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ilykaveh · 1 year

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ꨄ︎ . ⋆ MOONLIGHT SONATA !

thoma.

ABOUT: unknowingly summoning a demon has its consequences. you have to hold up your end of the bargain one way or another...

CONTENT: demon ! thoma , sub fem reader , humping, virginity loss, monsterfucking, possessiveness, corruption , cunnilingus, size kink, dp, praise, overstimulation, multiple rounds, dacryphilia, rough towards the end, gaping, breeding, squirting.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

being from a small fishing town just outside of liyue harbour had its difficulties. life was simple, unexciting - you envied the tales you’d heard of women in the city, spending evenings at lavish restaurants and having grandiose tea parties with guest lists containing a plethora of personalities.

times were especially hard when the bounties from the sea remained scarce, meaning that the exports were low. everybody was becoming increasingly stressed, some even moving away to seek financial growth in some other sectors of teyvat. village elders began to find themselves in ill health, the stress wearing away at them. it was a sorry sight, one you no longer wished to perceive.

whilst taking a late night walk along the nearby river, something glittering upon the riverbed caught your eye. it was buried under a pile of seaweed, loose mud obscuring it ever so slightly. it took a moment to shake the item free, untangling it from nature’s grasp and discovering what you recognized as a drifting bottle, containing a withered note and a rusty old coin. you dunked the body of the bottle in the shallow stream, admiring how the moonlight reflected off of the object. there was something alluring about it, and if you squinted you were sure you could see the faint glow that it emitted - reminiscent of a halo, though that would turn out to be ironic further down the line. . .

upon returning home, you started to better inspect the bottle, illuminated by the candlelight of your kitchen table. there was no indication that water had seeped past the cork, though the scroll of paper inside seemed to have aged. just how long had this been at sea for?

the cork slid out with a single tug; something that was strange considering how tightly it had appeared to be in there. you retrieved the note with the same amount of ease, carefully unravelling it to reveal a what you couldn’t distinguish as being a message or more concerningly, a warning:

“may those whom this bottle graces forever be blessed,

and be gifted benevolence in his behest;

one summon will gift you just this, so strap in! and

for as long as you live, good things will always happen.”

you read the short poem over a few times, unsure of what to make of it. sure, you’d heard tales of spirit summoners and their adventures, though had always assumed they were simply make believe, a story utilized by adults in order to haunt or encourage a child’s imagination. it was a struggle to believe that a key to your success, a tool seeming to claim that it possessed the ability to bring greatness back to the village, had fallen right into your lap.

even if you did want to test the waters and try your hand at summoning whichever entity is referring to, you didn’t know how to go about it. all you had received was a measly note lacking decipherable detailing - for all that you knew, it could merely be a tease, a bottle set adrift by some teenagers hoping to mess with an unsuspecting traveler.

not in the mood to further entertain such childish thoughts, you moved to grasp the bottle once again, wishing to shake the coin out of it. perhaps you could sell it to a merchant and fetch a decent price on the thing.

confusion consumed you as you found that the coin was already resting on the table next to the withered note. surely you would remember taking it out. . . right?

shrugging it off as becoming increasingly sleepy, you picked up the coin to inspect it slightly, flipping it in the air and catching it in a fist. it once again caught the light in an eerie manner, but you let it sit on the table and headed off to bed regardless, leaving the bottle and its contents to be dealt with in the morning.

. . .

in all honesty, you’d forgotten about the bottle. you’d had a peaceful night, more so than usual. mornings began with your usual routine, finding yourself brewing a cup of coffee when interrupted by an uproar of noise from inside the village.

flinging the front door open haphazardly, mug still in hand, you went to further investigate the commotion. it seemed as though the early morning fishing boats had already returned, and you instantly feared the worst, especially when taking into account the declining health of many of the town’s fishermen. a crowd had gathered at the docks, and your initial thoughts became immediately disproven.

the smell of fish was one that you were used to, albeit it seemed stronger than you had ever known. the closer that you got to the boats, the more fish that came into your line of vision. compared to the scarcities that the village had been facing, you were astonished that they’d returned with such an unbelievable amount! surely this would keep everybody fed for a week, along with being enough to trade for some serious mora!

it was only then that your mind began to wander back to the bottle that you’d found; surely these two events were mere coincidences. . . right? perhaps it was simply a blessing from the archons, and nothing more. you recalled tales of entities from another world whom blessed to the regular folk of teyvat before then demanding an astounding price in return.

the thought of being indebted to such a creature shook you slightly, an uneasy feeling settling in your stomach. you did your best to attempt to ration with these negative thoughts, instead reminding yourself that such stories were simply old wive’s tales passed down generation to generation in order to teach their young that they shouldn’t rely on others, but should instead retain a strong persistence and work for whatever it is that they wish for - to not take shortcuts nor back down in the face of difficulty.

regardless, you went about your day minding your own business. nothing else was out of the ordinary, other than the fact that the entire village grew busier due to the morning’s large intake. the subsequent boats who returned seemed to have similar luck too, which only amplified the workload for everybody. but again, things were fairly regular outside of that. you even took another evening stroll along the same stream that you’d discovered the bottle in, finding it a calming feature of your daily routine.

afterwards, you returned home as usual. upon unlocking your door, you removed your boots, heading to the kitchen to make yourself a hot beverage.

“hey there, darlin’,”

an unfamiliar voice caught you off guard. a million thoughts rushed through your mind, instinctively grasping for a kitchen knife, should you need to defend yourself from the stranger in your home. you turned around, shaky hands gripping your makeshift weapon. you were met with a man, taller than yourself, donning a cheeky grin and what appeared to be two short horns.

“no need for that,” he noted, moving to take the knife out of your hands with ease. “i’m not gonna hurt you, sweetheart.” he mumbled something about how stupid humans were before taking a seat at your table.

“who are you?” your trembling bottom lip told the man all he needed to know: that you’d summoned him without knowing. he picked up the coin that you’d left on the table from the night prior, flipping it and catching it in a fist, exactly the way that you had done.

“the name’s thoma, and just who might you be?”

your eyes grew wide, scanning memories for a reason as to why the name seemed so familiar.

“thoma? like the old inazuman fairy story? you’re not real, i must be imagining this,” you insisted, feeling silly for talking to yourself out loud. clearly your mind was playing a cruel trick on you and there was nobody in your home except for yourself.

“i’m as real as you, darling.” he watched your expression intently, not wanting to come on too strong. “those tales aren’t the most accurate. i just fix people’s problems, promise! my coin finds those in need and gives little humans like you a means to summon me.”

he took your silence as a cue to continue his backstory, watching as you judged the situation to your best ability.

“i’m not technically from inazuma, you know? born and bred in monstadt! i took a ship to inazuma to visit my father. . .” there came the painful chapter that made thoma’s cheery expression falter for a split second. “i got caught in a shipwreck - i was found by a man who taught me how to best help others, to share the kindness that he extended to me, if you will.”

thoma cleared his throat, the bright eyed and bushy tailed demeanour returning.

“he tethered me to this coin, and now i get to travel through the lands and see places i never dreamed of!” you could detect a twinge of pain being masked here, though chose to keep it to yourself. “i help people like you - why do you think there’s an abundance of fish all of a sudden, hmm?”

your heart dropped at that statement. if he’d granted you a favor, you knew that you’d have to pay it back eventually. . .

“what do you want?” your tone blunt and cold.

“lighten up, darlin’! i can’t do anything you don’t agree to.”

“i don’t have much i can offer you.” the room fell silent for a moment, and your voice fell to barely above a whisper. “d-do you want me to sleep with you?”

thoma gasped, stunned at your question. “of course not! what kind of demon do you take me for?”

“i- umm,” you stuttered, “i heard stories of your- your kind offering to erase payments for sex, and i just- i’m sorry. i don’t know what else to offer-”

“relax.” thoma interrupted. “i mean, you’re a pretty thing, so i wouldn’t turn it down. but it’s your choice, doll. you get to pick what i take from you. hell, offer me something like that and i’ll stick around a little longer,”

he didn’t think you would listen to the final part of that, for your brain would instead be spinning with ideas of what exactly you could pay in return.

“so you’d make sure there’s enough fish? i-if i sleep with you?”

thoma didn’t know how to respond, instead giving you space to continue. your gaze averted to the flooring as you admitted:

“because i’m okay with it,”

if you were looking, you would have seen thoma’s eyes darken with lust. he stood up once again, closing the gap between the pair of you. your hands gripped the counter as thoma kissed you with a fervour, lips tasting of sugary treats, though embellished with a salty twinge. upon pulling away from you, the demon licked his lips, eying you up and down.

“a virgin?” he questioned, hungry gaze feeling almost predatory. your cheeks heated up with embarrassment - whilst thoma wasn’t wrong, you didn’t want to admit it. it felt as though he knew your innermost secrets, all from a simple clashing of teeth.

“don’ worry, i’ll be gentle,” he continued, lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist. his grip on your thighs was firm enough to support you, though tender enough as not to cause you any unnecessary pain. occasionally he squeezed the plush skin, eliciting the cutest little whimpers from you.

thoma was smirking by the time he had maneuvered you both so that he could rest you on the edge of your table, planting himself between your legs. the bulge in his pants was already becoming prevalent as he began to kiss along your neck, sucking a masterpiece of hickies into your sweet skin. if he was going to be your first, thoma planned to do it right.

for a demon, he really was benevolent. the nips against the juncture of your neck were playful, though not enough to actually hurt you - they merely tickled. one of his hands pressed your lower half closer to thoma’s body as he allowed you to gyrate your hips against him subconsciously. his heightened senses could almost smell how wet you were for him, able to detect the slick gathering between your legs without so much as taking a peek for himself. his other hand trailed underneath your shirt, tracing unrecognizable shapes into your skin before reaching the hook of your bra.

thoma took his mouth off of you for a brief moment, allowing him to strip your top half completely bare for him. the demon found himself struggling to think straight, instead overwhelmed by carnal desires to remove the rest of your clothing and plough into your virgin cunt. in a complete contrast to his prior, cheery demeanor, thoma wished to mark you as his property.

he pressed his pelvis closer to you, bulge becoming more and more evident with each passing moment. nimble fingers began to rid you of your remaining clothes; thoma shrugged off his own jacket before throwing his shirt to some unknown location that he could uncover later.

shortly enough, the pair of you were left in only your respective undergarments. thoma couldn’t help himself but chuckle as he saw the damp patch seeping through your panties, unable to resist making a sly comment.

“all this just for me, darlin’?” he dragged a finger across your clothed folds, applying enough pressure to make you squirm, though nowhere near the amount that you desired.

you were already out of your depth. having a man (well, could you even call him such? he was a demon after all) see you in such a vulnerable state felt so foreign, yet at the same time was beyond exhilarating. you felt dizzy, butterflies bursting in your stomach as all you wished for in that moment was to have thoma make you scream.

his fingers danced over your pebbled nipples, pinching at the hardened buds ever so gently. yet he still fought to contain himself, demon instincts working overtime to corrupt his thoughts. thoma’s hand then made a beeline for your pussy, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties. your pleas of consent went straight to his crotch, fueling his eagerness to devour your drooling cunt.

as he slid off your underwear, thoma had to bite his lip so as not to groan at the sight. he instantly dropped to his knees, spreading your legs open wider for him to get a better look at you.

“so fuckin’ cute,” he mumbled under his breath before diving into your weeping pussy. he began by placing a kiss to your clit, followed by kitten licks around the swollen bud, experimenting to discover how you liked it best. you didn’t know what you were expecting, though were pleasantly surprised to discover that your demon seemed to come with a forked tongue that you hadn’t previously noticed. a guttural groan fell from his lips as your hands shot to grip the two black horns protruding from his head, your cunt muffling the sweet sound. you used this as leverage to pull yourself closer to him, and if it weren’t for thoma holding you in place you were certain that you would have fallen right off of the edge of the table.

he changed things up, licking a long stripe up down your slit until he located the tight muscles of your entrance. with the knowledge that you hadn’t laid with another before, thoma decided it best to insert his tongue, lapping up your juices as he prodded the warm muscle against your opening.

meanwhile, you were reduced to euphoric gasps. you’d only ever played with yourself, and this was a feeling much different to that of which your own hands could conjure. thoma was diligent, not even leaving your clit without attention as he brushed his nose against the twitching nub, one flat palm keeping you spread out for him. the only sounds filling the kitchen were that of your angelic moans and the lewd noises of him slurping at your cunt. before you knew it, you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge. you tried to hold back, you really did. yet thoma’s mouth was rather heavenly (ironic, considering his demon blood).

“‘m gonna cum,” you whined, grasping thoma’s horns tighter.

instead of replying, he simply patted your thigh a few times, refusing to stop his ministrations and merely hoping that you catch on to his non-verbal cue. you did just that so perfectly, your pretty pussy fluttering around thoma’s tongue as he continued to eat you through your high.

you didn’t even notice that your grip remained on his horns until he patted your wrists, signaling that you could let go of him now. he praised you for how well you had done for him, kissing your forehead and ensuring that you were okay.

in all honesty, he would have been happy to call it even right there and then. the taste of your cunt echoing on his tongue was enough for him to retreat to whatever realm that he hailed from and to jack himself off to. but how could he do such a thing when you sat there begging him for more?

there it was again. the primal urge to stretch your cunt and claim you as his territory. the thought of branding you with a mark, officially claiming you as his, even crossed thoma’s mind. he worked to chase away those ideas by tasting your lips again, simultaneously slipping his hand down to your folds once again.

he coated his middle finger in your slick before aligning it with your hole, continuing to kiss you as a distraction should any pain occur. gently, he circled your entrance before easing his digit into you, massaging your walls as you clamped around him. once satisfied, he added another, beginning to scissor your pussy open, preparing you to take your first cock.

thoma wanted to hear you, instead pulling away from your mouth and letting you rest your head on his shoulder. he cooed your incoherent babbles, telling you that this was necessary before he could fill you up himself, and reminding you that he wished not to hurt you.

he listened as a ecstatic yelp feel from your lips, indicating to him that he’d discovered your g-spot. as the soft pads of his fingers glided across the sweet spot with each thrust, making the stretch even more bearable for you to take. he could feel the pulsing of your gooey walls, the noises you made reminiscent of those you had previously released as you approached your prior orgasm.

“gonna take another one for me, pretty girl?” he asked, though you couldn’t decipher whether or not he meant another finger or if he just wanted for you to cum again.

it turns out you were wrong either way, for the demon proceeded to slip another finger into your messy cunt, as well as have his thumb seek out the nub of your clit, massaging sloppy circles in order to push you over the edge. already sensitive from your previous high, it didn’t take you much longer to shout his name, nails scratching his muscular figure as you fell apart on his hand.

“‘s it,” he muttered, “what a good girl f’me,”

once you had come down from your second orgasm of the evening, thoma pulled his hand away from your pussy. he lifted your head up to look at your face, admiring the glow that the moonlight bathed you in before wiping away the stray tears caused by how darn sensitive your body already was.

“that’s enough, mkay? ‘m not gonna make you-”

“no,” you interrupted, voice barely above a whisper. “need all of you, please. i don’ want you to go yet,”

despite already seeming overstimulated and teary-eyed, thoma couldn’t deny such sweet pleas. he opted for laying you back against the table, planting soft kisses along your body as he finally trailed back to your hot cunt. instead of touching you directly, he pressed his lips along your inner thigh, watching your muscles twitch in anticipation.

“if ya want me to stop, just say so,” he warned before finally slipping off his boxers.

the way in which he had positioned you allowed for you to see his cock as thoma unclothed, the sight making your jaw slacken. it only further cemented the idea in you head that he was indeed not human, for instead of one he possessed two cocks. you gawked, eyes wide as you felt you walls tighten at the thought of having him in you. each appendage was as large as the other, both ribbed and with a slight barb around the tip. you noticed a thick vein pulsing on the underside, wondering if that was an indicator that the demon was ready to pump you full of his load.

as thoma approached you again, he sized you up. he rested one of his cocks on your stomach, his pupils dilating as he took not of just how deep he would be inside of you. concurrently your mind was consumed by fears of whether or not you would be able to take even one of his cocks, let alone the pair at once. could your mortal body even take such a stretch?

your fears were chased away by the feeling of his bulbous head pressing against your entrance, thoma running it along your slit a few times just to collect some of your juices. he looked to you for consent, waiting for you to nod before he started to ease himself into you. his other cock remained bobbing around your stomach; thoma would have pumped his fist around it should he not have been so concerned about you instead.

it felt like a fire had been set ablaze in your belly, tears gracing your lashline as you yelped, yet never once telling him to stop.

“so tight,” thoma uttered, “you virgins always have the prettiest little pussies,”

you couldn’t even retort if you wanted to, mind going blank as the ridges of thoma’s cock brushed against your sweet spot. he took his time bottoming out, revelling in the spasming of your delightful cunt as you cried out in euphoria. you could feel the barbs around his tip tickling your cervix as he bottomed out.

“look at how well ya did, darlin’,” he praised, smiling at you as you blinked through glassy eyes. “maybe i should try fitting them both in, hmm?”

thoma noted that you made no move to say no, allowing his mind to drift to filthy thoughts of truly breaking you in and how damn gorgeous you would look with a cunt full of his cum. this spurred him to begin moving, dragging his cock out of you at a painfully slow pace. his initial thrusts were shallow, waiting for you to start whining for more before pulling himself almost all the way out, until only his head rest in you, and proceeding to slide his way right back in, once again nestling himself against your cervix.

he listened to your body, doing his best not to cause you too much pain as he stretched your poor pussy to mold around his cock. he was aware of how sensitive you were, overstimulated before he could even fill you up.

“go on, cum on me, sweet thing,”

the feeling of you clamping around his cock was a feeling so very different to having you cum on his fingers. it was much more intense, and seemed to finally be his breaking point. you were busy seeing stars as thoma pulled you closer to him, folding you into a sloppy position reminiscent of a mating press, ensuring that he had full access to your exposed cunt as he grabbed his other cock in his fist.

its tip was already leaking precum, a portion of which had already caused a mess on your lower tummy. he pumped his fist a few times before aligning himself with your hole once again, this time pushing your pussy to its limits as he thrust both of his cocks into you.

knowing he was not only the first cock you had, but also the second, filled thoma with a sense of pride, encouraging him to continue his assault on your abused cunt. you took him so well, he wanted to stuff you full of his cum. no, scratch that, he needed to fill you with his cum.

thoma had gone feral, lost his sense of reality as he pounded you like an animal. he used your body, bending it and shifting it so that he could find the best way to bruise your cervix, chasing his own orgasm without any shred of care for you. hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if you’d already cum around his cocks at least once more with how fucking amazing you felt.

words had truly fleed you, leaving you babbling strings of his name as thoma finally began sensing his orgasm on the horizon. he ploughed into you with inhumane speed, truly exhibiting his demon side unlike you had seen yet tonight. if you were level headed enough to look closely, you could see his emerald irises be overtaken by pure black.

all that it took was one nudge against a certain spot inside of you, and you began to fall over the edge once again. this orgasm hit harder than the last few, overstimulation having truly set in. your gooey walls held thoma in a vice grip, enough so to trigger his own orgasm as both of his cocks spurted cum against your womb, the warmth feeling comforting to you whilst in your fucked out bliss. the sensation made your pussy gush, a jet of liquid spilling all over thoma and on your table. sloppy thrusts continued as your squirted, waiting until it had died down to a trickle before pulling out of you.

to say that you were fucked out felt like an understatement. you were exhausted, struggling to move as thoma finished with you. he was intrigued at the way your cunt gaped as he took his cocks out of you, watching ribbons of his cum dribble out of you as you lay unmoving.

he admired your trembling form basking in the moonlight before dealing with you, ensuring he cleaned up and that you got to bed comfortably. the demon even placed a kiss to your forehead once again, this time a silent promise that he’d stick around a while longer.

#delilah.docs #thoma smut #thoma x reader #thoma x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin imagines #genshin impact thoma #thoma x y/n #thoma drabbles

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jeonride · 8 months

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even on my last birthday

SUMMARY; in which, you decided to have a tattoo on your shoulder as his birthday gift. and wonwoo loved it as much as he wanted to grow old with you.

FEATURING; wonwoo x afab!reader

GENRE; fluff, established relationship, office romance au, manager!wonwoo x secretary afab!reader, non-idol au, Seokmin mentioned as a cameo, smut (MINORS DNI)

WARNINGS; dacryphilia, dollification, dry-humping, finger-sucking, choking, praises, use of pet names, mentions of food & eating, mentions of cheating, mentions of tattoos, and being tattoed.

WORD COUNT; 5 K

NOTES FROM KALA; i know his birthday has passed A MONTH ago but well- i have this on my draft for too long so i decided to post this as my 800 folls celebration! (and also, this was my first fic ever). enjoy! <33

inspired by song; last birthday by valley

jeonride's masterlist / join the taglist here !

The 17th of July.

The man named Jeon Wonwoo furrowed his eyebrows when he saw the date on his calendar. Today was his birthday, but unfortunately, he forgot about it. Eventually, that was the reason why his fingers keep flipping through the pages of his agenda book.

"Meeting? Dinner with colleagues?" he murmured. But it was already 07.00 pm and all employees in the office already went home. Remaining himself in his personal workspace, Seokmin- the head of the division that has to work overtime because of the additional work from him, and the janitor who was still passing by.

Soon, the sound of three knocks on his workspace door filled Wonwoo's hearing. He looked up while adjusting his glasses. Said, "Come in." in a voice too low, but still loud to be heard. After that his head was back down, still looking for what was on the agenda on the 17th of July, not realizing who entered his room.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you.”

The soft singing of 'happy birthday' filled his ears. Wonwoo clearly knew who it was. His face lit up as he looked at you - his fiancé, looking gorgeous, wearing a black backless dress while holding a chocolate-flavored birthday cake, Wonwoo's favorite since childhood.

Wonwoo reflexively gasped, his expression one of surprise. He couldn't believe that July 17th was his birthday. The number 27 candles glowed on the cake's surface.

You walked closer to him, and Wonwoo took the initiative to get up from his chair, heading towards you. Your smile was fixed, looking so sweet that Wonwoo felt that your smile alone can relieve his burden for the whole day.

“Happy Birthday, Schatzi.” With that, you reached the end of the song. Wonwoo smiled at the petname, schatzi. It was from your favorite novel that you read to him. Where the main character called her lover schatzi.

You watched how Wonwoo closed his eyes immediately, as he clasped his hands together. His mouth chanted wishes, containing all the good things in the world for him, his family, and especially you. Then he opened his eyes again, with his cheeks puffed up with air- blowing out the number 27 candles. You cheered, happy and assuring whatever Wonwoo wished for.

Your face moved closer to him, planting a soft, affectionate kiss on his pink lips. “I wish you health, wealth, and a happy life with me as your wife.” You whispered between the kiss, his minty breath was fanning your lips.

Then slowly his lips formed a smile before he let out a small laugh at your words just now. His two sturdy hands pulled your waist to get closer. “Thank you, love.” He replied. “I even forgot my birthday. Glad you came to celebrate it.”

He caressed your cheek, “You’re the one who always remembers anything about me.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, chuckling. “So stop being careless with everything around you.”

"Can’t help it, I know what’s my priority."

“So our wedding isn’t on your priority list?”

Wonwoo's gaze at you became softened. his forefinger moved to ruffle your hair, tucking the strands behind your ear adorned with a glittering earring. ”You know that’s not how it works, darling.” He pinched your cheek. “I care for you. I care for us.”

“Then come with me. I'm tired of taking care of everything by myself. It's also tiring to deal with people who keep asking where is the groom? Why he isn’t with you?”

Your words made Wonwoo laugh. "I'm sorry, I'm really busy these days. I'm focusing on getting promoted so that our family in the future can live comfortably."

You nodded, understood about it. You knew you couldn’t complain when the only thing he wanted was your happiness and the comfort of the two of you when you finally get married and live with him. Jeon Wonwoo had always been mature, all the problems regarding the future of the two of you had been planned very well. You were lucky because you managed to become a woman who won his heart, since two years ago.

You put Wonwoo's birthday cake on his desk and smiled as you saw the sign that read 'Mr. Wonwoo Jeon, Manager' prominently displayed in front of his desk.

“When will you be promoted to CEO?”

Wonwoo shook his head, “I don't know yet. Hopefully, it will be sooner. Wish me luck, okay?"

You nodded softly, “But I want to be your secretary.”

"Your father will be angry if I take his secretary." Wonwoo's mischievous expression appeared. He knew you craved to be his secretary so badly. Well, who didn’t? You bet every woman in the office wanted just the same, to be working in front of his desk and take a glance at his face while he was busy working and typing. What a sight to see in the middle of a tiring day in the office.

“Well, I’m sure he will understand if you’re the one who takes me away from him. You knew he was cheating with his secretary.” You sighed. Still hurt a little every time you remember about it. “I don’t want that kind of thing to happen again in my life.”

Wonwoo's gaze seemed to be as sympathetic, also he felt bad for making you feel sad by telling him about the problem that happened in your family in the past.

“Love, I’m sorry-”

“No, it’s fine. They’re all fine, now. As you can see.”

Wonwoo reached out to hold your hand and embodied kisses to the knuckles of your fingers before kissing the engagement ring.

“I want to spend my days with you.”

You chuckled immediately at his sudden confession. “What? It’s rare for you to say that kind of stuff.” And Wonwoo could feel his cheeks heat up.

“I mean- you said you want to be my secretary and I’ll happily have you as my secretary through my whole career.” He seemed a little shy about it. You couldn’t help but smile, then run your fingers to stroke his hair that was still gelled. He changed the topic to, “Let’s eat the cake.” to divert his shyness.

Okay. You agreed, didn’t want to tease him because you knew, things would turn upside down very quickly. You will feel so small in his presence as he reciprocated your teasing with intimidating domination. And nonetheless, your stomach felt hungry because you haven't had dinner yet either. The chocolate cake you gave looked really good but of course, you felt bad to eat the cake. It should be Wonwoo who takes it first.

“Wait, the knife’s in my bag.” You turned around, heading for the chair in front of Wonwoo’s desk where you had carelessly placed your sling bag because you felt uncomfortable wearing it. That's when, Wonwoo got full access to stare at your bare back, where your right shoulder was reddish in color and a new tattoo was clearly imprinted there. His lips formed a smile in a second. He liked what he saw. Then his strong hands pulled your waist, successfully making your body land in his lap.

Wonwoo noticed you were surprised, and you wanted to protest because you intended to get the knife in the bag. But Wonwoo just couldn't resist his curiosity about your new tattoo. He blew gently on the surface of your shoulder, making you feel goosebumps. Wonwoo grinned as he noticed your body started to stiffen just from his warm breath.

“What’s this?” his voice lowered, as his fore finger pointed at your shoulder which was adorned with a tattoo of water lily, his birth flower. ”Water lily?”

Your breath hitched at his touch. “Yes, water lily. Your birth flower."

“I know, doll.” He chuckled. "It's just..." A second after he was approaching to your bare shoulder again, he returned to blowing his warm breath while giving a few kisses at your new tattoo, then licking it in the most sensual way. "Love it. Fucking in love with this beautiful water lily tattooed on your skin."

Your smile got wider as he praised you. You felt an explosion of happiness in your chest because it took a lot of effort to have a tattoo. But because Wonwoo had one, you also got the feeling to have a tattoo as his birthday gift, thinking he would like it and glad he did.

"Is this my birthday gift?" he asked lowly, right into your ear. You could sense that he was smiling.

