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#WILL BE LOOKING BACK AT THIS DAILY WITH TEARS IN MY EYES JUST LAYING ON THE FLOOR WEEPING
ellecdc · 6 months
Note
DONT TEASE ME WITH PLATONIC BARTY AND BIG BRITHER SIRIUS STOP IM ON MY KNEES PLEASEE 🪩
okay so this accidentally ended up being almost 5.5k words??? whoopsie daisy.
this concept was a collaboration with @unstablereader and also intertwined a few requests for best friend Barty, big brother Sirius, and poly!moonwater hurt comfort!!
poly!moonwater x fem!reader who was bitten over the winter hols
p1 // p2
CW: Best Friend Barty (i.e., swearing, chaos, slight insanity), Big Brother Sirius (i.e., coddling, bad cop, certified dumbass), swearing swearing swearing, slight muggle blasphemy, description of wounds/blood/injury, discussion of Sacred 28 Pureblood Families, etc etc etc - hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending
Barty Crouch Junior was a plethora of dichotomies and contradictions. 
He was a good friend and a bad son. He was a smart boy who made horrible ideas. He was a rational person with unreasonable reactions. He was a menace and very reliable. He was a good lay and a bad boy. 
Barty liked that about himself though; he liked that no one ever knew what to expect when it came to Bartemus Crouch Junior. 
Though, he supposed to those who knew him, it would have been completely predictable for him to have stayed at Hogwarts over the winter holidays. Maybe he should have gone home – really surprised everyone then.
His nightly routine of trying to incendio Daily Prophet articles of his father with nonverbal and wandless magic was interrupted by an awkward thump on his dorm room door. 
“Come in?” Barty called awkwardly, unsure who might be at his door seeing as his friends were all home for the holidays and the staff here tended to avoid him like Dragon Pox.
The doorknob began to rattle but it sounded as if the person on the other side of the door was struggling to turn it.
“Salazar’s saggy balls. WHAT!?” He seethed as he ripped the door open, determined to teach whoever was stupid enough to bother him a lesson when he came face to face with you.
Except...except you were crying, and bloody, and so pale.
“Treasure!?” Barty squawked, awkwardly catching you as you began to slide down the door frame which you were leaning the entirety of your weight on. 
“Barty...I-” you started before a pained sob tore through your teeth. “I need help.”
“What happened?” Barty asked breathlessly, moving you from the door to his bed without your help after your left leg gave out on you.
“Barty...”
“What. Happened. Y/N?” He demanded.
“Barty, you cannot- cannot tell Reg and Remus. Pl- hnggh - please promise me you won’t tell them.”
“Tell them what, Treasure? What’s wrong!?” Barty pressed, beginning to panic when his bedding quickly became saturated with your blood. 
“Promise me!” You shrieked, your voice carrying the most clarity since you had arrived.
“Okay! I promise!” Barty agreed readily. You didn’t seem convinced, however.
You shakily held your pinky out to him and stared intensely at him. “Promise me that y-, that you will not tell Remus or, or Regulus.”
Barty looked between your eyes and your pinky before finally interlocking your pinky with his. “I promise I will not tell Remus or Regulus.”
More tears fell as you began pulling your long winter robes off. You were wearing a long sleeved shirt and long trousers, but Barty could tell most of the bleeding was coming from your leg. Your fingers were shaking too much as you unsuccessfully tried unbuttoning your trousers, so Barty silently asked for your permission before undoing the button and zip for you.
You pulled the pants to your knee to expose a large...werewolf bite on your left thigh.
“Treasure.” Barty breathed out horrified, looking back up at you with tears in his eyes. “What...what happened? No, I ... I can see what happened. How did this happen?”
“I...I just-”
And you passed out.
“No! No no no. Nononononono.” Barty chanted as he tried to rouse you awake.
“Okay Barty, come on, think. You didn’t achieve all twelve O.W.L’s for naught.” He berated himself, lying you down on his bed and pulling your trousers the rest of the way off.
He turned you onto your right side and tried elevating your leg to stop the blood flow after he realized a simple episkey was not going to close the wound.
He realized that the reason you’d been struggling to open the door was that your wrist appeared to be broken, and you’d been leaning onto the doorframe to keep your weight off of your injured leg. That he could fix with an episkey, so at least he wasn’t completely useless. 
His sweet, sweet Treasure. Bitten. By a werewolf!? Your parents...
Oh gods, your parents.
That’s why you were here.
You couldn’t go back home, not as a werewolf; your parents would kill you. The only thing worse to a Sacred 28 Family than a dead daughter would be a werewolf one.
Fuck. 
Fuck fuck fuck fuck.
And why couldn’t he tell Lupin and Regulus!? Lupin was probably the only person who could actually help you right now. Barty hated that – hated that someone else could help you and he couldn’t – but he also loved that you had people who loved you and could help you.
Fucking fuck, he was supposed to be burning moving pictures of his father right now, not trying to bring his best friend back from the brink of death.
“That’s enough Treasure, you need to wake up.” He muttered, shaking you by your shoulders gently. When that still didn’t work, he cast a quick rennervate. 
You groaned in pain and tried rolling onto your back. 
“No, Y/N, you need to stay like this. I need you to tell me what happened.”
You moaned again and turned back towards him; eyes shut tight in pain. 
“I...I needed to leave I, I – ugh.”
“Okay, okay. So you left, that much I can understand. How’d you get bitten?”
“I didn’t, I didn’t know it was there until it was too late, Barty. I swear it. I was following the trail behind my-my house and it just appeared! I fell back- backwards onto my arm when it lunged and I apparated once I realized what was happening, but it was...it was too- too late.”
“Where were you trying to go?”
“The Potter’s.”
“And why can’t you go there now?”
You opened your eyes at that, and Barty felt his heart fall out of his ass at the amount of pain that spilled from your eyes that had nothing to do with any of your various physical injuries.
“Rem... Rem hates himself. He hates The Wolf, he ha- hates his lycanthropy; he thinks he is a m... monster and deserves nothing. Barty, he’ll hate me.” You broke into a sob at the end of your sentence and Barty was very close to joining you.
He didn’t think you were right at all, mind you; he thinks it’d be rather impossible for anyone to hate you, least of all Lupin who seemed completely lovesick for you and Regulus. He didn’t think it was worth your energy to argue with you about it though, seeing as he already pinky promised not to go to the lycanthrope or your other boyfriend about this.
He didn’t know what to do, though. He needed to close this wound and stop the bleeding, he needed to pilfer from the infirmary, he needed to pilfer the potions supply closet, and he needed to figure out how to help a werewolf. And he needed to do all of these things whilst somehow not leaving your side at all. 
“I’m tired, Barty.” You murmured quietly, startling him from his internal panic.
“You can’t sleep, Treasure. Not until we close this wound and stop the bleeding.”
He pulled out his third year DADA textbook to find the chapter on werewolves. 
“Dangerous creature this, loss of moral sense that, right then – powdered silver and dittany applied to a fresh bite wound.” Barty recited as he read off his textbook. He looked over to your wound, still oozing and bleeding, though the new angle and elevation did seem to be helping staunch the blood flow at least a little.
“Right... fresh enough I suppose.” Barty sighed, making you promise to stay awake long enough for him to raid the potions supply closet and the infirmary to get the necessary ingredients.
Barty had been feeling quite confident in his plans.
Except something was very, very wrong.
The dittany and powered silver bubbled slightly where it interacted with your blood and flesh but didn’t seem to be sticking to your wound at all; it seemed that it was just causing you to moan in agony as Barty uselessly tried spreading it over your leg.
“You’re sure it was a werewolf that bit you?” He asked again. Barty was certain that if you were feeling better, you would have kicked at him.
He wished you could have kicked at him.
“Yes, Barty.” You cried.
“Oh, Treasure, I’m sorry.” He lamented, putting down his bowl of useless silver paste and brushing sweaty hairs away from your forehead.
“Salazar, you’re burning up, Y/N.” He commented, cupping your heated and flushed face with his hand. 
“I’m cold.” You argued, awkwardly trying to pull at his bedsheets to cover your arms. Barty hated to add more layers on you when your fever was this high, but he couldn’t really bring himself to deny you, either. 
Unfortunately, it appeared that Barty needed help. 
Unfortunately, Barty made you a promise.
Fortunately, there were ways around that. 
Unfortunately, that meant having to resort to a fate worse than death.
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“Oh! Hello there.” Mrs. Potter greeted Barty as she rounded the corner after being alerted by the house elf that there was a student at the floo. “Are you looking for Regulus?”
Barty adorned his most charming (and least maniacal) grin as he bowed politely to Mrs. Potter like the proper Pureblood he'd been beaten raised to be. 
“Euphemia Potter – looking as smashing as ever.” He said before returning to his full height. “Actually, I’m here for the lesser Black brother today.”
Mrs. Potter narrowed her eyes at his comment but pursed her mouth as if fighting back a smile.
“Am I to assume you’re referring to Sirius, Barty?”
Barty sighed in admiration. “Smart and pretty, Euphemia; how do you do it?”
“I’ll be right back, Mr. Crouch.” Mrs. Potter called over her shoulder as she left the floo reception room. Barty quickly pulled out the charmed compact mirror he had connected to a hand mirror which he had set up beside you before he left. You were asleep and shivering violently, but you were alive.
Help is coming, Treasure. 
“Oh.” Barty heard, causing him to close the mirror and look up to see a confused looking Sirius pausing mid-step into the room. “Sorry, I’ll go get Regulus for you.”
Barty scoffed derisively. “Oh, come off it Black – give the woman a little credit, yeah? I asked for you. Now let’s go.” He barked, turning towards the floo flame.
He turned back when he realized Sirius wasn’t following him.
“Hello??” He called sarcastically. “Did you not hear me? I said let’s go.”
Sirius looked Barty up and down and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“Why in the hells would I go anywhere with you?” Sirius asked bemusedly. 
“Black!” Barty seethed. “I do not have time for this, we have to go now.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what this is about.”
Barty sighed and looked down to the hells for patience or possibly extra strong demonic powers to get through this conversation with Sirius. 
“Where is Regulus right now?”
Sirius considered Barty skeptically but answered, nonetheless. 
“Upstairs with Remus.”
Barty looked at Sirius at that. “Is it safe to assume he is helping him recover from last night?”
Sirius’ face fell and he levelled Barty with a hard glare. “What the hell are you on about, Junior?”
“Black, please believe that there is absolutely nothing in this realm that I’d rather be doing than sitting here asking for your help but I’m here doing just that.”
“For what?”
Regulus was here, and Regulus was helping Lupin, which meant that Lupin was also here with his supernatural hearing. Barty made you a promise – he would not tell Regulus or Remus what has happened.
“I need your help, because I’ve found a lost Treasure that seems to be in some Trouble.” Barty explained slowly, praying to every god that Sirius would pick up on his not-so-subtle clues.
Sirius’ eyes stayed narrowed at Barty before they grew comically in understanding. 
“Where is-”
“Not here.” Barty interrupted. “Grab your things and come with me.”
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“I have so many fucking questions.” Sirius muttered as he stepped through the floo, somehow ending up standing in the Slytherin common room. 
“Like?” Barty asked in a bored tone.
“How the hell did you manage to connect the floo network to the Slytherin common room?” He started, realizing that it probably wasn’t the most important question, but it seemed to take precedence in his mind.
Barty turned to sneer at Sirius, though his steps never faltered as he sped towards what Sirius could only assume was his dorm.
“Really, Black? I tell you that your future sister-in-law is in dire need of your help, and that’s what you’re- you know what? I’m not surprised. The floo network is easy to manipulate so long as you know how to dismantle ancient wards.” Barty explained dismissively.
 Easy. Dismantle ancient wards. Sure.
“What’s wrong with Y/N?” He asked much more seriously. Most (though not all) of the contempt drained from Barty’s face as he stopped in front of a door. 
“She...she was bitten.”
Sirius just stared dumbly at the absolute last person he imagined he'd be spending his morning with as he let that information process.
He wasn't given much time, however, as Barty quickly opened the door and disappeared into the room, clearly unbothered to see if Sirius was following him in or not.
“Treasure? Hey, hey; it’s okay. Look? I brought some help, okay? You’re alright.” He cooed at a curled-up form on his bed – your curled-up form.
“Oh, Trouble.” Sirius breathed out in disbelief, surveying your shaking and battered body before his gaze paused on your exposed thigh – clear as day was a large canine bite, still bleeding. 
“Oh, my girl.” Sirius cooed, feeling like he might be sick at the sight of one of his favourite people in the world in so much pain. It was very different from post moon care with Remus; Remus was seasoned, he was prepared, they were prepared.
You looked like you were dying.
“What’s wrong with her?” Sirius asked quickly, shaking himself and trying to force himself into action.
“Other than the very obvious werewolf bite?” Barty sneered. “She has a fever that won’t quit.”
“Take the blankets off.” Sirius ordered, earning him a whimper from your form.
“S’cold, Siri.” You whined.
“I know, Trouble, but you’re burning up.” He replied apologetically, pulling the blankets out of your currently much weaker grasp.
Barty looked like he was just as heartbroken as you were at the loss of the warmth, but clearly agreed with Sirius enough not to argue. 
“Mean.” You pouted; eyes still screwed shut in pain.
“I know, I’m the worst.” He whispered, casting a quick auguamenti and glacius on a rag and placing it on your head, earning him another protesting groan from you.
“Why’s her leg still bleeding?” Sirius asked, eyes still on your face as he used the cloth to wipe away the sweat from your features. He quickly prepared two more rags and placed them on the back of your neck and your chest. 
“I don’t know. I followed the instructions from our DADA textbook on werewolves – three tablespoons of powdered silver mixed with four tablespoons of dittany to create a paste. It did nothing but hurt her and aggravate me.” He admitted, sounding horribly dejected.
“Where’s the silver from?”
“Slughorn’s supply closet.”
Sirius groaned. “That’s why. The school buys the cheapest ingredients they can to keep costs low. That won’t be pure silver.”
“Well, where in the hells are we supposed to find pure silver then?” Barty groaned. 
Of all the times for Sirius to not be at Grimmauld Place anymore – that place was teeming with pure silver.
Pure...
Toujours pur. 
“Regulus.” Sirius whispered no louder than a breath. You didn’t seem to hear him, your lucid moment clearly over; but Barty did.
“I promised Y/N I wouldn’t tell Lupin or Regulus.” He explained plainly, causing Sirius to groan.
“Then what are we supposed to do?”
Barty turned his face to glare at Sirius. “I promised Y/N I wouldn’t tell Lupin or Regulus.”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “I heard you, Junior. So, what are we going to do then?”
Barty let out a long-suffering sigh. “I promised Y/N I wouldn’t tell Lupin or Regulus.”
Sirius’ brows furrowed and he cautiously lifted his hand to press the back of it to Barty’s head, checking for fever of his own. Barty aggressively swatted him away.
“Are you quite alright, Junior? Is this a stroke?”
“I need you to listen to me very carefully, Black. Okay? Are you listening to my words?”
Sirius nodded at him as Barty grabbed Sirius by the shoulders and stared imposingly into his eyes. “I – Bartemus Crouch Junior – promised that sweet, lovely Treasure you call Trouble over there, that I – Bartemus Crouch Junior – would not tell Remus Lupin or Regulus Black. I promised her.” 
Now, Sirius feels it’s important to note that it was currently maybe seven o’clock in the morning, and he’d only just stepped out of the shower after washing away a night of romping in the woods around Potter Manor with Moony as Padfoot to be told there was someone at the floo for him; in other words, he was fucking exhausted. And to add to that, he had one of his least favourite people tell him that one of the worst possible things happened to one of his favourite people. So, sue him for what he said next.
“I don’t understand.” 
“Fucking son of a mother fucking cunt, I swear to that fucking muggle-religion-wizard-guy-that-caused-the-whole-brew-ha-ha-in-that-big-ass-muggle-tome I will shave that fucking head of yours and wear your hair as a wig; I cannot tell Lupin and Regulus.” Barty spat, though somehow managed to keep his voice low enough to not gain your attention.
“Yes, yes, yes. You promised her.” Sirius lamented. “You p- wait... you promised her. You promised her.”
“Thank Merlin and Morgana.” Barty groaned as fell to his knees in exhaustion, clearly more than thankful that Sirius had finally gotten it. 
“I’ll be back.” Sirius announced and started towards the fireplace in the Slytherin common room in order to retrieve his brother. 
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Regulus looked up from the pages of his novel to survey Remus’ form again. His boyfriend laid on his back with his head propped up on two pillows and his eyes closed as the soft morning light filtered its way through the sheer curtains and painted his features in its warm glow.
Regulus knew Remus was likely exhausted and sore and perhaps feeling awfully sorry for himself right now, but Regulus wasn’t sure he ever looked more beautiful. 
“You should take a picture; it’ll last longer.” Remus commented dryly, never bothering to open his eyes as a smile danced on his lips.
“Ha ha.” Regulus deadpanned, returning his gaze to his book with a blush taking over his face.
“You worry too much, love. I’m okay.” 
“I know you’re okay.” Regulus argued.
“Yet you still worry?”
“Yet I still worry.” 
Regulus heard Remus’ head turn against his pillow, and he looked back up to see Remus regarding him.
“Have you heard from her by chance?” Remus whispered as if fearing the answer he knew was coming.
Regulus knew it was you who Remus referred to; they’d been waiting quite impatiently for your owl for the past few days.
You had promised to write as often as you could - every day if possible – over the winter holidays. The last correspondence they had with you was four days ago as you told them of some family gathering at your home.
He hated to be the bearer of bad news, but he could tell he was caught at the disappointed sigh from Remus.
“No, mon loup. I’m sorry.” Regulus admitted.
Remus let out another sigh and leaned his head back down on the pillows, squishing his eyes shut as if the pain of not knowing how you were was more painful than the current aching in his bones.
“Hey, Reg?” Regulus heard his brother call from the door. 
“He’s awake.” Regulus called back simply.
“How’re you feeling, Moons?” Sirius asked, walking towards the end of the bed with his hands in his pocket.
“Been worse.” Remus answered.
“I...” Sirius started, cutting himself off with a sigh.
“Spit it out, Sirius. We’ve not got all day.” Regulus drawled and put his book down. He couldn’t stop his heart rate from picking up when he noticed Sirius’ discontent, however; sudden flashbacks of Sirius standing in Regulus’ doorway begging him to pack his things and leave with him bombarding his mind.
“What is it, Pads?” Remus asked, seeming to pick up on his friend’s anxiety as well.
“I need your help.” He admitted. “It’s...it’s Y/N.”
Remus sat up all too quickly and winced at the cracking of his back.
“What is it? Where is she? Is she okay?” He asked, trying to free himself from the bedding that Regulus had tucked him into hours earlier.
“No, well, yes...she-”
“Where is she?” Regulus whispered in horror.
“With Junior. At Hogwarts.”
Regulus relaxed slightly to at least know you were safe at Hogwarts and with Barty, though that raised more questions than answers for him.
“How do you know that?” Regulus asked, all the while Remus continued struggling to dress himself despite his various aches and pains. 
“Junior told me.” Sirius admitted, finally taking pity on his friend and helping him dress whilst his boyfriend sat their uselessly. 
“Why did he tell you? When did he tell you?”
“This morning!” Sirius barked, clearly growing agitated, “listen, I just-”
“What happened to her, Sirius?” Remus begged, finally taking a moment to catch his breath and stare at his friend imploringly. “What happened to her that Junior told you and not us?”
Sirius swallowed thickly before he answered.
“She was bitten, Rem.”
All colour drained from Remus’ face and Regulus sat stock still.
