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msbigredmachine · 1 month

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Power Couple: The Aftermath (Roman Reigns)

When the Tribal Chief falls, no one helps him back up better than you do. Set after the epic main event of Wrestlemania XL.

Pairing: Roman Reigns/OC

Warnings: Excess fluff and of course, smut.

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Yes, I'm still in my feelings, and there was only one pairing I could properly convey my feelings with, because this has also been their story all along. For new readers, I strongly suggest reading the first two one-shots before delving into this one. Hope you enjoy!

Banner made by me. Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs

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1,316 days.

All wiped away with three slaps of the referee’s hand to the hard canvas.

Even after Cody rolled away from him, Roman could not move. Hell, he couldn’t breathe. Not when the air had been punched out of his lungs, literally and figuratively. It was only when Dwayne pulled him out of the ring by his pants leg that his body managed to kickstart itself into some sort of motion. And even then, all he could do was turn his head to look back and watch as Cody celebrated in the ring with his wife Brandi, holding his title belt aloft for the whole world to behold as the ultimate symbol of his victory.

It should have been you and him up there. It should have been him. Again. But it wasn’t. Because the one time he got careless in battle, it cost him everything. Throwing years of hard work down the drain.

And it made him sick to his stomach.

The sound of ‘Kingdom’ blaring through the Lincoln Financial Field Stadium was torture to the former champion’s ears. His legs felt like lead as he dragged his battered body up the ramp, ignoring Dwayne’s baseless, performative complaints about nothing, as he put distance to the tableau of triumph of his opponent. The weight of this defeat was heavy, suffocating even, and he was desperate to get the fuck out of there, to get out of Philadelphia, out of Pennsylvania and all its environs. As he reached the top of the vast WrestleMania stage, pain surged through his abdomen, forcing him to recoil into himself and double over in pain.

His Wise Man noticed his plight and paused to observe his charge. "My Tribal Chief, are you alright? Do you need-"

Roman shook his head. "I'm fine,” he snapped, willing himself to keep walking until he made it past the curtain. He leaned against the wall and bent over, resting his hands on his knees.

“What can I do, my Tribal Chief?” Paul implored.

“Just…get my wife on the bus and make sure everything’s ready to go. I’ll be there soon."

“Right away my Tribal Chief,” Paul replied eagerly, scurrying off to do as he was told.

It was a good long minute before Roman managed to pull himself back upright, staggering towards his locker room. Walking was so hard, his body hurt so much, but none of it hurt as much as the gut punch of failure. Much worse than any of the bumps he took was the shame, the disappointment engulfing him; so much so that he couldn’t bear to look anyone else in the eye right now.

Because he had failed everyone who cared about him.

He had failed you.

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All good things come to an end. That’s how the saying goes, right? The interesting part of that was that on the surface, it was a throwaway little trope, harmless and benign, until something that meant a great deal to you got taken away in the blink of an eye, or in this case, a three-count. The moment the bell signaled the pinfall that confirmed your husband's time as the Undisputed WWE Universal Champion had come to an end, you knew he would never be the same again.

It wasn't unlike Roman to be a little on edge weeks before a big premium live event. And given the nature of the two main event matches he was locked in for the fortieth annual WrestleMania, you expected he would be grouchy. But this time around seemed different, and not in a good way. He’d been surly towards everybody, including you. He disappeared for hours working out obsessively. He’d even thrown out a female member of the press who had dared to boo him at the press conference on Saturday night. Now, despite the final match of the weekend concluding nearly an hour ago, Roman was yet to return to his tour bus. That only meant one thing; he was not taking this defeat well, and it was up to you to lift him up, like you always did.

When you found the door boasting your husband's name, Heyman was outside, pacing back and forth. The Undisputed title, which you had grown accustomed to seeing on his shoulders on behalf of his Tribal Chief, was missing; a stark, prickly reminder of the outcome of tonight’s proceedings.

"That bad, huh?" you asked, reading the Wise Man’s expression in a second. In fact, he looked on the verge of tears, his shoulders sagging with despair. The weekend had taken an emotional toll on him, too.

"He won’t come out," he informed you, his usually confident voice shaky and helpless. “He won’t let anyone in and he won’t speak to anyone…”

You raised your index finger to cut him off. "Correction, he won’t speak to anyone that’s not me," you stated, shooting him a warm smile, one among countless others you had shared with him since burying the hatchet after years of friction between you. "Go be with your family, Paul. I’ll handle my husband.”

“He’s my family, too,” he declared softly, the conviction in what you used to call his beady eyes, palpable and heartbreaking, “Both of you are.”

Touched and at a loss for words, you could only look on as he turned around slowly and made the lonely walk down the hallway. Turning back to the locker room door, you sucked a breath between your teeth and blew it out, mentally preparing to confront this task head-on.

You knocked timidly and stuck your head inside. If Roman was in as foul a mood as Paul let on, even you did not want to be there. It had taken a few unfortunate incidents over the years for you to learn that even a kiss from his wife wasn't enough when he got too stressed. It never stopped you from trying, though. Kissing was one of your favorite things to do with him after all.

"Knock, knock," you called out softly, listening for signs of movement as you stepped inside and closed the door. The room that was bustling just a few hours ago was now stripped bare and cloaked in dead quiet. It was an eerie contrast to the majestic, sweeping grandiosity that encompassed his entrance to the ring tonight. “Babe?”

Venturing further inside the room, you found him on the couch, his strong, broad back to you, his shoulders slumped dejectedly. An open bottle of Jack Daniels sat on the coffee table in front of him. His ula fala was draped over the headrest, where his title belt would surely have been.

This was the reality no one warned you about after a monumental loss. It plunged you into a cold, dark abyss, wrought with biting silence and dreary loneliness now that the show was over and the lights were no longer bright. The what ifs, buts and maybes crooning in your ear like a morbid symphony. It was an experience all too familiar to you unfortunately, and recently, too; you and your husband had traveled down this terrible road following the tragic miscarriage of your son in the summer of 2022.

Stepping in front of him, you wiggled into his personal space and made yourself at home on his lap. Gently wrapping your arms around him, you sighed with relief when he instantly melted into you and his huge arms enveloped your waist, holding on to you like his life depended on it.

“My baby,” you cooed soothingly, the sound of your lips meeting the side of his head piercing through the emptiness of the locker room. “My love.”

The audible hitch of his breath at your soft words was expected. In the course of your lifetime, those two little phrases had garnered a poignant significance. As words of comfort and solace first uttered by your mother when you were a child, you murmured those words regularly to Roman between sweet, playful kisses when he was courting you, basking in the bliss of newfound love, and again as part of your wedding vows as you became man and wife. They were the first words you whispered to Laleia the first time she was placed in your arms. They were the words that you had cried yourself to sleep with as you mourned the baby boy you had lost. You and Roman had seen each other at your absolute best and worst, and now, in the isolation of this room, with just the two of you and nobody else, this was another bad moment you had to overcome.

“On Matt’s birthday, too,” Roman finally spoke, wiping at his nose with a sniffle. “Fuck, man.”

“I know,” you replied, running your hand comfortingly up and down his upper arm. As he met your gaze at last, you saw that his eyes were bloodshot. Seeing him like this broke your heart afresh. You held him as close as possible, willing all his pain and his hurt into your soul, wanting nothing more than to take it all away.

"I fucked up," he breathed, his voice raw and choked with misery, "I fucked up out there, babe...I let Dwayne down...I let y'all down. I lost the title and I'm sorry."

"Sorry? For what? Over thirteen hundred days as champion?" you countered, "Nine WrestleMania main events? Billions of dollars in revenue? A roof over your child's head and three square meals a day? One loss will never wipe any of that away, don't ever get it twisted."

He exhaled tiredly as he hugged you tighter, resting his head on your shoulder. "I really wish I felt that way right now," he mumbled.

"It'll take some time, but you will," you asserted, running his fingers through his loose hair before tugging it lightly, making him look at you again. "Roman, you changed the industry, just like you said you would when we started this. No one will ever, ever forget what you've done these past four years. Be proud of all of it. You've been through so much, you sacrificed too much to not be proud."

Roman nodded in understanding. He just wished he didn't feel so down. "Baby, I...I want you to know how sorry I am. I know how much you wanted this. And I've been such a dick to you lately-"

You kissed your teeth and waved his apology away. "Nah. That don't matter no more. And I don't care that you didn't win. All I care about is you being safe when you're out there. Being healthy for our family and our daughter, who will be very happy to have her Daddy home, by the way. So we took an L. Okay, we'll only come back stronger. We had one bad night. Guess what? I plan on giving you a better morning, if you know what I mean." You rounded off your words with a wink, your heart blooming when he chuckled in response. "See, there's that smile I love so much. Keep your head up, baby. You did so good tonight. I couldn't be more proud of you."

Roman leaned into you, his forehead pressed to yours, breathing you in and filling his head with your scent. It was like breathing fresh air. “I love you, Y/N. I love you with all of my heart. I don’t deserve you, I never have.”

The tears you'd been fighting all night resurfaced, but you blinked them away as you captured his lips with yours, your hand sliding over the back of his neck. He clung to you, a different emotion quickly overtaking him as he returned your kiss with a bit of aggression, his tongue whipping hungrily against yours, savoring your mouth as though he was tasting it for the very first time. You surrendered to his every whim, your other hand raking through his hair then caressing gently down to his chest, resting your palm over the spot where his heart pumped for you. You could feel how much he needed this moment of intimacy, and you had no qualms giving him anything he asked for.

With one quick tug of your legs, Roman had you straddling him on the couch, bringing you chest to chest with your lush backside resting on his growing bulge. He paused for a moment to take a deep breath, then sealed your mouths again, his tongue invading, probing, a moan rumbling in his chest when you matched his energy, the emotions take over this loving embrace. He could never get enough of you, of the passion that overwhelmed him by your mere presence, immersing him in a love and gratitude he would always feel for you no matter what state of mind he was in.

Eventually, you pulled away from each other, breathless, panting, lips glistening with each other’s saliva. His heart raced at the familiar gleam in your darkened eyes. You weren’t done with him, not just yet, and this was confirmed as you slowly slid off him and sank to your knees between his spread thighs, pushing the front of his shirt up to expose his newly honed six-pack abs.

“Do you know how fucking hot you looked tonight, Daddy?” you purred to him, leaning in to run your tongue over the ridges of muscle on his taut belly. “Last night? All week? Do you have any idea of all the nasty shit I’m gonna do to you on the bus?”

Roman’s dick jumped in his joggers as his imagination ran wild. He squirmed in his seat, his bottom lip slipping between his teeth as your tongue lapped at his belly, your mouth warm on his skin, all while you rubbed the fullness of his bulge straining eagerly against your touch. “Baby girl…” he choked out, as your fingers peeled the waistband of his pants, unveiling his big, beautiful brown dick.

“Hmm, commando. I like it,” you commented with a smirk, curling your fist around his turgid length.

“Babe, wait…ain’t Paul outside?”

“I sent him home. Plus, won't be the first time he's seen me suck you off.” Your small hand massaged his blunt, plum-shaped head as you licked a trail along the underside of his dick, enjoying the gasps of pleasure that he made. Licking up the pre-cum that had gathered at the tip, your mouth opened wider to take him in. He stared you down with an intense look in his dark irises, which soon fluttered shut as your lips wrapped tight around his flesh, his stomach tensing as he felt himself slide deeper inside. “Awww, fuuuck,” he moaned.

Pulling back for a second, you held his lust-filled stare and stroked his dick a little harder, giggling when it twitched in your grip. A defiant look clouded your eyes as you licked at his tip before pushing him back into your mouth. It was enough for him to nut by just watching you, the visual of your lips sliding slowly up and down his length, that sexy mouth of yours making sweet love to his dick. It felt so good that he sank further into the plush leather of the couch, his head rolling back lazily against the headrest, his toes curling inside his brand new Air Reigns sneakers. All the pain and punishment his body had endured tonight melted away and was replaced with much more pleasurable sensations.

“I love the way you suck my dick, wifey,” he praised you, forcing himself to observe you through his barely open eyelids. “Mmm, that slutty little mouth is warm as fuck…You so sexy, baby, keep lookin’ up at me like that...”

His raspy growls had you glancing back up at him, batting your pretty eyelashes as you sucked him off. Wetness pooled between your thighs at his famished expression. Completely aroused, you picked up the pace as your hands and your mouth worked in tandem, sucking and stroking his dick, pleasuring him from tip to base. His breathing became heavier as he throbbed against your tongue, his hands finding the back of your head as he got lost in the paradise of your warm, wet mouth.

“Damn, baby. I bet that pussy leakin’ for me right now. You gettin’ wet sucking Daddy off, beautiful?” he taunted, his tongue swishing over his bottom lip at the same time your tongue swirled around the base of his shaft. The little moan that escaped your throat told him he was right. Of course he was; he knew his wife better than anybody else. “Good girl. Keep goin', I want that pussy extra wet. I’ma lick all that shit up when we get on the bus.”

With another soft moan, you crawled closer to his body and bore down on him, bobbing your head up and down that long, fat cock. Scooping your hair up into his large fist for leverage, Roman rocked his hips upwards from his seated position, thrusting in and out of your mouth. You relaxed your throat to take him deeper, moaning around his dick and letting him know how much you were enjoying him fucking your face. You rolled his balls in your hand, caressing the heavy, tightened sac to send him over the edge. It was working, as he began thrusting faster, his husky groans of pleasure amplifying as he neared his release.

“Unnnhh, baby, here it comes…Fuck, open your mouth,” he gasped, not waiting for you to do so as he yanked you by your hair to free himself from your intoxicating mouth. You quickly opened wide as he grabbed his cock and jerked it desperately against your tongue. He caught sight of the glazed-over quality of your gaze, and he knew that your panties were completely ruined, your pussy dripping with your need for him. He planned to take care of that very soon.

It was a show more spectacular than Mania, the sight of his gorgeous face contorted with pleasure, his head thrown back, eyes rolled to the heavens as his orgasm washed over his big body. Your moans harmonized together with each spasm of his cum down your throat, making you swallow every drop he unleashed. His grip on your hair was tight and almost painful, but you were turned on anyway, aroused by the knowledge that no one brought him to this state of paramount pleasure like you did. Licking your lips, you scooped him back into your mouth to clean him up, released him with a soft pop when you finished, and tucked him back inside the confines of his joggers. You giggled as he stared dazedly at the ceiling, licking his lips to catch his breath, his big frame slack and helpless as he recovered from the intense orgasm.

"Goddamn, baby...Shit," he groaned.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you stood up and sat back on his lap, welcoming the gentle press of his mouth to yours in a sweet, grateful kiss. “You feel better, Daddy?” you asked.

"Much better. I needed that so much. Thanks, baby," he smiled up at you, his stomach doing flips as you smiled back. He truly was the luckiest man in the world.

“Mm-hmm. Luckily, there’s more where that came from,” you assured him with another kiss before getting to your feet and pulling him up to his. “Come on, Daddy. Let's go home. We got a toddler to take care of. We'll figure out all the other stuff when it's time."

He nodded in agreement and squeezed your hand. “Okay, baby. Home it is.”

A new chapter in your story had been opened tonight, and the path ahead seemed uncertain and even scary. But you both took pride in the fact that as long as you kept writing it together, your love story was going to remain as beautiful as it already was.

But make no mistake about it; Roman Reigns was going to rule the wrestling world again. That was one story that was never going to end.

THE END

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Thoughts? How sappy was this😢Was quite cathartic for me, loved writing it.

Thank you all so much for reading and commenting!

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#roman reigns #wwe #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns fanfic #the bloodline #wrestlemania #wrestlemania 40 #power couple #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black oc #roman reigns x black reader

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ghcstao3 · 6 months

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marine biologist au :)

Soap almost misses the call from Price one unsuspecting three AM, but he wakes up in the nick of time.

He barely has his eyes open to press answer, squinting into darkness as he mumbles out some greeting before waiting to learn why in the world Price is calling him at this time.

“They’ve finally hatched,” Price tells him. And before the cogs in Soap’s head can start turning, Price clarifies, “The turtles, Soap. They’re finally out. Get your arse out here.”

It’s such an announcement that kicks Soap’s brain into a hard reboot, and suddenly he’s flying out of bed and running for his car keys, barely caring that he’s still in his pyjamas as he speeds down the road at this godawful hour. He doesn’t remember when Price or he had hung up, just knows he needs to get to the beach, and now.

The team had had their eyes on a particular bale of sea turtles since they’d laid their eggs, and had waited for so long for the hatching with continuous efforts to make sure all would go perfectly undisturbed. He couldn’t afford to miss this.

And it seems, arriving to the spot, that other scientists had a similar idea. That, or Price had called them, too.

Soap finds the man with just a bit of difficulty between the silhouettes of the small group standing a ways from little black specks crawling through the sand. He claps Price on the shoulder, whispering his excitement as his eyes adjust to the bright moonlight.

“Incredible,” Soap murmurs. He hasn’t felt wonder like this in ages, even if this isn’t the first time he’s witnessed such an event.

There’s just something so special about it.

“I’ll say,” Price whispers back, that same wistfulness.

Except… it’s not Price. Still tall and wide shoulders and rough voice, but… decidedly not Price.

Soap nearly jumps back, recoiling when he realizes he’s been hanging off a stranger’s shoulder in lieu of an old colleague’s. The stranger seems to realize the mistake without ever taking his eyes off the baby turtles, laughing quietly under his breath.