You nodded softly, as you were his good girl. "Yes, all for you."

"Oh, doll." he cooed. He kissed your tattoo once again, but this time with his mouth opened, spreading wet kisses across your bare shoulder. You could feel how his saliva made the surface wet. You started to tense up at the pet name, doll.

And the way he gave you open-mouthed kisses, it tickled you. But also sent shivers down your spine. You squirmed under the slightest touch of his lips.

"My doll, being so pretty for me."

You whimpered, those words that slipped away from a-very-fucking-handsome-man-named-Jeon-Wonwoo made your cunt dripping with your own arousal. He knew for sure his words would do something to your body. His lips formed a light grin.

Your breath caught again when Wonwoo landed his big hands on your thighs. his movements were slow, but sure and made you shiver. Wonwoo lifted your black dress slowly. From your knees, then up to your upper thighs. Exposing your skin that felt so soft under the touch of his cold hands. He did all that while whispering, "My precious doll, all for me."

"Wonwoo-" you released a whimper, moving uncomfortably as you feel Wonwoo's hardening cock on your ass.

You started to stutter, "I'm starving. You know, not because I want to eat you- but because the cake I bought for you looks so delicious."

Wonwoo who heard your words laughed. Instantly his lustful urges were restrained for a moment, because then he could actually hear your stomach rumbling, demanding to be filled.

The man embraced your body, manhandling, also flexing how strong his arms were. he turned your body position to face him. He wanted to see the sparkle in your eyes that looked exactly like a doll.

Oh, you were really such a doll in his eyes. With lips that looked so soft and your rosy cheeks because you were embarrassed by feeling hungry at this kind of moment.

"My poor babydoll." he cooed. "How long have you been hungry?"

"Please-" you unconsciously begged. Didn't know where you got the idea. Making Wonwoo's left eyebrow raised in curiosity, "Please what, doll? I don't understand."

"I-" you pointed at the chocolate cake you brought earlier, untouched. "Please let me eat the cake first, i know it's yours i bought it for you but can you please let me eat it?"

Wonwoo's chest warmed up, to him his fiancée's behavior now was so cute and adorable. It made him admire your face more than in the past days.

"So polite." he praised. "I've really taught you to beg well."

Your cheeks heated up, and you decided to look away but Wonwoo's forefinger immediately grabbed your chin, forcing you to look back at him. "Look at me. I said that you have to be confident in front of me."

You gulped. "Okay. Okay. Understood. I just feel kinda embarrassed.. you know."

"It's normal, baby. I'm fine with your stomach rumbling, it's cute tho." he laughed again. And before you hit his arm, he continued with, "Alright, alright. I'm going to feed you, don't you worry."

You nod enthusiastically as Wonwoo grabbed up your bag, took out a cake knife from inside, and started to cut the cake in pieces that you liked, not too thick and not too thin. He really remembered everything about you well, especially when it came to serving food.

Wonwoo smiled too when he saw your face so beamed. His heart melted every time you smiled, even though he never expressed it verbally. He expressed that he loved you through his actions, by covering you with his expensive black coat when it rained, clutching your waist tightly when the train was crowded with people, helping you with chores and cleaning the apartment, and also doing aftercare with care and tenderness. You were grateful that you were loved by a man like him.

You, on the other hand, were ready to open your mouth. Thinking Wonwoo was going to feed you. But as it turned out, he was stuffing pieces of cake into his own mouth, making you frown at the sight.

"Woo, i said i'm sta-"

And Wonwoo, interrupted you with a soft kiss. The chocolate cream on Wonwoo's lips felt on your senses, making you move to suck his lips harder and rougher, also demanding. Successfully making Wonwoo's stomach tingle, as if butterfly wings were fluttering in it until he chuckles in a low voice between the kiss.

Wonwoo thought you must be really starving by now, so starving that you've lost control of yourself. You were starving for food, also starving for Wonwoo's touch.

So Wonwoo didn't want to tease any further. He chose to open his mouth, and you followed along. Wonwoo's tongue placed a piece of cake on the surface of your tongue, so the piece of cake that was previously in his mouth moved into your mouth. That was Wonwoo's way, of feeding you. And you didn't mind.

Wonwoo moved away for a moment, giving you time to munch on his birthday cake.

"How is it?" Wonwoo asked as his thumb wiped away the chocolate cream stain at the corner of your lips.

"Sweet." you didn't reply much. You were busy chewing and marveling at the taste of the cake. So sweet and soft on the tongue, it's appetizing. You think you could even finish the whole cake by yourself.

"Still starving?" he asked.

"I amm. Please just keep going,"

"I don't understand. Clear instruction only, doll."

You sighed. He was such a tease. Loved to hear your filthy thoughts out loud. "Please feed me, with your mouth. Want to taste the chocolate cream from your lips."

Wonwoo seemed satisfied by your words. It was fun to hear you begged to him. Reminding him to who you belong- and it was always him. Also felt like a booster for Wonwoo. Your begs feed his ego and it sparked a fire inside his chest.

So he continued to feed you the chocolate cake from his mouth, you let out soft hums in approval every time you taste the sweet cream all over your tongue. He held the back of your neck, wanting to kiss you deeper while you were sucking his lip clean from the chocolate cake. Slowly, the 'feeding you his birthday cake' session became breathless, and Wonwoo didn't even give you time to munch the cake slice. He was more than ready to devour all of you, to be drunk in a hot kissing session while you were still trying to eat his cake properly.

"Woo-" you whined. "Can't keep up."

"That's okay, doll. Slowly."

And how could you slow the movement of your kiss when all he did was kiss you and moan into your mouth lustily when you accidentally gave friction to his boner? Even the way of his breathing started to be shaky. You knew he needed more of you.

He slowly placed his two fingers on your lower lip. Staring at your puffy lips that were glistening with saliva. His stare was getting darker as he watched how your chest breathing up and down heavily, how your cheeks turned all red, and the way you were staring back at him with doe eyes, he could feel his cock twitching down there.

"Suck," he commanded.

You did as he asked, put his two fingers in your mouth. Sucking his fingers and licking the fingertips teasingly. Wonwoo found himself couldn't breathe properly, he even swallowed hard his own saliva while managing to keep the eye-contact with you. The warmth of your mouth made him unfocused, and how you made his fingers wet with your saliva. Lowkey imagining his other body part to be sucked and licked by you like this.

"You're getting so much better at sucking my fingers, doll."

Your reply came out mumbled, but Wonwoo caught your words perfectly, all while he was tilting his head to read your mouth. "Getting better because of me?"

You nodded swiftly, as Wonwoo starts to move his two fingers inside your mouth, he slowly moved them back and forth, in and out. You focused on sucking his fingers without breaking eye contact with him, which makes the air in Wonwoo's personal workspace even hotter and more stifling. Wonwoo nimbly untied the tie around his neck, making him feel like he was suffocating. You wanted to help him untie the tie, but he shook his head lightly while smiling weakly. As if he were signaling, 'you don't have to do anything besides sucking my fingers like a good girl.'

Wonwoo also moved his waist, grinding against your clothed cunt. The low moan he released made the inside of your body burning. Wonwoo sped up his hand movements, eager to make you choke on just two of his fingers. There was always a sense of pride every time he managed to make you choke and cry. Oh, Wonwoo loved to see how your doe eyes flow crystal clear tears. He would happily kisses every drop of your tears or even, licks them.

Wonwoo noticed how your saliva was rolling down his knuckles, and it made your cheeks even redder just because a stare full of lust from his eyes. His fingers moved in and out even faster, impatient to see you choke. You yourself didn't realize what Wonwoo was trying to do. Until a few moments later, you choked because his fingers hit the tip of your throat. Your tears were immediately melting, running down your cheeks, smearing the mascara you're wearing.

"Oh, doll." he teased. "Did I hurt you?" he asked with such a fake innocence. Because in the end, he grinned triumphantly as your tears even began to fall down your chin. Wonwoo quickly kissed away each and every teardrop visible to his peripheral.

Wonwoo has already picked up the tissues on his desk when you finally realize what he was been trying to do. You felt a little annoyed, and punched him lightly on the shoulder, yet Wonwoo just laughed as he slowly wiped away your tears with the tissue, simultaneously cleaning the stains from your smudged mascara.

"I'm sorry, doll. But you look so pretty when you cry..." his voice that was already low, dropped another octave. Wonwoo's hands rubbed your sides this time, you could feel how cold his hands were. Wonwoo did have cold hands, which can always put you back in control of yourself, regardless of how hot your body was right now. He was even good at calming you down when anger got the best of you with the gentle strokes of his cold hands on your shoulder.

"Mean. So you like to see me cry, huh?" you acted as you were annoyed, while your hand sneakily making its way to the belt Wonwoo was wearing. The black leather belt that he always used to wear to office.

But Wonwoo of course could sense the gentle touch of your hand on his belt. "Ah, ah." he reprimanded. "I still have things to do, we can't do it right now, doll."

"You must be kidding me. You already worked 11 hours already, Woo! How come there are still a lot things to do?" you weren't angry toward him, though. You were just worried. Yet his facial expression changed when you rised your tone a little bit higher in front of him.

"Did you just yell at me, doll?" His grip on your waist tighten, more firm. As if he were expressing that he didn't like what you just did.

"I didn't, Woo. I was just worried about your health. I'm sorry,"

"You're worrying about me?"

"Of course! You always work like there's no tomorrow to finish your assignment."

He chuckled, "Sweet doll, worrying about me." then played with your hair softly. "If you said so, guess I'll take a few minutes' break from now on. Let's just do something, anything fun on your mind?"

Oh, it was the way of him asking anything fun on your mind? when his hand traveled up to your panties, toying with the waistband. He knew what he was doing, and yet his eyes gleamed like pure innocence even though his lips couldn't hold the urge to smirk. How could someone manage to look like that on the same time?

His face continued to move closer, then his pink lips kissed your jawline, all while his forefinger started to rub on your clit. You bit your lip, didn't want to release any whimper or soft moans but Wonwoo made it harder, his other free hand now gently squeezing your breast. Now his kisses going down, to the crook of your neck. Kissing, licking, and marking. He didn't care about your neck being full of hickeys. He planned to cover you with his expensive black coat on the way to the parking lot, though.

You were stammering and found it difficult to speak. "Wonwoo, stop—"

"And why do I have to stop?"

"Because you said you're busy! If you're just teasing me right now, then please, stop."

He shrugged. "Well, I am busy. But I didn't mean it until the moment I can't have fun with you."

And with that, your hand was going back again to his belt. Urging him to do the thing that you already had in mind for thirty minutes now. "Then open this,"

Wonwoo laughed, this time with his eyes beautifully closed. His hand then grabbed yours, gently removing it from his belt. "But I also said that I only take a break for a few minutes, doll. This won't do only in ten or twenty minutes, right?"

You surrendered, nodding limply. Wonwoo just smiled as he realized how disappointed you were that you won't be fucked anytime soon. "We can still have fun, doll. Don't be pouty like that," his finger played with the corner of your lips that were indeed, pouting.

"But I want to ride you..." You said in a half-whisper, still feeling the embarrassment in your chest to say it out loud.

Wonwoo had no problem with you speaking in a half-whisper whenever you were feeling shy. He took the opportunity to bring his face closer to your lips and to look closely at your blushing face. "Yeah? You want to ride me?"

You nodded shyly, fingers toying with the button of his shirt.

"Ride me, then." Wonwoo invited, giving permission. And your eyes widened at his words. Oh, this is going to be a dry-humping session, then. You were a bit uncertain about Wonwoo's decision this time. Because usually, he wouldn't get enough of just rubbing his hardening cock against your clothed cunt. He was a bit insatiable. You both had done a challenge where there was to be no intercourse during the movie-watching session together. It became a soft dry humping session, where Wonwoo whispered words of affirmation and validated you, how perfect you were for him. But still, eventually, he felt it was not enough and you end up having sex with him in the middle of the movie.

Wonwoo's hands were ready to hold both sides of your waist, and then he moved your waist back and forth, urging you to ride him. All while when he was spreading his legs so that the hardening cock on his pants can be felt on your clit which is still wrapped in panties. "Now ride me, doll."

You got closer to Wonwoo's body, and he kissed your forehead softly. Embracing your body with his warmth, with all his love that overflows for you. You wrapped your hands around Wonwoo's neck and started rubbing your clit against his cock. He felt so hard, and you could feel the way his cock rubbed against your cunt perfectly even though you both still had pants on. You let out sighs and moans, and Wonwoo responded by gently stroking your bare back, then saying, "I got you, doll. I got you."

"Wonwoo-" Your breath got caught in your throat. "Feels so good-"

Wonwoo mumbled in reply, his hand wiping at the trail of sweat that was on your forehead. "Want me to help you?"

Then he helped you by pounding his hips hard, sending tingling sensations all over your body through the hard friction from his erection. Wonwoo watched how your mouth opened, your eyes shut, and your rosy lips let out a sigh of the pleasure Wonwoo gave you.

The air around you felt hotter and you felt dizzy from the stimulant Wonwoo was giving you between your legs. Your hips were also constantly moving, back and forth, seeking more friction from Wonwoo's boner. And that action earned a low grunt from Wonwoo, he complimented how good you were at making him feel like he was up in the clouds. "Just like that, doll. Oh, fuck."

Wonwoo's right hand pinched your hardened nipple, because your breasts kept bouncing in front of his eyes, activating the desire inside his mind to grab your breasts and squeeze them roughly until a high-pitched moan was released from your pretty mouth. "Ah, Wonwoo!" You were no longer care to hold back your moans even though you know, your voice might be heard from outside of his personal workspace.

Wonwoo didn't think about that either, focusing on pursuing his pleasure. And when Wonwoo's long fingers played with your nipples, twisting, and then pinching them, you started to cry. The stimulants that he gave to you were too much. Tears formed in both of your eyes, like the clear lakes Wonwoo would dive into.

You always looked so enthralling to him, even when you were crying. Oh, he was even proud when the pleasure he brought to your body could make you cry and call his name as if Wonwoo's name was the only thing you knew because you don't get exhausted of saying it over and over between your moans and whimpers. As if his name was a spell that could make Wonwoo do more to satisfy you.

Wonwoo knew you were close, from the way your chest rose then fell, and the way your breathing got heavier. Your moans sounded louder and 'noisier' when you felt your orgasm was coming, Wonwoo already knew that attitude of yours. His eyes stared at your face with lust. Your expression that was full of pleasure made his cock twitch in his office pants which felt tighter now.

"Are you close, doll? I'm-" Wonwoo couldn't finish his sentence because you hid your face in the crook of his neck, biting the most sensitive area of Jeon Wonwoo which of course no one else knew but you. Wonwoo's grip on your waist tightened, while your own hands pulled Wonwoo's hair, messing with his hair and he didn't mind that at all.

"Doll, fuck-" his breath hitched as you were sucking on the sensitive area of his neck. "My babydoll, I want you to always be mine," he whispered between his heavy breaths, sending butterflies to your stomach as you felt the familiar knot on your abdomen.

"I'm yours, Wonwoo. Always yours to take," you replied, and your tone became softer. Then you looked up at him, only to stare at his face, and found the explosion of affection for you from his dark brown eyes.

He cradled your cheek, and you leaned in for his touch while chasing your orgasm. "Feel like you're about to cum, doll?"

You whined and gave him a nod as an answer while bouncing on his erection even harder and faster. He groaned, "You like this, aren't you? I can tell you're so close, doll."

Wonwoo was right. Soon, your orgasm hit so hard, that was even dripping out to your inner thighs. Your panties were all soaked, and Wonwoo's office pants also got wet because of your orgasm. Wonwoo grunted at the sight of it, and he came right after you with his mouth hung open, calling your name in the deepest tone of his voice that made you shiver.

You were trying to calm yourself down, and so did Wonwoo. His way of breathing slowly got calmer when you gave some soft squeezes on his shoulder. He looked down at you, smiling, with his heart bursting out of love for you. He kissed your forehead, while gently stroking your hair. "Thank you, y/n."

You flashed a smile at him. "You are welcome and once again, happy birthday my love."

His face beamed at your words. He was so happy to have his 27th birthday spent with you. And he was hoping, deep down in his heart, you would always be there, be the one who always remember his birthday and will not get bored to spare him some of your time just to be with him on his birthday night. He would love to always age up with you beside him, to always have you sing him 'Happy Birthday to you with your angelic voice.

He would love to grow old with you.

"I'd love to turn one year older with you in my arms, love. Please always be by my side, even on my last birthday."

#kala : writes #wonwoo seventeen #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo smut #wonwoo fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen fanfic #seventeen #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fic

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yandere-sins · 5 months

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Ivyyyyyyyy >.< you're the worsttttt(read: BEST) oh my god the thoughts im having abt dilic with a period kink rn. Gawd and he doesn't even know it's a period kink, he thinks it's absolutely normal to do nasty things with his girl while she's bleeding out and feels proud about it that HE can take her pain away

OMG continuing the diluc saga but yan dilic thinks darling's period is the perfect opportunity to finally put his hands on darling. He knows you're in pain so he promises, he's doing this for YOU not him (lies) he'll ease it in gently and make it feel good! Soon darling will forget all about those cramps bc of him him him! He doesnt need to feel as guilty bc he's helping you out.....right? OMG PLS write something abt thissss, it can be any yandere or oc but im going crazy after what u saiddd

Hehe, you're welcome! I began writing this as just a talk, but decided mid-way through to make it a scenario!

a/n: I wrote this before my hiatus and coming back to correct it, I found so many mistakes, it doesn't even feel like I wrote this smh... I did my best to polish it a bit since I can't see myself rewriting it in the future but if you find anything oddly worded just ignore it lol I wasn't myself back then :')

[Warning: Yandere, Sexual Content]

I can just see the cock cogs turning in this idiot's head as he racks his brain about how he can help you. Clearly, you're in pain, but no matter how many more times he calls a physician to have a look, they just keep waving off his concerns. It's normal, they say. You're healthy. That's what everyone has to go through.

And yet he sees you writhing and crying in pain—it's breaking his heart!

Pillow pressed to your stomach, tears in your eyes that you can't blink away fast enough before they fall. You're especially irritable, but it hurts him more when you whine and complain; Diluc wanting to help you now more than ever. He's already gone through the usual stuff, the imported water bottles from Snezhnaya and the chocolate from Fontaine. If you utter so much as a craving, he has the servants scramble to get it to you. Nothing is too expensive or too hard to get. You could have asked for the heads of your enemies, and Diluc would have brought them to you with ribbons and glitter if that had helped with your pains.

But alas, it doesn't.

It's been three days, and his nerves are raw, the bags under his eyes dark, and the burden of your health weighs heavily on Diluc. He can't see how things will ever get better. The other times you were on your period were conveniently skipped by business trips, so this is hitting him full force.

"Exercising might help," one of the maids suggests as he forces himself to consult someone more knowledgeable than him.

"Sometimes, my wife likes a little stimulation to alleviate the pain," a vintner chuckles, winking at Diluc as the word of his helplessness spreads. And suddenly, inappropriate ideas get stuck in his head, making him blush like a young lad in love.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Taking a deep breath, Diluc raised his hand to knock on your bedroom door. It was terribly late, the servants asleep and only the eery flickering of his candle guiding him through the night. Most likely, you were tugged in and fighting for your well-deserved sleep, so he hesitated, fist hanging in the air before slowly dropping it to his side.

What he was about to do was not only foolish but also filled him with the same burning in his body as using his vision did. He could feel the warmth sweep over him from his head to his toes, the latter curling in his shoes while most of the heat was throbbing between his legs, aching to connect with your warmth in a less-than-innocent way.

However, these feelings were nothing compared to the agony of the last few days.

If this was what he had to do to help you alleviate the pain, he would. If it was for you, Diluc would do anything in his power, whether to protect or help you. If he had to become a mere plaything so you'd be freed of the pain, then his concerns were a small sacrifice for all the good he was going to do.

Brushing his hair back, Diluc took a deep breath, reminding himself there was nothing wrong with wanting to help. If the method the vintner suggested worked, everyone would be happy. And if not, he'd keep searching for ways to free you of the pain. Turning the key in the door lock, he pulled it out before slowly entering your room, ensuring he could give you two the privacy needed in this situation.

To his surprise, you were still awake.

You made a half-hearted attempt at a greeting, but when you noticed it was him, you only scoffed, turning away. It hurt when you gave him the cold shoulder so callously, but Diluc knew you were the one suffering at that moment, not him. He could forgive you for being dismissive of him. Your bedside lamp was still on, and he could see you clutching a pillow to your belly, his own stomach cramping up with remorse, even though, logically, he knew it wasn't his fault. He loved you as you were, the good and bad days, your misery becoming his own much too easily these days.

Setting down the candle on your table, he walked over to you. But not before locking the door from the inside, just so he could give himself a few more seconds before his approach. Every step cost him a lot of discipline, being near you never having been this hard. Even when he looked confident around you, Diluc only ever felt weak. You made him vulnerable. Desperate. Longing for your love and affection was all he was allowed to do, so even just watching your chest rise and fall set him ablaze.

Pushing off his shoes, Diluc focused on the little space you left at the edge of the bed. It was the only space he could see that was reserved for him, as he didn't deserve to share your bed, in your opinion. Yet, when he climbed in, pulling the cover over himself and snaking his arm around your waist, he was enveloped in your scent, your hair tickling his skin as he breathed in deeply. Had he known that heaven was hiding so closely to him, he might not have waited so long to come and see you.

"What are you--" you complained, pushing yourself away from him. But Diluc's hand had already wandered beneath the pillow, feeling the hot water bottle you kept secured there, only to replace it with his palm. He was just as, if not hotter than anything the servants could procure for you; his body temperature naturally elevated from his vision. It wouldn't burn you, but with his hand hugging your lower belly, it was much more effective and fitting than any appliance might be.

And you fell for it, even if just for a split second.

For a moment, you leaned into the comfort of his palm, the pain vanishing in the blink of an eye. Diluc even caught you sighing briefly before you came to your senses, jolting and pushing away from him, only to get stuck inside the blanket and pressed up against him. Diluc couldn't help but grin, having read your actions before they even occurred to you, but of course, this was a serious matter, so he quickly composed himself.

"H-Hey!" you yelled as his hand drifted lower, his face burying into the nape of your neck. He wasn't there to dilly-dally but to be of service. To help you in your time of need. By the time Diluc pressed his lips to your skin and his fingers between your legs, you understood his intentions as well, perhaps misinterpreted, but clear as day.

He was going to fuck the pain away.

If exercise and stimulation helped others, maybe it would do the same for you. His fingers were met with warm slick, your body flinching when he moved over your clit. Perhaps his calloused hands weren't made for caressing and soft touches but for teasing and stimulating. Judging by how puffy your lower lips were, worked up from days of rubbing your legs together and your panties aggravating them mercilessly, you were in dire need of his help.

"Don't fight it. You're not alone in this," Diluc reassured you as you squirmed in his hold, biting back the salacious sounds of pleasure you were keeping from his ears. You were so mean, keeping every little taste of appreciation from Diluc, knowing how much it meant to him. But he'd endure. Even when your ass ground back against his cock, making it incredibly hard to not focus on his needs as well, he'd put you first in all of this.

When he slipped his pointer and middle finger towards your entrance, a tremor went through your body, a gasp slipping out from between your lips. Diluc never knew how easy it was to get inside another person, greeted warmly and happily by your hole clenching around his fingers.

His kisses became more fervent against your neck, teeth snapping out as he felt like he was losing himself in your scent and warmth. The pushes of his hips against your ass became faster, your cheeks fitting so well around his shaft. You yelled at him to stop, but he barely heard you through the sounds of your sloppy, wet cunt, blood mingling with eager juices to allow him more reach inside you. It was almost as if he could hear them beg for him to go deeper, which just wasn't possible with his knuckles in the way, no matter how much he tried.

Forgotten was the pain as pleasure raked its claws through both of you, and yet, Diluc still heard you whine and sob as he scissored his fingers through your inside. It wasn't enough. He opened his eyes he didn't know he had closed, staring at your expression curiously. All he saw was anger and disgust, your teeth bared and ready to snap, while he could feel your nails digging into his arm. And yet, when he found your eyes, he saw a very different version of events. Lust, desire, longing. You wanted more, and Diluc wouldn't refuse such a request.

Slipping a leg between yours, he pried them apart, spreading you open wide. You gasped, squirming and trying to cut off his access, but Diluc only had to lean back to steal your balance, your body reliant on his while he gained more space on your bed. The hardest part was freeing his cock from the restraint of his pants, the fabric soggy with both your juices as well as his own pre-cum pearling off the tip of his engorged cock.

Nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of your wet cunt greeting his eager cock. No imagining of this situation could have come close to the throbbing heat, your walls convulsing around his fingers in eager expectation. Diluc placed his tip against his fingers, planning to slip them out and take the opening to sink into you, but with how wet the combination of blood and juices was, he felt himself slipping away, kissing your clit instead.

And for the first time, you moaned.

It was the sound of angels and everything nice, and he drew his hips back, trying again to fill you with his cock, missing it just an inch. All good things are three, and when he finally plunged it deep inside your pussy, you weren't the only one yowling in pleasure. No matter what he had imagined his first time with you to be, nothing would ever top the mess he caused between your legs, his cock ready to burst as it pulsated violently inside your equally as ready cunt.

He could feel the waves of pleasure going through you, the shudders in your limbs as he began to slowly press forward, kissing the last few inches of his reach. You remained stiff as a plank, but when he pulled out halfway before sinking in deep again, you were unable to keep your mouth shut, an elongated moan making its way to Diluc's ears, letting him know it was the right thing after all.

Immediately, any hesitation fell off him as he dragged his cock out and sunk it back into you. Fingers retreated to your clit, continuing to slip off and assault the little knob over and over while your walls clenched around his shaft, making you feel every one of his throbs and ridges, the heat between you two almost scorching.

Part of him couldn't believe it worked. That he actually managed to help you with this trick. But he'd have been a liar if he said it wasn't a pleasure for him, too. Diluc could never have dreamed about your proficiency in driving him wild, from your hot, puffy pussy wrapping around him to the improper sounds he had never heard coming from your lips before. The blood kept you so wet and loud down there; it was like you were synching your moans with your pussy, sloppy as they were.

It couldn't have been better, a shudder going through you from head to toe, your feet curling as you gurgled. Diluc wrapped his free arm around your throat, pulling you against him and burying his face in your shoulder as you came hard, juices leaking out, red dripping on the clean sheets with the blanket long discarded.

You were gasping for air as he plunged right back into you, waiting but a mere few seconds of yours before pursuing his own orgasm. Selfishly, but unable to stop. Diluc was already too deep in it, quite literally, your orgasm making your inside tight around him, but it posed no challenge with how drenched you both were.

A strained groan escaped Diluc as he buckled, feeling the first squirts of cum shoot out of him before he drew back, popping out of your cunt and covering it in his cum. His tip got stuck on your clit, as his jizz ejected under the pressure of his orgasm, making you mewl as you were once again stimulated. It would be a mess to clean, but it had been worth it.

You two collapsed, spent and dirty, but Diluc slipped his palm back over your lower stomach, rubbing the collection of juices over your soft skin, leaving a red trail. Kissing the side of your head, he was trying to collect his breath and thoughts, barely able to think straight as the feelings of happiness and his relief kept him in a chokehold.

"Better?" he asked, his voice a blissful rumble as he pulled you firmer against him.

