#but then on my dash it's like. oh you were feeling bad? too bad there he is. another reminder 👍

[lordprettyflackotara]

if u think i’m pretty || chris sturniolo

SMUT. 18+. Minors DNI. tw: hate fucking. lots of it. bickering while fucking? idk you get the gist. finally got around to writing about chris. can you believe i scrapped like 5 fics? 🥴 yeah me either! also, sequel with matt if yall want it ;)

“Christopher fucking Sturniolo!”

Your words were laced with venom, the staircase rumbling beneath you as you stomped upstairs. Faintly you could hear Matt call out for you, your mind too filled with rage to hear him properly.

Pornographic moans flooded your eardrums as you reached Chris’s room, your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. Your closed fist rattled his door, the dramatic moans coming to a screeching halt.

“Open the fucking door dickwad!” You screamed. Impatiently you tapped your foot, deciding he was taking too long. You grabbed the door handle, (surprised to find it unlocked), and swung the door open.

It was almost comical watching Chris and a girl you didn’t know scramble to get themselves dressed.

“What the fuck are you doing in here? Get the fuck out! Haven’t you ever heard of privacy?” Chris spat, shoving his gray sweatpants on. For a brief moment you felt bad for the girl, her waterline filling with tears. She was just one of many you had seen this week. You grabbed a shirt you presumed to be hers, handing it to her. You took a deep breath, containing your anger as you looked at her.

“Please get dressed and for the love of God, find someone better to fuck,” You sighed. The blonde was gone in a flash, practically sprinting out of Chris’s room. You crossed your arms, shooting lasers out of your eyes as you glared at the brunette across from you. Oh, only if looks could kill.

“I’m not believing my phone magically teleported into the dishwasher of all places,” You snarled. Your phone had been missing for six hours straight, your iphones location still saying it was at the triplets house. You had dragged Matt and Nick all around their house, searching from the ceiling to the floor. When you had finally accepted defeat, you had opened the dishwasher to grab a bowl to make a snack.

And to your displeasure, your phone was sopping wet, sitting in plain sight on the rack.

“You have zero proof I did that, literally zero,” Chris argued. Your eyes briefly flickered to his exposed chest, the amount of skin throwing you off. You shook your head, showing Chris your ruined phone. “Really? Because I can’t recall the last time you did dishes but you magically did them last night,” You snapped. Chris shrugged nonchalantly, a cocky smirk creeping across his lips.

“What can I say? I figured i’d help out the household,”

That’s it.

You chucked your phone at him, the brunette dodging the attack by seconds. It was ruined away, even the rice method was unable to save your phone. It smacked against the wall, the sound making Chris jump. “Maybe your phone wouldn’t be ruined if you weren’t having very LOUD phone sex with your boyfriend!” Chris yelled. You threw your hands up in the air, completely dumbfounded. “What are you talking about? Why would I ever-” You began arguing, before it clicked.

You weren’t having phone sex with anyone, that was for sure. But you stayed over at the Sturniolo household frequently, to the point where you were there more often than you were home. As much as Chris drove you insane, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. The concept of the attraction being forbidden, soured by years and years of bickering, did something inside of you.

You could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, even though you didn’t want it to. Chris snickered at your loss of words, shooting you a genuine smile. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” He teased. In a swift motion you dashed across the room, your palm connecting with his cheek. Your tension with Chris had never gone beyond yelling. He had never crawled under your skin so much before, embarrassment seeping over you as you thought about the whole house hearing what he said.

A long pause silenced the room, the sound of the slap echoing through out your ears. Chris took a moment to process what you had just done, before his sharp gaze meant yours. His hand flew to your throat, gripping the sides as he threw you against the nearest wall. The air was knocked out of your lungs, your body in fight or flight mode. He easily towered over you, his sharp blue eyes filled with rage.

“You’re such a fucking whore,” Chris grumbled. He squeezed the sides of your neck harder, a whimper escaping your lips. His grip loosened, his attention fully dedicated to the sound you had made. The brunette tilted his head to the side curiously, as if he hadn’t believed what he just heard. “Did you just whimper?” He questioned. You shook your head no, Chris’s knee spreading your legs apart. Testing the waters, he brought his face closer to yours.

“You know, your little stunt prevented me from finishing earlier. Perhaps you’d like to help me out,” Chris purred, the glint of lust in your eyes telling him everything he needed to know. You rolled your eyes, your heart beginning to race as his body pressed against yours. “If you’re going to kiss me get on with it before I change my mind,” You said plainly. Chris’s grip on your throat tightened, your airway becoming restricted.

“You’ve always been a mouthy one,” He muttered, roughly bringing his lips to yours.

Chris hated how good you tasted, how good you smelled. He hated how your skin always looked so soft, your lips so plump. He despised how confident you were, always charging into everything in your life head first. What Chris actually liked, was that you challenged him. He knew that his infatuation with you wasn’t actually feelings, just raw and untamed lust. But fuck, with your lips against his, it made him want to change his mind.

The two of you clawed off each other’s clothes, discarding the clothing to the floor. Chris’s tongue swiped across your lower lip, before sliding inside. His kisses were rough and sloppy, your body addicted to the electricity he made run down your spine. You pushed him harshly against the bed, his back hitting the soft mattress underneath him.

You straddled him quickly, attempting to take control of the situation. Ever so slowly you grinded your wet cunt against his exposed shaft, a groan escaping his lips. Chris cockily put his hands behind his head, admiring you. “Go ahead, get yourself off just by grinding on me. You can do it pretty girl,” Chris instructed. You felt heat dash across your cheeks at the sound of his praise, your hips moving seemingly on their own.

Curses left your lips as you threw your head back. “Making me get myself off since you can’t do it? Figures,” You managed to say, your movements becoming more desperate. Chris leaned forward on his elbows, watching your cunt slide up and down his shift. “I’d watch your words ma, i’ll overstimulate you until you’re nothing but a cock craving whore,” Chris warned. His warning felt real, the threat in it seeking genuinely true. Even if you didn’t want to believe it.

Chris bit his bottom lip as you shamelessly grinded against him, every little movement providing pleasure to your clit. “You really think i’d fuck as many girls as I do if I couldn’t make them cum? I thought you were supposed to be smart,” Chris said coldly, mockingly tilting his head to the side. Your gaze landed back on the man beneath you, ignoring his cock in between your folds. “Yeah? I thought I was supposed to be overstimulated by now. What happened to that?” You challenged.

He was quick to change positions, your back landing against the mattress before you could think. He roughly spread your thighs apart, shoving two fingers into your cunt. A gasp of surprise was ripped from your throat, his spare hand resuming its place as your personal collar. Chris’s name spilled off of your lips as his fingers curled inside of you, his name becoming a sinful mantra. “What happened? Not so cocky now are we?” Chris taunted, watching you fall apart on his fingers.

The sight of you was enough to make his cock throb, his body craving attention. Chris remained focused, determined to corrupt you. “Open your fucking mouth slut,” Chris ordered. You so without a second thought, flattening your tongue across your bottom lip. He gripped your face harshly, leaning over and spitting into your mouth. “Swallow it,” He growled, watching you intently. You did as you were told, swallowing his saliva. You felt humiliated as it slid down your throat, the feeling euphoric.

“Thats a good girl, now why don’t you cum on my fingers for me? Hmm?” Chris asked. His words of praise made the rope inside of you snap, your orgasm washing over you without warning. Your vision went white, your thighs trembling as Chris removed his fingers from your aching cunt. You watched as he sucked them clean, maintaining eye contact with you as he did so.

Still coming down from your high, you put every last bit of energy into rolling your eyes. “Are you going to fuck me or just stare?” You asked. Chris’s cocky smile fell, replaced with a frown. “Nothings ever good enough for you, is it?” He replied, crawling on top of you. He brushed the tip of his cock up and down your folds teasingly, enjoying hearing you audibly whine for him. “Why’d you destroy my phone?” You asked, your coherent thoughts interrupted by him shoving himself inside of you.

You both moaned in unison, the unholy sounds vibrating off of the walls. “Why’d you decide to have phone sex in my house?” Chris gritted out, sliding himself further into you. He had more girth than you expected, your walls struggling to accommodate his size. “I asked you first dipshit,” You spat, fighting back a groan as he slid in further. Chris could feel your walls spasming around his cock, the sensation enough to make him cum right then and there. But he knew you’d never let him live it down.

“Yeah? Well I asked you second,” Chris replied, bottoming out inside of you. The tip of his shaft brushed against your g spot, the slightest movement of his hips making you whimper. “If you must know I wasn’t having phone sex, dumbass,” You said honestly. Chris pulled his hips back at a teasing rate, entertaining the argument. “Yeah? So what were you doing?” He questioned, doubting what you were saying. His hips bucked back into yours, hitting your g spot purposefully slow. He was drawing his thrust out, enjoying the sight of you squirming beneath him.

“I-I was thinking of you, alright? Now are you going to fuck me or what?” You rambled, embarrassed by your confession. Chris paused for a moment, soaking in your words. He leaned forward, his breath hot against your ear. “Is that so? Well, I destroyed your phone because I got jealous. You belong under me, just like this, taking my cock,” Chris purred, ignoring the embarrassment of his own confession. He pulled back slightly, allowing the two of you to make eye contact.

Out of breath and desperate, both of you panted as you stared into each other’s eyes. “Well, in that case, you better get on with it,” You said weakly. The same cocky smile that you hated plastered across his lips, his hips bucking into yours quickly. Your nails dug into his back as his hips continued to slam into yours, his cock buried inside of your cunt. Chris couldn’t hold back his own groans, your walls milking his cock dry.

With glazed eyes he met your gaze, relishing in the sound of your groans, chanting his name. “Open your mouth for me,” He ordered, his cock abusing your cervix. Chris enjoyed that you didn’t hesitate, obeying him without a second thought. He put two fingers into your mouth, shoving them as far back as he could. “Now fucking suck them slut,” He growled. With each degrading word you squeezed him harder, your body snitching on your hidden desire.

“You look so pretty like this, when you aren’t yapping that mouth of yours,” He huffed. A painful whine came from his lips, your nails purposefully digging deeper into his back. You pathetically bobbed your head up and down on his fingers, concealing your smirk as you heard him in audible pain. Chris slithered his spare hand down to your cunt, drawing fast and sloppy circles around your clit.

“Go on, cum for me. Cum on my cock like the good girl you are for me,” Chris panted. The extra sensation was enough to make you throw your head back, Chris’s fingers still lodged in your mouth. Your warning of your orgasm was muffled, your thighs shaking violently under him. The sight was going to be burned into Chris’s memory forever, the feeling of your cunt spasming around him giving him an undeniable ego boost. He fucked you through your orgasm, becoming preoccupied with chasing his own.

His fingers roughly grabbed your waist, fucking you rougher. “Shit, i’m gonna cum,” He admitted. Chris watched, mesmerized as his cock slid in and out of your cunt. “Where do you want it?” He asked, his hips beginning to stutter. You grabbed him by his throat, dragging him towards you. You put your mouth next to his ear, smirking as you told him, “Inside of me.”

You filthy fuck. For the first time your name fell from Chris’s lips as he came, his warm seed flooding your cunt. In unison you both tried to catch your breath, Chris carefully slipping out of you. The room was silent, besides desperate breathing, a knock came from Chris’s door.

“Yeah?”

“Your uh, doordash is here dude,” Matt said awkwardly. You could hear him place a bag in front of his bedroom door. “Thanks,” Chris replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Hey Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time maybe fuck a little quieter, Nicks pretty pissed.”

You exchanged glances with Chris, watching as he shoved on a shirt.

“You heard him, be quiet next time,”

“Next time? There won’t be a next time. Mr.I lasted thirty seconds.”

The sound of you two bickering made Matt roll his eyes, causing him to walk away. He wondered if you both would ever get married, or if you both would hate fuck forever. He shrugged at the idea, heading back downstairs. All Matt knew for sure, was that your moans made him cum the hardest he ever had. And that, was enough for him.

#chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x y/n #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut

[puppyeared]

adhd comix

#man i dont even have the energy to be mad. im just tired #like. dont u love it when your parents exhibit symptoms of ADHD and your sibling is diagnosed with a learning disability #and instead of thinking oh shit what if the other one has smth too. they subject you to The Horrors #i cant bring myself to hate my parents. but im tired of feeling obligated to defend them when the thing they think is working #isnt actually working and ive just found other ways to cope to avoid any sort of conflict. like lying and stealing. lol #if someone took me aside and said 'hey so your brain doesnt make as much dopamine as usual and its not a bad thing it just means you #need external stimulation and reward system to function and youre not actually secretly fucked up or lazy' as a kid #im pretty sure i wouldnt be here rn with half the problems i already have. unfortunately getting diagnosed late means u dont have a teacher #to back you up at a parent teacher conference that forces your parents to take this shit seriously instead of ignoring it hoping itll #go away on its own. but hey what do i know i have squirrel ipad baby disease. what do i know about my own symptoms #AND. AND i think im allowd to be mad bc ive been doing my own research on this for years before and after diagnosis #theyve been putting me thru the WORST parenting techniques on earth. which they could have corrected at anytime but they were #comfortable thinking they were doing it right and didnt bother to check if they were or werent fucking up their kid in the long run #and refusing to acknowledge it. i just!! they just decided one day hey lets make babies!! and just looked at books on how to make #a human being survive as long as possible!!! what the fuck!!!! #im sorry for putting this on ppls dashes but i am. so tired. of bottling this up. and im not looking for sympathy or anything i just need #to scream and clench my fists to SOMEONE about it because theyre not gonna take this well up the ass. sigh #yapping #vent

[risingsunresistance]

if we're mutuals and i unfollow suddenly and you happen to take notice of it, please do not take it personally i still love my friends n whatnot i am just. getting very tired and need to cut down the mcyt content on my dash

and if i unfollow and refollow a couple times that is just me testing the waters jdhfj idk what i wanna do man i just have to do something for my mental health

#im gonna try my best to not up and leave bc *i* still enjoy posting #but it's been 6 months and some posts still make me sick to my stomach sometimes! #i've tried everything. blocking hundreds of ppl on main so i couldnt see their tags. asking ppl to not mention stuff around me. ignoring it #nothing has worked so far and i am not getting better #so i think i just need to be less involved #it's much easier to make my own posts bc i get to decide when i feel well enough to bring him up #and i get to talk about whatever i want! wanna mention some cool stream moments. skyblock stuff. random fun facts. etc #but then on my dash it's like. oh you were feeling bad? too bad there he is. another reminder 👍 #and i could blacklist stuff but then tumblr is like ''HEY THERE'S A POST HERE YOU CANT SEE AND HERE IS THE EXACT REASON WHY'' #like... that doesnt help. if i see ''blacklisted tags: technoblade. tw death'' then that. doesnt make me feel any better #chat #anyways i have doodles i wanna make that are very vaguely related ot mcu but mostly based on a fandom headcanon(?) #i think we need to go back to the wings. when ppl gave him wings. and i like when ppl made the cape/coat his wings #i have. More Ideas for that.

[omarfor-orchestra]

So now I need to figure out what caused this mess uh

#was it the pills #the pms #the fact that I haven't seen my therapist in almost a month and will have to wait another one #the fact that i haven't seen someone outside my family and therapist in something like 3 months #maybe more #the fact that when the only irl friend i thought i had (which I'm starting to dubt) told me after i stupid joke that i do have friends #i ghosted her bc otherwise i would have told her to fuck off bc if i had friends I wouldn't have had to be alone in my house when in #so much pain I couldn't move from the bad and she knew it she knew I couldn't walk and still said 'oh you can come to my house' how???????? #despite me asking her twice to come #and I'm 23 years old and I'm so alone it hurts and I can't go out even if i were invited and the only thing helping me right now #are literally drugs which let me tell yall is a low point even if they're medically prescripted #and I'm losing my mind because I'm 3 exams away from my graduation and everyday i feel like giving up #and I've started counting cals again because I'm scared I'm gonna gain too much weight #and I don't know how I'll handle the operation and the follow up and I'm fucking terrified #I'm so sorry if you all are reading this but I'm truly feeling hopeless and so so useless and alone and the self hating is getting stronger #I'm sorry if i bring negativity in your dash I won't blame you for unfollowing i can just try to promise it won't always be like this #i hope at least #god i don't even know what i wrote

[augustinewrites]

tsumiki asks the question on a rare, relaxed saturday afternoon. with both the kid’s baseball games canceled due to some heavy morning rain, the four of you were taking the time to do some much needed relaxation. 

“how did you guys end up together?” 

satoru lifts his head from your lap, where you’d been plucking his brows. “isn’t it obvious? it was due to my roguishly handsome good looks and sharp comedic wit.” 

megumi scoffs from his spot on the armchair. “i doubt that.”

you press your cheek against your boyfriend’s shoulder, laughing. “that’s cute, babe, but do you want to tell them how it really happened? or should i?”

“i’ll tell them,” he volunteers. “because i have been in love with you a lot longer than you might think.”

_____

satoru meets you when he’s seventeen years old. (it’s a stupid age. ‘cause when you’re seventeen, you’re all hormones and ego and think the world revolves around you.) 

so he doesn’t pay you much mind when yaga first introduces you to his little class, because honestly? he’d taken one look at you, fresh out of the countryside with your perfectly pressed uniform, not a hair out of place or a battle scar on your body and was extremely underwhelmed. so he’d brushed you off like lint on his sleeve, because he doubted you’d even survive the year. no point in getting to try and know you. 

that same afternoon, you’d unleashed hell on him with your shikigami and almost broken his nose. 

“i’m sorry,” you’d muttered when you’d forcibly accompanied him to the infirmary. 

“you don’t sound sorry,” he’d huffed. his nose (and his ego) were definitely bruised. 

you rolled your eyes and muttered something that was probably really mean under your breath. he’s about to tell you off when he feels blood start to drip again, cursing and pinching the bridge of his nose as he tilts his head back.

“you’re supposed to tilt your head forward,” you sigh, handing him another folded up piece of paper towel. 

he doesn’t take it, glaring down at you. “why would i do that?”

shoko and geto walk behind you both, highly amused by your bickering. “they’d be good together, don’t you think?”

“if they don’t kill each other first.” the latter chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets as he eyes you both. 

“if you tilt your head forward, then the blood drips out and not in–”

“why? that’s where the blood is supposed to be.”

“no, it’s not, and if you’d just let me finish what i was saying instead of interrupting me–”

it’s not the last time he interrupts you. it’s not the last time the two of you bicker or the last time he walks with you through the courtyard. days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months, and even though you’d almost broken his nose that first day, he quickly realizes that he couldn’t imagine you anywhere but with him. 

_____

it’s late when he sneaks out of your room, sunset streaming through the courtyard as he peeks around the corner, on the lookout for any faculty before he dashes back to the boy’s dorm…

…only to run into geto, who’s standing outside. he feels bad for a second, because they haven’t really talked since…well, everything.

but he just flicks his cigarette, grinning in that all too knowing way of his. “what were you doing in the girl’s wing, creeper?”

“nothing,” he lies, but his cheeks are warm, there are butterflies in his stomach, and he can’t seem to stop smiling.

his best friend looks at him. really looks at him. “oh, man. you’re so obvious.”

“i’m not obvious, you’re obvious,” he retorts.

geto takes another drag before holding it out to him. gojo shakes his head. “you’re one of the smartest, yet dumbest people i know. so i’m going to help you now, because i think without guidance, you are capable of making extremely rash romantic decisions.”

“that’s not true–”

“it’s very true. like that fact that you’re in love with…” geto nods his head towards the girl’s dorm, grinning. 

he tucks his chin under the collar of his jacket when he feels heat crawl up his neck, looking away. “that’s ridiculous. i’m not…it’s not like that. we’re just…hanging out.”

“really?” his friend checks. “because the way that you look at her, i mean…wow. we’ve all seen it. you look at her like you hear tiny forest animals singing whenever she walks into a room.” 

satoru bristles slightly, because he’s not entirely off the mark. 

(but seventeen is a stupid age, and at the time he knew he cared for you deeply, but he didn’t know he loved you yet.)

geto knows though, and just shrugs. “i know you’ll see it someday too.”

_____

“do these shoes go with my outfit?” you ask, looking over your shoulder.

gojo shrugs, hardly even glancing up from his phone. “sure.” 

“you didn’t even look!” 

he exhales a harsh breath, tossing his phone onto your bed as he looks up at you. “why are you trying so hard for some guy you don’t even like? i mean– have you even met him?”

“no,” you sigh, smoothing your hands over your dress. “but me meeting him is really important to my father.” 

he leans back against your headboard, folding his hands behind his head. “why?”

“because a proposal from the kamo clan is a really big deal.” you startle when he sits up so fast that his glasses fall from their perch atop his head. “oh my– what’s wrong?!”

“everything about that sentence. a proposal? as in to be wed?”

“yes, gojo,” you confirm, turning back to adjust your earrings in the mirror. “i was born outside of the zen’in clan, but i have their inherited technique. my dad…all these years he’s worked hard to keep me off their radar so i wouldn’t be stuck there. so i wouldn’t be unhappy like he was. if i accept this proposal and join the kamo clan…all his hard work wouldn’t be for nothing.” 

“the kamo clan,” he repeats, shaking his head. he’s not sure why he’s so annoyed. it’s hard to pinpoint the exact reason. “they’re based in kyoto. you’d– you’d have to leave.”

he doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but all the unsaid things that he’s been too scared to admit to himself (and especially to you) must be written all over his face, because you hesitate before you step out the door, looking back at him hopefully. 

“have fun,” is all he says instead, pretending not to notice when your expression falls. “i’ll probably be out when you get back, but just text so i know you’re alright and haven’t already been whisked off to kyoto.”

_____

“but you never joined the kamo clan,” tsumiki notes, sending you a questioning look. “why did your dad to change his mind?”

“i…actually still don’t know,” you admit, smiling softly. “he’s never told me.” 

“well, whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter now. ‘cause you’re right where you’re supposed to be,” satoru grins. he presses a soft kiss to your lips, but pulls back with a laugh when the kids groan loudly. “on that note, i’m going to start cleaning up.” 

megumi, who’d been silent the entire story, gets up to help, trailing after him into the kitchen.

“it was you,” he says once you and tsumiki are out of earshot.

satoru sets the stack of plates on the counter, glancing over his shoulder at him. “hm?”

“you made some kind of deal with her family, didn’t you? like you did for me.” 

he doesn’t answer right away, moving leftover vegetables into a container. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

besides, that was then and this was now. he’s older and wiser and he knows that he’s loved you since he was seventeen years old.

_____

your father seems taken aback, and not just because satoru gojo was standing in his study, but because of what he was proposing. “excuse me?”

blue eyes land on a photo of you on your father’s desk. you’re cherished here. loved. letting you go must be hard, even if it’s for your own good. “you want to keep her away from the zen’in’s right? if she joins the gojo clan, we’ll make the idea of even coming near her radioactive.” 

“but the only way to do that is–”

“marriage. to me, specifically,” he finishes with an easy shrug, as if he’s merely speaking about the weather. “quick, easy, simple. now you can reject the kamo clan’s proposal.”

your father is a smart man, that much is obvious. he’s kept you out of the zen’in’s grasp for years, even after news of your inherited technique had spread. there’s no way he’d turn down a deal as good as this.

“i have nothing to offer you,” he says now, expression pinched. “no dowry, or things of the like.”

“i don’t need your money,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand. “in fact, i only have three conditions.”

gojo’s three conditions

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #keeping up with the fushigojos

[exhaslo]

Day 19- Miguel x Reader (Sex Pollen)

       

*Requested by several readers ;) *

Another day, another mission. You had joined Miguel and Jessica on an anomaly hunt in a new dimension. All sounded simple at first, Jessica was in charge of finding the Spiderman or woman of that world and attempting to recruit them; you were going to hunt the anomaly; and Miguel was going to survey the new world. That was the original plan, but once the three of you actually arrived at said world, everything changed.

        Staring at the vast jungle before you, you rubbed your eyes to make sure it was true. There were no buildings in sight. They had already recruited some odd animal Spiders, was this going to be another one. Miguel was getting a diagnosis done by Lyla. In the meantime, you and Jessica observed your surroundings.

"Wow, I don't think I'll be able to leaf this alone for a while," You hummed, poking a large leaf.

"I'll pretend you didn't make such a horrible pun." Jessica crossed her arms as she looked up at the fifty foot trees, "Yeah, I'm calling this one off. Let me know how it goes," With a wave, Jessica returned to the Spider Society.

"Shocking," Miguel hissed, "Humanity went extinct in this world. So let's grab our anomaly before he messes with nature."

"Coolio. I'm sure the wildlife will think of us as giant Spiders." You chuckled.

        Miguel did not find it amusing as he led the way. You complained to him, wanting Miguel to cheer up. The man was the pinnacle of stressed out. You could feel his tension whenever you entered a room with him. Hell, his muscles showed it too. Speaking of muscles, you were staring at his for far too long now. Looking away, you huffed as you now stared at his ass. How was there a Spiderman this fucking fine? You couldn't help but want the man! 

"There," Miguel pointed towards the anomaly.

        You stood behind Miguel, staring at a very confused Shocker. Miguel was whispering a plan to you, but you were not focusing. His cologne smelled so nice. Flinching as Miguel dashed forward, you panicked and followed him. It wasn't your fault you were head over heels with him! 

"(Y/N)!"

"Oof!" You felt your spider senses tingle as you dodged an attack from Shocker, "Ah! The hell!?" You gasped as you fell into a cluster of veins.

