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pearlywritings · 8 months

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Sometimes the name doesn't matter

synopsis: sometimes it matters that you are his wife. PART 2

pairings: Capitano, Kaveh, Tighnari, Zhongli x fem!reader (separately)

tw: fluff, established relationship, hurt/comfort; hybrids, unwelcomed courting, kind of female objectification (all in Tighnari's part)

word count: 6.9k+ words

a/n: part 1 can be read here!

Capitano

Fast elegant fingers of a pianist run across the keys of black and white and the violins in the hands of other musicians are there to serve together with the chorus of beautiful voices, selected by Lady Columbina personally. The music infiltrates the souls of the nobles present, filling them with the sense of grandeur and glory, touching even their harsh unfeeling hearts.

The atmosphere of the gathering is gratifying, would’ve even been endearing if not for the stately figures of the Harbingers standing on both sides of the throne, where the Tsaritsa would've been seated had she not decided to refrain from attending it altogether. She has more important matters to take care of, and nine of her most loyal servants can definitely fill in her place on that yearly event.

Sure, this year it is more important since the two Harbingers are missing and the seats stay vacant - it's been the talk of the nation. Who is going to be nominated? Can it be influenced? Will they claim the names today?

Is the mysterious Commander, whose arrival became the topic of multiple speculations, be the one? A fierce warrior many heard of, but almost none saw face to face. The man was believed to be as powerful as the 11th Harbinger or maybe even the 10th! Having an army and an establishment of his own on the farthest line of the Snezhnayan border, he still is under the command of Lord Capitano, which makes it even harder to fish any more information than what is already known to the public.

"I only heard about him. He and his troops are protecting our borders from the monster's invasion in the North."

"Ew, who would've wanted to live in the North! It's much harsher than all the Snezhnaya."

"Shush, the Commander is wealthy and respectful, you can bear some cold."

"What do you imply?"

"The Commander is unmarried, there is no way he isn't, not with a life like this. But it can always be changed, and the woman he takes as wife would be one of the luckiest ones!"

"You are right… Maybe he is actually handsome. Maybe he'd be even willing to buy a whole mansion for his promised one and not take her with him to that awful place. Maybe…"

Maybe, maybe, maybe. It travels through the crowds like a storm in its wake, eventually reaching the Harbingers, who, for the first time after appearing and greeting the already arrived, stop resembling the statues. Eyes shift among the people and each other; some gazes hold interest, some - annoyance. Only Pantalone has an ever present smile on his face, fingers clasped in front of him and sapphire rings sparkle in the ballroom light.

"Looks like Capitano's estimated soldier caught everyone's attention. My, my, how curious and nosy the people can be…"

"I understand the curiosity though," admits Childe, arms crossed to prevent laying even a finger on his blade, that is resting on his hip. "This person sounds like an interesting specimen… I've heard of his talents in both strategy and tactics, and it seems like his strength is a legend. I'd love to spar with him."

"Oh you, thinking only about fights, young man," Pulcinella disapprovingly shakes his head and raises his cane to point in the gingerhead's direction. "I highly doubt our guest will have time to spare, considering the period of time concerning the stay that was mentioned in the letter we received."

"And I believe the majority of that time would be spent with Il Capitano, isn't it right?" Columbina's soft voice must be drowning in the music, but everyone hears her loud and clear.

"..." The Harbinger stays silent and nothing can be read from his body language since he is the only one remaining still in his place, his huge looming figure resembling one of the full-set armor nobles like putting in their halls as a part of interior. Except this one isn't empty.

"So much potential to become my test subject, to be perfected... Yet lost to the lands of Northern regions," Dottore huffs in disappointment, his sharp teeth peaking when he clicks his tongue. "Say, Pierro, can't things be rearranged? I'd happily have our dear border protector as my underling."

The silence between the nine suddenly becomes thick. There is something indescribably tense in the air and only Childe can't understand why some of his colleagues seem to be more interested in how the Captain would react and not the 1st of the Harbingers..

"You know why this can't be rearranged, Dottore," the stare of an icy blue eye would pin everyone to the ground, destroying their will and order to obey, though doing little to scare the Doctor. "And it was favored by the Tsaritsa herself."

The finality of the short statement makes the scientist back down from the proposition he's been bringing up every time the topic touches the Commander, yet ending up the same way as always - with an ultimate rejection.

Three heavy thuds make everyone in the room fall silent. Many heads turn to look at the ceremonial staff hitting the floor the last time and staying still in the hand of a tall, thoroughly dressed man.

"The protector of the Northern border, the glorified and esteemed warrior of Her Majesty Tsaritsa, The Commander has arrived," the master's of ceremonies voice carries like a thunderclap, cutting off the quite leisurely music the orchestra was playing for the dances and entertainment.

The rustle of note sheets is fleeting and not a moment later the musicians straighten in their seats, taking a deep breath. Trumpets boom in a spacious room and make nobles shiver in surprise, some especially susceptible women even lean on their partners for support. The choir and the violins join the triumphant song the brass instruments sing, signaling that the time has come.

Everyone holds their breath as the tall heavy doors leading to the ballroom are being pulled open. Everyone has their gaze glued to a slowly growing gap. Everyone keeps their eyes wide open, afraid that even one blink can cost them missing the legendary sight.

Everyone gasps.

The tall figure enters, posture straight and shoulders squared, confidence evident in every step. Black satin clothes are adorned with golden chains and intricate patterns. The white military coat stayed resting on the shoulders - showing off the position, the closeness to the Harbingers. And then there is the face - a scar crossing the left brow, calm bored eyes, not sparing anyone a glance, which do not fit the other female features of your face.

Yes, the Commander happens to be a woman.

Stopping by the steps leading to the throne, you bow - not kneel, bow, - holding your open palm by the heart and respectfully closing your eyes. Music stops.

“Greetings, my lords. Let Tsaritsa bless you and your mission.”

“Let Tsaritsa bless you and your service to her,” Pierro says, raising his hand. “Lift your head,” which you do, looking him right in the eyes, yet still holding your hand by the chest. “There is time for duties and there is time for entertainment. And tonight, given your rare visits to the capital, I suggest you enjoy the latter.”

“Much obliged, Lord Pierro.”

And with a wave of the older man’s hand, the orchestra starts a new composition, waking up the ones who were in a daze, reminding others they are here for drama.

And the first one to take action is the 11th Harbinger.

“Commander, Sir- I mean, Lady?” The gingerhead is the closest to you out of all his colleagues, having only to descend a few steps to be on your level. “I’ve heard a lot about you, many admirable things. How do you look at sparring?”

“Right in the middle of a ballroom? Quite positively, young man,” your lips twist in a half-smirk, baring a sharp pearly canine. “But I believe the nobles have already had enough shock to take and rumors to create. Maybe another time. Haven’t seen you before though. Are you new?”

“Tartaglia, the Eleventh Harbinger, Lady Commander.”

“Ma’am would be enough,” you click your tongue, glancing behind and noticing how slowly, but surely some of the aristocrats are inching towards you, clearly interested in conversation, Well, you are not. “On second thought, starting a duel right now and here doesn’t sound like a bad idea…”

“I’ve always known you are quite insane,” Arlechino butts her way in the conversation, giving you only a small nod as a greeting. You simply glance at her.

“For years I’ve been hearing of my insanity, think of something new,”

“How about, ‘the one who knows no limits’?” Pantalone’s smile is as dazzling as it’s fake and sometimes your hands are itching to strangle the man. Maybe even go all the way out and bite his head off. Literally.

“The only ones who know no limits are the wind and the stupidity. I’m neither. Who I am though,” your gaze travels higher, to the steps closest to the Tsaritsa’s throne, to there Pierro and the first three Harbingers are standing, “is a wife. And I’d like to have a dance with my husband.”

Not many heard your words, but the ones who did, gasp loudly, staring at you with wide eyes. Which get even wider when Il Capitano, a seemingly motionless statue before, turns in his place and, without a pause, steadily descends to you. Now, as you are standing so closely it becomes evident how obviously your outfits match. The chains, the patterns, even the precious stones - everything. Perhaps it is terrifyingly cute. Perhaps it's cutely terrifying.

“Husband,” your smile again, offering him your hand, which he immediately envelopes in his big clawed one.

“Wife,” is the first word the big figure rumbles for the evening, the void of its helmet staring at you. And that’s all you speak to each other, hearing the beginning of another melody and turning to join the dancing pairs.

“...What was that?” Childe voices what’s been plaguing the minds of the attendees. “First the Commander appears to be a woman, and now she is married to the Lord Il Capitano?” He glances at Pulcinella, who joins his side and decides to watch the pair that caused a commotion have their fun. “Do they not use their names?”

“They find no sense in them,” the Rooster answers just the last question. “And,” he lowers his voice and the ginger has to bend down to hear the next words, “I didn’t tell you that, but the Captain really loves calling her his wife. So be quite cautious while seeking a fight with her. You might end up impaled. By either of them.”

Kaveh

With a soft smile you watch a group of children merrily leaving their classroom, interrupting each other in attempts to tell everyone how exciting the lesson was. They do not forget to grin and wave at you, passing by, and you return the sentiment, contently observing their happy faces and sparkly eyes.

Every time this happens, a strange sense of fulfillment overtakes you - supporting and sponsoring Kaveh was one of the best decisions you’ve ever made. The greatest architect of nowadays is offering his guidance to the young generation, teaching them everything about beauty and practicality, helping them to develop their own creative vision, and at the same time boosting the confidence of kids of all ages. And you couldn’t be prouder of him.

Him, who meticulously prepares for every single lesson. Him, who is oh-so-gentle with his words and precise in his speech. Him, who teaches both Sumeru citizens and people coming from abroad. Him, who is as passionate about it, as he is about his designing job, telling you every single detail of how the lessons went on your way home or over the dinner. Him, who is happy and who makes you happy too with that fact alone.

When the last kid leaves, marking the ending of the final class for today, you glance at the clock. Now Mister Meticulousness will need half an hour to tidy up the classroom and put all the tools away. Tomorrow is free from classes at his (he always corrects your as in the both of you) school, so you can collect your stuff as well - after all, being the manager of this establishment and Kaveh specifically requires your presence. You can be strict and unyielding whenever he can’t and this partnership proves to be successful every day.

Just as you are writing down some financial staff, there is a soft knock on the doorframe. Immediately lifting your eyes you hum, observing a very good-looking woman and a boy, shyly holding onto her hand.

“Hello, how can I help you?” With a quill laid on top of your accounting book, you stand and round the table, offering the two to step closer.

“Ah, hello, miss…” eyes with long, pretty lashes flit to the name tag attached to your clothes, “...Y/n. This is master Kaveh’s artistic school, am I correct?”

“Yes, you are. Are you here to sign your boy up for a class?” You offer her son a sweet smile and he answers you with a small lift of his lips.

“Mhm. You see, he is a big fan of master Kaveh and his works - can study the pictures of his designs taken by Kamera day and night.”

At that, the boy lowers his gaze and blushes a little, digging a hole in the ground with the tip of his shoe.

“Oh, really?” A gasp that escapes your chest is one of excitement. “That’s marvelous! I am sure your hopefully soon-to-be-teacher will be very interested in hearing your opinion of his works, young connoisseur,” he giggles, lifting his eyes at you again, and there you see undisguised delight. “Oh, but my bad, I didn’t ask your names…”

The woman’s lips bare two rows of perfectly white teeth as she smiles at you, introducing herself and her son.

“We are from Fontaine actually. But my parents wanted to spend some indefinite period of time in Sumeru for their health and we decided to join them. So while we are here, I thought I’d make my son’s dream come true.”

“That’s so nice of you,” you can’t help but admire her a little for that. “I can tell you first a little about our school, you’ll ask all the questions you need to, and then I’ll show you around. Kaveh should be done with cleaning by then, so there’s a big chance you’ll even talk to him personally.”

“Really!?” That’s the first time throughout your entire interaction when the boy opens his mouth and actually makes a sound. “Master Kaveh is here right now?”

“He is. But can’t promise a long conversation - there are still blueprints waiting for him back at home.

“Ah, right… He is the great architect after all,” the woman hums, staring to the side as if in thought. “Between the commissions he takes and this school he must be making good money. Not to mention so handsome…”

Oh… What a familiar tone, what a familiar look in those eyes. Suddenly that ounce of respect you felt for her disappears.

“Money is irrelevant to him as long as he reaches his goal,” is your restrained response.

“Ah, of course! Handsome, sweet, kind, good with kids and is not a snob. Sweety, you ought to charm him for me!” She pinches her son’s cheek. “Imagine Master Kaveh as your daddy!”

Oh Archons, again?

There is absolutely no doubt that the light of Kshahrewar is not only well-known and popular among kids, but is thirsted after by women. In a half of a year your school has been existing, there were numerous times when moms of little students made comments alike or some single females trying to schedule private sessions with the architect. What a sagacious decision it was to make group studying only, it saves you some drama, once the legal document is shown. Though there are exceptionally persistent examples…

But this time you pity the kid a little, because he genuinely seems to admire Kaveh. And his next words make you internally cheer for the little guy.

“Master Kaveh as my dad? But mom, I have a dad already,” the boy pouts, rubbing at the pinched cheek. You notice a red mark and two little crescent moons that her nails left on a tender skin. “I love him and don’t need another one.”

“Sweety, you just don’t understand how great it would be to have such a dad! Just trust my word-”

“Ahem, Madame, I kindly ask you to deal with your family affairs once you are out of here. As for the school - I am open for discussion.”

The displeased way she glances at you doesn’t go unnoticed, but you do not show it anyhow, calmly staring back at her, while your hand reaches up to your chest. As if finally remembering her initial reason for coming here with her son, the woman sighs and puts a palm on the boy’s shoulder.

“Of course, miss- I’m sorry I forgot your name…” And her eyes flit to the name tag again.

Momentarily the woman squints from the light reflecting on the metal, and when she blinks the bright spots away, there is a beautiful golden ring on your hand. The hand that is holding the flipped tiny plate with just two words engraved in it.

"Kaveh's wife"

With widened eyes she stares back at your sweetly polite smile. Not saying a word as if letting the notion sink in, you walk to the wall. Grabbing the backs of two chairs you drag them to your table so they could sit, and take your rightful place in front of them.

“If you are here for something aside from or instead of signing your son up for classes, I believe my name should be irrelevant to you. My status though,” you knock a nail twice on the badge, “must. So… what are you here for, Madame?”

The boy climbs onto his chair right away, while his mother tarries a little, still shocked by the revealed fact and your suddenly changed demeanor. She needs a couple more seconds to compose herself, but eventually she too sits down.

Despite what happened earlier, your conversation proves to be fruitful and fifteen minutes later you are showing around the school, sharing some additional information and answering every single of the kid’s questions.

When in the last room you find your husband, closing Mehrak and looking ready to leave, the boy lets out a gasp. The sound attracts the man’s attention, and he turns to the three of you with a soft smile.

“Oh, hello there, little guy!” The blond waves at him, breaking the blissful stupor of a child that immediately turns red and hides behind his mother. Surprised, Kaveh looks at you for explanation but, instead, takes notice of your name’s replacement. Oh wow, this again. What was the last time you did that? Two weeks ago?

“Ah, Master Kaveh!” The woman charmingly smiles, batting her lashes at him, which would’ve made you cringe had it never happened before. “You see, my son-”

“Pardon me, Madame, give me a moment,” the male softly interrupts her and reaches for a similar metal plate on his chest with his own name to flip it. It’s almost comical how sour the temptress’s face got in a second.

And there is what for. Now two words are proudly matching yours, engraved in an equally beautiful cursive to remind the world who the two of you become once stripped of your names.

Just his ”Y/n’s husband” to your “Kaveh’s wife”.

And like that one more kid takes part in your lovely school and one suitor less is after one of its founders.

Tighnari

With each passing day of your team’s research in the desert you found it harder and harder to control yourself. Some days you were even on the verge of clawing and biting, tail and ears twitching in annoyance and pupils turning into wild slits, making your hybrid nature more obvious.

Was it because of the research? No, it couldn’t be farther - your colleagues have been making so much progress, heeding your advice and following your lead. Was it the location perhaps? A little, but you learnt how to deal with heat and dryness. Was the process taking too much time? On the contrary, you are on your way home already, having finished the job 4 days earlier than you estimated in the beginning.

Then what on earth could possibly trigger you like this?

Well…

“Hey, forest foxy, want me to catch the Consecrated Flying Serpent for you?”

Ah yes, him.

Never again will you trust the higher ups at the Akademiya to sponsor your team with the bodyguards. Out of every possible candidate, your Herbad-titled colleague concluded that hiring five descendants of Valuka Shuna would be a marvelous idea.

“They are the desert kind - they’ll be good guides.” “Look how much stronger they are, they’ll definitely protect all of you.” “They are of the same kind as you, Y/n. Don’t you think it’ll be easier for you, as the leader, to have someone akin with you?”

No, it absolutely would not!

Desert fennec hybrids are different from the forest ones - and it’s not even the case of your green and their sandy brown fur or their more brutal physique against your more delicate one. It’s their character and world perception. You’ll never call them barbarians, but they really developed more of the animal nature than your kind did.

And from day one it was a pain in the butt.

One of your five new bodyguards was clearly the leader - he was bigger and broodier, with more scars littering his body, and his whole stance was screaming of a higher position. When you were introduced for the first time, something lit up in his grayish eyes, which were looking you over appreciatively. You ignored that, more focused on the discussion of the upcoming expedition and making sure the five were aware of what was required of them.

Luckily they were, and, admittedly, they did fulfill their task meticulously, proving to be great help. If only one of them wasn’t so diligent.

You lost count of how many times the leader tried to get into your personal space and you had to move away. Of the numerous invitations to hunt together. Of the endless displays of his strength and abilities. Of the many conversations you didn’t even try to eavesdrop on (they talked pretty loudly) around the topic of when will your shell be cracked and you’d accept the male’s courting attempts.

The answer was obvious, but he just never got it. Even when you called him for a serious conversation on the turning-into-an-issue matter.

“With all respect I must ask you to stop with whatever you’ve been doing to woo me. I have a husband.”

You still remember how he blinked at you dumbly, clear lack of understanding written on the sun-kissed face.

“...and?”

“The heck do you mean ‘and’?”

“Well, you don’t have a mate?”

It was your turn to stare at him speechless, ear twitching and tail curling closer to your legs. It was getting worse than just ridiculous.

“If we are speaking in such terms, then my husband is my mate. So, please-”

You nearly gasped when the male immediately leant closely, violating your personal space and practically stuffing his nose against your neck. Shocked by such lack of shame, you lost the ability to talk or move for a moment, gaping at him sniffing around and humming upon the discovery.

“You don’t wear anyone’s smell on you.”

You were not proud of yourself at that moment, but you absolutely lost it. Sharpened claws dug into his chest and with an angry snarl you pushed him back.

“Get away from me!”

You must’ve been a sight - canines bared and fingers twitching, ready to attack; fur standing on both your ears and tail, signaling your distress and eyes slitted in pure rage while directed at the man in front of you. The worst part? The idiot seemed to like it even more.

“What me and my partner do must be of no concern to you. I told you ‘no’ and I mean it.”

But bold of you was to assume he’d stop. Oh no, it’s gotten worse. Now he was actively calling you a ‘forest foxy’, absolutely abandoning your name and even trying to scent you. It was suffocating - the desert aridity was lighter in comparison to the male hybrid’s pheromones.

Never in all your academic practice have you wanted to return home so badly.

Fortunately, your colleagues quickly caught on to what was going on and always helped you to escape the unwanted interactions. Plus they were equally as mad as you were, because his individual scent irritated their human noses - and that was the main reason why you and Tighnari, both spending a lot of time around other people, did not practice it. Partly, you are sure, this whole situation was the reason for your earlier return - and you were grateful for their understanding.

However, your stubborn suitor did not dream of giving up. Killed desert animals were still offered to you, stories of his legendary battles with monsters were told for the hundredth time (even though no one was interested in listening at that point) and attempts to lure you with the musky smell once again made. Archons, and the green-furred fennec girls from your teens used to dream of that.

Maybe Lesser Lord Kusanali would be merciful and you’ll meet your husband somewhere on your way?

“Herbad Y/n!”

…wow, that was quick. Not Tighnari, but incredibly welcome too.

“Collei!” For the first time in days there is a reason for your soft smile. Which the young girl mirrors, waving at you from not so far away. You notice a couple more of the Forest Rangers at her side, and that sight alone makes you finally exhale in relief. You are so close to being home.

“Master is here too! Want me to get him?”

Oh, Dendro Archon, thank you.

“I’d really appreciate it, dear!” With a quick nod the green-haired apprentice disappears in the bushes, and you turn back to the scholars of your group. It’s time to abuse your power a little. “We are almost at the Devadaha Pool. Since all of you live in Sumeru City I hope you’ll excuse me for staying behind. As for you five,” your gaze moves to the bodyguards and it’s so hard not to rejoice - soon they’ll be just a memory, “I ask you to accompany the rest of my team to the Akademiya. Then you can consider your job done and be free. Keep the payment for the last three days that didn’t happen - think of it as a bonus for a good job.”

All but one eagerly nod and bid you farewell with wishes of getting home safely. And frankly speaking? You couldn’t care less for that one when you spot familiar and oh so dear big pointy ears with an intricate golden earring adorning one of them.

“Tighnari!” You didn’t want to sound so desperate, you really didn’t. But when those forest-like lovely eyes look in your direction, it becomes clear to you - the yearning has gotten unbearable.

“Y/n…” His smile is dazzling and the way his body immediately pushes to walk to you almost makes the memories of the last weeks’ events go away.

The key word - almost.

Someone grabs your elbow when you want to meet him halfway. Oh right, you already forgot about him.

“Let me go, you, imbecile!” And again you have to snarl and be rude, ripping your arm out of the strong hold and quickly darting into your husband’s embrace. The natural smell of the leaves, the flowers, the sweet and bitter concoctions he makes in his home laboratory, comfort you and your whole body goes nearly limp in his hold. It’s been weeks and you are tired of fighting with the brick wall - this time you want your lover to handle it for you.

“Y/n, my lotus, are you alright?” Gentle fingers comb through your hair and scratch at the base of your ears - a whole ass adult, that you are, wants to tear up. But you can only shake your head a no. “Has this man been bothering you?” This time it’s a yes. “I got you, dear.”

“So,” the browny green eyes sharpen upon staring at the cause of your current state, when it starts speaking, “you are that ‘husband’ the foxy has been talking about? I thought you’d be stronger. Or at least taller. Now I see that I was right and you really can’t be her mate.”

“Oh but I am. Not that we have to prove anything to a stranger. Y/n,” he carefully pries your face from his shoulder, caressing your cheek with a beanie pad, “let’s go home. You must be so-so tired.”

“I am, ‘nari. I am exhaus-”

“There’s no smell of you on her and vice versa,” the desert descendent of the Valuka Shuna seems to not be planning to stop. “Her neck is not marked. You let her wander by herself for weeks? And you keep calling her by the name. Her name should've stopped mattering once she became your mate!”

The hand around your waist tenses and you can feel the claws threatening to tear through the gloves he always wears. You don’t need to look at the face of your lover to know how pissed he is. And if Tighnari decides to attack him and tear his tongue out? You will not stop him.

“I am going to say it once and only once. She is not just a mate, she is my wife, by the Sumeru law and by the blessing of the Dendro Archon. And this fact must matter to you more than the case of her name. So fuck off and leave my wife alone. And if you don’t get it in a civil way - this woman is taken. And this territory is mine.”

With that, the Forest Watcher effortlessly lifts you in his arms and, holding you as if a precious bride, turns around to leave. You haven’t looked back once.

“You can’t imagine how much I missed being called your wife,” you quietly confess, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Especially after he didn’t listen when I said that I am.”

Tighnari hums sympathetically, leaning close to rub his nose against yours.

“Will it be okay then if today I address you as my wife only? When we join the other rangers, I mean.”

”...if you think I will be embarrassed - make it a whole week.”

With a soft chuckle your husband plants a kiss on your lips, sealing the deal and promising you tranquil days at last.

“As you wish, wife.”

Zhongli

"...and so Rex Lapis takes the form of a dragon, a majestic creature he was born as - the one of whom the fair maiden would never be scared of. Lady Guizhong's robes flutter in the tender wind traveling among the mountain peaks and caressing the earthly scales of the God's enormous body. His eyes, shiny as gold, gaze at her with an unfamiliar softness as she holds a gentle flower - a delicate gift from her lover, the one that proves that under all that armor is a stone heart capable of love. Heart that is beating for her."

To loud applause the Iron Tongue Tian bows his head, drawing the legend of the gods in love to its end. You cannot bring yourself to clap even politely, both hands on your lap, hidden under the table, twitching when a man beside you lets his gloved palms meet each other a couple of times.

It’s the second time you had to sit and endure the baloney from the very beginning to the very end, not to count all those times you overheard it in passing. From the moment you settled in the Liyue Harbor together with your husband, to live the rest of your incredibly long lives together among the humans, you've been painfully aware of their interpretation of Rex Lapis and his relationship with other immortal beings. Before that you rarely accompanied him during the walks, busy with helping Yakshas and other adepti protect the said humans to grant them a peaceful life - as immortal guardians grew fewer, every single one counted.

Never have you ever imagined that knowing so little of the citizens’ folklore would backfire so hard. It seems that people got somewhat bored listening to the stories of Liyue and Rex Lapis, no matter how many interpretations existed. Literature became more diverse in genres and romantic novels were on top of the list, so street narrators started losing their audience little by little. Before it could grow into something more drastic the new side of history was presented to the public - stories about love among immortals appeared and its freshness and uniqueness caught people’s attention immediately.

In their searches for new material, speakers dug through hundreds of volumes. The main interest was the Lord of Geo, of course. If you have a story of a presumably stone-hearted creature ever having fallen in love with someone - that’s pure gold! But who could you present as a love interest of the Archon? It must be someone very close to him and, obviously, no one is more well-known for that than the deceased Archon of Dust.

