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rosyjn · 5 months

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Dilf!Jake catching you in your first heat MDNI

You nock the arrow, keeping the bow string stretched as you aim for a nearby bird. It is a colorful animal, resting on a branch. Your chest, adorned with flowers that barely cover your plump breasts, rises and falls with your breath.

You have been trying to ignore it. The tsahik told you this would come soon. The onset of your heat, you’ve been noticing since this morning. When you woke up, there was this strange hot feeling and an eager wetness between your legs. You should not have ignored it.

All you want to do is focus on hunting. This isn’t fair. Your head floods with bothersome thoughts. You release the arrow from the bow, the tense string making a snapping noise. Your sharp weapon flies through the air, striking the bird and knocking it off of its perch.

A relieved exhale leaves your mouth. You lower your bow. A prayer leaves your lips. May Eywa bless this soul.

You also need help from Eywa. Your legs are starting to tremble. Your clit is starting to throb. Your body is showing an unfamiliar neediness. You sigh, removing your hunting gear from your body and setting it aside. The weight feels good when it is off of your back.

Your ears perk to the sound of feet rustling through the forest. You quickly spin around, your eyes widening.

“Jeez, don’t worry doll. It’s just me.” It is the Olo’eyktan. Jake Sully. Your gut fills with butterflies. Your brain is telling you, that maybe you should ask him to give you a ride home on his direhorse. But no, there’s something else that your cunt wants.

“Oh, ma’Olo’eyktan..” you greet him, lowering your head and making an I see you gesture. “Can I ask for your help with something?”

He knows. He knows already. He could almost smell it. You sweet, innocent thing. You need to be guided to Mo’at, maybe a boyfriend. But, he think he’s so lucky he caught you first. He gets the privilege, now- of showing you how it’s done. He gets to show you how good his cock is.

“Of course.” He dismounts his direhorse, walking over to you. You awkwardly step back, lowering your body to the forest floor. He nods. “Lean back against that rock, hon.” You do what he says, shifting your position for him.

“I- I think I’m in-“ you stutter. You’re laying down now. He calmly strides over to you and his mouth falls gently agape.

“Relax,” he chuckles, kneeling to your level. “Why don’t ya, y’know, show me?” He suggests. His hand comes to your knee and he taps it lightly with his thumb.

“I want you to, make me feel better..” you spread your legs open for him. His breath grows faster. “Help me with my problem, sir. Please.” Jake swallows and clears his throat.

“I gotta take this off, alright? Daddy’ll make ya feel real good. No more heat pains.” He assures you, now grabbing the strings of your loincloth and fiddling with them until they fall loose and untied. You wince at the fresh breeze on your engorged clit. “Shh, relax.”

“Need it, need it so bad..” you’re already dripping wet, now squirming desperately. “Please touch me.” Jake almost chokes the at request.

“You sure?” He didn’t think you’d give in this quickly. When you give him puppy dog eyes and wince from the sensitivity down there, he agrees to help you out. He starts to buck his hips against his tewng. You whine, reaching forward for the strings of his garment. He shushes you and once again asks you to relax. “I can undress myself, hon. Don’t worry.”

He shuffles his hands around his waistband until the thin fabric is removed from his body.

He’s huge. Throbbing. He gulps, his hands reaching to touch your body. Your face turns a shade of purple. You spread your legs far and wide for him.

“Please, sir.” You cannot wait any longer. He shushes you, getting into position as the leaves rustle on the ground.

“Alright, I’m gonna go in, tell me if you want me to stop.” He coos, pushing his hips forward. His cock sinks into your tight pussy, giving it the stretch it needed. His mushroom tip probes your walls immediately. You gasp, tightening around him. You needed this so bad. Jake grunts, baring his teeth as he continues to buck his hips all the way until he’s balls deep.

You whine, like a desperate animal. Your back arches. You’re so goddamn tight. When he bottoms out in you, you squeal.

“Thank you, mmph! Thank you, sir.” You moan. You start to get flustered, hot, needy. “Faster, faster, please..” you whisper, wrapping your legs around his waist. He is surprised. Pleasantly surprised. He shakes his head and smiles.

“Sure you can take it?” He teases, accepting the challenge. You beg. You beg for him to fuck you harder. You want him to fill you with cum, so that your heat will never bother you again. You don’t know how it works. All you know is that you want him to ruin you and paint you white. Breed you.

He growls, picking up the pace and fucking you harder. Your body shakes. Every thrust of his makes you wetter and wetter. You clench around his cock. He starts to notice your pleasure, challenging it by slamming into you. You yelp, arching your back as you feel his thick cock stretch you.

“Mmmph, sir!” Your eyes clench shut, your breasts bouncing with each rut.

“Too much?” He asks, his skin beginning to glisten with sweat. He hisses with every time you clench and pulse around his girth. The space fills up with the noises of arousal- moaning, panting, skin slapping, and the ground rustling.

“Feels good-“ you whimper.

“I’ll fill ya up, I’ll cum inside of you. Your tight little cunt, fuck.” He grabs your breasts, slamming into you harder and harder.

You squeal again, a primal need filling your heat as you feel Jake’s precum dribble out of his tip and towards your cervix. He fucks his seed deeper into you. You grip onto his shoulders, pulling him towards you. He pants and leans down until his chest touches yours. You love the feeling of his weight on top of you and his cum inside of you.

“Yes! Yes, Jake!” You feel your climax approaching you rapidly. An electric pleasure pulses through your body. Your clit is swollen with pure pleasure. He grunts above you, bottoming out, and holding himself there.

His tip presses into your cervix, his orgasm washing over him as his thick cum sprays into your womb. You let out a cry, your nails digging into Jake’s back.

You try to catch your breath. Jake clicks his tongue a few times before pulling out of you. A trail of cum leaks down your folds. Your eyes flutter.

“You okay?” He takes a look at your sore pussy and reaches for your loincloth. You nod. What will you tell the village?

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 6 months

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I’m itching to request another Price kidnapping fic, but I’m not gonna make you write a THIRD one despite how delicious and delightful your writing is

Congratulations!🎉🎉🎉

—Burst Veins

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [He never noticed you weren't behind him.] ❞

When he had looked back, you were gone.

Price had never been so panicked—his eyes snapping this way and that, body turning in a circle as the radio on his chest went wild with barks and intel coming in. This had turned into a shit-show fast; there were too many problems at once.

And now you had disappeared.

“Fuck!” He shouts, combat vest heavy on his chest as a soul-deep worry infects him. But John wasn’t one to drown in in-action; he was a Captain.

Wrenching a hand to the radio, he snarls the new plan to the rest of One-Four-One and tells Simon to radio into Laswell for air support as his boots begin tracing his footsteps back.

The building he was in had flickering lights above his head, making his eyes lose focus before they honed on as he shook his head. Finding you became his top priority in a matter of seconds, and that fact was both a stain and a curse on John’s brain.

Since when had you gotten so important to him beyond being a valuable asset and a member of his Task Force? It was a question for another time, evidently, because you’d been stolen out from under his very nose.

The question was…where had you gone?

—

You’re kneeling in the middle of a large lobby, hands tied and a rag stuck in your mouth as a gun is leveled at your head.

It was embarrassing how it happened—one of these goons had snuck up behind you and stuck a piece of fabric with chloroform on it to your mouth and nose, able to keep pressure for the few moments that was needed to make you loopy. And now…now you were stuck with a battle outside and your Captain probably looking for you.

Or at least…you hope he was.

The rag is ripped out of your mouth, your broken nose leaking long streaks of blood out as you hiss when fingers grab at it; a rabid shout stuck in your throat as your head is shoved back.

“Radio your soldiers,” the man speaks quickly, looking around. He couldn’t even drag you out of the building due to the gunfire—what did he expect to gain from this? “Tell them to retreat and that you are my hostage.”

Your chuckle catches him off guard, your head burning as your eyes fade in and out.

“That’s not gonna happen there, Pal.”

The safety of the gun is clicked off. “Now. Or I will shoot.”

“Then shoot,” you buy time, your hands slipping into your sleeve to grasp the handle of a blade strapped to your forearm. “Won’t matter to me—I’ll be dead.”

Those eyes of his flare as his lips peel back; the barrel firm to your forehead before it shifts to the side as he leans closer. You can smell his breath.

“Use your radio. Now—” A shadow slips into the lobby, and you don’t have to look to see who it is.

Price takes the shot with no hesitation, the man screaming as his shoulder bursts with gore and blood—wasting no time even with your loose mind, you cut your bonds and bring the knife down into the supple flesh of his neck.

Your name is called fiercely as you lean forward and cough over the body, hands grabbing at your shoulders to pull you back and get you to your knees.

“Fuckin’ hell, look at me.” A light is flicked and runs over your eyes—you bat it away as a familiar beard and serious blue eyes grace you. Your lips flicker at John’s firm stare.

“Chloroform. All good.” An aggressive sigh.

“You need to be more—”

“Aware of my surroundings, yes, Sir,” you mutter, putting a hand to your head as his fingers loosen on your gear.

“Head still on?” He asks you, eyes jumping up and down as he grunts at your broken nose; hand moving forward to push the blood back as your face heats.

“As much as it can be,” you cough again at your raw throat. “Shit, we need to get going.”

John sighs, knowing it to be true. There wasn’t time for rest—you’d put them back in crucial time. He’ll need to address this another time.

“Up and at it, soldier, we’re late.”

“Fashionably, Sir.” He hides his violent smirk before grabbing your arm and dragging you up.

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captain-mj · 9 months

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Dragon 2/3

There is going to be a third part

Ghost felt so heavy. His limbs were weighed down by the heavy chains. They chose to use iron and it burned his skin. It didn’t feel like his flames. The flames he loved. More like chemical burns. They wrapped around his wrists, ankles and his wings. He didn’t raise his head when someone came in. He stayed as a deadweight as he was dragged forward.

Roba stepped in front of him, his shoes in his line of sight. “A young King just turned 25. How exciting, yes?”

Ghost stared at him. Silent. Annoying.

“I apologize, dear friend. I searched everywhere, but it seems you’re alone. No more dragons anywhere.”

Ghost stared at him. Impassive. Horrid.

“Which means you’re going to be my gift to him. I’ve heard he doesn’t find comfort in women, so I can’t give him that. Giving him a few men would be seen as shameful, understand? It’s best to give him you. A dragon. They consider you religious. Do you think yourself divine?”

Ghost did not. He felt painfully solid. His wings were thin from disuse, though his body still had plenty of muscle.

Roba dug his heel into a weak point of his wing and Ghost bit his tongue. “Words, Ghost.”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Get him cleaned up.”

They used cold water. It tingled. So cold against his already cold body. Dragons were not supposed to be this cold. But the burning feeling in Ghost’s chest had faded to an ember. Only kept up by a stubborn need to live even when Ghost was accepting he’d much rather die.

Alone. The word rattled in his brain. No one else? No others? How unfortunate. How sad. Ghost certainly felt alone here. But that was not a new feeling.

They scrubbed his skin, blood dripping from wounds they opened with how careless they were. It felt good. In a weird way. Finally being clean was a huge plus too. They took his chains off carefully. Always keeping just enough on that he couldn’t escape. As if he would.

One of the servants kissed his cheek. Gently. A mockery of love. “Good luck.”

How would they deliver him? Whole? In pieces? Maybe they were cleaning him so they could dismember him and deliver him on a platter?

Ghost wouldn’t mind. Dying. He only hoped when the King was done, he’d get rid of his body. Burn it. Most likely, he’d be hung up like a trophy. At least, his wings would.

Ghost fell asleep in the carriage. They had been keeping him awake lately and now he knew why. No matter how hard he tried, he just passed right out.

Until his head was being dunked in ice water. How Roba even managed that was beyond him. He had been dressed while asleep. Simple loose pants. His chest was bare. More iron around his wrists and along his throat.

“Don’t embarrass me. You understand. You’re a gift. Act like it.”

Ghost nodded absentmindedly. His eyes already glazing over. He had gotten used to the patterns in Roba’s cruelty. How would this new king be?

“His name is Soap. It’s his coronation and 25th birthday. They did a joint celebration.”

Soap.

Soap….

What a weird name.

Ghost had his hair cut slightly, just enough to make it look nice again. It curled and kinked up and the person trying to make it stay down was getting upset. He ignored them and they gave up eventually.

When Roba had taken him from the farm house, he had yelled for Johnny. No one had known who that was. He had screamed until his voice went hoarse. They said no prince in the area had the name Johnny. Did the human lie to him? Why? Being royalty meant nothing to Ghost. Him being a prince meant nothing.

“Put your wings up. Need him to know you’re a dragon.” One of them hit him lightly and made him hold his wings up.

They were heavy. They had never been heavy before. But right now, they just ached something fierce. Ghost felt them start to drag and one of them quickly corrected them.

“Either hold them up or we cut parts of them off.”

Ghost found the least uncomfortable way to hold up his wings. He tried not to let his eyelids droop. Exhaustion was getting to him.

Then, he was marched into a room. Full of people. All of who looked at… at him.

Why were they looking at him?

“King MacTavish! I hope I’m not late.” Roba walked forward and Ghost trailed behind him, feeling like he was being set on fire and not in a good way. “I brought you something?”

Ghost felt like the room was spinning. Was it spinning?

A thick accent. One he swore he heard before. It was talking but the room was spinning too had. His wings were drooping. They hurt. He was heavy.

Someone was screaming. It was loud. High pitched. Maybe it was him.

Roba’s voice. Full of pride.

“The Last Dragon.”

Ghost knew he wasn’t the one screaming. He was on the floor. A blade. There was a blade.

More screaming. It was so loud.

Ghost fell asleep.

He missed Soap’s hate filled berating of Roba. The way he pulled out a weapon and threatened to cut him from throat to belly button. If he saw it, he’d be proud.

Ghost only knew that when he woke up, there was not a single chain on him. That the ground beneath him felt soft. A blanket draped over his body. And he had been scrubbed clean in his sleep. He could tell because his skin tingled and smelled floral.

Soap, his King, paced at the foot of the bed. Angry, violent footsteps.

Ghost had displeased him. Most likely by passing out.

He didn’t move an inch. Simply waited. Maybe he’d calm down.

Soap stopped moving. The deafening silence followed.