"Ay dios mío. (Oh my god.)" Miguel spat as he went after Shocker. You hurried after the two,

"Sorry! I dozed off for the second!"

        Miguel ignored you as he easily caught the rouge Shocker. He tied Shocker up and threw him into the dimensional portal. You were about to join Miguel, but felt your spider senses warn you again. You webbed Miguel, bringing him towards you as a large bird attacked. The two of you fell towards the ground. For a brief second, Miguel wrapped his arms around you, protecting you from the fall. Luckily, you both landed on a large flower bud. Yellow pollen floating in the air.

        You sighed in relief and tried asking Miguel if he was okay, but felt him hold your head. His grip was tight as he kept your head pressed against his chest. It was almost hard to breathe.

"Miguel, I can't breathe." You muttered. Not that this was a bad thing.

"Fuck, just wait..." He groaned, "Something isn't....right."

        That was odd. Miguel sounded like he was in pain. You touched his chest to try and move but noticed him flinch. Suddenly, you felt something hard press against your stomach. Your eyes widen as your senses went off. Miguel was protecting you from this strange pollen. Trying to get his attention again, Miguel let out a low cry. This was defiantly bad! Forcing yourself away, you grabbed Miguel's face and pressed it against your chest while you held your breathe.

        The pollen was almost gone. You just had to hold on. You glanced down at Miguel and noticed that he removed his mask. Your fingers were now coiling with his soft hair. Miguel groaned again then moved his hands up your back. You shivered as his groans sent a vibration between your breasts.

"(Y/N), fuck...I need you," His tone was so needy.

"What?!" You gasped in shock.

        Your eyes widen as you inhaled some of the pollen. Suddenly, your body started to burn. You whimpered as you leaned back, rubbing your legs together as your pussy started to drip. Miguel hovered over you, his hands gently touching your sensitive bud. Your eyes widen as you let out a loud moan from just a simple touch. Miguel's suit disappeared and he used his talons to rip yours.

"M-Miguel, we...we shouldn't." You tried to tell him, but your body was burning up. Miguel kissed you feverishly,

"No, we shouldn't."

        His fingers started to pump inside your pussy as he kept kissing you. Your moans were being swallowed by him as you felt him satisfy the burning sensation. His fingers getting coated by a waterfall of your juices, desperate for more. Miguel broke the kiss, a small trail of saliva connecting the two of you. Unable to wait much longer, you reached for him, grinding yourself against his hand.

        Miguel hissed lowly and removed his fingers, needing his own burning pain to go away. He used your juices to stroke his dick as a lube. Without much warning, he easily slid his dick inside of you, thrusting away his lust. Your mind went hazy as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Miguel's dick pounding your every so hungry pussy. Whatever this pollen was made you both so horny that you weren't thinking straight. All you wanted was his dick.

        Miguel held your waist, slapping himself into you like a madman. The lewd sounds of your bodies hitting each other echoed throughout the forest. Your moans growing louder with each thrust. A mixture of his cum and your juices pooling onto the forest floor. Miguel didn't even realize he had cummed inside of you. The immense pleasure you both were feeling was overpowering your own orgasms. All the two of wanted was to keep feeling each other.

        You weren't sure how long the two of you were fucking each other dumb for. One moment you were on your back, the next you were riding him, and so on. Your body kept moving on its own as your pussy kept sucking Miguel's dick. Each thrust of his tip against your cervix sent shivers down your spine. Miguel had you back against your back, needing to go deeper. Needing to have you scream his name out.

"M-Mig-" Your words were caught off as you arched your back in pleasure.

"Fuck, look at you. Always wanted to taste this pussy," Miguel started to babble, watching his dick form a white ring from your juices, "Make you mine. What a good girl you are, taking my dick so well,"

"Ah~ M-Mig...hah...R-Right....t-there."

        Your eyes rolled back as the burning sensation started to fade away. Now you were starting to feel your orgasm. You felt your body grow weak as you cam once more. Your vision blurred slightly as you tried to call out to Miguel. His grip was on your waist was so tight. The daze you were in went away, but was now being washed over by his dick bullying your pussy. You felt so full. His dick was pushing all of his cum deeper inside you. You brain was starting to get cock drunk as you moved your hips again,

"M-Miggy~"

"That's right, say my name." Miguel panted lowly. He thumb trailing over your clit to steal another orgasm from you, "Dime que tu estrecho coño me pertenece. Que te voy a joder tonto. (Tell me that your tight pussy belongs to me. That I'm going to fuck you dumb.)" He groaned.

        Miguel started to come back to his senses as he filled you once more. He took a moment to catch his breathe, hovering over you. He slowly pulled out, watching a river of his cum spill out of your bullied cunt. Another groan escaped his lips as his suit reappeared. You were still a panting mess, trembling from the overstimulation. Miguel reached out to you, pulling you into his chest,

"Are you alright?" He asked softly. You buried your head into his shoulder,

"Fucked out." You barely whispered.

"Yeah," He agreed and looked at his watch, "¡¿Qué carajo, llevamos más de una hora follando?! (What the fuck, we've been fucking for over an hour?!)" He nearly yelled out. Your eyes widen,

"W-What?! I only came to my senses in those last few minutes!" You coughed. Miguel held your head, glancing at the nearby pollen,

"Let's get out of here."

--------------

        Miguel took you straight to his place afterwards. He gave you some water and helped give you a proper bath. The two of you were embarrassed to say the least. Once you were washed and rested, Miguel sat against the edge of his bed.

"Ahem," He cleared his throat, "I suppose it's too late to say that I have feelings for you." He muttered lowly. You chuckled, scooting closer to him,

"I don't think that sex pollen would have worked if you didn't," You teased him. Miguel flinched,

"Is that what you're calling it?"

"That what Lyla explained it as. Pollen that acts out of the desire to mate with one's chosen interest." You continued to tease Miguel. Miguel's ears turned red as he cussed quietly about his AI, "I like you too. Also, you owe me a new suit."

"Ya estoy trabajando en ello. Asegurándome de que desapareciera como el mío. (I'm already working on it. Making sure it came disappear like mine.)" He said, hiding his smirk.

        You grew flustered and quickly asked him about where your old suit was. Miguel brought it out, keeping it in a sealed bag. You huffed your cheeks out, telling him that it has been hours and should be fine. Opening the bag, you flatted your suit out to see the damage. As you did, yellow pollen came out of the suit, causing Miguel to give you a slight glare.

"I'm sorry!" You coughed, inhaling the pollen. Miguel threw your suit to the side, the pollen already affecting him,

"No puedo explicar lo tonto que te voy a follar ahora. Especialmente porque no recordaremos la primera puta hora. (Can't explain how much dumber I'm going to fuck you now. Especially since we won't remember the first fucking hour of it.)" He spat, his body shaking as his dick started to harden. You had your legs spread out already,

"I promise it won't happen again!"

You fucking liar

#kinktober #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel

[sunniskyies]

𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 || 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: - 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You, a child of Demeter, have powers that unfortunately go out of control whenever emotions are involved. And don’t think Percy doesn’t notice !! 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: book!Percy Jackson  x Demeter!fem!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Bad grammar today 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Fluff with a dash of fluff 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k 𝐀/𝐍: I’m back at it again !! This was supposed to be a blurb, but ofc I got carried away. Pffsh

You're sitting on the edge of the lake, your fingers aimlessly running through the water. The gentle breeze plays with your hair, sending strands dancing over your face.

Under the water, you're manipulating native algae to creep over the pebbles. As the child of Demeter -and a head councillor no less- it's your responsibility to keep the plants at camp in good health. And even though you're off-duty right now, you find yourself tending to them.

You almost don't notice when someone approaches you from behind.

"Hey there, Petals," a familiar voice says.

You whip around to see Percy's sun-kissed face grinning at you. Your heart flutters at the sight.

"Hey Perce," you try to say, but it comes out more like a squeak. This just makes Percy's smirk widen.

Gaze suddenly averted from yours, Percy's eyebrows raise in surprise. You turn back to the lake to see what he's looking at. Heat rushes to your cheeks when you realise that around your fingers, half a dozen water lily buds have sprouted in the water.

You quickly pull your hand out, hoping that Percy isn't thinking about what a loser you are. You're used to your powers manifesting unexpectedly, but gods it's embarrassing when it calls you out in front of people.

You can't bring yourself to look at him, eyes averted even when he sits down right next to you. You busy yourself by clearing the lilies, causing them to brown and wither beneath your touch.

"Stop that, they look lovely," Percy interjects, quickly snatching the last remaining bud from your murderous grasp. He holds it delicately, stripping the leaf from the long stem.

You're still avoiding him, face flushed pink. So Percy rests a fingertip beneath your chin and turns you himself. His hands are tough and calloused from years of sword fighting, but he feels warm and gentle when he touches you.

With a lopsided smile, he slips the bud behind your ear. His fingers brush your temple on the way, and to your absolute horror, the bud blooms into a full white lotus.

"Oh my gods," you groan, burying your red face in your arms. You hear Percy laugh, a gentle thing that sounds like a breath of wind.

You're pretty sure everybody at Camp knows you have a massive crush on the black-haired boy. Unfortunately for you, unlike other girls, you don't have the luxury of hiding your feelings. You have little to no grasp on what your magic chooses to do when exposed to your stupid feelings. Especially not when Percy Jackson is involved.

You must be the most pitiful camp councillor Camp Half-Blood has ever seen.

"Hey, don't be embarrassed," he murmurs, his voice now so, so close to your ear. "It's just a flower."

You peek up at him, hoping your pupils aren't too dilated. "Yeah, and magic that blossoms every time I do anything," you mumble. Percy gives you the sweetest, most understanding smile known to man. You can't believe he hasn't run away in repulsion yet.

"I think it's cute," he laughs affectionately.

Your mind flashes back to a few weeks ago. You and a large group of campers were sparring on the large grass field. When Percy stepped forward for his turn and you were met face-to-face, the shorn grass around your feet sprung up into long, grassy seed heads. The entire field had turned into a paddock in seconds, so tall it obscured your mortified expression. But while the rest of the campers were laughing mercilessly, Percy's intent gaze through the grass-heads was soft and considerate.

Your breath catches at the identical look in his eyes now, deep and green and all-encompassing. He drops it for a second, looking down to gently grasp one of your hands. He looks at it for a moment, soft curiosity etched on his face as he traces circles onto your palm and wrist.

In the wake of his finger's touch, blossom petals sprout up from your skin. He smiles at the reaction.

"It's true then?" He hums, syrupy eyes meeting yours as he presses a soft kiss to your knuckles. You know that vines have started growing throughout your hair, petals and leaves adorning your locks until your hair resembles that of a willow tree's canopy.

"Is it?" He murmurs when you fail to answer, spare hand reaching up to brush a curtain of willow leaves from your face. Hesitant doe eyes look back at him.

You still don't respond, words stuck like sap in your throat. Percy lets out another breathy laugh.

"You do know that you're not the only one with uncontrollable powers, right?" He grins. Then his hand is back on your face, this time cupping your cheek. He gently turns you head to stare out at the lake.

Where the water was calm and still minutes earlier, the lake's edge now laps eagerly at both of your feet. Above you, a storm has rolled in. Soft droplets have begun to speckle your skin, and you realise with caught breath that they feel like warm kisses.

You look back at him, his gaze having never left you. "Is this you?" You breathe.

Percy shrugs nonchalantly. "Yes and no. I can't really help it," he grins sheepishly. "Water tends to respond to me, whether I want it to or not."

You can't help but laugh, your worries and embarrassment melting. That sure sounds familiar.

The rain continues to fall, surrounding the two of you in a gentle mist before growing into a steady patter. The storm's growth is mimicked in his eyes, unidentifiable emotions swelling in the green depths.

Percy leans closer, his lips now just a breath away from yours. "You know," he says, his voice barely above a whisper, "I think our powers are trying to tell us something."

Your heart pounds in your chest as you meet his gaze. The vines in your hair grow longer, rooting you in place and winding tendrils around the places where Percy holds you. He doesn't pull away though, instead putting his other hand around your neck and letting the foliage tie you to him.

He doesn't look at this curse like others do, instead leaning into it with fascination. At this moment, you realise that maybe your powers aren't a curse after all. They're a part of who you are, just like the water that bends to Percy's touch.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you wonder if Percy can feel it through the vines that tether you together. You comforted by the knowledge that Percy’s heart must be doing the same thing anyway, as the lake is far from quiet now, the waves rolling in strong and fast. You’re both surrounded by the churning water, but you can't tear your eyes away from each other. You finally distinguish the emotion in his eyes, as you recognize the hunger in yourself as well.

Unable to wait any longer, Percy finally closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours gently but so eagerly. His thumb drowsily pulls at your lips, teasing your mouth open. You lean into his attention for once, hands curling around his dark hair.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he murmurs against you, barely pausing before kissing you again.

