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matrixbearer2024 · 4 months

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I'm On Your Screens.

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

Vox's POV of "Get Off My Screen!"

A/N: This is the silly TV man's POV on what I had written earlier since it was mainly just how dear reader saw everything. I wanted to do this before working on the Vox x Reader requests so I could do some practice on this dude's character hahaha. Also my goodness Tumblr you are THIRSTY for this man! Aaaaah I love it anyway so keep those ideas coming people!

Vox is a busy man, dealing with the other two Vees' chaos alongside his company kept his hands full daily.

Either always irate out of his mind or even grumpy because of it.

Velvette called him again because of Valentino making a bloody mess.

Oh great, this shit AGAIN-

Upon further inspection, the moth overlord was pretty much throwing another pissy tantrum because something didn't go his way.

Something about one of his whores stepping out of line or whatever?

Vox wasn't exactly listening.

Throughout that entire fit, Vox had half a mind to tell Valentino to just suck it up.

Sometimes shit goes wayside, it is what it is.

He was already exhausted mentally and physically by the time he dragged himself back into his monitor room.

Plopping himself back down on his chair, Vox let out a tired sigh and just stared at the many screens around him.

So imagine his surprise when he saw a random screen just crackle and fizz like an old CRT booting up.

Hell had done away with those darn things years ago-

He even made sure of it!

He swiveled his chair around to look closer at the fuzzy image that had appeared.

The static filter over the picture was definitely reminicent of an older TV screen.

He could barely make out a group of figures hunched over... something?

Vox tried to travel through the screen, as he could with the many many others in the room around him-

"FUCKING-! OUCH?!"

Only for it to rebound back.

Vox didn't know whether to be confused or surprised that he managed to zap himself.

HimSELF.

Besides that, a random prompt appeared on the screen.

What kind of haunted bullshit was this?

"What's your name?"

Okay, someone had to be pulling a prank on him.

Despite being skeptical, he decided to humor this weird situation.

"Okay-? The keyboard doesn't work. How am I supposed to use this thing? Just write on the screen?"

Despite his sarcastic remark to no one in particular, yes.

That was in fact what he had to do.

Which Vox found out pretty soon, and he felt a little idiotic that it wasn't the first thing he tried.

He had to squint to kind of understand what was happening on the other side of the screen.

He'd written his name on the screen aaaaand-

Great, absolutely nothing happened.

Someone had to be fucking with him.

There wasn't even any audio so he couldn't even use that for hints.

The group he'd been watching just all of a sudden jumped up and pointed towards him.

Or at least that's what it looks like.

Could they see him?

He wasn't even sure what happened next, the group somewhat hastily moved out of his sight.

Oh whatever.

Vox was about to just forget about the weirdness of the situation if something else hadn't popped up on an adjacent screen.

A phone homepage.

What the hell was that doing on his screens?

It wasn't like there was anyone in particular he was interested enough to look through their stuff.

Ohhhh he could interact with it this time.

Dumb fucking hackers could only zap him once, HA!

The screen with the TV filter quickly shut off when he interacted with the phone menu however.

He should really check his mainframe security and firewalls after this-

It took him no time at all to rummage away and scrounge up whatever he could from the phone.

Might as well do away with the tacky wallpaper while he's at it-

"Y/N huh?"

He saw your photos as well, only becoming more and more confused with the situation.

Were you a living human???

The camera app was unresponsive to his attempts at interacting with it.

So was the recording app...

Guess he couldn't use it to spy this time.

Before long, the phone was also being interacted with.

Vox could only guess it was you.

"Oh great- yeah, just go back to using the shitty wallpaper that I switched out on PURPOSE."

It didn't take much longer before Vox noticed other nearby screens popping up with electronic screens similar to this one.

He totally switched back the wallpaper before messing with the other stuff-

It was always the same, the cameras wouldn't work and neither would the microphones.

For a technology overlord, Vox found himself slightly irritated by how limited his actions were.

wtf was he even supposed to do with this?

Once he retired for the night, he wondered if all of this would just go away come morning.

Spoiler alert: It didn't.

Though the tacky wallpaper was back again.

Hm... this could be fun.

This went on for a few days, he and you were switching the wallpapers back and forth.

It was either his face or whatever random shit you'd change it with.

Sometimes Vox would just let you have some peace before switching it back after an hour.

He could only imagine how irritated you were.

Too bad he couldn't hear or see it.

But seeing you constantly battle with him for the wallpaper priority was entertaining enough.

Vox didn't bother with any of your other files or anything else at the moment.

He didn't see the point in doing so yet anyway.

Of course that was until the notepad opened.

"I know you're in there. Stop messing with me."

He chuckled seeing you type out the message, guess the jig was up.

But he wasn't going to stop this game you both were playing just yet.

"Oh I know, you're just fun to mess with doll."

Little did Vox know that his snarky response would've been the start to an... odd companionship to say the least.

Both of you exchanged messages over the months.

Either idle talk or just conversation about anything under the sun.

If something bothered him at work, most likely he'd leave a rant on your notepad for you to find.

Similarly, if you've had a shitty day- he'd quickly know.

"You're obsessed with this Alastor guy huh?"

"No, he's just an old timey prick who keeps fucking up my stuff."

"You're obsessed."

"Fuck you. >:/"

Interacting with you ended up taking more of his free time and the other Vees would be confused why he spent so much more time in his monitor room.

Vox just brushed them off and rolled his eyes.

He wasn't attached.

He didn't actually care for you did he?

Yeah no absolutely not-

There was a point Vox did get bored enough to look into your files though.

He spent a good hour sorting through stuff while you got work done.

"You should really label your files better."

"It's not that bad."

"Really? After I spent a good while organizing and managing your shit because of some randomly named ones? A goddamn 'thank you' would've been nice."

"Random? I don't do random."

"Oh yeah? What's this one? 'Yeetus' or this one- 'Bababooey'?! Hell, this one is just keysmash!"

"Oh shut up, I still find my things."

"HOW????"

Vox proceeded to rant and bitch about it for another hour-

Sometimes when he just wanted to fuck with you, he'd steal control of the cursor.

It was purely just to spite you.

Your notepad rants afterwards kept him entertained.

He was slightly proud that he beat your wallpaper war.

Or so you dubbed it.

Now his grin was practically a permanent plaster on your devices.

Even so, when he wasn't busy Vox sometimes found himself looking over at your work.

"How is your grammar this shitty?"

"We have grammarly for that, I don't really care much."

"Grammar- what??"

Inadvertently he ended up being your spellchecker every so often.

He only realized how much help he'd been giving once you mentioned in passing that your English professor bumped up your grade.

Why?

Because your writing was just better.

Correction-

Vox's writing was better.

He wouldn't let you hear the end of it for weeks.

You knew it was a mistake telling him.

He didn't even stop his trolling there.

Once he figured out how to overload your computer's memory, it was lag central.

Then he started messing with the display and aspect ratio, making visual glitches while he pulled up random tabs or applications you needed to fight him to close.

"I'm in class you jackass! We can do this when I get home!"

"Nope, I don't think I will. >:3"

He thought he was doing you a favor giving your devices some custom flair as well.

"Are these emojis of you?"

"Yeah, I thought you'd enjoy them."

"Huh, cool."

He thought he was doing great as your companion, until you downloaded that thing.

What in Lucifer's name was it even?

Another tiny human in your desktop?

"What the fuck is that."

"My new desktop companion, do you like it?"

Vox didn't even bother replying, watching it move around and emote for a hot minute while his eye twitched.

Were you trying to piss him off?

Eventually he took his frustration out on it with the cursor to the best of his ability.

Even if it only irritated him more that it kept getting back up unharmed.

Fucking hell, if you wanted a visual desktop companion you could have just ASKED.

Even if he stayed up a few extra hours to work on it, Vox felt like it was worth it.

He was better than that stupid little companion thing you downloaded.

"Did you upgrade my desktop pet by any chance?"

"Why? Do you not like it?"

"Nah, it's actually pretty cute. Thanks."

Vox couldn't bring himself to reply to that.

He was not fucking CUTE!

It totally flew over his head that you called it a desktop "pet".

Depending on his mood, he would use the small thing to emote or just keep you entertained.

At least you could sort of see him.

Even when he couldn't see you.

However, Vox was still Vox and he couldn't help himself to a little mischief here and there.

You both met by sheer coincidence from a weird situation.

Still, the tech overlord couldn't help but be just slightly glad it happened to him.

If Vox had to actually be honest, you weren't all rainbows and sparkles.

You could be a total bitch if you wanted to.

Heh, maybe there'd be a chance he'll finally meet you down here.

Guess he'll just have to wait and see until then.

#hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x you #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox #he's a little shit #a charming little shit tho #I need to write more of this fool #Get Off My Screen Series

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thatfreshi · 9 months

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He's Not Sick, Is He? (Astarion x reader)

I had this thought the other day, and am interested to explore it. The way Astarion describes how he feels after Cazador's death as 'numb,' I have a feeling he would slip into a bout of depression for a while after, unsure of what to do now, unsure of what his purpose is now that Cazador is gone. Might make a resolved part two of this.

tw - ed behaviors, self-harm, gore, drinking

Recommended Song: Swingin Party - Lorde

You and Astarion stayed at a nearby inn the weeks after Cazador's demise. The innkeeper let the two of you stay as long as you needed, as a way of saying thanks for dealing with one of the worst vermin in the city. With everything handled, the Absolute gone, the mind flayers off your minds, there was nothing left to do. You remember that evening, when you two stumbled into the inn room, feeling as if your bodies were going to fall apart. Astarion though, he felt it in a way that was indescribable. He expected there to be this weight off his shoulders, for the air to suddenly feel clearer, and yet there was nothing.

When you sat on the edge of the bed to start taking off your blood-stained clothes, he simply went to the washroom without a word, practically slamming the door. You were no stranger to the occasional vampiric hissy-fit, but this was far from that. The energy he was radiating, it hurt, got caught in your throat like choking on tears.

As soon as the door closed, he tried to hold back tears. He was alone now, but if he wasn't careful you'd hear him, crying like a baby after doing the only thing he's ever wanted to. Who frees themselves and sobs about it? No, he shouldn't feel this way, not empty and pathetic. Instead of trying to wash up, Astarion simply slipped back against the door, and sat there in whatever this feeling was. You choose not to disturb him, sure that he just needs some time to himself. You fall asleep eventually. He doesn't come to bed for hours.

The next day, you wake up before him, quite the odd occurrence. You decide not to wake him, knowing he's exhausted. He deserves some restful sleep. But his sleep is in fact not restful. It's light, serving almost no purpose. His mind is still far too active, never truly drifting into anything peaceful. Your shuffling around the room wakes him quite easily. When you hear him move around in the sheets, you turn quickly.

"I'm sorry my love, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's alright."

He says nothing else, and you move to sit on the bed as he lies there.

"How are you feeling?"

Astarion isn't quite sure how to respond. It feels like there's this void in his chest, perhaps his entire torso. Usually he would love waking up to you, make some quip about how gorgeous you are despite the bedhead, but nothing comes.

"Tired."

Odd. He only has to sleep for a couple of hours, and yet he's tired? You brush it off, thinking that perhaps it just wasn't good sleep.

"That's alright. Do you need anything? A drink?"

"No, I think I'm just going to sit here a while longer."

He's barely moved since he awoke.

"Aster, you haven't had any blood since the day before Cazador's. You need something, especially after all of that energy you used up."

The vampire turns in the sheets, looking away from you, wrapping himself in the blanket.

"I'll be alright."

"Nonsense, you need-"

"I'm fine. Just tired, that's all Tav."

His words wound you, but you try not to take it personally.

"Alright. I'll give you some space."

Steps out the door, the light closing of the entrance. Astarion still in the sheets, wearing the same blood-covered clothes from yesterday. He begins to weep again, waiting just long enough that he knows you've gone downstairs.

You're met with the rest of your companions downstairs, who are all glad to see you.

"Well well, if it isn't Tav. Is the vampiric hero of the realm joining us for breakfast?"

Gale is in quite a good mood, happy to be alive and well.

"No he... he just needs to rest a little longer."

You sound unsure of yourself, but they don't question it. You understand Astarion better than any of them, and yet you were stumped by his behavior. He's never been this short with you.

"I don't blame him. I barely got up this morning as well."

Shadowheart smiles, drinking a fresh cup of tea.

"Well, now that we're all freed of the Absolute and our other various problems, where are we all headed?"

Karlach has been waiting for this moment, excited to start living a life outside of the terror that was the cultists. The group all starts talking about how they'll probably stay in the city, just in case Baldur's Gate ever needs them again. Gale talks about how he'll have to move everything from his tower in Waterdeep, and many of your companions offer to help with the move.

"What about you and Astarion? I'm sure you two lovebirds have some big plans now that he's free."

Of course, Karlach meant it kindly, but you were stumped. What would the two of you do now?

"We haven't really had time to talk about it. I'm sure we'll come up with something soon."

She thankfully takes the answer at face value. After a hour or so of chatting, you take your leave, heading back to your room. You softly knock, letting Astarion know you're coming in. He hasn't moved, but he hasn't slept either. You don't say anything, instead you move to lie next to him, wrapping your arms around him. Usually your touch is electrifying, so welcome, but he can barely feel it. Your soft fingers, the embrace of your arms, your breath on his shoulder, it all means nothing. Why does it mean nothing?

"You really should feed soon Astarion."

He says nothing, simply wondering if he'll feel like this forever. Was it a final curse that Cazador bestowed?

"I... I don't feel like it. I don't really feel like doing anything."

"I know my love, but you at least need some blood."

"It can wait. Maybe tomorrow."

Tomorrow comes, and the day after, and many days after that. The two of you stay at the inn, barely having spoken about anything. You try to insist to your friends that he's sick, which wouldn't be entirely incorrect.

"Should I come see him?"

"No, no need Shadowheart. It's just a bad cold, it'll pass soon enough."

One by one, your companions make their way out of the inn, and Gale is the last one to stay. One evening, you're at the bar downstairs, and Gale comes to drink with you.

"This seat taken?"

"No, just me."

You take a long swig of whatever the barkeep poured in your cup. He situates himself on the stool beside you, motioning for a glass a wine.

"Tav... he's not sick, is he?"

You shake for a moment, tears start forming. It takes all of your energy to speak a single word.

"No."

Silence.

"No he... he's barely done anything since we got back. We barely talk. He hasn't had any blood Gale I- I'm really scared."

He takes a somber sip of his wine.

"I know you care about his privacy, understandably, but why wouldn't you tell us?"

You try to take another sip of your drink, but shake too much.

"Because I'm afraid it's my fault. That maybe by stopping the ritual, I somehow did this to him."

Gale takes one of your shaking hands. You're not used to warm touch.

"You didn't do anything wrong. We both know he would've become a monster if he went through with that godforsaken ritual. Have you considered that he's just feeling a little lost? After all, this is all he's wanted for centuries, to see his master fall."

You try to dry your tears.

"Yes, of course, I knew he'd be emotional... but this? I've never seen him like this.

"It will pass Tav, you just have to be there for him."

"How am I supposed to be there for him when he barely even talks to me? I keep trying, trying to tell him that it's alright, that I'm here, but it doesn't help. He won't even drink from me."

"Perhaps there's nothing you can do. He might just need time."

You manage to finish your drink.

"What if he never gets better?'

Gale doesn't meet your eyes, taking yet another sip.

"I know I'm the optimist amongst us, but we just have to hope. All we can do is hope."

You order another drink, and the two of you drink in silence for a while, until eventually he retires to his room.

"I leave for Waterdeep tomorrow, to go get my things, but I'll be back soon enough. Send a pigeon if you need me?"

You nod, a somber smile on your face.

"Thank you Gale. Best of luck in your travels."

You stay frozen at the bar for a while, not wanting to go back to the room, not wanting to face your lover fading away. He refuses to leave, even when your companions left the inn, he refused to say goodbye. When you do decide to come back, you softly knock, as always. He's strewn about in the sheets, reading some tome he's read a million times before. You come sit on the floor by the edge of the bed. He doesn't seem to notice you at first, eyes moving slowly across words he already knows. Just something to do, something easy, something that doesn't make his body feel like a bag of bricks when he thinks about it.

"Do you think you're ready to feed yet?"

Astarion simply shakes his head.

"Please my love, please. I know it's hard right now, but please just try."

"I don't know, I just... I don't think I can."