You sigh, reaching for your cup and declining Madam Ping’s offer to pour you some more tea - for an unclear reason the fellow adeptus joined you two tonight. You have thousands of years of life behind your existence, a soul hardened by constant battles, and mannerism as polished as a jade statue, yet for a moment you feel concerned that the woman would notice a pang of hurt in the smallest of your features.

Zhongli definitely noticed the first time. It was meant to be a date night - simple, but sweet, with the evening lights, delightful aroma of the finest tea and the tales pouring from skilled tongues reflecting the atmosphere of what your nation really is. However, the luck of the land of trades wasn’t on your side, as someone requested the “Guili legend” as they called it. At first you were confused. Then in disbelief, almost turning to look at your mate, with whom you were bonded long before he became allies with the ash-haired woman. In the end you felt something you thought was beyond you - bitterness.

When you left the restaurant, slowly walking back to your house, Zhongli’s fingers gently touched your elbow, asking for your attention.

“Does it bother you that much, my love?”

Bother you? Well… It does feel insulting when someone speaks of your husband having been in love with someone else, but mortals can’t possibly know the truth for many reasons.

“I can’t say it doesn’t,” you admitted calmly, stopping and turning fully to him. He did the same, gazing at you with a hint of worry in those golden eyes you loved so much. The ones, you knew, always looked only at you. “But it can’t be helped, right? There was a reason and mutual agreement why you, as Rex Lapis, made our union unknown to your people, and now, since you are “dead”? There is no one to tell our story. Don’t worry though,” you put a hand on top of his and smiled, when his other one was laid on top of yours in a gesture of comfort. “I can deal with it. I know you love going to the storyteller’s performances. I’ll just try to ignore what they say about you and Lady Guizhong.”

Sometimes Zhongli thinks he does not deserve you. Ever so patient and understanding, you always had your husband's best interest at heart. Marriage, however, in its basis is a form of a contract, and a good contract is all about both sides being equal in everything. And if you must know one thing about Rex Lapis - he never makes bad contracts.

When the audience calms down, the man decides to make his presence and intentions clear by raising a hand. From the corner of his eye he notices you slightly turning your head to glance at him, and he catches a glimpse of puzzlement in your gaze. He can't help but think how adorable you are, even if you deny it again and again, claiming that nothing can be adorable about a several millennia-old warrior. Maybe not, but his wife definitely is, and he thinks with a primordial pride igniting in his chest, that mating with you was the best decision his past self had ever made.

Reaching under the table he rests his free hand on top of yours, gently squeezing it in reassurance, offering you the warmth of himself, seeping through his glove. Just as your shoulders relax to his delight, the raised hand adorned with rings is finally noticed.

"Ah, Mr Zhongli! Such an honor to see a regular, especially someone as wise as yourself!" Iron Tongue Tian beams with a wide smile, closing his fan and focusing his full attention on the history connoisseur. "I doubt you have questions, given your vast knowledge, and I can't wait to hear what else you can add to this already heart-felt story."

You force your lips not to twitch, hiding behind the tea cup again. Suddenly it tastes bitter. But another squeeze your husband gives your hand doesn't let you dwell on it too much.

"You are correct, I do have some knowledge to offer. However, it might disappoint you, as it will completely destroy the story of the Geo Archon and the Archon of Dust."

The whispers ran through the crowd like a powerful wave, and you can see confusion written over every single face. But also, there is intrigue.

"I took it upon myself,” Zhongli however continues, “to invite Madame Ping to back up my story, as she was the witness to it," the elder woman - a well-known Adeptus that doesn't hide her existence among mortals - nods with a soft smile.

"I read this in legends a long time ago, but remembered only when the 'Guili legend' became popular. Rex Lapis indeed had a lover, however it was not Lady Guizhong," the gasps are almost deafening. Just as your quickened heartbeat.

And for the next hour the man by your side and the elderly-looking woman that joined you tonight proceed to tell the story of the adeptus, who was the first and only to ever bring the Geo Archon to his knees, to be worshiped like a goddess by his eyes, by his words, by his very heart. Of a warrior, whose fierce eyes and valiant nature made a dragon in Rex Lapis roar in delight. Of the woman, who entranced him with her beauty, caring soul and motherly attention directed to other adepti - Madame Ping adds with a laugh of how the two created a parent-like dynamic even before they became official (at that you find it so hard not to turn bashful).

They tell the legend of the silk flowers - the ones you might see everywhere in the vast lands of Liyue. How the Geo Archon personally asked the Dendro Archon for guidance to cultivate the tenderest of flowers, how he taught his people to make the delicate fabric out of it, but even then it couldn’t compare to the skin of his immortal mate.

They tell stories of how annoyed she was when the god turned into a dragon to fall asleep somewhere in the depths of the earth for years without telling her prior, and how he returned with the purest stones and metals and with his own hands forged the pair of matrimonial rings (yes, the ones wrapped around your fingers to this day).

Madame Ping fondly speaks of all those thousands of years of protection the said adeptus spent to make sure that her godly spouse’s people were safe and maybe just a tiny sliver of pride rushes through your heart at the public acknowledgement.

“But she wished not to be known,” the woman sighs and you know she glances at you reproachfully. Well-deserved, given the circumstances you are in right now. “Thus it’s not much of a surprise people made a mistake like that. Besides, you won’t find much information in written sources about her either way.”

“But she must have a name at least!” Someone from the fairly grown crowd exclaims.

“That she does,” Zhongli nods, lacing his fingers with yours under the table, lips tugging in a calm smile, when you squeeze his hand in return. “Though I am afraid it would be pointless to try and find out now - we wouldn’t want to disturb her mourning the departure of her husband, would we? After all, they must’ve loved each other so much.”

“But how can you be so sure?”

“Because,” golden eyes are on you, catching yours, pulling you in, whispering for your soul and heart to get lost in them, “I can understand how this love was born and got to bloom. My wife showed me that.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #il capitano x reader #capitano x reader #capitano x fem!reader #kaveh x reader #kaveh x fem!reader #tighnari x reader #tighnari x fem!reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x fem!reader #il capitano #capitano #kaveh #tighnari #zhongli #genshin impact fluff

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month

Note

Can I request headcanons for Sunday, Boothill, Welt, Gallagher, Blade, and Dan Heng react to his shy gn crush giving him a love letter before leaving quickly?

Sunday:

Is calm upon receiving the note and still just as calm after reading it.

He knew this day was coming, you weren’t necessarily subtle about it either but he didn’t want to bring it up to you, knowing that if he did you’d loose all the confidence you’ve mustered up in order to give him the note.

He could read you like an open book and yet your sweet, genuine words touched his heart regardless. You held his heart in your hand and you weren’t even aware, he’ll be sure to rectify that soon enough.

While he wishes you could’ve told him in person, however he’ll gladly suffice for a note instead, seeing as it was the closest he’ll get in regard to an official confession.

With his place in your heart ensured, Sunday could finally use this as an opportunity to spoil you to your hearts content. Anything and everything you could ever possibly want or wish for was going to be yours if he had anything to do with it.

Your wish was his command and he’ll gladly rid himself of any competitors for your heart, all the while shielding your eyes from his underhanded tactics in doing so.

Welt:

You make this old man feel as though he were young and lively when you gave him the note and running off before he could say anything.

He felt as though he was in a romcom that he saw once…not that he was complaining.

Your note was so sweet and thoughtful that the more he continued to read, the more he began to find even more reasons to love you, for who you were was the most precious and perfect person in his life.

He didn’t want to confess first incase that he misread your past interactions for something else, but the note you’ve given him proved that his initial thoughts were correct, and that in reality he was just insecure and felt silly of the idea that someone his age was still experiencing things such as a crush.

But it was so much more than that and Welt knew it.

The only question left was, when was it going to be his time to confess?

Dan heng:

Thank god he took the note back to his room while he did because had he read it beforehand, otherwise his fellow trailblazers would’ve seen his face go the reddest it’s ever been in history.

He reads and re-reads your note to make sure that he wasn’t tricking himself but no, it was a real physical note from you confessing your crush on him.

Dan Heng felt as though he needed to sit down and think this through before he did something impulsive and stupid.

His little dragon noodle brain was telling him that he should seek out the most beautiful of all treasures, whether that be literature, clothing, jewels, and give them to you in droves in hopes of impressing you into being his mate.

Dan Heng dismisses it quickly as it came as it’ll probably overwhelm you and that was the exact opposite of what he wanted, and with that it was back to the drawing board to brainstorm.

Gallagher:

The moment he reads your note, he’s already got ideas on how your first date should go.

He’s not pissing about, not when you’ve given him the opportunity to treat you like he thought you should be treated; like you were the most priceless thing in existence because to him you very much were.

So why should he hesitate and potentially miss his chance to be with the person of his dreams?

He knew your favourite drink like the back of his hand from the countless times he’s made in perfecting it to your liking, so that wasn’t going to be as much of a problem as asking you out on a date was.

But he’ll figure something out, even if he’d have to improvise on the day. It would’ve been worth it if it meant having you by his side by the end of it.

Blade:

He’s not use to this sort of thing as love notes were a foreign concept to him.

He understood the intention and meaning behind it but he wasn’t the one to receive such notes.

So when you dropped off the note with him and ran the faster he’s ever seen you with a flustered look upon your face, Blade instantly knew then and there what the note was solely from your expression.

He wasn’t stupid so why he feeling a fluttering within his chest upon making this revelation?

It wasn’t painful nor caused his body any ache nor strife, if anything the more the warm, euphoric feeling spread throughout his body, the more his daily pains become an after thought in light of a possibility that you might actually like him back.

He always thought that the stories and blood -both his own and others- that stained his hands would run you off within a moments notice. Instead you choose to grasp his hands gently, wipe away the blood unfazed and still be able to look into his eyes after all that and smile.

You were his and Blade would be damned if he allowed anyone to encroach on you, regardless of their intentions. You weren’t to be taken from him for he’s already been through a lot and you weren’t going to be another name amongst the lost.

Boothill:

‘What’s this? Finally come to confess to me have you?’ He’d tease but would be genuinely surprised when he opens the note and finds that it actually is a confession note.

His crush? Liking him back? Bullshit!

He may act confident and self assured but he was in heavily in denial to begin with, but the more he re-read the note, he could tell that you were being serious. Which was a drastic change from your typically shy and anxious demeanour.

He even had to pinch the skin of his face to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming this up and that you were genuinely in love with him.

Sad he knows, but would you really be willing to date a man who wouldn’t be able to feel you expect from his face? Yeah he didn’t think so.

And yet you’ve proven him wrong by writing him a love letter confessing how you didn’t care about that, and how you loved him regardless if he could feel you or not. He was still someone you cared for deeply at the end of the day, never less someone you happened to find attractive. You weren’t shallow and Boothill knows this.

Not only that but he was genuinely scared that his best wasn’t going to be enough for you, sweet, kind, caring you…However Boothill recognises that hesitating and fearing the what ifs weren’t going to help him in wining your heart true and proper.

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jeongin-lvr · 4 months

Text

ᙏ̤̫ ˘˘˘ txt reactions when another member likes you (nsfw)

𓈃 ★ YEONJUN

He’s such a smug bitch about it; obviously he’s jealous but the way he shows it is surreal. He’s clingier when Taehyun is around, grabbing your wrists and waist despite protests and plopping you in his lap, making eye contact with the boy just to see his reaction. Taehyun only watches albeit longingly. Yeonjun on the other hand practically laughs in the boys face, kissing your shoulder blade just to make you squirm and hiss at him. He finds it funny that anyone would even bother to like you because he makes it so obvious that you’re his and no one else could ever have you! That’s what he thinks, of course. Yeonjun makes it a point to brag about you on purpose to Taehyun and everyone else who would listen; talking about how pretty you look when he’s fucking you, the way your eyes tear up as you gag on his dick. Yeonjun knows it makes Taehyun tick. That’s why he does it.

It’s a particular night when all the boys are together, even Taehyun, the TV playing some nonsense show that you were already forgetting. You couldn’t focus on it as Yeonjun played with your puffy, wet folds beneath the warm confines of your blanket. Your back against his firm chest, trying to regulate your breathing and stifle your moans into his arm. The other boys were either half asleep or too engrossed in the show to care. But Yeonjun catches the eye of Taehyun just as he was slipping his first finger into you, making your face scrunch and mouth fall wide. Taehyun isn’t stupid; he knows what you two are doing under the sheets, and there’s really nothing he can do about it so he bites his lip. Yeonjun only smirks and flicks his hand toward the TV, signaling to Taehyun to mind his damn business.

“Baby… almost got us caught. Little thing all pent up and whiny… shhh, Tyunnie might hear you. We can’t have that, no, no. He’d want a piece of you and I wouldn’t let him. You’re fuckin’ mine, pretty.”

𓈃 ★ SOOBIN

At first he’s calm. He barely even acknowledges the idea when Beomgyu first confessed to him about his crush on you. Soobin simply shrugs it off and tells the younger boy to not beat himself up about it, giving him a nonchalant smile and walking off. What actually makes him jealous is the sight of you and Beomgyu together; it would’ve been innocent had it not been for Beomgyu running a shy hand along your arm, then quickly wiping something from your cheek. And Soobin has no idea why he’s so angry at this. He doesn’t get jealous— it’s unlike him. But it’s you. How could he not be? The boy is quick to come between you and Beomgyu, literally squeezing his tall frame between the two of you with a phony smile towards the younger. He clicks his tongue and turns to you, as if to give a warning to Beomgyu, telling him to, respectfully, fuck off.

When Soobin tells you all of this you’re practically laughing at him. He pouts and folds his arms over his chest, sinking into the sofa. He couldn’t help it when it came to you; he just couldn’t let Beomgyu even be near you anymore. You slot yourself over his lap, tucking your cheek in his neck, still giggling at his jealousy. You’ve never seen him like this, pouty like a little kid and visibly jealous. So you decide to take the initiative and slot yourself onto his lap, holding his cheeks before kissing away the jealousy. It was fluffy and soft until the kisses got messier and he was openly panting into your open mouth, holding you down over his bulge as he whimpered nasty thinks against your lips.

“I gotta… ah, I gotta fuck you— please, baby, don’t make me beg. Ohhh, need it— no, I need you. Need to know you’re mine.

𓈃 ★ BEOMGYU

What a little monster. He makes sure everyone knows you’re his— even if that means marking your neck so hard it hurts too much to even cover in makeup, or taking you ok the bathroom corner at someone else’s house. Was it feral and maybe even a little nasty? Yes. But he was addicted to the idea of Yeonjun, his best friend who he always caught staring at you, hearing everything the two of you did. Beomgyu saw how Yeonjun stared at you, longing in his eyes and nervous breathes when you caught his gaze, giving a nonchalant smile. Beomgyu was by no means jealous, he was cocky. Which was worse for both Yeonjun and yourself.

When Beomgyu told you that you two would be spending the night at Yeonjun’s because of some video game related event, you could already sense what he was thinking. Teasing you all night, purposely showing you off, the bites and bruises upon your delicate skin. You weren’t even surprised when he spent the first 10 minutes before walking up to Yeonjun’s apartment kissing you until you were too flustered to speak coherently. When he pulled back and saw your lips red and puffy, a mess of spit on your chin, he was satisfied. But that wasn’t the end of it at all, giving you one last peck before smirking and hopping to your side to let you out. The rest of the night was spent with Beomgyu and Yeonjun on the couch, yelling at the TV screen as they lost or won. You had forgotten entirely about Beomgyu’s behavior. All up until it was time to sleep, finally. You and Beomgyu were warming up on the couch, your eyes growing heavy until you felt his hand slither down your torso and under the waistband of your panties. Yeonjun, who was just in the other room, unknowing. You protested half-heartedly, gripping his wrist as he found your cute clit, chuckling as he could practically feel the way you gushed for him. Before he sunk two fingers into your empty hole, he whispered nasty words into your ear, telling you to stay quiet or he’d stop.

“That’s it. Oh, you’re soaked, baby. No, no be quiet. Unless you want Yeonjun to hear… that’s what I thought. Imagine what he’d think if he saw you all wet and whiny for his best friend. Hah, you’re so bad at hiding how turned on you are, babe.”

𓈃 ★ TAEHYUN

When Taehyun finds out, via Yeonjun, that Kai had a massive crush on you he laughs. His younger friend has a pathetic crush on Taehyun’s oblivious girlfriend? It’s laughable. But he doesn’t make it a point to be extra touchy with you; he isn’t kissing you extra long or holding your waist a little tighter in the presence of Kai. He does, however, opt to observe the younger male. Taehyun sees how he bites his lip and puts a pillow over his crotch around you. And you were so fucking oblivious to Kai’s perverted behavior that it made Taehyun chuckle, kissing your cheek like it was a reward for being air-headed. Taehyun often finds himself getting turned on seeing someone pine over you so desperately, so shamelessly. It’s not jealousy at all; rather it’s cockiness.

It’s in the dorms when Taehyun hears the most interesting sound; what sounded to be a whiny Kai in his room— what shocks him is the fact that he’s moaning your name, the wet sound of his cock in hand making Taehyun’s eyes widen and heart race quicken. He immediately smirks, silently strutting down the hall to find you sitting unknowingly in his bed, innocently playing with your hair as he approaches with meaning in every step. You didn’t even protest when he quickly grabbed your jaw and forced your lips onto his, raking his hands up and down your waist. He’s mumbling into your mouth as he pulls you down, your bodies flat against the other as things instantly get messy. It’s like you’re floating when he doesn’t even wait a second to lift your leg over his shoulder and rub his bulge against your hot pussy. The sound of Kai in the other room isn’t as audible from where you two are; it’s just the fact that Taehyun knows what he’s doing behind those walls. Thinking about you while he gets you all to himself gives him some sort of weird power trip and all he can do is groan. You hear Kai whining behind the wall too now, and you would care if you weren’t being fucked brain dead by your possessive, perfect boyfriend.

“Babydoll, you’re all for me, yeah? Kai is in the other room thinking about you— meanwhile, I get the real fucking thing. I own this perfect pussy— it’s mine. He’s pathetic thinking about you like that, right, sweetheart?”

𓈃 ★ HUENINGKAI

Hear me out… Kai is the most jealous of them all!! Kai hates it when other men even look at you, he hates it when they stare because he knows what goes on in their brains. But it’s the worst when he finds out Soobin has the biggest crush on you; it drives him mad. Kai is a sweetheart, but he’s a jealous sweetheart. He will find ways to cut between you and Soobin if he thinks you’re getting too close. Kai will press you to his chest and even grope your ass if he’s feeling extra bold. There’s been instances when the group would hang out and Kai would whisper to you that Soobin was staring at you— to which you reply with a pitiful smile —and soon enough he’d sitting you on his lap to cover his boner. He can’t help it! All he wants to do is show him you’re his! Kai is jealous and a big pervert in situations like these. He knows it and you know it and, honestly, neither of you are ashamed.

Kai pressed you down onto the cold marble of your kitchen, his belt loop cold against your hot skin. The two of you had barely gotten into the apartment when he was kissing your neck and pulling your clothes off. It was a long night out with the rest of the boys— all of you had gone to an Internet cafe, you opting to instead sit on Kai’s lap and watch everyone play. But Kai couldn’t focus when your ass was rubbing against his cock. He is too down bad for you to not get hard the moment he feels you like that; especially when right next to the two of you sat a silently longing Soobin. His big eyes on the two of you as you squirmed on his lap. Soobin saw the way you situated yourself lewdly on Kai’s pretty thigh, hiding you flushed face in his neck as Kai silently wished for an excuse to leave with you. The worst part is Kai knew the entire time of Soobin’s wandering eye and it made the entire situation hotter, at least to him. It wasn’t a surprise when the two of you quickly ran out of the cafe, exclaiming about an emergency before you were off. But Soobin knew, he saw the entire thing! Kai pressed you harder into the marble at the thought, gritting his teeth and pressing his stomach to your back, sweat clinging to the two of you. He was nasty with his words, entailing and describing every little detail about how he wanted Soobin to watch the two of you; how he wanted to invite him over to see how good you are for him and how you could only take Kai’s cock because you’re his little slut. His perverted fantasy seems to be mutual when you squeeze around him so tight he felt suffocated.

“Oh, yeah? You like that? Soobin coming over to w-watch you get fucked? Maybe I should call him, huh? You’re so nasty, baby, love it. F-fuck, he saw how you were grinding down on me earlier, baby… he liked watching y-you like that.”

[ 𝗆．𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ] 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾：𝗂 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝟦 𝖺𝗆 𝖻𝖼 𝗂 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗅𝗆𝖿𝖺𝗈𝗈 😭

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yandere-daydreams · 4 months

Text

Title: Dragon On The Tower Roof.

Pairing: Yandere!Malleus x Reader (TWST).

Word Count: 4.2k.

TW: Fantasy AU, Mentions of Blood/Bruising, Mentions of Injury to Reader, Implied (Consensual) Sex, Possessive Behavior, and Manipulation.

Malleus met you at the base of his tower.

With a single movement of his wings, he descended from his perch and landed in front of you – placing himself between you and the stone behemoth. Had you been a more imposing figure, a knight or a prince or the general of some distant army, he would’ve cut you down the moment you entered his valley, but your only armor was a thin rucksack tunic and your only weapon was a rusted sword – the tip of its chipped blade currently planted in the ground as you struggled to keep yourself on your feet. He could smell blood on you, although he couldn’t be sure if its source was the jagged, poorly bandaged wound on your calf or the dark stains painting your humble clothes. You were clearly not a knight, much less a prince, and if you were a general, your army had abandoned you long ago. Altogether, you were not the most intimidating nuisance he had ever had to dismiss. He might’ve been grateful, had you not been a nuisance at all.

In the past, his visage alone had been enough to make even the bravest adventure abandon their quest, but your weary eyes only glazed over his black-scaled wings, his spiraling horns, the slit pupils of his unnaturally green eyes. You acknowledged him with a slight nod, putting more of your weight on your makeshift aid. “I believe I’m here to slay you, dragon.”

His greeting, likewise, came in the form of a bowed head, a narrowed gaze. “And to rescue the prince, I assume.”

You shrugged, the gesture alone threatening to cost you your balance. “I’m sure they’d prefer if I didn’t. I think they’ve got someone else for that – a lord, or maybe a king. Someone more befitting than a filthy criminal, surely.”

At that, Malleus felt the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his lips. Novelty was rare, this far into his everlasting life, and he could not say he’d ever had a prisoner sent after his head. “What sort of crime gets you sent to the lair of a monster?”

You brightened at the question. “Thievery,” you answered, pride overshadowing your exhaustion. “I could either face you or let them cut off my hands and, well, I find those to be quite essential to my burgeoning career.”

This time, you earned an airy laugh, a reflexive flick of his tail. He took another moment to evaluate you before speaking. “You are tired, thief.”

It wasn’t a question, but you answered regardless. “It was a long journey. You aren’t an easy monster to reach.”

“And injured, presumably by the fangs of some great beast of legend.”

“Right again.” You paused, then added, “If there are any legends about wolves, I mean.”

“And hungry.” Your smile fell. When you failed to respond, he went on. “May I invite you to share a meal with me before our battle?”

He watched as you swallowed, as you straightened. Your sword was pulled from the ground and allowed to hang limply at your side as you stared up at him with such a hopeful expression – his heart, had it not been so terribly calloused, might’ve broken at the sight alone. “Well,” you started, your humor gone in exchange for pure, unabashed desperation. “I suppose I can’t refuse such a kindly offered invitation.”

With no further conversation, he stepped to the side, raising his staff to the tower. After only a moment, the endless cobblestone pulled away to reveal a simple, wooded door – already open and awaiting his entry. Smiling, he motioned for you to follow him, and without protest, you obeyed.

You ate, to put it politely, like a starving animal.

There’d been an attempt at decency when you first sat down at the opposing head of his banquet table, a gallant effort to make use of the flatware arranged into neat, never-ending lines on either side of your plate, but what little energy you had for such pleasantries was depleted quickly as your attention was dedicated entirely to the whims of your empty stomach. Countless other dishes decorated the table – ranging from fine delicacies fit for the pallets of kings to common staples even the lowest of peasantry would’ve been familiar with, but Malleus was content to nurse a goblet of dark, herbed wine as he watched you bask in the feast.

Only after you’d gotten your fill did you seem to remember that you had company, your expression taking on a sheepish note. “This is what they brought me to trial for. Trespassing, I mean,” you began, and Malleus hummed in acknowledgement. “It was a baron’s manor – not quite a castle, but close to it. I heard he had the most beautiful gardens on this continent, and at the time, it seemed unreasonable to have to wait for an invitation just to take a look.”

“I thought you were a thief?”

“You must have the wrong person. I’ve been many things, but never a thief.” You leaned back in your chair. “I’m afraid I’ve always been too tender-hearted for that kind of thing. I could never stand to insult my hosts.”

“Such a considerate guest I have,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “I suppose I won’t have to worry about being robbed blind if I let you stay the night, then.”

You shook your head, feigning ego. “I would never, dear dragon. Your reclusive prince, on the other hand—”

Whatever you might’ve gone on to say was swiftly replaced with a sudden gasp as every torch within sight burst into a pillar of vicious emerald flame, casting the dining room in a blinding, sickly green before dying out just as abruptly as it’d erupted. Malleus let out an exasperated breath, bringing a hand to his temples. “My apologies. My patience has grown—” He cast a wayward glance toward the ash now seared into the stone walls, the ceiling. “—thin, over my time here.”

You allowed a beat to pass by in silence, then another. “Your prince,” you said, finally. “Is he important to you?”

“I can think of nothing I value more.” The answer came easily, even if the intensity of his sentiment surprised him. “An old friend asked me to ensure his safety. I’ve performed my role dutifully ever since.” The taste of blood rose into the back of his throat, but he drowned it out with another long sip from his goblet. “They used to send entire armies to reclaim him, then lone knights, then the occasional adventurer. You might be the first human to come seeking my head in two or three decades.”

Your smile took on a shy lilt, your eyes drifting to the table. “I wasn’t really supposed to come after you, either. Most people just take it as an exile, but they gave me a sword, and…” It was your turn to laugh, now, to be surprised with yourself. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I thought, even if I don’t get to rescue any princes, it could be nice to see how much of the fairy tale is true.”