“I’m so sorry,” Soap says. “I thought—“

“Thought I was someone else?” The stranger replies, not unkindly. He angles his head just enough for Soap to catch the outline of his face in the silver glow of moonlight. “I think I can forgive you. We’re all half-asleep, anyway.”

Soap can feel a blush raging across his face, thankful for the cover of night to hide its tint. Even so, he ducks his head as the stranger goes back to watching the hatchlings. Soap takes the opportunity to do the same, though putting some distance between himself and the man, this time.

Eventually, though, their shared silence feels like too much with the hushed chattering of others surrounding them. Soap taps the man lightly on the shoulder and says, “My name’s John.”

“Simon,” Soap is told.

The quiet feels more comfortable, after that. And as time goes on and more and turtles make it out to sea, the other voices seem to die down as well.

It’s not until everyone is certain all of the hatchlings have made it that the group of scientists begin talking again, still quiet, but now above a whisper. Simon finally fully turns to face Soap, who thinks he may be experiencing his second bought of wonder that night, seeing Simon’s face in the dim light.

“It was nice meeting you.” Soap smiles softly up at Simon. “Do you think we’ll see each other again?”

Simon nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. Once glance tells Soap that he’d been rudely awakened as well, and somehow he finds comfort in it.

“I’m sure we will,” Simon says. “Especially since Price is in both our circles. You should probably go find him, by the way. Since—“

Soap groans, burying his face in his hands. “Please don’t remind me. I’m sorry again.”

Soap peeks through his fingers just as Simon grins at him, something almost bashful. “Don’t be. I liked your company. Have a good night, Johnny.”

Johnny.

Soap’s ears burn as Simon walks away. He sort of wishes a crater would open up in the sand and swallow him whole.

He should go find Price.

But… in a moment. Soap can reminisce on his brief encounter with Simon for just a few seconds longer.

#chants. science boyfriends! science boyfriends!#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghost x soap #ghoap #ghostsoap #alternate universe #writing

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project-sekai-facts · 2 months

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Hey so I noticed that in the most recent EN event there's almost a secondary focus on Nene and her reactions to Tsukasa, arguably more than Rui, who is the driving factor for the overarching story here, setting up her next event, in a way. I was wondering if there are many more times where a character gets a heavy focus in another's focus event to set up their immediate next event (only other example I can think of is Kohane's 2nd focus and An)

Hopefully this makes sense and it isn't completely dumb

From memory:

There’s like a post-credit of sorts (that’s what it feels like even if it technically isn’t) at the end of Although Wavering You Continue Moving Forwards (honami1) where Iori is introduced and shows interest in recruiting Shiho, which feeds into Resounding Twilight Parade and Resonate with You. She’s not really in focus for the rest of the event all that much, this is just a really random scene at the end

At the end of Canary (nene4), there’s a scene where Rui and Emu talk about Tsukasa and Nene’s performing and Rui thinks to himself about some sort of plan, leading to our happy ending. Admittedly that wasn’t a Rui event, but he did get a whole chapter to himself lol and also Emu was in the scene from Canary prominently

Ena notices that something is up with Mizuki in Secret Distance, which becomes the focus in the Ena-centric Exciting Picnic mixed event not long afterwards

Minori’s feelings about switching course are a background plot in Retie Friendship, with her deciding to switch course at the end of the event. Her feelings about the switch are the focus of Step by Step

I think this is what you were referring to in the ask but An has a moment in Awakening Beat where she reacts to Kohane’s improvement, which becomes important in Bout for Beside You

Mafuyu was in heavy focus in the three niigo events prior to Saying Goodbye to my Masked Self as the game built up to her running away

apologies if there are any mistakes, i haven't read any of these events in a long time. also i'm writing this when i'm half asleep.

#asks #i am also very very behind on events since 3rd anniversary so i probably missed something from one of those

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ddollipop · 2 years

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YOU BRING THE DEMON OUTTA ME. . . ! — ( ARATAKI ITTO. )

#. synopsis! — itto mistakes the reader for a prostitute but gets her into bed anyhow because he's just that good. (alternatively: itto is big, dumb, and full of cum) .

#. contains! — explicitly nsfw content , doggystyle sex , cum eating/cum swallowing , missionary position , cumming on face/stomach , blowjob , oral sex , cunnilingus , soft + sweet , himbo itto , slightly experienced reader .

#. word count! — 4.0k .

Itto isn’t exactly a master of self control. He’s painfully impulsive, much to the dismay of his gang (especially poor Shinobu who’s always left to clean up his messes,) and he lacks a lot of things. . . Like tact and subtlety. And that’s glaringly on display tonight as he approaches you from across the beach, chest comically puffed out. If he weren’t so attractive, you likely would have had a hard time taking him seriously the moment he switched his weight from one muscular leg to the other, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear.

“How much?” He asks, attempting to sound sauve, but failing to recognize that his voice is all but quivering under the weight of his own nerves.

You stifle a laugh. He doesn’t need to explain, —you know what he’s truly asking for, but you’re going to have to regret informing him that he’s got the wrong person for the job he’s looking to have done tonight. Though you must admit, his inability to be discreet is quite cute.

“One thousand five hundred Mora,” you answer.

As expected, a look of shock crosses his face; eyes widening as if he’d just seen a ghost somewhere off in the distance behind you. You manage to bite back an amused smile.

“O-Only one thousand five hundred?” He parrots, “—for the whole night?”

He’s making it unbelievably difficult to hold yourself together and keep from bursting into laughter.

“For the whole night,” you nod in confirmation. “The price never changes.”

Itto’s relieved to hear that for a moment. It’s one thing to gather funds from his gang members as a way to throw parties or host fun events, but to snatch money away from them to pay for a night of trick turning. . . That’s less acceptable, and even he (in all his social ineptness) knows that. This was an unexpected expense, though. Normally, Itto is okay with taking care of his more personal needs all by himself; no help necessary. His hand does the job fine, if he does say so himself. But tonight, it’s just not cutting it. He’s tried: but masturbation isn’t working well enough, and he’s craving the touch of a sweet young woman. Specifically you.

Truth be told, he’s been eyeing you down like fresh prey up for the taking since he first spotted you chatting it up with a few other women just before sundown. You suspect that’s why he assumed you were selling a bit more than the sweet drinks on your wheel adorned cart, because you often make conversation with the working women of the area. Though your friends were undoubtedly lovely, there was something Itto found to be magnetizing about you in particular. He hasn’t been very good at hiding it either, much to the dismay of Shinobu, who really doesn’t want to have to bail him out of jail tonight if he shoots his shot and you find yourself at odds with it. He definitely knows how to take no for an answer, but Itto sucks at reading social cues, and this is a particularly precarious situation. . .

Thankfully, you’re more amused (and maybe a bit endeared) by him than anything else.

“I should have,” he pauses, stuffing his large hands into the pockets of his baggy pants, “enough. . .”

Itto pulls out a handful of golden coins and a few wrappers, presumably from some sort of candy, and places them in the open palm of your hand. It’s probably a little less than what it should be, but you don’t have the heart to tell him that. Instead, you stuff the coins into your collection jar and make a mental note to remove the wrappers later on.

“Here you go,” you say, handing him a bottle of dango milk.

He takes it, and though the size is quite big, it looks like a child’s toy in his large hand. There’s something sweet about the cute, bow adorned bottle being held against the flat of his palm, but you say nothing of it.

“Uh. . .” he says, gaze flickering between your pretty face and the drink in his hand, “thank you?”

You mimic his earlier movements, leaning around the cart to whisper in his ear.

“I’m not selling what you’re looking for,” you tell him, a snicker itching on the tip of your tongue.

Though your words aren’t really what he was hoping to hear from you, the way your warm breath ghosts against the shell of his ear sends a pulse straight to his cock. He can feel another hard-on coming, shifting his weight uncomfortably again. The friction sends another jolt to his groin, and he immediately regrets having moved at all.

“H-Huh?” He questions, a little squeak catching the end of it.

You raise a hand in front of his face, snatching the attention of his gaze before pointing down to the sign plastered on the front of your cart.

“I sell dango milk.”

Itto looks between the sign, your face, and the drink in his hand multiple times over and in that exact order. A blush creeps onto his cheeks, and you can hear him swallow roughly. He’s not sure what to do or say now.

“Still. . .” you drag the word out a bit, pausing just to see if he squirms a little (and he does.)

“It’s almost closing time anyway. So maybe if you ask nicely, I might be able to help you with your. . . Other needs.”

Come on, who can blame you? Itto might have a bad reputation around these parts, but isn’t that just part of the fun? Part of the thrill? It’s just in human nature to be a little self-destructive every once in a while. Not that this man really seems to be all that bad in the first place. You’re definitely beginning to chalk those rumors up to just that, because (from what you’ve seen thus far) Itto just appears to be a little misunderstood.

Sure, he’s been painfully obvious about wanting to fuck your brains out, —but isn’t that also part of the fun sometimes?

From what you’ve gathered, Itto is mostly harmless. You think mostly because you haven’t quite gotten him into bed yet, and for all you know, he’s a biter or something. . . Not that you’d mind that too much. In fact, you have a sneaking suspicion you might like it.

He’s all but lost in a daze as you ask a familiar face to close up for you and take the cart elsewhere. It’s an easy matter to settle, and you feel secure in the wake of it. Secure enough to go off and get a small room on the first floor of an otherwise unoccupied motel. Its decor is definitely based on Mondstadt, and the room itself seems to follow the same style, which you can only assume is the reason they don’t get as much business as they could. After all, this is Inazuma, and it would likely serve their business much better to decorate accordingly.

You quickly push that to the back of your mind. It’s unimportant now that Itto is standing just behind you, lips pursed into a tight, thin line. Though you don’t know him very well, you suspect that it’s unusual for him to be this quiet for so long, and you shimmy the jacket off your body and toss it onto the edge of the bed before turning to him completely and seeking to calm the storm inside him.

“There’s no need to be so tense,” you assure him, reaching out to smooth your palms over the expanse of his shoulders.

He tenses a little further under your touch, but relaxes just as quickly when he realizes just how gentle you’re being with him. For now, he likes that. It gets tiring always being seen as some sort of evil villain hellbent on wreaking havoc everywhere you go, and for whatever it’s worth, Itto likes to be treated with kid gloves every now and again.

“I don’t bite,” you continue on, pushing yourself up onto the tips of your toes to whisper properly in his ear. “Unless you tell me to.”

Fuck does he want you to. He’s growing restless, and though anxiety still thrums through every feeble vein in his muscular body, he needs you. It’s impossible to ignore the ache that continues to grow in his groin, and it’s making his mind go foggy.

He’s thankful when you take charge and match your hand to the curve of his neck, pulling him down a bit to comfortably capture his lips in a shaky kiss. It takes a moment for Itto react, but when he does, it nearly sweeps you off your feet. He’s out of sync with your movements, but you pause for a second to match him instead as his large hand travels to the small of your back, offering you a steadying force. His lips taste faintly of sweet dango milk, —the one he’s taken no more than a few sips of since you handed it to him originally, and you haven’t a clue where it is now.

Not that it matters.

You allow your hands to explore his body, skin burning against the pads of your fingertips. His breath hitches just a little when your nails trail along his abdomen, feeling every dip and divot to be found there. Itto groans into your mouth the moment your hand reaches the outline of his cock, attempting to gauge the length and girth. Even clothed you can tell he’s packing. It’s definitely nothing to sneeze at, and you worry for a moment if you’ll be able to take him now that you’ve gotten this far.

He breaks away from the sloppy kisses a little breathless now, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Can you please just. . .” he trails off, stepping back a few inches to rest his weary body against the motel wall.

You oblige. Even if you can’t force him down your throat until he can feel every muscle contract, you doubt he’s going to care too much. At this point, he seems like he’d take just about anything; mouth, hand, or otherwise. It also stands to reason that Itto is a pretty sweet guy just looking to get himself off, and you don’t have any qualms about being the ones to help him with that.

When his pants drop down to pool at his ankles in a rippling mess of fabric, you’re left staring at a big, fat cock with a blazingly red tip. Pre-cum has alreeady gathered in the long, deep slit, seeping out in little beads of transparent off-white. The veins of his member are prominent, protruding especially along the bottom and begging to be suckled at. What feels like mere seconds of silent admiration to you feels like eons to the aching man above you, and you get the hint when he places one of his hands along the crown of your head and you look up at him with semi-doed eyes, only to find that Itto has desperation written all over his face.

After offering a few kitten-licks to the reddened tip and feeling his fingers curl into the strands of your hair ever so gently, you tilt his cock up and give him a few loose-gripped pumps as you run your tongue along those veins. They were practically crying out for attention, and you are more than willing to give them exactly what they deserve. Itto sighs above you, head resting against the wall as his eyelids come together in bliss. You know so little about him, and yet it’s as if you know all the ways to get him off and push him over the edge.

Gathering saliva into your mouth, you spit onto his length and spread it down, lubricating him to the best of your ability. It’s a lot of area to cover, and you’re no magician when it comes to saliva production.

You take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks out and ignoring the dull ache that’s already begun setting into your jaw. He tastes salty and bitter, but it’s nothing unpleasant, and whatever your mouth can’t manage to reach, you’re taking care of with your hands. Itto is already a mess, broken moans falling from starved lips. This is all he’d been thinking about since he saw you on the beach, but to think he’d actually have it, —have you here on your knees before him, sucking him off and catering to his every whim. . . Ah.

He can’t imagine what he’s done to deserve you. He even thinks to himself that all those nights he spent locked up were simply stepping stones to this moment; and if this is Celestia’s way of apologizing to him, then consider every horrid run-in with Kujo Sara atoned for.

It doesn’t take much to send him over the edge. Having been hard from the start, the initial process was kickstarted, which made your job that much easier. Itto can’t really find the words to warn you when he’s about to shoot a load straight down your throat, but you pick up on the signs easily enough for that to be the warning in itself. You pull off just before he spurts cum down your jugular, taking your hand away to let him replace it with his own. Itto takes his own cock into his hands, grip tight as hell. Your wet tongue slides out of your mouth, ready for the deposit of seed.

His shaky hands aren’t the best for aiming, and more of it ends up on your cheek than it does in your mouth, but you scrape your fingers through the semen and lick it off easily enough. He might as well be ready to bust again the moment you swallow his seed down.

Now, it appears that you’ve unlocked something dangerously exciting. That inner beast inside Itto that you suspected was there is beginning to bear its fangs, and you’re more than ready to be a willing victim to its every wish and whim. The heat between your legs is tingling with desire, and though you’ve yet to touch yourself, you’re pretty certain all that mouth-work on Itto’s dick left you dripping.

“Lemme say a proper thank you,” he says, slurring his words a little as if just cumming on your tongue alone has already gotten him intoxicated.

Like the gentleman you largely expect he is, Itto helps you to your feet and helps you take your clothes off, although that last part was likely just as much for him as it was for you. His gaze rakes your body over, all but leaves him quivering with anticipation to touch, tease, and taste. He wastes no time in positioning you on the bed, being sure to spread your legs open before backing off to snatch the rest of his clothes from his body. There’s a mess of random fabrics and jewelry on the motel floor; but it is what it is for now, and the cleanup will have to wait until all of this ends.

Or until morning, if you decide it’d be okay to sleep next to Itto for the night.

As expected, the motel bed is pretty cheap and it creaks with even the slightest bit of movement. That might have irritated you under any other circumstances, but it feels so far away as your hands travel over your body, one stopping to fiddle with your perked up nipple, and the other teasing at your clit as you watch Itto undress himself completely.

He practically shoos your hand away when he makes his way over to the bed, itching to drink you in. His black, pointed nails dig into either of your thighs as he situates himself between them, eyeing the way light glimmers off your glistening folds. Your hands are in his hair, curving around the horns that protrude from his scalp as you take fistfuls in between your fingers, pulling just hard enough to make him hum, before his mouth has even attached itself to your clit. You’re a little embarrassed by the gasp that escapes you the moment he lets a drooling line of spit trickle from his mouth to your slit. It’s so hot that your insides clench inadvertently, and he loves the little twitch that’s visible from the outside.

A soft whine passes your lips as the flat of Itto’s tongue slides against you, splitting you open only to be swallowed in turn by your plush, burning lips. He laps all around, tongue darting inside and pulling up to prod at your swollen clit. A part of you wonders if you’ve ever felt this sensitive before, —or maybe it’s just that he’s so focused on giving you pleasure instead of rushing through the motions to get inside you that you’re able to get lost in every deliberate flick of his tongue.

“T-That’s so good,” you stammer, rolling your hips off the bed just a bit in hopes of matching the rhythm of his tongue.

In return, Itto presses you further into the mattress, splitting your thighs apart even more. His nails carve into your skin, but the pain feels more like pleasure now that you’re drowning in his presence. Whatever he’s doing, it’s working like a fucking charm. He’s got you choking on moans, writhing as best you can now with him pinning your legs down like this.

Itto thinks you taste like paradise, —like pure bliss in human form. You’re everything he’d been craving since dawn and more.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper, managing to get the words out (although they were so rushed and airy that he hardly understood you.)

He responds by removing the hand from your right thigh, rubbing at your clit fast and hard with the pad of his middle finger as his tongue continues to lap at the lower half of your heat. You throw your head back, muscles clenching in unusion just to release the tension all at once. Itto eats you through the high, swilling your pussy out.

Exemplifying those gentlemanly qualities of his, he waits for your breathing to catch up with you before he makes any other sudden moves. He was already hard again halfway through the meal he’d made of you. You’re glistening more now with a mixture of his spit and your own arousal, and he has to keep himself from pushing his tongue back in for another round.

“C’mere,” he says eventually, guiding your lips to his own.