Ghost bit his tongue as he felt him approach. Felt soft fingertips along his back. Along the bulk of his wings.

“Simon.”

Ghost felt him saying that name like a stab wound. “Ghost.”

“Ghost.”

Hands through his hair. Gentle. A mockery of love.

“Oh, Ghost. What did they do to you?” Soap asked him softly.

Ghost’s eyes fluttered. “Johnny?”

“Hi.”

Oh. He was a Prince.

Ghost didn’t want to move. He felt tight. Like he’d break open if he moved too fast.

Soap gently brushed his hair out of his face. “Look at you. Still so bonnie.”

His accent had gotten thicker. Ghost still flinched when he came too close to his face.

He moved to instead stroke Ghost’s hair. He scratched his scalp gently and it felt so nice Ghost almost moaned. Instead, he went slack, letting Soap manipulate him how he wanted.

Incredibly careful hands touched his body. Inspecting the cuts. The bruises. The now harsh scars that would never leave.

Then came the kisses. A simple press of the lips over every one. Until Ghost felt so wound up, he was afraid he’d break apart. Shatter into a thousand tiny little pieces. A sob passed his lips and Soap pressed into him.

“You’re okay. You’re alright.”

It was too much.

“Please.”

Soap pressed closer. His skin impossibly too hot and too cold. “What do you need? How can I help?”

“Stop touching me.” It was a risky move.

Soap yanked back. “O-of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean.”

Ghost pressed his face into the pillows. “If you want something from me, just take it and go.”

“No. I’ll do nothing of the sort.” Soap said quickly. Ghost shuddered, wondering what he was planning.

Was he still mad Ghost left all those years ago? Yes, it wasn’t on purpose, but that meant nothing to human. Or maybe he wanted to finish what he started all those years ago.

The idea of Soap, or Johnny he supposed, pinning him down. Taking advantage of his weakness to fulfill his human desires.

Wouldn’t be the first time. Soap was softer though. Weaker than your average human. Maybe he’d at least take it slow. That would drag it out though.

“Are you hungry? You’ve been asleep a long time.”

Ghost tried to piece together how long exactly he had been asleep. He was hungry. So fucking hungry.

“I’ll take that as a yes you are.” Soap rang a bell and someone brought them food. He started to situate the pillows, making them into a weird pile.

Ghost watched him pat the pile multiple times before realizing he was supposed to sit there. He slowly moved and sat in front of him. Soap pushed him into it and… it was comfy. Really comfy.

Ghost slowly melted into it, head tilting back. Soft underbelly exposed.

Stab him. Cut him open. Bleed him dry.

Soap did no such thing. He took the plate from them and knelt in front of him on the bed. “Just eat, yes?” There wasn’t much room for arguing. His hand was cupping Ghost’s jaw with the other holding bread, making it impossible to escape.

Ghost opened his mouth slowly and he could see Soap counting his teeth. Some had been filed or broken, but his body would just make more. He’d have to remove some of them before he could replace them, but it would be fine. Ghost ate from his hand slowly, feeling intense shame from the act but an understanding that he wouldn’t be fed otherwise. It wasn’t the most degrading thing he had to do for food.

Soap kept stroking his face. His chin, his cheeks, under his eyes.

“Beautiful.”

Ghost was confused what he found attractive about his scar riddled body, but if he had his fetishes, he had them. He finished eating, starting to feel sick despite only getting a few mouthfuls down.

Soap cupped his face fully, taking him in.

“I missed you.”

Ghost didn’t look at him.

“That’s okay. I’m so glad you’re alive. That I can see you again.”

Ghost closed his eyes slowly.

Soap was feral. A bit like a puppy. He kept touching Ghost. His fingertips running over his wings. Presence all around him. He smelled so strongly of different things. Nice things, don’t get him wrong. Just overwhelming.

Ghost opened his mouth but before he could even get words out, Soap was jumping up and down.

“Need a drink? You must be thirsty.” Soap fixed him a glass of tea and brought it to him. He still had his crown on. And his coronation outfit. It was funny, seeing someone that looked so royal care for him.

Soap’s red coat hit the ground, gorgeous against his white shirt. Ghost could see the intricate gold coloring and it took him a minute, but he realized it emulated his own gold scarring. The designs on the coat jumbled on the back, giving the appearance of wings.

Did Johnny miss him that much?

Ghost hated himself for leaving.

Soap hesitated. There were mere inches between them. It felt like nothing to Ghost and too far to Soap. Ghost felt smothered. Unused to such affections.

Soap wanted to swallow him whole.

#johnny soap mactavish #ghostsoap #soapghost #simon ghost riley #soap cod #cod mw2 #ghost cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii

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ja3hwa · 2 years

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Whose First | Ot8!Ateez

「Synopsis」 : You were suppose to be good and not make a noise, now they all want your attention.

「Word count」 : 1.6k

-> Genre: Mafia, Smut

Paring: 0t8!Ateez x Female Reader (Poly Au)

[Warnings] : Pet names, grinding, dirty talk, hair pulling, mxm, daddy kink, sir kink, master kink, heavy mentions and indications of subspace, spanking, fingering, choking, crying, mentions of mafia business. A whole lotta stuff ahha

Note : Thank you to my anonymous reader for this request. I hope I didn't go to overboard....♡

[REBLOG AND COMMENT FEEDBACK]

READ PART TWO -> HERE

A fairy tale. A dark, twisted and exciting fairy tale. That is the only way to describe your life. You never meant for it to happen but when charming eyes lingered on you and sweet voices laced with sin whispered in your ear, how could you not fall deeply in love? You stand on a pedestal, royal among men and your eight kings worship the ground you walk on. They were cruel, unholy but whenever you step into the room they become obsessed with tending to you with love and devotion.

Seonghwa had you tight in his hold as you sit on his lap in the meeting room. His fingers tucked under the hem of your nightshirt, rubbing circles into your soft skin. Your lips latched on you’re his skin, kissing, licking and sucking on his neck. You were playing a dangerous game but you didn’t care, they woke you on purpose since they hadn’t seen you all day. And since you were sleeping, San had to drag you out of bed so you made your way to napping on Seonghwa while the boys were finishing a meeting. But instead of sleep, all your brain could think about was your boys. Your brain filling to the brim with nothing but them, and your desire you each one of them.

“Bunny if you keep sucking so hard, I’ll start calling you my little vampire.” Seonghwa groans in your ear, shifting in his seat, snaking his hands on your ass cheeks before squeezing hard. You could feel his erection grow under you, making you grind harder on him. Hongjoong continues to talk over plans of another transaction that you have no care for, but your not-so-quiet whimper caused all the men in the room to turn over to the display of you grinding desperately on Hwa. Yeosang clicked his tongue before snapping his fingers, indicating for all the men other than your boys you leave the room. They all pile out quickly afraid that if they don’t follow the instructions they would be in far more trouble than they need.

The door closes with a heavy clank echoing in the large room. Hongjoong chuckles, stepping towards you and Seonghwa, watching you intensely. His hand runs up your hunched back, racking up to your loose hair before tugging your off Seonghwa so you sit up straight. You look up at Joong with glossy eyes, in a daze. His sinister smile grew on his face as his eyes blow up at the sight of you. Seonghwa is panting, clearly horny from your actions. Bright red marks paint his neck, marks that make you giggle. The rest of the boys watched carefully, wondering how this might unfold.

“Hey, Angel...” Hongjoong cooed, patting your head, making you nuzzle into his hand. “You seem to have become a bit of a distraction tonight.” He tilts his head, his tongue poking against his cheeks. Your brain is in a fuzz, whimpering slightly feeling a little guilt shiver over you.

“I’m sorry Daddy, I didn’t mean to...” Your voice was small and quiet, but it echoed in the large—mostly empty—room. Seonghwa chuckled with a raised eyebrow giving Joong a knowing look. Your tired brain and Seonghwa’s touch have made your mind slip, falling into a state that doesn’t normally come out of you so easily unless you are in the safety of your bedroom. Hongjoong let's go of your hair, letting you sit on Hwa’s upright without him. Joong turned briefly tilting his head to gesture you to the other males behind him before walking over to stand next to Seonghwa. You watched as carefully as you could, seeing Joong lean down to place his lips on the taller man. You whimper watching them kiss one another, grinding slightly on Hwa while his hand tightens on your thighs.

“It’s okay Tiny, I’m here.” Yunho’s voice makes you jump slightly before leaning into his large chest after figuring out who it is. His hands snake around your torso, snuggling his face into your neck.

“Sir…” You look up to see him, but another set of hands come to grip your waist, pulling you off Seonghwa’s lap.

“Make that Sirs, little one.” Mingi’s voice growls in your ear, placing you on the table just next to where you were seated. Seonghwa and Hongjoong break their kiss, turning to watch Yunho and Mingi manhandling you onto the table. You wrap your legs around Yunho’s thick waist, gripping his dress shirt tightly. Mingi’s hand glide up your exposed thigh, grazing your hot flesh. You whimper, trying to retch Yunho lips. He chuckles darkly, lean just high enough above you so you wouldn’t be able to reach him.

“Oh come on Yun, don’t be mean,” Mingi smirked, gently pulling your face by your chin to his, so he can kiss you passionately. You moan through the kiss, letting go of Yunho to grip onto Mingi’s shoulders. Yunho take this position as an opportunity, leaning down he latched his mouth on your exposed neck biting and sucking hard on your hot neck. Mingi and Yunho’s hands both rest on your inner thigh, making you spread them further in hopes they would ache the pain that grew below. Yunho dropped to his knees pulling you so your legs hung more off the table, while Mingi kept his assault on your lips. His tongue pushing past into your mouth to dance with yours, you can't help my whimper more and more. Yunho kisses and bites the soft flesh of your inner making you pull back to take a big breath in.

“Ahh, S-Sir please…” You couldn’t comprehend what was about to happen, all you want was to have someone, all of them, close to you. Mingi pulls the hem of your shirt before tearing it from your body, leaving your top half naked. All the boy's breath hitched, seeing you so exposed with a fucked out expression on your face. Before Yunho could do anything else. A hand wrapped around your arm, pulling you off the table with a lot of strength. You fell into Jongho’s lap, your chest pressed firmly on his with either leg hanging over his large thighs.

“Come on Honey, Let us take care of you,” his hand slides down the valley between your breast, down your stomach until his fingertips tapped the hem of your sleep shorts. His lips kissed over all the marks on your neck, he was much more gentle compared to your other lovers. He would shower you with softness and love. But don’t let that fool you. Even though he was the sweetest, he was ultimately the cruellest out of the lot, the strongest too. He had a mean streak that would scare anyone that dares to cross him. Scare anyone but you that is.

“Look at me, baby.” Yeosang’s voice sang in your ear as you notice he moved from his chair to stand in front of you and Jongho. He leans down to pull at your shorts, dragging them down your legs slowly.

“Master…” You tilt your head towards Yeo, retching for him, but Jongho’s hold held you firmly on him. Your shorts fall to the ground, leaving you in just your panties. Yeosang lowly growls at the sight, Jongho pushes himself so his seat rolls on the wheels lightly on the wooden floor so he can sit in eye view of all the males in the room.

“Be good now Honey. We want to hear your pretty moans.” He whispers into your ear before his fingers slide past your panties, grazing over your slit. You grip his biceps, gasping at his cold fingers on your hot skin. One finger slipped inside making you choke out a loud moan, making all the men groan in response. He added a second, picking up a steady pace. His rings are cold on your hot flesh, making the sensation all that pleasurable. You lent your head on his broad shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut while bucking your hip harshly. You were becoming closer and closer to your release, and your body and moans made everyone aware. But before you reach your climax, a new pair of hands grabbed you, literally throwing you onto someone else. Your chest landing on his, you cried at the lose of Jongho’s fingers.

“Shh, Don’t want you cumming just yet Doll.” A sinister chuckle growled in your ear as a heavy hand slapped your ass cheek. You cried, tears breaking down your face, your fingers grip on the man's large shoulders, whimpering for something, anything to make you feel better.

“Please Woo, Please I’m a good girl… I—..” You become a mess and that’s exactly what they all wanted. You begging to be fucked by all of them. Another slap meets your red flesh making you choke on your saliva. San stood in front of Wooyoung, snaking his hand around your neck, pulling up off him so you stand up, using his body to keep yourself upright. Your fuzzy eyes open to see all the boys now standing around up. They are all much taller than you, bigger than you. San’s hand squeezed a little more, pulling your head up to look at all of them. They all have dark, lustful smiles painted on each of them.

“So baby… Who do you want to take you first”

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jokingmisfit · 1 year

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Nightmare not Reality

Reiji Sakamaki x Reader

Prompt- “I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

I had no idea how to end this so if the ending is bad I am sorry.

It was stupid, and I know that when he sees me he’ll call me pathetic, maybe even ‘punish’ me for disturbing him, but I can’t not check on him.

The images flashed in my mind. His barren eyes. They always hide emotion, but they look empty and hollow. They looked just like him, dead.

The sensible part of me whispers that it was just a nightmare, that none of it was real, but another part says that it could be a sign he needs help.

It surprised me that I even cared. After all he’s done, after all he does. I still care.

I didn’t at first. In the beginning I hated him and his brothers. The only reason I didn’t fight them off was so Yui was being drained of every drop of blood in her body.

Eventually, though, Reiji made me spend hours of my day in his study or his room. He wanted to teach me about everything and anything. He adored the punishments he got to give when I slipped up, but he held me so closely afterwards.

It was nothing more than Identification or, more commonly known, Stockholm Syndrome.

Me believing that he was nice to any capacity was just my brain trying to cope, to save me. The smaller part of me is trying to keep me safe and far from insanity.

My mind races as I grab my silk robe. The creamy white cloth wrapped around my body loosely. I pull it closer to give myself faux comfort.

I step out of my room. I take calming breaths as I walk to his room. The last thing I need is for him to hear my breath hitching. The deep breathing helps me to stop shaking too.

I get to his room door and knock lightly. I found that tapping twice on the door gets the best reaction from him. I doubt any reaction will be great after waking him up, however.

I stand quietly. I listen closely hoping to hear anything from inside.

I don’t.

The door opens abruptly. I look up as calmly as I can. I know he isn’t happy. The obvious is shown more when I look into his eyes.

