A Human Experience | H.P. Lovecraft x Reader

Request:“Heyoo :”) Can you do a fluff BSD Lovecraft x female reader where the reader is like,, trying so hard to show some affection to Lovecraft but always ended up being a blushing mess?? And he’s trying so hard to figure it out what I’m trying to say or do or something (idk if this makes sense lmao) Basically wholesome stuff going on except the reader is always flustered lmfao, ;w; or probably like if he’s tryna give the reader a present or something and all that blushing thing happened AJASJSHSJ IDK IF THIS REALLY MAKES SENSE LMAO“

Pairing: H.P. Lovecraft x Reader

Summary:Somehow you managed to rope yourself up with what you’ve decided to call a God. Lovecraft has been with you for long while and he continues to fascinate you everyday. Slowly but surely, you’ve become rather affectionate of him as you help him slowly become more and more human.

His own emotions will leave you breathless.

Warnings:None,FLUFF

A/N: This one was actually quite cute to write! I hope you enjoy it and I’ve done the request some justice. :)

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Lovecraft has a very peculiar gaze.

He is neither bored nor entertained. He observes quietly but remains oblivious. One cannot tell if he is listening or not. Perhaps he simply doesn’t care.

However, if you watch him long enough, you’ll know him a little better. His shifts in expression are small and rare. He does in fact, feel amusement from your jokes and his soft unyielding gaze will often travel beside you.

Lovecraft does not leave your side often but when he is beside you, one may notice that his peculiar gaze will reveal a little more than before. The shine in his eyes is unmistakable. And if someone is very lucky, they may even spot the rare smile he reveals.

You walk beside Lovecraft even now as he watches the path ahead of the both of you. He towers above everyone as they move aside for him. He reaches out a hand and gently grasps your elbow, tugging you closer towards him allowing the sea of people to give you more leeway to walk without bumping into every second person. You blush slightly at the feel of his long fingers against your skin. Cool and comforting as always. Today, your godly companion has asked you to take him somewhere that you like. You believe he said something about trying to find a human experience.

You cough gently to get his attention and his eyes snap towards you.

“You certainly attract a lot of attention. Perhaps it’s because you’re beautiful”

He cocks his head towards you and leans down even more, his long hair cascades over his shoulder and gently brushes against your cheeks. He moves even closer. He didn’t hear you.

You blush and quickly stutter out, “The store is only a road away. We make a left here.”

He nods once but sends you a confused look and leads you around the corner where the crowd thins out considerably. He releases his grip on your arm. You suddenly feel very exposed.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t want you getting lost.”

Your face heats up as you clear your throat awkwardly. You send a silent prayer that he doesn’t notice how much you’ve been blushing today. may the Gods have mercy. You wave your hand in the direction of the book store up ahead. A sign sits above the door. Novel Bound is deeply etched into the wood, the timber appears to be splintering in some places but the sign still stands strong. It’s one of the oldest book stores you know and by far your favourite.

Lovecraft’s eyes slide over the sign before he steps into the store. You follow suit and take a deep breath. The smell of strong coffee and old books washes over you. The door closes behind you and the rest of the world drowns out. The store has a quiet that would almost be deafening if it weren’t for the occasional light footsteps and the classical music that breathes into the air. The most magical part of the store would be it’s towering bookcases that cover floor to ceiling. Pillars of dark oak teeming with knowledge.

Lovecraft walks through the store taking in all the details. He reaches out a hand and runs it along the wood. He caresses the grooves. His eyes pass over a selection of American fiction novels, halting for a second on a novel titled The Shadow of time, before he walks away moving from bookshelf to bookshelf. He moves like a ghost, a whisper between the shelves.

You catch his eye as he passes you. Despite his usually expressionless gaze, you can read the curiosity in his eyes. His usually enigmatic gaze reveals his excitement to you. You didn’t think an old bookstore would excite him so much. But perhaps, even he would not be immune to the feeling the timeless bookstore bestows upon its customers.

You leave Lovecraft to his own devices and begin to search the store for a book that catches your attention.

______________

Crime and Punishment sits firmly in your grasp as you search for Lovecraft. When you find him, you find yourself simply unable to breathe.