You sigh, holding back tears, streams still wet on your face from the bar. Instead of pleading with him, you grab a nearby bottle and your knife, taking them both to the washroom. You slice clean down your arm, wincing at the pain of the blade. You haven't sharpened it in a while, leaving jagged lines down your forearm. He hears you, but can't bring himself to say anything, simply feeling guilty. You take the mouth of the bottle to your arm, letting the blood drip into the glass. It burns, you didn't even think of cleaning the blade beforehand. You let it bleed though, until the bottle is full. You grit your teeth as you clean the wound, wrapping it in some spare bandage, fully knowing it will leave an ugly scar. When you leave the washroom, you put the bottle on the nightstand nearest to Astarion.

"There. For whenever you're ready."

And with that, you leave again, slowly closing the door, your arm throbbing in pain. He looks at the bottle, knowing what you've done, and he tears up again, something he hasn't managed to do in front of you all this time. You're frustrated, and you don't know with who, but it makes you sick to your stomach. It's as if the life has been drained from him, like he'll never be the same. You leave the inn, and walk for a long time, wasting the hours of the night crying as you drift to wherever. You get a few odd looks, but no one dares stop to ask why you're crying in the middle of the street this late. At some point, your feet stop carrying you, and you sit against the rock in some alley, hugging your knees, fully sobbing into the fabric of your pants. You're scared, scared to go back, scared to see the bottle still full on the table. For a moment, just a moment, you think what would happen if you left him there, if you disappeared. Guilt overwhelms you, causing the tears to fall faster. No, you have to go back, but not now. Not now, but soon. You silently hope soon doesn't come too fast, and you feel horrible for it. But for now, you have a couple hours in this dark alley, a couple hours before you feel the need to check on him again. And you begin sobbing again, knowing that nothing will have changed when dawn comes.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #angst

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tkaulitzlvr · 7 months

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hii I absolutely adore ur writing and I was wondering if maybe you could write something where like tom attempts to do no nut November but fails and it ends with smut??? Thank youuu💗

CAN’T RESIST - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: wierdly, tom is determined to get through the entire month of november with zero sex, having failed within the first few days for the past five years you have been together. you have other ideas, focused on getting him to crack, becoming desperate yourself.

content: smut

a/n: omg i loveeee this idea thanku sm for the request!! the way u sent this at like the start of november and i’m only just posting it i’m so sorry - i’ve had like the first paragraph written for a couple weeks😭also tom would def fail nnn on november 1st at 00:01am he is not lasting a second…

“oh my god.” tom pants, pulling out of me and climbing off of my limp frame, rolling to lay beside me, his chest heaving up and down as beads of sweat line the soft skin. “don’t know how i’m gonna last a whole month without this schatz.”

his confession doesn’t come as a surprise, in fact it is the exact opposite. tom is the horniest person i have ever met, and usually, he can’t go a day without sex - whether it be something rushed and desperate in public, or a long night of raw passion between the sheets, he can’t live without sex, which is why i am so surprised that he is attempting to go through with this whole ‘no nut november’ bullshit. he won’t last a second, and deep down i think he knows that too. though after the hours that he has spent inside of me, deciding to use the entirety of today - october 31st, the day before he had to give up his uncontrollable desires - fucking me just about anywhere he could, stating that it will ‘make up for the lost time’ and ‘make it a little easier for him’, i don’t see how he could even have the energy to do anything remotely sexual for the next month, his body spent and exhausted as it collapses beside me.

“i can’t believe you’re actually doing this.” a small giggle leaves my lips amidst the shaky breaths, hands pulling the sheets upward and over my naked body before snuggling into his frame, wrapping my arm loosely across his chest. “you know that you won’t even last a day, right?”

“this means no sex for you too you know.” his eyebrow raises, eyes tiredly meeting mine with a hint of mischief, thinking that he has caught me out, though he doesn’t realise that i can handle my needs in other ways, it is him that is totally restricted.

“i don’t need your help to cum baby. cute of you to assume i do.” i smirk, kissing his cheek lazily before rolling out of bed, grabbing my panties from the soft carpet, sensing his eyes burning into me from behind. i pay no attention, flashing him a teasing smile as a reminder that i have won, slowly walking into the bathroom to freshen up, his own steps soon following.

“the fuck do you mean you don’t need my help? i can still help you cum, i just can’t fuck you, which don’t get me wrong is the worst part, but nothing says that i can’t touch you. you know i’ll go insane if i can’t even do that.” he already sounds frustrated, a small smile tugging along my lips at the realisation that he really won’t last two seconds, his desperation embarrassingly clear despite the challenge not even starting yet.

“we’ll see. you just focus on getting yourself through this dumb challenge of yours baby.” i chuckle, that same knowing grin on my face once i palm him through his boxers, his mouth falling open at the sensation. though it doesn’t last long, my hand pulling away firmly to adjust the straps of my bra as i put it back on, leaving tom shocked as i walk away, the realisation that i don’t intend to make this easy for him soon becoming real.

and i stick to my plans - set on making this the most painful month of his life, certain that he will never consider doing this challenge again.

if only he knew what he was getting himself into.

“baby?” my voice sounds throughout the quiet house, loud enough for tom to pick up on it from downstairs. i smile to myself, turning to the mirror and adjusting the strap of the bra that i had bought earlier on, whilst tom had been at practice. the black lace - a colour which tom had never been able to control himself when ever i wore it - tightly cupped my breasts, pushing them upward and highlighting my cleavage in the most tempting way possible. small silver jewels line the lace of my thongs, matching perfectly with my upper half, leaving little to the imagination - though far too much that tom wouldn’t be able to touch, a task which would seem impossible the second he laid his eyes on mine.

“yeah?”

“can you come here for a second?” my question is nothing short of innocent, calm with a slight hint of mischief, though it is clearly not enough for him to pick up on as he shouts a quick ‘sure’, the rhythmic sound of his feet trudging up the stairs signalling that he is close, and clearly not expecting anything like this. but it has been two days- fourty eight hours of no sex, no touching, not even an implicit complaint of needing anything sexual from tom. he has been strangely okay with not fucking me, a task which any other time, would be next to impossible. and i feel it - i feel the difference in his actions. he is restricted, almost holding back just in case his impulses get the better of him. but right now, his mind has no choice, my own doing the thinking for him as he is walking blindly into my carefully calculated trap.

“is everything okay-” his calm question is soon cut off by the short curses that spill from his lips when his eyes make contact with my body, not bothering to hide the way they rake down my figure, drinking in the prominent cleavage, moving downward to my curves, finally landing on the slightly transparent panties.

“jesus christ schatz you’re gonna fucking kill me.” he mutters, walking toward me and attacking his hands to my waist, the pads of his fingers tracing the bare skin of my stomach, one slipping teasingly into my panties. his lips are inches away from my own, about to lean in and seal them in a heated kiss, though i pull away, leaving him dumbfounded.

“you like?” i ask innocently, doing a quick twirl as his eyes quickly glue to my ass, soon looking upward once i face him once again. he is in some sort of trance, mouth hanging open slightly, eyes dark and lustful, though the most noticeable difference is the tent that has formed through his sweatpants, a tinge of satisfaction in my veins at the realisation that my plan has worked. despite this, i keep the naive act up, acting as if i do not notice his change in demeanour. “i bought it from victoria’s secret today. it was on sale, and this was the last one in my size. what do you think?”

“you know what i think.” he states frustratedly, his hands doing the talking as they trail down to my ass, giving the bare flesh a rough squeeze, his lips ghosting over my own. “you’re so sexy schatz, so beautiful.”

his lips attach to my own, an indisputable hunger evident as he kisses me, his free hand latching onto the loose curls that fall to my upper waist, running through them harshly. he groans lowly into my mouth, pressing his hips against my own, silently drawing my attention to the hardness between his thighs.

“look what you’re doing to me baby.” he breathes out, seeming a little angry that i have managed to get to him so easily. though he doesn’t kiss me again, instead he holds back, pressing his forehead against mine whilst his hands continue to rest on my lower back, bringing our bodies closer together. “fuck you’re making this so hard…you know that?”

“you gonna give up already?” my voice is seductive, a torturous mix of sympathetic and lustful, lips moving to rest just below his ear, kissing the skin as his eyes flutter shut, a loud sigh leaving his parted mouth, the grip on my waist simultaneously becoming tighter when my kisses speed up. “if you want me…i’m right here.”

“jesus fucking christ.” he trails off, his eyes now squeezing shut as my lips work against his neck, his mind visibly contemplating on whether he should give in. i am right in front of him, my body a blank canvas, willing to give myself up, to allow myself to be used as he pleases, in exchange for the pathetic remainder of his pride - the two days that he has gone without me going down the drain if he decides to act on the desire that is so clearly eating him up.

his visible indecisiveness isn’t enough for me. i need him to give up, to no longer care about holding back anymore, my hand moving underneath his sweatpants as i run my fingers along his length through his boxers, a loud groan leaving his lips in response. he doesn’t object, instead he seems to lean into my touch, confirmation of his defeat on the tip of his tongue, just about to be uttered, my eyes wide open as i wait for him to finally say it.

a loud buzzing sound resonating from his pocket soon takes his attention, totally destroying the moment as i remove my hand from his pants, his eyes shooting open as he takes his phone, the source of the noise, eyes slightly widening once he sees the who is calling, their name lighting up the screen. bill.

“i have to take this baby. you look beautiful by the way, and, nice try.” he says, shooting me a wink and placing a quick kiss on my lips before adjusting himself, clearing his throat and disappearing out of the room. pretty fucking convenient.

i groan in frustration, collapsing backward onto the bed, completely infuriated at the fact that he was so close to letting go, knowing that right now he could be inside of me if it weren’t for that phone call - quickly realising that this is going to be much harder than i had thought.

my eyes make direct contact with the fresh towel folded neatly on the bathroom counter, scrambling quickly to hide it in the cupboard below as i step out of the shower, hands twisting the tap as the fast flow of water soon stops. i smile to myself when i hear the faint sound of a guitar from our bedroom, signalling that tom is in there, this key to my plan. nine days - nine whole days and he hadn’t cracked, not even close to wanting to fuck, the quick make out sessions and ability to still touch me as he pleases seeming to be sufficient. and whilst his mouth and fingers feel good, i need more, desperate to feel him inside of me, willing to go to any lengths to make him crack.

my fingers rake hurriedly through my freshly washed hair in an attempt to make it look somewhat neater, whilst my body remains completely naked, dripping with water. i take one final look at myself through the fogged up mirror, certain that my plan will work this time, figuring that if it doesn’t, then literally nothing else will.

i open the door that leads directly into our bedroom, acting totally nonchalant and squeezing any last droplets of water from my hair. i walk over to the closet, pretending to scan the shelves for towels, knowing that there aren’t any in here, my entire body on display for him. the gentle strumming of the guitar soon comes to a stop, signalling that i have gotten tom’s attention almost immediately, as i had expected.

“baby have you seen the towels? i can’t find any fresh ones anywhere.” i sigh obliviously, eyes finally landing on his own, only his are fixed on my figure, clearly not paying attention to a word that i am saying. his lips are parted, eyes shifting downward as they slowly take in each inch of skin, nothing at all left to his imagination which, despite his silence, clearly offers him no thoughts deemed holy.

“hm?” he mutters, moving his guitar from where it had been resting in his lap and setting it beside him on the bed. he gets up quickly, walking toward me, the awestruck expression plastered on his face now replaced with one unable to be mistaken for anything else besides pure lust. and when his hands find my waist, running up and down it softly, tongue dipping in and out of his mouth to play with the piercing there whilst his lips are curved into a smirk, i know that i have him right where i want him.

“i said do you know where the towels are. i can’t find any and i need to get dry.” his eyes look everywhere but my face, the only thing i get in response being a subtle nod. instead, his hands move upward, cupping my breasts, whilst his head finally tilts, eyes tearing away from where his hands now roam, lips nearing closer and closer, until they roughly collide with my own.

and i waste no time kissing back, silently thanking his almost non-existent willpower, channelling my pent up sexual frustration into the kiss as my lips mould with his, sighing loudly when his teeth sink into the plush of my bottom lip. he presses himself against me, the tent in his jeans more obvious than ever, one that he won’t be able to ignore as easily as he had done last time - one that i know he has to fix, meaning that this time, he won’t leave me totally desperate. his tongue slips into my mouth when i moan slightly, the kiss more messier than before, totally unrecognisable to the soft ones we had shared up until this moment, because this time, they show that he wants this just as badly as i do.

“jump.” he mutters almost inaudibly against my lips, soon reconnecting them once he breathes in shakily, his hands grabbing the flesh under my thighs once i hoist myself upward, wrapping them around his waist. he guides us toward the bed, using the steady hold he has on my hips to grind me against his, the sensation making it harder for him to kiss back, soon reminding me that this is the first sexual contact he has had in over a week. my back collides harshly with the soft sheets as he climbs above me, reconnecting our lips and slowly spreading my legs apart. he hurriedly scrambles to take his shirt off, throwing the material carelessly across the room, revealing his bare torso.

my hands run down the skin, trailing the muscle of his abs, watching how his eyes fall shut as i move lower and lower, stopping just above the waistband of his jeans. his eyes open when i hesitate, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. he quickly places his hand on top of mine, now guiding my movements as he forces my fingers to slip below the denim, moving below the cotton of his boxers.

“what about your challenge?” i ask, just before my fingers make contact with his dick, eyes widening when he groans in frustration, rolling his eyes at my question.

“fuck the challenge.” he mumbles, forcing my hand to wrap around his dick, his head falling backward the second that the pads of my fingers trace his length, soon running up and down at a slow pace.

“oh jesus christ.” he whispers, eyes half-lidded as he fights to keep them open, desperate to watch my movements, no matter how lethargic they are. because though i have gotten what i wanted, managing to divert his attention from the ridiculous challenge onto me, i want him to be in control, opposed to me doing all the work. and somehow, he seems to read my mind, removing my hand from underneath his pants despite the unmistakable satisfaction etched upon his face. his movements are fast as he removes his jeans, boxers soon following in a messy heap of clothing on the floor.

being naked already works in my favour, allowing tom to line his tip at my entrance, hand pumping his dick lazily a few times before slowly sliding in. as he does so, the tip slips in and out of my folds ever so slightly as i whine in frustration, the stimulation not enough as it reminds me of everything that i have within arms reach, tom holding back only agitating me even more. he picks up on my impatience, my anger buying him time to savour this moment, to tease me just a little more, having me under his mercy just as i had him last time i had gotten close to making him surrender. and i am not willing to have him ripped away again, to be taunted beyond belief, instead willing to beg for him.

“stop playing around and just fuck me.” i sigh through pathetic moans, hands reaching to his neck, pulling it downward so our foreheads our inches apart. and surprisingly, he puts me out of my misery, slowly sliding into me in one smooth snap of his hips. my mouth falls open, a high-pitched moan leaving it when he bottoms out, his tip brushing against my g-spot perfectly, hands raking down his back.

and though my nails dig into the skin with enough force to draw blood, he uses the pain to build up the speed of his thrusts, teeth gritting together as he winces lowly, somewhat used to the feeling, knowing that his pace warranted the strength of my fingers dragging down his back. despite the stinging pain, he maintains a soft smirk, knowing that the soft red marks are nothing more than evidence of the pleasure that only he can provide me with. desperate to feel him just a little closer, my legs hook around his waist, drawing him even deeper inside me, so deep that i swear i can feel him in my stomach.

“you knew what you were doing.” he breathes out between soft groans, so quiet they are almost inaudible. “knew that i’d give in, didn’t you?”

whilst he can speak somewhat coherently, i had lost that ability the second his dick had entered me, any sound that i make an embarrassing mix of moans and whines - nowhere near a properly understandable sentence. though tom wants more, using one hand to grab hold of my cheeks firmly, though not enough to hurt me, forcing my eyes to make contact with his own, prompting me to answer his question.

“mhm…” i manage to mumble, eyes rolling to the back of my head when his tip repeatedly hits the soft spot inside of me, soft curses now pouring from tom’s lips as i clench around him, knowing the reaction that such movements usually encourage out of him, recognising that this time is no different.

“fuck- it’s worth it though schatz. you feel so good, taking me so well.” his words of encouragement are all i need to attach my lips to his neck, placing messy, open-mouthed kisses to the soft skin, noticing the way his lips part, quiet and almost restricted moans escaping them. it isn’t enough for me, feeling somewhat frustrated that he holds back, wanting nothing more for him to cry out in pleasure as i already am, craving for him to mirror my own ecstasy.