His lips taste more of you now than they do of dango milk. . .

He positions you so smoothly that it hardly registers what exactly he’s doing. On your knees, elbows keeping your tits from pressing to the bedsheets, ass hiked into the air, giving Itto ample access to your core. As he spits into the palm of his own hand, lathering himself up and guiding the tip of his cock to you, he smooths his free hand down the length of your spine. Tension you didn’t realize you were holding releases with his touch.

Itto is surprisingly gentle, pausing to let you adjust to his size more than once. Though his body is crying out for fast, rough movements, he knows that’ll have to wait a while longer if he’s to keep you at the forefront of his mind. This will be that much better if he knows you’re enjoying it just as much as he is, so he waits, and it’s no sweat off his back to do so.

He sighs in relief when he bottoms out inside you, your plush walls suckling on him like the open seas lapping at the shore. His balls are pressed against your swollen clit from this angle, and he smooths that hand back up your spine: slowly, deliberately, sweetly. Even when he moves for the first time, it’s nothing if not considerate and attentive to your every micro-movement.

Though his body is still begging him to fuck you silly and leave you sobbing into the sheets, he doesn’t know that he has the energy to keep that kind of tempo going for long. He goes faster, harder, nails digging into the flesh of your ass instead of your thighs now, —but he’s sure to keep you in mind all the while. Words are hard to form when someone as big as him is buried in your snatch, but noises of pleasure resonate from your drool-covered lips and form a chaotic melody when they intertwine with the creaking bed and Itto’s frequent groans and grunts.

He loves the way your walls seem to pulsate around him, and Itto thinks to himself that if it were a more practical endeavor, he might just stay here just like this with you forever.

It doesn’t take much for your upper body to collapse onto the bed, unable to keep steady any longer. Your fingers curl around the sheets when he ups his pace again, slamming into you quite a bit harder than before, his fingernails forming indents in the skin of your ass.

Leaning down, Itto peppers kisses along the plane of your shoulders, slowing himself for just a moment to grind his hips against you. Tingles of immense pleasure ripple from your well-fucked pussy to the tippy-top of your shivering, naked spine.

“Please,” you manage, finally finding the clarity to form words from the mess of haze and fog over your brain, “fucking please.”

“Turn over,” Itto returns, and although his wording could have easily been mistaken for a demand, his tone comes across as more of a desperate beg than anything else.

“I wanna see your eyes roll back when you cum.”

It’s not that this view was unenjoyable. Much to the contrary, Itto had a damn good time watching the fat of your ass jiggle and ripple with every inward thrust, —and he liked watching your muscles move under your skin. But if he may make just one more request for the night before he slips out through the door half-naked, he just really wants to see your face when you cum all over his cock.

You do as asked, insides aching from the emptiness when you move away from him to reposition yourself. Thankfully, he seems to be on the same page and as soon as the opportunity arises, he’s speared himself into you once more. His thrusts are deeper now, feeling like they’re touching every inch of you from the inside out. From this angle, he watches as you bite down on your own arm to muffle your moans, and you admire the markings on his body through half-lidded eyes heavy with pleasure.

“I-I’m gonna—”

Your words are cut off by a particularly delicious thrust, Itto slamming directly into the sweetest spot he could possibly hit. You’re left panting and reeling from the suddenness, an orgasm tingling so close just under the surface of your skin.

No more than a minute later, you’re sputtering something that sounds like fuck again and again as your eyes roll back (just the way Itto wanted.) You’re practically seeing stars along your vision, chest heaving and mind fogging over again as he pulls himself out and jerks himself off until he releases all over your lower stomach.

It’s warm and sticky, and now the room smells of sweat and sex, but there’s a grin on your lips that you can’t seem to wipe off.

“I. . .” Itto pants a little, “—I’ll leave whenever you want.”

You blink, staring at him like he’s crazy. If he’d phrased it any other way, you might well have been a bit offended, but the decision was yours, assumedly. The ball was in your court. If anything, he seems dejected. . . Like he’d never truly been shown enough kindness to accept that he might well deserve it from everyone.

“You don’t have to go,” you reply softly.

He seems surprised, but doesn’t appear to want to object. Maybe he’d been waiting to hear that all along.

“I can stay?” Itto questions.

There’s a glimmer of hope behind his eyes now. Any worries you had about spending the night with him have gone entirely out the window, and all you want to do now is wrap yourself around him, feel the stick of his skin against yours for the night, and drift off to sleep in his embrace.

“Yeah,” you nod, speaking gently. “You can stay.”

#arataki itto #itto #genshin #genshin smut #genshin x reader smut #arataki itto smut #itto smut #genshin impact x reader smut #arataki itto x reader smut #arataki itto x reader #itto x reader smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact reader insert smut #genshin impact smut #itto reader insert smut #arataki itto reader insert smut #itto x reader #genshin x reader

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dee002 · 11 months

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Betraying a Spider (Miguel O'hara x reader)

synopsis: you love Miguel and have been trying your best to ignore the parts of him you didn't like. these parts of him being his obsession with work and desire to control others leading him to make morally questionable actions. the recent encounter with Miles Morales leads you to cross Miguel and an argument follows.

word count: 1809

genre: angst

warnings: sfw, cussing, spoilers for Across the Spider-verse

notes: first fic... hope this goes well.

also i don't know how to add a line so here:

______________________________________________________________

you met Miguel a couple of years ago. he sought you out after your blood miraculously saved your best friend, Peter Parker.

in your universe, Peter Parker was bitten by a radioactive spider and he became the one and only spiderman. you were also bitten by a radioactive spider. however, this spider simply made you sick and failed to give you any super powers.

you continued to believe you were powerless until the day Peter had been beaten to the brink of death in a fight alongside the avengers. he'd been in a coma for six months. Dr. Bruce Banner worked tirelessly for a solution to wake him up, trying all kinds of tests and experiments to save him. eventually, he began to believe that nothing could be done for your friend. that was until Dr. Banner discovered that you too were bitten by a radioactive spider and decided that a blood transfusion from your body to Peter's may elicit some sort of reaction in Peter. His theory proved to be correct. Peter woke up within minutes of your blood in his veins.

when Miguel received word that a colleague he had assumed was all but dead was in fact very alive and back swinging through the streets of new york, he had to meet the woman responsible for saving him. after running more tests with Dr. Banner and confirming that it was in fact your blood that saved Peter, he took you back to HQ. here you discovered that while you didn't have super strength or the ability to shoot webs from your wrists, you still possessed a super ability: healing. and were thus deemed a Spiderwoman. your dna was altered by the spider and after experimenting with other spider people and regular humans it appeared that your blood affected the spider people and no one else.

as you worked at HQ and integrated into spider society, you grew closer to Miguel. this in itself seemed a miracle as Miguel made it a point to distance himself from everyone. but somehow, you slipped through the cracks. work meetings turned into outside of work coffee, coffee turned into dates, and dates turned into marriage. the two of you were infatuated with each other. for Miguel, you gave a reason to keep going, a purpose that meant more than holding the spider-verse together. for you, Miguel made life make sense. he made it seem like everything you've ever been through was worth it because those events led you to him. you love his drive, his passion, his commitment and, his dedication to what he believed was the right thing. coincidentally, the things you loved about him were also the things you hated.

for years you watched Miguel make callous moves. sending people dazed and confused back to their universes', tearing families apart, standing by and watching people die all in the name of keeping the multiverse in order. you had heard his story, seen the evidence, personally witnessed black holes attempting to swallow a universe whole. that's why you always brushed his actions off. reasoning with yourself that everything he did was for the greater good. most of the time you felt sympathy for Miguel. the weight of thousands of universes rested on his shoulders. you couldn't begin to understand the pressure he felt constantly. there was no way for you to begin to comprehend the burden he felt, knowing that if he allowed one piece to be out of line everything could come toppling over.

but now that you've met Miles Morales, seen the live footage from Lyla of Miguel's harsh words to the child during their fight, you couldn't acquiesce to Miguel's methods anymore. there was no way you could stand by idle and let Miguel terrorize a child like this. so as Miguel comes bursting through to the lab in attempts to rip Miles out of the Go Home Machine, you prematurely override the system and let Miles leave.

"what did you just do?" Miguel asks with an look of astonishment, still breathing heavily from the chase.

the room full of spiders was dead quiet, and in a state of disbelief that you would betray Miguel so brazzenly and in front of everyone. part of you couldn't believe what you did either. as you look at Miguel you find yourself regretting your actions, too stunned to do anything but gawk at him and plead with your eyes. he looked so angry, so conflicted. you could see his two sides fighting with each other. one Miguel that was the guardian on the multiverse, the other Miguel that was the one that loved you. you should have known which one would win.

He sighed and looked away from your gaze, "take her to the brig."

he can't be serious.

it seems like everyone else around you doubts his sincerity as well because all the spiders are hesitant to move. casting glances at each other seeing who will dare to put you, one of the most respected spider people and one of the only people Miguel cares for, in a cell.

"Miguel! are you-" you begin to voice your opposition but are promptly cut off.

"I said, take her to the brig," Miguel speaks more firmly, red eyes locking with the spiders nearest you.

He is serious.

two pairs of hands grab your arms and direct you to the brig. you decide to save yourself from anymore public embarrassment by keeping your mouth shut. you know that if you were to open it now, all that would come out would be pitiful whimpers and words meant for Miguel to forget the whole thing.

as you went you cast him glances over your shoulder but his eyes weren't on you. completely in business mode, you hear him send Gwen back to her universe and tell Jess and Ben to go to Miles' universe and he'd meet them there "after i deal with her."

the callousness and disassociation in his voice made tears well up in your eyes. your brain immediately jumped to all the worse conclusions.

will he send me back home? will he leave me locked up and try me for treason?

no, worse.

will he leave me? will he not love me anymore?

these thoughts continue to swirl in your head as you reach the brig. the two spiders handling you reluctantly lock you in the small laser bound room and leave as quickly as they came. as part of any functioning society, you need a brig and a court of law. both of which Miguel had built in the sub levels of HQ. both of which were rarely used. the brig was different that the holding room for anomalies as this room was made for law breaking spider people. as it were you are the only person in any of the cells. this was to your benefit as you didn't want anyone seeing you in the state that you were in. on the verge of a panic attack, you let a few tears fall out and pulled your knees up to your chest on the floor. in an attempt to self sooth you tried to reason that he was just putting up a strong front because you had the brilliant idea to defy him in front of all of spider society. he wouldn't actually hate you. he wouldn't cast you aside now, not after all this time. he loves you.

dosen't he?

or maybe because everyone saw the one person who should have been committed to Miguel and all of his efforts undermine him and everything he's built, he'd be force to get rid of you. he couldn't possibly be seen with you again after this. it's not a matter of ego, God knows he doesn't care what others think of him. it's a matter of business. after all what you did was treasonous.

the pessimistic thoughts are getting the best of you. you're ready to beg Miguel for forgiveness.

but, why?

you believe you did the right thing and would do it again, if it weren't for the consequences.

suddenly, a doorway opens in the lasers and Miguel steps in. he leans against the nearest wall you and looks down at you. the turmoil is evident in the crease of his brow.

"why?" is all he asks.

"what you're doing isn't right. what you said to that child wasn't right. and i know, i know you think it needs to be done but there has to be a better way!" as you speak you still avoid his eyes, holding the tears at bay.

"it's not about what i think is right. it's about what is. you've seen the evidence. you've seen what i," he takes a breath to control his rising anger, "what i have been through. you've seen all of it and you're still resistant?"

"i know! i know! and i'm not trying to discredit anything you've been through. you know i would never ever doubt you. but that doesn't change the fact that this is wrong!"

miguel shakes his head in disbelief at you. most of his reserve has vanished, the volume of his words ever increasing. "then why go against me now? you've been helping me for years! you never said anything!"

"i have! you just never listen to me Miguel! i have tried to get you to see it another way but you're so damn stubborn! but you're not always right and maybe there is another way to do this! just give the kid a chance."

"no. there isn't another way and you know that."

"but how will you know if you don't try and work with him. maybe the kid knows something you don't-"

"enough," accepting that his one true love was a lost cause, he slipped back to stoicism. a quality you were used to seeing him portray however it had never been aimed at you, "this discussion is over as it is clear you are choosing to be foolish."

the decisiveness of his bitter words made tears spill from your eyes. he walks over to your defeated form and crouches down to be eyelevel with you. he grabs your jaw and firmly lifts your chin.

"look at me." his words are airish and almost a whisper but are decidedly harsh.

you do as he says. meeting his eyes does nothing more than make you feel completely broken.

"i'm so disappointed. i thought we were one mi vida. but now you blatantly betray me-," he cuts himself off as anguish begins to seep through his words, "i don't have time for this. i'll deal with you when i get back."

for a moment his touch softens. but he abruptly rises and exits the cell, leaving you to crumble into a sobbing mess on the floor, inconsolable and heartbroken.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------notes: ok props to writers cause this was hard af and i got sick of myself half way through. i used to be able to write but i guess thats what happens when you dont use your gifts. anyways... like and subscribe? :/

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x black reader #across the spider verse spoilers #into the spider verse #spiderman #spiderverse x reader #miles morales #hobie brown #gwen stacy #fanfic

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romance-rambles · 1 month

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319 ROSES AND A DATE

Alkaid gets asked on a date by the girl he desperately wanted to ask out, at least before he found out who the flowers were for. You'd like to maintain that nothing you said was a lie.

— pairing: [modern] alkaid mcgrath x little painter/you

— word count: 2.8k

— tags: takes place after alkaid's florist ending [everything else happens the same way, except alkaid's first meeting with mc happens after godheim], misunderstandings [not unrequited love], some angst

— note: i was moved to try and write a flower shop au at least once after godheim but destiny's call really helped me out. handed me everything on a gold platter and said, "go to town, aya."

return to lbc masterlist | series: none

ALKAID STARES DOWN BLANKLY AT the bouquet of white roses in his hands. At some point during his stunned silence, he had unwittingly taken them off yours, just as you had hoped for.

All 319 of them, to be precise—which is a number that, put in a different context, can also refer to 3/19, the day of his birth. Even with the limited capacity he has at the moment to sort out the events that led up to this moment, he can't help the way his heart flutters at the knowledge that you remembered, even though so much time has passed.

"Alkaid?" A gentle tap against his shoulder robs the flowers of their spotlight. "Do you...not like the flowers?"

He looks up and sees you, still here—still dressed so beautifully he's once more in danger of succumbing to asphyxiation, with a fretful expression that makes him wonder if he's already there. When he does not respond, you close the remaining distance between them, obscuring all else from his vision.

It is a problem only because he has nowhere left to run.

"No," he croaks out finally, leaning back over the counter to accommodate you.

Obliviously, you move closer, leaving him with no choice but to avert his gaze once more. Alkaid can only hope you aren't offended—that you don't think he finds you unattractive, with how often he does so. It's only that your beaming smile reminds him of what it feels like to stare down the sun.

"They're lovely."

Satisfied with his answer, you pull back. Your hands are clasped behind your back, and your ponytail sways slightly, once more retreating behind your shoulder. There's an adorable star-shaped pin fastened onto the strap of your cross-body bag.

He sighs discretely, relieved, and pulls the bouquet up to his face as casually as he can. The petals, he hopes, will be enough to cover up the deep scarlet staining his cheeks.

"I'm glad!" You clap your hands together. "I was worried they wouldn't be to your liking. Maybe I should've asked you what your favorite flower was before I tried asking you out."

A self-deprecating laugh slips out as you scratch your cheek. An intricate design spans the length of your nail now—shades of red and green shaped into what he can clearly recognize as halves of a rose hugging the edges—against a black background.

Alkaid bites his lip, converting the interrupted gasp into a quiet exhale.

"You guessed right. I like white roses," he says, hoping desperately that his words are nothing less than reassuring. "Though they share that spot with lilies as well."

"Lilies," you repeat, a determined gleam in your lovely eyes. "I'll keep that in mind for next time."

He bites his lip harder.

THE MORNING HE'S DUE TO hand off your flowers, Alkaid finds himself contemplating the benefits of coffee behind the register.

Though his favorite concealer and his usual color corrector have done much to brighten up his undereyes, they can do little for the grogginess that comes with staying awake the whole night (Why such a specific number? Who are they for? Do you remember him at all?). And, by the time the clock strikes nine, he's already downed three cups of strongly-brewed tea.

What pushes him to finally break away from his usual preferences is a simple headache.

The store is empty, and there remains more than half an hour before you're set to arrive. A sharp twinge of pain in the side of his head as he stands up to check on your flowers draws out a careful hiss. Alkaid, with some amount of lingering hesitance, flips the sign on his door to closed, with a note explaining the rough length of absence. Then he walks out the door, his destination the artsy cafe across the street—the one that makes him think of you whenever he walks in.

Allen, the normally deadpan barista on duty, seems to shut down when Alkaid corrects him on his order. Soon, the news spreads to the rest of the employees, who take turns staring at him as he leaves with a warm thermos of coffee in his hands.

But, in the end, it proves to be an unnecessary trip.

You're already in front of his flower shop when he returns, half-crouched and studying the sign the way someone might study a work of abstract art. Today, too, you have a large, dark blue backpack slung over both your shoulders, its surface decorated with various pins and stickers—mostly of a cat, your cat, but also of a popular manga that you seem to like.

In Passing, that is.

It's about a love triangle featuring a tyrant emperor and a well-liked leader of the rebellion. Even without the reviews praising it for subverting expectations, Alkaid would've picked it up anyway.

He's on the third volume right now, and—

Hmm? His eyebrows furrow. Where did I leave it? In my bag?

