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twogyuu · 1 year

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Head in the Clouds (Landing Among Stars) [epilogue]

Pairing: Wonwoo x fem!reader

Synposis: You’re busy. He’s busy. Doctors are busy. Pilots are busy. But somehow, he always found time for you - including pretending to be your boyfriend for your cousin’s wedding.

Genre: Fluff, crack

Warnings: profanity wbk

WC: ~1.3k

Permanent taglist: @sleeplessdawn @sadkidwarexpert @rockwidthyou @woozarts @wonuziex @bibinnieposts @nanamioo @joonsytip

A/N: 🧍‍♀️

read the original drabble here first!

Instinctively, you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for the press of his lips. In the back of your head, you found yourself wondering what they would feel like - what they would taste like. Was Wonwoo a rough kisser? Soft? Passionate? Fast? Sensual? Easy-going?

Also, this wasn't . . . Weird, right? This what happens in movies? After confessions - let alone with him being so close. It was only fair that you'd expect it.

However, you were met with his breathy, low chortle instead. Rather than your lips, you felt a chaste kiss on your cheek - your skin tingling and warm where he left it nonetheless. You felt special - Wonwoo wasn't the physically affectionate type. Even if it was seemingly small compared to what you were expecting, his gesture sparked a flame in your chest.

"If you think I'm gonna kiss you," Wonwoo started. You heard the scrape of his nails against the wall as his hands slid off. He relaxed, standing back a few steps. "I want to, but not unless you want to and the feelings mutual."

You peeled open your eyes, you right one first then your left, peering at him through your lashes. A soft breath fell between your lips - one you'd been holding in for a while now. It something in between relief and if you dared, disappointment.

"You don't have to tell me now," Wonwoo continued, he extended a hand to you, "But eventually, it'd be nice to know what you'd want."

You gingerly placed your fingers in the palm of his hands. He fold his own over yours, fitting together like two adjacent pieces of a puzzle. His hold was warm, spreading from the tips of your fingers and up your arms, spreading across your chest. His thumb brushed across your knuckles, the silver band on your pointer finger feeling cool under his touch. His eyes lingered on your empty ring finger before he looked up at you.

Wonwoo tilted his head back in the direction of your cousin's reception. "Right now, we have a fake relationship to pull off first."

Naturally, you found the corner of your lips curling up as you took his hand, letting him lead you back to the party. He didn't even kiss you (on the lips at least), but it felt like Wonwoo already stole the words off your tongue. You wanted to ask him questions, reassure him the same way he did you, tell him at least you'd think about it - but you couldn't.

When you arrived at the doors, the neon lights that had been flashing across the dance floor had been traded for a simple one with a purple glow. The music was much softer and the guests were much calmer. Couples with their arms wrapped around one another swayed to the soothing voice; a few young and brave individuals mustering up the courage to court the person they'd been eyeing from afar all night for a slow dance.

"Where have you two been?" you mother exclaimed, appearing in front of you.

Your lips parted to give some sort of haphazard excuse of going on a walk, but she was already shooing Wonwoo and you towards the dance floor.

"Go! Go!" she ushered, "These slow sweet songs are for young couples in love like you."

Your heels clattering against the hardwood, you threw a look over your shoulder. Your mom watched keenly, her eyes glowing - the lights lazily traveling the room reflecting the excitement twinkling in her eyes as she watched.

"Shall we?" Wonwoo asked, his hand lingering up your forearm.

You nodded, adjusting your position: A hand on his shoulder and the other resting in his.

"So formal," Wonwoo teased.

"If my dad saw your hand anywhere near my ass," you chortled softly, your voice trailing off.

He whistled. "Touche."

You did your best to avoid his eyes, fearful of falling too deep, too fast. You'd make your decision on your feelings tomorrow when your heart was calmer and your thinking was less foggy. You didn't want do anything brash just because you were drunk on adrenaline - Wonwoo deserved better than that.

As the two of you turned in your steps, you caught a glimpse of your mom still watching. She did her best to conceal her phone behind her purse, but it was clear as day she was recording or taking pictures.

"Feels like my mom might be more in love with you than I am," you joked.

Wonwoo's pressed his lips together in effort to hide his growing smile. "Are you . . . trying to tell me something?"

"No," you chuckled, finally looking up at him. "Not yet, at least."

He was breath-taking under this lighting. The gold and purple casted pretty shadows that danced across his features. It highlighting the slant of his scrunched nose and if you really let yourself go there, you were starting to see the hearts that Rina was talking about.

"You . . . deserve a proper answer, Wonwoo," you told him. There was a hint of hesitancy in your tone. "Someone with firm and certain feelings for you."

"Hey," Wonwoo pulled you closer to him, adjusting his hold on your back. "Don't say that."

"But -"

"I'm not taking any buts," he warned you, "I waited this long to tell you, I'm not expecting you to suddenly love me in return - not like that at least."

"Won't this make it weird between us?" you finally asked the question lingering on your mind since his confession.

"It's only weird, if you make it weird."

The song finally drew to a close. Wonwoo's arms fell from your form, but he made no effort to create distance between the two of you. Couples brushed past you, dresses skimming across his own while people's eyes lingered on the unofficial couple of the night, wondering just what they could be whispering about.

"Tell you what," Wonwoo tucked a hand into his pants pocket. He let his head hang, kicking at the invisible pebbles on the dance floor. "How about I take you on a date when we get back home?"

"A-a . . . a date?" you repeated after him.

"Mhm," he hummed, "I'll court you properly - give you a chance to see my romantic side."

"Ew," you chuckled at his attempt at a flirt, "I think I'll pass."

You started to walk away, waving him off. However, Wonwoo was quick to grab you by the crook of your elbow simultaneously pulling you back while speed walking after you.

"C'mon," Wonwoo sighed, "Jokes aside - please?"

You paused, pulling your bottom lips in between your teeth. His eyes were hopeful, the corners of his lips crinkled as he did his best to contain himself.

Would it be so bad?

A date with him would be no different from your usual hang out, right?

"Fine," you replied briskly.

He grinned widely.

"But," you spun around, your face reflecting his same dopey expression. You pointed at him. "No cheesy shit - I might vomit if you're too romantic."

His hand slipped down your arm, encasing yours in his own again for the umpteenth time that evening, giving you a firm squeeze. Finding your hand in almost every occasion was starting to become second nature.

"Deal."

You tipped your head towards him playfully. "I'll be waiting for the details then, Mr. Jeon."

"Is this where I'm supposed to say, 'it's a pleasure doing business with you'?"

"Only if it works out!"

. . . .

One month later, you finally let him kiss you on the lips - for real.

The situation wasn't ideal because it was raining, you both forgot your umbrellas, and you both caught a cold the next day, but it indeed was a pleasure doing business with Jeon Wonwoo.

#my transient phase as a wonwoorideul ends here #🏳🏳🏳#i modified the ending skdjfa;df #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo crack #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen crack #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios

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dollface-yandere · 1 year

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"only one bed?" you're kidding."

yandere! diego brando x reader

warning; non-consensual touching, yandere and dark themes, suggestive touch, blackmailing, inappropriate use of stand, probably ooc, scratching, kicking

prompt; you stop at a hotel for rest before the next segment of the race. unfortunately; there's only one bed, and you really, really hate the man you're forced to travel with.

"that'll be.." the receptionist at the hotel paused to look you in the eyes. "oh, could i ask real quick? the sign outside says the competitors from the race are allowed free lodging.. that is still a thing, no?"

diego put one hand on his hip and turned his heel, his other arm reaching for his pockets. you stood anxiously next to him, teetering up and down on your toes waiting for the lady to assign you a room and give you the key.

you kept yourself reminded of how he treated you earlier that day. the toe of his leather boots roughly dug into your cheek, rubbing a combination of dirt, sand, and gravel into your face while his other foot weighed down on your back to prevent you from standing back up.

his rough voice quieted down for that moment. he removed his foot from your back, kneeling down to your eye level, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling your face up. he brought dry lips to your ear, keeping his voice low so that if anybody did find you two, nobody'd see.

your eyes widened while he whispered in your ear your biggest secret that you hadn't told any other racers. you still don't know how he found out. was he spying on you the previous night? or did he pay someone to figure it out and tell him?

the receptionist's voice seemed to have brought you back out of your trance. "my apologies, i should have known you were racers! theres one last room, it should be a double bed. the number is 115, on the third floor. and, here are your keys."

she stuck out her hand, holding a keyring with a singluar key on it. the key appeared gold with the numbers "115" engraved into the dirty, worn brass.

with each step up the stairs, you felt uneasy. all you wanted was to get a room and get to bed. diego took his sweet time unlocking the door, too. after what felt like 5 minutes, you sighed in relief, even if it only took one minute. you and diego entered the room. everything was perfectly decorated and pristine. one slight issue; there was only one bed.

"no goddamn way," you huffed out and paused, dropping your belongings on the floor by your feet, "no way am i sharing a bed with you."

there must have been a mix-up. the lady downstairs said there was only one room left with two beds. it appears she was wrong, because you and diego stood before a hotel room with not two, but one single bed. the registration counter was closed now, you were lucky enough to get a room before she closed up for the night.

now, it's 10:34pm. you've been arguing back and forth with diego about sleeping arrangements for 2 minutes now. "i'm not gonna share a bed with you. horses will fly before i lay next to your stupid ass."

after arguing and arguing, you found yourself lying on your side facing the wall, while diego stared up at the ceiling. you could feel him shift positions. "what are you doing? just go to bed." a hand with.. what felt like much longer nails than diego had, rested on your waist, moving up and down your sides.

"don't be like that." he trailed his hand up your body for another minute until you had enough. "damn it, stop that! i can't sleep with you doing.." your voice stopped suddenly after you turned around.

he looked.. different. his nails were more like sharp claws, his tongue was unusally long, and a bandage peeled off his face to reveal a long slit from his mouth through half of his cheek. sharp teeth replaced his usual straight, normal teeth.

"what's the matter? i thought you wanted to sleep." diego smirked with confidence while he placed another hand on your shoulder, his claws scratching into your skin while you stared in horror.

#dollface-yandere #df-y fic #diego brando #diego brando x reader #yandere diego brando #jojo yandere #yandere content #yandere #steel ball run #jojos bizarre adventure #jjba #jjba part seven #jjba part 7

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harley-sunday · 1 year

Note

Hello hi yes— Can I please have Daniel with #40 for the Spotify wrapped? Thanks.

(This was in zero way discussed prior to me sending this in… 😬)

Spotify wrapped 2022 drabbles - where you send me a number from 1 - 100 and I’ll write a 5-sentence drabble based on that song in my Spotify Wrapped list.

# 40 goal of the century - Gang Of Youths Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x reader Warnings: none AN: Based solely on the line “I made a pact with myself, I made a deal” and set in Abu Dhabi 2022. Part of the Pieces of Us universe.

“Ah, shit, I know this one And I, I know it's real When I heard it on something I levitated, it eviscerated me, I got the meaning of it I got the feel That shit was underrated I made a pact with myself made a deal”

He feels- There’s so much energy radiating off him that it’s almost tangible, as if there’s static electricity buzzing all around him, and so he tries his hardest to ground himself with one of the breathing exercises Michael’s taught him even though he knows it’s no good. And so, without taking his eyes off his wife, he reaches behind him, fingers curling around the hotel room’s door knob because if they wait any longer he's afraid he'll actually combust, and then he raises his eyebrows, the unspoken question hanging heavy in the air.

She nods, because of course she understands exactly what it is he wants to say, and runs her hand over the navy blue fabric of his polo once again, quietly commenting how much better he looks in this than the ugly papaya McLaren had him in for the last two years. When she looks up at him there are tears in her eyes and he knows she’s as excited about this as he is, “You ready?”

“Yep,” he presses a kiss to her forehead and cups her face with his free hand, his thumb caressing her cheek. “Let’s go home, babe.”

#Harley answers asks #Spotify wrapped drabbles #Daniel Ricciardo x reader #F1 drabble #Harley Sunday x Daniel Ricciardo #DF anon #who requested this number with a Chris Evans fic first and I was like #babe #maybe give it another go lol

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hellishjoel · 9 months

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i have never wanted a splinter so bad in my life

so real honestly

I hope whenever ya'll get a future splinter from here on out, you think of Joel Miller plucking it out in his woodshed and if anything else happens after that, well, you know

read off to the races for some fun dbf!joel!

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller one shot #joel miller smut #the last of us #joel tlou #joel miller x f!reader #tlou #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #dad's best friend #df!joel miller #hellishjoel

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swanlakebaby · 3 months

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— bad habits | pjm

prompt: friends with benefits.

⸝⸝ pairing: bts!jimin x fem!reader

⸝⸝ warnings: friends with benefits, kissing, soft jimin, sneaking around, semi-smut

⸝⸝ word count: 1.2k

⸝⸝ note: n/a

nsfw, 18+, minors dni

jimin : come to balcony

you: ???

looking up from your phone , jimin stands by the balcony door , motioning his head for you to join him as he begins to walk outside. standing up from your spot on the couch , you excuse yourself & head toward the balcony to join him. once outside , without a word jimin suddenly pulls you in for a kiss. wrapping your arms around him , you stop and look up at him after a few moments of kissing.

“won’t they see us from here ?” you ask him in a soft voice. he smiles before shaking his head. “we can go somewhere more private if you’d like.” jimin slides open the balcony door , then stops , “come to the back two minutes after i do” he heads back inside and leaves you to wait , that way it’s less suspicious then you both going to the back of the house at the same time.

after some time passes , you walk back in the house and head to the back. you peek thru the slit of one of the room doors and see jimin sitting on the bed waiting for you. you push the door open softly and walk in. his face lights up , assuming you were able to make it without causing suspicion. closing the door behind you , you walk over toward him standing in between his legs as he sits on the bed , putting his hands on your waist.

putting your hands around his neck , you sigh , “we can’t keep doing this , what if the others find out ?” you say , frowning. “they won’t find out , and even if they do , that’s okay too. we’re adults.” jimin smiles warmly at you. doubtful , the worried look on your face doesn’t go away. jimin notices and places a soft hand on your chin , cupping it. “look at me.” you look down at jimin as he pulls you toward him for a peck on the lips. “lets enjoy our time together before we cause suspicion , okay?” jimin begins playing with the thin spaghetti strap of your shirt. you nod silently before ensuring to lock the door of the room. jimin motions for you to lay on the bed and you do as you’re told. jimin hovers over you his hair dangling just above you , tickling your face. he begins to rub all over your body , taking in your beauty.

he still doesn’t understand why you agreed to this , to mess around like lovers and act like friends on the surface. there was no messy reason as to why you couldn’t be together. your parents wouldn’t mind , nor would your friends. however , one singular hookup turned into two , three , and four. spending the weekend at each others apartments for a night of fun and romance. was it a secret crush? lust? he didn’t know , but it didn’t matter. because for the night you were his and nobody else’s. it didn’t matter who else you were hooking up with , or who you were currently entertaining and going on dates with , because as long as you were in the same room , you were his prize only. which i guess was the benefit of being friends with benefits. spend your time together doing as you please with no official labels , then going home after to continue life as normal.

jimin places soft pecks on your neck, trailing down to your warm thighs. he rests there for a minute , allowing your body heat to cozy him up , before tucking his fingers in the loop holes of your jeans and dragging them off of your legs. he quietly tosses them to the side of the bed before removing his own , only keeping on his boxers. he then lowers himself on top of you , wrapping his right arm around your torso slightly lifting you off the bed , as his left arm rests on your boob. he begins to form circular motions on your nipple, teasing you. you smile up at him , wanting more. getting the hint , he stops and slides down the bed , his head making eye level with your panties. slowly , he takes his finger and slides your panties over , keeping your legs spread and revealing your vagina to him. without much hesitation he begins to eat you out. a rush of the sudden satisfaction gives you chills as you slightly arch your back. he holds your thighs in place as he licks the most delicate and sensitive parts of you. holding in your moans , you stare up at the ceiling.

after only a few moments , you feel that climax is near. you suck in a breath , putting your right hand through jimin’s dark chocolate hair. you feel his head move as he begins to eat you more aggressively now , wanting you to release yourself on his mouth. suddenly , a wave of pleasure fills your body as your legs begin to shake. you groan softly as you orgasm , jimin then sitting up , his mouth wet. he smiles at you , satisfied at his work.

he reaches to the side of the bed , pulling open the drawer of his nightstand and pulling out a condom. he unwraps it slowly and hands it to you. he keeps his boxers on , but allows his cock out of them. seeing that he’s already hard , you begin putting the condom on him. he motions for you to sit up and leans in for a kiss as you do , before motioning you off of the bed. he turns you around and bends you over the bed. seeming desperate now , he doesn’t hesitate to shove his cock inside of you. you let out a soft moan as he begins to stroke in you. he holds onto the sides of your body as he does so , throwing his head back in pleasure. the bed rocks slightly , the sound of your skin softly smacking against each other turns you on and you feel yourself becoming even more slick and creamy.

jimin stops momentarily and gives you a rough kiss on the back of your neck , when suddenly a knock is heard on the bedroom door. in shock , you both freeze. “jimin are you in there?” one of your friends ask. jimin shouts , “uh yeah , i am.”