You remained locked in a tight embrace for only the Gods to see, your bodies drenched and overgrown. And around you in the passionate water, hundreds upon hundreds of water lilies have sprouted.

© sunniskyies 2024, do not repost or translate my work

#ph☆ebe's scribbles #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fic #one shot #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson #fanfic #fanfiction

[navybrat817]

Steve + 9. "Don't even think about getting out of the car."

Oh, Eva. 🫠

Direct Order

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Summary: Steve doesn't like that you ignored his direct order.

Word Count: Almost 900

Warnings: Arguing, slight angst, stubbornness, slight feels (it's me), Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Another overprotective prompt ficlet. Thanks, Eva! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The night air was cool and refreshing as you rolled the window down, but it went back up before you could appreciate the breeze against your skin. You shot Steve a glare who didn't acknowledge you as he drove. You didn't like uncomfortable silence, but you didn't attempt to fill the time with small talk. Not since he decided to rip you a new one in front of the team an hour ago.

You just wanted to go home.

“You have nothing to say?” Steve asked, his voice low. “Must be killing you to go this long without talking.”

You fought the urge to kick the dashboard since the car didn't do anything to you and smacking him could cause an accident. “And it must be killing you that I didn't fall in line today like a perfect little soldier,” you said with a sardonic smile. “Or would you prefer I act like a doll?”

“You ignored my direct order,” he growled as he gripped the steering wheel. For a moment you thought he’d bend or rip it away. “What the hell were you thinking?”

You sneered before facing forward. “Jesus Christ, give it a rest. You berated me enough on the quinjet and I don't need to hear it again.”

He took his eyes off the road long enough for you to see the anger brewing. “Damn right I berated you because you never listen to me.”

The tension thickened. You didn't typically argue with Steve. You went against him once and now he was saying you never listened to him? Where the hell did he get off?

“Don’t you dare lecture me about not listening to you when you’re the one who never listens to anyone,” you argued, feeling a hint of satisfaction when he clenched his jaw. “And I made the right call. I stand by that.”

The mission was a success because of your decision.

“You don't make the calls. That isn't your job,” he snapped, the tires squealing as he made a rough turn. “You could've been hurt or worse. Don't you get that?! You can be so stubborn sometimes.”

“But I wasn't hurt! And me being stubborn? Pot meet fucking kettle, Rogers!”

“Captain,” he said through his perfect teeth.

“Captain,” you scoffed, your blood boiling. “You are not my Captain right now. You're just some guy who wormed his way into driving me home after running his mouth.”

You shrieked when he slammed on the brakes, bracing yourself on the dash when he ran a hand through his blonde hair and bitterly chuckled. It was a foreign sound coming from him. One that made you shut your mouth. “Some guy? Now I’m just some guy?”

Concern flickered across your face. Yeah, you were mad, but you didn't have to push. “Steve. I mean, Captain, I-”

“I’m not just some guy and I’m not just your Captain,” he cut you off, stopping you when you reached for the door handle. “Don't even think about getting out of the car. We’re not done yet.”

“Why should I stay? So you can snap at me some more?” You mumbled. “Would you treat Bucky or Sam or anyone else like this?”

It wasn't fair to try and make him feel bad. He was your leader for a reason and he gave you an order. You didn't follow it. He had every right to be pissed off. By all means he had the right to bench you, too.

But why was he taking it personally?

All the anger fell from Steve’s face as he leaned across the seat more. “I’m sorry.”

Your gaze softened, too. “Why are you sorry?”

“For snapping the way I did,” he said with a shake of his head. “You just scared me today. I get scared every time you go into the field, but that was the first time you…”

“Didn’t listen,” you finished for him, your heart pounding when you realized just how close he was. If he leaned in any closer, his lips would be against yours.

“And you are right. I have a hard time listening to others myself,” he said, smiling when you snorted. “But I don't give you orders for you to act like a perfect soldier or doll. Just like I don't give Bucky or Sam or anyone else orders just to have things done my way. I do it to keep you as safe as possible. It would break my heart if something happened to you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes went wide. “Did you just call me ‘sweetheart’?” You asked, your stomach doing a funny flip.

He chuckled, the sound much warmer than before. “So, you do listen.”

“Most of the time,” you teased, staring into his eyes. You could see how much he cared. No wonder he took this mission to heart.

“Arguing aside, you did well,” he praised, which sent heat to your cheeks.

“Thank you, Captain. I’m sorry I scared you.”

“I’ll forgive you for ignoring my orders if you let me walk you to your door.”

“And I'll forgive you for snapping at me in front of the team if you come inside and have a drink,” you countered.

You didn't expect him to move his mouth to your ear. “I’ll only come inside if you say ‘please’,” he whispered, sending a shiver down your spine. “And that's a direct order.”

Yes, sir. ❤️‍🔥 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x female!reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fic #chris evans #chris evans x reader #nomad!steve rogers #captain america

[genshxn]

dan heng being bad at feelings, the sequel.

started writing this pre-1.3, so i am once again emphasizing that i am making shit up. (well, 1.3 dropped while still working on this and the TB mission was rather lacklustre, so i'm gonna half ignore it).

sorry for any typos/mistakes/whatever, most of this was written at dubious hours of the night.

contains. mild-moderate canon divergence, dubious jing yuan shenanigans, dh being somewhat down bad. i dropped a bit too much spice in, so it is no longer “mild”. take that as you will.

7.5K words. THIS IS SO FUCKING EMBARRASSING.

here's the first part in case you haven't read it. you're still not the trailblazer.

tags: @akhiran @cypunk-0 @fiona782 @seelelovesbronya @bleakqblake @xiaos-poems

this place is not a place of honour. no highly esteemed deed is commemorated here…nothing valued is here. Below 15, DNI. Go away.

the next day, you awoke to a feeling of emptiness at your side. any part of the bed that your limbs weren’t splayed upon was long cold with dan heng’s absence. you were alone, still left in the nest of sheets and pillows he arranged himself. it couldn’t have all been some kind of fever-dream, could it? 

no, any such possibility was dashed when you looked at the messages on your phone. one unread, left two hours ago. 

with the ellipsis and all. oh, the self-inflicted misery. (does he really consider every single person his enemy?) you sighed, swinging your feet off the side of the bed to get up. if you knew him well enough, then you already knew the next little while was going to be tricky, to say the least. it was obvious what his plan was from the beginning, with him abandoning your side at the sun’s first rays: avoidance. 

and avoid you, he did. in the denouement after phantylia’s attack, he still had to be around you, but the stiltedness he carried with him was palpable. he made a point to stand as socially acceptably far from you. it was almost like he was acting like a ghost solely to you. elusive, non-communicative, only seen out of the corner of your eye. perhaps leaving you with the lingering feeling of being watched, and ultimately gone before you could even call his name. in fact, he quite literally ghosted you. he wouldn’t even respond to your messages.

once the day after the final events rolled around, you thought that maybe he would have had enough time to finally be able to face you again, but no. apparently he elected to confine himself to the archives the moment he returned aboard the express. however, this didn’t deter you from going knocking on his door. 

"dan heng?" you tapped on the sealed door. your ear was right up against the frame, listening intently. 

whatever shuffling was coming from within fell still at your voice. 

"dan heng, i know you’re in there. i just heard you stop moving." 

there was more silence, then followed by a sigh. "did pom-pom not relay my one request?" 

"no, they did. told me that i’m not allowed near the archives."

"yet you’re still here…" his voice was strained, and distant from the door. he must have been sitting either at his desk or on his thin, messy futon. beyond that, it was hard to imagine what he was doing in there, or even what he looked like. it was surprising. you thought he struggled to control his form, but it seemed no problem when he wasn’t with you. so was he the regular old dan heng sitting in there? or the vidyadhara that laid next to you that night? 

"you really think i’m gonna listen? i never do." you squared yourself further towards the door. "now, c’mon. we’re already talking, so can’t you just—" 

"n-no, i can’t," he cut you off. "i… i’m sorry, but not here, and not like this." 

"can you at least tell me why you say you can’t be around m—?" almost as if on cue, in came an angry pom-pom inbound like a squishy freight train. 

"hey! what did pom-pom just say?!" they cried. "can’t you follow one simple rule for the time being?"

as pom-pom ushered you away from the archives with weak thumps to the back of your legs, you grunted to yourself. you were tempted to chuck them in the opposite direction, but alas, such a thing was not in the cards for you. after all, it would be wise to not tempt fate with the conductor. things seemed like they were going to be more difficult than you anticipated.

░░░░░░░

early the next morning, long before either march or stelle would rise, you shuffled your way into the parlor car in search of food. if it was going to be anything like yesterday, you were anticipating being the only one in the parlor car. however, to your surprise, there was another person present when you silently closed the door behind you—dan heng. he was in his regular appearance of shorter, fluffy hair and his regular attire. you sighed as quietly as you could, staring at the back of his head that leant on his wrist, propped up on the table. seeing him staring dejectedly at the food was a sorry sight.

the unspoken tradition you had with him was that when the whole express wasn’t eating together, it’d always be you two sharing your meals together. it began when you first joined the express—after dan heng himself, but before march. left adrift as a vagrant amidst the stars, you were all too familiar with the feeling of loneliness. it was always at its worst when you managed to gather together enough scraps to resemble the meals you used to eat in your old home. to you, when possible, meals were something that should be shared in the company of others. so when you first saw dan heng sat alone on your first proper morning aboard, you saw part of yourself in him. a part that you wanted gone, now that you had a new home. so you sat yourself down next to him, your own food in hand. you were met with some minor (albeit polite) resistance, but you being the stubborn ass you were, would not have it. you knew your persistence was risky, but it paid off. not long after that, he would wait until you were sitting with him. 

so to see that sight left you saddened, but also vehemently annoyed. normalcy was out the window thanks to this baffling, self-imposed restriction he had against you. as quietly as you could, you stalked up behind him. moving as lightly as possible felt like it was the only way possible to get closer to him. it wasn’t like he developed a sudden allergy to your presence or something, was it?

you were successful in thwarting his pre-occupied senses as you reached the velvet couch. but maybe you were too successful, because he almost leapt out of his skin when you planted yourself down next to him. you leaned against the table and spoke. "how about us talking if it’s over breakfast?"

he did manage to calm down, but not by a lot, and not enough to give you a reply. his expression was still frazzled as he struggled to keep himself in place. 

"can you please tell me if i’ve done something wrong? i don’t understand why we’re suddenly like strangers again," you said, reaching out to put your hand atop his one that was clenched at his side. but he snatched it away before you could feel the warmth of it.

"it’s my fault. you’ve done nothing," he said. "but please, i need some time before i can talk to you properly."

he turned to get up and leave, but you caught him by the sleeve. "w-wait, by why?" you trailed off, voiced far weaker than intended.

the look he gave you was weird. it was a jumble of confused emotions, but the most you could make out was nervousness. you had no idea what that light flush could have meant for you. his mouth parted to make some sort of reply, and you could have sworn you the glimpse of sharpened canines. "since when have you had fangs in this appearance?" you blurted out after doing a double take.

his eyes flared wide open and a hand flew over his mouth. "s-since never." with that, he slipped from your grasp. "please excuse me."

you watched incredulously as he walked out of the parlour car and back towards the archives as if he had wooden knees. you had no idea what just happened. rejection, you supposed. but considering how he was that night, it made no sense. nothing about this made any sense. 

whatever it was, it was slowly eroding your patience, leaving you biting the inside of your lips in irritation. it’s true you were doing some type of avoidance when his alternate form was finally revealed, but it was nothing of this calibre. it was almost impossible for it to be the case with dan heng, but if this really was some kind of petty revenge, he may as well have whipped out a steel chair after you knocked shoulders with him.

░░░░░░░

your shameful failure of an interaction left you in need of recuperation. you hadn’t felt that irked and downright baffled since one of herta’s curios fell on your head. so now, you were blathering a ranting tirade at stelle and march over some snacks, all in the parlour car. "i swear to whatever aeon’s listening, he’s turned emo or something." you folded your arms across your chest, sinking down in your plush chair. 

"like he wasn’t before?" stelle mumbled, not looking up from whatever gacha game she was playing on her phone. 

"eh, not really. he does have his moments, though." march shrugged, grabbing a single chip. "but yeah, i’ve never seen anything like this. it’s so weird, he almost never avoids you like this!"

"hence why i’m so confused."

"things seemed to get pretty tense between the two of you after he had his magical girl transformation," stelle added while shovelling a handful of chips into her mouth, still not looking up. "then maybe… the day after phantylia, he got even weirder."

"yeah, like, he won’t go near you for some reason, but he keeps staring at you so longingly and sighing like you’re the last cookie in the jar and he’s been told he can’t have any more!" march said with the melodramatic flourish of a swoon.

"that one sounds like it’s based on real experiences." stelle cast her a sideways glance, to which march let out a sniff and wiped away a dry tear.