All of a sudden, the sleep that had been so insistent on dragging his eyelids down vanishes. Alkaid wracks his brain desperately for the answers, stomach churning at the thought of you finding out about his latest reading material.

Unfortunately, you choose that moment to turn around.

"Oh, Alkaid!"

Your confused expression soon melts away, leaving behind only a cheerful smile. Tightening his grip on his thermos, he exhales silently, before flashing you a gentle smile.

"You're here." Time stops as you begin to approach him, your keychains singing a short jingle to accompany you. Your expression softens, as does your voice. "You didn't forget about me, right?"

Alkaid can only sputter out a half-coherent apology.

The words get drowned out by the insistent, purposeful beating of his heart. It's as if it wants to claw itself out of his chest and entrust itself to your hands, as it is, with shattered bones sticking out of it.

You laugh prettily, as always. "It's okay. I'm just joking."

Then, like a moth to a flame, his gaze falls upon your lips. A soft red, with a glossy sheen, one that matches the color of your skirt. On a plain canvas, it's all the more striking. It leaves him wondering about things he, currently a stranger, shouldn't be fretting over.

He's not sure how long he stares for, with slightly parted lips and a series of half-realized thoughts chiding at him to stop—only that it's not long enough for you to grow uncomfortable.

Alkaid clears his throat, holding up his thermos (I should've bought her something too, he thinks) as an explanation. "I apologize for the wait. I went over to the cafe across the street."

"Coffee lover?" you guess, making room for him to open the door.

"I'm usually more of a tea person." As he slips inside the store, he can't help but chuckle self-consciously, remembering all the different ways he imagined this scene playing out. Naturally, his next words are nothing more than the most blatant lie he's ever told. "I thought I'd try something else for a change."

"Is it a nice place?" Upon seeing the puzzled look he sends over his shoulder, you clarify, "The cafe. I've seen the reviews, but I think only experience can beat the testimony of someone you know."

He considers your question for a moment. "The staff is very friendly. I often stop by during lunch for their sandwiches."

"I see..." you murmur.

"I think you'd like it," Alkaid blurts out as he slips in behind the register, happy to note that his copy of Volume 3 is, in fact, in his bag. "The owner enjoys collecting art—there's a lot of different paintings all over the cafe. Um, since you're an art major."

"Well, now I have to try it out." You don't seem particularly startled that he knows about your major; instead, you take to drawing patterns across the wooden countertop. He thinks he sees the familiar curve of an A. "The cookies you recommended last time were really great too."

When he keeps his silence, the complete opposite of what the state of his mind currently is (she remembers?), you look up.

"Hmm?" You tilt your head, confusion clouding your once smiling expression. "Do I have the wrong person? You're Alkaid, right? From that time in the snow mountains?"

He forces himself to nod, but that too is enough.

A shy smile blossoms on your lips, paired with both a brief flash of relief flitting through your gaze and the slight, almost imperceptible widening of your eyes. Placing your hands above your heart, you sigh exaggeratedly.

"You had me worried for a moment," you say. Your eyelashes cast a dark shadow on your undereyes. "I thought we'd never meet again."

For a moment, he wonders if there's more to your sorrow than you let on. Does it have anything to do with the way you disappeared? Somewhere so far away that no one could reach you at all?

Alkaid shakes off his thoughts.

"But we did," he responds carefully. I never thought we'd meet again either, he does not say instead. "Whether it was destiny, whether it was just a coincidence, we did. All we can do is make the most of it."

A tinge of sadness mars your lovely smile. "I think that sounds lovely."

SOON AFTER THEIR REUNION, DONE properly this time, down to exchanging numbers, Alkaid excuses himself to go fetch your flowers. When he returns, lovesick heart brimming with curiosity over the recipient's identity once more, he finds you've returned to doodling on the counter.

"Here they are, 319 white roses," he announces.

There's a blank expression on your face when you look up. Slowly, as recognition dawns upon you, it melts away to something bitter and rough. Its jagged edges dig into his his heart, leaving a paralyzing mix of sadness and longing to wash over him.

And then—

"Thank you," you say, and take the flowers off his hand.

His hand twitches, yearning for the camera he still keeps in his backpack, for the days where he feels like memorializing something instead. Lovely is the only word he has to describe you as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ears and pull the bouquet close with a faint smile.

Then, you close your eyes, and you inhale deeply. Once more, you are somewhere else—somewhere far, somewhere he can't reach.

"Ah, sorry." You crack one eye open. Now, the bouquet is clutched against your chest, but your sadness remains. "I guess I'm a bit nervous. I don't know if he'll like the flowers."

He? From some far corner of his mind, he recalls the image of your guardian. A tall man, with long silver hair and a pleasant, but guarded expression. Cael, he thinks is the name.

"For your guardian?" Alkaid inquires.

Your smile drops entirely at the mention of your guardian. A complicated series of emotions flash in your gaze, soon averted to one of the potted plants at the display. Scratching your cheek, you offer him a polite laugh.

Today, only some of your nails are a plain black. The rest remain bare.

"No, it's not for Cael." You answer carefully. "Actually—"

Looking down at the flowers, you take a deep breath. When next you speak, your voice has reclaimed the softness it'd shown him earlier—your searching gaze as well. You leave him with the truth, imparting it onto him like a mischievous secret.

"There's someone I'd like to ask out."

His stomach drops, and you leave him with the memory of lovelorn smile, forever imprinted behind his eyelids.

"I hope he says yes."

[3:00 PM] you: Alkaid, do you have any plans tonight?

[3:17 PM] alkaid: No, I'm free

[3:21 PM] alkaid: Did something happen?

[3:22 PM] you:

[3:22 PM] you: I haven't asked him out yet. Gonna do it soon

[3:23 PM] you: All of my other friends are busy rn.

[3:24 PM] you: Is it okay if I stop by after you close up shop?

[3:24 PM] you: I'd want to talk to someone about it

[4:31 PM] alkaid: Of course

SOMEHOW, ALKAID MANAGES TO GET through the rest of the day.

His heart is held together haphazardly with duct tape and carefully-placed staples, though their efforts are thwarted constantly by a popular refrain (You hardly know him. Of course there's someone else.), and he's one stubbed toe away from being reduced to tears, but he manages. Somehow.

He swallows down his what-ifs and maybes and waits, watching the hands on his wristwatch inch ever closer to six in the evening. And eventually, the vaguely promised time arrives.

As he's stepping out from behind the register, a familiar chime echoes cuts through the silence. Alkaid looks up and sees you, dressed still in red and black, your turtleneck and skirt swapped out for a knee-length dress.

"Hi."

The bouquet of white roses—held in both hands, a stark contrast to the black leather jacket you're wearing—covers up its neckline. You smile sheepishly at him, pulling at the mesh of your bright red skirt to mimic a curtsy.

You're beautiful. Even the flowers surrounding them pale in comparison. Even the aurora they'd seen together pales in comparison. You rob him of his breath and leave gasping for a reprieve, but so long as he keeps his memory in even the smallest capacity, that's simply impossible.

The familiar knife called jealousy stabs into his heart, leaving him keenly aware of his longing. He averts his gaze, but the damage has already been done. You are beautiful, and he has waited years to see you.

"Hi." Alkaid swallows uncomfortably, as the sound of your footsteps draws closer. In a panic, his hands brace themselves against the edge of the counter. "Was something wrong with the flowers? I thought—"

A mysterious expression sits upon your features when you pull his gaze onto you, seemingly oblivious to your magnetic power.

With a deep breath, you thrust the flowers at him, knuckles brushing against his chest. You pull back for a moment, taking your flowers with you, and the soft coral of your blush makes it difficult to discern whether you find yourself a victim the of same scarlet blooming across his cheeks.

"That's—" You cough politely. There's a heart-shaped pendant dangling from your golden necklace. The dress is either strapless or your jacket has covered up the straps. "—what I'm here to find out."

Alkaid tilts his head. His confused gaze darts across his surroundings and stops at the glass window of the store's display, thinking perhaps that your mystery boy might be outside. But while the streets are not barren, there is no one outside his store.

You say his name in the same way you told him your secret. Like it's something precious. Like it's something you love. And the truth begins to settle into his bones with a finality that deafens the half-coherent puzzle pieces he's been trying to fit together—he is the only one you could possibly ask out in this empty store.

He has no choice but to look back. At you, and the bouquet you're offering him.

"Would you like to go to the movies with me?"

AND THAT IS HOW HE finds himself with the beginnings of a bruise forming on his lip. He doesn't mind, not when the sting he feels as he wets his lip reminds him that this is not, in fact, a dream (It feels like it though, he thinks), nor a fantasy.

"You...you don't have a girlfriend, do you? It's been a while since then..."

You rub your arm lightly, muttering about something he can't understand, and what else is Alkaid meant to do but take your hand? He squeezes it gently, tickled to find that he can return the favor for all the times you've stolen his breath away.

Your lips part slightly, but whatever you hoped to say does not leave the confines of your mysterious mind. Instead, you draw some of your hair from both sides over your flushed cheeks.

"Nothing like that," he reassures, smiling gently at you. "I'm just surprised. I didn't realize you were talking about me."

"That's a reli—what." In a single moment, your voice goes from girlishly breathless to an irritated flat. Releasing your hair, you blink uncomprehendingly at him. "How?"

Watching you descend into another muttered ramble, Alkaid shrugs. "If you'd still like that date..."

You whip your head in his direction. "Then it's a date!"

The first time he met you, it was when you had fished out of the snow and offered him a warm drink to fight off the cold. They had talked about miscellaneous things, from your half-hearted desire to request a camera for your birthday to who could make the better model between them both.

And back then, he had thought to himself that there was no sound more beautiful than your laugh.

Almost four years after the fact, as he watches you giggle, Alkaid can confidently say his past self had the right idea. Such a specific title leaves him with room to declare your follow-up smile to be just as breathtaking.

#fics by aya #lovebrush chronicles #lovebrush chronicles x reader #alkaid mcgrath #alkaid mcgrath x reader #lovebrush alkaid #lovebrush alkaid x reader #lbc alkaid #lbc alkaid x reader #little painter #rambles from here on ->#i feel like lars has the common sense not to act like a ceo in a manhwa but i really do think cael would think this is fine #i feel like he'd probably be like “this is the least i can do”#that said i am curious if mc paid for those flowers with her own money?? is her mom rich too #i feel like she'd still be funded by lars (because fan) LOL he also coached her on how to ask alkaid out it's the blind leading the blind #should i write mc's pov too LOL #this was just supposed to be silly little misunderstandings and now there's ANGST and BACKSTORY and MORE ANGST

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squirmhoney · 1 year

Note

Hello! Drabble event request: number 2, Lie to yourself all you want but your body always tells the truth with Jason Todd please :)

Drabble Event: "Lie to yourself all you want but your body always tells the truth." x Jason Todd

Warnings: Angst. Mentions of past non con. Dub con. Character death kind of. smut. Dark Jason. 18+ WC: 600

In the back of your head you had felt glad that he was gone, finally at peace without Jason Todd breaking into your room as he took you as he pleased, whether you were willing or not. But the other side of you was devastated, still mourning the Jason you once knew, the best friend that you would now definitely never be able to see again.

Because he was dead.

But the memory of him was haunting your days and nights like some sort of fever dream you couldn't escape. Even when you moved out of the manor, you felt his presence still looming over you, tormenting your very being. The ghost of his fingers pressing against your skin and those lingering kisses that you pretended with every ounce of your body you hated.

After a whole year, you realised you couldn't escape him, even if he was dead, his memory still carried on. At least that's what you believed as you stumbled into your apartment after a long shift at the station. Until you noticed the figure in your room dressed in a familiar black and red suit, one you had told about at work, the infamous red hood attire.

But as the man turned around, a large grin on his face, your fear turned into pure shock.

"Miss me?" Jason asked, teeth smiling at you like some sort of predator.

Within minutes you were pressed face down on the mattress, your ass sticking up for Jason's perverse nature as his hands groped at your bare skin. You were trembling, goose bumps littering your skin whenever his finger tips grazed it.

"I knew you would of missed me but I didn't realise how much," Jason chuckled darkly, fingers poking at your drenched folds.

"You're insane," you barked at him, feeling a mix of emotions.

The slap against your cunt is harsh, full of the rage of not being able to see you for so long like it was your fault. It makes you grip onto the sheets in front of you, squealing at the impact as he does it again.

"Fuck," you hissed, biting on your bottom lip to keep your noises in. "I hate you." There's a edge of sadness to your tone, tears buried deep from your time apart and you knew he could sense it.

"You miss me. I mean you're already coating my fingers." He's all smugness behind you, relishing the way his touch makes you crumble so easy before him.

"No, I don't." Your words are choked in your throat and you find yourself pushing back tears to hide your overwhelming emotions.

"Lie to yourself all you want but your body always tells the truth," Jason said, fingers sliding in to your walls. You clench around him, sucking him in greedily and holding him there in hopes he wouldn't leave. "See."

"You left me here," the tears have escaped, sliding down your face. There's no fighting the truth now.

In one swift motion he has you flipped onto your back, caging your body with his as hovers over you.

You try to hide your face, lip quivering as you look to the side. But Jason pinched your chin, turning your face to him as he looks down at you with a knowing smirk.

"Is my pretty girl crying over me," he taunted, thumb gliding over your cheek to wipe your tears in what should be a loving motion.

"Fuck you," you let out in a sob, biting your tongue as his cock slid against your pussy.

"I missed you too," he told you, eyes softening at your face. He slid himself into your walls, making you wince slightly at the pleasurable stretch.

Your hands reached out to cling to him, legs wrapping around his waist wishing to keep him there forever.

"I won't ever leave you again," he whispers against your lips, rolling his hips into yours as he eases you into. "I promise."

You eat up his words with your lips, closing the distance between you as you become malleable in his hold.

He would never leave you again because you wouldn't let him.

#squirmsdrabbleevent #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd smut #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood smut #jason todd x female reader #yandere red hood

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lorebeth · 1 year

Text

When you aren't looking

Disclaimer: Hello! This is my first ever piece on this website so I hope it reaches the right audience! I'm still a little new to this so if you have any tips for how to get better accustomed to the app I'd be happy to learn!

I've recently had a hyperfixation on Dan Heng so hopefully this expresses my love for him psfjdhfjsj HELP THERE'S A FEW SPELLING MISTAKES

TW: Might be a little sad, Dan Heng ignores reader due to his feelings, Dan Heng hopelessly in love with you and terrified of his feelings towards you. Readers birthday, mwah!

Dan Heng couldn't comprehend it. His feelings for you have skyrocketed and he can't help but get a feeling at the bottom of his stomach whenever he sees you.

He doesn't like what you've done to him these past few months since you first joined him and the others. He couldn't find it in his heart to trust you after the effect you had on him so drastically but he also couldn't help not let you into his heart through your caring actions towards the others. How you communicate with March 7th, it makes his heart flutter and the way you make coffee for Himeko before her waking up.

He wonderered what you haven't done to make everyone's life just that inch more easier. Even Pom Pom adored you in their own little way.

What really hit the nail on the coffin for Dan Heng was when you found him awake in the dead of night when even Welt himself was asleep. You carefully approached him with a careful hand on his shoulder, making him shiver whenever he remembers the event.

"Would you like a cup of coffee? Tea, perhaps?" he knew you could see the bags under his eyes and the messy nest ontop of his head, yet all you did was offer him a hot beverage. You could have told him to go to sleep but he knew you knew that would have done nothing. And for that, he slowly started opening up to you. From a distance that is.

You had in fact won him over but his crippling fear of rejection stopped him. He couldn't face you again after he came to the conclusion he doesn't feel the same way he does with you with Himeko or March for example. How would you react if you saw him smile ever so gently whenever you help someone or whenever you explain to March why Welt has his phone brightness too high and can't change it due to his lack of expertise in mobile phones, causing March to giggle and try take Welt's phone.

So, he began to ignore you. And it did hurt him to see March come in his room without you because he simply couldn't see you. You had caught on quite quickly after the 3rd or 4th time he kept making excuses to not being able to spend time with you.

As time passed, your birthday was finally here and of course you felt horrible because this amazing boy was ignoring you, and of course you told March who felt the need to scold him personally and escort, as she frased it the, "Sorry Looking Emo Potato Salad" to the meeting held in place for your birthday. He of course had said previously that he was busy sorting out the files of the new monsters you had stumbled across and it would take the whole day. You felt your eyes tear up when he came in startled and with a face full of shame and desire to run away from the situation.

"March.. It's okay, he said he was busy. Honestly, Dan Heng it's okay, go do what you have to do." it angered you that the one you most wanted to spend your birthday with couldn't be bothered but your interest rised when he pulled out a little dark green envelope and a blue bag with a Happy Birthday plastered on it. It looked like his handwriting so perhaps it almost made up for him ignoring you all this time. Almost.

"Oh..? Thank you Dan Heng! I know you've been really busy these few weeks. So I appreciate it!" you were still upset but alot less now that you've seen the boy and you had a beautifully wrapped gift inside from him, there was shredded navy blue tissue paper covering the top.

"Happy Birthday Y/N. I'm sorry I haven't seen you much. I have to go now. If you don't like it or it isn't right, come to my room later tonight. I want you to open the envelope and my present last, please."

With that, the boy was off again. And instead of the feeling of sadness and hurt wash over you, you felt quite happy and curious for what he could have gotten you.

"Well that was weird.. Oh Y/N, Y/N!! Look at my gift!" you went on and started opening the rest of your presents, almost forgetting about the raven haired boy and his mysterious envelope and present.

