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girlboypersonthingy · 3 months

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Hi yes i saw hazbin requests were open??? Anything involving pining Lucifer. Or lucifer seeing reader dressed super nice for like a fancy party or something (full makeup, fancy revealing dress, that sorta thing) for the first time. Maybe feelings are revealed? I’m a sucker for pining

I love that we are all so disgustingly thirsty for this man. He deserves it ❤️‍🔥 but seriously tho…all my Lucifer posts have gotten at least 100 likes in the first day that they’re posted. Like damn yall, we need to talk about our husband more! We all have such good taste 😌 I love our little short king. Thanks for the request. Enjoyyyyyyy~

Notes: fem!reader, reader wears a dress in this one

TW: suggestive themes, hardcore pining, heavy making out

🪽The King of Pining🪽

This morning, Charlie invited everyone to the lobby of the hotel, shouting out that she had great news and a wonderful idea. Husk and Angel grumble about their annoyance with it being too early in the morning and them being way too sober for group activities right now as they plop down on one of the couches. The rest of the group files in, finding spots to relax as Charlie bounces up and down in her spot, bitting her lip and clenching her fists out of pure excitement. You follow along, deciding to stay standing and a bit behind the group, glancing back to see Lucifer coming to join the pack, standing just behind the couch that sat Vaggie and Nifty. You stare at him for a moment and when he finally glances your way, you offer him a sleepy smile and a quick wave of your hand. A small smirk finds its way to his lips as he nods his head at you, quickly looking away after.

“So…what’s the news?” Vaggie finally speaks up once everyone is settled and all eyes are on Charlie standing front and center. “Sooooooo, I had a brilliant idea that will be equally fun and beneficial to the hotel. Ready? Ready for it?” Charlie looks around the group, looking as if she might burst into flames of enthusiasm any moment now. “WE ARE GONNA HOST A BALL!!!”

Angel smirks as he nudges Husk beside him. “Heh, balls.” “She said ‘ball’, jackass. Singular.” Husk spits back, rolling his eyes as he scoots away from Angel a bit.

“It’ll attract new recruits for the hotel! We can mingle, talk about all we have to offer. AH! It’s gonna be soooooo funnnnnn.” Charlie is yelling now, she can’t control herself in the slightest.

Charlie goes into explaining the details- it is to be a huge party with a formal dress code that everyone and anyone is invited to. It’ll be here at the hotel, with an open bar (Husk wants to die) and music! The group lets out noises of mixed emotions, Nifty and Angel shouting out of excitement and anticipation while Husk and Alastor both let out noises of dread. You, on the other hand are nervous but looking forward to having a fun night and getting to know the hotel staff and residents better. As Charlie’s speech ends, the group begins to disperse and talk amongst themselves.

You watch as Charlie approaches Vaggie, shyly dropping to her knees in front of her on the couch so that they are eye level with each other. “Will you…be my date to the ball, Vags?” You can’t help but smile as you watch Vaggie laugh, her cheeks and nose slowly changing color. “Of course, you goofball. You’re my partner. There’s no one else I’d rather go with.” They share a long hug, a beautiful positive energy radiating off of them.

“They’re just adorable, aren’t they?” The low, charming voice that sounds right next to you causes you to flinch a bit, now turning to see the king of hell himself standing beside you. “Oh! Hey. Yeah. They are pretty cute. They make a great couple.” You look back to the two girls holding hands and giggling but Lucifer keeps his eyes on you, taking this opportunity while you’re distracted to examine all the little details of your face up close. Hopefully no one else catches sight of him in this moment of utter hopeless romanticism.

When he finally snaps out of it, he lets out a sigh before putting on his best smile, clearing his throat just to get your attention again. “Speaking of great couples~” And as soon as your eyes land on him again, your lips curved up ever so slightly, his courage quickly leaves him. Lucifer freezes for a moment, mouth going dry as he tried to find a way out of this. Say something you idiot.

“I-I ha! I uh…I wonder what other great couples we’ll see at this party. Maybe some of hell’s highest royalty?” Nervous chuckles just keep rolling from his lips and he’s really hoping you don’t notice the way his hands are shaking as they rest on his cane. One of his trembling hands comes to the collar of his shirt, lightly yanking it down as if that would help bring air back to his lungs, the air you’ve sucked out of him with one simple glance.

“Hm. Yeah. Maybe.” You reply plainly, looking back to Vaggie and Charlie and before you can converse with Lucifer any further, he’s walking off with his tail between his legs, eyes wild and full of doubt. “You’ll be there. You are the king of hell after all, I’m sure everyone will be too focused on you and Charlie to notice any other royals. Are you uhm…planning on going with anyone?” You ask, still watching the two girls near the couch. Your voice stops Lucifer in his tracks, making him pause for a moment as he listens. He turns slowly back to you, wearing a bashful smile as he tucks both his arms behind his back.

“No, actually. I hadn’t even thought of it.” He lies, watching as you finally pull your gaze from his daughter and relax it on him. He slowly saunters back your way, unable to control his wandering eyes. “And what about you? Do you have anyone in mind that you’d want to go with?” And now his nervousness is rubbing off on you, making your voice shake as you respond. “Me? No, no…I’ll probably just tag along with uh…”

As you look around the room, it seems all couples have already paired up. Vaggie and Charlie sat on the couch still, Charlie’s legs strewn over her girlfriend’s lap. Angel and Husk seemed to be having a bit of an argument over what they will wear together. Angel wants to wear all pink but Husk is like FUCK NO. Even Sir Pentious was trembling in front of Cherri, as he looked to he asking her out. Obviously, Alastor is bringing his shadow along. That’s kind of a date…right?

“Uhm I mean, who knows? Maybe I’ll meet someone there.” The pride that inflated Lucifer’s chest just seconds ago seems to suddenly be punctured and drained by your lack of acknowledgment to his flirty hints. He wants to ask you to be his so badly it’s making his chest hurt now. Not his for the night, not his during the party, his all the time, any time he needs you. As he opens his mouth to speak, he hesitates and then decides to let out a heavy sigh instead. “Well..I will see you there.” And with the tip of his head, he finally turned and left you standing alone in a herd of conversing couples.

~night of the party~

You figured there’s no harm in showing up fashionably late tonight. At least, that was your excuse for showing up late. In reality, you were fully ready before the ball even started but your legs were so weak and shaky, you couldn’t find the strength to get yourself out there. So instead, you’re sitting in your room, fully clad in your nicest dress along with some accessories, sunken into your plush bed as you try to steady your breathing. Maybe if I stay here long enough in this dress, I can just say I was there but not actually go…

A knock on your door has you straightening up in your spot, a warm surprised feeling lighting up your chest. “Come in.” You respond, wondering just who was coming to see you right now. You assumed it was Angel trying to get you to come out and start partying with him. To your surprise, the princess of hell pops her cheerful little face inside your room.

“(Y/N)! I was wondering when you’d be coming…out…there. Oh my gosh! You look so gorgeous EEEEE!” Charlie steps into your room now, her big yellow eyes shining with enthusiasm and hope as she fangirls over your getup. “Oh, thank you. You look stunning yourself.” Charlie watches your eyes fluttering all around the room, unable to focus. “Yeah…I’m coming. Just…feeling anxious I guess.” Taking a deep breath, you finally stand, straightening out your dress and checking your hair in a mirror quickly. “Oh stop it! You look flawless, (Y/N). Let’s go have some fun.” Charlie quickly links arms with you and drags you out to the lobby full of people, lights and music.

Within just a few minutes of joining the party, you find yourself looking around a sea of strangers all on your own. Seems the princess of hell has a line of guests wanting to meet and greet with her. Understandable, but you’re starting to get overwhelmed. You’re desperately looking for a familiar face, needing a buddy to help you feel included and secure. As you swim through sinners and other residents of hell, head turning side to side, you finally spot Lucifer after nearly an hour of wandering around alone.

Sure, His typical white suit is nice, very flattering on him. But, oh boy, did he look fantastic tonight, heavenly even. For this special occasion, Lucifer was dressed in a deep red suit with accents of white and no hat, instead sporting his pretty, slicked back blonde hair. You’re not quick to rush to him, I mean are you trying to look desperate and pathetic? No, just stay calm. But once again, you two share a glance from afar and give each other a small wave of the hand. Lucifer looks…pained. He looks like he might just collapse to his knees and start vomiting. His shift in body language causes your smile to drop, your expression shifting to one of concern as you mouth to him ‘you okay?’.

From Lucifer’s point of view, the room became silent, empty, dimly lit with you there at the center of it all under this glowing golden ray of light. You looked angelic, innocent and sweet, elegant but also nervous and out of place and adorable and fuck it, he can’t wait. He nearly pushes the sinner trying to talk to him aside, rushing to you as his brain became overloaded with ideas of what to say to you.

With each and every stride he takes, your cheeks flush deeper shades of red. With every step, his knees begin to feel more and more like jelly. Finally, he’s joined you in the spotlight, the rest of the party fading away before both of your eyes as you stand just inches apart. Now, it’s all wandering eyes and heavy breathing from both of you. Licking your lips first, you force words out to break this awful silence.

“Wow! Y-you clean up well. You look nice, Luci.” As your voice reaches his ears, his dream-like state abruptly ended. The room floods with loud music, chatty people and bright lights again. He seems to perk up at your compliments, feeling like a dog in heat as his eyes travel up and down your lovely outfit. You watch as his eyes finally leave your waist and come up to meet your own gaze.

“Holy hell. You look absolutely divine.” He scoffs quietly, wondering how an angel like you ended up down here. “Oh, Lucifer.” You swat a hand at him and you can feel your face burning up, sweat starting to form on your upper lip and forehead. “Stop it. You flatter me.”

Lucifer looked as if he might pass out, becoming more and more flustered the more you blush. Although, a pleased smirk graces his face because oh~ you like when he flirts with you, huh? It’s okay, he’s hella into you too.Together, you’re just a ticking time bomb of gushy feelings and sexual tension. He figures if he wants to have any chance of confessing his feelings to you tonight, his best option is to lead you out of the way and put a little distance between you two and the crowd. So, he reaches out and gently takes your hand, pulling you along to the now vacant bar with an extremely forced and up tight grin.

Husk is standing behind the counter, looking not as irritated as you’d thought he would tonight. Luci pulls out a stool for you, gesturing for you to sit before he does because he’s a gentleman and ladies always go first. “Hey. Whatcha want, doll?” Husk ask you first, giving you a wink after you answer. “And for you, sir?” He eyes Lucifer who shakes his head, politely refusing his offer. As Husk begins whipping up your drink, yet another tense silence falls between you two.

“Are you having a good time?” The blonde finally speaks up, side eyeing you. “Eh. I’m not a big party person. I’m not a fan of big crowds either so…not really.” At long last, your unhappy and disappointed attitude brings all of Lucifer’s courage and gall to his mouth. Now’s his chance. “Let’s get out of here then.” He blurts out as Husk slides your drink to you, the bartender giving you an awkward look. “What? But all these folks wanna meet you.” Once you look over to him, a devious smile makes its way to Lucifer’s thin lips as you take your first drink. “And? I’m the king of hell! I do as I please.” He teases and now you’re both smiling brightly, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you push his arm playfully. “I love Charlie but I hate this party. Let me finish my drink first, yeah?”

Lucifer continues to side eye you and also scan over the entire room, checking out the scene as you sip on your drink. You can see his casual glances and the way he quickly diverts his attention as soon as you catch him staring. Now you’re the one feeling some bravery. You quickly and smoothly slip your hand into his, letting your thumb rub back and forth across his knuckles as you try to quickly suck down the rest of your drink.

The grip you have on each other grows stronger, tighter with each second that passes. You notice Lucifer bouncing his leg now, growing impatient and needy. As soon as a slurping noise comes from the straw at the bottom of your glass, Lucifer is trying to pull you up off your seat. He’s not worried about hiding his eagerness from you at this point, not when you’re looking like you do now and getting so blushy and shy at his flirtatious comments. He has to shoot his shot, he has to try. You’re the only person who’s made him feel young and love sick again after Lilith, he can’t afford to let you slip away too. That would crush him more than the weight of the embarrassment and discomfort he is feeling right now.

Lucifer leads you to the library, doubting anyone would be occupying it at the moment and he is correct. Finally, alone together, his hand in yours still, fingers interlocked. His big eyes, full of worry and second thoughts stare deep into yours as he gives himself a moment.

“Oh, my. Where do I even begin?” His other hand comes to yours, holding them both oh so delicately. “You…I’m so….” You nod, smiling to give him some encouragement to continue. “I want you so bad. I want to hold you, I just want to touch you already. I need to kiss you. (Y/N), I love you-“

You’re not sure what came over you but now your hands are exploring his blonde locks, your lips moving feverishly against his. Besides the faint, far away music playing, all you two could hear was each other’s soft gasps and the smacking of wet lips. At first, Lucifer was very engaged in the kiss but he was hesitant to touch you, unsure of where to put his hands. Like hell he wants to rest his claws on your hips or your butt, but he waits for you to give him the okay, his hands balled into fists and held up near his shoulders.

Finally letting him have his way, you guide his hands to your torso before breaking the kiss to whisper, “It’s okay, Luci. You can touch me.” It’s more of a whimper than a whisper but Lucifer isn’t complaining in the slightest. The tone of your voice and the feeling of finally touching your perfectly soft body had his eyes glowing bright red now.

Quickly and without warning, he crashes his lips back into yours sloppily, his long forked tongue gently gliding across your lip, giving the slightest bit of attention to your teeth. He would devour every bit of you right now if you only asked. He wished you would ask right now. He’d even beg for it…You happily let your mouth open more, inviting him in as his arms slowly stretch their way around you until he’s holding you tightly against him. Lucifer squeezes you tightly as he savors your taste for a moment, pulling a soft whine from you before loosening up.

With your eyes closed, you tried to just follow his lead and do your best at impressing and arousing him but he’s sort of doing the same. He hasn’t been with anyone like this in so long, he’s rusty as hell. So, yall are an absolute mess. After about a minute of wild making out and rapidly moving hands, you’ve found yourselves on the floor. The two of you sit up on your knees, holding onto each other as if your lives depend on it. Your hands held his cheeks so tenderly, pulling his face as close to your own as you possibly could.

Lucifer couldn’t help but smile against your mouth, a soft laugh leaving him as he remembers all those nights he dreamt of this exact situation- you looking beautiful and magnificent as always and him having the freedom to let his hands roam your darling figure. He’s been craving you, dreaming of you, wishing for you, praying for you. The laugh that escapes him results in you pulling back to get a look at him. And fuck was he gorgeous- hair a disheveled mess, the purple shadow on his eyelids smudged ever so slightly, his once impressive suit now wrinkled and shifted awkwardly on him, his lips still shiny from your saliva, his breathing loud and heavy and his smile just kept getting bigger, toothier.

“What are you laughing at?” Lucifer rests his forehead against yours, his eyes moving across your breathless, flushed face, just dying to know what’s on your mind now. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for ages, darling. More than I’ve wanted anything in my entire existence, I’ve wanted to be alone with you like this.” A breathy giggle leaves you, your hands shaking as they travel down from his face to his biceps.

“Oh really? Why don’t you stop telling me and…keep showing me?” You tease, your hands coming to rest on his puffed out chest. Your touch combined with your sweet flirting and breathy voice has all of his wings popping out momentarily. You can’t help but laugh at this, but Lucifer is all business right now. You told him to show you, and oh darling, he’s gonna teach you a whole lesson on how beautiful and ethereal you are to him…and he’s gonna teach you with only his hands and his mouth.

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x you #lucifer hazbin x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin x you #hazbin x y/n #lucifer x y/n

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sintiva · 5 months

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ARMINEEEE pt.2

pt.1 of church boy! armin

his dick practically leaked between the soft pillows of your thighs. the fluffy, burgundy comforter disappeared under the tight clasp of his fingers. it felt like you’ve been milking him for hours ‘n hours but it’s only been ten minutes and he’s came…. one, tw-, three times! “y/nnn, i’m gunnu cum, ughh godddu… again —“ the poor things overstimulated himself to the point where he can’t stop, he doesn’t want to. and you’re not doing much, but the casual stroking and warmth of your body has him hooked in between your thighs. it’s comforting, exponentially better than anything he’s experienced.

when you told him he could touch you however he liked: the first thing he reached for were your cocoa scented thighs and how they rose ‘n fell with each curious imprint he placed upon them. they fluffed and molded under his hands like a pillow. hands down the softest things he’d ever felt. he groped you so eagerly, jaw wide and eyes quivering in awe of how you felt. “their not going anywhere, i promise.” intentions for him to relax only continued his exploration like he was starved. “so you really are a goody two shoes? i figured.”

“no-no, i-i’ve done this kinda thing b-before.” he blushes; bound by his own lies you giggle and he feels his face grow hotter, embarrasment like this hasn’t coursed through his bones since the day his parents took his door “you’re lying to me? that’s no good armin, remember?” your fingers caress his face; he’s hot to the touch. “i-i have!” he’s beyond flustered at this point. he grabs onto your wrist and flashes those pretty, pleading, wet eyes, begging for you to stop teasing him so much. with each passing second they grew wetter just like his… yeah. “you just wasting your time at church huh?”

“so as i was saying…you haven’t there’s no need to lie to me, besides—” you straddle his lap, and he sinks further into the bed, his eyes widen in shock. “you’re getting this excited, wanna put it in me that bad? you wanna fill me up this bad thinkin’ about it?” armin swallows back a moan and bites down hard on his lips; flush from sheer force. you feel his thighs tremble and his grip on your skirt tighten, “why are you getting all wet, min?” your brown eyes flutter one too many times, and his heart sinks into his chest. all the breath in his lungs fans out between his lips. is he being ostracized he can’t tell, but when you glance down at him with that look… as you’re dragging your hips harder along the prominent tent in his pants, you’re making him moan so much louder, “didn’t mean to, i didn’t.” he whines and bucks up into you. this long into the night and he’s writhing,, sniffling uncontrollably and babbling on about how good you’re making him feel. “but i didn’t say you could cum, you have to control yourself armin.”

ouch:( it felt like you were upset with him-well, that came a little too late… and he came bit too early. those super ugly khakis that he wore every wednesday for bible study grew warm and wet right under where you sat. soothing, unpleasant, but more of the former, considering its spread. hot, scorching your skin, blue like the hottest flame—spreading in your stomach. you can’t blame him, you’ve been searching for something like this for a while. “didn’t your mama tell you good boys don’t make messes?” bite. this far into the night your skirts bunched up around your waist, and armin’s losing his mind. he’s tried so hard to apologize for enjoying all this — you letting him do everything he pleases. the same excuse tumbles between his lips, in that sime high pitched whiny voice while a deeper flare of red painted his skin. curiosity settles in your stomach, to think he’s acting like this — and it’s not even sex.

“i’ve….oh’y god - never felt anything like…this — like you—” you can hear the nervousness in his voice, see it in his face. avoiding, your gaze, his eyes shift back and fourth, uncertain of where he can look that won’t expose his innocence. that won’t expose how abundant his joy is. the delicacy in his voice, the slight tremble and strain in it. can’t you tell he’s working so hard to keep it in? but when you grind down so hard on his hips. bend forward to bite down on his lips, and lick them to lighten the sting, he’s cracking bit by bit. he can physically feel every part of his body throbbing and how his lust for you overflows. while your thighs envelop his length, working so hard to squeeze out every drip of cum. his chest falls and that high piles up on him, higher and higher, till it comes crashing down and he’s pumping out another sticky load.

“what are you blaming me for, you’re the one whose fuckin my thighs outta control like a pup.” his moves are sloppy, out of time, uncontrollable. “‘s too much.” bubbles out. his eyes roll to the back of his head, his fingers clamp down onto your thighs. “you don’t wanna keep using me ‘til you’re satisfied?” the hint of sadness embedded into your question deepens his feralness. it hurts so much to keep going; to keep getting consumed by your offers of induction. the ‘keep goings’ and ‘don’t stop, i want you to make yourself feel so good baby’.

“you’ve been hidin’ this big ole thing from me ‘cause of your dumb parents. you’re so mean armin.” words mean everything to this boy. there’s power in every syllable you cast from your mouth. they tug on his resolve, gratifying every action he’s taking. cursing his subordination, his inability to have something like this all the time. his parents fought so hard to “protect” him from all this corruption because, “that girl will land you in trouble, can’t you see we’re trying to do what’s best for you? as your parents? it’s like you don’t care about how you’ll end up, how that reflects on us…”

your words sound better, they don’t sound like you’re degrading him to make yourself feel better. affirmations encouraging all those uncertainties his parents made sure he’d be too inept to act upon. outlining all of his priorities: all the things he could and couldn’t do. truthfully he was tired of it, so letting you have your way with him; in his parents word “corrupting” him felt liberating. this newfound freedom, that his parents warned would leave a stain, felt otherworldly.

“minnn, i want you to put it inside me.” you lift up your legs by the underside of your knees. taken aback, he groans as you fall back onto the bed, thighs spread; your cream white panties were eaten up up by your pussy lips. you pull them to the side, innocently inviting him in. smearing all your mess over your pussy lips then spreading them to reveal your puffy clit. “if you put it inside it’ll feel good.” and he takes the bait. he crawls forward, and his cock twitches. outstretched, nervous; one hand takes place on your knees and the others follows in spreading the pretty girl’s legs who lay in his parents bed with arousal leaking between her ass cheeks. “wanna let you feel something better.”

"i'll teach you how to use it, but it can only be mine, k? he looks so cute and your hearts skipping beats, it's getting so loud that you can barely hear. but as he gets closer to you and begins to line it up, asking questions to make sure what he's doing is okay you hear something. "wait!" your stomach drops and your legs do the same, armin fusses so you plave your fingers against his lips. "there it is." it's faint but you can make out that sound, the eerie beeping of a key pad. the distant notification rings through the house, chime! — disarmed, ready to arm— muffled voices, keys, shoes removed, voices growing louder, creaky floor boards. "you're fucking parents."

the two of you jump up. "fuck, fuck, fuck. armin! you said they weren't coming back til tomorrow! why are they here?" the bed was a fucking mess and armin was frozen while you collected yourself. "i-i don't know." tears stream down his cheeks and he starts to panic, the realization kicks in and he's sobbing. the only thing running through his mind is punishment if his parents catch him, when they catch him and you. the girl, the only girl they've warned him about, together in their room. "they're gonna kill me and i'm never gonna see you again and they're gonna ship me away —you're gonna forget about me an-"

"armin, if you don't stop all that bull shit and listen to me." as you readjust your skirt, you instruct him on what to do in this situation. it hasn't been your first, but you're to old to be worrying about getting caught fucking by old hags "got it?" he's already started pulling the sheets off the bed, you duck into his room tossing things everywhere; pulling drawers open and scattering papers on the floor. he runs the sheets to the laundry and tosses the comforter in first as it was the scene of his crime. the sheets could wait. you dig through some of his drawers, adding to the mess; looking for nothing causing a distraction for him. you pop his window open, the alarm chimes and that tells him he needs to be in his room. it gives you time to hop out while his parents find there way to the back if the house yelling his name, but he'll get there first in enough time to...

"armin robert arlert, you better have good reason for opening your window this late at night, so help me god, before i bolt tha-" his mom's eyes twitch. the back of the house is a complete mess, and armin's jamming to the music filtered through his earbuds as he cleans your mess; the cool breeze of the night sweeping through his room. he's stripped to clean boxers and a white tank top. "what is this?" she wails, hysterical and bitchy as always. "just cleaning, my rooms a mess, ma."

"well fix it. quickly. and my sheets, i didn't tell you to take them off. but thank you." she huffs the last part out, turning on her heel stomping down the hall back to his father.

holy shit. under his breath a sigh that releases all the fear accumulated within the last 5 minutes. we pulled it off. it's hard to hear him, but the earbuds pick up enough his voice for you to decipher the static.

"i told you we would… robert."

"you're a fucking genius, but don't ever call me that again."

"you've got a filfthy mouth, maybe i should've let your momma see how her beloved robert gets down." he smacks his lips and yells a good night, embarrassed again. "who are you talking to?"

#armin x reader #armin x reader smut #armin x black reader #armin x black reader smut #armin arlert #armin smut #armin arlet x reader

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thesunsdiary · 2 years

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I’m Sun, or Flame. This blog is me documenting my progress as I try to lose weight in a healthy and steady way, with the goal of reaching a maintainable healthy weight.

Please DO NOT follow if you’re in ED recovery and calorie/weight logs will negatively affect you, you’re proana, you fetishize a body type.

More under the cut

I have PCOS and have issues with binge eating, of which caught up to me after an injury in which I was incapable of movement. To get back to my weight prior and then make it to my goal weight, I’m in a calorie deficit and exercising.

19 yrs, 5’2

Cal Goal: 1,670 daily

Next Cal Goal: 1400 daily

Current Cal. Average: 1,424 daily

SW: 268 (started Sep.)

CW: 245

GW1: 215 🚫 (expected Feb.)

GW2: 199 🚫 (expected Ap.)

GW3: 160 🚫 (expected Aug.)