But all he was met with was a cold glare and tears in your eyes. "I-I'm sorry," he stuttered instinctively, immediately feeling bad. What had he done to upset you again? Your teeth were biting into your lip as if you were holding back a tirade of screaming, ready to explode.

His cock twitched between your legs, bloody and so, so wet.

"I'll make it better! I promise! I will definitely make it better," he tried to reassure you, dazed with pleasure as he was, unable to see the actual problem with all of this. Your body convulsed in shock as he pressed his tip upwards again, and you gasped loudly as he sunk his inches inside you. This time, he wouldn't fail to make you feel better. And until then, he'd keep going.

All night long, if he had to.

475 notes · View notes

lovebugism · 1 year

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oh my god,,,, gurl!!!! THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT fic is sooo good 😫 my heart literally breaks every time I read this story. Thank you for blessing us with this masterpiece <3

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | square one

summary: eddie makes a confession that's been weighing heavy on his heart. you realize that your future with him is haunted by ghosts from your past. pairing: virgin!eddie munson / f!reader word count: 16.3k warnings: hopper, steve, and robin being the reader defense squad, hints at reader's previously poor mental health, mentions of abusive and toxic relationships, a banshees of inisherin quote, b*lly h*rgrove because he needs a warning. (pretend any typos don't exist pls and thank u!) a/n: guess who's back, back again? ✨✨ i'd apologize for disappearing for a month, but then there'd be apologies in all my notes, so just know that i'm sorry every time i disappear unexpectedly, okay? 🥲 thanks for being so patient! please enjoy this long-awaited installment of tcar ily <3

( PREVIOUSLY ) | ( SERIES MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )

Eddie’s got a 1986 Van Halen tape in his boombox and a baby pink heart stitched into the fabric of his shirt. He’s the least metal he’s ever been, but he couldn’t be happier.

You keep your promise to him to patch up his torn Hellfire tee. If anything, you use the absentminded assurance as your excuse to see him again. The night you shared before, all but baring your scarred souls underneath glittering stars and streams of pale moonlight, hadn’t satiated your hunger for him. Eddie left you craving in a way you weren’t used to before — a yearning to be close to him that went beyond the boundaries of physical intimacy.

It was a simple sort of longing. It was a homesickness. A sense of nostalgia for a love you’d never felt before.

You wish you could wear Eddie’s adoration for you like a blanket, wrap yourself in the hand-stitched quilt of many colors and bundle it tighter around your shoulders when the cold comes. You want his softness to hold you in a way you’ve never been able to hold yourself.

You feel swaddled in it, succumbed and cloaked and at peace in all his tenderness. You’ve never been so at ease, so blissfully comforted by the presence of another human being. And Eddie feels all of that, every ounce of warmth you feel, because it pours out of you like rays of sunshine and bathes him in shades of gold.

He didn’t think you could get any softer than you had been that night at Skull Rock, until you were nestled in his unmade bed the next morning. You curled your legs underneath you as you weaved the needle and thread through the tear in his t-shirt, eyes squinted and tongue poking out the side of your mouth in an astute concentration.

All of the sudden, you were marshmallow fluff and honey on toast — made of all things sickly sweet that made his stomach feel suddenly full.

You finish mending the rip in record time and beam when he wears the heart-shaped stitching with pride. The rest of the day thereafter was spent in the tiny confines of his one hundred square-inch bedroom. From there, the both of you came to the silent understanding that you didn't want to spend another day apart.

The weekend had given you a limited sort of freedom, allowed you to pretend that you lived in a world with no responsibilities or anything other than Eddie Eddie Eddie, but adulthood made you no such promises. He had a side job to do to keep himself afloat, and you had a cat that thought it was the end of the world anytime you were gone for longer than a night. Both of those things together meant that the eve of parting was ultimately inevitable.

Every second you spent away from Eddie felt like you were grieving.

You mourned for him in the darkness of your apartment and tried to pretend you weren’t half a person in the cat food aisle at Melvald’s.

You tried to lessen the unbearable distance with phone calls, though it didn’t come nearly as close as feeling his fingers thrumming imaginary beats on your thigh or his heartbeat thudding against your ear.

But his voice filled the emptiness of your one-bedroom apartment and the Eddie Munson shaped hole he’d left just behind your ribcage, and that was good enough for you.

When you weren’t with him, you were roaming around your apartment like some kind of ghost, with the phone tucked between your ear and shoulder and the rotary clutched in your free hand.

You cook yourself dinner with him ranting about his day in your ear. You hold the receiver closer to Bowie and force him to hear her purr when she’s being exceptionally cute. He falls asleep some hours later to the sound of your soft snores, and you wake up the next morning to the sounds of his.

It was pathetic, truly.

You’d be gagging at how sweet it was if it wasn’t happening to you.

But it was.

Every ounce of this sticky sweet goodness was yours, and it tasted just like honey on your tongue.

It was the honeymoon stage times a thousand, all rose-colored and reflecting light — your own personal utopia. It brought with it a heavenly sort of refuge, a bubble of peace you never wanted to pierce.

Eddie basks in the serenity of it all when he finally has you with him again. You’re in his lap, on his lips, and all over him, but it still isn’t quite close enough. He doesn’t think he’ll be satisfied until you’ve successfully melted with him and your limbs have entwined with his like tree roots, destined to remain that way for the next couple of centuries or so.

And it’s weird because he could hardly handle living in such a tiny trailer with Wayne, let alone stomach more than a couple hours with the guys from Hellfire all in one place. But you? You entered his life all at once and now he can’t remember what it was like without you.

He doesn’t particularly want to, if he’s being real honest.

It’s why he’s always less enthused about letting you leave when you’ve both got responsibilities dragging you apart. He begs you to stay with him a few hours more, pleads for you to stick around while he makes a quick deal or an emergency pick-up when Dustin Henderson calls and says he needs a ride.

And you promise you’ll wait on him there, because he makes it virtually impossible to say no to his rosy pouted lips and chocolate syrup puppy dog eyes.

That’s when you run into Wayne for the first time, when Eddie’s out and you’re making breakfast for when he comes back.

French toast and scrambled eggs sizzle on the stove and warm the kitchen with all its cinnamon confections. It makes the man’s face screw up in confusion when he steps inside the trailer because he’s never known Eddie to cook a day in his life. And then his eyes find you — a young, pretty girl all alone in his kitchen with his nephew’s van gone from the drive.

“…Who the hell are you?” he wonders gruffly and pops a cigarette between his lips, totally unbothered.

He’s got no reason to be intimidated by the stranger in his trailer. He’s more confused than anything else, and he’s got this contorted look on his face like he’s blaming the exhaustion from the graveyard shift for his vision of you.

“Oh— my god,” you mumble through the mouthful of whipped cream you’d squeezed into your mouth moments prior. You fight to swallow it all down. “Uh. Hi. I’m, um… I’m Eddie’s... girlfriend?”

It sounds like you’re lying.

In some ways, it feels like you are.

You’ve been spending more time in his trailer than in your own home, but it’s not like either of you has motioned to make anything official just yet.

He eyes you with a tired and heavy gaze, eyes as dark and as infinite as Eddie’s. The man gives you a once-over and then chuckles lowly to himself as he tosses his corduroy jacket onto the back of the recliner and his tin lunchbox to the coffee table.

You shift awkwardly on the other side of the room. “…What is it?”

“When Eddie said he was talkin’ to a pretty girl on the phone every night, I thought he was lyin’,” he admits through hearty chuckles.

It makes you laugh too.

There’s little talking after the fact, besides you offering him some of the breakfast on the stove and him joking that you should come around more often.

You recount the story to Eddie when he returns, utterly mortified about the whole thing. You’re even more embarrassed when the boy finds amusement in your horror and starts to chuckle to himself — not exactly at you, but not with you either.

He laughs louder when you swat at him for it. You clamber on top of him, mattress squeaking mattress under your weight, as you demand him to stop through giggles of your own.

Somewhere down the line, both of you stop caring.

Neither of you is quite sure where the conversation stopped and ended, only that when you started kissing, you couldn’t stop.

They weren’t innocent little pecks, but they weren’t sloppy and full of tongue either. You press your lips together with the intent of being as close as you can to the other, like you haven’t spent every second you could together.

Neither of you will be satisfied until you’ve swallowed each other whole.

And you, you’ve got this ache for him. A swirling of want that’s constantly rippling in your belly for this boy. He’s just not usually under you when it’s happening — and now that he is, the crackling embers have burst into white and blue flames behind your sternum.

Your lips click each time you part, a lewd noise you never want to stop hearing. The sound of it gives you goosebumps, like a good song you’ve just heard on the radio. You wonder if Eddie can feel them as his hands start to creep up beneath your shirt and find purchase along your waist.

You open his mouth with your own and sneak your tongue inside just as you roll your hips over his lap.

It’s the most forthcoming either of you had been in your three-day stint of nonstop talking. Even when you were over at the trailer, totally alone and pressed underneath him, it was otherwise completely innocent. You just make out like a couple of teenagers until one of you wants to make a food run or offers to roll a joint.

And you like that. You like that he doesn’t expect anything from you, but it does get a little agonizing when you’ve tried every attempt to give yourself to him and he just won’t take it.

Like usual, Eddie tenses when he feels you grinding on top of him — partly because he feels a tingle at the base of his spine when he gets instantly half-hard, but mostly because he knows there’s nothing he can do about it.

He keeps preaching to himself it’s not the right time, it’s not the right time, it’s not the right time — but he’s got no idea when it’ll ever be the right time, if it’ll ever be the right time, or if he’ll know it when it comes.

Because he’s had you to himself for days now — no Wayne, no responsibilities, no pressure — with his tongue rutting against yours and your hands fidgeting with the metal buttons of his jeans, and it still doesn’t feel good enough. Eddie doesn’t feel good enough.

He’s not sure if he ever will.

And it’s not you. God, it’s the farthest thing from you. As far as Eddie’s concerned, he’s never had more fun with anyone else. He’s never laughed harder with anyone else. He’s never felt as comfortable with anyone as he’s starting to feel around you. So he’s not entirely sure why he finds the rest of it so hard.

Eddie wants you so bad that the ache of all his yearning is palpable. It’s like the weight of it is what’s keeping him from you — unstoppable force, immovable object, blah, blah, blah.

Either way, it leaves him entirely unable to take things further with you, however much he wants to. There’s something in his way and it’s him.

Your heartache is his own when he has to pull away from you.

“You okay?” you ask him with wide eyes and swollen lips, always so concerned for him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” he’s quick to assure you. He’s still breathless when he fidgets beneath you, trying to prop himself up on his headboard without rubbing his half-hard cock against your thigh.

When he succeeds, he musters a smile that shakes at the edges. “It’s just… you know, not everything… It doesn’t have to be about sex, you know?”

He makes himself as soft as possible for you when he says this. He gets rid of all the usual teasing lilts that tend to lurk on his tongue as the words spill from his mouth. The last thing he wants to do is hurt your feelings or, in some roundabout way, make you think you’re the problem.

He just wants you to know that that isn’t why he’s been wanting to spend so much time with you. There was never an ulterior motive with him other than all the adoration he holds in his hands and his mouth for you.

The strike of hurt that flashes across your face is obvious to only Eddie, who’s spent enough time mapping out your features to know what twitches are ones of discontent. The slight frown that dips between your brows when they scrunch together for half a second comes like a stroke of lightning. It’s a brief flash of purple in the sky that leaves so quickly that it makes you wonder if it was ever there at all.

You fidget on his lap, not resting as comfortably upon him as you had been just moments before. “Oh…” you murmur through soft, jutted-out lips. “Sorry. I, I didn’t—”

“No, it’s not— that’s not what I—” he tries to assure over your insecure stammers, but succeeds only in tripping over himself in return. He cuts himself off with a breathy laugh, shaking his head while his fingers fidget on your hips. “That’s just not what this is about for me, you know? I just… I wanna spend time with you.”

It’s easily the softest thing he’s ever said to you — to anybody, for the matter — and the marshmallow sweetness of it all wraps around you like wisps of pink cotton candy.

Your apprehensiveness twists into something lighter, a pair of twinkling eyes and a bashful smile.

“Oh,” you hum again, obviously more pleased than before. “That’s nice…”

“No one’s ever said that to you before, have they?” Eddie asks you.

He tries to muster a crooked smirk as the words leave his mouth, but he’s got a feeling he already knows the answer. Hearing you affirm his suspicions will do nothing more than make him angry at all the assholes that had you before him, at everyone who taught you that you were good for sex and hardly a thing else.

It makes him wish that he’d gotten to know you sooner. Maybe then you’d understand that he’d be happy just holding you like this and never doing anything more.

You don’t answer him verbally, just shake your head with your lips pursed softly to the side. You look more innocent than anything he’s ever seen before, even with your lipstick smeared on your chin.

He’s still not quite sure how someone could be so reckless with such a fragile thing — to watch you break and not spend the rest of time grieving to know that you’ll never be quite the same again.

There’s a primal instinct that swims in him then, an urge to keep you in his arms and locked in the confines of his trailer forever and ever. He wants to keep the wolves of Hawkins, Indiana from ever getting a whiff of you again. It’d be more than they deserved, anyway.

“God, you have got to get better boyfriends, sweetheart,” Eddie tells you with a playful lilt in his voice despite the anger simmering in his belly.

“Isn’t that what you are?” you giggle.

His world stops.

“Huh?”

You tense at his tenseness. Only when he’s gaping at you does the weight of your words dawn on you. “…Huh?”

The awkward moment goes as quickly as it arrives, chased out by the fit of laughter the two of you are quickly thrown into. Your entwining chuckles rise like smoke in his tiny bedroom and then settle back over you like a fuzzy blanket.

“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend, babe?” Eddie teases.

“Of course not,” you scoff. “Babe.”

“Oh, right, of course not. That would be way too crazy considering we’ve spent, like, every day together and have made each other come… what is it now? Twice?”

“Three times for me,” you correct with you a smile. “You need to catch up, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“Another time?” he offers with a scrunched nose.

“Whenever you want.”

Eddie is grateful for your lack of urgency, even more so for the kiss you press to the tip of his nose.

You peck him on the lips after — once, twice, and then a thiiird, drawn out time — before moving on to his chin and jaw and neck. Whatever part of him you can reach (which is just about everywhere, considering the vantage point you’ve got sitting on his lap), you sprinkle a kiss to it.

It’s an innocent sort of affection, the kind that makes him wonder how it ever came to be in the first place. What evolutionary measures led to this, to you pressing your lips to his skin to show how much you care about him? Eddie doesn’t really want to know the answer, he’s just grateful that it happened in the first place.

You’re so good at it, loving on him. You’re always so kind and so gentle in your way and it makes him feel guilty. There’s a lingering feeling of undeservedness that settles something heavy at the base of his stomach. How could he ever expect you to be so open with him when he hasn’t done the same for you?

A heavy sigh rattles in his deflating chest.

“I gotta tell you something, sweetheart,” he cautions when your lips smack against the thrumming pulse below the left side of his jaw. “Something you’re not gonna like…”

A billion things run through your head all at once. When you part from him, he can see the rollercoaster of emotions each one of them puts you through.

Your first instinct is that he’s got some kind of partner he’s kept hidden from you until now. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve gone steady with a guy who’s then told you about some other girlfriend he had — or, god forbid, a wife.

But then you realize that you surely would’ve had some sort of inkling if that were the case. There’s no way Eddie would’ve been able to spend every second of his day with you — and then another several hours on the phone when you had to leave — without someone else coming along to burst your bubble.

And so far, there haven’t been any angry wives, just the occasionally confused Uncle Wayne.

Then you start thinking he’s about to tell you he wants an open relationship. The you’re great, but I’m just not ready to settle down yet spiel that you’ve heard a thousand times before. Usually when people say that, they mean that they just don’t want to settle down with you.

You’ll become some douchebag’s fuck toy for a month or more until the girl next door comes around. He gets her knocked up in record time, his family forces him to marry her, and they begin their cushy lives together in the center of some cul-de-sac — really settle down, as it were.

You’re not sure if you could take that from Eddie. You could grin and bear if it you had to, take whatever attention he’s willing to give you because who cares if he’s giving it to someone else on the side? You’re just not sure how long you’d last like that.

And then you start to worry that he’s just going to break up with you entirely — it’s not you, it’s blah, I’ll always care about blah, please don’t tell anyone about how we blah-ed. That whole talk.

All the rest of your worries stop mattering so much because you’ve only just called him your boyfriend. And here he goes, about to end it all before it can really even start. That’d be just your luck, you figure.

“Did I do something wrong?” you caution after a few moments of heavy silence.

Eddie’s bleeding heart wrenches at your words, at how sad they sound spilling from your mouth, and how you immediately think that it’s got something to do with you.

He shakes his head feverishly in response. “No. No, it’s not you. You’re… you’re perfect.”

“Okay…” you concede quietly, voice trembling with a lingering disbelief.

“I just… I haven’t been totally honest with you, you know?” the boy admits before his glimmering chocolate eyes fly open and he corrects himself quickly. “And I haven’t lied to you or anything. Not— Not exactly. I just… I wanna be honest with you… As your boyfriend and all.”

You can tell by the sudden weight in his voice that he’s serious. But the fine coat of glowing rose that splotches Eddie’s cheeks after calling himself your boyfriend for the first time makes you melt.

You smile to yourself and start to trace the heart you’d stitched into his t-shirt with your finger.

“Yeah. I mean, we are about to spend our two minutes anniversary together and everything.”

“Exactly,” the boy huffs out a laugh. It lacks its usual jest, though, because of the ice-cold anxiety that drenches him from head to toe and makes his hands and feet go numb.

His fingers tremble where the rest on your waist, trying and failing to find a comfortable position there because, right about now, Eddie feels the most awkward he’s ever felt.

“I just want you to know that I… I’ve never done this before,” he confesses quietly and with his eyes squeezed shut. He prays that he doesn’t have to be any less vague than that.

Your face twists in confusion — your brows furrow and your nose twitches and your head tilts to the side like a puppy. And then you’re laughing, a soft little thing of a giggle that normally makes his heart sing, though now he can only feel it breaking.

“What…?” he tries to scoff out his own chuckle. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because you’ve already told me that, dummy. That you’ve never felt this way before…” you answer, reciting his own words back to him. You haven’t yet forgotten how he’d looked at you as you said them, pale skin made silk under the moonlight while he sparkled beneath the beams of it and his love for you.

“No, it’s… it’s more than that,” he corrects. “I’ve never even had a girlfriend before you. Or anything really.”

You still don’t seem to understand. You just look on at him with uncertainty.

A quiet “okay?” tumbles from your mouth entwined with a nervous giggle, because you don’t understand what’s got him so somber. He’s never dated anyone, you’ve fucked half of Hawkins — these are just facts that went unsaid before now.

And maybe it’s because you’ve never been with a virgin before, but the thought that Eddie might be one hasn’t seemed to cross your mind at all.

It’s that exact thought that scares him.

Because if it hasn’t already, maybe it’s because you’re avoiding it altogether. And why would he ever be the exception?

He opts to bite the bullet and hopes that his heart doesn’t get broken after.

“I’m a virgin. Okay? I’m a complete, total, proper adult virgin,” he blurts with a brazenness he’d previously lacked when it came to all this. “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before now, but I didn’t, because I liked you and I was scared. So if you wanna yell at me or if you wanna break up with me before our five-minute anniversary, I totally get it, but I should probably let you know that it’ll rip my little virgin heart to shreds, so…”

Eddie ends his nervous ramble with a trembling, lopsided smile that does little to ease the leaden tension he’s just manufactured in the four walls of his bedroom.

He can’t seem to gauge your reaction after the fact, which is strange because he always knows what you’re thinking.

He knows when you’re laughing with him and not at him. You scrunch your nose and giggle when he tells you a funny joke, then tilt your head back and cackle when he trips over the punchline.

He knows the exact moment when something’s started to bother you — when you get real quiet in your bubble of reserved stillness and your eyes start to glaze over. To anyone else, it might just look like a person who’s keeping to themselves. Eddie’s starting to learn that usually means trouble when it comes to you.

He knows the difference between your gentle sort of sadness and when you’re damn near inconsolable. When you cried at the end of Stand By Me, you smiled at him with a glassy tear-filled gaze, then rolled your eyes when he tried to comfort you. The tears only spilled over when you laughed because Eddie pretended you’d hurt him when you’d shoved him away.

But when you’re really upset about something, you don’t show him at all — you fight to keep it all to yourself until you’ve squished the problem into a tiny enough ball that you can forget about all of it.

This is something different.

There’s too much crossing your mind all at once for him to get a good read of you.

You just gape at him, like you’re trying to figure out if he’s joking or not, and then fighting to understand what it means when you realize he’s being serious.

And just when you’ve started to wrap your head around it all, when your brain remembers how to make words again and you realize you haven’t said anything in several agonizing seconds, a foreign voice sounds from down the hallway.

Not foreign in that it was unfamiliar exactly, just foreign in that you and Eddie had spent so much time alone that you were starting to forget that there was an entire world outside of yourselves. A great big world, filled with a great many people, some of whom were your friends who tended to get pretty worried about you.

“Edward Wayne— why the hell is the Chief in my driveway?” his uncle curses from the living room, sounding like he’s speaking through a cigarette in his mouth.

Eddie himself is immediately freaking the fuck out because he figures he must’ve gotten tipped off again. He tries to calculate the quickest way to get you off of him and to all of his cubby holes full of miscellaneous drugs so he can flush them down the toilet before Jim Hopper busts the door down.

And even though you’re not the drug dealer who’s had cops on their ass since they were fifteen in this equation, you look a whole lot more terrified than Eddie does.

Your eyes go wide and the whites of them swim with terror as you launch yourself off of his lap. You don’t spare another glance back at him, not even when you nearly trip over yourself when you shove your sneakers on your feet and shuffle out of the room. He’s forced to follow behind you like a confused puppy as you bound through the trailer at lightning speed.

The haste of your movements startles even Wayne, who halts mid-puff of his cig when you’re in and out of the living room before he can blink. The opening squeak of the screen door and metal slamming against metal is the only thing that punctuates your exit.

“Would it kill you to answer your damn phone every once in a while?” the powerful timbre of Jim Hopper’s angry voice, of which only the man himself could pull off, is muffled until Eddie cautiously slinks onto the porch behind you.

He finds the chief standing beside the Cruiser he’s parked sideways. The door of it is still flung open. A distant beeping sounds from the ignition.

He’s still got on the pressed khakis of his uniform — complete with the golden badge pinned to his chest, darkened sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, and flat-brimmed hat on his head. Even with the majority of his face covered, it does little to hide the anger that radiates off of him like a hot stove eye.

You remain on the porch, shifting your weight on your feet at the top of the steps. “Okay, Hopper, just listen to me for a second—”

“Three days!” he shouts over you, not deterred by your composed nature. “I have been calling you… for three days! Seventy-two hours. No answer!”

Eddie decides to speak up from behind you despite his better judgment. “Yeah, uh, that was kinda my fault,” he confesses with an awkward laugh. “Wouldn’t let her hang up the phone—”

“I’ll deal with you in a second,” Jim interjects firmly and without thinking. He goes back to berating you with an admirable finesse. “Buckley wanted my head on a pike when I wouldn’t file a missing person’s report in the first twenty-four hours, but seventy-two? She was gonna kill me!”

Rather than argue with him, like every fiber of your being so desperately wants to, you make the difficult choice to concede with a heavy sigh. Because you don’t doubt that Robin was on his ass the second she realized you weren’t answering your phone or at your apartment when she and Steve dropped by.

She did tend to be on the overprotective side, after all, which obviously paired well with her melodramatic disposition.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’ve just been… busy.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard the one before,” the man answers bitterly.

“It’s different, Hopper!”

“I’ve heard the one before, too!”

Eddie can only assume that the both of you are communicating telepathically, what with the way your synchronized glares seem to say a thousand words (probably every curse imaginable, if he had to guess) without your mouths ever moving once.

He stands on the outskirts of it all, feeling a bit stuck in the thorniness of such a tense silence, like any slight movement might cut him.

Jim moves slowly, akin to a creeping snake, as his hands raise to remove the glasses from his face. Their lack reveals the ice-cold glare that was previously hiding beneath them.

“Get in the car—”

“—No,” you reject just as the direction leaves his mouth because you knew it was coming.

Jim inhales sharply and smacks his lips against his teeth, like a father whose child is most ardently testing his patience. He plants his work boot in the gravel and his hand on his hips. His steel gaze goes far off for a moment before flitting back to you again.

“…Get in the car or I put you in handcuffs.”

Your breath hitches at the threat. You squint over at him. “You wouldn’t.”

Jim smiles at you, but it’s more threatening than anything else. “We both know that I would.”

Eddie’s eyes flit between the both of you. He can tell that Hopper’s serious and that you’re trying to decide whether or not to call his bluff, with your arms crossed defensively over your chest and lips pursed in a tight line.

You ultimately decide not to. Because Hopper has, in fact, done that before. And even though the circumstances are very, very different, you wouldn’t put it past him to do it again. So you all but stomp your foot like a protesting child and spin on your heel to storm back inside the trailer.

Eddie’s nervous gaze flits between your disappearing form and the storm cloud of a police chief standing in his driveway. When their eyes lock, he realizes he should probably say something. He cocks his thumb over his shoulder and stammers, “I should— I should probably…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. He catches the front door before it shuts and slithers through the crack of it to follow in behind you.

“Wait, was he— was he being serious about that?” Eddie wonders once you’re back in his bedroom.

It feels a lot less cozy than it did minutes before, less like the bubble of refuge that you thought nobody could pierce and more like a lonely space that feels entirely too empty. You pluck your things scattered around his room, and it starts to feel less and less like home with parts of you gone from it.

“I don’t know,” you answer within a sigh as you collect your cardigan from the back of his desk chair and shrug the thing back over your shoulders again.

“But it’s happened before?”

“Yeah. Once. When I was…” you confess quietly, then trail off. You get your bag from his nightstand and haphazardly shove your scrunchie, sunglasses, and chapstick into the bottom of it. “…When I was in a bad way— it doesn��t matter now.”

Eddie so desperately wants to pry.

He’d wanted to make a joke before, about the handcuffs — something less than tasteful about them and you and Hopper and some good ol’ freaky deaky that you'd scold him for after. But he decides not to now because you sound so strangely solemn about the whole thing, as though it was a story you buried deep with the intent of never bringing it up again.

“You don’t have to go with him if you don’t want to, you know that, right?”

“Of course, I do,” you scoff at his worries, not nearly as threatened by Jim as the rest of Hawkins. You move to stand in front of him in the center of his room and meet his furrowed brows with a soft grin. “He’s not gonna do anything, he’s just pissed. He’ll berate me on the drive back to my apartment and then it’ll be like nothing ever happened.”

That seems to please Eddie well enough, though he’s still a bit disheartened at your leaving.

“I guess we couldn’t keep spending time together like this, huh?” he teases lightly, like the realization of it doesn’t make his chest ache. “Sorta forgot about the rest of the world… whatever that is.”

“It was fun while it lasted,” you tell him with a shrug and a whimsical sigh.

“Wait for me, will ya?” he jokes, if only to make you laugh and to feel like he’s stuck in some sickly sweet ending of a romcom for a couple moments more.

You roll your eyes at his dramatics but let him wrap you in his arms anyway. His hands find purchase on your elbows, thumbs rubbing soothingly along the outsides of them. “How about a kiss, then?” he offers when the urge to feel you because too great to bear. “For our ten-minute anniversary and all?”