“And you’re satisfied with what you’ve found?”

“Not entirely,” you admitted. “But I’m glad I met you, dear dragon.”

After some hesitation, he pushed himself to his feet and closed the distance between you. You stiffened, your gaze flitting blatantly toward the sole exit, but you didn’t attempt to flee as he pulled the closest seat in front of you and fell into it. “May I see your leg?”

You were far more than reluctant, but complied. The material of your travel weary trousers was pulled above your knee, the strips of fabric you’d attempted to fashion into bandages cut away with his own pitch-black talons. The wound was worse than he’d assumed, more severe than he assumed. Ragged skin stretched from your knee to your ankle, harsh puncture marks littering what little flesh was still in-tact. The stress of your journey had prevented the brunt of the damage from healing, and even without the use of his advanced senses, he would’ve been able to feel the heat radiating off of your skin, the first signs of infection beginning to set in. You were lucky you’d made it to his tower before the fever spread. His territory was cruel to the most resilient of creatures, and you seemed far from resilient.

“I have a salve in my collection that should aid in your recovery. That, paired with a few days of bed rest, should have you on your feet again in a week’s time.” Not a lie, but not far from one, either. He’d mended worse with a snap of his fingers, but there was no reason you should have to be burdened with such knowledge. “If you can find it within yourself to share a roof with a monster and delay our duel yet again, I can provide room and board while you recover.”

Your laugh was bright and strained. “You’re terribly kind to someone who came here to take your life.”

“And you’re very trusting of a creature who could easily end yours.” He let his pointed claws scrape over your bare skin, prolonging his evaluation. “Think of it as a show of my gratitude. My time here is well-spent, but tends to pass slowly. Visitors, whether benevolent or malicious, help to color my days.”

“Then I will have to be the most colorful visitor you’ve ever had,” you chimed, your grin renewed with fresh vigor. Clearly, you were not the type of mortal who could go long without a task. “I’ll make you wait on me hand and foot and bend to my every whim, until the thought of encountering another human being makes you sick. When I’m done, there might even be a dragon in this tower worth slaying.”

His only response was a steady nod, a low hum. He stood and, in the same motion, hooked one arm under the bend of your knees and another around your waist, lifting you into the air before you had the chance to so much as think to pull away. Instinctually, you attempted to re-balance yourself against him, and Malleus couldn’t help himself – laughing as he pulled you to his chest. “If I am to dote on you to the point of sickness, then let me start now. You’re in no state to walk on your own.”

You opened your mouth as if to complain, but anything you might’ve said was deemed too unimportant to warrant the effort. Your smile softened, your eyes falling shut as you rested your head against his shoulder. You lingered there, quiet and content, as he carried you through the halls of what would come to be your home.

Your prescribed period of bed rest came and went. Your bruises healed, then your leg (although you still tended to limp during particularly heavy rainstorms), and your exhaustion was replaced by a buzzing sort of restlessness. He never asked you to leave, and after some time, you seemed to stop expecting him to. You spoke rarely of your past (aside from the ever-changing series of events that led you to his tower, of course) and never of your future. When Malleus was in one of his more indulgent moods, he allowed himself to believe that, when he did catch you looking in his direction with such a glimmering worry in your eyes, you weren’t afraid of him, but of the possibility that he might send you away.

Despite your claims of spoiled houseguests and encumbered hosts, he was only driven to near-madness once while sharing your company. It’d been shortly after you instated yourself as a resident of his tower, rather than a fleeting visitor, and took to exploring your new dwelling without reservation. It’d been his own fault, really. He’d forgotten to warn you away from the upper wing, to resketch the protective runes he’d long-since allowed to fade, but such rationality had escaped him as he stood in the doorway, his mind empty and his eyes trained on your kneeling figure. He watched, paralyzed, as you raised a hand, reaching towards the marble slab, and then he was behind you – the points of his talons grazing the skin of your throat before he managed to restrain himself, curling his fist around the collar of your shirt, instead. Without warning, he hauled you off your feet, ignoring the half-choked shriek you let out in response.

His eyes fell to Silver, searching for any signs of harm, of disruption. Of course, Silver was unchanged. His colorless hair remained fanned over his velvet-cushioned pillow, the silk sheets and hand-stitched quilts still folded neatly at the foot of his bed – waiting to be put to use when the weather turned in autumn. Malleus took a moment to observe the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the gentle movement behind his closed eyes, before letting out a breath of relief and turning to you. “I don’t recall giving you permission to enter this chamber.”

“Sorry, I— I was just looking around, and I saw the flowers on the door—” Silver’s own craftsmanship, preserved from the ravages of time by Malleus’ spell work. He’d painted them as soon as he was old enough to hold a brush, along with matching murals on his bedroom walls that hadn’t survived the passing ages. “—I got curious, that’s all. Is this the prince I was sent after?”

Malleus set his jaw, straightening his hunched posture. “…it is,” he answered, eventually. He let go of your collar and let you stumble onto your feet. “His name is Silver. I never knew him by any titles.”

Malleus’ gaze shifted to you, but your eyes remained fixed on Silver. “He’s beautiful.”

Despite himself, he felt the edge of his lips turn downward. He rested a hand on your shoulder, and you seemed to recover from your daze, turning to face him with a hopeful smile. “Do you know when he’s going to wake up?”

Malleus felt a coil of heat form in the back of the throat. The taste of ash laid heavy over his tongue, but he swallowed back his guilt and forced himself to respond. “In another hundred years, perhaps,” he mused, his tone melodic and detached. “There’s no known cure for a curse like his.”

A phantom of disappointment flickered across your expression, but it was suppressed quickly. Rather, you turned your attention outward – to the heavy, woven curtains draped over each crystalline window. “Will you help me let in some light? I hate to insult your taste, but it’s terribly depressing in here, and—” You brightened, taking him by the sleeve and tugging gingerly. “We don’t want his highness to have any nightmares, do we?”

With some reluctance, Malleus nodded. “Light, but nothing else.” When you failed to acknowledge him, he caught you by the wrist, squeezing with just enough pressure for your smile to falter. “Light, but nothing else. Do you understand?”

Your eyes darted back to Silver, but only for a moment. He was thankful for that – for your restraint. A second longer, and his true nature might’ve overshadowed his better judgement. “Of course, dear dragon. Nothing else.”

He inhaled sharply, then let go of you altogether.

It was a choice that, in the approaching months, he would only come to regret.

“This is what they banished me for, you know.”

“This?”

“Yes, this exactly.” You propped your chin on his chest, positioning yourself to more easily card your fingers through his hair. He let his eyes fall shut, basking in the warmth of your affection, of your bare skin pressed into his. Your clothes laid discarded on the grass around you, one of his wings bent and raised to shield you from the harsh light of the setting sun. He would have to get you back to the tower, soon. He’d always been indifferent to the deadly chill of night, but you – in your precious, delicate mortality – were not so durable. “Actually, not quite – I don’t think I ever made it to this part. It was the first time I’d ever attended a royal ball, and I happened to dance with a young lady so breath-taking, I couldn’t help but drop to one knee and dedicate my heart to her the moment our hands touched.” You sighed, feigning remorse. “Little did I know that she was the princess that ball was being thrown for, and so moved by my passion, she refused to let me out of her embrace until I agreed to marry her. Of course, her father – the king, as the fathers of princesses tend to be – couldn’t have that. It’s a shame, really. We would’ve made a gorgeous couple.”

Malleus pursed his lips, fighting back a smile. “And what does that make me? The next scorned lover of a silver-tongued rouge?”

“Oh, no. If you asked me to marry you,” You propped yourself up, pressing a kiss into the curve of his jaw. “There’d be nothing in the world that could stop me, dear dragon.”

Your hand fell to his cheek, and wistfully, you lulled him into a kiss – shallow but lingering, punctuated with a playful nip at his bottom lip. You pulled back with a smile, another quick peck to his cheek. You moved to say something, but he interrupted you, as mournful as he was to cut off such a precious moment so callously. “I found your wildflowers.”

Immediately, your expression fell. “I made sure not to—”

“I know, beloved, I know.” You knew better than to lay a hand on Silver. Your small bouquet had been left on the corner of his bed, another additional chain of asters and lavender braided into one of the longer strands of his waist-length hair. As much as he wished he could say he was only concerned for Silver’s well-being, it wouldn’t have been the truth. Something else, something darker, had accompanied the discovery – something it would be better for you to stay ignorant of. “We’ve talked about this. Silver is vulnerable, in his current condition. Even the simplest luxury is an unspeakable risk.”

Your shoulders dropped, your body going slack against his. You bowed your head, burying your face in the dip of his shoulder, and despite his frustration with you, he didn’t push you away. “I’m sorry. It just feels so cruel to let him suffer alone.”

“He’s never been alone.” His tone was more curt than he’d meant it to be. “He’s always had me.”

“I know, but—” He expected you to raise your hair, to flash him that brilliant grin. Instead, you only settled against him, speaking softly into the crook of his neck. “He just seems so sad.”

Malleus took a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut.

Then, before he could let himself think better of it, he wrapped an arm around your waist. In one fluid motion, he turned you over – leaving you on your back, one of his knees planted on either side of your waist, your form tucked safely underneath his. His kiss was less gentle than your own – that deep, aching sort of hunger overwhelming his cautiousness as his tongue raked over yours, as he groaned unabashedly into your mouth. You returned his affection emphatically; your fingers soon knotted in his hair, your eager touch preventing so much as the thought of distance between your body and his. Because there never would be distance between you and him. Because there was no reason you should ever have to be taken away from him.

Hours later, when the last traces of light had faded and the stars were painted in swirling patterns across the sky, he would carry you back to his tower – unconscious and pliable in his arms. That would be the first night you spent in his bed, and as he laid there with you, he couldn’t help but imagine how wonderful it would be if you never left.

The runes carved into Silver’s door were redrawn, Malleus’ enchantments refreshed, and your bittersweet sympathy slowly rotted into a distinctly bland melancholy. You didn’t speak of him (Malleus could only wonder how you ever managed to speak of anyone when so many of his marks so often decorated your skin), but he noticed new scratches around the well-rusted lock on Silver’s door, caught you braiding chains of daisies and crowns of marigolds with no intended recipient in mind, and at night, you tended to slip out of his hold and wander. Sometimes, he waited for you, lying awake as you hunted for whatever solace there was to find in the empty halls of an ancient tower. Most nights, tonight, he chased after you.

He found you in a window near the tower’s highest room, laid across the wooden sill, your back propped against the empty frame. He didn’t ask to join you – wordlessly lowering himself to the floor at your feet. As if by reflex, your hand fell to his horns, your thumb tracing over a particular ridge near the base as you broke the quiet. “Have ever told you why I’m here, dear dragon?”

Countless times, but he still played along. “Who has my heart been stolen by today, beloved?”

“A murderer,” you said, hollowly. “And not a particularly clever one, at that.”

He waited for you to go on, to spin some elaborate tale of love and loss and betrayal and poor humor, but you only lapsed back into silence, your gaze turning back to the pitch-black valley. He watched your vacant expression for a moment, then another before letting his eyes fall shut and resting his cheek against your thigh.

Malleus had expected there to be more anger than this.

You were in a similar position to one you’d taken the first time you stumbled into Silver’s chambers – kneeling beside his marble bed, your ever-weary eyes fixed on the unknowing object of your adoration. The only difference was that, today, Silver’s hand was raised to your lips, now slightly parted in shock. He didn’t have to guess at the source of your astonishment. In front of you, Silver was sitting up. His posture was unsteady, his eyes barely open, but the obvious was undeniable.

He was awake.

To think, there was something of merit to Lilia’s stories of true love after all.

Rather than anger, rage, pure and undiluted fury, an odd sort of calm settled over his blank mind as you snapped in his direction. Your astonishment turned to horror in an instant. “Malleus, I didn’t— I was only trying to—”

He put you out of your mercy quickly. He raised his staff and, propelled by some unseen force, you were torn away from Silver’s bedside and thrown against the nearest walls – the force of the collision far from fatal, but enough to leave you limp and unconscious. With your safety ensured, he stepped forward, approaching Silver. He was awake, but only just. So many decades of uninterrupted sleep would not be so willing to release him from their taloned clutches without a struggle, and there was a certain dream-like lull to the way his eyes skirted over the limited scenery before settling on Malleus, his features immediately softening in relief. “Malleus?”

“I’m here.” Malleus allowed himself a small smile before bringing the end of his staff to Silver’s forehead. “You can rest, brother.”

There was just enough time for the edges of Silver’s lips to turn downward before he collapsed back onto the marble slab. Malleus would arrange him later on. For now, his attention turned to you.

He gathered your crumpled form in his arms and carried you through the halls of his lonely tower, before stepping into the clear air and fresh heat of the valley. He laid you in the tall grass and, after taking a moment to appreciate your peaceful expression, brought a hand to your face, cupping your cheek tenderly. The spell came to him instinctually, but he took his time, mourning the loss of your time together with each mumbled word. That was a silver-lining of immortality, though. Infinite time allowed for infinite repetition, and he couldn’t imagine giving up the opportunity to fall in love with you again.

When he was done, your eyes fluttered open, a smile quickly finding its way to your lips. “Hello, dragon.” You gazed darted to either side nervously, your mind struggling to catch up with your clever tongue. “I would love to introduce myself, but it’s the funniest thing – I can’t seem to remember what I’m doing here.”

He bit back a smile. You tried to force yourself into a more dignified position, but barely managed to get an arm underneath you before pausing, wincing, reaching for the back of your head and coming away with blood smeared across your fingertips. Malleus did what he could to hide his delight.

“You’re a thief. You injured yourself attempting to scale my tower. It was an impressive effort, but tragically unnecessary.”

This time, he couldn’t hide the wide, simpering grin that came to rest across his lips.

“I was always going to invite you inside.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #yandere twisted wonderland #twst x reader #yandere twst #twst imagines #malleus x reader #yandere malleus #yanderecore #yancore

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planet-dusk · 5 months

Note

Mirror sex with Hyunjin!! Being able to see his gorgeous face while he fucks you from the back, he's so pretty😩‼️

🏷️ hwang hyunjin x fem!reader. cw ; dom!hyunjin, fuckboy!hyunjin, mirror sex ofc, unprotected sex, dubcon elements, degradation, dirty talk abt forced breeding, pet names: doll, name calling: slut, whore ( 576 w. )

minors dni. for mature audiences only !

“would you look at that, doll. prettier than any picture.”

he was, of course, referring to the way his cock slid in and out of your slick cunt. his eyes hadn’t left the sight since he’d first buried himself into your tight heat. but your gaze was focused on his face instead: his perfect profile, beautiful features twisted in pleasure.

black strands of hair stuck to his damp skin. if it wasn’t for his large hand pressing down between your shoulder blades you’d attempt to twist around and lick the sharp slant of his jawline.

“filthy slut, letting me hit it raw.” hyunjin punctuated his words with a slap to your ass. you clenched around his cock, every ridge and vein causing delicious friction. you knew he was a fuckboy and you should know better than to have him use you like this… but the memory of his gorgeous face lighting up when he spilled onto your back was enough to throw all care out of the window again.

“bet you wouldn’t even protest if i didn’t pull out.” he wrapped an arm around your torso and lifted you up, your sweaty back pressed against his chest. the change in angle and the risqué suggestion had you gush around him. hyunjin laughed. “i knew it. sluts like you get their brains fucked out once and they turn into cum-hungry whores. what do you think, should i give you what you want?”

“n-no,” you stammered, just lucid enough to know this would be a terrible idea, ignoring the spark of heat in your tummy rearing its ugly head.

hyunjin hummed and grabbed your chin, tilting your face towards the mirror.

“do you see my cock? see how wet it is? that’s all on you, doll. you wanted this.”

heat flooded your cheeks at the sight of your bodies tangled together. hyunjin slowed down, pulling out as far as he could. his impressive length glistened with your juices. even if you hadn’t been able to see it the wet sounds would’ve told you enough. you were thoroughly soaking him.

“hyune, we shouldn’t…“

“we shouldn’t. but we can.”

his hand slipped down to rub circles on your clit, your trembling body fidgeting in his tight grip. for the first time you wished he wasn’t this perceptive. regretted how he could read your body so well. how he left no doubts about feeling your orgasm approaching fast.

“your mouth’s saying something different than this tight pussy’s telling me.” hyunjin’s hand around your chin moved down to your throat, fingers flexing in time with the fluttering of your cunt around him. “so who’s speaking the truth?”

“hyun-ah!” you managed to whimper before his fingers found their way into your mouth, effectively silencing your pleading no’s. the twitching of his cock inside you told you he was close, too. it was that thought — the idea of his cum filling you up and leaking down your trembling legs — that pushed you over the edge.

one, two, three, four thrusts. hyunjin pulled out, white ropes of cum painting your lower back as he stroked himself to completion, your empty pussy clenching around nothing.

a pang of disappointment rekindled the heat in your gut, embarrassment mixing with the afterglow of your fading orgasm. hyunjin’s dark eyes found yours in the mirror. a smug grin now graced his features and he nipped at your earlobe, his breath hot on your skin.

“thought so.”

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crvptidgf · 1 month

Text

Don’t Tell Your Brother

Rafe Cameron x Reader

➸ summary: you’re sick of keeping your relationship a secret, but rafe isn’t so sure about outing it yet

➸ warnings/notes: mentions of sex but nothing explicit, reader is fem

word count: 1.3k

————————

IF THERE WAS one thing Rafe was good at it was keeping secrets. Whether it be for his father, Barry - or even sometimes Wheezie. He was a master at it, which is probably why he found this arrangement so easy.

It wasn’t that he liked keeping you hidden. It was more that it was necessary. Your brother wouldn’t take too kindly to the kook prince “corrupting” his only sister. Plus, a part of him kind of loved sneaking around and having you all to himself (something he would never openly admit to).

Rafe listened to your heavy breathing as he brushed his fingertips across your shoulder blade. Before he met you he would’ve never been caught dead cuddling with anyone; but that was what he liked about you. You pushed his boundaries (within reason) and forced him to see new perspectives. To become better.

Lifting your flushed face to meet his, you decided to break the silence. “Rafe?”

He shifted his gaze from the ceiling to your expectant eyes. He could never get enough of how you looked in bed with him, your hair wild and your eyes glazed over as your spent body curled into his. You were breathtaking.

“Hm?” he responded.

“Will it always be like this?”

Rafe took in your glistening skin and furrowed brows. If you hadn’t been asking him a question he probably would’ve occupied his mind with counting every mark and blemish on your face instead of listening.

“Like what?” he finally asked. He already knew where this was going. Sometimes he just liked to prolong the inevitable by acting clueless - because occasionally you would give up and switch the conversation to something more lighthearted.

“Rafe,” you groaned. “I mean all this pretending we’re doing. I hate acting like I hate you in front of John B.”

Your boyfriend sighed, dejection taking over his once calm features. When you first met him you never ever thought you could be the source of his peace, much less the one to turn him into a ball of domestic mush.

“Baby,” he started to say.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me. You’re not getting out of this one so fast,” you quickly interrupted, already knowing his tricks to try and distract you.

Rafe merely rolled his eyes as his hand lowered to squeeze your waist. “Okay, okay.”

Another sigh.

“What are you in such a rush for, anyway?” he asked, his ringed digits coming to rub at the buzzed hair on his scalp. “You were the one who wanted us to keep this from them.”

You rested your head in your palm now, elbow digging into Rafe’s impossibly soft mattress. He had offered to buy you one for your room after you complained about how much comfier his bed was - but ultimately you had to refuse. There would be too many lingering questions about how you could afford such a luxury.

Truthfully that was one of the hardest things Rafe had to grapple with. He couldn’t spoil you like he wanted to without causing alarm bells to sound in all of the pogue’s minds.

“I know. And you were the one who was against it. Why’re you so adamant on the secrecy now?”

A small glint sparkled in his eye.

“You don’t think it’s hot?”

It was your turn to sigh and roll your eyes. This man always found a way to make things dirty, even when the situation was far from it. “Are you really this horny after all that?” you asked, referring to the several exhaustive minutes you guys just spent in too many positions to count.

“What?” he queried, feigning innocence. “You don’t think all the fake hate act is hot? I like seeing you get all riled up knowing that I’m still the only one who gets to take you home that night.”

Goddamnit he was good at distracting you.

“Rafe,” you all but whined as you dropped your head into the crook of his neck, “I’m serious.”

Hands caressed the back of your head, petting your unruly hair down. “So am I.”

Your hand rested on his naked chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. There was something so relaxing and homely about this. Both of you entangled in each other under Rafe’s sheets, your hands roaming over every body part you could reach, your breaths harmonizing into one. If only this was a common occurrence - not just in the confines of his bedroom at 1 in the morning.

“You’re thinking again,” stated the man bluntly. “Don’t.”

“I should get back soon.”

Sitting up you began to look around the room, attempting to find any of your discarded items and clothes. If you left now you could still get some sleep before everybody back at home woke up.

“C’mon don’t be like that,” Rafe said as he grabbed your wrist.

You shook your head in disbelief. “Be like what? If you want this charade to keep going I have to get home.”

“Just tell them you were with-“

“With who, Rafe? Who can I force to lie for me this time?”

You knew it was unfair to get mad at him, but you just wanted to be able to stay at your boyfriend’s house without stress for once. This was getting tiring and you didn’t understand how Rafe couldn’t see it.

Pulling your underwear up your legs you moved to stand up. “I know it was my idea in the first place - but I didn’t think we’d keep it going for so long.”

Your boyfriend only watched as you paced around, grabbing your bra and t-shirt off the floor. “And anyway it’s none of anyone’s business who I date. I don’t know why I cared to start with,” you mumbled.

He knew you were frustrated. Sometimes he felt that way too, but seeing how many things you and your brother had to worry about back at the Chateau, he didn’t wanna add to it by exposing your ongoing relationship so soon.

“Hey listen,” he said, trying to gain your attention.

When you didn’t so much as spare a glance at him, he rubbed his eyes in annoyance. So stubborn.

“Babe, listen. C’mere.”

Still nothing.

Standing up from the bed, he grabbed you by the waist and threw you over his shoulder. It was a shockingly common occurrence. You would ignore him during an argument or disagreement and he would get sick of it and carry you to bed where he’d force you to talk it out. He insisted that he hated when you ‘sulked’.

“Rafe! Put me down!”

You landed on the bed with a bounce, your shirt half on your body and your bra still clutched in your hand. Rafe grabbed it and threw it off the bed.

His hands were at either side of your head. In any other situation you’d have started jumping his bones. These thoughts left your mind as Rafe’s next words left his mouth.

“We can tell them - if you promise to let me help you with the rent this month.”

Of course he would have some sort of stupid bargain for this agreement.

“No I can’t ask you to-“

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

He could tell you were thinking about it, weighing your options. If he could pay for this, maybe John B wouldn’t be such a pain in the ass when the eventual news came out. Perhaps he’d see how serious Rafe was about you.

Well, also, he just liked to spoil you.

You groaned. “Fine.”

With a kiss on the lips, the deal was sealed. “But only for that month, right?” you asked in between the final kiss.

Rafe nodded, letting you believe you were in control of this. What he didn’t clue you in on, however, is that he fully planned for you to move in with him after your next due date was paid. He figured he could let the surprise wait.

“Yes. But for now lemme just have you to myself,” he muttered against your collarbone.

Maybe getting home could wait for now.

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stevebabey · 10 months

Text

totally didn’t expect the other part to do well at all but 😳 apparently i don’t know steddie fans. as such, have a part two <3 part one is here again, look out for the borrowed hunger games lines

“You’ve ruined your life, you know that, right?”

The kitchen had been basking in the lull of the quiet morning before Eddie had spoken up, breaking the silence. Steve blinks, realising he’s been zoned out staring at the swirling bubbles atop his mug of coffee and look up at Eddie across the table.

“Doing what you did.” Eddie continues. There’s this slight in his voice. Steve figures it’s not really aimed at him.

Chief Powell had agreed to not release the details of the case to the public for obvious reason. However, it went without saying that of the cops working the case, not all would be so free-thinking. There were plenty who deemed leaking the alibi and letting the town devour Steve’s reputation a more than fair consequence.

And, well, Eddie didn’t have any reputation left to tarnish or save.

Steve takes a sip of his coffee and lets the warm flavour coat his tastebuds as he tries to puts his thoughts in the right order.

He knows how Eddie sees this— sees it as this burden that he’s imposed on Steve’s life. That he had been able to accept it at first, the whispers of freedom tempting enough that he could be selfish enough to gasp them.

Then yesterday afternoon, Steve had come back from Bradley’s Big Buy with dried yolks splattered across the windscreen and regret howled through Eddie like a hurricane, fierce and wild. Realisation of what Steve had condemned himself to— no- what Eddie had condemned him to finally sunk in.

Steve can tell he’s been stewing on it all night. In the couple weeks he’s been here, staying in under the Harrington roof just down the hall from Steve, he’s surprised by how easily his brain has tacked on to Eddie’s habits. His little Eddie-ism’s. That’s what Steve calls them.

Like how Eddie’s nose will twitch if there’s something on his plate he doesn’t like, but he’s too polite to say it.

How he thumbs up and down the edge of a book when he’s reading, completely entranced. Doesn’t even notice his moving, twittering fingers.

How he’s always so much twitchier the morning after a sleep laced with terror after terror. It gives him away before Steve even see the bags under his eyes, the hollowness of his face.

Steve recognises that one from himself, from back when he’d gone through it all for the first time. The flinch is unshakeable when you’re convinced it’s all going to come back— that the world is going to tear itself up and spit out monsters you haven’t even dreamed of.

Today, Eddie isn’t twitchy like that. He’s tired, a sunken in face that comes from a bone-deep aching tiredness. He picks at his breakfast, bitterly avoiding the eggs on his plate.