GW4: 150 🚫 (expected October 2023)

UGW: 140 🚫 (unlikely)

#tw ed #calorie control #logging #health #dni th-n-po #dni proana #flame log

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senanatheskenana · 28 days

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Giyuu, Sanemi, and Rengoku With Baby Fever

TW: mentions of pregnancy, Sex, fem reader

Giyuu Tomioka

He hadn't put much thought into domestic life- after all, you were his first real relationship. However, when he lays eyes on your happy smile and the way you fussed over the three younger demon slayers, he can't help the feeling that pools in the pit of his stomach. A primal need for you, for a family. He's not particularly proud of the human weakness he currently experiences but each time he looks your way, his strength melts away, leaving only his desire to create life with you.

His smile is small but amused at how you motherly coddle Inosuke, attempting to wipe the mass of dirt off his face, despite his protests. Tanjirou seems almost as enamoured by your sweet behaviour as Giyuu is.

You can tell something is different with Giyuu- the way he holds your hand is just slightly tighter, the way he looks at you ever so slightly hungrier than you've seen. He stares off into space in contented silence, and you feel he is happiest in those moments. The idea made you curious as to what he was daydreaming about.

'Three children, maybe more' he thinks, pink tinging his cheeks at feeling so soft for you. He imagines what life outside of the corp- life with you- would be like. Blissful, peaceful, connecting but of course with moments of excitement and frustration that come from raising children. Maybe your children would have his hair and your eyes- or perhaps they will look the opposite, or exactly like you or him.

His cheeks once again flare up when another thought hits his head.

'And (y/n) would surely only become more beautiful over the years'

"Giyuu~." He is snapped out of his fantasy by your hand over his. "What are you thinking about?"

He gently squeezes your hand, looking deep into your eyes with humility as he thinks through the right words to say.

"We've been married for a year, and we haven't talked about it yet. I would completely understand if you object... but i have a request, that involves both of us." you listen eagerly to him.

"Sweetheart, i will always try my best to understand your wants, there's no reason to seem so nervous," you smile tenderly at him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks. The apples of his cheeks burst into flames at your touch, butterflies erupting underneath the skin of his shuddering chest.

"(Y/N) I love you. I will always love you... And if you will be so kind, I would like to start a family with you"

He sees your face break into a smile, which makes him smile. Before he knows it you're climbing into his lap and kissing him with a passion that fills him with a need he has never experienced.

Kyojurou Rengoku

Kyojurou was sure he wanted children at some point, and as your husband, he made you aware of this, in case it wasn't for you. For the most part, your husband had great self-control.

However, it always seems to slip away when his younger brother makes a comment, about how your baby would probably have bright hair like theirs. At first, it's just that thought, but soon he's thinking about baby names, daydreaming and kicking his legs behind him giggling. You easily notice your cheerful husband becoming even more giddy than usual- not to mention far more physically affectionate.

He finds every excuse under the sun to get you under him. He takes his time, forehead pressed against yours, enraptured in pleasure. Your legs are pressed to your chest; a new position for you. The sheer depth is enough to make you dizzy, even without moving.

Kyojurou looks deeply into your eyes before kissing you passionately, sensually, as if the world is ending.

"Honey, i think we should have a baby!" he huffs out in between languid thrusts. You thought he'd never ask.

"Me too, Kyo~"

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Sanemi doesn't not want kids. He just feels he would be a bad father given all of his hangups. He worries he won't be emotionally available for a child, or might accidentally scare them when he is angry.

So this feeling is conflicted within him. On one hand, he's utterly in love with you and the way you care for Genya is heartwarming to the point of actually convincing him he might be ok if you were by his side. On the other, he was terrified of being a bad parent.

Sanemi swears you look so pretty holding your friend's new baby. You hold it like you're accustomed to it like it was yours. And you just look so fucking happy like that. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing if he- no, he couldn't just rush into these things. But you look so pretty he's having a hard time rationalising anything.

He sits beside you, peering down at the baby that tries to grasp at his fingers. It's actually sort of cute, he thinks. Then you look up at him, and he's caught off guard by a vision of you and your own baby. Your friend has to physically bite back giggles while she watches the motions of Sanemi's thoughts. She knows what's happening better than he does.

She sparks up a conversation with you to see how flustered she can make the hashira on this topic. "You know, past the halfway mark I gave up putting on my own pants- it got too annoying when I couldn't see over the bump and boobs. My husband had to help me instead!"

It seems to work like a charm. Sanemi almost zones out, thinking about how you would look pregnant. Without realising it he is salivating at the thought of your swollen chest and round tummy. 'fuck,' he thinks, 'that sounds good'

Half an hour later he's rushing to leave, hastily pulling your coat over your shoulders and waving goodbye to the baby. He didn't dislike being there in any way- he'd just rather be somewhere else with you. He tugs you down the road, looking at you with a strange new fervour, eyes darting to your lips and tummy.

Your friend closes the door behind you with a mischievous grin. "I'll give it a week before she's pregnant<3"

#demon slayer fluff #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer imagine #demon slayer rengoku #demon slayer #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x reader #kny #kny x reader #rengoku x reader #sanemi headcanons

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smileysuh · 1 year

Text

Blood Moon

🌙 staring. Seungcheol x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “You know,” Cheol’s lips are feverish against your skin, and he kisses from your collarbone to your breasts, his hot breath driving you wild, “in some cultures, the blood moon is a sign that the moon needs to be worshiped.” His hand moves between your legs, deft fingers rubbing you through your panties while he lets out another groan of need. “Werewolves worship the moon,” he continues. “It’s what makes us who we are, but after I met you…” his other hand tears the front of your dress down, and his teeth graze by your nipple, “let’s just say, you’re all that matters to me now. And I’m going to worship you as if you were the moon.”

tw/cw. blood/claim biting, a/b/o, alpha cheol, big dick cheol, pussy worship, pussy eating, unprotected sex, fingering, squirting, exhibitionism, sex where his pack can hear it, praise, multiple positions, breeding kink, size kink, overstim, slight dacryphilia, sex on a car & the ground & under the blood moon, wet pussy kink, knotting, rough sex, dirty talk, hair pulling, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess. (his) alpha.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 5k

🍭 aus.a/b/o, alpha!Cheol, omega!reader, jealousy, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. when I tell you I need this man to ruin me

Seungcheol’s never been the type of alpha to question his subordinates, but on blood moons, his control goes out the window. When he’d announced during the formation of his pack that he’d be taking on two lesser alphas, and their preexisting betas, some elder wolves had called him crazy. They’d said it was just a matter of time till Jihoon or Soonyoung made an act to overthrow him, but in the eight years since then, Seungcheol’s never truly had any cause to suspect insurrection of any sort.

However this year, things are different. This year, he’s made another risky move that’s been questioned by wolves in and outside of his own pack.

This year, he’d fallen for a human, someone outside any of the strong wolf bloodlines, and he’d taken you as his own. His bite had transformed you into the beta you are now, and he can tell, as you approach him with eyes following your every move, that some of his pack members are still not very happy about it.

Soonyoung, in particular, makes no move to hide his gaze. He looks you up and down, and Seungcheol can even see a flash of his tongue darting out to wet his lips, a hungry spark in his eyes.

“You look upset,” you note, finally making it to your alpha’s side by the bonfire, its flames licking the night sky and casting pretty shadows across your features.

“Is it that obvious?” Seungcheol groans, wrapping an arm around your body while he adjusts the red solo cup in his hand.

“You always wear your heart on your sleeve, Cheol,” you muse, leaning closer to him. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

The alpha lets out a sigh, giving one last warning look to Soonyoung before his gaze dips to focus on you. “Can I tell you something about blood moons?”

“Please,” you nod. “I'd love to hear more, especially from you.”

He’s always enjoyed how eager you are to learn about the ways of the wolves, it’s one of the things that had drawn him to you, and he loves teaching you his culture even more.

“Ancient peoples believed the blood moon was a sort of omen, something that predicted the death or overthrow of a king.”

“I see,” you smile, leaning up to press your lips to the underside of his jaw. “You’re worried someone might have a stupid idea tonight about taking you on as alpha.”

“Others thought that blood moons were a time to explore your dark side. To dive deeper into hidden emotions like rage,” he explains further. “I think we both know that some members of my pack are still harbouring a grudge against me for my actions this year.”

“They’ll get over it,” you assure him. “And if they don’t, what’s anyone going to do about it? No one here can best you, they’d be stupid to try.”

Seungcheol knows that. Aside from being a force to be reckoned with all by himself, Seungcheol’s inner circle includes Mingyu, one of the biggest wolves he’s ever seen. Even if Soonyoung was to pick a fight with Seungcheol, backed up by Minghao, Dino and Jun, they’d never be able to overtake both him and Mingyu.

Regardless of these facts, your calming words do nothing on his restless mind. Blood moons have always been a time of heightened emotional energy, especially for the wolves so connected to the lunar force.

Instead of saying anything else, Cheol simply pulls you closer, hoping that your presence in his arms is enough to stop him from doing anything rash.

When you realize Seungcheol’s cup is empty, you break away from his side, giving the alpha a kiss that lingers before you head off to get more liquor. You’ve been feeling how tense your mate is all night, and you hope that another drink might soothe what you’re unable to.

As you walk up the beach, you notice the sound of someone following you. While you’re still getting used to heightened wolf senses, you’re conscious enough to note that the footfalls are lighter than your lumbering alphas, and you don’t dare look behind you to check who your new shadow is.

You’re safe enough on this beach with the pack around you, and despite Seungcheol’s obvious agitation and paranoia, you’d meant it when you’d told him people would be stupid to try anything tonight.

When you reach the camping table housing all the booze, you move calmly, reaching for the aged bottle of bourbon that Seungcheol loves. Your shadow takes the opportunity to make himself known, stepping next to you and reaching for his own can of beer.

“You look good tonight,” Soonyoung says, opening his drink and turning to look at you.

“Thank you,” you smile, trying to be respectful to the alpha. “I know it’s a blood moon, but it still felt fitting to wear white, besides, Seungcheol loves this dress.”

“I can see why.” Soonyoung’s eyes move down and then back up, focusing on your breasts for a few seconds while you continue to prepare your mate’s bourbon. “You know, when we heard Cheol had found himself a human to dote on, lots of us wondered why he didn’t just go for some juicy omega. But, seeing you tonight, I can see you might be even tastier than the other girls that used to fawn over him.”

You take a breath, screwing the lid back onto the bottle of bourbon before setting it down and turning to look at Soonyoung. You know he’s trying to get a rise out of you, but you won’t give him that satisfaction.

“Do you have something else to say to me, Soonyoung?”

“Just that…” he licks his lips, leaning closer to you. “I know you don’t come from our world, so it’s not like you had your pick of alphas, and I just figured, maybe there might be a better match for you than him.”

“A better match,” you repeat his words. “Like you?”

Soonyoung shrugs, flashing a grin. “You’d never know till you give me a chance to prove myself.”

“All things considered, I think you’re pretty lucky I was born human.”

“Really?” His grin widens. “And why’s that, gorgeous?”

“Because if I was an omega, I’d run off and tell Cheol about this and he’d kill you tonight.”

The smirk drops from Soonyoung’s face, and he stares you down. “Cheol wouldn’t choose you over me.”

You sigh. “If you’re willing to bet your life on that, I can always go ask him right now.” Soonyoung stays quiet and you nod. “That’s what I thought. I’d say it’s been nice talking with you, but we both know that would be a lie. Have a good night, Soonyoung.”

You pick up your drink and walk away.

This time, the alpha doesn’t follow.

No matter how safe you feel amongst the pack, it’s still something of a relief when you make it to Seungcheol’s side again.

He looks at you with concern, taking the cup from your hands so he can wrap a protective arm around your body, pulling you tight to his chest. “You were gone a while,” he notes. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod. It’s a small white lie, but you truly believe Seungcheol would tear Soonyoung in two if you tell him what just took place, so you avoid disclosure. What Seungcheol doesn’t know can’t hurt him… or Soonyoung. “I was just thinking…” you continue, tracing a finger up the front of your mate’s black v-neck, “I know I’m not generally someone who’s too fond of public displays of aggression and ownership, but… if there was ever a night to prove I belong to you, it would be tonight.”

Seungcheol blinks at you, swallowing thickly while he considers your proposition. His gaze dips to where your breasts are pressed against his chest, and you can feel his cock beginning to harden where it’s trapped in his pants between your bodies. “So you want me to take you right here?” he asks. “On the beach? In front of everyone?”

“Cheol,” you laugh, pressing a kiss to his jaw, “that’s a bit much. I was thinking… we could go to the parking lot where your car is. It’s close enough that people will be able to hear, but far enough that I’d still be comfortable. After all, if I’m yours and only yours, my body should be for your eyes only.”

“I’m not sure where this came from,” Seungcheol admits. “But you know I could never say no to you. Let’s get out of here, princess, because if we don’t, I am going to fuck you on this beach where everyone can see.”

You tug out of his embrace, flashing him a mischievous smile. “Okay alpha, then you better chase me.”

You turn on your heel in the sand, bolting towards the grassy parking lot while other members of his pack watch you. It feels like freedom to be running through the cool night air under the blood moon, and you can hear your alpha’s footfalls as he chases you.

He could catch you in a second, you both know that, but he’s purposefully moving slower than you, letting you be exhilarated by the idea of a chase. You know it turns him on as much as you, and you giggle to yourself at the naughtiness of it all.

Cheol has always brought out your wild side, even when you were human, and now, you get to revel in the primal attraction, the push and pull with the alpha that’s shown you the world, and now, the blood moon.

You marvel at the new strength of your body, the way you can make it to the parking lot, which is a couple hundred meters down the beach, without even being very winded.

The moment you reach the vehicle, Seungcheol’s hot body is pressing against your back, boxing you against his large, black truck with both hands on either side of you. “God, you’re so fucking hot,” he groans, rubbing his cock against your ass.

“I could say the same about you,” you gasp, turning so you can face him. “My big sexy alpha-”

He’s kissing you the moment the words leave you, and you tangle your hands through his dark hair tugging him closer while his mouth works against your own. He tastes like bourbon, and something about it turns you on even more. Your mate’s teeth drag across your lower lip and you let out a groan, lifting your thigh to wrap around his waist.

“Cheol,” you whimper, taking a breather as he moves his mouth to your neck, finding your sweet spot and making you moan again. “I need you-”

With a growl, the alpha picks you up, fingers digging into your ass as he moves around to the back of his truck. You begin to kiss his throat as he gets the front panel open, and then he hoists you up to rest you on it.

His hands find your thighs, pushing your white dress up and grabbing at your flesh.

“Just fuck me-” you plead, knowing your panties are already soaked. Cheol just does things to you, and you wish he’d do more.

“You know,” Cheol’s lips are feverish against your skin, and he kisses from your collar bone to your breasts, his hot breath driving you wild, “in some cultures, the blood moon is a sign that the moon needs to be worshiped.”

His hand moves between your legs, deft fingers rubbing you through your panties while he lets out another groan of need.

“Werewolves worship the moon,” he continues. “It’s what makes us who we are, but after I met you…” his other hand tears the front of your dress down, and his teeth graze by your nipple, “let’s just say, you’re all that matters to me now. And I’m going to worship you as if you were the moon.”

“Fuck, alpha-” you whimper, throwing your head back while he begins to suck on your nipple, applying more pressure to your clit with the hands you adore so much.

“That’s right,” Cheol growls, “I’m your alpha. Your only alpha. And I’m going to take care of you, like you deserve.”

“Please, I need it-”

“You need it?” His hair brushes by your chest, and then he pulls back just enough to look up at you, pushing your panties to the side so two of his large fingers can slip into your soaked core. “Tell me what you need, princess, alpha will give it to you.”

“You know what I need,” you whine.

“I want to hear you say it.”

You let out a sound of frustration, tangling your hands in Seungcheol’s hair. Then you push his head down, and your mate begins to laugh at you, his fingers picking up speed as they work to open your core.

“I said use your words,” he tuts, “not push me around.”

“I need you to worship me,” you tell him, “the way only you can.”

“That’s more like it,” he hums, satisfied as his hot kisses begin to move down your body.

He pulls his fingers out of your pussy and you whine loudly at the loss, but he needs his hands to push your dress up. He uses his teeth to tear your panties down, and you whimper at the feeling of him, watching him while unmatched lust burns through you.

“I’m going to keep these for myself,” he says, pocketing your panties before he spreads your legs, forcing you to fall backward against the bed of his truck, your elbows cushioning your fall and propping you up.

“Alpha,” you moan, a shiver running through you when he begins to kiss your thigh, working closer and closer to where you need him most.

“Fuck,” he groans, placing a kiss on your pussy that has you squealing with delight. “I love the sounds you make.” Your mate looks up at you with dark, dilated pupils. “You really do want everyone to hear this, don’t you, princess?”

The thought excites you more than it ever has before, and Seungcheol grins while watching you. “That’s what I thought. Who’s my dirty girl?”

“I am,” you gasp when his thumb comes up to play with your clit.

“You’re dripping, princess,” Cheol notes. “Just the way I like it.”

He’s forcing his head between your thighs a moment later, tongue lapping the length of your pussy and making you cry out into the night air. Your hands fly down to grab onto his hair, and your alpha growls, the vibration running through your clit and causing you to pant while his tongue invades your wet hole.

“Oh my god-” you whimper, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get more-

His palm lands on your lower abdomen and he forces you down. It’s crazy how much strength he has in just one hand, and you find yourself completely pinned to the bed of his truck while he eats you out like he’s a starving man.

The sounds coming from between your legs are absolutely lewd, not only can you hear your soaked pussy and his wet tongue, but he’s moaning loudly, thoroughly enjoying working you up the way only he knows how.

“Alpha,” you whimper desperately, already aching from how close you are.

Cheol lets out another groan, the vibrations making your legs twitch as you teeter on the edge of pleasure. “I’m gonna cum-” you gasp, tightening your grip on his hair so he can’t pull away.

But Seungcheol has no intention of pulling away. In fact, he presses his face even deeper into your pussy, lapping at you and licking- then his lips suction around your clit and you’re a complete gonner.

A scream leaves your mouth, your eyes clenching shut as your orgasm overtakes you.

Seungcheol has given you great orgasms before, mind altering, earth shattering orgasms- but nothing has ever been like this. Your brain goes completely blank as the feeling of absolute ecstasy overwhelms your body, bringing tears to your eyes while he continues to worship your core with an expert tongue.

“Alpha,” you whimper, overstimulated by his mouth alone.

Cheol finally lets up, pulling away from your pussy and taking a deep breath. You can feel him exhale against you, and it causes you to twitch from stimulation. You go to close your legs while Seungcheol straightens and looks down at you, but his hands are quick to pry them open.

“You think I’m done with you?” he laughs. “Nice try princess, but I’m not anywhere near being done yet.”

His thumb finds your clit again and your whole body jolts at the contact, your thighs threatening to close-

Seungcheol pushes them open again, letting out a growl. “You better keep these legs wide for me, princess, and take what your alpha is giving you.”

You mewl in response, whimpering when two of his digits enter your core again. “I had you on my tongue, and now I’m going to give you my fingers before I split you open with my cock. How does that sound?”

“Like heaven,” you whisper, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of his large fingers moving in and out of you slowly.

“That’s my girl,” Seungcheol grins, eyes focusing between your legs. “You have no fucking clue how sexy you are.”

You groan at the praise. You’ve always loved how Seungcheol takes his time with you, verbalizing his attraction and always making you feel like the only girl in the entire universe.

When you’d been a part of the human world, you’d heard stories about alpha wolves with harems of girls, omegas, that are even shared amongst packs. Cheol had changed your entire perception of his kind, and he’d even talked you into joining him, although… it hadn’t taken much persuasion on his part.

“Look at you, clenching on my fingers when I talk nice,” Cheol lets out a laugh. “You really are my little praise princess, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes, alpha,” you nod, moaning as his fingers pick up their pace inside of you.

“I want to watch you cum again,” he tells you. “I love watching you lose control.”

“Then make me cum,” you whisper. “Make me scream.”

Seungcheol grins. “You’ve got it, princess.”

He strokes his fingers up, finding the spot inside of you that always makes your toes curl. His other hand finds your lower abdomen, pinning you down, and you know exactly what he’s going to do next.

Your alpha mate has always had a thing for making your pussy soaked, and he’s an expert at getting you there with his fingers. No man has ever made you squirt like Seungcheol has, and no man ever will again.

“Alpha,” you whimper as his digits begin to apply more pressure to your g-spot, and you grab at the strong forearm of the hand pinned to your abdomen, needing an anchor, any anchor, so you don’t simply fly away off the bed of his truck to float through cloud nine.

“That’s it,” Seungcheol groans. “Listen to how wet your pretty pussy is.”

You love how you can hear yourself, love how you can already feel wetness between your legs as Seungcheol’s fingers work their magic. You’re a moaning mess now, and when your mate commands, “rub your clit for me,” you can hardly refuse.

Your shaky digits find your most sensitive spot, and now you can feel even more fluid gushing out of you as pleasure erupts through your form.

“Just like that, pretty girl,” Seungcheol praises you. “You’re always so fucking good for me.”

Squirting isn’t like regular orgasms, it’s a slow pressure in the pit of your stomach that builds as his fingers continue roughly inside of you, until you’re twitching and gasping and crying out. You can’t carry on with your clit, all you can do is grab at Cheol’s forearm again, taking what he gives you until he’s satisfied.

“Look at you fucking cum,” Seungcheol groans, watching you writhe on the bed of his truck while you gush around his fingers.

You’re crying again, and you can feel wet hot tears rolling down your cheeks, but you’d never tell him to stop. Not when you know you’ll be rewarded as soon as he’s had enough, as soon as he loses his own control and has to fuck you.

“Shit, princess,” Seungcheol growls, pulling his digits out of your core. “My turn.”

He grabs you with both hands, and you can feel your wetness on your skin from the fingers that had just been inside of you. In one rough motion, he pulls you off the bed of the truck, and a small scream or surprise escapes you.

Your legs feel like jelly, but your mate is quick to turn you around, forcing your upper body to lay over the front panel and bed of his truck. You hear the clink of his belt as he undoes it with expert fingers, and then he lifts up your dress. In one solid motion, he slides his whole cock into you, taking your breath away as you gasp and claw your hands against the cool metal truck frame.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” Seungcheol groans, his fingers digging into your hips as he holds still for a moment, letting you feel his massive cock stretching you out. “So wet and perfect.”

At this point, you can hardly think, let alone respond with words. The most you can do is moan loudly, pushing your ass back in an attempt to get him deeper-

“That’s right, princess,” the alpha laughs. “You’re so desperate to be fucked, aren’t you?”

“Yes, alpha-”

“Then I guess I better deliver.” He pulls almost all the way out of you before slamming back in, his hips making an audible slap against your ass while your whine of pleasure rings through the night.

“Alpha?” you whimper, a dirty, sinful, wonderful thought popping into your mind.

“Yes, princess?” He ruts into you harder, finding a brutal pace that has the entire truck rocking with each powerful thrust.

“Do you-” you choke back a moan, “Do you think… if you bred me during a blood moon… do you think it would make our pups strong alphas like you?”

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans loudly, fingers digging harder against your hips as his motions get even wilder. “You want me to breed you, princess?”

“God, yes!” you cry, pussy fluttering at the mere idea of it.

Your mate lets out a growl, fucking you so hard and deep you can feel him everywhere. He’s all consuming. You’ve practically forgotten that he’s fucking you on a car with his pack so closeby- all that matters is him right now, and what he can give you.

“Want me to fill you up until you’re practically bursting with my cum?”

“Yes, alpha-” you moan desperately, closing your eyes as you press your cheek against the cool metal truck bed.

“Want me to knot you? Spread you open so you’re ruined for anyone else?”

You’re already ruined for anyone else, and you both know it. Although you’ve been with Seungcheol for five months, you’ve never helped him through a rut, as having babies has never been something either of you particularly wanted-

But now? Now you want him, you want his knot. You want it so desperately you feel the need from the tips of your fingers to the tips of your toes.

“God, yes, please- make me yours forever,” you cry. “I’m yours alpha, forever yours-”

“Fuck, princess,” Seungcheol groans. “I need to see you.”

He pulls his cock from your aching core and you whine at the loss, only for him to grab you and throw you on the grassy ground next to the truck. He’s never been this rough before, and you’re slightly winded, but then he’s on top of you, sliding back into your core while his lips find yours.

You moan into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders and your legs around his hips, anchoring him to you while he fucks you into the ground.

You don’t care about the grass, or even the bits of sand you feel against your back. You’re so completely focused on Cheol-

“I’m going to mark you again,” Seungcheol tells you, voice low as his lips move to your neck.

The first time he’d bitten you, claimed you as his own, and turned you into a wolf like him, it had been a euphoric sensation, and your toes curl in anticipation. He’d marked you on your left side, but tonight, he goes for the right, and you realize he’s intent on there being no mistake who you belong to. That you’re taken.

“Fuck, you want me to bite you, don’t you, princess?” He groans, breath hot against your skin. “You’re squeezing me like a fucking vice-”

“Alpha, please-” you whimper, needing him more than you’ve ever needed anything in your entire life.

You don’t have to beg again, because you feel his sharp teeth grazing your throat a moment later. You hold tightly onto his broad shoulders, bracing yourself for the pleasured pain that shoots through you as he digs his fangs into your flesh.

“Alpha-” you cry desperately, digging your fingers into his shoulders as he bites deeper, ensuring a scar that will last a lifetime.

