let’s go, now.”
She follows, albeit unwillingly and still fucking too buzzed to fully process anything that was going on in these last minutes.
Harry opens her bedroom door, nostrils flaring whether it’s from his disdain for her scent or just agitation - most likely a mixture of most
“Stay here until I say so,” Harry demands, in his typical bossy alpha way as he nudges her into her now open bedroom door.
“It’s my apartment,” YN nearly growled at him, eyes narrowed.
“It is also my apartment as well,” Harry points out, calm and emotionless as ever, “And you acting like a feral, unregulated little pup isn’t going to fly with me.”
YN feels like it’s an insult to her value as an omega.
It makes her want to shrink and become unreasonably small.
She already felt that way compared to him.
When Harry moves to shut her door as he leaves, she can’t help but bite out, “Knothead.”
Harry shakes his head in annoyance but only reminds her once more, “Stay here.”
YN ignores him, after he shuts the door, YN decides it’s time to change out of her form-fitting outfit and into something much more comfortable.
All she can think about though is that the feeling that her apartment, her safe space for her head, has been disturbed, and she’s going to have to fix it or she won’t be able to sleep.
She didn’t get a good enough look to know what’s out of place or not but she can guess things were moved around and touched.
YN changes into a soft pajama shorts and a cropped tee, nearly bouncing on her feet for the confirmation that all of the intruders have left her house.
If she wasn’t buzzed and in pre-heat in the presence of the first alpha she’d ever really known, she would have probably joined in the game or conversation.
All bets were off during the lead up to her cycle.
Once the door cracks open, Harry doesn’t peek his head in or anything but simply rumbles, “Everyone is gone.”
He doesn’t say anything else before she can hear him walking the few steps to his bedroom and shutting the door harshly.
YN feels like a live wire is in her veins as she exits her bedroom, eyes trying to go everywhere at once but instantly focus in on the game that’s still laid out on the coffee table.
She doesn’t care in that moment that she might be messing things up as she starts to shuffle all the pieces back into the box with a bit of unnecessary urgency.
But before she even gets half-way done with that, she realizes that someone has moved Beatrice’s box of toys to the wrong corner of the room.
Her little metallic crinkle balls, her fish on a string, all of them were splayed out over the floor, and not nicely tucked away as YN had left them.
Then she realizes that the visitors had been using her throw blankets which means they automatically had to get rewashed first thing tomorrow.
YN threw the three blankets in a pile near the entryway, she didn’t even realize that there were tears streaming down her cheeks instantly.
Harry pads back down the hallway as she is re-entering the living room, that same annoying scowl on his face, and tense body language.
“You don’t have to prove this point to me. I would have cleaned all these things up once you went to sleep,” Harry huffs out as YN moves a chair back to its original place at her dining room table.
YN isn’t proving a point though
She’s trying to fix her safe space that he had so carelessly destroyed.
Harry moves towards the coffee table to clean up the rest of the board game but YN snaps at him first.
“You already disrupted enough! Let me clean this up! Don’t touch anything else!” YN is half yelling, half begging at this point.
“Why are you being so fuckin’ difficult with me? Ever since you walked in the front door,” Harry throws his arms up, “Is it because I had people over without asking? I didn’t know I needed your permission.”
His tone is triggering, his stance, his scent.
YN was starting to think that there has been great reasons now to steer clear of stupid fucking alphas. YN bristles at him because there’s something about the way he’s acting that makes her skin itchy.
He was the alpha, she was the omega.
They’ve established that and he should know that this isn’t normal for any omega without some type of disorder.
YN wonders if Harry has any mate-like instincts or if he truly is unbothered by the way she acts because he doesn’t give an ounce of care about her.
She decides the best thing she can do right now is ignore him completely as she continues to tuck the decorative pillows back in their spots.
Harry is waiting for a response but realizes after a moment of heavy silence that he wasn’t going to be receiving one from her.
“If it was an issue, I am not a fuckin’ mind reader,” Harry continues on, volume loud enough that it pricks at her ears sharply, “If there was a problem with it, you need to be an adult and communicate.”
YN drops the pillow she was just about to place, eyes burning near fire as she snarls at him, loudly and frustrated now.
“I did tell you!” YN raises her voice, vocal cords straining because yelling for her was a rare occurrence that almost never happened, “You should have have some fucking alpha instincts or is there just too much testosterone in you to have common sense?”
Harry growls louder than before, at the insult of his secondary gender, no alpha wanted to be questioned on their abilities.
YN keeps on before he can respond, “I have been in pre-heat for the last week and a half. You knew that! You knew that I was struggling to sleep, feeling restless, and upset. Did you not?”
Harry’s jaw twitches, his throat bobbing as he swallows, his eyes darting guilty to the side for a moment before focusing back on her, “I did.”
“You knew I’m struggling through my pre-heat and you brought a group of people here? Unfamiliar people? An omega in my home?” YN breaks down, the rage leaving her body and tears flooding in instead.
The tension in Harry’s body starts to fade as he realizes what he’s done and he has the decency to look properly remorseful as she cries.
“My safe space doesn’t feel safe anymore,” YN sniffles as she pulls the collar of her shirt to cover her face, her vulnerability as she sobs, “You took away my safe space then yelled at me for being upset about it.”
“YN, I -“ Harry begins, his tone had softened ten-fold and his shoulders were relaxed, chest not as puffed up and intimidating.
YN shakes her head, wiping her eyes with the fabric before letting it drop again, “I need to go to my room. I need to be in my nest unless you’ve invited them to lay in there too?”
It was rhetorical and she didn’t give him a chance to reply either way as she storms passed him, avoiding his shoulder just barely to get to her room.
YN shuts her bedroom door, making sure that he can hear the lock distinctly as a warning, and relieve floods through her when she looks at her bed.
Her nest is perfectly as she left it if Beatrice was curled up to the left corner, and probably had been the whole time the group of people were here.
She had already been in her room when Harry marched her in here but she had been so frazzled that she could only think about getting out there to clean, not a thought to her nest.
Beatrice was the friendliest cat once she warmed up but until then she was anxious and tended to tuck herself somewhere away from noise.
YN’s already dressed for bed and readily crawls into her nest to bunker down under the layers of soft blankets and comfy sweaters.
She hates that it reaches underneath her pillow for Harry’s shirt that still had a decent amount of his rich scent on it to make her feel warm and fuzzy in a different way.
YN’s mind starts to wander, when he brought her back here, did he look at her nest?
Alphas should know that it is highly disrespectful and inappropriate to view an omega’s nest without their expressed consent and permission.
However, Harry was the rudest, most off-putting alpha that has ever walked the face of the earth which leaves her anxious that he did look.
If YN would have known that Harry would see it, she would have spent hours building a much prettier one, more constructed, bigger.
Her pre-heat and heat nests however were more about comfort than ability and appearance.
They were sloppy, hastily put together, and usually a wreck from how much YN tossed and turned in her sleep during these times.
YN surprisingly sleeps well once again because of her nose being tucked into a fabric carrying the most delicious scent she had ever smelled.
But she wakes up earlier than usual, especially because she was off work for the rest of the week because of the issues at their office and it was Tuesday.
She should be sleeping in.
YN doesn’t forget that Harry gets up earlier than her by a long shot and is out the door by the time her alarm goes off but she checks her clock.
She staggers to her door, moving to unlock the knob but when she glances down she notices her door is already unlocked.
YN doesn’t remember getting up at any point but with how much alcohol she had consumed the night before, she wouldn’t be surprised if she had gotten up to pee.
YN is dreading walking into the hallway to be met with the disappointing smell of all the random betas that had been over here.
Worst of all, the omega who’s scent would likely linger, and be more sensitive to her nose because of the insinuated threat of competition.
However, when she steps out, most of the lights are still off and it’s still completely dark outside which makes the dim lamp in the living room give some illumination.
YN doesn’t smell anything but Harry.
Like insanely, all encompassing Harry.
It was the best thing she’s ever woken up to.
When she pads into the main area, she notices that the apartment is a hundred percent back to normal, everything rearranged perfectly.
Not only that but it was even more spotless than before.
Most importantly, Harry must have rescented the whole apartment and marked it as his territory which maybe should make YN mad but it just brings her back to the feelings of being safe.
YN is blinking rapidly, eyes watering from relief as she runs her hand across a neatly folded throw blanket on the back of her couch.
It takes her a minute to realize it hasn’t just been scented but washed completely along with the other blankets that were tucked neatly into their basket by the couch.
“I should have asked before I marked the entire apartment. My…alpha went into a bit of overdrive after our conversation last night,” Harry’s voice interrupts the silence from the kitchen, it was low enough that it didn’t make her jump.
YN turns her head to look at him, he’s dressed in gym gear with a loose fitting black tee that doesn’t do justice to his defined body shape, mid thigh black running shorts, and black tennis shoes with crew socks.
He looked big, intimidating, and every bit of the angry alpha that he has shown in the past to her but he wasn’t posturing, he was leaning against the counter and sipping a protein shake from his shaker bottle.
“I…” YN shakes her head as she looks around, in awe that the alpha actually listened and did something kind for her that maybe he wasn’t the complete knothead she thought he was, “It’s okay. It feels safe again.”
“Even with my scent?” Harry clarifies, wariness in his expression as he watches her, eyes always focused and clear from under his dark lashes.
“I've never had an alpha in my proximity. It makes me feel safer and I like your scent. It really upset me when I could barely smell you when I got home last night,” YN doesn’t know where this honesty is coming from and isn’t sure whether she should regret it or not.
Harry has the same flash of guilt cross his face and that’s when YN realizes just how exhausted he appears with puffiness under his eyes, darker than usual coloring.
“It must have taken you a long time to do all this. You even did laundry and I know it takes ages for those dryers to actually dry anything heavier than a sock,” YN murmurs as she gives another glance around.
Harry rubs the back of his neck with his free hand, his hair was in a high bun, and his jawline was like something of a sculpture.
YN was still struggling to come to terms with the idea that this alpha was her flat mate, Niall never mentioned how impossibly handsome he is or devastatingly all dominant, primal alpha.
Maybe as a beta he truly didn’t notice.
Niall could be quite oblivious.
“I let my emotions get the best of me sometimes. I wasn’t thinking about how new scents in the house would affect your pre-heat,” Harry admits, his voice is still somewhat flat but it seemed genuine enough, “I am a good alpha.”
YN is a bit taken aback by his words.
It was the cadence of the way he spoke them.
Like he was trying to prove it to her.
“You should get some sleep before work,” YN defers the topic and from the twitch of Harry’s jaw - his annoyance too because he wanted validation.
He was being a good alpha but it was a little too late in this scenario.
“I have to get to the gym to train,” Harry shakes his head, swigging down the last of what was in his bottle before moving to wash it out.
“You can’t take a day off?”
“No,” Harry replies, simple and firm, “You should be the one getting back to sleep. You don’t have work today. You should rest, your body has been incredibly stressed out.”
“I’ll probably sleep the whole day now,” YN laughs but it’s the truth, she almost wants to move to the couch after he leaves to be more more enmeshed in his scent.
“The striped knit blanket in the basket, you might want to not use that one,” Harry tells her before he directly focuses on scrubbing his plastic cup.
“Did you not wash it?” Maybe it still smells like omega or beta.
“I did,” Harry blinks at her, frowning like he doesn’t want to answer but is being forced, “I just…it’s drenched in my scent. My alpha was unsettled so probably want to let it air out and lose the scent a bit first.”
“Okay,” YN replies easily because that means that after he leaves it will be the first one that she’s going to wrap herself into like a burrrito.
“Okay?” Harry repeats back, skeptical and sharp, “I don’t understand how all these betas and one omega triggers you so incredibly much while I can just stink up and claim this whole apartment with no issue.”
YN almost physically sees Harry start to put his guard up, hackles up and brows knitting downward to cause the wrinkle above his nose.
“It makes me feel safe, you…um, make me feel that way too,” YN admits, all to honest again, and she wonders why she is opening up to a brick wall.
Harry’s jaw twitches, eyes unreadable as he nods, “Okay.”
YN wants to laugh at his robotic, stiff response to such a major compliment.
She may be taunting a bull but she has to try.
Harry had just hung the dish towel back on the oven handle when YN walks into the kitchen and straight at him, not giving him a chance to move before she’s wrapping her arms around his middle and hugging him.
A major part of her expects him to push her off, scoff at her, or to even just stiffen up to the point that it would feel like hugging a scarecrow.
But Harry, she was learning was absolutely full of surprises and he doesn’t do any of those things.