He’s glaring down, but not speaking. He wants me to speak first. I know.

I know.

I take in a breath and wrap my arms around myself. “I’m sorry to wake you… I, um, was worried about you…”

Reiji continues to stare.

“Ok, uh, you, um, think I’m being weird. I guess that’s fine and you’re probably going to think I’m pathetic for saying this, but,” I say, stumbling over my words. “I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Because as stupid as I know for a fact I sound, I care about you and just needed to know that you are good.”

My hands start to shake again, and he continues to stare. Usually he’d say something. He should’ve said something by now? Right?

I shakily sigh. “Well, you’re alright, so I’m, um, gonna go, i guess… Um bye.”

I send him a slight wave and turn to go.

Quickly, I’m pulled back to my spot from before.

Reiji looks down at me with the usual glare. His magenta eyes still shine in the dark.

“It’s rude to interrupt someone so abruptly then leave so unpleasantly.” He states matter-of-factly.

“I wasn’t trying to be rude.” I whispered. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t hurt.”

“I’d say you sound pathetic, but you’re clearly already aware of that.” He opened the door wider. “Come inside, sit on the couch.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

I move into the room. Reiji closes the door. I walk with precise steps, or at least I try. He watches me, he always does. I sit straight on the edge of the couch. He walks over to the couch and sits next to me.

“I’m not sitting right.” I whisper.

“You’re not.” He responds. “But, your mind is fractured. Isn’t it?”

“It was just a nightmare… Nightmares aren’t real.” I mutter.

“They are not,” He agrees. “However, your mind is weak. Tell me, what is it you saw that frightens you so much? Hm?”

Dead magenta eyes. A limp body. Perfectly groomed hair, and clothes now tangled and torn.

Over and over I saw his death.

I look over to him. Tears brimmed in my eyes, and I couldn't care what he must’ve thought.

“I saw you… I saw you dead.” I couldn’t say anything else.

I fold my hands in my lap tensely.

“I don’t see why that is so disturbing for you.” He states in confusion.

“Because I care!” I shout. “Because for some reason the thought of no longer being able to talk to you or see you anymore stresses me out and the thought of someone hurting you scares me because no matter how much I want to hate you I don’t! Cause you’re the only person I can talk to about tea sets and tea flavors and you teach me new things and you smell amazing and you do everything in a confusingly perfect manner that makes me admire you more than I do anyone else.” I sigh. “Because I stupid as it sounds I don’t wanna lose you.”

Reiji adjusts his glasses and lets out a sadistic laugh. “How adorable… You do realize however that no matter how your mind twists things, you will never be rid of me.” He pulls me closer. “Even if you wish to leave you can’t. That being said, no fantasy will keep you from me.”

“I sure hope so…”

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers x reader #reiji sakamaki #reiji sakamaki x reader #sakamaki reiji #sakamaki reiji x reader #yandere reiji sakamaki

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maybe-limerence · 6 months

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Torment

Yandere! Forest god x Underworld god! Gender neutral! Reader x Platonic! Yandere! ???

We be flipping the Persephone/Hades roles with this one boys

TW: force feeding (mention), yandere behavior

Authors note: yeah, I got a little carried away with this one lol. Also, happy first day of Halloweek!

💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹

How long had it been since you were in the human world? Six.. seven.. maybe eight hundred years?

No matter, you had forgotten what the sun felt like beating on your face, what the grass felt like, what the flowers smelled like.

All of the things were so lovely it felt almost overwhelming.

You were wandering around the forest when you had cut your ankle slightly.

A rose bush.

The roses were slightly unnerving with how red they were, almost the color of fresh blood.

The more you looked at them, the more you became oblivious to your surroundings. You were never the most observant.

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A pair of green eyes watched your movements thoughtfully.

You had to have been some sort of god, or at least favored by one, to have been that beautiful.

The forest god who overlooked the woods you were in had never seen someone who looked like you in the span of time they ruled.

They had to get a closer look.

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A sudden breeze took up, ruffling your hair. The chill had you shivering.

You were too busy focusing on the cold that you neglected the fact the flower you were previously admiring had released a sweet smelling scent.

Your head began to spin, and a slight laugh echoed in your mind.

Your eyes began to shut as you fell on the grass, succumbing to the darkness of sleep.

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You awake with a start, shooting up. You were in a.. cottage? Slowly getting up, you walk to the closest window and look out.

You quickly realized the cottage was in a tree. A very very tall tree.

Backing away from the window, you rack your brain in hopes of finding a reason you were in a tree cottage.

“Oh, you’re awake!” A voice calls.

You whip your head to look at where the voice came from.

A being stood before you. Red curly hair, green eyes, pale skin. Pointed ears, tree branches as horns, fairy like wings.

A forest god.

“Um, hi? Who are you?” You ask, confused.

“My name is not important,” they reply.

“Oh, ok. I’m not sure how I got up here.. did you take me here?”

“Yes, I did,”

“Why?” You shoot the god a worried glance.

“I wanted to get to know you, more specifically what you are.”

You let out a sigh, though you’re not sure if it’s of relief or nervousness.

“I am a death god, and I really must get going. I have du—,”

“No!” They shout, branches glowing slightly, disturbing a bird that was on the window ledge.

“Wh-what?” You ask, scooting away slightly.

“No,” they say in much calmer voice.

“Why not?!” You ask.

“Because, I haven’t seen someone like you before,”

“But I have duties!”

“They can wait!” The god insist.

“I don’t want to worry my father! He’s the king of the underworld, and he gets worried easily,” you continue.

“Well, I’m keeping you, that’s final,” they say, forcefully.

You pout, trying to think of a way out of this. You were never the best at strategies.

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In the underworld, your father was growing anxious.

Pacing and chewing his nails, his closest adviser told him of your disappearance and who the believed to be the cause of it.

“A forest god?! What would a forest god want with my beloved child?!” You father yells.

“We-we don’t know sir,” the adviser says.

“I don’t care, just—“ your father drops to the floor. “— bring my child back to me,”

“We will sir.” The advisor leaves.

Your father rises from his knees, looking at the portrait of your late mother and you, when you were small.

“I can’t loose you too,”

🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀

You’ve been stuck in that cottage for a while, looking at the window.

You could’ve climbed out of there, but you don’t want to fall

You may have a god for a father, but your mother was a low ranking deity. You aren’t sure if you’d survive if you fell and you don’t want your father to be sad.

“Dear, come and eat!” The god calls.

You still have yet to eat, and you were growing hungry, but your defiant nature pushed it down.

“I’m not hungry!” You call back.

Footsteps echo the cottage and you are met with a disappointed look.

“Dear, you haven’t eaten since you’ve been here, I know you’re lying. What’s bothering you?”

“I’m just not hungry.” You turn back to the window.

A sinister aura pierces through the air and pricks at your skin.

You’re nervous but you don’t look at the god.

“You either eat with me, or I force feed you. You pick.”

You whip your head to look at them, noticing how they’re inches away from you.

You back closer to the window, frightened by the expression they’re making.

“What’s your choice?”

“I—“

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A winged individual flies through the forest, decay and rot following.

They were the leader of the Thanoi, a group of gods and goddesses who led the souls of the dead to their destinations in the underworld.

This one, the leader Thanatos, had grown close with you. He had been there when your mother died, he played with you when your father couldn’t, he took care of you. You were like his child.

And he wouldn’t allow someone to take his child.

🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀

“I—“

You continue to back away in fear, not accounting how close you were from the window ledge.

“What will it be?” The god asks.

“I’m truly not hun—“

“Oh Ophel~” a familiar voice calls.

Uncle Thanatos!

You take the moment of surprise to push past the god.. Ophel.. and run into your uncles arms.

“Heya kiddo!” Your uncle says, disregarding the god that is before them.

Snapping to their senses, they became enraged.

“What do you want, Thanatos?!” Ophel asks, pointedly.

“Well, the underworld hasn’t been as fun as it used to without the little heir running around!” Thanatos says with a cold smile “I’ve come to collect them!”

“No!” Ophel screeches.

“Well, you have no say in this, Αντίο!”

With that, you’re home.

💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹

“Oh, my sweet child!” Your father calls, hugging you tightly.

“Hi papa!” You return the embrace.

You feel him shaking.

He’s crying. Don’t cry papa!

You give him a squeeze him softly.

“Please, don’t ever leave me again…” he whispers.

#yandere #darling #oc stuff #yandere x reader #maybe limerence #yandere x you #yandere x y/n

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takami-takami · 1 year

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Best In Show.

includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. smut.

warnings— masc petnames. heavy petplay. puppy play. collaring. oral.

On your knees.

That's where good pups belong— That's what Keigo tells you, anyway.

The picture of ownership, the winged figure above steps up to your kneeling form and lowers himself down to your level. He sits on his haunches when he observes you. It's nearly clinical, how he looks down with lidded attention, domineering and fully clothed to contrast your bare exposure.

Your neck is straight, your eyes are focused. Your form is immaculate. Poised tight and present, your attention is focused entirely on him. He nods once in approval. You learn quick.

His head tilts absentmindedly when he scans your form. Two thick digits test the tightness of your choke collar, skimming the bare flesh that lies beneath the jingling sound of clinking metal. He tuts a dissaproving sound; it's at least two notches too loose for his liking.

Keigo likes his boy chained tight with a leash he can drag them along by. He's not ashamed to admit it. When he first caught a look at you, the supposed pro-hero with a "canine" quirk, he could see right through your facade of an exterior. You put on quite the show for the cameras, for the adoring fans around you; tabloids called you fierce and assertive, challenge-driven with a fiery drive to climb to the top.

When you first met the number two hero at some conference he can barely recall the name of, you took the initiative and shook his hand. He all but knowingly grinned at your practiced, too tight grip.

It's a good thing Keigo is so astute. You may be able to fool everyone else, may be able to convince every villain you're a wolf of the streets, but Keigo knows better.

Beneath that bark and bite, you're just a puppy, aren't you?

Eager to please, eager to bend over to his whims, eager to be broken in.

You're all bark, and just a little bit of bite. He wonders if he should clicker train that biting habit of yours out of you; but then he'd miss the sting you leave on his flesh when he makes you feel just a bit too good between the legs.

"There we go," he coos, low and affirmative as he clicks the collar tighter. "There's my good boy!" He pinches your chin betwixt two of his fingers and gives it a little shake, his other hand reaching behind your head to ruffle your hair. You keen a whine in response, craning your neck to lean into his touch, chasing the praise that heats your core.

A mistake, you quickly realize.

The hand that once cradled your chin shoots back, his fingers clicking a snap in front of your nose. "Ah-Ah. No." You go rigid at his stern, chastising tone. A whimper catches at the back of your throat. "Sit straight, puppy. Don't be bad."

You scramble to correct your posture. It warms his heart, swells it with pride at the masterpiece of his own creation before him. Just needed a little guidance, and you'd bend your back in more ways than one to please him.

Obedient little thing.

He pulls at your sensitive ears, chewing his cheek in delight at the way you wince with restraint, trying not to thump your leg at his touch.

It's a sight that chips away at his own self-control, makes him fucking ache with need. There's only so much a man can take before the swell of his own cock tempts him, beckons him with a devastating need to bury it somewhere soft and warm and wet.

His focus locks in on your parted lips.

When he watches your panting breath, his own comes quicker, too. He wants your tongue lolled out, wants you drooling on something else, somewhere far filthier than your precious little puppy brain can handle.

Nostrils flaring, his hands dart down and unbuckle his pants with animalistic haste. When he smashes his lips against yours, your squeak is adorable; it fuels him to lick and bite at the sensitive skin of your lips, until a gasp makes way for his tongue to enter your mouth.

"Sir—" you hiccup, struggling to keep upright against the force of his affections. He takes pity on you, noticing the wobble in your stance, and cradles the back of your head before pulling away with a pop. The slick string of spit connecting you intoxicates him, pulls the concentration of his dilating pupils. With the swish of a single finger, he collects the drool at the corner of your lips before popping it into his mouth and making a show of cleaning it off.

"Sorry, puppy." He wipes his mouth clean with the back of his hand, muttering with a lopsided grin, "Can't help m'self. You're just too cute." He plants a kiss to your forehead in apology, humming when you don't move a muscle.

The hard outline of his cock pressing against his jeans becomes near painful at this point, and he knows the perfect remedy for the ache.

Your puppy dog eyes follow him as he stands before you. They trail down to drink in the sight of the toned muscles of his arms, watching the flex of the veins on his forearms as he pulls the buckles of his belt apart.

"C'mere, that's a good pup, go ahead— fuck," he groans when you dash forward to press your face against the bulge in front of you, the second you get permission.

"Easy now, boy," he chuckles, throwing his head back at the rough tongue that mouths at him through his boxer briefs. "Goddamn—"

When he finally pulls himself free, your wide-eyed rapture tugs at the threads of his already nearly gone restraint. "Go on. Stick out your tongue, pant nice and pretty for me."

With your hands fisted at your thighs, it's a challenge to fit his thick length into your panting, awaiting mouth; but you manage, driven by a loyal enthusiasm to worship your whole world towering above you.

When you pull back and suck the tip, running your tongue along the underside of his head, he squeezes his eyes shut so tight he sees white. "Fuck, thats'it. Good boy," he slurs. Daring to open one eye, he catches sight of your fluffy tail wagging for him, the swish, swish of its back and forth planting an idea in his mind.

Now that he's got the idea, the visual of you on all fours, pulled back onto his cock by a tight fist tugging your tail, he pulls away to your pathetic whine. Your eyes follow him as he makes his way to the bed, sitting legs spread and tapping the mattress in a silent command.

You know exactly what he wants.

When you plant yourself face down and ass up for him, he beams with pride.

Your form is immaculate.

#🌶 spice #🖋 writing #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #smut mention #hawks smut #hawks x male reader #bnha thirst #mha thirst

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mangostarjam · 1 month

Text

late night confessions — kaiju no. 8, fluff, "sweetheart" as a pet name, hoshina soshiro x female reader, 1.6k words, sequel to this fic + part three

Something is a little… off.

You clutch your longtime crush's borrowed jacket in your hands, rumpling the fabric as you shift your weight. The door to Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro's room is shut, but you know he's in there — not that you've been… keeping tabs or anything, but he just got off duty and dinner was an hour ago so where else could he be?