“You never have to ask me, Eds,” you assure with a laugh. You rise to the tips of your toes and he meets you halfway.

Home is in your mouth. It’s warm and cozy and safe there. It’s easily the most familiar place he’s ever known, with your bottom lip nestled between his own. He feels homesick when you part from him.

“You’re not mad at me?” he wonders quietly, feeling a bit like a cowering child from where he stands in front ahead of you — eased only when you shake your head almost immediately in response.

“No. I couldn’t be even if I wanted to, I think.”

“Okay. That’s… That’s good.”

“We can talk about it later, if you want. After I get lurch off my ass.”

He tries not to smile too wide, but it’s hard not to beam every time he looks at you. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll… I’ll see you around, I guess?” he stumbles over himself, having forgotten how to say goodbye to you.

It’s equally as hard for you too, it seems, because you nod at him and turn to leave and then realize once you’re halfway down the hallway that you might not survive if you don’t kiss him again.

So you turn and rush back, catching Eddie with his back turned and spinning him around so you can peck him again. You feel his cheeks heat beneath your palm and his sigh against your cupid’s bow and his lips melt against your own.

You etch each tingling sensation into the edges of your mind in the hope that you won’t drive yourself completely insane when you inevitably start to miss him like crazy.

You focus on that and on him when you find Hopper and his stupid proud dad smirk. It’s the only reason you don’t punch him in the jaw and tuck and roll out of the Cruiser when the silence becomes so slowly insufferable.

You’re starting to think Jim left the radio off on purpose. You’ve never known the guy not to drive around without the strumming of an old-school folk song to accompany him. You figure it must be some sort of intimidation tactic, to make you so uncomfortable that you break. You’re a lot closer to that than either of you realize.

You spare a glance over at the man next to you. He hasn’t looked at you once since you get in the car. He’s got one hand at three o’clock on the steering wheel and the other with its elbow propped up on the door as he scratches at the stubble on his jaw.

He’s too at ease not to be bothered. This is obviously some kind of front he’s putting on to conceal his inner irritation.

You give on the lecture you’d been trying to prepare yourself for and exhale sharply through your nose. Your fingers fidget on your thighs as you kick your restless feet up on the console.

“Get your feet off the dash,” Jim scolds without missing a beat.

You huff and obey. “Okay, this is crazy— can’t you just yell at me already?”

He barely wastes a second.

“I cannot believe you right now!” he seethes through gritted teeth, stewing in a dad-like sort of anger.

“It was three days, Hopper!”

“You know what happened the last time no one heard from you for three days?” he shouts back.

You tip your head back against the seat and groan. You should’ve known he was going to play that card.

He waves an accusatory finger between the both of you. “You and me— we had a deal, remember? You let me check in on you. You agreed to that. You visit your little high school friends, and I see you at work, so I can make sure you’re not off somewhere killing yourself.”

Hopper becomes a casualty to the tense silence he created then, when you don’t retort with some comeback of your own and force him to feel every ounce of pressure from the leaden quiet.

He sighs a great big, too loud sigh and shifts in his seat. His softening gaze flits between you and the road. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean it like that, okay? I just meant it, you know, figuratively. I wasn’t… trying to be mean.”

“When have you ever cared about being mean?” you monotone.

“I don’t,” he assures. “I’m just not trying to hurt your feelings, alright? Jeez…”

You try not to take too much pride in the man’s half-apology, though you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a little bit rewarding.

Jim Hopper’s practically an iceberg. He only melts for his kid, Joyce Boyers, and you, apparently.

It’s why he’s always so damn protective over you. He’s developed this sort of deep-rooted urge to keep you safe after watching you make every wrong decision a human being could possibly make. And when you mess up, because you do mess up, he feels like it’s partially his fault — that, if he’d done more, he could’ve kept you safer.

It makes you feel like a burden most of the time, but you know it’s above yourself and mostly out of your control.

You’d known of each other for a while before you really met, because a troublemaker and police chief in such a small town are bound to. But somewhere down the line, he found you in a valley of mourning for someone that was still alive and you found him in a black hole of grief for someone who wasn’t. The empty and infinite voids within you both were stitched slowly together all over again.

Jim Hopper was the dad you never had. You were the daughter he couldn’t.

And you thought something might change after he adopted El. You figured he might forget about you because it wasn’t like it was his job to watch after you or anything. Playing pretend always felt nice, but you knew it wasn’t real.

It was to Jim, though, who’d developed a similar adoration for you as the one he had for Sara. He hasn’t been able to forget about you in the same way he hasn’t been able to forget about her.

Every night, after he’s scrubbed the day off his body and washed it all down with a lukewarm beer, he lays on his pull-out bed in the small living room of his cabin and goes through a checklist in his head.

He makes sure that he’s checked on El and reminds himself to wake up early to make her breakfast the next morning before he brings Joyce coffee at Melvald’s — Joyce. She always comes next on his list, always right after El, and then you.

He forces himself to calm down when his blood pressure inevitably spikes at the thought of not having heard from you all day. He reminds himself that he saw you at work on his lunch break and that he’ll see you again tomorrow.

Jim hums to himself as he settles more comfortably into his springy cot, deciding that he’ll try a new wine he can’t pronounce when he sees you at Enzo’s the next day and that he’ll drink it while he rambles about Joyce or El’s new boyfriend.

He drifts to sleep with thoughts of Sara.

You’re as ingrained into his mind as every other person he’s grown to love.

He stopped worrying about never getting you out a long time ago. Like a tomato sauce stain on a dress shirt, he knows he’ll never get you out of his head. He knows even more so that he doesn’t want to — no matter how much you annoy him or how angry you make him when you don’t answer his calls.

“Sorry…” you murmur and swallow down whatever mundane argument you could’ve spewed then, at the result of his sudden warmth. You turn to gaze out the window and trace the edges of the puffy white clouds with your eyes. “I wasn’t thinking about that — the… deal, or whatever… Honestly, I was a little too busy being happier than I think I’ve ever been in my life, so…”

You don’t see the dramatic eye roll he gives you in response, but you can’t miss the hearty groan that spills from his mouth.

“What?” you laugh in response. “Have you never been a kid in love before?”

It’s almost jarring how he goes from huffy to concerned in a fraction of a second. His head snaps over to you, jaw clenched and eyes suddenly stern and swimming with a lingering fear.

“Love?” he repeats like he must’ve heard you wrong. “Love— That’s— That’s what this is?”

You shrug. “I don’t know… Maybe…”

His eyes flutter shut for a moment. “Please don’t tell me you’ve said that to each other yet. This guy was just a crush four days ago.”

“No, Hopper. We haven’t. I mean, he literally just told me he was a virgin, so I don’t think we’re even close to—”

“A virgin?” Jim echoes, voice high-pitched and giddy. He beams at you from beneath his bushy mustache and slaps you a little too hard on your arm when he laughs. “Shit, teacup. Are you runnin’ out of options over there or somethin’?”

You twist your body to hit him back harder with your right hand. “It’s not funny, Hopper,” you scold. “He’s nice.”

“You said that about Hargrove once—”

“This is different,” you monotone before the words have the chance to leave his mouth.

“Yeah? How do you know?”

The question stumps you for a moment because you don’t know — you can’t.

You’d never admit it out loud, but Hopper was right; you’re still not quite sure how you ever could’ve thought that Billy Hargrove was a good guy, but you did. You felt a similar feeling of elation with him as you do now with Eddie, an otherworldly sort of happiness that makes you feel like you’re the only person it’s ever happened to.

And here you are now, sometime later and reveling in the aftermath, still gluing pieces of your shattered heart together.

You treat love like a drug. You use and use and use until it stops being a fun thing and becomes a crutch you can’t live without. That’s always when it starts to hurt you, but you’re in too deep to stop craving it.

And you know it’s bound to happen all over again, but you have to believe Eddie’s different or else you might as well fall into the deep pit of despair you’ve been trying this whole time to crawl out of.

He makes you happy, really really happy, and you’d rather gamble that he hurts you than give it all without even trying.

“I… don’t,” you conclude after a few moments.

Jim seems surprised by your admission, shooting you an incredulous look with his untamed brows raised to his hairline.

You meet his look with a wavering grin. “But he makes me really happy, Hop. Like… It feels like it should be illegal or something. He makes me feel so good my heart hurts. There’s like this—”

“Ugh,” the man grumbles in disgust, sullen all over again.

“I didn’t mean it like that, you weirdo,” you chide.

A grin twitches beneath his mustache in response. “I know you didn’t… ‘Cause Munson’s a virgin.”

“Oh my god!” you groan. “I didn’t even mean to tell you that, okay? Leave him alone— and a swear to god, Hopper, if you make fun of him—”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with it, alright? I mean, he’s got the expert around to show him the ropes— ow!” You cut off his stupid joke and accompanying sardonic grin with a fist to his shoulder.

Steve and Robin tend to be quite the formidable duo.

They’ve barely got a brain cell to rub together between them, but there’s still something strangely intimidating about them when they’re both angry. It feels a bit like they’re your I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed parents, and you’re the scolded child taking your lashings in the form of a lecture.

It’s what you feel like now, sitting across from them in your designated booth at Benny’s Burgers — the one by the window in the corner. It’s far enough away from the bustle of the entrance but close enough still to gossip about the assholes you used to know from high school when they walk through the door.

“You scare the shit out of us when you go AWOL like that, you know?” Steve confesses, still soft even though you know there’s a more upset part of himself he keeps hidden for now.

His chocolate gaze flits between you and the pile of fries in the middle of the table that the three of you share. He finds the one covered in the most salt and pops it into his mouth.

“AWOL?” you echo with a distant laugh when you realize how much he sounds like Hopper. “It was three days.”

“Yeah, and you fell off the face of the earth,” Robin retorts, half-muffled through the hearty gulp of strawberry milkshake starting to melt in her mouth.

“You guys are acting like I went halfway across the country,” you scoff. “I was with Eddie. At his trailer.”

“Exactly!”

Steve’s face contorts mid-bite. “Wait, you were with him? The freak?”

It makes you roll your eyes. He’d been too busy hopelessly flirting with the waitress at the counter to hear the entire recounting of your absence to Robin, though it was more of you gushing about it than anything else.

“Yep,” you answer.

“You skipped out on movie night to be with… Eddie Munson?” he reiterates for himself, as though there was any correlation between watching the same three movies while gorging on greasy junk food with your best friends and falling more in love with a guy you were already head over heels for as he tried to explain away the unopened box of condoms collecting dust underneath his bed.

Both are equally fun in their own ways, but totally totally different.

“How did you survive without me, Steven?” you joke back in response.

“He didn’t,” Robin quips.

“So… what? You guys just went on some kinda bender? I don’t get it. Did you just fuck the entire time or something?”

“Well, contrary to popular belief, I can actually spend time with someone and not fuck them—”

“Okay, that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“And to answer your question — no, we didn’t fuck,” you confess, then elaborate more slowly, a tad bit awkwardly. “Because he told me today that… he is a… virgin.”

Your words seem to settle over each of them differently. Robin stills with her lips wrapped around the candy-cane striped straw then furrows her brows, as though their meaning hits her a few seconds after the fact.

Steve, meanwhile, goes entirely agape in an amazed sort of shock. His eyes go wide, his brows fly up and hide beneath the bangs that hang down over his forehead, and his jaw falls open. And then he starts to smile, a subtle hint of a grin on the corners of his pink lips, like he finds it funny.

“I knew it,” he murmurs to himself.

“…Why are you smiling like that?”

His smirk widens. “That freak said he screwed Vicki Carmichael senior year. I knew he was lying.”

“And why do you look so proud of yourself, exactly?” Robin asks him.

“Because now I feel less bad about never fucking her,” the boy explains like it’s obvious. He set his elbows on the table and gestures wildly with his hands. “I always thought the freak one-upped me because she, like, never gave me the time of day after Hargrove came along, you know? But… It’s good to know that I’m still king.”

His delighted grin is met with confused looks from both you and Robin, who look upon him with twisted eyebrows and squinted eyes.

“Are you not aware of how strange everything that comes out of your mouth is?” you ask him, only partly joking.

“At least that settles why he wouldn’t let you give him a blow job,” the brunette girl concludes with a shrug as she slouches against the booth. “Poor guy was probably shitting bricks about it.”

You realize then that it does make sense, why he’d always been so adamant about your pleasure and never his own. Why he always touched you like you were some fragile thing he might break, and like everything was new to him. Because it was new to him. All of it.

And even though it baffles you to no end how he went his entire life without someone wanting to jump his bones (because truth be told, you’re doing a terrible job at hiding your want to do just that), the fact still remains — Eddie Munson is a virgin.

He’s a virgin with an acute infatuation for the local slut, both of you freaks in your own right.

It just adds more intricacy to a puzzle that already feels so complicated.

“I’ve never been with a virgin before,” you admit quietly, mostly to yourself, as you train your gaze on the straw wrapper you curl around your finger. “It’s different… Scary.”

“Why?” Robin wonders aloud.

“I don’t know. I just— I don’t know what to do now.”

“Just do what you always do,” Steve tells you like it’s that simple. He folds his arms on the table and leans in closer to you. “Experience is good. Okay? Experience is key.”

“No, it’s not that. I think I’m just… I’m scared I’m gonna treat him the way, you know, that I was treated. And I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna do that to him.”

You’re not sure when the shift started, when you stopped being a person to people. You only know that you were something less than that. Somewhere between junior and senior year, you become a plaything that anyone could do anything they wanted to with, and you were too starved for physical affection to tell them otherwise.

You liked the attention. You liked feeling loved, even if it was only for a minute and a half, and all you had to show for it was a pool of cooling come on your belly.

Eddie’s the fragile thing now that you were then.

He was a delicate little thing that can break so easily, something you could split in half if you wanted to.

You don’t.

You want so desperately to be kind, but you’re scared you won’t know how to, because no one’s ever been kind to you.

Steve reaches across the table for you, taking a wild stab at an attempt for affection after several months of being scared to touch you — he did enough of that, he thought, and he’d hurt you. But he can see the lingering ache hiding in your glazed-over eyes and feels an overwhelming urge to quell your worry.

Five warm fingers wrap around your wrist, not too tight or too strong, just enough to stop you from cutting circulation off to the tip of your pointer finger and to remind you that he’s still there.

“Trust me,” he tells you with a sudden soft swimming in his caramel-colored eyes and a smile playing on his lips. “You couldn’t do that to anybody. Not even if you wanted to.”

Your heart nearly stops at his words, at the sheer kindness of them, and at the way he holds you in the soft way you’re used to only Eddie holding you. Your eyes go wide when they flit up to him and then start to sting with the weight of unshed tears.

You’re quick to blink them away though, while you playfully shrug him off and joke — “stop being so nice before I get the wrong idea, Harrington” — because it’s easier than accepting his tenderness.

Robin takes one look at his fond gaze, all gooey and dripping with honey, and then at your rolling eyes and accompanying shy grin, and groans at the softness of it all. She slides out from the confines of the booth and grumbles something about getting a refill on her milkshake.

“Some fries too, while you’re up?” Steve offers with a hopeful grin.

He’s met with the girl’s signature scowl.

“Please,” you finish for him.

Robin grins. “Anything for you,” she croons, if only to make the boy pout, before skipping off to the counter.

She leans her elbows upon the red wooden laminate top and smiles that same sickly sweet smile for Benny by the grill — no doubt trying to get her refills for free.

Even though the bearded man seems unimpressed with her presence, you know that he’ll give them to her free of charge. He’s always had a soft spot for her, one of the only people in town who could rival his wit.

The door dings open, a familiar and high-pitched chime that often becomes more frequent as the evening progresses. This time it lets in a foreign, bitter breeze when the door swings open and closed again.

You can feel the chill from a distance — it resembles the crispness of autumn despite being comfortably settled in the middle of March. It nearly takes your breath away, prickles your skin and makes you grimace back a shiver.

When your eyes leave Steve, a difficult feat considering he’s doing an alarmingly good impression of a walrus by sticking fries in his upper lip, you find that it wasn’t abnormally cold air at all. It was a Peter Parker spider sense form of anxiety that had felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over you.

Billy Hargrove used to turn heads when he walked into a room.

Now he just sucks all the air out of it.

And it’s not like you haven’t seen him since the break up; for a while, the asshole was painted on the backs of your eyelids — he all but haunted your consciousness. You’ll see him around town on occasion, in his sunglasses and jean jacket and too-tight denim pants, while he struts around Main Street with his new girlfriend (otherwise known as, his flavors of the month).

You think this is the first time you’ve been in the same room as him since your split, though. It feels like it must be with the way your throat starts to tighten and you forget how to breathe.

All at once, you’re scrambling for an exit. It’s like Billy’s a fire and his smoke is rapidly filling your lungs. Your legs start to tremble when your adrenaline spike. Your brain tells you to get out as quickly as you can before he burns you.

Steve notices the look of fear flood your features like a dark storm cloud. You were laughing just seconds before the door opened, equal parts with him and at him, but now you just looked terrified — like a child who’s just spotted a boogeyman in her closet.

He turns in the booth to find what haunted thing has just caught your eye and finds that it’s worse than any monster you could conjure up. It’s Billy fucking Hargrove, with his pretty hair and his pretty smile and his pretty girl under his arm.

His presence filled targeted, almost. Like he chose to come to this diner, on this day and at this time just to fuck with the group of you.

“Don’t even look at him,” Steve advises when he turns back to you. “Look at me, okay? He’s not even worth it. That asshole doesn’t deserve to ruin our day.”

And you try to listen to him. You try really, really hard to let him change that subject to the cold fries or Robin taking too long or a combination of the two, but you can’t focus on him. You’re already so overwhelmed at the sight of Billy that you can’t focus on anything else but him.

You settle on the fact that you might just have to drag Steve and Robin out by their wrists because you can’t sit in this booth any longer, and you definitely aren’t hungry anymore.

And that’s when he spots you.

Your eyes lock and you freeze, immediately averting your gaze but catching the sudden sparkle in his own as he grins a sly, sadistic grin.

“No way,” you hear him say with a laugh under his breath. The sound of his voice makes you tense. You hadn’t realized how at peace you’d been all this time without having to hear it. Now it feels like so many little needles piercing your skin.

“Fancy seeing you guys here,” he greets after he’s made a b-line for your booth and dragged Vicki Carmichael along with him. He smiles with all of his pearly whites while he smacks pungent wintergreen gum between them.

When he slides into the booth beside you, he does so without invitation, and forces Vicki to slink in next to Steve.

And like it wasn’t already awkward enough, you know Vicki — like, know her, know her. There was a drunken makeout at a Halloween party in ’82. Then a one night stand with her brother before he left for college in ’83. And then her Tom Selleck clone of a father at a sleepover for her eighteenth birthday in ’85.

You’re not exactly proud of it, but you’ve gotten a rather hefty taste of her family tree, and the fact that both of you know it makes it that much more uncomfortable.

“We’re kinda busy here, Hargrove,” Steve tells him when he notices how comfortable he’s making himself in your booth.

“Ooh… Is this a little date?” Billy teases with a grin.

Steve’s face falls. “…No.”

“Oh, right,” he nods, though the sardonic lilt in his voice tells you that he already knew the answer. He crosses his arms on the tabletop and turns to look at you with eyes bluer than any ocean. They flicker up and down your form. Suddenly, you feel self-conscious in your baggy jean and tank top duo.

“You’ve been seeing that guy, haven’t you? What’s his name again? The, uh— the freak?”

“His name is Eddie,” Steve answers for you, defending him because you can’t find the words to.

“That’s it,” Billy snaps his fingers, then points. He nudges you with his shoulder. The familiar feel of his jean jacket against your skin makes you wince. “God, you must be runnin’ out of steam over there, huh? I mean… the freak? Seriously? You couldn’t do any better than that?”

The jokes were tolerable coming from Jim and Steve and Robin — they weren’t funny by any means, but you could stomach them because you knew they were jokes. But this? This was just to hurt you. And it works too easily because Billy knows exactly how to break you. He knows all the wires to cut and buttons to push because the puzzle of shattering your psyche is one he memorized long ago.

“He’s actually a really nice guy,” you manage through a tight throat, still staring at your fidgeting hands.

“Well, that’s good,” he hums like you need his approval. “It’s about time, right?”

You huff and choose to entertain him despite your better judgment. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He only shrugs. “I don’t know... Just, you know, that found a guy willing to settle for you. That’s all.”

“Settle?” you repeat, trying to laugh despite how tiny your voice sounds.

“You know what I mean, c’mon,” the blonde boy chuckles. “Sluts are fun and all, but they’re not the kinda girls you wanna settle down with. Steve knows what I mean.”

“No, I don’t,” Steve monotones quickly and without thinking, gaze hardened and jaw clenched. “And you need to leave.”

“I”m hungry, Billy,” Vicki whines, feeling every ounce of the tension surrounding her — like syrup or quicksand. She slides her permed bangs from her eyes and tucks a rogue strawberry strand behind her ear in a nervous tick. “Can’t we just get something to eat?”

“Alright, alright. I know when I’m not wanted,” Billy chuckles.

You grumble bitterly under your breath. “Apparently not…”

“I’ll see you around, Harrington,” Billy singsongs with a grin that wreaks of insincerity while his girlfriend slides out from the booth. He turns to look at you and squints. “Don’t be a stranger, alright? Matter of fact, point Munson my way, and I’ll give him a few pointers.”

You’re uncowed by his offer and angered by his mention of Eddie. Your eyes are stern and unwavering as you meet his gaze for the first time since he sat down beside you.

“I think you could learn a thing or two from him, actually,” you retort, words sounding sweeter than the venom lingering behind them.

Billy’s grin only widens, impressed by your arguing. “Ooh… I forgot about the mouth you had on you, sweetheart.”

The use of the nickname makes you cringe. It doesn’t sound nearly as fulfilling as it does when it comes from Eddie. Now, it just sounds artificial — degrading.

He leans in close to you like he’s about to tell you a secret and splays his arm along the back of the booth behind you. The nicotine on his breath makes you grimace; it’s intoxicating when it comes from Eddie, disgusting from the boy sitting next to you.

His eyes are bluer so up close, darker than you remember them being, and you notice he’s trimmed his usual stubble to a patchy mustache. He looks like the grown-up version of the boy you used to know, visually more mature but still the same in his way.

“When he gets bored of you — because, let’s be serious, he will get bored of you — you know where to find me,” Billy murmurs to you, a cynical smirk on the edges of his lips. “I’ll make sure you stay nice and broken in for the next dozen guys that want a taste—”

Steve can’t hear a word from where he sits across the booth, but he’s fuming with fists clenched under the table anyway. He hates how close Billy is to you, more so how uncomfortable you look with the proximity and how his words make you flinch.

“Alright, you need to leave,” he blurts. “Now.”

Before the blonde could respond with a quip of his own, Robin all but teleports to the head of the table. She’s standing in front of the four of you suddenly, carrying a basket of fries and a strawberry milkshake and wearing a frown on her face.

“You’re in my seat, dickwad,” she monotones, even though she hadn’t been sitting next to you before. She’s not the least bit threatened by the Californian douchebag.

Billy smiles up at her anyway. “I was wondering where the third musketeer was! Still a carpet muncher, Buckley?”

“Happily.”

“What do ya say me and you head up to Lover’s Lake later?” the boy offers despite his date shifting awkwardly a few feet away. It’s a joke, for reasons that are more than obvious, and that’s what makes it so unbearably unfunny.

He slinks out from the booth. The lack of his warmth is strangely comforting and you’re able to breathe for the first time in five minutes. He stretches his back out when he stands to his full height in front of Robin, then shrugs with his hands splayed on his hips.

“Maybe you just need some good dick. I mean… we’re gonna die anyway, right?”

“I’d rather,” she quips with a rouge-tinted smile.

The way it makes him laugh is startling. He finds a strange humor in being rejected — in most things, really. You still haven’t forgotten the cackles that left his bloodied mouth when Steve delivered blow after blow to the boy’s face in the middle of his living room, like it was all a fun game to him.

That was, of course, before Billy got the upper hand and nearly killed Steve that night. He laughed about it that too, until Max knocked him out with a baseball bat.

He’s got the same grin on his face now as he did then when he turns to look at you. A pink and pretty smirk, just wide enough to reveal the dimple in his left cheek. It’s nothing short of taunting, like he’s mocking you without having to say anything at all.

“Don’t be a stranger, alright?” Billy repeats. He keeps smacking his gum between his teeth and winks at you before spinning on the heel of his boot. He guides Vicki with him to the counter with a hand on the back pocket of her jeans.

Even when Robin slides in next to you and effectively pierces the bubble of tension that had already started to shrink with Billy’s leaving, you still find it hard to breathe. You have to keep reminding yourself, forcing oxygen in and out with wobbling breaths through your nose, or else you just stop altogether.

The other two move on rather quickly, having no trouble finding their voices again after he’s gone. Their words are muffled, though, like they’re underwater.

“I forgot what an asshole he was,” Robin grumbles.

“Well, I didn’t,” Steve retorts, eyes scanning the basket of fries for the most strategic pick of the bunch. “I can still barely breathe through my nose.”

“That’s because you didn’t go to a doctor, dingus.”

“Because I didn’t need a doctor, Robin.”

“Yeah, because being concussed three times in two years is so healthy—”

Your eyes act like magnets as they stay locked on Billy’s form. He leans in closer to Vicki to tell her something, then pats her once on the ass before walking towards the exit again. The door dings when he swings it open. Through the window, you catch him pulling out a red and white pack of cigarettes — the same brand of Marlboro Reds he’s been smoking since he was in middle school.

“You okay?” you hear Steve say, but it sounds too far away for you to realize he’s talking to you.

Robin nudges you with her shoulder to jog you from your stupor. You blink hard once and then turn to her with wide eyes. “What?”

“You doing alright over there?” the girl wonders.

“Yeah,” your answer is too quick and too high-pitched to be true. “Fine.”

“Like, fine as in you’re actually fine, or fine as in, if I leave you alone for too long, I’m gonna find you living under a bridge like a troll?”

You roll your eyes at her. “Fine as in, if someone bums me a cigarette, I’ll be good as new.”

Steve huffs when you hold out the palm of your hand toward him. He’s the only one of you who smokes recreationally enough to carry a lighter and pack of cigs with him. You swear he only keeps it with him because the weight of them makes him feel cool. You’re grateful for them now, though, and for the escape they unexpectedly provide you.

His fingers are warm when they brush your hand. The metal zippo he drops in the center of it is far colder and carries a comforting sort of weight to it. He thumbs a cigarette from the pack for you, and you take it with a sardonic smile and a sickly sweet “thank you, Stevie.”

Robin gets out of the booth to let you slide out of it.

The door chimes again, this time over your head when you open it.

Fresh, spring air nearly knocks you on your ass when it hits you for the first time. You realize then, that you’d forgotten to tell yourself to breathe and now your vision’s all swimmy. The cool breeze tries its hardest to quell your swelling anger, but you’re still at a simmering boil. Fists clenched over the lighter and cig duo in your palm and your sneakers slapping angrily against the cracked pavement.

That’s what signals your arrival, the raging stomps that echo in the alleyway Billy takes his smoke break in.

The boy takes a puff of his cigarette and smirks on the exhale at the sight of you. All he needs is one glance to see how angry he’s made you. It’s an innocent, childlike sort of rage that’s got you all scrunched face and red — a heartbroken girl on a war path.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me, sweetheart,” he taunts with his signature sarcastic smile. He holds his arms at his sides, like he’s waiting for some kind of embrace from you. “You used to be like that all the time — all over me, you know? Clingy.”