“i wanna hear you…” i whine quietly, clenching around him as he curses once again before mumbling a low ‘okay baby’, his lips falling open as rough moans now sound from the back of his throat, getting louder when he drills into me at a certain angle, far deeper than he has ever been before.

and when that familiar knot begins to build within my stomach, i don’t need to ask tom if he is close to, his dick beginning to twitch faintly inside of me. his teeth sink into his bottom lip, thrusts becoming slow and deep, no longer rough and fast as they had been moments ago. now i can really feel him, every inch of his dick slowly pushing inside of me, stopping for a second when he bottoms out, soft grunts leaving his lips as quiet moans escape my own, feeling him closer than i ever had before.

“gonna cum baby. do it with me, yeah?” he whispers, head dipping downward to place messy kisses across my face, starting at my forehead, trailing downward to my nose and cheeks, before ending at my lips, capturing them in yet another rough kiss, nothing like the slow and deep movements of his hips as he continues to push in and out of me.

when his lips falter, no longer able to kiss me with such force as they had when they had initiated it, i know that he can’t hold on anymore, his head tilting backward as a loud moan escapes his mouth, followed with hot spurts of cum that coat my walls, his hips rocking back and forth tiredly as he releases. the pressure of his own climax soon triggers my own, his name spilling from my lips over and over again, high off the feeling of his dick as it continues to thrust into me, fucking his seed deeper, riding both our highs.

his hold on my waist becomes softer, slight red marks in place of his fingers, our breathing loud and heavy as it envelops the room, thick with the smell of sex. he pulls out of me, sighing loudly as a mix of our juices seeps out, his hands lazily grabbing some tissue to wipe it away.

tiredly, he moves upward, his body collapsing on top of me, lips pecking my own a few times. my own arms wrap around his back, fingers tracing the skin softly in an attempt to ease the stinging pain my nails had left whilst his own hands run along my trembling frame, lips pressing sweet kisses into my hair.

“you okay?” his voice is hoarse as he speaks, attempting to appear as unbothered as possible, though i can tell he is totally worn out. i manage a quick ‘mhm’, lips turning to kiss just above his shoulder, noticing him smile weakly against me.

“are you upset about the challenge?” i ask tiredly, eyes on the verge of closing, ears barely picking up the soft chuckle that leaves his lips, his fingers squeezing the flesh of my hips as he kisses me softly, shaking his head.

“fuck the challenge.” he stretches out, bringing my body closer to his. “sex is just too good, plus it’s hard when my girlfriend walks around naked in front of me, what kind of guy ignores that shit? i don’t care if someone paid me, i’d never pass up on a chance like that. especially when you look this good.”

“you’re so romantic.” i scoff sarcastically, shaking my head at his impulsiveness, feeling him smile against me, his head lifting up to look into my eyes.

“what, i’m not allowed to say you’re beautiful?” he smirks, hands trailing my body once again, eyes visibly lighting up with that same look i had seen just minutes ago, knowing exactly what it means. “i mean, i could show you that you’re beautiful instead, if you want me to…”

though the grin on his face says otherwise, i know that he is serious about it, his actions proving so if my instincts weren’t enough. his hands trail upward knowingly, fingers running across my breasts as his lips makes content with them, placing harsh kisses onto the skin, his teeth digging in every few seconds. my head falls backward, back arching to allow him better access, silently accepting his proposal. he stops momentarily, looking into my eyes.

“we’ve got nine days of lost time to make up for schatz. i think now seems like a good time to start, don’t you?”

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

#tomkaulitz #tokiohotel #tom kaulitz x reader #kaulitz twins #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz fluff #kaulitz #tom kaulitz angst #bill kaulitz

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xiao-come-home · 1 year

Text

Where Genshin men like to be kissed;

┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓

✰ Characters: Ayato, Itto, Kazuha, Xiao, Zhongli, Baizhu, Alhaitham, Cyno, Kaeya, Diluc, Dainsleif.

✰ Words: 1k.

✰ SFW ; gn!reader, no mentions of pronouns. fluff.

Warnings: Ayato's, Kaeya's and Diluc's may be a bit sug/gestive. msg me to add more.

A/N: *kicks down door* hello there. i appear with some writing, wow! i am in fact still alive, work just kicks my a$$ ;q;

┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛

Ayato:

adores jaw kisses that immediately get him going. his knees go weak whenever your soft lips begin caressing his jawbone, even to the point of earning a delicious whimper out of him; his brows furrow as he closes his eyes in pleasure. ayato inhales sharply when you brush your lips so gently on his jawline. though, these kisses are mostly reserved for your private sessions - ayato most certainly doesn't mind a quick peck on his jaw, when you come across him. or if you're a short sweetheart that can't reach higher :)

Itto:

the oni is a simple man - his lips. he's very playful, so if you're short he'll tease you about not being able to reach his lips (which is followed by itto leaning down and kissing you), but if you're tall - he'll attempt to dodge them to annoy you. itto just loves the simplicity of it and how sweet your lips mesh together. he always awaits his first kiss of the day from you - be it in the morning or when you hang out and meet him. if you enjoy sweets, watch out - he might use some flavored lip balms to make you kiss him more.. or just use his lollipop as one.

Kazuha:

to make kazuha blush and giggle the softest way possible, kiss his nose. it always catches his off guard, and the whole interaction is just so silly, he absolutely loves it!! when you're far, far away together, sitting by the fire, enjoying each other's company, and having his head on your shoulder - it's the prefect recipe to give his nose a tiny kiss and watch his eyes sparkle with uttermost devotion when he turns his head to look at you.

Xiao:

corners of his mouth - it's the place where it all began. during the beginning of your relationship, when xiao was more bashful and slightly scared of fully kissing you on the lips, you began kissing the corners of his mouth; he loves how gentle your kisses are, so close to where they should be, tempting him to move and seal your lips together with yours. even after your relationship progresses, these kisses have a special place in his heart - still getting butterflies whenever you do it again.

Zhongli:

cheek kisses are his favorite. he thinks they're very elegant and that you can kiss him anywhere without looking too obnoxious. perhaps they're his favorite because that's the place where you kissed him for the very first time in his current vessel - he probably won't ever admit that it held him speechless for a few minutes, feeling affection after many, many years. zhongli still remembers cupping his burning cheek and how it marked the first day of him trying to win your heart.

Baizhu:

forehead kisses! baizhu always gets a bit shy when you kiss his forehead, his cheeks dusting with pink ever so slightly at the sensation of your lips making contact with his skin. he just can't get over how adorable it is, so he always tries to return the favor. when his illness makes him bedbound, your kisses are one of the very few things that truly give him comfort and hope, reminding him of his mother. baizhu hopes to preserve them until the end of time; to feel the warmth forever, with you by his side.

Alhaitham:

he thinks it's very in character, because it's his hands. he doesn't let you do that often though, because it makes him feel slightly vulnerable. he doesn't mind quick pecks when you play with his hands - despite his somewhat still, stone-faced expression, his heart melts into a puddle. when alhaitham comes home after a long day with his hands completely exhausted from documenting various things at the akademiya, the scribe can't help but sigh in relief when you start thoroughly taking care of them and finishing up with the most loving kisses on each of his fingers; he swears it takes the pain away.

Cyno:

temple kisses. despite being a mahamatra, your relationship isn't fully public - you can come across very different people, and being important to cyno might either save you or put in trouble - so he decided that temple kisses are your special thing. he started liking it even more since you began kissing his temples while having his head in your lap and playing with his hair. cyno loves how subtle they are regardless if it's public or not, but also very intimate between you two. also, you're probably giving him an opportunity to make puns about sumeru temples, so he's even happier.

Kaeya:

neck kisses are kaeya's addiction; he doesn't need to say anything, nor he hides it, he's absolutely in heaven if he feels your lips on his neck - feeling as if he were to float far in the clouds, only to be taken back to teyvat to feel that the true divinity is in front of him. don't be afraid of marking him, the more the better - it's definitely worth for just hearing him hiss in pleasure and make his hands explore your body with more excitement. kaeya will proudly show off his marks later on and eagerly claim ownership of you in return.

Diluc:

diluc always loses his composure if you trail kisses from his lips all the way down to his collarbone. his disheveled crimson hair, his chest moving rapidly as the excitement builds up, he can only gasp as you attack his collarbones and pepper them with kisses; he thinks he's going insane when you press open-mouth kisses along with teasing his sensitive skin with your warm tongue. diluc can only wait so long until he entangles his hand in your hair and yanks you to meet his hungry lips.

Dainsleif:

dain has.. love and hate relationship with kisses on his lips. on one hand, it gives him strength and motivation to fight against time, but it leaves him yearning more and more each time your lips pull away from his. the kisses tug at his heartstrings, reminding him that he's still truly alive and breathing - that he's not alone in this uncertain, cold world. if you cup his cheeks and lean in to kiss dainsleif, he'll reciprocate, slightly hesitant; but his body reacts faster than his mind, placing his own hands over yours and kissing you back with just the same amount of passion.

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edenesth · 2 months

Note

MOOT GAME: " make up a trope for your moots and their biases. doesn’t need to be romantic. can be crackfic/funny/anything you want ^ㅇ(๑>◡<๑)ㅇ^ "

Dear Soulmate

I'm sorry it took me so long, anon! I didn't know how to approach this and was waiting for a friend to do it first🙈

For my one and only, my pookie, @itstheghostofmypast💖

Choi San — soulmate au (idiots to lovers)

In a world where soulmates exist, most people discover their other halves before reaching twenty-five, you struggle to find yours, even when he had been right in front of you all along. You've witnessed those around you revelling in the bliss of finding their destined partners, all the while blindly awaiting your own.

"I cannot believe this, I'm dying alone!" you cried.

"Pooks, he'll come when the timing's right, I just know it," Eve, your closest friend and platonic soulmate, reassured you, wrapping you in a comforting embrace as you poured out your frustration. Despite being on the cusp of turning 26, your soulmate remained elusive.

"How did you and Hwa find each other again?" you asked, desperate for answers.

Eve sighed, "Whenever one of us gets hurt, a flower tattoo appears on the other in the same spot of their body. You know how clumsy I am, he found me through those blossoms. But each soulmate pair has their own unique connection. Haven't you felt anything special?"

See, in this world with soulmates, each pair discovers their connection in their own way. There's no universal formula, and you despised that fact vehemently. It only added unnecessary complexity to the already challenging quest for love.

Your parents had found each other through their inner voices, where their internal voices are the other's instead of their own. Your sister had found her soulmate through a compass on her body that led her to where her other half is.

And then there was you. Nothing. Nada. Niente. Absolutely nothing at all.

And as your birthday drew near this year, panic set in. You'd soon be a year older than the age when most people found their soulmates. Maybe you didn't have one, maybe he died, maybe he got aborted as a foetus, maybe—

"Woah, woah, just take a deep breath, everything will be okay," your friend reassured, trying her best to help in any way possible, "Hey, didn't you say you've been having a lot of dreams lately? And it's always that same dream?"

You blew a raspberry in frustration, "Yeah, but I doubt my recent dreams have anything to do with my soulmate, assuming I even have one. They're always about that art museum I go to on weekends. I think it's just because I spend so much time there."

She pondered for a moment, "Wait a minute, didn't you mention that San guy you always see there? What if—"

"Oh, hell no," you exclaimed, shuddering at the possibility of that annoyingly gorgeous mountain of a man being your destined lover, "I'd rather be alone forever than end up with someone like him."

It all happened on a day when you sought solace at the museum after a taxing week at school. Exhausted from dealing with incompetent classmates and antagonistic professors, you longed for a moment of peace as you approached your cherished spot in the corner. But to your dismay, you discovered an ignorant man occupying not just one seat, but the entire bench with his belongings. And not just any bench, your bench, the one everyone knew better than to occupy.

So you did the first thing that came to mind, you might have uttered some unkind words out of irritation. Looking back, you acknowledge it was all very unnecessary, considering it was likely his first visit to the museum and he clearly didn't realise it was your spot. However, your pride prevented you from admitting fault.

Consequently, he responded with equal unpleasantness. Even the museum guards had to intervene before things escalated into a fight. Like dealing with children, they persuaded both of you to share the bench since there was clearly more than enough space for two.

You adamantly refused to yield your spot and relocate, asserting your presence since you were here first. Similarly, it seemed his foolish pride prevented him from budging as well; thus, you both found yourselves locked in a silent standoff, exchanging wary glances as you engaged in a weekly silent war.

"Ugh, was hoping I wouldn't have to see your face today," San sneered, earning a glare from you as you settled down beside him. You were running slightly late, having trouble getting up after yet another frustrating dream, one slightly more annoying than usual.

Deliberately nudging his bag aside with irritation, you narrowed your eyes, "You wish, loser. This spot is mine, and it's staying that way."

He smirked in response, "Someone's in a foul mood, but then again, when are you not? Hope it's not because of that dream where your precious bench gets snatched away for good."

"Shut the hell up—"

You stopped short, a sudden realisation hitting you like a ton of bricks. You hadn't shared that dream with anyone, not even Eve. No one should know about it except... No freaking way. He couldn't possibly be the one you've been waiting for all this time. It seemed too absurd to be true. Why, out of all people, would fate pair you with this insufferable, infuriating, irksome yet undeniably attractive, bastard?

"Surprise, genius. It's me, your soulmate."

"I knew," he confessed, his voice carrying frustration and resignation, "I knew from the moment I saw you that you were my other half. That's why I came here in the first place, why I was in this exact spot."

Your breath hitched as his words sank in. All this time, he had known, yet he had still chosen to engage in your petty conflicts.

"But when I met you," he continued, "I was excited, hopeful even. But your attitude, your stubbornness... it's unbearable. As much as I feel the pull towards you, I can't ignore how immensely annoyed I am by your behaviour."

His words landed like a punch to the gut.

"I know that if I had a choice in who my soulmate is," he admitted, his gaze intense, "it would never be you."

After a moment of processing his words, you gritted your teeth in anger, "Well, joke's on you, buddy. I don't want you either. Maybe it would be best for both of us if you stop showing up here from now on."

Days turned into weeks, and true to your request, San ceased his visits to the museum. At first, you felt a strange sense of relief, but soon, that relief morphed into a tumult of conflicting emotions.

You didn't know how to feel. Did you truly mean what you said, or were those words simply born out of anger? Your emotions were a tangled mess. On one hand, you had just turned away your soulmate after yearning for his presence for so long. On the other hand, you couldn't shake the resentment that it had to be him, of all people. Part of you longed to be near him, to reconcile and embrace your destiny. But another part recoiled at the thought, recoiled at the frustration his presence brought.

Unbeknownst to you, San wasn't doing much better. His heart felt hollow, the absence of your presence leaving a gaping void. He tried to carry on with his life as before, but the weight of your rejection hung heavy on his shoulders. But his pride also kept him from reaching out to you.

He suppressed the pull towards you, buried it beneath layers of denial and indifference. But no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, your essence lingered in his dreams, haunting him with visions of what could have been.

Then, one day, fate intervened in a way neither of you could have predicted. You fell ill with food poisoning and ended up in the hospital. In a panic, San saw it in his dream, a vision of you lying pale and weak in a hospital bed. Without hesitation, he raced to your side, his heart pounding with fear. As he stood in the hospital room, watching over you, he realised the depth of his feelings. Despite everything, he couldn't deny the truth any longer. You were his soulmate, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing you.

You furrowed your brows at his unexpected appearance, "What the hell are you doing here? Who invited you?"

His heart sank at your coldness, but before he could form a response, Eve intervened, giving you a playful smack on the shoulder, "Stop it, you! He came all this way, and you're still going to be mean to him?" Turning to San with a warm smile, she continued, "You must be San! I'm Eve, her best friend. It's nice to finally meet you. Oh, and please don't take her words to heart. She likes to pretend as if she hadn't been dying to see you again."

Blushing furiously at her blunt revelation, you shot her a glare, but she simply tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, "Behave yourself. I'll be back shortly after settling the bill with Hwa," she said, brushing past San. As she passed him, she gave a polite nod, "Please take care of her for me, won't you?"

"Of course, Eve," he replied, nodding in return.

As soon as your friend left the room, he took a step closer, his tone serious, "Listen, I'm tired of playing games. I came here because I realised I can't bear to lose you again. So, tell me if you feel the same right now. If you still want me gone, I'll leave and never show my face around you ever again."