And Steve can’t pretend to understand how Eddie grew up — can take his guesses but ultimately won’t get near the experiences he knows Eddie has lived through. Steve has only ever been on the other side. Stayed silent while someone else through snide comments and used the word fag like a jagged blade, to cut someone down.

So, he doesn’t know. Not even a year with Robin as his best friend and all her knowledge could’ve prepared Steve for the startling fear he’d felt when coming out of the store to the sight of a group of boys around his car, cartons of eggs in hand. One with a crowbar.

They would’ve smashed his windows if he had come out a minute later, he’s sure of it.

It had been like getting doused in icy water — the Letterman jackets on all of them, the sneers, still jeering taunts as they’d scattered across the parking lot. Steve had felt the bile rise in his throat as he got in the car and sat, staring at the steering wheel, his slimy fear melting and mixing with his anger.

Eddie’s point of view suddenly resounded within Steve in a way he hadn’t known before. Standing on tables, hollering about conformity, leaning in to every foul rumour about him— like a person drawing to full height, making himself as big as possible, to scare off a bear.

Steve gets that a little more now.

So, when Eddie tells him you’ve ruined your life he knows what he’s trying to tell him. Except, Steve doesn’t know how to say lightly that he’d gladly ruin his life to save Eddie’s. It’s too much — but Steve always is. Always loves in these big heavy ways that are too hard to handle.

So instead, he shrugs and says, “Consider it a trade.”

Eddie cocks his head, like a dog, just an inch.

“For following me into the lake and saving my life.”

Eddie scoffs and his head lolls back dramatically like what Steve’s said is ridiculous. “Jesus H Christ, dude, you saved yourself. I told you that I would’ve been too cowardly to come after you if Birdie and Wheeler hadn’t gone in first.”

He mutters the word cowardly with a hiss.

“Well then, a trade for drawing the bats away.”

“You mean the time I nearly became hamburger helper for the bats?”

“Christ, Eddie,” Steve scoffs. “I didn’t take you as someone who fished for compliments so hard.”

Eddie frowns, dropping his fork with a clatter on his plate. “I— what? I’m not- I don’t even—”

Steve cuts in. “You helped us and you saved my life, whether your horrible little brain can admit that or not. So,” He sits back in his chair with another little shrug and sips his coffee. “Equal trade.”

Eddie frowns, a crease forming between his brows. “No, not equal, Steve. You don’t get what you’ve done you— ugh, you just don’t—”

He huffs, cutting himself off, clearly unsure of how to voice his frustrations. He slumps back in his chair and eyes the eggs on his plate again with a glare this time.

Steve waits a moment and hopes he isn’t overstepping when he says, voice quiet, “I know, Eddie.”

Across the table, Eddie’s eyes raise to meet Steve’s and he doesn’t sound smug, he doesn’t sound angry, he just sounds defeated when he speaks.

“Do you?”

“Maybe not quite the extent of it until yesterday but, yes… I know.”

His words sink it and Eddie looks… affronted. His eyes get a little wide and a tremble finds his lips. Like the whole time he’d been convinced Steve wasn’t sure what he’d been getting into, that the reality hadn’t set in— that any moment he would rescind his alibi and throw Eddie to the cops and let them snap the cuffs back on him.

Steve hates that expression. Loathes that Eddie is so surprised that anyone would do this for him — something as important as keeping him alive and out of prison. Steve hates it because he knows it means that somewhere along the way, somebody had convinced Eddie that nobody would.

So, if he’s got to be the one to convince Eddie that someone will— that he will make the effort, will put his neck on the line because… well, isn’t that what Steve does best?

He’ll do it gladly.

Eddie picks up his fork and stabs his fork into the egg, the buttery yolk spilling onto the plate. Steve takes it as a truce, as him meeting him in the middle.

"So,” Steve swirls the mug in his hand and swills another sip back. Swallows it and takes a page out of Eddie’s book and goes the joke, leaning forward, forearms on the table. “If I’m gonna be your boyfriend for the foreseeable future I should probably know more stuff about you. Y’know, like, uh, the deep stuff.”

Eddie’s sunk back down in his seats but at Steve’s final sentence, he perks up. A smirking sort of grin crossing his face and Eddie twists a piece of his hair in front of his mouth. He hasn’t kept eating yet, too focused on the conversation.

"Uh-oh, the deep stuff.” He’s got that teasing tone in his voice. “Like what?"

"Like...” Steve scrambles to pull something from his brain. “Um, what’s your favourite colour?"

“Oh well, now you've stepped over the line."

Eddie’s sarcasm melts into a chuckle as Steve laughs, ducking his head instinctively. When he lifts his gaze, he’s relieved that Eddie looks a little lighter. Not much but a smidge of difference — Steve can see it if he squints. He’s sure it won’t be the last conversation they’ll have about this but for now, it’s settled.

Curiosity piques in Steve and he tries to sound casual when he says, “No, really, what is it?”

Eddie blinks and curls his hair around his finger once more, tugging it lightly. He seems to be considering his answer, eyes dropping to the sweater Steve’s donning.

“Yellow.” He finally says. “Not mustard but, y’know, lighter. Colour of the moon on Halloween or…”

“Cheese?” Steve suggests.

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, the right kind of cheese, sure. What about you? Favourite colour?”

Steve considers it — for the longest time, it had been red because Tommy had told him that red or blue were the coolest colours to like, way back in third grade. No one has asked him since then.

“Pink, actually.” Steve admits, hand coming up to brush across his nose, trying to hide behind the motion. He envies Eddie’s long curls suddenly. He feels the need to explain, more words rolling off his tongue. “Like, y’know, when the sun starts to set, like all dusky, it’s just… nice.”

Eddie’s staring at him peculiarly, his lips parted yet quirked up in this faint smile. If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d call it awe. Breaking his stare, Eddie chuckles again, finally properly picking his fork up to finish his meal.

“Steve Harrington.” He murmurs warmly, more to himself. His lips twitch with a smile. “You just keep surprising me.”

—

some people wanted more 🤲 uh get tagged idiot - normally i don’t do taglists but u were all so kind as to reply to the post & i didn’t get a chance to say thank u for ur lovely words! this is my thank u! have sum more!

@friendlyorange @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @lostinadmiration @life-love-musicaltheatre @oldlovershippiemusic5 @phoeniceae @catateme9 @lolawonsstuff @justagaypanda @pluto-pepsi @whoopstie @scenesofobx @justforthedead89 @musical-theatre-gay @theperksofbeingstjimmy @ikilledabuginthewall @imauselessartist @fridgebaby @lingeringmirth and uhhh @corrodedcoughin cos i still do a little squeal when u rb my tings even tho we’re mewchies :D

#ignoring the other characters rn lmao #i wrote it in a day. Sue me #something about like eddie being convinced that steve Doesn’t Understand #cos if he did he wouldn’t have done this!!#and steve being like i know eddie… i know #I Knew It And I Did It Anyways #steve’s puts-himself-on-the-line selflessness vs. eddie disbelieving he’s worth it #[street fighter voice] FIGHT!#uhhhhh does baby boy steve even know he likes men yet? probably notttt #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#ruby writes steddie #steve x eddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie hurt/comfort

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dollwrites · 7 months

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𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, orgasm control, yandere!ace with a possessive streak, mentions of marking and tattoos and violence, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day twenty-seven [ portgas d ace + being possessive ]

“I—“ it was hard to speak. not only was it hard to collect your thoughts and file them into a coherent sentence because it seemed like each, sharp snap of Ace’s hips pounded your brain to mush, but it was difficult to form the syllables with his fingers in your mouth. the first two digits on either hand, hooked into the fleshiest sections of your cheeks, stretching your mouth into an otherwise impossible shape. drool oozed from your pressurized couplet, leaving your chin sparkling, and your words came out slurred. “G—gonna cum!”

you hear him grunt from behind you. no doubt, it’s a reaction to the way your walls constrict against his cock. you always got so tight right before you came, like you were trying to swallow him up. usually, he would brace himself with his palms against your ass and push your face into the pillow, but not this time. “Not yet,” he rasped into your ear, “tell me whose it is.”

your eyelids flutter. your lips were sore from being stretched so wide. your thighs tremble every time his heavy balls smacked against you.

he was telling you no, not to cum, but he wasn’t taking any of the pleasure away, which made it extra difficult to comply.

“Whose is it?”

as if that question wasn’t already answered one thousand times over. everything about your formal self has been stripped. none of the crew referred to you by name, only by ‘Ace’s Girl’. your skin was inked permanently with his name for all to see, and even now— as he fucked you stupid, his had was draped askew on your head. you always smelled of him, and if you didn’t, well it wouldn’t be long before he marked you again. more often than not, he’d drag you on deck and fuck you in front of the rest of the crew until you were babbling and drooling and singing his name, just to remind them that you were his and only his.

all of those contingencies aside, even, you were fiercely loyal to Ace and even accepted your role. the way he possessed you, the way his face reddened up when he caught someone even looking in your direction, the way that he would kick the shit out of anyone that dared lay a hand on you. it turned you on. “Y—yours—“ you choked out, happily. you were certain that one syllable word would persuade him to let you chase your high into the sunset, but you feel his fingers slip from your mouth. calloused palms cradle your soft cheeks as he pulls your head further back, craning your neck until you were bent in an S shape. his hat slides from your head to hang against your back between your shoulder blades, the strings resting against your throat. and you let out a moan, looking up to the ceiling.

“Damn right!”

“Don’t look away,” Ace pants, giving your face a squeeze. “You know I hate it when you do that. Me. Focus on me, baby.”

you do as you’re told, your gaze hazy, but you try to focus on his figure looming over you. it would’ve been hard enough had you simply had to battle the way your body ragdolled underneath him, but your vision was blurry from your heavy lids trying to close.

“Attagirl,” Ace moans in approval, one thumb tracing your bottom lip as your jaw hangs slack. you would’ve been embarrassed at the amount of shiny drool that dribbled onto it if he hadn’t poked the digit into your mouth only moments later, “don’t let those pretty eyes close. Not even they cross. Not even if they wanna roll back in your head. Look at me,” Ace grunts and snorts like a beast, rutting into you rough and deep, “o-only at… me…”

“Ace, h—holy shit!” you cry out, “I need to cum, please! I can’t— can’t hold it anymore!”

Ace grins. it’s a crooked, weak smirk, but it paints his otherwise strained face, and sweat beads against his temples, sticking raven tendrils to his forehead. “Fuck, you feel good.” he barks. his own eyes start to droop, his eyeline flickering from your gaze, down to your lips, where you’ve started to nibble haplessly against his thumb, and then back up. he locked back on to your eyes, pouring every ounce of infatuation he had for you into his staring. “My girl, so tight and warm and all for me, right?” you nod, eyes crossed as you struggle to keep them open. but his were hypnotic. “No one else can ever feel this. No one else can ever have you. Who do you belong to?”

you were shaking with desire, teeth dug into the pad of his thumb as you finally reach your boiling point. “A—Ace!!”

Ace nods, and pulls you closer, dipping down to smear his lips over your swollen ones in a sloppy, heavy-breathed kiss that leaves you mewling and needy to taste more. “Then cum, baby, let the whole crew hear you scream my name this time.”

#ace #ace x reader #ace x you #ace smut #portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas ace smut #portgas d ace smut #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece smut

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merbear25 · 18 days

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Having a spicy dream about you

You'd crept your way into their minds when they were at their most vulnerable―sound asleep. Your captivating nature seduced them in their dreams, leaving their bodies susceptible to the aftermath in reality.

CW: SFW but very suggestive (wet dreams), gn!reader

Monster trio

Luffy: indulging in a celebratory feast, he imagined you there by his side sharing laughs and fun stories with everyone. Having an abundance of food splayed out for you, stuffing his face with whatever he grabbed, your hand got caught in the crossfire. Nearly shoving your hand into his mouth, the bonk you gave him on the head snapped him out of it. The short fit of bickering that followed somehow morphed the scenery to only the two of you; everyone else was gone and you two were starting to lightly poke at each other’s sides, which led to tickling and eventually had him fully on top of you.

Clanking from the kitchen broke his spell and the seductive aroma of breakfast fully got his attention. Marching into the kitchen with his belly empty and his smile full, his grin was turned upside down when his eyes fell on you. Bits from his dream were hazy, yet those parts at the end with you were the most prominent.

When you greeted him, he simply stared at you, trying to force those remnants of you deep into the crevices of his mind. Taking his seat, you were rightfully confused and taken aback by his coldness but decided to drop it. In doing so, you never found out what his deal was, but even if you had grilled him, he would’ve taken it to his grave.

Zoro: Giving each swing his all against each foe that threw themselves at him, he wasn’t even breaking a sweat. Failing to live up to their reputation, the clan cowered, but that was until their leader, who’d scurried off earlier, came back with you in chains. Trying to get the upper hand, they’d sealed their fate, for the wielded blades came crashing down on the empire they’d been building. With you having been terrified for your life, you wanted nothing more than to thank your hero. He was feeling particularly self-indulgent and allowed himself to get lost in the pleasures you were so willing to give.

Seconds before the dream progressed, a large wave crashing against the side of the ship jolted him awake. Wide-eyed at the lude subcontext, he couldn’t do much for a moment other than blink. Shaking off the thoughts of where the dream was heading, he wiped the sleep from his eyes. The sun was blinding, so he didn’t notice you approaching him.

“Hm?” He glared at your muffled yapping.

“I said your back’s all wet!” You laughed off his rigidness, since he looked rather silly sitting with a grumpy face and soaked in sea water.

Brushing off your giggles, he avoided eye contact. He didn’t want to be reminded of how he’d pictured you in his dream. You could expect the rest of the day to play out like this: minimal, mostly one-sided, conversations. He had no intention of telling you about his dream and would rather shove it away, so as not to die of embarrassment.

Sanji: The sea breeze had just picked up as the setting sunlight casted upon your face—your beauty only rivaled by the gods. You'd just pulled out of a steamy kiss, your taste still lingering on his lips. Looking deep into each other's eyes, you motioned your head lower. Vision blurring from your generosity, a loud crash from the kitchen rudely awoke him.

Jolting awake, he was still in a daze. Shouting came from the kitchen, making him roll his eyes at the assumption that Luffy had something to do with the commotion. Peering down, a wet patch had started seeping on the covers. Throwing on the first pair of pants he saw, he waited for the redness in his face to subside before venturing outside his room.

If it were any other day, he’d be thrilled to see your lovely face. You were still as gorgeous as ever, although it was torment to gaze at you with such thoughts of ‘if only’ still stampeding through his fantasies. Feeling as if he’d brought shame to you, he wasn’t the most talkative the first half of the day. When you asked what was wrong, he may or may not tell you…depending solely on how you approached this situation.

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majestyeverlasting · 1 year

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Just Another Friday Night

This piece contains 18+ content and explores the idea of Eddie as a soft dom.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie Munson's been your best friend since fifth grade. And on a night you think is going to pass just like any other, you realize you can't keep running from the way you feel.

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: I hath returned. So excited to finally have this one out for you guys! Hopefully the person who requested this many moons ago is still somewhere in my orbit.

As soon as Eddie feels the pad of your finger meet the skin of his cheek, his lips curl into a soft smile. It brings small lines to the corners of his eyes and reveals the glint of his teeth in the dim light. Concentration sparkles in your eyes like water does beneath the moon.

Both of you are seated on his messy bed. Him with his legs falling over the edge, and you angled towards him with your legs crossed. His breaths are steady, fingers lax from no longer strumming the strings of his guitar.

When you finally manage to collect the fallen eyelash from his cheek, you hold out your pointer finger for him to see. If you’d been focussed on the song he was playing rather than studying his face, you never would’ve noticed the tiny hair to begin with.

“M’kay.” His eyes flick back up to meet yours. “Now what?”

You raise your finger closer to his lips. “You’ve got a wish to make.”

If there was anyone deserving of one, it was him. It had been almost a year since he crawled out of the Upside Down by the skin of his teeth. Half alive. You remembered all the long nights you’d spent by his hospital bed as he recovered.

An air of weightlessness washes over both of you after Eddie blows it off your finger. As if somewhere far away, the course of time and happenings shifted in his favor.

“You can finish your song now. Sorry.” Smiling shyly, you tuck your hands into your lap and wiggle to get comfortable.

He smiles wider, but makes a quick work of tampering it back down.

When he begins playing, you make sure to focus this time, letting the music soak in and flow through you. The passion is palpable, along with the underlying sense of purpose that hangs off the tail end of each resonant note.

You’d been around to listen to him since the days he played off-tune chords with unsteady hands. As he sat playing now, hair curtained around his face, you knew he could easily captivate thousands if given the chance.

As the song winds to an end, he looks at you and his fingers slow as the notes dissolve between you. The only thing left for you to do is applaud. Your approval makes him feel like there’s electricity buzzing beneath his veins.

He absentmindedly strums a few quiet notes to keep his fingers busy, eyes remaining on you. “You’re the first person to hear it all the way through.”

“Really? I loved it.” Honesty drips like honey from your words.

He looks down to the fingerboard so you don’t see the faint flush of his cheeks. “Thanks. Lotta practice.”

When he stands to hang his guitar back on the wall, you watch the way his shoulder blades shift under his t-shirt. You don’t mean to look as hard as you do. There was something captivating about the way he moved. Some days, he couldn’t sit still, but there were also nights like this one where he seemed to have embodied the very essence of ease.

“So are you gonna add it to your setlist?”

He doesn’t answer right away, making sure Sweetheart is mounted securely.

“Maybe after I’ve cleaned it up a bit,” he says. “The turnouts have been sick lately.” Gratitude glints in his eyes as they meet yours.

Playing in front of a crowd at The Hideout was incomparable to selling out a venue like The Garden. But Eddie swore the gratification felt the same. With each new show, it’d been getting harder to find you in the crowd because of how many people had finally started giving him and the boys a chance. He never thought that locating you amid a sea head-bobbing bodies would be a pleasure he ever had.

“Will I be getting a raise for spreading the word?” You tilt your head and bite back a smile.

He plays along as easily as breathing, biceps flexing as he crosses his arms. “You already eat my snacks, steal my jewelry, and make me drive you around,” he lists. “I don’t know what else there is to offer you, but it sure as hell won’t be Benjamin’s.”

You have the nerve to blink up at him like a fawn. “It’s not my fault you hardly tell me no.”

You make it easy to say yes a million times over. Again and again.

There’s nothing for him to quip back with, so he sighs and studies you for the umpteenth time that night. There’s something amused about the glimmer in his eyes, but a fondness there as well. You’re wearing soft pants and a baggy sweater, looking effortlessly beautiful in a way that only you can manage.

Guilt wastes no time prickling beneath his skin when you curl in on yourself a bit, self-conscious. You’ve never grown used to the way he makes you feel so seen. Part of you fears he can see right through to feelings you’ve been fighting to keep tucked away.

He clears his throat and runs a hand through his eternally disheveled hair.

“Maybe I should get better about that then,” he decides. “Start telling you no more often.” A lighthearted smile pulls at his lips.

You look over at his alarm clock so you don’t drown within the increasing warmth of his umber eyes. You’re not ready to fall even though that’s what it feels like you’ve been doing for so long.

He bites his lip in preparation for the weight of his next words, “I’ve been meaning to tell—“

“My folks are expecting me back by ten.” It’s the first thing you can think to say despite the fact that they hardly ever give you curfews. “I forgot to mention it sooner.”

“Oh.” He glances to his nightstand to scrutinize the red numbers glowing on the clock. Disappointment swells within him and makes him fidget. “How the hell is it almost ten already? Thing’s gotta be broken.”

He pats the top of the device as if the right time was suddenly going to appear. “You can’t say for ten more minutes?” You shake your head apologetically. “How ‘bout five?” Another head shake. “Fuck—a minute thirty?”

A laugh bubbles up your throat, making a helplessly gooey feeling melt down the walls of his chest.

All too soon, with no success in convincing you, he’s walking you out to your car.

The night’s chill nips at both of you without reprieve. You hug your arms and break into a jog to escape it faster, leaving Eddie slowly striding behind you in hopes of prolonging his last few moments with you.

He watches you hop inside your family’s old station wagon and give the engine stuttering life. The headlights are soon to follow, illuminating a cluster of jittery moths.

The feeling of his stare boring into the side of your face through the window makes you give into the urge to crank it down, handle squeaking faintly along with your movements.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” He huffs out a chuckle. “Where am I supposed to look? Up?” He tips his head backwards, and his demeanor immediately shifts. “Hey, the stars are out.”

You peer through the windshield to see for yourself. Sure enough, countless of them shine like dull guardians miles and miles above lonesome Hawkins. They seem to span forever in every direction. The child in you looks for any surges of brightness or streaks that would indicate a shooting star.

“The view’s better out here.” There’s a persuasive lilt to his voice.

You don’t dare get out of the car. If you do, you wouldn’t make it home at all. It was getting too easy to be in his presence, like he was the bread and you were the butter that helplessly melted on top because you knew it’s where you belonged.

“I really gotta go, E.” You swallow the sadness that wants to color your words as you buckle your seatbelt and settle back into the seat. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He kicks at a cigarette butt on the ground, and nods. You were always within arms reach, yet lightyears away.

“Tomorrow,” he repeats. “Copy that.”

A silence settles between you. The only sounds that prevail are the hum of your car engine, crickets, and muffled peels of laughter carrying from a few trailers down.

Every time, it was you who pulled away at the eleventh hour before the dawn of something new.

“Good night, Eddie.”

•••

The cash register snaps closed with a resonant clamber. A beat later, you’re reaching out to take your change from the middle-aged lady thoughtfully chewing a piece of pink bubblegum behind the counter. The two of you are the only souls in the store. Humming freezers and a quiet instrumental soundtrack fill the air.

She speaks up as you turn to leave, “You alright there, sweetheart?”

“Just tired.” You sheepishly raise the bag carrying the Melatonin you’d purchased.

Even God knew you weren’t going to be able to fall asleep on your own tonight. You’d lie awake thinking of all the reasons why you should’ve stayed.

You take the time to read her name tag then: Irene.

Her frown is sympathetic. “It’s a boy, isn’t it?” Warmth rushes to your cheeks. She then leans onto the counter and you feel compelled to take a step closer. “What’s his deal?” She studies your face for any hints before asking a different question,

“What’s your deal?”

You shrug lamely, and Irene tilts her head. You don’t owe her an answer, but you can’t help but feel as though you need to hear it for yourself.

“I’m scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared.” She blows a bubble and it pops neatly without sticking to her lips. “But it’s up to you to decide if you wanna be scared forever.”

•••

Eddie’s staring up at the ceiling when a faint series of knocks sound at the front door. Instead of moving, he blows out another cloud of smoke and watches as it dissipates into a thin haze in the air. The breeze entering through the cracked window helps filter it out. It isn’t until the knocks get louder that he’s convinced his mind isn’t playing tricks on him.

What he’s not expecting is for you to be standing at the door.

“Hi,” you say softly.

He doesn’t dare question his luck. “H-Hey.” Eddie lowers the joint from between his lips and turns away from you to quickly exhale. “Tonight, uh, doesn’t count.”

He was supposed to be taking a break from smoking, and you’d promised to help keep him on track. But now, as he stood doing just that for the first time in two months, it wasn’t the joint that captured your attention. It was the reason why, the conflicted look in his eyes that the pungent haze failed to mask.

His next words get cut off with a cough, and he doesn’t bother trying to say them again.

You're met by warmth when he motions you inside. Guilt tries to convince you that you don’t deserve another chance, fear says you’re going to blow it.

“Eddie?” He raises his eyebrows. “I’m really sorry.”

The way he nods suggests he knew your curfew was fabricated from the start. “Don’t sweat it,” he lifts his shoulder. “I’m gonna go put this out.” He holds up the joint.

You trail him back to his bedroom, where your eyes roam idly over the posters covering the walls. Different things to say rise to the tip of your tongue, but none of them spill over.

Eddie turns towards you when he’s done.

“You didn’t have to lie.” Your shoulders sink as you meet his gaze, but he easily turns to humor, “You could’ve just told me you were tired of being cramped up in a trailer. I probably would’ve agreed.”

You can feel the ghost of a smile on your face, but you still mean your next words, “I feel like the worst person in the world.”

His nose wrinkles. “Maybe the fourth or fifth, but definitely not the worst.”

In spite of everything, both of you find it within yourselves to laugh. It feels good, mending.

You regain your composure before Eddie, and upon noticing he tries even harder to quell his amusement. It takes a few extra seconds because he’s high, but he finally manages to get himself under control.

He thinks before his next words, “I wasn’t expecting you to come back. You never do.” A lump forms in your throat as you toy with the hem of your sweater. “And all I can think about every time you leave is how I let you walk away without telling you how fucking much I enjoy you being around.”

You swallow. “I know you do.”

He shakes his head. “I like hanging out with the guys too—I’ll hang out with anybody if they’re cool.” You watch him with doe eyes as he speaks. “But you, you’re a whole different story. You drive me crazy in the best fucking way ever.” Those words hang thick in the air. “When I blew that eyelash of your finger, I wished—”

“Wait,” you hold out a careful hand, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Don’t tell me.” Part of you wants him to, but not at the expense of the wish not coming true.

That keeps him quiet for a few seconds. He’s still charged from his confession, electricity having taken the place of blood within his veins.

“You came back,” Eddie states instead. “Why?”

His eyes don’t leave you, and you take in his entirety for the first time since you’ve been back. Long hair, short sleeve Metallica shirt, faded pajama pants. He doesn’t have his chest puffed out or his chin turned up in that charming way he often does when he’s working a crowd or a group of friends.

He’s leveled. No guard up, no mask on, just Eddie.

The one who’s been by your side since fifth grade. Who could make your sides ache on the days when laughing was the last thing you thought you could do. Who got on your nerves almost every time you were together, but still managed to be one of your favorite people in the world.

“You know how you always say there’s no shame in running?” you ask, shifting your weight. You’d sat in on enough of his D&D campaigns to have heard that phrase uttered.

He nods.

“Well, we both know it’s also worth something when you have the guts to stay. So this is me choosing not to run anymore.” From your feelings or from him.