You can feel the base of his cock swelling inside of you, and the feeling is foreign, wonderful. It’s a new kind of stretch, and it leaves you gasping, opening your eyes to look up at the blood moon.

This is right. You know that.

“Alpha, I’m gonna cum,” you whisper, holding him tightly as your orgasm builds and builds, spurred on by the teeth still digging into your skin. It’s a perfect kind of pain, a pain only he can provide, and it leaves you breathless as you tip over the edge.

Your aching core clamps down on Seungcheol’s length, and you cry out at the feeling of his knot now fully grown inside of you-

Your mate lets out a growl, and a moment later you feel his cum coating your insides, filling you up like you’ve never been filled before. He can hardly thrust anymore, his knot too big to move inside of you, but you don’t mind. You think if he fucks you any longer, you might truly pass out from the pleasure.

Seungcheol releases your throat, pulling back to look down at you. You can see your blood on his mouth. When you’d been human, blood had been something scary, something dirty, but now that you’re a wolf, it’s inviting, and you wrap your hand around the back of his neck, pulling his lips to your own.

He groans, tongue dancing across yours while the metallic taste of your own blood washes over you.

With him buried balls deep in your pussy in the grass next to his truck with his pack nearby, his knot keeping him locked inside of you, and the taste of your own blood on his tongue- you think this might be the dirtiest, most sinful thing the two of you have ever done, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

There’s no shame, only acceptance, and an understanding in the back of your mind that you’ve reached your most primal peak. That this is how things are meant to be for wolves, and you are now truly a part of that.

You feel certain that after tonight, no one will ever question you as his mate again, and the thought fills you with an indescribable warmth.

“Cheol,” you whisper, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. “I love you, so, so much.”

Your mate laughs softly, pushing some hair out of your face while he looks down at you. “I love you too, princess. More than you can even imagine.”

The two of you catch your breath, holding each other close like the young lovers you are, and you slowly feel the knot inside of you begin to die down.

When Cheol is finally able to pull out of you, he sits up on his knees, tucking his cock back into his jeans before running a hand through his hair.

He’s silhouetted against the night sky and the moon, and you think it’s possible he’s never been sexier.

“As much as I want to keep these panties,” he says, pulling them out of his pocket, “I also want to make sure my cum stays in you longer. You don’t mind if I put these back on you, do you, princess?”

You shake your head, smiling at him as he gently lifts your foot, then the other, pressing a kiss to your calf as he slides your panties back on.

“I bit you pretty bad,” your mate confesses. “Let me get you up, get you seated on my truck, and I’ll grab the first aid kid to bandage your neck.”

There’s not one word of protest from you, and you marvel at how easy it is for him to lift you off the ground, setting you on the front panel.

“Wait here,” he says softly, giving you one last chaste kiss before he heads to fumble in the front cabin. He comes back a minute later holding a red first aid kit, and you watch him in a daze as he gets out the gauze and bandages.

“You might be a beta,” Seungcheol tells you, as he begins to gently wrap your neck, “but you have the sex drive of an omega, don’t you, princess?”

“Only for you, alpha.” You flash him a dopey smile, completely brain-dead after the best sex of your life. “Only for you.”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! Alpha cheol has me in an entire brain rot- I'll never be the same after him - Mingyu now has a part in this series too, read more about the Blood Moon pack here

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🔮 preview. Seungcheol releases your hip, and he reaches down to grab your torso, wrapping one hand around your breast as he hauls you to your knees, your back now pressed firmly to his chest. “Look around,” he says in your ear, and you force your lids open to gaze out at the dark treeline. You notice multiple eyes staring back at you, lit by the reflection of the moon. You can’t see which members of the pack are watching, can’t make out any faces, but your pussy throbs knowing they’re all focused on you. Seungcheol’s free hand slips down to rub at your clit, and you whimper, wiggling in his grasp. He holds you tighter against his strong torso, licking your throat. “I can’t believe how much this turns you on. Filthy little princess.”

cw/ tw. Exhibitionism, fucking outside in a field, voyeurism, his pack watching you get fucked, blow job, deep throating, hand job, unprotected sex, dirty talk, overstim, multiple positions/orgasms, praise, semi public nudity, possessive cheol, size kink, big dick cheol, breast worship, sex marks, choking/neck grabbing, rough sex, primal doggy style, hair pulling, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess. (his) alpha.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.9k I teaser wc. 300

🌙 staring. Seungcheol x afab!reader

bonus

Seungcheol wakes up as the sunlight begins to creep through the blinds and illuminate your room. He lets out a groan, instinctively reaching out to grab you, pulling you tight to his body.

“Morning, alpha,” you whisper, fingers threading through his hair and massaging his scalp.

He’d woken up with a stiffie, and the feeling of your hands has him releasing a moan of pleasure, his cock throbbing in the confines of his breifs.

He takes a deep breath, wanting to be engulfed by you, by your scent-

And that’s when he notices a sweeter note to your usual smell.

His eyes open, and he blinks at you, the fogginess of sleep slowly dissipating as he gets his bearings.

“What?” you question, having picked up on the shift in his energy. “Is something wrong?”

“You just-” he swallows thickly, “you smell so good.”

“Really?”

“More than normal,” he confirms, sitting up suddenly to look at you. His eyes take in your body, and he moves the covers to get a better view of your form. His fingers reach out to trace your skin, smoothing over your collarbone and down to your breasts. When he reaches your belly button, he circles it, and you let out a giggle.

Seungcheol can’t help but smile, gaze flashing to meet yours. He has his suspicions about why your scent may have changed, he’s heard stories about this, but he’s never experienced it for himself-

“I think the blood moon blessed us, princess.”

“Hmm?” Your brows furrow in confusion, and you reach down to guide his hand lower-

His fingers find your core through your panties, and he lets out a groan at how wet you already are. As he moves lower, shimmying down the bed to get between your thighs, the smell grows, confirming his suspicions.

“You’re pregnant,” he says softly. “I can smell it on you.”

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#seungcheol #choi seungcheol #svthub #seungcheol smut #choi seungcheol smut #s.coups #s.coups smut #a/b/o svt #svt #svt smut #seventeen smut #werewolf seungcheol #alpha seungcheol #a/b/o seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #s.coups x reader #a/b/o seventeen #svt s.coups #werewolf svt

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pin-k-ink · 1 month

Note

(Since you were asking for a thirst HAHDNDJDNDSN)

My man (Fukuzawa) has few smut here in tumblr, he needs justice.

And I needed to be manhandled by that fine dilf.

— 🌊🪷

crucible // fukuzawa yukichi

tw ⇢ jealous!fukuzawa, possessive!fukuzawa, so much sexual tension, fukuzawa in denial, making out, teasing, office sex, sir kink cx its fukuzawa, rough sex, manhandling ofc, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, creampie, dirty talk, spanking

wc ⇢ 5.2k

a/n: anon, you just reawakened my love for fictional characters nearly twice my age

The oppressive August heat blanketed Yokohama, the air heavy and thick, clinging to your skin like a damp cloth. In the offices of the Armed Detective Agency, the ancient air conditioner wheezed and rattled, providing little relief from the sweltering temperatures. Beads of sweat gathered at your brow and trickled down the back of your neck as you sat at your desk, trying to focus on the stack of case files in front of you.

But your mind kept drifting, your thoughts inevitably drawn to the Agency's distinguished leader, Yukichi Fukuzawa. From the moment you'd started working here, you'd been captivated by him - his sophisticated air, his commanding presence, the way his steely gaze seemed to pierce right through you. It was more than just physical attraction, though that was certainly part of it. There was something about him, an aura of power and control, that drew you like a moth to a flame.

You knew it was risky, knew that getting involved with your boss was a recipe for disaster. But you couldn't help yourself. Every interaction with him left you wanting more, your skin buzzing with a kind of electric anticipation.

It started small, innocently enough. A smile that lingered just a beat too long, a brush of fingers as you handed him a file. But as the months went by, you grew bolder, more overt in your flirtations.

Each morning, you greeted Fukuzawa with a smile that bordered on coy, your voice low and honeyed. "Good morning, sir," you'd purr, leaning in just a little too close as you handed him his daily schedule. The subtle widening of his eyes, the almost imperceptible hitch in his breath, was all the encouragement you needed.

You started putting more effort into your appearance, choosing blouses that hugged your curves, skirts that fell just an inch shorter than was strictly professional. You told yourself it wasn't for him, that you just wanted to feel good about yourself. But deep down, you knew the truth. You wanted him to notice you, to feel the weight of his gaze on your skin.

And notice he did. You'd catch him watching you as you moved around the office, his eyes following the sway of your hips, lingering on the exposed slice of skin at your throat. His face would remain impassive, but you could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers would tighten around his pen.

It became a kind of game, a forbidden dance of push and pull. You'd lean over his desk to point out a detail in a report, letting your blouse gape open just enough to offer a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage. You'd brush past him in the hallway, your hand grazing his arm, letting the contact linger a moment longer than necessary.

Each small victory sent a thrill through you, a heady rush of power. You were getting to him, chipping away at that legendary self-control. It was only a matter of time before he snapped.

But it wasn't enough. The more you got, the more you wanted. Stolen glances and fleeting touches only fanned the flames of your desire, leaving you aching and restless. You found yourself daydreaming during the long, humid afternoons, your mind conjuring up vivid fantasies of Fukuzawa's hands on your body, his mouth hot and insistent against your skin. You'd imagine him bending you over his desk, his fingers digging into your hips as he finally fucked you, claiming you as his own.

The fantasies were so real, so visceral, that you'd often snap out of them flushed and breathless, your heart racing and your pussy throbbing with need. You'd clench your thighs together, trying to quell the ache, but it was never enough. You wanted him, needed him, with an intensity that frightened and exhilarated you in equal measure.

And so, you started pushing harder, growing bolder in your advances. Determined to shatter his iron self-control, to make him admit that he wanted you just as desperately as you wanted him.

You began openly flirting with the other men in the office, particularly Atsushi, the youngest and most naive of the bunch. You'd perch on the edge of his desk, leaning in close as you pointed out details in case files, letting your breasts brush against his arm. You'd laugh just a little too loudly at his jokes, tossing your hair over your shoulder and fixing him with a dazzling smile.

And all the while, you'd feel Fukuzawa's gaze burning into your back, his eyes tracking your every move. You'd see his jaw clench, his fist tighten at his side, and a dark thrill would course through you. He was jealous, you could tell. The knowledge was intoxicating.

Late one sweltering evening, as you were leaving the office, you suddenly felt Fukuzawa's hand close around your wrist. Before you could respond, he was guiding you into his office and shutting the door behind you. Your heart raced at his proximity, the air practically crackling between you.

"Your behavior has been quite inappropriate," he said in a low voice, his eyes boring into yours. "If you continue this way, there will be consequences."

His gaze drifted to your lips and for a wild, breathless moment, you were sure he was going to kiss you. But then he released you and took a measured step back, leaving you dizzy and aching for more.

In the days that followed, the memory of that charged moment in Fukuzawa's office lingered, a constant distraction. Your skin prickled with awareness whenever he was near, your body attuned to his presence like a tuning fork. You tried to focus on your work, but your mind kept conjuring up the phantom sensation of his fingers wrapped around your wrist, the heat of his gaze on your mouth.

You dialed back on your flirtations with the other men, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop teasing Fukuzawa. If anything, you became bolder, more overt in your intentions. You started staying late at the office, finding excuses to be alone with him. In the evenings, when the rest of the staff had gone home, you'd slip into his office with flimsy pretexts, perching on the edge of his desk and leaning in close as you spoke.

During one such encounter, emboldened by the late hour and the intimacy of the dimly lit room, you placed your hand over his as you pointed out a detail in a case file. Fukuzawa stilled, his eyes flickering to yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. Slowly, deliberately, he turned his hand over beneath yours, his palm hot against your own.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he said quietly, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. His fingers curled around yours, just for a moment, before he drew away.

You knew he was right, knew that you were both wading into treacherous waters. But you were too far gone to turn back now, too intoxicated by the simmering tension that coiled between you.

As the summer heat rose, so did the stakes of your forbidden dance. Stolen glances turned into fleeting caresses, plausible deniability becoming paper-thin. The air grew heavy with unspoken desire, with the tantalizing promise of what could be.

And then, one storm-dark night, the levee finally broke.

You were working late again, poring over witness statements, when the power suddenly cut out. The office was plunged into darkness, the only illumination coming from the occasional flash of lightning outside the rain-lashed windows. You heard Fukuzawa's office door open, heard his measured footsteps approaching.

"The whole block is out," he said, his tall silhouette appearing in your doorway. "We might as well call it a night."

You nodded, your tongue suddenly feeling too thick for your mouth. A strange anticipation crackled through you as you gathered your things by feel, every nerve ending alight. You startled when you felt Fukuzawa's hand on the small of your back, guiding you out into the pitch-black hallway.

In the darkness, every sensation was magnified. The sound of your breathing, the warm press of his palm against your spine, the electric awareness of his body mere inches from yours. Your heart was beating so loudly, you were certain he must hear it.

And then, between one step and the next, Fukuzawa halted. His hand slid slowly up your back, his fingers curling around your nape. You turned to face him, dizzy with want, scarcely daring to breathe.

For a long, suspended moment, you hovered there in the charged darkness. The air felt thick, weighted with expectation. You could just make out the gleam of Fukuzawa's eyes, could feel the tension emanating from him in waves.

"Tell me to stop," he said, his voice rough as gravel, "and I will."

But you didn't want him to stop. You wanted him to keep going, to finally unleash the pent-up hunger that had been consuming you for months. Throwing caution to the wind, you closed the last breath of distance between you and captured his lips with your own...

Heart pounding, you melted into Fukuzawa's embrace, your lips moving feverishly against his. His mouth was hot and insistent, his strong hands gripping your hips as he backed you up against the wall. You gasped as your back hit the cool surface, the contrast with your overheated skin sending sparks rushing through you.

Fukuzawa took advantage of your parted lips, deepening the kiss with a low groan that reverberated through your body. You clung to his broad shoulders, dizzy with sensation, your head spinning with the headiness of finally, finally having him exactly where you'd wanted him for so long.

His hands roamed your curves possessively, setting you alight even through the barrier of your clothing. His hands slid up your thighs, under your skirt, his fingers digging into your flesh. Dimly, you registered the rasp of his stubble against your skin, the throaty sounds of desire he made as he kissed you senseless. It was better than anything you had imagined, the reality of him overwhelming your every sense.

Lost in a haze of lust, it took you a moment to realize that Fukuzawa had suddenly stilled. His lips broke away from yours and he drew back slightly, his breath coming harsh and fast. Confusion cut through the fog of your arousal as he grasped your shoulders and gently but firmly set you away from him.

"We can't do this," he said, his voice strained. Even in the darkness, you could see the conflict etched on his face. "It's not right."

"What?" you managed, your kiss-bruised lips still tingling, your body thrumming with need. "But I thought-"

"This is a mistake," Fukuzawa cut you off, running a hand distractedly through his hair. "I'm your superior. I have a responsibility to maintain professional boundaries. No matter how much I..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter. This ends now, before it goes any further."

You felt like he'd doused you in ice water, shock and hurt warring within you. You opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out. Your throat felt tight, your eyes stinging with the sudden threat of tears.

Fukuzawa exhaled heavily, his expression pained. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I shouldn't have let it get this far. It won't happen again."

And with that, he turned and strode away, leaving you alone in the dark hallway, your lips still swollen from his kisses, your heart in shreds at your feet. You hugged your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling chilled despite the muggy heat.

The storm raged on outside, rain lashing against the windows, wind rattling the panes. But it was nothing compared to the tempest inside you - a maelstrom of frustration, rejection, and an ache so sharp it stole your breath.

How were you supposed to face him after this, knowing how good it could be between you, only to have it snatched away? How could you just forget the searing press of his mouth, the urgency of his touch?

Somehow, you'd have to find a way to lock down your treacherous heart, to bury your desire so deep that even you couldn't feel it anymore. The alternative - pining for a man you couldn't have, burning for his forbidden touch - was unthinkable.

But as you finally turned to leave, your legs unsteady beneath you, you couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't over. That the undeniable pull between you and Fukuzawa was too powerful to be extinguished by duty or propriety.

One way or another, you knew you'd end up back in his arms. It was only a matter of time.

In the days following your heated encounter with Fukuzawa in the darkened office, you couldn't stop thinking about the electrifying feel of his lips on yours, the urgent press of his body against your own. The memory seared through you at the most inopportune moments, leaving you aching and distracted.

Though a part of you knew you should heed Fukuzawa's words and maintain a professional distance, you found yourself incapable of letting go. If anything, his rejection only fanned the flames of your desire, your need to prove yourself irresistible. You became utterly determined to shatter his iron self-control.

You began putting extra effort into your appearance each morning, choosing outfits that clung to your curves, leaving tantalizing slices of skin bare. You made sure to bend over just so when placing documents on his desk, relishing the way his eyes would follow the lines of your body before he caught himself.

In meetings, you started openly staring at him, your gaze heated and unwavering. You'd trace your lower lip with the tip of your pen, gratified to see his eyes dart to your mouth, his fingers tightening imperceptibly on his pen. Under the guise of friendly touches, you'd graze your fingers along his arm or shoulder, feeling the way he'd tense at the contact.

But you didn't limit your newfound boldness to Fukuzawa. You dialed your flirtations up with all the men in the office. You'd perch on the edge of their desks, crossing your legs so your skirt rode up just a little too high. You'd casually touch their hands or face while laughing at their jokes, tossing your hair over your shoulder coquettishly.

All the while, you could feel the weight of Fukuzawa's stare boring into you, his jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with a potent mix of disapproval and barely suppressed jealousy. You reveled in his attention, positive reinforcement for your provocative behavior.

Late one night, as you were once again working overtime, you decided to up the ante. Slipping out of your heels, you padded silently to Fukuzawa's office, easing the door open without knocking. He glanced up sharply from his paperwork, his eyes widening when he saw you leaning against the door frame.

You smiled, slow and feline, stalking towards Fukuzawa's desk with deliberate sways of your hips. Each step seemed to echo in the charged silence of the dimly lit office. The air felt thick, heavy with the weight of unspoken desire and anticipation. You could feel Fukuzawa's gaze on you, tracking your every movement with an intensity that made your skin prickle with heat.

As you reached his desk, you placed your palms flat on the polished wood, leaning forward slightly. The action caused your blouse to gape open just a little, offering a tantalizing glimpse of your cleavage. You heard Fukuzawa's sharp intake of breath, saw his eyes flicker down for the briefest of moments before he wrenched them back up to your face.

"What are you doing here so late?" he asked, his voice carefully controlled.

"I thought you could use some company," you purred, your voice low and sultry. "And I had a few...questions about the case."

Fukuzawa's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. His hands, resting on the desk, curled into fists as if he was physically restraining himself from reaching for you. "It's late," he said, his tone carefully measured, but you could hear the undercurrent of strain beneath the words. "Any questions can wait until morning."

Undeterred by his dismissal, you circled around the desk, trailing your fingertips along the smooth surface. Fukuzawa watched you warily, his body tense, coiled like a spring ready to snap. When you reached his side, you perched yourself on the edge of the desk, crossing your legs slowly, deliberately. The hem of your skirt rode up, revealing a tantalizing expanse of thigh, the lacy edge of your stockings just peeking out.

Fukuzawa's gaze followed the movement, his eyes darkening with barely suppressed hunger. His hands clenched on the armrests of his chair, the leather creaking under the force of his grip. You could practically feel the heat radiating off him, the air between your bodies crackling with electricity.

Emboldened by his reaction, you leaned in closer, placing your hand on his thigh. His muscles tensed beneath your touch, his breath hitching almost imperceptibly. "But I want your input now, boss," you breathed, your lips just inches from his ear. "I'm sure we can find a way to...stimulate some insights."

For a long, suspended moment, neither of you moved. The only sound was the ragged tempo of your breathing, the thundering of your heartbeat in your ears. Fukuzawa seemed frozen, torn between the compulsion to maintain his professionalism and the undeniable pull of his desire. You could see the conflicting emotions warring in his eyes, the desperate struggle for control.

Then, in a sudden flurry of movement, Fukuzawa surged to his feet. His chair clattered backwards, forgotten, as he gripped you by the upper arms, hauling you up with him. Before you could even gasp, he had spun you around, pressing you up against the wall with the solid heat of his body.

Your breath left you in a rush as your back hit the hard surface, your chest heaving against his. Fukuzawa's hands slid down to your wrists, pinning them beside your head as he loomed over you, his face inches from yours. His eyes were wild, almost black in the low light, boring into you with an intensity that made you tremble.

"You just can't leave well enough alone, can you?" he rasped, his voice rough and gravelly with barely leashed hunger. "You're determined to drive me to madness."

Your lips parted, a retort on the tip of your tongue, but it dissolved into a soft moan as Fukuzawa ducked his head, his mouth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. A shudder rippled through you at the contact, heat pooling low in your belly. You arched into him instinctively, craving more, desperate for the feel of his hands, his lips on your body.

"I only want to drive you to honesty," you managed to gasp out, your fingers threading through his silver hair, holding him to you. "Admit it - you want me as badly as I want you."

Fukuzawa groaned against your throat, the sound vibrating through you like a tuning fork. His grip on your wrists tightened reflexively as he fought for control, his breath coming in harsh pants against your skin. "We shouldn't," he ground out, even as his hips pressed more insistently into yours, betraying the depth of his need. "It's wrong. But..."

You writhed against him, desperate for more friction, more contact. "But what?" you prompted breathlessly, already knowing the answer but needing to hear him say it.

Fukuzawa raised his head, his eyes locking with yours. In their depths, you saw the last vestiges of his resistance crumble, the iron bands of his control shattering like spun glass. When he spoke, his voice was low and rough, weighted with promise and dark, delicious threat.

"But...I can no longer stand by while you openly flaunt yourself at every available man in this office," he growled, his gaze dropping hungrily to your parted lips as if he was resisting the urge to claim them with his own. "No more games, no more teasing. You're mine, and I intend to make sure you never forget it."

You felt a delicious shiver rush through you at his tone - was this the unraveling you had been hoping to provoke? Boldly holding his smoldering stare, you replied, "Is that so? And what’re you going to do to me...Sir?"

A muscle ticked in his clenched jaw as he seemed to wrestle with his self-restraint. Then, quicker than you could react, his hand fisted in your hair, tugging your head back roughly.

"This..." he growled an instant before crushing his mouth against yours in a searing, hungry kiss.

You gasped at the ferocity of his passion, all the built-up tension he had been holding back now pouring into his ardent caresses. Your hands clutched at the front of his kimono as you met his fervor with your own desperate want.

Your fingers fumbled with the fabric as your mouth hungrily moved against his. He groaned into the searing kiss, the vibration sending sparks of need coursing through your veins. You managed to part the fabric enough to rake your nails over his toned chest, relishing in the way his muscles twitched at your touch.

Fukuzawa broke away with a ragged breath, his forehead pressed against yours as he gazed at you with molten eyes. "You've tormented me for far too long with your wanton behavior," he murmured, his voice strained with restrained desire. "Did you think I was blind to the way you paraded about, taunting me?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but any retort was swallowed by another kiss. This time he didn't hold back, pinning you firmly against the wall as one calloused hand boldly skimmed over the curve of your hip and thigh, squeezing your ass. You shuddered and arched shamelessly into his touch, silently pleading for him to continue his intoxicating exploration.

He trailed scorching open-mouth kisses along the column of your neck, his hot breath fanning over your sensitized skin. "Perhaps now you'll learn there are consequences for playing with fire," Fukuzawa rasped, his husky tone and the roll of his hips against yours making you dizzy with longing.

With your pussy throbbing and breath coming in shallow pants, you sought purchase by clutching at the broad planes of his back. All this time you had been determined to make this unshakable man crack - but now that he had, you were overwhelmed by the force of his smoldering passion. You wanted to drown in it, consequences be damned.

Fukuzawa's normally immaculate appearance was in delicious disarray - his kimono hanging open, hair tousled from your roaming hands. He pinned you with a look that made your insides liquify as his large, calloused hands skimmed over the bare skin of your thighs and lower back.

"Look at the temptress now," he rumbled, his voice husky and laced with want. "So responsive to my touch after batting those pretty lashes at every other man here."

You opened your mouth to respond, but only a breathy whimper escaped as Fukuzawa rolled his hips firmly against yours, allowing you to feel the undeniable hardness of his cock. Heat lanced through your cunt at the delicious friction.

"I should have acted on this long ago," he murmured against the sensitive skin just below your ear. "Shown you exactly where your teasing leads..."

His words had you trembling with heady anticipation. You fisted your hands in his kimono, tugging him even closer as your pulse thundered in your ears. "Then show me," you managed to rasp, throwing caution to the wind.

Fukuzawa's intense gaze searched yours for a molten moment before he captured your lips in another searing, demanding kiss. His large hands cradled you almost reverently as he walked you backwards towards the sofa, your sense of surroundings fading until there was only the roaring need between your entwined bodies.

With a resolute tug, your clothing began to peel away, his fiery caresses branding your bare skin as you finally surrendered to the lust that had been simmering for far too long. The air was thick and heavy with the weight of your desire, the office silent save for the mingled sounds of your heated breaths and moans.

