#proceed at your own cost | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aliteralsemicolon · 3 months

Text

I'll still be here

To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do us part. You and Spencer plan to honour your vows at any cost, no matter how insignificant or difficult the situation seems.

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER This story is SFW but still intended for mature audiences. You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read. Not proof read.

WARNING: Light descriptions of cuts and bruises, PMS/period talk. Proceed at your own risk.

Word count: 2.2K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.

You never felt more at peace than when you were with your husband. He’s your solace, your other half, your soulmate. You also never felt more dread than when he was away. Since his return from prison, you’ve been increasingly anxious whenever he leaves, scared that he might not return for God knows how long again. You're always holding your breath, only releasing it when you see him walk back in through the front door and immediately into your arms.

The relief you feel is instantaneous. Until you pull back after a minute, just to be greeted by shades of green, yellow, purple and blue staining various parts of his visible skin. Your smile drops when you notice the condition he’s in. Messy hair, dirty clothes, two shallow cuts on his lip and temple…and the bruises. So, so many bruises. Most noticeably above his brow, on his cheek and a particularly large one from the side of his mouth to his jaw.

The first time he came home like this was in the early stages of the relationship. He had offered you an out, stating that this was normal with his line of work and would most definitely happen again. You assured him that you weren’t going anywhere and that you’d be there every single time to nurse him back to health. True to your word, you were still here five years later.

You unintentionally sigh, slipping your fingers to intertwine with his and guiding him to the bedroom. You gently sit him on the edge of the bed and leave him there to retrieve the first aid kit. Spencer watches you disappear into the bathroom. You’d surprised him by choosing to stay, despite the many outs you were given. He’d come to expect being abandoned at one point or another, but you stuck by him through his worst times. Without fail or complaint, you were always there.

Something’s different today. He can’t put his finger on it exactly, but he’s literally trained to pay attention to human behaviour, no matter how skilled you are at masking your emotions, he’s better. You emerge out, making your way over to him and climbing into his lap with your legs on either side of him. He leans back onto his hands, allowing more room for you to get comfortable. Using the base of your index finger, you turn his face to one side by his chin and begin wiping his cut with some disinfectant.

He subtly winces at the initial sting, relaxing after the feeling passes. Not a single word’s been passed between you two since the initial greeting. He keeps his eyes on you waiting for you to meet them, but you don’t. You stay focused on tending to his injuries. You’d just finished with the butterfly bandages on his temple and had moved on to the cut on his lip.

“What’s wrong?” He whispers.

“Aside from the obvious?” You joke, tilting his head to the other side to deal with the bruises.

You begin rubbing some vitamin K cream, trying to be as careful as possible. His eyes are still locked in on yours. You nervously chew on your lip from the scrutiny. When you're done generously applying the cream you make quick work of stuffing it back in the first aid kit. You keep your gaze lowered and Spencer takes it upon himself to cup your face, tenderly demanding for you to meet his eyes.

The ambient lighting brings out the golden that hides in the usual brown. It’s almost impossible to hold eye contact, especially when he’s got his compelling puppy look plastered on his face. You scatter your sights anywhere else, feeling flustered and push yourself off him.

“S–stand up. I need to check the other bruises.” You gesture for him to comply as you speak.

“There are no other bruises. The paramedics already did a full check up.” He stands regardless, towering over you.

You nod as you take a step back and rush towards the bathroom again. You feel Spencer snake his arms around your waist while you put away the first aid, your body automatically leaning into his touch. He’s patiently waiting for you to look at him through the mirror, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. You didn’t know why today was different from any other time. He’s come home in worse conditions, this was actually one of his tamer returns.

“Can you at least look at me?” He kisses your parietal, rubbing circles on your skin with his thumbs.

You forcefully take a peek at his face, throwing in a weak smile, but immediately retreat and try to walk away. He doesn’t let you this time, only giving you enough room to turn around before entrapping you between the counter and his body. He takes hold of your hands and you stare at them, letting your fingers caress his palms when he loosens his grip. Spencer observes you, desperately trying to figure out what’s causing your repulsion.

Was it the bruises? That doesn’t make sense, you’ve seen worse. Did something happen when he was away? You didn’t sound any different over the phone. He couldn’t recall anything strange about your behaviour until he got home. Something had to have happened between the last time he called you and now.

“Hon–”

“You need to shower. I’ll heat up dinner for you.” You’re broken out of your trance when he breaks the silence and successfully push past him this time.

You race to the kitchen, but your husband doesn’t relent, pacing after you. He calls your name a few times, but you don’t respond. His gaining presence makes the room feel like it’s shrinking. It’s when you feel him pull you by the shoulder that you finally snap.

“Spencer, please just stop!” You spin around to face him.

He comes to a halt, just inches away from you. The pained look on his face makes you want to beat the crap out of yourself.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap…I just– please, go shower. I’m okay. Everything’s okay.” You plead with shallow breaths.

“Neither of us are going anywhere until we talk about this.” He pushes, knowing that if he doesn’t get you to talk now you’ll just close up.

You were much like him in that regard, always disregarding your feelings until they exploded on a much larger scale than necessary. He wasn’t going to let you avoid this problem. Tears welled in your eyes and you bit the inside of your cheek to try and evade them. You don’t expect the choked sob that spills from you. All the feelings you worked so hard to bottle, spill and sink you down to the floor.

“Hey, shh.” Spencer comforts as he puts his arms around your body, sinking down with you. “I’ve got you, my love, I’ve got you.”

He strokes your hair, offering you a safe space against his chest to cry into. He doesn’t stop with comforting stimuli, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head. The two of you stay there for sometime.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is muffled by his shirt, but still audible.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He reassures, a hand still in your hair.

You pull out of his embrace, still sniffling and look up at him through clouded lashes. You feel slightly pathetic, but there’s no judgement on his face. Only empathy and adoration.

“I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m probably just PMS-ing.” You mumble.

“Premenstrual syndrome is very common, in fact 3 out of 4 women have or will experience PMS in some form. The physical and emotional changes you experience with premenstrual syndrome may vary from just slightly noticeable all the way to intense– I’m rambling, sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You sadly chuckle. “You know I like when you ramble. Plus it’s a welcome distraction.”

“I know that…my point is that even if that’s the case, I won’t let you use that as an excuse to invalidate your feelings. Please, talk to me. Say whatever’s on your mind.” He speaks so softly, it makes your heart ache.

“It’s not a big deal…” You begin and Spencer gives you a look to shut down the negation. “I guess it– the bruises, Spence. I don’t know why, but seeing you like this…it’s difficult today.”

“It’s not just today.” He exhales, shaking his head. “This is something that’s been going on since…I got back. From prison. We haven’t talked about it yet, but maybe we should.”

He wasn’t talking about the whole prison situation in general, the two of you had discussed that not long after his return. Spencer’s well aware of how antsy you get since then, even though you try to hide it. It’s why he texts you every chance he gets and makes time to call you, even in the middle of an investigation.

“There’s nothing to talk about. I knew what I was getting myself into long before all of that.” You shrug, not wanting to give him a reason to offer you a chance to leave.

“Yes…but, that doesn’t make it any easier.” He counters.

“Spencer, I swear to god if you try to give me another out–”

“No. No more outs. You’re stuck with me. I want us to find a way to make this easier for you.” He chuckles lightly, rubbing soothing patterns on your forearm.

He was so gentle with you, always finding some way to remind you that he loves you. If not with his words than with small touches. Though you didn’t see it as a small gesture by any means, knowing how he usually recoils from physical touch with others.

“I honestly don’t know. I don’t think it can get easier, you know? Seeing the person you love more than anything come home like this. Especially when you don’t see them for days to begin with. I mean imagine if it was the other way around.” You confide, biting your lip from the nerves.

His tongue darts out of his lip, an indicator that the gears in his head were turning.

“That’s fair.” He nods. “Then maybe…it would be easier if I came home everyday? And not like this?”

You pause, trying to comprehend what he means.

“Are you implying that you resign from the BAU?”

“If that’s what it takes.” He confidently replies.

“Spencer, you love this job. I can’t ask you to leave it for my sake. I mean this is your life’s work.” You remind him.

“True, there was a time when the job meant everything to me.” He smiles, briefly reminiscing. “But that changed the second you took me as your husband.”

Your heart threatens to leap out of your chest. At the same time you wonder if this is a cry for help. You never thought you’d ever hear him say he’d leave the FBI. Your concern must be plastered all over you, because Spencer feels the need to reiterate.

“I love this job, I love you infinitely more.”

“I only want you to quit when you’re ready to quit. Not for my sake. All I meant was that I want you to be a little more careful out there. I can’t lose you.” You’re dumbfounded by his admission and resist out of guilt.

You never wanted him to choose between you and his work.

“You won’t lose me. I’ll be by your side for the rest of our lives, the same way you’ve been by mine since I met you.” He drags you into his lap, pulling you impossibly close.

“That’s not a choice you can guarantee.” You scoff playfully.

“No, but it’s a choice I make regardless. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here for as long as you’ll have me.”

He wasn’t going to budge. Spencer would do anything for you. He’d already given over a decade of his life to the bureau, the rest of it was yours.

“I don’t want you to quit until it’s something you want for yourself. Just promise me that if things get too intense or dangerous, you’ll step back for a bit.” You throw out a compromise and drape your arms around his shoulder, prompting him to wrap his arms around your waist.

“I promise. As long as you promise me that if it becomes too much for you to handle, you’ll tell me.” He’s looking at you as if you’re the most rare jewel on the planet, which to him, you are.

“I don’t want to make you leave.” You oppose, running a hand through the base of his locks.

“You’re not making me do anything. I want to do this. I’ve let myself lose a lot to this job. Let me be very clear when I say that I won’t lose you to it. I will not let it push us apart. Promise me.” He implores.

It’s so hard to refuse anything this man says when he looks at you with stars in his eyes and speaks to you in such a sweet tone. He’s your whole world and you’d do anything for him.

“I promise.” You roll your eyes and giggle, the sound making him beam. “And by the way, I wasn’t going to let your job come between us either. Is it a pain in my ass at times? Yes, but I’ll still be here when you come home.”

“I love you.” Spencer blurts out, leaning in for a kiss.

“I love you too. More, actually” You contest.

“Whatever you say, my sweet angel.”

Spoilers: Established relationship, hurt + comfort, fluff.

AN - This is my most sleep deprived not-blurb, blurb ever. If this doesn’t make sense it’s because I wrote this without thinking about it or reading it over. There is no plot to this, it’s just a very self indulgent hurt/comfort fic that came to me in a dream (wish Spencer came to me (sorry)). This is your reminder that I am not Spencer Reid and I do not have an IQ of 187. The facts I make him spew could very well be bull-shit and he only spews them for the purpose of this story.

Rumour has it that if you comment nothing significant happens but it makes my day because I enjoy reading what you have to say :0

Thank you for reading!

802 notes · View notes

clipartdinosaur · 8 months

Text

Griddlehark Fics

I have read an absolutely insane amount of Griddlehark fanfics in the past few months so I figured I could make a like...list of all of my favorites that I bookmarked. I'm not sure if anyone will use this but if anything it will be for my own self-indulgence LOL. Just a heads up, this list WILL contain spoilers up to Nona the Ninth, so proceed with your own discretion. Anyway here we go!

(♥︎ = favorite!)

Short (<15k):

"By the Sword" by JeanLuciferGohard (2.6k)

The Reverend Daughter of the Ninth, Necrosaint, Ascended, the greatest bone adept in an Age, does one push-up, and collapses. Harrow does not beg for her cavalier. Harrow rakes her hair back and snarls, “Nav, I am going to unzip your cranial sutures. One by one. And zip them up again sideways.”

"Your Necro Questions Answered" by Magichorse (8.8k)

Syndicated columnist "Nav the Cav" offers a sympathetic ear to cavaliers across the galaxy and dispenses practical, no-nonsense, real talk advice on how to properly manage and care for your necromancer.

"A Lesson in Bones" by Magichorse (3.8k)

One of the laboratory trials at Canaan House compels Harrowhark to swap bodies with her cavalier. What will Gideon do with the power of the most talented bone adept in generations at her disposal? Nothing good, probably.

"Visions of Gideon" by tothewillofthepeople (13k)

Oh my god they were roommates...

"true love's kiss, or something equally nauseating" by corpsesoldier (4.6k)

She was where she needed to be. She was going to pull her necro out of this godforsaken tomb, end the game of musical bodies they were playing, and then everything would be all right. Harrow would be alive. And Gideon was going to give her shit for approximately the next myriad for not just taking what she’d offered and saving them a whole lot of trouble.

"The Big Warm Dark" by decalexas (haelstorm) (2.7k)

Gideon Nav knows how to swing a longsword, brandish a rapier, bridge the gap between life and death, punch the dead in the face, and maybe overthrow an Empire along the way. What she doesn't know how to do is reach for the girl who made all of this possible.

"carrion comfort, despair (not feast on thee)" by NotAFicWriter (5k)

Some time after Alecto wakes, Harrow and Gideon finally have a moment to speak to one another. Hearts are bared. Teeth are bared. Intentions are bared. It all comes at great personal cost (emotional honesty).

"never exhale all the way" by pigflight (1.2k)

Harrowhark paints Gideon's face.

"such an almighty sound" by CountingNothings (10k)♥︎

“I need you to marry me,” Harrow says, a propos of absolutely nothing that Gideon can see. And, uh, okay, this is not what childhood best frenemies say to each other upon discovering that both of their graduate programs have weird residence requirements. “What,” Gideon asks, “the fuck?”

"A Handsomely Dangerous Thing" by zoicite (1.5k)

Had Harrow ever looked at Gideon and felt pride before? Surely not. It sat like a tumor in her chest, a cancerous lump that had grown where it did not belong.

"How it didn't happen" by Nary (1.5k)

"How did you lose it?" Coronabeth asked, more softly than her sister's shrill voice. The group assembled at Canaan House barely knew her, and yet here they were, asking the most irritatingly personal questions, and acting as if they were being kind and thoughtful by prying into her secrets. "I dropped my pen into a vat of acid and reached in to grab it without thinking," Harrow said dryly. Coronabeth recoiled, screwing up her pretty nose. Ianthe looked unsure whether to believe her or not. Their meatslab of cavalier just stared blankly. "The Daughter of the Ninth House was blessed in this manner from her birth, as a symbol of her strength and power over the mysteries of necromancy," Ortus interjected. Harrow glared at him. "Oh," Coronabeth said, an expression of disgusting sympathy on her flawless face. "But then you would never have known who your soulmate was!" Harrow's glare intensified. "My soulmate is bones."

"Halcyon Nights" by Morike91 (10k)

It was hard to tell what was worse: feeling the full warmth of those unguarded honey eyes fall on Harrow, or watching them narrow in recognition and contempt, their warmth now hotter with something else. “What can I get you?” It has been at least four years since Harrow last heard the voice of Gideon Nav, but it was still as familiar as her right hand.

"I completely fucking hate you" by ClaraZorEl (7.5k)

In the coming weeks, Harrowhark learns an unfortunate great deal about Gideon Nav. The kind of porn she likes, the number of bread rolls she can fit into her mouth at once, that she always leans too heavily on her left leg when she fights but can do fifty-seven push-ups in a row without stopping, that her biceps rates 11/10 on the scale of good biceps, that her laugh rumbles like an army of skeletons, and most importantly, that she can’t fucking stand her. Gideon Nav is so grating that Harrow has no doubt she will be her undoing. OR Harrowhark Nonagesimus has been invited to Canaan University's ball. But to successfully represent her house, she needs a cavalier, and unfortunately, her only option is her least favourite barista from her least favourite coffee shop.

"A Thousand Teeth, Yours Among Them" by pipistrelle (7k)

"In the end, she poisoned Ortus; so it was Harrow Nova who walked out to the shuttle a half-step behind the Daughter of the Ninth, the chain of Samael Novenary wound about her offhand wrist, the black blade of the Ninth at her side."