The room shrinks and grows one hundred degrees hotter when Eddie moves to stand closer to you. He reaches out to grasp your hand, calluses brushing your skin. The chunky metal rings adorning his fingers glint.

Your next breath stalls as he presses your palm flat against the left side of his chest. The quickened rhythm of his heart drums against it fiercely. A mix of vulnerability and courage are married in his eyes.

“Same,” you whisper, and his lips twitch upwards. “Here I was thinking this was gonna be just another Friday night.”

You let your hand fall from his chest.

A grin breaks across his face like dawn, more tender than it’s ever been. “I’m glad it’s not.”

Time slows as he cups your face, eyes flitting over every detail as if to memorize it all over again. “You’re so fucking pretty.” He whispers it like there’s nothing to question, like he's been waiting forever.

You don’t mean to smile as wide as you do. His heart skips a beat, maybe two. He’s done holding back from what he’s been wanting to do for so long.

Not another second passes before he presses his lips to yours.

They move with careful earnesty. Despite the fact that it feels like your entire body bursts into stardust, you kiss him back with an innate sense of knowing. You can feel the puffs of air from his nose fanning over your skin, the way his thumbs brush over your cheeks. It’s intoxicating in a way that makes you weak in the knees. Even with the newness of it all, there’s an air of ease and familiarity that you lose yourself within. You don’t worry if you’re doing it right.

By the time he pushes you backwards to sit on the edge of his bed, he’s taken off your sweater and tossed it onto the floor, leaving your pale pink bra newly on display.

From your seated position, you watch him pull his own shirt over his head, further disheveling his hair. His milky skin hosts a myriad of dark tattoos and fading scars. Anticipation swirls in your core as he encourages you to lay on your back, propping himself overtop of you. He pecks the tip of your nose before slotting his lips over yours once again.

A surprised sound escapes you when his lips begin to plant a trail of kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck, head tilting to give him more access. The moment your conscience catches up to reality, you push at his chest and he immediately pulls away.

“Too much?” He studies your face. You can’t bring yourself to say no because you don’t want it to end.

“I think I just need a second. Sorry.” Embarrassment clings to your words, but you muster a shaky laugh. “I’m not used to this kinda thing.”

Eddie had experienced his share of sporadic flings, but his feelings never ran as deep as they do for you.

“You’re okay,” he soothes. “I may like pushing your buttons, but ‘m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to, alright?”

In all your years of knowing him, he’d never given you reason to believe he’d ever discount your feelings. Or that he was even capable of doing so.

You raise a hand to cup his cheek. “Let’s keep going.”

“You sure?” He turns his head to kiss your palm. “Absolutely positive?” He dips down and playfully nips at your collarbone. “Cross your heart?”

You bite your lip to keep from giggling, but fail when he begins to move lower. He drinks in your laughter like it’s an elixir.

He continues a disorderly line of kisses down your stomach, and your mind is beyond hazy by the time he reaches the waistband of your jeans. You don’t utter any words of protest when he kneels to pop the button open. The subsequent sound of your zipper being pulled down might as well be thunder with how quiet the room has grown aside from it.

Your panties are the same pink as your bra, trimmed with thin lace that makes Eddie dizzy. Without waiting for him to ask, you lift your hips for him to pull down your pants. Once they’re on the floor, he runs his hands over both of your thighs, trying his best to memorize the feeling. You briefly close your eyes when his fingers ghost over the soft fabric of your underwear. Nerves bundle low in your stomach to the point where you feel like a live wire laying exposed before him.

“You’re gonna be the end of me,” he says like a scripture.

“Me?” you peer down at him in disbelief.

“Yeah, you. Who else?” He lifts the thin waistband of your panties and lets it snap back down to your skin. “I’m gonna take ‘em off.” He only makes the announcement to give you a chance to refute it.

Rather than doing so, you brace your feet so you can lift your hips for him once more.

You’ve known him for the better half of your life. If anyone, your trust can reside in him.

A string of awed expletives slip past his lips when there’s nothing left between him and your heat. To stop himself from staring, he turns his face into your thigh to suck a bruise into the plush skin. You don’t realize that’s what he’s doing until you feel the tiny pinch that stings so good.

Your silence is perceived as permission to switch to the other leg to do the same. You can hear your heart in your ears, and regard it as a reminder that you’re alive and breathing during a moment you never thought would come.

You’re marked now, his.

He runs a gentle finger from your clit to your wet folds, and your own sensitivity surprises you when your thighs snap closed and trap his hand.

“Sorry,” you breathe, slowly blooming them open again. You make the mistake of meeting his gaze, where fondness seems to radiate like imperceivable rays of light.

After pressing a kiss to the space just beneath your navel, he stands and climbs onto the bed with you. You sit up and look to him for further direction.

An easy smile spreads across his face as he settles with his back against the wall where a headboard should be.

“C’mere,” he stretches his legs out in front of himself.

You crawl to him and sit so that your back is pressed against the warmth of his bare chest. It isn’t until you shift that you feel his erection pressing into your rear.

You peek back at him with hot cheeks. “Sorry.”

Eddie drops a kiss to your shoulder. “You’ve apologized five hundred times tonight.” You shrink in on yourself because you know it’s true. “You’re not allowed to anymore, capeesh?”

You nod.

“Now prop your legs up, buttercup.” You can hear the smile in his voice that hopes you caught his rhyme.

You press your feet into his sheets and spread your knees into a V.

His pointer finger finds your clit without warning, applying just enough pressure to hitch your breath. You’ve touched yourself before, but had never taken the time to truly gain an understanding of the deeper pleasure there was to be felt.

Here Eddie was, showing you what you didn’t know about yourself.

He switches to rubbing your bundle of nerves with his thumb while his middle finger glides through the slickness of your folds, making you clench with want. You reach between your legs with the hope of helping, or perhaps egging things along, but Eddie tuts.

“Hands off or I’ll stop.” His tone is gentle and commanding all at once.

Even though you follow his instructions, he still withdraws his touch. A protest ends up dying in your throat when you feel his fingers undoing the clasp of your bra and pushing the straps down your goosebump-laden arms. It soon joins the rest of your clothes on the floor. You’ve never been so bare in front of another person.

“Jesus, look at you,” he murmurs. His large hands raise to cup your breasts, fingers experimentally pinching both of your pebbled nipples. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more beautiful sight.

You watch with hooded eyes and parted lips. Caught off guard when he grabs your hands and redirects them to your chest to take over for him. You tentatively pinch your nipples in the same way he’d done, sending minute shockwaves through your body.

“There you go,” he coos into your ear. A gasp falls past your lips when his hand dips back between your legs to ease the tip of his middle finger into your entrance. As he pushes it in further, your toes curl tighter.

But his touch disappears yet again, making an exasperated breath leave you as your head falls backwards onto his shoulder.

“Eddie,” it’s a whine. “Are you teasing me?”

“No. I forgot to take my rings off.” They clink as he drops them onto the nightstand. “But I think I will now since you just had to say something.” The charged promise of those words sends a chill down your spine.

You’re begging three minutes later. A melodic mix of weakened pleads, his name, and incoherent bargains that only make him smile.

He’s trapped you on the edge of a freefall. Your thighs ache from tensing, and the strong pulse of arousal between your legs consumes the entirety of your mind. His two middlemost fingers pump in and out of your entrance with no sense of urgency, curling into that spot within you that makes you want to shatter. Whenever he senses that you’re about to topple over the edge, he pauses to let a few seconds crawl by.

It’s scary how good he is at reading you. At holding the reins.

“I can’t anymore,” you breathlessly insist, pressing back into him. “Eddie, please.”

“Sure you can.” He suckles the spot beneath your ear. In your head, you scream at him in frustration but in reality you squeeze your eyes shut.

He doesn’t know who he’s teasing anymore. Listening to you whimper and feeling you squirm has him twitching and straining in his boxers.

Somewhere along the line, he remembers mercy.

As soon as the cord within you snaps, your back arches and your walls flutter helplessly around his fingers. Your orgasm crashes over you in strong heated waves, each one fizzling out in their own time, making you tremble.

When your breaths grow even again, he slowly pulls his fingers out of you as you watch, awed and silent. You place a hand on his thigh to ensure he stays close.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises.

The two of you sit in silence for a while, basking in the warmth of each other’s body, the new air between you. It’s as if you’re waiting to be roused from a dream.

“I wanna keep making you feel good,” he eventually murmurs into your ear, smirking when you shiver. “Will you let me do that?”

The feeling of his erection pressing into your backside suddenly registers in your mind again, and you reach behind you to curiously palm the outline through his pajama pants. He feels it in his bones.

“You can do whatever you want,” you tell him.

Eddie grabs your waist and gently pushes you forward so you know to let him get up. You settle in the middle of the bed and pull your legs up to your chest in a halfhearted reclaim of modesty.

He stalks over to his dresser and scans the cluttered surface with his lower lip pulled between his teeth. You trace his back tattoos with your eyes. After pushing a few stray trinkets aside, he makes a sound of frustration.

“What's wrong?” you ask.

He continues looking. “Coulda sworn there was a condom lying around up here.”

After a beat, you crawl to the edge of his bed so you can peek into the drawer of his nightstand. There’s notebooks filled with song lyrics, old magazines, a Walkman, batteries, guitar picks. No square foils in sight.

“Can’t we still…” your words fade when he meets your gaze, but he gives you an encouraging nod. “You know. If we’re extra careful, right?” Your voice is just above a murmur by the time you stop speaking.

The innocence seeping from your gaze makes a helpless fool out of him.

The next thing you know, he’s pulling his pants and boxers down in one go, cock springing up towards his belly as you watch with owlish eyes. A dark tuft of hair curls at the base, and the head is a pretty shade of rose that’s beading pearlescent pre-cum. A prominent vein snakes along the underside.

You’re more than ready. It’s the lightning in a bottle type sureness that you can’t believe you’ve come to know so well. The second he starts moving towards the bed again, you reposition onto your back.

Though you don’t utter a single word, every unspoken thought from your mind seems to shape his smile. It’s not entirely proud, there’s a hint of softness to it. Something giddy residing just beneath the surface that takes the edge off the intensity of his gaze.

A comforting heat radiates from his body as he positions himself overtop of you.

He reaches between your legs to collect the tell tale sign of your arousal on his fingers, and your eyelashes flutter. “Nice and ready for me, huh?”

The tone of his voice makes you want to hide. You feel small and on top of the world at the same time. Eagerness is written all over your face. And in the way your chest rises with quicker breaths. How your fingers are curled into the sheets.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” You’re glad he does because you’re certain all words would fail if you tried to speak.

All you can do is blink up at him, propping your legs on either side of him as he lines himself up at your entrance.

It’s overwhelming at first, incomparable to his fingers. But he takes it slow, watching your face the whole while. Before you know it, you’ve stretched to take the entirety of his length, and his eyes are glued to where you’re joined.

He bottoms out with a satisfied grunt, hair falling into his face. The fullness makes up for the dull ache. Especially as he begins to slowly pull out in preparation for another pump. A gasp escapes you the second time he eases back in, and your face scrunches with the new depth that comes with hooking your legs around the back of his thighs.

“If you wanna stop at any point just tell me, okay?” He tries his best to keep his voice steady.

“Okay,” you whisper shakily.

He finds a rhythm before long, cheeks flushed right along with his chest. He looks beautiful like this. Even his pleasured sighs and huffs rush straight to the pit of your stomach.

“Lemme hear you,” his voice comes out gruff. “Stop holding back.”

You swallow a moan. “‘M not.”

Unconvinced, Eddie rolls one of your nipples between his fingers, and your breath stutters on its way out. You don’t remember being this sensitive earlier, and a few more pinches have your mouth gaping open just as he expected.

His thrusts grow pointedly harder, forcing the fire building in your core to burn brighter.

“Oh, god—Eddie,” you finally choke out, gripping onto his biceps.

He swears he grows impossibly harder, orgasm creeping even closer from its place in the distance. You’re so soft, so warm, so wet, squeezing him in a maddening way. Your blunt fingernails move to dig into the back of his shoulders, leaving crescent indents in their wake.

“Say my name again.”

“Eddie,” you sigh, helplessly clenching around him. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” You sound dreamy. It rushes straight between his legs, and he can feel that familiar coil beginning to wear thin.

Hearing you say his name like that was going to do him in.

A sudden burst of confidence finds you. “You’re so deep—gonna make me come.”

His hips falter and something shifts in his eyes. He starts drawing circles over your clit.

“I wanna feel you fall apart around me,” he says, and you nod because you want that for him. “But not until I say, alright?”

Your stomach drops.

When you don’t answer, he slows to a torturous pace that makes your head spin. “Gotta answer me so I know we’re on the same page.”

“We always have been,” you half slur, drunk on him.

As Eddie looks down at you, he sees a large fraction of his world woven into the delicate furrow of your eyebrows, the way your eyelashes meet the very tops of your cheeks, the part of your cherry-tainted lips.

He lowers himself so that his chest is grazing yours as he continues thrusting, pubic bone dragging over your clit. The feeling of his warm breaths fanning into your ear makes you shudder, and when you arch up, you’re only met by more of his warmth, more of him. There is no escape, nowhere to run. Only accept.

“Wish I could, shit, wish I could bottle this feeling in a fucking jar and keep it forever,” he grits into your ear. “Never felt anything this good… five stars from me.” He’s fighting to hold himself together.

You miss half of those words because you’re on the verge of an ascension.

“Eddie,” you breathe, somewhat startled. “Eddie, please. Can I come? I’m so close.”

“How close?”

Your voice goes airy and high because he’s hitting just the right spot. “‘M right there.”

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel.” Whining, you claw into his skin with the intent of making it sting, but it only makes his shoulders shake with a chuckle. “I’ll shut this whole show down if you wanna play that game—”

“So good!” you whimper, giving in. “You’re making me feel so good. Just… please.” You clench around him in hopes of earning an okay.

It almost makes him fold, come right on the spot, but he still forces out a, “Not yet, angel. I gotta practice telling you no, remember?”

His constant denial was only adding fuel to the fire of pleasure burning within you and he knew it.

By his next thrust, he could tell the beginnings of an unraveling had begun sweeping you under. Even though he sees it coming from a mile away, he nearly passes out himself when you let go.

Eyes closed, your walls flutter around him in a strong, rapid succession that carries on for a while. You’re being lifted somewhere higher than you’ve ever known. The world fades around the edges, and the distant sound of Eddie’s voice washes over you as your jaw slacks open.

There you go, that’s it. Couldn’t hold back any longer, huh?

Only when aftershocks begin to spark through you do you realize how deep your breaths have grown, and the new laxity of your limbs that makes you feel like you’ve become one with his bed, trembling weakly. A wonderful ache resides between your legs.

A gentle weight soon meets your lower stomach, and your eyes flutter open just enough to see. Eddie has pulled himself from within the warmth of you, and rested his slickened tip against your warm skin. You watch dazedly as he strokes himself a few good times before jolting and releasing onto your belly.

All you get is a glimpse of his blissed expression before he leans down to tuck his face into your neck. You lift a hand to his head and gently scratch at his scalp as you feel him begin to place soft kisses to your throat. You can still feel his cock against your belly, and you work your other hand between your bodies to wrap your delicate fingers around him.

His whole body shudders, and when you lightly circle your thumb around the tip your name breathlessly falls past his lips.

He grunts and makes you stop when you start to do the same lazy motion again, and you chuckle weakly.

“Oh, is that funny?” he asks, wrestling a smile. When you bite your lip and nod sweetly, he pushes himself up so he’s propped higher above you. “You wanna know what else is funny? I don’t think I ever gave you the green light to come.”

You blink up at him innocently. “I couldn’t help it.”

He begins tracing the underside of one of your breasts and you suck in a breath, gripping onto his wrist. He pulls from your hold, and that same hand trails down your body, over your ribs and down your sides. His fingers leave a tingly buzz in their wake. You try not to squirm too much because his spend is still on your stomach.

“I’m trying to decide if I should do something about it or be nice,” he says, ghosting a finger over your oversensitive clit.

When you whimper, his fingertips move to revisit one of the marks he left on the inside of your thighs, and the ticklish sensation makes your muscles tense as you huff out a tired laugh. He playfully quirks his brows at that reaction, but you can see the warmth in his eyes.

You smile when he leans down to give your lips a sweet peck. “I’ll be nice,'' he promises. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

•••

When midnight comes, sleep has found neither of you. You’re both fighting it, trying to stay awake so you can continue sharing hushed stories, soft caresses, and smiles that warm you right along with the sheets covering your bodies.

Your eyes are the first to begin fluttering, and Eddie stops talking when he notices.

“No, keep going,” you murmur. “I’m listening.”

“We can talk more in the morning,” he says. You shake your head no, and he chuckles. “Yes. Go to sleep.”

Before you have the chance to say anything else, he reaches out to turn the bedside lamp off. You press yourself closer to his body after he settles back beside you.

Neither of you say anything for a while, so you begin to assume he’s dozed off. When he speaks up again, his words are soft and honest, “This is what I wished for. A moment just like this.”

You mean to tell him that you think you’re in love.

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solar-wing · 28 days

Text

⚣ Take Care Of Me 🪢

⚣🪢 Summary → As a side effect of Jason being healed and resurrected in the Lazarus pits, his ruts have grown more intense. He's resigned to suffering through them alone until he realizes the longer he goes without knotting an Omega, the stronger they will get. So he decides to reach out to Y/N...

⚣🪢 Words → 12.7K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🪢

Jason could be such an irresponsible, stubborn little shit sometimes.

“Y/N, chill out. I don’t need you to always take care of me,” Jason grumbled as the smaller male forced him to sit on the toilet in his bathroom while he patched and mended his wounds.

“Apparently, you do doofus, since you always end up showing up on my balcony a bloody and bruised mess. I swear, Jason, one of these days you’re going to get yourself killed if you don’t just start learning to ask for help,” Y/N scolded as he applied an anesthetic to a nasty blade wound on the vigilante’s arm. Any deeper and Jason wouldn’t have been lucky enough to make it to Y/N’s before he passed out from blood loss.

“Been there, done that sweetheart,” Jason smirked.

Y/N rolled his eyes at him while wrapping the gauze and bandage around his admittedly large bicep, “You’re insufferable.”

“But, you still love me,” Jason confidently stated, standing to his feet after Y/N put on the last bandage.

“Regretfully,” Y/N retorted as he packed away his medical supplies. Ever since that first night he and Jason met, the Omega kept his med kit stocked, even splurging on a few extra items he would need for certain wounds that only a trip to the ER would be able to treat.

Y/N's sight turned to the muscular Alpha standing beside him, watching from the corner of his eyes as he checked his wounds and grabbed his shirt and gear from the ground. Even though they were only friends, the Omega couldn’t deny the attraction he felt towards the vigilante.

He didn’t know if it was romantic or just sexual, but it was something. But, seeing the life Jason had and his choice of career, he decided it’d be better if he didn’t indulge himself in that, no matter how badly he wanted to.

They’d met a couple of years prior when Y/N had first moved to Gotham. Since he was new to the city, he didn’t understand the dos and don’ts and would consistently go for walks late at night when most people would usually be inside by then with the doors and windows locked.

As one can imagine, this eventually led him to trouble when one random night, he got ambushed by some thugs. At first, they were going to just mug him, but when they realized he was an Omega, their intentions slightly changed with a very undesirable end for Y/N.

Thankfully, an angel came to his rescue in the form of the famous vigilante, Red Hood. He’d knocked out the two Alphas cornering the Omega against the wall and scaring off the one Beta before coming over to help the Omega off the ground.

Of course, there was the cliché moment where the rescued victim thanks their savior gleefully and they slowly glance at each other, feeling a deep connection before they fall in love and swoop off into the night. Well, at least it could’ve gone like that.

As Red Hood was checking to make sure the Omega was okay and escorting him out the alleyway, they both missed one of the other Alphas getting back to their feet and grabbing their weapon off the ground before charging at the vigilante. He was able to fight him off and knock him out, but not before taking some pretty nasty cuts that would’ve been lethal had he not reacted quickly.

When Y/N realized how badly he was injured, he helped him back to his apartment where he thankfully had barely enough supplies in his first-aid kit to stop the initial bleeding and patch him up enough. The Omega suggested taking him to the hospital, but Red Hood turned it down.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I got some people who’ll take good care of me. But, you be careful out there. No more late-night walks in this city, got it?”

After that night, Y/N didn’t see Red Hood for some time until a few weeks later when he showed up on his balcony again, bruised and battered and in dire need of some medical aid. Why he didn’t go to his ‘people’ but rather going to a random Omega he’d only met some weeks prior was beyond him, but he didn’t complain.

Eventually, with enough visits, they went from random strangers to somewhat trusted acquaintances, until eventually, they were seeing each other so much, a lot of the time the vigilante not needing any medical attention, just checking in on the Omega that they became friends.

Now, just a couple of years later, Y/N knew not just Red Hood, but the man behind the hood and under the skin-tight gear which he did not ogle regularly. He didn’t! Stop looking at him like that!

“Ah, you don’t mean that,” Jason said while putting his shirt back on.

He turned to the Omega who’d just put away his med kit back under the sink before looking at him and placing his hands against the sink, leaning back for support.

“You can’t tell me what I mean,” Y/N replied.

“Yes, I can. You always say I'm insufferable, but never mean it. Otherwise, you wouldn't be so kind to let me into your apartment every time I need your delicate touch," Jason teased.

And for whatever reason, Jason saying that sparked a bit of arousal in Y/N's stomach, but he chose to ignore it.

"Whatever," Y/N replied with an eye roll while pressing himself against the sink as he noticed the sudden closeness between him and Jason, not even noticing that the Alpha had got closer, almost boxing him against the sink, "Um, sir? Why are you so close? This bathroom is already small enough, and you're not helping by taking up so much space here."

Y/N didn't even want to turn around and look in the mirror, knowing that Jason's towering and bulky frame shown in the mirror compared to his smaller and softer one would cause very sinful thoughts in his mind. Not that he hadn't had these thoughts before.

"I'm not taking up any more space than you are, shorty," Jason retorted.

"That's a bold-faced lie. We both know I'm a perfectly respectable height. You're just giant," Y/N replied.

Jason chuckled, his laugh making the Omega's body feel all tingly and warm. It didn't help that the sound seemed to resonate from the Alpha's chest, the vibrations from his laugh reaching Y/N's own, causing the smaller male to bite his bottom lip.

"Maybe there'd be more room if you got rid of the ridiculous number of lotions and creams you have in here," Jason spoke lowly, subtly getting closer to the Omega while leaning more into his space.

"You leave me and my lotions alone. Don't get mad at me because I don't allow myself to be ashy, which speaking of it, you probably need some help with. Then again, that could just be your caucasianess," Y/N said, gesturing a hand over Jason's body where his pale and ivory skin was exposed.

Jason chuckled, "Why do you always have to go and attack my skin color?"

"Because, unlike you, I'm not an enemy of the sun," Y/N replied.

"Okay, just because I lack melanin doesn't make you better than me."

"Hmm, I think it does," Y/N joked.

"You're an asshole."

"But, you still love me," Y/N replied, mocking Jason's earlier words.

Y/N noticed again the space becoming much smaller between him and the Alpha, and it was not doing much to help quell the growing arousal he was already feeling in his body. He and Jason already had a platonic bond, since Jason would constantly scent mark him on his wrists and leave clothes for the Omega to wear whenever he knew the smaller male was going out into the city by himself.

The gesture was appreciated, and Y/N was flattered that the vigilante was concerned for his well-being, but having his clothes filled with the Alpha's scent wasn't helping his already developing feelings for the Alpha.

"You're still getting closer," Y/N breathed.

"And you're still not stopping me," Jason replied, his voice a low and husky rumble, making the Omega's toes curl in his shoes.

"I...uh," Y/N tried to think of a response, his brain feeling fuzzy.

A few quiet seconds passed before something passed over Jason's eyes, seemingly like he was coming out of a trance. The Alpha took a step back, giving the Omega a little bit of breathing room, even despite his disappointment at his moving back.

"Sorry, I uh...sorry, I didn't mean to get so close," Jason apologized.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm not upset," Y/N told him, gently placing his hand on the Alpha's wrist, jerking at the heat he felt underneath the ivory skin, "Jason, you're really hot."

"Well, thank you, sweetheart. Glad you noticed," Jason winked, trying to deflect the comment.

"No, no, I mean, you're burning up. Are you okay?" Y/N asked, removing his hand and using it to press the back of his palm against the Alpha's forehead, a worried look crossing his face. He didn't even realize it was him now closing the distance between them, stepping into the Alpha's space.

"Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry. I'm just running a bit of a fever, it's no big deal," Jason answered.

"You're literally sweating buckets, and your skin is red. This is more than just a 'bit of a fever'. Have you taken your temperature? How about a shower and some cold water? I'm sure I have some ice packs-"

"I'm fine, Y/N. Just drop it," Jason snapped, a little too harshly as the Omega immediately flinched and stepped back, looking away from the Alpha.

"Right, sorry. I didn't mean to bother," Y/N mumbled.

Jason sighed, running a hand through his hair, "No, don't apologize. I didn't mean to snap. Look, it's late, and I'm exhausted. I'll head home and sleep it off, alright?"

"You're welcome to stay the night if you want. It's no trouble. I'll even let you use my various lotions," Y/N joked, though his tone and face were still showing his worry for his friend.

"Thanks, but I'm not gonna intrude. I'll see you later, Y/N," Jason said, walking past the Omega.

Before he could say anything else, Jason grabbed the rest of his things and was out of the bathroom and his apartment within a couple of minutes. The sudden tense and awkward silence was a little unsettling for the Omega, especially after how close he and the Alpha had become in the past couple of years.

"Well, fuck," Y/N breathed, running a hand through his hair.

A couple of days had gone by and Y/N hadn't heard anything from Jason. It wasn't unusual for him to go radio silent for a few days, sometimes a couple of weeks if he was working on an important case.

But, this was different. After seeing how Jason left his apartment the other night, the Omega had been nothing other than an anxious and worried mess.