In the training rooms again, overworking — but no, he pinky promised you just this morning that he'd go to bed on time tonight.

All you need to do is knock. One of the perks of being Vice Captain means he has his own room, so you wouldn't be disturbing anyone else. True, he didn't exactly invite you to his room today, but he's been… avoiding you. A little bit.

Okonogi thinks it's all in your head. You confessed to her after she cornered you about your new pet name, and she's been championing your relationship developments ever since. "You don't see the way he looks at you sometimes! And didn't you just talk this morning?"

But besides calling you "sweetheart" in public — always in that light, casual tone he uses with pretty much everyone except higher ups — Soshiro hasn't made any moves to acknowledge that night in the training room. He doesn't even stand that close to you anymore.

That's… bad, right? What if he's changed his mind? What if he's come to realize that he doesn't want you like that — but he can't figure out how to reject you, especially not when you work so closely together —

"Argh, this is why relationships are frowned upon in the Defense Force," you mutter, shoving your face into the jacket in your hands.

"Huh? What're you doin' here, sweetheart?"

Shoot. Stupid Vice Captain and his stupid light feet and the stupid doors being so well maintained you didn't even hear it open.

"I came to return your jacket, sir."

You hold it out and resolutely focus on his neck, directly in your line of sight. It's missing the skintight turtleneck of his fighting shirt, which means… he's in casual clothes. Your gaze dips down slightly to confirm this and… you find nothing.

Instead, your eyes drag over miles of smooth, densely packed muscle covered by pale, scarred skin, visible reminders of the many battles he's faced and the numerous kaiju he's slayed. Oh, shit.

You close your eyes. "I apologize, sir, I didn't mean to disturb you! Please —"

"Aw, you're givin' it back? I liked seein' you in it."

You feel his hands wrap around yours and peek open your eyes slowly, doing your best to keep them on his neck. Not that it's really much of a safe spot to look, when the strong column of his throat just meets the sharp cut of his jawline and before you know it you're glancing up at his lips which are… frowning.

Why's he frowning?

"Y-you do? Sir?"

"Come inside, will ya?" Soshiro says, tugging you in and kicking the door shut with his foot before you can protest. "There. Now we're alone."

He says it expectantly, raising an eyebrow when you gape at him. "S-sir?"

Soshiro's frown deepens. The adrenaline rushing through your veins is making you jumpy, and you're sure he can feel your hands twitch in his grasp.

"I said it was fine when we're alone, right?"

What is he…? Oh. Oh.

"Hoshina-kun?"

Soshiro's frown lightens and he sighs, releasing your hands and taking the jacket. You watch, brain swirling, as he hangs it up neatly and pulls on a loose t-shirt. Silently you mourn the loss of the view, but the way his arm muscles bunch and stretch as he moves more than makes up for it. He must've just finished in the bath — he's wearing black track pants that ride low on his hips, and his hair is still a little damp.

"Was anyone givin' you a hard time? About my jacket?"

It takes you a second to register his words, and you shake your head quickly. "No, nobody said anything, I just… felt bad for borrowing it for so long. I thought you might want it back."

"It wasn't that long…"

You stare up at him. Is he… is he pouting?

The urge to giggle bursts out before you can help it, and Soshiro's expression lightens at the sound. "You're so cute when you laugh."

Heat burns along your cheeks. So he still thinks you're cute! All hope is not lost! "Is there… is there something bothering you, Hoshina-kun?"

Surprise flits across his face before he smothers it down with a grin. "Now, why would ya think that? Everythin's just peachy!"

The hum of air conditioning kicks on and fills the room with a low buzz. It's your first time inside Soshiro's room, but you aren't surprised that he keeps it neat and tidy. There's a low shelf filled with books, and his bed is made with not a wrinkle in sight. He's left the overhead light off and only flicked on the lamp at his bedside, so the corners are bathed in shadows.

You fix him with a glare and watch with satisfaction as he gulps. You're tired of dancing around the subject, and apparently Soshiro is a master at deflection and compartmentalizing. "Don't lie to me, Hoshina-kun. You haven't been… the same, lately. Do you… Are you trying to reject me?"

Soshiro's grin slips off his face and his red eyes widen. "So you were confessin'? That wasn't me gettin' my hopes up?"

"Wha— what did you think it was?" you ask, flabbergasted. Is he serious right now? The furrow of his eyebrows tells you yes. "I told you that you're the only one allowed to call me a pet name! And that you stress me out! I held your hand!"

"Well," Soshiro winces, "I know the job's stressful, so I thought it was that. And maybe you were just lettin' me call you 'sweetheart' 'cause you didn't wanna get mixed up with Okonogi. 'Sides… it was late. Maybe you just didn't wanna trip on the walk back."

He's got his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his track pants. His shoulders are a little hunched, and he's still watching every confused and exasperated expression cross your features, but somehow you still surprise him when you take a few steps forward to cup his face in your hands.

Your palms are warm. Your thumbs sweep along his cheekbones soothingly and he leans into the touch. "I really, really like you, Hoshina-kun."

"You do? Even though I'm only good with blades?"

You squish his cheeks in surprise. "How is that even relevant?"

Soshiro reaches up to pull your hands away from his face so that he can speak. "I was just thinkin'... I know I've got my work cut out for me, choosin' this path of mine, but that doesn't mean you've gotta walk it, too. You could pick anyone else — a civilian, so you don't hafta worry 'bout them riskin' their lives, or another Defense Force member who can actually use a gun —"

"Hoshina Soshiro," you say firmly. His eyes widen in surprise, but he stops talking. "Begging your pardon, Vice Captain, sir, but please shut up. I like you for a whole bunch of reasons, and you don't get to decide that I should choose someone else just because you're feeling self conscious."

"Even if I've got beady eyes and a bowl cut?"

"I'm going to kick Captain Narumi's ass the next time we visit the First Division," you grumble, but a corner of your mouth lifts as Soshiro laughs. Man, just watching him laugh makes your stomach swoop. "You know I think you're hot, right?"

"Whuh?"

"Did you seriously not notice me trying not to check you out like five minutes ago?"

"Y-you were? Wow, I've got one cute admirer."

You drop his hands and sink into a crouch, burying your face into your arms with a muffled groan. Now that the issues have been aired out, you can feel your adrenaline leaving you in a rush. Soshiro goes down on his knees an instant later, hitting the floor with a thunk, yanking your arms free so that you're facing him properly. "Hold on, sweetheart, what was that?"

"Hoshina-kun, do you like me?"

Soshiro's face turns charmingly pink. You want to take that as a "yes", but you wait as he sits back on his heels and scratches at the side of his face. "Ain't it obvious?"

You put your face in your arms again. The long ends of your lab coat are pooled around you, and Soshiro is careful to avoid pinning you in place as he leans forward to tug at your hair. The hum of the air conditioner clicks off and you sit in silence for a moment.

"Are we dating now?"

You lift your head to glare at him incredulously. "No." Maybe you should be nicer about this — it's clear your Vice Captain is in over his head, no matter how easily he seemed to be teasing you before. "You haven't even confessed yet!"

There's a beat of silence, and then —

"I like you." Soshiro looks determined in spite of the redness of his ears. "I think you're funny, and cute, and brilliant. You're always supportin' me and the lil' fledglings, and you make me feel like... I exist. Even though we could die at any moment fightin' kaiju, you make me happy." Soshiro pauses and rubs at the back of his head sheepishly. "Yikes, that was kinda sappy."

Heat burns through your body. You can't help the silly smile that spreads across your face. "Yeah? I guess we can date now."

"Good." The hand at your hair slides forward to cup the back of your neck. Soshiro grins, his entire body unwinding with the release of tension as he leans forward. "'Cause I ain't ever givin' up my spot at your side."

#hoshina x reader #x reader #kn8 x reader #kn8 writing #kaiju no. 8 fic #kaiju no. 8 writing #kn8 fic #hoshina soshiro x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #fuji writes fic #i am sooooo sleep deprived you don't even know #i may come back to this and decide i hate it #but for now. sending it out into the void

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crepe-of-wrath · 1 year

Text

Shouta Scarf-ish Saturday

notes/warnings: no smut; this is sort of a Courtly Love-ish/neo-medieval Romantic AU setting; not meant to be historically accurate in any way; Author liked Sleeping Beauty as a child and apologizes in advance; Reader is the Young Queen and Aizawa is the Old King's Young Knight; this will be at least a couple of parts Very loosely inspired by THIS ART from My Hero: Ultra Impact

The sun's light and warmth woke you up, but not in the way you were used to. Instead of being mediated through glass panes and curtains, the light was immediate and unfiltered, and the warmth had a sort of intensity that was rather delicious against your collarbone and calves.

You were outside. Animals and insects chirped and buzzed. The wind whistled through branches that were dotted with the buds of early spring. There was the faintest smell of flowers, though you couldn't tell what kind.

You were in a hammock made of some dingy grey webbing in what appeared to be an ancient, forgotten bower. You smiled fondly. How kind of your husband to see to you like this. What sort of surprise outing had he planned? Even though he was so much older than you, he took such good care of you, just like your own father had. You wondered where he was...

You gently sat up, laughing at how the hammock shook. The smile and laughter died on your lips when you saw the man who was sitting under the tree. It was Sir Shouta, a man who made you feel very different things than what you felt for your kindly, kingly husband. The two of you locked eyes for a moment before you looked away.

Your eyes darted back to the hammock and you shook your head, as though that would clear your head and help your grasp your situation. Your brain started to fit the pieces together. The hammock--it was *the scarf* that was usually looped around his neck.

You looked back up and Sir Shouta now had his eyes cast down.

"Please," he said to you in his deep voice. "At your feet, my lady. Please."

You realized one of your simple robes was crumpled at the foot of the hammock. As your body struggled to put it on as quickly as possible, your mind struggled to try and remember how you had gotten here. To your horror, all you could remember were unconnected scenes and sounds: swords clashing, screams of panic, your husband weighed down by his armor, but still issuing battle cries.

Your breathing got shakier.

With tremulous voice, you tried to be polite and courtly, as you asked, "Sir Shouta, g-good morning. What's happened?"

"May I approach, Your Highness?"

"Of course." You tightened your robe around you.

He knelt--he was so tall, after all--next to your hammock. You wondered how he wasn't sweating under all his black leather. His face was calm, unmarred save for the crescent scar under his eye, but his eyes betrayed his worry.

"As a precaution, Your Highness, the King instructed me to take you into the woods to keep you safe while he and my companions deal with the traitors who attacked the castle."

He stopped and swallowed as though he feared your reaction to what was to come.

"You were given a sleeping draught, which is why you may not remember everything. Please forgive me, Your Highness, in the heat of the battle it did not occur to any of us that doing so would leave you unable to dress yourself for bed. I-I am sorry, Your Highness. I swear to you on my honor as a knight, I took no liberties."

Heat rushed to your cheeks, and not because of the sun, and your lips almost curved upward before you schooled them into neutrality. Sir Shouta had stripped you down to your chemise! You could not stop your eyes from looking at his big, strong hands. More than once, you had watched how those hands grasped the sword at his waist, treating the hilt with both firm command and great sensitivity, and it made you feel lightheaded to think that he might have grasped you in the same way too. Had he cradled you against his chest as he tended you? Had his dark hair grazed your skin? Why were you cursed not to remember?

You focused on his face again and realized he was still waiting for you to respond, waiting for you to confirm you weren't angry with him. Gently, you touched one of his vambraces and said, "We do what necessity dictates, Sir Shouta."

"You are gracious, Your Highness," he replied. You thought you saw the faintest bit of color in his cheeks, but then it was gone and you realized your mind was playing tricks on you.

"I will be back very soon," said Shouta. "I must get you something to eat and drink."

#aizawa x reader #bnha aizawa #mha aizawa #aizawa x you #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n

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thedirtybeanlife · 1 year

Text

Fixer Upper

Simon Riley x Reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: readers callsign is olive, cursing, blood, bullet wounds, brief mention of tortured children, mention of bad childhood

somewhat fluffy towards the end <3

Bullets whizzed past my head as I ran through the street. Fire was spreading like crazy and there had to be at least a hundred innocent civilians running for their lives. I crouched behind the bed of a truck, reloading my M16 and catching my breath. I looked down at my thigh, huffing as I saw how badly I was bleeding. One of the soldiers shot me in the thigh before I got the chance to shoot him. The blood had soaked through my pants, the camouflage fabric now a dark red.

Deciding to chance it and push my way through, I collected myself and emerged from behind the bed of the truck, rifle aimed and ready to fire. Immediately bullets started flying in my direction causing me to duck and fire at the four men standing behind the barricades. It took a few minutes and two clips of ammo to gun them down, as well as the suicide bomber who had run out of a nearby building. After leading some stray civilians to the nearest medic, I started finding my way to Ghost and Soap.

"Soap, Olive, sit-rep." Ghost's voice came through the comm in my ear.

"Alive and out of ammo." Soap's accent filled my ears.

"Olive? How copy?"

"On my way to you now Lt. Loosing a lot of blood though. Fucker shot me." I let out, my voice strained as I put pressure on my wound, pain flairing through my body.

"Can you make it?" the usually stoic man's voice sounded concerned.

“Yeah, yeah I can make it. Just- just need a minute or two..” I droned off, the sudden need to pass out flooding my brain.

"Doesn't sound like it. I'm on my way to your location now. Stay put." Soap cut in, his breath labored.

"Soap, with all due respect, I think I can make it without any more casualties." There was no way I was going to let Soap risk his life just because I had a little bullet wound.

"Stay there, Y/N." Ghost's voice cut in, a certain edge behind it that made my stubbornness dissipate.

"Yes, Sir." and with that I leaned back against the brick wall behind me and lowered my gun, lifting my leg from the ground to relieve some of the pain.

Slowly my vision started to get blurry, and I had to start manually breathing to keep my kind occupied until Soap got to me. I decided on sitting on the ground to see if that would help. The second I sat down, three men rounded the corner, large assault rifles in hand.

"That little bitch is around here somewhere." one of them whispered rather loudly.

"We should have some fun with her before we turn her into boss. You never see such young ones out here." another one spoke, his voice much more malicious.

"Like hell, ya’ dirty bastards." Soap's voice was heard, followed by three suppressed gunshots.