"The Only Prayer We Know" by pipistrelle (12k) [Part 2 of "A Thousand Teeth, Yours Among Them"]

It's like a bad joke: two cavaliers (alive) and two necromancers (one dead) walk into a rebel faction of humanity, looking for a new life -- in every sense of the phrase. What they find is each other, and (in some cases) themselves.

"The Flames of Hell Are Warm" by silverapples (7k)

In which Harrow is a repressed evangelical Christian and Gideon performs burlesque in a lesbian nightclub. Feat. nipple pasties, chewing gum, and a steaming mug of gay coffee (wake up and smell it, Harrow).

"Necro Business" by rnanqo (1.6k) ♥︎

“Gideon,” you said carefully, “I will need to examine your mouth. Various structures, primarily the jaw, but also the lingual muscles—the tongue—” You stopped there. Your cheeks were going red, probably with indignity. “Yeah,” I said, a bit too loudly, “yeah, sure. Do it.”

"Holy Cross, Alaska" by softieghost (10k) ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Harrow meets Gideon. They go through it together.

"my love will be your armor" by TheKnightsWhoSayBook (2.3k)

"The princess has a right to bestow her favor on whoever she wishes to win a match," Gideon tells her. "Are you going to?" "Why would I? I don't want to marry him," Harrow answers bitterly. "Do you want me to win?" Princess Harrow will be engaged to the winner of the tournament, and her only champion is her useless bodyguard Sir Gideon Nav, who isn't going to save her. Unless...?

"The Meaning Of The Word" by pipistrelle (8.4k)

Harrow, along with a good percentage of Canaan University's necromancy students, has the flu. Gideon has a lot of feelings that she is in no way equipped to handle. It's a tough week.

"(i shine only with the light you gave me)" by sashawire (1.7k) ♥︎

God prods, gently, “Even just starting with their physical description, and we can go from there.” “Imagine,” you say, from somewhere outside your body, “the worst shade of orange you’ve ever seen in your life.” * Harrowhark receives her saintly title.

"i will learn to love the shears" by corpsesoldier (4.7k)

The avulsion trial left Harrow's hair in a sorry state and Gideon offers up her expertise with a blade. Or, Gideon gives Harrow a haircut.

"The Titty Texts: A Work of a Stupendous Titty Nature" by EleniaTrexer (3k)

Gideon accidentally sends Harrow boobs. And then just keeps on sending them.

"can we start over?" by breeeliss (10k)

Gideon needs a tutor. Harrow needs someone to get her out of college gym class. All in all, a pretty straightforward arrangement to make with your ex.

"Dark Mode Enabled" by senseoftheday (12k)

Tech Company AU in which a certain Sales bro with no filter decides to ruin Harrow's life (and feature roadmap) by initiating the cross-functional project from hell. At least, Gideon has the decency to work remotely, and Harrow's new office crush makes some pretty great coffee.

"deconsecrated graves" by emotionsandphenomena (4k)

Gideon and Harrow got out of the cult they were raised in. Okay, what's next?

"settle up in heaven" by liesmyth (3k) ♥︎

“Isn’t this arrogance, Harrow?” Kiriona says. “Think you could fix what God couldn’t?”

"Quoth the Maiden" by Sarsaparilla (10.9k)

The bold outlaws Nova Hawk and Gideon meet for the first time on a narrow log-bridge. But is it really their first meeting? Or: what if Robin Hood and Little John were both lesbians?

"twice in a blue moon" by sinshine (8.7k) ♥︎

Gideon snapped out of her depressing reverie and blinked at her. "That's a really good idea." "Obviously," said Harrow, and it was only a little bit condescending. "Step one, sneak out of the party. Step two, acquire the necessary items at a store. Step three–" Harrow gestured vaguely at the deer in Gideon's hands– "And step four, profit." [G&H rush to fix a smashed snow globe that Dulcinea made so that Cam doesn't kill them before the clock strikes midnight at their NYE party. The fact that Gideon is back in her hometown after a long time away and she and Harrow have unresolved romantic tension is secondary and definitely won't be a problem.]

"It Came From Planet Slut" by LockedTombMemes (8k)

Well. Evidently going undercover to an Idan society fling in order to deliver a message to a high-profile BoE agent was a tits-out kind of look.

"Apostate's Yuletide" by sinshine (12.6k)♥︎

Gideon raised one eyebrow comically high. She smiled easily, erasing any hint of the anxiety that Harrow might have sensed. "What's with all the questions today?" Harrow huffed indignantly and fidgeted with the blanket draped across her lap, worrying the frayed hem with her fingers. "I thought your ego would appreciate the interest." "Yeah, but it's weird coming from you. I'm used to you monologuing, not playing twenty questions." "Perhaps it's a Christmas miracle," suggested Harrow, with an expression so absolutely devoid of joy that Gideon couldn't help but laugh. [Harrow and Gideon burn down a church on Xmas.]

"when it's over" by Adertily (2.5k)

Harrowhark had sworn to herself to live to see the girl in the locked tomb awaken. Alecto has risen. Now God is dead, along with everyone who had ever been dear to her - and Gideon has returned as a distorted creature. The war is over. Harrow wishes she could be too. Or: A character study based on Harrow's suicidal ideation and Gideon's determination to never run anywhere unless she absolutely has to.

"Supernova Bloom!" by sinshine (13k)

"It's just for a week, and then you never have to see me again," said Gideon. "I don't have time to find anyone else." And, "Please." Slowly, Harrow took her hand off the door and cautiously turned around. Gideon watched a dozen unspoken questions flicker across her face. She voiced none of them, but eventually settled on an expression of grim resignation. "I suppose I could suffer you for a week." [Gideon needs help getting her new flower shop ready for the grand opening. Harrow needs cash.]

"I still need your teeth around my organs" by sinshine (7.8k)

Although she was a beloved Daughter and a talented necromancer, Gideon's greatest vice was that she dearly loved to fuck around and find out. Knowing this, perhaps it shouldn't have been as shocking when she lifted one of Nova's hands, flipped it over, and kissed her palm. [4 times Gideon kisses Harrow, 1 time Harrow kisses Gideon]

"cuckoo, cuckoo" by sashawire (1.2k)

What Wake gives it is not a name. To do so would be a moronic, unnecessary cruelty. But she does deign to give it the microscopic dignity of a title, a goal, a purpose. Bomb. Eighteen years later, in the rubble of a once-sacred home, Harrowhark Nonagesimus reaches up and touches Gideon Nav’s grit-covered, blood-rimed face, splits a laugh like the world is ending, and calls her “flower.” * Six times God's unwanted daughter was nicknamed, and once she wasn't.

"my teeth will only cut your lips, my dear" by sashawire (<1k) ♥︎

Gideon chomps into her tongue as hard as she can convince herself, stifling a very dignified squawk. Her eyes water, Emperor’s left tit that fucking hurts, but—it works. Blood weeps from the bite marks, creeping down the back of her throat, up into her nasal cavity, staining her teeth. Okay. She has blood in her mouth. Blood that, somehow, needs to get into Harrow’s mouth. * Step #6: Consume the flesh.

"fifteen percent concentrated power of will" by surreptitiously (9k)

Teaching someone to do a push-up is a love language, when that person is very annoying.

"GHAZAL WHERE I'M BEGGING YOU TO TOUCH ME" by igneousbitch (12k)

You had your body and I had mine, and it was a miracle. Your hands against my face were a miracle. The rest of your meat attached to your hands was a prayer answered and a promise broken, but we were flush and gasping and alive, and Harrow—I really thought you might’ve kissed me then. But I felt it happen. The way your breath suddenly stilled, and your body locked up beneath mine, remembering. How with splintering gentleness, you pushed me away. “I’m so sorry,” was the second thing you said upon waking. The first thing had been my name. Stranded in a safehouse on an Edenite moon, Gideon and Harrow try to put themselves back together.

"catch you on the flip side, sugar lips" by corpsesoldier (4.9k)

Maybe if Harrow's brain runs enough scenarios, she'll find a way to keep what she's lost.

"hand to heart, I swear" by corpsesoldier (5k)

Gideon has a broken heart, and there's only one necromancer who can fix it.

Medium (15-30k)

"If you're doing it right you'll break their ribs" by almostnectarine (22.4k)

"How do you know Nonagesimus has gone somewhere dangerous?" asked Isaac. "Have you wired some kind of alert system?" "It's, uh. It's on the schedule," said Gideon. "I just... forgot. Because of the bread." Nobody was convinced by this, least of all Gideon. "It's a Ninth House thing," Gideon went on, backing away with increasing desperation. This was a slightly more plausible explanation, if only because nobody wanted to look too closely at what fell under the awful skeletal-ribbed and rotting umbrella of Ninth House things. "Gotta go—!" And she was out the door, gone. But it wasn't a Ninth House thing, except inasmuch as it was happening to the only two representatives of the noble and decrepit Ninth House on this quite literally godforsaken rock. Gideon knew Harrow had gone somewhere dangerous—knew that Harrow was back in the lab where they had only just completed a horrible trial—because she could see it, clear as day: an awful overlay on her vision of that terrible dangerous room and a pair of terrible dangerous hands drawing some kind of ward next to the plinth. The hands were definitely Harrow's. This was definitely a problem.

"If Home Is Where the Heart Is (Then We're All Just Fucked)" by JeanLuciferGohard (17k) ♥︎

When Gideon Nav gets a call that her ex-girlfriend, who never bothered to change her designated emergency contact, is in the hospital, she goes against her better judgement and responds. Everything after that just gets more complicated.

"blue gray green lavender" by smolranger (29k) ♥︎

Laser Radial sailor Gideon Nav just wants pass her classes, win a few regattas, and keep her head down. FJ sailor Harrowhark Nonagesimus has grand plans to qualify for the Olympics, preserve her parent's legacy, and save her home town. Despite the ties binding them together, the two have kept their college lives carefully separate for two years. But when Harrow's helm, Ortus, suffers a concussion mid-way through the fall season, their carefully separated lives collide. Harrow needs someone capable of taking Ortus' place for the remainder of the season or her Olympic dreams — and Canaan College's entire sail team — are in peril. And Gideon is her only option.

"Daughters of Hungry Ghosts" by zoicite (24k)

Harrow and Gideon and times they have (and also have not) shared a bed over the years.

"Disney World, Florida" by softieghost (24.6k) [Part 2 of "Holy Cross, Alaska"]

After the events of Alaska, Harrow thanks Gideon the only way she knows how: devotion. -- Chapter 3: The journey concludes. More confessions.

"we've got a good thing goin' " by sinshine (14.6k) ♥︎

“Not to sound ungrateful, but being here makes me wish that you had left me for dead,” said Harrow. Gideon had been staring hard at the face of the fountain’s statue. She was pretty sure that it was carved in the likeness of Naberius himself, but she didn’t want to say it out loud and make it true. She shook her head and turned to Harrow. “Leaving me to live out eternity in your bony sock puppet of a body? Hard pass.” Palamedes and Camilla shared a look. It was the mutual understanding of two people who had been trapped in close quarters with the bickering of Gideon Nav and Harrowhark Nonagesimus for far too long. [Team 69 hide out in Babs's vacation home. Because it's not like he's using it anyway.]

"Cake by the Ocean" by zoicite (15k)♥︎

Okay, so the thing was, Gideon had always been shit at plans. She knew that. Everyone knew that, but this--she really didn’t think it would be this hard! Gideon’s voice was like the least memorable thing about her. Bargaining her voice for a well-shaped set of human legs--that really should have worked in her favor.

"careful fear and (un)dead devotion" by sinshine (23k)

[Gideon and Harrow wake up back in their own bodies but both of them are missing large parts of their memory. Camilla tries not to kill everyone.]

"who ya gonna call?" by igneousbitch (24k)

“Fret not, honeybun.” Gideon shook her red hair out of her eyes, belligerent. “I’m not totally sold on your whole skepticism thing.” “Well,” Harrow said, ignoring the nickname. She turned to the rest of the room, clearing her throat politely before addressing the empty air. “Ghosts, if you’re real, give us a sign. Make a noise. Move something. Send a shiver down our backs. Whisper softly into Nav’s left ear—” “I seriously fucking hate you.” - (Casual sex and paranormal investigation. Not necessarily in that order.) (or: the Buzzfeed Unsolved AU in which Gideon is ready to fight a ghost, and Harrow just wants to be haunted.)

Long(>30k):

"Beneath a Blue and Foreign Sky" by zoicite (35k)

Harrow has a decision to make.

"A Heart Full Of Sutures" by Rohad (40k)

All Gideon wanted was to get outside and ride her motorcycle. No part of that plan had included eight weeks in Canaan Medical Center with a broken Pelvis and the meanest little doctor this side of the eastern seabord.

"Midnight at the Mithraeum" by zoicite (66k) ♥︎

It'd been two years since Gideon Nav gathered her wine key and her gaming license and escaped The Locked Tomb, a speakeasy-style cocktail bar managed by the hateful Harrowhark Nonagesimus. Now, dealing tables at The Mithraeum Hotel & Casino, things were really looking up. So when Gideon scored a date with the most beautiful showgirl in the Gilded Halls of Ida, the last thing she expected was to wake up married to her old nemesis and former coworker. The story starts the night of Gideon's date and alternates between the events leading up to the wedding and the weeks that follow as Gideon tries to navigate life married to someone who claims to want nothing more than to forget she exists.

"Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea" by pipistrelle (90k)

Being the journal of Reverend Daughter Harrowhark Nonagesimus, chronicling the journey of the Emperor's warship Cenotaph on its hunt to slay an immortal Resurrection Beast. Or: the Moby Dick crossover AU that nobody asked for.

"The Darkest Night, The Brightest Light" by eternaleponine (50k)

Harrowhark has known for a long time that her home's financial situation is dire, and not getting better. She has plans to fix it all, but can't implement them until she turns eighteen in a few months. When her parents announce that the best (perhaps only) way to save Drearburh is to marry off its heir, Harrow realizes the timeline has changed and she needs to take action now to save her home... and herself. Desperate times call for desperate measures, after all. Enter Gideon Nav. Detested foe, and Harrow's only hope.

"putting your fist through a thick sheet of glass (i know you don't want to)" by oretsev (46k)

Harrowhark Nonagesimus and Gideon Nav have always been at each other’s throats, and the animosity has only intensified since the death of Harrow’s parents. But when a car accident leaves Gideon without any memories of her past, Harrow sees a chance at the clean slate she’s wanted for years. Becoming involved in Gideon’s recovery assuages some of the guilt, but as she and Gideon become closer and increasingly involved in each other's lives, Harrow worries that some of her secrets may be more than she can atone for.

Ongoing:

"semi-charmed kinda life" by strangedelight (182k+) ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Gideon asked questions. Harrow surprised her with answers. They reached an agreement; they decided to be smart, to be patient. Gideon made a promise, Harrow gave her one in return. Wait and see. OR the year is 1994, and Gideon and Harrow leave their small town for life in the city. OR team 69 roommates au only this time it's the 90s

"Intern the Sixth" by apocalypticTaco (33k+)

ADDRESSING THE HEIR TO THE NINTH HOUSE, OR PRESUMED EQUIVALENT: PALAMEDES SEXTUS, HEIR TO THE SIXTH HOUSE, PRESENTS HIS COMPLIMENTS TO THE NINTH AND REQUESTS A FORMAL ARRANGEMENT WHEREIN HIS MASTER WARDEN AND CAVALIER APPRENTICESHIP UNDER THE NINTH FOR FOUR YEARS IN EXCHANGE FOR THE SIXTH’S SERVICES. *Details to be discussed. Please turn to back page. Timeframe variable. Services and agreements variable upon the Ninth's request. An internship of this caliber is highly unprecedented and likely unheard of, but any information valuable to the Ninth and into the Tomb will remain undisclosed upon request; Primary experience and study is required as the Master Warden has already decided upon such being his final thesis prior to his end studies. No takebacks, no denials. Pleased to meet you. Palamedes Sextus, Heir to the Sixth and Master Warden and Camilla the Sixth, Cavalier Primary and Warden's Hand of the Library

TO THE MASTER WARDEN: FORMALLY REJECTED.