“You know what you used to be?” you ask him once you’ve planted yourself a few feet away from him, fists shaking at your sides in a nearly overwhelming mixture of rage and apprehension.

“What’s that?”

“Nice! You used to be nice! Or do you not remember that?” you wonder rhetorically. Your anger fades slowly, an ebbing tide, as a reminiscent sadness eclipses your fury — a flood of blue in all your red.

The sharp frown between your brows crumbles and so does your clenched jaw as your harsh features crumple like a balled-up piece of paper. You look upon the man that broke your heart with all the shattered pieces of it.

“You used to let me sleep over at your place when I was too scared to sleep alone at mine, and you’d bring me food when I told you I hadn’t eaten all day, and you’d take me on drives when you knew I hadn’t left my apartment in days,” you ramble in a single breath, gesticulating wildly with your hands — waving them at him and at you and the still air between. They fall hopelessly to your sides.

“You used to be so sweet, Billy…” you conclude with a wavering breath. Your chest trembles on the inhale as you straighten out your shoulders and lift your chin, trying your best not to look as defeated as you feel. “And you know what you are now?”

Billy grins that stupid grin at you, the one that almost looks kind. Almost. It’s still soft in all its insincerity, like a parent entertaining their kid that’s gone on some meaningless tangent.

“No, sweetheart,” he answers after a beat. “What am I?”

“Not nice.”

He scoffs out a laugh.

“You used to tell me, all the time, how scared you were about ending up like you’re dad—” he tenses at the mention of the man, of his own monster in his own closet. “—He’d beat you black and blue every night, and I’d bandage all your cuts and put makeup on you when you begged, so you could go out and pretend like everything was normal. And you know what? You’re just like him!”

Billy doesn’t cower when you walk closer to him. He’s got no reason to be afraid of you, but your words hit him in a place far deeper than a thousand bloodied fists.

“What he did to you, is exactly what you do to me… Or do you know see that?” you don’t wait for a sarcastic reply, mostly because you wouldn’t see the indicators of it through the tears that blur your vision. “You’re not punching me, but it feels like you are. You break me over and over and over and I have to pretend like everything’s just normal and that we—”

“Real mature of you. To bring out the dad-card,” he interjects, if only to stop your ramblings so that he might not have to hear the truth that comes with them.

“You used to he nice,” you repeat, you agonize, you deflate. “Or… Or did you never use to be?”

The shell of your mind answers for you, paints itself with all the memories you’ve been trying like hell to forget for the past six months. It’s easier to pretend the bad things aren’t real than unravel all the reasons why they were bad to begin with, you find.

The negative memories come together like renaissance paintings — dark and gloomy and blotted with too realistic tears and spatters of blood. The oil stains the backs of your eyelids, destined to remain there forever like paintings in museum that’ll stand the test of time if you nurse them well enough.

You hadn’t yet been able to forget the screams and the cracks of fists colliding with bone. They tend to keep you up at night, even when you squeeze your eyes shut and beg for your memory to be wiped away completely.

Billy crouches over Steve’s chest and pummels wholehearted punches to the boy’s face, never tiring in their force, even well after the boy goes limp underneath him. You beg for him to stop while trying like hell to shield Max from the sight of it all.

For a while, you’d blamed yourself for it — for Max being there in the first place and for Steve’s cuts and bruises.

You’d taken the girl and sought refuge in the Harrington home after witnessing a rather heated fight between Billy and his father. There was a sudden urge within you to take her far away from it before it ended how it always did — in weeping cuts and salty tears and insincere apologies when the cops were called.

But you made it worse anyway.

For Max, for Steve.

And you apologized profusely for it after, cried to the boy in his bathroom while you nursed his cuts like you were the one who put them there.

When he told you it wasn’t your fault, you didn’t believe him. Not until now. Not until you realized that Billy had always been angry — always raging with an ocean of fear and grief and violence.

When he fought with his sister, you thought it was normal, that that’s just what siblings did. But the way she cried to you after couldn’t have been normal. Neither could the unearthly fury that washed over Billy like a riptide when he found out you and Max had sought safety in Steve The Hair Harrington — angered that it was Steve and that he couldn’t be that for the both of you.

And then there was the fights. The yelling and screaming and crying fights that felt like the end of the world every single time. The kind of fights you shouldn’t be having when you’re eighteen. You thought that maybe there was some normalcy in the cheating and the secrecy and Billy’s accompanying assholery because that was all you’d ever known.

Or maybe because you had to tell yourself that was normal in relationships because you didn’t want your’s to end. Billy was the first guy to give a damn about you in ways that went beyond just sex. How were you supposed to just give that up?

But then there’s Eddie — Eddie The Freak Munson, who was really just sunshine wrapped up in leather jackets and wild hair and chunky rings and metal music. He makes you happy. The sort of happy that makes you suspicious because something bad has to counteract all the goodness he makes you feel.

Maybe that’s what this was.

Seeing Billy after having wrapped yourself in a blanket of Eddie’s warmth made you see somehow more clearly. He loves on you so much that it’s made a mockery of everything else.

Whatever you had with Billy wasn’t normal, it was a goddamn shit show. He loved you when it was convenient and then had you believing it was the real thing, that you wouldn’t find it anywhere else, when you tried to leave him.

It was a lie, all of it.

The realization makes you falter.

“Oh, god…” you sigh, voice fragile like cracking glass. “Maybe you never used to be…”

For the first time ever, you see Billy’s grin shake. The edges of it flitter, like he’s fighting to keep the corners quirked up. And his eyes have gone a lighter shade of blue, the way they always did when he blinked back angry tears as he talked about his father.

It isn’t rage glassing his eyes now. It’s something sadder, but still as real — something you never got from him in the two years you were together.

He tries, still, to cover it all up. He smacks his lips against his teeth, sympathetically. “Sorry it took you this long to figure that out.”

The laugh you exhale then is heavy with sadness. Your smile is far away and so is your gaze as you stumble back from him. You turn your head to the edge of the alley where mom’s with strollers and people in fancy suits bustle on the sidewalk and keep your eyes on the strangers that whiz by you’ll probably never see again.

“This is… This is pointless,” you murmur. His lean form is blurry through the burning tears you blink away. “Every time I see you, it’s just more bullshit so let’s just— let’s just leave each other alone, okay?”

Billy takes a puff from his cigarette. When he sighs, white smoke billows from his plump, pink lips. “That’s a shame… I was just thinking that you were the most interesting you’d ever been.”

The ebbing tide that had just left you rushes back in a bubbling scarlet wave. His words don’t make you sad anymore, they just make you angry all over again because you know you don’t deserve them. And you’re not entirely sure why he’s chosen you to antagonize out of all the other girls who’d made the mistake of falling for him, but you’re too far past the point of not caring to ask.

“Bother me again and I tell Chief Hopper,” you threaten even though you don’t feel very threatening just now. “I know you’re not scared of me, but you’d be stupid to be scared of him.”

“Why’s that?” he wonders before sticking the half-gone stick between his lips again.

“Because he runs Hawkins. And he fucking hates you—” for what you did to me, you almost say. You swallow the words down like bile before they have the chance to spew out. “And… And be nice to Vicki. Okay? She’s too good for you. Don’t do to her what you did to me.”

Your plea for another is the last thing you say to Billy before you turn away from him. You wouldn’t be upset if it was the last thing you ever said to him. You’re grateful for the resounding silence that follows. It’s nothing but the sound of your receding footsteps and the soles of his shoes scrapping the concrete as he snuffs out his cigarette.

There is no snarky remark or insincere plea — just two people who used to love each other that have no idea to exist together anymore.

When you step outside the brick confines of the alleyway, you feel as though a fraying string that had always connected the both of you had been finally cut.

It allows you to take a deep breath in for the first time in months. A lungful of fresh air that cleanses you, body and mind.

And when you catch Steve and Robin idling at the corner and doing a terrible job of pretending like they hadn’t just been eavesdropping, you don’t get upset or angry with them — you don’t feel much of anything, really.

You just hand the boy his lighter and unused cigarette and let them comfort you on the drive back to your apartment.

A misery sandwich. That’s what Robin calls the three of you and the heaping pile you lay in.

Your queen-sized bed is in no way meant to accomodate three moderately sized adults, but you make it work anyway, like you always do.

Steve lays on his back, legs crossed and hands tucked under his head. Robin is on her stomach on the other end of the mattress, arms wrapped around the pillow she smushes the side of her face into. You lay between the both of them — on the both of them. Sprawled out sideways, you’ve got your head on propped up on Steve’s ribcage and your legs thrown over Robin’s thighs.

The awkward position is the most comfortable you’ve ever been.

“I can’t believe that asshole had the nerve to show up to the diner on our day,” the boy rants. “And then sit in our booth, I mean— who does he think he is?”

Robin’s response is mostly muffled by the pillow. “I thought he left, like, forever ago.”

“Maybe he just couldn’t stay away. It’s Hawkins, shit attracts shit, right?” Steve answers with a shrug that jostles your head slightly. It doesn’t little to knock you from your stupor, though, where you’ve been stuck for the better part of the day. You pick at the skin around your nails with little regard for how red and raging it's gone.

He notices this and thumps you on your temple — hard enough for you to feel it, gentle enough that it doesn’t hurt you.

You turn your chin to your shoulder to look over at him. He tilts his own head to stare down at you, honey-tinted gaze somehow stern and soft at the same time. “If he bothers you again, I’ll kill him.”

You’re instantly warmed by his protective disposition. You know that he cares about you, even though you like to joke that he doesn’t. Steve hurt you once, made a promise to himself to make it up to you, and then just never left you alone.

You’re grateful for it.

You’re not sure who’d be the butt of every joke if he wasn’t around.

“Good to know,” you answer, nodding against his side and trying to hide the smile he gives you. You fail. “You think if he breaks your nose again, it’ll pop back into place?”

His face falls. “You’re real sweet, you know that?”

You open your mouth to respond, something along the lines of “I’m always sweet. You of all people should know that, Stevie,” before a knock sounds at the front door. It comes in the several rhythmic raps that Eddie is known to give when he’s got a tune stuck in his head.

Apparently now, it’s the chorus to “Why Can’t This Be Love?” The Van Halen song he said he couldn’t stand before you.

Robin huffs at the sound of the muffled taps. She frowns like a child. “Who the hell…?”

“It’s just Eddie,” you affirm through a half-hearted grunt as you rise from your comfy position.

That brightens the two of them up almost immediately. Her and Steve share a look you can’t place as they grin at one another. Then they turn back to you with identical mischievous twinkles in their eyes. “Your boyfriend is here,” the former of the two singsongs.

You roll your eyes, but make no move to correct her.

When you stand from the bed and make the short journey towards the door, you hear the patter of their feet following close behind you.

“Gonna go all the way tonight?” Steve teases and jabs you on the shoulder. “Do you want us to leave?”

“No, nothing is happening. And yes, I think you should leave,” you monotone playfully.

Robin rushes past you suddenly and grabs the brass door handle before you’re able. She swings it open without thinking twice about it. Her sudden appearance, coupled with the fact that it isn’t you, startles the man on the other side of the door.

Eddie’s umber eyes go wide, brows raising and disappearing beneath his fluffy bangs, as his head jerks back.

“Eddie Munson,” the girl full-names the stranger she’s never spoken a word to before now. She leans against the doorway and effectively blocks the boy’s view of you. Steve, who squeezes himself in beside her, doesn’t make it any easier. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“You too, Buckley…” he wavers, trying to peer past them for any sight of you.

“Perfect timing, Eds,” you call out from behind them. “They were just about to leave.”

He’s relieved at the sound of your voice — even more so at your appearance when the two in front of you step off to the side to toe on their sneakers.

You don’t look much different than when he saw you last. You’ve put on some makeup that’s started to smudge after the long day and changed your baggy sweatshirt for a more fitted tank top and boxers, but other than that you’re still the same. Still familiar and comforting in your way, a home away from home.

His smile is a tired one and it wobbles at the edges. “Oh, shit, am I— am I interrupting something?”

“No,” you’re quick to reassure him. “You’re saving me, actually.”

“Oh, give me a break,” Steve scoffs. “You love us.”

The boy pulls you into a hug before he leaves, and it’s not the rarest thing in the world, but embraces like this do tend to be few and far between. He whispers “use protection” in your ear and then a sharp “ow!” when you jab him in the ribs.

He and Robin smile kindly at Eddie when they walk by him and out the door, but waste barely a second before turning back around and grinning wildly at you. Steve flashes you a thumbs up while she mouths a cartoonish ‘good luck’ — like it’s the first time you and Eddie had ever been alone together. Like they were just on your ass about having been with him this whole time.

You usher Eddie and shut the door behind them. A quiet sort of peace settles on the apartment like a weighted blanket. The boy revels in every bit of its warmth.

Exhaustion drips from him like syrup. He’s sticky with it. His eyes have lost their usual twinkle, weighed down now with the burden of his fatigue. His face has lost most of its color, leaving a pale sheath of monotoned skin, and his hair is wilder than normal, with an unintentional sort of ruggedness to his curls.

It’s what being without you has done to him.

“You okay?” you ask him softly. It almost makes him want to cry.

“Yeah,” he answers anyway and idles in the spot where your kitchen meets your living room. “Just had a pretty shitty day. Wanted to spend time with you.”

“Me too… About the wanting to spend time with you part— and the shitty day part, too, I guess.”

Eddie smiles at your rambling, but purses it to the side to conceal it from you. “And since it is just about our…” he trails off and bends his elbow to check the watch on his wrist. “…Twelve hour anniversary, I picked us up some takeout.”

He sets the plastic bag on the counter. The red logo of Oriental Jade on the side of it makes your stomach roll with a distant hunger. You hadn’t realized how starved you were feeling after you abandoned your early dinner at Benny’s. It makes you more grateful for Eddie, who always seems to be on the same wavelength as you without even trying.

“Keep this up and we’ll be married before we hit hour twenty-four,” you joke as you rifle through the cartons — chow mein, sweet and sour chicken, dumplings, the works.

Eddie settles in next to you, propping his elbows on the countertop. “Well, I’m pretty sure the courthouse opens at nine, so… What were you thinking for the honeymoon? Hawaii? Bora Bora?”

“How about a cabin in the woods where no one can find us?”

“Hmm… Spooky. Sexy. I’m into it.”

You settle in the living room and eat on the couch while She Ra re-runs play on the television. You try to teach Eddie how to use chopsticks, though he can only work them with his non-dominant hand and all the wrong finger placements. You think it’s cute to watch him fumble with them, and you giggle about it until you’re scolding him for trying to feed Bowie some noodles. He laughs as you swat at him.

When all the containers are fully scrapped clean and tossed in the recycling bin, you migrate to the bedroom — which is perhaps too raunchy a phrase to use when the two of you only bury yourselves under the covers to talk shit.

Eddie drags out the chunky box fan you use when the air conditioner goes out in the summer — because it always goes out in the summer — and props it on the chest at the foot of your bed so the covers will billow around the both of you. “And it’s perfect because we can stay in the fort forever and not get hot,” he tells you, all giddy about it like he's a kid again.

“What if I get cold?” you retort.

Without missing a beat, he answers, “Well, lucky enough for you, I know several ways I can warm you up, sweetheart.”

He ditches his leather jacket and strips down to his boxers and settles in beside you underneath the blankets. The two of you lay shoulder to shoulder while you trace absentminded patterns on the palm of his hand and tell him about your day.

You make sure to leave out all the re-traumatizing-Billy-Hargrove bits, though. You focus mainly on the tense drive with Hopper and the small fight you’d had with Steve on the drive to the diner later that afternoon about the lyrics to Love My Way (both of you had been wrong).

Eddie tries his hardest to focus on your story and your fleeting touches, but he’s too far in his own head. You tell him all these things but he can’t stop thinking about himself — about whether or not you might’ve brought him up somewhere in between.

He wouldn’t have blamed you, if you had. Steve and Robin are your closest friends and, for whatever reason, so is Chief Hopper, you’re bound to bring him up eventually. He was just hoping it would’ve been in a better capacity. Maybe about how kind he was or what a god he was in bed — not how he could only be one of those things because he’d never been anything in bed.

“It doesn’t make things weird between us, does it?” he wonders out of the blue.

You halt mid-sentence and turn to him with furrowed brows. “What?”

Eddie realizes then, that the first half of the conversation with you had only happened in his head. He prays that it’s too dark beneath the covers for you to see how red his cheeks get. “Just… What we talked about this morning. About me… you know…” He finds it hard to say the words. Or any of them at all.

“Why would it make things weird?”

“I don’t know. Because I wasn’t… totally honest with you, I guess? I feel a little bad about it, you know?”

“It’s okay,” you assure and turn on your side to be closer to him. Eddie stays on his back, more than happy to let you cuddle further into him. “I guess I do wish you’d said something before, though.”

His chest tightens. “I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t know how to—”

“I’m not saying it to make you feel bad!” you interject quickly when you catch the spiral of regret he was about to twist himself into. You curl tighter into his side, tossing a leg over his thigh and wrapping your hand around his bicep in an effort to melt with him. When he turns to face you, your noses nearly brush.

“That’s not how I meant it. I just meant that, if I’d known before, I wouldn’t have… I would’ve taken things slower. I wouldn’t have been so, you know, so all over you.”

He hates how apologetic you sound. Like there was ever an ounce of him that would want to take back what happened that night at his trailer or a part of him that might hate how much you love on him.

“I liked it. I do like it.”

“Maybe we can just start over,” you offer. “Pretend like none of that ever happened.”

Eddie knows there’s no way in hell he’ll be able to forget about a single damn thing — not his cum stained jeans and how you looked so pretty washing them for him, not the feel of your tits in his mouth or you wrapped around his fingers, not how you made him blow his load all over his fist just by talking to him.

He goes along with it anyway, though, just for you.

“Okay...” he nods slowly, then squints over at you. “You’re still my girlfriend, though, right?”

“Of course I am,” you giggle.

He grins proudly to himself. “Well then… Hope it’s not too early to have our first kiss then?”

It makes you roll your eyes because it’s such an Eddie Munson way of asking to kiss you. You told him earlier the day that he never had to ask you — in fact, you’d prefer it if he’d just kiss you out of the blue and take your breath away without you ever knowing it was coming. But there was something foreign and sweet in his little reassurances.

“Kiss me silly, Eddie Spaghetti,” you beam. He twists on his side to press tiny pecks to your smile.

It’s rather strange, you find, to kiss someone this way without the intention of it ever becoming something more. You kiss him just to kiss him — just to map the outline of his cupid’s bow and memorize the pattern of his tongue. Just to feel him, as much of him as your mouth will allow you to.

With one arm curled under his head and the other cradling your jaw, when his watch alarms — high-pitched beepbeepbeeps in quick succession — it’s sudden and close to your ear.

Your lips click in protest when they part. His are pink and swollen and glossy with your spit. He smiles with them. “Happy twelve hour anniversary, sweetheart.”

“How long are you gonna make that stupid joke?” you laugh like your heart isn’t swelling so much you’re scared it might burst entirely.

“Uh, I was thinking… forever. Yeah. That sounds about right,” he concludes after a moment of feigned thought. He turns his watch off again and you swear you see him set for another twelve hours from now.

“Forever?” you echo.

“Uh-huh. Forever—” he presses his lips to yours once. “—And ever—” Twice. “—And ever.”

Eddie kisses you until you’re flat on your back and surrendering to each of his tiny little pecks. You twist your hands in his hair and let him love on you a little while more. You giggle when his mouth trails from your lips to your chin to your jaw to your neck. Please don’t get bored of me, you beg silently within your laughter.

I don’t think I could even if I wanted to, he answers with each kiss his sprinkles to your starved skin. How could I, when you’re the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me?

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson fic #virgin!eddie munson x reader #virgin!eddie munson

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dreamgrlarchive · 1 year

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Dear dream girl, I really want to be my dream girl but I don’t know where to start. I feel unmotivated most of the time and I only get a burst of motivation at like 3 am. I just what to glow and radiate good energy for myself and find/do what I like

Oh, So You Wanna Be a Dream Girl? 🎀

starting your dream girl journey

Congrats on choosing yourself and your tiara; I am so proud. Prepare to not be liked, to be judged, and to stand out. It’s lonely at the top.

*this guide is for starting the process, not reaching the end result because my version of my own dream girl is inevitably different than yours. bare in mind i’m not holding your hand. i’m nudging you in a good direction.

what is a dream girl?

a dream girl is a girl that has finally fallen in love with who she sees in the mirror. she’s the girl that she can depend on. she has her desired look and she’s on the path to self actualization actively. she’s aware of her branding. she holds herself to the standards she holds other to; and they are HIGH. her self worth isn’t contingent upon a love interest, amount of money, or social status. she’s simply that girl.

do some healing.

yes, i said it. healing. like i’ve said before, you cannot put glitter on literal garbage. that’s not even the slightest bit appealing. you’re gonna journal about your childhood, your biggest influences in life, your biggest fears and how you feel life has treated you. this calls for shadow work. shadow working really helped me figure out some of my toxic traits and how some of the things that were considered normal to me as a child have affected me in the long run. you’re also gonna write hypothetical letters to your loved (and not-so-loved) ones, including yourself. let it all out. say everything you want that person to know. around you or not, dead or alive. prepare to clam up, cry, get angry, feel anxious. good. you should. you feel clammy, hot and sometimes pain when your body is fighting off and healing from a physical sickness. now you’re dealing with the developmental, mental, and emotional parts. you’re doing yourself a disservice choosing to stay the same toxic, nasty, mean, or victimized person you’ve always been.

what do you want?

before you can start to even do the smallest improvements, you have to have a clear goal. or else you’ll just be running around in circles (heh) over grandiose blurry wishful thinking. ultimately resulting in you giving up and choosing to be basic bc it’s easier. what do you want out of life? how do you want to be treated? what do you want to do? what makes you happy? and most importantly, how do you want to feel? see, it’s more than just the frills and glitter. you have to know what you’re trying to get to, internally and externally.

grab a diary, adorn it with pretty little details and commit to it. pair it with your fav writing utensil. outline all of your goals. every single last one of them. you can categorize them, scale them from short to long term, easy to hard. it doesn’t matter. do absolutely what you want to do to make a concrete record of your goals that’s digestible for you.

what are you going to do?

*fabulosity by kimora lee simmons*

compare your dream reality to the one you’re currently experiencing. what is she doing that you aren’t? that’s it. do that. anyone can read blogs about the process and other people success stories but those posts aren’t gonna change your life unless you get up and go for what you want. i don’t know what exactly you desire out of life. you do. so you have the instructions for this journey. the first part was easy, this is simple but not nearly as effortless. it’s up to you and not anyone else. you teach others how to treat you. improvements you can make include better: hygiene, self talk/treatment, outward energy, work ethic, discipline, health, consumed content, relationships, looks, habits.

the work

it’s time to apply yourself. get up everyday and actively work towards your goal. be kind to yourself. take yourself to the doctors. get active. eat right. find your passion. DO THE HEALING.

everyone’s journey is SO different so i’m just going to do a quick rundown of the importance of each of the ten facets of your dream girl journey (that build upon each other. ie; looks do not benefit you when your hygiene is insufficient):

*these facets are loosely based on maslow’s hierarchy of needs

health - are you taking care of yourself? please treat yourself how you would your loved ones. you’ll be surprised how physical issues manifest mentally, and vice versa. get adequate sleep. take baby steps if need be. some of these adjustments may be huge to you. be gracious with your journey.

consumed content - everything you engage in is your diet. the company you keep, food you eat, music you enjoy. you get the idea. do you feel light and ready to take on the day? or do you feel drained and sick more often than not. make some adjustments wherever you see necessary.

hygiene - extremely important. stick to a routine for your hygienic needs. you should have rituals you engage in everyday. don’t forget that your health and hygiene go hand in hand. oral and feminine hygiene is so crazily important. please don’t neglect yourself. i talk about my routines in detail here.

habits - daily habits are so crucial to your lifestyle. adjust these and consciously break your bad habits by supplementing your life with equal and opposite habits.

self talk/treatment - simple. be kind to yourself. hold yourself accountable for flaws and mistakes while loving yourself enough to be patient with the journey of improving.

outward energy - be very aware of the vibes you’re permeating. again this is so a huge determination of how you will be treated and how you will live your life.

work ethic/discipline - it’s gonna take serious accountability to escape the desire to stay comfortable. you have to tell yourself that you deserve *your desired end result* so you will *make specific change/adjustment.* it’s that simple (again simple doesn’t mean easy).

relationships - if you don’t like the way you’re treated by those in your life, those relationships need to be reevaluated. you can make some trims on your circle, have some honest conversations, or adjust your behaviors (because sometimes, YOU are the problem).

passion and career - in order to feel fulfilled in life, we all need a purpose. discover yours. incorporate your passion into your daily life.

looks - develop your signature and hone in on it. looks are very important to your perception (self and public). check out this guide to help with this part. however you wanna feel is how you should display yourself.

be a dream girl!

you’ve discovered all the facets of creating your dream self and reality. now it’s time to apply what you’ve learned. start showing up in life in the fashion you want to be seen in.

that’s it! the rest is up to you!