"just how much has he been doing that?" you muttered, unable to comprehend. 

"a fair amount from what i’ve seen. he’s looked like a kicked puppy every single time," march said. "well, as much as dan heng can look like a kicked puppy." 

"not that he’s particularly talkative, but i’ve tried asking him about it. was only met with howling winds of jarilo-vi’s everwinter storm." stelle placed her phone down on the table and sat back with her arms crossed. "but now, he’s just being straight up weird. (y/n), what’d you do to him?"

"yeah, i mean, he won’t even eat in the mornings if you’re there!" march cried. 

your nails dug into your knees as you looked at your lap. you could feel a heat creeping onto your face as you recalled him so close to you. his words still rung in your head. if they were true, then what the fuck was he doing now? "i—i don’t really want to say, since it’s between him and i," you said. "but some pretty… significant things happened, i guess."

march suddenly drew in a comically loud gasp. "DID HE FINALLY CONFE—" she began, but you clapped your hand over her mouth before she could finish. 

"must’ve," stelle said, leaning forward with her hands on the table loosely clasped in front of her. 

"it wasn’t… exactly like that." your voice was low. your attempts to protect your dignity were feeble at best. it’s true, he never explicitly told you he has feelings for you in the classic format of ‘i like you’, but… who were kidding, it was a confession in all forms except literalness. you grabbed at your face, hiding the creeping heat behind your hands with a groan. 

"no, it was totally a love confession. he’s been head over heels for you for a while now! even when i first met you two, it was so obvious he had a big ol’ crush on you. how’d you not notice it?!" 

"cuz they’re denser than dan heng." stelle deadpanned, staring right at you.

"if you’re going to be making indirect insults about me, at least do it to my face," a familiar voice muttered from somewhere a distance behind you. in walked dan heng, eyes closed and pinching the bridge of his nose. he was once again in his normal appearance. stelle immediately squashed you down beneath the square table, leaving you only to look at everyone’s legs. 

"oh, so the elusive dan heng finally graces us with his presence, huh?" you couldn’t see march’s face, but you knew she was making a half-lidded, unimpressed frown at him—the certified march classic.

"i’ve had a lot of information to collate and put into the archives, so i’ve been busy—" his words stopped short. from around the bend of the chair’s edge, you could see him inch closer to the table. 

"been busy what? you just stopped talking." march sounded confused. 

"is that… (y/n)’s scent?" his tone was far sharper, but his wording sounded unsure. 

"are you calling them stinky? that’s kinda rude, isn’t it?" march frowned. 

"huh? no, of course not!" he sputtered. "it’s just v-vidyadhara senses. they’re quite acute." there was the shuffling of some fabric. he must have crossed his arms.

"well i say it’s cuz you’re going heehee-silly-delulu with your big fat crush on them." march chimed in. your eyes widened as you frowned. why were they both baiting the literal dragon?

the only sound that came out of dan heng was something like an indignant cry that was cut-off at its head. "i… i do not—"

"you don’t like them? alright, keep telling yourself that," stelle said. 

"…what hand does (y/n) have in this? they were just here, weren’t they?" he took a few steps towards the table. you imagined him with a strained look on his face, fighting to keep his composure like he yesterday. as he was stood right in front of you, you felt yourself shrinking back. it was maybe only seconds until ground zero—until everything hit the fan. "because that’s their scent nearby…" he changed his footing just a touch, and the second you saw the tips of his fluffy hair peak down past the table, you launched headlong into him. not by your own volition, but because a heeled boot slammed into your lower back, jetting you forward. your face collided with some part of his legs (of which was not very soft), sending you both in the same direction with simultaneous cries. there was a significant thud when dan heng hit the floor, and your head knocked into something bony.

your eyes cracked open, rubbing your forehead with a groan, but all sounds fell silent when you realized you were hovering between his knees. you stared up at him with wide eyes and a stifled breath, where he met your owlish gaze with his own. in other words, you were almost right between his legs. both of your faces lit like infernos, but neither of you moved. a grand total of two seconds passed before the vidyadhara features came out. it was quick—his horns rose from his head, and his hair spilt over his shoulders. his tail appeared behind him, laying still. even his clothes suddenly swapped out on him. his chest rose and fell as his breath seemed to quicken. 

"s-sorry," you swallowed thickly. in almost an instant, he dug one of his clawed hands into his arm. he clambered to his feet, unable to look you in the eye.

"wh-what the hell was that?" his voice cracked.

"fuck, that was my bad." stelle said from behind you. 

"ngh, you… please excuse me," he quickly turned and strode back towards the archives, still holding onto his arm. you hadn’t moved from the floor when you watched the passenger cabin’s door close behind him. 

"what the heck, stelle?!" march cried, startling you.

"holy fuck, i’m so sorry. i did not think it’d go like that," stelle said. when you looked back over, she was leaning back and had raked her bangs back, hand still on her forehead.

"how did you think it’d go?" you groaned, unsteadily raising to your feet once again.

"i dunno, but not like that."

"why’d he suddenly change like that, i wonder?" march tapped her finger to her chin, looking off to the side. 

"cuz he’s down bad." stelle looked very confident in her answer. 

you almost choked on your spit.

"he’s down bad, but then he keeps running off 'cuz refuses to let himself be so."

"what kind of a theory is that?!" march huffed.

"a simple observation. mr. yang says i’m perceptive, so i have final authority on all judgements ever made." stelle crossed her arms over her chest, face seldom making any expressions. "and i say exactly what i said."

you stood with your head hanging in your hands, burning with embarrassment. things couldn’t keep going on like this. if this was the new dynamic, then how were any of you supposed to function while you’re out trailblazing? how were any of you supposed to function even just normally? that was it. you raised your head until your eyes lifted from behind your hands, a new resolve filling your blood. maybe jing yuan might know something. 

░░░░░░░

managing to secure a time to speak to jing yuan was unbelievably easy. then again, you should gave guessed it’d be. over messages, he told you that since he’s been doing nothing but resting, he’s incredibly bored—someone to see or speak to is more than welcome. and so, it quickly was organized that you could stop by a planned location in aurum alley to see him.

the time soon rolled around, as long as it took. during the day, as expected, there was no sign of dan heng having any interest in interacting with you normally, much to your growing irritation and mild chagrin. even march and stelle were shaking their heads and clicking their tongues in disapproval. 

it didn’t take long for you to get there. you agreed to meet him in a small, secluded area, just out of the way of eyes that might seek to pry into the general’s private business. it was a bit into the early evening. it wasn’t too hard to find him sitting at his table since he wasn't exactly the most conspicuous person out there. the golden artificial sunlight poured in from an oblique angle overhead, coating the tucked-away courtyard in a honeyed light. once he saw you approaching, jing yuan cast you one of his usual sleepy, cattish smiles. 

"um, hello," you spoke, pulling out a seat next to him. 

"and to what do i owe the pleasure?" there was almost a purr in his voice. "tell me, what is it you wished to speak about?" he leaned forward, resting his head on his wrist propped up on the table. "or did you simply come here to chat with me because you felt like it?" he made a closed-eyed smile laced with mischief. 

"ah, i’m sorry to disappoint, but it’s because i’m having a bit of a dilemma." you scratched the back of your head with an awkward laugh. "please hear me out on this one, but it’s about dan heng." 

"oh, dan heng? what about him?" jing yuan tilted his head. "as it stands, i’m afraid you might know him better than i do, unfortunately. so i don’t know if i would be able to provide the best of help for you." there was a faint, bittersweet smile on his lips, making you bite your own. 

"it’s, ah, a little more about him as a vidyadhara, i suppose. i’m not sure if he has anything in common with his previous incarnation, but i thought there must be something there." 

"well, i can say his obstinance seems to have certainly survived reincarnation."

"it’s thriving," you huffed, at which jing yuan lightly laughed. 

"so is that the root of your problem? him being too stubborn on something?" 

"that’s about it, yeah." you pressed your lips into a line. "he’s been avoiding me for… reasons i won’t divulge… and i don’t what i can do to get him to talk to me again." 

"you don’t need to put it like that. i can tell he really likes you," he said, the trace of a smug grin on his face. after you coughed loudly, he continued. "he’s rather obvious if you know what you’re looking for. but anyway, what happened between you two? if i’m allowed to know, that is." 

you swallowed nervously. should you really be revealing everything like this? you did it anyway. "one night, we said a few things of… i guess questionably romantic nature to each other, and he reacted in a way that i think was influenced by some sort of… vidyadhara shenanigans."

jing yuan looked at you with raised eyebrows and wide eyes. "go on." 

"he hauled me off to his bed and then got uncharacteristically affectionate. he had a back-and-forth with self-doubt once he realized i was really confused by it all, but i told him it’s fine. i mean, i even pet his horns out of my own volition and stuff." it was all coming out at this point. "then he eventually drifted off and then pretty much declared his feelings in his half-sleep. but even though i told him i’m fine with him doing whatever he was doing, he still decided to run off the next morning. i’ve tried to talk to him repeatedly, but he won’t reply to my messages and he almost freaks out every time i’m in his vicinity. i don’t get it!" 

"mm, that’s quite the situation on your hands there," jing yuan hummed. there was a mischievous spark in his eye, and you weren’t sure if you liked the look of it. "now, i couldn’t tell you the specifics, but if you say he got ’uncharacteristically affectionate’, then that’s definitely some old vidyadhara response. they can get very protective over the things they love." 

your gaze dropped somewhere in front of your as your face prickled with heat at his words. 

"but now, i’d wager he’s stuck in some sort of self-imposed battle of will against himself."

"and how would you suggest i get him out of it?" 

"i suppose there is technically the option of waiting this out," he glanced at your face. you looked embittered at such an inane suggestion, making him laugh. "or you could simply make him lose the battle, since it sounds like he’s set on taking it ad infinitum, if needed." 

"small issue… i’m now allowed near the archives," you sighed, leaning yourself back. "it’s hard to simply go there with both the conductor banning me as well as dan heng refusing to open his door." 

"hmm…" jing yuan shifted his hand beneath his chin. "might i do something a bit uncouth?" 

"uhh, okay." 

"come here for a moment." he slid himself next to you, turning to face you a little more. with a slight frown, you turned towards him as well. "now, i can’t guarantee his reaction to this, but—" he suddenly pulled you closer toward him and placed his head in the crook of your neck—the same side dan heng had his. one hand snuck its way around your neck and held the base of your neck ever so gently, while the other looped around your back. you had to fight a shudder when you could feel jing yuan’s lips ghost over your neck and shoulder. "if i do this, it may be enough to knock him from this cycle of his." 

"wh-what?" you strained out. 

"he’ll be able to tell i’ve been with you. and by the places i’ve been in contact with you…" he said, voice low. his faint breaths were cool on your shoulder. you couldn’t suppress a slight shiver. "…it should be enough to grant you access to… the archives, was it?" 

"y-yeah." you blinked a few times. your brain had been reduced to a single cell bouncing around inside your brain like a shitty maraca. 

jing yuan finally pulled back, assuming his original pose. "please forgive me for that… but you’ll likely see why i did it." he still couldn’t help but wear his usual small grin for the second part. "i’d now recommend that you find him again, and try to keep his attention long enough for him to notice you were with me. vidyadhara’s senses of smell are perceptive, so it shouldn’t be long. well now, you’d best get back then." his stupid grin was even wider and even smugger. his gaze wasn’t condescending, but read more as if he were thinking just wait and see.

"i… guess i’ll be going then. th-thank you, general." you made an awkward bow as you hustled back the way you came, hyperaware of the air brushing against your shoulder. it all felt incredibly foreboding… but that was to be expected when you were about to enter the dragon’s den. 

░░░░░░░

your plan was flawless:

1. jing yuan does his shit

2. go back to the express. 

3. bait with bubble tea to get the door open. 

4. "talk" to dan heng long enough until he notices jing yuan was up to something

5. ???

6. profit. 

just as detailed, to further your chances of getting that door cracked open, you decided to buy a bubble tea. a classic milk should have sufficed, since he tended to favour the more simple things. the chances of him actually opening the door to take it were already slim, but desperate times called for desperate measures. knowing him, he’d simply make you leave it at the door, which was a problem. so there you were, stuck on an express couch, plotting. (or, perhaps more aptly, chewing your nails in nerves). as you sat there, in waddled pom-pom, looking mighty chuffed for some unknown reason.

"hm-hm-hm! dinner of pom-pom’s own creation will be ready in just over 20 minutes!" they declared, puffing their stuffed chest. they waited for any reaction, but no one looked up at them, making them deflate with a scowl. "stelle, (y/n) you go tell everyone," they grumbled, shuffling back into the passenger cart and beyond. 

"wait, what?" you looked up—you hadn’t even noticed them. 

"we’re on messenger duty," stelle said from her seat. she was placed upside down on the couch, hair grazing the ground while she played her usual gacha games. 

"can i try and deal with dan heng?"