Sunlight cascades through an open window. Golden hues fall across his pale complexion as he sits on a chair, flipping through a novel. The light accentuates the sharp plains of his face and adds a flush of colour to his lips. His hair falls like a river of ink around his face. His gaze studies the book carefully, a slight furrow between his brows. The world simply doesn’t breathe as he cocks his head thoughtfully.

You hold your breath. Even if you didn’t already know, it would be at this point where you would believe he is a God.

You hesitate, not wanting to shatter his moment of peace but also not willing to disturb the sight of him. Like a ripple in a pond, you would hate to break the moment of absolute stillness. You wish you could capture this exact moment on a painting for a picture could never contain such beauty. But perhaps a painting could aptly express how endearing the sight is. Unfortunately, he glances up and watches you coolly. You move towards him and on impulse, you reach out a hand and brush it across his hair. You retract your hand quickly. You instantly redden. How bold.

“You’re very… Um.. is that the book you would like?”, you choke out. Handsome, you wanted to say handsome but his eyes swallowed you too quickly and too deeply. You’re surprised you were even able to get so much out.

He rises to his feet and nods but the crease between his eyes persists. You lead him to the till and pay for both books. Leaving the store is never pleasant but Lovecraft walks beside you with a sure stride and you begin to head home. But, the sun is beginning to droop in the sky, and you change course suddenly and speed up a little. The store is close to the ocean and you drag Lovecraft behind you, steps never faltering, as you bring him to a sight you know will simply take his breath away.

The sun drops to the horizon line, casting vivid colours across the sky. Hues of pink and deep oranges leap across the sky. Lovecraft rests beside you and watches the sun disappearing intently. He is silent. His gaze is sharp. He drinks in every little detail, every soft change of light.

“Pretty”, you say, and he nods. But your eyes are no longer watching the sky nor the ocean.

He turns to look at you with his deep grey eyes. A gaze that buries into you. It erupts butterflies in your stomach and burns down every coherent thought you can possibly attempt to muster.

“Very Pretty”

He quirk an eyebrow at you, possibly the most human expression you’ve ever seen him make. You flush.

“Wait here”, he says before turning and disappearing into the crowd. How he managed to simply disappear while being so tall surprises you. He must be moving very quickly

He reappears a second later and places a bottle of water into your hands. Water?

You shoot him a puzzled look but before any words can come out he places the palm of his hand flat onto your forehead. He places his other hand on his own and everything clicks. He’s checking your temperature.

“Are you feeling okay? You seem a little warm.”

“I-I’m fine. Why would you think I’m ill?”

“You’ve been strange. You’ve been coughing a lot today”, he points at your face. “And you’ve been very red the whole day.”

The gods betrayed you.

For a second you genuinely don’t know if he’s mocking you but you recall his words from this morning and realize that he’s dead serious.

“I’m not sick.”

Lovecraft shakes his head, “Is your throat sore? The book says that if your throat is sore you could have the flu.”

“What book?” you ask.

He shakes his head and opens the water and pushes it into your hands again. “I found a book earlier. You’re still red, drink some more water. Humans need a lot of water.”

He places a hand on your cheek and for a moment, he looks genuinely worried. The furrow between his brows deepens even more as he takes in your current state. “You’re warmer.”

Of course I’m warmer, you keep getting closer and closer. You’re not sure how to explain the difference between the flu and having a crush, to a God. But he leans over you in a way that blocks everyone off and your head keeps spinning. Perhaps, having a flu and having a crush feel the same. You take a sip of your water. You turn towards him. He’s leaning over you so closely that his hair creates a curtain that blocks out the world.

“You’re very close”, you whisper. He makes a move to step away but you grab onto his jacket and hold him to you. Perhaps you are feeling too bold. But he says nothing and wraps his arms around you.

“Are you sure you are okay?” He asks. You fall into him, allowing his earthy scent to swallow you whole. Perhaps, it’s the lapping of ocean waves, or the buzz of the emerging nightlife or even just his presence alone but you feel quite at peace. Drowsy even.

“I don’t know why this upsets me so much.”

You smile, “perhaps you are beginning to care about a human.”

Of Course, shouldn’t Gods care about humans.

