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withahappyrefrain · 10 months

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The 5 Times You Flirted With Bob + The 1 Time He Picked Up on It

Summary: You've fallen for your friend and have decided to drop some hints that you're flirting. Unfortunately, Bob doesn't realize that immediately.

Warnings: Language, no y/n, female reader, reader has a callsign (Honey)

Thank you to @dissonannce for this amazing idea. Thank you @acewritesfics for the dividers!

"Your hands are so big."

It took Bob a moment to register that you were in fact, talking to him.

"Oh! Um yeah. My ma made me do piano because she felt I was given the hands for them," Bob wiggled his fingers for extra effect, "Y'know, since they're so long."

Yes, they were quite long. It was one of the first things you noticed about Bob. Well, after you noticed his beautiful blue eyes, his endearing lopsided smile, the way he was so considerate of everyone else, so gentle, and yet there was an underlying confidence about him. He was sure of himself, but he didn't feel the need to brag.

Who could blame you for falling head over heels for him?

You flashed him a smile, hand reaching towards his.

"It's just, your hand is so much bigger than mine. See?" You propped his arm up, allowing your palm to press against his, both your fingers spread out to showcase the difference in size.

"See? My hand is so small compared to yours," You giggled. Bob looked down at your hands. Your breath hitched, your fingers twitching, dying to entwine with his.

"Yeah, there is quite a difference in size," Bob said, giving you that small smile you adored so much. That smile gave you the confidence to entwine your fingers with his.

"I think they fit pretty well together, see?" He wasn't letting go. He was still smiling as he looked down at your hand holding his.

Maybe this was finally it, he'd finally realized that you liked him and would-

"I'm gonna go get some more peanuts, can I get ya anything?"

You mustered up a smile, trying to cover up your disappointment, "I'll take a water. Thanks Robby."

As soon as he left, you shot Jake a dirty look, "Seresin, you said that shit would work!"

Jake, who had been pretending to play a game of pool with Bradley, Javy, and Mickey, put his hands up in defense, "Because it usually does! Everyone knows when a girl compares hand sizes it means she wants you!"

"Everyone but Bob apparently," Javy muttered.

"Maybe you just need to be more obvious?" Mickey suggested.

You sighed. You knew Bob. The last thing you wanted was to be so blunt it would overwhelm him. But at the same time, you two had been doing this whole 'friends but also more than that and I'm pretty sure we're flirting?' for the last month and you were getting annoyed with it how seemed to be going nowhere.

Perhaps Mickey was right. You were going to have to be a bit more obvious.

"Bee? You ready?" Bob called out from your living room. Bob's nickname of your callsign (Honey) always brought a smile to your face, as well as heat to your cheeks.

"Almost! Can I get your thoughts on this top?" You asked as you walked in.

"Yeah, I'm sure you look-oh." Bob's eyes widened as he took in the green top you were wearing.

It was tighter than the shirts you normally wore, highlighting your breasts. The fabric stopped right at the end of your rib cage, showing off your stomach and bringing attention to your high waisted jeans, which according to Jake "did wonders for your ass".

"What do you think?" You clasped your hands together, the action causing your breasts to stick out even further.

"Um the uh, the color is really great on you. B-brings out your eyes," Bob said, his eyes looking everywhere except you.

With the way his cheeks were bright red, it gave you confidence to step forward, your body now inches away from his, "I was hoping it would bring out something else besides my eyes Robby."

"I mean you you look great in everything you wear! So mission accomplished," Bob said quickly, his hands fidgeting with his car keys.

"Anything else you want to say about the outfit Robby? I really value your opinion." You stood on the tips of your toes, bringing your chest closer to Bob's face.

It was the first time since you walked in that his eyes landed on your chest. He cleared his throat, as if he was gathering up the courage to say it.

"You should grab a jacket, it's supposed to go down to the low sixties tonight," He said, turning around to head out the door.

God damn it.

You grabbed your phone, quickly texting the group.

Honey: We need to go to Plan C.

Rooster: Plan C?! You're saying the top didn't work?

Bagman: Dude, your tits were like out.

Rooster: Maybe they weren't out enough?

Coyote: If they were out any more, Honey would be getting a public indecency charge.

Phoenix: Maybe we shouldn't use clothes to express our feelings? Just a thought 🤦🏽

Fanboy: Yeah Nat, that's plan C.

Payback: Can we not blow up the group chat tonight? The finale of Insecure is on.

Your right leg bounced up and down in nervous anticipation, your eyes never leaving the entrance to the Hard Deck.

"You don't think this is too much, is it?" You asked your friends/coworkers.

"Nah, it'll be perfect!" Mickey reassured you.

"You and Bob are going to walk out of here holding hands by the end of the night, guarantee it," Jake commented as he lined up the balls for a round of pool.

It took all your strength not to jump out of your seat when you saw Bob walk in. His iridescent blue eyes scanned the room, landing on you. He always seemed to search for you, which had to be a sign that he wanted more, that he felt the same way as you did.

You greeted him with a smile, patting the empty seat next to him.

"Hey Robby! I got something for you!" You called out.

Bob just smiled as he sat down, "I see you got my signature: water and peanuts. Thanks Bee!"

You giggled, shaking your head, "Yes, but that's not just it. These are for you!"

Bob stared at the bouquet of flowers you were holding out for him.

"For me? These are for me?" He asked, eyes wide as saucers.

"Yes! I was just thinking, like why is giving guys flowers not a thing? Because it totally should be! And no one deserves these flowers more than you Robby," You explained, a hopeful smile adorning your face.

Bob gently took the bouquet, admiring each flower.

"I thought they would go well with your eyes-that's why a most of them are yellow," you explained, trying to hide how nervous you were.

"These are perfect," Bob said before leaning down to smell the flowers.

"Really? Each flower has a different meaning," you began, hoping that by fidgeting with your hands, you'd be able to conceal your nerves.

Bob simply smiled, his face the epitome of saccharine, "Oh, I already know."

Your breath hitched, "You do?"

Bob nodded, "Oh yeah! Alstroemerias symbolize support, sunflowers are for loyalty, and violets stand for intuition!"

He wasn't wrong. You couldn't tell if you were upset by that or the fact that Mickey forgot flowers can have more than one meaning.

Time for Plan D.

"Hey Robby! You ready to watch hot people make poor decisions?"

"Ready as I'll ever-that's new," Bob said softly, taking in the new loungewear you had on for your biweekly Love Island watch.

"Oh this? I think I got it last week," you said as you let Bob into your apartment, "It's super comfy and it has pockets!"

It also was cut low, showing off your cleavage, as well as the tops of your thigh.

"Yeah, the uh, color looks really good on you Bee," Bob commented. The compliment brought a smile to your face. He noticed you, noticed you were wearing something new, and seemed to be noticing your now exposed skin.

"Well, let's go see if these folks gain any common sense," you grabbed his hand, practically beaming at how your hand fit perfectly in his.

"Somehow I doubt it," Bob chuckled.

When he offered to hold the popcorn for while you two watched, you weren't disappointed. Sure, it meant you weren't able to hold his hand. But it did mean you could move closer to him, your thighs practically touching.

"I really hope he doesn't take her back," Bob muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.

"He will. They always do," you sighed, gently moving your head so it rested against one of his broad shoulders.

If your action had any effect on Bob, he didn't show it. Which was the problem.

"I would pick you in the recoupling," You revealed, hoping that would be enough, would finally be enough.

Bob smiled, placing a hand on your knee, "That's kind of you Bee. But I think friendship couples go against the nature of the show."

It took everything in you not to scream.

The rest of the night was just a typical Love Island watch night, no touching, no initiating, no declarations of love, and ending with Bob giving you a friendly hug goodbye.

With a sigh, you flopped onto your bed to check your messages.

Bagman: Bee, please tell us it worked and you're marking sweet love to baby on board

Phoenix: you're disgusting Seresin.

Rooster: why would they stop fucking just to text you Bagman?

Bagman: so we can pop some champagne to celebrate

Fanboy: Why the fuck is would we do that?

Coyote: It's a big event! Bee told Bob how she feels AND Bob's getting laid!

Payback: Can I just get one night of peace? Just one night?

You: No one's doing anything bc it didn't work!

Rooster: Not trying to be rude, but weren't you like almost naked?

Bagman: Like 52% nude.

Phoenix: JFC, we're going to plan E folks.

Coyote: Is that when we just lock them in a closet?

Bagman: No that's plan G

"Hey Bee!"

The cheerful, charming voice always brought a smile to your face.

"Hi Robby!" You greeted him with a hug, the comforting scent of rosemary filling your nostrils, "You smell really nice."

"Oh um thanks," A hand flew to the back of Bob's neck, a nervous (and also adorable) habit, "Wanted to smell nice after doing all those pushups out in the sun."

"Well it worked, you smell great," One of your hands reached up to the nape of his neck, toying with the hair that had curled at the end, "Look great too."

The tops of Bob's cheeks were now a dusty pink, "It's just a white Tshirt."

You took a step forward, placing your hands on his chest, "It's a good look Robby. Shows off your muscles. I like it on you.

Bob's lips parted, then promptly closed.

"Uh, t-thanks Bee." He had to know now that you were flirting with him. It was clear as day.

Feeling confident, your hands trailed down to his, grasping them, "We should dance!"

You didn't wait for Bob to answer, dragging him out to the middle of the floor. The sounds of Bradley covering Frankie Valli (begrudgingly, as apparently Jerry Lee Lewis was better) filled the bar.

After a few minutes, Bob's shoulders visibly relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. You threw your head back laughing as he bust out a goofy dance move.

Everyone thought Bob was shy, but that wasn't the case. He was observant, determined to get a good read on someone so he knew how to approach the situation accordingly. Once he was comfortable, his personality shined and he was a sweet, goofy man who you adored with all your heart.

The grin you had was so wide, your cheeks were beginning to hurt. But you couldn't stop, not when he was twirling you around.

"Where did you learn to dance like that?" You asked, having to say it into his ear so he could hear your voice above the music.

Bob shrugged, "I come from a big family. When you know you're going to a lot of weddings, knowing how to dance helps. That and my mom made me do cotillion."

"Well, all that practice paid off. You're a great dance partner Robby." You rested your chin against his broad chest, looking up to meet eyes bluer than the ocean.

In that moment, all you could do was focus on him. The way the corner of his eyes creased when he truly smiled, his comforting scent, his pink, thin lips that you were dying to feel on yours.

You wondered if he could hear your heart pounding, if he could feel it since your body was practically on his.

His hands found their way to your arms, gently placing themselves on your biceps. Was this it? It had to be.

So you stood on the tips of your toes, your lips now closer to his. Your eyes began to close as you leaned in to-

"I gotta go. Jake stuck his foot in his mouth again."

This wasn't a lie. But it still didn't dull your disappointment. Nor did it sedate your growing frustration at this whole situation.

Perhaps you didn't need Plan G or H Perhaps it was time to go with your original plan.

The next time you saw Bob was when Nat threw a small get together to celebrate the end of a long week.

He was wearing that damn white Tshirt again. Whenever he brought his cup of water to his mouth, the fabric stretched across his bicep.

Was he doing this on purpose? Did he know? Consciously or not, that you had fallen for him ever since you two first met at training?

Either way, you were tired of this game you had been playing for the past month.

"Are you sure about this?" Natasha asked.

You simply nodded before taking a shot of vodka. A little liquid courage was always nice.

"Nat, he's oblivious. Honestly, I don't know why we didn't do this the first time," Jake commented as he took the shot glass out of your hand.

"Because we didn't expect him to be that oblivious," Mickey countered.

"Well everyone, wish me luck." You walked out of the kitchen to find Bob still sitting on the couch, glass of water in hand.

His eyes met yours and he gave you a smile sweeter than honey. Your legs began to wobble, whether it was from that smile or your nerves, you couldn't say.

You walked over, making a beeline for him. Bob's eyes widened, his fingers gripping his cup. Your gaze was so intense.

"Hey Bee-oh!" Bob froze as you sat down in his lap, your thighs straddling his lithe hips.

"Hey Robby," your hands found his shoulders, fingers toying with the thin cotton fabric of his shirt.

"Uh Bee, there's um, there's a seat right there," Bob weakly pointed to the empty space next to him.

"I don't want that," you leaned forward, your forehead grazing his, "I want you Robby."

His eyes widened once more, as if he just saw an incoming train, "M-me?"

"Yes. Wanted you ever since that first day of training, when you offered me a mint," you told him.

"I uh, you looked sleepy and mint is known to wake you up and," Bob paused, "Did you say since the first day of training?"

You nodded, smiling at how you were able to see him process this information.

"The first day of training?" He repeated.

"Yes Bob, all you did was offer me a mint and smile to make me fall head over heels for ya," your fingers now went up to the back of his neck, twirling the curled ends of his hair, "Been trying to tell you that for the last month."

Bob opened his mouth, then promptly closed it, his brain still processing everything.

"You good Rob-" You never got to finish your sentence, as Bob decided right then was the best time to press his lips against yours.

His lips were soft and tasted faintly of vanilla, no doubt from the chapstick you watched him reapply. His touch was gentle, his thick fingers ghosting over your thighs, trailing up to your waist. Every move, no matter how small, made your heart fluttered.

Being so close to him, you could smell his aftershave, a mix of eucalyptus and sage. It was intoxicating and you wanted to be surrounded by it all the time, wanted to kiss him all the time.

When he broke away for air, you had to hold back a whimper, your lips desperate for more.

"FINALLY!"

You turned your head to find Bradley, along with Mickey, Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Reuben standing by the doorframe, in perfect view of you and Bob.

You smiled and opened your mouth, ready to make a quick remark. But Bob's fingers hooked underneath your chin, turning your head back to meet his lips again.

Unlike the first kiss, this one was bolder. His lips moved against yours with more confidence. Your whole body felt warm, as if you were floating. His hands now cupped your jawline, which is how you learned that Bob's hands practically covered your whole neck, a discovery that sent you reeling.

Your hands trailed up to his head, desperate to feel his sun kissed locks, desperate to find out if they were as soft as they looked. But just before you could, Bob broke away.

"What?" Anxiety came rushing back, dragging you away from Cloud Nine, your previous location. Did he regret it?

"Let's go."

He moved your body to the empty space on the couch, quickly getting up. You took his hands, allowing him to help you get up. You held onto one hand as he led you to the front door.

"Bob! What are you doing with my backseater?" Javy called out.

"Making up for lost time!"

Maybe you should be a little embarrassed. But how could you? You had finally kissed the man of your dreams, he kissed you back. He wanted to leave with you.

The sounds of the house party fainted, becoming soft background noise as you went outside.

Bob stopped, turning around to face you. Before you could get out a sound, his lips were on you again. His hands pulled your body to his, closing the gap in-between.

You couldn't help but moan when you felt his tongue slide against your bottom lip, immediately granting him entrance. You could hear Bob's breath hitch, his hands roaming across your body, touching your soft skin.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you desperate for more.

"Why do you keep doing that?!"

"I...." His face was flushed, "I meant to ask you if if you drove yourself here. But you looked so kissable. You still do, God I just wanna kiss you again."

"I'm not stopping you Robby," you grinned, stepping towards him, "I'm not stopping you at all."

"Oh don't tell me that darlin'" his Midwestern upbringing laced his words. You always loved his accent, having found it not just unique but also comforting.

Somehow, despite his lips pressed against yours, Bob was able to walk you back to his car, your back meeting the cool metal.

His broad body draped over yours, his tongue frantically exploring your mouth. Your fingers reached up, grasping his hair. It was soft and much thicker than you expected.

What else was there about Bob you had yet to learn? What kind of toothpaste he used, if he drank tea or coffee in the morning. Did he fall asleep to rain sounds or silence? How many pillows were on his bed?

You wanted to know everything.

But right now, you just wanted to kiss Bob.

Your fingers tugged on his hair in an attempt to pull him closer to you. Despite his chest being pressed against yours, it wasn't enough. You wanted all of him.

"We should get in the car," He said, voice breathless. With the way his chest was rising, one would think he had just ran ten miles.

Bob began moving towards the driver's side of his truck, but he stopped, turning back to you.

"I want to take you home," He stated. It sounded like a confession with the way guilt laced his eyes.

"I would love that Robby."

Instead, he just shook his head, "But I shouldn't because you deserve more than that. You deserve a nice date, like that Italian restaurant we always pass when we go to Bradley's. You deserve that and flowers and a lovely dinner with candles and wine that's older than both of us-"

You cut him off by gently pecking his lips, "It's okay Bob. You could take me to that diner up the room from your place tomorrow morning and I'd be elated because I would be with you."

He shook his head, clearly torn between continuing to talk and continuing to kiss you, "But....it's the least I should do. I mean, after all the hints you were dropping. I thought you were just being friendly and-"

"What friend asks another friend to look at their chest?" You asked incredulously.

"I thought maybe we were just really close! That you were really comfortable around me, which is why I didn't think anything regarding what you wore when we watched Love Island. I mean," his face reddened, "I did think about it. Um I thought about it a lot and if you ever want to wear it again, I would not mind-"

"Bob," you stepped forward, placing your hands on his chest.

"I mean, you got me Violets! Those mean loyalty and devotion, as well as delicate love! And believe me I wanted to kiss you at the Hard Deck, but that is entirely Jake's fault-"

"As most things are."

"And looking back it was so obvious and I can't believe I didn't pick up on it," He paused, "Sorry, I I had to get that out. I can take you home or back to my place, whatever you want."

You giggled, delighted by his ramblings. You wanted to hear more of it.

"And now I just want to kiss you. Like all the time," He confessed, his lips moving closer to yours.

"Robby, get in the car," you instructed.

"Oh, um, okay," Bob unlocked his car, moving towards the driver seat.

"No Bob. Get in the back of the car," you instructed.

Bob's brows knitted together in confusion, "But then how will I drive-oh!"

Who knows if you were going to make it back to his place or yours. All you cared about was getting your lips and hands back on Bob Floyd.

#my writing #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd fluff #bob floyd fic #robert bob floyd fic #bob top gun #top gun bob #top gun maverick fanfiction #tgm fanfiction #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd

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bloodcasket · 1 year

Note

Hiii!! I hope you're doing well!!

If you're feeling up to it, I was just wondering if you'd consider writing something short and sweet about Vergil and reader where the reader sees him with his hair down for the first time and absolutely adores his hair? I saw a mod recently where Vergil's got his hair down, almost like Dante's and it just looks so soft and fluffy!!

CAFUNÉ ⋆ ﾟ☾

PAIRINGS: Vergil Sparda x GN!Reader

WARNINGS: Not exactly proof-read (lightly scanned). Overall fluff. :) Simple talk about Vergil's personal troubles, and his emotions.

DESCRIPTION: Wherein the reader finally sees Vergil with his hair down.

A/N: Thank you for your request love. Hope you're doing well too.🖤🖤

There's something cool and restrained about Vergil whenever you're around him.

A sway of your body near his, and suddenly, he is distancing himself. The flesh of your finger tickles against his, he brushes you off. A flickering of your lashes in his presence, he casts his eyes away, avoiding the tenderness in your gaze.

He never shows you disdain, just uncertainty, maybe, fear. Insecurity. Hesitance.

It's not until he finds you that you're certain. His once pale, porcelain skin, silky and smooth, now battered and pores brandishing purple and blue. Cuts and welts that have now tainted his complexion.

He stands at the center of the doorway, tall and broad, clothes matted with mud and slick with blood. The smell of copper and grime desecrates his body. He takes thoughtful breaths of air, smooth and calculated.

This feels like the first time he's ever looked upon you, asked for guidance with just a flickering plea in his blue eyes. The first time he does not shy away.

Maybe, he's not disgusted. He's just afraid, unsure of what he wants.

"Vergil?" you call out for him, voice wavering, your palm shaking as you still grasp the doorknob. "Come inside". You speak softly, worried.

Thoughts flood your head as he doesn't utter even a single word. Just a gentle hum-you took it as thanks-and a gentle push inside through the door. The buckles on his boots rattling as he takes cautious steps inside.

He's been here before. Inside the comfort of your home, yet he acts cautious, awkward.

He is your lover. But even he, a powerful demon, has yet to learn everything that love can offer. What a home can feel like.

You don't attempt to ask what happened, nor place your hands all over him in hopes it will reassure him. You know it won't, and if anything, it would only irritate him, inflict pain on his pride.

"Vergil..." he doesn't look at you as you speak, head still tilted to the floor, his plush lips parted as he breathes, strands of white hair crusted and slick against his temple, crimson dying his scalp.

Only a shutter in his lengthy fingers as he grips his Yamato by his side, he's listening intently to your words, taking them in. Appraising your sweet tone within himself. Grateful to finally have someone.

"Let's get you cleaned up, hm?".

Just like any other moment with the tall, brooding half-demon, the walk to the bathroom is quiet. You lead him toward the tub, your gaze quickly switching to focus on him. Only soft care is present in the way you look at him, your face asking for permission just with a notion of your silken smile.

"I'm going to get your wounds taken care of, and your clothes clean, is that alright with you?" you ask, catching a glimpse of the way his pupils dilate just at the sight of you standing before him.

"Yes..." the tone he speaks is low and grave, his voice hoarse and almost wounded, as if he had been too choked up to speak anything else.

You're content with his compliance, he wants to be comfortable around you, to let you take care of him.

You bend to fix a tub of warm water for him, filling it with crystalline liquid, your fingers pruning at the tips as you swash aromas around in the tub, filling it with rosemary soap and watching lavender salts melt away beyond the suds. The pooling water is now becoming opaque, mountains of bubbles building.

As you turn, you catch the timorous expression he wears as he peers at himself through the mirrors reflection, white eyebrows furrowed, a line building in-between them. Insecure. Unsure. Doubting. Mouth twitching with condemnation.

"Come", you say with sodden palms open, and he obeys, allowing you to strip him of the pungent clothes he wears, your smile of tenderness never dissipating as you toss the dirty assortment into the hamper and guide his tall form into the steaming water.

He sinks into the floral water, a groan hitched in the back of his throat as his back eases with the scorching heat beating into his muscles.

"Feels better already, doesn't it?" your voice is airy, reassuring. He doesn't respond, you didn't expect him to.

You topple amounts of shampoo between your delicate fingertips, bringing it to the roots of his hair and lathering the product along his snowy scalp.

You scrub until the red and black become foamy, you scrub until Vergil purrs in delight.

It's with this, that you realize, he is nothing short of ethereal. Your first time he is so vulnerable enough to present himself to you.

With the water rinsing away the foam, his hair is like a glistening pearl, his natural glossy white untainted, cleansed from your devotion.