He doesn’t exactly soften but he does something that nearly stops her heart, he puts his hand on the nape of her neck which is a very intimate thing.
“You’re fine. You need to figure out how to control your disorder, it must be miserable living like that twice a year. Go get some sleep now,” Harry rumbles as he administers the lightest squeeze to that spot his hand was on.
YN purrs.
Her eyes widen and she flinched.
“Did you just-?” Harry begins to ask, voice getting rougher.
“Have a good day at the gym and work!” YN squirms out of his hold and hightails it to the bedroom, shutting the door quickly.
On her retreat, she swears that she hears Harry huffs out in a mixture of annoyance and humor, “Silly pup.” ++++++++_
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strwberri-milk · 2 days
Note
Hello!!! Hope you’re having a good day/night!
May I be so bold as to request a Diluc, Wanderer, and Neuvillette with a crush who is scared of marriage as a result of parental trauma. 🙃✨
How do you think they’d react?
you mean me - also dilucs is really long bc tbh i think hes the only one who might have a stronger opinion than the others lol
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Diluc has never had an active model of what a happy marriage is but he knows his parents did have a happy marriage. His father spoke of his mother's memory fondly, his grief never weighing down the affection he had for his son. Diluc knows what love looks like from the love his father gave him, and the way his father honoured his mother's memory.
He definitely has always wanted to marry you since he fell in love with you, occasionally allowing himself to imagine what your wedding would look like. He talks to you about these ideas of his once in a while so you're aware that marriage is most definitely a goal of his. You try not to shoot his dreams down right away, nodding around and offering your opinions as well.
However, he does figure out that something's off and he asks you what's on your mind. You hesitate to tell him about your reservations, worried that you'd ruin his ideal future with you and that he'd leave you. It takes a lot of him reassuring you that things will be okay and he's just trying to understand you better.
When you tell him that you're not sure about marriage right now because of your family he apologises for making you uncomfortable. He reassures you that marriage doesn't need to happen right away - even if the two of you just entered a sort of common law relationship where you allowed him to call you his spouse without it being legal on paper that would make him just as happy. He offers that as a compromise - it allows you guys to do things as though you're married but you aren't legally bound to each other which allows you to leave easier than if the two of you are married.
He tells you you don't need to make a decision right away but it's something that could work out for the two of you. He really hopes that it's something you're okay with, willing not to be legally married to you if it means the two of you are socially married for the most part. He would never want to hold you hostage but if the two of you are going to spend the rest of your lives together it'd be nice to introduce you as his spouse when you're comfortable with it, regardless of your legal status.
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Wanderer doesn't really care. He understands that marriage is a big deal to humans but as someone who's not really human and spends most of his time alone he doesn't fully understand the need for some people to be married. To him, as long as the two of you are devoted to each other and stay committed that's all that matters.
He'll listen to your concerns, brought about when you randomly asked him how he feels about marriage. You weren't sure what he'd say in response, knowing that he's got a pretty flippant attitude toward a lot of human experiences if he doesn't understand them. He just told you it's not something he cares much for but if you want to get married then he'd revisit it closer to when you actually want to have a wedding.
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Neuvillete was under the assumption that you would want to get married. It's seen as the min goal for human relationships after all and he wants to give you the world. He'll ask you about it one day if you don't mention it after a while, other people around him asking when the two of you are going to get married.
You skirt around the topic for a bit, not sure how to tell him that you don't want to be married. You don't want him to think that it's anything he's done, elaborating to him as he listens to you paitiently. He understands that if that's how you feel then that's okay - he wants to be with you and human marriage not being on your horizon isn't going to be a deal breaker to him.
He might ask if you want to partake in any mating rituals that dragons have instead. They're not going to weigh as much on him since he hasn't exactly been spending too much time with other dragons as of late. It's just something that he thinks could be nice to do, and another way for the two of you to show commitment to each other.
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nightcolorz · 10 hours
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I would love to hear your thoughts on autistic Armand, if you haven’t already spoke about this! Imo he’s very autsitic coded, and it’s very precious to me as an autistic iwtv fan :]
OMG!!! RUNS AROUND. Yes lmao I talk about this a lot actually it is one of my favorite Armand things to meta about bcus I’m also autistic and he is my special interest🙏I was trying to find some of the stuff I’ve written about autistic Armand but tumblrs search engine makes it near impossible to find anything so I gave up 😭, but believe me they r out there. Even tho I talk about this a lot I would love love love to talk about it some more for u anon because I can never get enough of armandtism.
I first figured Armand was autistic when I was reading the vampire Lestat because when he is first introduced he is completely non verbal and only communicates through the mind gift. through further explanation it’s very much implied that he does this because he finds putting his thoughts into words hard and he considers just projecting them into peoples brains much easier. Armand speaks out loud for the first time like more than halfway through the book, and lestat is surprised to hear him lol. This is super autistic I feel like that’s obvious 🙏 it’s basically the vampire power equivalent of using a non verbal communication device. Armand having trouble with connecting with people, understanding how to “fit in”, and talking r prevailing parts of his character throughout the whole series (not just tvl) which solidified my headcanon into basically a canon fact in my mind lol.
When Armand is first introduced in iwtv his strangeness is chalked up to his vampirism, but it’s soon revealed throughout tvl and qotd that Armand is considered a strange outcast by other vampires. The things he struggles with r unique to him and r not representative of vampires in general. His otherness/strangeness can also not be chalked up to his trauma or his age turned because Armand was also an outcast as a young child. It’s described in the vampire Armand that Armand was not understood by his parents or his community because he was obsessed with and freakishly good at painting. His community interprets his unusualness as a sign of some divine intervention, the priests believe he is a saint or a prophet sent to earth, even at times saying things implying that he is “not human”. Unusually high quickly developing skill in childhood is an autistic trait, as is hyper fixation on an activity/topic that becomes a core identity factor and prevailing obsession. The affects of Armand’s trauma only worsen the severity of his autistic traits. C-ptsd and autism often overlap and coexist in autistic people who were traumatized in childhood, which seems to be Armand’s case.
in queen of the damned Armand is at his peak autistic lol, I feel like this is when most book readers gain that head canon. The Devils minion chapter revolves around Armand using Daniel as a guide to help him learn how to be “normal” and to blend in to the modern age. Armand can’t seem to figure out how to blend in on his own because he is unable to understand social norms of any time period enough to integrate himself into society. Armand is in love with technology and what most would consider monotonous sensory experiences. He stares at his own reflection for hours, he loves kitchen appliances and watching ingredients whir in blenders, cameras, he watches the same movie over and over again and never gets bored of it. The way Armand fixates on technology really reminds me of how a lot of autistic people played as children. He enjoys repetitive, sensory behaviors over “fun”. For Armand this means watching the same things repeatedly, which is a form of visual stimming. There r moments where Armand is trying to understand his world, but is so blind to what he is trying to understand that he goes about his discoveries wrong. Such as in qotd when he tries to interrogate strangers to gain information on societal norms but he only gets uncomfortable glances. Armand is desperate to understand and to connect but he is consistently inherently alienated, whether it be from humanity or from other vampires or from himself.
Armand also can not process his memories comprehendingly. This is part trauma part autism, but autism is def a factor. Because of his repressed trauma induced memory loss Armand finds it difficult to talk about himself to people. This is worsened by Armand being unable to comprehend the aspects of story telling that he needs to be able to tell people about his life. Armand explains to Daniel that he vividly remembers small details, such as dates and weather, but he could not tell Daniel what “things were like” because he “doesn’t know what that means”. Literal thinking, the inability to grasp vague, fiction based concepts like narratives and metaphor, and strict fixation on minor details like numbers, are all autistic traits!
Armand also struggles heavily with emotional regulation. He is described as often having intense and extreme meltdowns where he cries and screams and breaks things. Armand is easily bothered, in tva he mentions that he covers his ears when he is overwhelmed. The vampire Armand begins actually with Armand becoming overwhelmed in public and trying to escape to an attic so that he can be alone in silence. Armand copes with his intense emotions by putting on a mask of neutrality. He is often described as expressionless and blank, uncanny. But this is a mask, and when Armand can no longer mask and his disguise lapses his facial expressions r described by lestat as being so over the top and emotional that they are disturbing and weird. Over the top unnatural facial expressions as well as blank unreadable ones are both autistic traits. For Armand he is naturally overly emotive to the point of being considered horrifying, and he hides this by taking the opposite extreme. Either way, either expression Armand puts on causes him to be socially outcast.
Armand often describes feeling like there is something wrong with him that causes him to be isolated from others and he’s not sure what it is. In prince lestat he tells Gregory that he doesn’t know why it’s so hard for him to have relationships when other vampires are fully capable of doing that. In the vampire Armand he explains to David that he’s crazy because his mind isn’t built right and his senses are tripled so he shouldn’t bother trying to understand him. I rlly relate to this as someone who felt like I was from another dimension as a child bcus i didn’t know the unspoken life rules everyone else did.
Armand is often treated like a child by the other vampires and assumed to be emotionally immature and too fragile and insane to be helpful. Armand says in the vampire Armand that he doesn’t consider himself an adult because he can’t function like one. This could be due to the age he was turned, but it’s shown to us that characters like Benji and even to an extent Claudia r able to self regulate and function appropriately despite being turned even younger then Armand was.
in conclusion, book Armand is an autistic person who was never given proper support or understanding because the environment and the time period he was born in decided to alienate him further rather then work to help him socialize and learn appropriate skills, and because of the necessities he has been deprived of and the horrible trauma he endured Armand is never able to learn to function in the way he was likely capable of. this recessive quality in pair with his autism caused Armand it be unable to cope or self regulate or learn ways to understand himself since he wasn’t given a chance to in his formative years. He’s a great representative of what many autistic people who experienced intense child abuse experience.
Im rlly happy with the shows portrayal with Armand so far partly because he is omg, so autistic. Show Armand shares so many of book Armand’s autistic traits. inability to understand himself or others, fixation on small details but inability to understand the big picture, etc. even his iPad is autistic asf! My ipad is my comfort item that I carry around with me to self sooth, and this is def the vibe Armand’s iPad gives me in the show. Even assads performance is autistic! He is able to play Armand masking and Armand unmasking, the stilted expressions he gives and the blank stares, the uncomprehending earnestness. AGHHHH!! Assad stims with his fingers when Armand is nervous too which is just an amazing touch. I hope the show explores Armand’s autism, because that would literally be a dream come true. Even still, for now I’m satisfied.
thank u so so much anon for the ask this made me so happy 🙏❤️ autistic Armand means so much to me and has gotten me though some tough times. Understanding and analyzing Armand helps me understand myself better and feel more comfortable with how I am. Earlier this year I gave myself a concussion because I was harmfully stimming during a meltdown, and while I was in the emergency room I was holding the vampire Armand and imaging that he would relate to what I was going through. So yeah he is very special to me too! And once again it makes me so so happy that u got me to talk some about it. I hope this was coherent or interesting lol I felt like I was all over the place
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poppy-metal · 1 day
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could you PLS talk abt moody reader and bsf patrick. and i'm not even talking abt smut, just that dynamic. she's not necessarily rude all the time, just kinda hesitant to do things. he's always pushing her into doing things that he knows she'll enjoy eventually even if she's reluctant at first (and he's always right). like one time he finds out that she doesn't know how to swim, never learned bc her parents just never took her to lessons and now it's his mission to teach her. and he's always the one who initiates physical touch and she pretends like it bothers her when he hugs her while he's all sweaty but secretly loves the affection. and she's torn when patrick is asking abt her opinion on the new girl she's seeing bc on one hand, the new gf is pretty and nice and smart so she's not gonna lie and be a pick me (and patrick values his bsf's opinion sm so she knows she has to be careful) but she's on the other hand she's in love with him and that should be HER not the other girl. sorry for the rant LMAO i didn't think this was gonna turn out so long
oh to be patricks autistic - mistaken for a bitch - best friend. everything he does, if it was someone else you'd be so unbelievablely triggered and upset. putting you in a headlock when hes sweaty and gross, throwing his arm around you and dragging you into his side - you snap at him and call him disgusting but theres never any heat to it. you'd never admit but you like the attention, soak it up like a flower does the sun. its strange to compare patrick zweig to the sun but thats what he is to you - you're always gravitating towards him. reaching tendrils out. when one of your snarky remarks makes him laugh out loud you feel like you could walk on air. and he's alot of things like loud, and mouthy, and impulsive, but he also remembers your favorite order from your favorite places, he lets you borrow his hoodies when you're cold and he never asks for them back - you asked one day, secretly hoping he'd say no but worried he was missing them "do you want me to give em'back?" and he'd just jostled your shoulder with his shrug and shook his head "its fine - i have a shit ton, and you wear em' better anyways" - he shit talks people with you and doesn't say anything about your absolutely insane statements like "ill behead them all and use their bones for kindling." he just snorts and asks if you can make him a s'more. you love him a little desperately. a little so much that when you take a moment to really look at him, his sun freckled skin, the messy tangles and wisps of his hair, the way his nose curves, the way he stands, sits, moves his hands, it hurts.
it hurts especially bad when you remember you cant have him that way - the way he has other girls - the way he has them gasping and pleading in the back of his car, moaning his name - because you'll always just be his friend. the girl who can make him laugh so hard pepsi squirts out of his nose. never the girl he'd want flushed and in his bed.