Lovecraft has a way of surprising you every step of the way. Ever since you first ran into him.

Even now, as he leans down and brushes his lips across your forehead. He surprises you. You still beneath him. His hand reaches for your chin and his long slender fingers angle your face towards his.

His gaze is sharp and intense but soft all the same. You feel like glass beneath his touch and for the first time. You can see a million conflicting emotions in his gaze.

He leans down once again but his destination has changed as soft lips brush against your own.

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tags:@kubominero

Because it’s You (Part 1) | H.P. Lovecraft x Reader

Request:“BSD Lovecraft x female reader. What if the reader isn’t afraid of him and asks to see his true form and she thinks his true form looks cool? Soulmate au. Fluff to smut. Maybe he could use his ability in the smut part if that’s ok?”

Pairing: H.P. Lovecraft x Fem!Reader

Summary:(Soulmate AU), From birth you’re soulmate has always been a mystery even his mark was hard to decipher but as he stands before you, you realize that there is far more to the man they call Lovecraft.

Warnings:NSFW, Fluff to Smut. The smut is right at the end so you are able to read until the warning. Dom!Lovecraft x Brat!Reader
18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3363

A/N: By Far my longest fic yet and one of the more interesting ones to write. Lovecraft strikes me as a character that cares deeply but says very little when speaking with his s/o. As Always, Enjoy :)

“Soulmate Au, where you have a mark on your wrist that represents your soulmate that becomes colour when you meet them”

From birth you’ve always had a rather strange mark. Your parents figured that perhaps when you were older the mark would look a bit different but instead it remained in the strange shape. The mark appears to be sludge? A flower? It’s a rather messy pile of something, topped with bat wings? You’ve sat and tried to decipher it for years up until today, you’re still unsure as to what it could represent.

You even took up art classes and tried to redraw the mark with different shapes and colours. At the end of the day, you’re not sure what it means. You only hope that it’s not a pile of drugs topped with wads of cash or something. You wouldn’t want your soulmate to be some sort of drug dealer. In any case, those art classes paid off and you’re currently in charge of your own studio.

You walk down the street and breathe in the damp Yokohama air. The air is musty but it’s to be expected as your current route for the day leads you past the port. The port is loud and chatty, people are gossiping everywhere about Yokohama’s most recent events. You pick up keywords here and there such as: “Port Mafia”, “Guild”, “detectives” and so on and so forth.

You spot a nearby Hawker selling newspapers and you decide to ask him about the commotion. The man holds out a newspaper with an incredulous look. “You don’t know? It’s about the whale that dropped out of the sky the other day. Some organization from overseas was behind it. They’re also linking it to a car crash in the mountains. Bah! But I know nothing. You’ll have to buy a paper to know more.”

You give him your own incredulous look before purchasing a paper. You skim it as you walk and learn about the hero Agency. As you flip over the page your eye catches onto the photo. A tall figure shrouded in black is standing next to a short ‘farm boy’. The photo is somewhat grainy but clear enough to see that the man has sharp features. He looks quite handsome.

You shake your head. No. He’s a criminal. You skim through the rest of the article but the photo is just so eye-catching. You run a finger over the image. He has long hair that blends into his coat. It’s hard to tell just how long his hair is. A mysterious aura surrounds such a person, perhaps if you are lucky, you could one day sketch the planes of his face.

Right, because you’re definitely going to chase down the mystery man just to draw him. You roughly bundle up the newspaper and shove it into your bag. You look up and realise that along your walk you’ve obviously gotten a bit lost and have wandered into a deserted part of the harbour. You spin around quickly, intending to retrace your steps when you slam into a wall and topple over.

A wall? But you’ve just come this way. You raise your eyes and meet another pair of sharp purple ones. They are oddly striking. The figure stands in front of you, as tall and immovable as a statue. An odd sensation flushes over you and you suddenly feel as if you know this person. Of course, this is the striking man from the paper. His mysterious aura seems to have followed him off of the page and into reality.

He cocks his head at you, allowing long strands of hair to fall. His hair is as dark as ink and much longer than you had assumed.

“Sorry”, he mutters and extends his right hand towards. The invitation warms your heart. You swallow down the feeling, you’ve only met the man.