Unlike his brother, Vergil preferred to keep himself refined and tidy. It was rare when you saw Vergil showing skin, or speaking too hysterically. Or letting his hair fall loose the way it did now. Cascading over his white eyelashes, his lips relaxed and his expression tranquil. Pleased with you. Jubilant with your very existence.

"You are beautiful..." you speak with a grin, your nails curving into his hair, curious fingertips feeling the soft and silky thickness. You didn't lie. It was no hoax. This, was true. He was an art piece.

Long, once slicked back strands now stick against his face, straight and shiny along the structure of his cheekbones.

"This is my first time seeing your hair like this" a gentle whisper of admiration is heard from your lips. "Would it be selfish of me to wish to see it more often?".

Your demon lover grunts in response, blue eyes opening to stare you down. "Don't get your hopes up", his voice is lax, smooth and nonchalant, his large palm reaches up to press lightly into your wrist, dragging your palm until it rests on his cheek. "It is not guaranteed to happen". Your thumb rubs caresses of worship there, soft eyes filled to the brim with adoration, soaking in this image.

"Thank you", he speaks afterwards, nuzzling into your touch. This time, he will allow it.

"Thank you", he repeats, over and over, until every wound and laceration is treated. "Thank you", until every bruise is kissed.

It's not later on into the night that he joins you for rest, he had insisted on a moment of peace, a moment of privacy. You had no problem obliging.

When you wake the next morning with a tickling sensation crossing your temples, you open your once sealed eyes, corners crusted with sleep. Eyes now adjusting to the light, you take in your sleeping lover before you. His arms are wrapped comfortably around you, ensuring that you are pressed against the broadness of his chest.

Hair is still free, soft and puffy, cascading wonderfully down the structure of his glowing face. Strands caught between the plushness of his pink lips. He hadn't slicked it back yet.

Nights pass, and it remains. Long hair is kept as a special gift for you, neverending.

#vergil sparda x reader #dmc x reader #vergil x you #vergil x reader #vergil fluff #devil may cry x reader

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hongyangi · 10 months

Text

golden summer | ksw.

warnings: minors dni, soft dom husband sunwoo, pure smut, afab reader, overstimulation (they went x rounds 💀), pool sex (💀), corruption kink, size difference

word count: 7.9k words

a/n: this is the first time i wrote a smut (and it's this long warahel) so please pardon any weirdly used terms and the likes (i haven't gotten used to it). this is very long and nasty, proofread once (i'm dying). also im so sorry in advance for the typos and repetitive sentences if there are any! i hope reader can enjoy~ <3

tagging: first tag with @deoboyznet

On a hot summer, your husband, Sunwoo, and you have decided to be out of town to stay at a vacation house. You have been married for a few years, doing this and that together. A simple vacation like this is uncommon, however. So whenever your schedules have been cleared, you go out or travel— even if it was planned on the same day.

This vacation too— only being planned when you talked about summer upon waking up cuddled in bed. On a golden afternoon, Sunwoo prepares the meat on a grill and sets up a romantic table for a cute date as well. When you see the golden hour illuminating the sky and sea, you go to the pool of your luxurious vacation house. The view is like a live painting while swimming in the pool. The sky shines hues of pink, gold, and orange during the sunset and the sea seemed like heaven facing the earth.

While setting the table, Sunwoo looked at you, admiring her favorite time of the day. Your half body dipped in the blue water, back facing him. You’re watching the fascinating view as if in a movie, arms resting on top of each other on the edge of the pool. Sunwoo couldn't help himself but to look at his wife and appreciate all of her features.

Sunwoo decided to get into the pool as well without you noticing, arms suddenly hugging you tightly from behind while watching the sunset. His arms wrapped around your waist.

"The sunset is beautiful, love. I love it." Asked Sunwoo, his breath fanning on your ear as he traces his nose behind your temple.

"As much as me?" You giggled, uplifted that Sunwoo still feels excited by your beauty even for a couple of years. A smile brightly painted your face as you turned around to hug him back. Your dazzling body touched Sunwoo's, whose hands rested on your hips. You have your hands around his neck as you share a kiss. The kiss was so tender and sweet and made him want more.

The water on the pool softly splashed when Sunwoo pressed his body against yours, closing the gap. The warm sunset touched your back, and the orange and pink light illuminated the surroundings, touching your skin in golden light.

The two of you shared an intimate moment, Sunwoo's lips connected to yours as if never letting go. He slowly puts his hand on your back smoothly then pulls you closer.

You giggled in the kiss, feeling butterflies in your stomach with the position you have shifted to. Your face was on his face, and your lips were just still in touch with each other. He didn't know why he could feel like this, so magical with just a kiss.

More water splashes on your bodies when you try to move. You didn't miss looking at Sunwoo with hooded eyes, watching the droplets of water fall on his stunningly tanned skin. The golden sunset made him glisten and he looked ethereal. While your legs wrapped around him, Sunwoo's hands squeezed your bottom and lifted you up. Your bikini almost fell off from Sunwoo's strong grip.

Your body felt so soft and delicate against his, it was like you were made for Sunwoo. Sunwoo thinks you looked cute while your body was dripping wet and hair messy because of the wind. Sunwoo looked at you with a smile, face still so close you could feel his breath.

He is able to see how your bikini is almost falling off your petiteness. However, Sunwoo lets you cling on top of him, with one of his hands holding your leg and one softly tucking your hair behind your ear. Sweeping the hair from your shoulder, he could see the strap of your two-piece. He smirked, watching his finger play on the strap. Sunwoo twirled his finger and snapped it off. The strap falls off your shoulder until one of your bosoms is exposed to the cold pool. Sunwoo's breath hitched. Your skin looked so delicate and heavenly under the golden and pink sunset.

Every touch from Sunwoo felt nice for your liking. When Sunwoo's hand caresses your hair, you could feel emotions soaring, that touch alone could make your heart beat so fast and feel hot. Watching Sunwoo's finger playfully touch the strap could make you full of desire.

"Please... Touch me more..." You whispered seductively, voice so sweet, it made Sunwoo want to give you what you wanted. Sunwoo repeated what he did on the other side of the strap. Your brassiere fell down under your bosoms, displaying your skin and flesh for him beautifully like a perfect sculpture. Pulling the tied ribbon on your back, he threw the tiny cloth on the pool and it floated somewhere away. He bites his lip and looks at his wife with a smug smile. You playfully hit his arm and the two of you tittered.

There was no need to say anything else, Sunwoo's expression was definitely something else. He couldn't resist, he looked at you like a wild beast who found its prey. His lips pressed into a deep kiss and passionately, his hand went down on your thigh and he started to squeeze it.

You could see Sunwoo's expression changing in every second he looked at you, and it made it even more exciting. The sound of water sloshing slowly stopped, and you realized that you are totally exposed to Sunwoo's view now in silence. You smiled enticingly, feeling a sense of confidence as he admired you like that, you felt like you were the only one in Sunwoo's heart.

In no time, Sunwoo's finger worked on your underwear, ghosting his fingers along the waistband under the water. You looked at him as you bit your lips, heart pounding really hard to which you couldn't believe what you were doing right now, exposing yourself to him in the pool. But the excitement and arousal felt too real, you couldn't deny it, you actually felt amazing to have Sunwoo's gaze like that. As seconds passed by, you could feel how much your body was becoming warmer because of excitement.

"Please..." You couldn't contain yourself anymore, your words were so soft and sweet.

"Do you want it?" Sunwoo asks in mischief. His smirk makes you whine and you nod, "Yes... I want it so bad." His smile got bigger after hearing your words. The look on his face and his little mischief were so hard to resist. It was hot because of the summer, also because of the excitement and arousal that’s starting to immerse in you. Sunwoo kissed you again, he was just so desperate to feel everything all at once. He slowly moved down from your lips to your neck. He nibbled and sucked then moved lower and started pecking on your collarbone and shoulder. From his kisses, your body was slowly becoming more sensitive. Shivers run down your senses.

Your arms clasped together to hold tight on him. Sunwoo moved closer to the side of the pool while carrying you. When you're situated, he lets go of your thighs and pulls his white polo shirt above his head, making it float away with his shorts. His hard length makes contact with the water. Your body felt like it was floating on a cloud, with Sunwoo as your angel. You watched him with half-lidded eyes and hands still gripping his body tightly. Nails grazing the skin of his shoulder blades. Eyes met with Sunwoo's for a moment and it made your heart pound like crazy.

Sunwoo was getting frustrated too, it was impossible to control himself whenever you’re in front of him. "Honey..." His voice whimpers as he sucked on your neck again. You nod to urge Sunwoo to do his thing, naked bodies dancing against each other in the pool. He holds onto your waist then grabs one of your thighs and places it over his shoulder. Your other feet help you balance on the pool's floor. The new position sent you whining as your core made contact with the hard and erect Sunwoo under the water. Sunwoo was so aroused by this moment, and he looked into your half-lidded eyes while enjoying the pleasure of your body. Your bodies made a great pair, they fit so well together. He could see how excited you were and how much you enjoyed this. Your soft moan sent him over the edge and moaning as well.

When Sunwoo pushed himself in, the water splashed and you almost fell. But your arms rested on the edge of the pool and it supported your weight. With the new balance you got, Sunwoo easily pounded on you. You were moaning loud. One leg over his shoulder helped your sensitive spot to stretch for Sunwoo's huge member. Still, it felt so tight. With each thrust, water splashed around and your breasts bounced. Sunwoo put one of your nipples in his mouth and sucked it like he’s an infant.

You looked at the blue water that splashed around and it made you feel a bit dizzy and didn't realize how intense this moment was. But at least Sunwoo was in control so you felt safe. Sunwoo's thrust was going deeper and deeper but it still felt good. His touch made everything feel better. You felt great pleasure in your sweet spot, and your whole body seemed to be on fire. You felt it all the way to your toes.

Your petite body feels so small against him and it drives him insane. It feels like you are so delicate but he wanted to do all nasty things on it. He felt like he's gonna wreck you. Sunwoo's balls touched the skin under your buttocks and it reminds you that he is deep inside. You kept moaning until your voice was hoarse. It's becoming more intimate the more your bodies collide.

You felt like Sunwoo's heaven. The sound of Sunwoo's deep moans is harmonizing with your high-pitched whines like a love song. He devours your left breast again, making sure you get more pleasure. So his other hand played on your right breast, kneading on it. Then he moved his mouth to the other breast like he's having a feast. When his mouth is satisfied, Sunwoo grabs both of your thighs, making sure that he holds you correctly then he makes his speed faster. It made you feel more sensitive. Your breasts were already feeling good but it was getting better each time Sunwoo played with them. The sensations burn throughout your wholeness and you could see Sunwoo looking at you the way he always did, so special and wanted. He was so hot and the way he made you feel so good made him even hotter and sexier. Every time you made love, the feeling was always intense and special.

His violent pounding while in the pool made him bite his lower lip until it's swollen. His eyebrows curled and his eyes half-closed, he couldn't miss watching how their bodies collided though. As well as how his manhood penetrated you. He doesn't wanna stop.

Sunwoo's face turned red. He felt so good and he wanted to keep going. He couldn't imagine stopping at that moment just because your body was wet or dirty. He had lost himself in that passionate moment where he couldn't control his manly instinct and the intense pleasure that he felt in his manhood. Soon, his legs shake and his thrusts become more inconsistent, signaling that he's near his climax. He wants to make sure that he will release inside of you. Your body was trembling too and you couldn't move the way it should because of the position. You felt weak, but couldn't hold on much longer. You felt that this time, you were about to reach the highest peak of pleasure and couldn't hold it anymore.

In a few seconds, you came undone, giving a long moan and you thought that Sunwoo had also finished inside of you. However, you gasp and look abruptly at Sunwoo with eyes wide open when he thrusted again. You can't believe he's not stopping. You mewled, "Sunwoo....." Then your hands gripped on his shoulders. But Sunwoo only looked at you with a naughty and dark grin as he continued penetrating you.

Sunwoo's instinct could hardly stop, it felt like he was on fire. He felt every second, it was like he didn't even breathe at that moment. The way you were shaking made him even more eager to push you to the edge, he wanted to show you how much he can go. He slowly put his hand on your waist and pulled you close so he could dive in deeper, his lips crashing on yours as if devouring you once again. Then he thrusts over and over again, it seemed like he wasn't getting tired. He's so fired up and turned on.

Your mind seemed to be empty of any thoughts. As if you forgot where you were and felt the place ascending. The way you didn't move at all while Sunwoo was putting all his energy in every thrust was so crazy, you even looked like a doll. Sunwoo's thrust was fast, deep, strong and passionate. He liked to dominate you like this, to see you like that while you made love was extremely satisfying and arousing.

Sunwoo carried you out of the pool while his hard length was still inside of your core. Legs wrapped around him so he carries you easily. He found a sunbed and laid you down there. There was no stopping him. Once you’re laid down, he continues his movement.

It didn't make any difference for Sunwoo, he loved when he dominated you in many positions. He had been looking for a moment like this. Pushing you down onto the sunbed, he climbed on top of you. He continued to penetrate hard and deep. It felt so good, he felt a sense of power. But you couldn't move and couldn't ask him to stop.

Instead, you gave your all to him. Intimate thoughts like this make you want Sunwoo more. He becomes slower then he leans into you to give you a passionate kiss again while he thrusts up. The overstimulation sends you to cloud nine. This moment could be considered art.

Sunwoo was still in the mood to go further. He held your chin up and kissed you again with all the passion in the air. His thrusts picked up speed again, his member penetrated deeper. When he felt his climax coming, he pushed in deeper making you moan loud and begging. Your body felt so overwhelmed with how his pace became messier and inconsistent. You trembled as you felt another knot in your stomach coming undone. Your wetness dripped from the tightness of your hole that’s holding him inside. Once you’re finished again, he quickly pulls. Pain makes it sting for your sensitive spot. But to your shock, when you look at Sunwoo, he's standing above you. His hands gripped on his length and his pinkish tip was scattering his wetness on top of your stomach.

What a pleasant, surprising gift. When you looked at Sunwoo above you, you couldn't speak because it was so sudden. Words get stuck in your throat but your eyes speak clearly to him. You never saw Sunwoo like this, he looked so hot, strong and virile. You couldn't believe you belonged to this tall, handsome and virile man.

"That was hot." You complimented, voice still hoarse and still sensitive.

Your smile didn't disappear. In your eyes, Sunwoo was the best man you ever met. Sunwoo still felt the rush of the moment. "I couldn't stop myself."

He was still breathless, with a slight tremble in his hands. He was looking at you with a hint of regret, like he had done something dangerous, but at the same time proud. Then he gently fixes your position, “Wait a moment. Stay there.” Sunwoo says and runs towards a rack of towels and robes to get one. He came back with a towel on his half body and another on his hand. “Stay still.” He says calmly, his tone so angelic for your ears. Sunwoo wipes the stickiness from your body and covers you up as he sits down beside you..

You noticed his apologetic eyes and knew he was contemplating if he hurt you. So you cupped his face and giggled after pecking on his lips. "I loved it." You complimented.

He seemed even more surprised by that gesture. Your laugh and your little peck made him feel warm, like a boy spreading his arms freely under the warm sun.

"You liked it? Really?" He asked, he looked like he was shocked at your pleased giggles. But your satisfaction is enough for him.

"Yes... It's so hot..." You smiled and kissed his cheek this time. An idea came into your mind with a hint of mischief. You whispered in his ear, "I can't believe you did that. I feel like going again." Then your laugh followed.

He blushed after hearing those words, it made his heart race and a spring bloomed in his stomach. If you wanted to, he wouldn't hesitate to do it again. He was so excited about your words.

"You enjoyed it that much?” He looked at you with a smug smile, he was glad that it was you who wanted to go again.

You nod with a playful smile, eyes scanning all the features of his face so lovingly. "Unless you're tired?" You suddenly said with a caring tone but still teasing him.

He laughed. His warm voice making your heart flutter. "I'm far from being tired." The way he said that made it sound like he could go a few rounds more. He was staring at you, thinking that he had never seen that much beauty and innocence in one woman before. How could a woman like that belong to him? He felt too lucky to have you by his side. It’s like it was always warm like summer with you around him.

Even as you spoke, he was still caressing your arms and your sides. His hands moving on your waist and pulling you closer. He really wants you… He wants you so badly.

"Glad to know." You respond with a breathy voice and it turns him on. A small hue of pink painted his cheeks. Then you stood up, naked body walked in front of him. He closely watches you until you do your next move. "Lie down, honey." You suggested and he laid down on the sunbed. Positions switched.

His naked body displayed beautifully on your view. It was getting darker and you're still outside eating each other out. His member is slightly softened now. You sit in between his legs on the sunbed and pull your hair back on your shoulders. You lick your lips to wet them and your face sunk down to meet his erectness.

Your innocent smile made Sunwoo's heart race so fast that he felt confused. He didn't expect you to do that. Especially, occasions like this rarely happen where you take control. But he doesn’t complain. He could feel his body turning hot and his mouth was so dry and hungry. He wanted you so much.

He tried to grab your hair, making it loose like that on your bare shoulders. He also wanted to touch it, that hair was like a sweet temptation. Sunwoo felt a bit embarrassed that you could see him like this. He has always been dominant. But now he finds another side of you that he didn’t expect. But when he felt that your mouth was already sliding down his manhood, he completely forgot about him being shy. His hand that grabbed your head rested there, caressing you.

You started working your tongue around his tip while you were touching his balls. Sunwoo's cock slowly hardened again. He felt too good… too lost in the sensation in this moment, like he couldn't think anymore. He only felt pleasure, so pleasing, so warm and so exciting. He wanted this moment to be longer, he wanted to experience and explore more of you.

Sunwoo closed his eyes, thinking only of you. He enjoyed this moment being so elated, as well as surprised to see that the first one who took initiative for a time like this was you. You glide your tongue on his length as if measuring it. Your nose touches it at the same time so he can feel your breath on his sensitive part. It sends shivers on his spine. You caressed his thick thighs that are flexing its muscles with your hands while doing this.

When you feel his grip on your hair becoming rougher, you open her mouth, lips closing on his shaft down his girth. Then you slowly slide your mouth down, gobbling Sunwoo's length up. He slowly grew bigger inside your mouth. At first, your bobs were slow. You move your head up and down at a steady pace. When he grips roughly on your hair, you feel some of Sunwoo's veins on your tongue twitching. So even when his length doesn't fit inside of your mouth in full, you bob your head up and down at an increased speed.

Every movement that came from your lips and tongue in this moment was sending him in paradise. Your mouth felt so wet, warm and exciting, he wanted to see how far you would allow him to go. He couldn't imagine this moment to be like this. He really couldn't believe he was about to have a moment like this with you.

He looked down at you in awe. You’ve always seemed so innocent and pure, yet so lustful and naughty at the same time. Your face, smile, even your expression— it was all so attractive and he couldn't resist you.

He was moaning continuously and it was music in your ears. The warmth of your mouth and the wetness of your tongue sends him on edge. You want to fit him inside so you hollow your cheeks and sink his length deeper until it's in your throat.

Sunwoo hisses at this. His body became more flushed and hotter. The way you swallowed him drove him insane and he couldn't resist any longer. The feeling was incredibly overwhelming, Sunwoo could feel his heart beating so fast. His eyes seemed to be glazed with desire, face all red and flushed. He let out a slight and quick moan that came from the back of his throat. He didn't know what to do anymore.

You seemed so innocent and truth be told, you haven't experienced any intimate moments with anyone else aside from your husband. He was wondering where you learned all of these and how you know how to please him so well. But when he remembered this information, he became more turned on because he realized it was because of him. His corruption to your innocent mind makes him more excited and at the same time, content and delighted.

When you swallowed his length, your lips touched the skin of his testicles and your throat bulged. Sunwoo blushed upon knowing he is completely inside your mouth. When the sound of your lips and saliva became louder, he groaned again. He tugs on your hair more roughly, and you gag on his length and start to drool. Your eyes are sent to the back of your head making you look very erotic in front of Sunwoo.

Sunwoo felt a sense of power, he felt he had taken over your mind. He loved the idea that you have been corrupted by him. With one hand, he kept pulling on your hair, with the other, he caressed your hair on your shoulders as he felt himself twitch. Every move of his made your body shake and he felt like he had succeeded in dominating you.

It was so hot, so thrilling. Sunwoo was feeling like his whole mind and body was under your spell too. He is addicted to the moment he was having with you right now. Sunwoo kept tugging on your hair, making you gag more. He seemed like he wanted to put you in a position where he could see you more… and touch more.

Sunwoo couldn't make words come out of his mouth anymore, he was lost in this moment where both of you were so passionate and eager. It was like he had been hypnotized. He was really lost and felt like he was going to explode with so much love, desire and lust. No longer in his own world, there was nothing else except you and those sweet lips. He was too hungry, too eager, too thirsty, it was like madness.

In a few minutes, when you slowly pulled your head up but still kept Sunwoo's shaft in your mouth, you gulped and sucked on his tip. The sight was so provocative. You kept driving Sunwoo crazy, moaning, and gasping. He swallowed breaths that he couldn't get off of his throat. His legs shook and suddenly, his white liquid came splurging inside your mouth until it spilled.

Sunwoo felt a feeling of satisfaction and excitement. He couldn't hold himself, he was shaking and he couldn't stop his loud and long moans coming out of his mouth this time. He felt like his body had released all of the stress and pressure that had built up inside him for a long time. He looked at you who was sitting in front of him while slowly licking his juices.

He watches with a smile and couldn't help but be so proud. He could see that you felt exactly the same way as him. Sunwoo was beyond pleasure, he was way beyond all this. His mind almost went blank because of the intense sensations. He couldn't find the word to describe how good that felt.

Then you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and gasp for air. You couldn't believe you just did all that. With chest heaving up and down, you calmed your heavy breathing. When Sunwoo sees this, he sits up and cups your cheeks. "You did so well, love." He compliments, making you smile so proudly. You were still in the atmosphere of that moment. You looked at Sunwoo with eyes full of longing and love. The smile that came after he praised you was like a sweet reward in your heart.

"I'm glad." You felt so full of love for Sunwoo. Too good and full of life. You also felt bliss engulfing you, because you thought you had succeeded in making the man by your side very happy. At this moment, you claimed yourself the best wife in the world.

Sunwoo caresses your back while you catch your breath, smiling so softly. But behind his smile, he still has a plan to reward you for making him feel so good and looking so sexy in front of him. It makes him giggle, which you only understood as a loving gesture instead of the naughty idea.

When your chest relaxes, he compliments you again and pats your back. It was already night time when you finally took consciousness of the surroundings. You both laughed after seeing that the golden and pink sky has turned dark blue decorated with shining pearls called stars.