“Was it me?!” Remus asked through a choked sob. This seemed to snap Regulus out of his uselessness and he reached for Remus’ shoulder to squeeze it affectionately.
“No, no. Moony, no one was there last night. I swear it.”
“What...why do you need my help? What do you need?” Regulus asked quietly, standing to pull on his own jacket and retrieving his and Remus’ wands from the dresser. 
“We can’t get the wound to close, and she’s got a wicked fever that we can’t bring down. She’s barely lucid, she's lost an insane amount of blood, and the silver at the school didn’t work to close it and-”
“No, it wouldn’t.” Remus agreed breathlessly.
“Why not?”
“Too costly to give pure powdered silver to a bunch of students who make throw away potions – they only use what works in the brew but not in practice.” Remus explained, groaning as he stood and quickly transfigured his suitcase into a cane on account of his hip after the transformation. 
“So, you need pure silver? Like... the ring!” Regulus whispered, hastily ripping the Black Family signet ring from his thumb and passing it to Sirius.
“We need to go now. She can’t afford to lose any more blood, and it should have been closed immediately.” Remus pressed, making his way to the door albeit a little shakily. 
Regulus was sick with worry; for you, your life, your future, your family, for Remus and how upsetting this must be for him as well, but something still wasn’t making any sense.
“Why did Barty tell you?” Regulus asked as they stepped through the floo into the Slytherin common room, making a mental note to ensure that it was closed before the rest of the students returned from winter holidays.
Sirius grimaced slightly and turned to look at his friend who he was supporting as they followed Regulus to the dorm room.
“She...she made him promise not to tell you guys.” Sirius admitted.
Remus’ steps faltered and Regulus turned, ready to help Sirius in catching him, only to notice that he wasn’t falling but rather had stopped walking all together.
“Why wouldn’t she want us to know?” Remus asked mournfully.
“I never did hear why.” Sirius admitted, encouraging Regulus forward with a nod of his head.
The three of them entered the room to find Barty sitting on a low stool beside you with his pinky interlinked with yours. Your eyes were still shut tightly and your breathing was shallow, but Regulus could hear Barty talking lowly to you and your occasional responses. 
“I like that song about the fighter, the writer, and the ruler.” Barty murmured quietly to you.
Your brows twitched as you gritted out “it’s Soldier, Poet, King.”
“Ah, right you are, Treasure.” Barty responded, looking over his shoulder at the new additions to the room. “You always know everything.”
“How is she?” Sirius asked as he dropped the signet ring inside the mortar and pestle and traded seats with Barty who began to grind it into powder, and Regulus and Remus moved to stand near the end of the bed to take in your form.
“Hanging in there, Black.” Barty responded to Sirius, though he looked at Regulus as he said it.
Sirius must have noticed Regulus’ death glare being pointed at Barty and opted to intervene. 
“Hey, Trouble?” Sirius asked you gently, brushing some of your damp hair away from your forehead. You hummed in acknowledgement without opening your eyes.
“Why didn’t you want Remus and Regulus to know, sweets?”
You whimpered as your face morphed into agony, eyes finally opening to look at Sirius through fat tears.
“Remus will hate me.”
Remus actually whimpered at that, clearly itching to move towards you, but not wanting to interrupt you.
“Why would he hate you?”
“He hates werewolves.”
Remus’ head dropped in shame as Regulus rubbed soothing circle into his back. 
“But he loves you, Trouble.” Sirius pressed, watching Remus all the while.
“Not anymore.” You sighed in resignation, closing your eyes once more.
“Always, dove.” Remus insisted. You squeezed your eyes tightly as if you were trying to convince yourself that he wasn’t really there. 
“Do you hear me? I will always love you. There is nothing that could ever happen that would make me hate you, okay?” He carried on, slowly making his way to the other side of the bed in order to curl up behind you and pull your back into his front. 
You whimpered, though Regulus was sure it was less from physical pain and more in distress.
“What about Reggie?” You cried as Sirius continued rubbing his thumb across your forehead. 
“It’s almost ready.” Barty interrupted as he began measuring out the silver and dittany. 
“Reggie thinks the world of you, dove.” Remus murmured into your hair, looking over at Regulus imploringly. 
“You’ve got a lot of people who care about you, Trouble.” Sirius added. “We’re not going to let you do this alone.”
“It’s done, Treasure. We’re gonna fix you up.” Barty said as he made his way over, keeping his eyes trained on Regulus. 
“Dovey, this is going to hurt an awful lot, okay? But you’re so brave, you’re so brave and then you’ll feel better, okay?” Remus spoke into your hair, keeping you pressed tightly to his form as you began to struggle against his hold. 
“Regulus, you need to be brave for her.” Sirius ordered, looking as severe as Regulus ever remembered his older brother being. 
What could Regulus have ever done to make you think it was at all possible for him to feel anything but love for you?
How could Regulus ensure that you never thought such things again?
“I’m right here, amour. Okay? You’ve got four of us here who love you, we’re not going anywhere.” He pressed, moving to take over Sirius’ place on Barty’s short stool as Sirius positioned himself close to your feet.
“I don’t want to hurt.” You cried, breathing becoming slightly erratic as Remus added more pressure in keeping your arms pinned to your sides.
“I know, amour. It’ll be over soon, okay?” Regulus tried, brushing hair away and pressing his lips to your overly hot forehead.
“You’re so brave, Y/N. We’ve got you, okay? Such a brave girl, come on babylove, you’re okay.” Remus chanted, looking over at Sirius as he pinned your ankles to the bed and Barty transfigured a stirrer in an applicator.
“Please. I don’t want to.” You begged.
“You’re so brave.” Remus repeated, pressing his mouth to the top of your head as his own tears fell into your hair.
“Do it.” Regulus insisted, not wanting to prolong this anymore.
Regulus nearly dropped his wand in his haste to throw up a silencing charm around the dorm room as your screams bounced off the stone walls in time with Barty’s first swipe of the ointment. 
Regulus couldn’t hear the words spilling from Remus’ lips, but he knew that he was whispering sweet encouragements to you as he cried in sympathy. Sirius looked to be using all his strength to keep your legs pinned down as you struggled, and his eyebrows furrowed on your behalf as well.
“You’re okay, amour. You’re okay.” Regulus insisted for both of your benefits, watching as Barty applied the last of the paste to your leg.
“Now what!?” Barty shouted over your agonized cries.  
“Breathe dove, breathe. The pain will fade, just breathe.” Remus coached, rocking the both of you gently back and forth as you sobbed.
“You’ve done so well, amour, so well. Ma courageuse fille; you’re so brave.” Regulus praised, taking both of your hands into his and pulling them from Remus’ grasp to press kisses to your knuckles. “Tu as si bien fait, tu es la personne la plus forte que je connaisse.”
It took some time and many more encouragements before your sobs decreased into pitiful hiccups and whimpers as you looked towards Regulus. 
“You don’t hate me?” You asked pitifully.
Regulus used his thumb to wipe away the tears that were still falling as Remus caressed your arms.
“It never even crossed my mind, cheri. I could never; non.” Regulus insisted. 
“I’m so sorry, dove.” Remus whispered into your head. “I’m so sorry this has happened to you.”
“Remus.” Sirius warned. 
“Not because it makes her any less lovely, Sirius. But because she doesn’t deserve it.” Remus explained. 
“I’m scared.” You admitted timidly.
“I know, dove.”
“Lucky for you, Trouble, you’ve got some seasoned professionals here.” Sirius added, nudging Remus’ foot. 
“Can I start the animagus process now, Rem?” Regulus groaned, looking at Remus pointedly. 
“I guess it wouldn’t be fair to make you sit out on full moons now.” Remus relented – he’d always hated the idea of putting the two of you in any undue danger, but he couldn’t deny Regulus of the two of you, nor you of Regulus; not when you would need him most.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Barty interrupted, moving his skeptical glance between the four of you. “You’re telling me that animagi can romp around with the likes of werewolves?”
Remus nuzzled his face impossibly further into your head as Sirius chuckled. 
“Werewolves don’t care about animals. In fact, it makes them quite happy to have a ‘pack’.” Sirius explained.
Barty laughed conspiratorially. “Well, sign me the fuck up. Regulus, I’ll buy the first mandrake leaf; my treat!” He called as he grabbed his jacket and wand and headed for the door, likely heading to Hogsmeade for supplies in his excitement. 
“Moony is not going to like him.” Sirius proclaimed flippantly, finally falling into a chair in exhaustion after Barty was gone.
“It’s not just about him, anymore.” Remus responded, pressing a kiss to your head. Regulus could tell your fever was reducing, though your cheeks were still flushed.
You had a lot to discuss; what happened, why it happened, and where to go from here. But for now, Regulus was just happy you were alive, currently safe, surrounded by people who loved you, and agreeable to him running you a bath. 
1K notes · View notes
finalgilmoregirl · 10 months
Note
omg I loved your grumpy x sunshine Mike and reader work - could you please do another scenario where the sunshine! reader is the one who has a bad day and it’s up to grumpy! Mike to comfort and help out in his own way? :) thanks for sharing your work!
a/n : i'm glad you enjoyed it, thanks for the request. fem!reader, she/her pronouns, mainly just fluff
☆ bad day : grumpy!mike schmidt x sunshine!fem!reader
mike knew something was wrong the moment he closed his door behind him and was greeted with silence has he entered the house.
you were always rushing in to greet him as soon as the sound of his keys against the door knob signaled his arrival, but today that clearly wasn't the case.
"hello?" mike called out and a moment later was met by the sight of abby creeping out of the hallway.
"where's y/n?"
"well hello to you too" the young girl rolled her eyes, walking past mike and heading for the kitchen.
"sorry" he sighed, catching her arm before she got too far and pulling her into his arms for a hug, earning a groan in response. "how was your day?"
"it was okay, but i think y/n/n's sick."
"sick? what do you mean?" mike thought back to when he last saw you just that morning. you were fine, your normally bubbly self despite the early hours, yawning between giggles as you and abby got breakfast prepared.
abby shrugged, "i don't know, she's been in bed since we got home."
mike knew you better than abby to know that you couldn't be sick. even if you were sick, you would protest and continue your daily routine as usual. something had to have been seriously wrong for you to defy from that routine and lay in bed for hours, especially with abby home. you hated to leave her alone and always tried to find something spontaneous and fun for the two of you to do if time permitted.
he warily walked into the direction of your shared bedroom and slowly opened the door that was left ajar. the lights were off and if it wasn't for the glow of the hallway light, he wouldn't have been able to see your figure on the bed in the dimness of the afternoon darkness.
but there you were, laying on your side, facing away from the door. mike could tell you weren't sleeping by the way that you were scratching at the loose threads of the faded colored duvet.
"hey" he called out softly, nearing your spot on the bed where he then took a seat on the edge, softly placing a hand on your shoulder. "you okay?" he asked, trying to gauge your emotions. that quickly cleared up however when he heard a sniffle come from you, followed by a small hiccup. you were crying.
mike leaned over to look at your face and was met with wet eyes and puffy chapped lips. his eyebrows furrowed, "hey hey hey" he said softly, moving you so you were now laying on your back, looking up at the ceiling as you tried to will the tears away. you hated crying, and you knew mike hated to see you cry. "what's wrong? what happened?"
you closed your eyes and let out a deep breath, clearly trying to control yourself. "just...had a bad day." you sighed.
"well, talk to me about it." mike wasn't always the best at dealing with emotions, but he was good at comforting you and abby, always wanting you to open up to him, even if he had trouble doing the same sometimes.
you took in another deep breath and nodded, preparing yourself to tell mike about the worst day you'd had in a while.
"i fell off the front steps after you and abby left this morning. but it was okay" you started, "i laughed, realized i scraped by knees and had to change my pants but that was okay." mike nodded along and listened, rubbing your side as you spoke. "but then i got a flat tire on my way to work." you continued, sighing as you felt the emotions building up again. "that was fine, it took me a while to get it fixed but i mananged and that was taken care of with no problems. but i was late, and usually my boss would let that kind of thing slide, but we had some hire ups there to oversee us and when one of them called me out for not being "better prepared", instead of changing the subject or at the very least, defending me after everything i've done for him, he agreed! then she basically told him that i should either be fired or have my paycheck cut." you finished with a huff and let the fresh tears that had built up in your eyes fall down your face.
mike felt a pang of hurt in his chest as he heard you recount the unfortunate events of your day. you didn't deserve to go through all of that. "why didn't you call me?" he asked, brushing the tears away from your face and attempting to flatten the hairs that had become out of place.
your hands came up to cover your face as you let out a sob. "i forgot to charge my phone!" you cried, earning a soft aww honey from mike as he kissed your temple, allowing for you to let your feelings out. after a minute of you gasping for air through your cries and furiously wiping away tears that just kept coming, you started to relax. you sighed and turned your head to your partner.
"i'm sorry you had to see me like this, how was your day?" you asked, still sniffling. mike shook his head and scoffed a laugh, even in the middle of a breakdown, you still want to talk about him.
"no don't worry about me, it was fine." he said, "how can i help you?"
you shrugged, looking down and beginning to play with mikes fingers where his hand now rested on your stomach.
"come on" he insisted, "you always help me when i'm having a bad way and i want to help you now. do you want a snack? do you want to watch a movie, or go for a drive? anything you want, i'll do it for you."
you let out a small laugh at mike's dedication, causing him to squeeze your side. "i'm serious!"
you looked back up and into his eyes, cracking a small smile. "maybe a movie." you said quietly.
"okay, i can do that." mike spoke, starting to get up from his seat on the bed until he was stopped by your hand on his arm.
"but first can you just hold me for a bit. please?" mike looked down at you with a kind of softness that he ever only reserved for you.
"yeah, i can do that too."
the end ☆
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beenbaanbuun · 8 months
Text
cock warming w/jongho
words - 🫣
genre - fluff, nsfw
warnings - cockwarming, dom!jongho, sub!reader, kind of non-sexual intimacy (cockwarming but not necessarily horny), a single spank, praise, guidance, it’s just very cute
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you cant convince me that jongho doesn’t absolutely love cockwarming. like there’s just something about the intimacy of it that really gets him going. mix that with the casual dominance of it all - him pinning you down with a strong arm, spanking your thigh if you begin to grow restless, mumbling sweet nothings into your ear as you lay your chest against his in a dizzy haze - and he’s going practically insane.
it’s movie night, just you and him, and for some unknown reason he decided to use that feature of netflix that picks a random film for you
of course, after 4 or 5 tries, it lands on nothing good (because it never does) and the two of you decide to settle for whatever random film it decided on
it starts off with you two making fun of the poor editing and direction of the film, picking at all the plot holes until you were both giggling incessantly
that little game lasted a while, but it didn’t take long for it to become boring and the two of you were plunged into a comfortable silence once more
until, of course, a sex scene!
in the grand scheme of things, it had no relation to the film whatsoever and was quite frankly incredibly poorly made
like you don’t know who those moans were coming from, but they didn’t match up with the mouths of either of the actors
but just as you were about to make fun of it to jongho, you noticed a little something of his lap
well, more like a big something, and you couldn’t help but gasp
“this is making you hard?” you scrutinise, eyes narrowing as you pull them away from the tent in his pants to instead look at his face
you expected him to be embarrassed or ashamed, but he wore a stoic expression as he shushed you
again, you gasped and sat up from the position you were in, leant up against him
“first you get hard to the worst sex scene i’ve ever seen, then you shush me?” you scoffed, “just say you hate me, next time.”
you watched as he rolled his eyes, finally tearing his gaze away from the screen to look at you
“i’ve been hard for the last 20 minutes,” he grumbled, “you just didn’t notice so i didn’t say anything.”
oh… that’s weird
it’s not like you’d been doing anything to try and make him hard, and it’s not like the film had even been remotely sexy in any way shape or form
like you’d understand if you were lay there in lingerie, but you were in what you described as your ‘grannie nightie’, curled up against him like you would be on any other night
you frowned
“well, why are you hard?” you asked
“am i not allowed to be?” he replied
it was a fair response, but you still wanted answers
“well there has to be a reason…” you mumbled
“i’m sorry, why don’t you just call the erection police?” his voice was dripping in sarcasm, “hello? 911? yeah, i was being cute around my boyfriend and now he’s hard. come arrest him please!”
at this point the film was just background noise as the two of you went back and forth bickering about his penis of all things…
“wait, your erection is because of me?” you cock your head to the side in confusion
again, your pyjamas were hardly the sexiest thing in the world, unless you’re an 80 year old man and this is the most thigh you’ve seen in years
but jongho wasn’t 80, and he saw your thighs on a daily basis
fuck, he saw a lot more than thigh on most days
“well who else would’ve caused it?” he glanced between you and the screen, “you can’t seriously believe this shit show made me hard?”
“oh,” you mumbled
“yeah, oh…” he rolled his eyes
and you thought that was it for a moment before his hands were on you and you were being tugged onto his lap like you were nothing more than a rag doll
you squeaked in surprise as his strong arms pinned you to his lap, erection digging into your thigh
you squirmed, but the look he gave you quickly stopped you in your tracks
“you want to know why i’m hard?” he mumbled into your ear, a soft smile gracing his lips
he looked so innocent, and you would’ve believed it if it weren’t for the obvious
you nodded
“you’re just too cute, baby,” he chuckled deeply into your ear, the sound heading immediately south, slicking you up a little, “in your cute little nightie, making your cute little comments. sue me for being attracted to you…”
“but that’s not…” you trailed off, “i’m not being sexy, am i?”
“you don’t have to be, baby,” he cooed, “you don’t have to make yourself sexy for me to want you. i want you just as much now as i would any other day.”
“so you want to fuck me because i’m not sexy?”
he scoffed, “i want to be close to you, baby. it’s not the same.”
it sounded the same to you, but still you nodded as if you understood
“want me to take a seat?” you grounded down once and he groaned
his eyes rolled back into his head in pleasure, but just as you were about to do it again he stopped you
“not if you’re not going to be a good girl and sit still for me,” you barely registered the sound of the slap until the stinging sensation spread though your thigh a moment later, “i said i didn’t want to fuck you, and here you are grinding on my dick like you can’t understand basic instructions!”
you stilled at his comment, a frown forming on your face
now you really didn’t get it…
he seemed to notice your sudden change in demeanour and sighed
“i don’t want to fuck you, but that doesn’t mean i don’t want to be inside of you,” he explained slowly, desperate to make you understand, “i just want you to be around me, sweetheart. no expectations, i just want to be close to you.”
oh…
you supposed that made a little sense
with a slightly less confused look, you nodded
you didn’t move though
you misunderstood him before, now you wanted him to guide you through it so you didn’t get it wrong again
luckily for you, jongho took more than a little pride in telling you what to do
it boosted his ego, and he couldn’t deny how sweet you looked when you followed his every instruction
so he gave you a sweet smile before setting his hands on your waist
“straddle me, baby.”
his hands never left your sides as you followed his directions
“good girl,” he praised, making you puff your chest out a little with pride, “now i need you to pull my bottoms down, hm?”
and you did it, because jongho was right - you were his good girl!
you reached your hands down and shuffled back a little to give his dick enough room to spring free
and when it did spring free, you couldn’t help but sit in awe of how pretty it was
you’d seen it before, but you were still shocked at how perfect it was every time you saw it
a decent size lengthwise, but thicker than most
a pretty pink tip that leaked pearlescent precum in little droplets
jongho chuckled
“you done staring, or do you want to take a picture?” your eyes widened and your gaze shot up to his face again.
he wore a wide smirk as you mumbled an apology
“it’s okay, sweetheart,” his thumbs rubbed circles over your sides, “now, can you slip your panties to the side for me? i want you to sit on me…”
and again, you did as he asked because you were good and you wanted to behave for him
so your fingers slid south and pushed the thin cotton to the side (ignoring the way you had to peel them away from your gooey wetness) and you shuffled forwards until your core was hovering above his cock
you slid down slowly, the stretch almost painful but not quite
it took a moment for you to bottom out, his tip snug against your cervix and your thighs resting against his own
the temptation to start bouncing was certainly there, but at the risk of no longer being his good girl, you decided not to
not that you could anyway, not when he brought his arms around you, pinning you to his chest and holding you there like it was just any regular cuddle on any regular day
like his dick wasn’t resting heavily inside of you
like you weren’t so close to disobeying and seeking out your own pleasure
a big hand came up to the back of your head to hold it against his shoulder, fingers lacing themselves in your hair and giving it gentle, rhythmic tugs like he always did when you needed to chill a little
his fingernails scratched against your scalp in a way that was so soothing, it seemed to turn your whole body to jelly
and suddenly, the horny tension that laced itself up within you dissipated like it was never there
well, it wasn’t completely gone - you still had your boyfriends dick in you, after all - but it was duller, more manageable
you moaned as you relaxed into his warmth that surrounded you from every angle possible, and he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle
“do you get it now, honey?” he whispered into your ear, “do you understand what i mean when i say i want you close?”
you just nod
“oh, you’re so precious, baby,” he gave you a particularly tight squeeze with his thick arms, “so good for me, hm? letting me hold you close like this. i expected it to take you longer to settle down, but you’re such a good girl, right? shouldn’t have doubted you, baby…”
his words made your mind cloud over as you sank into the praise that he spoon fed to you
you just lay there with your head on his shoulder, staring up at him like he was your entire universe, eating up every single word he said to you
“love you, bear,” you mumble into his neck
he chuckled
“love you too, honey.”