You latch on to his hand as he lifts you up gently. His fingers are very long and slender. He has the hands of an artist. They are also freezing cold. He looks down and pauses and while not letting go of your hand, he turns your intertwined hands so his wrist faces upwards. A beautiful Iris adorns his wrist. The colours are breathtaking in your eyes. The Iris is a truly a beautiful flower and his specific mark has captured the varying hues of purple and blue perfectly. It is your favourite flower and the flower that gave its name to your studio and a collection of paintings you’ve created.

You want to run your fingers over it but before you can do that, he flips his wrist over so that your mark now faces upwards. The odd mark has now been graced with an assortment of light greens. With shading the mark has become both clearer and yet all the more confusing. He eyes your mark and then his before he finally raises his eyes to meet your own. He scans your face before he lets go of your hand.

He leans down to pick up your bag before placing it into your arms. And without a word, he spins on his heel and begins to walk away.

What? Where the fuck does he think he’s going?

You sling your bag over your shoulder and follow after him.
“Uh Hey, wait!”, you shout after him. “Can we talk?”

He doesn’t spare you a glance as you begin to jog to match his speed. You jog beside him but he seems intent on marching forward with his long legs. You’re sure he would walk through a wall at this rate.

“Please wait, can we just talk for two minutes? I’m not sure what I did but maybe if you tell me, I can fix it.”

Nothing. Talking really isn’t your strong suit but you absolutely have to speak to this man. His hard features barely flinch. You’re beginning to feel flustered and tears are welling up at the back of your eyes.

“Oi, Lovecraft, ‘been looking for you everywhere!”, a shout echoes.

The man, Lovecraft, finally stops in his tracks and looks back. A shorter man in overalls is sauntering down the pathway with a cocky smile on his face. Lovecraft looks him over once before turning his attention towards you.

“You should leave-”, he suddenly stops.

His eyes widen as he sees you. Your face has reddened and a few tears have slipped past. His face makes you want to cry harder and you bite your lower lip in frustration. He sighs before turning towards the other man and stepping in front of you.

“Go away, John.”

John throws him a confused look. He begins to circle you both but Lovecraft proceeds to shield you from the other’s sight.

“Now”,says Lovecraft.

John throws up his hands in surrender and says, “Alright. Alright. I’m leaving but you stay safe pal.”

He then turns and leaves but not without a few glances your way but Lovecraft doesn’t move until he’s out of sight.

Lovecraft turns and looks at you and you feel dwarfed by his size. He sighs, “Fine, two minutes.”

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You weren’t sure what exactly you wanted to say nor are you sure how serious he is about the time limit. Not wanting to try and win over your soulmate near the harbour surrounded by the tangy smell of oil and fish, you offer to go elsewhere to talk. He agrees and he follows you in silence. You decide that the time spent on the way doesn’t count. You walk side by side and he attracts a few curious looks. The hawker who sold you the newspaper gawks at you as you walk past obviously noticing the resemblance to the picture. You speed up your pace and decide to loop back to your design studio.

You unlock the door and step inside while gesturing to him to follow but his eyes are glued to the sign above the door. More specifically the iris flower that was painted on. The Logo of your design studio.

You laugh awkwardly, “Uhh yeah, I like Iris flowers. I like most plants in general but I think the iris is the best. I made an art series dedicated to the flower and it became quite popular so when I opened the studio I decided to use it as my logo.”

“This is your studio?”

He steps in and scans the surroundings. The studio is messy and you feel embarrassed for not cleaning it up better. Your studio is situated in an old building with tall windows that allow light to filter through. It’s nothing more than a few rooms stuffed with equipment, tables and chairs but it’s your pride and joy. Nothing has pleased you more in the past year then being able to teach students how to paint.

“Yeah, it’s not much.”

“Can I see the paintings?”

You smile sheepishly, “Unfortunately, they’re not here at the moment. They’re at the Art gallery. I do have one piece though that I kept for myself.”

You walk out the room and he trailers after you as you step into your private studio. On the back wall is a canvas with a foreboding size. It looms over the room but the colours are bright and peaceful. It depicts a field of blue and purple Iris flowers, with the closest one being painted in excruciating detail. Lovecraft doesn’t move but simply studies his wrist instead as though comparing the two images.