His words struck a chord, and you couldn't hold back the tears any longer. He couldn't resist the pull any longer, sitting down beside you on the bed and wrapping his arms around you. Relief flooded through him as he felt you relax in his embrace.

"I don't want to lose you again either. I'm sorry I was an idiot," you whispered.

"You should be," he teased, planting a kiss on your hair, "But I'm sorry too. Perhaps I should have told you who I was from the start. Let's just... not say things we don't mean and hurt each other again, okay?"

You nodded, squeezing him tightly, "Okay, Sannie."

#edenesth #lovely asks #my pookie #itstheghostofmypast #ateez fanfiction #choi san #ateez san #soulmate au #choi san x reader #choi san x you

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thebibliosphere · 10 months

Note

Joy! I've officially jumped on the Phangs bandwagon, so I can finally send coherent questions about it—how did you come up with the political landscape? I imagine it's at least partially inspired by true events, but how do you keep straight the political compasses of each character?

Eeey! Welcome aboard!

And yeah, a lot of it's based on history, but also a lot of current events if you squint. (Or maybe you don't need to squint.)

As for how I keep the characters straight (ha!) I had definite ideas about them while forming their personalities and history.

Nathan is the youngest and only starting to question the political landscape around him. He's not politically unaware but perhaps a little naive and unwilling to see how corrupt everything is.

He's been conditioned from a young age not to question authority. Military indoctrination will do that to you. Only when he finds himself on the frontline of an unjust and hopeless war does he realize things aren't what they seem. He still toes the line... until he gets injured, and the true depths of how little the military or government cares for people like him gives him a nasty jolt. Even in the first book, he's still somewhat in denial because part of him doesn't want to admit that he's been complacent. You can see what in the conversation with his brother Miles. His realization that he's spent his whole life following orders doesn't sit well with him, and that's a theme that will continue for his character in all future books.

It's only when he meets Vlad that he genuinely starts to question things, and that's because Vlad is the walking embodiment of a homemade Molotov cocktail wrapped up in a silk suit and a fierce, unshakeable sense of justice.

Vlad was created as a challenge to the bored, misanthropic vampire stereotype who doesn't give a shit about humanity because they've been around for hundreds of years and lost all faith in humanity. If anything, the longer Vlad is around humanity, the more fiercely he loves it and wants to do everything he can to help them. He grew up under the bloody iron fist of his grandfather's regime and saw firsthand what happens in a world devoid of democracy, and he's been running from it ever since.

He can only do a little under his father's thumb. But what he can do, Vlad does with all of his being. He's found ways to enable free schooling and medical care on the island, and if you give him a few more decades, he'll find a way to make housing accessible, too. (It's a numbers game, and he's very good with numbers. And honestly, his father doesn't pay too much attention to what he's doing. Not if he's careful about it...) He's also a staunch believer in the power of worker's unions, and despite technically being the person the unions would fight against, he is trying to help the workers of his island unionize because he believes it is the just and right thing to do.

Ultimately, Vlad is my firebrand catalyst for change, and I am really looking forward to exploring his arcs in future books.

Ursula is... tricky. She's in a precarious situation where she can't afford to draw attention to herself and, at times, has been forced to side with people she'd otherwise cheerfully drown because they could offer her the best protection. It's exhausting and soul-destroying, and it leaves her feeling powerless. Which is laughable when considering who she is. What she is.

She hates it. She wants it to be different. She doesn't like feeling so hopeless. Defeated. But she's tried to change things in the past, and it almost destroyed everything. So now she just keeps her head down and works from the shadows. It's safest that way. Not to mention quicker. After all, what's one more human war to an immortal [REDACTED]? If she ignores it, it'll go away. Eventually. Right? Right? (This may or may not be the denial talking.) (It is absolutely the denial talking.)

The fact that human politics are about to severely and unavoidably affect her will not go down well. Ursula is, in fact, going to be bloody livid about it. Not to mention guilt-riddled for burying her head in the sand and letting the humans go unchecked for so long.

Fortunately, she's got some new allies in her corner. A fiercely protective werewolf with a newfound sense of political rage and a vampire who's been spoiling for a fight of this magnitude for over four hundred years. Maybe, just maybe, this time, things will be different...

#hunger pangs: true love bites #hunger pangs series #world building #character building

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cafecourage · 2 months

Note

Speaking of sleepy, caring for sleepy Chain

-Softie

We worked on this on stream long ago. I also made this also one bed. Part 1 has Time, Twilight, and Warriors

_____________

There was a common issue among some of the chain where most all of them have the fatal flaw of not being able to sleep. Some had issues waking up like Sky, Wind, Four and Wild. You quickly found that Legend was among that group but given the incident he went into the latter issue. Which was annoying when dealing with. It was completely opposite problems.

Time:

It was always hard to tell if the Old man was tired as he seemed to be always absolutely exhausted. Which was fair enough since he was dubbed the dad friend in the group thus making him the main person to go to for everything. It’s a wonder how he hasn’t just slept for 7 more years yet.

Still the Hero of Time was probably 3 days in without sleep and thats what you observed. Granted you should have stopped him by day 2. But you weren’t sure if he slept on the days you seen him take first shift and wake up with him being on last shift.

The other boy’s notice it too and while they all appreciate the extra sleep it’s unfair for Time. Warriors is typically the only one that speaks up about it since he isn’t phased by the Older Link’s tough exterior. While it would be embarrassing in hindsight you had to drag Warriors aside to push for you and Time to be in the same room. “I have a plan” is what you tell the captain not letting him know that you in fact, dont have a plan.

Truly the plan is fist fight the old man until he actually sleeps, or lecture him whatever you feel like. At least you will be here in town for a few days to gather supplies and information. So you can at least fix Time’s sleep schedule.

You’re plotting came to an extreme halt as you step into a room with one bed. “This can work.” You say out loud as you dropped your stuff in a corner of the room. “We can share the bed.” It’s not even up for debate at this point.

“Can we?” Time asks as he closes the door “wouldn’t that be uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable?” That wouldn’t be the word you would use. “Nah. Unless it makes you uncomfortable. Then I can take the floor.”

The hero gives you a look, one to even dare you to say that again. “If you don’t mind, then I don’t see why fight over it.”

“It I am being real.” You stand up and stretched “you do need it more.” It has been decided. You are lecturing him. “When is the last time you slept a full 8 hours? Heck 6 hours I would accept.”

An eyebrow was raised as he heads inside “I have been fine with the sleep I’ve been getting.” He takes his armor off putting each piece down carefully before finally sitting on the bed. He pats the spot next to him.

You follow his lead as you prepare a long argument. “Ah, yes the zero hou- Ack!” What you didn’t expect was Time to drag you into his lap and lay down.

Your face exploded in a blush as you were now basically his teddy bear. “Don’t you think I haven’t noticed you also have trouble sleeping.” He whispered as he was already in the process of wrapping the both of you in the blankets. “Let’s take a nap for now…”

Well… This backfired successfully.

Twilight:

Twilight was one of these Links which, made sense but also didn’t when you found this out. He tries to older brother everyone, he makes sure everyone is asleep before he does. Which takes forever to do and your patience for this man is thinning.

After stopping in a town from a long trek. The group decides to go to the Inn to set up shop. You were already on Twilight to take a nap before dinner. “No. We are going to eat in like 30 minutes.”

Ok.

No.

He isn’t getting out of this and you don’t care you’re in the middle of the lobby. There was something that the chain has yet to learn about you.

You might be short.

But you are strong.

So you marched up to Twilight and despite his struggling you throw the hero over your shoulder and went directly to the room angrily. “Let me down!” Twilight demands of you. However you couldn’t care about it as you open the door kick it close and threw him on the bed. “That was unnecessary.” He said getting up.

“It was very necessary!” You argued back crossing your arms. “When is the last time you properly slept?”

Twilight stays quiet and looks away. He looked like a kicked puppy. “I get enough.”

“According to who? Because everyone else can make an argument that you’re barely getting any to function.” You let out a huff as you should probably be more lenient with him because it’s not really like he is doing something bad. You know from experience that the body could function with little sleep if it’s used to it but it’s not healthy! You didn’t go through classes with a clear mind but you should have! “We are just worried about you.”

The Hero stays quiet but sighs “ok. I understand.” He seems to give up at this point. But he reaches out to take your hand finally letting himself looked exhausted “but… can you stay with me?”

Your eyes soften as he seemed to be more tired than you thought. “Of course I will. Someone has to make sure you stay put.” He teases you.

Warriors:

After a long day of traveling an inn was a welcoming sight. Since there were ten of you now each room had to have 2 people. Which was sometimes unfortunate for some, but for you in this current moment?

You couldn’t ask for a better opportunity since you (forcably) asked to be Warrior’s pair, only to have there only be one bed.

Perfect.

Wonderful.

Amazing.

It was instant that you had grabbed Warriors tunic and almost thrown him on to the bed. “Didn’t know you wanted me on the bed that badly, doll.” He was laughing. This man was laughing and he looked like hell. Probably felt like it too as the ever polished captain was showing dark circles under his eyes. His smile was sluggish and his eyes weren’t as sharp as they normally were.

“Very funny.” You rolled your eyes as you headed towards him again to help him out of his armor. “You should take better care of yourself. 3 days of barely any sleep? What were you thinking?!”

“That the other boys need some sleep.” There was no hesitation as the stubborn man is proud of himself for killing his sleep schedule. “It’s fine.” “It is not fine.” You didn’t mean to throw his shoulder plate on the carpet. “You better take your chainmail off before I do it for you.”

“What if I rather you do it for me?” The captain fire back without missing a beat. Instantly his face paled “wait-“

“Nope to late come here.” You take his tunic and just… thew it off of him. “Do you want to continue?” This was a threat.

“no…” Warriors voice was silent as he finally got out of what armor he had left. “I should sleep on the floo-“ that suggestion was instantly silent as you glared at him.

Finally when both of you were ready for bed you had put your self on top of him. Cuddling but also if he was going to escape he will have to wake you up first. “this is so you don’t escape.” You said.

“I wont. I wont.” Warriors was a bit hesitant to wrap his arms around you “Thank you.” He whispered as he finally started to relaxed.

“Don’t rely on me to fix your sleep habits.” You said poking his cheek “good night Captain.”

“Good Night Sweetheart.”

#twilight (not lu) speaks #linked universe x reader #luxreader #linkeduniverse x reader #linkeduniverse #linked universe #monkey bread

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x0x0josephinex0x0 · 8 months

Text

The Hope in the Fault Lines, part 1

Summary: after your sister and her husband are tragically killed, you become the guardian of their daughter, your niece. As you try to pick up the pieces of your life, you become aware that you need help. Desperately. So you hire a nanny. Enter Mingyu, an ex-agent-turned-childcare-professional with a past of his own.

Genre: fluff, heavy themes, (light) smut in later parts (minors DNI)

Warnings: (applies to most of the parts) descriptions of grief, mental illness, disordered eating, instant parenthood, loss of sibling, vehicle-related death, police investigation, child custody court, parental abuse

Word count for pt 1: 4.3k

part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Why aren’t I numb yet? you think to yourself.

Because really, you should be there by now. Hell, you’d even planned to be there by now so you could go back to work. But here you are — standing in your seven-month-old niece’s bedroom, crying along with her, the agony in your chest building like water that slowly heightens to a boil, its persistent, grief-tinged bubbles roiling in time with every pointless beat of your absolutely shattered heart.

You stroke the back of your niece Sara’s head and made soothing noises as well as you could around your own tears. Surely, at some point, she had to stop crying, right? Then maybe you could get back to sleep, which so far has been the only semi-consistent way to forget the grim truth of your reality.

Which was that your sister, Jeri — the proper mother for this fussing thing in your arms — and her husband, Jisung, were dead. That was why you were here, with a child who was missing the same person you were missing but had much less of a vocabulary to express it, so she just cried and cried and cried until you realized she was voicing your own internal monologue. Both of you were hoping that she’d walk in any minute and hold you and make the world stop its incessant spinning for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m sorry you only have me. I’m sorry that’s the best I can give you.” You stifle a sob. “I’m sorry that she’s gone. I miss her too.”

Eventually, Sara’s wails quieted, and she slumped against your shoulder, exhausted. You collapsed into the chair in the nursery, exhausted enough to fall asleep immediately, holding Sara in your arms.

You were awakened by the sound of the door opening. Had you forgotten to lock it? You suddenly panic, gently placing Sara’s still-sleeping form into her crib before tiptoeing into the hallway, colliding with your best friend, Bora.

“Did I not lock the door?” you blurt in shock.

She looks you up and down. “No, you did,” she reassures, her worried look intensifying. “I’ve had a key for five years.”

You deflate in relief. “Right,” you say aimlessly, looking at her. “Okay. Um…coffee?”

“Girl, I should be making you coffee,” Bora said. She put a hand to your forehead. “You’re ill, sweetheart.”

You blink at her. “I am?”

“Undoubtedly,” she confirms, leading you back to your bedroom. “Don’t worry about Sara. I’ll be here all day, so you just rest, okay?” She nearly pushes you onto your bed, and pulls a blanket off the floor to tuck around you.

You take stock of yourself. Head aching -- that wasn’t new. Eyes dry and puffy -- same as always. No, the only difference you could tell from last night is a hollow, cavernous emptiness in your chest where the clawing agony used to sit. Right on cue, the numbness has begun to engulf you.

You pass the day in a haze, only briefly aware of the activities of Sara, who at seven months old is only fussy around strangers when it gets dark, and your friend. You simply lay there in bed, not sleeping despite your tiredness, not even able to muster up the energy to reach for the food Bora brings you at midday. In fact, the sun is setting before you’re able to become conscious, sitting up and rubbing at your stinging eyes as Bora comes in to check on you.

“What about Morrie and Cal?” you ask her, referencing Bora’s own daughter Morna and her husband Calvin. “Did you really leave them all day?”

Bora nodded. “Yeah, Cal’s got it. Which is what I wanted to talk to you about.” She brushes your hair out of your face in a motherly way. “You need help here.”

“I’m not getting married anytime soon, Bo,” you say dryly.

“I’m not talking about marriage,” she says. “I’m talking about a nanny.”

You bite your lip. “Are you saying I’m bad at motherhood?” you ask, and if you could sound hurt through all the nothingness you feel, you’re sure you would.

“No,” Bora says gently. “I’m saying you didn’t bargain for motherhood on top of dealing with your grief, and you still have a whole life ahead of you that needs your attention, outside of this apartment. You have a job you love that you really need to get back to -- for you, sweetheart, not for the company, because I know that the work you do makes you happy. You need more time like that, more time for you. I know there’s a big difference in the circumstances, but when I became a mother, having Cal as a partner made it really easy for me to do things outside of the house that gave me purpose. It really helped me get a handle on myself outside of motherhood so that I could maintain a healthy relationship with Morrie without resenting her or losing myself. And honestly, you need that. We all do. And since marriage isn’t the move right now, and you have the means, a nanny might be the best possible thing for you.”

You nod slowly. “So they’d just come watch Sara while I’m at work?”

She nods. “They can be here as much or as little as you want.”

“Okay. How do I make sure they’re not a child snatcher or a pervert?”

Bora snorts. “Well, I’d recommend interviewing them so that your spidey-senses can alert you to any potential creeps,” she advises.

“I’m tired just thinking about that,” you groan. The phone begins to ring, and you check the ID — it’s your head editor, Cory.

You answer. “Hey,” you say, trying not to sound as dead inside as you are. “What’s up?”

“How are you doing?” he asks, his tone hesitant. This was one of the worst parts of tragedy, you thought to yourself: the awkwardness. Suddenly there was no comfort anywhere. Nobody knew what to say to you, or how to address the event, so everyone skated around it and you in a cautious dance of embarrassment and pity. Part of you wishes someone would just acknowledge it -- “so, your sister is dead,” and then move on.

“I’m fine,” you lie. “I should be back to work...soon. I just need to find a nanny for my niece.”

“Oh, that’s...that’s good,” Cory says, sounding surprised. “I wasn’t actually calling about that, I was actually just...worried about you.”

You sigh. “Everybody is, Cory. But I’ll pull through this. I always do.”

“I know,” he says, “and I trust that you will. I just...wanted you to know that we’re -- that I’m thinking of you.”

You try to feel curious about his choice of words, but can’t muster the energy to care that much. “Thanks, Cory,” you say. “I’ll let you know if I need anything.” Another lie, but the last one you feel compelled to tell him. “Bye.”