(you're stupid.)
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bevy-obeyme · 2 days
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just a silly lI'll question: how do you think the brothers would react with a F!Mc who's a kitsune?
Of course!! Thank you so much for the ask, as I do find it intriguing as well!!
Lucifer-
- Lucifer is intrigued yet slightly exasperated at the thought - Kitsunes are mischievous creatures and no doubt you’d be another trouble for him when he’s already busy enough.
- Nonetheless, he is quite fond of the fact.
- He loves the way you purr beneath his hands as he rubs your ears or the way you yelp when he pulls on your tail teasingly.
- No matter the amount of times you tell him off, he’ll not stop.
- He also loves your fangs, he found them amusing yet when he curiously glided his finger against one, he was reminded that you were still in fact a Kitsune with sharp teeth.
- Often, you’ll slip onto his lap when he’s busy with paperwork and he won’t push you off. Your purring has become quite therapeutic and he has times where he wishes your endearing purrs filled the silent room.
Mammon-
- At first, he gets a bit scared. Kitsunes were said to be bad omens to the person who became their prey and Mammon did NOT want that..
- However, as time passed, he noticed that you were actually not too bad. In fact, he took great pleasure in the fact you were a troublemaker like him!
- Stealing Lucifer’s credit card whilst you bewitched the eldest to be immobile was liberating! But the chase afterwards was.. well, tiring.
- Mammon in particular loved your tail. It was just so fluffy, he snuggled with it so often that you’d think he loved the tail and not you.
Leviathan-
- Levi was not keen on you. Especially since he hated new people in general and the fact you reminded him of a certain scummy brother of his.. in addition, why would you want to hang out with a shut-in like him anyway?
- However! This all changed when he found out how much attention you paid to him, the cute little twitch of your ears when you became interested about a game he showed you or that light swishing of your tail when you got excited - he had found a friend in you.
- He invited you round all the time after that, introducing you to Henry and then bombarding you with questions about Kitsunes in animes that he had been dying to ask!
Satan-
- Now, Satan was immediately fascinated when he met you. He had read up a lot on mythology and was keen to confirm the origin of your kind.
- He was also quite captivated about your ears and tail. Anytime they even as much flexed, he had to physically stop himself from just petting you. It wasn’t his fault you resembled a cat so much!
- Eventually, when you agreed, it was bliss for Satan. His favourite affection was to massage the base of your fluffy ears.
- And when you purred? Oh brother.. he wouldn’t handle it. Not without blushing and becoming flustered.
Asmodeus-
- Asmodeus, like anytime, immediately began gushing and complimenting you.
- He was very touchy per usual and insisted on stroking your tail and/or your ears. He found them absolutely luscious and insisted you tell him your hair care routine.
- Nonetheless, he was also fascinated with your kind as some Kitsunes were rather flirty and secretly he hoped that you were one of that kind too.
- He makes up a bunch of nicknames like ‘’My darling kitsu’’ or ‘’Kitsy’’ just to convey his affection.
- When he examined your fangs, he was quite taken. He loved every aspect of you.
Beelzebub-
- Beelzebub did not have much agenda or bias towards you. But you were fluffy and smelled sweet so he stuck around.
- He was often curious about your species and asked various questions of how you’ve adapted to the Devildom and mostly food related questions - mainly what kind you liked.
- He felt a peace being by you when you purred. It put him at ease. In fact, he would share his food with you! Beelzebub? Sharing food?!
- He’d also get quite protective over your food. For example, one time Mammon tried to steal your pudding and Beelzebub immediately made a statement not to - because it was yours.
- Since he is quite a tall demon, he really likes just resting his chin on your fluffy bed of hair and hugging you around the waist.
Belphegor-
- He was rather curious of your kind too. Often, he’d just poke your ears or your tail and ask questions in that mellow tone. At least you weren’t a human.
-HOWEVER, this all changed when he came to know you were actually quite sly and cunning. He found himself becoming more and more fond. You would be the perfect addition to the Anti-Lucifer League.
- You also had some common interests. Like napping. He noticed how you always curled up and used your tail as a blanket. It was.. cute.
- When you came to get to know each other more, he, like his twin, found solace within you. A deep comfort.
- He loved to just cuddle you to sleep and let your therapeutic purrs lull him to sleep. You wouldn’t get out of his grip until he let you either.
(Hope I did this ask justice and thank you once more for the request!! It was a pleasure writing it :D)
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soaked-ghost · 2 days
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You know, something that hits very very close to home about Ink's canon character is how much he seems to struggle with social understanding.
People often say that Ink canonically*just* has a hard time understanding social interaction but while that's true, it kindaaaa misses the entire spectrum of problems. It's said in the F.A.Q 'With him hardly having a proper social understanding,. As a Psychology student, the use of this particular word caught my attention a little tbh. Since it's widely used in academic contexts and studies conducted in relation to social competences and not very much used in more informal/non-academic contexts, where 'social skills' is more used for example.
According to academic sources, most can agree upon the fact that social understanding stands for 'our understanding of social features of the world, as people with beliefs, intentions, wishes, emotions, and desires. Think of social understanding as ''big-picture' thinking, It envoles observing and processing the larger social environment.
(In those academic paper that i have said, 'social understanding' is used to mean 'Theory of mind', since they're the same defenition but with different words. Comyet sayin' that Ink has a hard proper social understanding is the same thing as saying that he doesn't have a proper theory of mind, which, again, proves that those social issues run much deeper than 'hes blunt sometimes'
Not only that, but he has a problem with understanding people's underlying messages and emotions, mainly with people arr bit being obvious about it. His social issues affect the way he communicates with people too! (He's stand as 'blint' as a result, which is a way of communication). Adding ti, but he seems to have problems with back and forth styles of conversation too.
As an autistic person, i just relate A LOT to Ink. I really wished people portaryed his social problems tbh.. people often erase it, infantilizes it or dmeonizes it... It sucks.
i keep getting asks like these from people way smarter than me and all I can respond back with is something stupid like 'haha isn't it funny that ink is a painter and can't get the bigger picture lol'
but seriously, it's sad that people only look at the surface level things when it comes not only to ink, but also pretty much every other autistic/autistic coded character
because to them, autism is just stimming and special interests, just the disorder that makes u 'silly' but never the disorder that affects every part of my life, and often times if affects my life badly
It just makes other autistic people uncomfortable that sometimes, autism fucking sucks, so they choose to ignore the 'unsavory' parts of autism in favor for something digestible, free of discomfort and mainstream
(god forbid autistic characters act violently or latch out and GOD FORBID they ever have a meltdown)
we never see ink's side of how he is really affected by his autism, he's always either 'silly', or bothering other people. we only see how the people around ink react to his autism, and it's always with annoyance
Ink didn't choose to not understand people and be alienated from them and feel alone and disconnected from everyone
u can tell me as many time as u like that he has no empathy and doesn't care about people and is inconsiderate, which all are autism behaviors that are demonized to a hellish degree
but guess what, the only one that will always be affected by his own carelessness (and his own autism) is ink, because he's the one that always ends up alone in the end
repeat after me kids: the only one affected badly by ink is ink
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demeterdefence · 3 days
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been thinking a lot about how lore olympus really just could not fathom the concept of found family, it absolutely HAD to have a traditional blood-related family for the ending which is just ... so rachel honestly lmao we really should have known.
there were a lot of instances in the series where it almost seemed like rachel went out of her way to paint biological families as inherently dysfunctional, or at least not all they're cracked up to be - aphrodite is disdained by ares' family, zeus and hera are constantly arguing / zeus is constantly unfaithful, rhea and ouranos are an abusive marriage that begets three wildly traumatized sons, etc and so forth. that's not to say all families were bad or flawed (whether that was a choice or rachel spent so little time on them it just didn't come up) but the end result is that there were a lot of broken biological families in the series.
i think rachel wanted to demonstrate that you do not have to stick with an abusive family if they hurt you - that blood is not the defining aspect of family and bonds, that you can make your own and build your own family. i think rachel thought she was writing that, with how hades hates his dad and how persephone distances herself from demeter (who did nothing wrong but anyways.) the problem is, she absolutely does not follow through with it. at the end of the day, rachel is going to prioritize blood bonds and biological children over found family, because to her, that's the only family that counts.
like, hades raised thanatos from childhood and abuses the fuck out of him, completely traumatizes the god of death to the point thanatos is genuinely afraid of hades. thanatos is mocked, derided, scorned, and scoffed at by hades, constantly. thanatos did not have a CHOICE in who raised him, his mother abandoned him into hades' care. and hades does not for a single moment let up on how resentful he is about it. when thanatos finally admits that he only had hades as a parental figure (or ANY kind of family, tbh), hades turns it into how that affects him, how it makes him feel. after, we get two jokes about how hades is thanatos' dad now, and the last scene we ever get of thanatos is that "sometimes hades talks to him." thanatos never shows up in hades' daydreams of a family, he never shows up as a person who is important to hades. for centuries, hades was in charge of raising thanatos, not once does he ever appear in any of hades' dreams or wants regarding family. not biological family, so fuck off.
more to the point, the narrative makes it explicit to us that hades can't have children - it's brought up three times specifically, to drive the point home that hades wants children, he's definitely tried to have children, and it just won't happen. melinoe was seen as a way around that, and i won't lie, compared to rachel's usual hamfisted approaches, it wasn't the worst idea to have. but by the end of the series, it's shown that oh, nope, hades can have children (only with persephone though) and also they look like him, because biological bonds are everything. you know who doesn't count? dionysus, who was kidnapped from his dad and raised as a pet project for persephone. the kid helps her conquer winter or whatever the fuck that plot point was, but because he's not their biological child, hades and persephone ditch him after the final battle and throw him his old mom back to get rid of him.
biological children aren't a bad thing and it's not a bad thing to want or have them, but it's so fucking telling that hades and persephone have multiple people in their lives who should be considered family, and are picked up and discarded summarily once their use is over. dionysus was their proxy kid, and we literally do not see hades interact with him except maybe twice. thanatos gets absolutely trounced and i'll never not be angry about that. i don't even know what's going on with persephone's half brother, but he shows up for a single panel in the finale and then disappears.
wouldn't it have been so powerful if hades, an abuse victim, decided to be the father thanatos deserved? wouldn't it have been more in line with the supposed message of the story if hades and persephone opened their homes to people who once felt like them, abandoned and unwanted? at the very least, couldn't they have shown love to the people in their lives who sacrificed so much and put up with so much from them? what exactly is the measure of a family in lore olympus? we can't control who births us, but we can control the hurt we ourselves give, and the love we share, and that would have been an infinitely better ending for the two most selfish characters to show their growth. another disappointing pin in an already massively disappointing ending.
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livefastwritetrash · 2 days
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Excerpt from something that I keep writing and rewriting because I literally can’t tell if it’s any good.
“I just mean that you're my best mate, Edwin. Even when you’re being a right pain in the arse.” Edwin bristled, but the affection in his tone somewhat softened the blow, “And I keep thinking. That I have known you better and longer than anyone. We have been to literal hell and back together, and somehow…I don’t even know what it’s like to shake your hand.”
“But you’re shaking my hand right now.”
Charles sighed. How were the smartest people he ever met also always the densest?
“Sure. And what does that feel like to you?”
Edwin contemplated the heavy emptiness in his palm, the vague sense of pressure and static where they touched. Just two souls colliding in air, lacking the tools to distill all their complexity into sensation. This is what touch had been for him for ages. Was it really so different from mortal senses? He couldn’t recall.
“...Normal? ” he hedged anyway. Charles nodded, but his eyes turned sad and dropped away, and he wondered if he’d answered wrongly somehow.