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yaespook · 11 months
Text
Run 4 - In Progress.
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✧ Room Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Android! Wanderer, no gendered terms used for reader, no actual penetration, unhealthy obsessive and possessive relationship from Wanderer, memory manipulation. Leave a note if anything was missed out. ✧ Retrieved Notes: If possible, use the InteractiveFics extension to change the phrase “My name” (without the quotation marks) to the name given to your Wanderer.
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There’s an unfamiliar android sitting atop your worktable.
You must have picked him up two or three weeks ago, when he was still worse for wear. In your memory, he was in pretty bad shape when the two of you first met, his main panel wrenched open leaving his circuitry a mess and rough scrapes all over his superficial layer.
Now, with your constant repairs, he’s been more lively, tailing you around the house as you go about your day. While fussing about, dusting off a muzzle laying on a fur pelt, you sense a presence lingering outside your room.
"You know, I don't recall androids being quite so clingy." In return, you get a light huff from behind the door frame. 
"And you’ve come across other androids? I didn’t know you run a junkyard here,” the eye roll in his tone is audible.
His feet pad into the room and his gaze hones in on the clerical collar placed on a nearby shelf, glaring at it. Clicking his tongue, he crosses his hands on his chest.
“Whatever, what you do is mostly up to you anyway. Do you think you’re almost done cleaning? I think there’s an internal problem again, I’ll wait for you at the worktable,” the android saunters off nonchalantly, throwing you a light wave over his shoulder.
Sighing, you quickly finish up your task at hand before complying to his request, briskly making your way over to the worktable where he's already perched smugly on, his gaze expectant. 
You easily go through the rehearsed motions of plugging him up to your computer, your muscle memory kicking in as you boot up the required softwares before gingerly prying the main panel located on the front of his torso to gain access to his internal workings. Over time, you've gradually figured out the parts that make up the android sitting before you, growing used to the sight of the lengths of wiring and cables running throughout his body, the faint low mechanical whirring of motors and cooling systems. 
Most importantly, you now understand how sensitive his central core is. Nestled securely in a latched transparent casing, his core is what powers and sustains him. It emits a constant turquoise light and is also reflected in the glowing markings that lay beneath his synthetic skin that occasionally activate. (Although, you haven't quite gotten an answer for what makes them light up yet.) 
“So what's your problem today?” You ask, tearing your eyes away from him as you go over to your computer to check if any bugs have been identified.
“I think that cable all the way at the back came undone and got tangled with the rest.” 
You shoot him a pointed look, “Again? Didn’t we just fix that same cable last week?” Shifting your chair so you’re seated before him, poised to conduct your repairs, you make a passing remark, “Maybe taking you to another mechanic might be the better choice, get everything checked out, you know?”
How long have you kept at your task of finally fixing him up to tiptop condition? It’s almost daily when he reports back to you with a new disconnected wire or another loose joint somewhere on him. Diligently, you’ve been trying to repair him but the android is like a never-ending to-do list. And it’s only natural to be concerned if the constant damage stems from a more serious underlying issue that you haven’t managed to discover. The only next logical step would be to get another pair of eyes to help discern the root cause in case anything takes a turn for the worse.
But the reaction you get from him is one unexpected. His head snaps to face you, a scowl evident on his face. 
“So you’re handing me off like an unfinished project to someone else now?”
You know how snippy he can get however, this is on a different level from his previous behaviour. Maybe something left over from the days before you found him. It’ll be a good idea to look into his past logs to diagnose any present problems, you make a mental note of it.
“I’m just worried for you, that’s all. What if there’s an urgent issue I can’t fix alone? And we both know I can’t leave you as is.”
His expression mellows to an annoyed pout, looking away as his core glows faintly along with the patterns under his skin, he mumbles, “I’ll be fine.” (“I just need you.”) (“I'm the only one for you.”) (“No one else deserves you.”)
He allows you to work without another complaint, silently watching as your hands venture into his chest, a focused air to you while you look for the problematic cable. He senses your touch when you make contact with it, sucking in a sharp breath as you grip it between your fingers, twisting it around to free it from the surrounding wires before you finally connect and plug it into its rightful place. 
“That’s it for your cable issue. Anything else?” He quickly shakes his head.
Giving it a few light cursory pulls to make sure it’s finally secured, (if you weren’t mistaken, his core brightened in time with your tugs), you spare the rest of his parts one last look over. Then, shutting the panel, you unplug him from the computer.
Immediately, he scampers off the worktable with a clipped “thank you” and runs into his room. You hear the door to his room close before its lock clicks. 
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The next few days prove to be better, the repair requests for any troubles that seem to have cropped up overnight growing more and more infrequent. Perhaps, bit by bit, the end of the repairs start to come into sight. 
Although, you have noted that his internal temperatures have been hiking recently whenever you have his chest panel open to patch him up. 
This time, you have him lying on the worktable on his back to access the further areas in him. He’s positioned facing upwards but his eyes are darting everywhere, unable to meet your gaze. Once again, the programme open on your computer screen shows how his temperatures are quickly rising even though there are no obvious reasons for such a sudden change. It records the recurrence into its troubleshooting log like before, more times than you can remember.
He’s panting lightly, the android’s chest moving up and down as your ears pick up the sound of his inner fans whir louder, his pre-programmed functions activating to try to cool him down. With no clue as to what could cause this issue, you reach in to look for a fault. Yet, the more you poke and prod around, the higher the warmth within him rises. 
Left with more questions than answers, you turn to his core for a closer look. When your fingers brush against the transparent casing, a moan slips out from him, and instantly his head whips to look at you dumbfounded.
An artificial blush takes over his face, a low pink glow blooming from beneath the synthetic layer. A beat passes before he cracks his lips apart, voicebox working as he pleads.
“...Again.”
Gently, you let your fingertips dance over the clasp hinging the casing shut and his response is instant. A shudder rolls through him, as real as it can be, and a shaky exhale leaves him. The android’s back arches up slightly, hastily chasing after your touch when you remove your hand.
Your caress returns when your hand dips deeper into his circuitry, where you hook two fingers underneath his thicker cables, attentively stroking them between your thumb and fingers, before tugging on them forcefully enough to elicit a reaction from him. 
His eyes fly open at your ministrations, a greed for more overtaking his processors. You’ve always been so gentle with him when he’s opened up for you, when you have access to the deepest parts of him, when he’s at his most vulnerable. So, to have you toy around with him, show him the indulgence of human flesh, can you really fault him for falling for you?
The tips of your fingers ghost along the length of his metal spine, and the android keens from under you.
“Please, more, I can take it!”
Taking his cue, your hand encircles his spine, grinding the heel of your palm against the ridges of the sensitive metal elements as you pump up and down. 
“Sss- so good! Hah…!” He can’t control how he behaves when you treat him so well, like he’s the only one worthy of your attention. He shakes under your touch, trembling as the addictive pleasure overrides his programmed commands.
“No more blubbering, just focus on me.” Your other hand goes to cup his chin, and obediently, he parts his lips for you, allowing you to slip your thumb into his mouth. You can feel his tongue work and when you press down, he jolts suddenly. A gag reflex? In an android? How amusing.
When you stop stroking him, he whines pitifully, muffled moans and begging for you to continue but his complaints stop when he feels you unlatch the lid of his core casing.
“Would you let me?” And the flurry of nods from him confirms his enthusiasm.
With bated breath, he counts the seconds before you make contact with his core. And when he senses your caress on his glowing core in his exposed chest cavity, he breathes out a gasp, as if he requires the intake of air. None of this is written into the basis of his behaviour, not fed into the dataset that makes up how he’s supposed to act, so everything he feels for you must be real.
His eyes go unfocused as his neural network is flooded with the raw pleasure of being enveloped with love and lust down to his literal core. Desire burns within him, evident from the fans whirring even louder than before to bring down his temperatures. It’s just so much for the android’s computations to handle. Broken moans leave him as he tries to vocalise his love for you (as best as he can with his thumb in your mouth). 
And when you press a kiss to his unprotected core, his vision whites out.
Eyes wrenched shut, his whole mechanical body jerks upwards, back arching off the worktable as his body propels himself to sit up, his limbs trying to ensnare you in his embrace, to keep you with him as long as he can. Every command in his system is overwritten to hone in on all the sensations of you on him, your touch, your warmth.
The patterns under his skin glow with a pulse, akin to a human’s heartbeat and when his eyes open again, glimmering faux tears roll down his face. His chest heaves as you close the distance between the two of you, cupping his face with both your hands and kissing his tears away.
The android breaks the intimate silence as he quietly asks you, “Can you give me a name?”
When you whisper a name into his ear, he breaks into sobs in your hands.
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The days pass by, uneventful, and the time for a final cursory check before deeming him fully repaired comes. He’s poised on the worktable like any other previous session, a bored expression on his face as you flit back and forth between him and the software on your computer.
“You really are a clingy case,” you say and get a huff in return, “But a welcome one.”
Remembering your mental note from before about accessing his past logs, you access it from your computer, pulling up the window with his stored recorded data. The log operates in the background constantly, one of the built-in functions of the android and a quick glance over just to make sure everything is in order should do.
However, the logs prove to be worrying in a completely different way.
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[Log: Day 10 - Run 1 - Failed. Werewolf. They’re with that mangy mutt. I don’t know what they see in him. I still remember the care they showed me. There’s always the next run.]
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[Log: Day 20 - Run 2 - Failed. It seems I’m too late this time around. That vile selkie captured them first. How irritating. I need to stop hesitating. It’s my love on the line after all.]
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[Log: Day 30 - Run 3 - Failed. Incubus. That damn priest and incubus. I can feel my temper reaching its breaking point.]
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[Log: Day ??? - Run 4 - In progress. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.]
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Your eyes rake across a multitude of grainy snapshots of yourself, all with different people that you can’t find the ability to recall, your mind pounding from the discovery. 
He’s gazing expectantly when you look back up at him from the screen. A grin twists its way across his face, canines glinting under the dizzying harsh lighting.
“So now you’ve seen how much I love you, even if you don’t remember it.” There’s a sick obsession dripping in his tone, an uncanny level of emotion that androids normally shouldn’t be able to replicate, one that sends a heavy uneasiness through your whole being, one that roots you to the ground. 
When he doesn’t get the adoring reaction from you he expects, the proud expression on his face falls instantly. 
He’s despondent, despairing as he tears the connecting cables off of him, launching himself off the worktable, lunging across for you, frenzied, pure scorching mania surging through him. 
“You… even after all these runs. You’ve always given me the same thing. My name. I thought this time- You-” 
Voice shaky, “It’s a shame this run didn’t work out either.” 
He steels himself, hand outstretched, “No matter.”
You blink.
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There’s an unfamiliar android sitting atop your worktable.
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Thank you kindly for reading. Consider supporting on kofi if you enjoyed this or visit the other doors.
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virgolixx · 4 months
Text
Head cannon:
:what these one piece men do/react to you being mad at them:
Sanji, Zoro, luffy, Ace,
Theme: Fluff💕
⚠️Warnings: clingy sad boys, overall happy ending
(Authors note: Hello to those who have left requests I apologize that I am taking so long to get them out, I lowkey abandoned this account for some time, hopefully I can get those request out soon as I can, for now enjoy this head canon.)
(Also sorry if there are grammar/spelling mistakes)
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Sanji
Reason to why you’re mad:Sanji was giving women heart-eyes that were only now looking at him due to the straw hats saving the islanders danger.
You’ve been ignoring Sanji the entire day this man is literally devastated/crying and sweating.
Once knowing why you are mad this man is begging on his knees for you to forgive him
Sanji would cook you your favorite meals and snacks in hopes it would be a nudge to get you to speak with him again and let him give you all his love, but being salty and still mad you would scream for luffy and give him the meal Sanji made. Sanji would be on his knees in tears and then trying to fight luffy.
Once night hit, Sanji gave an entire speech to you as to how sorry he was while you were getting ready for bed, until you told him “don’t wait for me I’m sleeping at Robins and Nami’s room tonight”. You were enjoying a girls night sleep over, while Sanji was tossing and turning in bed hugging your scented pillow, until he just couldn’t bare it anymore and stormed over to the girls room.
Barging into the room Sanji throws him self to the floor crying as how he misses you with him, and that he only wants you and those other women where nobody’s to him. The room was silent for a minute until Sanji heard footsteps coming closer and feeling someone pulling him up.
You wave good night to the girls and lead Sanji to your shared room, quiet. Once in the room you hug Sanji and finally let him know your emotions, “Please Sanji only me…no flirting with other women”. 
Sanji lefts your chin and gives you a sweet loving kiss and tells you, “I promise my love, you are in my future I want”.
Picking you up bride style he walks you both over to the bed and lays you down in a position where you are slightly on top of him and cuddled you till falling asleep.
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Zoro
Reason to why you’re mad: You and Zoro had an argument about how clingy you were at times, he was always with you why couldn’t he just have workout time as his alone time. While you just wanted to support him in his hard work to reaching his goal, to bring him snacks and water to stay hydrated.
It’s be 3 days since the fight, and you’ve distanced yourself from Zoro, no more morning or good night kisses, you haven’t snuggled up against him let alone joined him with afternoon naps, and of course you haven’t joined zoro as his personal cheerleader during his workout sessions.
Zoro is feeling grumpy and misses you desperately but with his tough macho ego he did not budge till the third day when he awoke from his daily nap under the tangerine tree, he didn’t feel the the warm weight of you on his lap where you usually are. Instead he hears your voice coming from the kitchen chatting away with Sanji.
Standing up Zoro goes over to you in the kitchen and looks at you from the door gram with his arms crossed, feeling his heart twist with how pretty your smile looked he walked over to you and picked you up and placed you over his shoulder.
Walking away Zoro heard Sanji yell, “Hey Moss head We were talking, and you don’t pick up a lady like that”! “Yeah, yeah what ever shitty cook”, zoro spoke.
Back under the tree Zoro sits down as he places you on his lap you facing him, one hand on your hip while the other grabs hold of you hand playing with your fingers. Absently looking to the side.
“Zoro”, you speak out as you place a hand on his cheek to get him to look at you, “you okay”?
“3 days”, he spoke. “What”, you ask confused? “You haven’t been joining me these past 3 days…..and”, sighing deeply. “I don’t like it at all”.
“I was just trying to give you your space zoro”, you spoke softly with slight hurt as you were still sad from the argument. Pulling you in zoro hugged you semi tightly with his face in the crook of your neck taking in your scent. “Don’t, not to this extent anymore, I miss you…..miss the kisses, our naps, and my personal cheerleader”.
Pushing zoro’s shoulder slighty back, you kiss his cheeks and then on the lips, “what do you say should we take a nap”, you say. Smiling softly Zoro approves and positions you into a more comfy position. “Yeah, I’ll finally have a good nap with you here”, zoro spoke as he dozed off.
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Luffy
Reason to why you’re mad: You argued at how reckless he is, and always getting seriously injured, and he’s always just brushes it off with a laugh.
Luffy got badly injured during his last fight and was out cold for 2 days, of course you were by his side, and of course luffy laughs off the situation.
I know for a fact this boy would never know why exactly your mad of, until either Sanji or robin tell him.
He gets serious and understands the situation, he gets it you’re just afraid one day you could lose him to an extremely powerful foe.
Luffy is following you around the thousand sunny trying to get you to talk to him he’s even offering you a plate of meat his favorite food, but nothing you continue to do your duties on the ship.
Sulking and pouting he sits on the deck cross-legged, till he sees you walk out and finally enjoy your break, Luffy yells your name and uses his gum-gum powers to pull you to him and settle you on his lap.
His arms completely wrapped around your torso you have no chance of escape, as he finally told you, “you know you’ll never lose me right, I’ll continue to get stronger to keep you save”.
Finally relaxing in his hold you look at him with tears in your eyes and a smile, “Just don’t scare me like that anymore, I can’t stand seeing you hurt”.
Laughing brightly as you kiss luffy all over his face he hugs you tightly and softly says, “I won’t ever my queen, I promise”. Luffy then kisses your temple and finally on your lips.
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Ace
Reason to why you’re mad: Ace was gone for a month longer than expected on a separate mission White beard sent him on, that’s 2 whole months and when he came back boy was still so busy with errands around the ship. Feeling a bit sad/salty you leave the grand dinner party for ace’s return early.
Once returning to the Moby dick ace spread his arms open wide for you as you ran to him for a big embrace. Once engulfing you in a hug ace spins around laughing as you giggle and cover his face with kisses. Once putting you down you tell ace, “you’re finally back I’ve missed you so much”. “Ive missed you so much as well my love”, ace told you as he cupped your face leaning down for a kiss.
Sighing you tell ace to not leave your side anymore and wanting to spend the afternoon cuddling and later get some food, sighing deeply ace tells you, “I wish I could love but I still have to talk with pops and complete some errands on the ship”. “No can’t you do them tomorrow please ace”, you told him softly.
Once again ace tells you, “Sorry love I can’t but in a few hours I’ll be yours alright”. Ace then kisses you and walks away to talk with pops.
Throughout the entire afternoon you watched with longing as ace was talking with other crew members and completing his work until it was finally dinner time. You sat beside ace with your plate of food trying to talk with him but kept getting interrupted with the others talking with ace.
After a while you grew tired and a tad bit petty how ace still didn’t chat with you and only with the other members, you decided to leave and go to your and ace’s room. Not even 10 minutes later ace tried to place his hand on where your thigh should be but just felt the hard bench. Looking over he fully noticed you were gone but your plate still practically full.
“Excuse me” Ace spoke as he stood up with his and your plate, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow”. Reaching your shared room ace switched on the lights of the room and places the plates of food on the desk, walking over to you ace plops him self over you self grumbling a sorry and that he was now finally yours for the rest of the night n has brought your plate.
As you looked over at ace still a bit mad you quickly get soft as ace is giving you puppy dog eyes and pursing his lips for kisses, with a sigh you cup ace’s face and kiss him.