“well what are you doing in there? and why is the door locked?”

“i’m changing, just give me a few more minutes please.” jimin softly strokes in and out of you , before you grab onto his wrist , wanting him to stop in fear of being caught. “oh okay. well hurry up slow poke.” the sounds of footsteps can be heard fading away as jimin’s friend heads back into the living room with the others. jimin lets out a relieved sigh before sliding out of you. “we can continue when they leave.” jimin says.

you fix your underwear and slowly put your jeans back on. walking felt weird , as you could feel your wetness getting onto your thighs. “i’ll act like i was in the bathroom. bye jimin.” you say , walking out of the room. jimin stares at the back of you as you go , not wanting this moment to end. he wonders for a moment how he can get everyone to leave sooner so that you could be his again.

before walking out of the room he quickly changes into a new shirt , joining his friends once again.

written by swanlakebaby™

#bts fanfic #bts jimin #bts smut #bts x reader #bts #bangtan #park jimin #jiminie #jimin df #jiminsmut #jimin x reader #jiminshiii #bts army #bts fic #bts layouts #smut #kpop

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yzzart · 5 months

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"This suits me better."

pairing: Tom Blyth x actress!reader

summary: Tom and you wear the same jacket and it doesn't go unnoticed by your fans.

word count: 535!

"Look at this!"

The atmosphere of the room, which smelled like a mixture of fragrances, was contemplated with your willing and excited laughter, wanting to comment on a peculiar thing that passed before your eyes. — And that you could spend hours and hours talking about.

Moving around on the bed, you sat and anxiously waited for your boyfriend's attention, who was focused on something on his cell phone; possibly something related to Instagram, as you received an account notification from it.

In a matter of a few seconds, Tom looked away from his cell phone, leaving it resting on his lap, and paid attention to what you were showing him. — They were photos.

But not ordinary photos, funny images or some meme; they were photos of you and him. — To be more specific, a photo of you and a photo of him; In your photo, you were on your way to the radio building where you were going to give an interview and in Tom's photo, it was an excerpt from an interview he did with Rachel. —Nothing much, right?

Just a peculiar and interesting factor, which did not go unnoticed by the attentive and connected eyes of the fans, that you were wearing the same jacket that Tom was wearing in the second photo. — Which, by the way, was extremely comfortable and beautiful; and it still smelled like Blyth. — He even said he felt robbed.

The tweets about your relationship were funny, charming and brought adorable smiles to your lips; df course, that feeling, a sense of fear and concern was not left behind, but it never entered your relationship. — And you've lost count of how many posts about you two Rachel has already sent.

"I can't believe they realized that." — Tom was intrigued, with a shy smile and finding the comment on the photo funny; who talked excitedly about you wearing the same piece of clothing. — "Actually, i do."

"I think it's cute." — The oldest asked permission, with a look, to take out your cell phone and look at the photos in a better way and you granted it, watching him zoom in on your photo. — "And they still agree that this jacket suits me better."

"Oh, of course, my love." — Blyth laughed, in an ironic tone and with his eyebrows raised, continuing to see the tweet and some of the comments present in them.

One more movement in bed, now, not so abruptly, made by you when you pick up a pillow and lean on it. — The fabric was so soft and smelled like Tom's fragrance, one of your favorites, and the typical smell of new things.

"There are people who agree that it suits me." — He exclaims with satisfaction, turning the device towards you.

"Oh, of course, my love." — Now, your voice had an ironic tone accompanied by a playful smile, pretending to believe your lover's words and bringing your face closer to his; slowly kissing his cheek.

Automatically, Tom turned his face towards you, face to face, and pressed his lips against yours in a quick kiss. — You could feel a smile forming on your boyfriend's delicious lips during the kiss.

Okay, he agrees that you suit his jacket better.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus #snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus imagine #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes

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lorelune · 24 days

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dreamer's envy

|| dan heng x reader || E/18+ || first time, comfort, lore || wc: 13.4k || ao3 ||

Dan Heng is haunted by the memories of a man he no longer is. You are all to willing to help him.

minors, antis and ageless blogs dni

notes: ahhh!!! beloved dh... df... yx... this fic is a bit of a love letter to reader insert character studies and ship fic. making my two faves kiss on the mouth fr. thank you so much to @yinyuedijun for beta reading along the way!! hope you enjoy 💗

CW: reader is referred to with they/them pronouns and afab anatomy, previous dan feng/yingxing, descriptions of gore, descriptions of intimacy issues, author-created lore (plot crafted prior to penacony release), interpretations of HCQ lore, multiple characters experiencing post-trauma

NOTE: this piece is written in two points of view. one is from dan heng’s perspective, where the “you” he is referring to, is you, as in the reader. the other perspective is second-person pov where the narrator ('you') is dan feng. in these portions, 'you' have a cock and the assorted anatomy. these portions are written in italicized text.

Your hands shake. Your thighs tremble. Yingxing lays between them, your cock nestled in his mouth. It’s not sizable enough to hit the back of his throat, but Yingxing, ever the sensitive man, still has tears pricking the corners of his eyes. You stifle a moan into your hand, hastily slapped over your mouth.

Yingxing will not have it.

A strong, calloused hand grabs your wrist and yanks it. He pins your hand by your side, intertwining your fingers. He pulls off your cock with spit-slick lips and smiles.

“Beloved,” Yingxing speaks in a purr, soft and gentle and comforting against your ears. “You know I love to hear all of those sounds of yours. You’re not getting shy on me, are you?”

There’s a hint of mischief to his voice. You huff and kick at his back.

“Hurry up,” you snap at him. There's a bite to it; you mean there to be. Yingxing only looks amused by your tone— the only one on the entire Luofu who could possibly look joyful, when met with your distinct ire.

“Can’t I take my time?” Yingxing asks, licking from your balls, to base, to the head of your cock. You’re— wet. Leaking pre down your shaft. “May I undo you, my flower?”

“You’re an awful man. I will have you imprisoned.”

“You’d never.”

“You’re right, I’d do worse.” You have so many ideas brewing behind your eyes— ways to punish this wretched man for toying with you. Treating you so kindly and with such humor and wit. There is no one else like him— no one else in your many, lonely years who has lanced you in the way that Yingxing has. How treacherous of him, to steal your heart.

“You’ll have to tell me all about the ways you’ll punish me,” Yingxing hums, pushing the tip of your cock against his lips. It’s obscene. The skin at the corners of his eyes crinkle. “After you cum down my throat, though.”

Yingxing, that bastard of a man, takes you into his mouth against, bobbing his head, sucking and running the flat of his tongue over the bottom of your cock. It’s too much, all at once—

And how prettily you moan when you become undone (again) under this wonderful, awful man—

✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶

Dan Heng wakes up with such a start, he nearly vomits. He does dry heave, snatching the conveniently placed trash can nearby and dropping his head inside to sputter. Spit dribbles off his lips and falls in globs to the bottom of the basket.

He sets it aside and rubs the heels of his hands over his eyes.

Again.

Again, again, again— he has these dreams all too often. Of a life that is not his, of a lover that couldn’t possibly, ever be his. They’re visceral, vivid— as though Dan Heng is experiencing them in real time, and they’re not some awful figment that clings from a past life.

They plague him, simply. He hates every moment of them.

The pleasure of them feels poisonous. That man is not him. Yingxing— is not his. The body that writhes and gasps is not his own. He’s an onlooker, a distant stranger looking in on something intimate and dead. It’s torture, really, but Dan Heng is an expert is quiet endurance, so he copes.

He stands, still wearing day clothes, and drags himself from his sleeping bag on the floor. His companions on the Astral Express all stated their initial concern with his choice of lodging and lack of a bed, but they’ve since calmed. Everyone on the Express has their quirks. It’s like how March sleep walks, Stelle occasionally glows from her chest, and you only sleep once every few weeks and never in your own room. Dan Heng enjoys his spot in the Archives due to the various motors and machinery that lay under the floor. It’s warm, far toastier than any other room, or bed for that matter.

(He is not Dan Feng. However, Dan Heng cannot deny that his more draconic instincts are somewhat intact.)

Dan Heng throws on his slouchiest sweater, threadbare and worn, and wanders to the parlor car. An hour or so of pacing usually cures him of any antsiness, and he can nurse a cup of tea while he walks too.

This night, however, you sit in the parlor car as well. Dan Heng slows as he sees you.

You’re— an enigma to him really. Everyone on the express is a bit of a misfit, but you are a newer addition to the bunch, and he and the rest of the crew are still grappling with your oddities.

Dan Heng has, since the moment he first met you, accepted he would never fully understand you. He made peace with it, moved on and has kept his distance except when necessary. It is better this way.

You’re staring, side-long, out of one of the wide windows of the car. Your chin is perched on your palm and your perpetually blood-shot eyes are half-lidded. Dark circles are punched beneath them. You look like shit. You always look like shit, and you have assured the crew that this is normal, despite March’s initial fretting.

When you notice him staring, a kind smile curls on your lips and you wave, good-natured.

“Hey there, sleeping beauty. Are you doing alright?”

“I’m fine.” It’s not the first time you two have met like this. The Parlor Car is empty, except the two of you and the dimly glowing whale fixture that hangs from the ceiling. It feels familiar, much more comfortable than the... unwelcome familiarity of his own dreams. “I’m just fetching a cup of tea.”

“Ah, a night cap?” You hum, and crack your neck. “Sounds needed. That last dream of yours was wild.”

Dan Heng frowns, “I’ve asked you before to quit that, please. It’s invasive.”

“I would if I could,” You shrug. “But, I can’t. Besides, your dreams are loud, Dan Heng. I’d be unable to ignore them even if I was at the back of the train.”

“Can you at least not mention them?”

“I mean, I can not. But... they clearly upset you, don’t they?” You tilt your head, eyes soft. “Would you like to talk about them at all? I don’t mind listening.”

“They aren’t your concern.”

“I’m aware of that, but that doesn’t stop me from caring. I know they’re distressing.”

“You’re prying.”

“I’m asking, Dan Heng.” You sound a little desperate. Standing, you pass by him, in the direction of the passenger car. “You can say ‘no, my fellow Nameless, I would like you to never speak of me and my upsetting sex dreams,’ and I won’t ever mention them again. I don’t mean to be a thorn in your side, but the past is easier to bear in the present if you can lean on folks.”

Dan Heng is silent, stewing and stirring under his skin.

By the time he has a reply formulated, you have left the parlor car. The only sign that you’d ever been there to begin with is a patterned knit blanket left where you were sitting.

Dan Heng snatches it up before he can convince himself not to and returns to his room to add it to his ground-bound nest.

...

Welt had found you outside of a space station, idling around a refueling station. You’d been wearing a dirty utility jumpsuit with the emblem of some IPC-owned subsidiary screen-printed on the pocket. Your eyes had been glassy and far away. When Welt asked if you were alright, you had smiled and told him, “Actually, I’ve never been worse.”

The Express loves strays. It’s ultimately what he, Stelle, and March are. Welt to some extent as well, especially considering his several layers of mystery. Himeko has the disposition of a kind leader and the heart of a mother, and for all of Pom Pom’s fretting, they are always interested in a new face aboard the Astral Express, for however long they choose to be there.

It’s sensical that you were given a shower, a hot meal, and a room before you even fully understood what you were signing up for with the Express.

Dan Heng was, notably, wary of you. It was the way you looked at him after the first night you slept on the Express (one where he had predictably been plagued with images of a body that wasn’t really his being fucked and loved in a way Dan Heng couldn’t conceptualize his actual self receiving). There was clear concern etched in your expression, however you never voiced it. Not at first.

It was only after a few weeks that March pointed out you hadn’t slept since your arrival that you revealed your hand.

A bloodline blessed by the Aeon of Dreams, Sacha.

Dan Heng had heard of the Aeon, distantly. A seldom-traveled path, one for those with imagination run wild and a penchant for long naps. There were whispers that the Aeon was asleep, constantly. Otherwise, dead. Regardless, you bore the Godbeing’s blessing in some way.

You revealed this during a routine coffee break, just before Welt, March and Stelle descending to a little sandy moon. Perched on a chair, legs curled over your chest, you’d laughed when March pointed out your lack of good sleeping practices.

“I don’t need to, so I tend not to. It’s a difficult habit to break.”

You had explained to Dan Heng and Himeko that you and your kin, a race descended from a small planet from a dead solar system, all bear this blessing. No need for sleep and—

“I perceive the dreams of others.”

Dan Heng had questioned, immediately— “Perceive?”

“That’s the best way to put it.” You meet his eye and you look slack in your shoulders. Unbearably calm and tired. “What you dream, I experience along with you. The more I focus in, the more vivid it is.”

(Dan Heng is horrified and doesn’t speak to you for a week.)

After some significant, quiet panic, Dan Heng had politely asked you to not perceive his dreams if you could help it.

You’d told him you’d do your best.

And Dan Heng— appreciates the effort. Even if it's clear it's not working. You are so often up when he rises for his customary tea and jaunt, and tend to prod him a little. At least stop him to chat for a moment or tea. You’ll sneak in a cheeky comment or two, usually, but they’re so quick Dan Heng can’t do much more than blush and stumble over his next sentence.

You look highly amused and soft, those nights.

You never ridicule him, which he appreciates. More often you look pleasantly neutral, as if trying to emulate the aura of a familiar house plant near a skittish black cat.

(Dan Heng knows he is the skittish black cat.)

It’s— too much really. Dan Heng would rather bear it alone, take his cup of tea and do his laps, but he also can’t find it in him to tell you off too harshly. You tend to favor the parlor car, anyway. You get lost in the stars and galaxies they traverse easily. It would feel cruel to ask you to sequester yourself to your room simply so Dan Heng can brood more effectively.

Dan Heng does not know what to do about his own haunting (arousing) dreams, nor does he know what to do with you and your unfazed smiles.

...

You straddle Yingxing’s lap, thighs tense as you roll your hips. Your lover’s length grinds inside of you, stroking something small and hot and so good you could get drunk on it. You chase the sensation, selfish. Your hands are braced behind you, on Yingxing’s thighs as he is sprawled below.

His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a knotted mess. A hastily ripped piece of fabric binds Yingxing’s wrist together and secure to the stained wood of the bed frame. You were kind enough to carefully pull out his favored hairpin (a gift, one you commissioned him to make... for himself. Without his knowledge. Yingxing was moderately huffy about it until you tucked it into his hair yourself.) and set it aside.

Yingxing is not a weak man, but you are a Dragon, and therefore keeping him restrained and tethered is not difficult. Usually, you allow Yingxing the privilege of carving out your insides at his leisure and pace. There’s a sweet torture to it you have found yourself having grown fond of.

There is no other soul, mortal or otherwise, short-lived or long-lived, that you would allow to exert such control over you. Yingxing is an exception for you in so many ways. How dear this (foolish) craftsman has become to you.