"Well, we took our time." He giggles with you. Sunwoo was still caressing your back. His other hand was roaming everywhere, he couldn't help himself because his wife was just so beautiful.

Sunwoo then leaned in close to you again, his eyes filled with desire and his mouth so close to your ear. He whispered softly, "I love you so much, my love." His tongue softly licks your ear and he smiles at the reaction it brought.

You giggle and realize his desire hasn't died down yet, "I love you too." You whisper close to him, and add, "What are we gonna do next?"

Sunwoo slowly pulled you to him, his eyes full of desire. He then whispered seductively and so lovingly at the same time, "I want you, baby... right now. And I want to reward you for that."

You laughed, but the feeling was because of being so wanted and loved. "Make me feel good?" You asked in a teasing tone as you looked at him and spied on his lips. Sunwoo couldn't say anything, his lips were already taking on command and closing on your sweet ones, embracing you once again in another delicious kiss. His hands were so eager to touch and caress everything on your body that gave him so much happiness, love and desire.

He caressed your cheeks while you tilted your head. When Sunwoo breaks away from the kiss, he wraps the towel he took earlier around your body. Then he carries you to the dinner table and places you on top of it, where he set up the dinner earlier that was now untouched and forgotten. You laughed when you realized that you hadn't eaten what you prepared earlier. "I could have you as my meal all day." Sunwoo says with a wide grin on his face as he looks down at you.

You laughed so much, so free and excited. You looked overjoyed to be in this moment with your man. His words were so romantic and so naughty at the same time. You couldn't resist being more provocative with Sunwoo. So without hesitation, you lifted your leg and put it on Sunwoo's knee. You looked at Sunwoo with a seductive look in your eyes, it's like you were teasing him again.

"Then you'd better eat me." With this said, it was as if you were seducing your husband right in front of his eyes. He chuckles shortly and leans into you, placing his hand on the small of your back, "Gladly."

Sunwoo didn't waste time to give his lovely wife open-mouthed kisses. It's as if he could swallow you. He removed the towel from your body and dropped it on the grass. The two of you continued making out for a while.

The romantic table was set up with a vase of fragrant flowers, expensive red wine and wine glasses, and fairy lights— you sit on top of the table sprawled out to Sunwoo as if you're the main dish. Sunwoo loves that idea.

He leans into your half body, laying down on the table while your feet rests up on the edge, spreading your legs open. Sunwoo smirked as he saw your cunt glisten with the fairy lights. It's so seductive.... Making him harder.

Sunwoo was too attracted to this position that you offered to him. He was too excited to touch his wife's wetness on the dinner table. He wanted that moment very much, so he couldn't resist his needs and immediately placed his hand on it.

When he touched it with his fingers, he felt a mixture of desire, pleasure, and madness. He couldn't resist and wanted to taste you too. You were, on the other hand, biting so hard on your lower lip until it's swollen. As you wait for his next move, one hand rests on the edge of the table, gripping the white cloth that was covered on it.

Sunwoo rests his palm below your stomach, his wedding ring cold on your skin. His other hand's thumb drawing circles on your folds. He hears your moans signaling him that pleasure is taking over your body. He smiles, pleased with your sounds. It was like music to him that he could play all day long.

His thumb continued making circular motions on your clit. Then he used his other hand to open the folds with his middle and pointer finger. His thoughts are so dirty right now. He was wondering how you're still so tight after penetrating you so many times now. It's a sight to behold.

Sunwoo's thoughts were so dark and so bad, his hands trembled as he caressed his wife's folds and teased your clit with small ministrations. All those fantasies that Sunwoo had in his mind, he was doing right now, on the dinner table. So exciting and so naughty, like his desire for you was overflowing.

Your breathy moans made Sunwoo even more excited, he really couldn't wait to taste you again, to smell you, and make you whimper under his touch. He wants to make all those fantasies into reality and make the love of his life feel good at the same time.

On the other end, you look up at the beautiful sky decorated with the moon and the stars. It feels so unreal and heavenly. Your arms reached out to the stars as if you could hold them. Suddenly, your back arched and your moans came out from the back of your throat. Your arm that was reached up to the sky is now grabbing your hair, and resting on your mouth as you bite that hand out of pleasure.

All your reactions were caused by Sunwoo who dives his nose on your folds to smell you, and gives one long strip of lick on it. He tasted you like you're an ice cream melting in his hands. Sunwoo swallowed your taste and brought two of his fingers inside his mouth to wet them. After wetting his middle and ring finger, he inserts it inside. Your toes curled out of pleasure the same time Sunwoo curled his fingers inside.

Sunwoo really couldn't contain his eagerness. His lips and nose were busy tasting his wife, while his hands were so eager to please, to touch, to caress. It's only a matter of time before he will give you the ultimate satisfaction.

"Your taste is so addictive… Hm… I can never forget this, my love." Sunwoo hums with a proud smile. He licked his fingers clean, there was a little bit of his saliva mixed with the taste of your arousal. That was really the tastiest thing Sunwoo ever had, he couldn't stop thinking of it.

Sunwoo then caressed the lips of your folds and inserted his fingers again to make you moan. He pushes them in and out like how his length works inside of you. You moan out of pleasure... At the same time, his slender fingers are not enough for your throbbing core. It was pleasurable, but you wanted more. However, you couldn't get words out of your mouth, only pretty sounds for Sunwoo.

Your reaction made Sunwoo even more aroused. He started licking and tasting your cunt again and again with his lips and tongue. He sucks and nibbles on it like you're a main dish from a hefty meal, it was like a forbidden fruit that he couldn't afford to miss or refuse.

Sunwoo was so obsessed with you, your taste, as well as your scent. He always thought you were like a delicious fruit, he could never get tired of tasting your nectar all day if he could. He wanted more, and more.

You couldn't contain yourself as well, with a voice stuck in your throat, body twitching so much, and legs trembling uncontrollably. Your voice was in between a moan, and your breathing was also unstable. Sunwoo's hand made you moan out loud, all you could do was surrender to Sunwoo that was too good for your liking. All the senses were already confused in a state called ecstasy, you felt like flying in that moment.

Not long after, when you were tortured and wet enough, he pulled his fingers out and licked them again. He swallowed all the taste, wetness, and scent... like his favorite meal.

Sunwoo wanted to taste more of you so he leaned down to eat you out again one last time, before doing the ultimate. But his peripheral vision caught the bottle of wine that rests on the dinner table. He scoffs shortly and a smirk crossed on his face. Dirty thoughts filled his mind.

"Honey, I want you to have a little drink. I made sure this wine is really good, you'll see." He grabbed the bottle of the top-class wine from the dinner table and poured it on the glass to offer it to you.

Sunwoo saw the look of excitement that he wanted. He was hoping that you would say "yes" to his invitation to try the wine he prepared especially for your supposedly romantic dinner. Then Sunwoo's plan will be complete.

Your eyes fluttered open upon hearing his voice speaking to you. You propped your elbows on the table to lift your torso up and look at him. You saw how Sunwoo was pouring the expensive wine on two of the wine glasses on the table. He's smirking.

"Come on, drink a little. I know you're curious about how this wine tastes." Sunwoo's eyes stared at you as you felt his hand caressing the back of her neck. You blushed a little, face full of sweetness and clearly excited. Without hesitation, you held out your hand and took the wine glass. You sniffed it first, your sense of smell is good.

The smell of the wine is promising. Its bitter smell mixed with the smell of a fruit, and it feels so romantic and luxurious. Sunwoo caressed your cheek with the back of his finger and offered you cheers. The wine glasses made a clang sound against each other then the two of you drank the red wine. At first you both took a small sip, and so many feelings rushed through your bodies. The sweet aftertaste lingered on your buds. This red wine really suits your preference and makes this moment even more romantic. You slowly finish your glass, and it was getting more and more delicious by the second you drank the wine. When you're done, you savor the aftertaste and let the alcohol be absorbed by your body and consciousness. Your eyes looked up at the sky.

Aside from the sensual moments you're having right now, you thought this is really romantic. Being touched by the warm sunset earlier, splashing with water, and now making love under the starry night sky. You suddenly thought if it would rain right now, would it be more romantic and sexy? You chuckled to yourself, getting lost from the thought and drunkenness.

Suddenly, you felt some liquid pouring on your skin. You surprisedly looked at the sight in front of you, Sunwoo was pouring the delicious red wine on your stomach down to your sensitive cunt. He has been watching you get lost in the sensation of alcohol sipping through your body.

You gasp at the sight, moaning out at the provocative gesture from Sunwoo. Your head feels dizzy because of this idea, the imagination of rain pouring down on the two of you, and the alcohol that had been absorbed by your body. Meanwhile, Sunwoo is elated by how you reacted. Satisfied at your reactions and turned on with what he's doing. He places down his wine glass and takes a seat on the chair. It seemed as if he's ready for another meal.

Your breathing became heavier because of the cold wine. Then you felt Sunwoo's thick tongue licking a long stripe on your folds. He closes his lips on your clit and sucks you... Tasting the bitter red wine from your sensitive area mixed with his saliva your salty wetness.

"Mmm, you taste so good..."

Your eyes were closed, too excited again to feel Sunwoo's lips and tongue, that sweet sensation made your moans get louder and higher like an orchestra. You couldn't control the feeling and had to let go, you had to surrender to this moment right now.

He was so turned on, his heartbeat sped up, all he wanted was to make you even more turned on, he didn't care what position he ended up in, even though it probably looked obscene.

Soon, his tongue prodded your entrance, licking your walls. You kept mewling, arm thrown over your eyes. The heavenly feeling controlling all of you. The knot in your stomach came undone, and your orgasm mixed with Sunwoo's saliva and some of the red wine dripped down your body. You heaved breathily.

Then the sound of the chair grazing the ground was heard. Sunwoo stood up, your legs suddenly wrapped around his neck. The position is so obscene that it turns him on and your still sensitive cunt clenched.

His long and hard member entered you painfully slowly, your body writhing with so much pleasure. You even felt it deep in your soul. Those sweet and warm moans made Sunwoo more aroused, even with that position he seemed to enjoy it so much. Then you took a slow and hard movement together, those soft sounds and the scent of your bodies mixed together made you feel so alive.

Your movements became quicker and more intense, moans synchronized like a harmony. The sound of skin making contact with skin rang in your ears while you felt like floating in heaven.

Meanwhile, your eyes became a little teary. You felt dizzy but good. Sunwoo made you see the stars as he pounded into you. Literally though, the stars in the night sky were displayed above you. With half-lidded eyes, you saw the stars in the sky... And as much as Sunwoo pounded your insides, you felt like floating and you could feel the sky getting close to you. You entered subspace. Sunwoo felt like he's in heaven too. His subspace makes him unaware of his pace. His speed voluntarily picks up, making your inner-thighs red and walls clenching tightly around his member. The glasses and vase on the table now rolling somewhere on the green ground.

You were so full of this moment, it was as if your soul had been set free that you couldn't feel anything but pleasure and extreme happiness. You were so overwhelmed and were already dreaming.

A knot in your stomach slowly forms. Sunwoo felt that you were close. He's happy upon knowing it. He continued his speed then he picked up the bottle of red wine again, opened it and leaned down. One of his hands propped on the table while the other poured wine on your breasts.

Your eyes flung open. While your legs are over Sunwoo's shoulders, you drop it down out of exhaustion but Sunwoo caught them on his arms so he's still spreading them out. It made the bottle of wine fall from Sunwoo's hands and the wine spilled on your chest. You wrapped your arms on Sunwoo's neck to give him a passionate kiss. You gave each other open-mouthed kisses as if devouring each other.

While you are feeling the pain and knots in your sweet spot, Sunwoo's kisses send ticklish senses to your body. His mouth went down on her chest, hands squeezing your breasts together to gather the wine that's pouring down your body. His lips closed on the bridge between the two mounds and he sipped the wine from there.

Your moans were getting louder as Sunwoo sucked the wine dry from your breasts. He sips the wine dry until only your skin can be touched by his tongue. He licks the skin and nibbles the flesh. It leaves red marks on your skin. Sure enough, it will turn purple and bruise you up.

With a loud thrust of his length touching your sweetest spot, you gasp for air. The knot slowly untied, your body shook and trembled, and your juices came leaking down. Sunwoo's seed meets yours. You moaned together as if in a musical. The feeling of the sticky liquid being mixed inside of you, and dripping where your bodies are connected felt so ticklish on your skin.

After your release, which you couldn't count anymore, your head nuzzled on the crook of Sunwoo's neck. You bit the skin between his neck and ear, giving a red mark too. You were panting, gasping, catching your breaths.

Sunwoo was in a frenzy, the way he moaned and groaned was not like someone who was in control of himself. His voice got to the point of screaming, his nails were in a rush to find and mark your skin while he pushed his body against you. Sunwoo's breath was so loud and so rapid, he was shaking so much, he couldn't even speak at this moment. The pleasure was just too great for both of you and it could only be explained as madness and euphoria.

As soon as you finished, the satisfaction felt like a relief. You couldn't control your feelings, your voice, even your breath. Your body trembled and your legs couldn't stop shaking. Sunwoo's body was the same, like in a dream, his body trembling, sweating, and panting hard. The two of you were exhausted after that. But satisfied.

You knew it was definitely worth it. Sunwoo remained silent with you for a few minutes. He closed his eyes because he felt dizzy, he couldn't explain what he felt at that moment. The feeling of being covered by his body and being held was very nice for you. You felt his arm gently hugging your upper body that kept unmoving from exhaustion.

You're in a more comfortable position, Sunwoo sitting on the chair in front of the dinner table and you being straddled on Sunwoo's lap. He's hugging your body and touching its curves. Your faces were so sweaty but became slightly relaxed. This moment was indeed very worth it for your body and soul. You were filled with such sweet feelings that made you unable to speak. You couldn't even move. As for Sunwoo, he just kept watching you as if he didn't want to leave this feeling of love, intimacy and ecstasy. Sunwoo smiles as he removes the wet hair from your sweaty forehead to the back of your ear. "You're so beautiful, my love." He suddenly compliments.

It was as if you were falling asleep in the arms of your beloved one because of how sweet and relaxing this moment had become. You could feel Sunwoo's hand gently caressing your back and face, especially on your cheeks, it felt warm.

The scent of wine mixed with the smell of sex is intoxicating. It flooded your senses. You felt as if staring at each other's faces stopped the time. You smiled softly at each other. "I love you." You told each other in sync. It made you burst into sweet laughter. Sunwoo laughed with you, realizing once again how much he adores you.

There was nothing to make the two of you uncomfortable. You were both in bliss, like there's nothing left to do but to enjoy these moments together. Sunwoo hugged you tight, he couldn't get enough of this closeness.

When it comes to Sunwoo, you seem like you lose control of your body. He is dominant and stern. But also very caring, sometimes rough. Whatever he does, you just give up control and offer yourself to him.

Little to your knowledge, Sunwoo is almost the same. The difference is that he wanted to dominate you most of the time. He loses control to be gentle, to keep himself from exploring you. He couldn't resist his wife's whole being.

Even in non-sensual moments like this, Sunwoo can't resist your cuteness. He always wants to take care of you. He always wants to be by your side. And you are overjoyed at the knowledge that your husband is so drawn into you.

"You deserve a good rest." Sunwoo tells you. His smile softens and it's pure. You nod and let him cover you up with the towel that he picked up again. Once he covers his lower body with the towel he got earlier, he carried you like a princess inside your warm and spacious vacation house and he takes care of you until you fall asleep in his embrace.

Oh, you're gonna be so sore in the morning.

#deoboyznet #the boyz sunwoo smut #kim sunwoo smut #tbz sunwoo smut #sunwoo smut #the boyz smut #tbz smut #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo scenarios #sunwoo fanfic #the boyz fanfic #sunwoo imagines #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #sunwoo hard hours #the boyz hard hours #kpop smut #kpop hard hours

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snowvies · 1 year

Text

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐜𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐜.𝐝

cedric diggory x fem!reader

"my white dress is getting wet, and your lips taste like vanilla..."

the heat was ruining you all summer.

bright rays the sun sent out through the window of the diggorys home blinding you as you slip your white summer dress on

the heat didn't even creep up on you as sweat stayed put on your pores and your face gave a sheen

as you made your way downstairs and heard pots and pans shifting, remembering the fact that you were going over to the Weasleys for lunch, making your way to the kitchen you saw Mrs.Diggory taking that opportunity as she washed the dishes

you leaned your head against the doorway and closed your eyes and let the cold fan run over you, just for a colder hand to be placed on your shoulder.

you melted into it as your eyes dizzily opened to see Cedric. he grinned, leaning down to kiss you as his mom scolded him

"help me out with these dishes, Ced." she sighed, wiping her hands on a rag as Cedric moved towards the sink without hesitation

"So.." you start,

"Do the Weasleys have a pool by any chance?" you question, slightly begging for a yes, jumping into cold water sounds like a dream right now.

you got a sympathetic smile from Cedrics' mother as she shook her head

"afraid not, but there's a lake close to their home...sure that's about as hot as the air though."

you almost winced at her answer, closing your eyes again as the sticky heat molded to your body

"Is it..." you heard Cedrics voice question, your eyes shot open and saw his squinting in front of the kitchen window above the sink

"raining?"

you gasped, running over to him as you poked your head to see for yourself. blue sky foggy and the grass lush as rain sprinkled everywhere, you let a surprised laugh escape your lips and rushed outside with Cedrics' hand in yours

you giggled when the warm rain met your skin, the humidity dying down as the thin rain coated you and the sky was no longer golden but a deep blue

you ran in the slippery grass as it relished in the drink just as much as you did, you turned to pull Cedric closer as the grin never left both of your lips

you moved to lock your lips together as the taste of vanilla flooded your tongue, your fingers slid easily on his hair to bring him closer as the summer blessed you with rain.

an: the heat has been killing me! making this for my imaginary relief!

#cedric diggory fanfiction #cedric diggory x you #cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory imagine #cedric diggory fluff #harry potter series #hp fanfcition #harry potter fandom

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waklman · 1 year

Text

The Showoff

summary: jake likes to show you off or you learn why jake keeps protein bars he’s allergic to in his bag.

pairing: jake seresin x female reader

warnings: no use of y/n. fluff, allergic reaction, mentions of dying, jake being a little mean for a second. 18+ blog in general.

word count: 1k

olympic swimmer au

the halfway mark masterlist

Jake Seresin had virtually every reason to be a show off.

The moment his muscled body hit the water, he was truly unmatched—a force to be reckoned with—a smug face you wouldn’t want to see stretching in the lane beside you. If his name merely floated into the ears of elite coaches, the rival teams they managed were in for it on training days. But no matter how many grueling drills their swimmers were pushed to do, they could never truly emerge as a threat to the United States team.

So, the heavily decorated athlete never faltered, not when he knew his country dominated every arena they strode into.

However, Jake did falter when he was too busy boasting, that he didn't think to check the peanut butter protein bar that his giggly girlfriend was happily feeding him. There weren’t many things that could render the Olympiad breathless, though, you wearing his gold medals did, that was a given. But, peanuts—his worst food allergy to date, that was also a given.

Before Jake could tell you how his coach had no critique for his freestyle stroke, the walls of his throat started to close in on him—leaving him quite literally breathless.

To his disbelief, you were so distraught that you had to stab your boyfriend with an EpiPen, that your mind simply erased the memory of you coming to his rescue.

Even when he spent half an hour swiping away the fattest tears he’s ever seen off your cheeks, you were still adamant that you most definitely killed him. That he refused to move onto the afterlife because he wanted to look after you.

“Giggles, you need to calm down. I’m not dead,” he firmly assures you, for what feels like, the hundredth time this afternoon.

If Jake had to sit on the edge of the pool any longer, legs submerged into the water, his toes might as well shrivel off, separate from his feet, and find its final resting place on the pool floor.

Straddled on his lap sits his teary-eyed girlfriend, tracing a trembling finger over the Olympic rings tattooed under his left pec. “What if…you’re just a ghost right now,” you hiccup, eyes still trained on the red ink you’re drawing over.

“If I was a ghost I’d be haunting Bradshaw right about now,” he confirms bluntly, eyes running over your stuffy nose and puffy eyes. It looks like you’re the one that just had an allergic reaction.

You sniff, feeling a bit lightheaded when you lift your chin to look at him.

“But…Casper the ghost—”

“Alright, that’s enough. I ain’t getting myself compared to that pale freak,” he cuts you off, pulling his arena jacket back up your droopy shoulders. Splashed across the back of the official team jacket is Jake Seresin written in white blocky letters, contrasting against the navy blue of his flag colors.

A weary sigh leaves his lips when the reprimand only makes you weakly fall forward, stuffing your face into the crook of his neck. Then, another flow of tears slip out of your eyes, wetting his shoulder.

It should’ve been obvious to him that you were sensitive enough to start crying again. Jake should’ve known that—should’ve watched his tone with you. But he didn’t. And for that, he feels like a complete asshole.

Carefully, he wraps an arm around you, bicep flexing to ensure that you won’t fall backwards into the pool. Jake is acutely aware that you can’t swim—or float on your own, so he scoots away from the water, petting the back of your head to signal the sudden movement.

“It wasn’t your fault, Gigs,” he finally whispers, staring ahead at the floating ropes, separating the swim lanes. Months ago, Jake had been hanging onto one of them, playfully arguing with Bradshaw during practice when he spotted you for the first time, sitting in the stands with the coach’s daughter, peanut butter protein bar held up to your smiley mouth.

“Yes it was. It's all my fault. I packed your lunch today,” you’re quick to blame yourself, mumbling guiltily against his tan skin.

“Actually,” he lets out a soft breath of amusement, coaxing you off him. With his hands moving to cradle your head, Jake intently cools your hot cheeks with his thumbs. Somehow, they're still cold from the frigid waters soaking his legs.

“I might have snuck those into my bag when you were busy adding Taylor Swift to my playlist,” he confesses, pulling your face closer in to kiss away a tear that formed in the corner of your eye.

Not quite sure if you heard those words right, you keep still as he leans back and cocks his head at you, waiting for a reaction to load in.

Once it all hits you, you slap your own hands on his cheeks, holding his head between your smaller palms. Now the both of you are grabbing onto eachother's heads. “Why on earth would you do that!”

There’s not one plausible reason for him to purposefully toss that in with his ham and cheese sandwich. Did he not like what you made for him today? Was that it? Or did it just slip his mind that peanut dust could take him out faster than a bullet can?

“You’re—you’re allergic to peanuts! And you hate the chalky taste of protein bars!” You exhaustedly remind him, more confused than ever.