After the kisses ace gets up and walks over to the plates of food, he hands you your plate and sits beside you. You both continue eating and chatting away to soon cuddling the night away.
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danikamariewrites · 4 months
Text
Take It Slow
Bat boys x reader
Note: I wrote this when my latest depressive episode was keeping me in bed and I had no motivation for anything. I honestly think this brought me out of my slump. Honestly I might delete this later I just wanted to post it because I wrote it but we’ll see
Warnings: depression, angst, comfort
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You hadn’t bothered to get out of bed. Couldn’t be bothered. There was nothing to do anyway. Your mates seem to be busy these days, leaving you to do the same daily activities that you’ve grown bored of.
You were always tired too. Today you were even more exhausted than usual.
You couldn’t fall back to sleep, your eyes fluttering occasionally as you tried to keep them open, watching the ticking clock above the mantle across from the bed.
The hands showed a little past one o’clock, meaning Cassian and Azriel are back from training and Rhys is either locked up in his office or out at meetings. Leaving you to your own devices again. Just like every day. Curling up in a ball in the middle of the comically large bed you snuggle into your pillow, pulling the sheets around your shoulders.
Azriel and Cassian had looked all over the house for you. For the first time in weeks they were free all day and wanted to spend all of their time with you.
While Cass looked in the many rooms on the main floor Azriel wandered upstairs to the bedroom you all share, following that glowing thread attached to your heart. He felt a tug, a wave of sadness, then nothing. Azriel hit an impenetrable wall that only Rhys could teach you to put up.
Lifting a scared fist he lightly wrapped on the door. Not waiting for a response Azriel gently pushed the door open, poking his head into the dark room. Slipping inside on near silent feet, Azriel moves to sit on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on your shoulder.
“Hey love, what are you still doing in bed?” Azriel’s tone was laced with concern, his fingers brushing your hair back from your forehead.
You bury your face deeper into your pillow, letting out a small noise that’s something between a groan and a whine. Azriel pulled back a little, now worried by your reaction to his touch. His mind raced. Are you sick? Is it your cycle?
The sound of the sheets rustling as you turned to face him had Azriel looking down at you again. A small frown on his plush lips. “Az,” you whisper, “I don’t want to be mean, but can you send Cass up. I-I just… I need him.” You swallow the lump in your throat, worried that one of your mates would take offense. But Cassian is the comforting one, he always knows what to say and holds you just right.
They all know this but your lip still trembles as tears start to build in your eyes as Azriel just looks at you unmoving. Closing your eyes you let a tear slide down your cheek. Azriel places a soft kiss on your forehead, murmuring that you didn’t hurt his feelings and he’d send Cass up right away.
Leaving the bedroom Azriel knew exactly what was wrong and would do anything to help you. Reaching out to Rhys in his mind as he walked into the kitchen As informs them what’s going on.
As soon as the door closed you let your tears flow. Curling up into a ball again you sobbed. You hoped Azriel wasn’t hurt that you asked for Cassian.
You hoped he knew that you love him and wouldn’t hurt his feelings. Your thoughts spiraled over your mates’s feelings, adding to your never ending worries.
These days your worries ranged from if you were helping your court to wondering if you’re just a burden to your mates. Another never ending cycle you go through daily.
You felt Cassian before you saw him. His love through the bond was breaking through the wall you put up. Before you knew it Cassian was laying next to you, pulling you to his bare chest and wrapping a massive wing around you two.
Cassian’s large, calloused hand comes to rest on your stomach under your shirt. His thumb rubs small circles on your skin, pressing small kisses against your hair.
“I’ve got you sweet pea, I’m right here.” Cassian whispers as a small sob shakes your body. You turn in his arms, burying your face in the crook of his neck.
The two of you stayed in bed all day, safe and sound in Cassian’s embrace. Waking up from a peaceful nap you find Cassian’s soft hazel eyes watching you. His fingers tracing the lines of your face.
“Hey,” he smiles at you.
“Hey.” You whisper, trying to smile back at him.
Your eyes wander to the window, noticing the setting sun casting brilliant shades of pink and orange across Velaris. Your stomach jolts and that heaviness settles in your throat again, the all too familiar feeling of guilt. Guilt for wasting your day moping in bed. Guilt for dragging Cassian into bed with you.
He knew where your mind was going and he wouldn’t let you spiral like that. Holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger he forces you to look at him again. “Don’t do that, y/n. You didn’t make me do this. You are having a hard time and need help from your mates, the people who are supposed to take care of you. I stayed with you because I wanted to because you needed me.” You nod your head in understanding.
Silent tears fall down your cheeks, no longer able to hold in your feelings at Cassian’s sweet words. He pulls you to his chest again running his fingers through your hair. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks softly.
You nod again, swallowing that ever present lump in your throat. So you tell him everything. All your worries and fears. All your anxieties crowding your brain. And you felt so good after, like a weight has been lifted off your shoulder and your brain wasn’t weighing down your skull.
Cassian listened without interrupting you. He helped you and kissed you, whispering reassuring words when talking got too much. When you finished Cassian looked deep into your eyes. “I’m sorry you’ve had all these thoughts weighing you down, sweet pea. We are here for you. Don’t ever worry about being a burden because you are not, understand. You could never in a million years be a burden.”
Cassian always knew how to render you speechless. Fresh tears sprung from your eyes as you nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.
The next time you woke up the sun was rising over Velaris, your mates holding you between them. Cassian and Rhys were still fast asleep but you felt that third pair of eyes watching you. Flipping over, you find Azriel’s bright hazel eyes staring at you softly. He rests a hand on your face, running his thumb across the apple of your cheek.
“Good morning, princess.” Azriel murmurs
“Good morning,” you whisper back.
Azriel rests his forehead against yours, pressing a gentle kiss to your nose. You break the comfortable silence, “Are you mad at me? About yesterday.”
“No, y/n. I’m not mad at you. You knew what you needed and you told me.” You snuggle closer to him, finally feeling calm. Az presses a kiss to your head, whispering, “Let’s rest for a little while longer.” You hum in agreement, sleep making your eyelids heavy again.
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greenandsorrow · 5 months
Text
the price for misbehaving (ii)
post rut Alastor x gn!reader
WARNINGS; the aftermath of a very horny fic, mentions of deer mating season, friends to lovers, deer/doe!demon!reader, reader with self worth doubts, a sprinkle of angst, curly-haired!Alastor, undertones of Alastor being a momma's boy, mentions of his past, making out, fluff (literally), plot
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Dividers by; @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune
Please do not repost or directly copy my work and don't use it on AI platforms either.❤️
From a smutty oneshot to a multi chap fic. Nothing can compare to the chunkiness of the 1st chapter, but I'm satisfied with this one as well. Enjoy you lovely beings and thanks for being patient with me!!! The art above is by @kalico-of-doom.
~masterpost~
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The only time Alastor isn't smiling is when he's sleeping you have come to realize. You can't help but notice how tired he looks as you lay motionless beside him. You start petting his ears and he groans softly, nuzzling deeper into your touch without even bothering to open his eyes. A small smile forms on his mouth, a real one. Is this really the same man that has been fucking you until your legs stop working?
In the morning you wake up in his bed, a daily occurrence at this point. However, you weren't expecting him to be staring deeply into your contemned soul.
"A- Al?"
Your voice is hoarse from sleep. You scratch your deer ears, flop on your back and stretch. Alastor keeps staring, studying you and every micro expression you make.
You can feel fear creeping into your gut. Is this the end? Is the rutting season gone? Does he want to kill you and eat you now? Will he kick you out? One thing is certain.
He doesn't need you anymore.
After all, you were just a friend helping him go through a difficult time. Nothing more. Still, you would be lying to yourself if you said that you haven't caught any feelings. From his forceful claiming that hid a great deal of desperation to his tender claiming last night, Alastor has left more than just his mark on you. One could say that he owns you in the most primal and raw of ways, but if he chooses to deny that... that's all it takes really, then you were nothing but a fucktoy.
"Um... I- I'm gonna take a shower"
Is that you doing the walk of shame? Alastor is a gentleman, why isn't he saying anything?! Not a single thing that could make you feel less terrible about the whole situation!
Now that his hormones have died down and you are far from aroused as well, getting out of bed and standing completely naked in front of him... It makes you feel exposed, vulnerable, small and inferior to him.
This new emotion, the deep embarrassment that has your face feeling hot and your stomach to churn with anxiety makes you dress up and leave "your friend's" room in the speed of light.
You lock yourself in your much smaller room, preparing a bubble bath for your spent and tired body. You smile to yourself a little, remembering how Charlie had made sure you'd have your own bathtub so that you can read your books while soaking in the warm water.
Sinking in the water, having it envelope you, cleanse your energy and take his scent off of you feels nice. You let your eyes droop until they close lazily, you allow your shoulders to relax, your jaw to unclench. A long and audible sigh. Your hands around your frame.
You start crying.
If another deer demon resided in the hotel, he might as well had spent his breeding season with them. You weren't special. The mere thought of such a thing is killing you. You were just another victim of the radio demon's manipulation.
Still, it's your fault as well. For believing this was more than what it appeared to be? Maybe. You are getting more and more confused by the minute.
But oh the way he had been repeating your name like a prayer... It must mean something to him, you being there for him that is. You didn't even judge the way he had spilled tears of sexual frustration when handjobs weren't enough to relieve the ache in his loins.
Who else has seen Alastor Hartfelt of pride under this light? No one. You are the only exception. He wouldn't have allowed you to get so close to him if he didn't trust you.
As your thoughts keep overlapping and fighting with each other and you continue to cry softly, you peak up the all too familiar sound of static.
Another unfair thing! He can melt into shadow and go anywhere he pleases... The sound intensifies as he approaches... you? Is he really thinking of invading your space like that? You can't even cry and be miserable at peace! Not like you're in Hell.
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"Bonjou! Konmen s'apé kouri? Huh?"
Not only are you not in the mood to ask him to translate what he just said, but Alastor literally spawned in your bathroom and he's now acting like this is okay to do. The way he's readjusting his lapels and smiles smugly like he wasn't a grunting mess last night infuriates you even further.
"Can you please get the fuck out of here?"
"Mh?" he just stands there in his usual apathy. He's even holding his cane.
"Can you at least stop smiling for a second?"
"Oh ho! I'm afraid I can't do that my dear!"
"But you can definitely get your ass out of my room! I-" The sound of your voice carries to your ears like a child whining. There's a lump in your throat that you're beginning to fear you won't be able to keep down for much longer. If your face and hair weren't already wet from the bath, then it would be crystal clear that you were weeping like an idiot before he suit himself in.
Alastor is quick to gauge your body language. You're hugging your knees, shielding your naked body from him. Sometimes you swear he can tell your emotional state by sniffing the air around you. It's like your scent is enough for him to piece together the puzzle you are. The radio demon scranches his nose.
"What's there to be so sad over y/n? Today is a beautiful day!"
Is he playing stupid?! Because if he's doing this on purpose... Well, there's not much you can do now that he doesn't need you anymore.
Your lower lip trembles at this terrible thought and the lump in your throat escapes your notice, resulting in a broken and weak sob to come out of you.
Tilting his head to the side way more than necessary and squinting his eyes, Alastor asks "Are you pregnant?"
You freeze and widen your eyes. "I- Is that even... even fuckin' possible in the afterlife?"
The fucker chuckles!
"Oh I don't think so, at least not for lowly demons such as yourself!" The worst part is that he wasn't trying to insult you by saying that, but rather calm you down.
"Go to Hell."
"Ironic."
You can't help it now. You break down in tears. Your chest feels tight as the sobs ripple through your body and make your frame retreat to itself. In addition to your general misery, the water has gone cold, causing you to shiver.
The overlord places his cane against the tiles of the wall and crouches down so he is eye-level with you. He won't let it show just yet, but Alastor is very worried. There's a guilt eating him from the inside.
While he was in heat, in breeding mode, or whatever you wanna call it, he wasn't fully aware of his actions. Alastor's mind was blurred from the desire to mate and basically reproduce. Now that he's back to his senses, he has come to the unpleasant realisation that he might have caused you harm in the process of letting out his passion.
And this simply won't do! This deer demon has done cruel and vile things that he doesn't particularly feel bad about, but hurting you... He would never be able to forgive himself.
You were there for him and showed him a great deal of love and understanding.
So, that's the reason you left so hurriedly from his quarters... He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. HE DID IT TO YOU.
Alastor's permanent grin fades just slightly. It is replaced by concern, evident in the way he looks at your trembling body in the water. He reaches out to gently touch your skin, checking for any signs of pain or discomfort. Your friend's voice softens, it's now filled with genuine worry and regret.
"I'm so sorry darling... I didn't know I caused you... pain."
It's true that you have many bruises and hickeys decorating various places on your body, but that's not the reason behind your breakdown.
"I- It's not th-" you just look down. You can't even explain yourself.
The radio demon's worry deepens after your vague response and he quickly takes action to be by your side, pulling you out of the bathtub and into a tight hug. Alastor whispers reassurances in your ear, his voice filled with remorse.
"I'm so sorry... We should have stopped when it got too much."
No one has heard Alastor apologize before, not even God, for all that's worth.
His expression softens even further as he sees your tears that just keep coming. He carefully brushes them away, worry etched into every line of his handsome face.
"I didn't mean to make you cry. You must know that."
"I'm not in pain... Just sad."
You do look rather devastated.
Alastor is almost frozen in place from all the guilt since he can now see the bruises forming on your skin. The water camouflaged them, but now they are exposed for him to observe and take in.
He swallows hard, his voice shaking with emotion like never before. "Y/n... I didn't mean to do that. I didn't. None of it."
"None of it?"
Your voice is muffled due to how you have hid your face in his chest. At least he's warm.
"My intention wasn't to cause you injury or physical pain."
You look up at him, finally making eye contact. He's looking at you as well, eyes shining with regret, guilt and what appears to be shame.
What really surprises you though, is the pleading tone of his voice. It's one thing to be vulnerable because he's hungry for sexual contact and another because he genuinely cares for you.
"Can you ever forgive me for this? I promise, it was never my true intention. I just... I got carried away. And now... It's not an excuse..."
"You really meant none of it to happen between us?"
"Now now little deer! Someone's getting ahead of themselves! That's not what I implied at all."
You sigh and settle in his lap.
"Oh mon cher, did you really think I regret our... stimulating times?"
Alastor's long arms press you against him, his clothes absorbing the water on your still bare skin. He then peaks you up bridal style and carries you to your bed. It's not king sized like his but he doesn't seem to care for such detail right now.
"Now let me see you."
"I said I'm fine!"
"The artist will be the evaluator of his work."
"No Al! Artists get critics to evaluate their work."
"Hmmm, did you say something dear? Cause I didn't hear you!"
It's a common tactic of his to hide his real feelings by being chatty and pleasant. You of course know that, but in your current state it's very validating to have him take care of you.
So he did care. And he still does after having stopped necessarily needing you.
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Alastor isn't joking around. He's searching your body, subconsciously writing down every scratch, every bruise and hickey, every bite mark.
Ears alert on top of his head, eyes wide open. He can even make out the shape of his fingertips on your hips... He turns you on your stomach only to discover his whole palms are imprinted on your buttocks. Meanwhile, you just allow him to inspect your body for as long as he wishes. All the crying has left you drained but also tranquil and calm.
"I'm fine Al. Really."
"Shhh, I'm not done evaluating the damage."
"It's just a bite or two."
"I drew so much blood..."
"Yes and?"
He just keeps observing, keeps rolling you this way and that. The scratches and the bruises are the most triggering to him. They remind Alastor of unhappy memories, in the days when he still hadn't taken good care of his father. As long as he hasn't permanently marked you it should be fine.
"I'll ask Niffty for some ice."
"N- no... Can we just... sit here? Like... cuddle?"
"You were my solace."
"What-"
He gently presses a finger on your lips to shush you.
"Thank you."
"You don't have to say that. It's not like I helped you with a flat tire or something."
"I don't do cuddling."
"Nor touching for that matter. But... It's not that bad, huh? Just let me put something on first."
You stand up and go to your closet to pick something to put on. Your hair is still wet and your legs still feel sore from all of your intense moments, but it was a relief to know he still wants you in his life after the rut has ended.
Alastor's behaviour makes you wonder. He's contradictory. From fucking your throat in his radio station, to bending you over various objects in the hotel, taking you in missionary, against walls, windows and doors, he still seems pretty reluctant to give himself to intimacy. Unlike those times, his mind is now clear, no overwhelming heat involved. Intimacy -to him- equals vulnerability and vulnerability equals pain. The inevitable way in which things had worked out in his life.
"But we did sleep together until yesterday."
The radio demon cannot deny you. He's already sat at the edge of your bed, taking off his coat, shoes and anything else that could make the experience any less enjoyable.
"I wish I could say you'll take this to your grave."
You grin brightly and chuckle at his silly, little remark. Your confidence has been restored to an extent after he made it clear that he does concern himself with your wellbeing.
"But why do you not like being touched? Physical contact is a form of affection."
"Or a form of punishment, of intimidation, domination and... many other vile things my dear..." His voice is too low for your liking as he says that. You don't know what burdens Alastor's shoulders, but it can't be good. And I'm not even referring to his own cruelty and the pain he has inflicted on others. Maybe his opinion of physical contact is connected to the endless scars on his body.
"Oh well whatevs Al. I just want my cuddles."
The way his ears are pulled back and he looks at you almost like he's a shy and innocent boy makes your heart bit faster. At least there's no velvet rubbing off his antlers this time.
Alastor is extremely gentle and cautious in the way he handles you now. He lays down on his back and you use his chest as a pillow. It's a cozy place. His chest. He has some fluff there, just like Angel Dust, but unlike the former he hides it under layers of clothing and keeps it unstyled. Still, it's undoubtedly soft and fuzzy and you like to sink your hand in it or swirl the soft hairs around your fingertips. The radio demon isn't complaining as one might expect, it's soothing to have someone touch his body in a non-hostile manner. It's refreshing to have someone appreciate his body as it is.
Would you also appreciate it if you saw him as he once was?
His father hadn't. He could handle the child of a mixed marriage, but Alastor wasn't just mixed, but also looked the part and according to the racist beliefs of his father in the 1900's that was a bad thing.
As you're nuzzling against his long and elegant neck, your friend's mind wanders. You lived during the 90's. What would it have been like if he had also lived during that period? Everything would have been different. The town he grew up in, his relationship with his parents, his career as a radio host and a serial killer.
"Did you know that my hair is naturally curly?"
Your ears perk up at that and Alastor gently takes hold of them and pulls at them from the root, just slightly.
"That feels nice..."
"Oh I know."
"What were you saying?"
"Oh yes, my hair's curly! Since I was nothing but a tiny, adorable baby boy! ...my mother... she..." His hand lets go of your ears and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he takes a deep breath and lets it out in a long sigh.
There's a melancholy about him now and you feel the need to comfort him. He's opening up to you by being genuine and vulnerable. Alastor is sharing a part of who he used to be and the least you can do is listen. You resume your activities on his fluff, almost massaging the area. He seems to like it, for a moment closing his eyes and letting a sound like purring.
"Can you keep this up?"
"Sure Al."
"Merci. What was I saying...? Oh yes of course! Mama and my curly mop."
The radio effect of his voice and his arms around you make you feel like you're a kid being told a bedtime story. It's a good thing the other residents have gotten used to you and Alastor disappearing together for long periods of time. His soft chest fluff under the pads of your fingers only intensifies the feeling of being told a story while tucked in bed, warm and safe from the outside world.