Each man fell to the floor, looks of surprise permanently etched on their faces. I let out a sigh of relief as Soap crouched down in front of me, quickly moving to check out my thigh and other wounds.

"Thank you." I gave him a weak smile, keeping my eyes open becoming nearly impossible.

"Don't you dare die on me, Olive. Let's get you out of here, yeah?" he moved to my side and wrapped my arm around his shoulder, pulling us up until we were standing.

I had to put pretty much all of my weight against him in order to stop the blinding white pain I experienced with every step. Thankfully we had already managed to take down most of the enemy, only a few stranglers that Soap picked off with his pistol. That made getting to Ghost at the rendezvous point much easier in my current condition. It took about ten minutes until we made it to the small cabin hidden in the middle of the woods. It looked weirdly intact and taken care of, but I didn't bother paying much mind to it. I needed to stop moving before I passed out.

"Alright, L/N. Just a few more steps, you can do it. l know you can." it sounded like he was trying to reassure himself more than anything, but I nodded along anyway and did my best to stay conscious.

The door slamming open startled me, making me grab my gun and aim it in front of me only to see Ghost standing in the door frame. He ushered us in with haste, eyeing me the entire time. He had soap sit me at the small wooden kitchen table while he left the room. He returned a moment later with a bag of what seemed like medical equipment, which would make sense. He kneeled down in front of me, placing the bag on the chair beside him. He ruffled through it for a moment before pulling out what he needed to stitch up my thigh.

"I'm gonna need you to pull your pants down, L/N."

"At least buy me a drink first, Lt." I joked, my words slurring together.

"Y/N, stop fucking around. Take them off before I cut them off." his voice was stern and his eyes were hard as he glared down at me.

With an eye roll, I lifted my hips and pulled down my cargo pants until the waistband was a few inches below my injury, my spandex the only thing covering me. Seemingly satisfied with my cooperation, Ghost pulled up the leg of my spandex before he started opening a bottle of rubbing alcohol which made me try and back away from him.

"Fuck that. Absolutely not. I'll just die." I started panicking, my already ragged breath getting worse.

"L/N, I need you to calm down. It's just a little bit'a alcohol. It only hurts for a few seconds, promise."

"I said no, asshole." I glared down at him as I still tried to get out of the chair and get to the door.

"MacTavish, hold her down."

"Lt. Isn't that a li-"

"Johnny!"

"Yes, Sir!" Soap was quick to stand behind me and hold my shoulders against the back of the chair.

"No! Get off! Soap get the FUCK off of me before I fucking kill you damn it! Let me go!" tears were streaming down my face as I thrashed around and screamed.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" Ghost asked, a hint of both humor and sympathy mixed in his voice.

I looked down to see my thigh now mostly cleaned off and Ghost's glove covered hand resting right under the wound, his thumb gently caressing my thigh to calm me down.

"What? Oh." He had already cleaned up my leg, the bottle of torture sitting next to us on the table, a bloody bundle of gauze sitting next to it.

Soap busted out laughing, nearly falling to the ground from my response. It took him a few seconds but once he had calmed down he wiped away a few tears and looked down at me.

"You are quite the character, Olive."

"Shut the fuck up John. I'm very serious about killing you right now." I gave him my best glare which quickly shut him up.

"Am I allowed to stitch you up? Or am I going to have to make Johnny hold you down again?" Ghost teased as he prepped the needle.

"Shut up and just do it, please." i was really starting to feel the drowsiness due to my outburst, and Ghost definitely noticed.

What felt like an eternity later, which was really only twenty minutes passed and Ghost was done. My leg was still incredibly sore and I felt like shit. Soap had gone outside for a smoke after I threatened to castrate him for making bad jokes. Ghost was packing up all of the medical equipment he seemingly pulled out of nowhere. He had taken off his vest and ghost mask halfway into stitching me up. He was in his black t shirt and painted balaclava, his sleeve tattoo on display. I wasn't ashamed to admit he was attractive, even if I had never seen his face. I was always intrigued by the large male, and his behavior towards me today has only intensified that feeling.

"How did you know this place was here? It's so hidden I can't imagine you just managed to find it in the short span of time we've been here."

"It's my home." he said blankly, getting up and leaving the room again. He was gone for a few minutes before silently coming back down and sitting at the other end of the table, going through files that had been sitting there.

"You- you have a house?"

"You don't?" he asked, his eyes meeting mine for the first time since he tended to my wound.

"Of course I have my own place. I just didn't peg you as someone who would have such good interior design skills." I teased, laying my head in the table and lolling it to the side as I looked at him.

"Shut it and go get some rest. Upstairs. First door on the left."

"I'm fine." I mumbled, giving him a small smile.

"Don't care. We need you out there, and you aren't much help tired and injured. Now, go rest up. That's an order."

"Ghost, I'm literally fine. We're all tired. That's sort of in the job description."

He let out a heavy sigh and looked back down at the files. Silence took over for a moment before he stood up and walked over to me. Without warning, he picked me up, careful not to hurt my leg.

"Woah, what are you doing?" he was being uncharacteristically caring today and I didn't understand.

It was honestly a little scary.

"Taking you to bed since you're too stubborn to go yourself." he started walking up the stairs.

His grip was firm, yet gentle, warm hands resting on my thigh and arm. It felt safe. He opened the door to a bedroom, presumably his by the looks of it. For the most part it was pretty empty, only a few rock band posters and a shelf with fake plants on the wall. There was a dresser and a queen size bed, four pillows resting neatly against the headboard. There was a full length mirror on the wall beside the door, a picture of TF141 shoved in between the glass and dark wooden frame. It was the one of Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Price, and I. Price stood next to Gaz, his arm wrapped around his shoulder. Soap stood in the middle of them and Ghost, a cup of coffee in hand, no shoes on. Ghost stood next to him, fully clad in his gear, looking to his left. He was about to board a helo for his mission, but we forced him into our picture. Then there was me. I was on Soap’s back, poking Ghost in the cloth covered cheek trying to get him to look at the camera.

That's sweet. He does have a heart.

I was gently placed on the bed after he had pulled back the dark grey duvet. He looked me over one more time as if he was trying to make sure he didn't miss any injuries.

“Rest up, Soldier.” and with that he had turned the light off and started walking out of the doorway.

“Ghost. Wait.” my voice was barely audible, shaky too.

He stopped in the doorway, staring ahead for a moment before turning to look at me, eyes silently meeting mine, hand resting on the wooden door frame.

“Um… thank you. For patching me up, and the bed. I appreciate it, Lt.”

He gave me a small nod, awkwardly shifting his weight on his feet. His fingers had a tight grip on the door frame still, the tips of them turning a pale white from the force. It was like he wanted to say something, his eyes darting between my face and my bandaged thigh. Under his gaze I felt small and vulnerable, and weirdly enough, that didn't scare me. It felt more comforting than anything. Opening my mouth to speak, I was cut off by Ghost mumbling something, the words just barely leaving his lips.

“What was that?” I asked, a small, confused and amused smirk on my face at my lieutenants odd, anxious behavior.

“You could have died out there, Y/N.” he was looking at his feet now, shoulders tensed.

“I’m sorry. Truly, I am. But, watching those men torture those children made my blood boil. I used to be a daycare teacher, when I was a teen, and watching the way those poor children were screaming for their parents to help them as those soldiers carved into their skin was enough to set me over the edge. They're supposed to protect them, not torture them in front of their tied up parents, Ghost. I couldn't just sit there and let that happen.” my voice was cold and defensive as I spoke, staring up at him.

His eyes softened and he took a few slow steps closer to me, his hands moving to rest in the front pockets of his jeans, “You were a daycare teacher? With that mouth on you?” the first question was genuine, the second was used to help ease my anger.

“Yeah, I was. I did it for five years and loved it. It felt nice getting to give kids the affection I never knew as a kid, ya know?” I gave him a small smile.

“Shit parents?” he asked with a knowing tone.

“Very shit. I take it you did too?” I asked, adjusting myself, wincing slightly as I moved my leg.

Ghost’s eyes stayed on my injury as I shifted my body, his hand moving towards mine before immediately retracting,”There were moments I questioned my Father’s parenting, but my Mom was my favorite person in the world.”

“I think that’s the most you've ever opened up to me, Ghosty. We can be trauma buddies.” I giglgled, holding out my pinky to him.

He rolled his eyes, but nonetheless hooked his pinky with mine,”Try and rest, Y/N. Long day tomorrow.” he stood up once again, but this time my hand grabbing his large one stopped him in his tracks.

His shoulders tensed at the sudden feeling, eyes going wide for a few seconds. He turned around and looked down at our hands before looking over at me, head tilted ever so slightly in confusion.

“You can stay in here tonight,” I rushed out quietly, nervous under his gaze as he towered over me, ”If you want to of course! Don’t feel pressured or anything. It’s just that it’s your house and your bed so I figured it'd be fair to also let you sleep in it too, so you don't have to be uncomfortable on the couch all night or so-” I stopped my nervous rambling when I felt him squeeze my hand and he let out a laugh.

A genuine laugh that rarely ever left his lips. It took me by surprise, having never heard the sound be directed at me before. I wasn’t exactly sure why he was laughing but I didn’t care. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard. Deep and warm, something that could only be explained as a warm summer night. His hand squeezed mine gently before he stood up and walked to the other side of the bed, sitting and kicking his boots off.

“You're adorable when you’re nervous, Love.” I could tell he was smiling by the tone of his voice.

“Shut up.” I huffed in fake annoyance, turning my head to look at him, his body now sat facing the same way i was, his eyes raking over my face for any sign of discomfort with our proximity.

“You know you owe Johnny $50 now, right?”

“Are you implying what I think you are? Wait! You knew about the bet!” I shot up from leaning against the headboard, ignoring the pain in my leg as I flushed with embarrassment.

About a year ago, Soap and I had made a bet. He said that Ghost was absolutely head over heels while I was in complete denial about it.

“You two are the loudest people I have ever met. And, yes. I am implying what you think I’m implying.” he whispered the last part, avoiding my gaze, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“Simon. Look at me, please?” my voice was gentle as I turned my entire body to face him, letting my leg stretch out to the side.

His shoulders moved as he took in a large breath and slowly turned his head to look into my eyes, anxiety and fear swirling in his brown eyes. If he wasn't such a large man, I would think I was looking into the eyes of a scared little boy. I smiled up at him, carefully scooting closer until I was close enough to lean my head on his shoulder. He stiffened immediately, not relaxing until I reached over and gently placed my hand over his.

“I don't know how to do this. Relationships. Never been in one or wanted one until you. I don't want to hurt you…” his voice trailed off at the end, hand squeezing mine ever so softly.

“So we take it one step at a time. I promise you will never hurt me, Simon. I may not know everything you’ve been through, but I promise you I will help you through anything you need.”

Immediately after I finished my sentence, Simon’s lips were on mine, kissing me with an intense passion I'd never experienced before. His hands cupped my face while mine rested on his chest. No longer able to hold our breath, we pulled away, staring into each others eyes.

“It’s probably too soon to be saying this, but I think I’m in love with you.” I whispered breathlessly.

He placed another kiss to my lips, pulling away to look into my eyes once more, “I’ve been in love with you since day one.” his voice was quiet and gravely.

I smiled at him coyly, curling into his chest and wrapping my arms around his torso as I giggled softly. His arms wrapped around me, carefully pulling me to lay down with him. The rest of the night was spent whispering sweet nothings to each other and placing small kisses along each others jawline.

It couldn't get much better than this.

#xreader #fanfiction #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #mw2022 #call of duty mw2 #call of duty #cod modern warfare

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inairbinad · 10 months

Text

Steve's Got a Date with a Vampire! (3)

part three of seven | Explicit (eventually, but not yet) Part one | Part two | Read on AO3

warnings: blood drinking, and I'm gonna err on the side of caution and say this one is very mildly nsfw under the cut

About a week after the popsicle incident, and just as much time spent absent of any matchmaking plots, Steve was starting to wonder if maybe Dustin had dropped whatever scheming he had in mind in favor of spending his summer on something more fun.

That was why when Dustin invited him over for dinner with Claudia one night, Steve didn’t hesitate to accept. He was getting bored of making sad little dinners for himself most nights, since Robin was busier than usual studying for finals and had better things to do than to keep him company while his parents were out of town.

“Oh hello, Steve,” Claudia greeted him with a hug when he rang the bell. “You’re right on time, dinner’s almost ready.”

“Smells wonderful,” Steve complimented, nearly ready to float away on the scent of whatever she was making. She led him back to Dustin’s room with a warm smile.

“Dusty! Steve’s here!” Claudia called through the half-open door before moving back towards the kitchen. “I’ll call you boys when it’s ready.”

Steve heard Dustin talking to someone in his room, probably Suzie, so he gave a soft knock before peeking his head in. Dustin was set up at his desk, using Cerebro as usual, but it quickly became clear that Suzie wasn’t on the other end.

“Thank you, sir,” Dustin was saying in a surprisingly formal and respectful tone. “I appreciate all your help.” Then he dropped the handheld radio to his desk and stretched like he was completely satisfied with how that conversation went.

“Who the fuck do you call sir?” Steve said, lowering his voice so Claudia wouldn’t hear him swearing. Dustin swiveled around in his desk chair to face Steve and beamed at him.

“People I respect,” Dustin quipped. Steve didn’t miss the insulting implication in that, but he ignored it. He raised his eyebrows at Dustin in question, imparting that he wanted a real answer. “That was just a mentor of mine. He’s helping me with a little project.”

“This close to school getting out?” Steve asked, completely distrustful of whatever Dustin was up to now.

“It’s not for school,” Dustin shrugged. “It’s extra-curricular.”

Dustin refused to talk about it more all throughout dinner.

———

Steve hadn’t seen Eddie very much since that day at the pool, and the few times he did, Eddie was decidedly more distant than usual. Steve was becoming more and more convinced that Robin and Dustin were wrong, that Eddie was just trying to rile Steve up for fun, and now he’d grown bored of it. That was all fine enough. It left Steve time to lick his wounds in peace and get back into his old routine of endlessly dating with no real prospect of finding someone to love him anytime soon.

Steve tried to shake the morose idea loose from his brain. When his thoughts turned this morbid, it was usually a sign it was time for him to get out of his house. But that wasn’t an option tonight, because he was having people over. Again.