What was wrong with him? Why was he acting so weirdly the other night? Was he okay? Did Y/N accidentally make him mad about the Sun joke?

That wouldn't make sense though since Jason had the raunchiest sense of humor he'd ever known. The jokes Y/N made could be considered playground stuff compared to some of the stuff that came out of that man's mouth.

All these questions and more had been running through the Omega's mind for the past couple of days. He wanted to check on the Alpha but was afraid of what his reaction would be if he did.

He'd thought about asking reaching out to Dick or Bruce or someone from Jason's family to see if they'd heard from him, but quickly decided against it, not wanting to come off as a clingy or annoying Omega.

Jason would talk to him when he was ready, and he had no choice but to respect that.

Even though it didn't make the wait any less painful or worrying.

"Fuck it," Y/N cursed, grabbing his phone from the coffee table.

Scrolling through his contacts, he found the name he was looking for and pressed the call button, lifting the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Alfred. It's Y/N."

"Master Y/N. What a surprise. How are you, my dear boy?"

"I'm doing well, thank you," A smile spread across his face at the polished voice on the other end. The butler was always so nice and respectful to speak to. Jason always said it was impossible to talk to Alfred and not feel good or better about yourself.

"Wonderful to hear. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Actually, yes. I was hoping you'd be able to tell me where Jason is. I haven't heard from him in a couple of days, and I was just wondering if you knew where he was."

"Unfortunately, I am not aware of Master Jason's whereabouts, nor is anyone else in the manor. He has not contacted anyone within the family for some time, and we are all rather concerned."

That had Y/N even more worried.

He knew Jason didn't have the best relationship with Bruce, his adoptive father, but from what the Omega understood, that disdain didn't extend to his other family members. At least not completely.

Especially Alfred of all people. Jason always said how Alfred was his favorite out of everyone in that entire family, so the fact that the butler didn't know what was going on had him even more on edge.

"Is everything alright, Master Y/N?" Alfred asked, noticing the Omega's long silence.

"Oh, yes, sorry. Everything's fine. Just a bit distracted," Y/N lied.

"Of course, my dear boy. If there is anything else I can do, please let me know."

"Yes, sir. Thank you," Y/N replied, hearing the butler hang up the phone a second later.

"Fuck," the Omega cursed.

After putting his phone down, the Omega ran a hand down his face while doing a nervous scratch on his durag-covered head. It didn't make sense, and the Omega was beginning to worry something terrible had happened to the vigilante, knowing the life he led.

"Dammit Jay, where the hell are you?"

"Fucking shit," Jason groaned, sweat dripping down his body as his hands gripped the sheets.

His teeth were clenched tightly together, and his body was trembling slightly from the intense pain his lower region was feeling as he furiously moved the pocket sex toy furiously up and down his raging and hard dick, damn near close to breaking it which wouldn't be good considering it was his last one.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuck," Jason growled, his hips arching off the bed.

This was the fourth night in a row that the Alpha had been suffering through the intense pain that was his rut. The pain was only getting worse the longer he ignored and attempted to suppress his instincts, which he wasn't doing a good job of doing if the state of his apartment was anything to go by.

His bedroom, living room, kitchen, and every other room in the apartment was in complete disarray. Broken pieces of furniture were scattered across the floor, his walls had multiple holes in them, and a few stains of his blood could be found in various spots around the place.

It was a good thing he paid rent up front and the building manager was never around, or they would've kicked him out and called the police.

"Ugh, aah," the Alpha grunted, his hips arching off the bed as the vibrations coursed through his dick, sending shivers throughout his body.

His knot was already swollen and pulsating, but it wasn't enough. He needed an actual hole to insert his knot into. A nice wet, tight, and pulsing hot hole that he could fuck and breed, pumping his cum and his seed inside.

He needed an Omega.

"Goddammit," Jason panted, tossing the small toy to the side and laying his head back on the pillow, a sheen layer of sweat covering his entire body.

The pain had gone away temporarily, but now the urge to fuck and knot an Omega was growing stronger, and it was making him lose his mind. If he could just find an Omega and breed them, the pain would go away. But, he couldn't just go and pick up a random Omega off the street and force them to spread their legs so the Alpha fuck their brains out even if that's what his body was calling him to do.

At least, not without being arrested and charged with rape.

It took everything in him to leave Y/N's apartment that night after he realized he was entering the early stages of his rut, hence his somewhat weird behavior towards the Omega. Knowing how intense and strong his ruts had gotten since he came back after being dipped in the Lazarus pits, Jason didn't want to take the chance of hurting anyone, especially the Omega he'd come to care for deeply.

Not that Y/N knew this.

And now, it was getting harder and harder to fight against the urge to do just that. To ignore his basic and natural instincts.

He figured it to be a side effect of the Lazarus pits, seeing as how other parts of his body and mind had become more enhanced after this little swim. It'd make sense that it would also affect his mating cycle, he just didn't think it would make them this intense and impossible to deal with.

As time passed and he went through his rut cycles, they slowly got more intense. He was way more aggressive than he was normally, he'd start to experience pain and literal freaking blue balls if he didn't get his knot out in enough time, and worst of all, his ruts were lasting longer and starting to occur more frequently. They used to come every 2 months, maybe one and a half if he was just unlucky. Now, they were damn near coming every month or few weeks.

And the last time he actually had someone with him through his rut, because of increased aggressiveness which made him much more brutal and rough than normal (and that was saying something), he nearly put that Omega in the hospital. Of course, they were understanding and didn't hold it against him, but he didn't want to risk hurting anyone else.

He started ignoring his ruts and locking himself away in his apartment. He'd buy a bunch of sex toys and other stuff that would help ease the pain and tension and would just tough it out until his rut was over, not caring that the pain would only get worse the longer he ignored his instincts.

"Augh," Jason moaned, the pain starting to come back and his arousal rising again.

He reached his hand down, his fingers wrapping around his large, throbbing, and rock-hard cock, his thumb rubbing the tip and smearing the precum leaking out of the slit. The Alpha groaned, his hips thrusting up into his hand, the movements rough and uncoordinated.

This is what it had been for the past almost week. Him alone in his apartment with nothing but his hand, rut-specific fleshlights that ended up torn apart after only a couple of uses because of his ridiculously enlarged knot, and an ever-consistent raging hard-on.

And the pain. Don't forget the pain.

The pain was the worst part. The need and desire to mate and breed an Omega was strong, but the physical and mental pain his body would be in due to not giving into those desires was the absolute fucking worst.

"Fuck, ugh," Jason groaned, his fist picking up speed.

His eyes closed the image of a beautiful and naked Omega underneath him, moaning his name and begging him to fuck him or her. The smell of their scent was the sweetest aroma he'd ever experienced, and their body was the softest and smoothest thing he'd ever touched.

While his hand furiously stroked up and down, so close to the edge but just not able to reach it, he could feel his anger growing more the longer it took for him to reach his release. Then, as he was imagining the body of some random Omega that was on top of him, that blurred image where their face should be suddenly had a face.

Y/N's face.

"Oh fuck Jason!" Y/N screamed in his head, his hands pressing against the vigilante's hard chest while he bit his lips in painful pleasure as he bounced up and down on his dick.

A guttural sound left his throat, his hips thrusting up into his hand faster and harder as he imagined the smaller male on top of him, moaning and begging the Alpha to knot him, his body writhing in pleasure. His sweaty brown skin glistened in the light from the moon outside as his body moved up and down with the rattling bed from the force of Jason's thrusts inside him.

"Y/N, fu-fuck, baby, yes," Jason groaned, his body moving up and down as the imaginary Y/N bounced his body up and down the Alpha's massive cock, taking his knot so beautifully.

"Shit," the Alpha cursed, his hand gripping his cock tighter, his palm rubbing the head, a growl leaving his mouth.

He thrust into his hand even harder, his sore and throbbing cock leaking more and more pre-cum as he imagined Y/N screaming out on top of him, begging for his knot.

"Fuck, Jason, knot me! Please, I need it. Give me your knot!"

"I'm gonna, baby. Gonna knot you, give you my knot," Jason answered, his mind still deep in his fantasy.

Before he knew it, Jason had blown one of the biggest and most satisfying loads he's had this entire rut, possibly his entire life. His hips arched off the bed with his hand milking his dick for every drop of cum his balls could produce.

"Shit," Jason groaned, his hips falling back to the bed and his chest heaving up and down.

His heart was pounding, and his body was still covered in a thick layer of sweat, but the pain was subsiding. Not completely, but enough for the Alpha to at least catch his breath. His head was fuzzy, and his vision was blurry, but he was slowly coming back to reality.

"Fuck, I'm a goddamn mess."

Truthfully, this wasn't the first time this had happened. The Alpha had known for a long time that his feelings towards the Omega weren't strictly platonic. Hell, he'd immediately found the guy attractive since the first time he met him, but he had no idea when his feelings began developing into something deeper and more serious.

Even then, it wasn't like Jason was the best person to have a healthy relationship with. He wasn't exactly a people person, and he wasn't the best when it came to expressing his emotions. Plus, the fact that he had a very dangerous career choice didn't help.

But, despite all of that, Y/N was the first person he'd truly felt comfortable with in a very long time outside of Roy, and not just because he was a new Omega in the city who would always patch him up. Don't ask him why, but sometimes it was easy to talk to a complete stranger.

Plus, after getting to know him, Jason became protective of the Omega, wanting to keep him safe.

When they met, Y/N was a clueless and innocent little Omega who had no business being out at such a late hour, especially in Gotham. Jason couldn't have that. So, he made sure to check in on him regularly to make sure no harm had come to him, which didn't help with the growing attraction he was feeling towards him.

It also didn't help that Y/N and he seemed to banter back and forth and act like a couple, flirty undertones and all. Whenever they'd hang out outside of the Omega's apartment, people always assumed they were together. And it wasn't like Jason would mind that. Not at all. He just didn't know if Y/N would mind it.

He'd admit, there was a time when he thought about pursuing a romantic relationship with the Omega, but ultimately decided against it. Jason didn't think he deserved the happiness and warmth the smaller male brought him.

So, he chose to content himself with the friendship he had with him, not wanting to ruin one of the only good things he had in his life.

Now, however, the Alpha was beginning to reconsider.

Not even a few minutes went by before Jason felt his dick rising to attention again, his rut coming back with an even more demanding vengeance.

"Dammit, not again," Jason cursed, sitting up.

The pain was starting to come back, and his dick was already hardening again, the head a deep red and aching with need. His suppressants virtually did nothing for him anymore aside from giving him close to an hour of relief.

And he could feel that if he didn't knot someone soon and properly let his rut play out, he was going to kill someone. He'd already destroyed most of his apartment.

"I'm so fucked."

"Hey, Dick. Any word on Jason?" Y/N asked, leaning his elbows on the counter as he tried to resist biting his nails while holding the phone to his ear.

He'd become more of a nervous wreck the longer he didn't hear from Jason. He figured everything would be fine, thinking that Jason was just on a mission and couldn't respond, but when Bruce reached out to him to see if he knew where his adoptive son had been, the Omega's anxiety skyrocketed.

"No, sorry. We haven't heard anything from him. We checked his safehouse and his apartment and didn't find anything but we haven't stopped looking. How are you doing?"

Y/N ignored the feeling that Dick was holding back something, not telling him the entire truth. But, he was too worried to care.

"Yeah, I'm doing okay. Just a little stressed," the Omega replied.

"You're not the only one. We're all worried about him. This isn't the first time he's gone missing, and the fact that no one has seen him or heard anything from him is making us all anxious," Dick explained.

"I understand. If you guys need any help, just let me know," Y/N told him.

"Thanks, Y/N. We'll call if we need you. Just stay safe and relax, alright? Don't worry, I'm sure he'll turn up. He always does."

"Okay. Bye, Dick."

Y/N hung up the phone after hearing Dick say his goodbyes as well before starting to pace back and forth in his apartment. It'd been a week since the Omega last saw Jason.

Normally, he'd be completely fine, knowing Jason was probably doing some vigilante business and didn't want him getting involved. But, this was different.

The way Jason left his apartment, looking like he was sick or coming down with something, the fact that he hadn't heard from him, or anyone in his family for that matter, and the fact that Dick didn't seem like he was telling him the entire truth had the Omega in a near panic.

"Jason, I swear the next time I fucking see you," the Omega cursed.

"You'll do what, sweetheart?"

"Augh!"

Y/N screamed, jumping back and tripping over the corner of the couch, falling onto his back with his feet landing on the cushions in a very sitcom-like manner. The sudden voice nearly gave him a heart attack, and his brain was short-circuiting, unable to think straight.

When he looked up, he saw Jason standing in his balcony doorway, his frame taking up the entire space, and a smirk on his face. A smirk that he had very much missed seeing, but for right now, the mushy feeling stuff was going to have to wait as he had about a week's worth of anxiety, worries, and fury to unleash on him.

"Miss me?"

"You asshole! What the hell?!" Y/N yelled, grabbing the closest thing to him, a pillow, and throwing it at him before grabbing his shoe and running over to beat him with it, "Where the hell have you been?! I haven't heard from you in a week and no one in your family has either, and you show up here asking if I miss you?! You fucking wish!"

"Whoa, okay. Calm down," Jason chuckled, stepping forward and grabbing the Omega's wrist.

"Don't tell me to calm down, you idiot," Y/N hissed, trying and failing to remove his arm from the Alpha's grasp, his grip like iron. He forgot how much he missed Jason's strong grip.

Get those dirty thoughts out of your head.

Y/N continued to beat him with his sandal until he heard a faint growl and felt himself being tackled roughly back onto the couch, the air leaving his lungs.

"Ahh," Y/N breathed, his eyes squeezing shut from the impact.

"Enough, Y/N," Jason growled, his tone low and husky, sending a shiver through the Omega's body. His larger body and hands effectively had him pinned down, the smell of his pheromones and his natural scent filling his nose.

"Uh, uh, mister! You don't get to be bossy Alpha after you've had me and everyone else worried sick for almost a week, you hear me? I oughta-"

Y/N was cut off as the Alpha leaned forward, his nose nuzzling against the skin of his neck and breathing deeply, inhaling his scent. The sudden closeness had the Omega's mind reeling, his hands instinctively gripping the Alpha's muscular arms.

"Uh- I... I oughta– Whoa, um...what are you doing?" Y/N stuttered, his heart pounding in his chest.

"God, you smell amazing," Jason purred, his voice a low rumble.

"Excuse me?"

"Your scent, it's amazing," Jason said, his teeth grazing the skin of the Omega's throat, his tongue licking a stripe across the pulse point.

Y/N let out a surprise gasp, his hands gripping the vigilante's biceps as the Alpha licked and kissed at his neck, breathing his scent in. While he was very shocked by this behavior and was still worried about him, he couldn't deny the extreme arousal he was feeling.

Jason was a big guy, not just height-wise but in terms of muscle mass and body size. So, the fact that he had him pressed underneath him on his couch, his large hands roaming his body, his mouth and nose kissing and sniffing at his neck was causing him a little issue with his underwear and the slick slowly starting to coat it.

"J-Jason, what are you doing?" Y/N breathed.

"I wanna fuck you," Jason said bluntly, pulling his head away from the Omega's neck and looking down at him, a feral look in his eyes.

"What?"

"I wanna fuck you, breed you. Need you," Jason growled, his hips grinding down onto the smaller males, the friction and the pressure of the Alpha's cock rubbing against his own Omega genitals pulling another gasp from him.

Then, a scent caught his nose. Jason's scent...

Y/N could smell the pheromones radiating off the Alpha, the scent of wood burning in a fire, leather, and hints of cinnamon filling his nose. He didn't even realize his hands were now pressed against the broad chest of the Alpha until he felt the toned muscles underneath his shirt.

"You're in your rut, aren't you?" Y/N realized.

Jason didn't make a sound, but if the way his head moved up and down as he ground himself into the Omega while still attacking his neck and scent glands, that was confirmation enough. He ran down Y/N's body, moving to grip his waist so he could force him to move back against him.

"Fuck, why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't wanna hurt you," Jason grunted, his nose pressing into the crook of the Omega's neck and breathing deeply, his hands moving lower and gripping his thighs.

"Oh, Jason," Y/N gasped, the name slipping out as he felt the Alpha's large, rough hands move underneath his shirt, caressing his stomach and sides, "Come on, we gotta get you something to help you calm down."

"Can't wait. Need you now," Jason groaned, his hips thrusting faster.

"Jason, you can't. Not down here. Someone could see through the balcony door," Y/N argued, though the protest was weak as the Omega was losing the fight against his own arousal.

That was apparently enough to get the Alpha to see reason as he paused his movements over the Omega, but only for a moment.

"Fine, have it your way," Jason grumbled, standing up from the couch, grabbing the Omega, lifting him into his arms, and throwing him over his shoulder, his hand slapping his ass, the sting shooting straight to his core, "Let's go."

"H-Hey! Jason! Would you hold on for a second, you damn brute," Y/N cried, his arms and legs flailing.

Jason didn't listen, walking towards Y/N's bedroom instead of the bathroom where Y/N intended for them to go, not paying attention to the Omega's squirming and his hand slapping his ass again, pulling a yelp from the Omega.

It wasn't a long walk until Jason reached the Omega's bedroom and threw him on the bed, the smaller male bouncing as he landed, almost untying itself from the force.

"Shit, Jay," Y/N huffed, the air getting knocked out of him.

"Take your clothes off," Jason ordered, his voice deep and gruff.

"I'm sorry, what?" Y/N asked, not expecting that order.

"Take. Your. Clothes. Off," Jason repeated, his hands working on removing his jacket and his shirt.

Y/N could feel the small gush of slickness that came out of him as the Alpha removed his clothes, revealing his incredibly toned and muscular body, his abs rippling as his arms lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it somewhere in the room. Y/N could see the sizable print of the Alpha's dick bulging in his pants, making him gulp.

"Jason, can we pause for like two seconds and talk about this," Y/N started, his eyes wide and staring at the man's naked torso, "We can't just-"

"Y/N, take your clothes off, or I'll do it myself," Jason growled, his eyes staring intensely at the Omega, the feral look and the slight glow of his green irises made the Omega shudder.

"You wouldn't dare," Y/N challenged.

"Try me."

Before Y/N could argue or say anything, the Alpha was on top of him, his fingers gripping his shirt and tearing the fabric, a rip echoing through the room. While Y/N was still shocked by the surprise move, he grabbed the ripped shirt and used it to tie the Omega's hands together, keeping him from pushing him away.

"Jason, what the absolute fuck?" Y/N asked, trying and failing to break free of the Alpha's restraints, his wrists and forearms tied tightly together, the shirt acting as a makeshift rope.

Any other person and Y/N would've been able to break out of that makeshift bondage before they could even blink. Jason on the other hand was trained by Batman. He'd doubt if he could get out of this shit by the time the sun came up.

"What? It's not like you're not gonna throw it out anyway," Jason answered, not stopping his movement as he removed the rest of the Omega's clothes, ripping his pants off and leaving him in just his underwear.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that, you bastard?" Y/N spat, not liking the feeling of him not being in control in this situation.

"So I've been told. Now, are you gonna be good and do what I tell you, or are you gonna fight me the whole time?" Jason asked, leaning over the Omega.

"You've got a lotta nerve coming in here and bossing me around, you little shit, especially after you ghosted and ignored me all this week," Y/N spat, glaring up at the Alpha.

"Yeah, I'll apologize for that later," Jason said, leaning his face down and burying his nose into the crook of the Omega's neck.

"You bet your ass you will. And, stop smelling me," Y/N protested, trying to pull his neck away.

"Shut up, I'm trying to focus," Jason grunted, his teeth biting the skin of the Omega's throat.

"Not until you explain what the hell is going on with you," Y/N responded his neck closing, preventing the Alpha from more access to his skin.

Jason's lips curled up into a snarl, the green in his eyes flashing before his tongue darted out, licking a stripe across the Omega's closed neck, the action pulling a gasp from him.

"Dammit, Y/N, just shut the fuck up and let me think," Jason growled, his hand running along the side of the Omega's body, his nails grazing the skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Think?! Think about what, you big oaf? How you came in here after disappearing on me for a week and expecting me to just let you fuck me because you're in your rut? Or, how you're gonna get yourself arrested when someone hears the neighbors getting dicked down?" Y/N replied, trying and failing to ignore the shivers that were going down his spine.

"Would you stop worrying about stupid shit and focus on me," Jason demanded, his hand gripping the Omega's jaw, turning his head and forcing him to look at him, his eyes shining in the dim light of the room, "I've gone through a week of pure fucking hell, and I'm not about to have you ruin the one relief I have right now."

"Relief?! You're lucky you were smart enough to restrain me because if you didn't, I'd be tearing your ass a new one right now," Y/N sneered, his anger rising.

"Good luck with that," Jason chuckled, his knee rubbing the inside of the Omega's thigh.

"Don't touch me, you jerk," Y/N said, trying to close his legs.

"Don't fight me, Y/N," Jason growled, his nails digging into the skin of the smaller male's jaw, his teeth clenching, "I've been locked in my apartment for almost a week, jerking my dick and using a pocket pussy, and none of it's been satisfying. If you keep fighting me, I'm not gonna be so nice."

"You've been masturbating for a week and nothing is helping?" Y/N questioned, his eyes wide.

"It's not enough," Jason answered, his nose nuzzling the crook of the Omega's neck, his teeth grazing the skin, his hot breath hitting his pulse point, "Nothing is enough."

Y/N took a moment to pause, assessing everything around him and giving his anger and attitude a few seconds to simmer down before this got more out of control than it needed to. Jason never acted this aggressively towards him, and at first, he thought it was because he was rutting. But, thinking of some of his other friends who were Alphas, he never remembered them going this far, acting like a completely different person who didn't care about the other person's wishes. And he knew that was far from the Alpha in front of him and his regular behavior.

As far as he could ever think, Jason would never do anything to hurt Y/N or push him into something he didn't want to do. He could be a bit protective at times, not wanting the Omega to get hurt or come into contact with any danger. And, he could also be a bit of a flirt when he was comfortable, constantly teasing him and saying suggestive comments. But, the fact that he was currently holding him down and threatening him, even being in his rut was concerning.

"Jason, when was the last time you had a rut?"

"Almost a month ago," Jason murmured, nuzzling his face against the jaw and neck, making his way down to his chest while his hand softly caressed his body.

"And did you have someone to help you through it?" Y/N asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"No," Jason replied.

"Why not? Didn't you have anyone else who could help you through it?" Y/N probed further.

"Didn't want to risk it with anyone. So, I dealt with it on my own," Jason explained, his teeth biting and sucking the skin of the Omega's collarbone, leaving small hickeys.

"And how long have you been dealing with it on your own?"

There was a moment of silence as Y/N felt the kisses and bites to his skin pause for a second. Then, he heard a soft grunt, and the kisses and bites continued.

"How long, Jason?" Y/N pressed.

"A while."

"Be more specific."

"I don't fucking know, alright? Almost 3 years, maybe more," Jason snapped, his nails suddenly digging into the flesh of the Omega's sides, pulling him against the Alpha.

"Jason! Three years?! Do you know how dangerous that is?" Y/N cried, looking at the Alpha with wide eyes.

"Of course I do, idiot. But, it's not like there are many options for an Alpha vigilante who's supposed to be dead," Jason grumbled, his tone laced with a hint of sadness.

"Then, why didn't you ask Bruce for help? Couldn't he have gotten one of his doctor friends to prescribe you some Feromexin or Feromine-X to help with the ruts?" Y/N argued, not understanding the Alpha's decision.

Jason raised an eyebrow at the Omega's question, feeling a spike of anger at the implication of his words.

"How do you know about the suppressants for Alphas? You been fucking another Alpha or something, sweetheart?" Jason growled, the slight tint of green in his eyes seemingly flaring up.

"No, dumbass. I have friends and family who are Alphas, and I did some research on the internet," Y/N answered, not liking the tone the Alpha was using.

"Why were you doing research, huh?" Jason hummed, his grip on the Omega's waist loosening, his hands moving to grab the Omega's ass, his fingers kneading the cheeks, a moan escaping the Omega's mouth, "Did you find something you liked, baby?"

"Jason, for the love of God, focus damnit! Answer my question," Y/N almost snapped, which was very unlike him.

"Oh, my fucking god. I don't know, okay! They don't work for me anymore," Jason yelled, his voice rising.

"What do you mean they don't work for you anymore? What did you take?"

"Feromine-X. And, I mean, they've just stopped working. After I was resurrected, I guess, my ruts have just gotten stronger, and the suppressants don't do shit for me," Jason explained, his voice becoming more agitated.

"Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you go to Bruce for help? Or Dick, or Alfred, or anyone?"

"Because I don't want their damn pity, okay. It's bad enough I'm the 'dead Robin', but now I can't even handle my ruts like a normal Alpha and have to depend on everyone else for help. I don't want others having to take care of me, and I especially don't need it," Jason growled, his hands gripping the Omega's thighs, his nails digging into the skin, his teeth clenching as his anger rose.

"But, I like taking care of you," Y/N murmured.

Jason's gaze immediately softened, his eyes staring at the Omega's, his lips falling open.

"What?"

"I like taking care of you. Whenever you'd come to me, needing stitches or painkillers, or when you'd just show up and we'd hang out, I didn't mind. I always wanted to help. I like spending time with you, and I wanted to make sure you're okay and safe. You could've come to me for help if this was really affecting you so badly," Y/N answered.

"Y/N, I can't ask you to do that. This isn't your responsibility," Jason said, his grip on the Omega's wrists and his thighs loosening.

"Um, considering the way you kind of barged in here, basically abducted me to my room and how I'm sitting here tied up by the tattered remains of my own shirt, I'd kinda say you basically almost made it my responsibility so...I mean, I'm just saying," Y/N said.

Jason stared at him for a moment before chuckling, his shoulders shaking.

"Why do you always have to go and make me feel like an idiot?" Jason laughed, his hands gently rubbing the Omega's thighs.

"Because it's what I do best," Y/N teased, a small smile coming to his lips.

"God, I missed you," Jason said, his arms wrapping around the Omega and his face burying itself in the crook of his neck.