“B-Beloved,” Yingxing’s voice is tight, strained. There’s sweat beading on his temples. “Might I persuade you into moving?”

You hum. Your tail wraps around his leg, from ankle to thigh and squeezes. The feathered tail flicks at Yingxing’s tense muscle and he jolts under you. A glittering laugh leaks from the corner of your mouth.

“Persuade me then.”

“Y-You’re not making this easy, are you?”

“I told you I wouldn’t. And you still agreed.”

“I thought the great Yinyue Jun would grant me some mercy at least. Excuse my wishful thinking. I thought that my dearest husband would forgo being a brat for at least a single night—”

You scoff.

You roll your hips, slow and deliberate. Yingxing’s words are cut off, killed in his throat as his eyes roll back into his skull. Keeping your core tight, you bury his cock in your hole to the hilt. You’re flush together, panting. It’s a tight squeeze, it always is. But the slight burn is familiar and welcome as you throw your head back and moan.

The sound is sin. If any of the Preceptors knew what this man did to you, he’d be drowned in Scalegorge within the day.

Yingxing curses in a tongue you don’t know— it’s his mother’s language, he once told you. He tries to buck up into your heat, but you hold him down and steady. Clicking your tongue and racking your nails down his chest. Thin welts rise in your wake. Yingxing lets loose a choked gasp as you slide down on his cock. The stretch is so, so good. You crave this ache. You fantasize about it when you surely shouldn’t. It haunts your—

Dreams?

✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶

Dan Heng wakes up so hard it physically hurts. He gasps, muffling a half-there sound into his pillow. It’s shameful. He feels out of his mind as he flips onto his stomach and ruts into his nest of blankets. The friction is dry, scratchy, and barely enough. However— the phantom sensations of a dead lover crawl over him. Nostalgic and tragic and nauseating.

He comes with a sob that he prays no one hears. He stains the front of his boxers as he grinds his oversensitive cock against the wet fabric. It’s too much. He’s too sensitive. It hurts, but Dan Heng doesn’t know what else to do.

He feels ashamed as he sits up and runs a hand over his face.

It’s usually not this bad. Usually he can will away any arousal with logic. Reminding himself that the pleasant touch and face he remembers is long gone and was never his to have to begin with. Only on a few occasions has he woken up disoriented enough to forget himself to actually get off.

He needs to shower.

Dan Heng blearily leaves his room with his towel slung over his arm. The showers are on the other side of the passenger car. Dan Heng turns the spray on the highest heat, cooking himself as much as he can bear. There’s a latent energy in him that always swirls, begging him to push and pull the water around him, harness it for even a moment—

Before Dan Heng can entertain such things, he exits the spray, flushed bright red with his towel around his waist.

As he exits the shower, he finds you.

You’re perched one of the plush couches, tucked into a nook in the passenger car. Your signature blanket is not with you. You look— like shit. Dark circles stamped but your eyes look alight.

Dan Heng freezes as you notice him.

“... You alright?” You ask him.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure, bud?”

“Yes.”

“Uh-huh.”

”You’re patronizing me.”

You stumble, “I don’t— I don’t mean to. That was just—”

“Please do not—”

“A lot.”

Your cheeks are flushed as you rub at them. Your gaze flits up to his then averts to the floor. You look... shy. It’s an expression he’s never seen you wear before, even when you were pulled onto the express filthy and in a heavily patched jumpsuit.

Something in Dan Heng’s chest squeezes. He doesn’t know what to say. He feels entirely too exposed. He’s not fully dry, and he can feel droplets of water dripping from his hair down to his shoulders. His throat bobs as he gulps you watch the movement with rapt attention.

He coughs.

“I asked you to refrain from viewing my dreams.”

“That one was loud.” You frown. “Incredibly loud. Like banging pots and pans, fireworks and explosives kind of loud. I couldn’t have ignored it, even though I very much want to. I’d love to give you your privacy, Dan Heng, but sadly the intricacies of your mind happen to make your dreams essentially unignorable.”

“Must you comment on them?”

“... I heard you crying after.” Your expression looks uncharacteristically torn up. Your lackadaisical smile and humor are nowhere to be found. “I was worried.”

“I can assure you, I am fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I do, regardless. The whole Express does.”

“I appreciate it. Though, it’s unnecessary.”

“Of course. Sure. Because you’re the paramount example of ‘not needing care’.”

“I’m self-sufficient.” This time, he frowns.

“You are.” You stand up and walk toward him. “‘Sufficient’ implies adequacy, not prosperity.”

“What are you implying?”

Your hands ball into fists at your sides, “That you, Dan Heng, seem like you could use some help. I won’t pry at your past, I’m aware it’s not my place to do so— however routinely having uncomfortably vivid sex dreams about a man who you clearly have complex feelings about, probably isn’t good for you. There’s an inevitable amount of strain. One that I think that you’re ignoring.”

“What help do you think I need?” His voice remains level, but your proximity has him wriggling under his skin.

“... I— could be a decent listener. I have all the time in the world. I’m always around at night.” You struggle to meet his gaze, but after a moment, your usual, easy smile erupts on your face. “Or, would you prefer more... direct assistance? I could help with that too.”

“Speak plainly.”

“Was the last time you had sex with the man in your dreams?”

Dan Heng’s throat closes up. The cloudhymn that are under his skin thrum and encircle him, for just a moment. Your eyes widen at the colors and hum of it and jump back. You almost stumble. The surge of power and energy shakes the passenger car. The whale-shaped light fixtures dance above you.

Dan Heng swallows.

“And if it was?”

You look at him, really look at him, and your eyes soften. Your center looks wide and vulnerable despite the churn in the air, “Then, do you think it could, perhaps, be helpful to add some more recent, pleasurable memories for your dreams to play with?”

Dan Heng flushes so quickly, he feels faint.

The instinctual cloudhymns around him die in an instant. He retreats, a firm grip remaining on the towel around his waist to keep it in place. He mumbles out a hasty ‘goodnight’.

He is unsure if you hear him.

...

In the days that follow, neither Dan Heng nor yourself, bring up your proposition.

The next morning, you look expectedly exhausted, but do not prod or pry at him any further. You sit at the long table for breakfast and munch on a piece of bread and some jam while Himeko goes over your next destination.

The few times you look at him, your smile is lazy and easy, however you turn away quickly.

You continue to skillfully avoid him.

Dan Heng— feels a bit bad about it. Maybe a lot. If he enters common spaces like the parlor car or dining car, you quickly leave after a peripheral greeting. You must be doing so as to not tip off the rest of the crew that there’s some amount of… tension between the two of you. Under different circumstances, Dan Heng would have appreciated the purposeful discretion, however something about it irks him.

The Express’s next destination is a repurposed space station at the edge of a solar system. A false sun, powered by a Stellaron— something to that effect. Stelle’s bodily composition is of some intrigue to the scientists looking to craft a replacement, while other factions wish to harness the Stellaron more directly than a not-so-distant source of light and heat.

Himeko’s engineering expertise is being requested, along with Welt’s understanding of Imaginary energy. March wants to go due to the complex system of bioluminescent algae that teems in the space station’s plentiful aquaponics infrastructure. (“It looks so pretty! I need photos!”)

There are very few reasons for Dan Heng to accompany them; the party’s already full. There are even fewer reasons for you to join, who, despite all of your assurances, looks particularly haggard and worse for wear. Both March and Himeko mother hen you into staying aboard the Express to keep Pom Pom company.

Dan Heng should make an excuse to leave as well. Something in his gut tells him it would be best to keep his distance from you.

(It would be easier that way.)

However, Dan Heng finds himself waving goodbye to his companions as they dock at the small port. Pom Pom has requested at least a single treat from their excursion while they wave exuberantly from his side.

You stand on Pom Pom’s right, lazily waving as well. Your shoulders are slumped.

As Pom Pom aways to dust the fixtures in the parlor car, Dan Heng faces you and speaks without thinking.

”You should rest.”

You blink owlishly at him. “… That’s not necessary.”

”You don’t look well.”

”You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

”I am being serious.”

”So am I.” You roll your eyes and shrug.

You attempt to walk away from him, but Dan Heng finds himself reaching out to grab your arm. His hand wraps around your forearm securely, firmly.

You still, wide-eyed.

”You can sleep, can’t you?”

”… I mean, yes?” You frown, glancing at his hand then back to his face.

“Would it help?”

”Help what?”

Dan Heng deadpans. “You’re exhausted.”

”… Dearest Dan Heng, I am always in this state. I apologize if my withered countenance has caused you grief. I am fine.”

You attempt to wrench your arm from his grip, but he doesn’t let you go. Your frown deepens.

“Being intentionally daft isn’t wise.”

You stare at him, “I’m not being ‘intentionally daft.’”

”I beg to differ.”

You mutter something in a tongue that Dan Heng doesn’t recognize. “What’s your deal? I apologize for getting into your business previously. I have been trying to give you ample space and shut out your dreams to the best of my ability. Is that not enough?”

”No.” No, no, no— that’s not really. It. Dan Heng isn’t sure what it is, but at this moment, his mood has little to do with your knowledge of his horrible, awful, persistent wet dreams, but something else. “I’m not upset at you for that.”

You stare and your hands ball into fists, “So, you’re really pestering me over my well-being?”

”Yes?”

”Aeons, Dan Heng.” You say his name in a croon and it makes him shudder. He wants to scream. “It really isn’t a big deal.”

”Is it straining you to not… perceive my dreams?”

Your expression goes blank. “I mean. Yes. But, it’s not a big deal—“

“You look awful.”

”You can’t have both.” You are clearly frustrated. Dan Heng’s grip is unrelenting. “I can’t— I can’t attempt to block out your silly sex dreams without a not-insignificant amount of effort. I’m either going to be very keyed into that pretty silver-haired man who you clearly wish was in your bed, or I’m going to look a bit more worse for wear. The latter, Dan Heng, does not bother me. Fretting over me isn’t going to make me less worn down.”

”And you just… don’t care that you’re tired?”

“I’m always tired.” You smile then, the same lazy, curling quirk of your lips that you so often wear, ever since the Express dragged you aboard from that rest stop. Dull-eyed and wearing a filthy utility jumpsuit. “I don’t want to cause you all any additional grief. I wish you wouldn’t worry about me.”

Dan Heng doesn’t know what to say.

“... That isn’t your choice.” The words feel paltry, half-there.

You pull your arm from his grip, thumbing at the spot where he held you. Your soft day clothes have rumbled under his grip, “That’s hilarious, coming from you, Dan Heng.”

“This is different.”

“How so?”

“Because—” Dan Heng clicks his tongue. Something— something simmers just under his chest. Something bigger than himself, salty like the sea and heavy like green stone that writhes as you stare him down. “Because my dreams are my business. The man— men— in my dreams are my ills to carry. They should not affect my present. You shouldn’t be affected by them.”

“Well, crazy, but I am—” You go nose-to-nose with him and huff. Dan Heng backs into a railing behind him, back curving. “Because I don’t like seeing you in pain—”

Something kicks Dan Heng’s shin and he hisses. You jump away from him with a stumble, looking down at a glowering Pom Pom. Their tail twitches.

“No fighting in my parlor car!” Pom Pom huffs. “Does Pom Pom need to get Miss Himeko’s ‘get along’ shirt?”

“That’s not necessary,” Dan Heng rushes to say.

You’re already walking away, out of the parlor car with a shake of your head and one last wistful look.

...

You tear your heart from your chest.

It is expectedly painful, even if you braced for it. Even if in your deepest meditations, you simulated the pain of such a loss with cloudhymn to prepare for this moment, on the off chance you would need to lose your heart from between your ribs and give it to your beloved. So few of Long’s scions retain the ability to rebirth with multiple hearts— only a handful of high elders, really. You can imagine what they will say about you, think about this act you’re committing.

Sin. And a painful one.

The blade in your hand clatters to the ground as you hold your heart in your own palm. It’s large— a dragon’s heart. It will not fit in the chest of a mortal.

(But, you will make it fit.)

Yingxing is— is— he’s dead. He’s a corpse on the ground below you. One of his arms is missing, while the other is twisted at a most unnatural angle. His star silver hair is a tangled knot in the dirt, Yingxing’s favored hairpin shattered somewhere in the foreground. The color is no longer pure. It’s a dirty scarlet. A mix of your beloved’s blood and Shuhu’s.

Yingxing’s eyes are half open and dull. Purple turned bruised-petal lilac. His lip is split and blood trickles from the corner of his lips,

This is not to say anything about his middle which is—

Not really there.

It makes inserting the heart easier. You think so anyway. Your hands shake (they never have before, not like this) and you cry (you have not cried like this before) as you shove the heart into Yingxing’s necrotic chest. You have to further break his ribs to shove your heart into him. Cloudhymn spins around you— a storm, a gale for you. It dulls the screams from your younger companion begging you to stop. A beast roars in the distance, above it all. The sound makes the air tremble and split. Your ears would bleed, were you a weaker species.

(A necessary sacrifice— she— she was already dead. Past saving. You only have two hearts. One which is yours and one which is now—)

Yingxing’s.

Your beloved flinches. Lurches as unnatural growth burgeons from him. He wails on the ground as magics spin within him. You are doing the most unholy thing to him. But, you must, right? You cannot lose him. You cannot lose Yingxing. You have given everything, always, as every self, to your role and its meaning— can you not have this one thing? May your beloved not stay by your side, however unfair and painful the circumstances?

Unblemished, ghostly pale tissue regrows from Yingxing’s body at an alarming pace. It rejoins his upper and lower halves together as he screams.

Yingxing’s hands wrap around your neck and you’re shoved into the dirt. You are not expecting the force and the impact, even less so. The air knock out of you and the cloudhymns shudder. The magics are thinner for a moment, you could see your other companions if you chose to. You could see how many Xianzhou cloud knights have fallen to the beast you created.

You ignore them.

You ignore them all to look up at your beloved. Eyes now a wild red, teeth glimmering white and stained with blood. His hair has darkened, silver turned dark, like it had been dipped in thick, viscous oil. Yingxing bares his teeth and screams at you.

“WHAT DID YOU DO!”

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, DAN FENG!”

—!

✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶

Dan Heng awakens to a silent Astral Express. The trainship is still docked and it’s running on ancillary power in the meantime.

It’s entirely too quiet. All he can hear is the pounding of his own heart.

He scrambles to grab at his own chest— there’s no gaping hole. There’s no— there’s no blood on his hands (not real, material blood anyway . Various parties would beg to differ as to if he has any actual blood on his hands. But, the past is the past, isn’t it? These dreams are the afterimages of the life of a deadman. That’s all they can be. The man that chases him across the universe bears a different name and a younger face. The man who will always make time for him on a Godship, so very far away, may use his name ‘Dan Heng’, but is that who he truly sees when he looks at Dan Heng?)

Dan Heng dry heaves into his hands.

He barely manages to crawl to the little bathroom attached to his room to puke his brains out. He hasn’t had much of an appetite over the past few days, and most of what comes up is water, pile, and half-digested rice porridge.

By the time he withdraws and flushes, wiping his hand over his mouth, he feels winded. Disgusting. Sweaty and entirely too wet.

Shower.

Dan Heng methodically grabs his few supplies and walks across the silent Astral Express to the showers. He could take a bath— maybe it would help. March keeps minty bath products out and available that are so strong that they tend to pull any of the Express’s passengers out of a funk if used. There’s a little basket of them in the tiled common area of the baths. There’s a hand-written note in March’s perfect scrawl that says “Please take one❤️!)

Dan Heng snatches a few before picking his favored, individual shower. There’s a little atrium before entering the shower itself, where he sheds his drenched bedclothes and hangs them, along with his towel. He turns on the shower and idles for a moment, listening to the dull roar of it.

Water splashes onto him in droplets. There’s a (dormant. Dormant. He swears it’s dormant) instinct to ball the errant water up and toy with it with cloudhymn. The pearl that idles in the center of Cloud Piercer has many different ways to harness its power beyond a weapon of steel that—

(Isn’t his, is it?)

Dan Heng wants to vomit again. He steps into the spray before the nausea overtakes him.