“So I guess, that’s where the Mark comes from”, you look down at your own mark, a creature that seems indescribably horrifying, “may I ask what this means?”

Lovecraft narrows his eyes at your wrist, “A very good reason to stay away from me. I’m not human.”

You stare at him. His tone doesn’t sound teasing but surely it’s a joke? Have you misread the room?

“I should go”

“NO!” you lunge forward and grab onto the sleeve of his jacket. “I’m not scared or anything.”

Perhaps the situation is strange but you were willing to put in the effort. You lick your chapped lips, his eyes lock onto this particular movement.

“Can we please just try.”

He stares at you carefully before nodding his head.

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Three months go by and you see him almost everyday. Sometimes he only visits you briefly between classes, sometimes he spends the day in the studio quietly sitting in the corner. He does very little but he constantly keeps watch. Generally though he is sleeping in the corner with his feet propped up while you hum a tune. He almost never bothers you. You also discovered that he has quite the liking for chocolate and ice cream. He often brings you sweet treats as a gift but eats them himself. You’ve decided to keep a few tubs of ice cream at the studio now.

While you two become closer you also took some initiative to look into the Guild which led you down a path of learning about Gifted. Eventually you convinced him to start going out with you. He seems unfamiliar with Japanese food and frankly, Japan as a whole.You are determined to show him what life is like in Yokohama. Today, you’ve convinced him to follow you to the beach.

“So the Guild is disbanded?”

He looks up at you surprised before he responds, “I never really worked for the Guild, I worked for Francis. We had a deal.”

“What was the deal?”

“Doesn’t matter now. The contract has been fulfilled,” he says. Lovecraft has a very strange way of talking. He speaks as little as possible and formally so. Sometimes it feels as though he is speaking in code though.

“Does this contract have to do with you not being human?”, you bite your lip as you throw the question out. This isn’t a subject you’ve touched on again.

“Yes”

“If you’re not human then what are you?”

“I’m not sure what humans would call me”, he pauses before standing up. The breeze catches onto his hair causing it to flutter around him. He faces you with his back to the sea and watches with a smoldering gaze, “Would you like to see.”

You nod. You do not wish to use words fearing that the nervousness you feel would reveal itself. It’s not exactly that you’re scared of him. If anything, you are more scared that your reaction may scare him. He has never been quite so vulnerable.

Slowly, his figure changes. His arms take on a green hue and begin to elongate. His neck straightens up and his eyes sink into his head. While he may have been tall before, nothing could quite prepare you for the creature he’s become. A mass of tentacles of an indescribable horror.

And you simply sit and stare. He does not remain like this for long though. Almost as though he is frightened that you may be scared, his figure shifts back to his original form.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting. But his true matches the mark on your wrist exactly. You approach him but he seems wary. Perhaps, in the past his real form has frightened many people.

You stop and watch him instead. This is the same man who brings you chocolate ice cream every week and then eats it all. Will nap the entire day before waking up and going to dinner with you. Will sleep through an entire movie with his head in your lap while you slip your fingers through his hair. You don’t think you could ever be scared of him.

“Are you scared?”

You shake your head as you step in front of him. “I think you look cool.”

He gives you an incredulous look while holding up his arm which slips into his other form by the turn of his wrist. Your hand gravitates toward it and you run a finger over the length. It’s smooth.

“I really do”, you say and cup his cheeks into your hand. It’s a bit of a stretch up but his look of surprise is precious. “It’s amazing, because it’s you.”

______ (18+)

The Door slams open as Lovecraft drags you into your bedroom. He doesn’t bother to shut the door behind you as he lifts you up and drops you onto the bed. You land heavily and bounce a little. Lovecraft eyes you as he slips his tie and coat off. You feel like a rabbit caught in a trap.

He sheds his shirt off as well but before his hand reaches his belt, he stops.

“You do it.”

A man of little words but infinite power. You nod and slip your loose hair behind your ears. You crawl to the edge of the bed and slip your finger into one of his belt loops, tugging him forward. You lick your lips and decide to make a bold move. He watches you with curious eyes and a heated gaze as you tug him even closer. With one hand you swiftly unbutton his pants but lean forward and bite onto his zipper.