Bora is looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “He seems friendly,” she says, and through the haze that seems to coat your brain you know she’s making an implication.

This is yet another thing you don’t have the energy to address right now, so you don’t. “So, I need to interview nannies.”

“Well, you could also have your assistant do it,” Bora offers. “She’d lay on train tracks for you. I’m sure she’d do a good job.”

The corner of your mouth twitches as you think of making Emily, your eager assistant, vet nannies for Sara. She was young and enthusiastic and proactive, and she’d do a great job. “I think that’s a good idea,” you say. “Thanks, Bora. I know I haven’t been -- well, I know you have better things to do than worry about me, and I’m s--”

“Don’t you dare finish that thought,” she says, holding her manicured hand up to silence you. “You have people around you who care about and love you. Me included. This is the time where you need to lean on those people. And we all want that.”

“Thank you,” you say again.

“Eat,” she says sternly. “I need to get home, but I refuse to leave Sara with you until you’ve got food in your body.”

You wrinkle your nose at the idea of putting something in your mouth and chewing, but you realize that Bora’s made you some kind of thick, creamy soup that requires nothing but small sips. It’s easy to eat, and before you know it, despite not really tasting it as it passed through your lips, you’ve finished the bowl. Bora nods approvingly, leaning in and kissing your forehead before standing up to leave. “I love you, sweetheart,” she says. “Call me in the morning, okay?”

And with that, she leaves.

***

Six days later, you’re somewhere that you never expected to be at this point -- at dinner with your friend Gwen and her husband, Chan. Bora had showed up, instructed you to get ready, and taken Sara home with her as the couple had showed up at your front door. “You need a night out,” she insisted as you halfheartedly protested.

You had taken her advice and asked Emily to start interviewing nannies, but so far, her search for someone who could be there during your required time period and had the right background checks and qualifications had come up with very few results. This was a bit disheartening, but you hadn’t really given up yet, hoping someone would pull through for you. If you believed in God at this point, you’d probably pray for it.

These are the thoughts that are consuming you at dinner with your friends, when you’re supposed to be listening to them talk. They, gratefully, are a comforting pair, who make a point not to look at you with the customary pity. Instead, they ask about work and Sara and even about your thoughts on how the funeral had gone, which is kind of a relief -- none of that timid skirting around the big, ugly elephant in the room. Maybe this openness they’ve pulled out of you is the reason you feel you can speak to them about your current issue. “Actually, I’m trying to get back to work,” you say. “Those bills aren’t going to pay themselves. The only issue is, I need to find a nanny for Sara, but my assistant has been having trouble finding someone who fits the bill,” you explain, picking at the food in front of you.

To your surprise, Chan’s eyes light up. “I might know a guy. He used to work with me, and he just moved back here after awhile.”

You stare at him. “Chan, aren’t you a federal officer?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says.

“Why would a federal agent want to work as my nanny?” you ask him.

“Former federal agent,” he corrects you. “Turned nanny.”

“You know someone who quit being a secret agent to become a child-care worker?” you say in disbelief.

Gwen nods. “Actually, he’s really good. The family he was just with fell on some hard times, which is why he’s back now, but I think he might be looking for a new gig.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “You got the contact information for this guy?” you ask Chan.

“Yeah. His name’s Mingyu. I’ll forward the info on to Emily.”

“Thanks,” you say. “Really, Chan.” You allow yourself to hope for a moment, which provides just the right amount of energy to finish dinner and make your way back home. Once you’re inside your wreck of an apartment, which hasn’t been really cleaned since the accident, you lean heavily against the door, releasing a big breath.

You head to Sara’s room before realizing she’s still at Bora’s house. You text her that you’re home, and before you know it, Bora is handing a sleeping Sara back into your arms.

“She was really good today,” Bora whispers. “How was dinner?”

“It was...okay,” you say, and for the first time, you’re honest. For some reason, you feel like this Mingyu person is the one who’s going to stick, and that leaves you with a modicum of relief. A change is coming, and this one feels like it’s bound to be better than whatever you’re trying to do now. Bora leaves, and you go to the nursery -- the one room that’s intact and clean -- and sink into the rocking chair with Sara.

“Sometime soon, we’re going to have someone to help us out, Sara,” you promise. “I know this isn’t the life your parents probably imagined for you, but I’m going to try and give you something close to what they wanted you to have. I mean that.”

Slowly, you pull her off your shoulder to look at her cherubic little face -- at the black curls that surround her face, her long eyelashes fluttering in sleep. She’s a darling baby, but what you notice is something that penetrates through the cloud of numbness: she’s smiling, her little dimples so reminiscent of --

“Jeri,” you breathe, and a rush of warmth hits you right in your chest for a moment before it’s once again extinguished by your grief, like a flaming arrow shot into a dark, black lake. You suppose, as you hold her close to you once again, that in a way, Sara has immortalized your sister.

You fall asleep holding Sara, who for the first time since she became yours sleeps through the night.

***

You’re standing in your sweatpants, braless, your hair thrown haphazardly on top of your head, feeding Sarah some baby food as she babbles happily in her high chair, when the doorbell rings. You check your watch in disbelief -- it’s seven in the morning, which is the time you had asked Mingyu to show up for his first day of work. You’d never met him in person, although you had talked to him on the phone, and you’d wanted to make a good first impression. But then Sara had had a blowout, and you’d had to change your own sheets because she’d slept in your bed with you, and then you’d had to bathe her (it was that bad), and you were finally getting to feed Sara. You hadn’t even eaten yet, and you’d planned to be fully ready and put together by the time he arrived.

But there was no postponing this -- you couldn’t just let him rot on your porch. So you head for the door, praying Sara won’t throw the spoon on the floor as she has been wont to do recently, and look through the peephole. When you see him, the only thing you can do is whisper “shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.”

Because how could Emily not have told you that the man was beautiful?

And he isn’t beautiful in like, your everyday way either. The man on your porch is tall, probably dwarfing you by both head and shoulders, with a broad chest that pulled at the simple black tee he wears and arms that the pre-accident you would have swooned over. His hair is cropped short like a fed, and he is dressed practically, and yet, he was a god. There was no other way around it. You look down at yourself -- stained t-shirt, sweats with holes in embarrassing places, hair in disarray -- and shrug. There’s nothing you can do but pull the door open. “Hi,” you say. “Mr. Kim?”

“Yeah,” he replies, and he doesn’t seem to register your haggard appearance, just smiles. “I’m guessing you’re --”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Um, please come in.”

He does, carefully removing his tennis shoes and stepping into the entryway. “Sara’s in the kitchen. Probably throwing stuff.”

He chuckles. “She’s seven months?”

“Yeah,” you say.

“They do that,” he says conspiratorially.

It has taken you very little time to realize you might be in trouble. Mingyu’s smile is open and warm, his eyes full of life. He is nothing like the gruff, stern former agent that you were picturing in your head. You watch him crouch to greet Sara, whose face lights up at his friendly wave. “Hi, Sara,” he says, brushing a bit of blended squash off her nose. “You’re a cutie, that’s for sure.”

“I’m so sorry for the mess,” you can’t help but say. “It’s...it’s been insane.”

He looks up at you. “I get it. Your assistant kind of explained the situation. How are you holding up?” he asks.

You scratch the back of your head. “Well, Sara’s still alive, and that’s pretty much the extent of my current goals, so I guess we’re doing pretty well, all things considered.”

He nods sympathetically. “Honestly, great job. Becoming an instant parent can’t be easy.”

“I actually need to be at work at 8:30,” you suddenly realize. “Can I show you around? I’ll have to dash right afterward.”

“Yeah, sure,” he says, following you down the hall.

“This is the guest room,” you say. “It hasn’t been touched for a minute, but this is where you’ll sleep if we ever need you to stay overnight. I occasionally have business trips.” You lead him further down the hall and up the short staircase, opening the door to the nursery. “Right there is the bathroom. This is Sara’s room, so when she goes down for naps, this is where you can put her.”

You look at him, and his face is thoughtful as you point down the hall. “Door at the end is my bedroom,” you say, remembering what an absolute disaster it is. A blush rises in your cheek. “And please,” you say, going back down the stairs. “You can make yourself at home. Feel free to use the TV while Sara’s napping, or eat what’s in the fridge or pantry if you’re hungry.”

“Okay,” he agrees.

You pull out your wallet and hand him a card. “This one is for you. If you ever feel like eating anything or going somewhere with Sara, you can use this. I opened it for you specifically -- I figured it’d be easier than reimbursing you.”

He pockets it. “Sounds good,” he says.

You stand there, feeling awkward. “Well, I think that was all.”

He nods. “Go get ready,” he says reassuringly. “If I need something or have any questions, I’ll shoot you a text. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” you say in relief. “Thanks.”

You nearly sprint upstairs and jump in the shower. It takes you two minutes to do everything you need to do -- you’ve been taking micro-showers since you took Sara in, terrified that something would happen to her in your absence. Watching the time, you blow your hair dry, apply simple makeup, and change into a comfortable pair of black slacks and a white button-up. You arrive downstairs to see Mingyu at the sink with Sara, having sat her in the crook of his arm so he can wash her sticky face.

The sight of them warms your heart. “Okay, I’ve gotta dash,” you say. “Please, reach out to me if you need anything.”

He smiles. “I will. Drive safe.”

“Okay,” you say, bounding out the door and into your car.

The office hushes a bit when you walk in. They knew you were coming back today, but it must be surreal after the three months you’ve been gone, especially when this is your magazine -- you’re the only person at the company who’s been there since the beginning, because you started it. Cory is quick to hop to your side. “Hi, boss,” he greets. The rest of the office goes back to their activities as you enter your large, glass-paneled office.

“Hi, Cory,” you say. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he says, seemingly lost for any other words. “It’s good to have you back.”

“Thanks,” you say. “So, update me. Where are we at with the Serena Williams feature?”

“She was super understanding, and the publishers were too,” he says. “Ruby wrote a great piece, though, so as soon as we’ve got the green light we’ll start the launch. I’ve got Jojo on the social media build, and she’s got a two-on-one scheduled with us later to go over it.”

You nod in approval. “Okay, sounds good. I’m gonna contact Park Seojun’s agent today, so I’d like a list of writers you think could write that story well before our meeting with Jojo. I’m thinking we use someone in-house, but I’m open to contracting out if you’re worried people in the office already have too much to do.”

Cory gives you a thumbs up. “Got it,” he says, heading back to his desk.

You breathe in your office air, feeling some of the tension in your shoulders dissolve. You can’t say you’re happy, per se -- but you aren’t as empty as you have been. Bora had been right -- getting back to work is going to be good for you.

***

Toward the end of the day, though, you begin feeling a strange pull -- a pull toward home. You know Mingyu and Sara have been fine, because Mingyu has been texting you periodically throughout the day:

9:49

MG: hey, we’re out of wet wipes over here. do you have any extra boxes?

You: yeah they’re in your bathroom under the sink!

MG: okay I should’ve thought to check there, thanks! You saved my life haha

You: no worries! Is everything ok?

MG: yeah its good, no need to stress. Sara just needs a diaper change.

You: ok, sounds good! Thanks!

11:30

MG: sara reeeeeeeeeeeally likes pears

You: oh yeah they’re her favorite lol

He’d sent you a video of Sara screeching with joy as he put a spoonful of pear mush into her mouth.

MG: like i’ve never seen anyone so enthusiastic about pears

You: i love it when she screams at her food, that’s the best

MG: me too its so cute haha

1:43

MG: ok i forgot to ask

MG: how long are her naps supposed to be

You: tbh I usually let her sleep an hour or so...i should probably do research on what’s developmentally appropriate

MG: lmao nah i gotchu

Then a few minutes later:

1:52

MG: so apparently huckleberrycare.com suggests 2-3 hours of daytime sleep for kids sara’s age

You: damn, that’s a long time

You: well, i guess let her sleep? She might not stay down that long, but we can adjust her routine a bit to try and get her there

MG: sounds good. Is she a light sleeper? She’s on me rn and i don’t want to wake her up if i move her

You: oh no you can totally put her in her crib lol she won’t wake up

MG: ok thanks haha my arm was kind of going numb bc i was too scared to change positions lmao

You: hahaha yes you’re totally fine to put her in as soon as she goes to sleep usually

MG: great to know, thanks lol

And more throughout the day, littered with photos of Sara in varying states of ridiculousness. You found yourself actually smiling as each text rolled in, grateful for the updates, knowing you would’ve felt a lot more anxious if you hadn’t heard anything.

Still, you didn’t want to keep Mingyu waiting too long. He was supposed to get off at 6, and you wanted to make sure he didn’t feel like you were taking advantage of him. So you left work earlier than normal, beating the rush hour traffic and coming through the door to see Mingyu playing with your niece on the floor. He looks up at you as you come in and waves you over. “She rolled over just barely,” he whispers excitedly. “Watch!”

Sara struggles, whining a little bit, before rolling from her stomach to her back. You clap excitedly, lifting her from the floor into your arms and kissing her pudgy cheek. “Good job, Sara!” you coo, and she burbles happily, touching your face with a fat hand.

Suddenly, you notice something -- the house is clean.

“Mr. Kim,” you say slowly, “did you clean my house?”

He suddenly looks sheepish. “Uh, yeah, I did,” he says. “I’m sorry if that was...I don’t know, not my place.”

“Are you apologizing for cleaning?” you ask him, amused. “I feel bad you felt the need to do that! I shouldn’t have -- have let it get so bad.”

He gives you an extremely gentle look that you are sure he didn’t intend to make your knees go weak. “You’ve been through a lot recently,” he says. “I think you should be kinder to yourself. Also, there was a time when I was in college and living with roommates, and it was way worse cleaning up after some of them.”

“Well, at least there’s that,” you say, returning his smile with Sara propped on your hip.

You stare at him for a minute, and then shake yourself. “Well, I’m here now, so I guess you can...go?” You make a face at your phrasing. “I’m not trying to kick you out. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to stay past your hours.”

He chuckles. “It’s okay. I get you. Have a good night.” He heads for the door, calling over his shoulder. “Actually, I made some fried rice this afternoon. The leftovers are in the fridge. Help yourself.”

Your jaw drops. “Wait a minute, Mr. Kim,” you call after him, following him on his way out.

He turns around, smiling at your tone. “You can call me Mingyu,” he offers.

You nod. “Okay, Mingyu. You cooked, cleaned, and took care of Sara while I was at work?”

“Yeah,” he says, a laugh in his voice. “Is that so odd?”

“I never managed to do all three in one day,” you admit ashamedly.

“Well, I’m not mourning the loss of my sister,” he reminds you, and his voice is a bit stern. “That kind of thing takes a lot of energy.” He rests a big hand on your shoulder comfortingly before opening the door. “See you tomorrow.”

#whew #this is not the full fic #part two up in a week??? I hope???#seventeen #svt #svt fluff #svt fic #mingyu #mingyu comfort #mingyu fluff #domestic mingyu #svt x reader #mingyu x reader

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ieatangstforbreakfast · 9 months

Text

Pairing ೃ⁀➷ Earth 42! Miles Morales x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.

Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, eventual angst♡

Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ sorry for the delay, too busy girlbossing hehehe I made a closet for the reader, here’s the link || Her Closet

Chapter 3: To Dance For You, To Die For You

Warning ೃ⁀➷ Profane language, depression, family angst, plot progression, long ass chapter, reader lore, underaged smoking.

FIC MASTERLIST

Previous chapter || Next chapter

You || One hour ago

hey, u up already?

"… He sure is taking a while to answer."

You shut your phone with a click at the side, burying it down the sheets next to you.. "... I'm just gonna tell myself that he misses me so much, he can't put it to words."

You looked over to see the digital clock resting atop your nightstand, a bright 『 7:32 AM 』 gleaming right back at you.

… Maybe he’s still asleep.

It doesn’t take long before your attention drifts away from the subject. Unlike what Miles initially thought, you had priorities of your own. Sprawled before your table were books and notes you wrote all throughout your last lecture— neatly organized in pastels and glitters. You peered over the poorly written cursive, eyes cautiously and redundantly scouring through each word. Yet, despite the amount of time you've spent reading the paragraph, nothing at all entered your mind. That same suffocating scribble haunted you, and it sucked all the soul inside your body.

Saturday mornings.

Within the confines of your neat room, you still felt oddly and terribly exhausted. Which was ironic, as your routine was terrific as most would say. Ultimate Dream Girl was how your cousin put it. You woke up early, exercised, studied, ate good food, dressed in stylish clothes, went to school, and studied again after classes— and still, whenever you woke up every single day, you'd feel ultimately, and questionably exhausted.