The kids had talked Steve into hosting the “freshman-friendly” version of everyone else’s graduation party, which basically just meant letting them drink one beer each under direct supervision. They were especially excited about the whole thing now that Jonathan and Argyle were back from California with their own shiny new diplomas as well.

Steve, proud of all of his friends, went all out with decorations. There were streamers and banners everywhere, and he probably spent too much of that week’s paycheck on a giant cake for everyone to share. (Though he saved a little by opting to have it simply iced to say “Congrats, Grads!” rather than expecting the bakery to spell Eddie, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle’s names correctly.)

At least having all of his friends crowded into his house at once had a similar quieting effect on Steve’s thoughts to if he’d actually left the place. Absolutely nothing else about it was quiet, though. Robin and Nancy had taken over DJ duties with Max and El assisting, and that led to pushing Steve’s stereo system to its limits. That, in turn, seemed to be the only excuse the boys needed to talk as loudly as they could over the sound of the music, with Eddie trying to referee whatever nerdy bickering was happening on this particular occasion.

That usually left Steve hanging out with Argyle and Jonathan, unless Robin bothered to tear herself away from Nancy for longer than thirty seconds at a time. (Steve was determined not to let himself be jealous of their budding friendship. It absolutely did not mean that Robin was abandoning him. He would not let himself spiral into those thoughts again.) It was actually nice, when Steve stopped thinking long enough to enjoy himself. He even thought he and Jonathan might finally be approaching something like actually being friends.

The rest of Hellfire came, too—Gareth, and Jeff, and a third whose name Steve couldn’t remember. Dustin, who was assigned door-answering duty, greeted everyone excitedly and waved Steve into the living room to introduce them. Taking in the collective body language, the Hellfire boys seemed slightly uncomfortable to be in Steve’s house at all, let alone for him to be coming over to greet them. So he grabbed them them all drinks on his way, and tried to open with some self-deprecating humor.

“Gotta imagine whoever lives with that on display in their house is a complete freak show, right?” He handed over their drinks, then nodded at his mother’s collection of porcelain figurines of children doing random shit like yodeling or herding sheep.

Jeff snorted behind a sip of his beer, and the third one managed an appreciative smile. Gareth, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Well, we wouldn’t want to break any valuables,” he said, tone slightly challenging. Dustin’s eyes shifted between them nervously, like he was ready to intervene on Steve’s behalf. Steve wasn’t sure he needed it, though. He picked up one of the figurines he knew his mother hated yet refused to throw out anyway. He briefly examined it, twisting it between his fingers.

“Eh,” Steve shrugged, then tossed the figurine over his shoulder. He heard it crack when it hit the floor, didn’t bother to look back. It was strangely satisfying to hear, like he wanted to toss another. Steve reeled in the impulse, though. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

That earned an impressed “cool” out of Dustin, and Gareth actually cracked a small, surprised smile. Steve felt like he’d passed some sort of test, even if he had a lot farther to go.

“I’m Steve,” he said, holding out his hand towards Gareth first.

“Right!” Dustin said, scrambling to correct himself. Steve was never all that concerned with Dustin’s manners, if he was being honest. He knew to temper his expectations. “This is Gareth, Jeff, and Vince.”

They all nodded and shook Steve’s hand, then thanked him for the drinks. The conversation didn’t get much further before Eddie inserted himself into it.

“Are you breaking your own shit, Stevie?” Eddie asked, then happily slung an arm around Steve’s shoulder. It was certainly more friendly territory than they’d been in for weeks.

“I suppose I am,” Steve smiled, let himself lean into the weight of Eddie’s arm around him for a moment. “Care to join?”

“Of course not,” Eddie scoffed. “Just because I’m an undead creature doesn’t mean I’m an animal.”

Steve wasn’t sure why, but he was surprised that Gareth, Jeff, and Vince knew about the vampire thing. But then again, they were some of Eddie’s best friends, whereas Steve definitely was not, and he knew. He shrugged the revelation off and tried to keep in the flow of conversation. It was made slightly more difficult by the fact that Eddie kept his arm firmly planted around Steve’s shoulders, to the point where his hand rested just against Steve’s clavicle.

It was distracting to say the least.

———

An hour later, the kids had all had their “first” taste of beer (so they claimed, anyway) and Dustin had already snorted some up through his nose to the hilarity of all. He disappeared upstairs for a few minutes before he came darting back down the steps in a huff.

“Steve,” Dustin was out of breath and wide-eyed, which quickly put Steve on high alert. He set his drink on the counter and stood up straighter. “Eddie, I need you.”

Steve and Eddie exchanged a nervous glance, but Steve relaxed a fraction once he was pretty sure this wasn’t Upside Down related, at least.

“Both of us?” Eddie said, voice clearly skeptical.

“Yes, Eddie,” Dustin scoffed. “I need your vampire vision and it’s Steve’s house, so come on.”

Suddenly terrified to find out what the hell Dustin had done to ‘his house’, Steve sprung into action and followed him up the stairs with Eddie on his heels.

Steve was confused when Dustin led them to the linen closet and stopped.

“Henderson, what the fuc—“ he started.

“I lost my nasal spray in here,” Dustin cut him off. “And I can’t find the light switch, and I need Eddie’s eyes to help me.”

All of Dustin’s words made sense individually to Steve, but when he strung them together that way in a sentence he felt like his brain was melting.

“What?” Steve asked, incredulously looking to Eddie to see if he knew how this was a real problem. Eddie just shrugged at him. “Why were you trying to use your nasal spray in the linen closet?”

“I was looking for a washcloth,” Dustin explained, like that made perfect sense. Steve just stared at him, so Dustin blew out a dramatic sigh. “I had a bad reaction to the carbonation in the beer! You know I have sensitive sinuses! So I came up here to try and stop sneezing by washing my face, then using my nasal spray.” Dustin flattened his palms together and explained it slowly to Steve, like he was a five year old.

“Well,” Steve said, pinching the bridge of his own nose, “Maybe you should try to avoid snorting beer through your nose next time, and this won’t be a problem.”

Eddie, who was already getting on his hands and knees to look around on the floor of the closet, chuckled to himself. Steve got caught up in the sight of him for a fraction of a second longer than was strictly necessary.

“Who the fuck has a walk-in linen closet?” Eddie asked over his shoulder, snapping Steve out of his trance.

“Steve does,” Dustin said, matter-of-fact.

Steve couldn’t help but be a little embarrassed. Normally he would have expected a ribbing over his room, or his mom’s knick knacks, or even the fact that it was a five bedroom house that usually only had one person living in it. But the closets? Steve didn’t know he needed to be prepared for those being mocked.

“I may have super sight, but a little light would still be helpful,” Eddie said next, sticking his head under a shelf. He seemed completely unembarrassed to do whatever he could to help Dustin, though, which only made Steve want him more.

“Right,” Steve said, stepping fully into the closet to flip the switch. Nothing happened when he did, though.

“Shit,” Steve grumbled. “The bulb must be out.”

“I’ll go get a flashlight!” Dustin exclaimed, sounding entirely too eager about it. Steve turned to ask what the hell his deal was, but Dustin was too quick for him. Before Steve even had his mouth open, the door slammed shut and plunged Steve and Eddie into complete darkness.

“I said more light, not less!” Eddie grumbled.

“Why would he close the door…” Steve asked, mostly to himself, and reached for the knob to open it again. It jiggled uselessly, and the door didn’t budge.

It dawned on Steve all at once that he’d let his guard down at the absolute worst moment.

Fucking nasal spray. He couldn’t believe he’d fallen for that shit. He knew that story had been complete nonsense, but his distraction at Eddie crawling around on his hands and knees and Steve’s natural reflex to give in to whatever Dustin wanted clouded his judgment. Again. “That little fucker.”

“What?” Eddie asked, not catching on to their predicament just yet. It sounded like he was still on the floor, too busy taking Dustin at his goddamn word.

“You can stop looking for nasal spray,” Steve informed him. “He locked us in.”

Eddie went completely silent, so Steve could only guess at his reaction to Dustin’s little stunt. All of a sudden, Steve felt Eddie shove halfway past him, stopping while they were still chest to chest in the narrow space. Then Steve heard the slap of Eddie’s palm against the closet door.

“Henderson!” Eddie yelled. “You locked us in!”

“No shit,” Dustin replied from the other side.

“Very funny, Dustin,” Steve tried, hoping the end of this prank was near. Eddie was standing very close to him, to the point where their he could feel each breath Eddie took in. Distantly, Steve wondered if Eddie really needed to breathe still, or if it was just out of habit. “Now let us out.”

“Not until you agree to get along!” Dustin called through the door. The emphasis he put on the words get along implied very heavily that he wanted much more from Steve and Eddie than just that.

“We do get along!” Steve argued anyway, knowing it would be of no use. He knew what Dustin really wanted to happen in here.

Eddie snorted from somewhere near his left ear, and Steve tensed in confusion.

“What? We do,” Steve said, less sure of himself now.

“Do we?” Eddie asked, as he moved out of Steve’s space and deeper into the closet again. As his eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, Steve thought he saw the outline of Eddie’s arm crook at the elbow, like he had his hand on his hip.

“I thought so,” Steve muttered, feeling entirely put out now. If Eddie didn’t even like him as a friend, he was more pathetic than he thought. He deflected his misery in favor of saving it for later, focused on the problem at hand. “Come on, Dustin. It’s dark as shit in here.”

There was no response.

“Afraid to sit in the dark with lil ol’ me?” Eddie teased, though there wasn’t much humor in his voice. Steve didn’t know where the hell this was coming from, but he thought maybe they could at least use this predicament to hash it out. Even if it wasn’t quite the outcome that Dustin hoped for—or Steve, if he was being honest—maybe Steve could at least make Eddie believe that he didn’t hate him.

“This again?” Steve asked, incredulous. “How many times do I have to tell you I’m not afraid of you?”

“I guess enough times for me to actually believe it’s not bullshit,” Eddie said easily.

Steve recoiled, unsure what he could ever do to convince the people he cared about of his sincerity. Maybe he’d just ruined his benefit of the doubt a long time ago, and he was destined never to get it back. At least, not with the people who had ever known him as King Steve.

“It’s not bullshit,” Steve murmured, not sure why he was even bothering at this point. He leaned back against the door and let himself sink to the floor.

“You tense up if I even touch you,” Eddie said, but his voice had softened into something less challenging and more uncertain. Steve wanted to reach out and soothe it away. “That’s kind of hard not to take personally when you’ve recently developed the ability to kill people with ease.”

Steve was entirely unprepared to admit exactly why he tensed up around Eddie, so he thought up an excuse. “That’s not because you’re a vampire, though. I’m just not as touchy a person as you are. It takes some adjusting.”

“Please, you and Robin are constantly hanging on each other,” Eddie scoffed.

“Yeah, well,” Steve shrugged, knowing Eddie had a point since he was lying through his teeth, and all. “Robin’s my best friend. That took time, too.”

Eddie sighed, and Steve hoped that was a sign that he’d let it go. Eddie stalked towards him again, then stood hovering above Steve as he banged on the door and yelled for someone’s attention.

“Help! We’re trapped in the closet!” Eddie yelled, and Steve couldn’t contain his snort. “Oh very funny, Harrington. It’s the perfect time for gay jokes.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve chuckled, trying not to let his laughter spiral out of control. “Really. I just had to appreciate the irony. Since, you know, it’s us.”

Eddie was quiet for a beat before whispering, “Us?”

And oh shit, Steve thought. Did Eddie not realize that Steve knew about him being into guys as well? Or did Eddie not know about Steve? He thought it was pretty obvious, honestly, considering how well all of Eddie’s flirting had destroyed Steve’s ability to function.

“Well…yeah?” Steve asked more than confirmed. Even though he could barely make out the scope of Eddie’s face, Steve felt Eddie’s eyes on him.

“Say more words, Harrington,” Eddie said, slowly. Steve wished he could go back to being Stevie. He scratched at the inside of his wrist.

“I’m bisexual too?” Steve tried.

“Is that a question or a statement?” Eddie said. Steve couldn’t help but notice that Eddie’s voice sounded a little…strangled.

“A statement,” Steve said, gaining some confidence back. Maybe this would be what proved to Eddie that Steve trusted him. “I thought you knew.”

Eddie laughed, and Steve decided that sound was definitely strangled. It buoyed his fragile heart a smidge further.

“I definitely did not know that,” Eddie said. Then he blew out a long breath and dropped to the floor beside Steve, sitting close enough that their shoulders touched. “I guess your closet joke was funny, then. Since it wasn’t only at my expense.”

“Well of course it was funny,” Steve joked, knocking his shoulder into Eddie’s.

“Cocky as ever,” Eddie said, but he laughed as he did. “I guess we’re stuck in here.”

“I’m pretty sure he turned up the volume down there just to be extra sure no one would hear us,” Steve agreed.

“Dipshit,” Eddie sighed. Steve hummed his agreement this time, and they sat in companionable silence for a while. Steve was surprised to find it was comfortable, rather than making him want to crawl out of his skin to fill the space with words. “I’m sorry, by the way.”

“For what?” Steve asked, startled to even hear it.

“For accusing you of being afraid of me,” Eddie said. “That wasn’t fair. I’m just being insecure and, well. In my defense? I’m just cranky because I’m hungry.”

“Didn’t you eat today?” Steve asked, all at once feeling like a bad host for not having some extra rare steak or something for Eddie to snack on at his own graduation party.

“Nope,” Eddie answered like he found Steve’s suggestion funny. “I’ve been trying to space out time between…feedings, I guess. It’s getting harder to rob the blood bank consistently, plus I feel like an asshole doing it.”

“Well,” Steve said, realizing how that might pose an ethical conundrum. It was surely preferable to Eddie running around eating people, though, even though Steve knew he would never. “It’s kind of the best option out of a lot of bad ones, isn’t it?”

“I guess so,” Eddie relented with an entirely humorless laugh. “The good news is I can make it five or six days in between without even feeling it. Ten days or two weeks, though…”

“Two weeks?” Steve cut in, not keeping the shock out of his voice. “You haven’t eaten in two weeks?”

“No?” Eddie said sheepishly.