There’s a crooked, and somewhat bashful smile on his face when you widen your eyes at him. Sheer horror is written across your features, leaving you oblivious to the gradual heat that colors his cheeks.

“Okay, but. Don’t you like them? I wasn’t gonna let my girl starve while I ate like a king,” he gives you a offhanded shrug, as if he wasn’t practically contaminating his own food by squeezing the protein bar next to it.

It’s silent for a few seconds while you two stare at each other—until your face suddenly scrunches up, bottom lip starting to wobble, and tears beginning to drip onto his thigh.

You can't help but to cry at the small gesture. Because Jake knows how much you love snacking on something he was deathly allergic to. Because Jake loves you enough to remember that. Because Jake doesn't care if it could hospitalize him if he kissed you while you ate it.

“No, no—hey quit crying,” he laughs, chest warming when you weep tears of happiness this time.

The athlete barely flinches when a confused Bradley and Bob walk through the locker room doors, clearly confused by the sight of their teammate chuckling as his girlfriend sobs in his lap, blubbering about peanuts.

All because, Jake Seresin likes to show off his pretty girlfriend—pathetically drowning in her own tears or not. When he goes to kiss the tears away again, Jake thinks that he has virtually every reason to be a show off.

note: okay i love them so much, i've been wanting a grumpy jake x sunshine reader on my blog for awhile so here they are!! thank you for reading and as always reblogs are greatly appreciated.

join the taglist for this series here or follow me on @waklman-library and turn on notifs to be notified when i post!

tags: @genius2050 @eli2447 @s-u-t @dempy @averyhotchner @et-homephone @olymosity @wkndwlff @cruelmissdior @eternallyvenus @laneylovesglen @queerqueenlynn

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin au #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin oneshot #jake hangman x you #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x y/n #jake hangman fic #jake hangman imagine #tgm au #tgm fic #the halfway mark

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pileofmush · 9 months

Text

the sun still rises ☼

pairing ➸ monkey d. luffy x fem!reader

synopsis ➸ luffy catches something in the water. it's a girl, to his dismay. not a fish.

details ➸ tags: pt. i, angst, introspection // cw: very much a vent fic, near-death experience, struggles with mental health, i gave reader a name bc i can, an attempt at prose // wc: 1.4k // series m.list

Water crashes against a rocky shore. It whispers; it sings. Rising and rolling, the water recedes; it warns.

A thud. Feeble knees collapse into wet sand. Salt lingers on your tongue, though you’ve scrubbed your mouth three times now. You choke on the grains still lodged in your throat. Blink the sand out of your eyes.

Alive. You’re alive, you think to yourself. Your cruddy boat is gone, washed away somewhere. But you remain—alive. And the sun still rises and the world still spins.

Not that the world would have stopped spinning had you died. Not when death makes the world go round. Still, the sun rises. Still, the ocean’s tide sings. The tide drapes over you, blocking out the sky. Perhaps you should have fled, when you had the chance. But you didn’t-- you don't, and the wave crashes over you as consequence. You are moved. Moved by the wave; moved by the weight of your circumstances. No one prepared you for this. Your mother didn’t dole out this particular lesson in her long spiels about the meaning of life. And now, she will never speak again.

Mother leapt.

Mother crashed.

Like waves against a rocky shore.

If only you could take on the attributes of the sea. The sea knows no god. She does what she wishes. But you? You bend. Bend to the will of those who want harder than you. Bend to the magnificent wave’s power as it drags you back, back into the godless sea. You are nothing, in comparison. Flotsam.

You don’t want. But there are things that you don’t want.

For instance: you don’t want to return to your mother.

Oh, you thought that you did. You thought a lot of things. You once thought your mother believed in the hollow words she said. She didn’t. You once thought dying would be easy.

It isn’t.

Dying burns. Like the burning in your lungs. It takes, and it consumes, until there is nothing left of you but a mound of ash.

And, dying squeezes. Squeezes you out like a dirty dish rag, until out spills every morsel of fear, frustration, desire and hope that once existed inside your fleshy body. And, there you are. Your essence, pooled into the ocean for all to see. And in your last few moments, you are left to wonder, perhaps I did exist; perhaps I should have lived.

You inhale. You don’t want to die. There has to be more to life than drowning in the waters of a strange island, strange ocean, stranger world. Saltwater fills your lungs as you begin to mourn the life you never lived.

Dying, you find, is a color. A deep, solemn purple. The color of a fresh bruise; the color of your mother’s wine; the color of regret.

Cupped hands cut through water, frantic, as you try to rise; as your head spins. Above the waterline, above your flailing body, the wind howls. It warned you, you know. The ocean warned you. And now the wind howls, though the wail doesn’t quite reach your ears. Not over the deep blue croon of the ocean, and your own pained gurgles.

You can’t think, any longer. Only feel.

Feel your fingertips just barely breach the surface. Feel your legs kick with a renewed sense of urgency. Feel the sudden intake of air—sweet, glorious air rushing through your body—almost too much, but not even close to being enough. Feel the hands that wrap around your torso like a lasso, firm and sort of rubbery. Feel your body fling through the air, and your stomach lurch, before you collide into a person.

It knocks the breath out your lungs, and you choke, for a second time.

The same hand that deftly plucked you out the ocean whacks your back, while the other keeps you upright. You would wave your savior off if you had the energy. You possess no devil powers—you dare not make a foe of nature itself—yet the ocean saps your strength, anyway. Takes what little you have left to claim, like she took away your mother.

You’ve yet to open your eyes, but you can reason you’re on a ship. You can hear the calls of a woman over the song of the wailing sea, preparing the ship for docking in the middle of a thrashing storm. You hear the grunts of men, and the flapping of wind-beaten sails, and the stamping of several feet, scurrying across a wooden deck.

When you’re finally done hacking your lungs, the savior makes to set you down. Your knees buckle.

“Woah there,” you hear them exclaim, then let out a boyish laugh. The stranger hoists you up by your arm pits, like you’re a drenched cat. “You’re not a fish!”

This is true.

You blink the water out of your eyes. In front of you: a boy. Just a boy with a wide, proud grin, and a curved scar underneath his eye. A yellow straw hat hangs from his neck.

You cough up water as a greeting.

You know of this strange, savior boy. He belongs on fading, brown parchment above big, bold letters—Wanted; Dead or Alive—his toothy grin immortalized on the bulletin board outside the pub back home. But he isn’t just any old criminal. No, this boy is far worse. For he looks at the expansive blue sea—godless, boundless—and has the gumption to declare it his playing field.

He looks at what the world has to offer him with wide, peering eyes, and yet, he is still not satisfied. Surely, the world has more to give. Surely, it has more to take. That’s what he does, and it’s what he will continue to do: take and take until he’s had his fill.

He’s a pirate, after all.

The boy sets you down on the deck and you are finally centered—reunited, at last, with the ground. He’s kind of awkward looking: gangly and disheveled and bright, but his carefree countenance wraps it altogether and ties it in a messy red bow. He tilts his head at a 90 degree angle and stares at you point-blank, thin black brows furrowed in confusion.

“If you’re not a fish, what’re ya doing in the middle of the ocean?” he asks bluntly. Like you could help getting swept up in the current of Mother Nature. Like his crew mates aren’t currently scrambling to safely dock this ship.

Your voice sounds strangled when you speak, words getting caught in your throat and roughly tumbling out of your mouth. “Drowning. I was drowning,” you manage to say.

The rocking of the ship you’re on is not kind to you. Hunched over, your hands brace against your knees as you huff. Your fingers are pruned grapes, wrinkled and trembling.

“That’s dumb,” the boy tells you. “Just swim next time.”

Maybe he has a point.

You look to the sky. It’s a deep, foreboding gray, pregnant dark clouds looming above and promising rain. Somewhere, you register, behind the clouds… is the sun. It’ll set, yes, and plunge the realm into night, but by dawn it will rise again. And the world will spin.

“Who’re you then, if you’re not a fish?” The boy draws you back to him, demanding your attention. His eyes are dark as coal, round with open curiosity. You burn under his gaze; greedy and intense.

Your back straightens. “I’m Yuna.”

“Like Tuna?” he questions.

“Just Yuna.”

He accepts your answer with a swift jerk of his head and a slight pout. In the distance, you can hear the woman from before calling the the ship to anchor. One of the men—this one has a slender frame and long, long legs—leaves the helm and drops an anchor to the ocean floor.

Your gaze flickers back to the boy who saved your life. “I’m Luffy! Monkey D. Luffy,” he introduces himself, then reaches for his straw hat to place atop his head. A red ribbon wraps around the base.

Things make sense when the hat is on, you think to yourself. He makes sense.

“Remember that,” he demands and jabs a thumb towards his chest, something like passion lighting his coal eyes aflame. “You’re talkin’ to the future king of the pirates.”

As if the heavens already bow to him, this future king, it begins to rain. He pulls off his hat and looks up. Water droplets kiss tawny skin. They roll from his cheeks, to his chin, down the curve of his neck.

Rain, your mother liked to say, is good luck. Fathers renewal. Change.

You hope she’s right.

#mushy writes .𖥔 ݁ ˖#luffy x reader #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #monkey d. luffy #one piece #m.monkey d. luffy #m.luffy #m.op #tw: angst #battle scarred;

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simpforboys · 1 year

Text

PILLOWTALK

jake sully x fem!omatikaya!reader

summary: you and jake mate… that’s basically it (like this is fr just smut)

warnings: smut, jake’s filthy mouth, praise/degradation kink, oral (m + f receiving), 69 position, ass slapping, cock warming

i’m having jake brainrot recently and i think i just ultimately need to sit on his face so (also i made the gif :3)

his hands were everywhere.

everywhere they could go, they were there. the feeling was erotic as you bit your lip, feeling his own lips trail down to your neck.

“jake-“ you gasped out, slightly pushing his shoulders back to recollect him. breathlessly, his lust-filled eyes blinked at you.

quickly, you grabbed your queue and held it up. the man soon got the hint and grabbed his own, both of you making tsaheylu.

the feeling made his ears falter as he closed his eyes, arousal pooling on your loincloth as he let out a small whimper.

“we are mated for life, ma jake.”

your words flicked a switch inside of him, a primal one to mark you as his to the whole clan.

his hands grabbed at your thighs, pulling you into his lap as he was desperate to touch you, to please you.

your hips directly on his, you could feel something poking your clit. your heart skipped a beat as your breath hitched, nails digging into his muscled biceps.

“i need you so bad, please-“ you pleaded. the affection and intimacy was all foreign, a feeling you’ve craved for a long time.

you heard jake swear under his breath, placing his hands on your butt as he laid down, flipping you around so your ass was above his face.

you gasped from the sudden movement, both your tails wagging in anticipation and excitement.

you felt his hands untie your loincloth, exposing your dripping cunt. he watched your clit throb, making him swear out, “fucking hell, y/n.”

his voice was raspy as you untied his own cloth, his fat, lengthy cock springing out. you hadn’t noticed your mouth started watering, too awed by the sight of his member.

“come on, baby.” jake said, wrapping his arms around your ass and pushing you onto his mouth. his hold was firm, letting you know you couldn’t escape even if you wanted to.

you purred out, feeling his tongue lap at your clit. in return, you placed your hand on the base of his blue cock. big purple veins coerced through his cock, and you anticipated feeling his cum down your throat.

you placed your mouth around his mushroom tip, feeling the pre cum ooze out. you watched his balls tense up as you moved to fondle them, his hips bucking as you took him further into your mouth.

you were pleasing him so well, jake decided to turn it into a competition. he sucked harshly on your clit, humming to cause a vibration. you moaned around his cock, rocking your hips subconsciously.

“that’s a good girl, bounce that pretty ass on my face.” jake said, using his large palm to slap your right cheek.

the fire-y sensation caused you to clench around nothing. while jake saw your clench, he stuck his middle and pointer finger inside the soaked hole.

you mewled at his touch, lowering your head until your nose touched his balls. you felt him twitch as hot cum sprayed in your mouth, making you gag from the unexpected liquid.

jake hadn’t had a blowjob in years, as earth was dying and he was shipped off to pandora. he didn’t want to cum that fast, but the way your tight throat felt, he couldn’t help it.

you smirked as you took your lips off his cock, continuing to jerk the base as more cum spurt out. “oh, fuck…”

the focus of getting him off was soon gone, causing you to relish the feelings he was making you feel.

you gripped his thighs, leaning up as you rode his face. he continued to hum on your clit, using his fingers to fuck into you quick.

“oh great mother,” you cursed. your vision became starry as the bright pinks, purples, and blues soon blurred into one as you came on his face.

you weren’t aware of your shaking legs as you used your mate for support, feeling him slurp up your cum.

“my fucking slut, did i say you can come?” jake asked, slapping your ass once more.

“no, ma jake-“ you breathed out, feeling him slip out from under you. you collapsed onto the ground, your back hitting the grass.

jake’s muscled frame was illuminated by the tree of voices, his hair a mess as his queue was still connected with yours.

your pussy seemed to come alive once more at the sight of his body, looking like eywa sculpted it herself.

“please, ma jake, i need you.”

“need me where?” he teased, pumping his throbbing cock. his bright yellow eyes roamed your body, taking everything like he was studying a map.

“please! jake i need you to fuck me,” in any other setting, you would be ashamed to be begging so hard for a man.

but the way your pussy ached attention and the way your mate smirked at you, you couldn’t care less.

“‘atta girl.” jake purred, guiding his cock into your pussy. you both gasped from the feeling, and you clenched around him as he whimpered in your ear.

“such a warm little pussy- if i knew this is what you felt like-“

the man didn’t get to finish as you were tired of the slowness of his hips. you began fucking back up into him, craving his cock deep in your cervix.

“does my whore want my cock that badly? what a desperate fucking thing.” he almost laughed at your eagerness, but his ears twitched as you moaned his name.

heat formed in his stomach as he fucked you quickly, his hips snapping against your thighs.

“right there, ma jake,” you breathed out. your hands grabbed his flexing biceps as you realize his head was down, watching where your two bodies became one.

his cock perfectly pounded against your g spot, causing your tail to wrap around his thigh to try and get him deeper.

“you’re so needy,” he said in your ear, an underlying purr in his voice.

“my mate fucks me too good.” you said in a hushed voice. you didn’t fail to see the smirk that tugged on his lips from your words.

“who’s pussy does this belong to? hmm?” he continued to tempt you, loving the way you clenched around his thick cock.

you wrongfully said nothing, too deep in euphoria as he rubbed your clit with his thumb.

jake let out a small growl, pulling out of your pussy. your eyes snapped open at the loss of contact.

“i asked you a question, pretty girl.”

“you, jake.”

“say it again.” he said harshly, shoving back deep into you. you moaned loudly, staring into his predatory eyes.

“my pussy belongs to you, jake!” you moaned out, feeling him rub your clit. your legs shook as they wrapped around his hips, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“never fucking forget who you belong to, whore.” he spat in your ear.

the pleasure was making the knot in your lower stomach want to explode. you were completely ruined for him, exactly how he wanted you to be.

“can i cum? please-“ you asked, a whine in your pretty voice.

“hmmm… no.”

you growled at his answer, eyes snapping open to which he let out a breathy chuckle at.

“please, ma jake. i need to cum on your cock.”

jake slapped your ass again, feeling his cock twitch and balls tighten.

“come on, baby. cum on this dick.”

your body shook as a powerful orgasm consumed you, making you out of it for fifteen seconds.

jake whimpered softly at the convulsing, his own cum spurting into your cervix. his hips were pressed firmly to your thighs, staying there as you milked his cock for all he was worth.

jake leaned over, pushing your hair out of your face as he pressed kisses to your lips.

“such a good girl, y/n. my good girl.”

you breathed out deeply, feeling him trap your body as he laid on your chest. his hard cock was still in you, but you were much too tired to care.

“i love you, ma jake.”

“i love you, y/n.”

you felt him kiss the space between your breasts, and soft purrs were heard shortly after as he fell asleep. his strong arms were wrapped around your body, not ever wanting to let you go.

you stared up at the tree of voices for a minute, silently thanking eywa for bringing this man to you.

never would you believe that you would fall for a dream walker, but jake was different. and as you closed your eyes, taking in the moment one more time, you wouldn’t have chosen anyone else after jake. he was your mate, your other half.

#simpforboys #avatar #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #jake sully #jake sully avatar #jake sully x na'vi reader #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x you #jake sully x omaticaya!reader #jake sully fluff #jake sully angst #jake sully is a dilf #avatar 2009 #avatar 2022 #avatar jake sully

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revrover · 1 year

Text

The Stranger - Pt. 3

Part One | Part Two

Pairing: Namor x Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Language, Violence, Depictions of drowning, Fluff

Summary: Delivered to safety following the battle on the beach, you are left reeling as you grapple with nightmares and questions about an uncertain future. But as you come to know more about the Talokanil people and grow closer to their king, Namor is faced with a question of his own -- what does he do with this stranger from the surface?

A/N: It’s heeeeeere!! As always, thank you so much for your patience, for being here, and for reading! And a BIG thank you just for taking the time to engage with and be a part of this story. You all have been so encouraging to me as new writer, and I love being able to create something around characters that so many hold so dear. Comments and reblogs make my heart happy, so please show some love, share the joy, and be kind!

***I do not give permission to copy, plagiarize, or repost my work as your own in any form!

Bullets fly as bodies hit the ground in front of you. There on the open beach, spears soar high above your head. Your gaze is drawn to the heavens as a chopper falls from the night sky. It crashes onto the shore below, an intense heat flashing against you as you shield your face from the explosion.

Suddenly, the sounds of dying men and burning metal fade as you lower your hand. You look down to find yourself waist-deep in a raging sea, the battle on the sand becoming a distant memory as waves beat harshly against you, unrelenting and unforgiving. A deafening melody accompanies each swell of the tide. It consumes your mind with pain and serenity as you are pulled further out into the ocean’s depths, following its call. The chorus grows louder as the water rises to your chest, building with intensity. Then, suddenly, all is quiet.

And there he is.

Hovering just above the water’s surface, his winged ankles carry him effortlessly. His reflection glistens perfectly against the water, now calm and smooth as glass. Illuminated by the full moon behind him, his body is covered in beautiful armor made of gold, jade, and other metals. A finely crafted serpent headpiece with bright feathers crowns his head, resting just above his brow.

Namor.

Wordlessly, Namor stretches out his hand, beckoning you to come to him. You reach out as if your very being is at his command. But, before you can grasp hold of him, the chorus of voices returns with a vengeance. A violent tide drags you under, swallowing you beneath the waves. Further and further down you are pulled as darkness surrounds you. Looking up toward the fading light, Namor’s silhouette above the surface dissolves from view. Your lungs burn as you begin to drown.

You jolt awake, your body shooting up in a cold sweat.

Chest heaving, your mind desperately claws its way back to reality. You quickly scan your surroundings, clinging to any detail that will anchor your consciousness and keep you from slipping back into that nightmare.

Gripping the stone surface beneath you, you take in every porous curve your fingertips graze over. Looking upward at the high rocky ceiling, you study the patterns of limestone stalactites that hang like icicles. Droplets of water run down a few of them, their melodious drips echoing in small pools below, falling like a gentle, rhythmic rain.

This is the place Namor had spoken of the last time you saw him. The one where he promised you would be safe. And for good reason — here in this cavern, you were well below the ocean’s surface and out of range of any agents who might come searching for you.

By your best guess, you figure you have been down here about two days. It’s hard to be sure without the reference to natural light. The cavern itself is beautiful, though. Illuminated by pockets of glow worms that drape down from the ceiling, their soft luminescence casts gorgeous green and blue hues across each surface their light touches.

As your heart rate begins to even out, you continue to survey the cave. You look over at your belongings, bag laying on the ground, clothes hanging on a line to dry. Your heart drops a bit when you see your little leather-bound book, its pages separated and spread out across the rocks. Ink bleeding. Pages ruined. You had made your best attempt to salvage what you could. Perhaps if you had asked Namora how the two of you would be traveling to this safe haven, you wouldn’t have brought a damn book with you.

The dissonance of the Talokan melody still rings in the back of your mind. You cradle your head between your knees, rubbing your temples with your thumbs when you hear light footsteps approach.

Looking up, you find a familiar face entering the cavern. No longer geared up for battle, Namora dawns a lovely dress that gathers over one shoulder and flows down to the floor. It moves like waves with each step she takes toward you. Instead of a spear in her hand, she now carries a small tray with a medley of food.

“Eat," Namora says, placing the tray on a small end table beside you. She then moves gracefully over to your draped belongings, removing them one by one from the line and folding them into a neat pile.

“Can I ask you a question?” You inquire as you begin to nibble on a piece of food.

Namora shoots a skeptical look over her shoulder but says nothing, so you ask anyway.

“Have you always been a warrior?”

Unresponsive, she keeps her attention on one of your shirts which she has just pulled from the line, tucking it into itself and placing it with the others.

“It's just, I mean the way you fought those agents on the beach, you are — you are very good at, you know—” you should have given more thought to what you were going to say before opening your mouth because as you reach the end of your sentence all that comes out is, “—killing people."

Nice.

You cringe at your comment. It hangs in the air, practically mocking you.

“I’m just saying," you add, trying to recover, "you obviously know what you’re doing. It was impressive. Me on the other hand…” Your voice trails as you raise your bandaged hand, recalling how your first instinct in a fight was to block a fucking knife with your open palm. Next to Namora, your combat skills pale by comparison.

Halting her task, Namora finally turns to face you in one calculated motion. She stares for a moment then her eyes quickly dart toward the side entrance of the cavern where she had come through only minutes ago. The entryway is empty. When her eyes settle back on you, there is resolve in them.

“Up.” She says, walking toward you with purpose.

“What?” You reply in a tone that matches the confused look on your face.

“Up.”

You do as you are told, hastily pushing yourself to your feet. Namora steps in close and then taps your elbows.

“Up.” She orders a third time, only now she seems to be referring specifically to your arms. You follow her instruction, raising them awkwardly out in front of your body. You can almost hear the sigh of hopelessness when Namora, her brow furrowed, grabs your arms and positions each one in a fighting stance. Slipping a hand up to your left wrist, she grips it firmly while tapping your exposed forearm with the palm of her other hand.

“Shield.” She says with emphasis. Her eyebrows raise, looking for any indication that you comprehend what she is trying to explain. When you nod, Namora moves her hand from your wrist up to your fingers, balling them into a fist and tucking your thumb on the outside.

“Weapon.”

Namora then steps back from you, putting her own arms up to mirror your stance.

“Shield, weapon,” she repeats, patting her forearm and waving her closed fist.

“Shield, weapon,” you echo back to her, nodding your head again as you begin to understand more fully.