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"It's truly amazing how much power is given to hair in certain cultures. In my culture, dear y/n, hair texture served as an indicator of social status. My family -a wedding between a white man and a creole woman of colour... oh ho dear! It was something else back then...-
As a kid, I was always the one teased for having “weird hair”, as if it didn’t match my other facial features. When school began, my sweet mama, she... she would put my hair in locs to protect the curls. Apparently they didn't like that at school! So my father... he radio static intensifies he made my mother shave it. He claimed that if my mother and I wore our hair differently then no one would take us seriously."
You take a moment to digest this new piece information. It's true that locs enclose the natural hair and help it stay intact. It's also true that Alastor grew up in a time when it was very difficult to be of a cultural background which was different to the majority's. You choose to not comment on anything, that's not your job.
You swirl some more of his fluff around your fingertips before moving your hand to his hair.
"Well, it's not curly in the afterlife."
You feel the vibration of his chuckle through your check that is resting on his chest.
"But it is!"
Alastor lets out a satisfied sound as he presses you even tighter against him and begins rumbling about his hair care routine. He uses anti frizz oils, heat protection oils and then blow dries it. Truth is, that's just the steps you managed to actually register in your brain, because a sleepiness started overtaking you as you stayed laying in his embrace.
You're now fading between consciousness and unconsciousness. It almost feels like you're floating. Is this what Heaven is like?
Maybe it is. Maybe it is not. But you did manage to find your little oasis in Hell. And so did he.
Alastor looks down at your much smaller frame curled up against him. Your breath has slowed down and your eyes are closing. Why does it feel so warm and soft to have you close to him like this? He knows he shouldn't be letting his guard down, but he can't help it when it comes to you. The radio demon is enamoured with you.
Wanting to make the experience even cozier and dreamier for his favourite sinner, Alastor starts singing quietly. His sense of rhythm is immaculate and his jazzy tunes make you fall sound asleep in no time whatsoever.
When you wake up an hour or so later, he still hasn't moved, but he acknowledges that you're awake with a small hum.
"Oh wakey wakey my darling y/n!" had been his usual response to you waking up while he was in the rut. However, right now he appears to be much more unguarded and raw than his usual persona. You haven't even completely woken up and you're already wondering about this new side of him.
"Al? Is everything okay?"
"Oh why yes it is, but there's this thought occupying my brilliant mind..."
"Care to share it with my not so brilliant one?"
You expected him to laugh or even chuckle but Alastor goes straight to the point. "All this... making love and we still haven't kissed. Not really."
Kissing him would mean that you actually view him romantically and that whatever "friends with benefits" situation you had going on will get destroyed. That's not a bad thing though. Despite your initial fears of your fellow deer demon being too emotionally unavailable and only needing you to calm down the torment of his lust, a kiss wouldn't hurt. Kisses are good.
"We can change that y'know."
You make the first step by leaning towards him, basically giving him the green light that you're consenting to this. Alastor notices it and loses no time, pressing his lips against yours while wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close into another embrace. He smiles widely as you kiss, his head tilting slightly as he runs his fingers through your hair. After a few seconds pass, he pulls his head back, slowly breaking the kiss as he looks into your eyes with a broad smile on his face.
"Aren't you delightful?!" and he dives back in.
Alastor's second kiss with you is firm and passionate, but not overly aggressive. His lips are very warm and he seems to enjoy the intimacy of taking his time to explore your mouth. As the kiss progresses, he gradually increases the pressure of his lips on yours. His arms wrap around your waist and his tongue slowly wanders further into the welcoming heat of your mouth.
Once again -just like when it came to sex- you have come to the conclusion that Alastor isn't that experienced, but some raw power, an instinct if you will, provides him with the ability to do all the right moves at the right time.
And then you just break character. You burst into laughter. His large and pointed ears twitch at that change of pace.
"When I thought I was doing a good job-"
"Oh no, that's not it at all. I'm just happy." You're giddy and so is he.
Maybe not needing you but actually wanting you isn't the worst case scenario.
To be continued.
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liveontelevision · 7 months
Text
Quick Fix | Alastor X Reader
My first smut! This was harder than i expected 🥲 let me know what y'all think <3
Preview:
"You Asshole!! What were you thinking?? What made you think you could beat a fucking exorcist without an angelic weapon? Let alone, Adam!" You were pacing back and forth in the half lounge/half swamp room. The radio demon sat on the cushioned chair by the green-flamed fireplace. He seems completely unphased, not exactly angry or sad, just empty.
"You may be strong, Alastor, but know your fucking limits! Fuck!" You scolded him, looking in his direction every so often, hoping for some kind of response. Anger, guilt, anything.
•••
You became close with Alastor after appearing in the hotel just weeks before the battle on extermination day. After constantly complaining about being bored, the demon was finally sick of it. He let you sit in during his broadcasts, have morning tea with him, and eventually become a part of his daily routine. You were less whiney when preoccupied, Alastor told you, as a way to cover his enjoyment of having you nearby wherever he went. You became closer after time due to your constant questioning. He told you small things, like the type of jazz he enjoyed, specific whiskeys he liked while alive, and his plans for upcoming broadcasts.
He was too stubborn to admit this was anything beyond wanting occasional company. And you were too dense to really notice his soft blushes that would creep across his cheeks whenever you gave him a quick hug, or how he would lay his hand overtop yours when your arms were linked, or the occasional sweet smiles that he'd adorn while looking at you.
Putting the obvious feelings aside, you became incredibly concerned hearing that Alastor volunteered to take care of Adam during the upcoming war. You did what you could during the battle, mainly shielding yourself from oncoming attacks and leading exterminators to those who were equipped to land the final strike. Occasionally, you'd notice some small black and white stitched dolls running around and taking out exterminators that you didn't notice. One's that would've surely killed you. All you could do was shelter yourself from the slaughter after the shield cracked around the hotel. You didn't get a chance to even process everything until the battle had finally ended.
No one had seen Alastor for days while renovating the hotel, only appearing once the grand opening arrived. He was chipper and devious, like usual, acting completely normal (or however normal looks on a radio demon) around everyone. He would attempt to tease you, but you were quick to dismiss him, or turn your back, or simply walk away.
When chasing around Niffty one night, after she managed to steal your jacket with the smallest stain, you turn a corner and smack right into Alastor's chest. You hold in your gasp, straining your neck to look the demon in the eyes.
"Alastor! S-sorry, see, Niffty took my jacket and i think she went that way, so i starting running and-" your quick words were immediately silenced once you saw him hunch over, holding himself up with a hand on his knee, the other gripping tightly onto his chest.
"Alastor, what's wrong? Hey, talk to me! Al, please..!" You hovered around him, noticing a small stain of blood form on his suit. Your eyes were quick to well up with tears, assuming that wound was your fault. He lifted his head to see your sorry state and quickly stood straight. He acted as if he wasnt just hunched over in pain, "Come my dear, i assure you this has nothing to do with you. No need to worry your little head." He spoke sweetly, patting your head, as if the blood stain wasnt slowly spreading across his suit.
It didn't take long for you to question and pester him into letting you follow him to his room. Just for tea, he clarified. He routinely hung up his coat as he entered his room, taking a heavy seat in his chair. You refused to say anything in that moment. You had nothing to say to him. He needed to explain himself to you. You held your cup in your hands, watching him casually drink his tea, simply ignoring the large stain across his shirt. He finally let out a sigh, wanting to end this awkward silence.
"I seemed to have taken some damage during my battle with Adam. I was quick to make the right decision, and left the battle." He shrugged off the statement as if it were no big deal. "And clearly it was the proper response, I would hate to get in the way of Lucifer's battle." He hissed out the king's name, scowling at the thought of him finishing Adam off himself.
He widened his eyes in your direction, hearing the shatter of procelain. Your hands were shaking to the point that your cup fell off your lap. The sudden sound made Alastor's ears fall back for just a moment.
"Are you... fucking kidding me??" You shouted at him, standing up and huffing your arms across your chest.
"You Asshole!! What were you thinking?? What made you think you could beat a fucking exorcist without an angelic weapon? Let alone, Adam!" You were pacing back and forth in the half lounge/half swamp room. The radio demon sat on the cushioned chair by the green-flamed fireplace. He seems completely unphased, not exactly angry or sad, just annoyed.
"You may be strong, Alastor, but know your fucking limits! Fuck!" You scolded him, looking in his direction every so often, hoping for some kind of response. Anger, guilt, anything.
You felt a hand wrap its fingers around your wrist, pulling you to attention.
"Watch what you say, dear. You'd be a fool to question my strength, again." He spoke in a low frequency, making your heart thump. You quickly snapped away your wrist, looking at him with an unphased expression.
"Then show me. I want to see what he did." This was the first time you spoke so strictly towards him. It shocked him a bit. He groaned and sat back in his chair, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a poorly stitched together wound that trailed from his hip to his shoulder. You tensed your entire body, feeling and looking as small as possible. Of course, you weren't the best of friends, but it still tugged at your heart strings that he wouldn't tell you about this. And as much as you hated to admit it, seeing his bare chest did make you flush.
His head fell into his hand that rested on the arm of his chair, turning his eyes away from your direction. He didn't turn back to you until he heard a small hic. Your eyes welled with tears again, and trying to hold your breath wasn't working." I-I.. i'm so sorry, Alastor, i didn't know you got hurt. I was just.. I was worried... about you." You sniffled in between your words, wiping your eyes. You suddenly feel a hand on the back of your head, Alastor pulls you in, letting your head rest against his chest. Your heart raced, worried that you'd be hurting him more and simply embarrassed to be this close to him. You looked up to meet his eyed, his smile was geniune and sweet, again. A sight you haven't seen in days.
"It's healing fine, darling, our little collision earlier simply pulled the stiches a tad, not to worry." He placed a quick kiss to your head, something you were hardly expecting.
"Was it.. scary?" You asked softly, dewy eyes still looking at him, as he brushed his thumb across your cheek to wipe a falling tear. He held his breath at your question. There was an obvious response. He ruined his microphone, was humilated by a frat boy (Adam) and nearly died. But he would die all over again before admitting his fear.
"Not at all! I've taken much harder hits, i told you, you have nothing to worry about." He spoke quickly, repeating himself to imply an end to the questioning. You looked down at his wound, audibly wincing. Reaching your hand out, you lightly brushed your fingers against the barely scabbed slash. He was quick to flinch backwards at the sudden touch, but kept still after that. He told himself it was to help ease your nerves, but he was denying the fact that your cool hand seemed to ease his pain. You perked up, looking back to him, with a determined look on your face.
" I can sew! I do it all the time! It.. It wont be medical grade - not even close-  but youre falling apart here." You needed to help him somehow. Alastor was conflicted again, nervous at the idea of a more intimate touch, but.. still wanting it. Especially from you. He lets out a hum, and nods. Your eyes brightened immediately, making him smirk a bit more. "Okay! All i need is my little sewing kit, i think i left it in my room, let me get it-" you turned towards the door, suddenly becoming disoriented at the sigh of your own bedroom. You turned back to Alastor, who had sauntered over to your bed and plopped himself down on the side." O-Oh, sure.. this works." You let out a nervous chuckle, gathering some items before sitting next to him on your bed. As you got situated, Alastor laid his back against the bed, hands holding his head. He hummed a soft tune, trying to relax himself as much as he could in this situation. The scent of your room, your body so close to him right where you sleep. Where you would -
He chokes on nothing, before letting his gaze rest on the cieling.
"O-Okay, i know it's gonna hurt, so.. tell me if it's too much, i guess.." You try to warn him, slowly beginning to pull out the thick, coarse, thread that he had clearly used on himself. You cringe at the thought of him stiching up his own fresh wounds, but once you thread your needle, you focused quickly. You were very steady. One hand was placed on his hip, the other looping the bright green thread - the only color you had - through toughened skin. You tried not to get distracted but the numerous smaller scars that led across his entirety. Or by the raising of his chest as he breathed. The moment was so calm, Alastor clearly enjoying this sort of treatment.
"You're doing okay? Need a break? I'm just about halfway there-"
"Darling, what did i say about questioning my strength? If you ask agai-" you suddenly hit a specific spot that must have been especially tender.
"Yeah yeah, i know you can handle it, just making sure. And sit still!" You quickly dismissed his threat.
After a quiet few minutes, you gently tugged the thread, closing the wound as tight as it could be. The silence was calm, neither of you feeling the need to make senseless small talk. You finally sit up with your hands on your hips.
"Done!" You speak triumphantly, appreciating your handy work. Alastor took a moment to sit up. He hadn't fallen asleep exactly, but he sure wasn't entirely awake. He looks down and runs his clawed hands across the threaded wound, surprised by how clean it looked. You immediately noticed that he was surprised by the quality of your stitching, making you scoff and give him a teasing push." I told you i could help! It looks good, just thank me already." You scolded, rolling his eyes at his patronizing actions.
Alastor chuckles delightfully, leaning his body closer to yours.
"Thank you, dear." He spoke in a low tone, almost too close to your face. You attempted to turn your head away, but he was quick to take a hold of your chin and bring your eyes back on him.
" Is that what you want to hear? Hm? Or.. did you want me to repay you some other way?" He was clearly teasing, loving the absolute nervous wreck you were becoming.
"Yes, please." You squeeked out. The look in his eyes was confused, not exactly expecting you to give in so easily. Usually, you were so stubborn when he would treat you this way, but not seeing him for days on end drove you to nod in response to his question immediately.
"Hm. Well, since you worked so skillfully, i suppose you deserve a reward." He pulled you in, his breath heating the skin right by your ear." - And because you asked so nicely~" he murmured, making your face instantly hot. You took a hold of his face and quickly pulled your lips together, giving him no time to tease you any more than he already had. He swallowed whatever he was about to say and gave in to the kiss. He scooched closer, pulling you towards him by your waist at the same time. He pulled away from your lips to enjoy the breathless, flushed look on your face. The demon let out a low chuckle before taking your waist again and pushing your back to the bed, following along with the movement.
He found himself looming over your body, his hands on either side of your head.
"I'll be gentle, cher, not to worry." He spoke sweetly, quick to trace his hand under your shirt. He traced his claws up the center of your stomach and up to your chest, your top being pulled up along with his movement. It revealed a lovely dark red bralette with little structure and thin material, leaving very little to the imagination. He looked over you like he was ready to pounce. Alastor leaned down, locking your lips to his again. You parted your own lips, moving your tongue into his mouth. He flinched in surprise but did his best to conceal it. Your arms wrapped around his neck, running your hands through his hair, as you arched your back towards his body, longing to be closer. He shifted his position, since you had so rudely pulled him down by his neck, to sit atop your hips. The sudden sensation made you yelp into the kiss. Alastor forcefully pulled himself away and sat up to enjoy the desperate look on your face.
"My, my~ eager aren't we?" He teases, running his thumb across his wet lips.
"But you've done enough for me, my dear. Please, just enjoy the show." He had a devilish smile, pulling your bottoms and panties off you while he spoke. You clenched your fists onto the sheets, tensing from sheer anticipation. He moved off the bed and took a hold of your hips, gently palming them before quickly yanking your body to the edge of the bed. You yelped and sat up. "Alastor, be careful! I don't know if you should- i-if you should..." you covered your mouth, not finishing your sentence but desperate to not let out any noises, as he pulled your thighs apart, sitting in between them. He ran his lips across the softness of your inner thighs, leaving occasional bruises on the way towards your center.
He tantalizingly ran his tongue across your folds, somehow already soaked after the past few moments. He lapped up some of your juices, before flicking his tongue across your clit, circling the area immediately. The sharp sensitivity made you jolt, attempting to grab his hair, but accidentally grabbing onto one of his ears. He yelped, flinching at the sensation, but immediately flushing after. You couldn't help but giggle, hearing this powerful demon yelp.
He wasn't happy about being laughed at. He gave you no warning, before jutting two of his fingers into your enterance. You gasp, arching your back into his touch, hand still held tightly on to a combination of his hair and the side of his ear. He would never admit how much that fueled him. He curled his fingers slightly, but not entirely. And began to pump his fingers, but not as fast as you'd like. He knew what he was doing.
"Alastor..! Ahh-" you moaned out his name, grinding against his fingers. Powered by the sound of his name on your trembling lips, he pumped his fingers faster, placing his tongue back against your clit. The sensation when those two actions hit you, made you moan out even louder, your body squirming against his face. He took a hold of your leg and pulled it over his shoulder, to reach an even deeper spot inside of you. "H-Hold on, that's too much..! Al-Alastor i'm gonna cum, you h-have to stop..!" You quickly warn him, giving his hair another yank. He simply ignored any warnings you cried out, letting the feeling build until you lost control. You arched your back, your body convulsing as he continued to overstimulate your cunt. Your eyes watered, trying to squirm away from his grasp, but he wasn't done with you. He held onto your legs, refusing to let you get away for minutes.
"S-Stop! I can't.. mm- it's too much- Al p-please.." you start to beg, the orgasm becoming a slight pain in your stomach. He pulled away quickly, not giving you the satisfaction of letting you ride out your pleasure, which only made your breathing hitch. He went back in for a moment, running his tongue entirely across your folds, cleaning up the juices that were pooling on the blanket beneath you.
He pulled you back onto the bed, letting you catch your breath. He rested his head on his hand, humming satisified at your almost pained reaction.
"Well well.. was that too much to handle? Do you not have the strength to endure anything else?" He teased, faking a coddling voice. He swung his legs back over you, straddling you once again.
"I told you darling, even in my weakened state, you underestimate my strength." He gloated, wickedly smiling down at you. His pride let him go on like this for a moment, before you took the collar of his unbottoned shirt and yanked him to face you. You went on and pressed a heavy kiss onto his lips, immediately pushing your tongue back into his mouth, feeling the dampness that you caused on his chin. You went on like this to the point of him melting into your grasp, letting out small noises into your mouth. Once you were satsified, you pulled him back. Looking at him with sweet doe eyes.
"Alastor? Love?"
you pulled him closer, never giving him a chance to reply, lips pressed against the side of his head.
"Ruin me~" you let out in a silky voice. You released his collar letting him jolt up at the sudden boldness, looking into your eyes that had a lust he never expected to see.
He cleared his throat then shook the surprised look off his face.
"If you insist, Love.."
He tried to play off his growing excitment, but the way he hurriedly took off his trousers, immediately leaving his throbbing cock against your opening, was a clear indicator that you said all the right things. He barely gave you a chance to prepare, before thrusting his hips until he was completely inside of you. Even trying to play off the intimidating and strong act, you could still tell he knocked the wind out of himself. He was quick to begin moving, starting slow to let your discomfort melt away, then setting a hasty rhythm after. His claws dug until your hips, just enough to draw a trail of blood that ran down your thigh. The sight of it drove Alastor even crazier.
He began to lose his strength as he started to reach his orgasm. He fell forward, immediately biting into the flesh of your neck to anchor himself. You let out a stiffled yell, the combination of pain and overstimulated pleasure driving your body to cum almost instantly. You hold onto his back, nails scratching his skin. You could feel him shiver in response. He only went on harder trying to achieve his own high, which was quick to follow yours. He held your hips flush to his as he came inside of you, then after holding that position for a moment, he thrusted his hips into your already full entrance. You let out a pathetic whimper as he sat up, looking down and appreciating the mess of bruises and bites he managed to leave on your soft bust. He licked his lips, taking in a bit of the blood that seeped from those very wounds.
Alastor almost immediately stood up, coming back composed as ever. He delicately cleaned you up, before laying back down onto your bed, next to your still heaving body.
"Asshole, give me a second.." you managed to mumble at him, wiping tears from your eyes. You finally get a chance to look at him, seeing his devious smile. "Okay! Fine! I get it, youre still as strong as ever, get over it!" You yelled, knowing thats what he wanted to hear.