- xoxo, dreamgrlarchive 🎀

#dream girl journey #my posts #dream girl cultivation #dream girl wellness

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calliesmemes · 1 month

Text

EVEN MORE ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS FROM AROUND THE INTERNET, including quotes from Tumblr, Pinterest, TikTok, and X (formerly known as Twitter), for when a muse wants to lighten up the situation at hand.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“ It’s sea shanty time once again my fellow bastards of the ocean! ”

“ Partner, I reckon that I ain’t been feeling very yeehaw lately. ”

“ I don’t study; I consult the lore. ”

“ Yeah, I understand women — they all want daggers and swords. It’s all quite simple, really. ”

“ Lord forgive me but I may have to make a nonessential purchase. ”

“ Those are bold words for someone in stabbing range. ”

“ Yes I’m a gatekeeper and a hater. I’m also God’s most favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. ”

“ My primary motivations are fear, spite, and aesthetic longing. ”

“ Man — if I had a sword, I wouldn’t be worried about shit. ”

“ It’s not blood that runs through these veins but glitter gel pen ink. ”

“ If I was in a Jane Austen novel, I would be the one sent to the seaside for my health. ”

“ Half of me is a hopeless romantic, and the other half of me is … well … an asshole. ”

“ I am the nicest, sweetest, most rage-filled person I know. ”

“ I hope I give off the vibe to all animals that I am their ally and their friend. ”

“ I see you’re paying attention to someone who is not me. Why is that? ”

“ Normalize letting me talk without making any sense. ”

“ Don’t care, didn’t ask, plus my psychic visions have predicted the outcome of this encounter. ”

“ I could be so much worse. For example, I could start acting like my father. ”

“ Sorry for acting so strange and irregular; It will happen again. ”

“ i love sitting in my room.....alone....a girl in her cave....scheming and plotting and drinking tea. ”

“ These man made horrors are beyond YOUR comprehension. I get it though. ”

“ I’m a goth girl on the inside. On the outside? A father figure. ”

“ I don’t need to face reality; I’m not just that type of girl. ”

“ DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A frickle-frackle? ”

“ I’m about to cha cha real smooth off a fucking cliff. ”

“ Sorry I told you about my trauma. Do you still think I’m hot? ”

“ My priorities aren’t straight and neither am I. ”

“ I have felt permanently guilty for no reason since I was like eight years old. ”

“ Of course I have a lot of pent up rage, you fool! I’ve been the same height since I was twelve years old! ”

“ I was born for shock value. ”

“ Good morning! God has let me live another day and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem. ”

“ Oh, I slept miserably because I was tormented by terrible visions all night. I hope none of them were prophetic! ”

“ Be the surreal nonsense that you want to see in the world. ”

“ Being smart has never stopped me from being a complete fucking idiot. ”

“ My hobbies include knowing things and being right. ”

“ This is good advice, but don’t tell me what to do. ”

“ I hate the idea of authority. What the fuck is someone being superior to me? Bitch I’m gonna take your kneecaps. ”

“ Stop forgiving my crimes! I worked so hard on those! ”

“ My hobbies? Uhhhh, symbolism mostly. Metaphors and implications and the like. ”

“ I may not have any braincells, but I make up for it by having many heart cells. ”

“ I can’t mansplain manipulate manwhore my way out of this one guys! ”

“ Not all your life decisions have to be smart. Some can be purely for cinematic value. ”

“ Sometimes I wish I looked more fragile and feminine like a dainty flower, but I do enjoy looking like I hate everyone. ”

“ Any dream can be a prophetic dream if you’re willing to do some really weird shit. ”

“ girl help there is not enough enrichment in my enclosure. ”

“ BRO, you NEED to stop SUMMONING DEMONS in the FRAT HOUSE. ”

“ I just gave your address to some spiders! ”

“ I disappoint my father as a hobby now. ”

“ I think that the dark circles under my eyes add to my aesthetic actually. ”

“ Good news! I’ve successfully replaced all of my emotions with jokes! ”

“ I have half a braincell left and I’m very scared to use it! ”

“ Listen, son — in this world, it’s either yeet or be yeeted. ”

“ I appreciate the advice, but I think that I’m old enough to make my own bad decisions. ”

“ I’m disappointed in me too. Y’all aren’t special. ”

“ Running from your demons is the best exercise! ”

“ Sorry; I can’t commit any crimes with you. My mom says that I have to study. ”

“ Time flies when you don’t know what the fuck is going on. ”

“ If I run out of tacos, I can no longer maintain my human form. ”

“ Bestie, I don’t think that I can girlboss under these conditions. ”

“ Yeah I’ve had combat training; I can do anxiety attacks! ”

“ Swag is earned, not learned. ”

“ Contrary to popular belief, violence solves a lot. ”

“ I CANNOT STAND YOU ALL so I will SIT DOWN. ”

“ Please God no … I don’t need any more character development right now! ”

“ If you can’t beat ‘em, yeet ‘em. ”

“ Do not put me in a situation. I’m at my limit and I am very tired. ”

“ I may be depressed, but at least I’m not basic. ”

“ It’s MY LIFE and I’ll sabotage it myself, thank you. ”

“ Think twice? Bold of you to assume that I think once. ”

“ At the next inconvenience, I will start biting people. ”

“ Oops I think that I just experienced an emotion. ”

“ Did you know that rats spelled backwards is star? ”

“ One day, I’ll be reincarnated as a pigeon, and I’ll shit on your head. ”

“ On the outside, I’m a baddie — but on the inside, I’m a saddie. ”

“ My grandma bullies me through the Ouija board. ”

“ I’m a cool person if you can just look past my personality. ”

“ Beetles don’t have to do taxes, and I think that is a beautiful way to live. ”

“ I hope that you get your character development arc soon. ”

“ Those are some nice kneecaps … It’d be a shame if someone stole them … ”

“ I’ve wanted to be a trophy wife ever since I was a little boy. ”

“ I’m done being baby; I want POWER ”

“ Wait, “Just Standing There Ominously” doesn’t count as socializing? ”

“ Yes I am smart, and yes, I am stupid. It’s called being flexible. ”

“ I am NOT delusional!!!!! I am OPTIMISTIC! ”

“ I deserve compensation for not being the menace to society that i could be, like i'm skipping out on a lot of fun here. ”

“ Do not ask me if you should or shouldn't do something !!! Before I am a friend I am an enabler !!! ”

“ i am the WORLDS PRETTYIST PINK PRINCESS and im gonna KILL YOU WITH MY HUGE FUCKING HAMMER ”

#askbox meme #askbox prompt #rp ask meme #ask box #roleplay sentence meme #sentence starters #roleplay prompts #roleplay sentence starters #* sentence meme #rpc help

221 notes · View notes

jiminiecrickets · 8 months

Text

HONEY WILD & MANNA-DEW. JJK / M!READER

summary. werewolves are dirty, savage, brutal beasts, jungkook thinks. after nursing a particularly pathetic one back to full health and realising just how attractive he is... well, vampires have never been known to evade what they want.

wc. 3.8k

tags. smut | vampire!jk, werewolf!reader, dom bottom!jk, sub top!reader, reader is generally described as "strong", jk calls r. mutt/dog/pup/puppy (slight degradation), praise (r. receiving), slight dumbification (? r.)

notes. written for and with nick :) you know who you are. thank you for everything !! <33

"fancy seeing you here, darling."

"i'm not your darling," jungkook replies immediately, his expression souring. he throws back his glass of whiskey, setting the empty glass down on the dark counter. he spins around on his stool, leaning his elbows back against the counter as he stares coolly up at you, his eyes hard with annoyance. "excuse me, please. i think it's time to go home."

when he shifts, a shock runs through you, and it's automatic when you cage him in, arms shielding him from the outside world. your face is inches away from his, drawn into a frown. "you told me to come here. really gonna leave me alone without buyin' me a drink? that seems like the nice thing to do."

"i did tell you," he says airily, his gaze raking over your figure. the tight shirt you've donned under a jacket emphasises the raw strength werewolves are known for. "i've just changed my mind. you look better when the lights are off."

he smirks, eyes glittering coldly up at you, and he pushes your arm out of the way to stand. he's stunning in an all-black ensemble, his buttoned shirt with its rolled sleeves held together by a single brave button over his belt. he tucks his hands into the pockets of his perfectly-pressed trousers and cocks his head, gaze unwavering as your jaw ticks. "come, puppy. you'll walk me home."

as he turns on his heel, weaving with supernatural ease through the thick crowds like a ghost, you shut your eyes tightly, dragging a hand down your face with a groan.

fuck. you should head the opposite way; every instinct in you is screaming it.

he hums softly as you join his side, strolling down the neon-lit city streets. he'd never stopped walking – he knows the hold he has on you. "good dog. if only you listened so well all the time."

you step in front of him. he glances up expectantly, placing his hand on his hip. "yes, mutt? what is it?"

"come on, darling. you can drop the façade. you aren't fooling anyone – everyone can tell you like this – like us." a smirk tugs at your lips. "say, when we get to your house... how far in would you like to go in? living room, kitchen? maybe even just the foyer?"

"quiet," he hisses. "this means nothing! we are nothing! you're a rabid dog who knows nothing except fucking and fighting!"

"really? you seemed to quite like how rabid i was last night."

he scowls, his glare deepening. his eyes flash, for the briefest moment, a dark, swirling, razing red. he leans in. "you owe your life to me, mutt. you're in no position to be mouthing off at me." he reaches up, seizing your jaw, and in a quarter of a second you find yourself pinned against a brick wall, the wind knocked out of your lungs. he presses his body flush against yours – you can feel the uncanny rise and fall of his chest, the plane of his stomach, the sturdy thighs against yours.

"what, pup? don't want to talk now?" he tilts his head, shifting his thigh between yours almost unnoticeably. you certainly do, and he smirks when your breath hitches. he leans in, baring his fangs and nipping at your neck. he whispers into your skin, "be a good boy, darling. you don't have your pack here to look good for – just look good for me. can you do that?"

your throat bobs and he tracks the motion with his sharp eyes. he waits patiently, fingers digging tighter into your skin, and you wince, inclining your head such a tiny degree that anyone lesser would miss it entirely.

jungkook hums and pulls away, releasing you. you loose a soft, shuddering breath, rubbing your jaw where his nails dug crescents into your skin. heat bubbles low in your stomach.

he smiles, sharp and fanged, and turns away. he beckons over his shoulder with a short whistle. "heel, mutt. seems like we still need to do a lot of training – better start right away."

—

"come."

it's so fucking humiliating. your entire face is aflame as you shuffle forward, your hands clenched at your sides, trembling slightly with the pain of your nails digging into your palms. your cock stands at attention, dark and heavy, and jungkook hums, taking it into his hand. your eyes squeeze tight in a futile attempt to ignore the way he twists his wrist so expertly – and he does it all with a demure smile, knees crossed neatly as he perches at the end of the bed.

the bed. big enough to fit both of you comfortably. a dangerous sort of hope blooms in your chest. maybe he'll finally let you touch him.

"that's my good boy," he coos, stroking you to a quick beat as he watches your every move. no twitch or flinch goes unnoticed. you're trying so hard, and lust warms his chest where his heart should beat. "let's try this again. sit."

you kneel at his feet, your head bowed. your hands close into fists on top of your bare thighs as he kisses the top of your head, stroking the place where your ears would be, had tonight been a full moon. it wasn't – not for one more day. you found yourself growing antsy, staring at open green parks and forested areas with more longing than usual.

you shudder as he digs his fingers into your scalp, massaging deeply. you swallow a moan, but it comes out half-choked as a white shudder zings down your spine. you barely suppress a whimper when he strokes your hair, petting you as if he loved you. you can feel your thoughts struggle – you make a valiant effort, concentrating on forming clear and logical sentences in your head.

and then he scratches you behind the ear. everything melts. you whine softly, pushing into his hand as you grip his legs. as soon as his hand halts, your brain catches up, and you yank away, defaulting to a proper sit.

he sighs, and the sound makes your heart leap in distress. "puppy..."

"no," you blurt out, an embarrassing shake to your voice. "no, please, i'll be good – i will! don't start again, please don't start again..."

he smells so good. like sweet, sharp wildberries. you like wildberries.

"very well," he breathes. "off."

you reach for his shirt, unbuttoning it with shaky hands. he watches you carefully and you swallow as you lock eyes with him, pushing the cloth over the lines of his shoulders. you tuck it out of his belt and sit back on your heels, folding the garment neatly into a square and setting it aside. you gaze expectantly up at him.

"good pup," he whispers, before rising to his feet. you will yourself to keep your eyes on his and not on the cute bulge five inches from your face. "off."

you suck in a deep breath as you unbuckle his belt deftly. you've done this enough times by now to do it in one motion. gently, you drag the cold black zipper down, hovering your hands over his skin as you tug his trousers down his long legs. the black cloth falls. he's not wearing any underwear. your mouth feels dry.

"you're doing so well. bed," he murmurs, stepping back until the backs of his knees touch the foot of the mattress. you crawl over him, hovering steadily as you stare down at him with rapture and painful anticipation. your cock hangs heavy between your thighs, right between his legs, but he ignores it, propping himself up on an elbow. the other hand trails between his thighs.

"ah, fuck..." he whispers as he slides a finger into his already-loved ass, soon adding a second. he begins to finger himself, soft breaths and gasps falling from those perfect rosy lips. he notices the darkening hunger in your eyes. "stay," he orders firmly, his voice breathy but not unsteady. "stay."

you can't breathe. you've tried this thrice before and all three times you failed to get further than this. it wasn't fair. he kept changing the order of his commands.

his widens his legs, hooking his ankles around the backs of your knees. his back arches as he moans, lashes fluttering shut as his expression goes lax with pleasure.

the lube makes things wet and filthy. your arms shake, crumbling under the pressure of the sight of him touching himself. nothing you do keeps the addicting sound of his moans out of your head.

"fu-uck," he drawls, inserting a third finger. his whole body shudders, his thighs pressed firmly against the sides of yours. he opens his eyes, gazing up at you with eyes of cut rubies, flashing in the semi-darkness. both of you are night-dwellers, creatures of the dark and cold night. you can see every pulse and twist in excruciating detail.

jungkook moans your name in a breath, his fingers sliding easily against his walls. nothing fills him up as well as you do, but he'd rather die than admit it to you. he shifts in his fancy bedsheets – oh, how deliciously wrong it feels to taint them like this – and wraps his slender fingers around his leaking cock, stroking himself slowly in time with his quicker fingers.

you watch, paralysed. your cock throbs at the sight of his pretty ass clenching around his fingers, and your hips rock involuntarily. it leaks precum embarrassingly steadily, pooling on a spot on his bedsheets.

jungkook smirks, moans soft and airy like pants for air. "stay," he says warningly when you begin to fidget, restless as you admire the curves and planes of his body. his thighs tighten around yours, keeping you steady. your fingers flex.

you can practically smell his lust. his cock throbs in his palm, wet and slick from his prior games. a spurt of precum dribbles down his shaft and he swiftly sweeps it up, smearing it along his length with a greedy moan.

fists clenching in the sheets, you close your eyes stiffly, thinking of anything but him. anything except him and his pretty smirks and lithe body and tight little—

"open your eyes," he commands, and they fly open. "want to touch?"

"yes," you rasp, your throat bobbing harshly. "yes, oh, fuck – yes, i do..."

"mm, well, you can't," he teases. "hah – you look so fucking pathetic, did you know that? so big and strong, and yet reduced to near tears because of someone like me. you must be ashamed of yourself, mutt."

your hips jerk at the title. a tiny keen escapes your lips. jungkook laughs, his hands quickening as his voice grows softer, airier. "ooh, that was almost a restart right there. oh, darling, your pretty cock's all swollen and needy – you look the best like this, trembling for me as if you're a young pup all over again."

all you can do is whine, your cock throbbing hotly with need. fuck, you can feel it all the way up your spine – the need to be inside of him, the need to show him how good you are, the need to prove that you're his. all and entirely his.

"it's okay, puppy. you're doing so well," jungkook breathes, watching with satisfaction as a droplet of sweat rolls down your heaving chest. your expression is starved and dark, brows furrowed with an almost beastly intensity.

you're just so cute. he can't help but want to shower you in praise. he shouldn't – you're just an unruly mutt, uncontrollable and savage when the full moon comes around. he's leagues above you on the food chain.

he shouldn't even be entertaining you like this – not when your kind are known for their quick-to-love natures. if he goes a step too far, you'll be all over him, all the time. all over his black clothes and antique vases. wolves are notoriously hard to shake off once they've developed a liking for someone.

he slides his fingers out of himself with a soft moan, reaching for your dripping cock. you flinch when he slides his palm over the tip, breathing growing shaky.

"i see why they call you monsters," he whispers with a smirk. he tugs his lower lip between his teeth, a single white fang bright white against the dark pink of his lips. "you want to claim me with this, mm?"

you nearly buckle under the fog filling your skull, his touch cold and burning. he hums, relaxing in the comfortable weight of your heat, radiating from your skin as if there's a star in the place of a soul. fucking a vampire in the filthiest ways could never begin to challenge how good it feels to simply be near you, engulfed in the blazing heat of your embrace.

him, with his icy skin and fanged sneers... you, with your cocky smirks and frequent, flirty touches. it's a match made in hell and escaping it seems awfully counterintuitive.

"please," you whine, bucking into his fist stiffly. "want... w-want you – baby, please—"

"i'm not your baby," jungkook reminds you with a sharp flick of his wrist. his thumb runs along the pulsing veins he knows are most sensitive. "i'm not your darling, not your baby. i never can and never will be. do you understand, mutt?"

you nod feebly, grunting as he squeezes the base of your cock in warning. "i un-understand..."

"better." he guides the head of your cock to his ass and your breath hitches as your tip rubs against his wet hole, sending shocks of heat up your nerves. "go slowly. i want to feel all of you."

his face pinches as you thrust in shallowly, the inches sinking in with ease. your slick cock glides against his soft walls, pulsing tightly against them. he gasps as you nudge that spot inside him, swollen and tender with his playing. "fuck, puppy, right there!"

your cock twitches at the breathy keen of his moans. you gnaw on the inside of your cheek, gently thrusting in until he's taken all of you. your balls press against his ass and he shudders, ass clenching like a vice around you.

you can't help it. you whimper his name, thrusting faster, and he grunts in surprise. his eyes fly open.

"f-fuck—! did i tell you to go faster?" he demands. "dumb mutt! do you want to do this all again?"

"no," you groan, your hips stilling. you shift over him, powerful thighs tense and trembling beneath his. "n-no..."

he grabs your jaw and tilts your head up, forcing you to look him in the eye. arousal burns low in his belly at the sight of complete and utter want dominating your expression: lips parted, throat bobbing constantly, eyes glazed and dark. your tongue darts out and runs over your lower lip, leaving a pretty sheen in its wake.

"good," he says eventually, and shifts his hand. it goes from clawing at your jaw to cupping your cheek, thumb swiping over your lips. you tilt your head and take his thumb between your lips, sucking gently as you stare up at him. those pretty eyes of yours are hazy and shimmery, as if you're on the verge of tears.

holy hell. jungkook releases a slow, steadying breath. having a man like you in the palm of his hand isn't doing anything for his superiority complex – you're really something else.

"move," he commands, his glare piercing you like a bullet through jelly. "what are you waiting for?"

you drop your head, shaking it with a gasp as he clenches around you. "i – i can't..."

"you can't?" he repeats, scoffing. "what's wrong with you, mutt? i give you an opportunity to please me, but you can't?"

a soft, embarrassed whine leaves your throat. your fingers itch to touch him – to hold him, to caress him, to worship him. all that pale, graceful, flawless skin, and not a single mark of your love. sure, it'll vanish in minutes, but you can fool yourself into thinking that it'll remain for weeks under his prim and proper black clothes.

"i can't," you whimper. "i'll... 'm gonna come..."

a short silence passes between you. then: he barks a laugh, sharp and derisive. "really? you're that excited from being told what to do? oh, my poor puppy... you're so adorable. i just wanna sink my teeth into you," he coos, his arm snaking around your shoulders. the other hand slithers over your ribs, down your side, across your back. he squeezes your ass, pulling you deep into him. he grins as you throb inside of him, cock leaking profusely. "go on, then. touch me, pup."

in an instant, your hands are on him, learning him in ways so devoted it surges affection in the hollow of his chest. they run down his stomach and thighs, then back up again, cupping his chest around his upper ribs. you grip him like a toy, gently bouncing him on your twitching cock, and he moans, high and breathy, tugging you closer into the crook of his neck.

he really does smell sweet. you can't tell if it's his cologne or his shampoo, or if he just smells like that all of the time, but it's heavy, it's heady, and you can feel yourself getting drunk off of his scent. you tug him down onto your cock, grinding into his ass, and he grunts, grip tightening on your shoulders.

"you fill me up so well," he moans, wrapping his thighs around your waist as you fuck into him. "fuck, a-ah – you're such a good boy for me, huh? such an eager boy, so – mnh! – so obedient for me... make me come first and you'll be rewarded, okay? i-i'll reward you so well, fuck, my good boy—"

he squeaks as your hips quicken, slamming into him desperately. he cries out in pleasure, nails digging into the bulk of your shoulders as you smother him with your body, your face buried in his neck as he moans and cries. the wet smack of your cock against his ass each time you bury yourself hilt-deep inside of him is dangerously obscene, white-hot and buzzing his nerves.

"what—! what are you—" he can't bring himself to chastise you. your thick tip punches past his swollen prostate on each thrust and he mewls, slanting his mouth against yours hotly. he moans as you overpower him, your tongue diving into his mouth as his fingers tangle in the baby hairs at the back of your neck. his fangs nick your lip until blood and you groan, long and low and greedy.

he widens his shaky legs, his heels digging into the small of your back as he yanks you hard into him. you groan, deep and pleased, and slide an arm under his spine. your hips rock hungrily against his ass until the bedframe shakes.

"sorry, 'm sorry," you mumble, over and over again, warm breaths puffing against jungkook's collarbone. your head spins. the faraway guilt lays heavy over your mind like a blanket and the pleasure fires threads of heat through your whole body, aching and greedy. arousal pulses low in your belly. "'m so sorry, f-feels too good, you feel so good—"

"y-you stupid mutt!" he cries, his leaking cock bouncing on his belly. he slaps your side weakly, knuckling the raised trio of scars that cross your chest and stomach. you grab his wrists and pin them above his head, palms flat against the soft, pale insides of his wrists. you're dizzy with it, the way he sucks you in and refuses to let go. "s-slow down, nngh, i-i'm—!"

he seizes up, sides tightening as his cock spurts. his ass clenches and swallows you whole, his staccato cries and moans burning permanently into your brain. with one last thrust, you empty yourself inside him with a drawled whine, pulling his body flush to yours. he's so cold – it soothes your sweat-slick skin and you rock yourself against him, mind numb to everything but the white-hot pleasure concentrating in a tangled mess at the base of your cock, swollen and hot and dragging forcefully against his vice-like hole. it stretches for you, pink and hungry.

jungkook groans breathlessly, the mess on his stomach dripping down his sides. it soils his bedsheets. he tilts his head towards yours, his breath cold against the shell of your ear. you shudder, still filling him up, and he admires the way your muscle flexes under your skin with each panting breath.

eventually, he leans back against his pillows, his muscles aching pleasurably. his thighs loosen around your hips and you slowly pull out until just the tip, feeling cum drip out of him, and lazily push back in, fucking your cum deep into his ass. he moans, holding you chest-to-chest.

"wh... what was that?" he croaks, his voice strained from the volume of his cries. "fuck, puppy, you were doing so well..."

"n-no! i was good!" you bury yourself in his neck, breathing in his scent to calm your thudding heart. "you came first, i did what you told me to do! i was good, i promise."

"i told you to be gentle," he groans, slapping your chest. "bad dog."

"you take that back," you whine. "'m not bad!"

"no."

"take it back," you demand. he arches an eyebrow. you wilt. "please..."

"fine," he relents, "but only if you do something for me."

you perk up, eyes bright with interest. hell... how you can be so energetic after such a thorough fuck, he has no idea. "yes?"

he pushes lightly on your hips, pulling your cock out, and rolls over onto his stomach. he props his cheek on the backs of his hands, gazing up at you through heavy-lidded eyes over his perfect shoulder.

he smirks, wiggling his hips. "fuck me like this, mutt. you can be as rough as you like, but there's one rule."

"a rule?" your stare is trapped on his ass and the way his hole leaks your cum. it scratches a deep, animal itch inside you.

"mhm." he arches his back slightly and grins at the soft gasp you let out. "you can't touch me."

you glance up, wide-eyed. it's criminal how innocent you look. "w-what?"

"you heard me, puppy. no touching. if you can make me come without touching me, and without losing it yourself... well, i can think of a few fun things you can choose from."

"yes," you agree instantly, eyes pinned on the way his ass presses against your cock. you place it between his ass and he rocks his hips, grinding against it as he pins it to your stomach. "fucking hell, yes."

"good." his eyes glitter, somewhere between malice and mischief. he grins playfully and traces his fangs with the tip of his tongue, tasting your blood. he hums as you eagerly push back in, groaning at the slick feeling of his soft insides. "no need to rush, love. you don't want to fill yourself up with the entrées, do you? we'll be here all night long..."

#top male reader #x male reader #male reader #dom male reader #dom reader #bts x male reader #bottom bts #bottom jungkook #jungkook x male reader #kpop x male reader #bts x reader #kpop x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut

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honeytonedhottie · 2 months

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dear diary⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✨

keeping a diary is so much FUN and helpful not only for my mental health but for overall GIRLINESS. as someone who's been keeping a diary consistently for two years now, i'll be giving some diary resources and tips on how to get started and maintain a diary.

WHY ITS FUN TO HAVE A DIARY ;

i love to read past entries bcuz first, im rly rly funny and its fun to go back and read what i was writing about at that time and just reminisce on points in my life. it makes for great entertainment and it showcases growth that i've made and the way that my character changed or grew.

its been a game-changer for my mental health bcuz i have a little outlet where i can be completely transparent and just yap endlessly with no one to stop me or invade on my privacy.

TOOLS FOR A PHYSICAL DIARY ;

fluffy pink and purple pens

yummy scented glitter pens

past-able things (examples include ; cut outs from magazines, photos that you've taken and printed, stickers, memo sheets)

some print able and past able resources ;

decoration for the actual diary like glitter, stickers, ribbons, and frills.

for the actual diary , look for diaries that are pretty (for example, fluffy diaries)

more examples ;

TOOLS FOR A DIGITAL DIARY ;

a good writing tool (FOR MY DIARY, I USE NOTION)

cute headers + photos to insert into my diary, i find all of my photos on pinterest.

digital diaries are easily a lot less work then physical diaries which is why i keep a digital diary but keeping a physical diary is SO much fun too.

THE ACTUAL WRITING PART ;

everyone will write in their diaries in a different way based on whatever feels the most natural, but for me i start off my entries with "dear diary" and then write in the journal as though i was writing to a friend so its super comfy and relaxed.

i actually have a couple of writing outlets, so i have a journal and i have a diary. my diary is mostly for my day-to-day life. its updated 2x a week (tuesdays and thursdays) in my journal, thats less about my day to day and just random things i wanna write about.

STUFF THAT I HAVE IN MY JOURNAL ;

all about me

girlhood and the little joys of life

why im the most beautiful girl (with proof)

stuff i like

vaunting about myself

sweetest inbox letters (cuz ur all so sweet)

list of things i've consciously manifested so far this year

my car collection

tattoos i wanna get and why

my unholier thoughts

PROMPTS AND IDEAS ;

angel numbers

favorite song lyrics

list of things to manifest

a love letter (to yourself, crush, etc)

letter to your future/past self

lipstick stain log

current obsessions

pressed flowers

favorite sweet treats (ranked)

list ur crushes and celebrity crushes

favorite quotes in general

ppl that u look up to

doodles

all in all i think that journalling is such a fun and beneficial hobby and hopefully this post can help u to start something that u might rly love. ✨

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inkykeiji · 3 months

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character: zayne genre: fluff! notes: wrote this as a teeny tiny comfort piece for myself!! deciding to share it here in the hopes that maybe it can bring some comfort to someone else, too! warnings: daddy kink without the kinkiness, reader takes medication and suffers from unspecified health issues, reader is female words: 880

Thinking about Daddy Zayne who is also Doctor Zayne, who is simultaneously and consistently both, the line between the two smudged and blurred and bleeding into one another as they infuse his soul, a caretaker in the purest, rawest form; who is rigidly meticulous when it comes to your health, especially your daily medications and vitamins.

He knows you sometimes forget to take your pills, sometimes forget if you’ve taken the correct amount, or which ones you have yet to take for the day—it’s okay, he understands, he tells you tenderly when he raises his concerns to you. It can be overwhelming, especially on the days where you’re feeling extra sick, where even the most basic of tasks feels impossibly monumental; he knows, sweetheart, he knows—and so, he resolves to do everything in his power to aid you.

If there’s anything, anything at all that he can do to make your health just a teensy bit easier, he wants to do it.

The pill box he brings home one night is a pretty pastel pink, plastic embedded with silver sparkles that glitter brilliantly as he pulls it from his work satchel, tiny twinkles catching on fragments of light, streaming from the kitchen pot lights.

“To help keep you organized,” he says softly, placing the container down on the island’s marble countertop, gently, as if he’s afraid it may shatter otherwise.

“It’s super cute,” you say, gaze swapping between him and the box, a small smile on your lips. “Thank you, Daddy.” Dainty fingers skim along the days of the week, each one etched into the plastic in a bright fuchsia. “This was really thoughtful of you.”

“You like it?” he asks, hesitant hope tingeing the edges of his voice.

“I do.”