“Is that a question or a statement?” Steve said, quickly parrying with Eddie’s own words. Eddie gave an appreciative laugh this time in response—tiny, but there.

“A statement,” Eddie confirmed. “Not since your little pool shindig, actually.”

Visions of Eddie sucking down a blood red popsicle swam through Steve’s mind for probably the trillionth time since it happened.

“Jesus,” Steve breathed, both in reaction to Eddie’s admission and to his constant inability to keep that image out of his mind. “I’d be a lot more than cranky.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie thunked his head against the closet door behind them. “I’ll go home and dip into my depleting stash a little.”

“Well…” Steve said, hardly in control of his own mouth at this point. “I have blood.”

“Here?” Eddie asked, missing the point. Steve held in an embarrassed and frustrated scream. “Why?”

“Because I hear it keeps me alive,” Steve quipped, and that seemed to be when Eddie fully registered what Steve was offering, because he went stock-still and deathly quiet.

“I can’t do that, Stevie,” Eddie finally breathed out, and Steve reveled in hearing the nickname come out of his mouth again. “I can’t hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Steve said, completely convinced of it. If Eddie was so hungry he’d lose control of himself, Steve thought he probably would’ve been dead five minutes ago. “Come on. Call it a trust exercise.”

Steve felt Eddie’s eyes on him again—assessing, probably. He didn’t know why he was pushing for this, exactly, only that he was suddenly entirely convinced that it was exactly what he needed to do. What he wanted to do. So he held his wrist out in front of Eddie in silent offering.

“Are you sure?” Eddie asked, voice cracked and desperate. Hungry.

“As I’ve ever been,” Steve said without a trace of doubt.

Steve watched the faint outline of Eddie’s pale fingers slowly reach upward, before delicately wrapping around his wrist. The cold of Eddie’s skin felt scorching against Steve’s own, hot and alive and jumping at the contact. At an agonizingly slow pace, Eddie drew Steve’s wrist in towards his mouth, like he hadn’t quite decided on a course of action yet.

This was stupid. Steve knew this was stupid. Eddie was over-hungry, Steve was trapped in here with him, and no one would hear him calling for help if he needed it. Logically, Steve realized all of that. But something else, large and lodged somewhere beneath his ribcage—and yes, stupid—didn’t care about any of that. It only cared about making Eddie see that Steve trusted him, wasn’t afraid of him in the slightest. It wanted to give Eddie everything he ever needed.

It wanted Eddie’s mouth on him.

“You won’t hurt me,” Steve assured him, and for the first time he was able to see Eddie’s eyes flick to his own. “I know you won’t.”

If he had blinked, he would have missed Eddie making the decision and sinking his teeth into the flesh of Steve’s wrist.

Steve was incredibly glad he hadn’t blinked. He was mesmerized by the way the little sliver of light that crept in under the closet door glinted off of Eddie’s teeth in a flash, the way they felt as his skin opened up at their prodding. Steve barely registered the pain of it beyond the little thrill it gave him to feel it at all.

Steve wished he could see Eddie’s face more clearly, watch his throat work as he drank. The darkness forced him to lean into the feel of it instead, so he dropped his head back against the door and did just that—from the flat of Eddie’s tongue against the thin skin of his wrist, to the way Eddie’s grip on his arm stayed gentle as ever, despite the roughness of what Steve was letting him do. The more Eddie drank, the more his skin warmed, and Steve couldn’t help but preen a little at knowing he’d done that.

But what Steve loved most was the heady, floaty feeling he got from it, despite the fact that he knew that probably meant it was almost time for Eddie to stop.

Eddie seemed to sense that all on his own, because in the next ragged breath Steve sucked in through his nose, Eddie pulled away. He lapped up any stray drops of blood, first from Steve’s wrist, then from his own chin. Steve had to work to contain a moan.

“Fuck,” Eddie sucked in a deep breath, and Steve wished he had a better view of his blood staining Eddie’s lips. “That is so much better than out of a bag.”

All Steve could think about was how much he wanted Eddie to bite his neck, next. He was pretty sure his brain was short-circuiting, but he knew he’d have to spit out some words soon—if only to keep Eddie from freaking out and thinking he’d done something wrong.

“Happy to be of service,” Steve managed, leaning into the hollow thrum of pain coming from his wrist to help tie his thoughts to something concrete. Doing that much made him very aware of how else his body was reacting to this situation, though, and Steve was suddenly intensely grateful for how dark the closet still was.

At least, that was, until it occurred to him that Eddie could still see better than he could. Steve dragged a knee up to his chest to hopefully conceal where all the blood Eddie hadn’t already drunk was pooling between his legs. Steve wondered if Eddie could hear his heart pounding in his chest, or if he could smell the light sweat painted over Steve’s skin—if he’d tasted the excitement bubbling in his veins.

Steve took a deep breath and did his best to will his adrenaline to recede, and hoped whatever arousal Eddie could pick up off of him in that moment would be interpreted as pure nerves from being fed on, instead of being the product of wanting to taste his own blood on Eddie’s tongue.

Trying to be polite, Steve reached over and grabbed a towel for Eddie to wipe his mouth with, then offered it to him wordlessly. Eddie’s laugh in response was sincere and charming as ever, this time.

“Thanks, Stevie,” he said as he took it. “But I’m pretty sure proper decorum would call for me to take care of you instead.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve asked, floating even higher still. He thought Eddie taking care of him sounded perfect in all sorts of ways right about now. “Did you learn that in vampire school?”

“Something like that, yeah,” Eddie said around a breathy laugh. “Seriously, though. Are you okay? I didn’t go too far, did I?”

“I’m great,” Steve didn’t bother to lie. “Feels a little like getting high.”

“For me, too,” Eddie admitted in a small voice. Steve wanted to chase that line of conversation down, but Eddie squared his shoulders and moved on before he got the chance. “Thank you, really. That was…unbelievably generous.”

Steve was surprised he had enough blood left in him to flush, but he felt it creep up his neck anyway. “It’s not a big—“

“It is a big deal,” Eddie cut him off. “And to think I was being a complete dick before.”

“You weren’t,” Steve argued, and he heard Eddie’s scoff in reply. “Okay fine, but I wouldn’t say you were a complete dick. Just a little one.”

“Oh, well,” Eddie chuckled, pretended to wipe sweat from his brow. His arm brushed against Steve’s as he did. “Phew.”

They sat quietly for a while, until Steve started to feel the buzz in his muscles recede a little. He listened to the music coming from downstairs, and the faint sound of laughter that came with it. He wondered if anyone had actually noticed they were gone yet, or what they thought he and Eddie might be doing if they did. Probably not feeding in a closet, he figured.

Then, a metaphorical light bulb went off in Steve’s head.

“Oh my god,” He said as it dawned on him. “This door doesn’t even lock.”

“Huh?” Eddie asked, tilting his head in Steve’s direction until he caught up to Steve’s train of thought. “Then how come we can’t open the goddamn thi—wait. El?”

“Gotta be,” Steve nodded as they both came to the same conclusion. “They’re ganging up on us, the little shits.”

“Unbelievable. Though…I could just break the door down,” Eddie offered. “At least, I think I can. That would be an interesting test of my strength versus El’s.”

“Don’t bother,” Steve said, wincing at the idea of of how his dad would react the next time he came home only to find a door missing or smashed.

“Care about your doors more than little figurines or bloodied towels?” Eddie asked, and Steve couldn’t help but laugh.

“Not really,” he shrugged, “but my dad would. I’d never hear the end of it.”

“Your dad’s kind of a dick, isn’t he?” Eddie asked.

“You have no idea,” Steve scoffed.

“I have some,” Eddie said quietly. “Mine is, too.”

“Right. Sorry,” Steve said, feeling like an idiot. He remembered Eddie telling him about a father that taught him how to hot wire and not much else. Steve wasn’t sure if his father ever taught him anything other than how to be an asshole, if he was being honest. “To shitty dads, then.”

“To shitty dads,” Eddie agreed with a smile in his voice.

They spent another half hour talking before Robin came looking for them.

“Steven Dingus Harrington!” She called from the hallway. “I better not find anything funny happening behind this door when I come in!” Steve heard Robin open a door a few feet away, presumably to his bedroom, then say, “What the fuck? Where in the hell are you?”

“In here!” he called back. “The linen closet!”

Robin snorted in the way she always did when she was pretty close to drunk, if not there already. “Why on earth are you in there?”

“Long story,” Eddie grumbled in response. “It involves the imminent demise of Dustin Henderson.”

“Oh ho!” Robin trilled as her footsteps approached. “Munson is with you, then.”

Steve bit down on his lip to keep from saying anything he’d regret later. Instead he tried to wait patiently for Robin to free them, but when she twisted the knob, nothing happened from her end either.

“Is this broken, or something?” Robin asked.

“Nope. Apparently a certain super kid has a hilarious sense of humor,” Steve groaned. “Be a dear and go make El let us out, please?”

That was when Robin started cackling, apparently realizing exactly what the kids were up to, here.

“You got it, dumbasses,” she said. Her laughter trailed behind her all the way down the stairs again.

“How are we the dumbasses?” Eddie asked, clearly insulted. “We’re victims.”

“No argument here,” Steve said. “Any ideas on how to handle Henderson?”

“String him up by the ankles,” Eddie offered.

“Put him in a headlock,” Steve added.

“Take his lunch money.”

“Make him walk everywhere,” Steve said, finally hitting on something concrete.

“Now you’re talking,” Eddie agreed, before standing up and pulling Steve along with him.

———

Two days later, when Steve finally got around to changing the light bulb, he found that it wasn’t burnt out at all. It was loosened just enough not to click on, but stay hanging in place.

“That little fucker."

[PART FOUR]

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #vampire!eddie #steve's got a date #dani's drafts

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emmymaehereeeeee · 2 years

Note

only one bed with ep

one of my favorite tropes😭😭 also I am so sorry if this sucks :(

There was one thing you were most certain of, and it was that you hated Elvis Aaron Presley. To the public, he was the sweet and shy young man who loved to sing and dance but to you- God he was your personal hell. He was arrogant and just an overall ass, fucking cocky as hell. You would do just about anything to avoid him, but what happens when you show up at the hotel and there is only one bed?

You were lucky enough to land a summer job at Sun Records with Sam Phillips, it was not much to brag about but a couple of dollars to tuck away for college- well you would take it. The day was going relatively well until Elvis made his way into the doorway. "Well, if it isn't Y/F/N Y/L/N, my best friend in the whole wide world!" Elvis set his guitar case on the floor and walked over to the counter where you had paperwork strewn about.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed and picked up the loose papers into a haphazard pile, "What do you need, Presley?" Opening the filing cabinet and placing the papers into it you glanced up at him in acknowledgment. "Hello? What do you need?"

"Well, if you must know- I am recording my new song." He gave you a shit-eating grin.

"Elvis! How are you, sir? Y/N- can you get Mr. Presley his paperwork while I set up the studio?" Sam asked you; he flashed Elvis a warm smile.

Nodding your head, you grabbed a few documents and a pen, "Alright Presley-"

"Elvis is fine, doll." He smiled, resting his hand atop yours, you pulled your hand away.

"Y/N is fine." You muttered, "I just need you to sign this for me, it is just a form stating that you understand all of the rules blah blah." You tapped the pen against your hand. Elvis smiled and signed the documents, "Thanks." You sighed, filing the documents.

Elvis made his way back into the studio and started on his song, you lifted your head up from your paperwork and slowly made your way to the back of the studio. His voice seemed to float throughout the entire store, "My God, Elvis! Amazing!" Sam said, you could sense his excitement without even looking at him.

"Thank you, Mr. Phillips, sir, I was um wondering if we could take it to The Hayride?" Elvis asked while running a hand through his hair.

"Of course- we've got that newcomer's spot locked in once we get these records going!" Sam replied. You leaned against the doorframe to the studio booth, seemingly out of view. Elvis packed up his things and made his way out of the booth.

"See something you like?" Elvis asked, you snapped your head up and were met with Elvis's blue eyes staring down at you.

"God, you wish!" You made your way back to the front desk area.

The days passed by, and the record sales were on a constant rise, "That's Alright" was playing on every radio station and Elvis's voice seemed to haunt you wherever you went.

"Y/N, what are you doing this weekend?" Rebecca asked you with her elbows propping her up on the counter.

"Uh, nothing?" You replied in confusion, she smiled widely.

"Well, now you are! Sam and I are taking Elvis to the Louisiana Hayride and you my lovely Y/N are coming with us!" Her smile looked like it hurt, God she was so sweet- but you couldn't tell her no.

"But I-"

"No buts Y/N, you wouldn't want to break Mrs. Phillips heart, would you?" Elvis asked.

Rolling your eyes, "Of course Rebecca- I'll meet ya'll here in the morning." She flashed you a quick smile as she bid the two of you goodbye, you began to pack up your things for the night and quickly made your way out the door for the night.

Tossing and turning all night long, your brain was racked with the thoughts of Elvis and his music. For someone, you were dead set on hating for so long that you sure did think of him a whole lot. Finally, you were able to close your eyes and fall into the sweet embrace of sleep.

The morning came much faster than you wanted it to you rolled out of bed and slowly made your way into the bathroom. You gave your alarm clock a quick glance and realized you were running behind, “Shit!” you mumbled. You changed out of your pajamas and quickly made yourself presentable, “Good enough?” You questioned your outfit in the mirror before quickly grabbing your bag and heading out the door.

Stumbling into the door you breathlessly apologized to anyone who would listen, the trio all stared at you. “Alright, quit staring at me, let’s go!” You mumbled whilst shoving your bag into the trunk. The drive to the show was filled with Elvis and his pestering questions and you turning up the radio only to hear his voice again.

When the group arrived at the hotel Elvis and you stood back while Rebecca dealt with the room situation. “Has anyone ever told you that you are annoying?” You crossed your arms and snapped at Elvis.

Elvis quickly retorted back, “No, they usually tell me I am handsome.” You rolled your eyes and directed your gaze toward Rebecca who was walking back toward you. Her lips were pulled in a thin-lipped smile.

“Alright, kiddos here you go.” She held up a single key which both Elvis and you grabbed at. “No, ya’ll are going to share a room.” She winced at her words.