After the little party, you found yourself ecstatic. You were going to have a sleepover with March after you got dressed and changed your out of your beautiful birthday outfit. Himeko wouldn't stop complimenting you and your colour combinations. It made you feel special.

Just as you were about to leave, from the corner of your eye, you see the little bag. You had put the envelope inside and from there you took it upstairs, having a quick chat with Welt and then changing.

You picked it up and saw a rectangular box, as you carefully tear off the paper, you see a stunning pair of earrings, they matched your everyday work outfit and still stood out, in the light shining your favourite shade of (F/C). You felt so full and empty at the same time, these must have cost a fortune but they were so fricking pretty. They made you laugh softly.

You had only discovered your feelings for him a week before he started disappearing on you. You made him that hot beverage and took him to his room, helping him put the last of his data he had collected and took his mug when he was finished. That moment was so domestic and made you strangely happy. You couldn't see yourself doing that for anyone other than March and you loved her like a sister.

The envelope caught your attention, as you begin to open it you hear a knock at your door, "Y/N! Are you coming?" March did have a habit of being impatient.

"Yes! One second, I'll be right there March." as she walked away, you opened the envelope, noticing the little pattern engraved onto the paper inside and on the envelope itself. It had a scent to it, as if Dan Heng himself hugged the letter and it caught his perfume.

Dear Y/N,

I'm sorry I've been so distant lately. I've grown to like you more than a friend would, and it hurts me every time I ignore you and you hurt. I've been afraid of rejection almost my entire life and I could not stand to lose another person I have grown to love. If you do not feel the same way, please ignore this letter. I just felt the need to explain myself because you deserve it. I've been selfish.

Yours, Dan Heng.

You've never sped walked to his room faster.

#dan heng #hsr #honkai star rail #Honkai #Dan Heng is so hot omg #Y/N #dan heng x gender neutral reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng x y/n

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stormgardenscurse · 2 years

Text

Dream a Little Dream

About: They go to sleep one night and have a peculiar dream (June Bride themes - is their subconscious hinting at their feelings for you?)

CW: marriage/wedding themes (though they mostly just want to be with you for a long time, instead of marriage specifically!), hints of living together in Trey’s (domestic)

Characters: Vil, Trey, Leona, Lilia

Vil

His dream toed the realm between vivid realism and a haze. In a forest one might imagine from out of a fairytale, Vil found part of his vision blinded by sunlight. It was bright enough that he had to raise a hand to shield his eyes, which allowed him to notice your figure in the short distance.

You seemed to be talking to creatures of some sort, ones that flitted around you and left golden dust in their wake. It was only after registering the entire scene that Vil realized what this was: you were dressed up for the fairy gala.

It was the most elegant ensemble he’s ever seen you in, complete with a charming hairdo and accessories.

Despite how extravagant the whole ordeal seemed on paper, it all somehow felt very… you. Your own style of fairy gala attire - what Vil (perhaps subconsciously) thought you’d look best in and still feel wholly yourself.

Noticing his presence, you turned and gave Vil a smile as you waved him over.

For the first time in a while, he wondered if this was what it was like to be starstruck by someone’s beauty. Even after Vil wakes up, he's still able to recall the dream and the way your eyes lit up when you saw him.

…Someone’s mentioned to him before; the way the outfits for the fairy gala were designed… Their colors looked a bit like wedding clothes, don’t they?

Trey

As Trey prepares breakfast for himself in Heartslabyul’s kitchen, he couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy due to the dream he woke up from; wasn’t this exactly what he was doing inside it?

Well… sort of. That kitchen hadn't been located in the school, but instead a comfortable, peaceful apartment. He was preparing a simple meal to start off the day in his dream, and poured a cup of coffee for himself just as you entered.

The both of you sat down together at the dining table as if it was routine. The scariest part was, thinking back, that it genuinely did feel like routine, which now leaves a pang of nostalgia in his chest for something that never took place in reality. (Yet, at least.)

…Trey is starting to get afraid of how immersive dreams could be. In it, you talked about your plans for the day, and Trey noticed that your hairstyle was a little different - the way you were holding yourself felt more mature, too.

Trey squeezes his eyes shut as he wills himself to stop recalling the memory, placing the dishes into the sink and hoping the cold water that hits his hands can help ground him.

Just how badly has he fallen for you to be dreaming about a life together, even beyond Night Raven College? He’s still a student after all!

Leona

To be honest, Leona thought his dream was going to be an annoying one at first.

The first thing he registered was the sound of classical music, then the tinker of glassware and people’s chatter as they mingled within the crowd.

Out of all things, he just had to dream that he was in a party - a fancy one, no less.

But then it was as if the camera panned away to another shot; from an overview of the event to close-ups of the main characters, you and him.

You were dancing together amongst other couples, but somehow Leona didn’t feel too annoyed about being around so many people.

It was probably because of your presence, since it allowed him to focus on things that calmed his nerves; your little expressions whenever the dance steps changed, the swishes made from your outfit (when had you found such a formal one? Its silhouette might one-up the host’s), and the fondness in your eyes that made Leona want to turn away and huff (to hide the way his own gaze softens).

At the back of his mind, he knew that in this narrative, you were attending a wedding as guests. What irked his now-awake self however was that around the very end, Leona looked down to where your hands met - only to see bands of gold adorning your ring finger and his. And it felt normal.

Lilia

Lilia immediately recognised the scenery his dream used as a backdrop; it was a spot in the Valley of Thorns that he’d frequent to watch the stars and ponder over his thoughts, especially before and after big events in his life.

Thus, having a dream about this place wasn’t very odd for Lilia. But what was unusual was your presence there.

Lilia hasn’t invited you to his homeland yet, nor has he told you of his extensive history. However… The way you were gazing out at the stars, leaning your arms against the railing of the stone bridge - it felt as if you already knew, and that you’ve been living here with him as well.

While Lilia knew that this certainly wasn’t reality, he allowed himself to muse within this dream. Perhaps this was his subconscious’ way of apologizing to you for his cowardice - for he was still hesitant in fully courting you, fearing that the burdens of his past would weigh you down.

But now that this dream has been shown to him… How could Lilia deny that it was what he wanted, deep down? To bring you to places that mattered to him, tell you the stories that made him who he was - to let himself rely on you.

Because in this dream, where you were talking together under the timeless sky? This felt like home. It made him want to make a promise with you under the light of these stars.

#twst imagines #twst writing #twst x reader #twst reader insert #twst x you #twst headcanons #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #leona kingscholar x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #trey clover x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst leona #twst vil #twst trey #twst lilia #storm writings

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lavender-teardroplettes · 7 days

Note

Si x Friend headcannons mayhaps🥺👉👈

......ANON I LOVE YOU!!!!!!

God it's been a minute and Si's lore got lumped in with me first trying to make an oc for the game before switching into self insert-

Friend 100% was Si's first crush even if he pushed Si away at first and while keeping in mind that neither of them knew what a crush was at that point.

Even before Friend's family dies, Si's family would hold up appearances and let him hide out at their house occasionally. Si's house was nowhere as clean as Friends no matter how much clutter and other junk were cleaned up, but to both of them, because it was happier together than alone, it was home. After the accident, Si was allowed more in Friend's household and Friend was allowed to travel more frequently between his and SI's place to get what little comfort and sense of normality he could hold onto.

Keagan caused a REALLY big rift in Si and Friend throughout high school until the two of them had their initial falling out. A lot of it was Keagan super hitting on Si, and one of Keagan's friends (blanking on his name atm) not only putting down Si, but putting down Friend at the same time. It was stupid and chalked up to peer pressure and SI not actually having a good support system that he distanced himself from Friend, when in reality they were each other's biggest rocks and something Si regrets betraying before the events of the demo.

The day Si calls Friend to pick him up after breaking up with Keagan and not wanting to ride in a car with a drunk driver was one of the hardest days in Si's life. He finally allowed himself to be vulnerable and rely on the one person he knew he could count on....and oh god was he glad it was still true.

During the events of the demo- I see Si being on the side of still harboring old feelings for Friend, but not wanting to mess up the second chance they have. He assumes Friend is being his usual flirty self since Si had heard about him being more of a playboy, and you expect your friends to change over the years, so he mostly pushes his feelings down and feels like he's the only one stuck in the past.

^ This also causes him to be a little too nice and friendly with people since he's used to his best friend "casually flirting" with him and doesn't think too much of the more subtle approach most people take....like Carter for example.

I don't see Si getting kidnapped to the basement in the way that most do in that sort of route. I see Friend playing on Si's paranoia and convincing him that he can't trust anyone in the way he trusts Friend, and that it would be just like Keagan all over again. Why start all over with someone new when you can be with someone you've known....trusted....loved....your whole life? I see maybe one friend that Si makes outside of Friend possibly dying if they pry too much into Si's disappearance, but I would also like to think that if Si went willingly, Friend would try his best to scare them off instead of risking Si being upset with him more than he already is with the confusion of being gaslit and essentially talked into living in a fancy cell.

Alternatively....we can have two dorks who have been love with each other since there were kids where one person knew all along and the other took longer to realize it until their sense of love and comfort suddenly wasn't there anymore. Si and Friend are both on the demi spectrum iirc, but it takes longer for Friend to realize it and they fall victim to stupid high school bs in between everything. In this case, I see the cat cafe date being canon, with SI wearing a cute outfit just to TRY and shoot his shot again hopefully picking up on Friend's signals in the right way this time. Of course, this still means that Friend is weary of every move Si makes, but it opens up for more measures of security on Si's end. Si'll never know who killed the man who touched his arm or the woman who got to close to him while he was walking, and slowly Friend has more of a grasp on Si's day to day life to make sure he NEVER leaves Friend in the same way his sisters did. To Friend....he has nothing left to hope or LIVE for if he doesn't have Si, and he's not giving an inch of an opening for it to happen again....if he can manage it.

#si qna #stnafgame

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b3achysurfur · 5 months

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If we notice in the webtoon, Taylor and Ben are the only ones who have not been seriously injured...

Aiden was crushed

Tyler was impaled

Ashlyn had a concussion

Logan ended up with a big cut on his side

Do you think something worse could happen to Taylor and Ben?

I think eventually all of them will face some sort of serious injury, so I highly doubt Ben and Taylor will be safe. I think ashlyn and Logan will also get more deadly wounds soon (hope Logan is first in line 🙏)

But I do find it interesting that they are the only two unharmed. Especially since they had a mini romance going on in S1. awwww I miss them 😢

Whats also interesting is how impulsive, destructive, and agressive Taylor has been lately as well as her increased screentime 😈

We’ve also unfortunately seen Logan get a lot of panels lately as well. And idk if u guys remember S1 but Tyler, ashlyn, and Aiden were the ones who got a lot of attention. But now that Tyler and Aiden are out , the attention has shifted to Taylor and Logan. But not Ben!!!!! (I want more Ben screentime, fuck Logan no body gaf what’s going on with him 😒 tell me ab Benny boy NOOOWWWW!!!!!!)

my point is Taylor or Logan may be the next to experience a major event. They’ve also been the ones exhibiting the most “phantom traits” , MOSTLY Taylor tho. also there’s a few other things that point to Taylor being in harms way very soon.

but basically the signs are telling me Taylor is gonna go through smth much worse than what’s happening rn. Back to Taylor and Ben’s relationship tho. Ben always tries to give back to things that treat him well, idrk how to word it. In S1 Taylor is very considerate of the whole group, but there are a few instances where she focuses on him.

in S2, ben mirrors this act by physically protecting her and attempting to comfort her to the best of his abilities

taylor leans into this comfort and support, even if it’s only by a little. taylor needs people, and ben can easily become her person. they both value their family and friends a lot and are willing to put their lives on the line/distance themselves if it means protecting them. they both have lost someone who has guided them out of a dark time in their life to the phantom dimension. they both are kind hearted people who are gentle. they are both a pea to someone’s pod (Aiden and Ben, Taylor and Tyler). they understand each other better than anyone else.

Ben cares about Taylor a lot. we don’t get scenes of them like we do with aidlyn anymore, but we do get little snippets. he is willing to protect her , even if it puts himself at risk. HE COVERED HER COMPLETELY WITH HIMSELF!!! HE DIDNT EVEN COVER HIS HEAD OR ANYTHINGG IGHWHEHA!!??? He had been holding her in place ever since the phantom had started chasing them. HE CARES SM IT HURTS ME.

ben has been such a neglected character, but I don’t think this was for no reason. I believe Ben’s time will come. I was honestly expecting a reaction out of him when Aiden ‘died’ but we got aidlyn so idrc 😈🙏. anyways a lot of people want to see Ben tweak AND I DO TOO!!! but you also have to remember, him not getting mad and bearing with the situation shows how much he has grown from his past. Ben has intense anger issues that he’s HEAVILY ashamed of. keeping himself in check is already hard enough with day to day triggers, but add his new phantom situation onto that? mans is STRUGGLING, but since it’s in silence no one ever talks ab it 🙁 we’ve seen Tyler crack under this pressure, Logan getting madder, and taylor has gotten angrier too! ashlyn is more stressed and tired than angry, and Aiden is having fun most of the time. but Ben? he’s been trying his absolute hardest to not flip out.

so that combined with his affection for tay, if something bad really does happen to her, I do believe it will be his final straw. There’s only so much self control a 14 year old has (even though most adults would’ve went insane by now). Whether Taylor turns into a phantom or she gets injuries/dies, it will hit Ben HARD. Tyler will also be affected, but I really hope it doesn’t overshadow Ben. Losing Taylor would mean Ben wasn’t able to protect her like he wanted to and after Aiden also got hurt, I don’t think he would be able to take it. I think it’ll also extremely upset him when he finds out his family got caught in the crossfire of the kidnapping.

I was thinking about it, and we might actually see ben use his voice out of desperation. I really hope we don’t, bc I think ben not being verbal is nice representation, it’s so important to his character, and I love seeing how ben expresses himself without words. but I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he used it to call out to someone. The way this scene (⬇️⬇️) is worded is like, “he CAN (might even) talk, he just doesn’t WANT (have a reason) too”. i really hope he doesn’t, but it’s definitely a possibility 😢 especially if we get a ben centered arc that’s caused by his anger and the loss he’s experienced.

All in all, I don’t think Ben be the next one to be injuried really, but I do think Taylor will. And Taylor getting hurt will finally open up a arc centered around/that includes ben 🙏

hope red gives us the craziest angst we've ever seen for them two and then kills Logan 😛

(sorry for rambling sm 😓 I tried to shorten it but now i feel like some parts don’t make sense. UGH WTV!!! I’m very passionate about Ben and the affects Taylor has had on him 😒)

#sbg #school bus graveyard webtoon #school bus graveyard #schoolbus graveyard #sbg (webtoon)#ben clark #sbg ben #taylor sbg #taylor hernandez #asks #theories

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patchworkgargoyle · 4 months

Text

🩸 A Steddie Big Bang Fic 🌙

Chapter 6

story by: @patchworkgargoyle || art by: @mcdadarts || playlist to come by: @steves-strapcollection || beta'd by: @tboygareth Rating: E || Words: ~6k || CW: blood drinking, accidental to intentional voyeurism, mutual masturbation (kinda) || Full tag list on ao3! Fic title from Wolf Like Me - TV On The Radio We're getting into the spicy shit with Eddie's pov today, folks! Mind the content warnings.

The research crew lasted twenty minutes after Harrington left before they gave up studying. Dustin insisted they’d checked every single musty tome even vaguely related to werewolves already and found nothing, and sitting there going through them all again was a waste of valuable time.

What wasn’t a waste, apparently, was sitting in the Harrington’s living room and watching a recorded version of Grease, commercials and all. Not that it mattered, because the kids all talked over themselves during the whole movie anyway. Though, sometimes, Eleven (and Eddie had yet to have that name explained) stopped to sing along under her breath and it warmed Eddie’s cold, sluggish heart so much that he sang Greased Lightnin’ with her. He hoped that would save him from facing Max’s brutal wit being turned on him for being a metalhead singing to a damn musical.

These children that Steve surrounded himself with–or, from the stories Dustin had been telling, it sounded like they adopted him instead–were insanely brilliant and brave, and the way they talked about Steve now that he wasn’t around wasputting even more cracks in the walls Eddie had put up to keep Steve at a distance. Not that it’d been working well in the first place. Steve himself had smashed a hole through it when he offered Eddie his own blood (something Eddie did his level best to Not Think About), despite only knowing Eddie for a little over a week. But Dustin, Max, and El, all so much more like Eddie than Steve was in school, and yet here they were, describing how he’d stopped some kind of lost swamp creature from ruining a farmer’s field, and probably being killed for it, with nothing but his charm and a big bag of compost. What a big damn hero he was.

So, sue him if he’d been rethinking all of his Doctrine bullshit. Steve wasn’t King of Hawkins High anymore; he was grumpy on the mornings he had an early shift, he indulged Eddie’s long-winded ramblings, owned a terrifying amount of medieval weaponry, and he took care of his people. And Eddie had found himself temporarily counted amongst them. It chafed and made him feel special at the same time.

Sometimes he found himself sneaking around the gym attached to the monster hunter library while Steve–no, Harrington swung around all sorts of dangerous and spiky implements in a training regimen designed to put all his rippling muscles on very athletic display. Eddie told himself he was studying up. In the unlikely event that Harrington did turn on him, of course. It was the smart thing to do.

Eddie had zoned out thinking of said training when he heard a car door close outside. Snapped out of his daydream, Eddie's head twitched towards the noise, and when Max’s did too all the kids were on high alert.