The spray is cold— he usually takes cold showers, regardless of if it’s after a particularly intimate dream. He prefers cold water. He enjoys cold baths, but they’re a luxury he enjoys only once in a while, and usually for the better part of a day. He’ll stay submerged for what would be a worrisome amount of time (if he didn’t bear the spare parts of imbibitor lunae) and, despite his assurances, worries the rest of the crew. As sedentary and reclusive as Dan Heng can be, camping out in the baths for the better part of a day causes a stir amongst the express.

They’re a treat, a bothersome one.

Now, he washes himself thoroughly. It’s a mechanical and rhythmic thing. It soothes him. His breath comes steadier.

Dan Heng hasn’t had a dream that unpleasant in quite some time. He has always had the more gruesome— of tragedies beyond this knowledge. But, they’re rarer. He is haunted more frequently by memories of pleasure and that almost makes the shadow of Dan Feng more cloying. The gruesome are just that— gruesome. He has put together pieces of Dan Feng’s sin, though he refuses to touch the Archive’s documents ported from the Luofu on the subject.

Ignorance is bliss and Dan Heng feels knowledgeable enough. The breach between his own memories and Dan Feng’s is less solid than it once was. Dan Heng will more than likely find out with time.

It despairs him for a moment as he turns off the water and towels off. He feels— more lucid. Better.

He’s surprised that you haven’t sought him out.

There’s— no way you didn’t perceive that dream. Dan Heng can’t be entirely sure what you mean when you call a dream ‘loud’, but he knows the very real pain he felt during it could constitute as such. He listens closely as he dresses in new bedclothes. The Express is still quiet aside from machine hum.

Dan Heng could check on you. He thinks about it. Your room is just past Stelle’s and considering you weren’t in the parlor car, you’re probably there.

You shouldn’t have seen that. But, it’s not like Dan Heng can help it, right?

The tangle of feelings within Dan Heng writhes as he exits the showers. It grows even more unruly as he notes a change in the parlor car.

Resting on one of the plush seats is a hastily folded blanket, a still-steaming cup of tea, and a small, folded note.

Dan Heng approaches and reads.

i’ve noticed you like my blankets. take this one. it’s one of my favorites.

have some tea and rest if you can.

— [name] ╰(*°▽°*)

The penmanship is shaky, and clearly quickly written. None of the paper’s folds match up with each other. There’s a spill of tea on the coffee table that looks half-wiped away.

Something heavy settles in Dan Heng’s gut. He gathers the blanket, the tea, and your note and heads back to the archives with a pit in his chest.

Like he’s still missing a heart.

...

Things come to a head a few days later. The rest of the Astral Express crew is still sorting things on the space station, and you and Dan Heng only have so much space to dodge each other.

And, truthfully? Dan Heng stopped avoiding you the day before yesterday. Now, he is actively (read: passively but passionately) trying to seek you out. This involves listening keenly for when you leave your room, but lately, those trips are few and far between. And always occurring while Dan Heng is asleep. Pom Pom confirms this, looking increasingly uneasy at the clear tension between the two of you.

Dan Heng— doesn’t know what to do. He is good at running from his problems. He put Cloud Piercer through— Blade’s chest any number of times and hopped to the next planet more times than he cared to think about. He ran from the shackling prison, the Luofu, and its General without looking back even in a cursory way. Dan Heng finds sentimentality to be a new feeling, a new fixture within his person and does not know how to handle it. He does not want to run away from you— he wants to run toward you.

The blankets of yours (three in total) are in his nest. He paces the passenger car each night hoping you’ll reveal yourself. He hovers outside of your door, hand poised to knock, but he never does.

He does not know what he’d say.

Dan Heng does not have confidence in his words in that way. He can speak well— it’s an overhang from Dan Feng, and he is grateful for it, but on more than one occasion, March has (rather explosively) shouted at him for being so... blank-faced in the heat of an emotional conflict. The two of them occasionally do butt heads, usually when March is attempting to run headfirst into a situation without proper forethought, and those encounters have ended with March tearfully screaming at Dan Heng to just be “honest with his face!”

His lack of expression is also an overhang for Dan Feng.

No matter how well-crafted his sentences and well-spoken his words, Dan Heng cannot connect them to how he feels... effectively. It’s disjointed. Like armor made with incorrectly sized plates that cannot possibly be pieced together. Clothing created with a misdrawn pattern, never able to be sewn in a wearable way.

If he were to face you, he is certain he will not be able to voice how he feels.

He can at least— do something. Give you something, since you seem so hellbent on leaving him special tea blends you’ve stashed away and BLANKETS.

(Do you have any idea what you’re doing to him?)

Dan Heng stops trying to run from you. He resolves to do something or say something because it's better than the widening rift that’s currently being run through the Astral Express, between the two of you.

Dan Heng gets his opportunity in the late evening. He’d— feigned sleep. Intentionally. A deep state of meditation for long enough that you might think he was enjoying a dreamless night of sleep, however, he’d only be idle, waiting for sounds of any of your activity in the direction of the parlor and meal car.

Dan Heng hears your door slide open down the hall as he sits upright, cross-legged in his nest of many blankets and pillows. Your steps are quiet, the lightest pad against the flooring outside. He strains to hear you.

He does notice, however, how you move even slower as you walk past his door. So clearly intentionally trying to keep quiet for his sake.

Dan Heng waits a few minutes until he’s certain you’re either in the Parlor Car or Meal Car before uncrossing his legs and bounding from his room. He means— to be more put together about this. But, he’s nervous he’ll miss his chance, and you’ll retreat, and be gone for longer—

Dan Heng finds you in the meal car, poking over cold dinner leftovers with a sullen expression. Your brows are heavy, eyes dull. You look— awful. You always look awful, he’s sure you’ll assure him, but now you look bad. You look ill. Unwell. The oversized shirt hanging from your shoulders billows in an uncomfortable way. It has too many undone buttons, leaving a deep v, exposing too much of your chest.

You look up at him, eyes widening.

“I thought you were asleep.” You say softly, putting down the tongs you had been using. You didn’t bother picking up any food, your little bowl is entirely empty.

Dan Heng opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He snaps it shut a moment later.

Your eyes soften and you sag. You look like you could melt into the Express’s floor at any moment. Your eyes radiate... pity.

“Did I wake you? I try to be quiet.” You laugh, looking sidelong, out one of the many windows. “Sorry about the fuss. I’ll get out of your hair.”

Dan Heng is frozen.

You idle, only for a moment, holding your breath, before shaking your head minutely. It— it makes his palms sweat. You try to shuffle past him. Dan Heng is blocking your only exit, and you attempt to side-step him as he gapes at you, unmoving. Unsure.

Dan Heng grabs you by the forearm as you pass.

He holds you there. Steady. His grip is firm and unyielding. Maybe too tight, based on your sharp intake of breath as you wobble in place. Dan Heng steadies you with his other hand. Without— thinking, his palm lands on your ribcage and you jump with the contact.

You stare at him, wide-eyed.

And you face each other.

“You’re avoiding me.” Dan Heng speaks first. His words feel sure, but there’s a sticky feeling in his chest.

“... Perhaps.” You smile easily, despite how worn you look. “It seems like you have a lot on your mind. I didn’t want my presence and what it entails to burden you, dearest Dan Heng. I apologize if that wasn’t clear.”

“What do you mean by your ‘presence and what entails’?”

You look like you’ve been punched. Dan Heng feels ill.

“Exactly what it sounds like.”

“Please be straightforward.

“Kind Dan Heng, I am—”

“Please, explain yourself.” Dan Heng feels— frustration bubble up into the back of his throat. It’s acidic. He looks from the grip he has on your arm to your face, lingering on the chapped lines of your lips before meeting your eyes. “Why do you think you would burden me?”

You look at him sadly, “I thought we’ve been over this.”

“We haven’t, to my knowledge.” Dan Heng frowns. You look like you’ve been slapped.

“I apologize.” You shouldn’t be. “Dan Heng, don’t I know too much?”

He locks his jaw.

You continue. “You’re an incredibly private person. I don’t want to know about a past you’re clearly not comfortable sharing. I cannot help what I am able to perceive, however I can create some distance between the two of us, so as not to suffocate you with the fact that I know about your dirty laundry without your expressed consent.”

Dan Heng’s mouth is dry.

You’re an unbearably earnest individual. As mysterious as you make yourself, you don’t tend to lie. You’re blunt in a way that’s disarming, heart flayed open as if rended with a short, sharp blade, on display for anyone who would like to view and poke at it.

“I apologize for communicating that more effectively,” You add more softly. You place your hand over his, the one bracing your arm. You squeeze. “It must be hard to bear those things, and you’ve made it clear you wish to do so alone. I want to respect that and you, Dan Heng. My door is always open, but I thought it might be easier for you to not... be reminded so easily, by my presence.”

Your eyes are wet as you look away from him, to the floor. You take the smallest, most guarded intake of breath. It looks like you’re trying not to cry.

Dan Heng feels something cold and large in his chest. Big enough to swallow him whole.

He says your name, even and unwavering, with the weight of the sea behind it. You glance up at him, straining to give him your same lazy, forced smile—

And he kisses it off your lips.

It’s not an action Dan Heng thinks about. You’re almost close enough to feel each other’s breath regardless. One moment, he is staring at you with his own frown, and the next his lips are on yours, tilting his head to search for the best angle. The force of the action has you stumbling back into the wall behind you. The hand he kept on your ribs moves to your waist, bracing you.

It takes a moment for you to react. A startled little (whimper, a whimper) sound gets muffled by his lips as he cradles your jaw. Deepening the gesture. You react and— return it. Moving your lips against his, leaning into his grip.

Only to freeze, and shove at his shoulders a moment later, “W-Wait.”

Dan Heng pulls back, panting.

“You don’t have to do this,” you tell him. There’s an urgency in your voice like you’re scared. You nervously run your hands up and down his arms. Dan Heng doesn’t even think you’re aware you’re doing so. “I— I offered sex to you seriously, but— don’t just take my affection because you want to close the distance. There’s other ways to be intimate, you know?”

“I’m aware,” says Dan Heng. Your lips are just barely kiss bruised. He wants to make it worse. It’s an easier expression of the gulf in his chest that writhes with your closeness. “However, I want to fuck you.”

The dullness of your eyes is stolen as they widen. Heat rises in your cheeks. You’re stunned speechless.

...

Dan Heng wants to eat you.

As in, he wants to have you in his mouth, under his teeth and tongue, and get you in his gut so you never go away again. It’s— a draconic instinct. Something carnal and old that could swallow him alive. It is another overhang from Dan Feng. Such bloody impulses aren’t... uncommon for Dan Heng. However, he has learned to temper them with training, combat, and more recently, some expression of cloudhymn.

Never sex, however. Because your initial guess was correct. Dan Heng has not ever had sex, and the last time Dan Feng had had sex, he is fairly certain was a teary, bloody affair with a half-dead, bloodied Yingxing.

This encounter, however, is very different.

There is no swirling Scalegorge and broken, coral-lined streets. There is no sand grating against his knees over Yingxing's almost-corpse. There is no tempest of his own making, cracking the sky in two, and tearing the world asunder.

Rather, there is his nest of blankets and pillows, and your soft body below him. He straddles your waist, protecting the curve of your thighs with his own. The lights of the Archive’s room are dim, the machine hum below is lulling background noise and comforting. And you— you’re warm— not cold or bloodied. Your eyes are soft, but keen in a different way from the man in the echoes of memory. There’s no sharpness to you, not in your words or your presence.

You’re gentle as you cup Dan Heng’s jaw and drag him closer to kiss him.

“You’re thinking pretty hard.” You murmur against his lips. “Are you sure you want this?”

The question makes him— angry. He still doesn’t know how to voice it, so instead he pressed you down into the floor. A bodily expression.

Your hands tangle in his hair and stroke at the lower curve of his skull. It’s gentle, rhythmic and lulling. It’s nothing like—

✶ — ✶ — ✶ — ✶

Yingxing tears at your scalp, hands wound into your long hair. His cock is buried in your throat, bullied there at your request. He’s seated so deep that your nose is buried in the bristly, silver hairs at the base of him. His scent is intoxicant, musky and unclean. Instinct tells you it’s impure, but you have learned that’s conditioning.

You want to swallow him whole.

You swallow around his cock as Yingxing grinds into your throat. You gag, you always do, but Yingxing ignores you in favor of fucking your face with more vigor. The sounds that drag from you are obscene. Ugly things, guttural sounds. Tears drip down your cheeks, spit down your chin—

✶ — ✶ — ✶ — ✶

You kiss him softly, pliant beneath him and snake a hand lower, easily. It’s practiced. Like you’ve done this a hundred times. The rhythm of intimacy seems easy. You palm over his increasingly hard cock and smile against his lips.

“Does it feel good?” you ask, voice soft and curling.

Before Dan Heng can reply, you’re licking up his jaw, to his ear. You nip and suck and Dan Heng can’t help the way his eyes roll back in his head. He groans, rolling his hips against your hand. The friction is dry, but it’s something. Something new and different and not an arousing nightmare. But an arousing reality.

He moans at the contact. The sound startles him.

You seem pleased as you hum against his ear and kiss down from his most sensitive spot, lower, licking over skin with practiced motions. You nip at his collarbones, laughing under your breath when Dan Heng twitches with the pressure of it.

Dan Heng feels— thoroughly disarmed. The feeling grows more intense as you coax him to flip your positions in the next moment.

His back hits the mound of pillows softly. You cradle the back of his head as he moves and massage his scalp.

It’s— the care of it that feels different. There was clearly care between Dan Feng and Yingxing. Too much, in Dan Heng’s opinion— (they shared the kind of care that tore history asunder, love so brilliant and cloying that it could only bring sticky destruction). The kind you give him is different. There’s a warmth in your gaze which is foreign. Yingxing held passion and a brightly burning heat that would surely burn itself out too young. Branding heat.

Yours is tender, the warmth of a hearth you stacked and lit yourself. You beckon him closer with a smile on your lips and hands tangled in his hair. You tug on it, with the barest edge of pain. Dan Heng likes it.

Your knee slots between his thighs, something to grind onto. He can’t help the way he yearns for more contact, and seeks the friction. His pants are too tight, but he doesn’t want to remove them yet.

✶ — ✶ — ✶ — ✶

Yingxing tears off your clothes. Your finest robes— the ceremonial ones, silks with intricate embroidery and beaded with perfectly cut crystals— are in tatters by your bedside within moments. Yingxing’s want is unyielding. The lips that move against your own are so much, and so good. You crave it. Yingxing licks into your mouth and you moan loud enough for your entire home to hear. Never mind your attendants and preceptors.

Let them talk. Let them gossip. You have never cared for legacy regardless.

Yingxing rips away your undergarments. Gossamer things, thin and mostly see-through. You’re already hard, leaking, aching for touch. Yingxing spits on his palm and strokes you. He doesn’t stop as you squirm. You’re not used to touch, especially not like this. No matter how often Yingxing takes you like this, your body cannot fully acclimate quickly.

It takes a moment.

Yingxing uses this to his advantage. He holds you like he has something to prove as he swipes away pre from the head of your cock and licks it off his thumb. He looks smug, smitten, vibrant, and enthralled.

“How many times can I make you come tonight?” Yingxing purrs, voice rough and silken all at once. You feel your cock twitch in his hand. He smirks. “What if I break you?”

“I’d throw you through a window.” You snap at him.

“You wouldn’t.” Yingxing rubs down to the base of your cock and plays with your most tender parts. You try to kick him and he catches your ankle. Yingxing, the bastard he is, presses a kiss to your ankle. Reverent. “You like it when I break you.”

“You’re terrible.”

“And I’m yours. And I’d like to make Yinyue-Jun cry tonight.”

It’s— humiliating the way he speaks to you sometimes. He adores you. He loves you. And for that reason, he knows he can get away with goading you on and shoving you around as he does. He knows intimately what it all does to you. The way your cheeks flush and your cock leaks down its shaft are enough of an indicator. No one sees you bare. Just— him.

Just him.

✶ — ✶ — ✶ — ✶

Dan Heng starts to remove your clothes.