Just as she begins to step back toward you, a deep voice calls from behind.

“Namora.”

You both look up to see the large man who wears the hammerhead skull standing in the entry of the cavern. Attuma is his name, as you have come to learn. Namora straightens her posture as she turns to face him, her hands behind her back as she squares her shoulders in a commanding stance.

Attuma saunters a few more feet into the cavern, then speaks to her in their native tongue, a language still unfamiliar to you. The two of them converse back and forth for a few moments. You may not know what they are saying, but you can tell they disagree about something — whether with each other or someone else, you are not sure.

Namora swiftly turns back to you, her face serious again and her brows pinched together.

Fighting lessons must be over.

“Come,” she says.

Without any further instruction, she pivots back toward Attuma, who also turns to leave. You quickly grab your belongings which Namora had folded for you, stuffing them into your bag. You sling it around your shoulder as you exit the cavern.

Following the two generals into a tunneled hallway, you find yourself moving through a network of caves, each tunnel connecting to a series of other openings and pools. Soon, Attuma splits off into one of these open caverns, nodding to Namora as he does so. Your eyes trail him as he joins with more Talokan warriors, and just as you stare at them, they stare at you.

You continue walking behind Namora past them, their whispers reverberating through the tunnels.

“When was the last time someone… not Talokanil came here?” You ask. In typical Namora fashion, she remains silent and unresponsive to your question.

“Sorry,” you say apologetically, “back there it just seemed like they hadn’t seen someone new in a while.”

The two of you walk, furthering yourself from the turnoff where Attuma parted ways. Cautiously, you step around the uneven surfaces of the rocky ground. You can feel yourself being led deeper into the maze of caverns. If Namora decided to up and ditch you right now, you are certain you would be lost in this labyrinth forever.

“You are the first,” Namora says rather abruptly, catching you off guard. Not only does her response come well after your question was asked, but it is also the most she has ever said to you at one given time.

“The first?” You ask, perplexed. “What do you mean?”

“To come here,” Namora answers. “The first surface dweller to receive Talokan’s aid. The first the king has ever…” she pauses a moment, searching for the right word, “tolerated.”

The influx of her voice is not lost on you.

“And you don’t approve?”

“It is not my place to approve, " Namora clarifies as she leads you around a bend and past several open pools of water. "I am… concerned. When it comes to you, I fear he is blind.”

Silence befalls you both again as you enter another cavern, this one much larger and more spacious than any others you have seen. Within it are several large pools, glistening with light reflected from more glow worms above. Their tendrils hang from the high vaulted ceiling like sparkling chandeliers.

In the center of it all stands a large hut enclosed by beautifully woven fabrics. You follow Namora shoulder to shoulder up the stone-carved steps to it until you nearly reach the side.

“We’re here,” Namora says, coming to a dead stop. She then takes a step back from you.

Still unsure of where “here” is exactly, you glance over your shoulder, looking to her for further instruction or explanation. But Namora gives you nothing. The moment you begin to take a step backward as well, her hand shoots out, holding the back of your shoulder in position with a firm grip.

Ah. Don't move. Got it.

Subconsciously you begin to hold your breath, bracing yourself for the unknown.

Then, there he is.

From around the corner of the hut comes Namor. Immediately you are taken aback by his appearance. Up to this point, you have only seen him suited for battle. Now he stands before you dawning a beautifully woven cape plated with gold and draped across his broad shoulders. His hair is slicked back and his arms are adorned with various metal cuffs. Truly a wardrobe fit for a king.

A single nod of his head and Namora is dismissed. You hear her small footsteps fade as she leaves the two of you alone.

“How is your hand?”

Namor’s question snaps you out of your daze.

“Oh,” you raise your hand, glancing at the worn bandage. "It’s fine, thank you.”

Staring at the gauze, you can almost hear the lullaby Namor hummed as he gently tended to your wounded palm the night of the battle. Something flutters inside you as you touch the corner of the fabric. Realizing your mind has drifted again, you bring yourself back to reality by following up with your own question.

"Are we in..." you stop to rephrase, shifting your weight from side to side as you look around the cavern, “Is this… Talokan?"

If it is, it's very different from what you pictured.

Your question brings a smile to Namor’s face.

"No," he answers with a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. "Talokan is far beyond this place. I assure you, your body would not survive the journey to its depths. But these caverns are safe, I promise you.”

Namor then shifts the topic of conversation.

“I am told some of your belongings were ruined on your traveling here, including your book. I apologize. I had hoped to make up for it.”

With one arm, Namor ushers you around the corner to the entrance of his quarters, inviting you inside.

Intrigued and eager to see what awaits, you accept his invitation. As you enter, you find yourself in a study of sorts. Lit by several lanterns, the room is warm and bright. Within it sits a small table, a prominent desk full of scrolls and artifacts, and a cozy hammock hung in the corner. But what catches your eye most of all are the walls.

All around you hang gorgeous tapestry walls with breathtaking murals that stretch from floor to ceiling.

“Did you do all of these?” You ask in disbelief as you move to one at the far end of the room. Your eyes widen as you gaze in admiration at the beautiful artistry.

“Yes,” Namor answers humbly, following behind you. “I think you will find a more accurate depiction of my history here.”

“I don’t know,” you say with playful skepticism in your voice as you inspect the artwork closer, “always be weary of your authors, right?” You smirk as you shift your glance sideways to Namor, echoing his words back to him in jest. His face is serious at first but quickly turns to amusement.

“You remembered,” he says nodding his head, an impressed grin now stretching at the corners of his mouth, “that is good.”

You return your attention to the paintings. What a gift it is to be standing here in front of them. Full of stories, full of history. And to be accompanied by the man who created them himself — who lived them himself. It is all a far cry from the vague glyphs you tried so hard to decipher in your book.

"They're amazing." You say in awe, following along the panels as you trace the line work delicately with your fingertip.

Immersed in the murals, you are too busy to notice Namor's softening gaze as he watches you study his work so intently. Here you are, an outsider who he has welcomed into his space. It is not like him to be so open, especially not with a stranger from the surface — never someone from the surface — yet, something about you causes a stirring inside of him. Perhaps it is your enthusiasm and wonders for his culture or your refreshing dose of humanity towards his people that compels his desire to be close to you.

As you follow the artwork from panel to panel across the walls, you arrive at a scene that suddenly makes you freeze. Your wrist snaps your finger back as if repelled by the paint itself. In front of you is a large image of Namor dawning a serpent headpiece as he hovers above the water. You are immediately back in your nightmare, your mind flashing to Namor’s outstretched hand then the darkness that closes in around you as you start to drown. You can almost feel the fire in your lungs as they grow desperate for air.

“What troubles you?” Namor asks with genuine traces of concern in his voice. Your sudden silence has not gone unnoticed. He moves to stand shoulder to shoulder with you now, looking up to analyze the same part of the mural.

"Nothing," you lie, shaking your head while your hand drops to your side. You withdraw from the painting, taking a few steps back from it and Namor.

“Your people," you say to change the subject, pointing your thumb to the rest of the artwork in the room, "they honor you. It's admirable, what you've done for them. To keep them safe all this time."

“But?” He senses there is more on your mind.

You stare at him, then turn your focus back to the tapestries surrounding you. Scanning them from wall to wall, you notice a pattern in the stories shown.

“It’s just,” you begin with uncertainty in your voice “for someone who has spent his whole life bringing peace to his people, I wonder how much of it you have experienced for yourself?”

Namor is quiet for a moment.

"And why do you wonder this?" He finally replies, turning to face you fully.

“I guess I look at these and I’m curious… how? How can you do that without completely breaking under the weight of it all? Even with—” you begin gesturing to his body and suddenly become desperate to come up with the right words in time, “superhuman strength.” Thank god.

“Hmmm,” Namor exhales, thoughtfully nodding as his gaze drops to the floor. He folds his arms over his chest, the golden band around his exposed bicep reflecting the light that softly glows from a nearby lantern. Taking a few steps toward you, he lifts his eyes to yours.

“It is true,” he says, “the burden I carry for the sake of my people does not always permit me the personal luxury of peace. It… can be difficult.” His tone shifts from diplomatic to vulnerable. “And who is to say I have not broken under it? It is that brokenness that has made me the leader I am.”

Turning his head toward the mural, he looks at it carefully before speaking again. His chiseled jawline accentuates the exposed veins protruding from his neck.

"To your question,” he continues, “I believe how is never as important as why. Why would someone fight to bring others peace when they themselves cannot have it?” Namor takes another step closer and lifts his hand to your chin, delicately angling your face upward toward his own. "Because we sacrifice to protect what we love.”

His eyes search yours earnestly. After a moment, Namor quickly drops his hand from your chin and you watch as he moves towards his desk, shuffling a few scrolls around before looking back up at you again.

“I love my people,” he says, planting his hand firmly on the desk, “and I have seen evil, what it is capable of. I watch as the rest of the world grows desperate in their greed and ambition, their desire for power. They are becoming more dangerous by the day."

"You mean — surface dwellers?" You ask.

Namor raises his brow at you knowingly.

"Yes,” he answers cooly.

"I'm a surface dweller. Am I...dangerous?"

Namor sighs with a small smile.

“Yes. Though not in the way you may think.”

He moves from out behind his desk and back over in your direction.

“Now I have a question for you,” he says in a low voice, approaching you with a dark look looming over his face. “Please consider your answer carefully.”

The silence is intense. Your heart feels like it is going to jump out of your throat as you anticipate what damning question the king of Talokan has in store for you.

Namor’s expression changes on a dime, and he suddenly asks in a lighthearted tone,

“Are you up for a swim?”

—

You follow Namor out of his quarters and into the large open cavern. As you pass by several beautiful pools of water, you are enchanted by how the light dances across the rich tones of Namor's skin. The same light casts dazzling hues of aquamarine and cerulean across the surface of the pools, reflected onto the rocks surrounding them.

Namor approaches one of the bigger pools and removes the cape from his shoulder, exposing his bare chest underneath. Here is the Namor you recognize - prominent necklace, bare chest, emerald green shorts. Before dropping his cape to the ground, however, he pulls out a Talokan mask from the fabric like the ones Namora and the other warriors wear.

“Take a deep breath,” Namor says as he turns to you. He pushes your hair back from your cheek delicately as he applies the apparatus to your face. Doing as you are told, you inhale deeply as the mask fastens over your nose and mouth.

“Stay close,” he instructs. You nod, and Namor steps to the edge of the closest pool. He looks back at you with a hint of a smile on his face. Then, with all the strength and grace of a god, he dives perfectly into the water and disappears under the surface.

You step closer to the pool. The faint rhythm of droplets falling from the ceiling rings throughout the cavern. You glance behind you toward the entrance, but there isn't a soul in sight. Namora’s words echo through your mind.

When it comes to you, he is blind.

You dive in, following Namor.

Once in the water, you quickly orient yourself. Looking around, you see the outline of Namor, his silhouette waiting for you in the distance. As you swim closer, he gestures for you to follow him. You kick your feet to propel yourself further downward, ears popping as you equalize to the increasing pressure.

You swim until you are clear of the caves. Though your muscles ache, there is something serene about being beneath the water; the quiet, the weightlessness, everything drifting harmoniously in rhythm with the current. For the first time since you can remember, your mind feels still. Free from the chaos. Somehow, the vast open sea does not frighten you with its deep blue void as it did in your dream. Not even a little. Instead, you feel a calmness in your soul as you lose track of time entirely, trailing Namor as you move through the ocean’s depths.

Quite literally in his element, you watch in awe as Namor swims so effortlessly. To him, it must be as easy as breathing. He looks more relaxed than you have seen him. Perhaps even enjoying himself?

You continue to swim, the water getting lighter as the visibility becomes clearer. A school of fish rushes past, their scales glimmering with each flick of a fin or contour of their bodies. Countless numbers weave around you in sync as if part of the same carefully choreographed ballet. You can’t help but smile as you watch them move so freely, and Namor can't help but smile as he watches you.

Suddenly the fish rapidly disperse and within seconds a huge mass flashes past you with incredible speed and agility. Your eyes widen and adrenaline rushes through you as you witness a killer whale chase the school, its size completely dwarfing your mere human frame. Involuntarily, you begin hyperventilating as you watch the giant creature swim off into the distance. When you feel a touch against your arm, you turn to find Namor next to you. His hand rises and falls in front of his torso, gesturing for you to take deep breaths. In, out. In, out.

The two of you remain suspended in the endless ocean blue as you your breath slows and your muscles recover. Namor looks upward, and as you savor the moment of rest you follow his gaze. You can tell by the light above that you are getting close to the surface, which must mean you are nearing your destination. When he nods, you know it is time to move. Slowly the two of you start your ascent and the ocean becomes warmer as you gradually near the top.

When you arise from the water, the sound of the rushing wind, the rolling waves, and birds flying overhead rush into your ears. Less than a hundred meters from you stretches a beautiful coastline covered in soft white sand and lined by rich green foliage.

You make your way towards it. Soon you are walking knee-deep in the waves, the tide splashing against the back of your legs as you near the shore. Removing the mask from your face, the sweet breeze of the island races by, rustling your wet hair and filling your nostrils with the earthy aroma of some nearby palm trees.

Namor has already reached the sand. He stands tall, water still running down his body. Staring out at the horizon, he runs his hand over his face and pushes his hair back, inadvertently flexing his bicep as he does so. The sun slowly begins its descent toward the Earth, its warm rays casting brilliant tones of red and orange across Namor’s exposed skin. It contrasts the deep blues and greens that illuminated him in the caverns, and at this point, you are confident he looks devastatingly beautiful in any light.

As you reach the shore, you take your place next to him and stare out at the skyline.

“Hard to beat a view like that,” you say breathlessly.

“My mother would always describe to me the beauty of the setting sun,” Namor responds. “I have no love for the surface world, but from time to time I visit this island. See what she saw.”

“Is this—?” You begin to ask.

“Where she is buried.” Namor answers before you finish your question. His eyes drop as he reflects, “I am not sure what I expected to see the day I came to lay her body to rest. I suppose the beauty of an island she spoke of so fondly. Instead, I found my brothers and sisters enslaved by men who took life without a second thought.” His jaw clenches as he recalls the bitter memory. “But I saw to it the favor was returned.”

His meaning is clear. You are not sure which makes you more nervous — the calm and cool way he says it, or the menacing smile that accompanies his statement. Either way, his smile disappears as quickly as it comes. You have seen Namor’s ferocity firsthand and know what he is capable of, especially when it comes to protecting his people. A nervous feeling grows in the pit of your stomach as you begin questioning his purpose in bringing you here.

You consider the facts:

You are a surface dweller.

He did call you dangerous.

Oh shit.

Anxiously you glance at him, then redirect your gaze back to the horizon to maintain your composure. The soft waves break along the shore, racing up to your ankles. As the sand beneath your feet gets pulled out by the tide, you wish with all your might you could be pulled away with it. Instead, you sink deeper into the ground, more immovable than before.

“Are you going to kill me?” The words come out blunter than you intend, but you stand by them despite the quiver in your voice.

The question pulls Namor out of his thoughts as he turns to you, eyebrows raised. He studies your face carefully before answering.

“I probably should," he says. There is no malice in his words, only honesty. “The knowledge you have of me and my people... it puts me in a difficult position.” His eyes are solemn. "But I have lived a long time, and in that time I have witnessed many in their final moments before death when one truly reveals themself. That night on the beach, in what you believed were your final moments, you kept your word to me and my people. You said nothing to those men, even with your life on the line. There is no truer test of loyalty.”

Without a word, he reaches his hand out for the mask you still carry. You cautiously hand it over.

"There is a village eastward,” Namor continues, “you will find everything you need there, and the means to leave this place."

You feel his palm slip under your fingers to receive the mask. He takes a deep breath, then purses his lips in the direction behind you.

“Or, just up the way beyond those trees is a house. It is not much, but comfortable. It is yours to use... if you wish. You would be safe here.”

The offer catches you off guard.

“I… I don't understand." You mutter in slight confusion.

With a deep inhale, Namor squints back at the setting sun to collect his thoughts. Then, taking another step closer, he eliminates virtually any remaining space between you. His eyes are deep and mesmerizing as ever. Your heart races from his sudden proximity and you find yourself holding your breath as you wait for him to speak again. He peers down at you, so impossibly close that you can sense the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes.

"You are no enemy of mine," he says with authority, "and no prisoner of Talokan. You have my trust. And because of that trust, I will not order you to stay." Namor then drops the mask into the sand like it is worthless and gently slides his hands underneath your jawline, cradling your face in both of his palms. “But I am asking you to.”

You are speechless. The way he is holding your gaze, the tenderness of his thumb brushing against the apple of your cheek, the fluttering of his lashes as his eyes flick down to your mouth.

"Stay," Namor says fervently in one final clarifying word. It is not a command, but an invitation. Perhaps even a plea. But most importantly, it is a choice. Your choice.

His eyes quickly dart back up to yours as he awaits an answer, but even Namor is not strong enough to keep his attention from dropping back down to your lips. He is clearly focused on more than just the words he hopes to hear come out of them.

In an overwhelming wave of boldness, you allow instinct to take over. No lives at stake, no siren’s song — it is only the burning desire within your very soul for him that compels you. You close your eyes and melt into Namor’s touch, pressing your lips to his.

The moment you do so, it is as if a surge of energy courses through your veins, electrifying your entire body. Namor immediately welcomes your advance, molding his lips to your own. The smooth piece of jade that pierces his septum presses cooly above your lip, contrasting the heat of his skin to ignite your senses. As he slides a hand around to the back of your neck, his fingers curl into your hair to bring you in even closer.

A small moan escapes you as the tip of his tongue traces along your bottom lip. You can feel his smile against your mouth, then a tug at the same lip with his teeth. Another invitation, to which you gladly accept. You part your mouth open to let Namor inside. Both of your tongues dance together as your kisses become deeper and more indulgent.

Consumed by his taste and his touch, you slide your hands up his bare chest, desperate for more of him. Without missing a beat, Namor responds by running his arms down your body and hoisting you up off the sand with ease. You wrap your legs around him tightly and take full advantage of this new, higher angle. Moving your mouth in tandem with his, you savor the richness of his lips and entangling your fingers in his dark locks of hair.

The two of you ebb and flow just like the rolling ocean waves, losing yourselves in each other. It’s not until you feel a faint burning in your lungs that you face the harsh reality of having to break away for air. Everything inside you fights it. If Namor were the sea, you would gladly let yourself drown in this moment.

But Namor, also sensing your need for oxygen, begins to slow down. He lowers you gently to the ground, though he is careful not to let you slip too far away from him. The two of you breathe heavily as the sun begins to dip below the horizon. Namor gives you another passionate kiss, this one slow and deep. His lips then move to the corner of your mouth and trail up to your ear, the heat of his breath spreading like wildfire across your skin. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest. Holding you close, Namor leans his forehead against your temple and presses his lips against your ear.

“Please," he whispers. "Stay with me.”

--------

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passivenovember · 2 months

Text

Harringrove Relay Race -- passing the torch to @raven-cl ! Run babe RUN!

blooming forth, it's every color in the moments it has left.

Turns out, shit hits the fan in the dark.

Steve’s known that. It’s still a surprise when Billy takes Max and hits the ground hot with his feet aching after a long shift at the pool, even though his sandals are covered in blood. His. Neil's.

Doesn't actually matter, because when Steve wakes up to a phone call so late in the night he thinks someone's gotta be dead or dying, or they need to get sucked off like they need air and water and Steve's gotten himself penciled in as the number-one, go-to asshat for both types of situations--

Point is, the phone goddamn rings. Sounds like pennies being thrown against the walls of Steve’s two-bedroom apartment. And it's the middle of the night. All that matters is that when Steve rolls over and yanks the receiver from its cradle, all, "Someone better be dying–”

Billy's trying his best not to cry. "I hit him," Billy says, an earthquake that shakes the foundation of the city. That gets Steve wide-eyed and fearful and awake. "Fuck, Steve, I hit him--"

“What?” Steve sits ramrod in bed, covers a limp and useless pool around him. "Are you alright?"

"I'm. There's, like. Blood," Billy says, "I guess."

"You guess?"

"I'm okay. Nothing’s broken," Billy pulls away from the phone to say something to someone. To Max, Steve would bet money on it. And then he says, "I have blood on my feet. And. Max has blood in her hair so it looks black, almost, and. Shit, Steve, I hit him--"

"Where are you?”

"--It might be Neil's blood," Billy tells him. Like Steve's lost in the weeds, here. Like he needs a compass pointing him toward the huge, terrible obvious truth. "I--"

"Fuck who's blood it is," Steve tells him, already upright struggling into a pair of week-old jeans. He tries not to focus on that, swallows against the urge to be harsh with himself, because he was knocked out two minutes ago, dreaming of the pretty pink pucker of Billy's cunt when the phone rang. "That's not important. Where are you," Steve asks, cock still hard because he's human, getting tangled in the phone cord, "You said. Is Max--"

"She's okay. We're at a gas station about twenty miles outside of town."

Steve's hard-on dies. "Twenty miles outside of town?"

"Yeah."

"What are you talking about?" Steve doesn't put a shirt on. He throws a jacket over his chest. Billy's jacket. Doesn't even zip the thing. "Never mind. I'm coming to get you."

"The car works, you don't need to get out of bed."

"I'm dressed, I'm out of bed," Steve says, teasing, "Stay put. Are you, like. East or west, twenty miles out of town?"

"Steve," Billy says, and it casts an unflattering spotlight on everything.

Steve ducks to hide from it, searching under his bed for a pair of shoes. "Okay, yeah. Stupid fucking question to ask, but I was asleep--"

"We have to go," Billy tells him.

"Okay," Steve says quickly. Doesn't like the tone of Billy's voice. "Let's go, blue. Where are we going?"

“Max and I–”

“--And you and me,” Steve finishes for him.

“Steve,” Billy says. “You know Max and I can't stay here."

Steve shoves his bare feet into a pair of shoes. Rain boots. "So, you're just gonna leave? Without saying goodbye? There’s no other option, here?”

"This isn't about you."

"Fine," Steve says, stalking over to his dresser mirror. The phone cord tugs on him, not nearly long enough, and he fights the urge to rip it out of the wall. Doesn’t. 'Cause. He'd lose Billy.

Steve fiddles with it, anyway, trying to keep calm. “How’re you gonna get there?”

“We’ll drive.”

“Okay, and what happens when you get to where you’re going?”

“Wow, aren’t you the bearer of bad fuckin’ news–”

“--Billy, you don't have money.”

“So?”

“So, I have money,” Steve concludes, “A shit load of it.”

"Fuck you, I have a shitload of money."

"No, you don't."