"Missed you too, pasty," Y/N cooed, his hands rubbing the Alpha's back.

"Why you gotta bring my skin color into this again," Jason grumbled, his fingers pinching at the Omega's side in retaliation.

"Hey, don't take it out on my melanin, white boy," Y/N giggled, squirming underneath him.

"You're such a brat," Jason growled, his teeth nipping at the Omega's throat.

"And you're a big jerk."

"I'll give you a big jerk," Jason muttered, his hips grinding against the Omega's, his cock pressing against the Omega's clothed and wet privates, "So, you still willing to help me through my rut?"

"Hmm, well, you're not exactly my type of white boy," Y/N joked, pretending to scan the Alpha up and down.

Jason gave him a warning growl, his teeth giving a harsh bite to the Omega's shoulder.

"Fuck, okay, yes, I'll help," Y/N whimpered, feeling his slick still wetting his underwear and now his sheets under him.

"That's what I thought," Jason smirked, his hands gripping the Omega's waist and bringing him into his grasp, his face diving back into the crook of his neck.

"Ah! On one condition, though," Y/N conceded.

Jason paused with an agitated huff, his aggressiveness returning slowly as he felt himself finally getting closer to getting what his body was craving, "Name it."

"You tell me when you're in trouble, and you don't keep things from me. You keep me in the loop and let me take care of you when needed," Y/N told him, his eyes serious.

"Fine. But, that goes both ways. You're not allowed to hide things from me, and you can't keep shit from me. Understand, brat?" Jason negotiated.

"Yes, massa," Y/N teased, leaning up and nuzzling the Alpha's cheek, a purr rumbling in his throat.

"Smartass. Now, can we please fuck?" Jason asked, his patience growing thin.

"Yeah, yeah. Go ahead. Just remember, be gentle, okay," Y/N chuckled.

"Hah, after calling me white boy and massa? No, no. You deserve whatever you're gonna get," Jason grinned, his hands slipping between the Omega's thighs, spreading them, and rubbing the soaked spot of his underwear.

"Ah fuck. Well, can you at least untie me?" Y/N moaned, his head falling back onto the bed, his legs twitching.

"Nah, I kind of like having you helpless and unable to fight back," Jason smirked, his teeth biting the hem of the Omega's underwear and ripping it off him, leaving him bare.

"Asshole."

"But, you still love me," Jason cooed, his hand caressing the Omega's body.

"Maybe a little," Y/N admitted, his heart rate speeding up.

"Good. Now, shut up and don't move," Jason ordered.

Jason pressed his face between the Omega's legs, getting a full whiff of the natural scent that came off him, a deep, sweet but light musky scent. His tongue darted out, licking a stripe along the folds of the Omega's opening, the taste of his slick on his tongue making him groan.

Y/N moaned and tensed up, his hands moving up to grip the pillow behind him. He'd had sex plenty of times, but this was different. The number of times Y/N had woken up from a wet dream that detailed this kind of moment between him and the vigilante was countless, and the fact that it was now becoming a reality was adding to the euphoric feelings starting to overwhelm his mind and body

Jason's tongue circled around the Omega's entrance, teasing him. He felt a wave of possessiveness come over him as his hands grabbed beneath the bend of the smaller man's knees to push his legs up, further exposing his shiny. slick-covered hole to him.

Pressing his nose against the entrance again, he took a small whiff before attaching his lips to the wet organ and pushing his tongue inside. Both men released filthy noises as Jason all but devoured the smaller man in front of him, inside and out.

"Jason, fuck!" Y/N cursed, his hands flying down and his fingers tangling in the Alpha's hair.

Jason growled, his hand reaching up and grabbing the smaller man's wrists from his hair, pinning them down against his stomach. He pulled away to look at the Omega through the gap between his spread thighs.

"I told you to stay still," Jason growled.

"Sorry, sorry. I'll be good, promise," Y/N whimpered, his chest heaving.

"You better," Jason warned, his grip tightening around the Omega's wrist before releasing and returning to his task, "Keep these here."

Jason's tongue plunged back into the Omega's core, his mouth sucking and slurping at the slick and its addictive taste. He continued eating out the sensitive and twitching hole, his tongue grazing across the hot walls and his pleasure crux.

He moved his hand up to where he was lapping at the hole, slick dripping from his chin as he prodded a finger around the entrance before slowly pushing the digit inside. Y/N squirmed at the tickling sensation while doing his best to remain still, even though another side of him desperately wanted to misbehave and poke at the Alpha's patience.

Jason pushed his finger inside, the wet muscle coating his finger and making it easy for him to press his middle finger inside. His tongue licked around his finger as he roughly pumped it in and out, barely giving any time for him to adjust before adding a second finger.

"Jason, oh, shit. Wait, wait, slow down," Y/N panted, his head tossing and turning, his fingers pulling at his own hair.

Jason ignored his pleas, his fingers stretching and curling inside the Omega, scissoring and opening him up. Y/N's whimpers and cries were going straight to his dick, the sound music to his ears.

"Shit, ah fuck! Jason, you're going too fast."

Y/N cried out as he felt a third finger enter him, the stretch burning slightly. Jason continued his movements, moving his mouth away completely as he opted to watch the Omega squirm on his fingers with a prideful look.

"Stop looking at me like that," Y/N whined, his face blushing red as he unconsciously tried to close his legs which did not go unnoticed by the vigilante. He didn't take kindly to the Omega giving him orders, curling his fingers inside and delivering some harsh movements that managed to hit his pleasure spot, causing him to cry out.

"I'll look at you any way I want to," Jason said, his eyes roaming the Omega's body before he suddenly paused his movements.

Y/N looked up in confusion before gasping at the suddenly empty feeling, Jason removing his fingers before grabbing at his still-tied wrists. He looked up to the Alpha who was staring down at him with an intense look that had him nervously fidgeting on the bed.

"Wanna keep acting like a brat, fine. I'll treat you like one then," Jason declared.

The vigilante untied the tattered shirts from around Y/N's arms, giving him only a split second of freedom before he flipped him over roughly, placing a harsh slap on his bottom that had him crying out. He grabbed the smaller male's arms again, this time folding them behind his back and tying the shirt around them in a tight hold while the Omega softly whimpered against the sheets from the rough manhandling.

He could feel his hole still dripping as he listened to the sounds of zippers and clothes rustling, his anticipation and anxiety rising.

"Jason, what are you–"

"Quiet," Jason ordered, his voice low.

"But-"

"I said, quiet dammit," Jason repeated, his hand landing another slap on his ass, the sting shooting straight through his spine.

Y/N gasped at the sting, doing his best to hold back the tears starting to pool in his eyes before he felt the Alpha grabbing him and pulling him off the bed, placing him on his knees on the floor in front of him.

Jason stood before him in his full naked glory, the sight causing his mouth to water. He wasn't a stranger to seeing the Alpha's body, considering he'd spent a considerable amount of time patching up his various wounds multiple nights in a row. But, this was the first time he'd been able to see his whole body. And, was it a sight to behold.

Jason was a big man, and his dick was no exception.

The enlarged organ definitely looked like it could do some damage, with a considerable length and a girth that had his insides fluttering in anticipation or fear. Possibly both. Actually, very likely it was both.

It was a wonder how the Alpha was able to hide that thing, especially underneath his skin-tight vigilante suit, or how anyone could handle having him inside. He knew Alphas' cocks tended to grow in size during ruts, but this was something else.

"Oh fuck–" Y/N muttered, his arousal spiking which the rutting Alpha picked up on if the jump in his throbbing dick was any indication.

"Open your mouth," Jason ordered, his hands running through the Omega's hair.

"Fuck, Jason. I don't think–"

"Did I ask what you think or did I tell you to open your mouth?" Jason gripped the Omega's hair that was now uncovered from the durag slipping off while Jason fingered him.

He pulled the Omega's head back, before grabbing his penis with his other hand, tapping it against the Omega's mouth, smearing the leaking pre-cum over his lips.

"I said, open up," Jason said, the tone in his voice signaling this was the Omega's last chance before the Alpha did it for him.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, looking up at the Alpha. He prayed that his past few experiences would be able to match up to this, but he didn't have much time to prepare himself before Jason took it upon himself to force the Omega's mouth open, giving the cockhead the opening it needed to enter the wet cavern.

"Fucking little brat, clearly we need to work on your ability to listen to orders," Jason grunted, his hips jerking forward and his dick pushing deeper into the Omega's mouth.

Y/N let out a muffled cry, his hands twitching and his fingers gripping his forearm, trying his hardest to ignore the tears that were now freely streaming down his face. Jason gave a few experimental thrusts while his hands held the Omega's head still, the tip of his penis already pressing against the back of his throat.

The Omega could feel how much his lips were stretched from just the little few inches he had inside. It was almost a wonder how his jaw wasn't aching. But, that wasn't a luxury he had as the Alpha started to pick up the pace, the force of his thrusts pushing more of his cock down the Omega's throat.

Y/N's eyes widened, his vision blurring from the tears, and his eyes rolling back into his skull, his mind focusing only on the thick cock currently fucking his throat and the lack of air entering his lungs. He could feel the pressure and pain in his jaw increasing, his mouth being used like a fleshlight for the Alpha's pleasure.

Jason's animalistic grunts along with Y/N's choking and gagging noise filled up the room as the vigilante had his way with the smaller man. Y/N's instincts were to try and push back against the muscular hips thrusting into his mouth, but, once again the Alpha was a few steps ahead of him as his arms struggled in their binds behind his back, leaving him no other choice but to sit there and receive the aggressive and brutal treatment.

Jason was losing himself in the pleasure, the Omega's tight and wet mouth and throat feeling heavenly around his cock. He'd been dreaming about this for so long, and he wasn't going to hold back.

After a week of hell alone in his room with his hand and cheap fleshlights, he was finally getting the relief he needed. Now, all that was left was for him to get his knot inside the Omega and truly relieve his pain.

The Alpha looked over into the large mirror the Omega kept in his room, watching the bound smaller man sitting on his knees for his body, helpless against the Alpha's stronghold and cock. His Alpha pride was skyrocketing through the roof.

After just a few more minutes, he removed his dick from the Omega's mouth, the puffy, swollen red state of his lips leaving a satisfied and smug smirk on the Alpha. He leaned down and grabbed the Omega under his shoulder before throwing and slamming him down on the bed, forcing his legs apart again.

Y/N let out a choked gasp as the wind was knocked out of him. His face was a mess, with tear tracks running down his face, his jaw aching from the rough mouth-fucking he just received.

He heard the Alpha rummaging through the bedside table, his hands blindly searching the contents before finding the packet he was looking for, before suddenly giving an accusing look.

"Why do you have a knot condom?" Jason asked, his voice gruff.

Y/N recognized the possessive and slightly angry look that was common in all Alphas, cursing on the inside of his head. He'd forgotten that was in his nightstand.

"Um...that's, uh, a funny story," Y/N chuckled nervously, his heart rate speeding up.

"You fucked another Alpha during his rut?" Jason growled.

"Yes, but it was with one of my past flings," Y/N admitted with a nervous tone, "We were never serious, but he asked me to help and I agreed."

It was silent for a moment as the vigilante stared him down, his gaze dark and dangerous, his eyes narrowed on the Omega. Y/N's mind raced, hoping the Alpha wouldn't get too angry, knowing how much their ruts could drive up their territorial attitudes.

"How many times?"

"Huh?" Y/N replied, confused.

"How many times did you let him knot you," Jason repeated his grip on the condom's package tightening.

"I don't know. It was a rut! How am I supposed to remember how many times we did it," Y/N responded, his own irritation starting to grow.

"Were they his condoms or did you buy them?" Jason questioned, his eyes narrowing.

"His. I made him buy extra in case we ran out."

Jason was silent for another moment, taking another look at the open drawer before turning back to Y/N with a daunting expression.

"This is the only one left, so it looks like you went at it a few times. Guess that means I've got a lot of work cut out for me," Jason tore the package open and slipped the latex rubber over his penis, "And since it's the last one and only one you have, well, I hope you're suppressants have the added birth control," He said before getting on the bed and pulling the Omega towards him by his legs.

"Jason, you better be fucking joking. You didn't bring any extra condoms?" Y/N demanded, his eyes widening.

"Most don't fit me anymore since my dick grew a little more, let's hope this one is up for the job," Jason smirked while positioning himself at the Omega's entrance.

"Jason Peter Todd, I fucking swear if you knock me up–"

"Ah, quit your whining," Jason interrupted, pushing the head of his dick against the Omega's fluttering hole, the slick already coating the covered organ, "It's not like we don't have other options. Accidents happen all the time."

"Screw you, asshole," Y/N groaned, his teeth clenched.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm gonna do so much more than that," Jason grinned, his hands gripping the Omega's waist and his hips shoving forward.

Y/N cried out, his arms straining and his legs tensing as his body flailed underneath the Alpha's massive frame from the intense stretching he felt as his hole and walls tried to adjust and push out the intruding cock. His body arched into Jason's chest as the Alpha's dark head of hair nudged its way into the Omega's neck, his lips kissing at the juncture between his shoulder and neck.

Jason wasn't that quiet or still either, his body shaking and his breath stuttering from the euphoric feeling of the Omega's hot, tight walls wrapped around his cock. Even through the rubber, the wet heat around him had him desperately wanting to rip the condom off so he could feel the full flesh surrounding him.

"Shit, you're so fucking tight. Gonna ruin you for anyone else," Jason growled, his hips slowly pushing more into the Omega's while biting and sucking the sensitive skin.

"Ah, ah, J-Jason, wait," Y/N gasped, his head tossed back, his chest heaving, his body squirming from the uncomfortable and painful stretch.

"Fuck, just shut up," Jason grumbled, his hands wrapping around the Omega's neck and gripping his hair while moving to press his lips against Y/N's in a rough kiss.

He pushed himself more into the Omega, the latex-covered tip of his cock grazing past the Y/N's prostate as he whimpered and cried into the kiss, his feet pressing into the bed as the intense feeling of his body stretching around the Alpha started to overwhelm him.

Whoever once tried to say the big and massive guys had small penises clearly had not met Jason before, or just didn't understand body proportions and anatomy. Either way, the throbbing and large organ currently trying to park itself inside the Omega was a strong testament to how wrong they were.

There was no possible way Y/N was going to be able to walk properly on his own legs after this. Jason was going to have to carry him for the next few days, which judging by earlier, he probably wouldn't have any issues with it.

"Oh god, fuck. You're so big, I can't," Y/N whined, his back arching as his arms and hands struggled against the binds.

"So I've been told," Jason whispered, his lips kissing the side of the Omega's head, "Am I bigger than him? Better?"

"Fuck yes," Y/N moaned, his eyes squeezing shut.

Jason held a cocky grin at this, feeling himself getting closer to bottoming out inside the Omega, "Good, 'cause you're not letting him or anyone else near you again. This belongs to me," He growled, flexing his dick inside the Omega pulling another whine from the smaller male.

"Ah, ah, no. Please, please," Y/N pleaded, his toes curling.

"Say it," Jason growled in his ear, jerking the hold he still had around his neck and in his hair.

"Belongs to you. No one else's, only you." Y/N babbled, his body twitching.

"Good boy," Jason cooed, his lips attaching themselves to the Omega's neck and sucking a hickey.

When Jason fully bottomed out, he paused his movements, his forehead resting against the Omega's shoulder. He took a deep breath, the scent of the Omega's sweat and natural pheromones overwhelming him.

Both had a light sheen of sweat over their bodies, Jason's from his spiking body temperatures and Y/N from the Alpha's body over him and the slight physical exertion he was going through. The Alpha's breathing was harsh, and his grip on the Omega tightened as he tried to keep himself in control.

Before long, Jason was pulling himself out, leaving just the tip inside before thrusting back in, earning a cry from the Omega beneath him.

"No, stop! Just, ah, give me a second," Y/N begged, his eyes shut tightly, his nails scratching and digging into the palms of his hands.

"Shut up," Jason growled, his nose nuzzling the crook of the Omega's neck.

The Alpha continued his movements, only increasing his pace and intensity, his hands squeezing around the Omega's neck as his hips snapped into him. Jason's grunts and Y/N's moans and cries filled the room, along with the sound of skin slapping against each other and the rattling of Y/N's bed frame.

Jason stared into Y/N's eyes with an intense focus as he pounded into him, the sight of the Omega's tear-stained face and pouty red lips increasing his drive even more. They hadn't been fucking more than five minutes, yet Y/N looked like his soul was ready to depart his body.

Jason knew his size and stamina could be a lot to take in, and the fact that Y/N was already a mess had him feeling a sense of pride and satisfaction. His eyes broke their hold with Y/N's raking down the rest of the Omega's body.

The Omega's smaller pecs were moving up and down with his body as Jason pressed more into him. He could tell the Omega was getting antsy by not being able to move his arms while being fucked within an inch of his life, adding even more to the Alpha's dominant ego.

A few minutes passed as Jason continuously rutted into the Omega, his fingers pressing into the Omega's neck more, slowly taking away his breath, which put the Alpha on a power high. After another few seconds, he paused his movements, taking a moment to catch his breath and release his hold so that the Omega could also have the chance to breathe in new air while pulling himself out.

"Turn your ass over," Jason instructed with a pat to the Omega's thigh.

"Geez, can you give me a sec," Y/N wheezed, his head tossing from side to side.

"Nope." Jason grabbed him by his waist and flipped him onto his stomach, forcing him on his hands and knees to present himself before the Alpha.

"Asswipe," Y/N mumbled into the sheets.

The Omega yelped when he received another slap on his sore ass, loud and sharp, the sting and burn shooting through his entire body.

"What was that?" Jason asked.

"Nothing," Y/N muttered, his voice low.

"That's what I thought," Jason said, his finger brushing down the curve of the Omega's spine, before positioning himself at the Omega's hole and showing himself back inside.

Y/N's face fell onto the bed with a scream at the force, the strength leaving his body as he moaned sheets as Jason pounded him from behind. His hole was spasming around the Alpha's cock, preparing itself for the inevitable knot that was going to enter into him soon.

Jason grabbed his ass cheeks, spreading them so he could better see his cock entering in and out of the Omega's wet and stretched hole. The sight of it gives him another ego boost, slapping the Omega's ass to signal his satisfaction while continuing to plow his insides.

Y/N continued crying and moaning into the bed, which Jason didn't quite appreciate. His mind was suddenly filled with the image of another random Alpha making his Omega scream and cry on their dick and knot in this very room for the neighbors and anyone else nearby to listen.

With that thought in mind, he leaned down to grab the Omega's hair, pulling him off the bed and against his body while keeping his thrusting in a steady rhythm. His other hands rubbed down the Omega's sweaty body before reaching down to stimulate him from the front, adding to his pleasure and increased cries.

"No hiding those sweet sounds from me, baby. In fact, you better scream louder so the whole damn neighborhood knows who you belong to," Jason growled, his hand tightening its hold on the Omega's hair.

Damn Alphas and their possessive ass attitudes. Y/N didn't even want to imagine the looks he was going to get from his neighbors if any of them could hear the two. The walls weren't that thick.

"You're gonna be my good little cum dump, aren't you," Jason grunted, his hand rubbing against the Omega's front while his hips slammed against his ass, "Gonna take my knot and everything else I got."

"Yes, Jason... oh fuck," Y/N gasped, his head thrown back.

They'd fucked like rabbits in that position for some time, Jason's stamina being no joke. But, as his knot started to grow, he was forced to flip the Omega back over onto his back, his thrusts becoming shorter and sharper.

Y/N had begun to squirm once again under the large Alpha, feeling the dick inside him start to swell even more. He could only hope it wouldn't actually tear him in half as so many other people liked to play around and say.

Careful what you wish for folks.

"Jason, oh fuck, for the love of– please, slow down," Y/N begged, his head tossing and turning, his bound arms straining.

"Can't, too close," Jason groaned, his thrusts picking up speed.

"I can't, fuck, please!" Y/N cried.

"Quiet," Jason's hand smacked against the Omega's mouth, muffling his voice, "Stop squirming. Stay the fuck still," He growled.

Y/N whined underneath the Alpha's palm, his body still twisting and struggling. Jason's body was covered in sweat as he pistoned in and out of the Omega rapidly, slowly losing his rhythm as he could feel his knot forming.

"You're gonna be all mine from now on, brat. Hope you were really serious about earlier, 'cause you're only gonna be taking care of me from now on," Jason declared, his teeth biting and nipping at the Omega's earlobe.

The harder Jason's thrusts became, the closer both he and the Omega began to near their release. The Alpha's hand once again found its way around the Omega's neck as he continued to muffle his noises while now taking his breath away.

"Take it, dammit," Jason grunted, his hand pushing the Omega's body further down into the bed.

Y/N's body shook and trembled, his legs shaking and his toes curled. A few seconds later, he was letting out a muffled scream as his body shook with release, slick mixed with his cum squirting from his body and around the Alpha's cock that was now just rutting into him as his knot was about to pop.

"Yeah, there you go," Jason groaned, his own hips stuttering as the Omega's orgasm brought him over the edge, "Shit, here it comes, baby. Take it, fuck, take it all," He growled, his hips slamming all the way in him.

Jason's body stilled, his knot fully expanded and his dick released a massive load of cum, filling the condom inside the Omega's body. His arms wrapped around the smaller male's waist, holding him close as he rode out his orgasm.

Y/N whimpered, his body shaking and twitching from the sensation of the knot filling him, his body feeling utterly exhausted but also saturated from the hard fuck he'd just received.

Jason held him still, his chest heaving and his forehead resting on the Omega's shoulder. Their bodies were a mess, their skin glistening in sweat, their limbs tangled, and their heavy breathing the only sounds heard in the room.

The vigilante felt slight exhaustion, but also an overwhelming amount of relief. The pain of his rut subsided after finally getting to knot an Omega.

Not just any Omega though, the Omega of his dreams.

It was crazy that after one crazy and rough fuck, your feelings could become so obvious. Jason was in love with Y/N and had been for a while. Just needed a little push to realize that.

Of course, this could also be the high amount of endorphins running through his body but let's go with the first one since it's more romantic.

The Alpha rolled the two of them onto their sides, careful not to cause any pain or discomfort, their bodies still tied together.

"How are you feeling?" Jason asked, his tone much softer and calmer compared to his previous demeanor.

"Sore," Y/N said, his voice hoarse.

"Sorry, guess I got a little carried away," Jason smiled sheepishly, his hand rubbing the Omega's cheek.

"Maybe just a tad bit," Y/N teased

"Shut up. Don't act like you didn't like it," Jason chuckled.

"Mmm, I never said I didn't like it," Y/N smirked, his eyes looking down to the swollen knot still firmly plugged inside him.

"Brat," Jason scoffed, his hand swiping at the Omega's side.

"Asshole," Y/N replied.

The two sat in silence, taking the moment to breathe and collect their thoughts, Jason's hands the smaller male's body.

"Jason," Y/N called, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

"Hmm?" The Alpha hummed.

"I think the condom broke," Y/N informed, his eyes glancing toward the Alpha.

Jason's eyes widened, his hand moving down to the base of his penis where the knot was starting to shrink. The latex did not seem to have held up against the pressure of his knot, as he could see some unsettling stretches and tears at the base of the rubber around his dick.

"Fuck," Jason cursed.

"Yeah...welp, no better time to test the effectiveness of Omega birth control than now," Y/N commented.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry, I should've–"

"Hey, hey, calm down. It's okay. We're not exactly virgins here. I've had a few flings and I'm sure you have too. Accidents happen," Y/N reassured, paraphrasing Jason's words from earlier

"I guess," Jason muttered, still feeling slightly guilty.

"Jay, stop worrying. Like you said, there are other options. And besides, we've got more pressing things to be worried about," Y/N stated.

Jason gave the Omega a curious look, "Like what?"

"Like me having to draft a formal response to the black collective of how I let myself be colonized by a white man," Y/N deadpanned.

"Fuck off," Jason rolled his eyes.

"Are you, a white man, trying to silence a black voice? During Black History Month? I thought black lives mattered."

Jason gave the Omega an unimpressed look, "Y/N, it's April."

"Oh, so black history is only contained to one month?"

"You know, I really can't stand you sometimes," Jason said.

"But, you still love me," Y/N responded, once again mocking the Alpha's words.

Jason felt a smile coming over his face, leaning down to place a kiss against the smaller male's lips, "That I do."

Y/N smiled, not realizing the implication of Jason's words before both of their attentions were pulled to the jerking feeling down below. The Alpha's knot had released, but Jaon's dick was once again standing at attention, clearly ready for another round.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Y/N groaned.

Jason smiled sheepishly at him, "Sorry, sweetheart. I'm in a rut, and I've got some makeup to do for lost time if I want to get it back to normal. Hope you didn't have any plans for tonight...or tomorrow."

"Fucking hell," Y/N huffed, his head falling back against the pillow.

"Well, can you at least untie me?" Y/N asked, gesturing to his still-bound arms.

"Hmm, nope," Jason denied.

"Fuck you," Y/N scowled.

"That's the plan."

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

625 notes · View notes

crguang · 16 days

Text

just one taste

morning quickie with kafka because we all deserve it <3

gn!reader, smut, service top!reader, power bottom!kafka (HEAR ME OUTTTT), fluffy fluff, oral sex, 3k words

A/N: i could’ve made this so pathetic and yearnful but i spared you all because it’s already disgustingly cute.

“Keep those off,” you gesture groggily to your own eyes with a finger, brows furrowed in a sleepy daze, and Kafka pauses in front of the mirror, “and come here.”

You run a hand over your face as Kafka smiles in amusement from her seat at her makeup vanity. You turn to the digital clock on her bedside with narrowed eyes and the glaring numbers it displays offend you. It’s 6:27 in the morning, sun rays paint the bed sheets in soft colors and you force yourself to sit up against the pillows. Kafka glances to where your shirt rises up your stomach when you stretch your arms above your head, uninterested in your personal battle with consciousness as you rub the sleep out of your face. The bridge of your nose scrunches up comically with a yawn and hours of moving around has messed up your hair, there’s a small pimple growing near your hairline that you’ll undoubtedly scowl at later and yet Kafka finds all these mundanities beautiful. How silly.