You seem surprised when he does. You try to take over the task yourself, but Dan Heng bats your hands away.

He wants to do this.

Dan Heng is methodical with each button and overly careful. He watches the rise and fall of your chest, noting how it hastens as he works on the last few buttons. The garment is pushed off your shoulders and discarded into his nest.

Seeing you bare is— vulnerable. Surely. You attempt to smile but— Dan Heng sees the cracks in it. As lax as you try to be, this is something different for you as well. Another mystery woven into you that Dan Heng wants to pick apart.

He rubs at your hips, up your ribs and to your chest. You gasp with his touch, leaning back to brace yourself on his thighs. It exposes you more, and— gives him more room to indulge. He cups your breast and steels his resolve when you whine.

Dan Heng has never done this. He wasn’t sure he ever would. It feels foreign and odd to touch you this way, but Dan Heng likes it. The heat that rises in your cheeks when he pinches your nipples. The soft puffs of breath and the sweat of arousal that’s growing on your temple. You roll your hips down onto his clothed cock, seeking the same contact he does.

There’s a tumble to it then. The task of disrobing continues, and you end up entirely nude on top of him, while Dan Heng is still fully clothed.

“... Is this more comfortable for you?” You ask. You aren’t... shy about your body. But there’s an unfamiliar squirm in your upper half that Dan Heng reads as discomfort.

You’re exposed. He is not.

“Somewhat.” Dan Heng lays his hand flat over his navel. He imagines what his cock would feel like inside you and he nearly blacks out.

“Why?”

Dan Heng thinks for a moment—

(It’s because Dan Feng liked power. He loved the games where he could have all of the power and control in his hands, and those where it was torn from him as well. He reveled in both. This— want is an afterburn. One that is not Dan Heng’s. Just like every other thought of intimacy and sex that Dan Heng has ever felt—)

“Dan Heng,” You breathe his name and pet his cheeks. You’re closer now, chest to chest. “Can you tell me why? It’s okay if you can’t.”

“It’s too complicated.”

“... Could you try to tell me, still? We have time.”

“I want to fuck you.”

“You can. After.”

Dan Heng frowns at you. He wants to tell you that— he wants it now. And that patience is something he has in spades but you are testing the limits of. Your poking and prodding, he wants to toss it aside in favor of the literal you in his lap.

He wets his lips as you look at him expectantly. You stroke over his cheek, soothing him as if he were an angry kitten.

“I like that—” Dan Heng starts, and his words die in his throat. What he wants to say—

(“I like that I can see all of you, while not revealing any of myself.”)

You seem like less of a mystery like this, bare and sweaty over top of him. There’s less of you that you can obscure. You’re not hiding from him, dodging him, or flaying him open with honesty while so much of you remains tucked away. You cannot hide your own arousal. Your cheeks are hot with it, your pupils dark and dilated, and your lips are licked and wet.

“Hm?” You hum, a devious smirk stretching over your lips. You grind down onto his cock, with enough pressure that it almost hurts. His eyes roll back into his head. “Can’t you tell me, Dan Heng? Why do you like hiding the way you do?”

Dan Heng stills, opening his eyes to blink at your incredulously.

“... Why do ‘I’ hide?” Dan Heng asks. His tone is rude. He internally slaps his own wrists then forgives himself, because in the next moment, you have your palm over his cock, gripping the length of him through the fabric of his pants. You flick your thumb over where the head is concealed and look smitten with the way his hips jolt.

“I am not a fool.” You toy with the button on his trousers. “Dan Heng, the Nameless, who hides and hides and hides. And feels so infinitely bad when a single card in his hand is revealed. The shame you carry, doesn’t it burden you?”

Dan Heng’s mouth is dry, “I—”

“You can hide like this. I won’t stop you,” You hum, still smiling, still lax in the shoulders. You run a hand up his navel, over his shirt, careful to retain his frail modesty. “Perhaps a bit bashful, yes. But, you’re hiding. How can you crave intimacy when you’re seeking it from behind a veil? Dearest Dan Heng, I will indulge you, because you are dear to me, but will it be fulfilling—?”

You prattle on.

Dan Heng is... seething. Quietly and carefully. Because, you are not wrong. There’s truth to your accusations. You speak no lies, yet the way you’re... delivering the truth is frail and in fragments. Your own eyes look hazy. Your touch grows shaky. Your voice is too soft around the edges for the sharpness of your words.

Dan Heng—

He knows that look.

✶ — ✶ — ✶ — ✶

You have never had sex before.

You’ve read about it, because your Preceptors made sure you did when you were young. This was in the case that you were raped, that you would know what the experience was, so it could be reported in an appropriate and timely manner.

Your exposure to sex beyond that was minimal. Though Vidyadhara copulated, it was not for the sake of procreation. It was based in pleasure, supposedly. You had learned that the humans and foxians of the Xianzhou had sex for the sake of pleasure and power which... you cannot understand. You don’t endeavor to understand it, as you have all of the power that you need.

(You are naive for this, you will learn in time.)

The first time Yingxing implores you to have sex, you know the rote motions. You assume— that since he is a human, this is what he wants from you. You let Yingxing push you down on your own mattress, and you lay there. Yingxing speaks as he disrobes himself, then tends to you.

Each layer of clothing he removes from your body feels like you’re being cut with a knife.

You haven’t let any attendants dress you since you learned to adeptly use Cloudhymn to assist yourself instead. You frequently wear three, sometimes four, layers of silken clothing, even when you are around your own home.

No one sees Yinyue-Jun bare.

And yet, Yingxing peels back each garment without much reverie. He undoes metal and mother-of-pearl clasps with a dexterous flick of his fingers and a dashing, sharp-toothed smile over his lips.

You look down at his own chest when he pushes away the final layer. Your skin is milky, untouched cream. You’re too skinny, the muscle you have is wiry without enough fat. You watch your own chest rise and fall— so quickly. Too quickly.

When you look up at Yingxing, whatever smile he had worn is gone. He wears concern so transparently over his brow as he cups your cheek. His lips move, and you do not hear him. Your own lips still move, an instinctual reply even if you do not register your own words. You can predict what you’re saying.

(“I am fine.)

(“There is no need to worry about me.”)

(“You are foolish for worrying about me.”)

Yingxing softens after you speak, and thumbs over your lips. The pads of his fingers are rough. You can feel the heat callouses, born of friction and incidental burns. It’s so much different from your own flesh, constantly-healing, pure and so rarely bruised.

Yingxing deftly falls to your side, and scoops you in his arms. He smells like iron and smoke. You’re stiff at his side.

He speaks directly in your ear, nosing the shell of it, “As much as I would love to bed Yinyue-Jun, I can recognize when I need to be a gentleman about it.”

“... Pardon?” You swallow. Your voice is foggy in your own ears.

Yingxing’s hand settles on his hip. He pulls back just enough to look at you, nose to nose, violet eyes soft in the amber sway of candles in the room.

“Yinyue-Jun is very brave, for a virgin.” This time, Yingxing smiles like a menace. You punch his back and he seems unperturbed. “Let’s take our time. You have plenty of it, and I have enough to show you how to enjoy this well.”

✶ — ✶ — ✶ — ✶

Dan Heng understands, then.

In a smooth motion, he raises his palm to fit over your mouth. You stop speaking beneath it, and you snatch his wrist up in your own grip.

“If I am hiding, then so are you,” Dan Heng says. There is no waver to his voice anymore. “And you are terrified.”

You freeze above him.

It’s enough of an opening for Dan Heng to knit his legs with your own, and drag you down into his nest. He wraps his arms around you, chest-to-chest (covering you, hiding you himself, keeping you safe and sating that fanged, draconic howl in his chest that will never fully quiet). You remain stiff in his arms, eyes wide and you’re not smiling.

Your gaze flickers up to his and holds it, unrelentingly.

“I don’t mind doing things scared.” You tell him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“Will you enjoy it if you’re scared?”

“... Maybe less, but it’ll feel nice.” You shrug, nosing at his jaw. “I like you, Dan Heng. I wouldn’t have offered sex if I didn’t want to have it.”

Dan Heng locks his jaw. He noses down your jaw, down your neck, to the juncture where your shoulder meets it. The flesh is tender. You have your free arm draped carefully over your chest, covering your most exposed, vulnerable portions as he tries to do the same to you. Your breath is soft, bated as he hovers.

“I don’t want to have sex with you if it will only feel ‘nice’,” Dan Heng says into the hollow of your throat.

“How demanding.”

The bar is on the fucking ground. “I do not think so.”

Dan Heng slides a hand lower, between your thighs. You’re only wearing shorts, soft amiri-cotton that sparkles in the lowlight of the archive’s room. It’s a thin garment. It takes nothing for Dan Heng to cup a hand over your sex. With dexterity and focus, he presses his middle finger closer. The seam of your cunt is wet, even through the fabric.

“Are you scared or nervous?” He asks.

“Hm, what about you?”

“Do not dodge my question.” He squeezes over your cunt and you clutch at his shoulders with a gasp. “Just answer it.”

You consider his question, and open your mouth like you’re going to attempt to parry him, then close it again. Your lips are smooth, petal-soft as he thumbs over them, urging them to stay closed until you have an answer.

Dan Heng struggles with eye contact, but forces himself to stare you down.

“Both?” You ask behind his finger. There’s a hint of mirth behind your words.

Dan Heng frowns, “How can it... be enjoyable for you?”

“... That’s a good question.” You look far-off for a moment, not there in his nest. “Not quite sure, but I’m sure I can.”

There’s an implicit ‘I have before’ that you do not say. However, with the way your head falls limply to the side in his grip, Dan Heng immediately knows he hit one of your rare soft spots. He— he immediately regrets it. He’s in uncharted territory that he strong-armed his way into. And he— he doesn’t know the way out. He’s a sexless virgin who masturbates once every three months and his most emotionally (and sexually) charged relationship is with the living ghost of a man insistent on killing him.

✶ — ✶ — ✶ — ✶

Yingxing does not remember much of his youth.

Dan Feng knows this intimately.

The short-lived have expiring memories that seem to muddle the old over time. Dan Feng cannot understand, as his memory is pristine and clear from the time he emerged from the ancient sea in a jade-colored egg.

Yingxing remembers the Zhuming, vaguely, and then remembers arriving on the Luofu. He vaguely remembers his first meeting with Baiheng, and sleeping on a little cot in her tiny apartment while he worked his way up in the Artisanship Commission. Lucidly, these are his earliest memories.

Outside of lucidity, Dan Feng knows Yingxing remembers more.

Occasionally, something will make Yingxing remember his unpleasant, smallest youth. The loud boom of the Luofu’s biggest fireworks. A snarling dog. Splintering wood. The scent of burnt hair.

It makes Yingxing stiffen, tense, and draw up in himself.

Dan Feng has done his own research early on. In his adolescence, Yingxing was nothing more than a scrappy refugee with nothing to his name.

Yingxing’s home planet, a lush-planet... abundant in jungle lands and river systems, was plundered by abundance. Borisins. Most of its population was wiped out. Yingxing escaped due to good fortune, luck, and no doubt sacrifices he couldn’t remember.

He understands Yingxing’s passion and revulsion much better after he learns these things.

It all enrages Dan Feng.

Yingxing’s fragmented memory, which continues to weather with time, can only give him the basest impulses when faced with something that makes him remember that frightening time. Even if he cannot remember in the mind, then he does in the body.

Dan Feng does not tell Yingxing that he knows. Yingxing is too proud a man— he’ll take offense and cause trouble. Dan Feng thinks it is better that he himself hold the knowledge, and soothe him how he can. Dan Feng can stew within himself, hone Cloud Piercer, and cut those who slighted his beloved.

It is something beyond duty.

An expression of care, one that tastes briny and bloody on Dan Feng’s fangs.

✶ — ✶ — ✶ — ✶

“Can I help?” Dan Heng asks.

You blink at him. He strokes down your cheek. You hum and press your lips into his palm.

“Can you?”

“I— I will,” Dan Heng stammers. “How can I make this less... scary, for you?”

Can he?

Your gaze penetrates him. It’s something sharp, seeking. Looking for his weak spots for a moment. You’re searching for danger in him.

You soften and cozy up closer, a moment later.

“Just... take your time, and I’ll take mine.” You kiss him, and speak against his lips. “It’s easier if we both can ease into it.”

Dan Heng nods. He... he wants to fuck you. He will.

...

You pick each other apart. Bit by bit, piece by piece.

It is a slow affair, one neither of you truly lead. You spur Dan Heng on, and he follows.

He guides you when he can, when it feels natural and normal. You seem content in those moments, more relaxed and soft-eyed.

You do not wear a full facade all of the time, but Dan Heng now knows that you are careful to keep yourself skillfully hidden.

Dan Heng finds this out, intimately, while he is between your thighs, tongue against your slit. He laps at you, in the motions you describe. Your hands are buried in his hair, directing him with your grip and the gentle grind of your hips against his face. It is— heavenly. Your thighs around his ears, the scent of you. He left a few pointed bite marks on your thighs, which you had yelped at.

He enjoyed giving them.

You fall apart against his mouth in a way he hasn’t seen before.

It’s— so good to watch. When he looks up at you, you gasp, you whine, and throw your wrist over your mouth to muffle the sounds you’re letting out. Each gasp has Dan Heng earnestly trying to wring more out of you. He watches your eyes roll back as you crest. Your thighs clamp around his skull and a broken sound rips from your throat. He guides you through it, then moves to your hole, lapping at your essence until he’s sure he’s drenched in it.

You pull him up for a kiss, and lick into his mouth. Your hands shake as they pet over his cheeks and jaw. Against his lips, you tell him— “you did so well”, “that was so good”, “thank you” —

The praise is almost unbearable Dan Heng has to hide his burning face in your neck to escape the vulnerability of it.

You pay it no mind, and just laugh at him, smothering your lips into his mused-up hair.

It’s— it’s good. It’s good and soft and nothing like the dreams he’s carried with him for fair too long.

“Did you enjoy that?” You ask him, forcing him to look at you.

“I did.”

“Good.” You’re smitten with the answer and rub at his waist. You’d— clawed off his shirt at one point. Bare to each other. Dan Heng only has on his final layer of underwear that is increasingly tight and wet, with a growing patch of pre on the front.

“Do you want me to suck you off?” You ask. Your hand, gentle, slides down his front, between your bodies to rub over his cock.

Dan Heng— struggles to find words as you tease the head of it with the tip of a finger. The smile you wear is devilish.

“Maybe later—” He manages. “I want to— be inside you.”

He wants to be closer.

You look content with that, and pet him some more.

“In due time,” You kiss his cheek. “Will you allow me to be cruel, and make you wait a little longer?”

“It’s not cruel.”

“Okay, mean then.”

“You’re the furthest thing from mean.” Dan Heng frowns. He bites your cheek in retaliation without thinking and you squirm, pinned beneath him. A laugh bubbles from your throat, and Dan Heng can’t help but twin the sound.

“So kind.”

...

Time stretches out, between languid kissing and the feel of your bare bodies so close, the night and day cycles the Express regulates do not seem of consequence. It’s the most relaxed Dan Heng has been in recent memory. You make it easy to be so.

You have no expectations when you touch him, other than the easy exchange of heat and spit.

By the time Dan Heng has your legs wrapped around your waist, cock against your hole, he’s light-headed. He wants, so much. The image of you laid out before him, bare and covered in various marks of his, will be with him for years. There’s nothing lazy or unfocused about your gaze now, there’s only desire, so hot and needy that it makes Dan Heng’s throat feel tight.

You flex your hips, pushing the tip of his cock against your clit. You both gasp.

“Please, Dan Heng?” You say smugly as you play with the sweaty hair at the nape of his neck. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“I—” The words die in his throat.

He strokes up and down the flesh of your stomach. Your muscles are relaxed, soft. You’re no longer playing a role, he thinks. You’re here, wanting, edging toward begging him. The head of his cock is purple from strain and prolonged arousal.

He presses into you slowly.