It’s like you were sinking. Drowning even.

Yet you had to maintain your perfect, glamorous shell of a being. Even if it meant sleeping less these days.

But Miles took the boredom out of your humdrum life. Only he managed to tease out traits in you that even you didn't know existed— a bluntness paired with a foul mouth, and a sense of genuine lightness. He made you feel like your best self, and what was most ironic was the fact that your best self didn't have to be this talented, sophisticated, multi-achiever genius who managed to seamlessly shoulder adult matters— your best self just had to be happy.

And Miles made you genuinely, wholesomely, and incredibly happy.

Only Miles managed to eradicate the burden of carrying your family name. Around him, you were just you. A dumb, pretty teenager with a passion for art.

And that absolutely terrified you.

Peering over your books, spots of white shroud your vision. Like a feather, your head felt oddly light. You try to shake your head to refocus on the paragraph, only then you notice the blotches of red trailing down the page like splatters of paint.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Your fingers cascade over your nose, only then noticing the bloody mess running down your lip. You cuss, bolting off your seat to grab the tissue box sitting above the vanity.

“Miss?” One of the maids called out from outside your door.

You drag the sheets of tissue over your nose, muffling your voice as you answered. “What is it?”

“Your tango practice will start soon. Would you like me to prepare your clothes?”

“.. That would be nice, thank you.”

As her footsteps echoed away, you lull your head down, hand gripping onto the edge of your table. It gushed out like an open faucet, and this hammering in your head had you kneeling down to the floor.

“Oh my God, what is that?”

“Quickly, take a picture.”

“Get moving, people.”

The endless wails of the siren. Deafening, unyielding, and alarming. What was once the symbol of hope, was now all that silenced New York.

The lights of red and blue emanated through the streets like a ghost. Those who watched whispered among themselves, turning their heads from the glares of the officers who’d circled the establishment. Above the sign stood what was once the glory of Senator Barlowe’s billboard— now trashed with a chilling message spray-painted in bloody red.

『　ＮＥＶＥＲ　ＦＯＲＧＩＶＥ．

ＮＥＶＥＲ　ＦＯＲＧＥＴ．』

The police figured to take down the board, ushering the media and the people away. Though you can never truly silence the people, the people only learn to talk quietly. It’s how the world works, Miles thinks. You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you cannot fool all of the people all of the time.

His figure appears above the buildings like the menace all of upperclass society viewed him as— the emblem of his chest shining brighter at the bottom of the billboard. A shameless warning from the vigilante. A warning for the oppressive, a threat for a threat.

An eye for an eye. A life for a life.

Miles dreamt of it: losing you the same way he lost his father.

An image of you dying in his arms. The stain of your blood in his hands, and the touch of your body growing colder. As he held you close in that illusion, he felt your heart slowly easing to an inevitable stop. There, Miles knew he couldn’t bear the thought of losing another person to the wickedness of the system.

So he plotted.

The digitalized purple of his mask gleamed in the foggy morning, the fingers of his gauntlet gripping on the empty can of red paint in his palms, crushing it with a single gritty grasp. Miles looked at his masterpiece, the image of the man’s face all painted in red. He figured to beat the old thing up himself, had he had the chance— but New York won’t change from the decision of one vigilante. The people have to wake themselves up, to untie the blindfold of fear around their eyes.

Because once that fear fully unfolds, it’s never going to blind you again.

You || Five hours ago

hey, u up already?

Still no reply.

"From the top in three, two, one!" Marks the start of the bandoneon.

Emerging from the band, you approached the center with steady, elegant steps. Your heels clack against the wooden floors, the hem of your dress tickling your ankles. Your hands gently glide down your body along to the dramatic rhythms of the orchestra. Across the room stood your partner, reaching a hand out while circling your presence— as if to admire your entirety.

"Step, step, step. Spin!" The choreographer bellows. The boy reaches for your hand and spins you into his arms, dipping you down. Your fingers paint the floor with one swipe, head down to feign shyness. When you're brought back, your hand glazes down his cheek, stepping back with his arm wrapped around your waist.

"Keep your head high, shoulders back!"

In the passion of the tango, your grace was your skill— yet your indifference was your detriment.

Your hand steadily grips his shoulder, each step like a tease in average courtship. In the midst of the music, your head's riddled with a million thoughts. With each passing thought, your moves become harsher, and meaner.

Grip tighter, moves sadder.

With each pass of the violin, the knot in your mind tangles and tangles. While gawking into the stage light above, you shut your eyes tight to shield your view. And when your partner's fingers brush against the curve of your waist— you think of Miles.

The memory of his grip on you was forever ingrained in your mind. And when you turn around once more, suddenly, in your hazy mind, Miles stands before you, holding your hand above your head to ready you for a twirl.

In the delusion of your comfort, a sense of ardency replaced your indifference.

Madame Eleanor marveled at the view of the spark before her, glowing like a vibrant vermillion.

But as the final pose commenced, you were disappointed to see a pair of blue eyes instead of Miles' brown ones.

"Perfect!" Eleanor gasps, her hands clasped together with a clap. "Finally! My goodness, how astounding."

You awkwardly pull away from your partner, your body drenched in sweat. Eleanor approaches you with a smile too wide for her cheeks. "That was amazing, dear. All four weeks of practice finally paid off." She sighs, placing a hand over your shoulder. "You dance just like your mother."

The words were harmless initially, but to you it was anything but praise.

You fake a smile. "Thank you."

"I think we've done enough today. Let's wrap it up and call it a day. Great job, everybody!"

Only then the burden was eased off your shoulders. Immediately, you walk towards the bench to reach for your backpack. You dip your hands inside to fish out for your phone, a variety of notifications written across the screen.

Despite the many notifications and boxes your phone bore, you endlessly scrolled down in search of one name and one name only.

Miles || 7 minutes ago

ye im up sorry ab that

kinda busy rn

what time r u gonna go btw

You look around in search of the clock, girl-mathing your way to fix your schedule.

You || Just now

maybe around 6?? idk yet, hold on

nvm maybe around 6:30 to 7:30

You had a lot on your plate, and though you were full, you still have to devour all of what's on there.

Before you could even shut your phone, Miles' text bubble suddenly pops up.

Miles replied to you || Just now

js be on time

[Y/n] replied to you || Just now

damn u must miss me sm ;)

Miles looked over his phone from behind the screen of his mask— allowing it to unfold as he hid behind the brick walls above the roof, sinking down to the floor in exhaustion. Even then, he felt utterly warm just from the sight of your message alone. With a single press, he slips his hand off from the gauntlet just to hold his phone better.

He lolled his head sidewards, pondering over what to reply.

『 so what if i do?| 』

His thumb brushes against the send button, mind in complete tatters.

"... Hey." His head perks up at the sound of his uncle's voice. "What’chu doin lyin around? Get yo punk ass up, we’ve got lots to do."

"Y-Yeah, sorry." He stammers, slipping his phone into his pockets.

You glare at the screen before you.

「 Seen two hours ago 」

Well, fuck damn it, Miles. If you don’t miss me, might as well just say it. Does the G in your name stand for Ghoster or what?

“Are you even listening to me?”

You snap away from the abyss when the sound of your brother’s voice pulls you back to reality. The smoke exits your tongue as your eyes go past the black screen, welcoming the sight of your brother’s frustrated glare. His mere presence was an annoyance to you— as he was always scourging through your work like an animal desperate for scraps. It was pathetic. Despite all that, the both of you still managed to live under one roof.

It was your most common hobby to hang around the balcony to drink whatever beverage you felt like drinking. And at this time of autumn, hot cocoa was your most preferred drink, paired with any pastry you craved. As miserable as you were, you preferred suffering in your wealth. After all, it was yours to keep.

And yet despite your efforts to unwind, your pest of a brother suddenly appears like an unwanted guest.

“Can you stop smoking?” He pleads. In spite of his cries, you take another hit and blow. Antonne only gives up with a disgruntled groan.

“Did you see my message?”

“I did.”

“… Why didn’t you reply?”

“I did reply.” You pulled the mug to your lips. “I replied with silence.”

“You’re insufferable.” He clicks his tongue, sitting before you. Even then, you spare no time to even glance at him. Your other hand traces past the notes you’ve written over the documents, fingers flipping through the pages for a triple-check. Antonne stretched his neck, taking a peek at the title, and yet, you rest your palm over the private contents decisively.

“What do you want?” The sentence comes off too harshly for your own liking, yet it doesn’t shake you. Antonne insists.

“I want us to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

The mug clicks against the marble table as if to mark the end of your words. Antonne clasped his hands together, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. “I know it’s a difficult task, but direly, [Y/n], in all seriousness, you’re not inheriting the hotel.”

“I already know all that.” You interject. “And I still won’t drop my responsibilities.”

“What for?” He queries. “You’re bound for a life outside of all this mess— why do you keep bringing yourself into this life?”

You clamp your fist.

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

Antonne sat there, all the words in his mouth vanishing— leaving only a speechless, baffled face of himself that only worsened your mood. For a moment, his jaw hangs open, his mind ravaging through his thoughts to form a sentence.

“I don’t understand. Why— why are you doing this?”

For a moment, the thought of bursting crosses your mind, though right after the thought followed this shame of vulnerability. After all that, the only words that exited your mouth were,

“You would never be able to understand.”

“Can’t you at least—“ Antonne huffs, running a hand through his hair. “[Y/n], if this is about what happened to mother—“

“Mention her one more time, I dare you.”

Ruthless. A familiar air. You were too much like your father, and it was the most tragic thing. “It’s true, isn’t it?” He chokes out, knuckles growing paler from the grit of his wrist. “All this, all of what happened, you’re—“

“I have a meeting with dad.” You stand up, picking your things together. “Go find someone else to plague with your questions.”

“You’re irredeemably suffocating.”

“We’re siblings for a reason.”

Miles || Just now

im On my way!

wtf is that autocorrect

i meant to say im omw

im just gonna pick up something for a moment

The bell sang a soft chime upon his entrance. The warm air welcomes him, with a fire behind the bars of a furnace, and the smell of freshly baked goods and hot chocolate permeating throughout the establishment. Miles felt the chill of autumn roll off his gloved hands, embracing the warmth that felt very much like you. He peers over the aisles of bookshelves lined up before a fake brick wall, picturing the idea of sitting next to you with your nose buried into some novel, allowing him to lean his head over your shoulder to listen to you whisper about some paragraph.

He wanders and wanders, taking note of the chalk-written menu above the cashier, the half-eaten pies beneath glass domes, and the homely pictures of the owner’s life story hung all across the walls.

Next to the counter, a lone, middle-aged woman stood with a mug and a rug in her hands. Her blue eyes flit open— and it reminds him of the dull grey he often witnessed during a heavy downpour, and she acknowledged him with a single nod.

“Afternoon.”

Miles returns the gesture. “Afternoon, ma’am.”

His steps take him closer to the counter. It must’ve been suspicious somewhat— him, who was dressed in tones of dark purple and black like some thief, standing by the entrance for far too long. Miles had to admit, his presence was unbefitting of this whole cozy theme, and yet when he imagines you there with him, suddenly, he didn’t feel all too out of place anymore.

Miles looked at the woman, only then recognizing her from the pictures on the wall. Instead, now, she’s aged past her prime, and her blonde hair was shorter and frizzier. Her eyes were now tucked behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses, having to squint just to study his presence.

“I-I just had to ask..” Miles gulps. “Are you guys perhaps.. Hiring r’now?”

“Hiring?” The woman raised a brow. “Why? You wanna apply?”

“Oh no! Not me,” He frantically explained. “I-I’m inquiring after my girl— my girlfriend.”

Embarrassment bled into his freckled cheeks. Initially, he wanted to say the two terms, girl and friend, separately to explain you were just that (But were you, really?), instead the unsure label clumsily exited his lips.

Then again, it’s not like you’d correct him had you been there anyways.

“Your girlfriend?” The woman placed a hand over her hip, a southern sort of twang in her voice. “Why isn’t she the one asking me?”

“Oh— it’s just, she’s really busy, and I know she really likes this place.. God… Idonreallyknowhowtoexplainitbut,” She held a hand up to ease his pace, shaking her hand. “Hold on, lover boy. I can’t understand a single damn thing, hold your horses.”

Miles nibbled on his lower lip, taking a deep breath. “Okay. Basically, she mentioned about wanting to apply here but couldn’t find the time to ask, so just in case her schedule clears up, I wanted to know if you guys are up to hiring part-timers… So I can tell her.” He managed to explain in a much calmer way, watching carefully as the owner hummed.

“So you only really wanna ask?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, alright.” For a moment, she bends down to reach something beneath the counter. A second or two later, she stands right back up, slipping a crisp flyer towards him. “All the details are in there. If she wants to apply, tell her to call for me— the name’s Matilda, and you’re?”

“Miles, a-and my girlfriend’s name is [Y/n], by the way.” Miles beams, picking up the paper. He liked repeating that word, girlfriend.

“Alright, Miles. I’ll wait for your little girlie.”

“Thanks a lot.”

Looking over to the glass domes, Miles then added.

“Also, can I get like a slice of each pie you have?”

You || fifteen minutes ago

I’m already here

where the fuck are you smh

“One, two, three… Spin.”

Miles shuts the chain door behind him, eyes rummaging through the darkness in search of the voice’s owner. At the end of the hall, a dim light emerged along with a shadow dancing over the golden circle just behind a wall. The dark figure moved like a ghost, each step of her feet echoing throughout the subway. The boy neared like a moth to flame, holding the box of pies close to his chest as he neared and neared.

Slowly, he peeks over the wall, only to find you dancing along to something he couldn’t comprehend. You had your phone in your hand, and your headset on too. A count was on your lips, lasting in intervals of three to eight. Your steps were like pulses, and the way you had your hands up meant that it was likely a partnered dance, despite the evident gap, you carried the dance effortlessly well, even in a pair of jeans and a hoodie. You were too lost in the flurry of the Latin music that was melting into your ears like honey, and Miles was too lost in the sight of you. There he was, gawking like a little kid on Christmas day, with his lips half parted and eyes following the traces of your fingers.

He’d already known you were something of a dancer. The way you carried yourself, the way you walked, and the way you moved, Miles noticed it all; A sort of grace, or some sort of flow in the way you presented yourself.

Like a princess, little girls would say.

Yeah, like a princess. My princesa.

Only then, you twirled and met his gaze. You froze in terror as Miles placed his hand over your shoulder.

Do it, Miles! You can do it! Just like what Uncle Aaron taught you.

“Heyy…”

“… WHAT THE FUCK!”

Your phone comes flying out of your hands, landing straight into Miles’ abdomen with a powerful thud. He catches the gadget with a groan of pain and laughter, which comes out as a dying wheeze. You rush to his aid, pulling the box out of his grasp and placing it down.

“Holy shit! Are you okay? Why the fuck were you standing there like a fucking skincrawler— fucking hell, Miles!” You endlessly cussed, aiding him by the arm.

“… I couldn’t help it.” He heaved. “You looked like one of those inflatable tube dancers, jesus— HAHAHAHAHA“ And he’s back to howling in your face all over again, falling to the floor like a duck in search of air. You click your tongue and swat his shoulder.

“I bet you can’t even dance.”

“Yeah, that makes the both of us.”

“Oh I hate you so much.” You shove him lightly before burying your face behind your hands.

“… Why were you dancing anyway?” Miles eased, eyeing the darkness. “And why didn’t you turn on the lights? The whole damn scene looked kinda apocalyptic.”

You knelt next to him, nails digging into the fabric of your jeans. “Well, I kinda have this tango performance at school and it’s in two weeks… I’m still not all that confident with what I’m about to present, so I’ve been working my ass off to perfect it.” You waved your hand around. “And about.. This... I couldn’t find the damn switch.”

He shakes his head in disapproval, placing his arm over his knee. “God, you’re hopeless.”

You tilt your head, lowering your voice into a whisper. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“…. I can dance tango.” He dumbly grins. “I think— I mean, I’ve watched it before, and I’m hella great with my feet.”

“Is that a proposal to dance with me?”

Miles scoffed. “In your damn dreams.” He laughs, leaning his head over to the wall. There, you pout at him like some little kid.

“What? Why are you lookin at me like that?”

And the next thing he knows, he’s up with his chest pressed against yours, listening to the sound of your voice guiding him through the basic steps of the Latin dance. He takes your other hand in his, while your other is latched onto his shoulder. Carefully, his fingers creep up on your waist, the sensation silencing him.