“Good,” he roots around in his bag again, producing a hefty stack of glittery packets from the depths, each wrapped individually in thin shimmering plastic. “Because I saw these, and I just couldn’t resist—they reminded me of you too much.”

Splayed out across the countertop sits pages and pages of cute kittens, hearts, and stars, twinkling delicately up at you.

Blinking twice, your head tilts. “Stickers?”

“Mm,” Zayne hums, nodding. His fingers traverse the sheets, one by one, pensively. “I thought we could decorate the pill organizer together.”

And, oh, the way your eyes absolutely shine, brilliant and beautiful as they search his face, makes all of the trepidation he had accumulated in his chest on his drive home so worth it.

It melts away in your warm blaze, mollifies into something doughy and pleasant, something that fills his ribcage and stuffs his heart and he feels satisfied, he feels right, he feels whole.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Now?”

A light chuckle falls from his lips, gaze gone syrupy as he traces along the curve of your cheek, eyes following his finger’s trajectory for a moment before they find your stare again.

“Yes.”

Your smile grows impossibly wider, impeccably brighter, a sweet little squeal of excitement sticking in your throat, and he can’t help but laugh again, holding out an arm in invitation as his other hand pats his thigh.

Scampering over to him, he pulls you into his lap, one strong arm curled protectively around your waist as he holds you tightly to his chest, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Alright, princess,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose along your jaw, then planting a smattering of kisses behind your ear. “Which first? The hearts, the stars, or the kitties?”

Ninety minutes and two paper cuts later, your pretty pink pill box is finally finished, embellished with meticulously arranged stickers, each one placed just right—spread out perfectly from one another and organized in a way that makes it feel flawlessly balanced, each sticker methodically and systematically assorted with careful attention (a dire requirement, apparently, so you don’t end up with too many of one kind too close together!, you had told him). They glimmer in the low light of the kitchen as you tilt the box in your palms, one way, then the other, admiring yours and Daddy’s handiwork.

“It’s perfect,” you sigh, resting your cheek against Zayne’s. “We did a wonderful job.”

“It is, and we did,” he agrees, chest puffing a little against your back as his spine straightens, raising himself back to his proper height and pressing his lips to your temple, brushing along the throbbing veins in a gentle caress. His voice vibrates against your skin as he speaks, little tingles permeating your blood. “Now it’s time to let Daddy allocate and distribute your medication for the week.”

A large hand taps the side of your thigh twice, a silent demand to get moving.

“Come,” Zayne instructs as you both stand, taking one of your hands in his. “Help supervise and make sure Daddy puts everything in its proper spot.”

He hopes this will help, even if it’s only a little. He hopes you’ll think of him, every morning when you’re popping open the corresponding little compartment, and he hopes it’ll make you smile, even if it’s nothing more than a slight quirk up of your lips.

If he can ease your pain, no matter how incremental the amount, then he’s doing his job. A start is a start, no matter how small.

#zayne x reader #zayne x you #zayne x y/n #zayne fluff #zayne headcanons #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace x reader #first lnd piece had to be zayne hehehe

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genshinluvr · 1 year

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The Lonely God

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader/Creator!Reader

Summary: You're the creator of all things! Everyone in Teyvat worships you; even their ancestors worship you! You answer prayers and make miracles happen. But you know what's ironic, though? Despite you being worshipped by many, you couldn't help but feel lonely. You yearn for friendship and attempt to bond with the twenty-five men who are tasked to protect you while you're in Teyvat. Oh, and you're also not the best at expressing your feelings.

Note: This is most likely the first and last time I'll make a creator/God!Reader AU because this is not my thing 💀 I have no idea how this idea popped up in my head, so I might as well type it and get it out. This isn't the typical God!reader/Creator!reader fanfics you see on Tumblr; they're amazing! I ended up realizing that it was not my thing and switched to my style of writing. So instead of the gut-wrenching angst you all see for SAGAU fics, you're just going to get my typical Isekai'd!reader interaction. Kind of. Please keep in mind that I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None that I know of, other than it being somewhat religious-themed?

Word Count: 10.9k

Want to read another SAGAU fic? Read Our Dear Creator!

The day you have descended to Teyvat is the day people of Teyvat throw a huge celebration to welcome you to earth. All seven regions of Teyvat celebrated for two weeks. The first week consists of feasts, game stalls that are related to your divine presence, a performance dedicated to you, your creation, and your impact on Teyvat. You would visit the nations and witness how each of the seven regions and its people celebrate you and all of the things you have done for Teyvat and the inhabitants of Teyvat. Your visitation is a huge deal, and it's highly anticipated. Who doesn’t want to witness a higher power visiting their nation? Someone who has more power than a government entity and an archon that rules the country.

When you step foot in each nation, everyone can feel the immense power oozing from you. Dressed in beautiful, expensive, and exotic clothing from each region that is tailored just for you, people are almost intimidated by your mere presence. While you have high-leveled military personnel escorting you around the city while you visit, it doesn’t stop your most loyal followers from approaching you and proclaiming their love and admiration for you. I mean, how could they not? You have done so much for their nations and for the people of Teyvat. You have answered prayers and have performed so many miracles.

The second you step foot into the seven nations, silence will fall over the mass crowd of people who are anticipating your appearance. You are the epitome of beauty and grace. Everyone’s breath is taken away when you look in their direction. You have this glowing presence that catches everyone’s attention wherever you go— literally. Wherever you go, you have this warm gold glow, no matter what the lighting is. Some might even claim to see specks of stars and glitter shining in the said warm glow.

After the first week of celebrating your presence on Teyvat, the second week consists of people from all over the region visiting you and the shrine that is dedicated to you. At the grand shrine, people leave offerings to you in hopes of a great year, successful marriage, business, wealth, fertility, good health, and many more. While people are offering fruits, food, Mora, flowers, fragrances, incense, and alcohol at your shrine, you are sitting on a throne in the next building over, speaking to your followers. At the same time, your most loyal acolytes stand guard in the same room as you and the line of your worshippers.

“Thank you for answering my prayers, your grace. With your blessings, my husband and I have conceived seven children. We are currently expecting baby number eight,” the tearful woman says, kneeling in front of you while holding your hand.

Itto and Childe’s eyes widen as they look over at each other.

“Seven?!” Itto mouths to Childe.

“I know, right?!” Childe mouths back.

You smile at the woman and wipe her tears away, helping her up from the ground. The heavily pregnant woman clutches onto your arms and continues to thank you for blessing her and her husband with many children.

Diluc sighs and takes a step forward. “I believe we should cut the meeting for today. Today has been a long day for them, and I believe they would like some privacy now,” Diluc says.

“What?! I-I’m not finished speaking,” the pregnant woman gasps, holding onto you tightly.

You smile at the woman and gently rub her back. “It has been a long day, Xinyi. I do not know how long you have been waiting in line to be able to speak to me, but we can continue our conversation tomorrow. After all, you are pregnant. You need to rest. I believe your husband has been watching you from afar worriedly. You wouldn’t want to make your husband worry even more now, would you?” You ask softly.

The tearful woman looks behind her and locks gazes with her husband, who is watching her like a hawk. Xinyi looks at you and nods her head sadly, wiping the tears from her cheeks. The people around you grumble under their breath and comply. You give Xinyi a light squeeze on the shoulders before she turns around and exits the throne room with the others. From there on, Dainsleif escorts the line of people out of the building, and you sit down on the throne, letting out a quiet sigh. Today was a long day, and you’re glad that Diluc has stepped in to end the meeting with your worshippers.

“How are you feeling, your grace? Are you hungry? We can get you something to eat if you’d like for us to do that,” Thoma speaks up, standing in front of you.

You sigh and give Thoma a smile. “I am feeling a little bit famished. Perhaps go fetch me a small snack and a drink?” You suggest.

Thoma bows and turns to leave, but Thoma stops in his tracks when you call his name. Thoma turns around and looks at you curiously. “Yes, your grace?” Thoma asks.

“Please, just call me [Y/N],” you plead. You look at the other men in the room and gesture to everyone. “All of you, please, just call me [Y/N]. You can call me ‘your grace’ when other people are present, but when it’s just us, you can call me [Y/N],” you said.

Aether’s eyes light up, and he nudges Xiao and Heizou. “Does that mean we get special treatment from the deity?!” Aether whispers loudly, shaking both men beside him by their arms.

“Uh….” you laugh nervously, scratching the back of your neck. “Sorry to interrupt, but please treat me like how you all would treat other people. I know I’m a God, and I’m widely worshipped by the people of Teyvat, but I don’t know how to act like a God,” You said, scratching your cheek awkwardly.

“What are your thoughts, Venti and Mister Zhongli?” Kaeya asks, turning to look at the two archons.

Venti shrugs his shoulders. “There are no specific rules on how a God is supposed to act and speak to others,” Venti says, giving you a big smile.

“If that is what [Y/N] wishes, then it shall be granted. After all, it is their decision on how they want others to view them and how they want to interact with those around them,” Zhongli replies.

“So, we can speak informally to them, right? Someone won’t smite me if I give [Y/N] a nickname and crack jokes with them?” Itto asks excitedly. Itto’s eyes shine almost as bright as the sun, and a big smile stretches across his face.

“I don’t know, Itto. Do you want to test it out?” Dainsleif asks, entering the throne room with his arms over his chest. Itto laughs nervously and shakes his head, backing away the closer Dainsleif gets.

Itto hides behind you, both of his hands on your shoulders as he cowers away from the blond man. Dainsleif stands in front of you, staring down at Itto behind you. Itto lightly pushes you towards Dainsleif, making you stumble into his chest. Dainsleif places his right hand on your lower back and glares daggers at Itto for lightly shoving you in his direction.

“Did you just push [Y/N]?!” Xiao demands, his polearm materializing in his hands as he marches in Itto’s direction.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Let’s calm down now! Itto didn’t mean to push me,” you said, grabbing onto Xiao’s bicep to stop him from smiting Itto for pushing you into Dainsleif’s arms.

Xiao freezes in his spot when he feels your hand grabbing his bare bicep. You notice his reaction and slowly retract your hand. You clear your throat and give Xiao a small smile and look at the others in the room, making sure that they’re not as tense as Dainsleif, Itto, and Xiao. Luckily, they weren’t tense; they seemed entertained.

“It’s okay, Xiao. I’m sure Itto didn’t mean to do it. As grateful as I am for you and your readiness to protect me, let’s calm down. I’m okay; I’m not hurt,” you reassure the Yaksha.

Xiao lets out a huff of breath and glares at Itto. Xiao looks at you, and his gaze softens. He nods his head and lets his polearm evaporate in the air. You smile at Xiao and pat his back as he goes back to where he was previously standing.

Without another word, the men give you a bow before exiting the throne room, leaving you alone. You watch everyone go before walking back to the throne. You collapse on the seat and slump down in your chair, propping your head up on your elbow, and stare at absolutely nothing. With the number of people in Teyvat worshipping you, you have never felt so lonely. Yes, you get endless gifts and offerings, and you listen to people’s prayers and perform miracles. But that still doesn’t cure your loneliness.

You did not want any of your acolytes, er the men, to be formal with you because you wanted to form a friendship with them. Yes, they are your most loyal followers who will not hesitate to kill for you if they have to, but you don’t want that at the same time. You want them to treat you like you’re not a God; you want them to see you as a person instead of a divine being. Just like how they view Zhongli and Venti.

You see how they interact with each other when they’re not on duty to protect you and make sure that people don’t step out of line. The way they bicker with each other, laugh at each other’s lame jokes, or act like typical men, makes you yearn to form a friendship with them. The door to the throne room opens about thirty minutes later, and the men file into the throne room.

“Your grace— I mean [Y/N]— lunch is ready! I hope you’re hungry because there’s a lot of food out there,” Gorou says, approaching your throne.

You look at the men with wide eyes and slowly get up from the throne. Their eyes follow your every move as you walk down the steps.

“A lot, you say?” You murmur, approaching Gorou while stroking your chin. “I’m sure it’s enough to fill my stomach up! Please, lead the way,” you said, gesturing for the men to show you the way to the dining room.

The building is filled with staff; from cooking staff to cleaning staff, they all stop what they’re doing when you walk by them with the men surrounding you in a circle. They all bow to you as you’re passing by, and you smile and wave at them when you get the chance. Upon entering the dining room, there is a large dining table in the center of the room with multiple chairs pushed underneath the table.

Your eyes widen when you see the kitchen staff bring in more food and set them on the table with so much food lined up with it. You turn to look at the men, who are watching you with amusement. You point at the table, speechless. Your hand falls to your side, and you clear your throat.

“You weren’t kidding when you said there’s a lot of food,” you laugh lightly.

Scaramouche crosses his arms over his chest and sighs. “We told the kitchen staff not to make too much food because we don’t know how hungry you are, but at the same time, we don’t know what you want to eat,” Scaramouche says.

“Do you think you’ll be able to finish all of this? It would be a waste if you’re not able to finish the rest,” Ayato says, looking at each dish on the table.

You shake your head. “I will not be able to finish all of these on my own,” you said. You approach the table and turn to the men. “If you all would like, would any of you want to join me for dinner?” You ask.

Heizou smiles brightly and raises his right hand in the air. “I would love to join you for dinner, your grace! The food looks delicious, and just smelling the food makes my stomach growl!” Heizou says, rubbing his stomach.

Tighnari nudges Heizou. “Didn’t [Y/N] tell you to call them by their name? Why are you calling them by their title?” Tighnari mutters to Heizou.

“That’s because there are kitchen staff entering and exiting the dining room. We wouldn’t want anyone to hear us call [Y/N] by their name other than their title. It can stir something,” Cyno whispers, popping up between Tighnari and Heizou.

Al Haitham sighs. “Let’s not keep them waiting any longer, shall we?” Al Haitham says, walking towards where you’re standing and begin conversing with you.

Everyone begins to sit at a random chair at the dining table. You sit at the end of the dining table, picking the food you want to eat while the others do the same. The kitchen staff emerges from the entrance and places teacups in front of each person, pouring hot tea into the ceramic teacup for each person.

“The food smells amazing,” Kaveh says, almost letting out a moan when the food touches his tongue.

Kazuha nods his head. “If this is the food a divine being gets every day, then sign me up,” Kazuha smiles, taking a bite out of his onigiri while talking to the men beside him.

The dining room is filled with laughter and joyous chatter; the sound of cutlery clanking against the porcelain plates and bowls fills the dining room. Then there’s you, eating food while occasionally looking up from your food to watch how they communicate with each other. You’re in a dining room filled with almost thirty other people, and yet you still feel alone. You’re on your second plate of food, but you’re starting to lose your appetite.

They didn’t seem to notice it, but you’re glad they weren’t paying close attention to you and your lack of appetite. You wish you could form a bond with them and speak to them easily without feeling like you’re interrupting something or butting into a conversation. Plus, what’s there to talk about when you’re a divine being above all, and they’re all your loyal acolytes? They know everything about you, but you know so little about them other than what regions they’re from and what visions they have.

“Maybe it was a mistake to invite them to join me. I thought inviting them to join me would make me feel less lonely, but I feel even lonelier in a room with twenty-five people.” You think to yourself. You let out a silent sigh, resting your chin in the palm of your hands, propping your head on your arm while twirling the noodles with your fork.

“Your grace?” A soft voice calls out to you.

You look up from your plate and make eye contact with Baizhu. You give him a small smile. “Yes, Baizhu?” You murmur.

“Are you alright? You’ve been quiet since the beginning of dinner,” Baizhu says.

You clear your throat and nod your head. “Yes, Baizhu. I’m fine, just feeling drained from today. After all, I did speak to about two hundred people. It was a long day today,” you said, fixing your posture and continuing to give Baizhu a fake smile.

“It has been a long day. I can’t imagine having to sit in one spot while listening to two hundred people praise you and the miracles you have performed and prayers you have answered,” Pantalone says, gazing at you with interest.

You laugh softly and tuck your hair behind your ear. “It’s new to me. I’m shocked to see that there are people who still believe in me despite my vague presence,” you confessed.

“Your stories have been told throughout Teyvat. Everyone worships you, and even their ancestors worship you. I have yet to come across a nonbeliever,” Pierro says, dabbing his lips with the cloth napkin.

You slightly shrunk in your seat. “It’s weird having people worship me, especially when it’s the entirety of Teyvat,” you said. You let out a humorless laugh and begin messing with the fabric of your expensive attire. “It’s weird how I’m worshipped by many, and yet I still feel lonely,” you mutter to yourself.

Albedo leans in your direction, looking at you quizzically. “Pardon?” He asks.

You shake your head and wave him off. “It’s nothing. I was talking about how I should finish my food before going to bed. It’s starting to get late,” you said, looking over at the grandfather clock, ticking away.

Dottore tilts his head to the side, pressing his lips into a thin line, contemplating whether he should ask you the question or not. After debating for some time, Dottore decides to ask, “Do gods sleep?”

You shrug your shoulders. “That is usually up to the god. I’m not sure about Zhongli and Venti, but I sleep even though it’s not needed. I sleep to regenerate my energy like every person on Teyvat, even though I do not need to do that. Whenever I feel stressed, I go to sleep in hopes that it will clear and ease my thoughts. I go to sleep to pass the time if there’s nothing for me to do, but as a God of all beings, I’m always busy,” you said.

“Since you are a God worshipped by the entirety of Teyvat, how do you find the time to sleep?” Capitano asks.

“I don’t. As I’ve stated earlier, Gods don’t need sleep like mortals need sleep. I’m always working around the clock, but it’s what I do, and it’s something that I’m used to. It’s not a foreign concept for me,” you reply.

Venti hums and leans back in his seat. “Your grace, have you ever had a vacation before?” Venti asks, leaning forward and propping his arms on the table in front of him.

You blink at Venti. “A vacation? How does one go on a vacation when there are many things that need attention?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t think I have time for a vacation. After all, a lot of people are relying on me for many, many things. I don’t want to let them down,” you said.

Childe lets out a long sigh and leans in his seat, resting his head on the chair’s top rail, and turns his head to look in your direction. “You know, it’s not a bad thing to take a break from your God duties. You’re a God, yes, but you still need to take a break once in a while,” Childe says.

“And where do you think I should be vacationing then? I hear that mortals like to travel far for vacations or stay home and sleep in,” You said.

Aether smiles at you and shrugs his shoulders. “Your choice of vacation is up to you, your grace. Do you have a place in mind?” Aether asks.

You shake your head. “Not that I know of, Aether,” you sigh.

Aether’s eyes widen, and his cheeks flush pink when he hears you say his name. The color pink slowly travels up to Aether’s ears as he tries to act like it didn’t faze him at all. Aether looks over at the person next to him and smirks triumphantly, his smile so wide that it hurts his cheeks. The men around Aether grumble to themselves and roll their eyes at Aether’s reaction.

“Although, I do want to visit an island and check up on one of my creations….” you trailed off, bringing the fork up to your lips and eating the spaghetti.

Tighnari’s ears perk up. “Oh? And what island would that be?” Tighnari asks.

You look over at the clock and shake your head. “I would like to go to the island tomorrow. As much as I would love to visit it right now, it’s getting late, and we all need to rest,” you said, grabbing your teacup and taking a sip of the warm herbal tea.

Heizou’s eyes light up, and he leans forward. “Are you having a vacation day tomorrow?!” Heizou asks with excitement.

You think for a moment. You’re planning on going to an island tomorrow to visit (well, check up) one of your creations tomorrow. You wouldn’t call it a vacation, technically. But it can be viewed as a vacation since you’re not going to be talking with the people that worship you. Plus, you don’t think the visitation is going to take long; it should take less than an hour or two before you head back to the mainland and continue your duties as a God of all.

“I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to call it. Perhaps maybe call it a reunion rather than a vacation,” you murmur, stroking your chin while in deep thought.

Al Haitham raises his eyebrows at you. “A reunion, you say?” Al Haitham mutters, turning to look at the others quizzically, who shrug their shoulders in response.

“Well, whatever is planned tomorrow, we look forward to keeping you company while you reunite with your creations,” Cyno says, nodding his head.

Dinner continued like how it previously was, everyone conversing with one another while you were deep in your thoughts. You’re nervous about reuniting with your creation and the reactions of the men when they see the creation you want to reunite with. You have created it and released it onto this island, letting it roam around and serve its purpose. You know that people hunt the said creatures for the materials they drop, but the creatures that you create also harm the people that go near them.

Once dinner had ended, everyone went to their designated temporary homes, leaving you alone in your temporary home until the celebration ended. You walk to the bathroom and open the doors, revealing an expansive bathroom with a large skylight. You strip yourself of your robes and step into the bathtub filled with warm water, glaze lilies floating on top, and lit scented candles surrounding the porcelain bathtub.

You scrubbed your body, shampooed, and conditioned your hair. You rinsed your hair with warm water before sinking into the water up to your neck. You close your eyes and lean your head against the rim of the bathtub, taking deep breaths. It’s too quiet, and it feels unnerving to you. Before descending onto Teyvat, you enjoyed the quiet. Although, whenever you look down on Teyvat, the sound of bustling crowds from each region comforts you.

Before the creation of Teyvat, you were lonely. You didn’t have a companion or a romantic partner; no one else existed except for you, and you didn’t want to feel lonely ever again. So, that’s how Teyvat came to be. You created the archons to rule their respective nations and citizens. You created land, the sea, and the creatures that roam Teyvat for the people to hunt. You give the people of Teyvat plenty of resources that will help them live and thrive on their own without depending on you.

While they thrived on their own, they still rely on you for many things. You weren’t upset that they prayed to you every night at shrines and dinner tables, praying for a better day and better health. You love answering prayers and performing miracles; you want everyone to be happy, but some things are just out of your control despite you being a God. And now here you are, hoping that someone or something would keep you company.

After you get out of the bath, dry your body, and change into your nightwear, you lay in your bed and stare up at the ceiling. You feel tired from the events that have been going on for almost two weeks now, and yet you can barely get yourself to fall asleep in the comfort of your (temporary) bed. You sit up and rub your temples, begging your body to let you fall asleep so time can go by fast. You lay back down on your bed and close your eyes, hoping that you’ll fall asleep a few minutes or an hour later.

Nothing. You still can’t get yourself to fall asleep. Letting out a frustrated sigh, you toss the blanket off your body and get off your bed. You walk to the balcony of your bedroom, open the doors and step out into the night. You close the balcony door behind you and lean on the wooden railing that lets you gaze out at the beautiful scenery before you. The warm summer night air engulfs you in its arms; you close your eyes when you feel a gentle breeze caress your face.

“The night is beautiful,” you whisper to yourself, slowly opening your eyes.

A face pops in front of yours from above. “The night is beautiful, isn’t it?” Venti asks, looking down at you with a big smile.

You let out a strained shriek and backed up against the balcony door, looking at Venti with wide eyes. “Venti! Why are you still up!?” You whisper, clutching your heart with your hand, feeling your heart race against your chest.

“Yeah, Venti! Why are you awake at a time like this?!” Kaeya exclaims from a distance.

You hear an annoyed voice calling from afar. “Why are you awake at a time like this, Kaeya?” You look over the balcony only to see Diluc standing beside a bush, glaring at his brother from a distance.

The more you look at your surrounding, the more you realize that every single man is awake and not asleep in their designated temporary home. You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, questioning yourself why these men are still awake when it’s almost midnight. Venti sits on the wooden railing of the balcony and smiles at you innocently while watching you intently. You prop your hands on your hips and press your lips into a thin line.

“Oh no. Why does [Y/N] look like a mother that’s about to give us a good scolding?” Kaveh asks.

You exhale through your nose slowly and shake your head. “Boys, it’s getting late out. Aren’t you all supposed to be asleep by now?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at the men.

Scaramouche lets out a scoff before interjecting, “Some of us don’t need sleep. In case you have forgotten, I am a puppet. Eating and sleeping isn’t a necessity for me like how it is for these feeble mortals around me.”

“No offense, little man, but you sound like those defiant children when it’s past their bedtime, and your parents are trying to get you to go to bed,” you hear Itto say.

“Well, if you’re not willing to go to bed, all of you might as well keep me company,” you said. You turn around without saying anything else and walk back into your bedroom, closing the door behind you.

“Wait, keep you company where?” Gorou asks, his ears drooping when the balcony door closes shut.

A few minutes later, the front door of your “home” opens, and you step out into the night. You have on a thin silk robe. The color is bright red, with gold embellishments lining the hem of the robe. You close the door behind you and approach the men that are slowly making their way toward you.

Once everyone is standing around you, you gesture for them to follow you. “I discovered this lake in the forest the other day. Sometimes when I’m not able to rest, I go there to clear my mind and decompress,” you said, guiding the men to the lake deep in the woods.

“Your grace, you shouldn’t be wandering off into the woods on your own. What if something happened to you, and we’re not able to protect you?” Zhongli asks, walking beside you.

You giggle softly and shake your head. “Oh, Zhongli. Did you forget that I’m a God myself? I’m sure nothing can harm me,” you said, thinking about the creation that you’ll meet in the morning the next day.

“Just because you’re a God, that doesn’t mean there are malicious people out there willing to hunt you down and hurt you,” Xiao huffs, walking on your left, sandwiching you between him and Zhongli as you continue to guide everyone into the woods.

You hum and nod your head. “You’re not wrong about that, but so far, nothing has happened,” you said.

About ten minutes later, you all arrive in the middle of the woods. In the center is a lake surrounded by little daisies and forget-me-nots. The moon is high in the sky, shining down on the lake. You walk to the giant slab of rock next to the lake and sit down, motioning for the others to come closer.

“What made you discover this place?” Albedo asks, standing beside the slab of rock you’re sitting on.

You snort. “Well, I did create Teyvat. I’m bound to forget what I made and what I didn’t make. This lake, in particular, is something I cannot recall making,” you said. You pull your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around your legs, resting your knees on your chin. “I accidentally discovered this lake while on a walk the other day. There was a lot on my mind, and I was feeling….” you trailed off.

“Feeling?” Ayato tilts his head to the side, his arms over his chest as he waits for you to finish your sentence.

Lonely. You were feeling lonely, but would it even matter if you told the men about how you’ve been feeling for quite some time now? You’re surrounded by people, but that doesn’t make you feel any less lonely. You have no one to turn to when you want to talk to someone; you have a hard time building friendships with those around you because you don’t know what to say to strengthen these bonds.

Not only that, people will continue to see you as a divine being instead of viewing you like you’re one of them. How can you form a friendship with people when you’re a God in their eyes, even though you tell them to look at you as if you’re human and to call you by your real name instead of your title?

You shake your head. “Never mind about that. Anyway! I ended up stumbling across this artificial lake, and I like how peaceful it is here. If any of you need a place to clear your mind or to relax and be away from people for a short amount of time, I recommend going here,” you said, patting the slab of rock you’re sitting on.

“It’s a beautiful place, [Y/N]. I’m happy that you feel comfortable enough to show us this place,” Kazuha says, sitting down beside you and gazing at the moonlit lake.

Silence falls over you and the men; the sounds filling the silence are crickets and the sound of water splashing after a frog hops into the moonlit lake. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, letting your body unwind from the events that took place hours ago. You slowly doze off and lean to the left, your head landing on Kazuha’s shoulders. Your head landing on Kazuha’s shoulders startles you awake, making you sit up suddenly and rub your eyes.

“If you’re tired, we can take you back to the house,” Dainsleif offers.

You shake your head stubbornly. “I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep in bed. For some reason, it’s easier for me to sleep out here than it is in the room,” you reply.