“Right. Normal.”
When Charles looked back to him, there was a weight to it that was nearly as tangible as their clasped hands.
“Do you ever think that maybe this feels normal, because it’s all we’ve ever had? We’ve only ever been ghosts to each other, Edwin. But it used to be different, before, didn’t it? Can you even remember what that was like, to feel real?”
“I suppose…no. I can’t.” Edwin was troubled to learn that was true even as the words left him.
Charles nodded and dropped his gaze to their hands. He readjusted his grip, prickles sliding between their palms, and a heartbeat kicked up in the nebulous area of Edwin’s chest. A word for anticipation that his soul sometimes remembered to speak, even though the language of the living had long been severed from him at the root.
“At some point,” Charles was saying softly, “Both of us touched someone real for the last time. And we didn’t even know it. It probably wasn’t family, or a best friend, or even anyone important to us. We went around thinking we’d have that forever, then it was just…gone.”
Help.
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Clarke Boetticher - A Character Study
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Let's start with the Tumblr Special: how would Clarke react to meeting you?
Let's consider a scenario in which Clarke does not immediately attempt to get far away from you. He might appear guarded, aloof, or even hostile right off the bat. He may be reserved, speak cautiously, or keep conversations brief to avoid revealing too much about himself or his involvement with the cult. He could suddenly become agitated or withdrawn and not want to be around you. Small gestures of kindness and clarity are something only seen after trust has been built. He's rather enigmatic and introverted. Quiet, but in a calculated way.
The moment you know too much, he'll slit your throat, so try not to pry.
And I know there's the age-old question of, "is he romanceable/can I ship him with my character/myself, etc?"
The answer is circumstantial. This isn't a man with any kind of social skills nor has he known love. He tried that fiasco with Natalie and it ended with him hysterically laughing at her maimed corpse.
If, theoretically, you could get past his skittish eraticisms, constant disappearances, disloyalty and him awkwardly brushing off your affection... perhaps. He will choose the cult over you every time. This is a situationship mixed with sporadic one night stands at best.
Chances are, though, he would want nothing to do you with. You better be damn special, and even special might not get you very far with Clarke.
As Clarke's creator, I genuinely do not care what fanfiction you write with Clarke in it, but I beg you to try and stick to my narrative. He's like this for a reason. Also it would make me happy.
Will he get along with my OC?
Clarke likes normal people. The more normal, the better. He's so tired of seeing monsters every day... so that's up to you. Is your OC a creepypasta or a survivor? He'll go for the survivor in terms of a budding acquaintance (as long as they don't end up with a mark on their back from the Web.) It doesn't matter if killing your character will absolutely crush him, Clarke can't say no to the cult.
Where's Masky and Hoodie? Are they friends with Clarke like in the classic creepypasta?
Copyright means we can't use them so we had to write them out.
This lovely trio from the classics is not really affiliated with each other in Blessed Be The Wicked. As stated in a previous post, Brian is a human hellbent on revenge against the cult after Slenderman took his friends' lives away in the events of Marble Hornets, and he is currently hiding among them as a "proxy." He walks, talks and makes himself look like them, and they haven't noticed quite yet, but Brian is on borrowed time...
Tim, however... well, he ended up getting a little too messy and violent than the cult would've liked, so they fed him to Calibri.
Clarke doesn't really know who Brian is, and Tim is dead. RIP.
What about his Tourettes? Has anything changed with how that is written?
His Tourettes overlaps heavily with his OCD. Clarke's tics are more word-based and compulsory actions than twitching. E.g., checking the locks repeatedly, flipping light switches, echolalia, or repeating a word/phrase during speech. He struggles with his brain hanging on words and sounds during a conversation, which can quickly trigger his anger and frustration.
One might catch Clarke arranging his belongings in a certain pattern, counting his steps as he walks, or adjusting things to make sure they line up/are straight. Clarke's inability to stay clean most times severely bothers him.
Here's some other little bits of info:
Smells like dirt, sweat and metal... sort of like ozone. He showers whenever he can afford to spend extra time in a victim's house after he's finished the job; but it's mostly rinsing off briefly in an icy creek.
The guy will absolutely demolish a cheeseburger and shitty diner coffee. After eating what he could hunt for so long (which was very little,) he's pretty strung out on hunger.
Clarke was inducted into the cult at seventeen and is now twenty-six, meaning he has been a "proxy" for about nine years.
Clarke was written to this song.
Be prepared to bring your Rad-X because this man is a walking elephant's foot. Radiation poisoning (or slender sickness) is in his wake after spending so much time around the Spawn of the Web.
He's king of the Compartmentalized Emotions.
You might catch him doing dangerous shit because he doesn't know pain, and his dissociative coping response can lead him to believe what he is doing isn't real.
(If he believes it's real, he'll hate himself, and he can't do that yet, now can he?)
Has the occasional fit of Cotard's Delusion.
Clarke is a complete stoner and pays the monthly visit to Jingles for the good stuff.
He doesn't flinch. Ever.
Does not own a cell phone and is really bad with technology. Nine years in the woods will isolate a man from how fast tech has progressed.
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185northgower · 1 day
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For the kiss prompts number 49 for bokris
Thank you nonny for the first Bokris prompt I've gotten!
Now, a kiss as a necessity admittedly gave me slight pause when I first read your ask, but then this came to me, and I hope you'll like it.
Without further ado, have some teenage Bokris!
(And if you also want to send me a kiss prompt, you can do so using this list!)
The party is in full swing when Jan’s friend Saša suggests playing a game. 
Kris already dreads what’s to come, knowing full well that Saša, having three older brothers, always has the most bizarre party game ideas and rules. He briefly exchanges a glance with Jan, who simply shrugs and grins. When Kris scans the other faces around him his gaze snags on Bojan, the slightly older boy talking to two girls from Kris’ class, making them laugh with some stupid joke. As he watches, Bojan looks up in his direction, their eyes locking for a moment and then Bojan’s winking at him and looking away again.
Kris wants to go over to him and tell him to take his stupid wink back, and that it doesn’t affect Kris in any way, anyway…
Saša loudly starting the game pulls his attention away from the other boy though and he tries to listen to the rules, frown deepening as Saša explains that they’ll spin a bottle to determine who pairs up, and then they’ll go into the little pantry by the front door for seven minutes to kiss. Those who don’t follow the rules and don’t kiss will have to do a dare instead. Kris looks at Jan again, who waggles his eyebrows at him. Not helpful.
The game turns out to be quite fun after all, everyone joking and cheering and four people already having to perform various dares.
When it’s Kris’ turn, he’s optimistic that everything will be okay. Maybe, if he’s lucky, the bottle will even stop spinning on Jan.
Luck, however, is not on his side, as the bottle points at none other than Bojan, who beams at Kris across the circle they’ve formed.
Jan shoots him an encouraging smile and they’re off, stepping towards the little pantry.
Kris slowly shuffles into the small space after Bojan, and breathes a sigh of relief when he can see that the other boy is standing against the furthest corner shelf, which isn’t far, but if Kris stays with his back against the door, which he does, even as it closes behind his back and they’re plunged into darkness, there’s enough space between them.
“Have you ever kissed anyone before, Kris?” comes Bojan’s soft, low voice, while the younger’s eyes are still adjusting to the near pitch black darkness around them. 
He swallows against the word “Jan,” rising up in his throat and instead says, “Only to see what it’s like, with a friend. Not… not for real…” 
And really, why is he even being this honest with Bojan? He can maybe admit that the other boy is cute, adorable even, but the whole douchebag demeanour and air of popularity are grating on Kris’ nerves, to say the least. 
And that isn’t cancelled out by the glimpses of how sweet and caring and… soft the other boy can be, when there’s nobody but his inner circle, his closest friends and bandmates around. 
Of course he looks good, a fact Kris is reminded of now that his eyes are slowly getting used to the dark, even if, with the way Bojan is standing a whole arm length away, he can make out mostly the general shape of the other boy and a shadowy outline of his face. He can imagine him all too well though, with his sharp jawline, those wide, brown eyes and… well. The point is he knows what Bojan looks like, even if it’s dark around them.
While Kris is lost in thought, pointedly staring somewhere over Bojan’s left shoulder, hands clenched behind his back, the short boy steps closer, his face suddenly close enough to be able to clearly see his expression, and then he’s smiling up at Kris, face lighting up in a way that’s almost blinding, like Kris is looking directly at the sun.
He swallows and licks his lips, immediately regretting the motion when Bojan’s eyes focus on his mouth instead of his eyes.
“Do you want to try? A real kiss I mean?” Bojan asks softly, and Kris can feel his face grow hot, praying to any deity that will hear him that the darkness around them will sufficiently hide the splotchy redness he’s sure he’s sporting.
“I…” he honestly doesn’t know what to say to that, and Bojan slowly reaches out, soft hands finding Kris’ upper arms and gently stroking up and down, soothing. 
There’s a sort of staticky hum in his brain and he can’t really focus on whether he wants to kiss the other boy or not, even though the obvious answer should be no.
His eyes trail over Bojan’s face and focus on his pretty, pink, soft looking lips. 
He remembers kissing Jan, how his best friend’s beard had tickled his face, soft in some, a little scratchy in other places, and he thinks he might like kissing Bojan’s impossibly smooth face a whole lot more. 
“If you don’t want to,” he hears Bojan say, voice sounding muffled to Kris’ ears, “we can always tell them we made out, they won’t have to know we didn’t…”
But there’s something in Bojan’s eyes as he says it, and Kris wants to argue, starts saying “No, you can kiss me if…” but he doesn’t even get to finish the sentence.
Bojan slides a hand round the nape of Kris’ neck and tugs, while he himself stretches up towards him, probably on his tiptoes is Kris’ last thought and then somehow their mouths are right in front of each other.
Without conscious thought Kris lowers his head the last couple of millimetres and then his lips bump into Bojan’s. The hand on the back of his head makes their lips press together more firmly and to his absolute horror he can hear himself make a little noise, like a hum. 
He hastily pulls back and Bojan stares at him, wide eyed.
“Sorry, I’m… I… sorry,” he stammers, and the smaller boy’s hands fall away from his body. Kris wants to kick himself.
“You didn’t like kissing me?” he asks Kris, brown eyes wide, and Kris doesn’t want to be the one who makes that sweet face look so sad, so he tries to gather his wits the best he can and shakes his head, slowly reaching for Bojan’s hand that’s hanging limp by the smaller boy’s side.
“Can… can we try again?” he asks, and Bojan’s entire face lights up at the question.
This time it’s Kris who steps closer, hand reaching for the back of Bojan’s neck, feeling how soft his hair is, leaning down until he can bring their lips back together. Bojan’s arms wind around his middle after only a moment’s hesitation and Kris can feel him lean closer still, until there’s almost no more space between them. 
This time it’s Bojan who hums into the kiss, and Kris can feel the vibrations of it against his lips, the sensation a little ticklish, but in a good way. A very good way.
When he’s just gotten used to the soft push and pull of their lips against each other, he feels Bojan’s tongue carefully swipe across his bottom lip. 
Without conscious thought his lips fall open, his breathy, “Oh,” of surprise being swallowed by the other boy’s wet, hot mouth.
Bojan touches their tongues together and Kris has to try his hardest not to pull back, the touch making electricity zing up his spine. He’s dimly aware he makes another frankly embarrassing sound, but then Bojan does something with his tongue, and makes a noise that sounds a little like a whimper, while his hands knead at Kris’ back, and Kris thinks he couldn’t care less about what he himself sounds like, if only he can get Bojan to make that noise again.
His hand on the back of the shorter boy’s neck slides up a little, burying more firmly in the soft, brown hair and making Bojan tip his head back.
The success is immediate, Bojan moaning a little, right into Kris’ mouth and Kris experiments with moving his tongue and lips until Bojan makes another little sound, and another and another. Kris swallows them all, almost forgetting he needs to breathe air as well until Bojan slowly gentles their kisses, pulling back with a last peck to his lips.
The shorter boy leans his forehead against Kris’ chest and then he starts shaking, and it takes Kris a moment to catch up with the fact that he’s laughing.
Before he can panic about the fact, Bojan looks up at him, face flushed and eyes wide and lips so deliciously kiss swollen it makes Kris stare at him helplessly, transfixed.
“You said you hadn’t kissed anyone before?” Bojan says, voice low and rough and a little accusatory, and Kris can only nod.
“Holy hell…” the other boy lets out, shaking his head a little. 