You glance upwards through your eyelashes as you slowly move downwards. The sound of the zipper feels impossibly loud in the silent room, Lovecraft feels impossibly still beneath you. With his black pants moved to the side you flatten your tongue against his clothed cock. Lovecraft moans in surprise and slips his fingers into your hair. He doesn’t tug, simply hovers and suddenly it occurs to you that perhaps this is new territory for him.

You slip his half hard cock out of his underwear and run your tongue over the shaft but he quickly pulls you away by your hair.

“You don’t have to do that.”

You lick your lips and send him a wink, before leaning forward again and slipping the head into your mouth and sucking.Your tongue swirls around his cockhead. He groans.

He twitches in your mouth but once again he pulls you back by your hair, leans down and kisses you roughly. His movements feel desperate as he devours you. He pushes you back onto the bed and begins to strip off your clothes.

His long fingers slide everything off and even snaps a few threads in your shirt. You’re left in nothing but your underwear.

One hand traces from your jawline, through the valley of your breasts and slips even lower to hook into your underwear before tearing it off with one swift tug.

“You are looking very pretty for me.”

“Who says it’s for you”, you shoot back.

He smirks. His deep purple eyes penetrate you and he pushes you onto your back. His arms cage you in as he hovers over you. You shrink back into the bed.

“Oh”, he says, his hair falling over his shoulder and brushing against your naked skin. You shiver at the touch but he dips his head down and grazes his teeth against your earlobe before whispering, “you don’t want to look pretty for me?”

“Perhaps I’m looking pretty for men.”

His eyes flash dangerously. “Oh, my sweet, let me show you why other boys cannot compare.”

Fuck, for someone whos diving into new territory, he certainly knows how to set you on fire.

He dives for your neck and licks a line from your collarbone to your jawline.

“Sweet.”

He nips at the skin of your neck before finally moving down to your breasts where he suckles each one into his mouth. His other hand slips between your thighs and he begins to rub your clit. He reaches further down and coats his hand in your slick. He chuckles before breathing against your ear, “You’re so wet.”

You gasp out as his finger slips into you, it’s so long and so cold that the sudden intrusion has you jerk your hips away. But he grabs your hips roughly with his other hand and pins you down onto the bed.

“Don’t tease me”, you whine.

He smiles, “I’m preparing you.”

He stretches you out nicely. All the while he alternates between giving you soft pecks and kisses and devouring your breasts. You keen and whine beneath him as he touches every part of you in the most exciting ways.

Suddenly he grasps his cock, dripping with precum, and gives it a few pumps while reaching into his back pocket for a condom packet. He brings it to his lips and rips open the packet with his teeth. His eyes do not leave yours as he slips the condom on. He lines himself up with your sloppy entrance. He doesn’t move further but instead leans over you more to cradle you into his arms. With a soft peck to your forehead he asks, “Are you ready?”

You kiss him flush on the lips in silent consent. He still doesn’t move so you pull away and whisper into his ear, “Fuck Me”

He chuckles before pushing his cock to your entrance. It’s big. It’s very big and you whine a little as the head pops in. He thrusts back and forth, rubbing you raw while he places little kisses on your collarbone. You mewl on the bed as your nails begin to dig into his back. It feels so good but he’s so big. You are so full.

Finally he bottoms out and groans. “Forgive me.”

He pushes back before slamming back into you. You cry out as he begins his brutal pace. Harsh slapping sounds fill the room as he groans into your ear over and over again. He bites down onto your shoulder as you both finish. He pulls out and throws the condom away. He’s barely drenched in sweat but his hair is plastered to his face. He brushes it away.

“Still thinking of other boys?” he muses with his deep husky voice.

“Like anyone can compare”, you say.

He hums in approval as he flips you on your stomach. You shoot him a confused look as he reaches for a pillow and slides it beneath your hips. Once again, his large build appears above you, another condom packet at his teeth.

“Lovecraft?”

“Spread”

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Image:https://www.zerochan.net/2616047

Tag:@ravenina14