"What's Eating Gideon Nav?" by labyrinthineRetribution (40k+)

After a miserable fifteen years at Blessed Saint Anastasia's School for Girls, Gideon's luck finally changes.

"We Have Always Lived in the Apartment" by labyrinthineRetribution (171k+)

John looks up from his Jack and Coke in drunken curiosity. "What's with the face, Harrowhark?" he asks, genuinely concerned. "Contrary to popular belief," Gideon butts in, "her face just fuckin' looks like that, bitch." She tends to use "bitch" as liberally as commas when off her ass. "You're piss drunk," you shoot back. "And you, my good bitch, are just as contemptible as the day you clawed your way up from Hell." - It is Harrowhark Nonagesimus' birthday, and it only gets worse from there.

PWP (basically):

"I'll hold in these hands all that remains" by corvidlesbian (6.5k) ♥︎

“Do you want me to try?” Gideon said. “What?” “You got all hot and bothered without me trying. Do you want me to try?” Their newfound habit of cuddling gets interesting.

"sting of a wasp" by brightbolt, imperfectlyctor (42k) ♥︎

"You’re a virgin,” Gideon said, testing it out. "Huh." Harrow didn’t like the sound of that huh. She knew Gideon’s noises, and that was a thoughtful, sinister huh. That was the same huh she’d made before putting canned tuna in Crux’s work boots. Her eyes narrowed. “What.” Gideon cocked her head to the side. “Is there a reason you’re waiting?” There was no judgement in the question— only genuine curiosity. Perhaps it was this that made Harrow more inclined to answer. “I don’t have the time to look for someone new,” She shrugged. “And my available pool is… somewhat limited.” “Well,” Gideon said, with just a hint of conspiracy in those glittering golden eyes. “If you ever want to change that, you have my number.” What? What? Harrow blinked. “What?” Or: the five times Gideon and Harrow successfully bone, and the one time they don't.

"Suckle, Honey" by zoicite (7.9k)

“You crave my juice,” Gideon accused. “I do not crave your juice.” “Fuck, you do though. You went off to explore that study alone, without your cavalier, using a key that I nearly gave my life for, and then you snorted some powder that made you crave my juice! Harrow. I never would have let you sniff powder from a ten thousand year old jar.” This was untrue--Gideon probably wouldn’t have noticed Harrow breathing in a puff of jar powder until it was too late--but it sounded like something Camilla Hect might say, so Gideon went with it anyway. Camilla definitely would have stopped Palamedes from accidentally sniffing old as fuck Eighth House jarred juice addiction powder.

"Five Times We Hatefucked and One Time We Didn't" by rnanqo (8k)

“Fuck you,” you said. “Fuck me yourself, you coward.” You ran a hand through my hair, fisted it, and pulled my head up. From here I had a spectacular view of your weird blown-out seething expression, like I was the worst thing you’d ever seen. Also a view up your blood-crusted nostrils. Choice. “Maybe I will, Griddle,” you said. “Maybe I will stop fucking you over and start fucking you." Gideon and Harrow realize, abruptly, that their hatefucking is no longer hatefucking.

"a call to motion" by groundedsaucer (coasterchild) (10k) ♥︎

Harrow and Gideon watch a porno.

"put her canine teeth in the side of my neck" by stranded_star (8.8k)

Harrowhark Nonagesimus is getting a PhD and a divorce. Against her better judgment, she goes out to the bar to celebrate and meets an incorrigible, absolutely ripped salt-and-paprika butch who takes her home and gives it to her good. To her horror, it's the best night of her life, and she sneaks home with her tail between her legs. Harrow has more important things to worry about - like raising her daughter and building the next stages of her career. But when her daughter's favorite teacher, someone named Griddle, turns about to be the Gideon she met at the bar, she's forced to contend with allowing herself (and her daughter) to find the happy ending she never thought they'd have. Featuring MILF!Harrow, Teacher!Gideon, and a very amused Camilla Hect.

"The Wound That Swallows" by seelieunseelie (7.8k)

Harrow can make out an uncomfortable amount of detail about Gideon’s body beneath. Powerful, strong as ever, yet somehow vulnerable for its supplication below Harrow’s. “Are we gonna get this over with?” Gideon says in a voice softly scratchy. She blushes then when Harrow sits on the edge of the bed. “It will hurt,” Harrow says. “Yeah,” Gideon says. “I think I can handle it.”

#holy shit this is way longer than i thought it would be #uhm i literally gave myself a headache i sat here for like 3 hours doing this #that being said if you have any fic recs lmk LOL #griddlehark #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth #the locked tomb #tlt #tlt fic #tlt fanfiction #griddlehark fanfic #rec #long post

1K notes · View notes

yanderehsr · 1 year

Note

Yandere Lyney, Zhongli, Dottore ((why not)) Neuvillette and Tighnari bring up the idea one day that they want a baby but darling dislikes children so she keeps changing the subject or ignoring the idea all together completely shutting that thought down plus the very idea of it makes her stomach cringe having a baby with them

I have a good idea which 4 I'll pick here, Hope you'll enjoy😄

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapping, Suggestive in all of them, proceed at your own risk

Zhongli: You can't tell me this guy doesn't want children with you at all costs, so when you change subject and reject the idea, it honestly hurts him a bit, did you not want to have children with him, isn't he good enough. He can't deal with that, he is going to have a child with you no matter what you say.

All Zhongli needs is to slip you some nice sleeping aids, and he'll whisk you away to somewhere so far removed from society that only he knows about it, you have only yourself to blame here, if you hadn't rejected him then this wouldn't be happening at all, you will wake up sore with Zhongli cuddling you, you have no idea where you are and you feel strange, weird huh.

"This wouldn't be happening if you just accepted it from the very beginning. I am sure you'll be a great mother"

Dottore: Let's be honest here, this freak doesn't do this because he has a kink or because he genuinely wants a family, these children serve two reasons. One, they will bind you to him, it's something of a possessive bond. Two, they are experiments plain and simple.

Dottore also finds a bonus in all of this, he can use children to threaten you to be compliant, he doesn't care about your refusals or your discomfort, he just wants to pump a baby into you so it's easier to get you to obey. He doesn't even hide it and that's what is scariest.

"Wake up, I have confirmed that it worked this time... why are you crying, aren't you happy to have a child? No matter, you are having it whether you want to or not"

Neuvillette: He has brought it up to you so many times and each time you either change subject or completely shut the idea down, it's honestly starting to get to him a little, shouldn't the ultimate goal of any female be to have a child, that is atleast what he understood from other humans.

Neuvillette isn't someone who would force you to have a child, that would go against his morals, or the little morals he has left after kidnapping you, you can at the very least be happy he isn't someone who would force this, he will continue asking tho, hoping that one day you will say yes.

"I just wanted to bring up the subject of potential future childre-... Oh, ok, I understand, could you tell me how your day has been at the very least"

Tighnari: Fennec foxes mates for life, meaning they only get together with one person ever, and that so happens with you, Tighnari does want children but wont force anything if you don't want it, that is until he enters his heat.

Tighnari before a heat will force you away from him, but this time he forgot, and you happened to walk in on him during the heat, he would catch you quickly to have his way with you, he can't really control what he's doing here, but when he goes back to normal he finds himself happy instead, he is sure you'll make a great mother.

"Well there's nothing we can do now about it... you don't need to be so sad about it, I'll be with you every step of the way, MY mate"

#yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere male #yandere zhongli #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere dottore #yandere dottore x reader #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #yandere tighnari #yandere tighnari x reader

1K notes · View notes

paperultra · 1 year

Text

the liminal space.

Pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x Reader Word Count: 1,575 words Warnings: Swearing, mentions of alcohol use [A/N: written with the cooper!reader from mise en rose in mind. i don't know where in the timeline this occurs, though. lol.]

cingulomania (noun): a strong desire to hold a person in your arms

Living in close quarters can really change how you see a person.

Roronoa Zoro, for instance, had always struck you as rather aloof, having traveled alone for some time before you joined him, and unused to physical affection. He never gave any indication that he was one to enjoy it, and he never sought it out from anyone. That certainly wasn’t odd. You respected his tendency towards personal space, subsequently believing that it extended to his sleeping habits as well.

So when you wake up, hardly able to breathe underneath the hulking mass of a snoring swordsman, you are more surprised than anything.

“Zoro,” you wheeze, patting his back with the hand that isn’t crushed between his chest and yours. Nothing happens, so you swat harder. “Zoro. You’re crushing me.”

His arms squeeze around you as he stirs, inhaling sharply next to your ear. You stop moving as he lifts his head and opens his eyes just wide enough to register you beneath him.

He pauses.

Good morning, sunshine is what you want to say in a cheeky tone. You want to prove that you’re unaffected by the warmth of his body pressing yours into the mattress, the sensation of his breath across your cheekbone and the way his gaze transitions from something bleary into something sharp.

The greeting refuses to leave your mouth. All you can do is blink.

The next thing you know, Zoro’s rolling off of you and out of bed with nary an apology, mumbling something about going to the bathroom.

You hum distantly in response and stare up at the ceiling as he shuffles to the door. Once he closes it behind him, you reach up and fold your hands over your eyes, cheeks hot.

Great.

—

It all started because you and Zoro could only afford a single bed at the inn.

(You use the term “afford” loosely here. The truth of the matter is that you grossly underestimated how much a room would cost, and the owner of the one place willing to lend you a room for half the usual rate demanded physical labor to make up for the rest. Given that Zoro would be spending most of his time hunting down a bounty, the majority of the unpaid labor fell on your shoulders.)

(But you digress.)

The room is small and bare, which is fine, because you and Zoro don’t have much between the two of you anyway. The only problem is that there is only one bed. Zoro had expressed no qualms about sharing so long as you didn’t disturb his sleep, and you had readily agreed, not wanting either of you to sleep on the floor.

After the first morning, you’re not sure if that was a lapse of judgement on your part or not.

Zoro doesn’t mention it at all before he leaves for the day, and you don’t, either. However, when he comes back in the middle of the night and you’re already in bed, squinting and shielding yourself from the bright hallway light as he takes his slippers off and walks in, he sits on the carpet just a few feet away from your side.

“What are you doing?” you ask as he proceeds to lay down.

“Sleeping.”

He closes his eyes and folds his arms behind his head. You frown.

“Why aren’t you sleeping up here?” No answer. You lift your head from your pillow, indignant. “Hey, don’t ignore me! I know you’re still awake.”

“I’ve had a long day,” he grumbles, “so I’d like some quiet so I can sleep. Thanks.”

You huff.

The thought that Zoro might actually be just as embarrassed flits briefly through your mind, but you extinguish it just as quickly. He’s never seemed like the kind of guy to be self-conscious about those kinds of things. A more likely reason is that he’s decided that he wants his own separate space after all and can’t be bothered to kick you off the bed.

So, you kick yourself off instead.

“What are you doing?” The phrase now comes from Zoro as you throw the covers off and grab your pillow, kneeling on the ground beside him. His eyes open and his brow furrows.

“Take the bed. I feel guilty.”

“I don’t want the bed.”

“Everybody wants the bed.” You lie down on the carpet and cross your arms over your chest, stubborn. “I’ve already slept in it. Now it’s your turn.”

“You’re an idiot,” Zoro says.

Neither of you budge.

The next morning, you decide that the first morning was in fact not a fluke, as you awake with your face smushed against his chest and the smell of steel in your nose once again. He’s not on top of you, at least, but the way he clutches you while you’re lying on your side, one ankle hooked over yours, is somehow ten times more mortifying. You wake him up in the midst of untangling yourself and pretend like nothing happened.

Who’s the idiot now? (The answer is both of you. Both of you are idiots.)

—

The third night, you and Zoro flop onto the hard mattress with twin groans, heads spinning and feeling overall miserable.

“That was the shittiest booze I’ve ever had,” Zoro slurs next to you, face down in his pillow.

“But you got a lead, right?” you mumble.

“Yeah …”

You had been there in the bar when he’d gotten that lead, but you can’t remember what it was for the life of you. Another inn? Another bar? Ugh, you’re never drinking there again.

“I’m cold.”

There are blankets on the bed. Unfortunately, getting underneath them would require a lot of moving, and you are physically incapable of exerting yourself that much right now.

You shiver and turn onto your side to curl up. You’ll fall asleep at some point, anyway.

Zoro murmurs your name.

“Hm,” you groan, eyes screwed shut.

He doesn’t say anything in reply. But you hear the mattress squeak, the bedsheets rustle as he shifts closer, and your breath catches when the small distance between you closes. He does not wrap his arms around you, no, but your knees touch, and the heat from his skin melds into yours. You hear his breathing slow to a crawl.

Through your drunken haze breaks through a sudden need to draw him into you, to tuck your face into his neck and keep it there forever. You want – you want. But you’re exhausted, and your head aches, so you find yourself slipping into a deep slumber instead.

He’s already gone when you wake up.

—

A suspiciously lumpy gunnysack in the corner of the room catches your eye once you enter, hand over your mouth to stifle a yawn.

“What’s in the bag?”

“Eight million beri,” Zoro says from his seat on the bed. Cleaning supplies for his swords are strewn around him, and he sheathes the Wado Ichimonji as you close the door. “I ran into another bounty on the way back.”

“Eight mill –” You clear your throat. “Wow. That was pretty lucky.” Eight million beri. Sometimes you wonder if you’ll ever get used to how much bounty hunters can make. (God, that would’ve been more than enough to pay for the room.) “We’re heading out to a marine base tomorrow morning, then?”

“That’s the plan.”

He puts away his supplies, setting them and his swords against the wall near his pillow before standing up to pull down the sheets on his side. You turn off the bedside lamp and do the same, crawling in with a sigh.

The two of you simply lie side-by-side until you decide to break the silence with your big mouth again.

“Am I a burden to you?” you ask.

“No.” The plainness of Zoro’s tone is a small comfort, you suppose. “Why are you asking?”

“Well …” You already regret bringing this topic up as you trail off, biting your bottom lip. “I feel like I haven’t really done much. I mean, I help with navigating and searching crowds and stuff, and I’ve been getting better at fighting, but I can’t help you, you know?” You fiddle with your fingers. “You don’t actually need me.”

There’s a gap between you and Zoro that you’ll likely never be able to close. You had always known that, and so had Zoro; in fact, he had told you at the start that going with him was a bad idea, given your inexperience in bounty hunting and traveling in general. And although you’d like to think that your ability to read a map and fix things convinced him of your usefulness, there are times when you think Zoro regrets bringing you along. Like now.

Zoro grunts, turning to lay on his back. His shoulder nearly lands on your hands, and you draw them to yourself as you wait for his answer.

It is brief and straightforward.

“I’m not forcing you to go with me,” he says. “And if you were a burden, I would’ve told you a long time ago.”

“Oh.”

It is brief and straightforward, and yet, there’s a strange lump in your throat. You swallow it and nod, even though he cannot see you do so.

Nothing more is said. However, as the night goes on, you reach out, and you find him, and Zoro finds you, and the space between your arms fills up with warmth and an unspoken promise. And you sleep very well.

#aesthetic words prompt list #opla #one piece #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro #opla zoro #one piece live action #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #'if they're broke how come they don't just sleep in reader's boat ?' you may ask.#and the answer is 'for plot purposes'#sorry if this one is wonky it wasn't cooperating for some reason ;-;#but reader gets to cuddle zoro ! that has to count for something right ?!