“WHAT?!” The two of you asked,

Rebecca flashed you a quick smile and then made her way quickly back to Sam.

“My God, of course, this would happen to me!” You groaned out.

Elvis mumbled something you could not quite hear and made his way toward the room, and you quickly followed behind him. When he opened the door his face fell, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You pushed past him, and your face dropped when you saw there was only one bed.

He placed his suitcase on the bed and began to unpack, he placed his pillow on the right side of the bed.

“How can you be so nonchalant about this?” You asked mimicking his actions.

“Honestly, I don’t know what the hell I did to you to make you hate me, Y/N- but if it is such a problem I will sleep on the floor.” He grabbed his pillow and tossed it on the floor.

You bit down on your lip, “No Elvis, don’t sleep on the floor- I- I’m sorry. I just- I am just scared.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Scared of what?”

“I am scared of falling in love with you! I don’t want to get hurt.” You looked down at your feet.

Elvis smiled and made his way toward you, “You are in love with me?”

You shook your head, “I’m tired.” Grabbing your clothes you made your way to the bathroom and changed into your pajamas- you continued on with your night routine and made your way out to the bedroom. Elvis was already tucked underneath the covers with a book settled on his chest, he set the book on the nightstand and shifted to lay on his side. “Hey.” He smiled as you settled into the covers, “I know you said you did not want to talk about this right now but- I like you too.” He smiled. You shut the lights off and pulled the covers over your body. Soon you felt Elvis pull you into his chest, your forehead resting on his hard chest, “This alright?” He asked, his voice just above a whisper. “Mhm.” You mumbled softly. Of all people you had to share a bed with it had to be Elvis Presley and for once in your life, you were not complaining.

#emmy mae talks #emmymaewrites💜#austin butler #elvis movie #elvis 2022 #elvis presley #elvis the pelvis #ask box #elvis #austin!elvis x reader #elvis imagine #elvis presley x reader #elvis smut #elvis x reader #elvis fans #elvis songs

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haileyywrites · 1 year

Text

When Venti was still only known as Barbatos he had a lover he unfortunately lodt during the Archon War. Only hundreds of years later he met them again, only they were ree carnated as a child with theur memories gone, or were they?

-> Venti/Barbatos x gn!reader / romantic turned platonic!

-> Spoilers to Venti's backstory! Nameless bard is referred to as Himmel! Reader has no pronouns or gender specified! Mostly just fluff! This fic is purely fictional and might not be / meant to be lore accurate!

Venti had met you long ago when he didn't yet have a human form, when he was still only a wind wisp named Barbatos. He would sit with you and listen to Himmel play tunes for hours with you occasionally feeding him apple slices, you loved to cut them in different shapes. While Venti had always loved apples and Himmel's songs, what made him fall in love with them was you. It was what he associated with you and thus he grew to love them.

His love for you changed over time as when he was still a wisp he didn't quite understand or love you like a human would love, he just loved you. It was the simplest way to explain it, but he did fall in love with you after he gained his human form and truly became human. Of course it was a bit strange since his human form was created with Himmel in mind, it was painful having to face someone who looked so much like the friend you recently lost...

Time heals all wounds - Himmel and Barbatos were two different beings with different personalities. In time you were able to move on from the grief together and fall in love like any other being, but love truly blinded those in love. Even if the brutal Archon War didn't take you from him, age eventually would. Humans were so fragile and fleeting beings... A hundred years was barely anything in the eyes of an immortal god, but humans could barely live to such an age.

The title of Archon had left a bitter taste on his tongue after the war and especially after loosing you, everything he did for Teyvat and the Heavens - yet they still took you from him. Why did you of all have to leave him as well? He was lost for a long time after your death, as far back as he could remember he had always had you or Himmel. Now he had no one...

When he finally returned to human society he took on the name Venti and presented himself as just a simple bard who would play beautiful tunes throughout the city for nothing - or for some drinks in Angel's Share! Music always reminded him of you and Himmel, both free souls who loved music, even if you didn't play yourself you still loved it possibly more than the two of them combined. He played his lyre in honor of the two of you, every song dedicated to you, wherever you were now...

Venti closed his eyes and concentrated on playing his lyre, his fingers skillfully working on the delicate strings to bring about a beautiful tune. He quickly gained a small audience who stopped their daily activities to listen in. He was so used to crowds that the attention didn't phase him, but... he could feel something in the crowd. Something distantly familiar.

He finished his song and opened his eyes to scan the crowd for the cause of this strange feeling, only for them to fall downwards towards a young child. He could recognize those eyes instantly from anywhere... They shone just as brightly as back then. He hadn't known you when you were still a child, but there was no mistake. No matter how absurd, it had to be you!

“I like your music, sir!” You cheerfully said.

“Why thank you! You have excellent taste.” He instantly answered.

Despite his brain still trying to process everything, it still felt so easy and natural to answer you. Inside he was a total wreck trying to understand what was going on and if this truly was you, if it was - then how? How was it possible? He felt it was you, but at the same time not you...

“Here!” You extended your hand which held a large red apple, “I don't have any mora to give you! Sorry!”

He couldn't believe it... You didn't seem like you knew him or recognized him - how could you possibly know this was his favorite? If you didn't know then it was just one strange coincidence on top of everything.

“There's really no need, but I'll accept it!” He happily took the beautifully ripe apple. “So, what may I call such a generous soul?”

You giggled and gave him your name. It wasn't the one you had previously, but he should have expected that... Even he didn't go by the name he was previously known by, a name you had given him. He regretted not being able to be known by the name given by you, but perhaps it made it more special.

Out of curiosity he asked about your parents, but he only knew them by name. If they were in a crowd of people he likely wouldn't recognize or realize it was them - they were no one important really, yet they created you. He truly couldn't wrap his head around any of this, but he truly didn't need to. This time he would be there to protect you, this time you would live a happy and normal life, this time you would die old yet happy... He would make sure of it.

While it may have been considered creepy or was generally frowned upon for him to follow you around and watch you from a distance, he truly had no ill intentions! That's what a weirdo would say, but it was the truth. He loved the previous you - the you that he lost, he wanted for this you to have the life you couldn't. If it meant spending less time in the Tavern to hang around you, truly no one was complaining.

Venti refused to ever even think about pursuing this version of you, he didn't want to risk things ending up the same. Not to mention he would be there to watch you grew up! He would simply be your guardian bard - not a parental figure, but something of a cool uncle. He could separate the you he knew and this ree carnation of you, but he would never stop loving you no matter which version of you it was. His way of loving you would, but it would never go away.

“Have you ever seen a wind wisp, Venti?” You asked curiously.

“A wind wisp?” He almost froze in place from the shock.

“Yeah! A saw one in a dream last night, it turned into a boy with wings like a bird!” You exitedly told.

“I see... Did you see what they looked like?” He nervously replied.

“Um... I don't really remember, sorry!”

“It's okay! I don't think I've ever seen one, though.” It wasn't a total lie... He had never seen one, beside himself that is.

“Shame, I think they're really cute!” You giggled.

You would often tell him of these strange "dreams" you were having, they appeared to be more like distant memories that you could only call dreams because this you didn't have these memories. They were also more abstract than actual memories, like the wisp turning into a human was him taking on a human form. It was strange, but he didn't want to dwell into the possibility of you remembering things. Who would want to know they've died and been ree carnated.

He would talk with you about these dreams, but only when you brought it up and he always made sure to simply refer to them as just dreams. You were still young and would quickly forget about them - usually. But the older you got the more you could remember those dreams and slowly begin to suspect there was something unusual about them. Especially when the man with the wings you often saw was so similar looking to Venti...

He knew eventually you would figure it out and he would have to come clean, but he hoped that it would be far further in the future. He wasn't fond of the idea of reopening those wounds just yet, and who knew how you'd react. Still, no matter what he would always be there for you one way or another.

“Do you think Barbatos is sad, Venti?” You asked.

“Sad?” He questioned.

“Hmh, everyone says he hasn't been back in Mondstadt for a long time. Wouldn't he be lonely out there?”

“Hmm, maybe. Maybe he's out there flying with Dvaling in the sky!” He giggled.

“Who's Dvaling?” You tilted your head in confusion.

“Oh, it's Stormterrors real name! Would you like for me to play a tune about him?” He took out his lyre.

“Yup!” You exitedly replied.

No. He would never be sad when he had you, when he was by your side - that's what he wanted to say.

A/N: I'm having the worst case of writers block............... Also not proofread cus I'm lazy lol

Feel free to like and or reblog if you want, thanks!

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excessive-vampires · 5 months

Text

Val in the AH Part 5 (FINAL PART): In Which Val's New Life Begins

Setting and all characters except Val and Hector are from oliversrarebooks

Masterlist with CW

When Val awoke the next evening, they were given a simple white dress to wear and a box containing their shoes from before their capture. They were house slippers, but they were better than nothing and Val was glad to get them back. Lily then led Val to her car and put them in the passenger seat. The drive was uneventful and took a little under an hour. Hector’s home was far from modest, but nowhere near as extravagant as the mansion that housed the auction house. After Lily led them to the door and knocked, Val looked over at her.

“I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me, sir.”

Lily smiled and put a hand on Val’s shoulder. “You’re very welcome, Val, it was a genuine pleasure to work with you.”

Hector opened the door. He was dressed more casually, but no less dramatically. His burgundy velvet robe exposed his muscular chest and his black pajama pants were silk. The gold dust had been washed from his hair, which was pulled back into a loose ponytail. He smiled wide and predatorily when his eyes landed on Val, and in response everything in Val went still aside from their pounding heart.

Hector turned to Lily. “Thank you for delivering them. Nice doing business with you.”

“Likewise,” Lily replied.

Hector held out a hand to Val. They reached up and took it a little nervously. He smirked as he suddenly pulled them inside and shut the door behind them. Val gave a squeak of surprise and Hector chuckled in response. He pinned Val to a wall by their shoulders but stayed at arms’ length. “So. You’re officially mine. Does that please you?”

“Yes, sir.” Val said, a little breathily.

Hector leaned in and inhaled before whispering in Val’s ear. “You smell delectable.”

Val shivered.

Hector pulled back and ran the tip of his tongue over his fangs. “Tell me, my sweet valentine, what do you want?”

Val didn’t think anything could short-circuit their brain more than the sense of intense desire that the sight of Hector treating them as prey was creating, but that question hit them like a bolt of lightning striking them down through all the conditioning they’d been through and jarring their deepest self. “T-to fulfill your needs and wants.” They stammered out.

“No. What do you want right now, in this moment?”

“I-I…”

Hector’s eyes narrowed in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing, I–”

“Tell me what’s wrong.” Hector commanded, putting power behind his words.

“I’m embarrassed.” Val admitted against their will.

“Of what?”

“Of wanting anything. Of saying I want anything. It shouldn’t matter or affect what you or I do so–” Val took a couple fast breaths. “I-I’m sorry.”

Hector removed one hand from Val’s shoulder and grabbed their chin firmly but not roughly. He sighed. “I figured I’d have to fix your mind a bit.”

Val looked down in shame.

“No no, eyes here, on mine.”

Val looked back up quickly.

“Relax, valentine. Relax and let me deep into your mind.”

Val took a deep breath and let the tension out of their muscles. They felt their thoughts slipping away until only Hector existed.

“From now on, you’re not to be embarrassed around me about anything you desire. There is no reason not to tell me if you want or need anything unless I say otherwise.”

Val nodded. Hector put his hand back on their shoulder. The sense of anticipation and need returned to Val as Hector took a step closer to them. “Now. Tell me what you want.”

Their entranced mind knew only one desire right now. “I want you to bite me. I want it more than anything.”

Hector grinned wickedly. “Beg me for it.” Val had no idea how Hector was holding himself back this much, The vampiric aura filling the small space between them meant that Val could feel how badly Hector wanted this too, his intense hunger. And, just as strongly, they needed him to bite them, to sate his need with their blood.

“Please, please, Hector, sir,” Val tipped their head back against the wall, exposing their neck as much as possible. “Please take all you need from me, I want to feel your fangs in my throat.” They were breathing heavily and their heart was racing.

Hector let out a hungry growl and leaned in even closer. “Well how can I possibly resist that?” he moved to whisper in Val’s ear, they let out a needy whine as the increased proximity intensified their desire to give Hector exactly what he wanted. “Be still but don’t tense up. There will be just a second where it will hurt, then you’re going to feel amazing.”

Val’s breath hitched and their exhale let out another soft “Please.”

Hector chuckled again and sank his fangs into Val’s throat. Val gasped at the sharp pain, then let out a low moan as the most beautiful sensation suffused through them like ink in water. Hector kept one hand on Val’s shoulder, then moved the other to grip their hair and tilt their head further. Val felt like this was what their entire life had been leading up to, it was so right to be doing this, giving this. It was like Val’s mind was a lost helium balloon, floating away to the stars but also sinking like a stone in a warm sea of soft pleasure and fulfillment of their truest purpose, the intensity of the feeling nearly brought tears to their eyes.

Val felt their legs start to give out and Hector supported them by using his body to pin all of theirs to the wall. Hector was so good, so spectacular. Val couldn’t ask for a better master. As he moved to lick the smears of blood from around the wound Val heard his heavy panting breaths and the sound was intoxicating. They wanted him to want this, to hunger for them so much that only they could fulfill his desire.

He took a step back from Val and held them up by the shoulders again. He licked blood off of his lips and locked eyes with Val.

“You’re perfect,” he said.

Any doubts Val may have had about their new life being better than their old one were obliterated. Their mind was still lost in a wonderful haze. They smiled wide and unguarded. “Thank you, sir.”

With that Hector scooped Val up in his arms and carried them to a room he’d set up as their bedroom. As he tucked them in they noticed that the sheets were incredibly soft, like an old t-shirt that had been through the wash a million times, and the blanket he lay over them was nice fluffy fleece. They wanted to luxuriate in how they were feeling for as long as possible but sleep was pulling them in, and they were inclined to let it.

“I’m going to bring you a glass of water and a snack for when you awaken,” Hector said. “What would you like?”

Val struggled to think. “Peanut-butter sandwich, sir?”

“Alright, then. Now you rest up. The sooner you recover, the sooner we can do that again.”

A joyful laugh fought through Val’s tiredness as they let themself slip into blissful sleep.

#val #Val in the AH

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