“Can I see you tomorrow? After school? Will you come to my house?” he asks, and Kris blinks a little at the unexpected questions. Nevertheless he nods, and, realising he still has his fingers tangled in Bojan’s hair he slowly lets go, smoothing his hand down Bojan’s arm until he can reach for his hand again. The other boy beams at him, and is just about to say something else when the door swings open, Saša declaring that their time is up, and the sudden brightness makes Kris jump and squeeze the hand he’s holding.
Bojan beams at him, dragging him out of the pantry and back to the others, loudly exclaiming that they definitely won’t need to do any dare, because Kris is one hell of a kisser.
Kris can feel himself blush, but there’s a grin on his face he can’t shake and Bojan is sporting a matching blush, so he decides he’ll be alright. As his gaze finds Jan’s, his best friend grins back at him, giving him a surreptitious thumbs up.
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fandoms-x-reader · 2 days
Text
Personal Challenge
Word Count: 1,509
Asmodeus x Female! Reader
“Asmo?” you asked. No answer. “Are you okay?” you questioned, not moving from your spot. He let out a slow breath, keeping his eyes trained on your back as his breath tickled your neck, his lips inches away from your ear. “Every time I touch you, it feels like a personal challenge to stop again,” he muttered, his voice smooth and even.
_______________
The Avatar of Lust was known for many things. First, was the most obvious. He was the most beautiful creature in all three realms. It didn’t matter what you were - human, demon, angel, or any other creature - when it came to beauty, his was unrivaled.
He was also known for his ability to charm people. It didn’t matter who you were. The second he began talking, his words dripped from his mouth like honey, drawing you in; and, if you were foolish enough to look into eyes…well, you were a goner. He could have you under his spell in minutes, doing with you whatever he pleases whenever he pleases.
The love people had for him was unmatched. People adored him everywhere he looked - their affection making him feel loved and wanted. He truly believed that he would never have to yearn for anything again in life…then, you came along. 
A simple human. One no one expected great things from. You were to come to the Devildom, finish the year of school at RAD, and then go back home. That was it. Yet, somehow you ended up becoming a much bigger part of their lives.
The first thing Asmo quickly realized was your beauty. Not only on the outside, but on the inside too. Asmo could easily point out someone’s flaws and tell them how to fix it; but, with you, he couldn’t find a single one. He was out of his element. The only thing he could find himself doing was recommending products he used to see if they could somehow brighten your already shining aura.
At first, Asmo felt threatened by your beauty, though he would never admit it. What if others loved you more than him? Then, he had devised a plan. It was simple really. He would make you his. You would boost each other’s appearances up so high that you would be completely untouchable. A power couple in every sense of the word. Never having to worry about love and affection because you would have each other, and together you would have the world.
So, he got to work on his plan and pulled out all of the stops. A quiet evening in with him, dim lights, gentle music playing, sensual smells filling the air. He even brought out the candles and roses. It was the perfect intimate evening - enough to make anyone swoon. Anyone but you, apparently.
The first time he attempted to charm you, you simply smiled at him, brushing it off and continuing your conversation. Asmo was surprised, but focused on trying once again. The second time, he tried it, he put every ounce of power into it, his eyes glowing while his voice begged you to look into them.
“Asmo, what are you doing?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow. Shock. Complete and utter shock. “What?” he asked. “With your eyes, what are you doing?” you clarified. “You mean, it didn’t work?” Asmo questioned, looking away from you as he began to feel like he was having an existential crisis. How could it not work?! It always works!!
“Wait, were you trying to-,” you began but Asmo cut you off. “No! Here, drink this, I’ll be right back,” Asmo continued, handing you your drink before scurrying off into the bathroom. He needed to recompose himself. If his power wouldn’t win you over, then he would have to do it the old fashion way.
But, as it turned out, the old-fashioned way took some time. He would give you gifts and the smile he got in response would always brighten his day - making his heart flutter. He would offer to go shopping with you and his skin would ignite on fire as you would intertwine your fingers with his, dragging him to the different shops around town. 
Then, one day, Asmo had decided to surprise you with a very expensive dress he had seen you eyeing. He came to your room, box in hand as he wore a proud smile. 
“Y/N,” Asmo said in a sing-song voice, his knuckles gently knocking against your door. You opened it with a large smile as you invited him in. “I have a gift for you,” he told you, presenting the box. You gasped as you carefully took it from him, moving to your bed.
“What’s the occasion?” you asked him, looking up at him with bright eyes. “Everyone deserves to be spoiled every now and then,” Asmo replied, his graceful smile never leaving his lips. A small blush rose to your cheeks as you gently lifted the top of the box off. 
You felt your heart stop as you recognized the fabric of the dress. “Asmo,” you muttered, smoothing your fingers over it. “Do you like it?” he asked boastfully. Your heart melted at the gesture as you quickly moved to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “I love it,” you replied, returning your attention back to the dress. 
While you were busy admiring the gift from Asmo, he was busy melting on the inside. His skin felt like it was on fire where your lips grazed him. His eyes began filling with lust as every inch of his body craved more of your touch. Calm down.
“I’m going to go try it on,” you told him, knowing that he would want you to. He loved it when you tried on different outfits for him. You quickly disappeared into the bathroom allowing him a moment to regain his composure. 
You had managed to slip the dress on, but there was one problem - you couldn’t quite manage to reach the zipper. You let out a small sigh before opening the door and exiting the bathroom. “Hey, Asmo?” you asked and his attention immediately snapped to you. 
“Do you think you could help me?” you asked, but the question didn’t quite reach his ears. He was far too distracted by how you looked. Even without the dress being zipped, it was hugging you in all the right places, and the color brought out your skin tone perfectly. And just like that, his sin began building up inside of him all over again.
“Asmo?” you questioned and his eyes finally met yours. “Hmm?” he asked, suddenly realizing you had been talking to him. “Can you help me zip it up?” you asked, turning your back to him. Asmo inhaled deeply as the unzipped portion of the dress revealed your uncovered back. His eyes trailed from the top, trailing them over the back of your bra that was exposed down to where the zipper ended. If it ended an inch lower - Asmo would be in EXTREME trouble. 
He took a few steps forward until he was right behind you, and gently took the zipper in between his fingers. He promised himself he wouldn’t “accidentally” let his hand slip lower than you had asked. But, standing this close to you, it was so hard to resist the temptation.
He closed his eyes for a moment, refocusing, before continuing to zip. He watched his hand as if he was in a trance, watching as each of the teeth of the zipper pulled closed. He was nearly done when his hand brushed over your back, making you shiver slightly. 
Asmo stopped in his tracks as he watched goosebumps form on your skin where he had touched you. Suddenly, his thoughts were no longer under his control as his mind started running rampant with the way your skin felt on his hand. It was so soft, as if it was completely untouched. He subconsciously leaned in a bit, the smell of your skin intoxicating him. His hand trembled slightly as he did everything he could to keep his sin at bay. 
“Asmo?” you asked. No answer. “Are you okay?” you questioned, not moving from your spot. He let out a slow breath, keeping his eyes trained on your back as his breath tickled your neck, his lips inches away from your ear. “Everytime I touch you, it feels like a personal challenge to stop again,” he muttered, his voice smooth and even.
Your breath hitched as your heart rate sped up. You were so glad your back was turned to him so he couldn’t see the blush that had risen to your cheeks. You weren’t sure what came over you, but in that moment, there was only one thing you wanted. Gathering up what courage you had to proposition lust himself, you replied, “Then don’t stop.” 
The Avatar of Lust was known for many things. But, holding back was not one of them. And those words were all he needed to spend the rest of the night making you his. 
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I can't be the only one that finds Nachts little devils super adorable! especially the two with a cat and dog mask/faces, their little imp forms are just too cute! with that in mind how do you think Nacht would react to black bulls member reader-not yet s/o first reaction to seeing his devils is cooing over their smallness and pinchable faces? headcanons perfectly fine please and thank you!
Hello~! I was in the mood for some ... situational comedy with the very adorable little devils. So thank you for the patience, and i hope you like this! ^^
Pairing: Nacht x gn!reader (mostly Nacht's pov) Genre: Situational comedy/general Length: ~0.7k Contains: Nacht being Nacht, annoyed by his devils, reader coos at the devils Casually tagging: @loosesodamarble
Nacht has come to accept the presence of his devils around himself. He had made a pact with them, and they were now bound to him. Which is also why they were constantly by his side. Much to his annoyance.
Or he should say that it had been an annoyance.
Now he was used to them.
He had grown more or less used to the idea that there was always someone watching over his shoulder. Watching what he did. Where he went. At what time. And who did he go with. Nothing was sacred.
Not that the devils judged. They were devils, after all. The line between right and wrong, didn’t seem to matter much.
Unless it came to his sleeping habits or diet, it seemed.
The buggers were more than eager to remind him to drink something else than coffee. To eat something. Try to sleep.
As if his sleep would be restful.
‘It’s the caffeine!’ they’d tell him.
Which would spark that all too familiar feeling of annoyance.
Never did he think that he’d be getting lectured by some devils. They might’ve been his devils, but it wasn’t supposed to affect how they were. Come to think of it, maybe that was it. They were annoying him, precisely because they were devils. They might not have been able to do anything to him, but they could get their fun by annoying him. Not because they cared.
That had to be it.
That’s what people would think. Anyways.
Even the mere mention of devils made most people cower in fear.
And with good reason.
He had learned, the hard way, that devils weren’t something to be toyed with. Something like magical beasts. Lurking in the woods with a sense of danger, but still very possible to overpower.
Devils were the real deal.
...
Where were they anyhow?
Nacht looked around. And it was... eerily quiet.
Too quiet.
No one to blabber into his ear or climbing onto his shoulder...And it was odd. Very. Odd.
“But you’re so cute~!”
What in the devil- he walked around the corner to see you, pinching the cheeks of Gimodelo.
“Oh what an absolutely adorable little handsome devil you are,” you cooed before turning your attention to Plumede. “And so are you!”
The devils didn’t seem... too bothered by the affection or the compliments. They only wiggled away if you pinched them too hard for their liking. Who would’ve thought? That they might enjoy being... shown affection? Attention? Called handsome, of all things?
And Nacht... that poor devil could just stare.
His eyes were widened, and he just... stared.
Because... what-, how does one even begin to think that a fellow squad member, yeah sure a Black Bull, but still! Would be pinching the cheeks of devils and call them cute.
Did you know what they were?
Think they were just some strange house pets?
That seemed like the likeliest option.
“You do know that they’re devils, right?” He asked. He had to ask. Maybe see the flinch of terror that people sometimes had when one would mention something about the demonic.
Your head turned to look at him with a smile, like he would have asked a trivial question. Like what colour was the sky.
“Yeah, I know,” you replied with a casual tone that was so soft. Especially considering the topic. And just... turned your attention back to the quartet and continued from where you left off.
While Nacht... He wasn’t exactly sure what to make of it.
Maybe he should have called you daft. Or insane. That you didn’t know what was good for you or... or then... it was something that he wasn’t-, sure how to call yet.
Interesting was the closest that he could come up with; a good enough of a word to use in the circumstances. But... maybe that would be... suitable. For now.
Interesting.
Intriguing.
Get to know you; someone who was so happily pinching the cheeks of four little devils.
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lenaariewrld · 3 days
Text
C.16 — are u mad at me (w) *
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ON THE AIR — childe x reader smau
| SYNOPSIS;; Teyvat University’s popular radio personality, Y/n L/n, has only one gripe with her life. Her classmate, neighbour, and all-around nuisance in her life, Tartaglia. Their rivalry extends just past academics and, to her horror, into her work. He becomes the music director and co-host for her radio show, working alongside her most nights and forcing himself even deeper into her life. But is he really trying to just be friends, or is there an ulterior motive to his actions?
| WARNING !! this chapter contains explicit content/smut, so minors/ageless blogs PLEASE DNI!! the explicit parts will be marked with *** so anyone who wishes to avoid that can skip it and it won't affect your understanding of the story! other than that, pls enjoy the unedited, very tame filth of this^^
| WC: 6.0k
previous! ~ masterlist ! ~ next!
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You, Ganyu, and Keqing were already in the studio when Childe came in with his little grocery haul, a binder tucked in his arms too. He’d taken to bringing physical copies of the script for himself, as well as the cd’s he burned the playlists onto. When he closes the door behind him with a little kick, the conversation the three of you were indulged in came to a temporary halt. You leaned back in your chair and greet him by holding out your hand, wordlessly asking for the treats.