1K notes · View notes

mitfloya · 7 months

Text

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫

pairings. Xavier x gn!reader

wc. 1K

synopsis. Xavier's unwavering obsession with you transcends the boundaries of time and space. No matter how vast the universe may be, he is determined to find you in every lifetime. With an unyielding determination, he is willing to traverse the furthest reaches, even to the edge of the universe, just to ensure that you are by his side. Any who dare to come between you will be swiftly dealt with, for in Xavier's eyes, you are destined to be together and he will stop at nothing to protect that bond.

warnings. The following content contains elements of obsessive behavior, yandere thoughts, stalking, possessive behavior, and may include poorly written narratives. Reader is referred to as 'you'. Proceed with caution, as this writing may be unsettling or uncomfortable for some individuals.

a/n. In the next week I'll be planning to make my first fic and it will be a yandere themed and planning a big project on my AO3 acc later, also I'm currently busy with making c.ai hsr angsty bots and fluff themed LaDS bots. Be sure to check my fic or bots later! Grab some snacks and I hope you enjoy reading this hc ♡

♡ Please reblog and comment on this post are much, much appreciated ♡

Don't be fooled by his unassuming appearance, for you never know what lies behind that innocent and sunshine-filled face of his.

If you thought Zayne was the hardest to read, then you're wrong.

At first glance, he appears like any regular civilian, hiding his true nature behind a carefully constructed facade. He avoids discussing his background, creating an air of mystery around him.

As time passes and you both continue to cross paths, Xavier's presence in your life becomes more than just coincidence. The moments spent together, the shared laughter, and the mutual support Xavier effortlessly establishes a friendship that feels natural and authentic.

As the bond between you strengthens, Xavier's presence becomes a source of comfort and solace. His unwavering dedication to your well-being is evident in the small gestures of kindness, the thoughtful words, and the unwavering support he provides.

The nicest guy you’ve ever met, he is always there to lend a helping hand, whether it's assisting you with your own challenges or guiding you through difficult situations. His genuine care and concern for your well-being are evident in every interaction, as he goes above and beyond to ensure your happiness and safety.

So how can you ever suspect anything weird when he spends his time reading and sleeping all the time? While he may possess formidable fighting skills and experience, his gentle nature and soothing presence overshadow any doubts that may arise.

Xavier's aura alone brings you comfort, lulling you into a sense of security that makes it nearly impossible to question his motives.

Even if he is physically out of reach, Xavier constantly assures you that he is by your side.

He makes it clear that all you need to do is call for him, and he will come to you, no matter the distance or the obstacles. It is as if he has sworn an unbreakable oath to be your loyal knight, ready to protect and support you at all costs.

In Xavier's eyes, you are the center of his universe, the one person who holds the key to his heart. He sees himself as your guardian, ready to sacrifice anything and everything to ensure your well-being.

Thus why falling for him was easy.

Too easy that you didn’t realize you have fallen into the depths of his twisted love.

Xavier possesses an uncanny ability to blend into society seamlessly, making it nearly impossible for others to suspect his true nature.

From the moment you first encountered Xavier, there was a cosmic force that bound you together, like star-crossed lovers fated to meet repeatedly. Even amidst chaos and unfortunate circumstances, Xavier always finds his way to your side, just as he promised long ago.

It was not cosmic force or fate, it was all his doings.

Death may be your constant companion, but Xavier is your eternal lover. No entity, not even a deity, can come between the inseparable bond that exists between you. Death is merely a phase, he will find you in another life.

From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he knew that you were meant to be his. He firmly believes that your destinies are entwined, that you were never meant for anyone else, and he will go to great lengths to ensure that no one else lays claim to your heart.

To Xavier, you are the sole focus of his existence. Xavier's devotion knows no boundaries, as he is willing to sacrifice anything and anyone to ensure your safety and happiness.

Why do you think he goes extra lengths to provide you with everything? Because he loves you.

Was it a coincidence that he was your neighbor? Of course not!

Every action he takes, every sacrifice he makes, is fueled by a love that surpasses all reason.

He meticulously plans your encounters, orchestrating seemingly random meetings to further deepen the illusion of coincidence.

He has a network of informants and spies who provide him with information about you. He has carefully cultivated relationships with people in your life, gaining their trust and loyalty. These individuals unknowingly feed him information, allowing him to stay one step closer to you at all times.

He lives in the shadows, unseen and unnoticed, but his presence is always felt. He knows your routines, your habits, your deepest fears and desires. His knowledge of you is intimate, as if he has studied every minute detail of your existence.

Would he sacrifice himself for you to continue to live? Without hesitation. To Xavier, your life is the ultimate prize, and he would gladly lay down his own to ensure your survival.

Xavier's perception of the world is warped by his obsession, blurring the lines between what is real and what he desires to be real. He sees you as his possession, his soulmate, his reason for existence.

Time and fate will always be his obstacle as they’re conspiring against his absurd ideas. However, he refuses to be content with mere obsessions or imaginations; he wants you and him to become a reality.

In the early stages, even before being in a relationship, Xavier exhibits subtle signs of jealousy. His protective nature, while initially endearing, can become suffocating as the relationship progresses.

Once you are officially together, his jealousy becomes more pronounced and dangerous, leading to harm or even death for those who dare to steal you away.

No need to check on the news headline. Lifeless bodies scattered like fallen leaves, has become all too common, it’s the cause of wanderer has been ramping up lately, angel.

It was partially not the cause of wanderers.

Even in the face of your defiance, you are acutely aware of the futility of your resistance. He will abduct you, whisking you away to a distant planet, far beyond the reach of prying eyes from the world.

In this alternate reality, you are left with no choice but to accept your fate. The notion of escape becomes nothing more than a distant dream.

The stars become witnesses to your eternal entwining, as the universe itself seems to acknowledge the dark and twisted love that binds you both.

#love and deep space #love and deepspace #love and deepspace headcanons #yandere love and deepspace #yandere hcs #xavier love and deepspace #xavier #shen xinghui #yandere xavier #yandere xavier x reader #yandere xavier x you #yandere xavier x yn #xavier x reader #xavier x you #xavier x y/n #dividers by cafekitsune

454 notes · View notes

xerotiny99 · 6 months

Text

Attention

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x (f) Reader

Warning: smut! Gamer!Yunho, Bored!Reader, Cockwarming, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Oral Sex (m!receiving), Unprotected Sex, Cuddles.

Note: mdni! do not proceed if you are uncomfortable with any aforementioned tags in the warning. this is the first ever smut i wrote, so don't judge.

Gist: Yunho had been gaming a lot, during the day and night. You were starting to get needy, for his attention, and his touch. So, one fateful night you decide to take the matters in your own hands and show him you're better than gaming. Though...would he agree?

Word count: 3,630 words.

Cold bed. You reach out next to you to find the space empty and cold. Where your boyfriend should be, next to you in the bed, is the space you yearn to be warmed by him. Instead, he was busy warming his gaming chair. You weren't the kind of girlfriend to get jealous over little things—let alone be jealous over something so trivial. You did crave his attention, however. Pouting and sulking, tossing and turning in the bed, your eyes move along the lines to find his silhouette hidden by the gaming chair. The tip of the cat ears affixed to his neon blue headphones peak from the headrest of the chair; your pout grows even bigger on your face. You throw the blanket away, letting it furl to the side you hop off the bed and stomp your feet to stand behind him.

In the dimly lit bedroom of yours, the blaring lights from his computer screen flash across and hurt your eyes; you still hold your composure and try your best to not react to him in any way. The lights on his computer screen flicker harshly before turning to a black screen reading 'game over'—and he groans out loud, almost biting back the urge to fling his controller across the room. Yet, he was unbothered by your warmth lingering behind him. He sighs and restarts the game, pushing his thumbs on the controller and grasping it in his hands. You stood behind him with your arms crossed over your chest, your focus never dithering from the man spewing incoherent curses into the microphone.

"Oh god," you mutter under your breath, annoyed.

The night outside was pleasantly drowning in the peace of rains; monsoon was surely a romantic season, unless you have a gamer boyfriend who only views it as an opportunity to game his time away. As the raindrops patter down on your windowpane, a cold and windy breeze wanders through, heckling you with a sudden urge to drown in your boyfriend's warmth. Standing frozen in your spot, staring at the drops of water running down the glass, you eventually do come up with an idea to get your boyfriend off his chair and into the bed. You didn't think twice before slipping past his chair to get down in front of him; he gives you a quizzical look at first, but then shrugs your intentions off and focuses back on the screen. The rattling of his controller and him cursing, are the two sounds dissolving your conscience for any rationality. Pushing his chair slightly off from the desk, you slip your body under the desk upon which his computer was perched on. No hesitation scatters in your head when you pull his chair close, he does yelp to your act, regardless, he doesn't let his concentration waver off for even a second.

It infuriated you.

Of course, it would.

It was time to execute your foolproof strategy.

Kneeling under the desk, and right in front of him, you place your hands on his knees and push his legs apart. He's compliant with your actions because he's long gone into the world of gaming—and your way of distracting him might cost him a win. Keeping one of your hands flat on his knee, you trail your other hand along his inner thigh, inching it closer and closer to his crotch. You were practically drooling at the sight; the faint outline of his cock, through the flimsy material of his sweats, was too much to handle. You needed him, and when that notion crosses your mind, you were filled with fantasies—the same kind which make you squeeze your thighs tightly together.

When you start palming his cock through his sweats, you get his attention.

He whisper-yells at you, eyes affixed to the screen, "babe, what are you doing...stop distracting me."

As if that would stop you. If you're starting something, you're going to go all the way to the end.

You don't utter a word, continuing to palm him—rather now, you were rubbing your fingers along his length. With few more rubs and occasional squeezes, you felt him getting hard under your touch. A victorious smirk stretches your lips, your face shrouded with pride as you glance up at him to find him squinting his eyes shut and breathing heavily. The rise and fall of his chest were a clear indication of how bothered he was; in a way, your tricks were working.

He throws his head back against the chair, his headphones stumbling off from his ears and grunts lowly, "I swear, if you don't stop, there will be consequences."

Of course, you have enough spite in yourself to ignore his said warning. Oh, this was risky, very risky. You do halt your actions for a hot second, admiring the mess he was gradually coming to. His chest heaving in mere attempts to control his staggered breathing, while his eyes half-lidded, were staring down at you. Baring his teeth on his lower lip, his eyes soften in a plea. You were surely not going to stop, even when his brown doe eyes were gleaming with desperation. You do give in, for the time being. Folding your arms over your chest, and leaning back, you offer him a lighthearted jerk of your shoulders to let him know you won't be going any further than this. He smiles at you and resumes to his game—tapping on his controller and speaking into his headset.

"Sorry guys, got caught up in something," he murmurs, "but I'm back."

It was adorable, him being unversed to your tactics. At the same time, you were raging inside—he clearly had a boner, you could see the tent in his pants, yet he wanted to play his game and not want you to take care of it. When he was much engrossed with the game, you bring both of your hands to the waistband of his sweatpants. Not giving it much thought, you pull them down along with his briefs. His cock springs up, standing at the attention you gave it before. Licking your bottom lip, you lurch forward by placing one of your hands on his thigh to support yourself; using your other hand, you wrap your fingers around his cock, and stroke him along the shaft. The moment your hand encompasses his cock, he whimpers his neediness out. His fraught groans and grunts were music to your ears, it meant your plan was working. Guiding the palm of your hand around his length, and rubbing it to and fro, you offer him a conceited smile. To the sensation of your soft hand stroking his now hard cock, he lets a moan slip past his lips. Soon coming to a dire realisation, he bites his lips and shuts himself up. This does not stop you from leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to his reddened tip. A rumble erupts from within his chest—followed by a subtle thump of the controller falling down. You steal a glance at him, finding him with his head thrown back and his lips parted; his eyes clamped shut to the pleasure your hand gave.

"Ah fuck," he curses under his breath, keeping it under the bounds of his mouth; while he does address his companions playing on the other side, "guys...I'm out, ther-there's a-an emerg-emergency."

You've rendered him breathless, and speechless too. The stutter he cased his words around got you too excited—you let your hand slip from his thigh and snake it under the oversized shirt you wore. It was one of Yunho's shirts, which, to your body and size was an oversized shirt; you only wore your panties underneath, having ditched the bra. Your fingertips urged to get close to your dripping pussy, anticipating your touch. You rub along the folds, dipping your forefinger in the slit, while you rub it along—you too, whimper softly. Although, you were starting to get aroused by your own hand, this wasn't solely about you. If you had planned on torturing him with your touches, then you were going to focus on him. You bring your hand out, keeping his eye contact—raising it up, you dart your tongue out and lick up the length of your finger. It must be agonisingly painful to watch, for him. You start sucking on your finger, your stare never breaking with his.

Yunho is amused, very much so. He's bewildered at your wild behaviour—internally, he's taking his pleasure in watching you get bold and cheeky. If this is the result of not giving you enough attention, then he doesn't mind doing it so often.

As for now, you were treading on thin ice. You were aware of it. When you do bring your finger out of your mouth, while still holding his gaze, your heart does a little flip inside your chest. There swirls ambiguity in his haze of brown eyes, devious and dark—you were starting to discern what every speck of black meant in his eyes. Sin. Lust. Carnality. The usual happy go lucky guy had disappeared under the facade of cataclysm. It happens suddenly, his hand snaking around your neck, pulling you close to his cock, while his other hand takes the headphones off. He flings it somewhere; you could hear the somber thudding of it somewhere in the room. Although, that should be least of your concerns when your lips are prodded open by the tip of his cock. He pushes you further, prompting with a click of his tongue to take his cock in. Having no choice to oblige, you do, lowering your mouth and delicately wrapping your lips around him. You suckle softly at the tip, and he continues to push your head down until you feel the very tip hitting the back of your throat.

"You were playing a very risky game there, weren't you, babe?" he feigns his concern as he grunts. "What, sad because I wasn't giving you enough attention? So, now you're an attention-whore?"

You nod, your lips stinging from the stretch you endured for stuffing his cock in your mouth. There would be no delicate way to say he had a big cock, lengthwise and a thick girth too. Your tongue lays flat, till you raise it and lick at under his shaft. For a while, you twirl your tongue around, hollowing your cheeks.

"Ah, so we can use our tongue for better reasons than whining. How fascinating," he slurs his words, throwing his head back. "Do it more." He breathlessly utters, which fuels you to do it more.

It was just tongue action for a few minutes, you didn't bother sucking him off like you'd usually do, neither did he tried thrusting himself into you. All you could do, or perhaps, were forced to do nothing, while your nose was pressed up against his pelvic bone, skin tickling with his pubic hair. It was starting to suffocate you, making it hard to breathe with your face squashed against his crotch. Placing both your hands on either of his thighs, you squeeze at his flesh, and he gets the indication. He pushes your head back; a lewd 'pop' resonates in the air as you back away, saliva drips down your chin, a few drops forming strings with the tip of his cock.

No words were exchanged, what had to be said was said with a gentle nod of his head and you took the sign. Scrambling up on your feet, you cautiously slither out from below the desk and straddle his lap; he's quick to grab your waist to stable you before pulling your shirt over your head. Throwing it off somewhere behind, he leans in to nibble at your perky nipples. The warmth his tongue gives, while swirling around the surface of your tits, entices more of you. This time, you're the one throwing your head back while keeping your hands on his shoulders for support. Nipping, and sucking at your tit, giving the other attention by groping and rolling its sensitive bud in between his thumb and forefinger.

You mewl, shutting your eyes close, feeling your arousal drench your panties. "Yunho, please..."

Hands tangled in his hair now, you push his head into your chest. How the turntables had turned now—what was initially thought to be a torture project for him, was now biting you back. Letting his mouth slip from you, pleased after grazing his teeth and rubbing his tongue over your nipple, he smirks up at you. The absence of his warmth from your chest, makes you glance down at him, catching the most furtive smirk on his face.

"So so desperate for my attention," he tuts, shaking his head, "well, you ruined my game—" he tilts his head to look at the computer screen. Jostling the chair, he pulls himself to the desk and quits the game, disconnecting the computer. "—hmhm, I don't want anyone else listening to you moan and beg for my cock."