The sofa bumped against the back of your legs and you tumbled onto it, gazing up at the imposing man towering over you. Even in this compromising position, Fukuzawa radiated authority, his gaze dark and intent as he drank in the sight of your naked, sprawled form.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he rasped, the slight tremor in his voice betraying his barely leashed control.

You could hardly breathe, your heart pounding as his burning gaze devoured every inch of your exposed flesh. He knelt between your legs and you could only watch, entranced, as his rough hands skimmed slowly over your trembling thighs.

"Such a tempting little vixen, teasing her superior," he continued, his voice low and gravelly. "And now she's finally within reach."

He parted your legs further, his thumbs tracing torturous circles on the tender skin of your inner thighs. "I'm going to show you exactly what happens to girls who flaunt themselves."

You shivered as his breath ghosted over your damp folds. The anticipation was torture, the aching need between your legs throbbing with each passing moment. He continued to torture you, peppering kisses all across the taut skin of your inner thighs.

Then, just when you thought you couldn't stand it anymore, Fukuzawa's tongue dragged along your slit. You arched into him with a startled moan, his large hands gripping your thighs to keep you in place. His tongue delved deeper, slipping right between your soaked folds.

"Oh God," you whimpered, fisting your hands in his silver hair as pleasure coiled within you, winding tighter and tighter.

"That's right," he rumbled against your slick pussy lips. "I want to hear every sound you make."

His words were punctuated by the firm press of his tongue against your clit, sending a bolt of electricity arcing through you. Your head fell back against the sofa, a cry of pleasure escaping as he licked and sucked at the swollen bud.

Your breath came in ragged gasps, the pleasure so intense it was almost overwhelming. You could feel yourself hurtling towards the edge, every muscle coiling tight, desperate for release.

Then, just as you were about to cum, Fukuzawa pulled away. You whined in protest, the loss of his hot mouth on your dripping pussy nearly painful.

"Not yet," he said, his voice thick and hoarse with arousal. "I'm not finished with you yet."

With a strength that sent another surge of heat to your core, he flipped you onto your stomach, his hand pushing the small of your back to arch your ass into the air. Your breath caught as you felt him kneeling behind you, his thick length pressing teasingly against your folds.

"You have no idea how many nights l've imagined doing this to you," Fukuzawa growled, the head of his cock sliding slowly up and down your soaked pussy. "How many times l've had to stop myself from bending you over my desk and fucking you senseless."

You moaned and wriggled against him, desperate for him to fill you. "Please, Yukichi," you gasped, his name slipping past your lips without thinking.

At the sound of his name, he grinned widely, one hand coming up to swiftly slap your rear. "You will address me as 'sir'."

Another, harder, smack had you whimpering, the stinging sensation reverberating through your core. "Yes, Sir," you breathed, fingers baring a white-knuckled grip on the couch cushions.

He teased your folds with his cock, his hand kneading your reddened flesh. "Good girl," he murmured, watching the mushroom head of his cock disappear between your puffy lips.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of teasing, he gripped his thick length and guided it to your slick entrance. You moaned as the tip slid into your cunt, your walls stretching deliciously around his girth.

"God, you're tight," he groaned, slowly easing himself deeper.

You gasped as he bottomed out, his hips flush against yours. The feeling of being so full, so stretched, was exquisite. You pushed back against him, wanting more.

With a deep groan, Fukuzawa began moving inside you, his thrusts slow and deep. He built a steady rhythm, his grip on your hips tightening as he pounded into you.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours was obscene, echoing in the quiet office. Pleasure coiled tighter within you, the tension ratcheting higher and higher with each thrust.

You could hear him grunting with exertion, the soft, guttural sounds of his pleasure driving you wild. The heat, the fullness, the overwhelming sensation of being fucked by the man who had consumed your every waking thought for months was almost too much to bear.

"Sir. Yukichi…fuck!" You gasped, your words dissolving into incoherence as his cock rubbed against that sweet spot deep inside you.

He grunted, his thrusts growing faster, more erratic. "Say my name again," he growled, his voice strained.

"Yukichi," you moaned, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer.

At the sound of his name, he groaned, his cock throbbing within you. He pounded into you harder, his fingers digging into your hips almost painfully.

You could feel yourself hurtling towards the edge, the wave of pleasure cresting inside you.

Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, his thumb found your clit, circling and rubbing the swollen nub.

That was all it took. You came with a wail, your walls clamping down on his thick cock. Your vision whited out as waves of ecstasy crashed over you, rippling through your entire body.

As you trembled through the aftershocks, Fukuzawa continued to fuck you, his pace erratic, his breathing ragged. He groaned as his cock pulsed within you, spilling his hot release.

He paused for a moment, his weight holding you down before he slowly pulled his hips back, letting his softening cock slip out of your cunt. He hissed softly as he watched his seed slowly seep out of you, unable to resist the urge to use his fingers to push it back where it belonged.

The room was filled with the sound of your labored breathing, the air heavy with the scent of cum and sweat.

You were spent, your body languid and boneless in the aftermath of your passionate encounter. Fukuzawa gathered you tenderly into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he settled onto the sofa. His touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as he held you close.

For a long moment, you simply sat there together, catching your breath, your racing hearts gradually slowing. The silence between you was comfortable, weighted with the significance of what had just transpired.

Eventually, Fukuzawa shifted, pressing a kiss to your temple before murmuring in your ear, "Come home with me."

You pulled back slightly to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "Are you sure that's wise?" you asked, a hint of playfulness in your voice despite the seriousness of the question.

Fukuzawa's mouth quirked up at the corner, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and determination. "Probably not," he admitted, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your bare shoulder. "But I find myself throwing wisdom to the wind where you're concerned."

You couldn't help but smile at that, a rush of affection and exhilaration coursing through you. This was uncharted territory, a leap into the unknown. But the thought of not taking that leap, of letting this chance slip through your fingers, was unthinkable.

"Well then," you said, your decision made, "lead the way."

Fukuzawa's grin widened, his hand tightening on your hip. "With pleasure."

#bsd smut #bsd x reader #bsd x reader smut #bsd fukuzawa #fukuzawa yukichi #fukuzawa yukichi smut #fukuzawa yukichi x reader #fukuzawa yukichi x reader smut #fukuzawa x reader #fukuzawa smut #fukuzawa x reader smut #yukichi x reader #yukichi smut #yukichi x reader smut

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yanderenightmare · 6 months

Note

thinking about Touya and Tomura fucking a pretty little virgin and keeping her collared in their bed as their shy, slutty cumdump

Shigaraki Tomura x darling x Dabi

TW: NSFW, dubcon/noncon, power dynamic, captive darling

fem reader

They don’t seem to enjoy each other’s company that much...

Patchface and Fugly aren’t exactly names of endearment...

Tomura seems to think he’s in charge, but Dabi’s never shown any sign of respect for that – they both just do what they want. Fighting each other with childish insults – sometimes the odd shirt grab or childish push – but never actually throwing down.

You don’t understand the nature of their relationship. They behave more like brothers than anything – forced to share the same toy – you.

Tomura is the more clingy of the two. Cuddly with you – always lazing on you like you’re his personal plush. He sleeps a lot – lies with his arms around your waist and his head in your tits – drool dribbling down his chin, getting sticky on your skin. And when he doesn’t sleep, he’s sitting in his chair – three screens making his eyes beady and baggy. He’ll often keep you on his lap – his massive girth wearing you like a fleshlight as he clicks away on his controller.

Dabi is cuddly, too, but you wouldn’t call him clingy. He prefers it when you lie against his chest. He likes to stroke his fingers up and down your skin – play a little – lick you with blue flames, just enough for it to sting just a bit. He’s somehow lazier than Tomura – always in the bed with a blunt between his lips – rolling more – sucking the slim roll while you suck him. The air in the room is always thick with it.

They’re both trigger-happy – horny at the drop of a hat. Utterly shameless with it, too – stroking their hard lengths against your warm flesh even while you sleep. Sometimes you wake up with their cum smeared on your skin – other times you wake up with one of them inside you.

Dabi reeks of cigarettes and catpiss, and Tomura isn’t much different – dry sweat and boozy breaths.

You don’t think either of them has been with too many girls. Nor does it seem that either of them has had any proper education. Schooled by the internet – incel chatrooms and porn. You often have to raise your brow at their misogyny.

You find Tomura harbors more pure resentment towards you in that aspect – sometimes so cruel, forcing you to beg him for his mercy – when he’ll keep your throat in a four-fingered lock – the fifth ghosting the skin until he’s properly satisfied with the number of tears running down your cheeks. He calls you a pretty girl, but more so as an insult – a pretty bitch only worth taking his cum.

Dabi seems to have his rage focused elsewhere – on some distant goal. He’ll brood over it in silence – often long into the night. You’ll wake up only to see he has yet to fall asleep – but you don’t dare ask him about it. He can be just as ill-tempered as Tomura if you don’t watch yourself.

They both bite harder than they bark.

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trashmouth-richie · 3 months

Text

the raven told me of you

eddie x female reader

crafted from this prompt list by: @bettyfrommars @somnambulic-thing @allthingsjoeq

summary: eddie is released after six months of being behind bars with a false identity, he was never lonely because you were there with him, until you weren’t. now, coming home to a new life with his old name granted back to him. he navigates flashbacks, and trying to settle back in with wayne in private protective seclusion, alone— or is he?

8.1k

tw: 18+ angst. fluff of a new relationship, light smut— s1, s4 canon events with reader inserted into the timeline, mentions of insanity, death, witness protection, government cover-ups etc. this could be a continuation or stand alone fic of your touch but is not necessary to read.

releasing: thursday 3/7

Owens’ worked his charms. The government covered up the mass hysteria and pinned the murders of Chrissy, Patrick and Fred on an accidental chemical reaction from arsenic, radiation and terpenoids. The results left their bones liquified from the toxic lick of acid and torqued before solidifying once again.

The Hawkin’s Post called it ‘a combination of sickly tainted water from the school cafeteria.’

Parents were urged to have their children tested at the local clinic for extra precautions, and thankfully no one else had been affected.

On Thursday the Eighteenth of September, at approximately 1300 hours… an hour into quiet personal time, Mr. Edward Munson, was once again, a free man.

At first he thought it was possibly a mistake, a horrifying joke fed by his many delusions. But when they called him into the warden’s office, he sat across an oak desk from a tall man with a skin bald head, shining like a lightbulb.

He used Eddie’s full name—not the persona he was given— and gave him ten minutes to collect his belongings. It was then he came to realize that maybe he wasn’t crazy after all.

Six long months in the clink with his brain spinning hallucinations beyond his control he wasn’t sure if he’d come out of it without a government issued lobotomy— and in the blink of an eye, it came to an abrupt end.

Prison was cold, unwelcoming in shades of gray coating the ceilings, walls, floors, any service imaginable. As if there was one color sanctioned to the American Prison system and gray was the less costly option.

Concrete was probably more pliable than his bed was. The food was impeccable— if you were a raven on a mealworm diet. It was just shy of hell, and it made the inhabitants calloused to a helping hand or squirreling away from making friends.

Seven months prior, Eddie was in his prime. For the first time in his life he was happy with where he was at, school was almost over and he had a true chance of walking the stage of graduation.

And you, he had you.

Beautiful, charismatic, sweet you.

It was almost like he conjured you up himself with a hard roll against a plyboard table of a twenty sided dice. Mesmerizing eyes that seemed to shimmer in any light, a smile that could soften Medusa’s rocky stare. You were perfect.

The first time his eyes laid on you was across the cafeteria. Everyone moved with the mundane routine, but you were shining like a spotlight had been placed on you overhead.

Your soft skin beckoned him like a moth to a flame. Smooth as silk, and he started to wonder what would your flesh feel like in his hands…would you cower away from their roughness?

His mind raced, and his heart pumped firmly whenever you walked past him, you smelled like ripe fruit, warming by the sun, and Eddie began to understand why Eve was tempted so easily.

And so began the daily task of seeking you out. He was able to spot you like Waldo amongst the boring gray faces of every other girl.

You shone like a gem, a sapphire filled with the darkest of depths, and like an enthusiast to your craft, he wanted to know the breadth of your soul.

His gem.

It was by total chance that he stumbled upon you after months of stray glances. He was walking backwards, yelling to Gareth about being on time for Hellfire that night, when he bumped into something that yelped in surprise.

It was you.

Sprawled and landing hard on your butt. Papers scattered from the collision of your face mashing into a denim patchwork vest.

He stumbled over your feet, falling beside you in a mess of curls and cigarettes, the one between his lips still intact. Your eyes met his for the first time, and that’s all it took for him to fall head over feet, in this case Reeboks, Eddie was a goner.

Your smile spread a warmth in his chest that he had never felt before. And your laugh? Made his knees physically weak.

He still didn’t know how he managed to swing it, but he charmed you into agreeing to a ride home. Conversation came easy with you. You were sweet yet comical, a bit of a smart ass. He was grinning like an idiot.

Chatting about books, then music, he bantered back and forth, teasing on your choice of horror, astounded in your tastes— but nevermore, he was enthused, enamored.

Witty and shit giving, you had him wrapped around your finger before the van pulled in front of your place. A permanent dimple pecked into his cheek that wouldn’t subside no matter how hard he tried.

A ten digit number exchanged on lined paper was the start of the end. A corny fist pump and a pep talk on his jaunt back to the trailer park.

Eddie was living on cloud nine.

He called you that night, foregoing any dumb advice he had seen in movies or heard at school at waiting a certain amount of days or hours, he went on pure instinct alone, and almost threw up all over himself after punching the last number.

You answered with your name after saying a proper greeting and he stumbled over his own tongue before choking out that it was him.

“Sorry who?” you had teased, Eddie’s heart fell into his stomach with relief when you giggled on the other end, “are you calling to sell me some boy scout popcorn, because cheddar is my favorite… but for you I might just buy a tin of caramel.”

A heart laugh erupted from his trailer, loud and barking. “Boy Scouts weren’t really my thing, princess.”

“Ah,” you reasoned, “knots too hard?”

He laughed again, that damn dimple achingly prominent as he smiled through the receiver, and you swore you could hear his cheeks squeak, “something like that.”

An hour had passed and Eddie found himself in the snares of coiled phone cords as he wore a pattern from his bedroom to the kitchen, fiddling with things left on the counter. Even going so far as to start a load of laundry and empty the sink.

You too were in the trenches, living solely on the scraps of information of Eddie’s life that he tossed to you like a pigeon in a park.

He was smart, filled with colossal amounts of knowledge on anything from cars, to reading sheet music. He had an ear for rhythm, cocky enough to have you hum a tune so he could pick up on it, and add to it. Eddie was a closeted genius under the untamed curls.

“Shit— I’m talking too much, huh? " he asked after a long winded speech about a campaign he was planning for the freshman in Hellfire. “I get carried away sometimes,” he admitted with a chuckle, a ripple of embarrassment heating over his body in a wave.

“Not at all,” you eagerly replied, “tell me more about Kas!”

“Well princess, I could show you, if you wanted?” He prayed you’d say yes, to whom or what he was praying to— hewasn’t sure, just crossed fingers and pinched his eyes shut in hopes that you wouldn’t think he was some loser yanking his dick to figurines and elf lore.

But you didn’t, you had said yes faster than he finished asking. And from there— it was history.

He went to bed with a spinning head and a heart wrapped in lace, sugar coated with your sweet voice in his ear, the same lopsided grin he had worn since tripping over you at school.

—

Stepping out into the first breath of freedom, the sun felt heavy on his skin. It itched his arm hairs, the heat touching his neck for the first time in years since he grew out his hair. The brightness stung his eyes.

He had become accustomed to the hollowing sag of fluorescent lights paling his skin to almost translucency, a true dracula in the pits of a four walled hell.

A croaked caw is loud overhead, singular— followed by a fluttering of wings, and the bend of a tree limb.

The clothes he wore didn’t feel like him, the ripped cotton Hellfire shirt wasn’t clean coming in and wasn’t clean coming out, Shredded where the demobats feasted on him like a hotdog at a ball field.

His jeans stunk of decay and murky water from the gate. Caked with mud, dried several times in the days of being on the run, the jeans chafed his skin raw, gnawing on his leg hairs until they popped free, giving up the fight.

A manila envelope held his rings, clashing together in a melodic tone. He slotted them one by one on the correct fingers, yet they felt loose, heavy and familiar all at once.

He was ready to pitch the envelope into a trash bin when he felt something else in the bottom, having to rip it apart to get to whatever was inside. When the ground was littered next to his waterlogged Reeboks, and his palm held the small silver item, his eyes brimmed with tears.

—3

The nightly phone calls soon turned to walks around the trailer park, Eddie listening intently as you strolled around the driveway, kicking up little clouds of dirt or catching the occasional rock with the toe of your sneaker.

He matched your steps, learning about your passions after graduation, how you favored sweets over salty treats, and the embarrassing truth of how after your friend Barb went missing, you didn’t have any friends at school.

“Well, now you have me,” he chirped earnestly, dark eyes squinting in the setting sun as he knocked his elbow with yours, a smirk on his lips, “I’ll take care of ya.”

It was as simple as that, and the easiness of it made your nose tingle with a burn as you fought back tears at his kindness.

Weeks of walking with you after school round and round Forest Hills— the scenery started to change.

The emerald grass faded into sharp tawny weeds. Foliage turned the color of autumn and the air began to crisp and chill.

It was then, on a windy Tuesday afternoon, that Eddie invited you into his home, he made sure to kick dirty laundry under his bed, hide the Playboys in the closet behind an old pair of shoes and empty the heaping ashtrays the night beforehand.

A jewel in a shit shack— you equally looked out of place and fit in with the cluttered belongings of his uncles at the same time.

“My castle.” he announced, bending low and holding the door open like a gentleman.

He showed you around the small square footage, taking less than fifteen seconds to point everything out.

“And that?”

“That’s.. my room.”

It was silly then, how nervous he was to let you into his space, even though during your walks you acquired everything there was to know about him.

—

Snow was on the ground when your after school routine of going to Eddie’s was as second nature to you as breathing.

You were sitting on his unmade bed atop the rumpled comforter and soft sheets, socked toes dangling from the side of the mattress. A textbook balanced in your lap, pencil between your teeth. Your eyebrows pinched in a studied strain as you tried to solve a calculus formula.

His voice had startled you, not sure when he had gotten up or how long he was standing at his desk, looking almost sick.

“Got something.. for you.. something dumb that I saw.”

He tried his damndest to be cavalier. But Eddie was everything but.

Ten dollars in quarters, more hours than he had spent in a pizza joint ever, and a hoard of tiny plastic containers from a machine holding costume jewelry, he had finally gotten what caught his eye.

A silver ring adorning a bat with an indigo colored stone in the center. It didn’t come close to the actual beauty you possessed but the blue stone reminded him of the way you moved through the crowd that day, like a rare gem.

Tired eyes focused on him, a nervous little twitch in his body didn’t go unnoticed as he fumbled with something behind his back, a wanton smile smirked on his lips.

You smile, adjusting the book from your lap and rubbing the pressure from your eyes, “a gift? Ed, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Didn’t have too,” he charmed, moving closer into your space, his jeans tickling the tips of your toes, “but… I wanted to.”

“Should I close my eyes?”

He chuckled, “sure sweetheart, hold out your hand,”

Your eyes shut tight, eyelashes squishing against your cheeks as you giggled, “why am I nervous?”

He stared at the rubber eraser shavings that clung to your bottom lip. The graphite on your fingers, a small hole in your jeans atop your knee, showing a smooth expanse of skin that he itched to touch. You had captivated him since the day you crossed his lazy stare in the lunchroom, and he thought of very little else.

He could still hear your squeals when you opened your eyes and saw the delicate ring in your palm. Still feel the way his heart raced when you jumped up and hugged his middle, squeezing him tight against you, the smell of your hair filling his nose with notes of strawberry, or was it peach?

He didn't realize he had the ring fisted in a vice grip until he felt blood in his palm, salty tears collecting in the thickness of his mustache, his lip quivering.

They’re wiped away in haste at the sound of a police cruiser. The familiar scent of thick gasoline exhaust and a camel cigarette follow with the squeak of his driver's door and release of weight on the suspension.

A towering frame crowds the sun from Eddie’s brow. A thick mustache sits square on an egg shaped skull, sunken cheeks replace a once plump face. But the drawl and cigarette smoke are welcoming just the same.

“Hey kid.”

—

Eddie was nervous.

The time you two had been spending together was making him feel giddy. You hadn’t kissed or so much as held hands yet but the air between you both had become filled with dense clouds of lust induced tension— it was hard for him to see straight.

He didn’t know if you felt the same, or if you only saw him as a friend, but tonight was the night the boundaries would cross, and he stood armed like a Paladin, ready to conquer his toughest quest yet, you.

Ice had built up on the broken concrete steps to Eddie’s trailer and your slick bottomed converse hit the glassy surface just right for you to slip backwards, falling into strong leather coated arms.

“We gotta stop falling into each other princess,” he chuckled, holding you tight with hands wrapped around your waist, “gettin’ too old for this nonsense.”

His scent invades you, encompassing you with hints of camels, a stick of big red gum, and starch powdered deodorant.

Your laugh bubbles out of your throat like a giggly champagne, “damn, you got me, totally do this on purpose, insurance claims. All the rage nowadays.”

He buffers for a bit as you tip forward on your feet and spin to face him, one step higher than he stands. “Only kidding,” you tease, grabbing his chin with icy fingers.

His doe eyes stare into yours, lost in the way you made his heart skip and his bones feel like jello, blood ablaze. He’s searching, searching your face for a giveaway— a sign.

And it happens like clockwork.

Your hands rest on either of his cheeks, thumb sweeping softly over the creamy silk of his skin, an audible sigh slides from his throat, followed by a giggle slipping from yours before your voice narrows to a whisper, “lighten up Munson.”

The salmon tone of his lips have gone more cherry colored in the cold, a little chapped from the frigid temps. Not the usually pinkish orangey hue they drew in warm light when he flustered over History notes and Chemistry study cards.

The apples of his cheeks were rosy like a cherub on a Valentine’s Day card, glittered with fancy text swirling of “Be Mine?”

Coal eyes shone with the bright overhead light from the trailer park. A deer caught in headlights.

Eddie was handsome in a way nobody in Hawkins was. A mane of curled brown locks, eyes to match. He was affectionate, easygoing, and you loved him the minute he crashed into you a few months ago.

Hands still on your waist he pulled you towards him, “Can’t,” he breathes, almost silently, a huff of air between you now, “not when I’m around you, never around you.”

Your fingers tangle together around his shoulders, braided in the hair at the nape of his neck, he shudders at the temperature change on his skin.

A quirk in your brow you tilt your head and wet your lips, “why’s that?”

He joins you on the crowded step, taller than you, peering into your face, heavy hands still on the waist, “for months, haven’t been able to think straight when you’re here,” his hands rub on your lower back making lazy circles under your coat with his blunt nails.

“Hmm..” you tease, twirling a curled lock of of the hair framing his face between your fingers, sultry eyes looking up at him in thick eyelashed innocence, “wonder why that is?”

The opening he was looking for, boundary lines down in overgrown grass as if he rolled a crit hit to whatever creature stood in his path was laid out for him.

His forehead comes to rest on yours, surprisingly warm in the cold, his nose like frost as it slid beside your own, bumping and sharing one breath.

“ ‘cause I’m crazy ‘bout you,” he finally admits, heart loosening, unrestricting, “and I can’t stop thinking what your lips would feel like with mine.”

He feels your smile on his mouth, the bated breath you’re holding teasing his tongue, “find out,” is all you can get mutter before his lips press gently to yours.

—

Hawkins was a few hours drive, longer yet after stopping at the nearest diner for a burger and fries. After staring at a menu for more than Hopper’s liking he ordered for himself and Eddie.

The coffee came in white ceramic mugs, the waitress setting them down in the designated spots that were already stained with rings of taupe, years of wear.

“Wayne’s all set up in a new trailer, living high off the hog or whatever he said during our weekly check-ins.”

Eddie ate in silence, chewing slowly, eating but not really tasting. What was freedom if you weren’t a part of it?

He’d be the first to admit that he talked to you when he was stressed. When he thought he couldn’t shut his eyes without seeing the horrific beings that crawled upside down from our world, he turned to your voice, feeling you wrap around him gave him a sense of hope.

“It’s not in Forest Hills, somewhere a little more private, government owned land.”

Eddie sipped at the bitter coffee, taking the burn in a big swig, letting it hurt. Nodding along as he watched his reflection in the dark cup.

—

Kissing you was like being able to breathe underwater, like the 1986 New Year’s fireworks over Lover’s Lake.

He kissed you at your door before school when he showed up every morning to drive you. He stole more kisses in his van, cursing the 8:15 bell, his hands on your waist pulling you further into him.

Standing by your locker, he kissed your cheeks as you dug for textbooks. He pressed his lips to your ear in the lunch line, making you squirm.

He kissed your shoulder when he sat behind you teaching you to play his guitar. Pressing the delicate pads of your fingers into the strings to play each chord with ease.

He’d groan into your neck, while pressing you into the couch, nipping your skin until his lips were raw.

“Where have you been my whole life?”

Your fingers are entwined in his hair, pulling his weight further into you, your legs wrap around his waist, “led astray, lost, so lost.”