“And then when I step back like this, you take your left foot forward, and we’re just going to do this back and forth.”

“Oh— okay, oh shit,”

“Ow.”

“Sorry.”

“Just think of it as a game, and follow my feet.”

Miles readily follows your words, uttering subtle apologies whenever he’d step on one of your feet. When he does get the eventual gist of it, the two of you prance around in short steps. Miles grew overly conscious with the sound of his breath, as you were too near that it was detrimental to his whole being. With your head down, you carefully watched his moves, completely anonymous to Miles’ staring. He was hoping you’d look up and catch him like you always do. You were so pretty like that.

“Very good.” You beam. “Damn, you really do dance well, huh?”

“Of course I do.” He clumsily twirls you into his arms, still catching you either way. “I got it from my mama.”

“I assume she’d be a greater dancer than you, though.”

“Well, yeah, that’s true.” He admits. “But hey, ain’t I a good partner?”

As you turned around once more, your faces inch closer, your lungs a little too short of breath. Your hand traces down the outlines of his arms, the tension between the both of you thickening. You could almost sense it, Miles begging you to give in, and you were bound to— eventually.

“Yeah, you’re doing great.”

Then again, you pull away, fingers brushing past and slipping away from his palm. Although you were the one distancing yourself, your hand reached out for his. You tried to fool yourself into thinking that it was just for the dance— but when you circle him, and when you notice that Miles couldn’t help but face your figure, no matter where it went— you were defenseless. He looked at you like you were the eclipse, a shadow that capered around the flashlight’s gleam like how the moon would collide with the sun. You swivel back into his grasp, and you couldn’t care less if it was anything but perfect, because it was only at that moment that you recognized tango in its truest form.

And it was through this dance that Miles realized he’d absolutely die for you.

As the ending commences, the two of you smile at one another. Miles, who grinned at you so lovingly, could hardly see the rue in yours. “You ain’t half bad.” He then states, easing a crack out of his limbs as he stretches. “That was some ground-breaking exercise, shit, I started feelin shit I ain’t never felt before.”

“Yeah,” You tiresomely added. “God, now I’m starving.”

His head perks up. “Actually, I brought some food today.”

“Oh?”

He gestured over to the box. “I bought like a fuck ton of pies for my mom to cheer her up.” Miles picked up the box, offering it to you with a nudge. “You can get only two.”

As he slips the lid off, you marvel at the pastries inside, mouth watering from the smell.

“This one’s butterscotch, blueberry, apple.. Chocolate and banana, pumpkin, and cherry… The fuck are you doing?”

Miles watched as you positioned your phone above the box, angling it well. “Taking a picture, dumbass.” You shot back. The flashlight gleams over the food with a quick snap. “Shit, it looks so pretty.”

“Okay, you ain’t eating shit.”

“Wait!”

You point the camera at him. “Pose in three, two, one.”

And he pulls up his middle finger with a blank face.

“Tsk. Not like that, Miles.”

And he pulls up his pointer finger, turning his pose into a peace sign.

As the photo snaps, you immediately look into your phone’s album, grinning stupendously wide. “Pretty boy, indeed.”

“.. Why’d you keep calling me that?”

“Because you’re pretty. I like pretty things and pretty people.” You answered as though it were too obvious. Miles shook his head, hardly saying another word. Yet in his mind, he couldn’t help but ponder.

But you’re prettier than me.

“Now, which one should I eat?” You pondered with a tune, eyeing each slice. “They all look so good.. God! Okay, I’ll take butterscotch, and uh, the chocolate and banana one.” You cautiously tug the wrappers to pull out each of the treats. Miles couldn’t help but playfully deride. “You choose like a kid.”

“Just because I chose the chocolate one means I’m a kid.”

You take the flashlight and place it down the floor before taking a seat. Miles follows suit, sitting beside you with his chin resting above his palm, unconsciously watching you devour the treat with your cheeks full like some chipmunk. You hummed with each bite, going on about how you adored the flavor. Even as you did so, Miles listened and stared, adoring the way you spoke and the way you boasted about the flavors. Then and there, he realized how much he liked seeing you eat, and at that moment as well, Miles knew he’d like to eat with you everyday in the far future.

As you finished your little meal, you licked the chocolate off your fingers, anonymous to the stain on your cheek.

“You got a little sum on your..” He points at the corner of your lip. You try to wipe it off, yet it simply smudges. His fingers naturally reach for your chin to clean it off. You lean in, not thinking much about the act.

“Is it gone?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.” You sweetly beam.

Slowly, his fingers lift away from your chin.

You lean your head against the wall, heaving a short sigh. “That was absolutely delicious.”

“I bought it from that store we saw yesterday, down the block.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and uh,” He slips his hand into his pocket, fishing out the folded flyer. Hesitantly, he hands it over to you. “I got you something.”

“What’s this?” You airily query, unfolding the paper. You browsed into its contents, only then realizing that it was a part-timer flyer. Your jaw hung open, eyes switching glances between the contents and the boy beside you. “Wh-where did you get this?”

“I asked the owner.” He directly answered. “You wanted to know if you could.. Get a part time job, so I asked.”

“I—“ The mere act rendered you speechless. “Oh my god. This is… Why are you so nice to me?”

Miles’ head turns away. “I’m not being nice. I wanted to apply too.” He smoothly lied. “I got you a flyer just in case.”

【 Emilie Chocolat — We are now hiring! Open positions for: bookkeep, barista, cashier. Accepts part-timers. Must be at least fifteen years old. 】

“Oh, I don’t know if I could apply right now.”

“Why not?”

You chew on your inner cheek, cautious of your words. “I don’t really have the time to go to an interview right now. I’m very busy with school.. And at home..”

“Then go when you have the time.”

You think about it. “… Alright. I’ll try. Not entirely sure yet, but I’ll try.”

“Take your time.” Miles mildly suggested, as if to comfort. “You have all the time in the world, man.”

“… Yeah.”

You’d like the think his words were true. When it came to Miles, you find yourself a little too optimistic— a parallel of your usual self. You’d joked to yourself every now and then, that if the world was ending and Miles would tell you that there’s a cure, you’d believe him. And it wasn’t that you were easy to fool, no, it wasn’t that at all. You were quite smart, as mentioned by all those who watched you grow up, but since Miles’ entry into your life, you started optimistically letting things fall into place before scheming.

You didn’t know what to call it. Calling it infatuation was underwhelming for you. To say you simply like him didn’t feel enough.

Though you didn’t want to admit it too quick.

That’s how your mother fell anyway.

“Do you think,” You huff. “Do you think I can do it?”

Miles straightened his lips. “You probably can. You’re smart.”

You roll your eyes. “How’d you know?”

“Ion think someone dumb can lie so well about having band practice just to see someone at night.”

“I don’t lie often, Miles,” Your head lilts. “I lie only for you.”

“… By that, does lying to me also count?”

You don’t know how to answer. You can feel his expectant stare burning into your skin.

“…. It’s not about lying to you. There are just some things I prefer not to say.”

Your head pivots, finally earning the strength to look him in the eyes. Before he could even speak, you already knew what he was going to say. You knew him too damn well.

“If that’s the case, can I ask you about somethin?”

As you’re about to open your mouth, he holds up a finger.

“Don’t try to run away this time, and don’t lie. You’ve gotta swear on it.”

You raise your hand. “On God, I won’t lie nor will I try to run away.”

He brokenly nods, taking in a deep breath.

“… Then, who– who am I to you?”

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derww · 21 days

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i want to say few words about the players.

their history is full of failures and difficulties, it was never easy for them, but they continued to adapt to new conditions over and over again and look for other ways to achieve their goal. they've jspent an insane amount of time on all of this, and it's impressive.

having started somewhere there, after abyss arc, having lost their way and direction, they found their identity and what they were ready to fight for. neither external nor internal problems ever left them, but they still finished this race together.

the motivation of the players is the torch, which they lit for each other. their whole arc was an arc of struggle – not only for achieving their goal, but also for simple survival, when even they themselves did not believe in success, when they lost the key components of what they were, they still continued to move forward no matter what, and eventually got their good ending.

the very fact how they got this ending, literally crawling out of the chunkban, perfectly embodies everything they are in their own way. no matter how difficult the situation is, they kept going forward because they don't have the right to give up.

i was really glad to see everyone so motivated. i was glad to see bacon with them despite his early ban, i was glad to see zam rooting for everyone, i was glad to see mapicc playing in the windows before parties and graduations and fighting with concussion, i was glad to see ro, who continued to push forward despite the terrible game of exhaustion.

and I was especially happy to see clown – he was not in the original team and at first it was difficult for me to believe him, but he was motivated and locked in so much that it caused only admiration. two days of waiting at the pb&j base, grinding crystals right before the finale... he showed himself to be the true player, and i was very happy to see him really dedicated to the team and their ideas. and, of course, it was wonderful to see that their bond with branzy is still strong. it's beautiful.

sometimes it was physically painful to watch them, but looking back, i'm glad it happened. they made a very good team. back in january, just starting abyss arc, bacon, zam and mapicc were looking for two more members to make a full-fledged team, and it took them another whole arc to find the remaining two people for this five. it is especially ironic that both ro and the clown, just like jumper, were their enemies before that.

i am glad to see such a finale. they're great. they won. and they absolutely deserved it. happy finale!

p.s. honorable mention: dear ally (-teammate?) of the players, wemmbu. it's interesting how he stayed true to their union in his own way, more because of the circumstances than because he felt he had to. zam said that wemmbu changed his mind about making his video about what happened, and it's sad – because his pov must be just incredibly interesting, because he put just some crazy amount of everything into this arc and just because it would definitely be a very cool video. but very understandable.

lifesteal tends to go wrong, and even a small problem can devalue a potential video for you, and there are so many things that went wrong, topped by the fact that your own plugin was turned against you. it remains for us to collect a picture of what happened in the future through the contributions of everyone else, and i hope that wemmbu has not lost the motivation to play on the ls as a whole.

#hope clown will be cool and active in s6 too! hes so amazing #im gonna miss devotion duo being on one team #4 am man. please don't quarter me while i'm sleeping #lifesteal smp #lifesteal #princezam #mapicc #baconwaffles0 #roshambogames #clownpierce #d.thoughts

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misc-obeyme · 1 year

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MC has Insomnia

This was a suggestion from @oakley-tree1 for an MC who has insomnia. I mostly went with the idea that this is a temporary sort of insomnia due to stress or anxiety. Thank you for the request!

This is for the brothers and the dateables, but I didn't do Luke mostly because I am running out of time! D:

GN!MC

Warnings: MC has insomnia. Sleeping with the characters, but nothing sexual.

Lucifer

Notices that you always seem to be tired during the day. If you get circles under your eyes, he notices that, too. He will eventually pull you aside to ask you about it. If you try to brush it off, he'll get annoyed. Do you take him for a fool, MC?

If you don't tell him the truth, he'll figure it out anyway. Deliberately checks in on you during the night to see what you're doing. Finds you wide awake, scrolling on your D.D.D. or maybe even trying to finish homework.

Starts by giving you a lecture about the importance of sleep. Tell him that you would sleep if you could, but that you have insomnia. His solution is to make you some soothing tea. It actually makes you feel better, even if you still can't sleep.

Checks on you regularly at night after that. Brings you tea if he notices you're still awake. If you seem to be really struggling, he invites you back to his own room. Even if you still can't sleep in his bed, at least he'll be there to watch over you. In the end, Lucifer's presence is enough to make you feel safe and you'll eventually give in to the exhaustion.

Mammon

He certainly notices that there's something up with you. You're tired all the time and sometimes drift off in class. Are humans always this sleepy or is it just you? You're acting too much like Belphie and it's weirding him out a little.

Due to the fact that Mammon regularly spends his nights in your room, he soon figures out that you have a hard time sleeping. You're always awake all night and when you do sleep, you're waking up constantly.

Does his best to stay up with you. He wants to keep you company. Suggests you watch movies, tries to get you to relax. Will turn off everything and hold you close in the dark, hoping that you'll feel comfortable and quiet enough to sleep.

In the end, he's gonna fall asleep on you. Snuggles in close in his sleep. His warmth and the steady rhythm of his breathing might eventually lull you into slumber as well. If he wakes up the next morning to find you out like a light, he'll be proud of himself. Just leave it to the Great Mammon, MC!

Leviathan

Insomniac solidarity. We know this guy regularly stays up all night playing video games. There's no way he doesn't have some form of insomnia due to his already messed up sleep schedule. He gets you, MC.

If he finds that you're still awake, he will absolutely rope you into playing games or watching anime with him. He's an enabler. He's happy to have an all nighter buddy.

Despite all this, Levi knows humans need real sleep and let's be real, demons do, too. You might have to talk him into calling it a night, but if you offer to stay with him, he'll give in.

If being wrapped up in a small space helps you sleep, then Levi is your demon. The tub sort of necessitates being close together if you're both in it. But even if he spends the night in your room, he ends up wrapped around you. You're probably so exhausted from already being up all night, you might be able to feel yourself drift off under his comforting weight.

Satan

Definitely notices if you don't get enough sleep. Will take it upon himself to give you all the information about insomnia that he has, which is probably too much. This includes symptoms, treatments, and history.

After doing all that, though, he gives you real advice. Helps you come up with ways to combat the issue that actually make a difference. He's good at coming up with solutions and putting them into action, so he's here to help.

Will check on you throughout the night. Satan's a light sleeper, so if he's up already he will poke his head into your room to see if you're still awake. If you are, he'll invite himself in or insist you come back to his room with him. You need proper rest, MC. Let him help you.

Lulls you to sleep by holding you in his arms and reciting poetry or talking about some obscure magical knowledge. Keeps his voice low and slow. You can feel it reverberating in his chest. The sound and vibration might be enough for you to fall asleep.

Asmodeus

MC, darling, he has to know why you have such dark circles under your eyes! Have you not been getting enough sleep? You know that's not good for your skin! Hang on, he's got eye cream and moisturizer and face masks and… if you don't stop him, he'll go into full on spa mode. He's going to want to make sure your skin is glowing.

Don't misunderstand, though. He wants to address the underlying issue. If you let him pamper you, he's going to ask you why you aren't sleeping enough. What's going on? You can tell him anything, you know.

Once you've told him about your issues with insomnia, Asmo will absolutely insist that you spend every night in his room from that point on. You get to decide if you take him up on that offer, of course. If you don't, he'll make a point of coming to your room to give you some relaxing facial treatment before bed.

If you agree to stay with him, though, he attempts to help you relax even more. Might insist that you take a bath with him. Will give you a gentle massage. Knows that the scent of lavender is supposed to help humans sleep and employs lotions, candles, and other such aromatherapy to relax you. Holds you close to him in his bed. The softness of his skin against yours and the calming scent of lavender help you finally fall asleep.

Beelzebub

Notices that you're sleepy, but doesn't say anything about it. He's used to having someone sleepy around all the time. Though he does recognize that it probably isn't normal for a human like you, he doesn't want to pry. Only asks you about it when someone else brings it up.

Are you okay, MC? He's very serious when he asks you this. You can't help but tell him the truth about your insomnia. Listens carefully to everything you have to say about it.

He's going to suggest physical activity. He's heard that working out regularly during the day can help you sleep better at night. Will insist on you doing some form of exercise with him. If you are a person who doesn't like exercise, don't worry. He'll make sure you're doing something at your level and that it's something fun.

This may or may not work depending on what's causing your insomnia. Either way, he will also bring you foods he's heard help humans sleep. Maybe a midnight snack is exactly what you need. He'll follow you to your room after feeding you, to make sure it works. He'll stay with you if you ask. If you let it, the feeling of your full stomach and the strength of Beel's embrace will allow you to finally sleep.

Belphegor

Um, hello? This is his whole thing. If you haven't already asked him for help, he's going to be annoyed about it. You have to realize that he's the best demon to help you with sleeping issues, right? If you try to act like you don't want to worry him, he gets even more annoyed. Seriously, MC. Did you really think he wouldn't notice?

Since he's known about your problem from the start, he's really paying attention. He'll rope you into naps whenever he can, whether in the attic, his room, your room, or any other random place he can talk you into it.

He doesn't even need to do anything special, really. He just puts his arms around you and you're out. Every time it happens, you wake up feeling perplexed but refreshed.