You are stretched, and Dan Heng isn’t particularly large, so he does not see any strain cross your features. If anything, there’s relief. If you were relaxed before, you’re boneless now, taking as much of him as he will give you.

Dan Heng fucks you in earnest then, under the glow of the Archive’s many machines and fixtures. You grab at his shoulders and bury your face in his neck. Dan Heng didn’t think he shared Dan Feng’s proclivity for pain, however the way your nails wrack down his back has him throbbing from inside you.

By the time he spills inside you, he’s gasping, sobbing with each thrust because it is so much. Closeness— like this— that’s real and tangible and in his grasp and within his body (only his, no one else’s) feels so vibrant and violent, it cleaves him open. He comes with a broken sound muffled into your throat, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh there. You let him, spasming with the pressure and letting out your own half-cry with the pain. Dan Heng fucks you through his orgasm, until he can’t support his weight on his knees, and he falls on top of you.

You let out a little ‘oof’, and then laugh, wrung out and happy.

Dan Heng cherishes the memory.

✶ — ✶ — ✶ — ✶

You are most tired, but you must continue to move forward.

Despite your aching rear and scratchy eyes, there are duties to attend to. Never mind that your husband is in your bed, knocked out, regardless of whatever regenerative cloudhymns you could give him. Yingxing is mortal, and no matter how much of you he consumes (figuratively), it only slows his aging, never stopping it completely.

Yingxing will die, long before you do. And that is if he dies of old age and not the diseases and maladies of the short-lived. Or some violence that you and the rest of the Quintet will be unable to protect him from.

This will not do.

You enter your study with sweeping, loose robes. You tell your attendants to leave you be. Your ritual obligations are not until the evening. Until then, you will be confine yourself in your study and continue to pour over the scrolls, documents, and books you have been able to find. It has been hard to procure some of them— having Sanctus Medicus texts brought to the home of the High Elder would be treasonous. It has required careful planning to amass the library you have, and you are diligent in keeping it hidden. Even from your lover.

He would not forgive you, were he to know.

You have never been selfish, not once in your life. In any of your lives. You have lived for your people, the Luofu, and a dead Aeon that you remain the after-image of. You have played the part well, smiled when necessary and remained cold enough to rarely stir dangerous interests. You have healed many without complaint.

As you settle into your nest of pillows and blankets, and pick up your newest scroll, you don’t feel that guilty. You will let yourself have this one thing. If nothing else in any of your lifetimes, this one fucking thing will be yours.

You unfurl the scroll with a yawn. It’s a text, an old one, from the High Elder that followed Yubie. They lived a short life for a high elder, two hundred years. However, they were a prolific scholar. Most of their works have been hidden away with time, as some are downright blasphemous and utilize the Abundance in a way that both the Vidyadhara’s high council and the Luofu’s Charioteers could not tolerate.

This particular one has not seen the light of day since that High Elder’s time. It is titled:

[The Twin-Hearted Dragon Theory: The Permanence and Abundance’s Coalescing]

✶ — ✶ — ✶ — ✶

“What a weird one.” You say with a yawn. Dan Heng can hear your voice through your chest, where his cheek is pillowed on your bare chest. He— there’s a spot of drool that’s cooling unpleasantly. He blinks awake and rises off you, to rub the stickiness away, blushing furiously.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It was cute. You were sleeping good, for once.” You tell him and muse up his hair. “Besides, you’ve gotten me far messier than that.”

You both are messy. Dan Heng can feel the stickiness on his softened cock, and he imagines you’re leaking between your legs. He sneaks a hand between your body and gently feels along your thighs to confirm his suspicion.

You gasp when he grazes your core. You— you are dripping. Cold, too. It must be uncomfortable. Dan Heng frowns.

“Don’t worry about that.” You assure him, voice shaking. “We can clean up in a little bit.”

“Isn’t it uncomfortable?”

“Maybe,” you hum, unsure. “I don’t mind it, regardless.”

Dan Heng raises himself up off of you, and braces his hands on your inner thighs. He’s warmed with the combined heat of the Archives, his nest, and you. You’re chilled under him and— Dan Heng. Can’t have that. He can’t totally trace why, he pulls a blanket up and over your bodies.

You let him arrange you as he sees fit. He brings you to his chest, and fits your head under his chin. He tangles your legs, indulges in the contact and tries to transfer some of his volcanic heat into you. You look content as he does, nuzzling into his throat.

Your own eyelids droop.

“Are you going to sleep?” He asks.

“... Probably not.” You say with a yawn.

“You look tired.”

“I am,” You nod and push closer. “But, I don’t need to, and it’s hard to get myself to sleep. It’s more trouble than it's worth, trying to sleep.”

Dan Heng doesn’t think before speaking. “Has it always been hard?”

You pause, breathing even and slowly, “Not always.”

“Why did it get harder?”

You choose your words carefully then, despite your evident exhaustion. Your brow droops, and you rub at Dan Heng’s sides. Your thumbs skitter over his ribs.

“How much do you know about the Kin of Sacha, Dan Heng?” You ask. “It provides context. I’d hate to bore you.”

“... Very little. The databanks only has limited information.”

“Oh, you looked for me?” You nip at his jaw, playful, even as Dan Heng prepares a nervous rebuttal. You soothe his distress before it can get anywhere. “I’m kidding— and it makes sense there’s not much about us out there. There aren’t that many of us to begin with.”

“... How many?”

“I’m not sure, truthfully. Probably less than a thousand. Maybe half of that. Unless Sacha has... awoken to bless more. But I doubt that.”

You rarely mention the Aeon who provided you your sleeplessness and dream-seeing. You even more seldom mention anyone you knew prior to your time on the express.

You sign, “Typically, the Kin of Sacha work as mystics or laborers. Some societies we encountered saw the Aeon’s gifts as a psychic boon to be cultivated. Others, like the one I was raised in, saw the Kin as a well of infinite, tireless labor. You learn quickly under those expectations that even if you could sleep, it’s more ideal not to.”

Conditioning, then.

Dan Heng thinks back to when he first saw you at that rest stop. How you’d swayed on your two feet, eyes glassy and far away. How long they took to focus. How the embroidered logo on your breast must’ve belonged to whatever company you’d been under the employ of. Pieces fit together, and Dan Heng feels slightly sick.

“You don’t— need to be like that, now. You should sleep.”

With your hands braced on his chest, you lean back to look at him. Your gaze is soft, unguarded. You look almost plush with it.

“... I guess I should.”

(I guess I could.)

That’s all it takes, really. You nearly collapse back into the nest, and Dan Heng settled himself to be curled around you. If— If he still deigned to manifest his Vidyadharan tail, perhaps it would be curled around you both.

But, Dan Heng does not manifest any tail. You do not need to stay awake. You both rest under the filtered, soft light of the Archives, and that is all you must do.

#lore writes #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #hsr x reader #SOUP!! COOKED!!#the format of this story was so fun to write hehe #enjoy loves <3

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henneseyhoe · 7 months

Text

BEDROOM BULLY (a sequel)

Chiron x BLACK!FEM!Reader.

——>(Pt1)<——

WARNINGS:no protection(wrap it df up), dirty talk, rough seggsss, daddy kink, reader is kinda delusional, shortttt y’all know the deal, it’s nasty! just read it!

SUMMARY: Chiron took the reader back to his place after their car meet session and he shows her that his grillz ain’t the only thing that can shine!

Ps. I wanted to do this before the spooky shit lmao. Hope y’all enjoy.<3

✮✮✮✮

Legs shaking, toes curling, eyes rolling. You had reached an all time high with your friends slut-meter. You facetimed them right after getting ate like thanksgiving dinner, geeking in this man’s passenger seat like the man in question wasnt a few feet away and the bottom of your ass wasn’t soaking wet, your thighs sticking together like honey on skin.

“Was it good?”

“You really let him do that?!”

“How many times you came?”

All comments they blurted out to you after getting the deets, and you answered all questions in complete honesty.

“You so lucky! His friend babymama started calling when I pulled down my pants”

One of your friends complained, making you cackle. covering your mouth so he couldn’t hear you laughing like a hyena while looking through his trunk for something to wipe your legs off with, you heard many more questions from the curious girls.

“Did you see how big he was though? Or y’all ain’t get that far?”

“You gon let him fuck?”

“Let him fuck? Of course she is! If I was her I would have been on the dick, fuck getting a towel and callin’ you hoes!” one of your friends answered for you.

“It would take 100 surgeons to remove me from that dick”

“Ouuu, I saw how he looked at you too. I just know that dick heavy”

And your friend was indeed right. It was.

✮✮✮✮

“DAMN, BABY-“ you shook and cried out as you allowed him to break you in, knocking that pussy straight out the damn frame. He had your legs crisscrossed and pushed down towards your chest, his hands gripping tightly on both of your ankles to pin you down, as if you could go anywhere with how bad your legs were shaking, even with him holding them down. His hips smacked into you so hard that your ass and the back of your thighs was turning red, mimicking your tear irritated eyes. “I CANT! Please! slow down!” You shout as your sensitive pussy convulsed, but he gave no mercy. “Don’t cry now, take this dick like a big girl” he teases, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix with every thrust forward, it had you drooling. Dick drunk for however long he was gonna put it in your spine. It wouldn’t even matter how tired you were gonna be in the morning, you were thinkin’ of getting up, and making this nigga some breakfast for this good dick.

Nothing in the room could distract you from how he was making you feel, and when your eyes weren’t rolled to the back of your head, they were gawking at the flashing gold chain around his neck, the color matching the grillz in his mouth. The piece swung back and forth in your face as he fucked you, the moonlight from the broad window next to the bed making the cross pendant twinkle like stars in the same night sky that rested above.

“You like that shit, huh? You like how daddy makin’ you take that dick, don’t even front” He curses.

“Yes! It’s so fu-uckin’ deep” You struggled and whined again, your jaw starting to hurt from you biting down your teeth for so long. You saw why girls go so crazy for they man, alongside with the stars that were blurring your vision currently. He had already noticed the attraction you had for his jewelry, and it made him chuckle, a low groan following right after. “You like my chain too?”

You nod, answering. “Yes, daddy!”

“Aight. Be a good lil’ bitch for me and I’ll let you wear it. Now, cum on this dick”

The curve of his dick touched the end of your pussy, his hips connecting with yours completely as he begins to grind himself. Both of you were recently waxed and shaved so the skin to skin contact sent you overboard. Yes, he was shaved nicely. Yes, he was a real slut.

His pelvic rubbed against your clit as he slow wined his hips, letting you feel all 9inches of that big dick in your guts. Your legs had gone numb and stopped shaking, but that didn’t stop you from showing him his new favorite water toy. You wet up his plum colored sheets with a wail, making even darker stains as your cream and slick dripped out of you, some on your thighs, some on your ass, but most on his sheets and that hammer he called a dick.

“Mhm, let it out”

“You feelin’ that shit, ma”

“This dick got you goin’ dumb like that? Close ya mouth”

“You takin’ this dick like a champ too, I might keep you”

He talked shit like no other cause he knew he was fuckin’ you like he wanted to put a ring on it. He couldn’t say he didn’t imagine it for a split second in that one moment where he had you halfway off of the bed, drool dripping from your mouth and down your throat with his hands tangled in your bundles as he dipped his dick in and out of your mouth, your cheeks hollowed until your jaw ached and his abs tightened, indicating that he was about to bust, wasting all that nut that could have been inside you.

He stops grinding into you and unbends your legs, letting the blood flow finally get to where it needed to go. Honestly, you were already fucked out, but you didn’t wanna tell him that and have him thinking you were lying about taking dick. But maybe you should have, cause when he turned you over to your side and laid behind you, you knew it was over. He didn’t even care to ask you politely to widen your legs. he pulled that ass back, hiked your leg up on his and slipped himself right back into those walls that were forever molded to the shape of his dick.

“Uh-huh. Let me get in that pussy, baby”

“You stretchin’ me, daddy!”

You both moan simultaneously, your pussy gripping him like she wanted him to stay deep inside forever. This position had your stomach twisting and turning like a whirlpool washing machine, your clit jumping at his fingertips touch as he slips his arm under your propped up leg and starts rubbing at your swollen button while his hips work on getting his dick to massage the deepest part inside of you. It was gonna be a long week, maybe even month, cause you wasn’t gonna leave him alone.

✮✮✮✮

PSS. Me watching y’all eat pt1 up cause I did NOT expect that to blow up 💀 Thank y’all for the love tho 🤭🩷🩷

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canvasbaby · 1 year

Text

stuck!- one piece x reader nsfw

yknow the stuck in a box together trope? yeah that + ,y hc on their fave position

Monster trio + law x reader

Luffy- 69

- He still, to this day, insists it was an accident

- he was just so hungry! and that pasta smelled so good!

- unfortunately, however, it happened to be a trap by a rival pirate group, so now you two were stuck...

he led you by the arm through a back alley

“C’mon Y/n! i can smell it!”

“Luffy, this is oddly suspi-” you cut yourself off with a scream as you and your boyfriend fell through the ground into a box, that was quickly shut. You could hear some guys laughing, and walking away,,, great

“Luffy! Hurry and get us outta here!” you whined

“hnnnmmm cant.. so.. weak” of course, they made the box out of sea-prism stone. at least, thats what you thought, but really, luffy just wanted to stay here a bit longer. him, on his back with his feet up, your ass hovering over his chest, facing his legs.

You gasp as he suddenly grasps your hips and licks your shorts

“L-LUFFY!!” god, he really was impatient. He always took you wherever, whenever he was in the mood, and it just so happens that right now hw was.

“mm y/n.. lets just stay a while...”

Your crew was wondering why it took you two so long to get back to the meeting point.

Zoro- doggy style

-You two were facing a DF user, and usually Zoro would have him beat in no time

-but he was distracted... totally NOT by how good your ass looks in that skirt...short very short skirt-

It was hard to see, and you felt as though you were suffocating

it all happened so suddenly! One minute you’re walking through the woods with Zoro, trying to find your way back to the ship, then boom! in a box.

“Zoro, could you move a bit? i cant see” you were met with silence, then you felt it, suddenly you are very aware of your position. you’re face down ass up, him leaned over you, dick yo ass (his fave)- you can feel his dick hardening as he tries to not so inconspicuously move against you

“Zoro! seriously hun, i wanna get outta here!” you were starting to get a little too hot

“c’mon babe..” god you love his gruff voice in your ear, whispering- “lets just have a little fun~”

You did, in fact, have fun

Sanji- missionary (i would say oral, but i didn’t want it to be too similar to luffys, and hes a classic romantic guy)

- you two were alone on the ship, the crew should’nt be back for another hour or so, and Franky trusted you two enough for this task

- but that damn unstable flooring- Franky was out now getting supplies to fix the hole luffy someone put in the floor- but you’d totally forgot it was there

“hey Sanji, love, could yOUU OH SHIT-”

“Y/N” he tried to catch you, but was too late with his footing, and fell in on top of you

“Sanji get up, i need to do the laundry..” you could tell he wasn’t listening. you doubted he was alive right now, face buried in your neck, dick hardening against your clothed pussy- oh god he couldn’t stop thinking about it now-

“Ma Belle.. you look so beautiful like this..” he lifts his head out of your neck, hands going straight to your boobs

“S-Sanji! we can do that in bed! just get us o-” your cut off by you two moaning in unison as he grinds against you

“Mon amour, allow me to indulge myself..” oh, he did.

Law- cowgirl

-Similar to Luffy, you were trapped by a pirate gang, who put you two in an actual sea-prism box and left you for dead

- now in the middle of the woods in a box, you’re stuck with your now pissed off captain

You go to push up on the box, causing you to push down on him- he’s laying down with his lanky knees uncomfortably bent, and you’re sitting on his lap, though there’s not much room, so your tits are practically smothering him

“Y/N..” he groans, grabbing your hips to rut up into you

“Captain! W-we need to get out of here” but really, who were you to deny him? you’re already going in for a kiss, moaning in his mouth as he move his hand under your skirt to toy with your clothed clit, sucking on your tongue.

wow, he’s pulling out all the stops. he must be real horny

“Law! NO! we need to get out of here and beat up those guys!” you pull back from him suddenly. leaving him pouting, but he sits up as much as he can to assess the situation.

after some struggling, your crew comes with the key and frees you two (thank god, you almost gave in)

but judging by what he was whispering to you in that box, you’re in for it tonight.