He leans up, dark curtains of hair dangling into your face from your position on the saggy couch in the Munson living room.

He smiles a toothy grin, dimples breaching, “good thing I found you then, baby,” he sweeps a rogue eyelash from your cheek, “can’t escape me now.”

“wouldn’t want to even if I were dead.”

—

“Nope, hasn’t said a word, how do you know he can even talk?”

Owen’s sighs on the other end of the receiver, “he’s tough, but he’s been through a lot, needs time to recover, find out who he is again.”

Hopper takes a long drag of a cigarette, “yeah, don’t know about that one doc, he’s mute.”

Short trimmed nails scratch at a tuft of curly white hair, stationed somewhere in Nevada, “Alright, just get him home, I’ll call the uncle and let him know.”

—

Hugs lingered. Kisses deepened. Bodies pressed to one another in a staticky velcro of magnets, unable to peel apart.

Things were hot and heavy between you and Eddie. Smoky, tingly, a fog that had your blood pulsing places you didn’t know was even possible. You didn’t want to be apart, aching to explore every inch of him.

And he felt the same.

Together you set the plans into place.

He purchased the condoms, made sure his favorite mix of the slowest metal music he could find was ready to go. He washed his bed sheets and lit a dust covered candle.

You had done your own routine, showering and thoroughly scrubbing every surface of your skin, lathering a thick lotion on your body, and planting perfume in the direct places Cosmo described as, ‘irresistible’.

It wasn’t his first time. But it was yours.

Running his fingers through his bangs once more he took a last meticulous look around his room, crossing the trailer to answer the front door, where you had knocked quietly.

You were gorgeous, standing in a pair of light wash jeans and a buttoned red sherpa coat. A bag over your shoulder.

“There’s my girl,” he cooed, holding his arms wide and embracing you in his signature bone crushing hug. His lips found yours in a fevered second and he walked you backwards inside, flipping the deadbolt as he kicked the door behind him.

The duffle bag travels from your shoulder to his arm and he breaks away from your tempting lips. Holding your shoulder he pulls you into him, looking at you as he leads you to his room.

“Got everything you need? Toothbrush?”

You smile a little nervously, “check.”

“Okay, pajamas?” he inquires, “could wear mine if you wanted, you’d look pretty damn cute in my Garfield pants.”

“Packed and folded last night,” you say, tickling

his sides, “you were on the phone with me when I did it.”

He stops before crossing the threshold to his room, hands gently pressed to your cheeks, looking into your eyes in a serious manner.

“Are you sure? Like really sure?” his brows knit into concern, “I want you to be comfortable with this.. with me.”

You tug his shirt with a pinched grip, at his waist, staring back into his eyes, the truth on your tongue.

“I want you.”

—

Gravel spits up from the rubber tires as Hopper’s cruiser pulls off onto the secluded road. Eddie’s head hits the window hard with a thud, waking him from a dream.

“Home sweet home, kid.” Hop grunts, cranking the vehicle to a stop after traveling down a long twisting driveway thick with bordering trees and miles of woods on either side. A safe haven for a man deemed dead.

He could make out the taillights of his van, nestled in the tall grass beneath a willow tree, obscured from view. Wayne’s trusty Ford under the carport.

The overcast sky splayed a gray color against the new Munson home, and sitting on steps that weren’t broken, was Wayne.

The passenger door releases with a groan, and he inhales the fresh scent of dirt and summer grass. Finally, he feels like he can breathe.

Wayne’s familiar thin lipped grin is spread wide on his face, smoke lingering from a cigarette in an ashtray. His wet eyes gleam at the boy he once thought was dead, as he stands to greet his nephew.

“Hardly recognized ya with that short hair, Ed, and that beard?” he says rubbing a weathered hand through his own scruff, “givin’ me a run for my money son.”

He hadn’t seen his uncle since that friday morning in March. Unbeknownst to them both, in 15 short hours a cheerleader would die gruesomely in their living room, sprouting a world of chaos and demons, destruction, uncertainty and more carnage.

Hop had explained to Eddie that Wayne was compensated generously for his grief by the United States Government. He was told the ins and outs of what had happened and where Eddie was, and perched on land in a new house, he was told to wait.

—

Spring had sprung, the hard winter that seemed like it would never end was finally seeing its demise. March brought promises of new growth in the soil, and warmer days ahead.

It was a typical Friday, besides a morning pep rally for the laundry basket team after winning an important game the night before.

A pep rally you never attended.

Your back was pressed against the bathroom stall, skirt rucked up with the help of Eddie’s hand.

“We’re… gonna… get caught.” You rasped out between kisses.

His other hand was interlaced with yours high above your head, “probably,” he teased, tongue licking into your mouth, “it’s worth it though? Yeah?”

His hand travels further to the cotton waist of your panties, dragging them further and further down your thigh, his lips assaulting your neck, vibrating with your delicate moans.

“For you?” you question, hooking an arm around his shoulder, as your panties hit the ground, “always.”

He smiles into your lips as he pushes into your warm center, taking the breath from your lungs as you adjust to him, ass cheeks cold on the metal siding of the stall.

Your legs are wrapped into the crease where his elbow meets, his cock dragging in and out languidly, mouths hung open and tasting each other's ecstasy as your eyes drink one another up.

“Swear I’ve never, ever had someone like you, baby,” he gasped, bangs frizzing from being wet from a morning shower then covered in sweat.

Hips pistoning into you, he can feel your walls clench and tighten, your breath choked before you release, saying his name as if it’s the only word you can make out.

He cums hard. biting his lip and burying his face into your neck, “I love you, fuck I love you.”

It was the first time he had said it. He had known it for months, but today in the girls bathroom skipping a pep rally he could give a shit about, he figured it was the perfect place to say how he felt.

He’s still inside you when you say it back, spend leaking from you and onto the tiled floor. Your own eyes wet with the happiest of tears because no one has ever said that to you, not like this.

But this gorgeous man, in all his reputational flaws that didn’t mean shit, loved you. And you had never felt more emotion flooding through you all at once.

“I love you too, Eddie.”

—

Hopper didn’t stay for supper, patting his barely there belly and saying the missus was expecting him home tonight. He tipped a felt hat goodbye to Wayne and to Eddie, telling them to call if they needed anything.

He still hadn’t spoken, only nodded and waved curtly as the red tail lights danced down the tangled web of a driveway.

“Gonna make pork chops if you’re interested,” Wayne chirped, holding the door open for him as they climbed the same number of steps, “learned how to cook, can y’ believe that?”

He smiled softly, carrying his envelope of release papers and setting them on the table.

Everything from the old trailer was ruined. His guitar, all the band equipment he had stored in his room, the mattress that held more memories with you in them that he’d never get back— all gone, burned to a rancid fiery crisp when the fourth chime rang and Hawkins spread open like a festering wound.

The only thing he had of yours was the small bat ring with a sapphire stone.

Ten dollars in quarters at a shitty pizza place. He should have given you something real.

—

“.. yeah yeah and I was full of shit then,” Eddie grinned as Jeff and Gareth teased him about his graduation timeline. “This is my year, I can feel it.. ‘86 baby!”

He was always a flare for dramatics, dungeon master or not he amped it up for the freshman, acting like DnD was life or death, as if the cult of Vecna couldn’t be missed.

To be fair, he spent months on this campaign, late nights plotting and scrawling into a binder as you sat behind him, playing with his hair.

French braids then pippy styled pigtails, a cute bun on the top of his head with little hairs sweeping against his forehead and at the nape of his neck, perfect curls.

“Ten bucks says Wheeler cries when Vecna makes his return.”

“You think?”

“Definitely.”

Shoving Dustin and Mike with specific instructions to find a replacement player for Lucas, he sits down to his measly little lunch, leaning over to your space and whispering so only you can hear.

“After Hellfire tonight you wanna come over? Wayne bought a frozen pizza and I heard that Family Video finally got some good horror flicks in.”

Stealing a pretzel from his fingers you nod your head yes, “ I’ll get the movie, meet you at the trailer?”

The rest of the day dragged on. One boring class after another, students excited for the upcoming game, teachers unable to keep the roar of amped up Jocks under control, but alas the last bell finally rang. Releasing Hawkins High for Spring Break of ‘86.

Some kids went on vacation, others hunkered down with their friends. And some never made it back to school when classes resumed.

Walking down to his designated selling spot at the forgotten picnic table in the woods, he could have never imagined the trouble he’d be in just seven hours later.

—

Pork Chops seared in a pan with some butter and a chopped onion, Wayne had the news playing on the small tv in the kitchen, listening for the weather report.

The trailer was identical to the one lost to the rotting flesh of the Upside Down. Newer, and a damn sight cleaner, but the layout was exactly the same, except for an added bedroom with an attached bath on the opposite wall of the living room.

The filthy hat collection was replaced by odd cowboy decor and small wolf figurines. Eddie paced around the living room, touching the knick knacks that someone else had picked out not even questioning whether or not Wayne enjoyed this kind of stuff.

He had shown Eddie to his room, a navy blue carpet stretched across the floor, a queen sized bed against the back wall. New new new. Everything was foreign to him.

He would miss the heavy creak of a dresser drawer that didn’t shut properly, his closet door that fell off its track years before. Hell, he’d even miss the itch of the green wool blanket he kept on his bed in the winter months.

“Got your own bathroom too,” Wayne said cheerfully hovering in the doorway, hand rubbing the knob as he stared at the floor, “figured you’d wanna shower ‘fore supper, so I laid a towel out.”

Eddie turned his head nodding while he poked at the too soft blanket folded on his bed.

“It’s good to have you home, Eddie.” Wayne said, finally looking into his nephew’s eyes, “didn’t feel the same without you.”

Wayne wasn’t a coddler, he didn’t want Eddie to feel like he couldn’t be trusted, so he turned to leave, “shower’s got real good water pressure.” He takes a glance back at Eddie, and looks around the room before pulling the door shut behind him.

“Thanks,” Eddie mumbles, turning away at the last second, avoiding the piercing color of Wayne’s eyes before they could break him down.

—

Ten o’ clock on the dot your car crunched onto the dusty driveway of Forest Hills. Eddie’s van wasn’t parked out front yet, but thankfully the Munson trailer was never kept locked.

The trailer smelled of old smoke and musk from two hard working men. Even if the laundry was never caught up, and greasy wrappers from a quick bite of a burger littered the counter— Eddie’s home was comforting to you.

You didn’t have to fumble around for the light switches anymore, walking in the dark you knew where the table could connect with your hip if you weren’t careful.

Ten steps from the kitchen, down the hall was his bedroom door, five steps back led to the bathroom. He had cleared a drawer for you to keep your clothes in, socks, extra pajamas, some of his favorite pairs of your underwear lived in the top drawer on the right.

The mirror on his dresser held a collection of pictures of the two of you from the photo booth at Starcourt Mall, movie ticket stubs, and the mint condition guitar he kept sacred.

A yawn escapes your tired mouth the warmth of a shower calls to you.

Grabbing a towel from the cabinet, the water sputters under the shower head as it always did, and familiar music floods your ears from the thin walls outside.

—

His reflection is gaunt, different than the last time he looked at himself, the night he struck the mirror in disgust.

He’s too happy to rid himself of the swamp smelling clothes that itched and scraped his skin. The lick of a flame would do them justice, good riddance to the worst time of his life.

The shower is bigger, the head double the size of the one he grew used to. The spray of scalding water hits his head like magma. Burning his flesh, washing away months of isolation, stale air, and stiff clothing.

The water released muscles in his back that had grown crimped from the thin cot he curled himself on. His fingers ran through the shorter length of hair on his head, just above his eyebrows realizing it now was long enough to drip water into his eyes.

He didn’t check the labels before rubbing whatever soap or shampoo it was into his skin, but the slide of it onto his pale and gummy mauled scars felt like butter on toast.

Registering the faint scent of a stixky sweet fruit he couldn’t determine if it was strawberry or peach, but the concoction had him clutching his chest, unable to breathe.

It smelled like you.

You. His best friend.

You. His first girlfriend.

You. The only person he has ever loved— so intensely, it killed him.

You you you.

His gem. All sapphire blues with depths beyond comparison to anyone else who simply peaked on the surface.

Gone.

“Ready whenever you are!” Wayne knocked on the door, “pork chop ain’t no good cold.”

He wipes the tears from his eyes. Regulates his breathing with labored intakes. And finally admits the thing he couldn’t for the past six months.

“She’s gone.”

—

“Sorry for the mess, maid took the week off.”

“You live here alone?”

Murmured voices are muffled under the rush of water from the shower, “Eddie?..that you?”

Shuffled steps get closer and the bathroom door swings open, Eddie’s eyes are wide, wild with excitement as they roam over your form.

He licks his lips, stalking towards you in a lazy manner with dark hooded eyes, “prettiest girl in the whole world in my bathroom?” His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into him, a breathtaking move leaving you giggly as his hand caresses your cheek, “hope you’re naked under these clothes.”

He presses his lips to yours in a chaste kiss, dipping you low and swinging you back up, he tastes like Mountain Dew and lingering hints of nicotine, spread with a wicked grin.

“I missed you, handsome,” you say, pressing your lips to his again, “so how was it? Did Mike cry when Vecna came back?”

Eddie barks out a laugh, rubbing his hands together, “think I might’ve seen a single tear fall, but they defeated him— crit hit by Sinclair’s sister.”

“Really? That’s.. impressive!”

“It was… shit, I’ve never been more proud of those little assholes.” His smile fades and you know he’ll miss being DM for them next year.

“Eddie?” A small voice asks from the living room.

Your brow quirks in question and he looks at you voice whispering low, “Chrissy Cunningham wants to buy ketamine.”

“What?!” you whisper back face struck in shock, “seriously?!”

Eddie nods, eyes wide in almost disbelief himself, “wanted a half ounce at first, but then said she needed something stronger.”

Your face pulls concern, honestly astonished that someone who seemed so prim and proper would want something like that. Eddie didn’t sell k normally you’ve been with him on multiple occasions and the only thing that was consistent with your peers of Hawkins High was weed.

“Do you even have it?”

“Dunno” he shrugs, lips in a frown, “told her I did because it’s an easy thirty bucks, but I could just crush up some tic-tacs… she wouldn’t know the difference.”

“Eddie? Did you find it?” Chrissy calls out in a nervous pitch.

“I can talk to her while you find something?”

“That’d be great,” he kissed you once more, lips buzzing, “two minutes!” He practically skips to his bedroom and shoots you a wink. Leaving you in a flight of butterflies lining your stomach. Helplessly in love.

—

Inhaling the hot cooked meal that didn’t taste like warmed up roadkill, Eddie sat in silence in a clean pair of clothes that weren’t his, listening to Wayne talk about what he’d been up to since they had last seen each other.

He burned with questions, needing, wanting, aching to know but the only thing he could blurt out came choked and almost suffocating on the use of his vocal cords.

“I need to see her.”

Wayne simply slurped his iced tea, setting the glass down heavy on the oak table, ice shifting. “Figured you would… want me to drive ya?”

Eddie swallows hard and shakes his head, “I need to go alone.”

With instructions from Wayne on the less traveled roads back to town, Eddie’s van sputtered to life in a cloud of backfiring smoke. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the passenger seat, he knew what would be there, and what wouldn’t.

Nothing was the same. Not anymore.

—

The boat floor was cramped, quite literally packed like sardines in a can, you were somehow lulled to sleep by the sway of Lover’s Lake waters and the even breathing of Eddie’s chest.

Your head tucked beneath his chin, he wrapped his arms around you as tight as he could without crushing your bones.

Rick’s offered little comfort for an empty stomach outside of a moldy fruit bowl, an expired beer and a singular can of spaghetti o’s. But you were both safe for now. And that’s what mattered.

The kids, Steve Harrington— of all people— and Robin promised food and any information they could find without seeming suspicious. He was gracious for their companionship, needing something to keep him busy while trying to hide his own slip to insanity from you.

Your tears were endless, soft and steady one minute and the next you were wrecked, in a choked fit clinging to him for dear life.

Eddie’s mind played on replay of your trembling screams when Chrissy’s bones snapped like twigs and her eyes vacuumed out of her skull. Vecna, a made up character that he had been obsessing over for the past couple months for DnD was real.

Killing teenagers for what? World domination? Eddie and yourself were the ones on the run, knowing all too well how a dead cheerleader in his trailer would look to any cop with half a brain.

He’d run forever if it meant not losing you and killing Vecna for good. Everything he had ever known, books of fantasy and creatures that he drew for campaigns, it was all real, and these kids have been fighting it for years now.

The sound of tires crunching on the driveway had his ears perked like a guard dog, followed by three slamming doors. Instructions were given, and he could only imagine that whoever it was was in Rick’s house and it was only a matter of time before they noticed the boat house just like Mayfield had.

The walkie talkie Dustin left was clutched in his hand, you were both fucked, and needed help— now.

—

The Roane Hill Cemetery was eerily foggy, dew coated the hot blades of grass from the sweltered heat. Wayne drew a map on what section you were in. Apparently the number of people lost in the “earthquake” were in the upper digits now, and they were running out of land to bury the deceased.

Those not recovered were given markers slotted into the ground with accompanied by silk ribbons to symbolize hope. They were nestled up under a thick tree line, complete with a wrought iron fence.

He bubbled out a laugh when he crossed by his own empty grave. The headstone was covered in graffiti of wishes to burn in hell. Typical. His death date marked as ‘March 27 1986’. But that wasn’t true.

Lots of people passed that day when hell itself opened a crimson quaking flood. but not him. Although he wished he had.

Pushing forward, he knew had to be close now. The air was thick in the foggy whiteness— blinding him. A high pitched croak screeched from the sky, and he stumbled backward, landing on his ass with a wet thud, a spattering of grass grown wild in tender dirt.

His chest cavity sunk in, gasping for breath but coming up empty. Each threatened choke chipped away at him as his fists tore at the soft ground.

His girl. His gem. Laid to rest.

—

The Winnebago rocked on uneven suspension as Steve winded down the Indiana highway back to Hawkins. It was eerily quiet. Even Robin was silent, planning her mission in her head? You couldn’t be sure.

Tightening the bandana around Eddie’s curls you ask him if it feels okay.

“Yeah, course.”

Days of running. Hours of growling stomachs, unable to keep down food— you prayed this plan of Nancy’s would work, that Max would be able to lure Vecna with her vulnerable mind, that Eddie could distract the bats long enough to have the others attack his paralysis ridden body—it had to work— right?

Eddie sits and pulls you onto his lap, adjusting the spear made by the same eleven year old girl who defeated his campaign a few nights before. Erica, you learned, was a warrior.

“Nervous?” you asked throwing an arm around his neck and whispering into his ear.

He shrugged nonchalantly, “little worried.”

You believed in the plan, in the younger kids, in Steve Nancy and Robin who had been fighting stuff like this from a different dimension for years. They were trustworthy and intelligent.

“It’s gonna work babe,” you encouraged, stroking his cheek, “we’ll clear your name, graduate, and then leave this hell hole, together.”

He looks at you with strained eyes, wetter than usual, “you and me?”

Staring back at him you press your lips to his in a gentle kiss, “forever.”

—

He laid there until the sky turned to ink. Speaking to you in his head, knowing in his deepest of hearts that you could hear him. Telling you how he had missed you, how your beautiful smile played like a film in his brain. How he loved you. and hours have told you sooner, more, every day.

He told you how he wished he was gone too. Would you like that? It could be so easy to do.

Tracing his fingers over the formal font of your engraved name. He smirked at the silly spelling of your middle name.

It was comforting.

Eddie hadn’t felt this sense of calm since the day you hadn’t come back to him in the mirror, and he thought whatever magic spell was broken until you reached for him one last time, promising to never leave.

But you did, and he was alone.

Standing upright, he let out a sleepy yawn, “can I come by tomorrow?” he asked, “would you be okay with that?” He smiled, and bent at the knee to press his lips into the stone above your name.

“Oh,” he remembered, fishing your ring from the breast pocket of his borrowed flannel shirt, “look what I found.”

He held it to your stone, “this belongs to you, baby, I want you to have it.”

Placing the small ring on the smooth base of your tombstone, he gets back up, knees clicking like he’s years older than he actually was.

“See you tomorrow, my sweet gem.”

—

The night air shifted on his drive home, blowing a chilling breeze from the north that whipped his hair around his ears. The van struggled on the drive home with each gust that blew against the metal frame.

“Think we’re in for a storm tonight.” Wayne said when Eddie breached the front steps, straightening his arm, “ol elbow’s actin’ up.”

“Kinda cold for September, right?”

“All of a sudden it dropped about thirty degrees, somethin’s a brewin’.”

Wayne had his truck keys wrapped around a finger, “I gotta go check on Miss Pam, her husband died in the uhh.. anyway, she’s not doing well and you remember how those damn lights always went out? I’ll be back after while.”

Eddie grew a smile, “should I wait up?”

Wayne stopped in his tracks, talking around a smirk hiding a laugh, “don’t get smart with me.”

They both share a glance and laugh softly, and Eddie still has a smile even after the rumble of Wayne’s pickup gets carried away in the wind.

He locked up, pulling the vinyl shades and unhooking the curtains, pitching the trailer into darkness right as the rain pelted the window panes.

Wayne must have made his bed when he was in the cemetery. A small radio was perched on a nightstand and after slipping into starched pajama pants, from the fancy dresser, Eddie fiddled with the knob until the faint guitar sounds filled the room.

Thunder grumbled in the distance, but what he heard next was repetitive, growing louder. Shit, maybe Wayne didn’t have a house key.

“Ya know,” he says, walking to through the kitchen to the front door, “you tel me not to wait up but then you bang on the door because you don’t have keys? C’mon!”

The door swings open with a final gust of wind. Mud sloshed on his feet, Rain splattered his face. But that was not a concern.

A beautiful face, covered in Earth. Eyes he hadn’t seen outside of a mirror in months. You wore the same thing he last saw you in, same tattered wear that his Hellfire shirt had, but it somehow looked soft.

“I promised you forever.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #ziggy writes #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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bonchobrick · 1 year

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tw: slight suicidal actions (but not really the batfam are wildly clueless to the actual context to danny's bullshit hes not suicidal--in this fic--he's dead get it RIGHT brucie)

Au where Batfam are entirely convinced that the new vigilante in Gotham, danny, has time travel powers because he can vanish away from their senses completely

This becomes a problem however when

Bruce searches for him because wants to save Jason. Danny can save Jason not in the--im a time traveler and i can bring him or you back from or to the past--but in the, I’m a ghost king and have domain over the dead haha

Batfam become really concerned watching Phantom fight because “if he has time travel powers why doesn’t he avoid getting hit every time he can” and get worried phantom is purposefully letting himself get hurt

Danny in all honesty is just vibin the entire time while the batfam is going crazy at every sliver of info they get about danny because like

okay hes a time traveler thats established they got over that

This guy whos somehow been able to stop and rehabilitate rouges (ghosts) in his town is 15??

he may be the kindest most self destructive kid they've ever met like who immediately agrees to help people who were trying to capture and interogate him because he 'thinks we are better than the last billionaire who did this' what the FUCK

Oh yeah and they find out as a bonus in the end that his normal unpowered form he is a teen with black hair and blue eyes (bruce no no dont do it dont--)

---

Bruce is losing his mind

Okay so at the start of this there’s an unknown vigilante (danny) that Batman tends to bump into. Except Batman isn’t sure what he is.

Every time they run into each other Batman can tell there should just be a person beside him but before he gets a glimpse and opens his eyes to empty fresh air.

A vigilante that can vanish before their very eyes?

What do the bats think about this?

They think this vigilante can control time and is doing that to sneak out of their gaze.

Now here’s where the funny part comes in

Bruce goes on a wild hunt to search for the vigilante with a plan. To make them turn back time so that he can save his son.

The problem with this?

Danny is not a time traveler most days–scratch that he's not one at all. He can save his son Jason though, in fact he wants to, it’s just he needs to figure out a way to do this whilst not blowing his cover that he is the goddamn ghost king.

So he pretends that he does have time powers and that he just… uh… needs a minute to figure them out… yeah that!

Cue Batfam getting progressively more worried about Danny because ‘if he could turn back time—why doesn’t he avoid those hits?’

They all kinda think Danny is like purposefully hurting himself so now Danny is forced to eat breakfast with them and sleep at their manor. I mean he’s confused at why they always look so worried about something but he’ll make sure Batman’s son gets home soon! Plus the rich people temporary-living-situation without all the ‘I want to adopt you’ billionaire bullshit is pretty sweet!!