"Yeah huh, I've been saving up."

Steve snorts, grasping at straws because. It’s true. The exact opposite of everything Steve’s been hoping would never happen, the same thing as a knife slicing through his heart. Billy’s been saving. Steve knows he’s been saving because Steve pays for every date because Steve’s a dead fuckin’ end and has nothing to goddamn lose by treating his boy right. He’s not going anywhere from here, but Billy–

"You're not leaving,” Steve says.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Fine, then,” Steve backtracks expertly, a perk of what he learned dating girls for nineteen years before this. “You can’t go without saying goodbye.”

“Sap.”

“Let me kiss you, man. I fuckin’. I love--"

"--Steve--"

"--No, it's alright. I gotta say this, 'cause. Every fucking thing in my life is about you, right?"

Billy groans. When he speaks again, his voice is muffled by the wall of whatever payphone booth he's standing in. "You're so annoying."

"So are you. I'm being honest," Steve says. He ducks, a little, peering at his reflection from across the room so he can run a hand through his hair, at least, 'cause.

He's still got a crush on Billy, after all this time. Sue him.

"You're, like," Steve says intelligently, choking to death. "You're everything. You chopped everything up with just bein' yourself and slid into its place and I fuckin' care about you more than. Everything. And if you're going to run away to California--"

"--Who said I was--"

"--Twenty miles west outside of Hawkins?" Steve points out.

Billy doesn't say anything.

Through the static of the phone line, Steve imagines him cast in the grimy street glow of payphone booth glass, tempered but breaking. Twenty miles away but already gone.

Makes Steve crazy. Makes him want to hold on tighter, hard enough to break his own fingers. "I just," He starts, turning from the mirror, "I always thought, or. Maybe I've been thinking lately that if you're going to California, I'd be there to help."

To see you off. To hold your hand. To beg you to make room enough in your suitcase for me to come along–

"Oh yeah? You've been thinking that always?" Billy teases, and. It's gotta be a good thing. That even though he has blood on his feet, he's feeling okay enough to crack-wise.

"Please," Steve says. Tells him. Begs. Has nothing left to do but make it through this phone call even though he's about to shake loose from his own skin.

Steve is very cool these days.

Billy pulls away from the phone and says something, to Max, in a soft, pillow-top rumble that does shit, like. To Steve's belly. His heart. The very rotten, love-sick matter of who he is. Who Billy has turned him into.

Steve bites his tongue hard enough to taste blood, swallowing every single please please please that shifts like the fabric of a sourdough starter in the back of his throat. Steve paces. Taps his foot. Digs his nails into the palm of his free hand while Billy and Max argue in hushed voices for what feels like hours and years.

Finally, Billy says, "Okay, fuckin'. What happens if Neil hears that we haven't left town?"

Steve has to focus so his knees don't give out, full of relief. "That won’t happen. No one pays attention to me. This is an apartment complex."

"Yeah, but what if he drives by and sees the car?"

"I'll kill him," Steve says. Simple, because it is.

Billy snorts. It almost, almost, sounds like a laugh. "'Kay, well. Say he doesn't go looking for the Camaro. What if he calls Hawkins High to try and find out about Max?”

“He won’t.”

“You’re fuckin’ stupid for saying that,” Billy snaps, “Neil doesn’t give a shit about me but her? He won’t let her–”

“--I won’t let him–”

“Shut up; just. What if he shows up during fifth period and--"

"--We're both over eighteen. We’re old as shit, old enough to drink, almost, We'll. I dunno. We’ll change her emergency contact first thing tomorrow so they'll call me at the video store when he breaks into the building," Steve says, "And then I can take my fifteen-minute break to drive over there and kill him."

Billy does laugh that time. Sounds like it hurts. He pulls away from the phone to repeat Steve's evil plan to Max, who starts laughing, too, and Steve would do anything for them. He would be anything for them.

"Come over," Steve says, coiling the phone line around his hand, "Just until we can figure something else out. We can park your car ‘round back by the slop sinks. No one ever goes over there, we can hide you."

"Steve--"

"I can't watch you walk away from me, Billy," Steve says, and. His voice. Fuckin’. Cracks. Like glass and barren earth. A fist to the back of his own head, still. Desperately, pathetically in love with Billy even after all this time. Still drowning in the intensity of it. Sue him.

"Fuck, this is so fucking dumb," Billy says, aching. But he tells Max to sit in the car.

Steve considers it a win.

He decides not to waste the get-up.

Twenty miles'll go by in a heartbeat, and Billy has a tendency to sugarcoat shit when it comes to the marks Neil Hargrove leaves behind. Tends to get jumpy, ready to go pedal-to-the-metal.

Steve prepares for the worst. Makes three cups of coffee, to fight the dregs of the worst, and then dumps them into the sink when he remembers that Max is sixteen years old and it's a Wednesday. Thursday, now.

Whatever.

He makes tea, instead, and sits in the shitty lawn chair on his porch, sipping a mug of the very same chamomile bullshit that Robin keeps buying him.

Steve tries to cobble together a plan in under 30 minutes.

He imagines Billy, shaking and scared and covered in blood, on the canvas chair next to him. Asking how. How are you going to do this? How are you going to prove yourself a safe house for me and my kid sister?

Steve tries not to swallow his tongue, choking to death on the absolute weight of such a responsibility. He focuses on not dying. Hones in on how pissed Robin would be to discover such a close call, and how she would remind him to list the facts.

Truth is, a two-bedroom apartment is more than enough room, Steve tells her. Tells Billy, who looks easier to convince than the one who's on his way in from the edge of town. Everything will be alright. He'll fix up the couch for Max until he can get down to Red Oak Furniture after work tomorrow for a bed frame. He'll need to dip into his savings, but a sixteen year old girl needs her own space, she needs a bed.

Tears slide down Billy's cheeks and Robin disappears. When Billy cries he has a way of wounding everything around him.

His eyes say we need groceries. Steve needs to shop for groceries. Max won't eat a vegetable, but she's still growing, Harrington, and Steve doesn't make enough dough to afford fresh ingredients every week, just when he's putting on his a-game to get into Billy's pants, but.

He's always trying to get into Billy's pants.

Everything boils down to money. Steve needs a new job.

He sips Robin's shitty fuckin' chamomile and tries to focus on the immediate, too piss-poor to list the facts. He'll make tea when they arrive. Dinner, if they're hungry. The couch made up. The tea, drank, and tomorrow when the blood is gone from Billy's feet and his tears have dried, Steve'll call his father and beg for an assistant gig at the office downtown. He's got mouths to feed, now, he's got--

Billy's Camaro swings into view.

Steve jumps to his feet, rain boots squeaking, and holds his breath when the car disappears around the corner, parking where Steve said it would be safe.

"We're only staying for the night," Billy tells him, instead of hello, voice hard as marble the second Steve is close enough to really hear it.

Max throws the passenger door open.

Her backpack is stuffed. Soft. “What the fuck are you wearing?” Max demands.

Steve shifts under the intensity of her stare, embarrassed. “Billy said. I was gonna come and–”

“--You look stupid,” Max tells him helpfully.

Before Steve can move or breathe or think, Max storms past him in a fury of wild red hair and red, wet cheeks. "Thanks," Steve says, but the door slams shut before she hears him.

The entire apartment complex shakes. Hawkins, too, and the world, beyond that. Steve can't take his eyes off it, for a second. For a lifetime. It's a black hole, eating and eating and eating--

"Sorry about that," Billy says. When Steve looks at him, Billy's still half-hanging out of the car. One foot on the ground. Leaning against the gaping wound of the driver's seat with his arm on the lip of the door, like. Steve's going to take Max and tell Billy to fuck off forever.

His head is bald.

The cut is uneven, vicious. Almost like--

"Hey, pretty thing," Steve says. Everything's yellow from the Camaro's headlights, everything lies shattered in the grass around them. "Don't worry about it, she's upset."

Billy nods, the rest of him terrible and still.

Steve aches. He moves closer. "Baby. Do you want to come inside?"

"I didn't get to pack a bag," Billy says, like it matters, somehow.

It doesn't. "I have clothes you can wear," Steve tells him, padding closer, hands splayed as if approaching some sweet, terrified, rabid animal. “You know that you can have whatever you want, right? With me?”

Billy nods again, still unmoving. Still unseeing. "We're just staying until sunrise," Billy tells him, trained on the soft, fleshy landing of Steve's throat as it swings into view. "Just until it's light enough."

Billy's ear bleeds. Or. It did, at one point. Like someone came at him with a butcher's knife, swinging blindly but only getting his hair.

Steve has trouble remembering that the world isn’t burning around them

"It's just,” Billy tries, “It's not safe to drive when it's dark like this, y'know?"

"I know," Steve says. Billy's chest heaves like he's being chased, so. Steve nods. "Max is lucky to have someone like you. Someone who knows what they're doing."

"Right. So fucking lucky," Billy shakes his head, snorting bitterly. "Doesn't matter. Couple hours and we're gone, Harrington. I swear."

Steve reaches the car door, fiddling with its handle. Touching Billy without. Touching him. Testing the waters. "I'm not worried about it."

"You've probably never had to run from your fuckin’ house in the middle of the night," Billy tells him, finally looking at Steve but not. Seeing him. "This is the third time for me. First for Max."

Steve notices a black eye. A split lip.

Billy's still the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. "I've never had to run," Steve tells him, because it's easiest to get the hard shit out of the way, first.

He wants to know about the other two times.

He wants to ask about California. If things were the same with his father there. If Billy's really going as soon as it's light out. If the blood in Max’s hair is her own, and how Billy would feel about Steve pressing his thumbs into Neil's eye sockets before the sun rises and Billy has the chance to run away.

Maybe. The proven death of this monster will change things.

Steve inches closer, instead, past the lip of the car door. He slips into Billy's space, grateful when Billy lets Steve touch his chest, checking for injuries.

"I could always go home, before," Billy says, eyes unfocused over Steve's shoulder when fingers prod at his ribcage, "But. I never had Max. I always had to go home to make sure she was gonna be okay without me, and then I'd be too scared to leave her behind so I’d just stay put until–"

"Does it hurt when I press down like this?"

Billy shakes his head, "Steve. She's sixteen--"

"What about here? Does this hurt?"

"She wouldn't stay," Billy looks at him, then, tracking whatever emotion breaks like a wave between them, "Neil started, and. It got bad, Steve. And she wouldn't fuckin' stay put like I told her to, and now. We have no place to--"

"--Is she hurt?"

"She's homeless," Billy says. Steve exhales through his nose, trying to keep up. "We're homeless. I made her homeless," Billy tells him, with rising panic.

Steve takes his hand. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"We don't have anywhere to live, Steve."

"Billy, look at me," Steve grabs his face gingerly, staring into his beautiful, shattered, empty eyes. "You live here with me, baby. We're here together and I'm not going to let anything happen to you, right? Yes?"

Billy blinks at him, coming back to himself. He nods. "Just until tomorrow, right? Until I can--"

“Sure, whatever,” Steve says, playing along if that's what will get him into the house.

The shower's running.

Billy won't let go of Steve's hand so they shuffle through the cramped living room together on plan b, stuck like paper dolls. Max has made up the couch, and already has the T.V. on, so Steve leads Billy to the bedroom, depositing him gingerly onto the unmade mattress.

“Sit still,” Steve tells him.

“I know,” Billy says, far away even as he strangles the blood from Steve’s wrist. “Max was right, you look like a dork.”

“I was asleep when you called,” Steve says thinly. “I thought you were running away.”

“I was.”

“Ah, truth comes out,” Steve ducks to retrieve a battered first aid kit from under the nightstand, because. This isn't the first time Billy's shown up in the middle of the night but it’s the worst shape Steve’s seen.

Steve swallows that, too, and struggles to get the fuckin' thing open with only one hand. He can't feel the other, Billy's holding on so tight, but Steve's not complaining.

He holds on just as tight. Just as hard. Wonders what counts as running off, in Billy's mind. If there are certain boxes Neil has to check to push Billy to that point, the 'running away and never coming back,' point, and Steve can't sift through his rampant emotions quick enough to discover what it means that all those times Billy stumbled through the dark and Steve found him, bruised and bleeding all over Mrs. Harrington’s imported Oak flooring, that wasn't the worst of it.

“You don’t need stitches,” Steve says.

“You’re a good nurse,” Billy says, wincing at the forward burn of isopropyl against his ear lobe, “You’re hot. Anyone ever tell you that, Harrington.”

Steve grins, “Once or twice, maybe.”

“Real dime,” Billy says, working to meld their pulses together until they’re one.

Steve swallows a lump in his throat, everything he feels for this boy rushing to sit like water in his lungs. “Almost done,” Steve says. Wondering how someone could hurt this boy, this spot of gold. This vial of sunlight.

Billy winks at him, even though it’s starting to swell shut. “Thanks, doc,” He says.

“Don’t mention it,” Steve tells him, instead of run.

Instead you should’ve been a thousand miles away, by now.

Instead of drag me along.

It's ten minutes after Billy disappears into the bathroom before Steve ventures out with his first aid kit clutched in the hand Billy wouldn't let go of.

His fingers are still numb.

Max sees him and the aid box and immediately snorts at, incredulous. "I'm fine, Harrington, you can put your Barbie band-aids away."

Landmine. "Sure.”

“And your rain boots. You look–”

“Stupid, I know,” Steve shuffles, put on edge by the soft click of the T.V. remote in Max’s hand. “I just. Billy said that you had blood in your hair, and I just wanted to--"

"--It was Billy's," Max tells him, eyes trained carefully on the flickering screen in front of her.

Steve knows Max well enough now to get that she needs to be comforted, probably. She's still a kid, she's sixteen, but he also knows that the truth needs to be coaxed out of her, dripping like saliva past her rows and rows of sharp, vicious teeth. Just like Bill--

"Stop fidgeting like that. You look fucking stupid," Max tells him.

Like Steve said. A piranha. A sixteen-year-old hammerhead shark. The shower's still going so Steve frowns, tucking his first aid kit onto the coffee table. "It’s not just the rain boots?”

“No,” Max says, “It’s the whole outfit. And your big, dumb, worried eyes.”

“I’m sorry. I give a shit about you, and he said you were running away because he hit--"

"Yeah, I know what he said, and he didn't hit him. Not hard enough to do anything," Max snorts, again, mean. "Jesus Christ, he's so dramatic."

Steve nods, and the movement pulls her in. Brings her claws out.

"You’re dramatic, too. You were made for each other.”

“Okay.”

“Dumb and soft and earnest,” Max shakes her head, disappointed in them both. “Billy isn't dad. He thinks it's his fault. It isn't."

She says, like. Steve's going to lose his fuckin' mind and argue. "I know."

"He always thinks everything's his fault, but it's not. That's the Drama Bitch in him. He's a prima donna grade-a loser asshole but he's a good guy and he's my brother--"

"--Max, maybe we should--"

"I'm not moving back to California without any money," Max tells him, eyes on fire. "I'm not. I have a life here, I won’t starve to death here, so you can run in there and tell your stupid boyfriend that I'm not going until–"

"Right. Yeah, I," Steve swallows against the lump in his throat, "Max, you've gotta know that I'm not trying to make you leave."

Max snorts.

"I'm serious," Steve tells her, shuffling forward, "Why the fuck would I want that?”

“Won’t have to pay for all your dates, anymore,” Max tells him, and.

Steve. Didn’t know she knew about that. Didn’t know they were close enough to talk about boys, but he guesses. That’s probably a stupid thing to believe when Max ran away to be with her brother.

She sneers at him, "You're such a loser,” She says, disgusted by his presence.

Lights Steve on fire. "Why?”

"Because,” Max takes a deep, steadying breath, her grip so vice-like on the remote that Steve worries it will shatter. “Because you’re gonna let us stay here.”

“I thought you weren’t on board for California,” Steve demands, embarrassed that he’s angry at a sixteen year old girl for running away from home.

“God, you think you’re the only one who’s holding on to someone?” Max chuckles but it’s not a laugh. It’s mean and raw and bleeding.

Steve nods, reeling, drowning, sinking, flying, swimming, sailing--

"I'm hungry," Max says, and turns back to the T.V.

Steve loves Billy so he makes him something to eat, something heavy and full of starch to sop up all the bad shit inside of him. It works, for the time.

Max has three bowls, even though potatoes count as a vegetable.

They cram together afterward, three sardines on the couch clear of blood. Patched. They watch some stupid fucking cartoon thing until Max falls asleep and Billy can hardly keep his eyes open.

Steve tugs him close, says, "Let's go to bed, honey," And Billy comes, too tired to be irritating and awful. ‘S almost too bad.

When they fold onto the mattress Billy slots into all of Steve's empty spaces, a perfect fit of expanding ribs and tickling eyelashes. Steve pets over the knobs of Billy's spine. He focuses on the warm landing of Billy's forehead where it holds steady against his jaw, burning because of blood and split skin.

Steve tacks lips to Billy’s shorn skull, his forehead, his left ear, and tries to imagine death dropping his scythe on Neil Hargrove's cranium somewhere across this sleepy town. Wonders when everything became an eye for an eye.

"We'll be out of your hair tomorrow," Billy's lashes flutter against Steve's pulse, body tense and coiled and waiting.

Steve pets over his ribcage, says, "Don't be stupid," because. Might as well call it what it is. Billy tries to pull back, to tuck away, but Steve holds on tighter. Stubborn. "Why do you want to run from me so bad?"

"Not you," Billy says. Cramped and muffled against Steve's collarbone, "Hawkins."

"It'll miss you. So will Max," Steve says, petting over Billy's thigh, now, relishing the rough drag of boxer briefs against his fingertips, "Said she's not leaving."

"When?"

"Told me while you were cleaning up."

"What a surprise," Billy reports flatly, "Who gives a shit. She doesn't have a choice."

"Tell her that.”

"She's going. No matter what I’ve gotta do.”

“What if she fights you on it?”

“Then one of us will have blood on our feet, again."

Steve hums, fiddling with the hem of Billy's boxer briefs. Slipping his fingers under the lip. "You try and put her in that car and it won’t even be a fight. You'll be dead before sunset."

Billy snorts, rocking both of them. “She’s scrappy but I’ve got fifty pounds on her.”

“Sure, just muscle and good intentions.” Steve’s fingers tangle in the thatch of hair at Billy’s pelvis. It’s soft and curly, little blonde ringlets that smell like rain water.

Billy sighs, tilting back when Steve inches upupup his shaft. "Stop trying to get in my pants, Harrington."

"You have something I want," Steve tells him. It's easy to find Billy's cockhead, blooming with springtime mist. Steve smooths it with his thumb. He grins at the noise Billy makes, ducks to nibble at that cut jawbone. “You won’t be able to sleep if you don’t relax.”

"Shit," Billy says intelligently.

"Want you inside me. Want your fingers."

"Fuck you, I'm grieving,” Billy grumbles, but he cranes his neck. Makes room between his legs.

"I could take your mind off it for a little while,” Steve says. He untangles himself, shucking the covers and laying on his stomach next to Billy’s thighs. He smells like the earth, fresh and moist. Steve tugs at his boxers, mouth-watering when Billy’s cock nods and the popcorn ceiling.

“Steve,” Billy protests, choking on a moan when Steve swallows him down, teeth knotted in the feather down at Billy’s pelvis. "Baby, Max is in the next room."

Steve comes up for air, kissing the freckle at Billy’s tip. "She's asleep."

"You're such a whore,” Billy glares sharply, “Is this how it's gonna be every goddamn night?"

And.

Suddenly Steve's heart swells, pushing against the cavern of his ribcage. He must smile, must press love and lightning into Billy's forehead when Steve clamors to his knees and pets over the bruise there, so happy the bed's about to blast out from under them.

"Stop making that stupid face," Billy snorts, dabbing the saliva on Steve’s chin, "Lookin' at me like I'm gonna--"

"I love you," Steve says.

Billy shifts, his cheeks blooming pink, “Just sayin’ that because my cock is out.”

“Maybe,” Steve teases. Can't help it; every goddamn thing about himself. He's stupid, and happy, and so, so heartbroken. He licks at Billy’s cockhead, heart thumping elation through his limbs. "You're really gonna stay with me?"

Billy shrugs, fiddling with the stretched-out neckline of Steve's t-shirt. "I don't know where else we could go."

"California."

"Max said she's not going, right?" Billy mumbles, "And. You've made it pretty clear that you wouldn't either."

“I never said that.”

“Don’t have to say it, it’s in your voice?”

Billy’s talking in circles, feeding his insecurities because that’s what he does when he’s on the verge of something else.

“Oh yeah? What’s in my actions?” Steve slips down the mattress again and sucks Billy to the root, bobbing his head and opening his throat in earnest, licking and swallowing until Billy soft little noises splat against the walls like wads of bubblegum.

Billy groans, knotting his fingers in Steve’s hair.

His roots sing. “I’d go anywhere you asked me to,” Steve points out before Billy can speak. Sounds. Like swallowing rocks is his favorite thing. “The problem is you never ask me to.”

Billy shrugs.

“Ask me.”

“Steve–”

Steve pulls himself out of Billy’s hold and sucks him down again, swallowing. Only comes up for air when Billy starts writhing beneath him. “Say it.”

“I–”

“Say, ‘Steve, come home with me to California, I’ll teach you how to surf, we can live on the ocean–’”

“Costs a fuckin’ fortune to live on the waterline,” Billy stutters, mouth falling open with a groan when Steve spits on his cock. Works up a rhythm with the palm of his hand just so he can watch the way Billy’s stomach tugs at the waistband of Steve’s lended boxers.

He’s only a little worried that Max might hear them.

Not enough to stop, not when Billy’s throat opens bit by bit, little wrecked noises barely reaching Steve across the valley of air between them. Through the shutter of the blinds, Billy’s skin glows. Stardust and bushels of flowering lilac in the shape of fingers and fists, sprouting and withering along his neck and cheek and jawline, breathing and dying over and over and over again.

Billy cranes to watch him, lips raw and red and open, tongue lulling.

Steve cracks and splinters at the sight, at his wits end, at the height of all he’s ever felt–

“What?” Billy asks, chest heaving.

Steve climbs on top of him, swallowing the shock that flutters from between Billy’s lips. His cock presses into Steve’s ass, slick head trapped by Steve’s layer of encasing, rough cotton. It fits perfectly, just like the rest of him, like they were made for this. Each other. Finding solace and rhythm in the tattered edges of the night.

Steve sucks on Billy’s tongue, deepening the kiss. His thighs shake, his hips roll down, startling the air from Steve’s lungs. Or Billy’s. Both.