There you are, trapped against his body and the desk, its edge digging into your skin, knowing it was leaving marks over your back. The stinging compares to nothing when you hear a loud snap; glancing over, you find Yunho's fingers wrapped around the flimsy straps of your panties, and with his brute strength, he tears them off. Discarding your ruined panties aside, he skims two of his fingers along your wet slit, nudging and rubbing further down till the tip of his fingers circled around your pussy. You close your eyes shut, screwing them tight enough to dissipate the pleasure into breathless moans; Yunho luxuriated himself in the sounds which left your parted lips, the tears which were pooling by the corner of your closed eyes—and by how wet you had gotten for him. Gasping for air, you tighten your hold on his shoulders, and anticipate of what's to come. Before you could react to it any way, Yunho slips two of his fingers inside you, grunting lowly under his breath when he feels your walls clench around them. He doesn't really move them right away, but at a painstakingly slow pace, nudging and thrusting them deep inside.

"Yunho, I need—I need you," you try to make sense of your voiceless moans, opening your eyes in hopes he'd catch the plea in them.

He does.

He does it quite well.

Clicking his tongue, he lets out a playful titter and takes his fingers out of you. He leans in to capture your lips into a passionate and thriving kiss, which, no matter what, only grew fervent with each of your lips lapping and sucking over others'. Yunho's chest rumbles when your hands trace back from his neck to his hair, your fingers tangling with his soft strands.

"Hmm, have patience, darling," he murmurs into the kiss, pulling back to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

His lips curl indecently, the mischievous spark in his eyes conveying the unsaid already to you; grabbing your thighs, he lifts you up gently. Having caught on his intentions, you align his cock with your pussy and sink down—with him guiding you. His grasp on your thighs intensifies, when he feels your pussy engulf his cock in the warmth and tightness. Gradually, and gently, you take all of him in you, causing Yunho to exhale a breath of relief and satisfaction. His chest convulses, raising up high to meet yours, his lips bared with his teeth—both of you were trying to adjust yourself to each other, him to your clenching pussy, and you to his cock. You felt a subtle sting when your walls stretched out for him; neither of you move for a while, both needing time to tune into each other's bodies. Heaving out a strained sigh, you glance at Yunho, lips trembling with anxiety. Regardless of your jitteriness, you dare to roll your hips into his, making his cock thrust itself in you.

Yunho smirks, tutting, "impatient and desperate. Such a whore for my cock."

He doesn't let you respond, bucking his hips upwards, silencing your mouth with his own—his thrusts were rhythmic, adapting to yours, they were concise and short yet you felt his entire cock ram into you. Biting on his lower lip, you let your moans get absorbed into the heated kiss; Yunho, unable to contain your tight tug on his hair and your teeth on his lip, growls, fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs. He heaves out a dry chuckle, pulling back, but doesn't let his thrusts falter. Before you could squeak out his name, you're tumbling down on the carpeted floor. You're writhing and squirming under him, ignoring the ache on your back from the impact of falling. Yunho takes a moment to take his sweatshirt off, along with the shirt he wore underneath it. Throwing it aside, he grabs your thighs by their underside and props them up to your chest; it gives him a better angle to fuck you, to pound his cock into you—and he leaves no room for doubt, when he does thrust deep inside you. You couldn't keep up with his animalistic pace, your chest heaving uncontrollably as you reach out for his shoulders, eventually, you drag your fingernails along his back, hoping to hold onto it for your dear life. Your nails scratch on his skin, leaving trails of clotted blood under it—you screw your eyes shut, and arch your back, feeling ecstatic from the way his cock plunged into you. His hold on your thighs tightens, pushing them further down to your chest, this position helped him reach deeper in you. Continuing to pound mercilessly in you, you feel a knot tighten in the pit of your stomach, making you feel hot out of nowhere. Sweat covers both of your body like a thin sheet, glowing on your skin; a few sweat drops trickle down from his forehead and drip down on your face. He leans over to lick them off, tracing his tongue to your lips later on—he presses a gentle kiss, before murmuring foul words into your ear.

"A good little slut, taking me in so deep, and so obediently," he whispers, licking the shell of your ear, he bites down your earlobe and continues, "fuck, don't hold back...make some noise for me."

And you do, letting it all go, scouring your voice from your lungs as you moan, "Yunho, I'm close..."

"A little more," he grunts.

In those hot seconds, he goes complete berserk; thrusting deep and fast, making your body tremble as the knot tightens in your lower stomach. You knew you couldn't withstand the abuse of his cock any longer, you arch your back off the floor, letting our voiceless moans as if you were being strangled by pleasure. As his cock reaches deep into your cunt, you let a scream rip through your chest—you couldn't hold it in anymore. The tightness in your stomach on the verge of loosening, just coming undone when you hear him chuckle; he grunts loudly, scrunching his face and burying it in the crook of your neck. He couldn't handle your clenching pussy around him either and he was close too. Really close.

You take a sharp intake of breath, your chest heaving up into his—you let go. Relaxing your muscles, you give into the soreness and feel yourself coming undone; your climax hits you harder than anticipated, rupturing your senses to the absolute pleasure you felt. Your release dribbles down your thighs, trickling along your skin as you try to ease yourself down. Your ragged breathing soon turns placid and quiet; although, Yunho's struggling grunts and moans tell you how close he was to his own climax. His thrusts become more concise and more intense, keeping his head buried in your neck; he tried in his own way to relax himself—and soon, he was cumming inside you.

The warmth of his release makes you full. His thrusts become concise and short, he rides his high out, easing in and out of your pussy. Eventually, he pulls out and lays next to you on the floor; both of you unable to move because of lethargy. He snakes his arm around your waist and leans his head sideways on your shoulder, you're both breathless to speak of anything. But even so, Yunho's mumbling becomes prominent and clear to your ears.

"I don't mind giving you attention if you distract me like this..."

You were relighted by the thought but at the same time, infuriated and defeated.

"You would still choose your game over me?" you whisper.

"As long as you get my attention, I don't think that matters, does it?" he turns on his side to wrap his body around you, snuggling close to you and peppering your cheek with kisses.

"But I think I can compromise...you're better than gaming."

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #jeong yunho #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho smut #yunho #ateez yunho #yunho x reader #atz

291 notes · View notes

krispycreamcake · 2 months

Text

Yui Komori girlfriend hcs ♡♡

🌷- Ok so everyone usually thinks of Yui as timid or generally soft spoken

🌷- Personally I think she's just extremely patient. Obviously the anime does her no justice, but I think she enjoys giving others the room they need to talk

🌷- As a girlfriend, my immediate thoughts are empathetic, caring, thoughtful, etc. I'm sure everyone can agree

🌷- But other than her kind nature, what kind of girlfriend would Yui actually be?

🌷- I imagine her to be someone who sends pictures of stray cats with a wall of text describing their every move and whether the cat likes her or not

🌷- She also seems to be the type of person to enjoy late night visits/calls when she's feeling overwhelmed or maybe just bored

🌷- I picture her to enjoy scrapbooking and insists on walking with her camera everywhere you two go so she can take pictures

🌷- She'd be the type of person to order food at a restaurant after insisting she doesn't want the same dish you got, but then proceeds to steal half your meal

🌷- I feel like she's very financially aware? That's an odd one but I imagine her to call you while you're busy to tell you how the price of milk has raised while shopping and have a half hour long discussion on the cost of milk brands

🌷- She's always the one to get rid of the creepy crawlies, as a matter of fact she insists on not killing it and allowing her to take it outside instead

🌷- She appreciates romantic gestures but might make a joke if it's super corny, like standing outside her window with a stereo, even if it was for shits and giggles

🌷- Has a playlist on your YouTube account for cooking recipes and could not care less when you tell her she has her own phone

🌷- Speaking of phone, she has an Android. SUE ME.

🌷- Likes to take candid photos to make stickers that you both embarrass each other with

🌷- Likes matching profile pictures because then her bio gets to be "matching with ___!"

🌷- Date nights aren't something she expects from you, but eventually notices the pattern and takes a mental note that you both go out for ice cream on Saturday nights

🌷- You both share a charger. Whether it was yours or hers that got lost in the void or dismantled beyond repair by some supernatural force, you both now share a single, barely working charger

🌷- Speaking of sharing, you both each have some kind of clothes from each other that you've adopted as your own. It literally doesn't matter if it's underwear or t-shirts, it's both yours now and no one can expect to be getting them back

🌷- Begs you to make tanghulu with her ever since it became trendy and has a plethora of videos in her camera roll dedicated to you guys just eating food

🌷- She likes physical touch. Your hand could be on her lap or vice versa, or just simply laying next to each other while waiting for a commercial to pass by, she enjoys feeling your body warmth

🌷- You guys almost always have sleepovers like middle school girls where you stay up the entire night talking about dumb topics or giggling at stupid jokes, high off of the positive atmosphere

🌷- Rented a Vespa one time and had you sit in the tiny little passenger seat

🌷- She loves making meals and buying gifts for you, literally her favourite thing to do is watch your reaction at all the hard work she put into making you have a better day

🌷- Promise rings obviously

🌷- Hmm maybe matching necklaces too

🌷- You tried making flan and both had to sit there and stomach what could only be described as resident evil food

🌷- Loves you so much that if she could take the moon and wrap it in a cute bow and put it under the Christmas tree, she really would

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers fandom #diabolik boys #yui komori #diabolik lovers yui #dialovers fandom #dialovers #diabolik lovers x you #diabolik lovers x reader #headcanon #anime x reader #diabolik lovers laito #ayato sakamaki #laito sakamaki #diabolik lovers subaru #diabolik lovers shu #fanfic

172 notes · View notes

verosikastrikerstellaexcuser · 3 months

Text

Soooo. The new Helluva Boss pride thing and that comment about Striker and Stella not being there. I am genuinely more and more irritated by this "Strikers Straight" horse shit as time goes on.

Really? This guy is your no-pride straight homophobe? -_-

How in any way was this scene not homosexual in nature. Like am I just stupid or what? Striker was specifically latching onto how Blitz is strong and impressive for making his own business and gassing him up over it even before there was a need to to still carry out his assassination "Not many imps start businesses on their own... thats pretty impressive sir". There's clear admiration there. He suggests Stolas dying would be good because it would end "the one who treats you like a plaything" he implies he'd like to see Stolas dead not only for his own sake and for his hate of royals, but for Blitz's sake too. Like, HELLO!?

I'm sorry but the more I look back on it, the whole Striker's straight thing does feel like a retcon. He wasn't originally. I believe that he was changed, because he's mean about Stolas and "good ones" rich people, and we can't have that. He's an antagonist to Stolitz AND a potential "shipped with Blitz" character so he's not a pet/favoured villain or morally grey character. No, instead hes just full on MEANIE BAD!!!! Who's only purpose is creating Stolitz drama. Making him straight is a way of trying to make him boring and more laughable to the yaoi obsessed audience (if you like gay male ships YOU ARE FINE I DO TOO I'm specifically talking about the ones who take it to a fetishistic degree and are raging misogynists). The less Striker is able to be paired up with other male characters in this show, the less value he has outside of being a joke and the less interest in exploring relationships with him there will be since so often do only gay male relationships get to have any interesting depth. Note how other male characters who aren't in gay relationships are treated by this show, COUGH MOXXIE.

And you know what the saddest part of this is to me? In this one single Striker and Blitz scene, they literally had more chemistry and were a more interesting dynamic than Stolitz despite several episodes of that god awful ship. Think about it. They both have clear admiration and respect for each other, interest in each other. They've both been mistreated by royals and had rough pasts so understand each other on that level. They've both had to claw their way to success at the cost of great struggle. So now, they're conflicted. Because they're both obstacles to each other as much as they are love interests. Striker does not want to compromise slaughtering royals and wants to do his job. Blitz wants to preserve his business. They are competing over their goals in life while also attracted to each other. They are a "toxic" or complicated ship without there having to be a creepy unaddressed power dynamic and without the empowered one constantly needing to be portrayed as victimized by the narrative to try and make the relationship seem more even and less creepy.

This is so much more interesting as a kind of "relationship that never could be", to me, than "OMG my daddy bought me that imp for a day as a child then he randomly reappeared into my life again and stole from me, so now I will hold his business over his head to get sex from him and constantly demean him. All while he clearly indicates that he is repulsed by me. Then I will proceed to cry he doesn't like me romantically!"

But no. Striker doesn't get to be bi or gay. However, pan IS slapped onto several female characters... THAT NEVER GET ANY SCENES WITH WOMEN LIKE STRIKER GOT WITH BLITZ. Good fucking God man! If you're gonna make all these supposed women that like women, WHY DO NONE OF THEM BARELY EVER EXPRESS INTEREST IN WOMEN THAT WE GET TO SEE!?

Only the men's sexualities are actively shown. The women, we need to be told what their sexuality is. Because Viv hardly ever bothers with pairing them with anyone or letting them express sexual behaviors. Tiring.

#helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #vivziepop critical #hb critical #striker #blitziker #stolitz critical #anti stolitz #stolitz hate #stolas critical #stolas hate #anti stolas #critical stuff

283 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

Text

You Make Me Wanna 4

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, best friend’s dad trope other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You don't hear from Faye. You don't expect to. Can you blame her? You're much happier with your absentee dad than an overbearing brute like hers. And it's fair to assume you snitched her out, why would she suspect her own father of tracking her phone?

That's deranged. Truly. Once more, you're thankful that no one really cares enough to be strict with you. Sometimes you swear your mom forgets she even has kids.

She's on the porch that day when you leave for work. You have the green grocery store blouse on with a pair of thrift store slacks that don't breathe. It's hot out and many of your neighbours are hiding inside with their window fans and raggedy old AC units buzzing. Some kids run through a sprinkler at the end of the street and two men drink cold ones on their stoop.

The block can be shady but it's home to you. The few times Faye came around were fleeting. She only stopped by to pick you up or drop you off. You often caught the look in her face, that one of judgment but pity.

You don't hold it against her. She can't help the gap between you. You've accepted your place. You'll ruin your arches slaving away as a cashier and she would have stopped talking to you anyway once she finished school. Frankly, you're surprised she hasn't already.

A honk makes you jump. You stop short as a car pulls up in front of you before you can cross. You back up as you recognise the finish. You cross your arms. What the hell?

You go to circle around the back of the car and he shifts into reverse. You huff and he rolls forward as you go back the other way. You stop and stomp your foot. The window rolls down on your side.

"Mr. Marshall, I'm on my way to work," you grit.

"You? Work?" He says.

Your rage simmers and you measure your breath. He's not going to ruin your day. You stand still and stare over his car.

"Some of us have to," you sniff, "isn't that what you always said?"

"Didn't realise you listen to me," he scoffs.

"Are you going to let me pass?" You snip.

He's quiet as he idles by the corner. He leans over the passenger seat to see you better, "you got home safe."

"Don't act like you care," you retort, "alright? If you're looking for Faye, I haven't heard from her. Besides, don't you have GPS?"

"I didn't say anything about Faye," he insists.

You curl your fingers as your frustration mounts, "then why are you bothering me?"

"I'm on duty. Was in the neighbourhood," he says coolly.

"Right, sure," you mutter and check your phone.

"Gonna be late? Hop in."

"You're not serious. After last time--"

You stop yourself. Why is he doing this? He just wants a rise out of you but why? Why do you matter to him? He only ever thought of you as a bad influence for his angel of a daughter. They can both piss off.

"You really don't let things go," he chuckles.

"Speak for yourself," you sneer.

"So... this your neighbourhood?"

You turn on your heel and cross the other way. You're done. You're not going to stand there and be mocked. Maybe if he ever asked instead of glaring and growling, he'd know more than he assumed.

You don’t look back and he doesn’t follow. You’re happy at least for that. You get your fair share of jackasses at work, one on the way is too much.

🌙

Your shift drags on. You’re thankful for the air conditioning but not the work. Customers barter over the cost of potatoes or complain that you’re out of their preferred seasoning. You try to look like you care but that’s the hardest part of the job.

The dinnertime rush peters out and you lean on your till. Brandy goes to stock the shelves with Ricky as Ariel texts away on her phone. The monotony is set to drive you crazy, that and the dad rock wafting from the speakers and droning through the mostly empty aisles.

You pore over an Archie comic as the seconds tick by. You’re only taken away from Riverdale as you sense a shadow at the end of your lane. You stand up and close the magazine, tucking it back on the shelf. You nearly let your disappointment bubble out to sigh as you recognise your customer.