(somewhere in the ghost zone jason is tearing up laughing at the batfam as they struggle to not burst into flames trying to figure out danny-- like for christs sake they think the ghost king is an american doctor who and are trying to get him to spill where his tardis is)

#dc x dp #dp x dc #fanfiction #danny phantom #batfam #danny fenton #bruce wayne #batman #jason todd #Batfam trying to be relatable to a time traveler: so... 1990 was sooo cool right?#danny sweatdropping having never passed basic history on his own w/o cheating since elementary: yea i loved seeing real life dinosaurs haha #dick born in 1990: what #mans never passed world history #dick is so sad #everyone keeps calling him a dinosaur now and its really getting to him #tim pointing at dick: this 24 year old is a FOSSIL #dick crying: leave me ALONE im still YOUNg and BEAUTIFUL #danny: i think I caused a new episode of family fights #batfam watching danny slam down from five stories of concrete worried as hell #danny casually getting up: whats up guys! whos ready to partay!!#batfam: haha... *silently dials hotline* ...mee #its been a bit since I last posted one of these so its not my best :(#Ill be sure to edit some good ones soon so yall can read :))#ohkay gn lovelies ^^#oh my god its only 12 nevermind i lied hey guys have a good afternoon #batfamily #danny is a little shit #batfam are so confused

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kpopnstarwars · 2 months

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Warriors: Choi San x Reader

A/N: ohh boyyy after the kpop fanfic drought im back and it's with warriors au choi san

Summary: San and Reader are mages, which means they are made to serve. They are lowborn, destined to obey humans - the nobles and the highborn - with their every breaths. What if they don't want that?

tw: 18+, smut (p in v, fingering, cockwarming sort of), swearing, violence, death, blood, minimally gory at one point, war, child soldiers (14 yo), society is a shit place to be if you're a mage, tons of worldbuilding, assassins, freaking bath sex, hint at sa at one point from some dude we hate, san is kind of a brat tamer, seonghwa cameo but sad, idk if you can tell but i suck at summaries, mention of a harem, mention of slavery

wc: 4.8k

As a child, you watched from afar, waiting for things you could not grasp.

They told you that you were made to serve. They recounted age-old tales, about gods that crafted humans in their divine hands, moulding the mages afterwards to be commanded by their beloved creations. They filled your mind with legends of faithful individuals of your kind who proved their worth with obedience until you wished to be like your forebears.

Back when you were but an infant, you believed it. You knew the two powers that were bestowed upon you by the gods, varying in every mage, were gifts made solely to assist the highborns. In your naivety, you thought the rosy flame cupped in your small, childish palms would be used to warm the nobles in the icy winter, and that you would fulfil your purpose through that, through being of use to them. They had no shame as they informed you you were just a tool forged for following their orders, and you were convinced it was all true - until you met San.

Although you were the one with the ability to summon an inferno, he was always the one with a burning fire in his eyes. Like all mages, he’d been taken from his parents the moment he didn’t need his mother’s milk - he was given as a peace offering from the Hwangso warlord for his control of water: helpful for the upkeep of the crops.

This occurred in the small period of time in which Hwangso, the neighbouring province, was attempting to forge alliances with your province, Neugdae. Soon after, your warlord breached their territory, claiming it as his - you often wondered if the news filtering back from the front lines of a new settlement captured ever affected San.

You met him when he was an eight year old filled with bottled fury too old for his years, and you were a quiet, invisible seven year old. At those tender ages, neither of you had developed your second ability yet, nor had you gotten a taste of the power at your fingertips, but San still held his head high; you remember marvelling at the way he’d make a point of meeting every single noble’s gaze and holding it. He was just a scrawny, sun browned kid back then - nothing like the elegant lethality of the man that he is now.

Every day until you turned fourteen, you toiled beside him. The work was cruel, your supervisors crueller; the sun would beat down on your back as you laboured in the fields, side by side with San as barely a quarter of the way across the settlement, the nobles sheltered beneath their silky parasols, boasting their pale, porcelain skin. Back then, San never spoke of the injustice of it all out loud, but something about the look in his eyes when he saw them swanning past stirred something inside you. He made you realise that you were not the soulless, mindless puppet that you’d been told you were, but a person.

It wasn’t simply the rage inside him that drew you to him, though. It was the way he remained sweet, kind, despite it all, making sure to send licks of cool mist down your neck when your supervisors weren’t looking, nicking extra crumbs of food for you and remaining beside you, a beacon of light that anchored you to sanity even in the dark.

Even when, you at fourteen, him fifteen, were sent out into battle.

There were always skirmishes between neighbouring warlords: a constant push and pull for more land, more resources, more power. They would attack on a whim - mages were expendable, nothing more than canon fodder; behind each squadron was a noble who would hang back behind the lines, commanding, unbothered by the bloodshed because it was the blood of mere tools.

By then, both you and San had developed your second abilities. San’s was the ability to manipulate shadows, turning them into almost solid shapes that could physically hinder attacks by forming daggers or clutching hands, or could temporarily block the world out in a shroud of rolling black fog. Yours was the art of shapeshifting; you let the outline of your body flicker between forms, changing into powerful, deadly creatures whose substance was inhabited by the soul of a wavering teenager.

You’d known that you’d be forced to fight since you were young, but you never could have imagined the brutality of war.

It was there, in the midst of the battlefield, that any lingering innocence was burned from your soul. You learned that San’s water did not just bring life, but could also fill up someone’s lungs until they drowned upon dry ground, that your fire was not just a source of warmth or light, but could also combust a man’s heart within his chest, that the animals you were teaching yourself to shapeshift into could maul and break bones.

Many nights, you would fall asleep, curled against San, your face buried in his side with his arm wrapped around you, the taste of blood still in your mouth from where you’d torn your enemies’ throat out with the vicious canines of a tiger or the needle sharp fangs of a lynx. You would leave the front lines soaked with crimson, the essence of other people in your hair, smeared on your face, caked and drying under your nails.

It terrified you, how easily you could slice their flesh open with your claws. Armour was not wasted on mages, only generals, so just like you, all they wore were roughly woven tunics tied at the waist and trousers - you met no resistance when you killed your own kind, silent apologies on your lips.

Within the squadrons were also humans that had fallen from grace - criminals who still felt entitled enough by their birthright to think they could have a fourteen year old mage’s body; San protected you until you could protect yourself. In the first few weeks, when the punches he threw were too weak to deter them, he would let them beat him, giving you time to escape before returning to you, limping, lip split and nose bloody but the fire in his eyes never faltering.

On those nights, tears of frustration would leak from the corners of your eyes as you cleaned him up. He could so easily stop them if he used his abilities, but by then doing that without being instructed to do so by a highborn would lead to a flogging or a beating - fairytales no longer worked on you at that age, so your commanders and generals utilised fear mongering instead. You remember the hate and helplessness burning inside you when you looked at them: if all the mages rebelled at once, the nobles would have no chance, but everyone was too scared. Using your abilities on humans only led to execution.

You remember Seonghwa: he was a mage a few years older who cared for you and San as if you were his blood. He got too strong - you can’t recall his second ability but his first meant he could push a man over the brink of insanity, until he frothed at the mouth and his brain boiled within his skull. When you first witnessed the depth of his power, you were originally struck by the pain in Seonghwa’s eyes, and then by the fear in your commander’s.

The next day, Seonghwa was gone.

Often, you wonder if he fought back, or if he just let them kill him.

After, you made San promise that he wouldn’t show them if his powers developed further. He made you promise the same, and when you fought beside him, he was a constant reminder to reign yourself in, to survive. You were more careful with your powers from then on.

Some nights, though, when the frost ridden night air cut right through the ragged material of your blanket, you huddled next to San and lit a small fire in your hands. He’d tell you to stop, and you’d point out that he was shivering; he’d reply that he’d rather that than get you caught, and you would ignore him, not missing the way he tucked himself closer to the flame.

You didn’t tell him, but sometimes you would shift into a small animal, like a raccoon, and steal food for him in the dead of night. You didn’t answer when he asked you where you got it from, just shrugging and thrusting the rolls of bread and strips of dried meat into his hands, telling him he should eat.

When you were sixteen, San discovered he could animate his shadows. He could mould them like clay in his hands, breathing purpose into them - they would disintegrate within about a week or so, their outlines fading until they dissolved into nothing. San shaped a little dragon for you, the length of your forearm and the width of one of your thumbs; he came to you with it cupped in his hands, awe limning his face as the two of you watched it wriggle through the air between you and coil itself around your wrist.

You have many memories of those times, but one remains crystal clear, even to this day. A year onwards from San’s dragon, you found yourself hemmed in by enemy forces, your body tired from the fight - victory was so close for your side, and because of it, the Hwangso fought even harder, like cornered animals. If you broke through them, you would have been able to easily end their commander, but they had you, six to one. Hands closed around your throat, choking, and as the consciousness bled from you, you heard San’s cry, smelt the fear in the air as he tore through them to get to you: that in itself would have been insignificant - you had saved each other countless times through the years - but he had disobeyed a direct command.

He’d been told to kill the commander. He’d had a clear shot, and even still, he’d ignored orders, choosing to save you instead.

Both of you were beaten for it, and even as you heard the sound of San’s ribs cracking, he held your eyes, silently telling you that he’d do it over and over again, if only to keep you with him.

You think that was the moment when the two of you truly got a taste for rebellion. It was the point in the long, winding thread of your life that made you realise that whatever they told you, you would disregard it if it were for San. Their words no longer had as much power over you, because you knew your bond with him was infinitely stronger than any fear they attempted to instil within you.

Soon after that incident, your commander retired, and he was replaced by a man who was more of a fool than him. You began to lose land to Hwangso’s troops, far enough that the settlement where you grew up in was ravaged, razed to the ground. Your commander informed you that you’d evacuate the highborns, leaving the child mages and the servants behind because they would only slow you down - that was the moment you decided to stop listening to him.

The last mage rebellion had been decades ago - they were not ready. It was pathetic how easy it was to overthrow them; together with the rest of the troops and the mages from the settlement, you rebuilt the town and fortified it. San treated his soldiers with respect, with loyalty, and they loved him for it, for the way he would march into battle with them instead of cowering at the rear, for the way he could often be seen in the newly restored fields, watering the crops, for the way he recognised them for who they were.

To this day, you’re in awe of it. Never in your whole life have you come close to anything but fear for a leader, and yet you see it clear in their eyes that they love San, and that he loves them. He is everything that the highborns fear - a powerful, confident mage, wreathed in righteous shadows, fiercely intelligent, a master of strategy.

One of his first moves was to ally himself with the Hwangso warlord, the very man who had given him as a gift to your province. Deep in the highborn’s eyes was the presumption that he could break San and make him yield, followed a month later by pure terror when you held a knife to his neck, hissing to never speak of San like that again. The two of you brought his head in a sack to Hwangso and claimed your rule over the province.

That didn’t mean it was easy, though. There were the nights when San would tremble in your arms, baring his fears to you, his doubts - that it was getting too much too fast: that maybe he really was just made to follow orders. You scoffed at that - you’d seen him grow up, watched his shoulders broaden and his figure fill out with muscle, you’d seen the fire in his eyes blazing with passion; you knew he’d always be more than enough.

You’re not sure when the love blossomed between the two of you. Maybe it was always there, first shown as fierce protectiveness, later as searing kisses where no one could see, of fingers laced with yours in the dark of night. He married you shortly after he began to be recognised as an actual warlord, not a rogue mage; it was a quiet ceremony, but the celebrations of your people were far from that - rumours of the Neugdae province’s mage warlord and his wife rippled like wildfire through the regions, stirring fear and hope alike.

Some wonder why San does not take more wives - he has control over the Baem province as well Neugdae and Hwangso now, and any warlord with that much power would take on a harem without blinking. Not San, though - he’s different from them, he is a mage, a lowborn, his bronzed skin a sign to them of his childhood in the fields, and they find he is an enigma, as is his mystery shrouded right hand man.

But not to you - you understand him as if you share a soul.

On the surface, you are his only wife, aloof and coldly beautiful. In the shadows, you are his sword, his hand. There are myths of you, of the fire wielding ghost that robes itself in a black cowl and changes its skin into a man’s worst nightmare; stories of how you will twist your victim’s thoughts around until he finds the tip of a blade poking out of his chest, speared right through his back. It’s how you prefer to operate - they fear the unknown, and you are the unknown.

The fabric of the bag held in your fingers is soaked with blood. Within it is the head of the Yong province’s advisor. He was an awful man who deserved what you gave him - in a locked room at the back of his house, you found several young mages, half starved and chained by wrist and ankle to each other and a hook set in the wall. Bile bites at the back of your throat at the thought: you’re lucky you never experienced the uglier side of mage slavery.

Night is falling, the sun casting long shadows down the road. You always find the darkness comforting - it feels as if San is near. Today he is; you raise your fist and knock thrice on the solid wood of the gates, lifting your hand in recognition of the guards who peek over the turrets.

Slowly, they ease open the doors, and you stride into the courtyard, your boots clicking against the roughly hewn pavings. A squadron of your soldiers are sparring, but they halt their training when you enter, snapping to attention as you stop at the centre of the space, the dying rays of the sun streaming down the steps towards you, the air still as you wait.

He appears, his gilded silhouette glorious at the top of the stairs. His shadow guards spill down the steps towards you as he descends; their bodies contort and bend, the swirling mass of them parting around you, liquid night, jaws snapping, circling you until you’re surrounded.

A smirk pulls at your lips, and you throw the bag at his feet. You do not bow low, simply dipping your chin as he extracts the head from the sack, inspecting it and nodding before returning it to its roughly woven grave and handing it to one of his shadows to take away. Meeting your eyes, his own filled with amusement, the hint of a smile flashes over his face.

‘Welcome home, my love.’

San’s words are soft, voice quiet enough for only you to hear. You suppress the urge to pull down your mask and kiss him, instead letting your fingers brush against his as you walk with him up the steps and into the hanok; his shadows close the door behind you and the moment they do, he hooks an arm around your waist and hugs you tight, his embrace warm and sweet as always.

You laugh. ‘I was only gone four days, Sannie.’

‘Four days too long for me to be separated from my wife,’ he replies, pushing your cowl back so he can kiss your forehead.

Gripping his shoulders, you tug him down so you can peck his lips before sending him out to the courtyard again - you’re the last person expected through the gates tonight, so he should go out and dismiss the mages training in the courtyard so they can go home to their families and lock up. A happy sigh leaves you as you toe off your shoes, walking through your home and stripping off your bloody clothes before submerging yourself in the pool sunken in the floor. San has already filled it with fresh water, and it takes you mere seconds to heat it up with your fire.

Leaning with your head against the wooden ledge of the pool, you let your muscles loosen, half closing your eyes. The silence doesn’t last long, though - there’s a soft, steady noise coming from the screen behind you, almost like… breathing.

‘Show yourself,’ you command into the still air.

A man steps into view - a human, eyes crazed, knife clutched in his fingers. You realise he does not know who you really are; he just assumes you are the mage warlord San’s wife, delicate and helpless, and you let that role engulf you, backing away to the other edge of the pool with your eyes wide, luring him closer.

‘Your man took everything from me,’ he spits, blade pointed at you as he stalks forward. ‘He took my power, my wealth, my squadron of soldiers. And now I will take his wife.’

Surging out of the pool, you dodge the swipe he aims at you, sending fire surging down the knife’s handle so he drops it with a cry and twisting his arm behind his back in the most painful way possible, wrenching him down to his knees with his face an inch above the water.

‘How did you get in?’ You ask coolly.

‘I’ll never tell y - ’

You send tongues of flame licking down his ribs. ‘Answer the question or suffer.’

The door eases open, revealing San. His eyes land on you, water dripping down your body as you pin the man to the floor, then the distorted reflection from the blade of the knife that’s fallen into the pool, and something dangerous flashes inside his gaze. You let him grab your attacker by the front of his shirt, lifting him off his feet as he brings him face to face with him; you see San’s jaw clench, his hands balling into fists.

‘How fucking dare you try to come anywhere near my wife,’ he growls, shadows coalescing behind him.

You can tell he’s about to say something else, but he stops as the man, trembling and fruitlessly clawing at San’s fingers, wets himself. Your husband’s lip curls in disgust, and he drops him at your feet, pressing him down onto his knees and yanking his head up so he is forced to look up at you. Bending down, you breathe in the sheer fear permeating the air, a soft smile on your face.

‘Now, answer the question.’

‘You’re not his wife,’ he whispers, pale.

‘Oh, but I am,’ you sneer. ‘But that’s not the only role I occupy.’

Slowly, his face drains of colour, horror rippling across it as it slowly dawns on him. He recoils in San’s grasp, scrabbling at the floor in a sorry attempt to put distance between you; he has finally realised who you are and he acts like fucking coward, his mouth gaping wide in a silent plea. Unhurried, you fish the knife out from the pool, twirling it around your thumb before gliding it gently over the skin of his throat.

‘I’m getting impatient.’

‘I - I - the guards, they were distracted upon your arrival, I snuck in at the southern perimeter, please don’t - ’

His words dissolve into a weak gurgle when you slice open his throat. Blood gushes from the seams of the wound, dribbling from his lips, and you step back as he tips forward, landing with a wet thump face first on the wooden floor. Glancing up at San, you sigh before getting back in the pool. One of his shadows carries the body away and your husband tugs his clothes off and slides into the water beside you, pulling you into his chest.

‘He did not hurt you, I presume?’

You snort. ‘He tried.’

San’s fingers run thoughtfully up and down your arm. ‘I’ll talk to the guards. I probably shouldn’t have put Jisung on dusk duty while he was recovering from that fever.’

You nod but don’t answer, instead pressing a kiss to his collarbone. He hums, tipping his head back to give you more access as you mouth at his skin, letting your palms wander over his shapely chest, grip his broad shoulders, skim his waist; you trace the many scars all over his body, and he allows you to, his strong hands gripping your hips when you settle in his lap.

He curses low at the feel of your teeth sinking into the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, his hips jerking upwards, and you both groan at the sensation of the underside of his cock grazing your clit. Smirking, you let your tongue lave over the spot where you bit, pressing a kiss to his jaw and pulling back as his hands tighten their grip on your ass.

‘Missed you too, Sannie. Good to know how much you missed me.’

‘So fucking bratty,’ he hisses.

A thrill shoots through you as he stands, the water sluicing in rivulets down the planes of his chest, lifting you and laying you on the edge of the pool, pinning your knees to the wood and spreading you open. The crude way he looks at you is all consuming, his eyes surveying you from where he stands with the water to his mid thigh, watching as your pussy clenches at the sight of him towering over you.

San remains there, just looking at you, and you curve your spine, almost whining in attempt to make him touch you without you asking for it. His lips quirk to the side as you squirm, trying to inch your hips down so you can grind against him, but his fingers tighten on you, refusing you.

‘What is it you require of me, love?’

Finding your attempts unsuccessful, you huff, glaring at him. He loves to do this, make you articulate exactly what you want from him - he likes the flush that heats your cheeks, your body still shy even after all your years with him, he likes the breathy noises you make when he forces you to tell him just what you desire when all you can think of is his dick, he likes it when you can’t help but beg him.

‘Y - your fingers,’ you mumble. ‘And your cock.’

‘Say that louder for me, sweetheart, I didn’t catch the last bit.’

‘Your fingers and your fucking cock,’ you snap - a sorry endeavour at trying to hide how much you love when he inflicts this upon you.

San raises an eyebrow, not moving to touch you. Waiting.

‘Please,’ you add.

He smiles. ‘There we go. Wasn’t so hard, was it?’

Your mouth opens to retort, but he slips his fingers inside you, and your back bows, a soft moan leaving your lips as he sweeps his thumb over your clit, his other hand palming your breasts, his tongue dragging over your skin. Burying your hands in his hair, you tug, making him groan low and deep as you pull him closer.

Delectably, his fingers curl, and you ache for him. San has ruined you for anyone else, he is branded onto your soul and also your body, fading marks from your last time together still slightly visible on your throat - a necklace of love bites, laying claim to you. He catches your chin as he brings you closer to the edge, tasting your moans on his tongue, grinding his palm against your clit.

You keen, coming hard around him, chest heaving, and he smirks, holding your waist as shudders wrack your legs from the aftershocks. The fire in his eyes burns ever brighter, so hot you feel your stomach go molten - your hands tighten on his shoulders, nails raking over his back, your tongue unable to form anything other than his name.

‘You’re always so willing to behave once your pussy’s full, hm?’

‘No, I,’ you start, but cry out when he pinches your clit in warning, the muscles of your thighs jumping as it lances through you, white hot. ‘Y - yes, yes, I am, please - ’

In one fluid movement, San buries himself inside you, sheathing himself until his hips kiss yours. Catching you wrists in his hand, he pins them above your head, and your back arches as he pulls out, agonisingly slowly, every ridge and vein of his cock dragging on your walls before slamming back in, tearing a cry of his name from your chest. Tugging your legs up from where they were wrapped around his waist, he hooks your knees over his shoulders - the new angle makes you sob, writhing beneath him as his cock head drives into perfection, drives you to euphoria.

Sometimes, San makes love to you, but not tonight: tonight he fucks into you mercilessly, traces of possessiveness lacing his actions as he litters your skin with bites, his hands leaving exquisite bruises on your hips. Pleasure tears through you like an arrow through your heart, white hot and maddening, ravenous.

‘You fit around my cock so well,’ he pants. ‘Like you were made for me, sweetheart.’

Something snaps inside you at his words, and as if he senses it, San presses his thumb down hard on your clit, speeding up his thrusts until the air is punched from your lungs. Stars flash before your eyes, and your mouth falls open, toes curling as you come on his cock, your cunt convulsing around him, thighs twitching; he doesn’t stop, just continues ploughing into you, and you tremble, tears slipping down your cheeks at the relentless pound of his hips into yours.

With a gasp, he pulls out and comes over your stomach, his wide shoulders rising and falling with heaving breaths, and you groan as he eases you back into the warm water, a hand cupping the back of your neck as he tucks your head under his chin, sliding his softening cock into you again. Wrapping your arms around him, you press a kiss to his jaw and rest your hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

‘How do you feel, my love?’

You nuzzle your face into his shoulder. ‘Good. Really fucking good.’

He laughs, and you bask in the sound of his happiness and the comfort of his warm skin against yours. San’s hands run up and down your spine, soothing, and you smile sleepily; you are home, reunited with your other half, the missing part of your soul.

With San, you are complete.

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oweninadaydream · 7 months

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𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐩𝐭 𝟐 || 𝐅.𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 : Say Don't Go (Taylor's version) (From The Vault) or 4 times you say 'I love you' and Finnick says nothing back.

𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 : Finnick Odair x reader

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 : 2k

𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼 : angst/fluffy ending i promise, TW: mentions of torture ,anxiety and kidnapping (first story).

𝓪/𝓷 : As promised, here's part 2 of say don't go pt 1 !!! I hope you enjoy the fic!!!

3. 𝓰𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾

You woke up in your bed, yet you could not recall how you got there. Your body felt sore and stiff but nothing could top the way your head was pounding. You were seated against the headboard and you noticed that something wasn’t right ; you couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but you knew deep inside that something was different. To help calm your distress, you tried to remember anything about the day before . You realized right and then that your memory was completely blank, leaving you even more worried than you were prior to that failed attempt.

You had assumed you were all alone, but then you saw Finnick pass through your bedroom door. “Thank God he’s here” you thought, convincing yourself that everything would be alright now that he was there with you (even if you ignored the motivation behind his unexpected visit). He slowly made his way inside and stood in the middle of the room, keeping himself at arm’s length, something extremely unusual that confirmed your gut feeling. Once he had entered your bedroom, you couldn’t help but analyze him and his strange attitude. His movements were robotic as if someone had a remote control that forced him to act like that. His eyes had never been a mystery to you , you could always tell what was going on inside him with a single stare . But this time it was different; he was staring at you with an impassive look that you couldn't quite read, making your whole body tremble in fear and distrust.

You felt intimidated and tried to figure out what was wrong with him “Finn dear, what’s going on?" you asked with a quivering smile. You tried to lift your hand to reach his but ,for some reason, you couldn't. It felt like you were strapped to the mattress and you started panicking, as you couldn't figure out what was happening. Seeking comfort, you pleaded with him in between sobs "I'm very scared Finnick please tell me something, anything. Or just hold me because this is very confusing. I- I feel like- I can't move out of bed, I- I need you"

He simply continued to play his stoic role ; he didn't move one inch before your panic attack or your efforts to set free from the invisible restraints holding you down. "Help me" you whispered with an expression of pure pain on your damped face. Your foggy brain couldn't process the scene before your eyes ; the person who represented love, hope and comfort in your miserable life was being a passive witness to your spectacle of fear and it didn’t seem like he was going to jump into action anytime soon.

You noticed a rapid change in his factions. His eyes burst into flames of hatred and his clenched jaw only accentuated the shift from indifference to hostility. Instead of hurrying to console and aid you like the Finnick you knew would, this empty shell of a man that resembled him broke the distance between you and wrapped his hands around your throat, beginning to strangle you purposefully.

You had been living in survival mode ever since you were chosen as a tribute for District 4 all those years ago, you were no stranger to fighting or death, but never in a million years would you have imagined that the man who swore to shield you from any danger would be the one stealing your breath with his bare hands in an extremely violent manner . You were desperately gasping for air and coughing while he continued to focus on his mission.

For a moment, he seemed to let his hold loose a bit and you took the chance to try and talk him into letting go "Finn, it's me. Why are you doing this?Is anyone making you do this? We take care of each other, remember? I love you more than anything." you told him with a soft but raspy voice as a consequence of his assault. You were tired and wanted to give up, but you continued to fight for him, for your Finn to come back. Apparently, hearing your desperate confession only aggravated the situation, because you felt the strength returning to his hands.

Suddenly, in between your cries and the lack of air , you felt yourself fading away. But before that happened , you heard a very loud scream. In the blink of an eye, you were no longer in your house and Finnick was nowhere to be seen. A white sterile room welcomed you to reality as some doctors accompanied by two peacekeepers entered the room.