#one piece smut #one piece #trafalgar law #mugiwara no luffy #ronoroa zoro #black leg sanji #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #law x reader #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader

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matchadobo · 4 months

Note

Hello! Is it possible to request Kid X Reader where the Reader is a virgin and Kid is loving and soft with her? I love soft Kid and how you write Kid in general. Thank you!

KIDD; soft and loving kidd

warning/s: nsfw under the cut, afab reader, has sfw (a bit suggestive bUT ONLY A BIT REALLY LIKE 2%) and nsfw hcs, might melt your heart, the red fonts indicate that it is under the previous bullet

SFW

kidd was your first kiss, first love, and first partner

ahh first kiss with kidd, it would be comical. let's just say, kidd would have had ENOUGH of your cuteness and he'd just march in your room while you were doing your hobbies. he would be so fucking red. you asked him if he was drunk and he said yes.

"i'm fucking obsessed with you." he'd say before going on a rant on how pretty your eyes are, how your touch feels like an absolute wildfire, how your smile is too contagious he loses his cool, how your voice is too pleasant to his ears you could talk about total fucking nonsense and he'd still swoon, and how you always look at him with the same love in your eyes

you were so fucking shocked you started crying

he'd just stand there, like a lamp post, while waiting for you to catch your breath and pick up your jaw

"c-can i kiss you? i'll kiss you." kidd waltzed towards you, bending down to your height, lifting your chin and colliding his lips with yours

his lips was soft and tasted sweet, must be lipstick. the rum made it bitter

once he feels you melt into the kiss, he'd smile through it before angling his face on the other side to kiss you better. he figured you didn't know how to kiss 😖

"you go like this, name." he angled his face one more to the other side, puckering up his lips before sucking on your lower lip. "don't freeze like goddamn ice, okay?" he snorted. "move your lips. kiss me. suck it. follow my rhythm." with each phrase, his actions mimicked his words. you were on fucking fire.

it was a pretty long kiss. you soon got the hang of it. once you two pulled away to catch your breath, kidd's heart almost exploded when he saw how swollen your lips are and how flushed your cheeks were. what a fucking darling you are

it would be absurd to think that someone like you would end up with someone like him. a thorn like him with a rose like you

he'd always have a scowl in his face but when he sees you, it loosens up a bit. he turns into a blushing mess at the littles things you do

since he was your first relationship, you were really navigating the boundaries and hows of it. it also took a lot of patience since, well, it was kidd

he wasn't used to having you follow him around all day but he loves it

you weren't used to having him behind you, arms by your side as he caged you. when he feels you up, humming in your ear, and his cologne drives you nuts

he wasn't used to your habits to sit on his lap without warning

you weren't used to have his arm protectively around you at all times

he wasn't used to your kisses on his face, he started getting conscious if he smells good or if his face was clean

you weren't used to having this big bear that clung onto you, keeping your bed warm

he wasn't used to waking up next to you, seeing you with your guard completely down around him

you weren't used to seeing kidd all vulnerable and wasn't scowling, instead letting you witness what he was under all that cold exterior that you warmed up

he wasn't used to feeling all this fuzzy and warm on the inside even if you weren't even here, he constantly yearns for you

you weren't used to dealing with kidd in his snotty attitude, it took a lot to be understanding but kidd also did his best when he saw you struggling. that was a challenge for him too

"come here, bug. gimme a hug."

"got you a new dress, come on i wanna see you wear it."

"you want it? i'll steal it for ya." then he proceeds to use his df to the stores to leave no trace

when kidd was courting you, yes he learned how to court 🥺, he will always bring you tiny flower trinkets. on special days he'd have really intricate jewelery that had flowers or butterflies. he'd earnestly find you and give it to you, insisting that you receive it personally 😖

when you were on your period, he'd tiptoe in taking care of you 🥺. he'd be met by your snappy attitude to which he would usually fight back but would later surrender for your well-being. man, a flower like you taught kidd to surrender 🥰. he'd have chocolate and sweets. if your cramps are really bad, he'll help you fall asleep to numb it away

"here, have some chocolates. snappin' at me would get you nowhere."

"as if i'd be goin' anywhere when you're sleepin'. you're clunging onto me like crazy."

"bought you pads and tampons, quit fuckin' whinin' and just hug me."

when cuddling, he always reaches under your shirt to rub your stomach. his cold hands felt good in your warm tummy. soon enough he'd be reaching over your mounds or somewhere down there 👀

when he kisses you he always wants to have a long, deep kiss before pulling away. he'd wanna have a goodbye forehead kiss when you two part ways and went on back to what you were both doing individually

kidd would LOVE and NEED to spoil you. making you trinkets, buying you stuff, and doing things with you even if he puts on a facade that he doesn't wanna be there. he just loves seeing the joy in your face!

NSFW

oh boy is he starving for you

but he'd patiently wait until you're ready

and when you are, this animal would be unforgiving

he'd go hard on the foreplay, playing with your tits under your shirt as he thrives on the little moans and whimpers you make. he'd overstimulate you so much you'd be too tired for the actual deed

but don't get me wrong he won't be rough, he'll just be doing A LOT of stimulation

he'd kiss you a lot during your first time, periodically checking if you're feeling okay. it'll be sloppy kisses tho, always have saliva trailing down your skin with lip marks

"sure you can handle it, flower?" a mix of genuine concern and teasing

it'd be missionary. as much as he REVERES reverse cowgirl so he has a full view of that cake, he'd want your first to be special. he'd want your first to be completely skin on skin with him, maintaining eye contact as he slides it in, kissing while moving, and holding hands so you'd have something to squeeze onto. he'd press foreheads with you, easing your knitted brows as you try and take him all in, clenching along the way

as aforementioned, he wouldn't have much trouble in sliding himself in despite his size because of the amount of foreplay he did on you

"aren't you a pretty fuckin' sight like this, aye?"

"so well, so fuckin' good, my love."

"you're close? enjoyed yourself too much, aye?"

he'd stay forehead-to-forehead with you, exchanging breaths as you both released in each other. he'd mumble a low "fuck," as you did a last clench around him with your release when you were desperately clawing at his neck and back with the ecstacy. "went a little wild there, princess." he'd kiss your cheek, tucking the hair sticking on your face behind your ear. he'll gently throw you over his shoulder, so as to not hurt your cunt by stretching it more on a bridal carry, and bring you to the bath to wash up with you

helllooo thank you for requesting 🌷 this was soooo fun to make i really miss my boy 😍 thank you for the support anon 🥺

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dollface-yandere · 1 year

Text

"piss off your parents."

yandere! narciso anasui x reader

warning; yandere themes/possessiveness, manipulating, implied murder/death (not of the reader), obsessive love, gender neutral reader lolll, but probably ooc

prompt ; anasui urges you to run away with him after a fight with your parents.

note; my tumblr started glitching out really badly halfway through this. i apologize for any problems within the story!

it was midnight, and your parents were both asleep. three hours before now, you found yourself slapped across the face by your mother and your father's disapproving glare piercing you like a bullet.

both of them met anasui. they didn't like him when you described your newly boyfriend to them months ago, and you thought that if they just met, maybe their views would change, and they'd see he wasn't as possessive or crazy as they said. loud voices echoed in the dining room. anasui and your parents didn't get along at all; his opinions were much different his. they disagreed with every single one of his views, and he disagreed with theirs. the dinner table shook while anasui slammed his hands on the table and walked out of the door, and you chased after him, ignoring your parent's protesting. the same hands were wrapped around your wrists and pulling you closer to him.

"my dear, you can't live like this! you don't realize how terrible your parents are." anasui's words stung you. it hurt to hear him badmouth your parents to your face. you truly loved your parents, but you just didn't understand what was so bad about anasui. his hands stroked your hair, and your tears wet his shoulder through his clothes.

between crying and gasps for air, you managed to speak, "i can't! i love them!" anasui's chin rested on your head, and you could feel him nod in response to your words. "i understand, fully, i promise you, but can't you see? they don't you to be happy." it made sense, but at the same time, it didn't. your parents truly were trying to protect you. every time the listened to you rant about how much you loved your pink-haired boyfriend, their faces turned angry and scolded you, yelling at you to listen to yourself. they called him creepy and possessive, but you knew who you dated. you knew him better than they did, and they just didn't see how happy you were with him.

anasui almost roughly grabbed your shoulders, and pushed you in front of him. "don't you love me, too? i want to be with you, so bad. your essence is the reason i wish to live. i need you badly, more than i need air. i may as well belong to you, and you only you. i don't care how much your parents hate me, i'd rather be the enemy of the world, than live without you."

faux tears pooled in the corner of his eyes. anasui pulled you closer, and bent over to kiss your lips like it was the last thing he'd ever do. the genuine tears on your cheek seemed to mix with his own. you stopped kissing him, pulling away from him. before you could speak.

"are you satisfied with your parents not wanting you to be happy?" anasui's eyes felt piercing, like freshly sharpened knifes. the thought of your parents not wanting you to be happy was absolutely discontering. anasui was the perfect boyfriend. every night you spent together, he promised he'd do anything just to be with you.

you fidgeted anxiously with trembling hands underneath his cold glare. now, the thought of being without from anasui wouldn't cross your mind. of course, it wouldn't never cross his mind, either. "why don't you run away from them? i'll always love you, more than your parents could ever dream of!"

he reached for your hands again, but you swatted them away and turned. how to choose? it was either be with anasui, or be with your parents. "i can't make them upset! it'll piss them off.." it wasn't a lie. they'd probably disown you if you chose to be with anasui.

"my love, piss off your parents, then. it won't make them understand how in love i am, and i can't imagine a world without you."

there you stood in your bedroom, quietly sobbing on your bed. anasui rubbed your shoulder to comfort you while he tossed random items around your room into the half-packed suitcase next to you. only some of the clothes that you really liked were packed inside. anasui told you not to bother with packing all of your clothing; he claimed he would buy his love any piece they wanted. it was 1AM now. both of your parents were asleep while you and your boyfriend snuck out of the house. he carried your bags while you followed behind him. it was weird that he knew to avoid every floorboard that creaked, when you only snuck him in through your bedroom window.

the thought that your parents may have been right about anasui would only cross your mind a few days later while you sat on on the chairs reading some book when he left to run an errand at such a late hour.

"'sui.. it's 11PM. why'd you decide to go to the store now?" your words were met with a low, yet, seemingly cheerful, bit of laughter when anasui's words followed, "i forgot to get the stuff for breakfast for tomorrow morning when i went the other day. is there anything in particular you'd like while i'm there?" anasui smiled while you looked up at him. he ignored your requests to come with him, saying that he wanted to surprise you with the breakfast. which, was unusual. he usually just made your favorite.

fifteen minutes later, you found yourself staring into your phone screen. your notifications were almost all missed calls from both your mother and father. waves of guilt crashed over you. it was painful to see they tried to contact you multiple times. anasui insisted you don't leave a goodbye note, saying that cutting off people meant no goodbyes. they couldn't call the cops since you were grown enough to live on your own. your index finger hovered over the call button on your mom's contact; hesitantly, you began to press the little blue phone icon under the contact "Mom".

"i'm back!" anasui's loud but unusually tranquil voice seemed to echo through the doorway. your finger was fast to click the side button on the phone, and the screen went dark as he walked through, two bags in one hand while he rushed to put the other on your shoulder.

looking back up at him with a smile on your face, you moved up a little to meet his lips. the phone was flat facing down on your thigh, as to not draw suspicion from anasui. sure, it seemed weird, but if he'd be upset if he found out you were trying to communicate with your mother.

"let's go to bed, my love."

anasui's grasp around your waist was firm, but you managed to slip from his touch. the bathroom floor was cold under your bare feet, and the air conditioning wasn't helpful, either. cold air blew onto the uncovered skin on your back, while your fingers shakily went back into your contacts to click on your mom. the picture of the three of you in the contact photo was saddening. you missed your father and mother more than anything.

but.. no. anasui said it was normal to miss people after cutting them off. he always encouraged you not to check in with them after you left. but anasui wasn't here right now. you hesitantly lowered your finger and pressed the 'call' button.

it was weird, though, because there was a ringing coming from the bedroom. inevitably, you could hear creaking and the muffled sound of your mother's ringtone, followed by footsteps approaching the bathroom. panicking, you reached your arm to turn the lock on the bathroom door.

even though you knew anasui was outside the door, he didn't speak a single word. loud knocks could be heard from your side of the door. knocks turned into twisting the doorknob, but he could only find that it was locked. a long sigh was heard on the other side. you went to touch the doorknob, but something felt wrong with it.

15 seconds later, pieces of the doorknob flew to the side while you scrambled into the corner of the bathroom, sitting with your knees to your chest with your arms shielding your face from him. the door was pushed open, and your boyfriend stepped into the room. his hair was messy, and pink strands flew in front of his face.

"sorry, my love.. i didn't mean to scare you like that." anasui's hand found it's way to your face, caressing your cheek while he crouched down to your level. his other arm wrapped around you tightly. "now, why were you trying to call your mother?"

anasui squeezed your shoulders while you sputtered out a series of incoherent bursts, of only apologies for doing this. a frown spread across your boyfriend's face, and he sighed. usually when anasui was mad, the atmosphere was tense and his voice would be loud and booming. but now, your mind raced while everything else felt slow. your boyfriend's voice was calm. anasui stood from his spot on the floor, and bent down to pick you up. he wasn't ever this rough while he carried you.

"let's just go to bed."

note ; this is probably ooc i'm really sorry 😭 please forgive me, my next writing won't be so rushed!!

#df y fic #yandere anasui #narciso anasui x reader #anasui x reader #jojo yandere #part 6 jojo #jjba x reader #stone ocean anasui #narciso anasui #anasui narciso #non-jail au #dollface-yandere

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harley-sunday · 1 year

Note

I’m just coming here to scream about how much I love your fic “Things We Lost in the Fire” …

OMG ITS SO F*CKING AMAZING.

It’s still one of my favorites. It’s how I discovered this blog and ultimately you as a friend and…

I NEED YOUR FOLLOWERS TO KNOW HOW BRILLIANT IT IS.

This story is PERFECTION. I’ve never seen it done in any other piece of work I’ve read. And it’s PURE GENIUS. A masterpiece really.

Did I read it again tonight? Yes.

Am I over it? Still no.

xoxo

I support this message, babe 😊

It's definitely still one of my favourites too and I am SO happy it's what made us become friends 🥰

And now for some shameless self promotion for those of you who haven't read it yet and like a Sebastian Stan x reader AU... Read it here. And then let me know if it lived up to my bestie's hype 😘

🧡

#Harley answers asks #DF anon #Sebastian Stan x reader #Sebastian Stan fic

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420ruffy · 8 months

Text

⟡ luffy x tongue sucking (taller gn reader)

“give me your tongue.” you nodded towards his mouth so he’d open it and stick out his tongue. you grabbed it, making it longer and it stayed at the size you thought was best for what you had planned. “i wanna suck on it like i suck on your dick” you gulp looking at it with lust. “okay” luffy shrugs.

( a/n : idek if luffys df powers allow him to stretch his limbs and let them stay like that or if he can just stretch them once before they go back like he does with his arms and legs all the time. but whatever. let’s pretend they do for this fic. )

you climbed on top of him and started executing your fantasy and luffy quickly realized how much he liked it. it’s like making out and sucking on each others tongues but way more intense. the feeling of your sucking went straight to his cock. his eyes are rolling back and he’s moaning inside your mouth as you’re sucking on his tongue.

he can’t stop huffing and puffing from how hot and aroused you’re making him. his dick is throbbing in his pants to the rhythm of your sucking and he can’t help but start palming it through his shorts. “hhrrnnghh” he squeezes his eyes shut as your sucking became harder, more intense. it felt like you were gonna suck his tongue off and his dick felt good with every one of your sucks.

even though you weren’t touching his dick at all it felt like he was about to cum from how good his mouth was feeling. his moans already gave that away bc he’s whining in rhythm with your head bobbing.

the scene in front of you was so hot, you also felt like cumming. luffy was rutting up into you as his moans became messy and needy and a lot more high pitched. he was close. he didn’t even need that much friction, the tongue sucking was enough to make him cum handsfree.