Walter sets down a glass bottle of root beer and one of the ready-made meals from the deli. You don’t say a word as you push them across the scanner and to the other side of your till. You hit total.

“Cash or credit?”

He doesn’t answer. He steps close to the other side of the till and looks over easily at you. You squint back with derision.

“Sir, you gotta pay--”

“Is it any good?” He points to the tray of rice and fixings on the far end of the till. “The General Tao chicken? Don’t want crunchy rice.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I can put it back on the shelf if you don’t want it.”

“If you had to recommend something--”

“I don’t eat that stuff. Too pricey,” you focus on keeping your eyes from rolling back in your head.

“Sure, still cheaper than the burger joint across the lot,” he takes out his wallet, “long day. I’m starving.”

You tap the machine to signal him to pay. He taps his card and you print his receipt. You place it on top of the tray of chicken and rice and reach for the Archie comic once more.

“So you haven’t heard from Faye?” He asks.

“I knew--” you stop yourself, “no, Mr. Marshall,” you lean back and open the book, fluttering through to find your page, “she isn’t my daughter.”

He lets a breath out heavily through his nostrils. He grabs his soda and the chicken. You ignore him for the antics of Jughead, his existence lingering just along the edge of your vision before slowly stalking off.

You can’t help but wonder why he’s looking for Faye and if she’s okay.

#walter marshall #dark walter marshall #dark!walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #drabble #series #au #the club #you make me wanna #night hunter

242 notes · View notes

visual-freak · 3 months

Text

Saiki Kusuo Headcanons

Note: doing this because I need a way to let these thoughts out of my head

- he’s definitely the type to eat & drink your own food the second you turn your head away and will pretend as if your piece of cake missing a bite wasn’t his doing

- he’ll buy you a new one don’t worry (and proceed to take a bite out of that one too) (yall he literally drank teruhashis smoothie while invisible simply because😭)

- DO NOOOOOT try to engage in PDA with him. He will find and try every way to avoid it at any cost. It creates to much attention towards him.

- he’ll make up to you later in private

- the type to teleport to your room at random times when he “needs your help” with something

- he wanted an excuse to be around you, though if you try and say that to him he’ll leave to try and prove a point. (He’s gonna come back eventually)

- He will stalk you

- this is canon, and if you say otherwise..you’re lying

- he literally stalks his friends all the time in the series to make sure they’re okay. Though he claims it’s because if he doesn’t then it’ll inconvenience him in some way

- but yeah, you’re not at school one day? Using clairvoyance to figure out where you at

- decide to take a walk alone at night for some reason? He’s using invisibility and is lowkey right behind you

- He practically has your entire routine memorized to the beat

-How’d he know you love coming to this corner store afterschool to get this specific snack? Lucky guess🤷🏾‍♀️

- He was most definitely not the one to confess

- how you got him to actually commit to being with you is beyond my abilities as a writer ✋🏾😔

-but he is extremely loyal

-buddy does not play about his partner

- teruhashi? Now he’s definitely working overtime to get her to get OVER him, avoiding her like the black plague

- might even use his annoyed face (jkjk he knows that her minions might actually murder him somehow someway)

- it’s going to take him a LOONG time for him to tell you about his powers.

- like he would need to trust you A TON

-but when you do find out and you’re cool with it, it’s definitely a lot of weight off his shoulders

- someone he can actually talk to about his problems openly

- speaking of his powers he’s not letting kusuke ANYWHERE NEAR YOU

-ABSOLUTELY NOT

- his brother as shown in the series will use anything and ANYONE to get to kusuo just so he can beat him at SOMETHING

-God forbid his brother tries bringing you into his sadistic little game of his, who knows what kusuo will do

- also his parents adore you. Especially his mother

- she invite you over a lot, whether it’s for tea, cooking lessons or a special event

- his grandparents are waiting for your wedding (to kusuo’s displeasure, he’s sick of hearing them saying that)

-there’s been multiple times kusuo will simply just drag you to his room for some privacy or just go somewhere outside the house.

- but that would usually mean bumping into your others nuisances friends.

- which he will ever so slightly lean into your side as a way of telling you he wants to leave

- ok my brain has stopped functioning. Good night and enjoy!

#saiki k #saiki k x reader #kusuo saiki #saiki no psi nan #saiki kusuo #kusuo saiki x reader #kusuo x reader

386 notes · View notes

literaila · 1 year

Text

untrustworthy

tasm!peter x reader

summary:

"are you mad at me?"

"did you get me bologna sandwiches?"

warnings: angst, alludes to depression, lost of interest, pushing people away, this is a pining fic because they’re not actually together, angst, fluff at the end, peter sucks but he’s also great?

a/n: i haven’t written anything in weeks and this is so terrible but take it or leave it. i am.

if you've learned anything in the past year, it's that you couldn't trust peter parker.

you couldn't trust him to finish his portion of your shared slideshow for your physics class. and you shouldn't have trusted him to tell you if he couldn't get it done before the due date--sparing you both from the wide-eyed, slightly over-amused gazes of classmates who thought peter's "the end" slide was purely a comedic stroke, and not just laziness, or a miserable attempt to pretend he hadn't cost you thirty percent of your grade.

and even after, you couldn't trust him not to give you a look--his signature look--sending you plummeting towards forgiveness before he'd even gotten the chance to apologize.

you couldn't trust peter parker to pick up a mutual friend's birthday cake or get himself home safely without cracking his glasses, or not to eat all of the cookies that may made for you on his way to your apartment. you wouldn't trust him to wash your dishes or sleep on your couch without burning the entire building down.

it was a dangerous thing, you'd realized, about three months after you'd met him, to try and count on him.

peter parker would borrow a pen from you, flicking his hair your way and smiling that charming smile, and then proceed to give it back to you at your thirty-year reunion. or never.

you'd learned not to expect him to show up for anything on time, ask him to pick anything up for you, or let him do laundry in your apartment.

peter parker was anything but dependable. and if you could give the past version of yourself any advice, it would be not to trust him.

not to let that foolish hope exist before it was crumbled between strong hands like a grocery receipt, never to be seen again.

you wouldn't let that faded, reliable version of peter exist.

you couldn't trust peter parker to do anything or make any promise he would actually keep.

you couldn't even trust him to stay away from you when you wanted space the most; like now.

because as soon as you heard that knock on your door, a bitter part of you was scowling at the intrusion, cursing your friend for bothering to exist or always showing up when you didn't want him to.

and you knew that just like every other thing peter did, he wouldn't take no for an answer. even if you didn't answer the door. even if you threw your phone down into the garbage disposal.

you were pretty sure peter could pick a lock. and also slightly suspicious that he'd had a copy of your key made behind your back.

so when peter walks into your living room, hair dripping from the rain, arms full of grocery bags, you aren't surprised.

you barely even blink at him before returning your attention to your tv, where a couple was viciously debating the cost of crown molding.

his presence is its own curse because you can feel every movement he makes, just like always.

"hey," peter says, smiling evilly. he ignores your ignoring. doesn't even mind the fact that you haven't looked at him. "i brought you some stuff."

he kicks his shoes off--into your living room, of course, mud sticking to your carpet--and heads to the kitchen.

"just some basics," he continues, not bothering to listen to any reply, verbal or not. "bread, eggs, milk. i got you some disgusting orange jello and a couple of those pre-made sandwiches they make at the deli. they're a bit... flat, but they should be okay still."

you turn the volume up.

peter doesn't mind. "there's also some protein bars in there--chocolate--just in case you want something quick," he walks back into the room, holding a glass bottle. "and i saw this banana-flavored soda when i was walking out, for us to try and throw up together."

he shakes the bottle around, smile on his idiotic face, not even bothering to think about the harsh reality of carbonation.

"open that over the sink," you mumble to him, still not meeting his eyes.

you curse your weak willpower for ruining your silent game. and peter, for knowing that he would win eventually.

peter tilts his head, tsking at you. "not even a thank you for your very thoughtful, handsome--" he plops down next to you, moving your legs so that he can tickle your feet. "and genius best friend?"

"thanks, peter."

instead of looking over at the man who was definitely trying to get you to yell at him, you choose to watch the ceiling on the tv crumble over brand-new hardwood.

you frown.

peter runs his hand up your calf, goosebumps riding his wake. "are you mad at me?"

"did you get me bologna sandwiches?"

"no, turkey."

"then no."

peter removes his hand. "what's wrong with the bologna?"

"they put rat poison in it."

peter pokes your thigh. "and you've been letting me eat it? you know i love those sandwiches."

you turn even further on your side, wall going up between the two of you, forcing his hand off, mumbling, "wanted to test a theory."

"what theory?"

finally, your eyes meet his--stupid brown, caring, auburn, and hateful eyes. "if rat poison would kill you or not."

peter scoffs.

you let your lip quirk up, irritated at his perfect mouth and thoughtful grocery list, and warm hands climbing up your stomach, and then look away. back to the house infested with termites. if there's anything to hate, it's adoration. the ridiculous attachment you have to him, even now.

"are you calling me a vermin?"

you roll your eyes. "well, you're not dead so..."

and it was all normal. peter sitting this close and trying to mold himself into your skin, the puppy eyes he was trying to give you, and his devious smirk. his teasing and lack of common sense, his stupid jokes, and stupid thoughtfulness, ruining the silent treatment you'd meant to give him. the space you'd been forcing between the two of you.

it was all normal, but you can feel him lurking, waiting for a moment to say something. you can feel him staring at you.

"what?" you say, sharp and rough, after thirty seconds of it being too much. of peter being too close and too quiet.

his presence is a burden on your heart.

peter's hands began to massage your legs, forcing you to let him in closer than you want him to be. "what, what?" he repeats.

your eyes meet his with defenses already prepared. "what are you doing here, peter?"

the words are weapons. one punch to the jaw and a knife shoved into his back.

you're trying to get him off of you, get him out that door and back into the world where he belongs so that you could stay here and rot, just like you want to.

but peter's eyes stay soft, his hands are kind and his intent is obvious. he isn't trying to fight with you.

he blows out a breath. "what're you doing here?"

you both stare at each other for a moment and then you look away, shaking your head. "i live here."

"you know that's not what i mean."

"do i?" you ask, voice sarcastic and mean. and it would be fine--usually. you and peter are mean to each other for sport.

but he wasn't being anything but easy. careful as he stretched your muscles out like he could tell that you hadn't used them in days.

trust peter to break your only rule.

it was silent again; only the sounds of commercials in the background, a woman swearing that aleve changed her life.

peter clears his throat. "why haven't you been answering my calls?"

"lost my phone."

"and class?"

"i've been sick."

"you missed an exam," he pushes. "you're gonna have to make it up."

"already emailed connaly."

"good." peter swallows, and you can feel his pounding, his questions even when he's not asking them.

you want to push him off of the couch. you want to push him off of you, leave bruises from the fall, and tell him to find someone who can be his friend. who can do this.

you want to be understanding, and as careful as he is. you love him enough to not scream, even if you want to.

"peter, i really just want to be alone, so--"

"when's the last time you ate?"

you sigh, pulling away from him.

but peter has a firm hold on your legs, and even if you tried, you couldn't kick him away.

"when was the last time you showered?"

"i've been sick, peter, it doesn't--"

"left the house?" he prods. "or moved from the couch? when was the last time you looked in the mirror?"

you sit up, looking at him without meeting his eyes. "you should go. i could still be contagious." the words are tense, your face is stone, unmoving, and unwilling to do any of this with him.

peter moves closer to you, his hands lingering just inches away from your marble face. "what's going on?" he asks, so softly that you can barely feel it on your plastered skin.

his concern and care, his stupid face and stupid eyes and--

"i can't do this, peter."

"you need to talk to me," he says, without even processing what you've said. "you need to tell me what's happening because it's been almost two weeks since i've seen you, and this..." he gestures around the room.

a place that used to be your home.

"what happened?"

and if anyone could get it out of you--pull the secrets you have hidden in your chest, ignoring your screams of pain--it would be peter. he would be the person that you talked to.

that is if you wanted to talk at all.

if you wanted to move from his couch and look into his eyes like you had been for months before this. like he was more than a classmate, or friend who had stuck to you. like he was someone who you wanted to care about.

someone with perfect lips and wonderful eyes and an addicting laugh.

someone who you might want to tell more, share more.

the person that you'd been a month ago would've told peter. even unsure if he could keep that secret or stay with you, you would've told him. trusted him that much. more than he deserved.

but the person sitting on your couch staring into those same eyes doesn't want anything.

to move or breathe or have to tell peter that you just don't care anymore.

that whatever you have to tell him is gone, that your words and voice have been ripped from your chest, that this couch, this distance you've been trying to build is the only remedy to fix the hole that remains.

but you don't want to see him. you don't want to tell him anything. you don't want to breathe his air and risk infecting him.

"nothing, peter. i'm fine."

"you look like you've spent the last month in the hospital."

"well, you look like a goddamn swimsuit model, so i guess we're even."

you're watching as his serious face shifts, and you can see it as he fights back a laugh, his eyes just barely flickering.

and you wish that you didn't care. you wish so badly that it didn't matter. you look away, thinking to pretend that none of this exists.

you've had enough nightmares like this lately.

"hey," peter says, one fingertip turning your eyes back to his. and you know it's not a dream, because your imagination can never get those eyes just right. "i'm here to listen. whatever it is. we'll work it out. i just need you to talk to me."

"i told you, there's nothing--"

"and you've got to stop lying to me like i can't tell."

you scowl.

peter's eyebrows lift, a fraction of affection appearing on his face. "c'mon, just tell me. i won't laugh."

you look down, at his hand resting on your thigh, and the hole you've burned into the couch.

you don't want to look at his eyes anymore. you're tired of trying to look away. and not talking to him.

you sigh. "nothing, peter. just..." you blink, but it's not enough to push his regard off of you. to rid yourself of the toxins he's breathed into you.

you were almost immune to them, just a few weeks ago. mithridatism only works if it's consistent.

and his eyes are more dangerous when you haven't seen them.

you freeze. "there's nothing," you repeat, defenses falling, hands going to push him away from your face.

and peter knows what's going to happen before you do. "hey," he says, already soothing. "whatever it is..."

and peter grabs you before you fall. he catches that first tear, and it's his forever. his arms fold around your shoulder, his strong hands keeping your head up.

"there's nothing. it's all gone. everything i want, everything i--"

his hands are tilting your face up to his but you can't look at him. you can't look into his perfect eyes and feel ashamed of yourself anymore.

you're sick and tired of feeling sorry for yourself.

"i can't feel anything, peter. i don't want to do anything but sit here and hope that eventually, this feeling goes away. that it all just..." you shake your head, feeling him invade you.

and then you lean in and let peter hold you up.

you hadn't even realized that you were crying. hadn't realized how far down you'd pushed the words until they were bubbling up.

bile crawling up your throat.

"i'm sorry," you whisper to him, just before he crushes you into a hug, your head buried into his neck. your tears staining his perfect skin. "i'm so sorry."

peter shakes his head against you, holding you even closer.

and you can't breathe with how tight he's holding you, but this sort of breathlessness is welcome. much better than the other kind.

you laugh against him, feeling how sore your body is. how angry you are with yourself.

"i've got you," peter whispers, into your hair, kissing your forehead. "we'll figure it out."

you shake your head but say nothing.

you finally breathe him in, desperate after denying yourself for so long. you don't have to worry about anything as long as peter is right there.

"god," he says, after a few minutes pass. "i'm sorry i didn't come sooner. i thought..."

thought you were okay, you can hear. thought that you needed space, that time was a perfect solution.

"not your fault," you mumble into him.

peter leans back, just so that you'll look up at him. "why didn't you tell me? you know i would've come," he says, "if you'd just called."

"i didn't want--" you swallow, looking away. "i didn't want you to know. or see."

peter scowls. "what did you think would happen? i would leave? or tell you to get over yourself?"

"maybe."

"are you insane?"