“Baby,” He says. Or Billy does, “Baby, I–”

Steve pulls back enough to see the tears clinging stubbornly to Billy’s lashes, drops of stardust stranded in bright blue skies. He wipes them away with his thumb, pressing their lips together in a chaste, sweet kiss.

Chokes on a thousand things. What he could’ve said, on all those other nights. What he isn’t saying now. What he’ll have to stumble over tomorrow so that things can get started on a solid foundation–

It all, just. Dies.

Steve rolls his hips, “I love you,” He says, breaking like waves where Billy’s skin is the shore. “Let me make love to you.”

Because it’s all that matters.

Uncertainty flashes, bright as lightning, across Billy’s face, and then it’s gone. “Okay,” He says, “Alright.”

–

“I lied,” Steve tells him, to distract from the places they’re stuck together, the swatches where they’re bruised and cut and bleeding, “I tried to run away, once. When I was seven.”

Billy hums, his cheek warm and sticky over Steve’s rib cage. “Did you hear what I said?” Steve asks, chuckling, “Not gonna fall asleep, are you?”

“Thought you wanted me to relax.”

“I do.”

“Well, I am,” Billy tells him, “Your pussy’s magic–”

“Don’t say pussy when I’m talking about running away from home, that’s gross.” Steve yelps, wiggling when Billy’s teeth close around his nipple and tug. “Ow, shithead, this is important–”

“What, mommy and daddy didn’t get you the yacht you asked for for christmas so you ran away from home for twenty minutes?” Billy snaps, but there’s no heat. No fire.

“Not exactly,” Steve shrugs, rustling Billy’s head back onto his chest. “My grandma had come to stay with us for a while. She was sick. Dying, actually, but I was too young to notice. She never looked sick, she was constant. Still cooked dinner for us. Still holy-rolled until I cleaned my room. She took care of me.”

Billy’s arm tightens around Steve’s waist. Subtle and constant, too.

“When she finally passed on, I just. Didn’t want to be with my parents anymore,” Steve swallows, nearly strangling himself on the lump in his throat, “Look. They never hurt me, Billy, not like–”

“--We don’t have to talk about this–”

“--I know I could never understand, but. When my grandma stayed with us I felt love. I wasn’t alone, anymore, she was my family. And after she was gone I couldn’t go back to the way shit had been before she came to us, you know? I couldn’t be alone in that empty fucking house anymore, I had to leave.”

“But you didn’t?” Bill asks.

Steve holds him tighter. “I didn’t.”

Billy twists, chin poking Steve in the ribs but it doesn’t matter, when their eyes meet. Steve pets over his forehead, his eyelashes, savoring the plush of his cupid's bow. Vibrant and alive. Free.

“Beautiful,” Steve says. A fact. A name, “I understand why you have to go.”

“I’m sorry,” Billy leans into Steve’s touch, seeking his warmth. “We all need to run away, sometimes.”

“I could come with you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Billy says. He starts crying, soft as summer rain. Maybe he already was. Steve rubs at his cheeks, trying to catch them before they fall. “You’ve become the thing I run to, but–”

“--You don’t have to ask. It’s not some fuckin’ sacrifice, if you leave there’s nothing left. I don’t want to go home if you’re not there.” Steve says, and then waits, patiently re-counting the 297 freckles he knows form a village on Billy’s nose.

Billy thinks it over. Finally, he frowns. “So in this situation I’m like your grandma?”

Steve blinks, a laugh startled out of him, “What?”

“You said,” BIlly grumbles, brow furrowing, “You said that when she–”

“--I don’t want to fuck my grandma, that’s–”

“--God, you’re so annoying,” Billy rolls onto his back, jostling the mattress until all their blankets slither, ending tucked around him so Steve will freeze to death.

It’s so achingly usual. So soft.

“Baby,” Steve props himself on one below, chuckling when Billy rolls onto his side. Away. Steve pokes Billy’s shoulder, rocking him, “Hey, you goddamn brat, I was just—”

“--I didn’t mean that you want to fuck your grandma, you psycho, I meant. Like. You said that when she wasn’t home you couldn’t go back.”

Steve’s hand rests on the blanket between them. He feels like a naked, sparking bunch of wire. Thinks maybe he said too much, or didn’t say enough, and now Billy’s imagining himself as a stout Italian woman in a clementine shrug.

“She would’ve liked you,” Steve says finally. Billy peeks over his shoulder, scowling. Steve giggles at him, “It’s true!”

“She wouldn’t be disgusted that I’m a cocksucker?”

“No. She was a muff eater, when she was in her twenties,” Steve says casually, laughing when Billy spins and sits bolt upright next to him.

“Are you serious?”

“As the heart attack that killed my papa, who she never really loved,” Steve rights himself, shuffling until their legs are nestled together, until he can kiss and suck on Billy’s pulse.

“Stop that,” Billy says thinly.

“No.”

“You can’t just say that your dead lesbian grandma would like me.”

Steve licks at Billy’s earlobe, tasting blood and isopropyl, and the hiss of metal shears. “Why not?”

“Because,” Billy sighs, fingernails digging into Steve’s right and left kneecaps, “Because then I’ll want to stay with you forever.”

Steve pulls back, confused, “You don’t want to stay with me forever now?”

“You’re an idiot–”

“--Who loves you.”

“Such a dumbass–”

“--Who’s gonna work two extra jobs to get you and your sister to California,” Steve says. Hands topping Billy’s like stubborn barley thistle. Rooting him in place. “I’m gonna do it and you don’t even have to ask.”

Billy shakes his head.

Steve holds on tighter. “I’m serious. I’m gonna give you the world, even if it means we stay here for a while, until we can save up the money. Until it’s not dark out anymore, right?”

A hundred emotions struggle on Billy’s face, each one fighting for dominance. Finally, “Until daybreak?”

Steve nods. “Daylight.”

#harringrove #harringrove relay race #angst with a happy ending #hurt and comfort #listen #this was going to be something else entirely and then i ran out of time lol #more to come on that story soon!

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colddelusionsheep · 2 years

Text

Little Pearls

Yandere Fem Siren X Fem Reader

Just think, you are a merchant's daughter. Sailing on the high seas when a storm suddenly hits. The ship, not being able to handle the crashing waves, starts to sink. You try to make it to a row boat in time, but as you set your eyes on your father and fiancé. You realize they left you to die.

Accepting your fate, you close your eyes as you hit the cold water. The shock of the freeze knocking you out. Making you remain oblivious to the person swimming towards you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Waking up in a cave was not what you expect after you were lost at sea. Not that you were complaining. As far as you thought you are alive and breathing. Which was more than you could ever hope for after the sinking of the ship.

The cave was clearly lived in. Fine treasures were scattered about. Gold and gems were thrown carelessly across the ground. Silk clothes were made into a bed which you were placed upon. Magical gems lit up the place in a cold glow.

From what you could tell, you were not harmed. Your clothes were changed into what seemed to be a silken dress and pearls were braided into your hair. It was masterfully done. It would make you feel like a princess if you were not so creeped out about someone changing you and braiding random things in your hair.

Standing up, you try to set your eyes on any exits that would lead themselves useful. Yet the only opening seemed to be a pool of crystal blue water. Stepping over to it, you almost slip due to the wetness of the stone surrounding it.

You try to take a peak under the water, but all that you met was sharp teeth trying to bite your nose off. Jumping back, you slipped on the wet ground and fell on your ass.

A beautiful laugh was heard from the humanoid that set themselves on the ledge. Their tail resting in the water, peaking out just enough, so you could tell that this was no human you were dealing with.

"Oh my, are you alright Little Pearl? I didn't mean to scare you that bad." The women was by all accounts gorgeous.

Long black hair done in braids much like yours. The white pearls shone in the cold glow. They stood out against the void of her hair. Her tail, from what you could see, was a deep purple. Her breast were fully exposed. You tried to look away from the indecent sight, but her eyes seem to capture yours in their purple glaze.

"My Little Pearl sure is a shy one, it is okay. You are free to admire your mate."

Wait, did she say mate? "I am sorry, what?"

"Your mate, why do you think I saved you? You are mine, and I don't like my things dying on me."

#yandere writing #yandere story #yandre idea #yandere siren #yandere siren x reader #yandere fem #yandere female #fem x fem #yandere #yandere monster #yandere exophilia #yandere mermaid

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eileenslibrary · 4 months

Note

hi can I request

zhongli dating xianyuns daughter(reader)(well not blood daughter but, shenhe and ganyu are called her daughters) it starts during the days that he's still an archon, xianyun orders the reader to keep the geo archon company or should I say serve him, and they developed their feelings towards each other. Since zhongli is an archon he sees ganyu and shenhe as a little children that xianyun is taking care of, but the reader is an exemption since he sees her as a beautiful woman at age reader is also immortal (electro vision holder)

Dainty

Pt.1

(GIF Is Not Mine)

Dainty Pt.2

Zhongli x F! Adepti Reader

(skin color, height, body, and facial features not mentioned or described in this work of fiction, made for all readers who align with she/her she/they)

Warnings: OOC Zhongli, Blood, Death, Near Death, War, Violence, Arguments (Mentioned/Described), Betrayal/Abandonment From Parental Figures/Home, Nudity, A Little Angst In The Parts Speaking About War And Readers Back Story.

“A proper woman” “A polite lady” and “A sweet girl” Is what you grew up in all your life, all you knew, all you wished to be. Up until you weren’t, up until ‘The Incident’ you were scorned as an outcast. Thrown out for being the ‘Odd’ one simply because you stopped playing house, abandoned, and left for dead, the weakest of the pack. You broke from the abusive chains of your village and ran until you stumbled on the muddy ground you stayed there for days laying on the wet ground dying from starvation and the cold, a light makes you crack your eyes open as an electro vision drifts down to you, you use your remaining strength to grasp the glowing orb “I get my vision when I’m dying, great” you huff.

The days continue until one day a soft ‘Plump’ makes you open your eyes a white crane with blue feathers stands before you a small fish in its beak you stare at it watching as it tears it into smaller pieces you open your mouth for it to put the fish inside your mouth as you chew it and swallow it down. This repeats for a while the bird would come and feed you fish and let water drip down its beak into your mouth, then huddle on top of you to keep you warm until you have enough energy to walk. You watch as it flies away when you stand then lands a few feet from you, you follow it as it leads you to Mt. Aocang “Beautiful crane why do you lead me here?” you question, the bird shakes its head and begins striding up the mountain forcing you to follow you until you reach the very top. You collapse when you reach the top “I fear I cannot go any farther” you whisper before your eyes close. You awake to a woman with red-rimmed glasses washing out your hair, “W-where am I?” you ask her “My abode” she hums continuing to wash your hair your eyes widen as you realize “Adeptus Cloud Retainer” you say trying to sit up, but she stops you “Rest you are still sick” she whispers pouring hot water into the jade bath you were laying in “Why did you save me?” you ask “What was I supposed to do? Let you poison my lake with your deceased body?” she says sternly. That was what you got as a ‘Warm Welcome’ in your new home, but Cloud Retainer eventually warmed up to you and took you in as her own. She trusted you enough to let you meet Morax “She is mortal” He hums looking at you “And what of it?” Cloud Retainer defends looking over her shoulder as you wade into the pool letting the fish swim around your feet “You are one of my dearest friends and I would hate to see you grieve her death” He sighs his gold eyes watching as you feed the koi, “Are you saying I should abandon her!?” she raises her voice slightly Morax widens his eyes not used to seeing Cloud Retainer’s emotions slip “No, I was thinking of making a contract to turn her into an adeptus” he says sipping on his cup of tea Cloud Retainer whips her head to look at him “Really?” she says in disbelief. He nods his eyes following as the young woman places her hands into the water and a koi happily swims into them to eat the food in her palms. Cloud Retainer calls you from the pond you look up and wade out of the water, your white dress soaked from the mid-thigh down. Morax looks away at the transparency of the cloth clearing his throat “Yes Mother?” you question noticing the tears in her eyes “Rex Lapis and I have been talking, and we are thinking of making a contract so you can be immortal” she hums taking your hand in hers your eyes light up and you pull her into a hug she makes a “Hmph” sound when her head hits you shoulder, but she reciprocates. After a while of reading and understanding the contract and what it entails you got it signed and Morax bestowed a little of his power on you to make your life eternal. But the contract entailed that you were to accompany Morax everywhere he goes, give him anything he needs, and be his loyal servant.

Years passed as if in a mere blink of an eye, you noticed how Morax was cold with you at the start only talking to you when necessary “Bring us tea” he commands going back to his conversation with Streetward Rambler and Guizhong “As you wish” you hum “You needn’t be so harsh on the girl” Guizhong scolds Morax just grunts Streetward Rambler shakes her head “What were those blue prints you needed me to look over?” he directs the conversation to Guizhong “Oh yeah! Here” she says remembering why she was even here handing him her idea on a new device, but he steals glances in your direction your beautiful white and green robes glimmering in the sun. You sulk as you listen to them banter, waiting for the water to finish boiling, steeping the tea perfectly as you’ve done thousands of times before. Walking over to the table and placing down cups pouring the tea into each one “Enjoy” you hum walking away “Where are you going?” You still at Morax’s words “Ah. . . I was gonna go sit down?” You say as if questioning yourself looking back at him, Guizhong and Streetward Rambler look at you expectantly “What Morax means is for you to come to sit with us” Rambler explains patting the stone seat next to her your eyes widen a happy glint shining in them you find your seat between Morax and Streetward Rambler. You sit between them sitting quietly but content nonetheless just listening to them discuss topics. Morax watches as you sip your tea quietly his eyes tracing over your beautiful features. You meet his eyes giving him a questioning glance “Is something wrong My Lord” You whisper he shakes his head and goes back to his conversation.

The war is tedious but you fight hard, friends and foes falling everywhere you look. You refuse to shed tears and show weakness to anyone who may take advantage of your blind spot, defending your god with a stone heart, letting your sword cut through anyone who would dare try to lay a hand on your god. Static runs through the air as you let electro flow through your movements like wine from a bottle, effortless and graceful swift and solid as you slice through armor as hard as the strongest steel. A cold expression striking fear into the weaker gods who thought you were an easy target, you reek of dirt, blood, and death. Your armor splattered in other's blood as if it was forged in a slaughterhouse. Your only relief was returning to your camp and seeing your friends and god, but one day someone close didn’t return “Rex!” you rush up to him “Where is Guizhong, why isn’t she with you!?” Your eyes search wildly for the god of dust he stays silent pushing past you into his makeshift home, you stand there eyes wide as you sink into the ground hand over your heart, the soiled ground wet and red. Morax closes his eyes when he hears your armor and sword clink as you fall to your knees and let out a scream painful sobs following after, his tears falling as he wishes he could have saved her for your sake.

#zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #anon ask #anonymous #ask #genshin liyue #genshin impact #genshin zhongli #morax x reader #morax

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half-oz-eddie · 8 months

Text

Journaling Billy is so personal for me.

Billy with a gratitude journal that he writes in every time something good happens, or someone does something nice for him.

He got the journal from a nurse at the hospital post-starcourt, who thought it would be a nice way for him to pass the time, while also lifting his spirits and helping him realize how much love and kindness is around him, even if he doubts it.

It's just a blue, soft cover bound book, but he humors the nurse because she's got warm, pretty eyes and reminds him of his mom.

He uses it often, even after leaving the hospital.

Steve catches him writing in his journal one day, and Billy tells him it's fine if he reads the gratitude journal but not his diary.

Steve, of course, is dying to see what's in the journal, what Billy considers nice, and what good things have been happening to the love of his life.

Aug 1, 1985 Everyone came to see me. Even those kids Harrington always babysits. That's nice, right?

Aug 5 Harrington brought me some food from some burger joint. It was good. I guess he's nice even though I was kind of a dick to him.

Aug 21 Harrington showed up to drive me home. I don't know why he's being so nice to me. It pisses me off because I think he just feels sorry for me. I'm probably using this journal the wrong way but I don't care. I can't talk to anybody about this. I'm not feeling that grateful for shit today.

Aug 25 Max helped me with my pain medication. I thought she hated me. She acts like everything's fine. I have to admit I’m grateful what happened only stays in my nightmares and I wake up to a different reality.

Aug 29 Harrington called to check on me. Offered to come over and play cards. He doesn't have to keep pretending. I like the company, though.

Sept 10th Max tried to stay home from school to look after me. I'm doing a lot better so I didn't need the help. I still don't understand why everyone's being so nice after what I did. Sept 14th Felt strong enough to go out for some air on my own. Saw Sinclair and that other kid. Think his name's Dustin. They were on their bikes. They waved and asked how I was doing. Told them I was fine and they rode off. Do I deserve their concern? Sept 15th Sinclair came back while I was on the porch. Asked for Max. I told him he couldn't be here because of Neil. We waited for Max a few houses down and talked about basketball. He's trying out for the team so I gave him some advice. It was a nice conversation. Didn't feel forced at all.

Sept 20th I told Lucas I was sorry for what happened that night. He said he'd forgotten all about it. I know the little shit was lying, but I guess he forgives me. That was cool of him.

Sept 29th Lucas made the team and thanked me for the advice. I don't feel like I did anything.

Oct 4th I'm feeling better than ever. Driving around on my own again. Nobody seems to blame me for what I did, and everyone's nice everywhere I go.

Oct 11th Went to see El. She's always kind to me. She's like the little sister I never had. She made me some waffles.

Oct 15th Saw Harrington again. It was warm so we went swimming in his pool. I really missed the water.

Oct 29th Haven't been writing much down. It feels like I'm saying the same things over and over. Everyone's always nice to me. Dad's not bothering me anymore. I feel like I have a lot of support around me. For once I feel safe. Oct 31st Went to a halloween party with Harrington. First time having a beer in months. Got a little too drunk and we kissed. He didn't seem to hate it. I didn't either.

Nov 9th Finally talked to Steve again after the kiss. He asked if I wanted to go steady. I said no at first, then changed my mind. I'm glad I did.

Steve smiled as he read every entry. Every few days, Billy's entries were longer and longer. He talked about things that made him smile, people he met, and how much he appreciated the simplest things. It was an amazing transformation. He continued to read the entries, his eyes widening when he read the most recent one. January 12th 1986 I'm falling in love with Steve. I was hoping he’d say it first but he hasn’t said anything. Maybe I’m too hopeful. He treats me like he loves me too, I think. But I’m not sure. Steve quickly closed the book, feeling like he'd violated Billy's privacy by reading something he hadn't known before. "Why so quiet, Steve? You read yesterday's entry, huh?" "I—yeah. I thought maybe you wrote it in the wrong journal."

"I didn't. I was gonna tell you, I just...I dunno. I didn't want you to think I was trying to move too fast."

Steve laughed. "You have no idea how relieved I am."

Billy narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Billy, I've been in love with you for weeks."

Billy snorted. "You're such a sap, pretty boy."

They shared a kiss and Billy wrote in his journal about how grateful he was, to love and be loved.

January 16th On August 21st last year, I was wrong. I have everything to be grateful for.

▪️▫️▪️

A little something to show my gratitude for reaching 400 followers. I appreciate all of you ❤️

Also tagging some friends I’ve met here that really belong in my gratitude journal for all the kindness they’ve shown lately and their posts just make me smile.

@shieldofiron @monsterpegger001 @dragonflylady77 @harringroveera @bigdumbbambieyes @brightside-of-the-upsidedown @thatgirlwithasquid

#harringrove fanfiction #ivy.doc #caliscoops.doc #caliscoops

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valentiyne · 9 months

Text

𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗐𝗈 ☆ 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗎𝗆 𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽

Calum Hood x Fem!Reader Warnings: Slight Cursing & Soft!Cal. Summary: Requested! Blind date with Calum, a match made in heaven, or a bundle of awkwardness and spilled drinks? Word Count: 2.1k Copyright © 2023 Valentiyne. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻

You weren't even sure how you managed to end up in this position.

Your skin-colored leggings suffocate your thighs, your heels marking your ankles with raw blisters, and the mini skirt your roommate begged you to wear riding up every damn step you take. She wanted to play matchmaker for the night, claiming this guy she knew from work was "my other half." Now here I was, walking down Hollywood Boulevard in an outfit that a paper towel could probably cover more skin.

The restaurant she told you to meet him at was 20 minutes away from our shared apartment, and you had to be shoved to finally walk out the door. I had no idea who I was meeting or his name.

"You have fun, be safe and I packed a few condoms in your bag!", she pushed me out the door, waving ecstatically with a high-pitched squeal.

A few?

I look up the see the tiny diner come into view, her excuse being "he can't technically be seen in any major restaurants." whatever that means.

Pushing the doors open, I look around the empty room. It wasn't too late at night, only being 7PM- but it was a Monday. The back walls were all mirrors, making me avert my attention to myself and what I was wearing once again. I had stopped and looked at my reflection every chance I got on my way here, and now that I'm placing it in this diner- I am way overdressed. A few coffee pots were on warmers, probably hours old and bitter. The jukebox in the corner was playing some Elvis song that Chloe could name if you played it backward, and I smiled at the thought nevertheless.

"Have a seat anywhere", the waitress calls from the back and I give a faint smile to her. I spot someone sitting in the back left corner, opposite to the Jukebox, a menu propped up to cover their entire face.

Is that him?

I slowly walked towards the booth, looking around once more before standing in front of the occupied table. I cleared my throat quietly, hopefully to grasp their attention.

"Excuse me? Um are you here for a date", I ask after no response, mentally praying I wasn't completely embarrassing myself with a total stranger.

The menu flew down with a gust of wind following, my hair twirling back as I made eye contact with brown eyes and freshly dyed blue hair.

"Hey, Yeah that's me", He smiles nervously, his hand leaning up awkwardly to shake. I quirk an eyebrow at him and slowly slide into the booth across from him, shaking his hand slowly.

"I'm Y/n, a friend of Chloe's", I smile nevertheless, ignoring his very visible awkwardness.

I glance down at the table now, noticing the single menu sprawled out infront of him.

He clears his throat before speaking, extending his hand out once more before retracting it quickly, "I'm Calum."

"Any reason there's only one menu, Calum?", I lightly joke, pointing down at the menu he still had grasped in one hand. His eyes go wide and he slides it over to my side of the table, muttering curse words under his breath.

"Shit sorry, I completely spaced it and told the waitress it was a table for one- maybe two", a hand flies up to the back of his neck and I take note that they are painted silver, clasped with multiple various rings.

I put a hand up to reassure him, a light smile paints my pink lips and he throws his head back and laughs- mainly at himself.

"Tell me about yourself?", He dares to ask, his eyes looking up to meet mine as I focus my attention on the condensation dripping down and pooling from my water glass.

"There's not much to say really, I'm a full-time employee who barely has time to sleep", I laugh softly, toying with the straw settled in my water. That was the stupidest response I could've given.