You let go of your knees and stretch your legs and arms, letting out a yawn while doing so. You get off of the rock slab and walk over to the lake. The lake is full of life; frogs and tadpoles swimming around in the lake, fishes swimming by the tadpoles, and turtles floating idly by in the water.

“Perhaps it's the ambiance and sound of crickets that are helping you fall asleep. Some people can’t sleep in silent bedrooms; they need some kind of noise to lull them to sleep,” Dottore says, approaching you from behind.

You slip your shoes off your feet and step into the lake; goosebumps appear on your arms when your feet are submerged in the cold water. You sit on the grass, continuing to let your feet soak in the water. The tadpoles, fishes, and turtles slowly make their way toward you. You dip your finger into the water and let the fishes gently nibble on your fingers; a smile ghosts over your lips.

Even though they’re merely animals, they still recognize you as their creator, and it’s fascinating to you. Capitano stands over you, watching you interact with the animals in the lake while you’re in your little world, completely unaware of how the men are watching you. The gentle breeze blows through your hair, making them flutter and twirl around you, and the goosebumps on your arms remain present.

A giant coat is draped over your shoulders, bringing you out of your thoughts. You blink and turn to look at the jacket around your shoulders. You look up and see Capitano not wearing his coat and look at him curiously.

You give Capitano a small smile. “You didn’t have to lend me your jacket, Capitano. I’ll be okay; gods can’t get sick,” you reassure the tall Harbinger as you get ready to take the coat off and hand it back to him.

Capitano stops you by shaking his head and raising his hand. “Keep the jacket on. Despite gods not being able to get sick, they still get cold, no?” Capitano asks.

You can almost hear him raise his eyebrows at you after asking his question. You pursed your lips and sighed in defeat, letting your hand fall into your lap and nod your head at his question. You turn back to the lake and continue playing around with the tiny creatures in the lake, lightly petting a turtle’s head if it lets you do so (it almost bit your finger, causing Diluc to give you a lecture on touching animals that don’t want to be petted).

“Oh, Diluc, there’s nothing to worry about,” you laugh softly, patting Diluc’s head with your left hand while your right hand is caressed in Diluc’s grasp. He looks at your hand closely, making sure that you didn’t get bitten anywhere.

Kaeya chuckles and shakes his head, propping his arm on Diluc’s shoulder with a smirk on his face. “Oh, Diluc. Acting like a mother hen to a God that has created everything in our universe?” Kaeya asks, raising an eyebrow at Diluc with a teasing smile on his face.

Diluc releases your hand from his grasp, smacks Kaeya’s arm off his shoulders, and shoots a glare over in Kaeya’s direction. “Am I not allowed to worry over [Y/N]’s safety? What if they got hurt?” Diluc asks.

You pout and cup Diluc’s face in both of your hands. Diluc freezes and looks at you with wide eyes. Your pout quickly turns into a smile, and you squish his cheeks together. “You don’t need to worry about me, Diluc! I’ll be fine! Although I do appreciate that you care about my safety,” you said. Diluc continues to stare at you with wide eyes, his cheeks a faint pink under the moonlight. You slowly pull your hands away from his face and give him an awkward smile.

“Hey, [Y/N]! Check this out!” You hear Childe holler from a distance.

You turn your head and see him gesture for you to come over. You give Kaeya and Diluc a brief smile before excusing yourself to walk over to where Childe is standing. After you walk off, Kaeya turns to look at Diluc with a teasing smile on his face. Diluc bristles at Kaeya’s teasing smile before storming off to where the other men are standing, muttering under his breath about Kaeya being annoying and wanting to smack the smile off of Kaeya’s face. Kaeya chuckles and follows after Diluc, his hands propped on his hips, occasionally glancing over in your direction to see what you and Childe are up to.

“What do you want to show me, Childe?” You ask, stopping beside him.

Childe gets on one knee and thrusts a bouquet of forget-me-nots and daisies in your direction with his head bowed down. “For you, my dear creator!” Childe announces dramatically.

You giggle and take the bouquet from Childe’s hands. “Thank you, Ajax,” you said, bowing back to him dramatically.

Childe’s eyes widen, and he looks up at you, his mouth agape, reminding you of a fish out of water. You snort softly and hold the flowers up to your face, shielding the bottom half of your face from his view. Childe begins to stutter as he stands up, his cheeks flushing to a bright pink that travels up to the tip of his ears.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” You tease, poking him lightly in the chest.

Dainsleif and Zhongli approach you and Childe, looking at Childe with amusement. You smile at Dainsleif and Zhongli, waving at them before marveling at the flowers in your hands.

Zhongli looks at Childe and tilts his head. “Why do you have that look on your face, Childe?” Zhongli asks, a faint smile appearing on his face.

“By that expression on his face, I’m assuming Childe may have a crush on our dear creator,” Dainsleif whispers to Zhongli, smirking when Childe snaps out of his thoughts and glares at the blond man with a beet-red face.

You perk up and look at the three men curiously. “A crush, you say?” You ask, lightly rubbing the petals between your fingers.

Childe sputters for ten seconds before running off without saying another word. You, Dainsleif, and Zhongli watch him run off to where Ayato and Itto are talking, making sure to avoid eye contact and act as if nothing has happened.

You chuckle and lightly nudge Dainsleif and Zhongli. “Don’t tease him, you two! I’m sure you two would do the same if Childe were to tease any of you for having a crush on someone,” you chide the two men beside you, clicking your tongue.

Albedo approaches you and shows you the time. You blink and look down at the small watch in his hands. “It’s getting late out. Are you sure you don’t want to get a few hours of sleep before going to the island you wanted to visit?” Albedo asks.

You sigh in defeat. As much as you want to stay up longer, which you can, the men around you are mortal (some are an exception and don’t need sleep as much as mortals do), and they need to get as much sleep as possible or else they’ll be exhausted when you all visit the island.

“We should all go to bed now,” you announce, grabbing everyone’s attention.

Kazuha looks at you quizzically. “Are you sure? You did mention that you’re not able to fall asleep,” Kazuha says, crossing his arms over his chest and letting the leaf in his hand fly away.

You brush Kazuha’s worries away. “I’ll fall asleep eventually. The ones that need sleep the most are the ones that aren’t immortals. Although I can’t speak on Dainsleif,” you reply, stroking your chin.

“You better get some sleep. We wouldn’t want to see you all exhausted because you chose to stay up and not go to sleep,” Scaramouche says, narrowing his eyes at you.

Ayato chuckles, shaking his head. “I don’t think you’re in the position to tell the creator of all things to get some sleep, Scaramouche,” Ayato says cooly.

Baizhu chuckles and looks over at Ayato and then at Scaramouche. “I believe that Scaramouche is trying to show the creator that he cares about their health and doesn’t want them to feel tired when we go to the island in a few hours,” Baizhu says.

Thoma’s eyes widen. “A few hours?! What time is it?!” Thoma asks, walking over to Albedo and looking down at the watch in Albedo’s hands.

When Thoma didn’t know what time it was, Thoma felt fine. He didn’t feel sleepy, and he felt like he could be awake for the next few hours. The minute Thoma looks at the watch in Albedo’s hand to see what time it is, exhaustion suddenly hits him like a sumpter beast. By the look on Thoma’s face, you can already tell that the blond man is on the verge of falling asleep after seeing what time it is.

You clap your hands to grab everyone’s attention. “Let’s all head back and get some rest before our trip in a few hours. Please make sure to get some sleep,” you said, guiding the men out of the woods with them following closely behind.

“I don’t know about you guys, but that place that [Y/N] showed us would be a nice place to take a nap,” Aether says, pointing to the lake behind them as you all stray farther and farther away from the area.

Heizou nods his head. “I agree! Hence why [Y/N] nearly fell asleep after we arrived there,” Heizou says, gazing at the back of your head while you converse with the others.

“Maybe that’s where they slept a few days ago after discovering the lake. After all, when Al Haitham tried to wake them up at their temporary home, Al Haitham discovered that they weren’t there and nearly went into a cardiac arrest,” Tighnari says casually.

Kaveh snickers behind his hand. “I have never seen him so freaked out before. Al Haitham looked like he was going to cry,” Kaveh whispers loudly to the other men around him.

Al Haitham scoffs and glares at Kaveh. Al Haitham reaches over, grabs Kaveh by the ears, and pulls hard until Kaveh’s ears are a deep red and throbbing from the pain. Kaveh hisses and bats Al Haitham’s hands away from his ears.

“I was not going to cry! Of course, I would be worried if our creator just up and disappeared from the face of Teyvat! Wouldn’t you be worried?!” Al Haitham asks, crossing his arms over his chest after Kaveh successfully removes Al Haitham’s hand from his ear.

Cyno scoffs and rolls his eyes at Al Haitham’s question. “Of course, we would be worried about [Y/N] if they suddenly disappeared. We wouldn’t burst into tears like you,” Cyno shrugs.

Kaveh and Cyno immediately start to snicker with each other, running to where you’re at to avoid Al Haitham’s wrath. Al Haitham sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, tempted to run after them to give those two a piece of his mind. Because Kaveh and Cyno are sticking by your side to avoid Al Haitham’s wrath, Al Haitham refrains himself from marching to them and smacking them with the keys to his and Kaveh’s shared apartment.

“You know, it’s okay to cry sometimes. It’s good for the soul, and it’s a great way to release some stress,” Gorou says casually, walking beside Al Haitham.

Xiao sighs and closes his eyes. “Not everyone is good at expressing their emotions, Gorou,” Xiao mutters.

“Some might even think that showing emotions makes you weak,” Pantalone interjects, looking over at Pierro from the corner of his eyes. The two lock gazes for a second before Pantalone looks away with a little smile on his face.

Pierro narrows his eyes at Pantalone. “Why did you look at me when you said that?” Pierro asks, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

Pantalone shakes his head and continues walking with his arms behind his back. The smile remains on his face. Pierro sighs and rolls his eyes at Pantalone, and continues to walk beside Pantalone. You all soon arrive at where your and everyone’s temporary homes are. Itto stretches his arms in the air and lets out a loud yawn, covering his mouth with his left hand and rubbing his eyes with the other.

“Man! I cannot wait to get some sleep! I just know I’m going to get an amazing sleep when my head hits the pillow,” Itto says, letting out a loud grunt.

Capitano sighs. “Please keep your voices down. You don’t want to wake up the nearest village by being loud,” Capitano says.

Itto grumbles and sticks his tongue out at Capitano when Capitano has his back turned toward Itto’s direction. You look down at your feet and cover your face with both hands after realizing that you completely forgot to put your shoes back on after dipping your feet into the lake. Great, just great! At least you have extra shoes in the temporary house.

“What’s wrong, [Y/N]?” Kazuha asks, placing his hand on your shoulders.

You laugh nervously and rub the back of your neck with a sheepish smile on your face. “I just realized that I left my shoes back at the lake, but it’s fine since I have extra shoes in the house,” you said.

“Do you want us to go and get it for you? We’ll make it quick,” Diluc offers.

You shake your head. “No, it’s okay. As I said a second ago, I have extra shoes inside the house,” you said.

Diluc opens his mouth to protest, but Ayato places his hand on Diluc’s shoulder and shakes his head when the two of them make eye contact. Diluc sighs silently and drops the subject when he sees you cover your mouth while yawning. You rub the tears away and grumble under your breath.

“Alright! I will see you all in the morning, and we can take a trip down to the island together,” you said, giving the men a smile.

Dainsleif raises his hand. “You never specified what island we’re going to, [Y/N]. Do you want to tell us where we’re going in the morning, or are you going to keep it a secret until we arrive?” Dainsleif asks.

“Do you want me to tell you the name of the island, or do you want it to be a surprise?” You ask.

“Yes,” they all respond in unison, nodding their heads at your question.

You blink at the men in confusion and scratch your head. “You boys did not answer my question at all,” you deadpan. “Are you answering yes to the first question or my second question?” You ask, pursing your lips while waiting for one of the men to answer your question.

“I am assuming that some of them are saying yes to the first question while others are saying yes to your second question,” Baizhu says.

You let out a sharp sigh, prop your hands on your hips, and tap your right foot on the ground like a parent that is impatient with their indecisive children. “Well, since all of you can’t answer my question, I’ll make the decision for all of you,” you said.

“What?! I wanted to know what island we’ll be going to in the morning!” Itto exclaims, looking at you with disbelief.

Al Haitham huffs, crossing his arms in front of him and looking away. “Well, I wanted the island to be a surprise. I am not impatient like the others and can wait to see where we’ll be going in a few hours,” Al Haitham says.

Childe makes a face at Al Haitham. “No offense, Al Haitham, is it? But why do you act like you have a stick up your ass?” Childe smirks, raising an eyebrow at Al Haitham.

Al Haitham glares at Childe while Kaveh howls with laughter, hunched over with his hands on his knees while cackling at Childe’s question and Al Haitham’s reaction.

Zhongli releases a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t start anything, Childe. Especially in front of [Y/N],” Zhongli mutters, glaring at Childe from the corner of his eyes.

You crack a smile and shake your head. You don’t think you’ll get tired of these men bickering with one another. You and the men bid each other goodnights before retreating to your respective temporary homes for the night. You collapse onto your bed and close your eyes, feeling yourself drift off to sleep.

You wake up to the sound of something hitting the balcony window. You sit up on your bed and stare at the window with bleary eyes. You hear the clank again and something falling on the wooden balcony, clattering on the wood. You remove the blanket and walk to the patio, not thinking much of what’s hitting the glass. You assume the noise was an acorn or pinecone that fell from somewhere and landed on the balcony—no big deal.

You unlock the balcony doors and step outside. You look around, searching for the item that hit the balcony window, only to find nothing. You furrow your eyebrows and rub the sleep from your eyes with the heel of your hands. While trying to get yourself to wake up, you suddenly feel something hard hit your forehead, causing you to stumble back, and your hands fly up to touch the area that was hit. The object that hit your head clatters on the ground loudly after making contact with your forehead.

“Ow,” you hiss. “What was that?” You grumble, eyes scanning the balcony floor for the object that hit your forehead.

“You idiot! You just hit [Y/N] in the head with the rock!” Kaveh hisses, smacking Itto upside of his head.

Itto grumbles and rubs the spot where Kaveh has struck him. You walk to the railing and lean on it, looking down at the men who are looking up at you. You sigh and lay your head on the wooden railing. You certainly did not expect to get hit in the forehead by a rock that is thrown by Itto, but you shouldn’t be surprised.

You prop your head up with your hand and look down at them from where you’re standing. “What a lovely way to wake me up, boys,” you snort.

“We didn’t know how to wake you up, so we went with this decision because it’s fun and romantic!” Venti says, smiling up at you innocently.

You raise your eyebrows at the men teasingly. As much as you wanted to tease them about the romantic gesture, you pointed at the door and chuckled. “So, instead of knocking on the door or ringing the doorbell, you guys chose to throw pebbles at the balcony window?” you ask.

“We told them to knock on the door, but they insisted on throwing pebbles at your balcony window. I’m not sure why other than it being a romantic gesture,” Cyno mutters, looking over at Venti and Itto, who smiles at him innocently.

“You look like you just woke up,” Kaveh comments, looking at your bedhead with an amused look on his face.

You mumble and run your fingers through your hair to fix your hair. “That’s because I did! I was exhausted, but the pebble hitting me in the forehead definitely woke me up,” you reply.

“You should get ready! It’s almost nine in the morning, and we’re debating whether everyone should eat breakfast before going to the island or bring something with us to eat while we’re there,” said Tighnari.

You hum to yourself and tap on your chin. Since you’re going on an island devoid of human life, you think it's best to stop by somewhere to have breakfast before going to the island. “Let’s stop by Inazuma City for breakfast, then we’ll visit the island after,” you suggest.

“Alright, sounds good to me! We’ll wait for you to get ready, and then we’ll head off to Inazuma City for breakfast,” Aether smiles up at you.

You give Aether a smile before walking back into your bedroom, closing the balcony door behind you. You quickly got dressed, brushed your teeth, combed your hair, and walked down the stairs to the front door, where the men were waiting for you. You put on your shoes and walk out of the door, making sure that you don’t look like you are rushing (even though you are).

“Ready for breakfast in Inazuma City?” Ayato asks.

You nod your head, trying to act like you aren’t breathless at all. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” you said, smiling at Ayato and the men around him. “So, any hints on where we’ll be having dinner?” You ask.

Heizou pokes you in the ribs lightly, making you jolt at the feeling. “That will be a surprise since you won’t tell us where what island we’re going to today,” Heizou says, smiling at you.

You scrunch your nose up and sigh. “Alright, fair enough,” you huff, ruffling Heizou’s hair and earning a laugh from Heizou.

At Inazuma City, the minute you step foot into the nation of eternity, you’re almost hounded by the citizens of Inazuma. Before the citizens could hound you, the men were quick to form a barrier around you to prevent the citizens of Inazuma from surrounding you and gazing at you like a child in a candy store. You smile at them shyly and wave at them while the men escort you to the restaurant where all of you will be having breakfast. Upon entering the small restaurant, you all sit at the back of the restaurant for privacy.

“I completely forgot that [Y/N] is a God that is worshipped by all,” Gorou says, slightly smacking his forehead with the palm of his hand.

Venti laughs and shakes his head. “Don’t worry, Gorou. You’re not the only one that forgot about that, too,” Venti reassures Gorou.

“I think we should eat our breakfasts quickly and then leave, or else the people of Inazuma will spread the word that [Y/N] is here, and it’ll make it harder for us to leave the restaurant and city,” said Thoma.

Breakfast went by fast, which you’re not surprised at all because while eating breakfast, the commotion outside of the restaurant was getting loud. You end up requesting a to-go box to pack the unfinished breakfast and take it to the island you and the men are about to visit. At first, the restaurant owner informed you that they typically don’t let customers take home the leftovers, but you’re able to convince the restaurant owners to let you take them.

“Are you ready to go to the island? I would show the way, but I’m not sure what island we’re going to,” Kaeya says, walking beside you as you all walk to the nearest waypoint while trying not to be spotted by the citizens of Inazuma.

You sigh dramatically. “Alright, I’ll tell you all what island we’re going to,” you said.

The men around you cheer, making you snort. You’re not entirely sure why they’re cheering, but it’s adorable! Although you’re not prepared to see the reactions on their faces when you tell them the name of the island you’re all going to visit once you reach the nearest waypoint.

“We’re going to visit Tsurumi Island for a few hours, then we’ll head back to the mainland to continue the day,” you said, turning your back to the men, not wanting to see the reactions on their faces.

Xiao stares at the back of your head. “Tsurumi Island?” Xiao mutters, looking over at the Inazuman men and Aether.

Aether looked like he was going to faint at any given moment. Aether has explored Tsurumi Island before, and he sure as hell did not want to return to that island ever again. But since it’s the island that you’re planning on visiting, Aether is mentally praying that nothing goes wrong and that everything is fine and dandy.

You turn to Aether and poke him lightly on the forehead. “You know I can hear your prayers, right?” You ask, smiling at Aether.

Scaramouche leans to Aether. “How could you forget about that?” Scaramouche whispers, snickering when Aether elbows him in the stomach.

“Something tells me that we might need to bring an emergency first aid kit, just in case,” Albedo says.

Baizhu chuckles and pulls out a large first aid kit. “I’m already ahead of you,” says Baizhu.

When you all arrive at Tsurumi Island, everyone expects to see an island full of fog and spirits; what they do not expect is to be taken to the lower part of Tsurumi Island. Itto’s eyes widen, and he looks around; the site is suddenly familiar to him other than Aether.

“Oh no,” Itto laughs nervously, his eyes darting around to look for the familiar creature that resides on the island.

“Why are you saying ‘oh no’ like that?” Al Haitham asks, narrowing his eyes at the oni, who continues to survey his surroundings nervously.

Aether makes a face and lets out a sharp exhale. “You’ll see,” Aether says, bobbing his head in your direction.

The men stop on the side and watch you approach the center, unsure whether they should stop you from walking any further or not. You’re a God, the creator of all things, and you’re untouchable! But are you really untouchable? You step closer to the strange black-yellow rift in the air; your heart is punching you in the ribs while your mind is racing. Would he still recognize you?

“[Y/N], I don’t think you should be walking any closer,” Cyno says, his polearm materializing in his hands.

Your eyes remain on the rift. “I’ll be fine, Cyno. He’s not going to hurt me,” you said.

“But how do you know that he won’t hurt you?” Dainsleif demands.

You reach your hand out to touch the rift, but before the tip of your fingers can touch the rift, the rift immediately opens in front of you. You slowly backed away and gazed at the Golden Wolflord emerging from the rift, your hair whipping around your face the more the Golden Wolflord flew around you.

“Why does [Y/N] want to see that thing in the first place? That thing almost killed me many times!” Aether exclaims, covering his ears as the wind howls around them.

Heizou laughs nervously. “Shouldn’t we warn them not to touch the Golden Wolflord?” Heizou asks, looking over at the others nervously.

“I think it’s too late for that,” Pierro mutters.

Heizou slowly turns around and sees you petting the Golden Wolflord and nuzzling your face against its snout. Heizou and the men blinked at what they were seeing in front of them. The way you’re treating the monstrous beast in front of you as if it’s some puppy was mind-boggling. Your hands caress the Golden Wolflord’s face, nuzzling your cheek against his face while talking to it like it’s a baby.

“I haven’t seen you in so long! Look how much you’ve grown! Oh, I’ve missed you so much!” You said.

The Golden Wolflord whimpers softly and licks your face. That is something you don’t see a Golden Wolflord do to those who dare to step foot in its territory. You laugh and hug his face, petting his head and running your fingers through his fur.

“You’re still as cute as ever! I’m sorry I couldn’t visit you sooner; I was busy,” you said softly. You cup its face in your hands and look at it in the eyes with a small frown on your face. “I’ll try to visit you more often, okay? Maybe once a week; how does that sound?” You ask, smiling at the Golden Wolflord.

The Golden Wolflord rumbles and nuzzles his face against yours, closing its eyes in contentment. You smile and kiss the Golden Wolflord’s forehead. You turn around and gesture for the men to come closer, only for them to shake their heads in response and take another step back. You chuckle to yourself and continue to shower the beast’s head. While you did claim to have created the Golden Wolflord, you technically did, but at the same time, you didn’t. The Golden Wolflord is Gold’s creation, but you created Gold, and Gold created the Golden Wolflord. Therefore you had some kind of contribution to the Golden Wolflord’s existence.

You sigh and rest the side of your head on its head. “You must have been so lonely without me, huh? I know how you feel. I was alone before I created Teyvat, and I continue to be alone. While I have people that worship me from all over Teyvat, I still feel lonely,” you whisper.

“Do you think that thing understands what [Y/N]’s saying?” Kaveh whispers to the others.

Tighnari nods his head. “Oh, he understands [Y/N],” Tighnari says.

Remember how you convinced the restaurant owner in Inazuma to let you take the leftovers? Well, you and the men ate the breakfast with the Golden Wolflord, keeping you all company. Well, they ate from a safe distance while you and the Golden Wolflord kept each other company. After the visitation with the Golden Wolflord, you and the men return to the mainland. When you all returned to the mainland, you couldn’t help but feel sad and lonelier than you did before.

You didn’t realize that you had stopped in your tracks when you heard Albedo call out to you.

Albedo walks up to you and stops in front of you, gazing at you worriedly. “Are you alright?” Albedo asks. You watch the men slowly approach you and Albedo, unsure whether they should join in or not.

You hesitate for a moment and purse your lips. Should you tell them what’s wrong? You’re a God, the creator of Teyvat, and everything in its existence. You should be strong and not like how you are right now. Would they shame you for feeling this way? For not being the God that they have been worshipping since the beginning of time? After all, you did want to form a friendship with everyone, and you didn’t like feeling lonely. It’s one of the reasons why you created Teyvat and everything that resides on it.

“You’re overthinking again,” you think to yourself.

Zhongli walks to you and places a hand on your shoulder. “You can tell us whatever is bothering you; there’s nothing to be afraid of or be ashamed of,” Zhongli says.

“You all may be wondering why I have decided to visit the Golden Wolflord,” you said. “I didn’t create the Golden Wolflord, but I did have some kind of contribution to its existence. He has been on that island for who knows how long, and it must’ve been really lonely for him, and I can relate to him,” you said.

“What are you trying to say exactly?” Pantalone asks, cocking his head to the side.

You let out a frustrated and embarrassed huff of breath. “Long story short: I am lonely like the Golden Wolflord. I am trying my best to form friendships with you all, and I feel like I am failing because every time I try to form a connection, I fail miserably,” you said.

“A God bad with words and feelings….” Venti says, stroking his chin.

You hunch over and place your hands on your knees. “It’s so embarrassing! I created you all and everything around us, and here I am, struggling with expressing my emotions and inner thoughts,” you cover your hot face with your hands.

“It’s okay to struggle with that. I mean, have you seen Diluc? I think he’s way worst than you,” Kaeya says, smiling at you.

Diluc slowly turns to look at Kaeya, his eyebrows narrowing. You let out a weak laugh and sigh, rubbing your temples. For the past few days, you have been trying (and struggling) to form a friendship with these twenty-five men because of how bad you are when it comes to talking about your feelings and what’s going on in your mind.

“Hey, if you want to be friends with us, you don’t need to ask! The minute you told us to call you by your real name instead of ‘your grace,’ consider us as best friends!” Itto says, throwing his arms around your shoulders and hugging you.

Childe pushes Itto from you and gives you a suave smile. “Or, we can be more than that,” Childe wiggles his eyebrows at you. Zhongli, Venti, and Dainsleif deadpan at Childe’s suggestion. You stare at Childe cluelessly and look at the other men and back at Childe.

“Super best friends?” You ask.

Diluc rolls his eyes, grabs Childe by the back of his head, and shoves him out of the way. Childe stumbles and shoots a glare in Diluc’s direction, steam coming from his ears.

“Let’s start as friends first, then we can decide on the rest. Therefore, please ignore whatever the ginger idiot was implying,” Diluc says, giving you a small smile.

You smile at Diluc and tackle him into a hug, catching the redhead off guard. Diluc looks down at you with wide eyes before awkwardly hugging you back. A soft smile appears on Diluc’s face while he rubs your back. You sigh in Diluc’s grasp, letting yourself relax in his arms. You finally won't feel alone for the first time in thousands of years.

Note: It's funny how I said that I don't know how I feel about writing this fic, and this story ends up being almost 11k words long. I don't count the words myself; I always type out my fanfics in Google Docs and transfer them over to Tumblr and AO3 (apparently, some people thought I counted the words myself 😭). My winter quarter starts on Monday, the 9th of January, and I have no idea how that'll affect my posting schedule. I hope it doesn't negatively impact it 🥲 For those who want to be on my new taglist, here is the link to the taglist [Genshinluvr Updated Taglist Form]! Please make sure that you allow people to mention you/tag you in posts, or else I won't be able to tag you in any future fanfics! Anyway, for those who are new here or are returning readers, I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @alhaitham-scribe, @xyji, @kazuhasmuse, @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @kwelibeeery, @yumakj, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @honeybedo, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @mompt2, @@living-my-best-life5, @chalksdreams, @rinswriting, @thelost-in-time, @mxn14, @ventisweetheart, @unwantedsleep, @kattythesimp, @hispasian-otaku, @Orah-s, @juuuuuj101010, @nxns3nse (If your name has been crossed out, it means that your account did not show up when I try to tag your account. Please make sure to allow people to mention you and tag you in posts and make sure the spelling, symbols and numbers are correct)

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