"maybe."

peter doesn't even laugh. he makes you look at him again, not knowing how cruel those eyes of his are. "i would've stayed," he tells you, "no matter what. even if you told me that you murdered someone. or run over a squirrel with your bike. i would've been there. i'm going to be there."

his jaw is tense and his eyes are so serious, but you sniffle, shaking your head. "even if i murdered a squirrel?"

"i mean... it would be hard. but i'd do it."

you laugh.

he swallows, shaking his head. "you need to tell me what's going on, okay? instead of ghosting me for two weeks, acting like you died or something."

"i answered a couple of your texts."

peter glares at you.

"okay. i'm sorry."

he shakes his head again, almost smiling, if a little bit sad. "are you okay?"

you fall back into him, suffocating yourself into his shoulder. you don't want to answer that, and hope that peter doesn't push.

for once, he does what you want, wrapping his arm back around you, pulling you in closer.

"okay," he says, and breathes with you.

you sit with him for a few seconds, glad that he's there, and then you ask, "how'd you get in?" voice muffled by his shirt.

"it was unlocked, you idiot."

you frown, looking up at him.

peter laughs.

"no, it wasn't."

his eyes return to normal, deviance stuck in his expression. "i used my key," he answers, innocently.

trust peter to ruin the moment.

my masterlist here.

tags:@moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf @thestudiouswanderer @take-my-hand-time-boy @thoughtsofagodlovingsunflower @nyomjoon @moo-b1tch @raindropstearsandtea @rqmanoff @hollandweather @wetcoldnoodle @urlocalavenderhazestan @valvlry @imthatcoolmom @spideysimpossiblegirl invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @sharkswaters @rowniebow @anaislfbv @take-my-hand-time-boy @mileyc111 @starsval @ratsys

950 notes · View notes

diabolicalacid · 2 months

Text

birds of a feather— the head and the heart

warning/s : nsfw (smut), minors DNI.

atsumu’s hand reaches for the dial to turn off the sound system of his car. the soft music in the backdrop of him and you fades as his fingers rotate the dial to zero. he puts his foot on the break, halting the car in front of the gate to your dormitory, exactly where he had parked it when he received you in the morning.

you surmise this is your cue to leave. today has been fun, not it’s time to end the day, go your separate ways. you don’t want to, but that’s what the deal between the two of you was. a day full of fun, then it’s all over.

you take a look at your cellphone, checking in the time. it’s half past ten, a little before your curfew. if you don’t hurry, they won’t let you in. you twist your body in order to take hold of your belongings from his backseat, but he quickly makes an effort to grab your shoulder. he stops you in your tracks.

“wait.” he orders, opening the door to his car.

he alights, voice fading in a distance, “i’ll get it for you.”

atsumu quickly opens the door to the backseat and grabs all of your stuff, including the bouquet of flowers he offered you this morning. he proceeds to make his way to the door to the passenger seat. he swings it opens it for you, holding out his hand for you to take. for a moment, you find yourself hesitating.

you wonder if a few more moments of proximity with this man might cost you your dignity. if you let him hold you at the end of day, you’d start thinking it’s unfair how this good thing has to come to an end, and you’d beg for him to make it last longer. you’d lose your footing, end up looking extremely desperate, but you’d want him to have you regardless. despite deductions, you’re quick to accept his offer.

you place your palm over his. he wraps his hand around yours, helping you out of the car seat. you push the car door behind you. he hands you your tote bag and the bouquet of flowers. you receive it, offering him a gentle smile. he doesn’t let go of your hand, and you find it difficult to hold everything using one hand.

atsumu notices, relieving you of your tote bag. your hand is still held by his. you gulp as he pulls you closer to him. his hand releases your own and finds your waist, and he’s smiling softly at you. he really isn’t making this easy, if anything, you think you’re about to combust into a thousand burning flames. you’ll just take the liberty to pretend you haven’t been feeling the exact way since the beginning.

he takes the initiative, “i’ll drop you off to your room.”

“you don’t have to.” you’re quick to refuse his kind offer, coming off rather impolite.

you need to consider that amane san must be on rounds right now, and the last thing you want is to get caught sneaking in a perfect stranger into your room. as far as things with tobio went, amane was well acquainted with him, so she stopped taking things seriously after one point. but atsumu is a completely new entity, and you don’t want to wreak a havoc.

his hand that is enveloping your waist, tightens it’s hold around your figure, drawing you closer to his body, and you seek support, holding onto his arm. he insists, “but i want to.”

you want to deny deny deny, but his hold on you is making you so damn weak. your heart is a gullible child not even your head can convince otherwise. then there’s also the second surprise you prepared for atsumu, staying up all night yesterday. you were planning to discard it, since you thought you overdid yourself. but in the end you surmised that it would be best to hand it over.

though you intended on making him wait by the car so that you could make your way to your room and grab the gift to bring it to him, now it seems it wouldn’t hurt to invite the man to your room. whatever follows this bold decision of yours will be purely as intended by destiny.

as much as you’d like to shift the blame on the gift you prepared, deep down you know that your heart is the full fledged culprit. you’ve never been a bold person, but right now, you’re overflowing with courage you never knew you had.

you’ve snuck in tobio plenty of times without ever getting caught, so atsumu shouldn’t be a problem either. you’ll just have to play it safe. you’ll have to make him follow your instructions to the t, and it’ll be just fine. nothing to worry about per se.

“okay.” you grant him the permission to take you to your room, taking a step away from him. you don’t mention that you plan on inviting him inside.

atsumu’s smile widens and gaze locks into yours. It’s so contagious, you find yourself smiling back at him. he chuckles, mentioning a crucial point, “not sure where you stay, you’ll have to be the one to guide me, cutie.”

he pokes your cheek, you swat his hand off your face, glaring at his action. you growl, “let me go.”

but he isn’t swayed. so you request, “please?”

atsumu withdraws the hand placed around your waist. you try to encase his hand in your own, but yours is just too small to cut the deal. you drop his huge hand in frustration.

atsumu chuckles at you. your glare intensifies furthermore. you decide not to entertain him, commanding as you start walking toward your dormitory, “follow.” and so he does.

once you reach the lobby, you find yourself at crossroads once again. whether to invite him in or not to invite him in. it’s a pressing matter that needs to be thought through.

the possibilities are endless, and you aren’t sure which amongst them is the most favourable for you, or if you’ll ever reach the ending you so desperately desire for.

you think for a moment or two. he isn’t sure what the hold up is. now that he’s safely escorted you in, the next obvious thing to do should be to say your goodbyes and go your own ways. the one day contract between him and you should officially end as of right now, and you should be treading your own separate paths, never colliding again.

you give in. your heart gives in. you decide you want to invite him to your room. whatever may be the consequences, you’ll come to face them bravely when you have to.

you muster the courage to speak up. nervously rubbing the skin of your arm as you ask him, “i’ve prepared something for you. do you mind coming to my room?”

it isn’t an understatement to say that he’s shook. you’re quite bold to bring that up, and he wasn’t expecting it. neither were you. but here you are, asking him to come over, and here he is, contemplating whether it’s a good idea to go over.

he doesn’t give it much thought. he thinks for a second, then decides to go for it, agreeing, “alright, i don’t mind.”

“but no naughty business, cutie.” he winks at you, teasing as he pulls you in his embrace, hands casing your waist, bodies hanging only a few centimetres apart.

your cheeks instantly flush a deep red shade, and your gaze drops to the floor. you mumble, rolling your eyes, “i don’t know which one one of us needs the warning more.”

atsumu moves a loose strand of your hair out of the way, and tucks it behind your ear, inching in closer to your face to whisper to you, “exactly what are your intentions with me, cutie?”

you cannot take it anymore, it’s too much. the tension between atsumu and you is far too much than your fragile heart can take, and in the moment, you vacillate, quickly taking a step back to free yourself from his grasp.

you clear your throat, breathing in a haste, clarifying oneself, “i have no intentions of doing what you’re thinking of.”

“and exactly how do you know what it is that i’m thinking of, cutie?” he smirks, cupping your chin to level your eyes with his so as to hold your gaze, “you don’t read minds, or do you?”

“because then you’d know i’m thinking no pure thoughts.” he sneers, pecking the corner of your lip, then your neck.

you tremble as you feel his heavy breath against your neck, a wise thought dashing to your mind, wondering if it’s still a good idea to invite him in. your hand pushes him away, and you separate yourself from him before it becomes detrimental for you.

you fix your eyes to the floor, relenting to spare him a look, as you’re still too nervous to allow yourself to hold his gaze. you mutter, grimacing, “i didn’t know if i knew what you wanted back then, but i do now.”

“good.” atsumu walks over to you, cupping your chin once again, coercing you to look him in the eye, ridiculing you, “and you still think it’s a good idea to invite me over?”

“i don’t want my gift to go to waste.” you hiss, grabbing his hand in order to force him to release your chin, but his grip is too strong for you to negotiate.

annoyed, you drop the effort, menacingly fixing your gaze elsewhere so that you don’t have to meet his. it would be too much for you if you stare into his eyes any longer. you’re already faltering as it is, you don’t know what consequences this will lead to. you’re sure none of them will be holy. next thing you know, you might kiss miya atsumu like there’s no tomorrow, allowing him to take you whole.

he lets go of you, asking as he looks in the direction of the entrance to the building, “where to, cutie?” he spanks you, jolting you in the direction of the entrance.

you jibe at him, “don’t get too freaky, miya.”

“you aren’t getting anything out of me.” you warn, and atsumu scoffs. you’re glaring daggers at him.

you roll your eyes, “be respectful, will you?”

“alright, lead me, my liege.” he requests, bowing down to you.

you moue at his terrible theatrics, stepping into the building, looking around for amane’s presence on the ground floor.

you confirm amane’s absence and take his hand, jolting towards the stairs to climb to your floor. you’re careful with every floor you ascend, avoiding amane like a pro. once you’re on the third floor, having successfully avoided her, you peep around to discover a suitable spot for him to hide until you can scan around to make sure the coast leading to your room is safe and sound.

“there.” you point at one of the pillers, gesturing him to take a spot behind it, “hide.”

“don’t come out until i wave my hand.” you state sternly, then inform him, “once i reach my door and wave my hand, you’re to run at your fastest speed.”

you question, making sure he’s understood every instruction that has been pushed his way, “clear?”

he nods, then raises his thumb at you, a cheeky smile painting his face. a confirmation that your instructions were clear enough, and he’s to make no mistakes until your mission is successful and done for.

you carefully tread, neck craning around to look for amane’s presence, as you actively trail in the direction of your bedroom. once you’re at your door, you’re quick to unlock, enter and wave to atsumu.

catching your gesture from where he is hiding, he rushes in your direction in response, and before amane makes it down the stairs to your floor, you quickly pull him inside your room, locking the door shut.

you breathe heavily, sighing in contentment that the two of you didn’t get caught pulling this off. you look up at atsumu who’s already looking your way, a hearty laugh ready to burst through. you both end up laughing in unison, taking in the moment, digesting whatever just happened.

then, you pause together. for no particular reason. there’s a few moments of unexplained silence. you aren’t sure what brought this on, but neither atsumu, nor you dare to speak a word. but you find him wavering his stare between your lips and your chest. that doesn’t make you uncomfortable per se, but your hand instinctively moves to cover your chest.

you’re pressed against the door, and atsumu moves a step closer to you, close enough that you can hear his heart beating faster than usual because of the short cardio session your little stunt put him through. but that’s all he does.

he doesn’t make any further efforts. you aren’t sure if you were expecting him to, and if you wanted him to. maybe it’s the way you shielded yourself that made him stop in his tracks. maybe if your hand wasn’t covering your chest, he’d have done what he intended to.

you place your hand on his chest, requesting, “please, move.”

“i need to go in.” you tell him, hinting, “the present won’t bring itself out.”

he doesn’t budge. you apply some force to move his body to the side, and enter your room. once you’re inside, you invite him in as well, “come on, take off your shoes and get inside.”

“you know, i have a gift for you.” you stretch your lips into a smile, highlighting your dimples. his eyes are instantly caught by the particular sight, prying him to stare in the direction of your lips.

“you’ve only mentioned it a few times now.” atsumu shakes his head as he sighs.

he gets rid of his footwear and walks into your dorm room, coming to stand right in front of you.

you walk up to him, stand on your tip toes to quickly peck his lips, and praise him, “good boy.”

you turn around and dally your way towards the mini refrigerator to acquire the cake you prepared for him last night. once you’ve taken it out, you turn around, holding it out to him.

“tada.” you make a sing song voice.

you approach him, while singing a birthday song, pushing the cake in his direction, hoping he’d accept your offering. you look at the blueberries and lemons decorating the cake, pointing, “it’s cute, isn’t it?” no response.

you pout, expressing disappointment, “why won’t you take my gift.”

“i spent so much time preparing it for you.” you whine, cheeks puffed out.

atsumu sighs, unsure of what he is thinking of. the more he looks at you, the more it seems he wants this night to lead the two of you to someplace he’s sure neither of you were expecting it to lead to. to think this way when he’s already made it so obvious to you is rather stupid.

he isn’t sure if he should be thinking these thoughts at all. they shouldn’t be whirring around his head to begin with. after all, this is only supposed to be a one time thing, and he was specifically warned by bokuto san not to lead you on.

he’s led you on enough as it is. he really shouldn’t take this any further. it’s bound to make things worse for you as well as for him. he knows this well, he can put two and two together to decipher the pros and cons of his unideal thoughts. his head and his heart cannot reach reach a comprise.

in the battle between the two, the head loses, and atsumu let’s go of the remains of his rationality. he takes the the cake out of your grasp and puts it on your desk, returning to stand face to face with you. you’re left swarmed by confusion.

but before you can interrogate him, he puts a lip to your finger, inching his body closer to you. once he’s close enough, he pulls you further in by the waist, until your chest is pressed firmly against his. you don’t retaliate. you just let him take control.

“the cake can wait.” he smirks, speaking in a breathy voice, wrapping an arm around your waist and resting the other against the nape of your neck.

he tells you, his lips only an inch apart from your own, “right now, this is what i want to do, cutie.”

your cheeks are burning, your body is trembling, your mind is fogged, and your palms are sweaty as they wrap around his shoulders for the balance. he can feel your body shaking against his. you’re nervous, he knows. he’s making you nervous, he knows. he’s at an advantage, and he likes it.

“you alright?” atsumu loosens his hold on you, asking out of concern when he notices the state of your body. you hum in response to him, granting him a green light to proceed.

just to make sure, he inquires yet again, “are you sure you’re okay with this?” you hum once again, confirming your agreement regarding the matter.

“great.” the corner of his lip raises as he voices, fain.

atsumu pulls you closer to him once again, clashing his lips against yours. his tongue entwines with your own, exploring around your mouth. you can taste the strawberry from his froyo swishing around your mouth as his tongue swarms around. you like whatever it is that you’re feeling. you grab his blonde hair and press his face against your own, urging him to continue further.

soon enough, breathless and quite uncomfortable, you’re quick to interfere, and you step back. he isn’t sure what warranted your reaction, but he’s willing to be patient.

he rubs your back, asking worrisomely, as he leaves a trail of kisses in the region of your neck, “did i do something wrong?”

“it’s me. i’ve never done this before.” you admit, moaning as you feel his hot breath condensing all over your neck, enticing a reaction from your end.

you mumble, embarrassingly, gripping his hair to move his face off your body, “sorry, i’m a spoilsport.”

“that’s all?” atsumu laughs, twirling his finger around a strand of your hair, playing with it.

he stoops lower and uses his teeth to pull your dress off your breast, placing a quick kiss on your cleavage through your brasier, reassuring, “don’t worry, cutie.”