He rolls his eyes, handing over the plastic baggie he was carrying. “Thanks!” You chirp happily, setting the bag on the little table once it was passed to your hands. You dig around, handing Keqing her snack and taking out your own things. You also set Childe’s snacks in front of the empty seat for him. He sets your drink down in front of you and takes his seat.
The whole exchange is mostly wordless and takes only a few seconds before the conversation kicks back in. Keqing gets to business immediately, any of the light-hearted ribbing or mindless chatter traded for her notes about the recording and letting you guys know the mics were extra sensitive that day and to be mindful of your volume. You nod along, dragging your swivel chair behind you as she quickly ushers you and Childe into the booth.
For the third recording in a row, you and Childe work perfectly well together, flowing through the conversations and jokes rather easily. Only, you find yourself getting distracted on occasion. You’re staring. Drifting off when you’re not speaking. Your eyes even, as if on instinct, fall on Childe, watching the way he queues up songs halfway through your sentences, ready to transition into them. Or the way he adjusts himself in his seat while he’s speaking. And you notice how relaxed he looks, a lot more than in the past couple of episodes. Or maybe you’re just now noticing that fact.
And, fuck, he looks good. He’s just wearing a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, a casual enough outfit that really doesn’t let you see much at all and would, in fact, look messy on other people. But it’s fitted enough for him. 
He rolls up his sleeves halfway through or so, and you can’t help the way your eyes drift to his arms, the way his muscles flex as he moves to mess with the buttons and knobs on the desk–adjusting certain things with the mix as it plays –and the way his jaw clenches whenever he swallows a laugh, his adam’s apple bobbing as he settles on chuckling at your half-thought retort to whatever he just said. You notice the way his fingers drum on his thigh when he’s leaning back in his own chair, turning back and forth while you do your own thing.
You can’t help but feel like a nun being drawn to sin. The shame of staring and yet the enticing allure of it turning over in your stomach until it’s sufficiently tangled in little knots.
And maybe it’s because you haven’t gotten properly laid in months, your schedule far too busy once school started for you to have many flings (though, truth be told, you weren’t into the appeal of hookups, really. Only once or twice when you were really desperate but not now). Maybe that’s why your mind keeps being fixated on him and every little habit of his.
Childe catches your eyes only once and you immediately turn away, keeping your eyes squarely on the script or the mic directly in front of you as you keep recording. Your shirt feels too warm on your skin all of a sudden.
Shake it off, ignore it.
You chastise yourself internally. But everytime you blink, your mind goes back to that night at the club. That night a week ago, when you’d lost any good sense still in your head and have yet to regain. Now it was all foggy and grey, the exact memories of what happened a blur, but you remember the feeling and you remember the way your chest felt like a percussionist’s wet dream with how crazy your heart had been racing. You were sure there was some fucked up part of your brain that was still hungover, that had to be the only reason you were still like this.
It takes a grueling amount of time, but finally the recording finishes and Ganyu and Keqing begin to edit over the audio and whatnot, working together once again to put the finished product together before any of y’all call it a night. You sigh and lean your elbows against the edge of the desk, careful not to jostle any of the equipment too badly. Despite how long you’ve spent in this little studio, you weren’t entirely sure how delicate everything was. You barely register the ginger man beside you getting up.
“You… seemed a little out of it,” Childe notices when he comes back, slumping back into his seat with his drink in hand. He balances it on his knee between drinks.
“Did I?” You glance at him from the corner of your eye.
Even casually like this, he’s managed to look attractive. He hasn’t styled his hair at all like he would during the day for classes or outings, and he’s not wearing any makeup like he does on stage, allowing you to see the many freckles dotting his skin from his face down his neck and disappearing behind the navy blue fabric of his hoodie. “I dunno,” He shrugs, taking another sip from his drink before setting the cup on the floor, out of the way. “I mean, you kept spacing out and weren’t as… sharp as you usually are,” He explains.
He shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket, his elbows on the arm rests. “Maybe I’m wrong, though,” He shrugs once again.
You simply hum in response.
It falls silent, the two of you watching the other women as they work away. Two minutes turns to ten and then to twenty, and eventually your brain starts to drift elsewhere. Again, it goes back to that night. Recalling the feeling of Childe’s lips on yours, your skin warm and alive. The way he so desperately held onto you, a hold that seemed like he didn’t want to let go either.
“Finished,” Keqing’s voice jostles you out of your daydream as she announces herself, standing up. You perk up, scooting your chair forward. She shuts off her computer and slides it into its case in her backpack. “I have to go help one of the professors I’m TA’ing for grade papers, so I can’t help shut everything down… Can you guys handle it?” She looks between you and Childe, as if questioning if she can trust the two of you to be left alone without burning the place down. You can’t entirely fault her for her hesitance.
“Oh yeah! Me and Y/n can do it..” Childe assures. He looks at Ganyu when she opens her mouth to speak. “I mean, you probably need your rest too, right? And I think we’ll be fine by ourselves for one night,” He adds. Your eyes widen at his confidence, looking over at him like a deer caught in headlights. Collecting yourself a second later, you nod along. He was just being helpful, he wasn’t insinuating anything. Surely.
Ganyu agrees to head home and try to rest with your assurances, packing up her things and giving you a quick hug. You wish her a goodnight and close the door behind her. Now, you find yourself alone with Childe for the second time in that recording studio.
You’re quiet as you and Childe begin to pack everything up, finding your tasks and rhythm to do things separately. On occasion, you end up reaching for the same cable and you jump back immediately at the contact, refusing to meet his eyes as you turn to do something else. By the eighth occurrence of that happening, the man huffs quietly.
“Y/n, are you mad at me or something?” He asks.
“What? No,” You shake your head, flashing a short placating smile before returning to the cable you were wrapping up. Ever since the two of you started to get along more, Childe seemed to understand your tells and how to read your behavior quickly. It’s terrifying to you that he learned you so well and so fast.
“Then..” He presses his lips together, shuffling his chair closer to yours. “What’s up with you,” He pushes, gently taking the cables from your hands. You lean back dramatically in your chair, letting out a long sigh. Your mind runs through multiple ideas of how you could play off why you’re being out of character. Bad days, overwhelming classwork, or even just being exhausted don’t seem to perfectly dismiss it. You sigh again.
“It’s stupid,”
“Eh, everything sort of is. Doesn’t mean it’s bad,” He replies calmly, leaning down in his chair and tucking the cables under the desk securely. You watch him for a second.
What’s the worst that could happen..?
“The other night,” You begin and he pauses. You know he knows what you’re talking about, remembering the same details you do (or more, since he seems to hold his liquor far better than you). “I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”
“Are you uncomfortable with me now because of it? I promise I’m not thinking something of it, and I won’t try anything,”
Childe is quick to assure you and you snort in amusement, running your hand over your face. This situation was absurd. This conversation was absurd! And his responses seemed to be the cherry on top of this cake of weirdness and awkward tension. You fidget with the strings of your cutoff shorts, the hem tangled and messy where you’d distressed it haphazardly.
“No,” You finally admit, dropping your hands and running them over your bare legs. He turns to you then, his brows raised. He says nothing, allowing you to continue, but his interest is piqued. “I mean…” Again, your fingers run over your thighs, your palms massaging away the nerves starting to bubble up. At least, you were attempting to do that. “It’s just been on my mind lately because… it’s…been a while,” You finally manage to say it, throwing all caution to the wind. “Since I was kissed like that,” You add when he continues to stare at you wordlessly.
He blinks. “‘Kissed like that’?” He parrots, sitting up properly in his chair again. He continues to stare at your expression, the rising blush forming on your cheeks and down your neck, the fidgeting of your hands, the way your eyes dart around but not meeting his gaze. When it finally clicks a second later, his face lights up and he looks at you with a simpering smile. “You’re horny, aren’t you?”
You squawk indignantly at his brazen words, swatting at his arm. “Don’t fucking say it like that!” You chastise, fighting the urge to smile. Ridiculous. Childe doesn’t take your faux annoyance seriously, laughing and throwing his head back, fully and completely amused by the turn the conversation took. You roll your eyes, chuckling alongside him.
“I won’t judge,” He says when he finally calms down. “It’s been a hot minute for me too.. It was nice to know I wasn’t… rusty,” He grimaces as he says that last word, scratching the side of his neck almost awkwardly. You chuckle again, nodding in understanding. At least you both seem to be in a similar boat and you’re not a freak for thinking about something like that (not that you would be in normal circumstances, but it feels much deeper knowing the history you two share). The air in the room seems to drop, growing thick in the after of your shared confessions, the two of you silent in contemplation.
Childe stares off at the wall and you once again fidget with your shorts.
What if… 
You’re definitely not drunk, and you’re definitely not under any high-running emotions when the idea comes to you, but it still pops in your head and you still pause as you consider it. Truthfully, you’re not sure what boldness draws you to initiate this time, and you have no excuse other than, perhaps, pure curiosity (that’s gotta be it!). You lean forward in your chair, catching his attention when you grab the arm rest of his chair and pull yourself a little closer, your knees bumping against his.
He looks at you, looks at the hand on his arm rest, and then you again.
You swallow quickly, your stomach tangling itself all up again as you pluck up the courage to speak your mind “Would you… want to test it again?” You ask. Childe’s brows jump up on his forehead as he stares at you incredulously, watching your face. He’s checking your expression, you realise, looking for any hints that you might be teasing him or a sign of mischief. Anything that said you were playing a sick joke on him for what he’d admitted to you.
When you don’t falter or crack a joke, though it takes everything in you to not back down and backtrack in the face of his silence, he nods. It’s almost shy, unsure. He sits up in his chair and scoots forward to meet you halfway. The corners of your mouth fight to pull into a smile, his little mannerisms striking something in your chest. There’s at least three separate times you can rescind your question, but it all goes out the window as he presses his lips to yours.
His kiss is soft this time, unlike the messy fire that the first kiss had been. It ignites you all the same and you kiss him back, insistent against his lips. His reservations seem to melt at your eagerness, at the way you don’t hesitate to tangle your fingers in the curls of his hair, pulling him in deeper.
And then it’s there again, the need and the heady feeling clouding your good decision making when you taste his tongue, whatever slushie he’d been drinking fruity and intoxicating like any alcohol. Maybe even more so. He kisses you like you’re the air he breathes, holding onto the back of your neck, and he leans forward to hover over you. The angle is awkward and would hurt your neck if you gave a shit, but neither of you care at that time, too absorbed in this.
Your lungs scream for air, and he’s sure he’d gladly asphyxiate on your kiss, but you pull him away, tugging at his hair. A low noise rumbles in his throat, his eyes opening just enough to take you in. The sheen of your lips, the string of saliva on your tongues, the flush of your face and the heave of his chest as he takes in the oxygen he unfortunately needs. Childe looks over your face and it’s clear that this isn’t nearly enough. It’s like having a taste of a sweet dessert and expecting either of you to not want more bites.
***
So he dives back in when you wordlessly nod, kissing you breathless once more. Your body arched towards him, a shiver running down your spine as one of his hands slid over your body, down your sides and legs. He held your hips, his lips on your jaw. “Look at you, so clingy all of a sudden..” His voice was thick, lower as he whispered in your ear, a mocking tone in his words that made your skin run hotter than before.
“Childe,” You moan and sigh his name all at once, your nails scratching against his scalp deliciously. It’s exhilarating, a thrill that sets your nerves alight at every touch and motion from him. Your head is starting to float as he continues his attack against your skin, his teeth sending sparks as he nips at your neck.
And he’s strong, dammit, annoyingly so as his hands continue to hold your hips down, restricting the way you want to roll against his body, desperate for friction– for more.
“Childe, please,” He’s ruthless as his kisses trail further down, and he chuckles dryly.
“Already begging?” He cocks his head to the side.
You sneer a little bit at his cocky attitude, tugging harshly at his hair. That elicits another noise from the man, a soft whine as he grabs your waist tighter, almost a bruising touch. Your stomach burns. “Childe, I’m not asking again, give me more,” Your voice is quiet but nonetheless demanding, and Childe relents his teasing. He leans back, situating himself in his chair again and pulling you with him. Obediently, you slide from your chair onto his lap, sighing pleasantly as his fingers trail down your sides and onto your thighs. He glances at you through his lashes, holding you up slightly.
He’s checking for permission, but when you nod, he only smiles in coy innocence. “I don’t speak head shakes, baby,” His fingers massage the fat of your thighs, toying just at the hem of your shorts, dangerously close to where you need him.
With an impatient whine, you lift your hips against his hands. “Fuck me, please,” You concede. Childe hums appreciatively, pulling your knees apart and placing a chaste kiss against your shoulder.