"Of course I am, cher! But.. i'll be more careful from now on, so you won't constantly pester me about my wounds." He spat out, clearly meaning to reassure you, even though he sounded pained to give in to you like that. You smile and give him a quick kiss before your eyes trail back down to his chest, half the fresh stitches ripped open. You roll your eyes before getting up to grab your needle and thread again.
"Oh my! I suppose you'll have to fix me up again! Be more thorough this time, dear. i'll have to thank you for this repair, as well."
708 notes · View notes
evie-sturns · 5 months
Text
boyfriend - Matt Sturniolo
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summary: where your boyfriend of 2 years breaks up with you without reason, you go to your comfort place, your best friend matt's house and he does everything he can to calm you down.
contains: fluff, bestfriend!matt, crying, comforting.
--------------└── •✧• ──┘-----------------
panic flushes over me, my body heats up as my eyes scan over the screen of my phone. i instantly call him, my boyfriend aiden
"are you serious aiden?" i raise my voice as he picks up the phone,
"we're done, i told you." he says blankly with next to no emotion in his voice, hes been my boyfriend for just over 2 years.
he knows the shape of my lips against his,
he knows that i can't sleep by myself,
he knows my family,
he knows my daily routine from the second i wake up to the second my head hits the pillow.
and now he breaks up with me over text.
"why!?" i cry, i hear a subtle scoff from aiden before he hangs up. i instantly start to sob, throwing myself up off my bed and grabbing my keys.
i run downstairs and out the door into the night air, making my way down my driveway towards my cute small car.
i slam the door to my car shut, sinking down into the drivers seat as i check my phone. i've been blocked on almost everything already.
tears soak my cheeks as i let out shaky sobs.
--------
11:49
i knock twice on matt's front door, wearing sweatpants and a small shirt. my shoulders are by my sides, shaking up and down with each panicked cry.
after a couple of seconds the door opens slowly, i'm met with matts face.
he looks down at me, a short gasp escapes his mouth as he looks at the state of me.
he grabs my hand and frantically pulls me inside, "hey- hey whats going on?" matt asks , trying to sound calm.
"matt- matt." i sob, he grabs me and pulls me into a tight up, running his mildly shaking hand up and down my back
"shh.. sh sh." matt attempts to shush me before pulling me down the corridor into his bedroom.
he throws me down onto his matress, instantly chucking a blanket over me and sitting down next to me.
he waits for me to speak, still completely unaware why i showed up to his house in floods of tears at midnight.
"i- aiden broke up.. with- with me" i manage to squeeze out in between shaking breathes.
matt goes silent before pulling me onto his lap, holding me across him. i cry into his shirt
"over text with no reason-!" i continue
matt stays silent, breathing deeply. i copy his breathing pattern "you 'wanna know something?" matt says, i nod
"he's made a big mistake, you're the most lovely girl i know. aiden doesn't know what hes lost because- i know, i know that he will regret letting go of the most gorgeous, sweet girl ever." matt sighs,
"yeah?" he continues, i nod shyly.
he rubs my arm, "you can let it all out okay?" matt says softly, picking me up and standing up out of bed, he pulls back the silky sheets of his bed before placing me.
he lays down next to me, pulling up the blanket over us, i lay my head on his chest.
"he never cared about me matt." i admit "and now half my shit is- its just stuck in his apartment" i sniffle, wiping my nose on his shirt which matt doesn't bat an eye to.
"you know what, i'll go get it now okay? chris can come stay in here while im gone." matt says, heaving himself up of the bed
"matt you don't have to do that- honestly," i protest, matt just shakes his head
"don't worry 'bout it." he says, walking out of the room.
-
chris walks into the room wearing blue pyjama pants and a loose fit white shirt, he has a concerned expression on his face as he flops down on the bed beside me
"you okay?" he asks, "i don't know- i'll be fine." i reply with a strained voice.
"matt told me what happened, i'm sorry about aiden or whatever the fuck hes called." chris sighs
he wraps an arm around my shoulder and tugs me closer to his side, we lay in a comfortable silence for about 30 minutes before matt comes back
"im sorry i gotta take a shit, thats my fault give me a couple minutes." chris blurts out
"thanks chris." i laugh slightly as he sits up, walking out of the room.
-
matt comes back in holding 2 bags in his hands, he brings them over to me with a soft smile on his face. he reaches his ringed hand up and scratches the side of his face.
"you didn't have to- how'd it go..?" i say, matt lays back down next to me
"he was screaming at me the whole time, all 'who the fuck are you' but i think he recognised me after a minute of ransacking your room." matt laughs
i shake my head "i'm sorry."
"don't be" matt says,
"try go to sleep now okay?" he says pressing a kiss to my forehead.
---------------------
TAGLIST:
@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt
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sexlapis · 8 months
Text
my baby, my baby…
୨ৎ toji x reader
gender neutral!reader, reader is having a difficult time ;(, talks of depression, anxiety, nausea & headaches, soft!toji
wc: 1.4k
a/n: been feeling down & blue lately… craving the comfort of big man 💭🧸
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*
relief floods you as you walk into your cosy house, abruptly dropping your bag on the floor carelessly and throwing off your uncomfortable shoes. a tired and weak sigh leaves your mouth as you plod in the living room.
there is a weight of a long day that rests heavy on your shoulders, the tendons of your muscles wound up tight, as is the nauseous pit in your lower stomach.
the superficial, constant chatter with your colleagues and clients, having to skip lunch due to how busy it was, the never ending feeling of isolation and loneliness even around so many other people, the confining feeling of businesswear, the everyday stress, how everyone relied on your contributions that you believe to be insignificant and trivial, the now growing headache at the back of your head…
you are exhausted.
sadly for you, your anxious nature likes to make itself known all throughout your whole entire body, most commonly burying itself in your stomach and intestine, morphing into faux sickness and nausea that no amount of pressure point massages or medicine could solve.
you are exhausted.
this behaviour of yours has been going on for the past two months and toji, your sweet and observant husband, has obviously taken notice.
he notices your dark circles and eyebags, your more drowsy and slow demeanour, the irritableness, the skin-picking to the point of blood drawn and the hair pulling. to say toji is worried would be an understatement.
he is being more gentle with you, you can tell. it’s like he’s walking on…eggshells around you, not wanting to say the wrong thing in case you blow up or have a meltdown.
you’re not a fan of such treatment even though you are aware that if he acted in any other way, you probably would have snapped by now.
toji asks if you are okay, if you need anything, if you want anything.
and you. you say no and proceed with your picture perfect daily routine of meditation, journaling, exercise, consuming a healthy breakfast, diligently working your job and going to sleep at a normal time.
yet none of these are able to quell the hollow in the depth of your organs, the same hollow that runs through your veins, your arteries and right to your very core.
you fall onto the couch and lay your body across it, sinking into the softness and resting your head down on a pillow.
now, after this shitty day, you just want to cuddle with your big, protective husband who you love dearly.
your phone vibrates against your leg and you snatch quickly despite your enervation, wishing the notification to be a message from toji. toji will make this all better.
unfortunately, nothing about your day seems to be going to plan.
tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you read over toji’s message.
toji🐻🩷
gonna be back really late dont stay awake for me
a frustrated snarl escapes from your lips and you’re flinging your phone across the room in a fit of fury, that is quickly replaced with sadness.
your shoulders shake and you cover your mouth to hold in your loud sobs, tears trickling down the bridge of your nose and cheek, soaking the pillow you lay on.
even in the sanctuary of your home, loneliness does not elude you at all.
the pounding in your head eased slightly, just enough for you to find repose as the past weeks finally catch up with you and you fall into a deep sleep.
*
toji enters the house around ten thirty at night. he cracks his neck, removes his shoes and places his rucksack on a nearby chair. his foot catches on something and he stumbles before regaining his balance, hissing in annoyance and looking back sharply to glare at whatever tripped him up.
your work shoes.
he looks around on the floor and sees your bag on the floor nearby.
that’s odd of you. you do not usually leave a mess on the floor, especially in the doorway.
toji huffs. “‘the hell…”
he hangs up his jacket on the coat rack and walks in the living room, where he then finds you, asleep on the couch.
it makes toji sigh. he told you not to wait for him. so why did you so clearly do just that?
*
you feel yourself being shaken back and forth by the shoulder and toji quietly calling out your name.
“_____…_____, wake up…”
you groan, blinking your eyes open. the dryness of your throat, the cracked skin of your lips and the drool smeared on your cheek is enough to tell you that you’ve been asleep for quite some time.
toji is back. it must be ten at night by now, and you arrived home at five.
you had been asleep for five hours.
toji sits on the couch next to where you thighs are, the seat dipping with his weight and places a hand on your waist, “_____, i told you to go to bed and not wait up, didn’t i?”
you sit up and lick your dry lips, trying to find your words. you look down and fiddle with your fingers, picking at your skin, “no, i…i didn’t..i didn’t,” you interrupt yourself with a long yawn, “i didn’t wait for you..jus’ fell asleep.”
“fell asleep, huh? in your work clothes and on the couch? _____, you never do that.”
a hum from you is the response he gets and silence falls thereafter.
toji takes this moment to scan you over.
the deep lines of fatigue under your eyes, the frown on your lips, the dullness in your once vibrant complexion, the newfound slowness of your movements, the lost look in your eyes..
you were not looking too good.
“hey,” he says softly, ducking his head a little to get a look at your downtilted face, “you okay? what’s wrong? please just tell me.”
the concern and tenderness in his voice flood your eyes with tears, and you whimper, “everything…everything is just fucking shit.”
a hiccuped sob leaves you as you start to really cry again, all of your pent up emotions coming to surface and you let it all out.
and toji is cooing at you, shocked at your sudden weeping but swiftly wrapping his arms around you and scooping you into his lap, “oh, baby…”
you bawl into his work uniform as he cradles you in his lap, nuzzling his face into the top of your head while rocking himself back and forth, calming you down with sweet “sh, sh, shh ‘s” and “i know, i know ‘s”.
the tension in your body lessens with each tear that rolls down your face, the release of emotions overwhelms yet relaxes you all at once.
toji strokes your head and back, calming your erratic, hefty breaths and your quick heartbeat until your weeps gradually turn into sniffles and your whimpers turn into sad hums.
it’s quiet for a while as you settle with toji’s help.
toji is still caressing your soft hair when he speaks again, “‘that feel better?”
“…mhm.”
“okay.”
a beat of silence falls over the two of you, the only sound being the crisp crackle of the fireplace and your heavy breathing.
you feel your face heat up in embarrassment at your emotional breakdown.
this was all your fault, anyway. if you had spoken to somebody about your feelings and had been honest with toji from the beginning, then this would not have happened. but that’s just the special thing about you. bottling up all of your emotions, letting the water and waves rise until the dam cracks and bursts open, destroying everything in its path including yourself.
“sorry…i’m sorry,” you garble tearfully, “i should’ve..should’ve said something sooner…”
“don’t be dumb, ‘s fine.”
toji fushiguro, the comforter you are.
toji isn’t the most gentle or sensitive man, but he’s him. he’s toji, broken and scarred and soft toji and that’s all that matters to you.
you nuzzle into his broad neck, inhaling the now soothing scent of smoke, cigarettes and rubber.
the safety, reassurance and protection you feel while in his arms was immense and nothing compared to it. knowing toji will always have your back and will always be there for and never judge makes you feel a little worse for not telling him about your issues. toji understands.
“y’know we’re gonna have to talk about this, right? no more keeping this shit to yourself.” toji asks.
“yeah,” you sigh, already dreading the looming but necessary conversation, “yes, i know.”
“but we can do it another day. ‘think someone needs some medicine and some food. and good nights sleep in a bed,” he squints his eyes as he looks down at you, making you cower. you’re definitely not saying no to that, “how does some takeout sound?”
warmth rushes through your chest as you stare at his love-filled eyes and how the orange light flickers across his face, which holds a tender expression. you feel better already.
“yeah, that sounds good toji.”
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a/n: i luv toji <33
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thirstydemisexual · 1 month
Text
Blood path || Jason Todd x vampire!reader
Prologue
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divider by: @sister-lucifer
PSA: the povs will switch from second to third person as convenient. also I'm writing this as I go so yeah the pacing between the parts hopefully will be coherent
warnings: 18+ content, mention of r4pe, blood, a p3do getting what the fuck he deserves, (and bad grammar)
I've made mistakes, Lord struck me down Caught in a landslide, lost underground I hear them gates, swing open loud Come close to midnight, hell fade me down - Used To The Darkness by Des Rocs
The night was young. As the last shades of orange had just dissipated in the sky, Gotham prepared itself as their usual over abundance of criminals took to the streets. Some of them tho, were busy browsing on the internet, unlucky them.
Phil, 38, child predator who escaped Arkham a couple weeks prior, sneaking away as the Bat and the other heroes took care of the bigger fishes, was browsing on the dark web, looking on his phone at his favorite source of inappropriate child videos with a fist down his pants.
The abandoned building in which he resided, which was once an apartment complex before a villain attack, was located in a rather well populated zone of Gotham. Only two streets down from The Wayne foundation preschool.
Unlucky for him, his connection wasn't the most secure. Even a high schooler with basic computer science knowledge would have been able to dox him.
The dumb fuck didn't even try locking the door, not like it had a functional lock to begin with. But non the less, she still wouldn't be stopped by a mere lock as that men's refuge wasn't his home, thus the threshold didn't bound her. She was able to sneak into the premises without as much as a sound.
She was hungry and her face was morphed into an inhuman shape.
He doesn't even have time to scream or fight as her fangs sinks in his neck, tearing his carotid artery. Long claws shredding up the skin on his forearms as he tries to reach to stop his attacker. He stops squirming in seconds as she feasts on his blood, draining him in mere moments.
After she's done she quickly leaves the building, ready to go home and wash her hands and mouth throughly as just the mere thought of having touched that individual, let alone feeding from him, in her post feeding shame(and because of than mans nature) made her regret her choice of feeding.
Although she would never regret ridding the world of scum like him.
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It was a weirdly sunny day in Gotham, Jason Todd noticed as he turned off the engine of his motorcycle after parking in the Gotham University parking lot.
Last night patrol had took a tool on him, and he was more exhausted than normal. He threw his book bag on his shoulder before entering the building, toward his first class of the day.
Jason normally quite enjoyed his Modern Literature class, but today all he wanted to do was crush on his bed at his safe house and sleep away until patrol hour came.
He sat down in one of the last rows in the room and crossed his arms on the desk before laying his head down and closing his eyes, he couldn't wait for the day to be over.
"Slept bad?" a familiar voice came from his side. Jason lifted his head up, a little smile at the realization of who it was.
"You could say that" His eyes didn't leave you as you sat down next to him and started to get your stuff ready for class.
"You could have skipped class today Jay, you seem way too tired to be here"
"And miss the chance to have our daily banter, no way miss" he replied, smirk on his face. You couldn't help but roll your eyes.
"Seriously Jay, you can't keep coming to class looking like a zombie"
well technically I am a living dead so its not that out of character for me, thought Jason but didn't voice it out to her.
"I'll take a nap between classes alright? Come on, don't act like you wouldn't miss me if I were to go back home"
"You're incorrigible Todd"
"I don't hear you denying my claim" he kept smirking at you, you shushed him as the professor started class.
"Just rest your eyes, I'll give you my notes later" he chuckled a bit as he put his head down on the desk again,
"You'd be a light saver sweetheart"
If you could blush, the nickname would have done it. You tried to stay concentrated but your gaze would often stray onto Jason's figure, slumped over the deck, neck slightly exposed.
Looking so appetizing
You mentally slap yourself as you divert your eyes. That is Jason, one of your only friends NOT a charcuterie board.
You took a deep breath and tried to calm down. You didn't know why but even after feeding the thought and sight of Jason Todd just riled you up, hunger rising through your undead body and plaguing your mind.
Hopefully you'll keep being able to control yourself around him.
You have to
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TAG LIST: @deimks , @amber-content , @deans-spinster-witch , @that-one-goblin , @snowy-violet , @thenightwingnerd , @zffhahaa
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urprettylittlething · 25 days
Note
What happens when Cursed Kitty starts bugging Gojo and Gets to let her leave outside? Do they punish her or do they just give in?
-🥟
Thank you so much for this request, I'm sorry it’s taken so long for me to get to it but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless :’) I tried my best with writing this <33
The Lesson For Never Leaving
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Yandere - Gojo Satoru x CursedKitty! Reader x Geto Suguru
A/N - I am so so happy to be back, I really hope you all enjoy the content that's to come, and a massive thank you to everyone that's sent in an ask, you've all been so patient with me I love you all so much <333 The poll has voted that these be posted daily so that is what I will be doing :3 Feel free to leave comments either on the post or my inbox, it's really motivating to hear people loving my work <333 I love you all thank you so much <3 and please let me know if I've missed any warnings or spellings, etc. :)
summary - Frustrated and brushed aside, all Kitty wanted to do was go outside.
warnings - Yandere-ness from both of our boys, Spanking, Kitty gets held down, Crying, Kind of harsh, Kitty doesn't really understand what's going on :(, Kinda bratty but she's frustrated and doesn't know how to convey that well, punishment
genre - Oneshot
word count - 1.4k
~spelling and grammar checked~
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The very first time Kitty asks, the both of them would try and distract her instead. Never really answering her question and trying to occupy her with other things in the hopes that she’ll forget about it. 
The next few times when she asks, she bugs them with whiney tugs on their shirts with mumbles of “Outside?”, all wide eyed and pouty lips. They just end up sighing and telling her something along the lines of, “No, you can’t go outside baby. Do you know how dangerous it is out there?” 
And that works for a little while, but the next time she asks and they tell her no, she gets even more pouty, her brows furrowing before she tries asking again. So in return they get just a little bit firmer with their ‘no’s’ and she droops away while sulking.
So when the next time she asks, doing it with a very firm “Outside!” followed along by a stamp with her little foot, they don’t just tell her ‘no’ anymore. Her harshly furrowed brows and downturned lips gently ease themselves from the angered look and instead start to merge into one of vague terror. Suguru and Satoru have taken it upon themselves to start telling her the ‘tales of horror’ they’ve encountered and witnessed from being outside for too long. 
Making sure to add what would happen to a ‘pretty little innocent kitty’ like herself, getting snatched up and stolen away forever.
All of those stories are enough to scare her away for a good few weeks after the two of them got detailed enough to get her lips wobbling and eyes all blurry with tears while her ears drooped and her tail curled in on itself. They told her it was a bad idea, what they’ve been saying all along and how they wished they didn’t need to tell her this much to get her to listen. Doing it all with exaggerated voices so she’d feel guilty enough that she didn’t listen to them in the first place. Opening up their arms to her while she dived into them, mumbling small ‘sorry’s and ‘I stay’s.
So the next time she asks, they decide that it’s time they should lay it on a little heavier if they really want to get the message through to her about never leaving. It also didn’t help that her attitude for asking has gotten more demanding than anything else.
She’s stubborn when they tell her ‘no’ this time. Stamping her foot repeatedly while nearly shouting “Outside!!”. They try doing their little manipulating tactic again, trying the story about the big bad dangers of going outside but she’s hearing none of it. Cutting off their gentle, if not a little strained, voices with a stern “No!” and just repeating what she had previously been saying.
So the two men share a look. Silent conversation being exchanged between just the two of them while Kitty looks on in confusion and frustration. One of them raises his eyebrow and the other shakes his head, looking a little dejected all the while. 
Of course seeing this from the side-lines and not following along with their little private chat at all, Kitty is taking this as another no. 