If it's the middle of the night and you're up doing something, he'll know and come to find you. He might be okay with you staying up for a bit, especially if you go outside and look at the stars with him. But eventually he's going to insist that you go to sleep. You might resist, saying that you know it's pointless, that you'll only toss and turn and stare at the ceiling. Don't insult him. Belphie's going to make sure that you're able to sleep, deeply and well. He'll keep his arms around you all night and of course you wake up fully rested.

Diavolo

If he doesn't hear about your issue from Lucifer, he'll notice it himself when you're struggling to stay awake in class. He's heard of this, of course. Sleep deprivation is extremely bad for humans in many different ways. He wants to be sure that you're thriving while you're in the Devildom.

Confronts you about it directly. Tell him what the problem is, MC. He's going to do all he can to help you. If you try to brush it off, he'll be insistent. How can he be sure of your success if you won't tell him what's troubling you? He'll keep asking kindly until you give in. Listens intently as you explain about your insomnia.

Trouble sleeping, is it? Diavolo will immediately suggest you come stay at the Demon Lord's Castle for a while. Even if your insomnia has nothing to do with your location, he'll be able to look after you better this way. Doesn't even consider having you stay in a guest room. Keeps you in his own bed for as long as you're there.

Learns what could possibly help you and then tries them out one by one. Attempts various relaxation techniques with you. Maybe goes a little overboard. Tell him what works for you and he'll do whatever you ask. He'll stay up with you as long as you need. He'll be happy if you let him hold you close.

Barbatos

Nothing gets past this demon butler, he's going to notice pretty quickly if you're not sleeping well at night. Even if you hide it well, he can still tell. He'll confirm it with one or more of the demon brothers.

Of course his first go-to is tea. He's going to make you a special blend of his own creation. He did extensive research on what to include. It also tastes amazing. Includes desserts that are high carb but low sugar. Somehow they also taste amazing.

He's going to have to insist you stay at the castle for a bit, MC. He needs to make sure you're getting enough sleep. If you try to argue with him about it, he will smile while giving off a terrifying aura. You stop arguing immediately. You need to let him take care of you now. Humans need sleep to function well.

Even if you decide to stay in a guest room, know that Barbatos is going to be keeping track of you. He'll know if you're awake for any portion of the night. If he catches you wandering around, he'll bring you back to his own room. He makes sure you're comfortable in his arms and something about his calming presence is enough to help you fall asleep.

Simeon

Although he notices that there's something off about you, he will politely inquire of the demon brothers what it might be before making assumptions. He allows them to evade his questions until he gets fed up and demands the truth from Lucifer.

Approaches you carefully, but asks you about it directly. He wants to know what the issue is, so he won't just ask if you're having trouble. He'll want to know why. Is it anxiety? Stress? Some kind of medical condition?

If it's a problem with your mental state, he's ready to help you with that. Takes you to stay with him at Purgatory Hall. Doesn't even consider asking anyone, just does it. There's no doubt in his mind that being in the chaos at the House of Lamentation is not helping.

Takes care of you, of course, but in a subtle way. Listens to you when you explain what you need. Simeon's presence is calming and if talking out your worries helps you, you'll find it easy to tell him everything. He's a good listener. Takes the time to help you through anything you're dealing with. Stays up with you all night if you can't sleep still. Doesn't smother you with too much cuddling when you're in his bed. If you want that, you'll have to initiate. Either way, he'll hum soft gentle melodies to you until you finally drift off.

Solomon

Might not notice at first. He's so sleep deprived himself he might not recognize it as anything out of the ordinary. Isn't this just how all us humans are? Has forgotten that it is not normal. Someone eventually says something about it and he's like oh yeah no this is not normal.

Now he's worried about you. Doesn't wait for you to talk to him about it, but brings it up casually in conversation if possible. What's this about not sleeping, MC? He knows he really can't get on your case about it considering how bad he is about this same thing. But he can't help worrying. Let him help you, please.

If you allow him to, he'll try using magic to help you out. Gives you potions, maybe even casts certain spells, or creates magic objects that are all meant to help you sleep. Most of these things have similar effects as sleeping pills, though, and you end up feeling groggy the next day.

He needs more information about how you're struggling, so he'll insist you stay with him overnight. Solomon will still be trying to problem solve, but if you open up to him about what's actually causing your insomnia, he'll listen carefully to what you have to say. He'll attempt to help you in any way he can. He eventually realizes just being there with you might be enough. Lay your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. With this and maybe only a gentle calming spell, you'll finally fall asleep.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #misc writes #request

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mixelation · 5 months

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i will also share with u the absurd toxicity (reborn au au (tm)) rpf lore developed with @waffliesinyoface

point one: obito would not be naturally drawn to fandom, but he IS a troll who likes absurd things, and it's important to him to know what's up with the people in his life. he has read the entirety of icha icha (more than once!) for the simple pleasure of sniping kakashi with a well-placed reference. when tori gets fixated on ninja rpf, he also obviously starts reading it so he can have fuel to tease her.

unlike kakashi's brand of obsession (which is PRIVATE, obito, WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS), tori's obsessions crave interaction. you want to talk rpf with her? she is going to drag you down into a terrible vortex of rpf fixations

obviously "driven to making insane decisions for petty reasons" tori is obito's favorite tori. he is SO supportive of her ongoing war against the sasori girls.

obvious outcome of point one: obito becomes a kakashi girl

tori is SO supportive of his psychosexual kakashi obsession. she thinks him working through his feelings like this is good for him. also she likes reading fic

obito is not well-liked in kakashi fan circles when he's writing in under a pen name because he keeps writing kakashi as a damsel in distress in constant need of rescuing due to chakra exhaustion. fangirls hate this because kakashi should be cool and badass all of the time???

point two (horrible realization): in this au, obito retains his uchiha pretty privilege. he's also the infamous loose canon of the yellow flash's students. there's ABSOLUTELY insane fic about him

obito's favorite ship is obviously him/kakashi, but NO ONE writes it right???

yes he and tori are dating. no she doesn't care he keeps looking up kakashi/him. she knows what she signed up for.

in fact, tori inspires him!! if tori can go hunt down a random sasori rpf writer to argue with her, OBVIOUSLY he can go have a converastion with some obito writers and gently push them in the right direction!!

but he has to do it cool and mysterious, see, so they get him. he shows up in the dead of night in his super dramatic madara personality. he just wants to talk. he gives a dramatic speech and throws in some killing intent for Effect

obvious outcome of point two: everyone stops writing obito fic because they're terrified.

tori: realizes there's still READERS for obito fic but no writers

tori: that's free real estate

she's converting. she's an obito girl now. (obito: babe that's SO sweet of you)

NO ONE likes her obito fics either because she writes him as a deeply pathetic whackjob who cries during sex. she gets multiple replies that are like "when will obito show up to murder THIS writer"

instead of being normal she's like "FYI he DID show up in my bedroom but that won't stop me because I AM NOT A COWARD"

third, miscellaneous point: obito is shunned by fandom when he's a faceless person writing in. at in person meet-ups, people love him despite his rancid opinions because he is hot. :'(

tori: PUT THE MASK BACK ON I HATE THIS

obito in kakashi cosplay??? with kakashi's real clothes he stole???

i thought about writing a joke about them going to an in-person fic exchange and people not realizing they're together to mirror the ANBU Party Debacle. however i do not think this is the mood for Torito because they cannot physically resist bothering each other for more than 90 seconds at a time. obito shows up holding her hand so he can swing their arms like literal children. if he doesn't pay attention to her for long enough, tori WILL tug his hair/loose clothing/etc. he attempts to sit in her lap at least twice. they're both super into the other person's rancid headcanons. they are so fucking obnoxious

no one ever matches obito-in-person with obito-showing-up-to-harass-fic-writers because of the insanely different personalities

people are okay with obito in person despite his personality because he is. hot. and a man. and they're a group of mostly women who are attracted to men. do you see? but they still fucking hate tori

a rumor starts that the reason tori can write bonkers obito fic without him murdering her is that when he showed up to threaten her over it, she slept with him. so not only is she annoying, but she cheated on her hot boyfriend (obito) with famous ninja uchiha obito! she doesn't deserve either of them!!!

(obito: that's exactly what happened tho. i gave you my super cool and scary "write better fanfic" speech and you slept with me. <3 / tori, who will never EVER admit she found his stupid "madara" personality kind of hot: (tea kettle noises))

#reborn au au: it's gotten sillier #the torito content you crave!

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snippychicke · 9 months

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A Quick NSFW Moment

So, uh, who wants some rather short smut with a bit a plot should i want to come back and write some more?

Look, I have have trouble writing PWP. And if you haven't noticed, I am a bit obsessed with Klahadore|Kuro from One Piece right now. And there is like, very little. Especially when it comes to smut.

So here. Have some Klahadore|Kuro/fem!reader smut. Rating Explicit, obviously. Also quickly written, so don't expect too much.

The sun was hanging low outside the window of the manor's sitting room, casting everything in a golden hue. It was a reminder that you would need to leave soon, though you stubbornly ignored it as you continued your conversation with Kaya. Being one of the girls your age--and the fact your parents had been business partners with hers-- meant you had become close friends despite the fact you were a few years older. You loved taking an afternoon off every once in a while to visit, bringing tea to share while you caught up.

(You reasoned you were allergic to her special tea as it often made you feel quite ill for a few days, thus why you always brought your own.)

Kaya, however, noticed the sun setting, and her wide smile started to fade. "You'll have to go soon, won't you?"

"Yeah," you acknowledged as you set your cup down on the table. "But… I did want to talk to you about something."

"Oh?" She tilted her head, mimicking your movements as she placed her own cup down.

"Well, you know how I've started my own business. And well, it's outgrown the little workshop in my family's store. So, I've been looking for somewhere else…"

Kaya's blue eyes became stricken, "No. Don't tell me you're leaving? I-I don't know if I could…"

You reached across and grasped her hands. "No, I'm not moving away, per say. I've actually been talking with Klahadore, and there's plenty of room in the east wing if--"

"Yes!" She interrupted, the dismay on her face quickly becoming excited. "Oh my--yes! Absolutely!"

Your grin quickly followed; you had presumed she would be agreeable, but you still had worried. After all, the east wing had been closed off since the death of her parents. "I'll talk with Merry and Klahadore about setting up rent for the space, and any other costs--"

Kaya stood and quickly pulled you to your feet and into a hug. "Oh shush, I don't care about any of that. Having you here more often, even if your working on your projects, is more than enough! You wouldn't mind if I sat and kept you company, would you?"

"Not at all," you assured, grinning as you squeezed her as tightly as you dared. She was such a small fragile thing, you often worried about accidentally hurting her.

You could feel the spasm in her back before she actually started to cough. You went from hugging to help her stay upright while she lost herself to the coughing fit.

Within an instant, another arm was braced around Kaya's shoulder while Klahadore offered the young woman a cup of her special tea. You hadn't even heard the butler enter, yet you weren't surprised in the slightest. The man could move as quiet as a cat when he wanted.

"I think that's enough excitement for the day, ladies," he chided softly once Kaya caught her breath. "I believe it's about time for our guest to leave anyway before it grows too dark."

Despite looking even more exhausted, Kaya smiled up at her butler. "Not our guest any more, Klahadore. Our friend and business partner."

Understanding crossed his face as he glanced at you, giving you a look that you weren't sure how to decode. "I see," he virtually purred, making your heartbeat quicken as he turned back to Kaya, his demeanor quickly returning to normal. Well, in any case, I think it's beyond time for you to get some rest, Miss Kaya. Do you need me to help you to your room, or…?"

Kaya waved him away. "No, I'm good."

"I could use some help finding my bag," you offered, stomach twisting. "I may have forgotten it in the dining room, and this place is such a maze…"

There was that look again. He knew what you were up to, and seemingly had the same line of thought if the way his eyes trailed down your body was anything to go by.

Subtle, enough for you to notice but not enough for Kaya to question anything. "Of course."

***

Klahadore did not lead you to the dining room, or at least he wasn't taking the most direct route. (You did know your way around at least the central areas of the manor after all.)

You weren't quite sure where in the manor you were, but frankly didn't care. Especially when you were suddenly pinned to the wall, Klahadore's lips attacking yours mercilessly.

If just a year ago someone had told you that you would be having an affair with Kaya's butler, you would have blushed but waved them away. Yes, you had already developed a crush on him, but hardly expected him to reciprocate it. As prim and proper as he always acted you presumed if you had confronted him about your little crush he’d politely turn you down.

If they had added on how ferocious of a lover he was, you would have called them crazy. Klahadore was a kind, patient, gentle man. Surely that would transition into his personal life.

Great Blue, no.

It was like he was a different man when it was just you and him. His lips were harsh and demanding as he pulled away the 'fashionable' scarf you wore to reveal the fading bruises along your neck and quickly began to renew the marks. Teeth nipping the tender skin before he sucked hard, pain and pleasure a sweet illicit mix.

You bit your lip, trying not to let the whimper escape your throat. You weren't sure how close the other two of the household staff were, or god-forbid, Kaya. But he felt so good. The hand not knotted in your hair made quick --careless-- work of the fastening of your blouse before cupping your breast.

"You tortured me all afternoon," he growled as his mouth worked its way up your neck to your ear. "As soon as I opened the door, I knew you weren't wearing a bra."

"You tore my last two," you managed to say as his fingers pinched and squeezed your hardened nipples, going from gentle, to rough to gentle again in a way that made you crazy. "They're not cheap, you know."

"I was hard all through supper," he growled, the fist in your hair tightening. "Barely unable to look at anything else besides you, unable to think about anything else but fucking you on every surface in there."

The need between your legs grew even more. You could easily imagine him shoving you up on the buffet, pushing your skirt around your hops and roughly taking you. Or bending you over the dining room table, one hand gripping the back of your neck as he entered you from behind.

"Please," you whimpered, your hands gripping the back of his jacket as you tried to grind your hips against his.

His hands suddenly gripped your thighs, picking you up. Your legs immediately wrapped around his narrow hips, and it was both a blessing and a curse to feel the bulge in his pants rub against your core. You moaned against his neck, placing butterfly kisses against the tense muscles.

"Such a naughty girl," he growled as he slowly rolled his hips against you. "What you deserve is to be punished."

"You say that as if walking all the way home after being thoroughly fucked and your cum slipping down my thighs isn't punishment enough." You actually quite enjoyed the walk of shame and usually ended up having to finger yourself into another orgasm as soon as you reached the privacy of your bedroom.

There was another growl as he worked on the fastenings of his pants. "It's not, but it'll have to do."

The first time his cock entered you always made you want to cry out in the delightful mix of pleasure and pain. It was clear Klahadore didn't believe in taking things slow and steady, and instead thrusted himself in completely with one sharp movement. It never how wet and ready you were--he filled and stretched you past the point of feeling full.

He didn't wait for you to adjust before gripping your hips and absolutely fucking you. You could so little more than dig your nails into his back and silence your moans and whines against the fabric of his jacket. You could never figure out how he could think lucidly enough for the mix of praises and dirty talk in your ear.

"Such a naughty girl. No bra or underwear? You were just waiting for me to fuck you weren't you? Such a perfect little kitten. My perfect kitten."

His words washed over you, helping you climb higher and higher with each thrust. You were already ready and waiting when he said your favorite words: "Come for me, kitten."

And how could you not obey? If anything it was a relief at that point as you spasmed around him, biting down a scream with what little control you had left. Especially as he kept moving, kept pounding into you, with guttural sounds as he chased his own climax.

Soon you could feel him come inside you, his cock pressed deep into you, his body pinning yours to the wall, his fingers digging into your thighs as he pulled you as close as possible.

In the afterglow was the only time you were really able to be affectionate. You ran your fingers through his hair, helping him fix it despite loving the disheveled look. The kisses were softer, sweeter, saying things that neither of you dared to say aloud. His hands caressed your legs, as if attempting to soothe away the bruises forming.

"Do you think you can stand?" He asked softly after a moment. You nodded, though couldn't help but miss the feeling of being full as soon as he removed himself from you. Your legs were wobbly, and you were thankful for his support as you tried to catch your balance. "I should apologize for being so rough…"

You pressed your finger to his lips. "Don't. If I didn't like it, I would have said something."

Klahadore's expression was fond, even though you swore there was a darkness lurking in his eyes. "There's a bathroom just down the hall. Come, let's get you cleaned up for your 'walk of shame' as you put it."

#kuro one piece #klahadore #kuro/reader #klahadore/reader #one piece #opla #captain kuro #black cat pirates

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