“Why?”

She places the contact lens back into its case and rests an elbow on the vanity table, her cheek in her palm and fondness in her gaze reflected by the morning light.

You frown at the question like the answer is as obvious as the blue in the sky. “Because I want to see you; it’s too early to hide. Why are you still over there?”

She only smiles at your reasoning. “I have to pick up something before the mission.”

“Do it later.”

Kafka sighs in pretend exasperation and rises to her feet. She’s fully dressed in her usual attire save for her lack of shoes and her steps are silent as she makes her way to the bed.

“Can’t argue with that logic,” she teases.

The mattress dips where her knee sinks into it. You scoot over a little to create some space and Kafka falls back onto the covers. You waste no time in laying your cheek on her chest and wrapping your arm around her waist. You sigh as your thigh lodges itself between hers. A hand gently strokes your hair almost instantly afterwards. It would’ve been easy to fall back asleep this way, but once you’ve fully woken up it’s always an inner struggle to return to that state of peaceful unconsciousness. Kafka’s an early riser, so she’s careful not to disturb you when she slips out of bed to get ready for the day; she’s generally silent in all she does, anyway.

You welcome the stillness of the morning and the quiet of the room as you bask in her touch. In a few hours she will have to leave with Blade to complete another part of Elio’s script and her presence has been fickle as is. You have your own missions to complete, with and without some of the other Stellaron Hunters. Time isn’t often on your side so you cherish these moments where everything is light; the rising sunshine, her fingers through your hair or under your shirt, your tranquil heart. Kafka loves to act like she’s indulging you, sighs and reluctantly complies as if you’re forcing her hand, when the truth is much simpler. It was funny and endearingly charming the first time she held you close to her chest and you felt the drumming of her heart, quick as one of her bullets. You enjoy how guarded she is because you get to unravel her like a present, and what’s hiding within those colorful layers is someone so easily understood.

You lift your head to look at her, chin resting between her breasts, and meet her eyes. Without her contacts they reveal what she would rather stay away from sight. She’s even prettier up close. Kafka raises a questioning brow when you fail to contain a smile.

“It’s nothing,” you softly shake your head. Kafka’s free fingers slowly trail down your earlobe to your jaw.

“You’re such an open book,” she says with a small smile, eyes narrowing.

“Yeah?”

She hums. Her round nails scratch your cheek. “Too open for your own good.”

You know why she has those walls around her; knowledge is power and the less others know about her, the bigger her advantage. A sensible reasoning, but you find it exhausting and unnecessary. Being connected to your feelings doesn’t make you irrational and has never hindered your competences as a Stellaron Hunter. Her ability to get under people’s skin while revealing none of her intentions does make Kafka an exceptional poker player, though. You still owe her two thousand credits.

“Should I hide my emotions like you do?”

“No. This is how I like you, after all.”

“Oh, you like me?” You drawl teasingly and your grin widens when Kafka rolls her eyes. She pinches your cheek with two fingers.

“Sometimes.”

Using a hand on the bed to steady yourself, you lift your body to hover over hers. The hand in your hair descends to rest on your waist, squeezing once. You glance at her peach colored lips and watch the way they stretch further into a knowing smirk. When your gaze flicks back to hers, you lean a little closer.

“You know…” you trail off, “…I think I like you too.”

“‘That so?”

You nod. Kafka cups your jaw and rubs the skin with a forefinger. There’s a familiar glimmer in her eye as she speaks.

“How much?”

You don’t expect the question, so you pause for a few seconds. Kafka revels in catching you off guard, it makes her feel powerful in a way you don’t entirely understand. She awaits your reply, raising an eyebrow at your silence.

“I don’t know,” you finally answer pensively, looking away as you think. “Nothing of what we’ve gone through so far has tested the limits of how I feel for you.”

“How you feel for me, huh?”

“Mmm. When I look at you, I see the ocean.”

Your home planet had begun suffering the effects of a Stellaron long before you were born, turning most of it into a dry desert. You’d heard of the long, flowing rivers and gentle lakes growing up and those were just made up images in your mind for a long time. The sea was an even bigger myth, harder to picture because of its boundless proportions; it was impossible to imagine thousands of miles of water and depths no one could explore. You still remember the slow blinks of Kafka’s eyes when you admitted it to her years ago after she’d mentioned it in a sentence. The first time you saw the ocean, her hand was in yours. You stood, wide-eyed and speechless at the limitless expanses of royal blue, with the wind in your ears and grains of sand between your toes. You felt small, insignificant in a way that filled you with relief. In front of something so grand, you could be anything and it wouldn’t matter. Kafka’s open gaze was on you as the waves crashed to the shore like she was looking at the sea through your eyes and drinking in your wonderment. When you turned to her with parted lips, you felt breathless in the exact same way.

Kafka’s mask doesn’t crack but without the contacts she can’t hide the way her pupils dilate a few millimeters at your easy confession. Her mouth is frozen in that usual smile, the fingers on your skin have stopped moving, and you grin when you realize she’s so surprised she doesn’t know what to say. She’s quick to regain her composure though.

She effortlessly brings you closer and her breath fans over your lips when she replies, “Cute. I was expecting something better, though.”

“You’re such a fucking liar—“

Kafka cuts you off with a longing kiss and the rest of your sentence dies in your throat. You taste her lipstick as her mouth presses to yours and the hand on your waist gives it another squeeze. Her lips part to deepen the kiss, her tongue softly meets yours, leaving you breathless. You’re reduced to putty above her and she’s aware of it. Slow, languid kisses have a way of softening your bones and making you light until you’re like an inflating balloon drifting through space. With only the movement of her mouth, you forget everything that’s happened prior. Her kiss is the river Lethe and you are made anew with each one pressed to your lips.

You chase her lips when she pulls away and a short chuckle sounds from her throat. The hand around your jaw grips it tighter, keeping you in place.

“What is it you were saying?” She asks playfully, eyes flickering between yours.

“I really don’t care.” You pout when you try to lean forward and fail due to her hold on you. “Let me kiss you.”

“Ask nicely.”

“Please let me kiss you.”

“That doesn’t sound like a question.”

You swallow a whine and take a breath. “Can you please fucking kiss m—“

Her fingers suddenly squish your cheeks, making your entire face scrunch and your words incomprehensible. You look like a fish as she hums disapprovingly.

“I’m not sure I like this filthy little mouth of yours. Try again.”

She releases you. You smile sweetly.

“Can I kiss you, please?”

Your stomach tightens at the satisfaction on her face. She brings you closer a second time and plants an indulging kiss on your mouth. A sigh almost escapes you at the feel of her. You let her lead, happy to be along for the ride. The hand on your waist slips under your shirt to trail up your back and press you further against her body. The pace quickens a touch as she caresses your skin and you refuse to pull away for air until you feel the intoxicating pounding of your brain inside your skull.

You’re in a daze when you separate from her lips and exhale sharply through your nose. Her pretty lipstick is smudged from your kiss; the sight fuels the lustful embers in your belly. Kafka doesn’t protest as you press kisses across her jaw, just sinks her fingers into your hair with an amused chuckle. Your mouth follows a nonlinear pattern on her face, from the skin of her jaw to the apple of her cheeks, on the bridge of her nose and the corner of her eye. You wish to kiss every inch of her until you can map her body with only your mouth. It’s easy to lose yourself in her as she welcomes your affection with breathless kisses against your lips.

You only pull away to adjust your position over her, thighs on each side of her hips and back arched as you bend to kiss her once more. One of your hands is planted on the bed to support yourself while the other fiddles with the straps of her shirt for a minute before you make a noise of frustration into Kafka’s mouth and raise your upper body in order to properly see the buckles of her outfit. They’re easier to unfasten with both hands.

“Someone’s needy…” Kafka’s eyes narrow in amusement at your unsteady manipulation of her clothes. She simply watches your struggle for a moment.

You stop fiddling with her clothes to lean in and press a few kisses into her neck. Her head tilts to allow you better access and you take that opportunity to graze your teeth against the skin near her jawline, not quite marking it because she’ll be leaving soon and won’t have time to cover herself up.

“We have time, right?” You mumble into her neck, tongue darting out to lick at her skin. “I really want you…”

Kafka glances at the digital clock on the nightstand and turns back to you with a daring smile. “If you’re quick.”

You nod quickly and that pulls another quiet laugh out of her as you move to unclasp the button of her high-waisted shorts in record time. Your hands sneak under her shirt to feel the plane of her stomach. You lean in for a kiss as they travel up her torso and squeeze her breasts over her bra. Fingers slip under the offending garment to replace the padded cups with your palms, and a hum reverberates through Kafka’s chest when you swipe a thumb over her nipple. You keep her mouth busy with needy kisses, tongue swirling around hers. You pinch her hardening nipples in the way she likes, roughly and when she least expects it, and you’re rewarded with a soft sigh against your lips.

If you had the time, you would have been patient and fondled her chest until it flushed under a thin layer of sweat. You would have brought your mouth to her nipples, grazed your teeth over their sensitive tips and suckled them until Kafka’s exhales could be heard. You don’t have the time, so you settle for applying pressure on them in tight circles until they feel like the pink marbles she keeps in a box on her vanity. One of your hands abandon her chest to slip into her unbuttoned shorts.

“Wanna taste you,” you mutter into her mouth as you feel the thin fabric of her underwear. Your middle finger rubs her sex over the material and it sinks effortlessly between her lips. “Please?”

“Mm…” Kafka places two hands on your shoulders and nudges you firmly down her body. “Go ahead, baby.”

You straighten up to slide the clothes past her hips and down her legs until they’re pooling at her ankles. You trail open-mouthed kisses up her thighs as you settle between them, occasionally biting and sucking the soft flesh, leaving behind already fading bruises. The dark reds match her hair color, you notice.

Kafka’s fingers tangle comfortably in your hair. She guides you to where she wants you the most and you use two fingers to spread her slick lips apart, almost moaning at the sight of her so ready for your mouth. You kiss around her cunt, then remember that you’re on a clock and lick a long stripe up her slit. You hum in pleasure at her tangy taste as your tongue teases the base of her clit. Kafka sighs above you, long and drawn out. Her clit pulses on your tongue when you take it between your lips and suck. Your fingers explore between her folds in a sensual massage that only makes her wetter, and it feels like a reward the moment her thighs close in around your head. You lap up her cunt like a thirsty kitten, reveling in her quiet moans and hums. You flick your tongue up and down her slit, greedily swallowing her arousal.

“Mm…” Kafka doesn’t muffle her appreciation, the hand in your hair pushing you closer to her cunt until the tip of your nose tickles her clit. Her hips begin to follow the pace of your tongue. Her voice is an amused drawl as she speaks, “You’re like a— ah— an eager little puppy…”

You can’t help the whine that escapes you as you squeeze your thighs together, and Kafka chuckles at the sound only for it to shift into a soft moan when your middle finger pushes inside her cunt. You steadily pump the digit into her, feeling her walls clench around you. Your lips and chin are coated in her slick and you bring your attention back to her puffy clit, swirling your tongue around the bud until Kafka’s thighs squeeze your ears, a silent request to give her more. You add a finger inside of her and curl the digits to graze the spot that makes her curse. A glance upwards shows Kafka’s features twisting in pleasure, lips parting. She’s beautiful like this, and you wish you could see the way her bare breasts rise and fall with each breath.

“Oh…”

You know she’s close to the edge when her cunt sucks in your fingers and her clit throbs in your mouth. You flatten your tongue to swallow more of her arousal and let her grind her pussy further into you. Kafka isn’t shy or ashamed, her throaty moans excite you and only incite you to make her feel as good as you can. The coil in your stomach tightens when she traps your head with her thighs, uncaring of whether you have difficulty breathing or not. She’s drunk on her own pleasure and her free hand snakes under her shirt to pinch her nipple, building her orgasm until you feel her cunt squeeze your fingers like a vice. Her hips stutter a couple times and with a hard suck on her clit, Kafka comes into your mouth. You’re surrounded by her, your senses can recognize only her taste and her smell and the harmonious sounds of her moans as she bucks against you. You help her ride the waves of her orgasm with the flat of your tongue against her folds.

Kafka takes in a deep breath as her high slowly fades away and her hips settle back onto the bed. You clean her up with soft kitten licks and the fondness in her gaze while she looks down at you makes you want to eat her out until she can’t control the tremble in her thighs. Her short nails scrap your scalp for a moment, then she uses the grip in your hair to pull you away from her cunt. She brings your face close to hers with a teasing smile and sloppily kisses the pout off your lips.

“Look at that,” she breathes out when you pull away and glance at the shiny pinks of her lips, “you made it with some time to spare.”

Kafka matches your growing grin and pulls you into another messy, sticky kiss. Somehow, she makes it out of the bedroom in time and is ready to set off for the Xianzhou Luofu with Blade exactly as Elio foresaw it. If he notices the spring in her step, he doesn’t say a word.

#honkai star rail #hsr kafka #hsr #hsr x reader #kafka x you #kafka x reader #kafka smut #hsr smut #hsr x you #gn!reader #hsr fluff #kafka fluff #dom!kafka #dom!hsr

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ozzgin · 3 months

Text

Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (III)

On your travels with the two demon companions, you stumble upon a fortified village plagued by monster attacks. It would be quite unlucky if the grand finale happened just as you step foot inside, right? Worry not, you're saved by a third mysterious yokai that you immediately recognize. The harem grows!

Content: female reader, monsters, violence

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guide]

“Alright, how’s this?”

You do a clumsy pirouette before the two yokai men.

“That’s...are you sure?” Kiritsubo eyes you, mildly confused. “It’s usually what men wear.”

Of course, you already know. After weeks of walking through feudal Japan, you’ve reached the conclusion that modern clothing isn’t the most practical choice. Not to mention the strange looks you always get from other people upon your arrival in any village. You needed something to blend in, and the typical fashion for your gender might not be compatible with your training. You’d rather not swing a sword while covered in multiple layers of kimono.

Thus, you opted for the hakama pants typically worn by men. With your hair tied up and in this baggy attire, one could think you’re a young samurai. If they squint enough. You chuckle at the thought.

“She’ll wear whatever allows her to not be a burden.” Murasaki concludes with crossed arms.

One way to put it, you tell yourself.

“If you’re done discussing fashion, we can leave.” The dark-haired man continues with indifference, standing up and adjusting the swords in the folds of his sash.

Both you and Kiritsubo hurry and follow behind obediently.

“Where are we going this time?” You ask sheepishly.

“South-west. An old residence of his, although we will have to pass through a fortified settlement first. We should reach it before sunset.”

It’s hard to imagine you’re the supposed savior in this equation. Murasaki has been leading you by the hand each step, carefully considering every detail on the map, and extensively planning your travels every evening. All this on top of your daily training. You’ve now mastered the basics with the katana he’s provided you, as well as some common prayers for exorcising small-class demons.

You glance at the daisho pair of swords under his belt. A long, thin blade, and a shorter backup version, both in elaborate matching scabbards meant to showcase the status and wealth of the samurai wearing them. In this case, meant to express his rank as the advisor and right hand of the famed onmyōji. You certainly don’t doubt Nakamaro’s decision to rely on Murasaki.

In comparison, Kiritsubo carries a nagamaki at his waist. A comically long blade in your opinion, used mostly to bring down horses during battle. Any regular sword would’ve been too small for him. Despite his imposing appearance, you’ve learned rather quickly just how different Kiritsubo is from the other yokai. He’s quite clumsy in combat, often anxious about making mistakes, terribly apologetic, and overall has a heart too kind for his own good. If there’s hesitation coming from his side, Murasaki immediately follows with his ruthless, ending blows. As a matter of fact, even you’ve had to do the occasional killing to spare the man of such choices.

The silver-haired demon notices your eyes on him and smiles, excited. He reminds you of a large dog. A horned, fanged dog of monstrous strength, nonetheless the innocence is there. And he does make a great travel companion.

“How much longer?” You grunt, looking up.

“Are you tired? I can carry you for the rest of the way-” Kiritsubo instantly offers but is interrupted by Murasaki’s barked orders.

“She can walk. Don’t spoil her.” He glares at you, then nods ahead. “We’re almost there, so quit your whining.”

True to his word, you can finally discern the outline of a wall at the top of the hill. A few more steps, and you can even spot two guards standing beside the great gate.

“Stop there!”

The soldiers lift their spears threateningly. Before you can react, Murasaki steps in front of you with a hand placed on his sword.

“We’re just passing through.” He states factually.

“We’re no longer allowing visitors.” One of the guards exclaims. “The village has been raided by monsters recently and our Lord has closed all gates until the matter is solved.”

“That means no filthy demons go in.” The other adds in a mocking tone, his gaze lingering on the horns of your companions. His mouth curls in disgust.

You can tell Murasaki is angered by the disrespectful approach. He is not one to let such insults slide and you’d rather avoid him claiming unnecessary victims; therefore, you push past his arm and plant yourself ahead with a polite greeting bow.

“These yokai are with me. I vouch for their good behavior, so please consider letting us through. Perhaps we can even help you with these monsters.”

“You? How would you…”

The man stops abruptly, switching between you and the yokai. Eventually he inspects your scabbard, and he gasps, confusion twisting his features.

“Could it be? No…He’d be dead by now.”

“What are you talking about?” His partner inquires impatiently.

“That’s the family seal belonging to Abe no Nakamaro.” He explains, pointing to the golden finish at the end of your katana handle. “I’ve heard about him from my grandparents. But it’s been decades!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re saying this kid is a legendary onmyōji?”

“Who else would show up with demons as servants? Everything matches. Perhaps his powers have finally reached immortality”, he concludes solemnly.

The men continue their argument, and you clear your throat, embarrassed. What the hell? You can’t possibly look that manly. Sure, you’ve been skipping the makeup, and the clothes aren’t exactly curve shaping, but to be mistaken for an old man is like a slap to the face.

You’re about to deny their claims, but Murasaki swiftly pinches the back of your neck, and you wince. He lowers himself to your ear and whispers:

“This will be to our advantage. Just go along with it.” “Fine!” You mumble angrily. Then you turn back to the guards.

“V-very well, I see I haven’t been forgotten.” You admit, theatrically. “Lead me to your Lord and we shall discuss the details of your monster attack.”

Thus, you sip on your tea, kneeling at the luxurious table and awaiting the arrival of the feudal Lord. The servants are exchanging words, gossiping fervently next to the wall. “I wonder if he can cure my daughter!” one woman mumbles, visibly emotional.

“Do you think we can finally be saved? He’ll truly exorcise the beasts tormenting our village?” another whispers.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead and glare at Murasaki. You had no idea he’d given you Nakamaro’s old sword. Now you’re stuck pretending to be a pompous, long-dead asshat.

“What if they catch us?” You hiss between your teeth. “I don’t know shit about onmyōdō.”

“Then I’ll just kill them all. Simple as that.” The crimson-eyed man retorts, unconcerned. “Have a little fun, won’t you?”

“W-we’ll help you come up with answers, (Y/N). Don’t worry.” Kiritsubo chimes in, trying to reassure you.

You sigh in frustration and look out the window. The sun must’ve set a long time ago and has since been replaced by a pitch-black sky. What’s keeping the Lord? Surely, he can’t be having important business meetings late at night.

Almost as if your thoughts were read, the door slides open and a servant wobbles in. The rest of the household workers are silent, expecting the entrance of their master, but no one is following behind. You observe the bizarre limp of the woman. Suddenly, she collapses to the floor, revealing her bloodied back torn by deep wounds, caused by some sort of claw. Her body is stiff.

Panic settles in right away, and the servants topple over each other to get away from the fresh cadaver. You struggle to get up among the terrified crowd, but thankfully Murasaki grabs your wrist and pulls you out into a quieter hallway.

“What the hell?” is all you manage to say.

“Rotten.” Kiritsubo furrows his brows, sniffing the air. “Someone in here must be possessed. Could be more of them.”

Murasaki surveys the surroundings and gestures towards his partner.

“We have to see if the Lord is still alive. You go that way. I’ll take the front. Kill everyone suspicious.”

“What about me?” You demand, holding your breath.

“Get out and wait for us. You know how to draw a protection circle, don’t you? I won’t take long.” The dark-haired yokai answers before vanishing.

Judging by the screams and wails coming from all directions, you suspect Kiritsubo is right about multiple attackers. You sprint across the hall, looking for an opening. The self-defense lessons didn’t cover cursed humans with demonic powers. You’ll stay out of this one.

What an absolute mess. You have encountered some demons in your weeks spent here, but nothing to this degree. When the guards mentioned a monster attack, you imagined a ghost with a grudge, or some small fry yokai scaring the workers at night, not a mass curse that ends in a massacre. Of course, it had to happen the moment you arrived at the main house.

You find a room with a door leading to the inner courtyard. Seems isolated enough and it should provide a bit of shelter while you wait for the pair to finish the business. As you rush past the dead bodies, you notice a woman hiding behind a screen divider.

“Ah! It’s you!” she yells, aware of your presence.

From the shadow of her secret spot emerges the small frame of a child. The woman pushes the little human towards you, blocking your path.

“Don’t worry, he’ll protect us.” she gives her child another nudge. “Go on, hold onto him. You’ll be safe.”

What? No, no, no, no, no. Not happening. You’re getting out.

“Ma’am, sorry to break it to you under such circumstances, but I’m not-”

You’re interrupted by a loud growl. One of the possessed creatures must’ve followed your scent, and it’s now sliding into the room on all fours with the bones of the limbs twisting and creaking in unnatural pounces. You purse your lips in a frightened grimace. One advantage of the wide hakama pants – useful to know – is that no one can see your knees shaking cowardly.

Theoretically, you could use the brat as bait and run for your life. It’d make a decent obstacle. Unfortunately for your life span, you’ve been gifted with an idiotic sense of duty instead of survival instincts.

“Keep your distance. If I can’t kill it, get out and don’t look back” you advise, positioning yourself in the learned stance and sliding the sword out of its sheath.

Damn it! Then again, it should be like fighting a zombie, right? Given the pathetic way it drags itself around, it can’t be too difficult to hit. Aim for the head, you repeat in your mind. Your fingers grip around the handle.

The ghoulish beast lowers itself, like a spring about to recoil, and leaps across the room with an ease you did not anticipate. Despite your iron hold, it slaps the blade out of your hands with enormous force. The impact breaks your skin, and you wince. There’s no time to weep, within seconds it could go for your vitals next. While Murasaki hasn’t gotten around to teaching you much hand-to-hand combat, you’ve read your fair share of shounen manga. The first idea that comes to mind is to put the beast in a sumo lock. You bend your knees smoothly and wrap your arms around the monster, feeling for something to hold onto. You grit your teeth and attempt to lift the creature.

A thundering laugh resonates within the walls, and you jolt, startled.

“I never thought I’d see the mighty Abe no Nakamaro wrestling with ankle biters like this. What are you going to do, throw it out of the ring?”

The voice is deep, loud, and unfamiliar. You can’t afford to look back to see the source, but it’s not hard to figure out the possibilities. So far, you’ve only been called by that cursed name by the yokai accomplices. Although now is not the best time to seek revenge.

“Shut up, I panicked”, you snap in frustration. “If you can’t help, keep that trap closed!”

The sudden burst of anger seems to have triggered something within your body, a power you don’t recognize. You watch as your arms effortlessly pick up the monster and swing it across the room, its body demolishing the opposing wall and causing thick clouds of dust to rise and spread everywhere.

The impact must’ve alerted the nearby ghouls, as you can now hear the agitated trample and screeching rapidly approaching. You’re not confident you can pull the same lucky move a second time.

You turn to search for your sword, but it’s already being handed to you by the mysterious yokai who’s been observing your little fight. You have to step aside and tilt your head all the way back in order to fully view the gigantic frame of the man.

Ah, you recognize the features immediately. The same kind of fear you felt when you stumbled upon that old shrine statue is now tugging at your chest.

“You’re Suma, right?”

A proud, wide grin forms on his face, revealing a pair of glistening fangs. His expression is unexpectedly soft and friendly.

“We’re halfway through our introductions then, eh?” You pick up the sword and his fingers stretch out for a handshake. “What is your given name? I’m guessing you don’t willingly go by that…title.”

“I very much prefer (Y/N), yes.” You marvel at the significant difference in size, placing your small hand in his. “Was that your power I just used?”

“Mhhm. You sure surprised me there! It’s not something I did intentionally, but I s’ppose we just resonate that well, huh?”

He laughs again, completely unbothered by the impending danger.

“Alright, you can leave the rest to me. Take the lady outside, it will get a little messy.”

And with that, he casually walks towards the gathering of ghouls. You guide the family to the courtyard and wait for the battle to end.

“Do you think she’ll be fine by herself?” Kiritsubo is resting against the fence, keeping you under a watchful gaze.

“Let the humans sort it out among themselves.” Murasaki responds, somewhat bored.

The morning after the attack, you offered to deal with the survivors: ask them how everything started, if they’d noticed anything suspicious days prior to the event, and if the route to Nakamaro’s old residence was still open. The yokai men had found the feudal Lord in the jaws of a possessed creature and he quickly succumbed to his wounds. Consequently, only the remaining servants could provide them with clues.

A village being targeted like this is highly unusual, and Murasaki can’t shake the feeling it could be related to their master.

“Oh, where are you heading after this?” The silver-haired yokai glances at Suma, sitting lazily next to them.

“Where? After you just told me the whole story? I’m way too invested in this modern reincarnation that just popped out of nowhere, so I’m tagging along!” He announces with a chuckle.

Murasaki frowns.

“We don’t need your help.”

“Don’t be like that.” The giant man pouts dramatically. “Are you upset I saved (Y/N) before you?”

“W-we were on our way!” Kiritsubo retorts, visibly bothered.

“It’s a done deal!” Suma rests his hands under his head and yawns. “Besides, the little human already said he doesn’t mind.”

“He? (Y/N) is a woman.”

The redhead abruptly sits up and gasps.

“Wait, what?”

“Don’t get funny ideas, man”, the silver-haired demon warns.

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