Her body is shaking and her tail is puffing up in distress because they’re not listening to her and now they’re ignoring her! 
Her eyes welled up with frustrated tears and a few dribbled down her cheeks, her fists clenched at her sides as she all but yelled, “Hate you!”. The two opposite her froze in shock while she continued her spiel. “Hate! Want outside! I hate!” 
They’re stunned into silence, frozen in disbelief and almost outraged because how dare she. All they are doing is trying to keep her safe, they take care of her, feed her, bathe her, love her. And she hates them? 
Their eyes become almost lax, losing the little spark of light that one would normally see. Overcast and dark is how they’re portrayed. Knuckles white and strained from where they’re clutching at different parts of the kitchen counter, where they’d all been during this entire exchange. 
Kitty begins losing her flare little by little until it's practically erased like it had never existed in the first place. Except it had, because the two in front of her are the direct result of her harsh words. And they’re scaring her. Brooding and menacing and she’s shaking where she stands. Tail drooping and curling around her lower leg, ears flattened and eyes big and rounded. Tears no longer falling but instead are caught up in her lashes.
It’s only when one murmurs something along the lines of a punishment, the other agreeing, does she try to turn tail and run. But Satoru had already caught her before she even really began running. He half drags, half carries her down the hall and to their main bedroom. Setting her down face first into the fluffed up sheets, sitting down next to her while keeping her arms restrained snug behind her back. 
Her tail had curled around her waist during the travel and her ears remained flat against her head, small whimpers and the occasional ruffle of fabric as she shifted around were all to be heard in the room. Satoru remains silent by her side, Suguru’s socked feet thudding delicately along the floor as one of her ears twitches slightly in reaction. 
A small whimper is all that's heard when Suguru comes to a stop behind her, flipping up the long baggy shirt Satoru had put on her this morning, revealing her pastel pink lace panties. One of the things they had decided when dressing her for the first time was forgoing any bottoms, they would just be an inconvenience anyway.
It’s when both of them start to speak, one after the other, words of how “This is your punishment.”, “You’re going to learn how to speak nicely.”, “You’ve been a bad kitty.” that makes her bottom lip tremble. Tears welling up in her pretty glazed eyes.
It’s the first hard smack against her pink panty clad cheek that causes her to wail. Big salty tears finally spilled over her waterline and down her cheeks. She starts to squirm when they don’t stop. Harsher and harsher they get. She knows it’s Suguru doing it because Satoru is the one that’s holding her down.
In all honesty she’s struggling to make out what is truly happening. The pain is spreading over each cheek the more Suguru spanks her as she wails and cries. 
A few harsh spanks later and the worst one comes next, a loud cracking smack right over a tender spot on her ass cheek and she shrieks. Openly sobbing and blubbering. She’s wounded and confused, scared and wanting comfort.
This is where Satoru speaks up, curled around her upper half to stop her from escaping her torment. 
He’s saying something along the lines of ‘only trying to help her understand, “we just don’t want to see you get hurt”, “how many curse users and sorcerers would slaughter her without a second thought”. 
All of this combined just makes her sob even harder. Each stuttering inhale and choked out wail, drowning in the mess her face is in of snot and drool and tears. Every smack hurts and every word is less and less comforting. She doesn’t like this. She hates this.
Sobbing and trembling, ears flattened atop her head in her distress while her tail is curled so tight around her waist the muscles strain. 
Suguru delivers the last few slaps against her bruised and blushing red ass before he stops. The only thing heard in the room is the heavy breathing behind Kitty, her crying and Gojo's words of ‘comfort’. 
Eventually after a few minutes to gather their composure they roll Kitty over. Yes, it does hurt them a little to see her cower away from both of them, trying to curl into herself and hide while she sobs from everything inflicted on her these past minutes. 
It’s Suguru that picks her up gently, Satoru leaving to start a hot bath in the other room while Suguru stays on the bed with Kitty. Nestling her into his chest, too exhausted to resist, she buries herself into the side of his neck. Making sure to keep her rear end from touching anything, he stays with her. Kneading her curled in ears gently and making small shushing noises.
Rocking her gently side to side as one hand trails delicate patterns up and down her back. He waits for Gojo to finish the bath, so they can both give Kitty the comfort she deserves. All while reminding her this is what happens when she fights back. And how a lot worse would befall her should she ever dare leave. 
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135 notes · View notes
Note
Wait but I need to know how the 141 boys would react to reader faking an orgasm 🤭
Ps, love your writing!!! I check your bag daily
141 + König Reacting To Reader Faking An Orgasm
Thank you so much for your kind words!!! I love to know when people enjoy reading what I write🩷🩵
Warnings: slight smut, p in v sex, slight angst, swearing, tears, and mentions of insecurity--ends in fluff
I didn't make this super smutty, made it slightly serious!
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Simon Ghost Riley-
Simon honestly didn't mean to find it. He was walking by to finish with laundry and saw your journal laying on your vanity, wide open to a page talking about Simon. He was only human and couldn't control his curiosity as he skimmed over some of the words on the page. What he read had his heart sinking into his stomach.
He approached you about it later that night, his heart beating wildly as he was terrified of what you may say about it.
"Love?" Simon asked, hesitantly stopping in the doorway of your bedroom. His heart melted at the concerned look you gave him. "Can we talk?"
"Sure, Si. Is everything okay?" You asked, patting the bed next to you. Much to your dismay, Simon stayed where he was, his eyes glued to the floor.
"I was putting away laundry earlier, and.. I caught a glimpse of your diary." Simon started, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. You watched on, as he struggled to find the words. "I swear I didn't mean to look, but I saw that.. You've not had a real orgasm in months. That you were..faking them..for me."
Your heart stopped beating for a moment as you absorbed your husband's words. You never, ever meant for him to see that, and you didn't know what to say.
"I..." You trailed off as tears began to fall down your cheeks. "It's not you."
"Don't give me that, kid. If I can't please my own wife in bed, it is my fault. I'm so sorry." Simon's voice was barely above a whisper as he sat on a chair across from you. He put his head in his hands, still unable to look at you as his thoughts raced. Did you not want to be with him anymore? Did you finally realize that you could do better?
"Simon Riley, I meant it when I said it's not you. I've just...I've not been myself lately. I've got so much going on in my head, and my self-image has suffered because of it. I don't find myself beautiful anymore, and it's hard for me to believe you want me during sex."
Simon walked over to you and proceeded to climb over your figure on the bed. He pressed a gentle kiss to your jaw before looking deeply into your eyes. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever set my eyes on, Y/N. Let me show you."
"Simon, please don't feel like you have to. I feel like such a burden and-" He cut you off from your rambling by pressing his thumb against your lips.
"I want to. Let me take care of you." The look he gave you in that moment sent heat barreling down to your core, and you couldn't help the soft moan that escaped your lips.
His hand wandered into the waistband of your pants and groaned when he felt the wetness pooling in your folds. "I want you to cum on my tongue, sweet girl."
"Please, Si."
And that was all he needed to hear.
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Konig-
König was exhausted, and you knew that as well as he did. The two of you had been at it for a while now, and no matter what you or König did, your orgasm was far beyond your grasp.
You could feel Königs pace start to falter, as he'd continued going long after he'd found his own high in order to help you find yours.
You felt terrible, and you could tell he was desperately trying to keep a steady pace. You'd ended up just giving up on trying to find your own high, and decided to give your lover a break.
"Gonna cum, Kö." You breathed out, doing your best to authenticate an orgasm. You let out a small squeal, throwing your head back against the pillow as you forced your body to shake slightly.
König stopped his movements and looked down at you with a concerned look on his face. "Maus?"
You looked up at him questioningly. "Yeah?"
"Did....did you just fake it?" König asked, his voice quivering slightly. König had been with you for a few months now, and he knew how it felt when you had an orgasm, so he knew that you didn't just have one.
"I..." Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you averted your eyes from your lover's inquisitive gaze. "I'm so sorry."
"Was I..not good enough?" König looked like he was on the verge of tears, and it tore your heart in two.
"No, no, that's not it at all, baby." You cooed, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek softly. "I just.. I feel so bad. I know you're tired, and it takes a lot for me to cum. I didn't want to impose."
Königs eyes softened at your words. "Maus, don't ever feel like it's imposing on me. I don't care if I didn't get sleep for days, making you cum is something that makes me feel good."
"It's really okay, Kö. I just dont think it's going to happen for me tonight. I'm not sure why, but I'm just not feeling it." Your eyes turned downward, looking anywhere but your boyfriend. "I'm sorry."
"You don't have to apologize, Schatz. It's okay." He spoke softly as he pulled himself out of you. He let out a hiss, his overstimulated cock throbbing from the cold air. "Follow me."
He stood up, and made his way to the bathroom, and the sound of the tub faucet running had you trudging your way over to him. "What are you doing?"
"Running us a bath, love."
~
You settled yourself against him in the tub, letting the warm water soak into your skin. König chuckled at the sigh that escaped your lips. His hands made their way to your shoulders, kneading into the knots that had formed there.
"K-Kö, you don't have t-to." You stuttered, your eyes falling shut as you relished in his touch.
"Hush, Maus. Let me take care of you tonight."
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Kyle Gaz Garrick-
Kyle's pace was brutal as he continued to chase his high. His hands grasped at yours, putting them over your head as he pounded into you.
You knew he was getting close, and you also knew that you were nowhere near your release. You felt his abdomen tightening, and threw your head back, your mouth opening in a silent "o".
With a final snap of his hips, he let out a guttural moan as his orgasm rippled through him. You shivered slightly as you felt his cock pulsing inside of you, the warmth of his cum filling you.
He looked down on you as his breath began to steady itself. "Did you not cum?"
"I did." You nodded, confused by the look on your lover's face. "Why?"
"Babe, if you didn't cum, it's okay, you can tell me." Kyle sat up, his tone serious, which let you know that he knew the truth. You weren't yourself tonight, and he knew you better than you thought.
"I'm so sorry, I just... I can't get in the mood tonight, and I... I didn't want to hurt your feelings." You felt your eyes grow hot with tears as you averted your gaze.
"Don't ever apologize, sweetheart. You can always tell me if you're not in the mood. I don't ever want you to feel like you have to have sex. I'm a grown man, I can go without it. Just being around you is enough for me." He said, pulling your chin upwards, forcing you to look at him.
"But... but I lied." You stuttered, not understanding how Kyle wasn't upset with you.
"I know, but I get it. I'm not mad at all, babe. I promise." He pulled out of you slowly, before grabbing a towel off the side of the bed to wipe you off.
He climbed into bed, pulling you against him. He pressed a warm kiss to your lips, causing you to sigh against him. "I love you, Y/N. Don't ever forget that."
"I love you too, Kyle." You replied, pulling back with a smile.
"I will say, though. Tomorrow? You're not leaving this bed until I get you to cum at least twice."
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Johnny Soap MacTavish-
"Fuck, fuck I'm so close." Johnny grunted as his eyes fluttered shut. Your walls were hugging around his length in such a way that Johnny wasn't able to prolong his orgasm any longer. "Cum with me, babe."
You felt terrible, you didn't know what to do. You'd not been close all night to reaching your high, and you didn't have the heart to tell your boyfriend. "Cumming, Johnny."
You shook your body slightly as his thrusts faltered slightly as he came inside you, his cum painting your walls white as he moaned softly into your ear. He took a moment to compose himself before looking down at you with a concerned gaze. "Babe, did you cum?"
"Yeah?" You were concerned that he knew, as quickly averted your eyes from his gaze.
"Y/N, honey, you don't have to fake it for me. I know sometimes it takes more than just sex to get you off, and that's okay." He stroked your cheek gently, wiping away the stray tears that began to fall.
His gaze dropped to your lips before pressing his own to them. The kiss started slow, your mouths moving in tandem before he slid his tongue into your mouth.
"I just don't know why I couldn't tonight. I don't know what will help. I feel like such a jerk."
"You're not a jerk, Bonnie. Not at all." He gazed deeply into your eyes as he spoke. "I just want to make you feel good."
You let out a soft groan, your arms moving to encompass his shoulders, pulling him down toward you.
He broke away from the kiss, and you watched as his fingers began to toy with your clit. He chuckled softly as he watched your face scrunch together in pleasure. He rolled your clit in between his fingers, before plunging them into your hole.
"I'm going to make you cum tonight, if it's the last damn thing I do."
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John Price-
"I know Y/BF/N. I don't know how to tell him, though. It's not like he's not good in bed, he really is. I just dont know why I havent been able to cum latley." Your voice was quiet, but unfortunately for you, John was passing by the room right as you said those words.
John stopped in his tracks as he looked into your shared bedroom and saw that your head was in your hands. He swallowed thickly, unsure of what to do with the newfound information. He was just about to walk away, when you caught a glimpse of him through the crack in the door.
You quickly hung up with your friend and ran to throw open the door. There was an awkward pause before you mustered the courage to speak.
"John, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for you to hear that." You felt tears pricking in the corners of your eyes, your humiliation seeping through your voice. "I just.. I was so ashamed to tell you."
"Don't apologize, love. It's nothing to be embarrassed about, either." John pulled you into a hug and pressed a kiss to your hair. "You've been extra stressed with work latley, and I know my coming and going for my work hasn't helped either."
"I still feel terrible. I just didn't know how to tell you. It's not that I don't want it, I really do, I just... I didn't know why it was so hard for me to find my release." You sniffled, hugging John tighter.
"Don't feel terrible. Next time, just tell me, yeah? I should've known they weren't real. You get this cute little fucked out face when you cum, I haven't been seeing it latley." He chuckled, before pulling away from you slightly. "You know what this means, though, right?"
"No, what?" You asked, peering up at your boyfriend.
John gave you a wolfish grin before pushing you backward onto the bed. He climbed over top of you, lifting the hem of your nightgown to reveal your lower half to him.
With his eyes locked on you, he pulled aside your panties before plunging his face into your core. His tongue immediately went to flick through your folds, collecting the pool of wetness that had begun to form. You let out a surprised gasp, your hands flying to John's hair.
"Means I'm gonna stay here all night til my baby girl cums for me, for real."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: thanks for reading!
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xtra7s · 6 months
Text
𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙨
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𝚁𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚎 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚙 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
Synopsis: Renee realizes her girlfriend is struggling and comes back from her tour.
Content: depression warning, fluff, deep talks/discussions, just tw
Word Count: 1.800+
a/n: I havent been writing lately, but I was listening to my shitty ass sad playlist after I hit my bong n wanted to write based on how I felt. Srry it's sad lol.
Masterlist |
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As Y/N lay in bed, surrounded by the suffocating weight of her thoughts, she felt as if she were trapped. Depression wasn't just a feeling; it was a state of being, an all-encompassing darkness that clouded her mind and consumed her soul.
The disassociation was perhaps the most insidious aspect of it all. It was like watching her life unfold from behind a thick pane of glass, disconnected from the world around her. She went through the motions of her daily routine, but it felt hollow, as if she were merely a spectator in her own life like she was sleeping.
Numbness was her constant companion, a thick fog that dulled her senses and dulled the vibrant colors of the world around her. It was difficult to muster up any enthusiasm or joy when every emotion seemed to be buried beneath layers of apathy, she just felt lost, like she was suffocating.
Boredom was another relentless adversary, gnawing at her from the inside out. No matter what she did, nothing seemed to hold her interest for long. Hobbies that once brought her joy now felt like meaningless distractions, and even the simplest tasks felt like Herculean feats.
But perhaps the cruelest aspect of it all was the overwhelming loneliness that seemed to suffocate her at every turn. It wasn't just a lack of companionship; it was a profound sense of isolation, a feeling of being utterly and completely alone in the world.
Even when surrounded by friends and loved ones, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that she was nobody's person. It was as if she were standing on the outside looking in, watching as everyone else lived their lives while she remained stuck in place, unable to move forward.
And so, as she lay in bed, tears streaming down her cheeks, Y/N couldn't help but feel as if she were buried alive and clawing at the wood til her fingers bled.
The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the sun that shined through the curtains, much to Y/N's discomfort. It was a familiar scene, one that had become all too common in recent months, she didn't have the energy to shut the blinds.
Depression had become Y/N's unwanted companion, a shadow that followed her every step, always coming back even after she thought she got rid of it. Loneliness was its cruelest weapon, wrapping around her like a suffocating blanket, isolating her from the world.
She had tried to fight it, tried to push through the fog that clouded her mind, but tonight, it felt like an impossible task. Tears welled in her eyes as she stared blankly at the ceiling, feeling utterly lost and alone.
Unbeknownst to Y/N, her girlfriend Renee had sensed the shift in her demeanor. Renee had been on tour for the past few weeks, but even from miles away, she could feel when something was amiss with Y/N.
Tonight, as Renee finished her performance on stage, her thoughts were consumed by Y/N. Something didn't feel right, a nagging sense of worry gnawing at her heart. Ignoring the cheers of the crowd, Renee hurried back to her dressing room, her mind racing with concern.
Once backstage, Renee grabbed her phone, her fingers trembling as she dialed Y/N's number. It rang once, twice, before Y/N's voice echoed through the receiver, thick with emotion.
"Hey," Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Hey, love," Renee replied, her heart aching at the sound of Y/N's voice. "Is everything okay?"
Y/N hesitated, the lump in her throat making it difficult to speak. But Renee's presence, even over the phone, was a balm to her weary soul.
"I… I don't know," Y/N confessed, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I just… I feel so lost, Renee. Like I'm drowning in my own thoughts."
Renee's heart shattered at Y/N's words, the pain in her voice cutting through her like a knife. Without a second thought, she made a decision.
"Y/N, I'm coming home," Renee declared, her voice filled with determination. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
Y/N's breath caught in her throat at the sincerity in Renee's words. Despite the distance between them, Renee's love was a beacon of light in the darkness.
"Please hurry," Y/N whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.
"I will," Renee promised, her own tears mingling with Y/N's across the miles. "I love you, Y/N. Just hold on a little longer, okay?"
As they hung up, a spark of hope ignited within her chest. Even in her darkest moments, Renee was her guiding star, leading her back to the light.
The moment Renee stepped through the door, she could feel the heavy atmosphere weighing down the air. The dimly lit apartment seemed to echo with Y/N's silent struggle, and Renee's heart clenched at the sight.
Renee quickly made her way to the bedroom, where she found Y/N curled up under the blankets, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. Without a word, Renee slipped into bed beside her, wrapping her arms around Y/N and pulling her close.
Y/N melted into Renee's embrace, her body trembling with the weight of her emotions. Renee held her tightly, offering silent comfort as Y/N buried her face in Renee's chest, seeking solace in her warmth.
For a long moment, they lay there in silence, the only sound the steady rhythm of their breathing. But eventually, Y/N found the courage to speak, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm sorry, Renee," Y/N murmured, her words muffled against Renee's shirt. "I hate that you have to see me like this."
Renee brushed a gentle kiss against Y/N's forehead, her heart aching at the pain in her eyes.
"Don't apologize, love," Renee murmured, her voice tender. "You never have to apologize for how you feel. I'm here for you, always."
Y/N's breath hitched at Renee's words, the love and acceptance in her voice a balm to her wounded soul.
"I just… I don't know how to cope anymore," Y/N confessed, her voice breaking with emotion. "It feels like I'm drowning.."
Renee's heart clenched at the despair in Y/N's voice, but she refused to let it consume them. With a gentle hand, she tilted Y/N's chin up, meeting her gaze with unwavering determination.
"You're not alone in this, Y/N," Renee said firmly, her eyes brimming with love. "We'll get through this together, okay? I'll be right here by your side every step of the way."