“i got you, i’ll be gentle.” he looks up at you, winking, as he raises himself back up, proceeding to press his lips against your own once again.

atsumu’s frisky hands rummage around your back to discover the zip to your dress. he unzips your garment while his lips are still glued to yours. he pulls himself apart from you for a moment, swinging your body around as he presses you against a wall, the impact making your paints fall to the ground, painting the floor around you in a myriad of shades.

his hands mischievously, and quite easily undress you, completely revealing your brasier and underwear, two different colours. not a set. you really didn’t think it through before making your pick, and you really weren’t expecting to be fucked by atsumu miya on your first date.

your cheeks glow red in embarrassment, but frankly, atsumu doesn’t care if it’s a pair or not, he just wants to get those pieces of fabric off you and eat you out. he finds himself releasing his belt and loosening his pants while you stand there, hands covering your brasier and your underwear like it matters at this point.

he inches closer, finding himself pushing his lips against yours for the third time today, finding himself rock hard down there, ready to go. his arms envelope your body as he lifts you up. you cross your legs around his waist, putting your arms around his neck.

atsumu throws you onto the bed, hovering over you, with his large, throbbing cock erect underneath his loosened clothing. you’re desperate and you want him to put it inside of you this instant. he reaches out to get rid of your underwear. you can’t help it but let out a loud moan when you feel his hands prancing around your private parts in an attempt to rid you of your undergarment. you’re sure you were loud enough for your neighbours to hear, and they’ll know you’ve been a naughty girl tonight, but you don’t seem to care. you just want his cock inside of you, is all.

you’re hasty enough pull off his pants and his undergarment, revealing his large, veiny, aching cock ready to be inserted into your vagina. you throw the piece of cloth to the ground, spreading your legs wide apart for him, smirking.

“you really want me, don’t ya, cutie?” atsumu teases you, cupping your chin to catch a hold of your wavering gaze.

“too bad i don’t have protection on me.” he purses his lips, shrugging as he lays on top of you, pinning his chin against your cleavage.

his large hands cup your boobs, stimulating the nerve endings around your nipples, irking you to let out a vague cry.

your voice cracks, as you plead to him, “it’s okay, i need you inside of me.”

“atsumu.”

he commands, taking your chin into his hands, shooting a coy smile at you, “look at me, cutie.”

“hold my gaze.” he orders, assuring, “and you’ll get exactly what you want, cutie.” you nod, following his order, forcing yourself to look right into his eyes.

you’re already sweaty and he hasn’t even started yet. you don’t know what to expect from the process, but your instant reflex is the shut your eyes when you feel his cock sliding against your walls, inside of you. he’s too big for and it’s too painful. when he breaks through your hymen, you feel sharp, lancinating pain, warranting you to let out a loud moan as you bleed a little, “a-ah.”

“stop.” you speak up, huffing for air.

atsumu withdraws his cock from inside of you, caressing your cheek, inquiring, worried, “are you okay?”

“it hurts.” you cry, still in the midst of catching your breath.

you permit him, “try again.”

accepting your request, he inserts himself into your vagina once again. as you feel his large dick sliding against your walls, you scrunch your face in pain, whimpering, “o-ouch.”

“do you want me to stop?” he asks.

you refute, shaking your head, wanting him to continue pleasuring you. you scratch your nails against the bedding when you feel him thrust his cock inside you again, and again and again, making you groan and wail in pain because his size is just too big for you to take. as you feel his cock glide in and out of your pussy rhythmically, your moans get louder and louder, and the pleasure of having him inside of you intensifies tenfold. you find yourself gasping for air.

you feel yourself about to cum. atsumu drags his dick out of your vagina. his lips move away from your neck to your ear. he nibs your ear, while he inserts his fingers inside your pussy, letting your cum drips over his fingers, tainting them slimy white.

“you’re leaking, cutie.” atsumu states, chuckling, as he inserts his dick inside your cunt again, licking your ear, prying you to let out a scream when you feel the friction of his girth against you as he slides in and out.

smiling proud of himself, he kisses your neck, relieving you momentarily when he removes his cock out of your pussy, but only after he cums inside you. his fluid drips down your thighs, mixing with your own. he finds himself pressing his head between your thighs, tongue reaching to lick your walls to cleanse them of the filth of your act. as you feel his tongue brush around your lips, you can’t help but ask him for more.

“n-need more.” you stammer, breathless, overwhelmed with guilty pleasure as you grab his neck to make him face yourself, smiling tiredly at him, “tsumu, gimme more.”

atsumu lays right beside you, rubbing your cheeks as he teases you, sliding his hand down slowly and steadily, with fingers that tread over flesh, from your cheeks to your neck down to your stomach, leaving behind a ticklish sensation on your skin.

he places his hand over your mons, whispering as he bites the cartilage of your ear, “want more, cutie?”

you nod, signaling him to continue.

atsumu inserts his fingers into your vagina, curling them up and down, rubbing the area between your inner and outer labia, slowly stimulating your clitoris. you feel a pleasurable sensation wash all over your body. the motion of his fingers demands you to moan. he’s so good as he rubs your inside, you feel yourself cum all over his fingers.

satisfied with your response, and proud of himself, he inserts his fingers deeper, curling them in a come-hither motion, coercing you to whimper quite loudly. you’re sure were loud enough for your neighbours to hear you. once again. but you simply do not care. you’re too busy bathing his fingers with your cum.

tonight is going to be a long night, you think to yourself, closing your eyes shut, moaning over and over again as atsumu’s fingers twist and curl inside of you. he finds himself entertained, hearing you mewl and watching your squirm as he pleasures you. you cum over and over again, every time you’re stimulated, as his fingers move methodically within your walls, drenched in your fluid that you can’t seem to stop the flow of.

atsumu retrieves his fingers, holding onto your waist as he raises himself to hover over you. he brings his lips closer to you body, designing a trail of feathery kisses from your neck all the way down to your desperate pussy. he presses his face against your folds, inserting his tongue, licking you on the inside. when his tongue brushes past your clitoris, you whimper, cumming all over his face.

he laps it like a street dog, asking for more, “give me some more, cutie.”

you’re heaving for breath as atsumu explores your throbbing pussy with his tongue alone, hitting the spot every chance he gets, obligating you to wail over and over again. you’re profusely cumming, with his mouth covered in your fluids. he loves it, you love it. he’s too good.

“we’re about to have fun tonight.” he sneers, raising his head to look at the state of you.

atsumu shuts your legs close, giving you a break. he puts his body on to you, feeling your chest rise and fall evidently while you’re breathless. he snakes himself upwards. he kisses you on the lips, allowing you to get a quick taste of yourself.

“i- i think i want a r-round two.” you stutter, pushing him off you. your hand slides down to grab a hold of his penis. you start to fondle with his tip, doe eyed as you look at him with pursed lips and an expecting expression, “you’ll be gentle, just like the last time, won’t you?”

his eyes widen when he feels your soft hands playing around with his cock, moving upwards and downwards, stroking it. he likes the feeling of your soft skin feeling his penis, your fingers prancing around like you own his cock, and what was drooping becomes rock hard once again, aching to be slid inside of your pussy that’s clearly asking for more.

atsumu climbs on top of you, lacing his sticky fingers with your own, pinning your hand against the bed, his other hand rubbing the skin of your cheek as he prepares to enter your cunt. you grab the nape of his neck, dragging his face closer to yours.

he feels your heavy, needy breath dissipate against his cheeks as he bites your nose. with his lips brushing against yours, as he presses his dick into your cunt, he mutters, “want this, don’t you?”

you feel him cum inside of you, filling you up. as a stream of his semen trickles down your inner thigh, you shoot him a wide grin, huffing, “yes, w-want this.”

“s-so good, tsumu.” you groan, feeling his cock rub against your lips, inciting you to squirt all over his cock.

atsumu is so proud of himself for pleasuring you so good on your first time. he presses his dick deeper inside of you. you’re a wailing, crying mess as his large dick inserts itself further inside you, making you ache. but the feeling of his cock being thrust inside of you is too good to make him stop.

he chuckles at your sweaty face painted crimson, with a weary but satisfactory smile lining your pink lips, smirking at you as he kisses your lips, then your neck, “alright, cutie, it’s time we have more fun throughout the night.”

౨ৎ yn and atsumu got along too well for his own liking, and he actually ended up having a great time with yn.

౨ৎ yn lost her v card to atsumu, meaning this is the first time she even hooked up with someone.

౨ৎ the security guards saw yn sneaking atsumu into the dormitory, but they just assumed it’s tobio.

౨ৎ tobio definitely cried on his way to practice.

౨ৎ you’re going to hate me for the next few chapters.

previous : d day

masterlist | next : rebound sex

🐰 i want you to be real scared for the upcoming chapters, that’s all.

taglist— @wolffmaiden @kafkassexchoe @luna-mothii @bomjug @le000xxgrd @dazqa @ineednanami @iluvaquaphor @debussy42 @choizzn @bunninio @empress-pug-pug @karasunoya @sereniteav @yuminako @reooreo @loveelylacey @nbcvs

113 notes · View notes

dryonsenpai · 3 months

Note

If u do headcanons can I please ask for headcanons for the kings + Zagan and Belial (or only the kings if is easier) going to the pool with the mc?

If you don't take headcanons I understand. Thank you. <3

First time someone's ever asked me for headcannons hahaha. Thank you, I'll do my best 😊

Headcannons for the kings, Zagan and Belial on the pool with MC (you)

Warning: NSFW, like, almost too NSFW for a headcannon/gender neutral MC

Satan

Pools in Gehenna aren't a big thing due to the country's poverty, but that doesn't mean that you won't have a good time with Satan

You know how pale this guy is? You're gonna enjoy applying sunscreen on him, feeling even the slightest details on his muscled body

He's gonna do the same thing to you later on, even though he doesn't really need the excuse of the sunscreen to touch you

Inside the water, his white wet hair shines under the sun, you just can't help but touch it and caress it as if it was a treasure

Then Satan would hug you tight and start touching you on an even more lewd way

Now is the time when you can leave scars and marks all over Satan's body, so he follows your orders and let you do whatever you want to him

There's only one issue, water doesn't let him spank you properly. Problem solved! He's strong enough to lift you up and keep spanking you

Mammon

Pools in Tartaros are just like palaces, full of gold and oriental decorations. If you sunburn easily, Mammon would demand to build a special indoor pool just for you

No matter if you're indoors or outdoors, Mammon wants to protect his master at all costs. That's why he would demand servants (even the nobles if you want to) to apply sunscreen to you

If you want the very own king to do it, he'll gladly oblige. He'll be very careful to not hurt you with his strong, beautiful and veiny hands

Then, he would just grab you with one arm without difficulty to the pool and get you inside

He won't swim, he would just cuddle with you while touching your butt. But if you do want to swim for a bit, he would be happily looking at you (and your butt) waiting for your return to his arms

Even if he's a golden (no pun intended) retriever, he still wants to do... Things to you, the swimsuit perfectly captures your curves and body shape (again, butt)

And so does his. Sir, where are you going with that? That should be illegal. Still you want to touch it, so both of you succumb to your desires

Mammon's huge cock normally would have a hard time (again no pun intended) fitting inside you, but water made the job much easier

Drying up time! You're tired after the passionate time on the pool, he wouldn't let you move an inch so that you can rest, he is the one drying you up and then probably let you to sleep

Leviathan

"Pool? Are you a child or what?... Ok, but ONLY I will be with you". No matter if you try to say that you want to be alone, he just won't let you, he wants to be with you but won't say it

The only pool you're going to on his watch is a pool inside the Hades palace. Servants are there watching and doing maintenance, Levi just kicks them out cuz only him can see you in a swimsuit

Have you seen Diabolik lovers? The scene where Ayato throws Yui on the pool?... Yup, that's Levi

Water is perfect for his breath control fetish. You don't even have time to reach out to the surface before he gets your head back under the water, seeing you grasp for air turns him on

He wasn't thinking on getting into the water on the first place, but that sight of you? He doesn't have a swimsuit so he just got naked and got in with you

Now Levi makes you give him a blowjob under the water. The water is so crystal clear that he can perfectly see you. Then you would proceed to have sex until both of you are tired

Beelzebub

He would take you to a club at night time. You can either get in with swimsuit or naked. Most likely naked, Beelzebub would just tear the swimsuit out of you so that he enjoys aaall your views

The water of the pool cannot get rid of your body odor. Beel then starts to smell you, your neck, your armpits... And his favourite, your private parts

He can't do what he wants to do under water, so he sits you on the border of the pool and gets your legs open. Surprise! You're not exactly sitting on the floor, you're sitting on the lap of a copy of Beel

Beelzebub 1 burries his face on your private parts, then starts licking it. Beel 2 takes care of your nipples by pinching and pulling at them

People in the club are watching, their king having sex with the new fella? Turns all of them on, if you let Beel know that makes you uncomfortable then he would take you to a private pool, which is better cuz now you're only his

This guy is literally a sex machine, you have sex on almost every position in the Kamasutra and outside of it

When he dries you up, he's still touching you on your "pleasure areas". What? You thought he'd be done? He's Beelzebub!

Unluckily, the water finally removed your natural odor from you, but now there's an almost even better smell... Sex smell

How can you stop Beelzebub? Good luck

Lucifer

Before going, he's going to give you a safety lecture. He doesn't know your name but he does care about you

He won't take you to a pool. Instead, he would take you to a river/lake in Paradise lost full of beautiful flowers and animals, comparable to the very same Eden. Don't worry, nobody really goes there

If there happens to be any dangerous animals in there, he would command them to go somewhere else until you leave the place

He doesn't like that either of you wear swimsuits. After all, he wants to be with you just as God brought both of you to the world

Bro burns fast af so you offer to apply sunscreen on him. At first he declines, but then he accepts on one condition: don't touch his scar or wings

Congratulations! Your touch turned him on, but he can hide it for now... FOR NOW

Lucifer's a doctor, so he would be anatomically studying your perfect body while applying you sunscreen. He can still hide that he's hot

Water time! When you submerged your head and then came out, he can't control himself anymore. Those water drops on your face look like the tears he loves

If you happen to have long black hair & light color eyes, you'll inevitably remind him of Michael. Does that stop him? Oh Hell no!

Remember his bite? You ain't escaping that, it hurt for a little but then it felt like incredible pleasure that let down real tears. Water would carry your blood away, which also happens to turn Lucifer on

Let's remember that the slightest penetration of an angel causes an orgasm, imagine what would happen to you being on Lucifer's hands

Zagan

The thought of both of you being together makes Zagan happy, but he's really shy to ask you out. So he tells you to go together to the pool because it's summer and it's really hot, you obviously accept

When he sees you in a swimsuit he can't help but blush, you're the most beautiful creature he's ever seen

You suggest playing volley, you had to explain to him what that is cuz they don't call it that way in Hell

You soon find out that he's an excellent player, but he's letting you win cuz he wants you to be happy

After a while, you're both sweaty. You notice he's blushing, but it's not because of the heat, remember he has kinesophilia

Still you decide to go to the pool to cool down. When you swim, it triggers back his kinesophilia

Zagan wants it, but he's not going to ask you. You notice and tell him that you want it too

When you're done & it's time to get out, he'll carry you on his arms because he can't let you slip and get hurt

Belial

Pool day? Okay! But Jjyuu stays at home playing videogames and watching anime, a habit he took from Belial

You suggest playing music on your phone, but he declines because he wants to listen to you singing, if you can't sing or you're too shy then humming is okay too

He lays down on your lap & listens to your beautiful voice, you know he's staring at you with shiny eyes even if you can't see them

"I love your voice", he writes with his finger on your tummy. You may sound like a donkey with diarrhea, he's still gonna love your voice and truly mean it

When you get in the water & keep singing, you remind him of a mermaid

Suddenly, those words on your tummy get marked red (like in his h-scene), it turns you on and you just can't control your heat. Don't worry, he can't control it either

When you're done, he's gonna ask you to sing for him again

#what in hell is bad #whb #地獄のどこが悪い #what in “hell” is bad #whb lucifer #地獄のどこが悪いルシファー #what in “hell” is bad?#地獄のどこが悪いマモン #whb mammon #whb satan #whb leviathan #whb beelzebub #whb belial #whb zagan #地獄のどこが悪いレヴィアタン #地獄のどこが悪いサタン #地獄のどこが悪いベルゼブブ #地獄のどこが悪いベリアル #地獄のどこが悪いザガン

130 notes · View notes