“ah, ah, please.. hrghnn, ah, more..” he he cried and shrieked. you pulled his pants down and freed his dick from his boxers so you could wrap your hand around his cockhead, trying to milk him with the help of his precum. your hands took on the same pace as your sucking on his tongue and luffy “coming- argh hrhghhhnnffgm, ah,ah, yes hmmphhhh” his moans were so animalistic and high pitched, you just love the sounds he makes. they arouse you incredibly, which is why luffy is so shameless and let’s them out as he pleases. not that he wouldn’t do that anyway even if you didn’t like it.

you stopped sucking him and removed your hand from his dick, licking up his cum from your hand and then licking it up from his stomach letting him catch his breath. “you need to do this more often please” he said smiling.

…

#. op works #. luffy #. luffy smut #I NEED TO MAKE OUT WITH HIM ASAP #no seriously the desire of having his tongue in my mouth is getting unbearable #luffy headcanons #luffy smut #luffy x reader #luffy x male reader #luffy x gn!reader #luffy x female reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy #monkey d. luffy smut

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sanjisblackasswife · 1 year

Note

So.... Hello! I'm not Very good at english since it's not my language but here we Go. I wanna to say i really love your art (from fanarts to your write style) and i Hope you have a good day today. Anyway i don't know If your ask are ope but How the Monsters trio Will react with they being your First in everthing! (Like First Kiss, First love, First s*x, etc) you can do nsfw-ish If you wanted

aww thank u!:) I am not going to go into grave detail because I am already doing a “First time” series with them but i like this request💓imma do it moreso where you’re THEIRS if thats alright

Being the Monster Trio’s First (NSFW-ish)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Mentions of sex

I am half sleep and typing this all in one go so mb for my spelling errors im just making up for lost time not posting consistently because school and coms☹️

Being Luffy’s First:

Crush: Being his crush is no different from being his best friend, he isn’t a very romantic guy if he likes you he will just tell you, “Y/N I think about you a lot, and I also think you may have a Lust DF power because when I think of you i get hard.” Bless him he is very blunt. BUT he does mean what he says so..be nice?

Kiss: Probably the most anticlimactic thing ever. Luffy already licks your face, hugs, and touches you a lot so when he starts running at you after a fight to see if you’re okay BAM. His lips smack into yours like a bowling ball and honestly. It’s cute. Completely uncoordinated, damn near sucked your bottom lip off, but…there was just something so addictive and attractive to his kiss that made you want more

Love: Very odd in his case. He just thought he liked you a lot. The signs were evident though, when you tell him he doesn’t deny it persay he moreso brushes it off because being in love is so new to him. However being his first love is something you can’t forget. He reminds you everyday why you’re important. Why he loves you. And why he fell in love with you.

Sexual Encounter: It was fun! You both were inexperienced. He didn’t know what hole to enter, you were shocked by how long he can stretch his dick. You both even spent the night laughing more than actually having sex, but once it came down to business it was a learning experience for you both. He was so attentive to make sure you were okay you felt yourself crying a little afterwards at how gentle he was with you.

Being Zoro’s First:

crush: He’s actually more of an asshole to you Not even on purpose he just doesn’t want to admit his feelings towards you. You’re beautiful, sweet, and charming and dammit he hates that he has feelings and how you always mess them up when you’re around him! He feels so powerless so please be gentle with him…or put him on blast. It maybe attractive to the mf.

Kiss: Awkward, awkward, awkward. He isn’t the rizzmaster okay. Yes he is pretty and he knows it but he is crap to flirting. absolutely crap. He was so hot in the face when you did the first move and kissed him he was a stuttering mess and pulled you back in for another kiss to prevent you from laughing at him. His kisses wasn’t BAD but …just practice with him. Yeah it was awkward but seeing your face so close and personal, smelling your scent. He couldn’t get enough.

Love: DENIAL IS A RIVER IN EGYPT Absolutely ridiculous how in denial he was. Everytime someone even said the word love he’d get so mad because that word applied to you in so many ways. He fell for you and he couldn’t do anything about it. You were the one opponent he could not beat and honestly, he didn’t want to. He fell for you and he fell so hard that it actually makes him nervous to be around you. He doesn’t know whether he loves you or hates you now for being so irresistible to him. Eventually he comes to terms with it and once it does and you feel the same way. Good luck getting rid of him.

Sexual Encounter: You taught him everything. He didn’t know his way from the clit to your ass. It took a lot of trial and error, sex wasn’t really NEW to him. He has seen porn but it’s completely different from films and pictures so sometimes he would back down when making out got too far, eventually he needed that release one late night while cuddling you and even though he could have went to the bathroom you stopped him and …helped him out. Let’s just say Zoro is so grateful he didn’t pussy out this go round!

Being Sanji’s First:

Crush: Sanji is an interesting guy because any woman that knows Sanji knows he is a mixture of a flirt and just having amazing manners for women. You however was just above the usual women he served to. Being his crush was an experience because you seen a side to Sanji most women don’t get to see. You seen him stand up straighter, sly comments that made your heart melt, and even kept his cool…too cool in fact. He really was Mr. Prince for you.

Kiss: The first kiss he planned it out. He knew his feelings about you and that you felt the same so he needed to plan it just right not just for him, but for you as well. The kiss was so soft and delicate you almost didn’t feel it. And that was because he shy’ed away for a moment, scared his sudden bold move would have you smack him, Luckily, he didn’t have to worry feeling your hands cup his cheek to kiss him back. He still touches his lips when he thinks about that time you kissed him.

Love: I mean man…you really are a blessed woman because out of all of the others he has seen and been with he chose you and only you. it’s insane really. He tries in his entire will to not mess this opportunity to find true love up. You being his first love he watches his mouth and actions around you more, He tries his hardest not to ruin the view you have of him and it shows. If you can just reassure him you love him for him and not who he thinks he needs to be. Sanji needs the confirmation that you love him almost as much as he loves you.

Sexual Encounter: LORD—- okay. okay. Just like Zoro trial and error HOWEVER. Much longer and worse. He really is still a pervert no matter how much in love he is with you so you have to take it very slow. Once you both are okay to be naked in front of each other he is back to being a shy boy so you constantly kiss and praise him, telling him how good he is for you, how well he is doing for his first time. You were so kind and patient with him, it never fails to leave a chill down his spine (in a good way) when he remembers that night of love making with you, and now that he has more experience he does nothing but reciprocate the same feelings back to you in bed.

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erii-ya · 3 months

Text

Punishing Female Trafalgar Law

LAW X FEM READER

A Valentine’s Special One Piece FanFic

CW: **NSFW, smut, bounded, finger-fudging, swear words, dominant reader, submissive Law, spoilers, not proofread**

WC: 1.7k

Dedicated to Anonymous (This may not be to your liking, but I thought of dedicating this story for you still. But I’ll make another one more decent. 😅)

🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

“Y/N-ya… ngghh… s-stop this…” Law huffed. Feverishly squirming under his restraints while you take your time thrusting two fingers inside his wet sex. Choking back a sob, not wanting to accept the fact that you are in control this time and not him.

An unexpected opportunity arises, much to your luck. After getting hit by one of Blackbeard’s men’s devil fruit, Trafalgar Law was turned into a woman. The lasting effect of the DF power is unknown, so you took the opportunity before you missed the chance.

Restrained in your bed by seastone cuffs is your captain and partner, Trafalgar Law, in his female form, as you like to call it. Why you have a seastone cuff is thanks to you being a weird collector of unusual things.

You gave her a maniacal grin, “Aww, the princess wants me to stop?” you teased. Curling up your fingers inside him, hitting that perfect spot you know so well will make him see stars - or hearts.

Law writhed in pure bliss. He didn’t expect this to be too…good. Now he knows just what you feel whenever he does this to you. “Yes…nghh-no… ahh fuuuck.” and for the nth time, he squirted.

Making a mess on your shared bed and on you, but you didn’t care. As if it’s not enough torture for Law, you played with his clit while he's at it, the same as what he does to you. Overstimulating him while he moans and spasms uncontrollably under you.

The way he looks right now, sweat forming on his forehead, the uneven pump of his chest, and his half-lidded eyes full of undeniable desire and excitement, made you even more eager to mess him up. You want him to experience the same things he’d done to you, how he played and bullied you down there.

Law was gasping for air, looking at you. He wants to say something, but his thoughts are still in disarray after another display of performance. Without missing a beat and to build up his arousal, you shamelessly suck up your fingers that were covered with his essence, licking it clean. You saw how his eyes widened and gulped down in anticipation.

You hover over him, giving him a sloppy kiss to which he hungrily returns. “Can you taste yourself? You tasted so sweet, love. Just how I like it.” you told him in between kisses. Law only moaned in agreement.

“Good girl…so obedient for me.” you cooed. You act precisely as how he is when he fucks you dumb, and you, in fact, are enjoying it. The feeling of being dominant over him for the first time in the course of your sex life was so satisfying it’ll be etched in your memories forever.

Breaking the kiss, you slowly descend to suck on his melons, going down to his sex, leaving a trail of bite marks and hickeys on his body. “Wh-what are you-ooohhh shit…” he hadn’t got time to finish his words when you started to ‘eat’ him out.

You had never done this before, so you mentally followed how you remembered him doing it with you. Licking his folds while playing with his clit, seems to give him the same amount of pleasure as you experienced since he started to convulse again and was trying hard to squeeze his thighs shut. But he can’t because his legs are splayed out in restraints for you.

“You truly do too much work for me whenever you do this, don’t you?” you stopped for a bit, making him whine in dismay. “Oops, sorry. Were you enjoying it? Just want to appreciate you for a minute.”

“Y/N-ya… stop… t-teasing… m-me…” said Law, heavily breathing, lust covering his strained voice. “I-I want… to cu–ngghhh” moaning louder when you thrust your digits inside him again.

“You’re saying something, hon?” you asked, mischievously toying with him while you continuously pounded your fingers painfully slow inside him. You can feel him clench your digits in their every thrust, desperately clinging onto them for immediate relief until you see him starting to buckle up his hips, attempting to chase his climax.

Then you stop. Removing your fingers inside him.

Law glared at you due to your sudden halt. He was almost there, reaching his needed peak, but you mercilessly stopped and left him hanging on nothing. “W-wait.. Why’d you- why’d you stop?” he groaned.

Eyes lustful, you stared back at him; licking your lips, you asked, “Was it good?”

“Yes… yes, babe, so please… let me cum.” he begged.

HE. BEGGED.

The surgeon of death BEGGED.

It boosted your ego so much that you can’t stop thinking how you’ll prolong this game with him. He’s not the only one on edge for a while now. You can feel your own wetness dripping down your legs. If only you could be turned into a guy right now, you’ll definitely fuck the lights out of him.

You walk over to his side, tracing your fingers on his sensitive skin. Sitting down, you gently wiped away his drool and tucked the strands of loose hair covering his sweat-covered face behind his ears. Slowly laying down beside him, giving feathery kisses on his cheeks, your arm snaked behind him so you could fiddle on his hardened nips, pinching them from time to time while the other hand reached down on his sex, your middle and ring finger alternating between circling his clit and lunging inside.

Law felt the familiar knots on his stomach again, heat building up along with it. “Babe…” he said breathily. “Please… let me cum…” pleading for an immediate release.

You stopped what you were doing and shushed him. Cupping his face with one hand, you close your mouth to his ears, licking it sensually as how he liked it.

“You want to cum, hon?” Law nodded eagerly, lust drunk. “Me too. Can you feel how wet I am for you right now?” you cooed—placing one of his thighs in between your dripping sex and humping on it. The squelching sound it made was too much for Law to handle. Giving him shivers, and you feel his body tense against yours.

“This is so unfair, love.” whispering in his ears in a flirtatious tone. “As much as I want to play and tease you more while you’re in your female form, I wish you could fuck me senseless instead.”

Hearing your remark made Law choke.

“Fuck me so hard the only thing I could do is scream your name.” you added. “But I guess it’s not my lucky day, so to be fair, cum for me instead… but only through my voice.” purring to his ears.

As much as it pains him to admit, Law was actually enjoying this sadistic side of you. He was so thrilled seeing that confidence while you tormented him the whole time. And that dirty talk… hot damn. It makes him too impatient to go back to being a man so he can wipe that smug grin off your face using his cock.

Law’s already at his limit. Your voice sends a tingling sensation throughout his body, and it’s not helping him at all. He started jerking, trying his best to free himself from his shackles, and you’re enjoying watching him try.

To add more fuel to his now blazing fire of desire, you continued purring sweet nothings and dirty talking through his ears. Biting it, then licking, then moaning deliciously after.

“It’s alright, love. You’re doing great.”

“Ngghhh yes… yes that’s it… cum for mee”

“Can’t wait to have you inside me again. My pussy’s throbbing just thinking about it.”

“I am so hot and ready for you, babe.”

“I need you, Law.”

“I love you, captain.”

“Remember to pump me up with your seeds once you're back.”

“I want all of it. I want all of you.”

As soon as you said the last word, Law went on an overdrive—his slim female body spasms in delight with his successful release. Appalled that he came to a climax because of your voice.

You didn’t interrupt him this time and let him chase down his high. Planting kisses on his face, neck, and shoulders.

“Such a good boy.” you said, wrapping him in a hug as he pants, trying to get even breaths.

You both stayed in that position; moments later, you heard his light snores. Seeing that he’s already out cold, probably due to your exhausting torture, you carefully stood up and removed the seastone cuffs securing him one by one.

There were red marks around his wrists and ankles, proof of him trying to unbind himself the whole time. Feeling a pang of guilt, you softly caress the marks as if it’ll help heal them.

“I may have gone overboard. I’m sorry, love.”

To appease him when he wakes up, you change your clothes to one of his since yours has gotten quite messed up earlier and go over to the kitchen to get him some water and whip up an Onigiri.

As you return to your shared bedroom, you are so busy mentally thinking about the other things you must prepare to clean him up that you don’t notice the towering shadow in the room waiting for your return. You placed the tray you were holding on his desk near the entrance and were about to close the door when you saw Law –in his original, manly figure, in all his glory, closing in on you.

‘Oh no. This won’t be good.’

“Fuck. I forgot somethi–...” You frantically turn around to open the door when Law cuts you to it, pinning you in place between him and the door.

Feeling his breath in your ears, he whispered, “Why the rush, Y/N-ya? Didn’t you say you are so hot and ready for me?”

“I should’ve left you in cuffs until morning.” you whizzed.

Law only chuckled; wrapping his other hand on your waist, he spun you around to face him. There, you saw golden eyes staring back at you, piercing your soul and your very core. You swallowed up a lump.

His eyes are still lustful; you know he’ll go feral any minute because you awaken the beast.

“Who would’ve thought this was YOUR lucky day?” mocking you for what you said a while ago. “I hope you built up enough stamina because just as you wished, I’ll fuck you so hard; not only will you scream my name… but you may also not be able to walk for the next. Three. Days.”

‘I am sooo dead.’

(*/ω＼*) (*/ω＼*) (*/ω＼*) (*/ω＼*) (*/ω＼*) (*/ω＼*) (*/ω＼*)

A/N: Never thought my first Trafalgar Law fic would be smut. Not even sure if I intended it to be a dirty smut or a decent smut if that makes sense. Happy Valentine's to all!

My bisexual heart had never been triggered by a fictional character until this dazzling pirate captain came to my knowledge. Thank you, Oda-sensei! Thank you for making Trafalgar D. Water Law. I hope the live-action will do him justice, too.

#trafalgar law x reader #Law x reader #one piece Trafalgar Law #Law x Femreader #onepiece #Trafalgar D. Water Law #one piece smut #one piece Law smut #one piece valentine's

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