“That’s not Steve and Robin,” Max warned.

Dustin looked at Eddie, wide-eyed, and Eddie felt his hands clench in the arm of the couch. “Maybe it’s one of your moms?” he suggested, but Max shook her head. “Fuck.”

“It’s fine, I’ll answer the door, people know me and Steve are like this,” Dustin wrapped his middle finger over his index, “so that shouldn’t give anything away. I’m here all the time!” His nonchalant shrug did nothing to conceal how his voice cracked nervously and Eddie’s confidence sank lower. “Y’know what, maybe they’re just turning around and won’t even knock–”

Three hesitant knocks echoed down the foyer and Dustin winced.

Max glared, unimpressed. “You jinxed it, moron.”

“Shut up!” he hissed. Waving his hands around like a manic conductor, Dustin made everyone sit in silence while he stared at the door. Eddie hoped this would work, just waiting the person out, but his hopes were dashed when they heard slightly more frantic rapping. “Shit. Alright. Time for Plan B. Eddie, prepare for Plan C.”

“What’s Plan C!?” Eddie whispered anxiously. He hid his face in his hands when Dustin copied Eddie’s Dracula pose from earlier. “No, no, absolutely not, Dustin. Wait, hey!”

The kid raced to the door when the knocking came back and Eddie flung himself to the floor to not risk being seen. The sound of the lock was all the warning he got before Dustin opened the door and: “Oh, um. Hi there, you’re Steve’s friend right?” Eddie knew that voice. “Is he here still?”

Eddie popped up over the couch. “Chris?”

She grinned and waved, so Eddie scrambled off the floor and ran to tug her inside, deftly avoiding the sunshine, then wrapped her in a tight hug. Seeing her was more of a relief than he’d thought. Being stuck in Steve’s house without his stuff, his friends, his uncle…

“Oh fuck, I forgot to leave a note for Wayne.”

Chrissy snort-laughed into his shirt. “He called me and I told him you were okay, but I had to make sure.” She stepped back. “You do look okay. Good, actually. Even though, uh,” she trailed off and saw Dustin standing at the closed door wiggling his eyebrows at Eddie.

He narrowed his eyes at Dustin and subtly shook his head, only getting an eye roll in return. “We’ll talk about that later, I think,” Eddie said. “In the meantime, wanna help me babysit?”

After introductions were made–and El made Chrissy giggle when she bluntly but admiringly stated, “You’re very pretty,”–and they’d all settled back in, Eddie found that Chrissy fit right in. Dustin was a little starstruck at first, which Eddie chalked up to the whole freshman nerd kid and senior cheerleader thing, but as soon as she started asking about the summer camp hat he wore he started infodumping like his life depended on it. Chrissy, used to listening to Eddie’s endless speeches, participated like a pro. The way Dustin’s grin kept growing made Eddie think she’d just earned a friend for life. Eventually Max peeled Dustin away from Chrissy with a few well-placed taunts so she and Eddie could catch up.

Chrissy’s life had been going along as normal, though she’d been keeping tabs on Jason just in case, she told Eddie. He wished that hadn’t made her wince with guilty regret, but they’d fought before over her relationship with him so badly once it nearly cost him their friendship, so he kept his opinion to himself. As far as she knew, though, Jason was acting normally.

Eddie had a little more to talk about. Gossiping about Steve with her was a relief; who knew he’d learn so much about the former King in just a few weeks of forced cohabitation?

“You know, he mumbles to himself,” Eddie said, ignoring that he was also mumbling. “He’ll mumble and when I try to talk back he gets in a little snit and says ‘I wasn’t talking to you!’” Chrissy giggled at his very poor impression of Steve’s voice. “What does he expect me to do? He asks himself questions and I answer and he gets all bitchy at me. But I can’t win, because, get this, he’ll bitch at me again when I don’t respond because he’s mumbling in the same damn tone!”

Eyes sparkling with mirth, Chrissy covered her smile with a hand, her knees tucked up to her chest on the couch. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” she teased.

“I don’t like your tone,” Eddie said, eyes narrowed. Her smile grew wider behind her hand, and when she raised an eyebrow he folded his arms. “Don’t get any ideas, Cunningham.”

“No, nope, no ideas.”

He glared at her for a few more seconds before a song came on over the TV that jogged his memory and he pointed at the screen. “And you know what else he does? He sings. Into objects. Like his hairdryer, straight out of the movies like a weirdo!”

A loud snort caught his attention and Eddie’s gaze snapped to Max who was watching Eddie from the corner of her eyes with a smug, knowing expression. He felt like a deer in headlights suddenly, until Max rolled her eyes and went back to talking to El and Dustin.

“Despite all that, looks like you’re doing pretty well here. And you don’t seem, um, thirsty.” She whispered the last word with a curious quirk to her brow, and Eddie shrugged.

“Got it covered, the last time. You don’t need to worry about me so much, Chris, you’ve got your own stuff to handle.”

“Yeah, okay, my best friend being framed for murder isn’t something to worry about,” she said, rolling her eyes before turning sombre. “Eddie, I’m gonna worry until you’re safe. I hate that I can’t do anything about it.”

Eddie shifted in his seat. He was always uncomfortable with people worrying over him, but it’s not like she was wrong. This was serious, the worst scrape he’d ever been in and he didn’t even know why it was happening in the first place. Dragging a hand down his face, he heaved a sigh and looked down at the floor. “Sorry, Chris. You’re doing enough just by being here.”

Her mouth pursed unhappily, but before she could say anything more, car doors slammed outside once again and Max perked up.

“Steve’s home.”

Before he could react, the door flung open and Steve stood there, his eyes darting across the group. When he caught sight of Chrissy, he sagged. Robin, right behind him, looked ready to fight until she also saw that everyone was fine.

Eddie tracked Steve as he trudged up the stairs without a word. He was smeared all over with dirt, his face grim and tense, but the walkway above obscured him from view before Eddie could get a better read on him. Robin drifted into the living room and curled up into the one empty chair, almost swallowed by the plush cushions. Dustin got up and switched the TV off.

“What happened?” he asked.

“‘Nother werewolf,” Robin said quietly, and the words spread like a shockwave through all of them.

So, Dustin’s plan had worked. The killer struck again, proving that Eddie was innocent, but also that there was someone with a vendetta against werewolves. Steve must’ve had to bury the body too, and that made Eddie’s stomach drop to his feet. With a glance up, he saw Max looking more stormy than usual. She, Robin, and Steve were all in danger, then, more so than Eddie himself was, in his opinion, and now he really understood how Chrissy felt. How could he help them, stuck in this house, unable to go out in the daytime, waiting for the killer’s next move? His hands started to shake, whether it was with fear or anger he couldn’t tell, but he stuck them under his armpits and squeezed, ignoring the way his jaw tensed and his leg started to bounce.

“I’m so sorry, Robin,” Chrissy whispered, and Robin’s head snapped up like she didn’t even realise Chrissy was there, her eyes going wide.

Robin nodded, her surprise quickly eaten away by dread and she murmured a quiet, “Thanks.”

“Were there any new clues?” Dustin asked with an unusual amount of respect.

“Steve and Hopper didn’t find anything, but Jason Carver showed up and said some things. Steve could tell it better but, uh, he should rest. This was… hard on him.”

“Jason?” Chrissy frowned.

“Yeah, I dunno, something about finding the body first but Steve didn’t really wanna talk about it. I think, maybe, we should talk about it in a day or something.” Robin fidgeted with her rings, looking from Chrissy to upstairs to the floor.

Eddie’s eyes were drawn to the upper floor where he could still faintly hear Steve’s heartbeat, the occasional foot fall, like he was pacing but trying to be quiet about it. His lips pursed into a thin, worried line.

“He didn’t tell you anything?” Dustin asked.

Robin gave him an unexpectedly angry look, so Eddie jumped in. “Dustin, man, you’ve been researching all day, give it a break alright?”

“But–”

“Push it and I’ll tell Jeff to kill off your beloved little warlock next session.”

Dustin’s eyes narrowed, but Eddie’s serious tone must’ve gotten through to him because all he did was huff and cross his arms.

“Maybe we should go,” El said, looking upstairs now too.

“I can’t drive, and Eddie can’t until tonight.”

“Shouldn’t leave at all, probably,” Eddie added dourly.

“I can drive you.” Everyone turned to Chrissy. “I’ve got my mom’s station wagon. It’s no trouble.”

Eddie nudged Chrissy with his knee. “You sure you wanna handle these gremlins?” he teased.

“I’ll keep him in line,” Max smirked while Dustin pouted.

Dustin crossed his arms and tilted his head back imperiously. “Eddie said grem-lins, plural, Maxine.”

“You’re pushing it, nerd.”

Robin stood in a sudden flurry of movement. “Okay! Better get all of you gremlins home before Chrissy decides to take back her very generous offer. Come on, shoes on, chop chop!” She clapped her hands in a way that Eddie intrinsically knew came from Steve, and the kids all stood and started towards the door for their shoes.

El, though, stopped beside Eddie. “Can you thank Steve for having us over for us please?” She said it so seriously, so earnestly, that Eddie swore his heart grew two sizes.

“Of course kiddo.” He reached out and ruffled her long hair, and she giggled while leaning away.

When Chrissy got up to leave, Eddie joined her, wrapping her in another hug before she left. “Thanks for taking everyone home.”

She shrugged. “It’s something I can do, at least. And, well, maybe Robin can tell me a little more about what Steve might’ve said about Jason. I’m… I’m really worried, Eddie.”

“I know Chris. I’m sorry.” He squeezed her a little tighter. “We’ll figure it out.”

With the brats corralled, Eddie waved them off from the shade of the doorway. Robin gave him a short, awkward wave, a blush over her cheeks when Chrissy put her hand on the back of her seat to back out of the driveway, and Eddie filed that away for another time. Then he shut the door against the sunlight and returned to the now eerily silent house.

It was something he noticed the longer he stayed here. When Steve was away at work, Eddie left to his own devices, all he had to do was read the books he’d brought, maybe snoop around for some others, plunk away at his guitar and fill the silence with the old records that the Harringtons left to collect dust. But even with the music playing, the house seemed to absorb noise, like a museum. And there were barely any signs of life, except for the occasional bit of mess that Steve left around when he ran out of time in the mornings. Everything that Steve left alone: the whole dining room, entire guest rooms, even the hallways seemed to eat noise and repel clutter that showed anyone lived there, even Steve.

Eddie had, admittedly, snuck into Steve’s room once or twice. He’d left the door open, what was a curious, bored vampire expected to do? There, thankfully, was some personality, though the awful plaid wallpaper did its best to drown it out. The messed up bed that Steve couldn’t be bothered to fix up, a few clothes scattered by his hamper, some magazines–sports, mostly, and some gossip mags, to Eddie’s disappointment–piled on his nightstand. He didn’t bother poking around in any drawers, didn’t want to risk moving too much in case Steve caught on and got miffed.

What did Steve even do in this house all alone? What did he do before he had to cohabitate with Eddie, who, he would readily and sometimes proudly admit about himself, was a rather irritating guest at times. Eddie kinda hated thinking about it too hard.

But right now, the silence was disturbed, just barely. Eddie could still hear the pacing above.

He was torn. Something in Eddie wanted to check on him, but Steve hadn’t come down to even speak to the kids. He would’ve heard them leaving. Would he even want the nosy freeloader in his house knocking at his door?

His feet started to move towards the stairs before he even decided. Each stair he climbed, he tried convincing himself that he was just heading to his own room–not his room, the guest room, nothing in this place was his, jesus–but he passed the door that he should have stopped at. Kept going to the end of the hall, and the pacing stopped.

“Hey, uh, Steve?” Eddie knocked on the doorframe, even though it was completely unnecessary. “You alright in there?”

No response. Eddie could hear Steve’s heart, racing too fast to be mistaken for calm. A few seconds passed. A few more.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbled. Turning, he was about to walk back to his room when the door opened.

“It’s fine.”

Steve had one hand on the door, the other hanging limp at his side. He was still covered in dirt; smelled like it too, fresh soil and sweat, and something distinctly off and Eddie had to fight wrinkling his nose at. It made Steve look pale, and Eddie felt that was wrong. Steve was built for the sun, for being golden, he shouldn’t look pale.

“You should shower, dude,” Eddie said, trying to a rueful smile, but the humour didn’t land. Steve just shrugged it off.

“I guess. I will.” He turned and wandered back into his room, leaving the door open, and Eddie couldn’t find a reason not to follow. It felt enough like an invitation. Walking in, he tried to make it seem like he was seeing the bedroom for the first time, but Steve scoffed.

“I know you’ve been in here, Eddie, I could smell you in here when I got home once, you don’t have to put on an act.”

Eddie stiffened. “Oh. Uh. Sorry dude.”

“Whatever. I kind of expected it.”

“That’s a lot of trust you’re placing in the resident drug dealer.”

Steve shot him an unimpressed look. “You sell weed, Eddie,” he said flatly. Wobbling his head, Eddie mouthed the words back at Steve silently, mockingly, which finally drew a tired laugh from him. It wasn’t the kind of laughter he could get after verbally tearing Frank Sinatra to shreds while they got high on the living room floor, but it was good enough. The sound didn’t last, though, fading like every other sound in this fucking house, leaving a gaping silence where they both stood awkwardly, a few scant feet between them.

Eddie shifted on his feet, stuck his hands in his pockets then took them out and folded his arms over his chest. Meanwhile, he watched Steve, who couldn’t look up from the carpet. “You probably don’t want me lingering around in your domicile, so I’ll just–”

“Are you thirsty?”

Now that, that rang out through the room. “What?”

“You spent all day around the kids, and you haven’t fed since, uh, since last time when everyone was around.” Steve finally looked up from the carpet, something burning in his eyes.

“Nah, I’m fine, pretty good actually,” Eddie stumbled out.

“You said you fed from Chrissy every few days though.”

Truth was, Eddie was hungry. It was sort of an ever-present thing, though easy to manage once he’d learned how to sate it in a way that actually satisfied him. And yeah, it had been a few days since he’d bitten Steve’s wrist, but the way Steve acted around him the next day–flighty and awkward, not sticking around in the same room too long–made Eddie less than inclined to ask for more.

“I can deal, Harrington, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine.” Steve started walking closer. There was a determination, a heat, in his gaze that made Eddie feel a little warm and jumpy, and he started backing up. “You should be in peak condition if something happens. And I–”

Steve reached out behind Eddie and closed the door, Eddie having to back up against it, trapping them both in the horribly plaid room that Eddie couldn’t even see, because Steve was right there, in his space, so close Eddie could feel the warmth radiating from his body. Steve’s arm was still outstretched, hand pressed against the door by Eddie’s head.

“I want you to.”

Heat flashed under Eddie’s skin, his sluggish heart beating faster. “What the fuck do you mean, man?”

“I mean.” Steve ran a head through his hair, messing it up worse, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “It makes me feel good–better. The bite. And, you gotta drink, so it’s like. Win-win or whatever.”

“Win-win?” Eddie said, high and nervy, “The hell? How does it make you feel good?”

“Just, please?”

His voice sent a lance of desire and hunger through Eddie’s spine. Steve’s face looked haggard, dirt caked into every worryline, but something burned in his eyes, something needy, and he was so fucking close they were sharing breath. Eddie could see the blood coursing through his neck, the artery so close to the skin, and he must’ve stared long enough, hesitated enough, that it spurred Steve on. He deliberately pulled down the collar of his shirt and tilted his head to the side, baring his long, freckled neck to Eddie.

That desperate, unnatural hunger that had haunted Eddie since he woke up on a cold forest floor in Chrissy’s arms, ever-present and voracious, grew like arousal in Eddie’s gut. Saliva pooled under his tongue and, unbidden, his teeth began to elongate as his gaze locked onto that pulsing rush tantalisingly close to his face. The longer he looked, the faster Steve’s heart raced, the more tempting he was, the warm scent of his heightened emotions wafting into the air like wine and pulling Eddie closer.

Just a taste, he promised himself.

Eddie let one of his hands wrap around the back of Steve’s neck, fingers threading through his soft hair, while he grabbed the hand Steve was using to hold the shirt down, pulling it further out of the way. One last glance at Steve’s face, and Eddie saw his eyes had gone heavy-lidded, his mouth dropping open just slightly when Steve caught sight of Eddie’s fangs. Cocking one eyebrow, he tilted his head further, into Eddie’s waiting palm, trusting he’d be held, and Eddie couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

He surged forward, and bit into Steve’s neck. The first gush of rich, metallic blood made Eddie groan and Steve gasp. Instinct made Eddie bite harder, deeper, his teeth sinking without resistance into flesh and muscle. Eddie’s fingers clenched where they held Steve, pressing him flush against his own body. Steve didn’t even flinch, seeming to arch into the touch, panting. His skin flushed; Eddie could feel the flood of warmth down Steve’s neck from his face as it bloomed against Eddie’s cheek.

Feeling bold and ravenous, Eddie withdrew from Steve’s neck to manhandle him against the door instead, slamming him against it with a bang and pressing against the long line of his body before licking up the rivulets dripping from the punctures. The soft oh he drew from Steve felt as intoxicating as his blood. Clinging to Steve like he was, Eddie didn’t feel his hands move until Steve’s fingers dug into his side, keeping Eddie close.

Steve’s free hand clutched Eddie’s, the one resting on the unmarred side of his neck, twining their fingers together and squeezing, and Eddie’s breath hitched as he squeezed back. He laved the flat of his tongue over the wounds before pressing his lips around them in an open-mouthed kiss and sucked, drawing a fresh flood to the surface. The taste was fucking addictive. Something lurked in Steve’s blood that made the most base, monstrous parts of Eddie sing and snarl with greed, something heated and needy.