"I understand the no sleep, I'm always on tour with my mates so sleep is usually the least of my worries", He leans his back against the seat, folding his hands on the table neatly.

"You're in a band? What do you play?"

Calum proceeds to tell me everything there is to know about him- life on tour, the crazed obsessed fans, and the 'sexy' bass he picked up the other night. I sat and listened to every word of it, not bothering to interrupt how passionate he sounded about his hobbies. It gave me a sense of relief knowing he didn't find me boring compared to his hectic lifestyle, maybe even reassured that there's more to life than status.

"Were you two ready to order?", the waitress from before calls from a few tables away, her hands full with ketchup bottles. I look down at my phone to notice that Calum had been talking for 30 consecutive minutes- not letting the overworked waitress take our order sooner.

"Oh yes! I'm so sorry, can we just get one banana split to share?", I smile at the girl and she returns the favor with a slight thumbs up.

Calum turns to me with a laugh, "Really?".

"What?" I laugh now too, it was almost contagious at this point.

"A banana split? I invite you to dinner and you get desert?"

My mouth drops open, and I lean across the table to playfully smack his hand. He retracts his hand quickly, reaching up to push two fingers against my forehead to stop me from reaching across any further.

"There's nothing wrong with dessert for dinner, Calum"

"Never said there was, Y/n"

He shrugs in agreement before pushing his water to the side to make room for the incoming plate. The waitress places the monstrous desert before us, two spoons on the plate and she drops a few napkins at his side.

"You two enjoy!"

We both thank her kindly before I look back towards Calum, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he tries to process how we are both going to manage to finish this. Instead, he leans down with his mouth open wide at the desert to playfully take a chomp at the whipped cream that was piled on.

"Calummmm", I whine, swatting him away as he gives me a cream filled smile. I watch as his eyes make contact with the mountain of whip cream before him and devilish smirk appears. He then leans up quickly, snatching a scoop of the whip cream with his fingers to fling at me. I burrow closer to me seat, protecting my face with my hands as I squeal loudly. In one swift moment, his hand reached across towards me and knocked both of our waters onto the table- destroying our desert.

"Oh shit", he says quickly, his hands flying to tug the napkin from under the plate between us and attempting to clean the mess with one lone napkin.

"You're an idiot", I say in between laughs, my hands wrapped around my stomach to contain the pain now emerging with every breath.

He grumbles something under his breath before he begins laughing himself, his cheeks squishing against his eyes and face bright red.

"Can I say I officially ruined this date? Yeah?" Calum inquires, his eyes traveling down to the drenched shirt I now wore.

"Nah, I think it's probably the best date I've ever been on", I scoop up a piece of our watery banana split, eyeing it for a moment before dropping the spoon back down in the puddle. Calum works on cleaning the rest of the water off the table, attempting to ease the workload on our waitress.

"Let me get you a new shirt at least?", He opens his wallet, tossing more than enough to cover the bill before sliding out of the booth. I nod in agreement and push all the dishes to the front of the table for the waitress, giving him a laugh before sliding out with him.

"Already trying to take my clothes off?", I tease, earning a new formed look of horror on his face. "I'm just teasing, sure I would love a new shirt." He extends a hand down for me to take and I gladly accept it, walking out of the diner with an apologetic wave to the waitress. Calum kept his hand clasped in mine tightly, his head bowed down up until the point we reached the car. I paid no mind to it, knowing the underlying meaning behind the secrecy of our encounter.

"Is it okay if we go back to mine? If you want I can take you home and-", He begins rambling, his hand opening the passenger door for me. I nod my head, plopping down into the seat and clasping the seatbelt across my chest. He gives a faint smile and closes the door behind me with a "Watch your tail."

As he walked around the car to his side, I could've sworn I heard a "Yes!" from under his breath.

Calum's house was more than I expected, it was clasped with vintage decor and numerous shelves honoring his awards and medals. Sure, I knew he was in a band, but this wasn't what I exactly had in mind. I think I expected the house to be littered with clothes from numerous hookups or even just sheets of music paper everywhere. He tossed his keys into a bowl in the hallway, slipping his shoes off and neatly tucking them away. I take note of it and slide my heels off as well, pushing them aside as I step onto the cold hardwood.

"Let me grab you something to wear", Calum says as he makes his way down the hall and toward what I'm assuming is his bedroom. I hear little footsteps bolting my way and I turn around to see a salt and pepper puppy at my feet, circling me as it sniffed.

"Hey little guy", I crouch down to offer a hand before scrunching at its neck.

"I wasn't sure if you wanted a hoodie or a shirt since your top is kinda small- not that that's a bad thing but you must be cold from the wa-", his voice echoes in the hallway, getting louder before he suddenly stops infront of me.

"Who's this?", I ask as the dog licks away at my hand, tail wagging so quickly I was sure he would start floating.

"Oh! I forgot to mention I had a dog", Calum crouches down, picking up the dog and placing him on the couch next to him. "That's Duke, hope you're not allergic or anything." I shake my head, my heart growing at the mere thoughtfulness that he has shown me throughout the night.

He holds up two options to wear. The first being a white and red t-shirt with some type of writing sprawled on it and the second being a oversized green hoodie with embroidery on the front.

"Now these are my prized possessions, If I let you borrow one I'll expect a second date in return. Deal?" He says hopefully, holding both out towards me and I hesitate for a moment between the two.

"They are that important to you huh?", I smile and grab the hoodie to feel the texture of it before deciding on it, grabbing it from his hand. He points at a door down the hallway he just exited from with a nod,

"You have no idea.."

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wulvercazz · 3 months

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More Than Curiosity🌙

previous ShadowAU~ it's all smut from here on tbh, very dubcon-y so mind the tagss💕

cw// terato, entomology/insect killing/mounting mentions, groping

"I know you're there..." Liquid darkness slithers across the floor at his words, indignant... almost relieved. Ichigo isn't entirely sure this isn't another attempt at a nightmare, he's had enough life-like enough dreams to doubt, and yet he wouldn't be surprised if he was, really, fully awake. He has enough proof and experience to know there's something not of this world under his bed. Something he learned not to tell psychiatrists about, if he wants to keep his broken sanity intact. It better be real, his mind provides, when a near three meter high creature takes shape from the pool of shadows at the foot of his bed. Its velvety, fluid, state, taking a more solid, skin-like, look to it the further it incorporates into reality. The thing growls in his face, a guttural, echoing sound reverberating all along its body before it rings through his bones. Ichigo realizes, with a crooked grin, that he feels a similar facination about it as he does when he watches his invertebrate specimens die inside a jar. It twists and moves somewhat unnaturally, a dying carcass returning to a lively shape... It attempts to speak- and all Ichigo can think about is the crude way his dick jolts awake when it opens its mouth full of shadowy teeth. Shadows dripping off its face in inky droplets, only to mix into the darkness of the room like it was water. He wants to take in as much as he can, lest he be dreaming for real; with wide, burning, tired, eyes, he examines every inch of him. He can't remember the last time he ever felt real arousal for anyone, or anything. Girls with issues such as his would often try to throw themselves at him, the creepy aura off him called in those who had fathers they wanted to disappoint in this particular way, he supposed; but, real or fake interest, it was never enough to get him quite like this. Fat and heavy against the soft worn fabric of his underwear; so hard he could faint, and so eager to touch that his fingertips tingled, electrified. If it could speak, Ichigo cut those guttural words short with his curious hands; reaching over to feel the silky black hair and the darkened skin, breathing in deeper when the single touch reverted the things face back to a plain face plate with a pair of confused blue eyes. Hah, so it's not really one to be touched, he supposes. Whatever it is, it's used to hiding so well no one ever knows it's there at all... Dark pride swells in his core just thinking about being the only one, or one of few, to see such an exquisite creature, to touch it's surprisingly soft hair and warm skin... to breath in its ashy scent, and gaze down it's glowing pale eyes. His heart beats so fast he's not sure he won't lose consciousness for real, his breathing fast and ragged as his fingers became a grabby fist and a flat palm; hungrily tracing all it's soot black skin like he owned it. Pulling it's body in close to better look into its eyes press himself to the warmth of its shadowy bits still without shape. "Whatever the fuck you are..." he mutters, losely hoping it will understand, "I'm gonna fuck the hell out of you."

#ShadowAU #ichigo kurosaki #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #ichigrimm #一グリ #demon!Grimmjow #smut #nsft #grimmIchi #bleach

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pascalsbby · 10 months

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The Devil & His Brother

Prologue

Joel x Tommy x Reader

Summary: 3K / Joel x Tommy x f!reader

The day he killed you is the day you fell in love with him. You died in his arms, just grateful there was a God, wondering why he was on his knees for you, holding you, after you spent your entire existence denying his very own.

The one in where you fall in love, lust, with both of the Miller boys. But only one can have you. Right?

Series Warnings: 18+ mdni, eventual smut. Outbreak, Jackson, slow-burn, angst/comfort, age gap, power imbalance, possessive tendencies, drugs/pills/alcohol, threesome, major daddy issues (that’s why you need 2 daddies instead of 1). Talk of death, God, the Devil himself. Girlfriend sharing, cuckholding, begging Miller boys. Probably some shared brotherly words of encouragement, voyeurism, age gap, dominate & aggressive, pet names, praise kink, all holes filled <3, ‘he’ talks you through it, tells you what to do.

Unreliable reader for now- uhhh she’s dying.

“I choked / on such longing I couldn't spit out. Yes, desire is so different / when God bore you hungry.”

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

Warm water soothing an aching throat, cold, sweet fingertips from cherry seeds staining white napkins. His fingerprints burned into your core. Deep red in the corners of your wet mouth, dripping down the side of the horse, painting the snow carmine. The baritone of his voice shaking through the pool of blood, “What’a shame. Hell, woulda made a pretty wife.”

The sweetest part of a cherry is its heart. Suckling, rolling, and removing the fine skin with your teeth. Your skull hitting the ground. Red. You’re scared you’ll choke on it, but you don’t spit it out. You can’t. The sweetness is gone and you’ve accidentally bit your tongue.

The splitting of cherry skin, from teeth to skull. Loud, thunderous around the sound of cicadas screa- no, singing you a lullaby. Hips, swaying.

God humming.

It’s darker now, you can hear the thud of hooves imprinting the cold, every single movement screaming through your being. You were sat atop stretched denim over thick thighs, rugged and hot against the freezing expanse of your exposed skin.

They leave most of themselves behind- stem, seed, head, heart- the cherries. Sacrilegious-ly religious-ish. Or something. Had you known religion? Starstuff sounded better than dirt. Would you die from the gunshot wound or the cold, first?

No. But anything stands in for a cross, especially when he’s sitting there above you vertically, heart opened horizontally. He was looking down upon you, holding you against his body. Floating.

You’re warm, you’re warm, finally you’re—

And your body slackens as your brain does too, from him. From the ground, the sky, the back of this horse. Blue, blue- black. The last rising of your chest, cold air running through the sharp pains in your throat. Mouth dry, silent, slack.

Was this the dust part? You don’t want to say good night to the moon, so you you look up at her and make eye contact with her comforting stare- and you don’t blink- because blinking is returning to the looming darkness. Blinking is allowing the night to take you. The warmth from his body upon yours, melting your body into the ground. The moon is so bright.

And she looks down upon you and whispers, “I’ve got you bunny - I’ll hold your hand and you just think about those stars. How pretty they look right now- jus’ for you.” Even the moon sounded like him.

“We’ll be home soon, baby.” He pleaded.

Home.

A scream. Not one of terror, one of defeat- desperation. Vilely testing through the back of his throat.

A release… comfort.

A death.

Your own.

He was supposed to save you. He was like water- quenching and soothing your aching throat before you drown in it.

Fire, warming you- before burning you alive.

Tears releasing, falling, leaving- before the pain in the back of your throat, slithering to your jaw.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

Three resounding gunshots bounced off the distant hills, the thick snow-covered ground. The sound carrying its ominous message far and wide while the silence that followed bore witness to the weight of their deadly intent. Feet, crushing the crystals against the Earth, running from your falling body, rather than to. More than just a pair, moving in the apposite direction. Smaller, smaller, gone.

One sound traveled further, still quivering in your ears, kissing the air around your body as the bullet made a home in you. Your own death tearing from your mouth into the now, quiet, night. Even the cicadas had stopped howling, feeling the force of yours as it tore through your stomach, out of the back of your throat. You rested your head upon the soil and suddenly the ocean was inside of your ears. The mumbling of hurried male voices, anger, present.

The ground was holding you, and it was so cold.

"Mierda,” another beings voice stuck in the thick air, furious at his God. "What the fuck are you doing?”

Their identical voices now filled with resentment, clashed, and you felt like an intruder in your own death. You hadn’t excepted it, but they had. And God was speaking again “- ‘till you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; for you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” He was blessing you before fate found death and invited her in.

His boots reached your ears last. He was immense, expansive- held shoulders that could carry you to safety, if he so pleased. But he didn’t. You don’t know why God chose today as the day you were going to die… why he was lying about it to one of his most loyal servants. He had shot you. His eyes were the first thing you’d had seen as soon as the barrel of his gun lowered behind the bushes.

You had wished for death so many times, it was almost a relief that this, was it. There was nothing reaching around inside of you pulling your organs closer to the ground. Even though that’s where we mostly end up these days— in ash. Burned, split into stardust. Or thrown on top of each other in endless pits, burned to Earth once more. Entering the world is painful enough. Why can’t we exit it peacefully?

Maybe this was peaceful enough. You were lucky he was here to take you home. Even in his hesitancy. Even in your own confusion as to why he had to take you right now. You’d been alone for three years before this moment. Yes, you were grateful it was him.

It could have been his brother, instead.

But you’d been a good girl, you knew you wouldn’t be meeting the Devil anytime soon.

He wasn’t in a hurry walking towards you, no. The ground was moving under your ear as he disturbed the dirt with the fist of his boot. You had been looking at him the entire time, sideways, face pushed into the dirt where you landed. Your body felt the presence of his before he was back in your eyesight, and suddenly you knew you needed to move. Your mind had accepted death, but your body hadn’t. He could shoot you again, put you out of your misery. But you were too far away from where you wanted to perish. The graves of your family, too far away. It’s too soon to die, please let me get to my family first.

Even God does what he needs to survive his guilt.

There was no remorse in the way his arm slung over the gun, beading sweat running towards whatever it could caress, his other arm resting beside him. He was sturdy, infinite as he rose closer… he knew he was successful in his attempt. His entire figure blurred as tears rolled horizontally down your face. He wasn’t worried that he’d killed you- that was his goal. He was worried you weren’t dead. And that just wouldn’t do.

His overworked cowboy boots were standing before you, kicking up ground into the dusk. His heals clicking louder, shotgun returned to his hand and pointed towards you; he locked his eyes into yours with an unnervingly malevolent gaze. It hurt to move, so you didn’t. You could hear him breathing, wondering for how long you’d be doing the same. At least you were leaving at the hands of God- not from the mouth of a Clicker.

How do they feel dying? Someone had told you a long time ago about how they’re still conscious up there, through it all- taking over the functions and body but leaving the brain to feel. Relief then, probably. To finally return to the ground with their brothers and sisters, not caring if it takes fire and gasoline, and his hands around your neck. You were okay with death if it meant never ending up even further caged inside your own brain. Or the end up in the act of taking someone else’s.

You whimpered at him, unable to move anything but your eyes, so you bore into his. He must have somehow set you on fire, your body scorching and reaching for air as he looked over you. You saw God in just the creases of his eyes— they smile, adorning his warm skin. The wrinkles whispering love songs to the skin they get closer to. “I am moving with you (time)((love)).” Age. Speckled. Small spots turning into stars in a night sky.

His irises were warm, far away, like he’s looked death in face, shaken its hand and kissed it better- and failed, mercilessly. Big and brown, eating away at your flesh. They were so sad, but not for your fate. They were sad that your fate had to be the same as the people he’d lost before. The ones you had lost. How everyone goes these days. He was sad it all turned out this way.

You knew in that moment that he’d seen this before- death. Of course he had. At his age, brows furrowing and light speckled against the darkness of his beard. The creases in his face softened as he looked into you.

He’s seen this before- a young girl bleeding out into the red dirt, fading, whispering away from a dying world. You stare up at him, knowing he is waiting for a response that you didn’t have. Spare me, you thought. His thick fingers curled around the base of his weapon and his knuckles turned white beneath the dried blood and dryer skin. He was contemplating. He was trying to forget.

Your own blood pooling, his knees cracked as he bent down to get a closer look. You felt yourself slipping as his fingers brushed over your skin in an understanding nod.

“I know it hurts, baby.” You may not be able to feel another’s hands, soon. You were weeping. “But I ain’t gonna hurt you sweet thing. Stay still.” The last bit a demand, rather than a suggestion.

He took in your form as your own blood cooled beneath you. He was making a decision. Suddenly, his face pained, burrowing the depth of his pain between his eyebrows. Were you praying to him? Screaming his name in vain? Begging for forgiveness?

He held his hand over you, pausing before reaching you and sinking his fingertips to your flesh, feeling. In the same motion, he lifted your shirt, brushing his knuckles across your side. You felt it. Deep.

He moved on to the legs of your pants, searching for the exact entry point. You wailed when his fingers danced on top of your skin. Eventually losing patience, he flattens his massive hand flesh to you, and slides his hands up your body. There it was, right above your hip bone on your left side. You were going to die. You, now covering him, seeping warmth into the cracks of his skin. Your DNA fusing into his. Your throat hoarse.

He stared down at you for a moment before he let out a sigh and picked you up, grunting at the weight of another human in his arms. He laid you on his lap and you stayed, languidly, letting him do as he pleases. It’s not as if you were really feeling much besides the consistent fire kissing your veins. The very veins that are bleeding onto his lap, seeping into his own cuts- you found yourself contemplating, hoping, there was still more seats left in the Heaven at his feet.

“Shhh, relax baby, stay still. Gonna be j’us fine sweet thing. Patchin’ you up. Gonna find the rest of ‘em then we’ll get somewhere safe, okay? Sun’s settin’. Need you to be still.” He hurried through his words, looking around for who could be inviting themselves into the party after hearing you struggle. He reached for a knife in his pocket and you let out another wail. He winced at its power and tore his sleeve from his shirt, securing and adding pressure ever so slightly to your side.

Them?

“This wasn’t supposed to happen, fuck.” He yelled another man’s name and then he was chanting quickly under his breath, “fuck, fuck, fuck.” He was doing a sour attempt at controlling his bodily reaction to you as you lie over his lap, soaking his denim in your blood.

As the seconds ticked by, you felt a surreal detachment from the world around you, his cooing voice seemed to slip from your grasp, as if you were drifting away from reality. It was peaceful, until it wasn’t. He was attempting to move you. The sun was setting. For the last time.

“Look how fuckin’ young she is Tommy.” And then another Angel appeared. He was angry as he looked down upon you, but it wasn’t directed towards you. He must have seen it in your eyes, death. “We got you baby. Settle down.” The voice was solid and clear, unlike the other. This was the person he was yelling for.

“I didn’t fuckin’ do it Tommy. I didn’t.” There was pain in his voice. Anger. God spoke and you thought maybe another bullet had entered your skin. You screamed like it had and the warmth spread.

Suddenly God wasn’t as he appeared before. His blood-red appearance contrasted sharply with the angelic figure beside him, his heat poured over your being as the Angel standing next to him wept; both of whom seemed strangely familiar to each other, though not to you. Their faces were disappearing into themselves, blurring.

He sneered into you and you felt it vibrate your bones. Looking as if he was laughing. Or maybe he was screaming. Everything, you, are fading at this point. The caress of the sky, humming lullabies into your hair.

His drawl sounds oddly beautiful running from the tip of his teeth, touching tongue, to the hot mid-July dusk; the mosquitoes riding around on droplets of wet dampenings- the sound settling at the base of your eardrum and running like water towards your center. Than towards your hip bones. He looked different now as he sang you to sleep, brushing his thick, callused fingers down the side of your face, nook of your neck, clearing it from the dirt that has already made a home in your skin. Your matted hair sticking to drying lips, yours.

You needed to focus on something- the slick of his mouth, lips, opening. Tongue running outwards until his teeth bit down. He runs his flattened fingertips against your scalp, trying to calm the pain of fading from the world. He had a mustache, graying facial hair. He was haunting.

There was nowhere else to look, his form hovered above you in contemplation.

Gazing upon him was like glimpsing a celestial being. Maybe the sun, itself, coming down to Earth to scorch it anew. He was red. Fire. He was melancholy, sadness, and so goddamn pretty.

He wasn’t God. He was Lucifer himself- a morning star. Light-bringer. Life-taker. Eenie meanie mini mo. He was heralding the dawn.

The other one, who at first you thought was Angel, must be God. He was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. But there was something about the one that almost smiled like the Devil. The one cast in red. The one who killed you. Amidst the echoes of their argument, you couldn't help but wonder if there was more to their anger than just the fact that the pretty one had shot you.

Amidst the confusion and pain, you heard distant voices calling out to you. The words sounded far away, as if you were standing three rooms away, ear against the door.

“Hey-“ it sounded closer now, coming from the emitting light. “Gonna hold you tight now Bunny, don’t move.”

He’s gone, the warmth from his fingertips has set in on their initial touch, burning heat like vines across your arm, stomach. Each bite individually riding its way towards your ears, body, core. You’re put atop something hard. In. Out. Holding less air than the lowered clouds in front of you.

Fire kissing at your stomach, making you wonder if it was from where his hand was sprawled, lower, pushing, hoisting your legs upwards, carefully unto another warm being- a horse.

You were too tired to keep your eyes open. So you closed them and softly said goodbye to yourself. The only words you had spoken, and no one has heard them. They were just for you.

As you close your eyes and slide further into the darkness, you find it almost humorous, the entire story of your death.

Sure, no one told you God was a cowboy, but they never mentioned the Devil was, too. And it seemed a lot more people had met the Devil. Including you.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who commented on the intro post. Please let me know what you think 🥹 smut happening… SOON! Y’all mean the world!!

Tag List: @worhols @mishasminion360 @justagalwhowrites @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @romanarose @milla-frenchy @bandluvr97 @alwaysdjarin @basicoccult @hellfyreroz @northernbluess @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @pr0ximamidnight @bambydxll @morgaussy @n7cje @theywhowriteandknowthings @gracie7209 @pedritoferg @twirl731 @med494 @k-ra @megangovier20 @rayslittlekitten @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @gintheginger @obscurexsorrows @cool-iguana @livingdeadmaria @ours-is-a-strange-fate @sarap-77

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