Oh, you remember now. You were kidnapped by the Capitol, who had been subjecting you to all kinds of twisted experiments and never-ending abuse for who knows how long. The loud cries and several swear words that made you snap out of that nightmare were Johanna's, whose room was at your right. Peeta was your other neighbor, allowing you to hear them both being tortured at any given time. You looked at your arms and legs and saw the ropes tying you down , justifying the oppressing feeling you had while hallucinating.

The main theme of your punishments for not snitching was him, Finnick Odair. Snow was more than aware of the deep devotion you held for him and how dear you were to him so he figured the perfect torture would be messing with your memories and use several techniques to impose fear and pain in your heart whenever you thought of him or saw his face. That way, you would finally be all alone in this world , scared of the only thing you've ever loved so greatly and he would have to witness you shy away from him in pure terror. To meet his goal, they would drug you and play videos and recordings of him saying the meanest and cruelest words that you knew he would never be able to pronounce, but as the days passed , the truth and the imposed thoughts started to blur in one big and confusing mass.

You were resisting quite well to President Snow's diabolic plan, but you could only hold onto your actual memories for so long. One of the last things you remembered thinking about before you let yourself fall into madness were his eyes, and how much you loved them.

If your suffering assured his survival, you'd tell the Capitol to put you through it a thousand more times , and you would gladly do it again. If only you could have held your sweet Finnick for one more minute before letting him go forever…

4. 𝓪𝓷 𝓸𝓭𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮

The setting sun turned the white-sanded coast of District 4 a soft but enchanting shade of orange. The waves crashing against the rocks accompanied perfectly the idyllic landscape and brought a sense of calmness to the people assembled there. The summer solstice is a day where usually people celebrate the arrival of a new season, but that was not the case this time.

The beach looked magnificent, Effie had been the chief in charge of making everything (and everyone) look ideal for the occasion that brought them all together on that day. The first rows of white chairs were occupied by Haymitch, Effie, Katniss, Peeta, Johanna, Annie and right next to her, there was Mags, the woman who had taken care of you both for so many years and had seen how you two where meant to be from the first time you and your fiancé (soon to be husband) exchanged looks.

Neither you nor Finnick had ever thought about marrying anyone ; under Snow's regime, you were mere pieces of a game with no actual power of decision. But that didn't matter anymore. You were walking towards Finnick, who was nervously fidgeting with the sleeve of his suit , waiting for you at the end of the isle. When you finally arrived at your destination, you couldn't help but to turn around and go back to hug Mags, who received you with open arms and a couple of shed tears over her face. After this emotional moment, you went back to Finnick's side "Hi" you whispered so that the conversation could remain secret from all the guests "You come here often?" he teased with a beaming smile on his face. You let out a breathy laugh to relieve some tension and then you both turned so that the ceremony could start.

"I want to keep this vows short because I would need another lifetime just to expose the million reasons why this is the best day of my life. We're free, my love. It's truly over. This is our reward after a whole life of suffering and holding back. I am so in love with you, it's hard to put it into words. You know? Mags once told me that the thing I needed the most had always been right in front of me and I didn't get what she meant by that in that moment. She just laughed at me and told me that I would understand, one of these days" Mags in the front row was a tearful mess "and now I do. I really do" he stated confidently while holding your hands on his.

"My soul craves intertwining itself with yours until there's no way to separate them. So, with this ring" he then proceeded to grab your left hand so cautiously as if you would break at the minimum touch, and slip the golden ring in your finger "I, Finnick Odair, swear to protect, satisfy and devote myself to you ; my friend, my savior and now my spouse. I can't wait to spend the rest of my days with my forever love, which happens to be you" He had always hated to see you cry, even if they were happy tears, so he had to insert a little joke to see you chuckle and be able to hear the most beautiful sound on Earth ; your laugh.

You could sense that your voice would betray you at the minimum attempt to speak, so you needed to rush through your vows before you would explode into tears "God Finnick, you always know how to leave me speechless." the guests all laughed, moved by the evident complicity between the two of you.

"I always knew you were my soulmate, the person I was meant to find. The love I carry for you in my heart used to feel too heavy, but now that I get to set it free, it's more like energy rushing though my whole body, healing all the broken parts. I have the privilege to experience how it feels being loved by you and I want to try and describe it for all our friends who are here today" you breathed in and out and kept talking "Being loved by you feels like being rocked by the sea, like waking up to the smell of freshly baked goods or like being tucked into a warm bed in wintertime. It's exiting, comforting, amusing and an insane amount of other things that I could say right now" you recited while staring at his piercing green eyes that were completely red and filled with tears . You caressed his cheek and tried to wipe them away. "I will always follow you wherever you go, until the end of time. That's what I've always wanted to do and I couldn't be more exited about spending the rest of my life with such a handsome and amazing man. I love you."

Before you could do or say anything else, Finnick held your face between his hand and kissed you like he had been wanting to do since the ceremony started. You said 'I love you' and he said nothing back, but it wasn't so bad this time.

TAGLIST : @bambikitten , @thefourrealms , @shooting-a-star-at-the-moon , @justtrying2getby .

#the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #the hunger games imagine #the hunger games fanfiction #male reader #female reader #gender neutral reader

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pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb · 4 months

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PERIOD COMFORT FIC

Law x f!crewmember

Can be read as either platonic or romantic.

Y’all it’s that time again and I would ask him to do this for me. I’m dying.

TW’s: period talk, organ removal, medicine, pain, talk of gore(?), no use of Y/N.

Unedited drabble. Enjoy my fellow freaks.

———

“Law… can I ask you to do something really weird?”

He scowled up at you, textbook in front of him forgotten. You saw pictures of plants but a wave of pain made you clench your teeth and shut your eyes.

“What is it?” He asked cautiously. You were slightly hunched over, and trying to suppress shivers of pain. He stood, walking around his desk and put his hand on your shoulder to steady you. It took a few moments before you were able to speak confidently again.

“You know I’m female, right?” You said awkwardly. Law rose one brow, guiding you to sit in the chair behind you.

“…yes?” He said, wondering where on earth you were going with this.

“And you know females have periods?”

He tilted his head at your question.

“Yeah? Are you in pain?” He asked tentatively. He leaned against his desk and didn’t try to keep you from balling up as another cramp seared through your abdomen and lower back. You blinked back tears.

A shaky hand reached out and gripped the hem of his shirt. His hand hovered over your wrist, pausing when you spoke.

“Law. Get this fucking uterus out of me and put it in a bath of lidocaine before I fucking do it myself” you gritted out. Both his eyebrows rose and he swallowed harshly. He didn’t respond, only raising a hand to spawn a blue dome.

“Room” his voice shook a little, but transported the two of you to the infirmary. You were sitting on an exam table, and Law was in front of you. He looked a little pale, but another wave of pain rocketing though your lower half had you curling up on the table as Law clattered around at the counter, opening packages and pouring certain liquids in a huge beaker. He flicked on the Bunsen burner to warm the liquid, and put the beaker on a tripod he put above the blue flame.

“You’re on birth control, right?” He asked over his shoulder. You wanted to snap at him, but didn’t have the energy.

“Yeah” you replied shortly. He flipped open a file, and he hummed.

“That kind should help immensely with cramps and pain. Most women even stop their period with it” he muttered.

“Well obviously that’s not the fucking case with me, is it?” You couldn’t help but retort. He only glanced at you as you curled back up with a whimper. You heard some glass tapping against each other as he checked the temperature of the bath he was preparing.

“Okay. Try to lay flat on the table” he instructed. You hissed in pain but managed to put your back flat on the table with your knees bent.

“Straighten your legs. It’ll only hurt for a second” he said clinically. You glared at him but followed instructions. He cast his Room again, and removed your uterus. The jelly-like substance around it was clear, and you looked at your organ. It was only as big as your fist.

“How can something so small cause so much pain?” You huffed out. You saw the muscles twitch and a wave of pain clawed through your abdomen. Your back arched as you gasped before you curled into the fetal position again.

Law said nothing as he gently placed the organ in the bath, adjusting the flame of the Bunsen burner so it wouldn’t get too hot. You felt the warmth cover your uterus, and you groaned in relief. Law turned back to you with a smirk.

“It isn’t a bath of lidocaine, but it’ll work well” he said. He seemed rather proud of himself. You held out a hand, and he walked closer. You gripped his wrist, and looked at him with tears shining in your eyes.

“Thank you” you whispered. He grunted, and looked away with flushed cheeks.

“You’re forbidden from doing that shit by yourself like you said you would” he said sternly. You smiled weakly at him, twitching as a faint pain went through your lower abdomen.

“Okay” you murmured. You yawned, and sat up. You were so tired from fighting the pain all day.

“I’ll go back to my duties now” you said.

“The hell you will” Law said firmly. You looked at him in surprise.

“Go rest. Read, sleep, draw, whatever you do. If we got by without you before, we can do it for the rest of the evening” he said. Your slight smile turned into a frown as you thought about his words.

“Then… you guys don’t really need me” you said sadly.

“What? No that’s not what I said. I meant- fuck. I mean… the crew cares about you and would want you to get some rest after fighting this all day, okay? We can handle it.”

You look up at him, tears building in your eyes.

“Are you sure? I’m not too emotional and worthless?” You asked in a wavering voice.

“What? Where did- no. You’re not too emotional and worthless. Let’s go get you settled in your bunk” he said gently. You nodded, and let your head fall with a slight ‘thunk’ on his chest. You felt the surgeon sigh, then rub his hands up and down your arms.

“C’mon. I’ll carry you” he said quietly. You nodded listlessly. He scooped you up so your legs were hanging over his arm and his other arm was cradling the back of your shoulders.

You closed your eyes, tears falling down your face as you gripped his shirt. He quickly carried you to the room you shared with Ikkaku, and opened the door with the hand under your knees. Ikkaku looked up from flipping through a magazine on her bunk, her duties done for the day. She looked concerned as soon as her eyes landed on you cradled in Law’s arms.

“What happened?!” She sat up quickly and watched as Law placed you on your bunk. She sat down at the foot of your bed.

“Period cramps” you muttered. The other woman winced in sympathy. She looked at Law.

“Did you give her meds?” She asked. Law shook his head.

“Her… organ is in the infirmary in a warm bath with meds in it” he said. His cheeks flushed as he referred to your uterus. Ikakku’s eyes lit up.

“You can do that?!” She said excitedly. Law groaned with a nod. He turned to leave.

“Take care of her” he said, opening the door. The woman nodded, looking at you. You smiled at her tiredly.

“Take a nap. I’ll see if there’s anything I need to help with” she left you in a darkened room, and you drifted off into the world of sleep.

———

Note: I actually looked this up and no I didn’t get an answer. I also couldn’t remember or find the name of his move where he removes an organ lol.

#one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece #one piece fluff #one piece x y/n #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law fluff #trafalgardwaterlaw #law fluff #one piece law #law x reader #law x you #law x y/n

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baby-tini · 21 days

Note

Reader sees Dabi in an alley by accident and tries to get away quietly but Dabi sees her and brings her into the alley. He has her up the wall with a hand firmly around her neck but not chocking her but enough to threaten her. He asks for her personal info and takes pictures of her for reference just in case anything happens. And he looks at her more closely and he's like wow she's always more pretty. So he thinks for a bit and makes a deal you get out in one piece if you let me fuck you. The reader already knew he was giving her a false sense of choice so she agrees. Dabi likes her submissiveness so he gave her the choice of the location to fuck. And while she is thinking Dabi is already so handsy with her. Kissing her neck and running his hands up and down her body. He's like 'if you don't pick quick im fucking you here in the alley'. And she eventually picks a love hotel not too far from them. Once they were done fucking it's the next morning and Dabi is gone but she checks her phone messages and there's a lot of photos and videos of them together in different positions and a note at the end

See you next time Doll~

💙Dabi

(the blackmail really gets me fr😭)

TW: DUBCON, blackmail, noncon pictures and video taking, a hint of coercion. Work was always so boring, you wanted something fun. There was nothing fun about serving drunk men alcohol as they thanked you with raunchy comments. Trying to grope you while you were just doing your job. Complaining about their "bitch wife" in a drunken slur then passing out. The money was good though.. and your co-workers weren't awful. But that really didn't mean anything in the end.

It was too much, you just needed a cigarette and then you could finish your shift then go home and sleep the rest of the night away. It was warm outside, pretty too. Sky full of different shades of blue, no clouds in sight. It was quiet surprisingly, considering you weren't in the best part of town. The attacks from the League of Villains ramping up by tenfold, charred bodies appearing in multitudes. Consumed by beautiful azul flames licking away at ash. Some were lucky though, if you could even call it that, some people were burned so bad they were disfigured, leaving ugly third degree burns on their face and arms. Hopefully they weren't in this part of the city yet.

But then again, the heros were on their ass.. so it's possible. Leaning your head back against the wall, you sigh out, closing your eyes for a couple seconds before you hear footsteps. Your eyes snap open as your head snaps to the sound. There's a man in a black tattered coat, he looks exhausted. Purple burnt skin attached to healthy skin by staples. Tattered clothes with mangy boots.

Holy shit, it can't be... they shouldn't be in this part of the city, not this soon anyway. You have too get out, now. You try to be quiet, you really do, but you can't be quiet wearing heels. You mistook a step, catching the eye of the assailant. His piercing blue eyes shoot up towards you, a sick grin crawling up on his lips. As he walks closer, stumbling back you trip over your heels. He chuckles at you, grabbing your arms too lift you up, "easy there doll, what's your problem, hm? You scared?" You swallow down the dry air, shaking your head at him as you try to shake off his grip. But his hold on you just tightens, reminds you of a boa constrictor, trying too keep his prey at bay.

He presses you into the wall with an-unassuming amount of strength, pressing into you as he leans down towards your ear. "Where you goin, doll? I'm not gonna hurt you... if you comply that is." Squeezing your eyes shut, you nod into his chest, trying too control your breathing. You inhale deeply before stuttering out a response. "What did you, uh.. what did you want from me..?" There's a sniffle between your words.

"Mmm, yeah, need something real bad baby, think you can help me, hm?" You swallow down your spit, hesitantly nodding at him. "I- uh... I think, what did you need Sir.." He chuckles at that, running his nose up and down your cheek, inhaling deeply into your hair. "Sir, huh? You into that dolly?" You feel your fingers twitch against his tattered coat as you shake your head at him.

"N-no.. I just- I don't know your name..so," he leans back at that. Eyeing you up and down he grins, "that's cute baby, you really don't know who I am? That makes me a little sad honestly, but it's Dabi... I like Sir much better though, what do you think?" You swallow again, your right hand rubbing up and down your left arm, as your eyes look to the side. Rolling his eyes, he grabs your chin and makes you look at him. "Nah ah, don't look away from me, I'm not done talking to you bitch." Licking your lips, you swallow before looking up at him again. "There you go, you gonna behave for? Gonna help me with my... big problem babydoll, hm? Say, "Yes Sir." Your left hand twitches before you nod up at him, "Yes Sir, i'll help you with your... big problem." He hums at you before tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and smirking at you. "I knew you would, you're so good, huh? Gonna let you pick the location cause' you're being so sweet for me... go 'head." You sniffle before licking your lips and nodding again. He hums, rubbing his thumb over your cheek and pulling down your bottom lip. "I wanna... can we go to the love hotel.. it's only a couple blocks away.. I want my first time to be.. a little special." He grins, pulling you towards his side with an arm wrapped around you. "Ahh, little slut's a virgin, wouldn't 've guessed." You try to shuffle away at that but he just tightens his hold around you. "C'mon baby, I was just joking, I'll behave from now on, promise," he snickers. It take's a minute to get there, with Dabi trying to get there as quickly as possible... his problem continuously growing as you walk with him. The hotel is pretty run down, smelling of weed and sex. The painting is peeling from the walls as women and men alike are staggering around and theirs people making out just outside the hotel, grinding and sliding their hands down the others clothes. "This is where you wanted your special moment?" He raises an eyebrow at you as he throws a wad of bills on the check-in desk. You huff at him, "it's better then some sleazy alleyway, surrounded by heroin needles." You retort, grabbing the key from him and walking to the room. He follows closely behind not failing to be as touchy as possible while you open the door. He ushers you into the room as he pins you against the wall and getting to work marking up your neck.

You try to slow your heart rate as your hands ball in his shirt, with a hiss he grinds his cock into your thigh. Nipping at your collar bone and running his tongue over your jugular as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. You tilt your head back, giving him more access as you run your hands up his shirt. He chuckles into your neck, pulling your shirt over your head and sucking your nipples through your bra. He laughs against your chest when you let out a choked whimper, clawing at his stomach. He huffs before snapping your bra from the back and sucking nipple and playing with the other, pinching it and leaving hickeys between your tits. He grabs you by your hair, pulling you towards the bed and throwing on it face first. Your breasts flat against the rough-feeling mattress, as you try to get up, he pushes you back against it, a hand holding pressed into the curve of your lower back. "Nah ah, fucking stay.. don't need you IDing me now princess." You breathe out softly and nod into the sheets, your body relaxing against the bed while he pulls your pants and panties down, letting them fall to your ankles. You hear him groan from behind you, he runs a warm hand over your ass before slapping it a couple times and chucking when you squeeze your legs shut. "Dirty little bitch, you want it real bad, yeah? Yeah you fuckin' do, say please and I might fuck you with the tip bitch." You whine into the sheets, salty tears leaking down your cheeks and staining the sheets. He chuckles, taking a hand and pushing your head down into the mattress as his other hand unzips and takes off his pants, his boxers being pulled down in the process, he spreads your pussylips apart before leaning down and spitting on your clit, before fucking his tip into your cunt and groaning when he feels you tighten around him. Your pussy feels so good, warm and tight, just how he likes it. He fucks into you harder, using a hand to stabilize himself next to your head as he fucks into you harder. He's so big, you can feel him in your stomach, it hurts a little, stretching so wide to accommodate him as he growls in your ear. You're so deep into it, your head so fogged up that you don't hear the camera shutters or feel him spread you wide as he films the two of you locked together. He fucks you good, you'll give him that, you don't remember passing out as he fucked into you, waking up to your familiar ringtone of your phone as you sit up, breasts spilling over the blanket as you lean towards the bedside table... 'Dabi' left you a text, "I had a fun night doll, I know you did too.. or else you wouldn't 've passed out on my cock, It was good wasn't it, I know it was, don't worry you can tell me in person when I come see you again. You're the best pussy I've had in a while if I'm being honest. Pretty wet pussy too, It's like a hug for my dick, if you will lol. Also, don't even think about trying to get away .. unless you want these getting leaked to your boss and family pretty baby." A couple seconds later six pictures and four videos pop up. Now it all makes sense... he wasn't worried about being Ided, you had already seen his face, plue he gave you his name... you're screwed literally.

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animeyanderelover · 29 days

Note

Can i request headcanons for feitan, madara, Indra, jojo( Joseph and caesar) for fem reader being a time and world traveler? Like she can come and go as she pleases or when she gets bored and wants to see something else. She enjoys taking her time and exploring each world she visits

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, stalking, clinginess, paranoia, threats, manipulation, blackmailing, violence, female s/o

Tags: @shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan @jamayah @chxxz @leveyani @cynniical @shenryu-sama @simplydlightfuldestiny @flaming-vulpix

S/o is a time and world traveler

Indra Otsutsuki

💜There is something different about you. Years of training and honing his abilities to utmost perfection have given Indra a very keen intuition on people's skills through simple observation. Someone as skilled and strong as he is does not have time like his younger brother to waste his time with everyone, instead he is much more selective with his preferences clearly lying in stronger people. That is why he finds himself seeking you out as he as a feeling that you will prove yourself as worthy of his attention and time. His intuition is after all rarely wrong. As you are a traveler who has found her way to their village, Indra instantly takes it upon himself to separate you from people he does not deem to be worth of the attention and time he plans to invest in you. He shall be your guide and adviser during the time you spend in the village. Despite being known for his unforgiving nature and harsh attitude, you find out that he is quite attentive and mellow when he is left alone with you, answering all your questions.

💜Accompanying you as you get to know the world around you becomes one of his favorite activities as he relishes in the privacy he can have with only you. As seasons come and go, he finds himself growing quite possessive of your time he sees as far too precious to clown around with those he does not see as fitting. You are far too knowledgable and skilled to waste your day with people who will never become strong enough for him to acknowledge. By now he only seems to tolerate his little brother and his father around you as he scares others away from your side. Yet not only does he scare those he deems as weak away, he also insists for you to let him train you as he would hate for you to not grow fully into the potential he knows you possess. He discovers very soon though that he has barely anything to teach you as the opposite would be much truer. As uncomfortable as he feels when figuring out that you seem to be stronger than him, he shows willingness to learn so that he will eventually surpass you in order to hold the illusion of being in control.

💜It is his father's decision to name Asura as the next successor that ultimately pushes Indra over the edge and it is the defeat he suffers at the hand of the brother he always thought to be weaker that fuels his obsession. Not being the one who is stronger equals now not being in control which is why he grows quite paranoid with you as he knows that he has never bested you in skills. It is his very real threat of abducting you to keep you for himself that finally leads you to reveal the truth to him about the full potential of your powers. Your powers let you be closer to a god than an actual human and this knowledge humbles and humiliates him. A feeling of insignificance threatens to weight him down as he comes to realise that in your eyes he must be something to be forgotten as time passes by. A knot of emotions, unable to be untangled, is born in his heart and makes it hard to navigate. Between the anger, the sorrow and the paranoia there is one thing Indra is certain of though. That he will have you bending down to his will, no matter what.

Madara Uchiha

🌑You appear before him in a time of rare desperation as his heart feels heavy as the last member of his family is battling with death after having been mortally wounded by Tobirama Senju during one of their many battles. Everyone from the doctors has proclaimed that there is no saving Izuna yet here you stand, unfaced as you are surrounded by hostile Uchiha warriors and proclaim that you can save his younger brother from the tight grip of death. No one believes you, not even Madara yet you know of his deepest wish to not lose Izuna and ultimately Madara allows you to tend to Izuna. If you cannot fulfill what you have promised, he will see it through to make you regret every single word you have dared to use to lie to his clan. You defy all expectations though as you save his younger brother from unescapable death using a jutsu that no one of the medics in the Uchiha clan have ever seen before. As Izuna is on a safe way of recovery, many beg of you to stay a while longer and to learn the abilities that you possess.

🌑The Uchiha value power and skill and you possess plenty of it. Madara, quite intrigued by you, only joins the offer of his clan as he asks of you to accept the hospitality of his clan so that he can properly express the gratitude he feels. To the delight of everyone you accept the offer though as you have been planning to settle down for a while to take a break from your travels. As the war continues raging on outside, you are treated kindly within the Uchiha compound as many of the strong clan ask of you to learn from you. You have no interest in the war yet your strength is undeniable as you have taken some offers to spar with some of the warriors out of your personal boredom. Some even suggest to make you an ally to fight against the Senju yet as you voice your clear displeasure against that idea, Madara sees it through to silence all who dare to think like this. It is no secret that he is utterly smitten with you at this point and does whatever he can to ensure that you stay with his clan.

🌑In his mind he has already named you as the wife he wishes to take as your knowledge, sharpness and skill are most desirable traits. Someone special as you only deserves an equally impressive man. A man like him. Rumors have already spread, the eldest of his clan have already given him their blessing for his decision yet it is then that you decide that it is time to leave. You manage to sneak away from everyone yet he catches you in your attempt. Initially he persuade you to change your mind yet when he realises that you have made up your mind, he switches his plans and instead tries to use force on you. It is that night that he is bested by someone for the first time as not even Hashirama has ever beaten him so effortlessly. He is as impressed as he is humiliated, something he has never felt before. It is only then that you decide to confess to him your true origins and powers. Perhaps for others it would be soothing to know that they lost against someone who transcends through time and even space yet he has never been someone to resign himself to his fate. Red eyes glare at you as you go your separate ways as he swears that he will become even a god to claim you as his.

Feitan Portor

☠️Commonly it is believed that first impressions matter yet if that were to be true, Feitan couldn't care less. You truly appear in the wrong place at the wrong time as the city you currently reside in becomes an unfortunate victim of a heist of the Phantom Troupe. Completely left in the blind with what is going on, you do what you deem to be the right thing to do as you try to save at least some people which leads you to violently clash with no one else but Feitan himself. Initially your brave facade is scoffed at yet you manage to impress him to the point where he even finds himself enjoying a fight he initially is confidet he will win. You are just strong and stubborn enough for him to enjoy the idea of toying a bit with you and eventually break you. Just as it appears like he has won though, you finally seem to be mad enough to use your true abilities. Feitan doesn't fully understand what happens, only that you easily overpower him and shame him as he realises that you held back the entire time.

☠️Humiliated and ashamed of his defeat he feels guilty for letting the troupe down by not doing his part yet Chrollo does not think badly of him as he knows of Feitan's skills. Instead it begs the question of what your abilities exactly are for you to defeat Feitan as effortlessly as you did. It would be safe to investigate you and Feitan is quite adamant to participate as he is silently brooding due to the defeat he had to suffer because of you. Very soon he finds himself confronted with the problem that he can't find any data about you as not even Shalnark can dig up information involving you. You may as well be a ghost and all of it only feeds Feitan's growing frustration as he finds himself reduced to the pitiful position of stalking you personally, just itching for a chance to fight with you again and get you back for his shameful loss. What was initially obsession for revenge soon turns into something else though yet when he fully realises the seriousness of it all, it is already too late for him to turn back.