“Good job,” He coos sweetly. The man wastes no time in unbuttoning your shorts and untucking your shirt. He kisses messily at your neck as he pulls the denim down your legs, aiding you in the movement to lift your hips so he can pull them off and toss them to the side. As soon as the cool air hits you, you shiver, your hands sliding from his hair to hold yourself up by his shoulders.
His eyes were glued to you, dark and hungry.
“Aren’t you so pretty?” He says as his hands toy at the edge of your panties. “I’d have done this sooner if I knew how cute you looked all flushed like this.” He teases lightly, smiling.
He doesn’t let you respond before he’s moved on to kissing under your jaw. Your heart jumps at his words, kickstarting a fast pace in your chest. He seems to know this, his eyes glancing at your face and the blush that spreads across your face. Your body temperature raises a million more degrees at the quirk of his brows. And all he’s done is kiss you. His breath is hot, burning you alive.
Goosebumps rise on your skin as his lips stall against your skin, one of his hands dipping between your thighs, experimentally brushing over your clothed cunt. A soft moan escapes you as he circles his finger over your clit, rolling your hips against his hand.
“Fuck,” You grip at the fabric of his hood, grinding on his palm.
“Feels good?” The man laughs, his smile still curled on his lips when you nod a little too eager. His free hand takes hold of your chin, gentle but firm as he pulls you into a kiss. You melt against him, whining as he continues his ministrations over the thin cotton. Childe uses your reactions as a map, his quick learning apparently applicable here as well.
If you weren’t lost in the stimulation he was providing, you might feel embarrassed. Your hips buck every now and then, your mouth hanging open in pants and gasps, noises that Childe happily drinks up, tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth. You were thankful for how long the recording had run that night, assured that no one else was on this floor and could possibly hear your noises through all of the walls separating the two of you from the hallway.
Your head is stuffed with cotton clouds, your body moving on instinct, when the ginger stills his hand against your clit, pressing harshly on the bundle of nerves. “Ahf–what the fuck,” Your forehead rests against his, stuttering your hips as your incoming orgasm comes to a screeching halt. Your breaths intermingle as he smiles, smoothing his hand over the back of your head.
“Calm down, baby,” Childe coos in a mockingly sweet tone, laughing as you pinch his bicep in retaliation. For all the teasing he’s doing, you can tell he’s just as affected as you, his eyes lidded and his ears a bright red.
“You’re the worst,” The venom in your voice is gone. You know you don’t actually mean it. You wouldn’t be in this situation if you didn’t. The man hums, amused by your attitude.
“‘M sure I am,” He groans against your mouth, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your underwear. The cotton stretches around your thighs, but you’re too buzzed by his proximity to fully discard them, and he’s too eager to feel you. Childe is still kissing you senseless, your mouth hanging open as he drags his fingers through the slick of your folds, toying with your clit again before sinking two fingers inside you.
You reward him with a whine, your fists clenched tightly in the fabric of his hoodie. And, god, it’s addicting. The way he reacts to your body, shuddering and swallowing your quiet moans, like getting you off is his only life’s goal.
You understand why so many girls feel enraptured with him.
Your hips roll against his hand, pushing his fingers deeper. “Oh fuck,” Your blood is pumping even quicker, a loud drum in your ears as you chase the high. He’s stretching you so well, thrusting at a steady pace while you ride his hand like it’s the last time you’ll ever experience this kind of pleasure. It might as well be, the way you’re on fire for him. The way his lips latch onto the juncture of your neck and shoulders, whispering praises. His thumb works in tandem with his fingers to circle your clit messily, his other hand tight on your waist, guiding your rhythm or palming your chest over the thin shirt.
“Yes, fuckfuckfuck, yes–Childe,” You blabber mindlessly, high and floating. This burning, this tension, this tightrope you’ve both been walking converges all into this moment, and you’re suddenly forgetting anything prior to this. It’s just you and Childe as he fucks you with his fingers, leaving bites and hot kisses all over your body.
He groans against your chest, feeling the way you tighten around him, you’re body picking up pace as your hips bounce erratically on his fingers. You’re chasing your high, too heady to care how eager or desperate you look.
You don’t care.
You want this, you want him.
“Childe, Childe, Childe, need to cum–” You moan and hold tighter onto his shoulders, white knuckling. Your thighs are burning, and your stomach feels tight with your oncoming orgasm, a tightening precipice edging closer with every curl of his index and middle finger. He nods, wordlessly focusing his efforts on fucking you faster, and deeper, massaging your clit.
Your body is buzzing with the stimulation. You fail to form full words, babbling mindlessly between pants and whines and other ungodly noises. It falls from your lips freely, and Childe soaks it all in like it’s his favorite song.
Who fucking knew how irresistable you sounded like this?
He holds your hips even tighter the closer you get, helping you to move your hips. And it crashes over you quick and dirty, white-hot electric as the feeling courses through your veins. It’s everything and it’s better than your fantasies could ever give you, and in an instant it’s crashing through your entire system, washing over you and fizzling out almost as quickly as it came. Your body is buzzing, whirring as you whine pathetically, still riding his fingers as he rides you through the motions.
Childe kisses your neck as you come down, your head falling back. Your chest heaves, your fingers flexing in his hoodie once again. “Such a good girl, and you look so pretty,” He compliments in a sweet voice, dripping with honey as he helps you come back down.
It isn’t until your breathing has returned semi-normal again that he finally pulls his fingers out, his hand stroking your jaw. “You did so good for me, hm?” He strokes your chin with his thumb, sliding up to your bottom lips. Glossy and swollen from his kisses and tongue. They part easily for him. “Want to clean me up, princess?” The mocking in his tone returns but you can’t deny this time that it does something to you.
Your eyes are low, and you eagerly tilt your head, taking his fingers in your mouth. Warm and inviting as your tongue slides over his digits, your eyes locked in his.
“Good girl,” He coos. Pride swells in your chest.
“Need you now,” You say once he’s sufficiently clean. Childe tilts his head adoringly. His faux cute voice and his charming boyish-ness contrast the cocky attitude he has on display, but you can’t get enough. You need this like you need nicotine in your veins, a whole new drug to fuel your system when he taunts and riles you up. All with a sweet smile that has your knees weak.
“What do you mean, baby?” His voice is low, casual like he’s talking normally to you. You loop your arms around his neck and lean forward, pressing your chest to his. He tilts his head up, face-to-face as your noses brush. You can tell he’s just as addicted to you. His eyes glimmering bright, his cheeks and ears flushed a bright tomato red.
And the tent in his sweats helps clue you in, too.
“Need you inside me, baby,” You whisper husky, dropping a hand to drift over the toned planes of his chest, feeling him even through the hoodie. And damn, if he looked as good as he felt, you hoped you got another chance for this. Childe chuckles, charmed by your actions. “Get this off first,”
He squeezes your thigh affectionately. “Yes, ma’am,” His reply is semi sarcastic and you roll your eyes, playing into this dynamic. Both of you are amused, the corners of your mouths fighting off smiles while he pulls off his hoodie and shirt.
“Mmm,” You hum appreciatively as he exposes his torso, your eyes raking over his form. The curves and dips of his chest to his stomach, to the v-line dipping below his sweatpants. He’s built, and you can tell he’s strong just by the look of him. The muscles of his stomach flex with every breath. You let your hand trail down his skin, tapping on the freckles painting his skin, connecting the dots all the way down to his waistband.
“Take ‘em off, pretty,” He encourages, lifting his hips. His hands are still planted firmly on your thighs. No, this was a job for you to do.
You pull at the elastic of his sweatpants until they come undone, glancing between his face and his body. He was a god-given specimen. Much as you may not have wanted to initially admit it to yourself. Childe was attractive, and he earned that acknowledgment from you. You’re biting your lips, hungry as you pull his waistband down just enough to free his hard-on.
“Fuck,” A quiet groan escapes your parted lips, your hand circling around his cock. He grips your thighs tighter just slightly. Whimpering, his hips nearly buck up as you experimentally twist your wrist just slightly. “Sensitive,” You comment, taking your own turn to tease him.
“Fuck–always am with you,” He’s melting against the chair as he groans that, falling apart on your featherlight touches, stroking his tip down to the base. Painfully slow, torturous even. You hum, tightening your hold around him just slightly, a wicked smile on your face when he whines and bucks his hips. “Feel-feels good, baby,” He manages to get out.
“Yeah?” You’re purring as you continue your motions, but you don’t go faster.
Instead, you lift yourself up just slightly, balancing on his shoulder with your free hand. You line up his cock with your eager hole, already so wet and ready for him. You roll your hips against his tip. You swear you see his brain short circuit, a weird sound catching in his throat, somewhere between a grunt and a gasp.
“W-wait,” He blinks his eyes open slightly, his hands sliding up to your waist. “Condom,” He motions his head in the direction of his bag. You blink once or twice as you realise what he’s saying.
“R-right,” You lean forward to kiss him before you climb off, managing to get over to his bag without stumbling. You couldn’t put this off, but you were going to be responsible at the very least, goddammit.
Returning with the condom, you take your place on his lap. He reaches for the condom package but you hold it above your head. “Hands off, pretty boy,”
“Aw, you think I’m pretty,” Childe bats his lashes, falling back in his seat. You shake your head, swallowing while his hands smooth over your hips and waist, reassuring and grounding touches. You rip open the package and roll it over his hard dick, rolling your wrist to get him worked up again. He smiles into the next groan he lets out, bliss rocking through his body.
Then you lower onto his cock, spreading your thighs as much as the chair will allow as you take him into your eager cunt. Your walls flutter around the width of him. Even with his fingers stretching you and your own experiences, Childe is still big. He fills you up, sending shivers across your body as you sink inch-by-inch.
A chest-deep moan escapes the man as your pussy clenches around him, sucking him in. “Holy shit,” He grunts, one of his hands gripping the arm of his chair. It takes everything in him not to move his hips, desperately wanting to bury himself in your warmth. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He should’ve done this sooner. You should’ve done this sooner. You’re both gone as you finally sink down, breathless again as you bottom out on his length. You’ve never felt this full. You feel like you’re on cloud nine and you haven’t even moved. Childe doesn’t try to rush you as you adjust to him, panting with your head on his shoulder and squeezing his biceps.
“Good?” He questions softly, and you nod against his neck.
“Good,” You mumble, “So fucking good,” He hums in response, massaging your waist.
When you finally move, he whimpers again, holding onto you like a lifeline as you swirl your hips, sinking down. Lift, fall, lift, fall. You set a rhythm slowly, picking up pace as you feel the way he pushes into you again and again, hitting that deep spongy spot inside you, filling up your wet cunt, stretching you so very deliciously.
This is better than cocaine (not that you’ve ever done that).
“Yes, baby, just like that,” Childe encourages. “Fuck, fuck–fuck,” He curses over and over while you ride him, going faster now, squeezing him tight. Your pussy has a vice grip on his cock, dragging him in. He desperately lifts his hips to meet every drop of yours, thrusting up into you and making you bounce. “Fuck, you’re so fucking good–” Childe smooths his hands over your spine, kneading the fat of your ass, squeezing your thighs.
He can’t keep his hands off you, and he can’t keep his mouth from running, his thoughts unfiltered and filthy as you ride his cock like a carousel ride. He’s a goner, his head swimming with clouds, lust blinding every sense and moral he might’ve had. All he knows, all he cares about, is fucking you stupid.
“Ahf, please– Childe,fuckfuck–fuck!” You squeal and roll your hips, moaning and panting against his clammy skin, electrified by his actions. You can feel another orgasm building inside you, that cord pulling into a knot with every thrust of his cock against that sweet spot. “Please, need to cum, baby, need to come on your cock, pleaseplease,” You feed into his own sinful encouragements, repeating it like a mantra as you desperately buck your hips, whining when he thrusts up into you, fucking you extra full.
The both of you pant and moan, closer and closer to that precipice of euphoria as your orgasms build. Childe still manages to speak but you fall to notice, getting louder and more incoherent between his broken whines and cries of ‘how good you take me’ and ‘such a pretty little face’. You can tell he’s getting close now as he slumps back in his seat, his hands a bruising iron-grip on your ass as he holds you in place, mustering all of his remaining strength to fuck you again and again and again.
He gives you little warning of his orgasm, and yours follows just seconds after as you roll and circle your hips, your toes curling and your thighs clenching around his hips. A load moan falls from your lips and your body stutters as your second orgasm watces over you, your pussy clenching tight on his hard cock.