It clicked, when Steve’s hand roved down. Grabbed Eddie’s ass though his jeans to hold him still while Steve rocked his hips up, his hard dick brushing against Eddie’s own and making them both moan. And oh shit, Eddie was so hard it was painful.

That taste was desire, hormone-spiked blood, more potent than any drug or liquor Eddie’s ever had. The instant he placed it, he knew he wanted more. More blood, more of Steve. He met the next roll of hips with a reedy whimper, muffled against Steve’s neck as he still drank deeply of that heady taste, let Steve’s hand guide him this time, enjoying the thrill of being led. Until.

“Fuck, Eddie,” Steve groaned, low but loud in Eddie’s ear, and reality crashed down around him.

Eddie shoved himself off of Steve, ripping himself out of his grasp and pressing the back of his hand to his blood-stained mouth. Wide, panicked eyes met Steve’s, still heavy-lidded and dark but growing confused. God, what a vision he was as he leaned against the door, gasping for breath and hard in his jeans, flushed deliciously red despite being drank from like a fucking juice box. It was… it was terrifying. Fear sparked and caught in Eddie’s chest. What the fuck was he thinking!?

Brows furrowed, Steve stepped forward. “Eddie? What is it?”

“Shit.”

Eddie bolted. Dodged past Steve, whipped the door open and ran to the guest room as fast as his unnatural speed let him. He slammed the door behind himself and braced against it, scared that Steve would try to bust it down as soon as he came to his senses. And he would. There was no fucking way Eddie could get away with that.

He knew his bite did something. Chrissy had tried to do research for him, but couldn’t find much without Jason catching on, but she’d told him the bite makes prey less likely to fight back. But she’d only ever relaxed, like getting high, not–not like Steve trying to rub one out on him. Not like moaning Eddie’s name while they were so close together Eddie could still feel how it rumbled in his own chest.

Anxiously, Eddie licked his lips and only tasted Steve, wincing at how that made his cock throb against his zipper. “Shit,” he whispered shakily. A manic laugh threatened to bubble up but he swallowed it back.

That was so stupid. All of it. He should’ve realised as soon as Steve asked to be bitten again that something wasn’t normal about this and put a stop to it. Could’ve called Chrissy; she was coming by tomorrow anyway. Now he had to worry about Steve kicking him out and forcing him to walk home with the murderer still at large. The one who fucking framed him, for a reason none of them have discovered yet. He let his head fall back against the door with a hollow thud, and waited.

Minutes passed, then hours. The sun began to set, and Eddie found himself anxiously pacing around the room, packing his duffel bag then unpacking it, his clothes strewn out of it like a racoon had rifled through them all and found his wardrobe lacking. Yet through his own chaos, Eddie couldn’t stop himself from keeping an ear out for Steve.

He hadn’t left his room, not once. Sometimes he paced, and Eddie caught the occasional frustrated huff. When Steve’s habit of talking to himself kicked in, Eddie resolutely ignored it–meaning, of course, that he listened anyway but felt deeply guilty about it. But nothing he heard made any logical sense. “What did I do?” spat as a frustrated whisper was the most baffling, but Eddie refused to contemplate that it might mean anything other than Steve wondering how he’d gotten suckered into bumping clothed uglies with The Freak.

So Eddie paced and unpacked and re-packed and stewed over the countless stupid life choices he’d made to bring him to this moment until the sun was well beyond the horizon and his hair was a frizzy mess with how often he’d been digging his fingers into it. The carpet, shockingly, didn’t show a single dent with all the trudging around he’d done.

Simultaneously wiped out and still wound up, Eddie flopped onto the bed with an explosive sigh and slapped his palms over his face, grunting loudly. If Steve was debating whether he would kick Eddie out or not, he’d rather Steve get on with it and put him out of his misery before the sun came up. He didn’t want to burn to a crisp before he got to see Wayne again.

“Fuck it,” came another irritated whisper from Steve’s room. Eddie braced himself for stomping down the hall, for Steve ripping the door open, furious, demanding that Eddie leave. Instead, he heard bed springs squeak. It took little effort for him to listen closer, frowning in confusion.

Then, Eddie heard the quiet zip of jeans being undone, and shuffling. A relieved sigh.

What?

Was Steve doing what Eddie thought he was doing? There was no way. No fucking way. Sure, Eddie had been staving off the raging hormones he’d drank straight from Steve’s veins all night with little success, hoping he’d burn through them with his pacing and ignoring how he’d been half-hard for most of it. Steve had to have crashed from the high by now.

And yet. There was a hitched breath from behind the two doors separating them. Eddie swallowed, and dragged his hands down his face, letting them flop to his sides. This might be Steve’s home, but did he really have to do this now?

Eddie didn’t even want to admit what had happened, not that it helped. With Steve apparently jerking it just down the hall, though, the images rose unbidden behind Eddie’s scrunched eyelids anyway. How the blood flowed slowly over the tendon in Steve’s neck to pool in the divot between his collarbones, the dark desire in his blown-out pupils. The way Steve’s fingers dug into the meat of Eddie’s ass to pull him where Steve wanted, right against his cock.

The sound of Eddie’s name in Steve’s mouth as his lips brushed Eddie’s ear.

He swore soundlessly. Wriggling a little and hissing at the growing tightness in his pants, Eddie sent up prayers to whatever deity was listening to make him Not Horny. No thoughts of old people or relatives or complex dungeon traps could take his mind, or his hearing, off of Steve masturbating quietly just a few feet away. Didn’t he realise that Eddie could hear him? Steve wasn’t the only one with super hearing. It was rude, and terrible hosting behaviour, and–

Steve moaned softly, though it cut off like he knew he might be heard–too fucking late for that–and Eddie wanted to scream in frustration so badly he clamped his hand over his mouth. His dick throbbed, though, at the new sounds echoing his way. Wet, slick sounds.

Fuck. Swallowing down a wave of guilt, Eddie let his hand trail over the bedspread, along his hip, and cupped his dick through his jeans with a shuddery sigh. He bit his lips together to make sure no noises escaped as he squeezed himself. It’d been too long. Out of respect to his werewolf host, he’d hadn’t rubbed one out the whole time he’d been at Steve’s. Steve, apparently, had no such reservations. So…

So why not? Why the hell not. Eddie undid his fly and quietly as he could slipped his cock out, already hard, the tip flushed red. He couldn’t help remembering that he had Steve’s blood in his body now. How he’d tasted. Breathing heavily, Eddie stroked himself, thinking of the way Steve’s plush lips parted, the fire in his eyes as he begged Eddie to bite him… how big his cock felt, though it was trapped in his jeans.

The familiar weight of his own cock twitched in his hand, a spurt of precome dripping down, slicking the way. He could hear how Steve’s heart rate picked up now that he’d given up trying not to listen; now that it, too, had become familiar.

Steve made another sound. A groan, deep in his chest. Eddie’s mouth dropped open with a harsh sigh. He was so fucking turned on. The taboo of listening to Steve get off, jacking off to it, praying Steve couldn’t hear him too, made that frisson under his skin rise and burn so fast Eddie started to feel breathless, wound tight.

He stroked himself faster, hips canting up into his grip, desperate to chase the feeling as he imagined how Steve looked sprawled on his bed with his massive hand wrapped around his cock. Eddie couldn’t help wondering what it’d feel like to have Steve’s hand replace his own and that image made him clamp his mouth shut around a quiet whimper.

Eddie heard Steve swear again, his voice going a little higher, and Eddie found himself nodding, like the other man could see him. He wanted to be seen. Wanted Steve to rush in, see him furiously pumping his dick and know exactly what got him here. Maybe he’d crowd Eddie against the bed and start to take him apart with his long fingers, grind their cocks together, fuck his way inside as they kissed all heated and dirty and chant Eddie’s name–

Steve moaned, then, quiet enough that Eddie almost missed what he said.

“Eddie.”

Shock forced a desperate whine out of Eddie’s throat before he choked it off with a gasp. Oh shit. Oh shit. He froze, could tell Steve had too. Steve heard him. He knew. He felt his heart in his throat, thundering away.

Until he heard it again. A tentative, “Eddie?” from down the hall. Confirming he’d been caught. Why didn’t Steve sound pissed?

There was the distinct click of a cap being opened. Still frozen, Eddie couldn’t believe his ears when he heard Steve start up again, jerking himself off slower now, the sounds slicker, wetter. He… he knew Eddie was listening, could easily guess why Eddie had fucking whined like that, and he was still…

God. Fuck. Oh fuck that was hot. And terrifying. How the hell was this even happening!?

Steve keened, loudly, and Eddie cursed as his hips bucked helplessly into the hand still wrapped around his aching cock. This was insane, absolutely nuts; Eddie had never even thought of something like this despite his expansive and wildly horny imagination. But he followed suit and started fucking into his fist, fast and filthy, past the point of caring that Steve could hear the bed creaking slightly with his movements.

And then Steve did it again. “Fuck, Eddie,” he moaned. Deliberately. Eddie couldn’t hold back the needy cry that rose from his throat, muffled as he bit his lip against the growing pleasure sparking along his nerves. He was gonna come, quickly, felt it barreling closer like a freight train. Steve wasn’t holding back his sounds anymore either, every gasp and groan unconcealed, stroking his cock without any fucking shame.

Eddie was shaking, panting hard, losing his rhythm. Thoughtlessly he started to beg, “Please, please please please.”

“Shit, yeah, do it, c’mon Eddie,” Steve urged, “gonna come too, oh shit!”

Fireworks exploded behind his eyes. Every muscle in Eddie’s body seized as he came, whining so fucking loud as he spilled over his fingers, cum splattering his shirt and soaking in warm and sticky, cock pulsing hard when he heard Steve cry out, a satisfied, guttural thing. Gasping for breath, Eddie went limp on the bed, his mind empty of all thought except for the way Steve moaned his name, how he sounded when he came.

There was no more movement from Steve’s room. Eddie could hear him in there, his breathing evening out along with his heartbeat, but he didn’t get up.

Was he waiting for Eddie? There was no way he’d go over there himself. He was still processing the everything that just happened. What if Steve had still been affected by the bite, and now that he’d gotten it out of his system he regretted literally jacking off with Eddie? More or less.

Eddie’s anxieties swirled through his mind until morning. Steve didn’t leave his room once.

#bee if you see this i'm so sorry i forgot to credit you until now i am a whole ass #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #vamp!eddie #werewolf steve harrington #stranger things #steddiebang #steddiebang23 #steddie big bang #steddie big bang 2023 #hideous thing sbb #sav scrawls stuff

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sagittato · 6 months

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This is my first post and it’s gonna be low effort because I swear I can’t get this off my mind—

Do people from twisted wonderland realize how much Azul Ashengrotto could potentially look up at Vil Schoenhiet??? ONLY @jxnebuggy ACKNOWLEDGES THIS IN HER fem!twst FANFICS AND IT DRIVES ME INSANE!!!

Vil is a successful, confident, drop dead gorgeous fashion icon. He has a whole business for cosmetics because he’s so gorgeous. He’s very skilled in potion making, so much so bro makes his OWN makeup. He has a strict diet he follows and it’s clearly gving him the results he wants. Vil Schoenheit is everything Azul wants to be!! On top of that, Vil is Azul’s bloody UPPERCLASSMAN.

And does everyone forget how Azul literally info dumped about the man in Book 5 Chapter 2?? Nobody talks about it. They’re too busy headcannoning Sebek or Riddle or Floyd to be neurodivergent af (jkjk)!! Such a shame Vil told him to stfu but in his own pretty, 3w4-coded ways😔😔

Azul has shown before he will invest inhumane amounts of time into things he thinks are important. An example of this is in his birthday jackect card, he talked in a fair amount of detail about the quality of the pillow Ace gave him. He could do this because he researched ON pillow qualities.

It’s likely when he was trying to step up his game with success or diet, he stumbled upon Vil, researched the frick out of this guy, and lo and behold became a fan of his.

Some honourable mentions are when he made a deal with Vil in his ceremonial robes. I haven’t seen it because I wanna save the feeling of raw happiness with these two characters interacting once I get the card. If we didn’t see Azul show any sort of fan behaviour when Vil made that deal then I firmly believe he was kicking, giggling, twirling his hair off camera behind closed doors over it. Then I do hear in the second Camp Vargas event, Azul and Vil had some more interactions! I thiiiiiiink they were getting competitive with each other??? That changes nothing from my ignorant eye. It’s NRC. Everyone is really competitive and will turn on each other’s backs faster than Leona can fall asleep (bro’s actually depressed, I swear).

Anyway, I think it’s only right I list my headcanons now for them:

Azul gobbles up any dietary/beauty tips Vil has

Azul uses Vil’s makeup brand that’s probably vegan

He also collects Vil’s magazines and puts them all in a box hidden away in his closet or under his bed

Vil probably finds him annoying💀💀💀 (what can I say? he has a reputation for not stfu around higher class people)

Elaborating on that, Vil does respect his success but I bet he can see the unhealthy greed that lies under it all. Thus, that’s prolly a reason why he would try to distance himself away from Azul.

BADLY wants to collaborate with Vil because Mostro Lounge profits would soar if they did. Knowing his bold arse he probably made the request at least thrice and Vil shut him down each time. He’s obviously not gonna stop because we all know him. (never back down never what—)

Yes, I know he canonically looks up to Ursula, but I think he would like someone… yknow… alive to look up to.

Keep in mind I’m only on Book 5 Chapter 29 as of this moment so it’s totally possible I missed some things! Leave your opinions, headcanons, or anything else in the comments, I’d love to see them! Do leave spolier warnings though. That way I can decide whether I wanna spoil things first myself or not.

EDIT: I already fixed it but did I really just say book 6 😭😭😭 i meant book 5 i am so sry hdgdhjjjdhdjj

#azul ashengrotto #vil schoenheit #i’m procrastinating #the world needs to know how great the azul & vil duo is #first post #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland rant

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chemicalpink · 2 years

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bad idea! | Jeon Jungkook (M)

ੈ✩ Festivaled Away: Daredevil Week hosted by @bangtanbathhouse

⤞ Ticket: Thrill Seeking

⤞ Main Event: A dare

⤞Games: remote vibrator, creampie, pain kink, exhibitionism.

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: smut, light humour, magical realism-ish, vampire au, s2fwb2l

Word Count: 4.8k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: mentions of death in vampire-like fashion, mentions of blood, imprinting unknowingly, alcohol consumption, language, creampie, use of plugs, remote vibrator, pain kink (biting kink, really) exhibitionism.

You try to swiftly laugh at whatever it was that your friend was saying over the loud music that envelops the whole room, the lights are dimmed enough, the flashing blue and red led lights not close to enough to make out the figure that your eyes are transfixed on watching from a distance. It is his party, after all. Jeon Jungkook stands spread along his kitchen counter, most of his body hidden by the darkness that envelops the hallway just behind him, all the more courtesy of his black attire, although you can watch entranced from time to time the way that his lip-piercing catches the light from around the place every time he presses the glass against his lips or he toys with the jewellery in a way that has you wondering if somehow his genes allow him to have better eyesight and is indeed looking right at you as you admire him from afar.

“You know, you could be way more subtle about wanting to eat that man up” you turn back to your friends, feeling how the ice in your drink settles something within you, there’s no actual reason for you to deny the claim as it comes as a secret to none that you have yourself a big enough crush on the vampiric man that has been attending your university for the last two years– a curated sort of infatuation that has everyone else poking and teasing you the longer it goes on.

Vampires weren’t such an odd topic as they once used to be– although relatively new to most. It all just seemed to fall right into place when a few too many of the mos influential families around the globe came out to advocate for such creatures after a particularly loud incident sounded off the alarms across countries. Everyone kind of rolled with it. Years of political mobilisation had ensured that they continued to be functioning parts of society– as they had proven to always have been. Yet the fear was still there. More to some than others. Creatures of the night had always roamed the highest social spheres, which left little to no room to actually encounter one that could be deemed as dangerous enough. Which is just the more reason to be mesmerised by Jeon Jungkook.

The Jeons were a fairly well known family of all-born vampires– mostly respected due to the fear of encountering such creatures, although their fear induced respect had little to do with their origins and more to do with the way they handled most of the country’s politics and economy way before they came out as such creatures. Their youngest, Jungkook, although set on breaking free from such high spheres, had proven to be quite adept on climbing high enough to be where he was in college– a promising student, astounding athlete and an even more exceptional paty thrower. As this one time he was proven to be.

“I dare you to get in Count Dracula’s pants” your– fairly drunk– friend whisper-yells into your ear.

Your gaze can’t seem to let go of Jungkook’s every move, pondering her words for a bit. Jungkook is not exactly known for his aversion to humans– yet he isn’t quite the player every other person that hasn’t quite crossed paths with the vampire make him to be. You can’t actually recall ever hearing about him casually hooking up after all the time he has been around. He seems to be private like that aside from the times he’s hosted the most grandiose parties off campus– and even then, he isn’t quite known for his welcoming aura, rather separated from the ordeal by the shadows he decides to keep himself hidden within. What the whispered voices do say and you could attest for yourself is the undubious way that being in near proximity to said man can leave your blood running cold. A testament of just how much power he holds within, it’s a predator thing– one of your few friends in common had mentioned in passing.

Whatever conversation your friends were having seems to have downed out the blurt of such a dare, at least until you feel your heart pounding against your chest as you utter your answer “...challenge accepted”

“Y/N I was just joking”

It is then that you rip your sight from the man, opting to let it linger around your group of friends, trying to somewhat appease the deafening silence your words had caused, “But wouldn’t it be amazing?”