"i mean, sure." she looked over at you. "but what’re you plotting?"

"my entry into the archives. i come baring gifts." you motioned towards the untouched bubble tea sitting in front of you. 

"i’ll leave you to it. i’ll go tell march and the others then." she chucked her phone elsewhere on the couch and got up, wandering towards the passenger car. you followed shortly behind, offering in hand. 

it was a short walk. you knew you were being dramatic, but you couldn’t help but grow more and more nervous the closer you drew to the archives. you had already weathered so many rejections, so it’s not like this was going to somehow have a worse result. perhaps it was because you put too much on this. you’ve gone to a rather large effort just to have a slim chance of getting him to open the door—speaking of, you were already there. 

you raised your hand to knock on it, but before you could even lay your hand on it, dan heng spoke from inside. "what is it, (y/n)?" he was once again somewhere further off in the room, speaking with undecipherable emotions. 

"um." your voice cracked, making you cringe. "pom-pom said dinner’s ready in 20." 

"ah. thank you," he said plainly. it still kinda stung, being back at what felt like the stage where you were only acquaintances. 

"i also got you something." you tried to cast another line. 

"you can leave it at the door." 

you flopped your head against the door. of course he said it. "i’d rather give it to you now. it’s some bubble tea. the ice is melting." there was no response. you couldn’t tell what he was doing. "c’mon, it’s not like you’re sick or something." 

"hah, more like lovesick," stelle called as she walked past behind you. 

"stelle!" dan heng cried indignantly. he sounded closer to the door. "i am not—"

"if you’re not, then open the door." she simply kept walking. 

you were stood with wide, unblinking eyes and an open mouth, watching her jacket pass through the cabin door until you were left alone in the hall. the door suddenly slid open a little. you jumped, turning to stare up at him. as usual, there was a strained look on his face that he was trying to suppress. "see, i’m not—" he looked out and around for stelle, but she was nowhere to be seen. instead, he simply sighed. 

you tried to swallow your heart beating in your throat, but it still hammered away. "hi." 

he closed his eyes, leaning his head on the inner door frame. "hello," his voice sounded tired. tired with himself. "please forgive me for how i’ve been acting. i know it’s not fair to you. it’s just…" 

"i know, you need more time. you like to say it," you muttered with a slight, strained grin. "by the way, here’s your tea. it’s just your usual order." you held it out it to him, and he looked down at it with softened eyes. as he went to grab it, his fingertips brushed over yours. he seemed more startled than you, but after a moment’s hesitation, he placed his hand back over top of yours.

"i haven’t been completely honest with you," he said. (that was certainly one way of putting it).

you held your breath, as if making a single noise could suddenly startle him back into the archives. 

"i… since that night, i haven’t known what to do with mysel—" he suddenly paused, frowning the tiniest bit. he leaned forward, seeming to concentrate on something with closed eyes. once they opened again, his pupils had constricted into slits, and he was staring intently at you. uh oh. 

"wh-what is it?" 

"where were you before this?" he took the tea from you and placed it somewhere next to the door frame inside the archives. 

your stomach flipped. was this really going where you thought it was? "um. i was wandering around aurum alley." it wasn't a lie. "why?" 

"that’s not all. what else?" he took you by the arm and drew you into the archives. it was an uncharacteristic mess in there. low-lit, and with clothes, books and items were strewn all over the place, perhaps as a reflection of his state. you watched the door close behind you, and when you looked back, there stood dan heng with his full vidyadhara look on display, right in front of you. uh oh. 

he stepped closer to you until you could feel the warmth of his body radiating off of him, then grabbing hold of your shoulders. it was a tight grip, but not enough to hurt yet. he dipped his head into the crook of your neck and drew in a long but quiet inhale. "what were you doing with jing yuan?" his voice was low, almost with a slight growl. as he spoke, his arms had wound around shoulders, so he was holding the back of your head, just like jing yuan was. only far harsher than the other’s ghost-like touch. 

yes, this was going the direction you thought it was. "we—we only met to talk about something," you sputtered out, your heart in your throat again.

"then why do i smell him on you, as if you were doing something more than just talking?" with a free hand, he took your jaw and turned your face towards him. he was only inches away from you, gazing at you with narrowed, dimly-glowing eyes. "why go to him when you have me?" 

you frowned, eyes wide. "huh? what do you mean i have you? you’ve refused to speak to me normally ever since the morning after you hauled me to your bed. besides, i-it’s not what you think." 

but your words were lost on him. "no, this won’t do." his voice was barely a murmur. he seemed to be living in his own version of the world. dragon-brain was back, evidently a fuller force than ever. you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t him drawing you even closer, placing his head in the crook of your neck and nuzzling. your face lit like an inferno as some kind of noise escaped your lips. it was really back to the nuzzling. only with surprising fervour, this time. he nestled his face into your neck, exhaling small sighs against you. his nose and lips brushing against your skin was almost ticklish, but you weren’t laughing when his tail snaked itself around your hips, twining itself down one of your legs. 

"d-dan heng?!" you cried when he suddenly lifted you with his hands clasped beneath the backs of your thighs, assisted by the tail. he had his mouth placed right over top of your collar bone, watching where he was going from over your shoulder. "dan heng, put me down!" you had to hold onto his back and shoulders for stability. 

he gave you no reply, only taking you back to his mussed futon. similar to his bed at the inn, the blanket was strewn in a way akin to the base of a nest. stray pieces of clothing made up the rest of lack-lustre structure—you could have sworn one of your own old shirts you’d forgotten somewhere was poking out from beneath a different article. dan heng sat himself down in the centre of the futon and brought you into lap. your position was a bit awkward as you sat perpendicular across from him. both your legs went one direction while your torso was turned to face him. he sunk his head into the crook of your neck again, drawing in more, shorter inhales. 

"seriously, wh—what are you doing?" 

"he’s still on you." he said against your shoulder, warmth breath making you shiver. there was a slight growl in his throat again. 

"even after that?" as you spoke, he tilted your head away, exposing more of your neck. "hey, w-wai—ah!" you made a cry of pain when a pair of fangs suddenly bit down into your shoulder. it wasn’t hard enough to draw much blood, but more than enough to hurt. you shuddered with some ungodly, almost harrowed noise when his tongue glided over what would blossom into a bruise. his arms and tail wound tighter around you, as if you might slip away at any second. he moved on, this time toward your jaw, peppering it with desperate kisses. you tried to say his name as he trailed down in between his own rapid-growing breaths. he was panting once he reached your shoulder, his kisses sloppy. in some work of miraculous dexterity, he had readjusted your seat on him until his waist was slotted between your legs. all the while, one hand was in your hair angling your head for his best reach, the other around your back. you had to hide your face in his hair when he had began making small vocalizations, something like tiny whines. 

you said his name again, this time louder when he trailed his fangs back up your shoulder. right after he left a hot kiss on your shoulder, he bit down again. you seethed in pain, trying to push his head off, but you were only met with purrs. even though he didn’t seem fully aware of what was going on, those purrs had to be weaponized against you. he shifted to another part of your shoulder, mouthing another kiss on it, but before he could bite, you grabbed his horn.

"dan heng!" you yanked his head back, surprising him. but instead of some sort of pained cry, he let out a heady moan. to your surprise, that noise slipping from his mouth seemed to restore his lucidity in an instant. his dilated eyes shot wide open and his hands flew to cover his mouth, almost sending himself backwards in the process. his face burned with embarrassment, colouring his cheeks and pointed ears in a bright crimson. you huffed, but didn’t remove yourself from your position. in fact, you anchored yourself down by locking your ankles behind his back if he were to try and push you off.

"(y/n) to dan heng, can you hear me?" you said, almost tempted to knock on his forehead. 

"i-it happened again," his voice was quiet in horror. 

"hey, i need you to listen to me before you clam up on me again." you brought one hand to the side of his face, gently making him look up at you. he jumped at the contact, sending his hands further up his face until they were covering his eyes. 

"please forgive me," he rushed out.

"look at me," you said softly, placing one hand on top of his to move it to the side—one of his faintly glowing eyes glanced at you. "i’m more happy to make out with you, but we need to talk first."

he made a strangled groan of embarrassment in answer, moving his hand back in place again. 

"are you listening?" 

he nodded.

"alright, the whole thing with jing yuan was me asking about you," you said. "i thought he might know a bit about you as a vidyadhara and your behaviour, so i went to ask what i could do to get you to let me into the archives. his idea was a less than tactful, but i guess it worked. that’s why ‘his scent was on me’, as you say. he only stuck his head on my shoulder for a bit because you’d be able to tell and then demand an explanation or something." 

his fingers had parted to show his eyes again, and they were staring in bewilderment. 

"so, i’m sorry for doing all that to you." your voice was soft. "i just wanted to see you."

"no, i should be apologizing. i have no control of myself and i haven’t been fair to you." he lowered his hands to hovering somewhere over his chest. "i was saying before… since that night, i have been an embarrassment. all i’ve wanted to do is steal you away and… smother you in affection until you returned it. the feeling was so intense that i didn’t trust myself around you, so i hid. i thought if i waited, it’d calm down, but it really only made it worse."

your heart swooned then and there, lighting a fire in your cheeks. "o-oh… so if i did return it, then you wouldn’t act like a lovesick ghost anymore?" 

"hey." he frowned, but his face soon fell back into the same flustered expression from before. "but to answer you, maybe after a while. i could also just get worse… but i really don’t want to subject you anything you don’t want." while he couldn’t meet your gaze, he still leaned his head into the palm of your hand. with a sigh, you held his jaw and angled his face to look at you again. 

"how many times do i have to say i don’t mind? you can’t seem to fit that one through that thick vidyadhara skull of yours." you did actually knock on his head this time, making him wince.

"i—i don’t know, i just get embarrassed." he hid face his face against your chest, face a shade redder and his ears drooping. "you also always look so shocked. i don’t want to do that to you." 

"that’s only because you tend to forget any kind of warning," you said with a light laugh. "truly, i like it—when you give me warning, that is—because i really like you too, stupid." 

his breath audibly hitched, and he raised his head back up. "t-too? but i’ve never said—" 

"are you kidding? you don’t need to say it when the aeons and their grandmas know. even march says it’s obvious. you’re seriously worried about that after you’ve made out with my shoulder sloppy style? by the way, what was with the bites?"

"ngh, don’t word it like that." his tail that was still tangled around you thumped against your back indignantly. "…and the bites are a weird territorial thing. i’m sorry if they hurt." he leaned his head against you, running his thumb over one of the marks.

"dragons…" you sighed with a smile. "you’re lucky you’re so cute." you pet his hair, and he leaned into your touch.

he moved his chin so it was on your collarbone, looking up at you with softened eyes. there were almost stars of reverence in them when he gazed at you. "i love you."

"wait, wha—" you began, but he swallowed the rest of your words when his lips were upon yours. he pressed himself up against you, his hands gently holding the sides of your face. as he kissed you, there was a faint rumbling and vibration coming from his chest—he was purring.  

he pulled back again, leaving you a little short of breath and a lot dazed. you’d always thought it’d be you that had to kiss him first, not the other way around. he began to leave another trail of kisses starting from your lips to your jaw, this time leading toward the other side he had already been. your hands fell from their place on him and inched onto his back while his lips were on your neck. one hand slipped into his back window, and he suddenly gasped. his back arched into you, almost knocking you over. he panicked, and his tail constricted behind you like another set of arms to catch you. 

"what was that?" you laughed, trying to re-steady yourself. 

"your hand was cold. i don’t know, i guess i have a sensitive back," he huffed. his ears were angled down and a flush was heavy on his face. you couldn’t really articulate what it was about him, but you were suddenly overcome with cuteness aggression. you leaned your weight onto him, sending him backwards onto the futon and—perhaps somewhat out of revenge—hovered yourself over top of his hips. he stared up at you with widened eyes and a held breath, frozen and waiting for your next move. 

"you said i need to return your affection, didn’t you?" 

he swallowed and nodded the tiniest bit. 

"so let me have some fun too, my beloved." you placed a hand on his cheek.

"wait, you heard—i actually said that?" it almost looked like steam would start rising from the top of his head at any point. 

"heard it loud and clear." you smiled to yourself, leaning down and managing to get your fingertips into his chest window—only for the door to slam wide open. 

"hey, it’s dinner! what’re you two even doi—!" march called, leaning her hand on the doorway. you and dan heng leapt off each other, landing on the opposite sides of his futon. march stared in silence for a long while before lolling her head back. "jeez, finally! anyway, can you two wait until after dinner? pom-pom’s ‘bouta blow a gasket waiting for you two."

"w-we’ll be there in a minute," you said, trying to readjust your collar to try and hide dan heng’s bite marks. 