Childe’s gone in a second, cumming so fast and hard, he sees stars in his vision, his body moving on instinct as he slows down. His jaw goes slack and he pants out over his orgasm, the current setting his nerves on fire coming in waves before it calms down. You ride out your highs together, panting and sweaty and hot, but neither of you moves for a long time.
***
You collapse against his chest, blinking back unshed tears from your screwed shut eyes, bliss stuffing your head full of cotton still. Childe stares up at the ceiling for a moment, allowing you both the moment to recollect yourselves. When he’s sure his heart isn’t going to burst out of his chest and run down the hallway screaming bloody murder, his arms circle around you. He brushes some hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear, causing you to look up at him, your chin on his chest.
“You good?” He asks, quirking his brow curiously. You can only smile, pleased, a quiet hum in your throat. But he catches it and the way it rattles in your chest, rumbling in his as well like an echo. He chuckles and rubs your back soothingly, his hand underneath your shirt but not uncomfortably. He seems satisfied with what transpired.
Truthfully, you are too.
“You know…” He leans his cheek on his shoulder. “It’s been a while since I’ve been with a girl like that,” He admits.
“Ah, you’re not going to fall in love with me because of this, are you?” You tease, squeezing his bicep as if to let him know you’re just playing a joke. He laughs and tickles the space just beneath your shoulder blades, conjuring a shiver that has your body tingling. He looks over your face, taking you in and all of your features, before he looks at the wall.
“If you… feel that way again, I don’t mind helping out..” He tells you after a few more seconds, staring at the desk of equipment. He doesn’t meet your eyes until you sit up a little bit, looking at him curiously. “I’m serious,” He adds. “Clearly you enjoy it, and I do too,” He glances over the both of you, his eyes noticeably staring at the curve of you, the plush of your thighs, the fat of your stomach, the curve of your chest and your waist. And, he stares at where you two are still connected.
Your face feels warm and you look away. “Point,” Is all you respond…
After that, you both calm down and shuffle into getting dressed. You don’t respond outwardly to his promise, but it sticks in the back of your mind as you shimmy back into your shorts, turning your back on him politely as he fixes his sweats and pulls his hoodie back on. The air is shifted between you two, no longer thick with tension and not uncomfortable but… different.
You finish cleaning up, spraying a couple spritz of your perfume to hide your deeds and activities before you both lock up and head to your cars. Much like the night at the bar, this one doesn’t leave your mind, and you can’t help but wonder if you did the right thing…
———
A/Ns: sooo... y/n and childe huh? anyway y'all like the color blue? lmaoooo this chapter took a bit to write cuz i was lowk struggling but anyway i hope its still enjoyable !! likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated, and don't forget i love you <33
TAGLIST: @popiizpops @scaradooche @yourfavoritefreakyhan @neversore @monocerosei @dontmindtheevie @kittywagun @yumidepain
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nishayuro · 3 days
Note
Could I request a headcanon of the brothers with a tsundere MC please?
Obey Me Demon Brothers with a Tsundere! MC
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A/N: I have not written for obey me in a minute T.T, I have also not played Obey Me in so long, OMNB was not for me lmao, I hope this still delivers
Genre: Fluff
Warning: Spoilers for early game lore 
GN!MC
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Lucifer
He’d take it as a challenge to break your mask.
He loves that you’re cold on the outside, but only he gets to see your soft moments
There are times where you’re denying your feelings for him in front of others.
While your words are telling lies, your flustered face says otherwise.
He takes pride when your mask breaks in front of others because of him.
Mammon
Two tsunderes pining for each other??? How bad can that get?
Gets really bad
Your conversations are usually just both of you hiding how much of a simp you are for each other.
Mammon’s really bad at it
Your interactions and dancing around each other got soo annoying that Asmo just had to intervene.
Let’s say both you and Mammon became a blushing mess after
Leviathan
At first he thought you were mean
You were cold, and he thought you hated him after the whole TSL quiz scene
But then your facade broke in front of him
You remind him of the protagonist in one of his fave animes, “Help! I thought my crush hates me but they’re just a tsundere”
He appreciates it even if ur a bit mean to him, he knows what you really mean
Tsundere x Dandere??? 
Satan
He can read you like an open book
He enjoys seeing you act all cold, but will bend at the slightest bit of affection from him
He likes that your soft side is for him only
Enjoys your flustered face whenever you try to be mean to him
A menace
Asmodeus
He’s been with tons of people, he knows how to handle a tsundere
Doesn’t mind your cold exterior, treats you as he would even if you weren’t a tsundere
Likes to whine tho when you deny him of affection, he knows you can’t really say no to him
Likes seeing you cold to others, it makes him feel special
Beelzebub
He doesn’t even know what a tsundere is
Thinks you’re just shy honestly or an introvert
I feel like you can’t in good conscience be mean to Beel
He won’t even notice that you’re cold or what, he’s used to Mammon’s antics
He loves u and you cannot successfully be a tsundere with this man
Belphegor
I feel like he genuinely thinks you’re mad at him after THAT whole incident
He’s kinda sad, but realised that no… you’re just really like that.
Asks Satan about it, concludes you’re a Tsundere
He’d be having a field day breaking your cold exterior
Is happy when he finally sees your soft side
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talkbycolor · 5 hours
Text
MC's kindergarden . . . ↷
Yanderes as toddlers AU
GN!Reader as a teacher who doesnt get paid enough for this.
CW: just a bunch of weird kids wanting to marry their teacher, keep scrolling
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Sunny Day Jack.
the golden child, the angel of the classroom, he is a little devil in disguise, getting his classmates into trouble so that his teacher thinks he is the best
he looks like a mini teacher, he teaches colors to his classmates and shares everything (except the teacher)
uses guilt to convince his teacher, but with that little face and red cheeks, who wouldn't fall for it?
a very intelligent child but he is selfish, he learned to steal cookies from the kitchen and has not told anyone
he gives part of his lunch to his teacher, he likes to eat and sit next to him, he is the child who gives bouquets of flowers picked from the playground (MC already scolded him so he should look for other places to get flowers)
MC doesn't usually scold him often since he manipulates and makes kicked puppy eyes to get his way, a mini bastard
John Doe.
probably autistic and socially anxious child, very attached to MC, they must always accompany him to go to the bathroom, he eats in the classroom during recess time while MC teacher accompanies him
this is the child you have to make sure doesn't go through the trash or eat the crayons
he is actually a very sweet boy, MC usually combs his hair before school so it doesn't bother him, for some reason Doe always has it tangled and dirty
he can't count to 10 with his hands, poor thing
cat-like affection, gives insects or interesting things he found on the playground to his teacher
when the children play house, he is the mascot
Alan Orion.
boy obsessed with outer space, his lunch box and clothes are full of planets and stars
wants to impress MC with his knowledge about space, he usually tells them facts about galaxies and constellations during classes
MC of course would notice certain marks on Alan's little body, he would feel protective of the child (llamen al dif)
he steals things from his classmates, he was already scolded several times by MC
animal lover, once brought a moth he found on the playground into the classroom and Doe ate it, he cried for thirty minutes while MC comforted him
when he plays with puppets he pretends that one puppet is him and the other is MC, usually his games are of them getting married and living in the forest
Peter Dunbar.
a very sociable child simply because he is indifferent to all other people other than MC, he enjoys causing mischief to his classmates who play with MC
MC has to make sure Peter doesn't bite his fingers or scratch his face, a habit he has while concentrating
Peter looks like a bald rat when it's very hot weather, which MC finds funny, but they still puts sunscreen on him so the boy doesn't get sun-burned
even though there are many things that Peter doesn't like, like swimming, fruits or singing, he would do it for MC, adding the biggest embarrassment of his life by doing group dance with his classmates but happy to see his favorite teacher smiling
he would bring sweet lunches to share with his teacher, lying by saying that it is too much and he can't eat it all by himself (Peter loves sweet lunches but he loves his teacher more)
probably draws him and MC on the board with lots of hearts around them, causing the other kids in the classroom to start crying because they want to be the only ones for MC
Ren.
a cutie with his teacher, a bastard with everyone else, he knows how to maintain that image very well to fool MC
he sneaks into the staff room to see you, very attentive, isn't he? sometimes he leaves small gifts on your table
fights with Peter every time he tries to get him in trouble with the teacher, he must maintain his good boy reputation for you to love him!
the last time a girl confessed to him, Ren pushed her into the mud of the playground and made her cry, unfortunately the girl told MC and Ren also cried, not because of the scolding but because he didn't want MC to think that he was bad
once he saw you outside of class time, you were at the supermarket and he panicked because he had fake tattoos that he put on (they came in the packaging of the gum he ate)
MC would come to think that Ren lives in a super religious way since he always draws angels. Ren doesn't draw angels, he draws an angel (you)
Mycheal.
another little manipulator but this one cries every time he tricks MC and gets hugs illicitly (little baby)
he is a very hardworking child in class when it is time to do manual work, he likes to make small paper flowers for his teacher
the baby gets very sad every time he is left out of school projects, he doesn't know why no one seems to like him. surprisingly, he managed to get along fairly well with John Doe until he noticed his interest in MC
usually wraps his tail around MC's leg whenever he feels nervous or sick, that has been an indicator for MC to lull the child
kid who is a cotton candy fan, Peter pushed him while they were playing on the playground and his candy fell to the ground (he cried for 40 minutes)
kitten boy starts purring when MC praises his work
Keith and Tenebris.
as for them, I decided that they were twins in this AU (tenebris still has his blue skin and strange smile), they don't seem to get along very well and have a marked rivalry because they both want MC for themselves
Keith usually hates being in the classroom because his classmates are very noisy, MC has tried to help him with the overstimulation so that it is not an uncomfortable experience, since then Keith loves going to kindergarten
Tenebris does not get along with most of his classmates (if not all), he came close to befriending John Doe and Mycheal because they know what it's like to be treated differently because of how they look, but Doe scared him off by showing him a pair of beetles he found on the playground and Mycheal…well, just by being a liar
Keith is a very dedicated child, he likes to take care of the flowers in the playground with the help of MC, his teacher usually reads books about facts about flowers and apparently Keith is one of the few who pays attention (he cries every time that Jack plucks flowers from the garden to give them to MC)
Tenebris uses a toy guitar from the classroom to serenade his favorite teacher, that always kills MC with cuteness (Tenebris gets angry because it's not a real guitar)
when there are school trips, Keith always takes his teacher's hand and tries to pull them to see everything he finds interesting with them, whether it's a flower or a heart-shaped cloud
Tenebris always takes advantage when playing with swords with his classmates to satisfy his violent need to hurt everyone who likes MC, the game ends up turning into a real battle and Tenebris is scolded
Solivan Brugmansia.
at first glance, MC thought that the boy was always upset and didn't like him being around, but Sol just doesn't know what to do like when he's around his favorite teacher
the quiet child in the classroom, prefers to do his work alone, always takes the opportunity to draw MC with chalk on the playground
the boy is obviously obsessed (and not in a fun way) with his teacher, his parents came to the classroom angry because Sol had his sketchbooks full of sketches of you
you are the only person he allows to hold his stuffed animal, he leaves it with you whenever he goes to the bathroom and asks you to play with it, you don't think it's strange that Sol has a stuffed horse, children have strange toys all the time
Sol is clearly a target for bullying, you know it, you see it, so you have to constantly check that he is not hurt (Peter put gum in his hair once and he cried a lot)
SURPRISINGLY, he is one of the few children who has REAL friends, he has Hyugo, a classmate from another class, Hyugo knows about his crush on MC and is not very secretive, Sol has to cover his mouth or push him to the sandbox to make him shut up
Damon.
puppy love, usually chases other children on all fours and licks snot from his own nose
barks every time someone gets too close to MC but in the end the scolding is always worth it since MC teacher strokes his head when he doesn't promise it won't happen again (it will happen again)
he will believe anything you tell him, he is quite gullible with the things that MC says, if his teacher tells him that he can't dig holes in the playground because giant insects will come out of there that will eat everyone, Damon believes it
sweet tooth, loves chocolate, MC has to be careful with what his students eat, Damon often hides chocolate bars in his pockets and that always ends in MC confiscating the chocolates
Damon has a friend in another class who he calls DG, he is his best friend and again Damon is one of the few kids with real friends in your class, DG knows that Damon likes you but unlike Hyugo he is more secretive
when there are school dances, Damon gives his all, always trying hard, not only because he loves to dance but he also loves when his favorite teacher applauds and praises him
 ♡
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