“We have never heard of it happening– wouldn’t want you to end up in a ditch because of a drink-induced dare” Another of your friends is quick to note, drink still in hand, but all the more sobered up as she ponders the thought of it.

One of your more drunk friends is quick to find the humour within it, “I don’t think dude has gotten laid since the 1600s”

“Yeah, can vampires even get it up if- you know- they’re technically dead”

“Oh they totally can!” Hoseok– the only friend in common you have traced between Jungkook and yourself makes his way to where you guys were standing and is quick to drap himself all over your friends’ shoulders, face flushed with the drinks he’s had “What are we talking about?”

“Y/N bedding Jeon Jungkook”

That seems to do it for the smiley man, choking on his drink, sobering up in a second before a stoic demeanour takes over his face “You do know there’s a reason we haven’t heard of Jungkook’s hookups right?”

“No I don’t” blame it on the few drinks you’ve had or the way that the thought of a distant possibility of sleeping with the man had installed in your brain, it was indeed quite a feat to not hear a word about it on such a campus “But I can certainly find out”

“Y/N, Jeon Jungkook is a born predator. And one of the strongest ones out there– we’re talking top of the chain here”

“Now you guys are just trying to scare the living shit out of me” you roll your eyes, trying to ease the tensiona round you, sipping your drink once more and wishing you had just kept the acceptance of such a challenge to yourself instead of voicing it out loud “What’s so wrong about wanting to try and get dicked down by a vampire? Worst case scenario-”

“-Worst case scenario you end up sprawled open on my bed, isn’t that right, doll?” Jungkook’s voice drowns out whatever other noise. You can’t help the chill that runs down your spine as he walks past you, parting your small group of friends in order to be let through, the cold running through your veins, the way it all seems to concentrate down and have you clenching against air. You hadn’t even heard him coming– nevertheless seen him. And he’s gone just like that, black attiure blending with the rest of the surroundings. His words hanging in the air sounding like a promise to your ears.

A collective breath is let out once the vampire is out of sight and Hoseok is the first to speak after it “GOD THAT MAN MOVES LIKE THE DEAD”

“...he is dead- technically, I think”

“Shut up, look at how my hairs are standing!” he is quick to show his bare arm out for everyone to see in a quite dramatic feat, raising his glass your way “It was nice knowing you, Y/N”

Things go back to quite a normal pace even as the thought back to the dare doesn’t quite leave your mind– the way that Jungkook had approached you back then, something akin to a promise leaving the tip of his tongue, the chills that run through your whole body at the thought of him having heard all the entirety of your conversation. Of him being fully aware of your intentions. If your hand caresses your whole naked body at night as images of said man pinning you against the wall, ravishing in your taste, flood your mind, then there’s not much else to do about it. Even as you think you can watch a rather teasing smirk taking over the vampire’s features everytime you two so much as cross paths around campus, your eyes lingering on his hands and lips a beat too long as you imagine the infinite possibilities and outcomes of such an affair. Your friends would be quick to write it off as you imagining things.

You were walking down the street back to your dorm after quite a late running class. The weather had started to run on the colder side, so you can’t really blame yourself for carrying on walking down the street as if nothing was wrong. The small alleyway was sure to provide a shorter path to get to your building, even if it was poorly lit and come to think of it, wasn’t probably the greatest idea while being by yourself. You can’t help but pick out an out of the way sound surrounding you– curiosity getting the best of you as you make your way carefully towards the struggling noises seem to come from behind an adjacent street– even darker than the one you walked in.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, blood pumping into your ears and you’re certain your body had frozen if the way that your feet refuse to move even as you intentionally see yourself fleeing the scene is any indication of it. Inside said alleyway, none other than Jeon Jungkook has his face pressed neatly in the juncture between neck and shoulder of a girl you can almost swear you’d seen on campus before, her body lax against him, his eyes a crimson colour as they briefly catch yours before diving back in. It’s like time had frozen right there and then, a need to run away as fast as your feet could take you, scream at the top of your lungs– yet none of this is happening. There is, of course, no denying the way your mind also wanders off to imagine yourself in the girl’s place, the usual warmth in your lower belly present after such thoughts. After what seems like ages– which might have been closer to mere seconds, you finally move as quietly as possible down the other side of the road, intending on forgetting all about it– making do as if you hadn’t just answered your own doubts about not seeing the vampire mingle with humans ever.

“Leaving so soon, doll?” You brain can’t fathom whatever physics necessary to explain the way that you had just turned your head from watching the man feed, to having him stand tall and proud infront of you, blocking the way, velvet eyes amusedly looking into you.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about” you hang your head low, ignoring the impeding thoughts about what you had heard before about getting a glimpse of a feeding vampire– after new laws were instated, even as vampires weren’t such an off item around town, feeding was meant to be a much more intimate almost contractual thing. Even more so, almost unheard of as such creatures had access to a hundred other ways of feeding that required less of the human contact they seem to so much as despise. Legend had it, that no mere human could ever go on and about if they were to catch a glimpse of a feeding vampire. Not only had you caught a vampire feeding, but had you also recognised the human along with said vampire being none other than top of the hierarchy Jeon Jungkook. Yet you try to play it safe and ignorant for as long as you are allowed to, even as your whole body freezes as he catches your elbow when you try and move past him in a haste.

“I’m sure you know I can’t just let you walk away after what you’ve seen, darling”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’m just walking home after class and you bumped into me” you try your best to keep your tone steady, even as deep down you are pretty much aware that the man knows you’re bullshitting him.

“Huh. I’ll still keep my eyes on you, Y/N” Jungkook squints his eyes as a smirk draws on his handsome face “Safe way home, doll”

“Well- not that it is any news but you look like you’ve seen better days” you plop down to the place where your friends were gathered in, extra large coffee in hand as your brain still struggles to comprehend the events of last night.

Hoseok’s voice is heard a few seconds before he even appears in your line of sight “So I’ve heard…things”

“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but if it involves Jeon Jungkook and I last night, it did not happen”

One of your friends lets out a shriek that has most people around turning their heads in your direction “So do vampires really can get it up?”

“I am still not sure about the logistics of it- how does it even happen, do they use the blood they drink or-”

A deadly look their way is enough to shut them up, Hoseok’s stoic expression back as he shoos the rest of your friend group away “Listen Y/N, Jungkook is a nice guy, I love the guy to pieces but-”

“He could harm me if he wanted to, I get that Hobi, I really do”

“...I don’t think he wants to” even after having just hung around the man for a short period of time you’re able to tell he is keeping things to himself– which you can only guess makes enough sense, him and Jungkook had been friends since way before the younger joined campus. “Look Y/N, just think things over, I wouldn’t want to see you or Jungkook harmed in any way”

You can’t help but chuckle at that. The mere thought of it enough to have you cackling, worst case scenario, Jeon Jungkook ends up with his heart broken, you would lose so much more than a few emotional struggles. “I’m not even sure I’ll go through with the dare anymore”

“Good. Just take care of yourself, Y/N” Your eyes seem to gravitate towards the table that was calling Hoseok over, the head of the table– Jeon Jungkook. His eyes seem to linger on yours for a few seconds before he turns to greet his friend with a smile. Perhaps it is yourself that is making things harder than they should be.

“Jane Eyre, a classic, I’m more of a Jane Austen guy though” you feel yourself freeze at the velvety voice behind you, as he hands you the book you had previously tried to get from a top shelf– you ahdn’t even sensed him coming, although that is not much news anymore, a chill running down your spine before it settles as heat in your lower side. There’s something more than a try at being friendly in the way he seems to examine your every move– almost vigilante.

You try your best to collect yourself, clearing your throat as you settle in one of the far left couches, hidden in between the large library collection “Late night study session?”

“Late night session alright, just of more…appeasing endeavours” his words, matched with the way his eyes settle on your neck, lips, back at your eyes, smirk wide enough to show off his sharpened canines before he reaches to take your hand in his, in less than a second his lips pressed to the back of it, quickly turning it to expose your wrist, nipping lightly at the skin “I’m watching you, doll”

“Iced americano, extra large” his breath tickles your ear as his arm reaches out to place the cup in front of you, next to your open notebook. You can’t even see him– quite unnecessary, for the way that you’re growing accustomed to him showing up just like that. His lips playfully graze the back of your exposed neck, going so much as far with a nip to the sensitive skin and you can feel yourself get heated at the action “Always watching you, dearest”

The man is gone before you can even turn yourself around.

Finals week soon ends just around the corner, a playful invitation with a side of lips too close to your neck, the idea of getting bitten along with a teasing threat makes their way to you. One of the most infamous house parties of Jeon Jungkook, finals season detox party. The music is blasting through the speakers as you find yourself straying far from everyone else enjoying the various activities and alcohol selection, in search for a particular vampire around the room. You have yet to accept to yourself the way each interaction you have with the man has made it harder and harder to stay away, even so much as a glimpse of his existence as if it weighs you down, keeps your reality in check, the thrill of it, the way your body reacts on its own at having such a predator on the back of your heels at all times of the day, an addictive sort of prey dance around imminent danger.

You can swear you watch him walk down the corridor– a place that doesn’t seem to be open to the general public, not that there’s any need for it, with the way that the rest of the house is enormous and accessible to all for a good time. Your back is turned to the party, heart pounding, expectant eyes trying to find him.

“Jungkook has always liked to toy around with his food, you know” a soft gravely voice speaks from behind you, cat-like eyes string back at you as the man reclines against a countertop, dark red liquid hitting his lips from the wine glass he holds in his hand.

You pull a hand up to your heart, a friendly facade on as you expect not to get in trouble for snooping around as the man clearly seems to be one of Jungkook’s friends “Oh god, you scared me!”

“Funny, with the way you keep placing yourself like a dangling piece of meat above a famished lion”

“Yoongi hyung, stop trying to scare my guests with vampire talk, I think Hoseok hyung was looking for you” your body now truly tenses up at the voice, his hands travelling to hold you by your waist and you can’t help the million of contradicting feelings it explodes within you. The heat. The freezing touch. Your brain screaming at you to get away from his hold. Something greater begging you to stay. The man– Yoongi, simply shrugs before walking away “I keep forgetting what curious little creatures you humans are”

“I was just looking for-”

“-Me, I know, irresistable” “How fragile you humans are and so- delectable. You must have found it so hard to stay away after that night, Y/N”

“W-what?”

“The way your body falls pliant with a simple touch of mine” “The sleepless nights you’ve spent trying to reach an orgasm that doesn’t come while thinking about me” “The absolutely delicious way you smell right now, I could eat you whole, wouldn’t you love that, doll?”

He turns to look back at the party before taking your hand in his and tug you back down the corridor he had previously came out from. You can still quite distinctly hear everyone from the party as a moan makes it way past your lips once his lips connect to your jaw, if anyone were to be standing where you had previously been, you’re sure they would be able to hear you. Two of his fingers find their way into your panties, expertly parting your lips and collecting your wetness in them just to spread it over your clit, circling it a few times before he retreats them back out, digits glistening even in the dark, your knees buckling as you heard him choke back a moan as he licks them clean, not wasting another second to capture your lips in his, tasting yourself briefly before you see his eyes glistening crimson, head diving in to faintly puncture the skin there, enough for you to let out a hiss that has him chuckling.

Jungkook shuffles to get something out of his pocket, a small pill-like object that he brings to your lips, your tongue circling around the piece as you coat it with saliva, bringing a delightful look to his face as soon enough you hear the motions of the toy vibrating against his fingers, working his way to press it against your clit and you can’t help but clench around nothing, feeling yourself get wetter by the second as he settles the activated toy in place “Be a good pet and try not to get caught, if you’re as deserving as I suspect you are, we’ll have some more fun” the kiss he plants on your lips surely contradicts his actions almost giving you whiplash “Don’t let any other vampires take you from me, you know how we all can smell how heavenly wet you are, doll”

You take a few deep breaths as your body grows accustomed to the feeling of the small vibrator, collecting yourself to whatever game Jungkook was playing, unable to stray any further now that you had had a taste of it.

“Y/N! Where have you been? We’ve been looking for you” Hoseok’s voice is surely a call down to Earth– at least for the whole five seconds it lasts.

“I was just-” you bite your lips to stop the impeding whine that threatens to elave your mouth as you feel the vibrations get stronger for a fraction of a second, the man hanging off of Hoseok– cat-like eyes, Yoongi, lets out a gummy smile and a laugh even as Hoseok surely looks terrified “I’m okay”

“I’d say you’re better than just okay, Y/N”

“Oh? You’ve met each other?”

You can only hum as you feel the pressing of the vibrations take up speed only to be let go and repeat one after the other, clenching yourself to minimise the impact only has you furthering the pleasure.

Yoongi sniffs and turns to look at you with a shit eating grin “We had a talk about playing with your food”

Hoseok surely looks as confused as he could be, not be let into the joke “I’ll just pretend that wasn’t the weirdest sentence I’ve heard in a while” he takes your arm in his, dragging you to an extended version of your group of friends– people you know to be part of Jungkook’s most exclusive clique along with the devil himself resting against a wall– vigilante as ever, hand inside the pocket of his pants, amused smile on his face and all “Anyways, this is Y/N everyone”

You try your best to bow in greeting, not before sensing a spike in the vibrator enough to have you gushing, surely ruining your panties further. You can’t help but watch equal parts horrified and even more turned on as a few too many eyes flash crimson red at the same time it happens. You know how we all can smell how heavenly wet you are, doll. Jeon Jungkook better be worth all the talk.

It’s a few minutes, a lot of knee buckling and seemingly starving vampires growing feistier by the second after, that Jungkook deems reasonable to walk away, signalling you to follow him down the corridor– not once looking back to make sure you were following him.

One of his hands cup the side of your neck, pressing down nicely as soon as you both enter what must be his bedroom, his enlarged canines tracing the side of your exposed neck, nipping harder at the base, enough to have you wriggling against him– the small toy still nestled in between your legs. His hands are quick to work you out of your clothes, tossing them anywhere around the room– to which he hadn’t even bothered to close the door for. His fingers toy with your pantie-clothed pussy, ravishing in the way that they stick to your skin, heightening the efforts of the toy as he presses down harder before deeming it enough teasing and taking the toy out, replacing it with his fingers, digits curling against your walls as his palm stimulates your clit, having you somewhat ride his hand, lips finding their way down your torse until they latch to one of your nipples, sucking it, his tongue drawing circles against it before moving onto the next one. Jungkook works his way down, nibbling at the expanse of your torso, surely leaving marks in his haste until he reaches your cunt, spreading your folds open before lapping up your wetness and you can feel yourself clenching on air as his tongue circles your bundle of nerves. One of his hands travels down to tease your ring of muscle, lubed up and ready to prod at it as the other one holds you steadily up for a better access.

You feel yourself getting a familiar heat in your belly as Jungkook halts his movements, lips against your inner thigh, scraping the skin with his teeth, skin puncturing and drawing blood at the same time as you feel a lubed up toy entering your tight muscle, a few knee jerks to help settle the feeling of having something up your ass while the discomfort washes away with the feeling of Jungkook feeding from you, even the slightest bit, before his tongue travels all the way back to your neck, shuddering voice against your ear “Just relax yourself for me and enjoy the ride, doll”

Sure enough, Jungkook is quick to stroke himself once out of his pants, cock out and standing prettily against him, the tip just barely grazing your folds, collecting your juices before lining himself up against your hole, the mere entrance of his member along with the plug pressed snuggly inside, enough to have you working towards climax. His movements are languid yet deep enough to hear a crack from his bed every now and then, your hands in between his hair, pulling it nicely, toes curling against his lower back in an attempt to push him further in, keep him there for a little while longer. His thrust pick up pace as soon as you start clenching around him, eyes flashing red before he hides his face in your neck, an overwhelming sensation leaving you whimpering loudly, legs shaking as you feel him release inside you shortly after you feel the way his fangs break skin, suckling noises against you, tongue lapping the wound closed, eyes droopy even as you feel yourself coming another time as he stands back to watch your ruined self sprawled open on his bed– collecting every drop of his that threatens to leave you, pushing it all inside with softer thrusts, coming up with another plug out of thin air to keep as much of it inside.

It surely would have been of great use to find out it would take your more or less a whole twelve hours to get your mind in check as the aphrodisiac from his bite and his come leave your system. If Jungkook leaves his mysteriously stoic persona in favour of staying by your side, neither one of your friends– or his, can say it came as much of a surprise.

BONUS.

“What the actual fuck, Jungkook?” he had just casually dropped the bomb of the nature of your relationship, all while placing an extra large cup of iced americano right in front of you, citing vampire stuff along the lines of never being able to get rid of him.

“Yeah well-”

“Are you shitting me?”

He smiles that smile that has you weak to the knees, bunny teeth and all “If I had said hey so now you’re stuck with me for a lifetime because I imprinted on you you would have ran away on the spot”

“Clearly” just as you’re about to never let him hear the end of it, one of your friends starts calling you over with motions from the other side of the road, you turn to look at the time on your phone, noticing how you were already a few minutes too late for class “This conversation isn’t over yet”

He leans back to capture your lips on his with a sweet peck before you’re rushing down the path “Love you, doll”

“So I take it you’re definitely not telling her that you actually imprinted on her when you first met her and then went around like a kicked puppy trying to get her to notice you for years?” Jungkook can’t help but roll his eyes as he watches Yoongi standing idly next to the spot you had just vacated, a teasing smile on his face.

“Shut up, hyung”

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