"don’t be long!" march said as she strode back off down the hallway. a couple beats passed and you looked over at dan heng. by some miracle, he’d managed to swap himself back to his human look, but he still looked disheveled as he went to stand back up. 

he held a hand out to you and pulled you up, pausing for a moment. he glanced at the bite marks on your shoulder that still peaked out, made some sort of strained sound and then removed his coat. "they don’t need to see that," he said as he strung it around your shoulders, fixing the collar so it hid the marks from sight.

"i’m wearing your coat. march saw us before. if she learns something, it’s guaranteed to be said," you deadpanned. "they’ll know."

instead of giving you a direct response, he took your hand in his and lead you out of the archives, looking at you with what was probably meant to be a neutral expression. his light flush and knitted eyebrows betrayed him though. "can we at least pretend we have dignity?"

"i mean, sure, but it’s not gonna do anything, looking the way we do. now c’mon, don’t wanna keep the conductor waiting." you walked off with him in tow. 

he only made a small groan in response again. 

#sorry for the random jerma joke at the beginning #it's a moral obligation for me #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng #dan heng x reader #imbibitor lunae #imbibitor lunae x reader

[wintersera]

forever mine || alpha!karina x omega!reader

notes: AGAIN sorry for the delay anon but here’s the request!! fun fact i wrote this while listening to the super mario galaxy ost 😭

cw: OMEGAVERSE, alpha karina, omega reader (obvs), maybe rina is a little possessive, use of toys, biting, scratching, g!p rina, creampie, breeding kink

wc 2.2k

your alpha girlfriend was so sweet and caring, the best alpha you could ever wish for. unlike other alphas, she was never too aggressive with you, rather, she was too careful with you- biologically she should’ve been treating you like you were her toy for breeding, but i guess not. nonetheless she was still a great alpha girlfriend.

—

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK

first of september- the first ever day since you’ve forgotten to buy your heat suppressants since you started dating jimin. your stomach drops as your pheromones begin to waft around your workplace filled with pure blooded alphas.

shit shit shit i’m dead, oh i’m screwed what do i do? ohhh god what do i do?

it was sorta stupid. yeah- an undercover omega in a job filled to the brim with hardworking alphas. you were doing a great job of convincing everyone that you were just a simple beta. that’s how you landed your job in the first place, but now because of this one stupid mistake, you were bound to lose your job.

“guys…” head manager, a very big alpha man in your words, spoke up. his head tilting and nostrils flaring as he’s looking around the office, confusion on his sharp features “…are you smelling that?” with the attention drawn on your floral scent, you begin to panic as the other alphas begin sniffing around too.

ough,, how do you get outta this situation fast “i think i’ll head out early guys. whoever has their heat is driving me insane it might trigger my rut” how bad of a lie was that. it didn’t matter anyways, dashing out the room with your blazer and bag in, hand rummaging around your trouser pockets as soon as you make it out of the building.

“jesus christ jimin pick up please, please” walking, no- sprinting to the direction of your apartment. you knew your heat was gonna hit you badly. you’ve been taking suppressants for years so having a full blown pheromone disaster for the first time in years was going to be crazy. people were looking at you like you were crazy, but you’d rather have many people look at you weird than have your scent imprinted on the damn streets.

“what’s up?” thank the lord, she answered her phone just in time.

fumbling for your keys trying to shove it into the door lock, you sigh with a heavy breath “uh,, um jimin i’m going into heat- i already feel funny” unlocking the door, you fling yourself into the apartment, slamming the door shut with a loud bang.

“what do you mean going into heat? did you not,,, oh well shit okay give me a few minutes” hanging up the call.

not so much to your surprise, slick was coating your cunt like crazy. to the point where it started to go through your trousers and down your legs. the need you had for your girlfriend was so unbearable.

in a haze, you wobbled to your shared bedroom and grabbed one of her used shirts. her clothes smelt so good, the lingering scent dripping from her clothes was enough to make you keel over and plop onto the bed. you felt yourself getting slicker, your needy cunt needing your alpha to come over and fuck you silly was growing stronger each second she wasn’t in the room with you.

taking matters into your own hands because you couldn’t wait any longer, the feeling of your heat coiling in your stomach was too much. your brain was giving into your biological urges and you needed to get off now or you’d suffer. grabbing a pile of jimin's clothes and making somewhat of a nest on the bed, you surround yourself with the scent of freshly ground coffee. quickly taking off every single piece of clothing, getting right back up to open the box of toys you kept just in case a moment like this ever happened- searching for anything, any toy, that could satisfy you while you wait for your alpha.

whereas jimin on the other hand was worried sick. throughout your two year relationship with her she’d never seen you in a proper heat. like yeah, the heat suppressants and scent blockers helped quite a lot so you were never heavily affected by the symptoms. of course omegas would usually never get this horrible desire to mate this early into their heat, but unfortunately for you, you did have this raging urge to mate so early.

you weren’t so very conscious, you were starting to feel groggy, a feverish high temperature when you touch your head began to appear. this heat was kicking you in the ass and you couldn’t take it anymore- taking the vibrator in your hands and placing it on the highest setting, your hands make there way all the way down to your throbbing clit “a-ah, hnnng jimin come quick…”

so so desperate for her, you pick up your phone hoping that she would answer your calls “please- please pick up jimin”

“i’m almost home baby, do you need something or…”

“just hurry up i’m begging you to come home pleaseee” and who was she to deny your request. stepping on the gas faster knowing that her precious little omega was in need of her alphas presence. she could here your desperation deep within your voice.

“don’t worry i’m about to park soon, just wait for me okay” jimin, knowing how she acted during your very suppressed heats, believed that she could never submit to her instincts since she has never done so when it came to you. that quickly changed as she opened the door, the scent of roses attacking her as she stepped inside. it was a thick scent, it stuck to everywhere and it didn't help that you couldn’t open the windows in time, now your walls were coated in this thick floral scent.

it took jimin a lot of willpower not to give into her urges right there. she felt her rut kicking in and it made her growl in discomfort. never feeling this way in a while, because she took rut suppressants since the two of you started dating, she started growing hazy much like you did. she was a pure blooded alpha which didn’t help either, the intensity of your heat did rounds on her and she had strongest urge to mark you up.

you could hear her footsteps grow louder and louder, her low growls could be heard with the door still shut. quite impressive. she didn’t even say anything when entering, taking off her work clothes only leaving just her boxers on, the line of her hard cock showing through made you whimper out loud. your slick was practically drooling out from your pussy.

in her eyes you were nothing more than a snack to be devoured. her red eyes peered down at you like you were some sort of prey, and you must admit that pure blooded alpha jimin was really arousing to watch. pheromones in the room were strong as hell, your thick sweet floral scent mixing with jimin’s freshly scented coffee smell made a delicious combination. the scent alone driving you two mad.

she went to sit on the bed, still peering at you meek little body. with hunter like eyes she stared you down and licked her lips, “sit up omega” obeying your alpha like the good little omega you are, you sit up from the nest of clothes.

she could hear little puffs of air pour out of your lips, stifling a chuckle as she watches you struggle to sit up straight and look at her straight in the eye. hooking you up with ease, jimin had your body pressed up against hers, sliding one of her hands in between your thighs opening them up with a strong grip “you look so needy for me” a second goes by and she’s shoving you back into the pillow.

“fuck” jimin whispered “how do you smell so good” nuzzling into the crook of your neck, “you smell so tempting, fuck, i can’t-“ she gave your thighs a firm squeeze, exhaling shakily “you need to take me right now, i can’t take it anymore. i need to feel your tight cunt around my cock” her voice low and coarse. in a flash she slipped her cock into your dripping heat, mewls threatening to escape your mouth.

if you weren’t too dazed and horny you would’ve been saying how you’ve waited for this exact moment. jimin didn’t spend anytime fucking around with foreplay, she went straight into pounding your slicked up hole with no mercy. everything she did set your body ablaze, her hands were touching every single inch on your body and it felt so fucking good.

like a ravenous animal she attacked your neck, licking, marking, biting your throat all whilst groaning. her animalistic mind wanting to show that you’re her omega and nobody else’s and by that she had to litter you with marks of any kind, purposely rubbing her scent to mark you as her omega.

every thrust made your back arch slightly off the bed, hitting all the spots you never knew could feel good because of how nice she usually fucked you. you felt how fast and precise her movement was, and it was heavenly.

as your back arched closer to hers, she shifted even more closer to you, practically pinning you onto the bed by hooking both of your legs above her broad shoulders. hitting even deeper then she previously did before, you felt the tip of her cock graze your cervix “mmfh, fuck, fuck- my baby feels so fucking good” saying all that while she’s harshly sinking her teeth into your shoulders.

“s’too much,, ah- jimin, g-good” her urges began to flare up, the only thing on her mind was to mark you up for good. like she was oh so desperate to keep you as hers.

pulling her cock out, in between breaths she instructs you “turn around. y/n turn over for me.. need to- need to fill you up“ taking your legs of her shoulders and flipping you over with ease, again with her predatory gaze, she stares right at your exposed ass in which tempted her to completely destroy you until you can’t stand anymore, leaving you in a state of vulnerability so that she can take care of you.

her alpha instincts were indeed controlling her every movement, the loving and caring alpha you knew was gone. all was left was a dominating alpha who wanted to fuck you till you were filled up with her cum, even if that means you’ll bear her pups.

returning back into your needy cunt, she moans even louder, louder than you’d ever heard. “omega- omega fuck, i’ll mark you. you’re mine, mine only. mine,,, shit you’re mine forever” relentlessly pushing your head into the pillows, her thrusts became frantic and desperate- her movement erratic and messy, it made you love her even more. her alpha side was making you wetter and wetter, bedsheets were covered with your slick.

your moans were insanely unholy. you were screaming and clawing onto whatever you could grab hold onto. her dick growing larger than before and that's when the both of you knew that she was about to knot into you. grabbing her arm for moral support, you dig your nails harshly into them leaving a few minor scars.

right now you looked so fucked out. you were crying, drooling everywhere all while you were screaming out her name. jimin took her time to place a generous amount of bites and hickeys all over your back too. you know… for extra measures of course.

“aah fuck, pleasepleaseplease alpha cum- cum in me” you sobbed out.

“bout to- gonna,, augh fuck cumming” one final harsh thrust into your cunt and her knot swelled as she spilled every ounce of cum into your hole. your cunt clamping down on her as well, essentially locking the two of you. whilst she knotted into you, she swiftly leaned to the back of your neck and inserted her teeth. it hurt a lot, the feeling of her sharp canines sent your nerves on fire, but only a second later and it felt almost orgasmic.

finally she had marked you, but now you were stuck like this for a while. her knot being large enough to just be stuck in this position. both of you were lowkey back into consciousness, the alpha side of her dying down a little bit and the subby omega side of you dissipating.

after a couple of minutes of basking in your orgasm, her knot went down eventually. it was just enough so that you could move slightly which inevitably caused her semen to seep out of your cunt.

“aaah~ can’t… believe.. i… marked.. you..” catching her breath through each word she managed to muster up “that means you’re mine.. forever, right?”

aww big dom alpha jimin was gone, but your cute puppy of a girlfriend was back. you turn around with her cock still in you and see her smiling right at you, her big puppy eyes beaming with glee.

“yeah.. forever”

#wintersera #omegaverse smut #aespa smut #g!p aespa #karina smut #aespa x reader smut #aespa karina smut #aespa x fem reader smut #g!p karina #yu jimin x reader smut #karina x fem reader smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #kpop girl group smut #fem!reader

[itstheghostofmypast]

15.07

Choi San x (f)Reader

Summary: At this point, he didn't know who she loved more, him or Byeol, either way, he was happy. What else could Choi San ask for other than his two favourite girls in the world getting along?

Genre: PURE FLUFF

Warnings: NONE

Word Count: 2.1K

Est. Read Time: 10 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

A/N: No- see @edenesth 💗 did this to me. This timestamp is for my saviour, the one and only @edenesth 💗 , like we should totally blame San for posting such domestic core pics- no wonder we get all delulu- PS THIS COLLAB HAS ME DYING

@edenesth version: [12.58]PM

"San?" she called out, walking down the hallway as she paused in front of the wall-length mirror, fixing her hair once more and checking out her outfit, simple, crisp and a dash of purple. Very different from her usual office attire, very colourful too- after all the first time he had seen her she was in a plain suit, a white dress shirt and slacks, running around collecting printouts for the upcoming spring magazine. That also being the first time he had realised how much he loved the word 'simple'. Okay, fine, perhaps she was dressed on the softer side, but was it so bad to play cute for once? Especially, if she was doing so to please her man. Call it her way of simping.

Truth be told, she wasn't even sure if he was going to show up, after their extensive tour, when he had mentioned the upcoming off days he was to get, she had suggested going to his home town to relax, leaving the city life for a while and although it pained her to know that she would be too busy with her own work at the office, also known as the company he too worked in, she wanted him to rest and relax away from the hustle bustle of his idol life, what she did not expect that after a week of his departure to Namhae, the very next weekend her fluff of a man would be ringing her doorbell in the late hours of the weekend.