Y/N nodded, a glimmer of hope sparking in her eyes as Renee's words washed over her like a lifeline.
"What if I never get better?" Y/N whispered, her voice laced with fear.
Renee's heart broke at the vulnerability in Y/N's words, shaking her head.
"We'll figure it out together," Renee promised, her voice shaky. "There are so many ways we can tackle this, whether it's therapy, medication, or finding what works for you. We'll take it one day at a time."
Y/N's shoulders sagged with relief at Renee's unwavering support, the weight of her burden suddenly feeling a little lighter.
"Thank you, Renee," Y/N whispered, tears shimmering in her eyes. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
Renee brushed a tender kiss against Y/N's lips, pouring all of her love and devotion into the gentle caress.
"You'll never have to find out," Renee promised, her voice filled with conviction. "I love you, Y/N. And I'm not going anywhere."
As Y/N lay in Renee's arms, her thoughts churned with a whirlwind of emotions. The weight of her depression bore down on her like a heavy anchor, dragging her deeper into the abyss of her own mind.
"Renee," Y/N's voice wavered, breaking the heavy silence that enveloped them. "I feel like I'm stuck. Like I'm trapped in this endless cycle of figuring it all out then knowing nothing again."
Renee's heart ached at the tremble in Y/N's voice, her grip tightening around Y/N's trembling form.
"I know, love," Renee murmured, her voice soft with understanding. "I'm here.."
Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she gazed up at Renee, her vulnerability laid bare for the world to see.
"But what if it's not enough?" Y/N whispered, her cracking ever so slightly as she spoke. "I feel like I'll always be this way. I never seem to get better, Renee."
Renee's heart shattered at the despair in Y/N's words, the fear of losing her consuming her from the inside out.
"You're not broken, Y/N," Renee insisted, her voice firm with conviction. "You're human. And humans are allowed to feel lost sometimes. But that doesn't mean you can't find your way back."
Y/N smiled sadly at Renee, trying to believe her words.
"I just… I feel like I'm losing everyone," Y/N confessed, her voice trembling with emotion. "And I'm so scared of being alone."
Renee's heart constricted at the raw honesty in Y/N's words, the pain of her loneliness echoing in her own soul.
"You're not alone, Y/N," Renee whispered, her voice laced with tenderness. "You're my person, and I'm yours. We'll navigate your darkness together, hand in hand, until we find our way back to the light."
Y/N's tears flowed freely now, cascading down her cheeks like a waterfall of emotion. But with Renee's unwavering love to anchor her, she felt a glimmer of hope amidst the storm.
"Thank you, Renee," Y/N murmured, her voice choked with gratitude. "For being my light in the darkness."
Renee pressed a gentle kiss against Y/N's forehead, pouring all of her love and devotion into the tender gesture.
"Always, love," Renee promised, her voice a whispered vow. "I'll always be here for you. No matter what."
As the weight of their shared emotions began to ease, exhaustion swept over Y/N like a gentle tide, pulling her into the embrace of sleep. Renee held her close, their bodies entwined in a comforting embrace.
In the quiet of the night, as the world outside fell into a hushed slumber, Renee pressed a tender kiss to Y/N's temple, her lips lingering against the warmth of her skin.
"Sleep now, my love," Renee whispered, her voice a soft murmur in the darkness. "And remember, don't kill the flowers."
Y/N watched Renee sleepily, hooded eyes silently agreeing with her words. Sleep soon claimed her, pulling her into its gentle embrace.
And as they drifted into dreams, the promise of a new day.
𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴.
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bvnniz · 3 months
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Heyy!! Could i request Vox x Bunny x Val>_< if u dont mind you dont have to do thiss butt what if vam or vox were abt to eat bunny out and see she has sh scars on her innert high. What would they do? Would they care or ignore it
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so do we all love bunny x voxval as much as me ??? ( i will literally do any voxval x bunny req )
𝜗𝜚 warnings: SMUT mentions, 18+, self harm, vox is referred to as daddy, then valentino as papi, comfort
“ughhhhh are you guys done with paperwork yet!” you groaned as you shifted your body so you were laying across the two rather than sitting on valentino’s lap. valentino lets out a chuckle “little conejita need attention?” you just rolled your eyes, staring up at vox who was the one who would usually give you anything you wanted when you stared up at him with those doe eyes of yours, he always said you didn’t need hypnotism like him or valentino’s smoke to get your way, your eyes were your own hypnotism.
“daddyyyyyy” valentino shook his head before pushing your legs off of him, you immediately moved to sit on vox’s lap grinding yourself down on his thigh. “pleaseee.” he put his paperwork to the side before sighing. “give me one good reason.”
you thought for a second before smiling “because i’m wearing a cute skirt with tights under and papi always says my skirts look even cuter on the ground and that you both love ripping holes in my tights” vox smiled at you before shaking his head. “you’re not wrong princess.”
valentino smiled, knowing full well you had won. “c’mere baby.” you got off vox’s lap and immediately stood in front of valentino. “such a pretty little conejita.” he kissed your head before picking you up and putting you over his shoulder, walking towards the shared bedroom, smacking your ass on the way which made a giggle come out of you.
vox had followed behind the two of you, mostly worried about the fact valentino has dropped you before due to carrying you like this and he wasn’t planning on getting yelled at by you during the fit you would have if you were dropped.
valentino tossed you on the bed, a giggle coming out of you as you bounced up. vox shook his head while letting out a chuckle. “someone’s in a really good mood today.” he kissed your head before sitting behind you and starting to pull your tights off of you, your clear sign that it was gonna be a long night.
valentino immediately placed himself between your thighs, kissing from your knee up. although he halted when he got to your upper thighs. you immediately realizing what you forgot about and pulling your legs under yourself so you were sitting on them. “conejita.” you turned to vox trying to climb onto his lap, terrified of the look valentino was giving you, it was the look you had only seen from him with his workers.
he grabbed your foot pulling you back towards him. “vox.” he had just been staring at the two of you confused, before moving from behind you and looking at what valentino had been staring at, that’s when he saw it, cuts littered around your inner thighs, some old but some that couldn’t be older than a couple days.
“princess” vox said softly, his heart practically being ripped out as he tried counting how many cuts there were. he looked at your face seeing those doe eyes he loved so much practically pouring tears out.
he pulled you off the bed before kneeling to your height and pulling you into a hug. “we’re not mad at you princess, i promise you.” he held his pinky out to you, you immediately wrapping your own around his. “i’m not gonna make you talk about it now, but we are gonna need a discussion about this, if it’s either with me or papi. does that sound fair so far?” you nodded “yes daddy.”
“along with this all we’re gonna start checking on you making sure there’s no cuts on your body daily, the ones currently there we’re gonna be fine with but if there’s any new tomorrow we’re gonna have to stop giving you so much freedom, you’ll probably be with daddy or me more often, if that isn’t fair to you, you can say so, okay princesa?” valentino’s face had softened him giving you a smile to try and calm you down.
“no papi.” both of their eyes widened, usually you always said yes to what they said, it wasn’t that you couldn’t think or live for yourself but you preferred that way of them telling you how your life would go.
“what don’t you like princesa?” he asked pulling your head off of vox so you had to look at him “wanna be with you more.” he nodded, finally crouching down to your height. “freedom too much for you conejita? you upset you don’t have enough time with daddy & papi?” you nodded again, vox holding you a little tighter at that. “is it you don’t have enough time with papi or me, princess?” you shook your head. “tell me what you need princess, i need you to use your words.”
“just wanna be with daddy or papi always.” he nodded before kissing your head. “how about every other day you come to my office then the days you aren’t with me you’re at the studio?” you nodded and vox smiled down at you. “you’re still gonna get checked tho, we gotta make sure our little princess is safe and unharmed at all times.”
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xcherryerim · 5 months
Text
A Helping Hand
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Touch starved Mike x gn!reader | wc: 2.4k
“It will take a while for the scars in my heart to heal, that’s what I believed. At some point, I am in your embrace. You touch my heart baby” — Touch by Miss A
SMUT ONE SHOT | MDNI | +18 ONLY
warning: Friends to lovers | Mike is having an existential crisis | Handjob | Oral sex (only Mike) | Facial | Shower sex | porn without (much) plot | Calling mike a “good boy” | angst
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In the warm lit bathroom, illuminated only by a single soft glow of the cheap lightbulb, Mike sat on a plastic chair, his broken leg propped up on a stack of towels. The lukewarm water cascaded over his body, mingling with the salty tears that traced down his pale cheeks.
His eyes, red-rimmed and glistening, pleaded with yours as he whispered, "Please touch me."
For the past few weeks, you'd been there for Mike whenever he needed you. He was once a self-sufficient man who refused help from others, but now that his leg was momentarily immobilized, he found himself at the mercy of those around him. His job not compensating for his leave, coupled with the overwhelming weight of daily struggles, had left him feeling trapped and helpless.
The realization that his life had spiraled out of control weighed heavily on his shoulders. It was one thing to acknowledge the despair, but quite another to confront it head-on with nothing but time on his hands. In this cramped bathroom, surrounded by tiled walls, he felt even smaller, more isolated than ever.
With tenderness and care, you stepped into the shower stall, succumbing to the task of helping Mike bathe despite the challenges posed by his injured leg. As the warm water poured down upon both of you, you began to wash his hair with the specialized shampoo and conditioner, working the suds through his locks with gentle precision.
When you moved onto his back, your fingertips brushed over his tense muscles, tracing the web of pain etched into his skin. Each stroke, each caress seemed to pull at the threads of his empty heart, finally, he couldn't contain it any longer when you stood in front of him, trying to wash his neck and chest. His fragile facade cracked as tears formed into his honey soulless eyes.
Looking at his reddened eyes and the sniffling sounds emanating from his nose, concern washed over you. "Mike, are you alright?" you inquired, worry lacing your words.
"Please touch me," he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just… touch me. Please."
Your heart ached for him, seeing him like this - broken, vulnerable, and begging for human connection. His erection strained against the fabric of his shorts, an unmistakable sign of his need for intimacy.
“I know I'm asking too much, I know I've been a burden with all the favors you've done for me these past few days, but I just—" Mike hesitated, his voice breaking as he struggled to find the right words.
His admission hung in the air between you, thick with guilt and the weight of his burgeoning dependency on your kindness.
With a deep, shuddering breath, he continued, "I just can't take this loneliness any longer."
His confession struck you like a punch to the gut, his vulnerability laying bare the emotional toll his situation had taken on him. You could see the fear lurking in his eyes, the desperate plea for understanding and support. And though a part of you yearned to provide the comfort he sought, you also knew that giving in would only complicate matters further.
Instead, you opted for a different approach, seeking to ease his pain in words rather than touch.
"Mike, I understand how hard this must be for you," you said softly. "But you're not alone, and we'll get through it together. I promise."
Your hand lingered on his shoulder, a tentative gesture of solidarity, offering the smallest measure of comfort without breaching the boundaries of your friendship.
Despite the distance you maintained, you could feel the tension in his frame, the unraveling of his composure under the strain of his emotions.
"You don't find me attractive?" he asked, his voice strained as if the very thought pained him. Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to spill over as he searched your face for answers. "I... I didn't mean to push you, I just..."
Swallowing hard, you replied softly, "It's not that, Mike. It's just... your request would change things between us. Our friendship would never be the same."
Defeat washed over his features, and he shifted his gaze downward, fixating on his length before quickly looking away in embarrassment. "I just want to feel wanted, desired, useful to someone... anything..." he whispered, the depth of his anguish echoing in every word.
"It could be just once," Mike suggested, grasping at any sliver of hope he could find. His hopeful eyes locked onto yours, their pleading depths reflecting the faint light from the bathroom fixture.
His grip on your hand tightened, a silent prayer that you'd consider his desperate proposal. The air grew heavier with his unspoken desires, the weight of his needs bearing down upon both of you in the confined space.
“Our secret.”
You stood there, torn between compassion and conviction, struggling to reconcile the gravity of the situation. It was impossible to ignore the sincerity in his gaze, the raw need for human connection that seemed to emanate from him. Yet, you couldn't shake the sense that giving in would irreparably alter the course of your relationship.
Finally, you managed to find your voice, your tone heavy with uncertainty as you answered, "Mike, I don't think it's a good idea. This isn't something we can undo or ignore later.” Uncertainty lacing your words.
But his grasp on your hand tightened, his pleading gaze never wavering. "I don't want to ignore it. I want you, I truly do. Please, just do this for me." His fingers trailed along your palm, his touch lingering on your skin as he guided it towards his trembling form. When his hand paused at his pelvis, you felt the heat radiating from him, a testament to the turmoil within.
Staring into your eyes, he implored you once more, his voice quivering with the weight of his longing. You could see the torment reflected in his pupils, the raw honesty of his need. And yet, despite the yearning, you knew that giving in would be crossing a line neither of you could return from.
Yet you found yourself drawn to the sight before you: his waterlogged body, the foggy atmosphere, and the haunting desperation in his eyes.
With a shaky breath, you gave in, nodding reluctantly in agreement with his plea. "But, this never happened," you insisted, attempting to impose some semblance of control over the situation.
Slowly, your hand descended to meet his base, the warmth of his skin contrasting with the dampness of the surroundings. Each nerve in your body screamed at you to stop, urging you to reconsider the implications of your actions. But the anguish in his eyes pulled you forward, forcing you to grapple with the reality of his suffering.
Biting your lip, you closed your eyes, swallowing hard as you began to move your hand, knowing full well that this moment would forever change the course of your lives. The steamy air seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the outcome of your decision as the two of you were in the shower, bound by a secret neither of you could escape.
Mike nodded numbly, a silent agreement between you both as he attempted to stifle the rising cries of pleasure. "Thank you," he whispered, his gratitude overshadowed by the raw emotion surging through him.
Watching your hand move delicately over him, he couldn't help but feel the intense mix of shame and ecstasy coursing through his veins.
You steeled yourself against the stirrings of guilt, focusing solely on the task at hand. The water continued to pour over you both, serving as a constant reminder of the fragility of your situation.
As Mike's breath hitched and his eyes rolled back in bliss, you found yourself lost in the dichotomy of his emotions: the gratitude, the shame, and the overwhelming need for connection.
You opened your eyes, catching sight of Mike biting down on his fist, a futile attempt to silence his cries of pleasure. A small, involuntary chuckle escaped you, the sound carrying a hint of tension.
“You can make sounds, it's okay," you reassured him, a tender smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Closing your eyes once more, you hoped that the vivid imagery of their current predicament wouldn't scar your memories.
But the sight of Mike's flushed skin, his eyes tight shut in ecstasy, and the pink length curved around your hand was enough to dispel any remaining reservations. To your surprise, your grip tightened around him, your movements becoming more assured, more passionate. The water continued to fall, oblivious to the shift in dynamics between you both.
"Fuck!" Mike groaned, gripping your wrist and urging you to increase your pace. His gratitude shone brightly in his eyes as he spoke. "Thank you."
Nodding in agreement, you positioned yourself between his legs, the steamy environment providing little privacy in this intimate encounter.
Mike's head shook slightly, his eyes cast downward in a display of vulnerability. "You don't have to do this, It's okay." His voice trembled, tinged with shyness.
A smirk played across your lips. "Be a good boy and take what I give you," you instructed playfully, wrapping your hand around him once more. Your tongue danced around his tip, drawing a startled whimper from him.
"I'll be a good boy! I'll be a good boy!" he cried out, his words punctuated by gasps of pleasure.
His moans filled the bathroom, a testament to the newfound intimacy that had consumed you.
As you continued, the boundaries between friends and lovers blurred, leaving no room for regret or hesitation. Every touch, every movement was driven by an unspoken understanding, born of necessity and longing.
This time, you engulfed him fully, relishing in the way his body shuddered under your touch. It seemed as if he teetered on the edge of release, his cries growing louder and more fervent.
His hand reached back, gently guiding your head to him, a combination of shyness and desperation etched in his expression. Over time, his grip tightened, urging you to accept more of him, hungry for the sensation.
Your heart raced, the consequences of your actions weighing heavily on your mind. But the hunger in his eyes, the pleading earnestness in his touch, made it difficult to resist.
"You take me so good..." Mike murmured, locking gazes with you as he succumbed further to his desire. His appreciation was palpable, the praise you offered striking a chord in his soul.
In response, you slowed your movements, meeting his eyes as you whispered, "And you feel so good in my mouth." The compliment sparked a blush and a small, grateful smile on his face. Praise – an elixir for his wounded heart.
The water continued to rain down on you both, rendering the bathroom a sacred chamber of vulnerable admissions and simmering passions. In this cramped space, the two of you were stripped bare, submerged in a maelstrom of shifting emotions and escalating pleasures. The boundary between friend and lover had vanished, replaced by a new territory where your instincts governed your actions.
Mike's breathing quickened, the anticipation of release building within him. And though you knew this moment was fraught with consequence, there was an undeniable pull toward the ecstasy that lay just beyond the horizon.
"Can I...?" Mike stammered, his voice trembling and hoarse. After collecting himself, he asked hesitantly, "Can I come on your face or, your body?"
"You're close?" you inquired, unable to hide the curiosity from your tone.
"Yeah, I couldn't last that long with you... you know," he admitted, flustered. Taking a deep breath, he hastily added, "Sorry, I wanted to last longer." Embarrassment colored his features, but his eyes beseeched you to understand.
Mike's apology lingered in the air, but you dismissed it with a gentle wave of your hand, recognizing the power of your connection. Despite the enormity of what was happening between you, the bond that once existed seemed to transform, adapting to the new landscape of emotions and desires.
His release drew near, every twitch and moan drawing you closer to the precipice. The water continued to pour, its relentless cadence echoing the intensity of the situation. And while the implications of your actions weighed heavily on your mind, the thrall of the present moment beckoned you, the two of you locked in an intricate dance of surrender and acceptance.
Finally, Mike released a strained cry, using the last of his strength to guide his release onto your face. It painted your skin, marking you with the evidence of his passion, only to be washed away by the endless stream of water. In that brief moment of shared ecstasy, the room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the outcome.
Then, without warning, Mike hauled you in for a kiss – a desperate, yearning embrace that had years of suppressed feelings woven into it. His lips pressed against yours, a testament to the depth of your connection. The water continued its steady descent, but you barely noticed as you were consumed by the weight of the moment.
As the echo of Mike's cry faded, you found yourselves frozen in the aftermath, clinging to each other like shipwrecked sailors finding solid ground. The reality of your actions bore down on you, a stark reminder of the journey you had just embarked upon. Yet amid the chaos, there was a strange sense of calm, the two of you buoyed by the shared experience that would forever bind you together.
Mike reached for the loofah hanging on the wall, extending it to you between gasps for air.
"You didn't do my back right," he panted, half-joking.
Rolling your eyes, you rose to your feet, a soft chuckle escaping you. "Asshole," you muttered, taking the loofah and moving behind him. As you carefully scrubbed his back, you couldn't help but study the contours, each mole a tiny piece of art etched onto his skin.
"We seriously need to find you a partner or a sneaky link," you sighed, the gravity of your recent exchange weighing heavily on your mind.
"Or maybe a friend with benefits?" Mike countered, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.
You considered his suggestion briefly, a faint smile playing on your lips. "Maybe," you agreed, the idea hovering between laughter and contemplation.
The water continued to flow, washing away the remnants of your uncertainty and hesitation. The room felt charged with the knowledge of what had transpired, yet there was a strange comfort in the weight of it all. Your hands moved gently over his back, the loofah a buffer between the new reality and the old normalcy.
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my dumbass forgot the taglist bro: @freak-accident419 @joshhutchersonsgf @valreanakuroo @cassiecasluciluce @jhutchismyl0verb0y
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