☠️The amount of time he dedicates to stalk you increases as he starts growing quite impatient and perhaps even a tiny bit desperate. Weeks of stalking yet he knows nothing about you nor about your Nen abilities. Why do you have to make it so difficult for him? When he finds out that you plan to leave the city and continue your journey, he is triggered. You react quite unfazed though even as the sharp tip of his sword is pressed against the back of your neck as his quiet and hoarse voice forbids you to leave this city. He still hasn't gotten his chance to beat you after all. To his dismay you reveal to him that you have known of his stalking the entire time, only adding more insult to his humiliation. You manage to defuse the situation though when you offer him the chance to ask you a few questions which you will answer to the best of your abilities. Whilst at first iffy, he takes that offer and asks you the question that has been bothering him the most. What exactly are your abilities? The answer you give him is too ridiculous to believe yet he senses no lie in your words. He falls silent yet you can see how he is brainstorming for a solution in that moment. He knows that you plan to leave. He can't have you do that.

Joseph Joestar

🦾Your cover is instantly blown when you travel to a new world. Joseph, with his stupid luck, just had to see you suddenly appear through the portal you opened what should have been a reclusive area. Instead you meet eye to eye with none other than the young Joseph who is gawking at you with a dumbfounded expression on his face. You can't blame him for that. In the next moment he dramatically points his index finger at you, asking you aghast if you are some sort of witch. You fear for a short moment that you'll have to do something but to your luck the Joestar has no intention of stopping you as he tends to avoid problems normally. Instead you manage to figure things out with him as you have no choice but to confess to him the truth, especially since he seems to be quite witty and sharp, recognising it if you try to lie to him. After he has been convinced that you are merely a tourist from another world and plan to cause no chaos, you two instantly hit off.

🦾Can you blame him though? It is not everyday that he stumbles upon someone who can travel through time and space. Instead he finds himself enjoying showing you around and being able to boost his own ego by amazing you with the stuff that is ordinary to him but new for you. He can't stop himself from flirting with you, although you find out that he does this quite commonly with the people around him so you learn to brush it off. He does like to remind you that you have the most unique and otherwordly charm of all people though. Quite literally. He enjoys your presence greatly though because you keep up with his antics, even if it has gotten the both of you in troubles quite some time before. It is only natural in hindsight that he caught feelings and whilst he may appear quite silly at times, Joseph is quite clever. Though he does like to think at the beginning that his feelings are nothing serious, he has no way to deny it anymore at a certain point.

🦾He proceeds to act the same way he has always done to not rouse your suspicion but on the inside he is brainstorming already. He is no fool after all. You have told him yourself that you travel around when you get bored of a world. Very subtly he attempts to pry for more information about how exactly your powers, expressing genuine curiosity as he asks you if you can bring other people along. Honestly, he doesn't mind your abilities that much if it wouldn't be for the very real chance that you will simply never return to him again. If he would just know that you would reciprocate his feelings, he would even be up to tag along and see some new worlds for himself. He doesn't know if you feel the same though and even if he continues to flirt and has gotten as of lately more clingy and even a tad bit more jealous, he hesitates to tell you. He knows after all. He knows that his feelings are rather creepy and unhealthy. Let's just hope that he can delay your leave for as long as possible by keeping you entertained until he has found a solution...

Caesar A. Zeppeli

🫧Caesar is no stranger to the concept of courting young ladies and stealing their heart in the process. He seems to be instantly attracted to you when he sees you as you have something special about you that he can't yet put his finger around. Adamant to discover what makes you so special to instantly capture his heart though, he does not shy away from approaching you with a gentlemanly playfulness that has always worked on women before. Whilst you appear to be amused as you can clearly see his intentions, you decide to see how it'll go out of curiosity nevertheless. You can indeed see the appeal in the young and hot-blooded man after a while as he truly doesn't hold back when it comes to his partner. Expensive jewelry and gifts are all given to you, dates in fine restaurants become a daily occurrence and sweet and romantic words that belong in a romance novel are whispered into your ears. Truly, he does not shy away from making a lady feel like the world belongs to her.

🫧You can enjoy it only because you have heard and seen that he treats all ladies that way which is why you think of this as nothing too serious. That is until you notice the shift in his behavior. His eyes stray less to other ladies and solely focus on you with a warm and adoring glimmer in those green eyes, he invades your physical privacy by always taking an extra step to be closer to you out of growing protectiveness and you have realised his growing disdain as whenever he spots you with another man as he is turning without a doubt more and more possessive of you. You don't intend to have him fall truly in love with you because you know that you would leave him with a broken heart so you try to distance yourself from him in hopes that he will stop. Yet the moment you dare to pull back, his paranoia seems to increase. His mind is racing, wondering what it could be that has caused such a rift between you two and much to your sadness you find him multiple times in front of your door, begging you to tell him what is shackling your heart.

🫧Caesar is fully aware of his reputation as a womanizer and he truly regrets it now that he has found the one lady he wants to marry and spend his life with. He is far too delusional to fully acknowledge the unfitting desperation he starts to display the further he feels you drifting away from him. As you notice that no rationality will work on him anymore, you decide to leave the city. The world you are in is still big after all and you have much left to discover. Yet you are aware that Caesar has abilities which aren't common for other people of this world to possess so you address an honest letter to him, trusting him enough to keep your secret safe. The heartbreak attacks him like a vicious dog when he breaks into your empty apartment after you did not answer the door and he finds your letter where you explain the situation to him. Still, he refuses to believe your words that deny that you two could never have a future together, something he has already envisioned multiple times. You poor thing must have never felt true love before to think that. As heartbroken as he is, Caesar is just as determined to find you and convince you of his feelings and the dangers that come with traveling all alone.

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yoimix · 1 year

Text

genshin men + sleepless nights

ft. diluc, xiao, kaveh

playlist. afterglow - taylor swift ; like real people do - hozier ; kiss goodnight - i don’t how but they found me

[ tw: nightmares, suggestive ]

✽ diluc is well-acquainted with nightmares. he often wakes up in the quiet of the night to dreadful noise inside his head, grating, punishing him for the past. but now that he instead meets your soft touch and warm breath, he finds himself calming down easier. i’ll keep you safe. he’s said that to you before, in the heat of battle. only recently did he discover you’re keeping that promise when the flames have died down. the world is cruel, but despite that, he will still love you. that is his promise to you. even through rapid, unsteady breathing, he seeks out the nook of your shoulder, pressing his forehead against your skin like you’re the magic remedy to his ailments. you shiver sometimes, mumbling that his hair tickles; it only makes him sigh in relief, and you hold yourself back from giggling maniacally at the sensation. you smooth his hair away from your neck but he only buries himself further in.

“diluc.”

“mhm.”

“now, you’re just messing with me, aren’t you?”

“why would i ever do that?”

you huff and diluc smiles, lips pressing against your neck in a flurry of soft kisses.

“diluc! that tickles,” you complain, weakly pushing his head away. a deep chuckle rumbles from him and he rises to finally meet your eyes.

“can i kiss you?” he whispers, suddenly sincere.

“now you ask? after you’ve violated my poor neck like that?”

“you didn’t complain last time.” he raises an eyebrow.

“really, diluc?” you scoff. “where’s all this unbridled confidence coming from? usually you’d blush like a newly-wed bride the moment i whisper something in your ear.”

diluc rolls his eyes, a faint glow over his cheeks under the moonlight. “that’s not true. and... and i... i’m simply enjoying myself.”

you whistle. “mondstadt’s very own winery tycoon discovers the joys of teasing his lover in the dead of night. riveting.”

diluc sighs in exasperation, throwing his hands up. “can you not? you always tease me.”

“you’re so easy to tease.” you bite down your lips. it doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, his impulse fighting to take over the control he exerts.

he caves, leaning in to press a chaste kiss against your mouth. his lips linger; one kiss, two kisses, till he has you pressed against his chest, his arms secure around your waist.

you pull away, before placing a quick kiss to his nose. none of the other kisses have the effect as this one, for his ears nearly spark with the rush of heat to his face.

“are you growing a stubble?” you bite down a teasing smile. “i don’t want my chin all itchy every time we kiss.”

he grimaces. “no. i’ll shave tomorrow. it makes me look too much like my father.”

you purse your lips. it’s the same quiet of winter as the one you met him in. he was a talented boy, and you, the bane of his existence. since then, many winters have passed, some cozy, some silly, and some lonely and grieving. the winery has dimmed (even diluc), but everything is always bright in your wide eyes, from the lush grapevines to the sunset-haired man. you’re both aware you cannot win against time. and so, just like him, you keep every postcard.

“diluc,” you call, hesitant. “it’s not a bad thing.”

“i know,” he responds curtly.

you never learned what to say. diluc never wants you to.

he holds your wrist, lifting it up to place your palm against his cheek again. it’s quiet. he breaks eye contact.

“i have regrets, (name). and they’re all because of... my ego.”

“diluc-”

when it rains, it pours.

“if only i were... if only i were a better man... if i were less cruel,” he whispers, remorse coating his tongue like ash.

you smooth your thumb over his cheek, till he sighs. diluc meets your eyes with the glow of embers, soft and a little lost, maybe.

“you’re a good man to me,” you say finally. “i think that’s a good start.”

diluc sighs again, snapping himself out of his daze. “and you’re too good to me.”

“who else will buy me sickly sweet flowers and get me the best dandelion wine in mondstadt?”

diluc rolls his eyes, taking your wrists once again to plant a kiss each against them.

“thank you, (name),” he says, a smile finally sprouting on his warm lips.

“of course, diluc,” you mumble. “you mean so much to me... anyway, shall we bake tomorrow? surely you can leave the abyss alone for the weekend.”

diluc blinks. “actually...”

your smile drops and he gulps, swallowing his words.

“yes,” he answers. “my schedule is clear tomorrow. but i’m... i’m not quite proficient with baking, my love.”

“that’s alright.” you wave your hand dismissively before going off on a tangent, on a path of words diluc’s quite familiar with. snapdragon flowers, dandelion seeds, sweet flower jam—you certainly have a wide knowledge of all of these. he’s seen you collect them for hours on end, your odd little baking experiments giving adelinde a heart attack. you’ve always been this way. after all these years, the winery thinks of you as fondly as he does.

diluc tucks your hair behind your ears, running his fingers through your hair once you’re snuggled up in bed again. you’re still mumbling about narrowing down which recipe to try tomorrow morning in a sleep-laced haze. diluc can’t get enough of it.

“you mean so much to me too,” he whispers.

✽ xiao is a warrior first and foremost, and everyone knows warriors can never sleep at night. for xiao, it’s a special case. his war is not a war people can thank him for, nor does he see an end to it. it is invisible to most, and his battle scars are the only monument to his acts of deliverance. but you... you, with your curious eyes and fickle fingers, always running your mouth about his tattoos and breaks in his schedule—is he supposed to open up so easily? is he supposed to sigh in relief at your animated explanations or get so drowsy on sunlit afternoons when you’re around? is he supposed to desperately want to hold you? perhaps he is, for his eyes always seek your figure, hands itching to drop his spear and take your hands instead. if he asks for forgiveness for all that he is, would you smile at him and pretend he is as human as you? no, he’s known you for months. you’d do something outrageously stupid—and it’d be the medicine to all his ailments.

“how is it my fault?” he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“of course it’s your fault!” you huff.

“i never prevented your... afternoon naps.”

“but you wouldn’t nap with me!” you throw your hands up, reasoning as though it’s common sense for him to know. “do you know how cold it was? i nearly shivered myself off the cliff!”

xiao feels a rush of blood to his cheeks, coughing to hide the hot discomfort.

“and now you refuse to sleep in my nice, warm bed, which i made very specifically for you. not that you care but it’s very comfortable. ahh, it’s good to be home once in a while.”

why are you advertising your bed to him? it’s not like he’s going to buy it. he doesn’t have mora anyway, nor will he ever need to carry it.

“i don’t need to sleep,” he states, re-emphasizing his point. “i am a yaksha.”

“i don’t care,” you grumble, sleeplessness clearly clawing at your brain. “you swore an oath to me.”

xiao blinks. “this was... this was not the oath. i said i’d come to you when you need me if you—”

“—call your name,” you interrupt, tapping your feet impatiently. “xiao. xiao. conqueror of demons. my dearly beloved. xiao. i need your help.”

xiao’s not sure when the terms of the contract spiraled into something like this. you are partners; a dashing young adventurer and a cynical yaksha who are already unlikely to be friends. since when have you grown so close to him? in fact, if he were to lean in...

absolutely not.

xiao straightens. he didn’t realize the physical proximity at first.

“are you... teasing me?” he nearly spits poison with that question. though, you’d savor that poison like sweet wildberries.

“is it so strange to sleep beside me?” you take a step back, chewing on your lip. some things do deter you. despite being a hardy adventurer.

it’s already strange enough for me to sleep, he wants to say.

“will it make your night easier?” he asks quietly.

you brighten visibly. the moonlight pales when you look like that.

“alright,” he answers, staring at your brisk nodding.

he sits hesitantly at the corner of your bed, looking up at you with innocuous eyes. you stand in front of him, lacking your usual movement like you’re still processing everything. for a moment, you look flustered. but it’s not like xiao can tell. on your face, everything looks sweet.

“i...i- uh...” you stutter. “i didn’t think i’d get this far.”

xiao raises an eyebrow.

“a-anyway. scoot. this is my favorite side.”

“you... humans have favorite sides?”

“well, some of us do. some of us don’t care. i happen to have one though so you’ll have to deal with it, mr yaksha.”

it’s not like he hasn’t dealt with worse. he drags his legs onto the bed and shifts awkwardly till he’s made space for you.

you jump into bed with the energy of a vishap hatchling, and the thought is so ridiculous he suppresses a smile.

at first, there is peace. then you inch closer, like slower movement would fool his trained senses. he’s warned you before. karmic debt is not a trifling matter—and your weak skin and bones cannot withstand it.

time has proved, however, that you are not as weak to him as he is to you.

“does it hurt?” you ask.

“hm?” he turns his head, caught off-guard.

“y’know...” you continue. “your fights. i’ve seen some nasty injuries. do they hurt?”

you’ve never asked him about his past. he’s numb to it now, but you never poke your head there. even if you’ve poked it nearly everywhere it shouldn’t be.

“not quite.”

not now.

perhaps baizhu has been going about the wrong way making medicine for him. or perhaps, you are an ingredient undiscovered by the medical world.

“good.” you grin, and his heart flakes on him. all this from a smile? the conqueror of demons folding like a crumpled piece of paper? but it’s you, after all. he should know better. “if i hurt you, let me know.”

xiao chokes a little, words spawning and dying just as rapidly in his throat. what can he possibly say to you?

“maybe i won’t have nightmares anymore now,” you mumble, snuggling closer to his arm. it must be uncomfortable, xiao thinks. his arm, bone and muscle, was not made to be rested upon.

but you cling so dearly.

“you’ve been having nightmares?” he asks. he never asks you about your nights. at least directly. acute observation gets him most answers and you are not a difficult person to read. so your declaration truly leaves him puzzled.

you don’t answer immediately.

“(name)?”

“yeah. they make me uncomfortable. but nothing like a little fear to keep me on my toes, right?”

xiao gets what you’re saying, but he doesn’t necessarily approve of it. he’s not the kind to poke his nose into someone else’s business, but at this proximity your fresh, earthy smell mingles so perfectly into his own. is it still someone else’s business if you breathe as one, every exhale tangling into each others’?

“i could eat them.”

you pause to blink before snickering loudly, clutching your stomach. silence follows.

“wait, you’re serious?”

“yes.”

“of course. i should’ve known. uh... i don’t think you need to do that.”

“they don’t hurt me too much.”

“so they do hurt you?”

“...”

xiao purses his lips, trying not to meet your focused gaze. unfortunately, it lands on your sweet, plump lips. he immediately jerks his head to the side.

“i already told you,” you continue, paying no heed. “no more nightmares for me now.”

“you can’t be sure of that.”

“it’s scientifically backed,” you press, voice dropping to a comforting whisper, “that you fall asleep faster, and sleep much better with a loved one.”

does he constitute a loved one? xiao parts his lips and closes them.

“look at me.”

xiao can’t. he’s all too aware of the physical proximity, all too aware of your fingers drawing circles on his arms. you will not ask, he knows. but neither will he.

and sometimes you don’t need to.

you draw nearer to land a kiss on his cheek. it’s not a demanding touch, light as feather, in fact. but xiao feels blood rush to his head like never before.

“you- i- i think that- you look cute,” you manage to say out loud, not quite what you mean. “so... um... can you please look at me?”

xiao turns his head finally, to meet an expression he has never seen before. lips pursed, eyes flitting nervously, and chest heaving slow and unsteady. he’s seen this among mortals. never in you.

and it’s strange to admit just how accustomed he’s become to mortal life.

xiao’s breath ghosts over your lips, hesitation still clawing at his throat. being a decisive fighter does not make him very decisive in other regards.

so, you do it for him. pressing your warm lips to his, you sigh just as he does, like the night is finally warm again. though his beating heart says otherwise, he feels so at peace for once that drowsiness settles on his eyelids and he draws even closer to you. relief is not a feeling he is accustomed to.

you pull away to place your head against his chest, squeezing his torso in a hug. he knows it’s a way of showing comfort. but he can’t possibly describe what he feels from that. can you do it again?

“will you come sleep here tomorrow night too?” a small smile plays on your lips when you face him.

“i suppose,” he answers.

“and the next?”

“mhm.”

“...and the next?”

xiao cannot help his smile.

“i swore an oath, did i not?”

✽ kaveh is too impatient to stay still in bed when he can’t sleep. he’d rather take advantage of his insomnia to work on the bubbles of inspiration that rise and fizz out as quickly as they come. but every time he’s lying beside you, he can’t bring himself to pry your arms away from his torso. it’d be sacrilege to wake you up, not when you look so quiet and peaceful, away from a world of dry commotions. and on nights you can’t sleep, he refuses to go to bed too. it is imperative to his sleep that you doze off beside him. he doesn’t need incessant proofs of his passion, and he doesn’t need the akademiya’s validation. all he wants is a life as soft and precious as you, like dew on padisarah in the early mornings he sleeps through. oh, all the things he would give up to have you sleeping soundly by his side this night, and the next, and the next. it aches to have you away.

“i can’t sleep, kaveh,” you mutter, annoyed.

“i know,” he responds, lips upturned. “this is the fifth time you’ve said it in the past twenty minutes.”

“you’re exaggerating,” you huff, tugging closer to his chest anyway. “i should not have stayed past six at puspa cafe.”

“ah. so whose fault is it that you can’t sleep?”

you scowl. “i thought the coffee wouldn’t have an effect on me. it wasn’t that strong.”

kaveh quietens, and for a moment, you worry he’s fallen asleep.

“shall we take a walk then? when i watch the city sleep, i want to fall asleep too.”

you pause before sitting up and following his lead, hand in weary hand. you make sure to be as quiet as mice, so as to not wake up kaveh’s sleeping roommate. usually, your boyfriend wouldn’t care. but it seems your considerate nature has taken a toll on him.

the smell of spices still wafts through the streets long after everyone has closed shop. the dogs have followed their owners home, and the strays are curled up by alleys and corners in a huddle of warmth. at least where you’re at, the two of you are the only souls treading the pavement, save for a few stragglers, cats prowling and students celebrating the end of finals. you can almost feel their relief, laughing with kaveh as you notice a young scholar holler in joy with his friends when an old lady immediately shuts them down to be quiet.

“what was that about the city sleeping?” you hum, elbowing him.

“and you really thought you were immune to caffeine?” kaveh retorts, amusement playing on his lips.

“shut up.” you lightly punch his arm, which he, of course, reacts to overdramatically. to him, that’s the cutest ‘shut up’ he’s ever heard.

a fresh breeze passes by the two of you, making him step closer, shoulders touching and fingers intertwined.

“lately,” he starts, ruby eyes lost in contemplation, “my team’s been researching the lost paradise of king deshret. they say he made a contract with the god of time to build an eternal oasis, all the wonders of the land frozen in a beautiful frame for the goddess of flowers. isn’t that lovely?”

“what’s so lovely about building a cemetery for someone you love?”

kaveh sighs. but when he opens his mouth, there is no answer. you hide a small smile as he thinks.

“well, it was to honor her passing... but you’re right. i’d rather honor the living.”

“well, king deshret also went mad. good to see you’re still sane.”

kaveh turns red. “i’m not joking! you see the beauty in all this, don’t you?”

a smile tugs your lips as you reach out to grab his face. “yes, of course. but more so in your face. and your hands. and your mouth. and your stupid little head with all its wild imaginations.”

“you tease me too much,” he huffs when you’re done planting rapid kisses to his face. his expression is something between a scowl and pout, hands comfortably over yours as they rest against his cheeks.

“do you dislike it?”

“i’m not answering that.”

your laughter is full of heart, and kaveh can’t help but join in, throwing his head back as he does.

saturday evenings are quiet at the center of the city; but the further you branch out towards the hubs, there are lively crowds waiting to greet you. your next destination is lambad’s tavern, stopping to grab a cup of water and converse with kaveh’s old classmates from the akademiya. it must be a ksharehwar thing to seemingly never sleep.

kaveh’s so-called remedy to sleeplessness ends up turning into a catch-up session, sleep tossed out of the window. the warm glow of the tavern, however, makes you miss his bed more. perhaps his trick did work, in a strange, twisted way. but still, you don’t appreciate the long way around.

it takes a while before you can finally walk out the doors of the tavern—and the night simmers down again when you find him. looks like your boyfriend has made friends with the wood, as he rests his head on one of the outdoor tables of the tavern, all by himself. you feel a sting of guilt for holding him back from his sleep. it’s not easy, working day to day on as little sleep as he does.

“kaveh,” you call.

he meets you with a dazed smile, clumsy and unsteady in the way he moves.

“did you drink when i wasn’t looking?” you ask, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

he frowns immediately at your accusation, shoulders sagging. “can’t i be this way because of you?”

“well, it’s usually your drunken stupor.”

he huffs. “you’ll never know what you do to me if you keep your so-called logic wrapped so tight around your throat.”

“why? is there something else you’d rather have wr—”

“ahem.” kaveh flushes so deep, he’d put zaytun peaches to shame with that hue. “what i mean is. you don’t know the effect you have on me. it might as well be intoxication.”

you press your knuckle to your nose, trying to hide your smile. kaveh is quick to catch on, his grin widening.

“no, it must be intoxication,” he presses, moving closer to you with eyebrows furrowed. “i even get along with alhaitham these days. can you imagine?”

you giggle. “how frightening.”

kaveh leans in, his eyes shining prettier in the moonlight. if only you knew they open to reflect you. his expression eases and a smile blossoms.

“you make me see love everywhere,” he whispers, lips hesitantly hovering over yours. “and it is wonderful to feel that way. thank you.”

“oh gosh, you’re so... you say sickliest sweet things. it’s disgusting.”

before he can retort, you tug on the strawberry blond strands, pressing your lips to his. he does not let you pull away, his arm snug around your waist. with kaveh, the butterflies never die, natural when his lips taste of honey.

“for the record,” he slurs, drunk off your kiss more than any alcohol. “i would build you more than paradise. i would start laying the bricks for heaven if you asked.”

and you’d make sure he sleeps soundly instead each night he forces himself to work. he’s too sweet for his own good. in the city of wisdom, everyone knows the cost of love without labor. but your attempts to ensure his rest is your labor.

you laugh, patting his cheek. “how about you start laying the bricks to a house of your own?”

an instant pout tugs at his swollen lips.

“oh, don’t get mad.” you cups his cheeks and pull his face to your level, pressing a feather kiss to his forehead. “i know times are hard for dreamers like you.”

“you make me sound so silly.”

“i’m sorry.” you caress your thumb over his cheek, worried you’ve overstepped in your teasing.

“no.” he smiles sheepishly. “i don’t mind being your silly boyfriend. if it makes you smile, at the very least.”

“you silly man.”

“you’re smiling.”

“is the victory satisfying?”

“sort of...” his voice drops to a cheeky whisper as he leans in close to your ear. “but the rest of the night can be... more so.”

“kaveh. we’re in public!”

“what, it’s not like it’s a secret. alhaitham and our poor neighbors are the first victims if you suddenly want to be considerate of that.”

“oh my god.”

“c’mon. kiss me. there’s no one else outside.”

“if there’s anyone who appreciates a room, it should be you.”

“mhm. yes. a bedroom, more so right now.”

you smack your hand over his mouth, unable to hold back your laughter at the flabbergasted look on his face. it slowly morphs into annoyance, and then acceptance.

“don’t be upset,” you say, placing a light kiss on his nose.

you know just the way to sedate him. kaveh should have you arrested for whatever violations you’re committing against him. there must be laws against the fevers you raise on his skin. right?

“shall we go home?” you smile with sleepy eyes.

and his heart melts. there’s nothing more he wants than a home with you.

“lead the way, my love.” he grins wide, and suddenly, the marble and the cobblestones melt away, your hand over his the only stronghold left. it is not loud enough yet to leave his mouth, but the answer to the architect’s greatest dilemma—is you.

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