"Byeol wanted to see you and so did I, I spent a week there and I'll spend a week here."

Was all he the dimpled man had made his way inside to the living room, opening the carrier to let Byeol out, the living room already a place of her liking. She had been here with San a couple of times; she had also been a very important part of their relationship. Especially on their third date where he had delicately brought up the topic, "Are you allergic to cats?"

"No, why?"

"Do you like cats?"

"Yeah, why?"

He never really answered her question that night, only smiled at her, leaning over the table to add more meat to her plate considering the late hours of the night, her hunger had distracted her from asking more questions, already too emotional at the thought of this angel of a man sacrificing his portion of protein for her - especially after grilling it so well. The only thing that did change was that the next morning she received around 400+ pictures of San's first love, Byeol.

The first time he had brought Byeol over, he was cautious and attentive, making sure both his girls were happy. He asked her cute questions all day- maybe she just found them cute because it was him, or perhaps it was because he was letting her in, into his domain, which is the little kitty roaming around the house.

"Can I put the litter here?"

"All your windows are locked right?"

"Do you mind if I keep the food bowl next to where we eat? She feels lonely otherwise."

"Can she sleep on your bed? I brought her cat mat just in case."

"Can we leave the bedroom door open a bit, so she can come and go without waking us up?"

He stopped when he realised, she wasn't even responding, panicking he looked up from the cat supplies. Maybe she felt like he was intruding or invading her privacy but was too afraid to tell him. Maybe bringing in Byeol was a big step he shouldn't have taken so quickly. What if she meant like she liked cats, at a normal level, like 'oh a cat.'  Not like cuddling them or baby-talking to them. Turning around his eyes scanned the room to spot her holding onto Byeol, carrying her like a baby and cooing at her. It was only then he realised how loud his cat was purring loud enough for it to echo in the silent room.

"Hmmm? You say something, Sannie?" she looked up from Byeol to him, eyes as curious as a cat's, hand resting on the cat's tummy, letting Byeol grab her hand with her soft paws. His heart felt as if it were about to burst out of his ribcage, running to her and landing on her palm, beating in it with an intensity that would borderline scare her. Licking his chapped lips the feline-eyed man shook his head, a genuine dimpled smile forming, one that would send thousands flipping with joy- or in her case have her gushing over it in solitude.

Thus, giving birth to a ritual, often he would spend his free days at his own home, sometimes calling her over, and gratefully his family welcomed her with open arms. On other occasions, he’d drop by to her apartment, bringing their 'daughter' with him.

She remembers the time Byeol had gotten sick. Unfortunately, San was busy that evening, and his parents were out of town so Byeol was to stay with her. Not an issue, at least it wasn't until the third night when San checked his phone after hours of practice late at night. He had decided to stay at the dorm, travelling would be more tiring she understood, but as the man checked his phone his heart almost stopped.

"Byeol is sick, she's vomiting. "

"I'm taking her to the vet."

"She's shivering."

"Okay, my car isn't working!"

'"I ran here, dw, made it in time, they're checking her."

"They say she has a fever, some bug?"

"They want to keep her overnight, idk I mean I can't just leave her here. She looked scared."

"I'm not leaving, but she's sedated. They say she'll be fine."

"San plz reply soon."

"San I'm scared."

Choi San had never run faster in his life he was sure of it, because the moment he burst into the 24/7 pet clinic his lungs were burning worse than a forest fire, his eyes red and blurry, the world around him extremely out of focus as he stumbled to the reception, about to take the patient's name but someone called him instead.

"San!"

His head snapped in her direction, running to her, enveloping her in a tight embrace, trying to calm her down as she began to shiver in his embrace, her words coming out with choked sobs. Hand pressed against her head, he rubbed her back up and down with the other one, looking through the glass window at his cat, sprawled on the table with an IV tube attached.

"It's gonna be okay, it'll be okay."

It took almost an hour to calm her down, he had tried to convince her to go home, she had work the next day but she refused, instead blaming herself for Byeol's health. Though the doctor had assured him it was not because of her incompetency, but the cat food, the cat food Sanhad insisted on changing. Once she found that out, Choi San had to get an earful the remainder of the night, “How can you- I told you not to do that!”

“Babe I- “Don’t babe me! She doesn’t even like salmon! She prefers tuna.”

After the wonderful argument, that through the eyes of an elderly couple waiting for their dog looked like a cute domestic quarrel, came to an end. San remembered sitting next to her sulking as she gave him the silent treatment, though a few moments later her head had landed against his shoulder with a thump, followed by her snores. That night Choi San had realised two things, firstly that he was in love with her and secondly, she probably loved Byeol more than she loved him.

Hence, today they were supposed to go to a cute cafe she had been eying for a month. They had planned on taking Byeol out but since the cat had decided to stay up all night, running around the apartment she was tired today. San had just mocked her, claiming that Byeol knew it was Valentine's Day so she wanted her parents to spend the day together. However, he later countered himself with a, "Though each day is like Valentine's Day with you, love."

Clearing her throat, she dusted off the invisible dust, adjusting her cardigan before making her way to the living room once more, calling out to her significant other, "San! I'm ready to let's go." though his lack of response was confusing her, so she called out again, "Sannie where are you-" her word stopped as soon as she turned the corner, into her living room, spotting a giant starfish sprawled out on the wooden floor. Next to him was Byeol, staring down at him, San's hand pressed against his cat's back in a soothing manner, but she knew what he was doing, making sure his cat didn't move because Byeol was not only pretty but smart too, she knew what her dad was doing.

Sighing she walked closer to him, standing next to Byeol who looked up at her, blinking slowly, before turning back to stare at San. She stared down at him, arms crossed before slowly poking his side with her foot, watching him pretend and stretch, groaning as he cracked an eye open, "Oh~ you're finally done?"  

"Mhmmm." Raising a questioning brow she nodded, "And?"

"Oh, I mean" Sitting up he stretched his legs, much similar to how Byeol would do so, "Byeol said her mommy was taking so long in the shower that we fell asleep, waiting for you…" his words trailed off when he turned to look at her, his breath hitching at the sight of the soft pastels, the pretty purple, purple really was her colour. Clearing his throat he quickly got up, standing to talk in front of her, merely a few inches away from her as he stretched his arms over his head before casually bringing them down, not so discreetly wrapping them around her and slamming her into him, smirking when she whined.

"The dress will wrinkle Sannie." she tried to push him away but he pulled her closer, leaning down to peck the tip of her nose, "You can't look like a pretty pixie and not expect me to hold onto you like Captain Hook kidnapped Tinkerbell."

"What an analogy."  she mumbled, letting him squeeze her into his warm chest, feeling the vibrations as he chuckled, "You look very pretty…I like your cardigan."

"Thanks, your mom gave it to me last birthday. " Her arms wrapped around his waist, letting him gently sway them from side to side.

“Who do you think chose it?” he smiled down at her, finally meeting her with a gentle kiss, one she savoured greatly, hands fisting his shirt as his palm pressed against her back before slowly trailing down, though their little moment came to halt sudden when a high-pitched squeak caught their ears. Pulling back, she looked down at Byeol, frowning before turning to look at San, “Why isn’t she wearing her leash?” “What do you mean?”

Tutting at her gorgeous idiot of a man, she pulled away completely before crouching to grab the cat and walking towards the door where they hung coats and her leash. “I said we’re going to the café.”

“I know,” he mumbled scratching his head, a bit confused as to what she meant, “I got a booking for it, no? Why are you – we can’t take her there and it's almost time for our reservation.”

“Aww~ don’t listen to daddy, Byeol” San watched her talk to his cat instead of him, watching her put on Byeol’s harness and leash, somewhat impressed because Byeol never let him do that this easily, though the next statement had him blushing mad. “He’s a bit slow, handsome, but slow, he forgot we’re going to a cat café, you’ll have fun there~ Won’t you baby~”

Letting out a hearty chuckle he closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief, of course she’d come up with this idea on her own. She had mentioned earlier how leaving Byeol home wasn’t fun especially when the cat was their ‘child’ and leaving their child unattended was cruel. He watched the cat jump off the table and onto the floor, meowing up at his lover who sent Byeol a flying kiss, San didn’t know what heaven was, but if anyone were to ask him to describe what it looked like, the view was right in front of him.

“Any kisses for me?” He asked walking up to his two girls, who were almost out the door, pausing when she winked at him, “depends big boy. Might need to send our baby back home for a while if that’s what you want.” And that had the man shivering with excitement running after her as the two made it to the elevator, already planning on asking someone or one of the guys to watch his little baby for the night, so he could have a night with his kitten.

“Don’t worry, I think that can be arranged, kitten.”

Taglist: @edenesth @mlysalt @spooo00oky @cereal-simp @yessa-vie

#cromernet #k labels #ateez imagine #ateez fluff #choi san #hongjoong #break the wall #seonghwa #mingi #yunho #jongho #fluff #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #atiny #yeosang #song mingi #ateez #atz x reader #atz imagines #choi san x reader #san x reader #san x you #san x y/n #ateez fic #ateez scenario #xikers #ateezedit #valentines

[ressonancee]

IMPATIENT

✦ genre: friends with benefits, a dash of humor (?), reader is a bit of a brat and this has sub and dom undertones - smut

✦ word count: 3.040

✦ Thea note: okay first this was supposed to be a drabble for my girl @toruro so mika - i hope you enjoy it. second, I won't say anything bad about my own work but lately, i have been so busy and tired that writing is just harder than usual even when I have fun with it, i really like reader on this one so maybe we will see a pt 2 when my brain is not working at 25% of its capability - but I do hope y'all enjoy this even tho my brain is like fighting for dear life!!!

Your mind was completely empty. 

Hoshi had been speaking for a solid thirty minutes and if somebody asked what was the problem you couldn’t say something because everything that left Hoshi’s mouth did reach your ear, but your brain didn’t process it, because you were too busy using all your cognitive function. The only thing you could focus on was how Minghao was laughing at something Jeonghan said - even tho you actually didn’t hear his giggle it was something that you knew so well that your brain made you believe that he was laughing right there - at your side, but more than that, it was on how a brunette girl who was actually on his side - eating everything up, laughing at everything, looking at Minghao in awe, that, that scene was what making your brain way too busy. 

"And then she was like super angry that I didn't text her I mean she said we should stop talking first-" Hoshi said and stared at you waiting for an answer.

"Yeah, that's sucks, I'm sorry," you say taking another sip of your beer, "you know what? Maybe you should talk to Jeonghan. He could totally talk to her about how you misunderstood everything," you say already trying to drag Soonyoung to the other side of the room. 

"Yo!” Hoshi’s eyes lit up, “That's- That's really nice advice,"

"Right, let's talk to him," You say interlocking your arms with Hoshi and finally dragging him across the room, not even feeling that sorry, but again, you were too curious, too focused, to actually care about Hoshi’s love problem. Hell, you had one of your own right in your point of view

"Jeonghan my guy!" Hoshi calls making everyone in that little circle pay attention to you two. 

"What is going on?" Minghao asks when you stop at his side, that side-eye he gives you when he knows - somehow - that you have been up to no good. 

"You ask me?" You try your best to bat your eyelashes at him, even tho you know he won’t eat it up. 

"You were the one planning everything," Minghao says.

“Planning?” The brunette girl asks, and she is cute, she seems nice, she is the epitome of the girl next door.

“Oh yeah, planning how Hoshi is gettin’ his girl back you see-” You start, trying your best to be your own version of the girl next door.

“Hey I need something to drink, be right back,” Minghao says and starts to drag you to the kitchen - oh, that was how Hoshi felt? Weird, Karma was acting super fast lately. 

“Wait I wasn't planning-” You try to argue, huffing, and almost stomping your feet, "I was listening to a good friend talk about his heartbreak, and you? What were you doing with miss brunette and Jeonghan?"

"Are you?" He says and you can see how the corners of his mouth start to lift up, the foreshow of a smile and you just can’t take it.

"Nope," you say, trying your best, but you know he already won. 

"You are!" He giggles - that silly giggle he always does, the giggle that you love to hear, the giggle that makes your heart full almost to the point it bursts. And you give up, because you know he knows, "Maybe? A little?"

"Sure, a little," Minghao says, crossing his arms and leaning on the kitchen counter, and god he looks so good, he is tired and you know that because he has his glasses on instead of his contacts, his hair is already huffed up and longer - you like that, and you like to think he didn’t show up on his monthly haircut because you said that to him the last time, 

"Can we-" you start and before you finish you can see his smile. 

"Sure, you go first or I go first?" He asks. You two made a routine of it, made an almost everyday practice, a little secret that you two shared, tucked in away os the curious eyes of everyone else. In a way, it was something sacred, cherished, something only you two could tap into.  

"To your room?" You ask even though you know it is the only place possible right now, Minghao just nods, "Okay I go first, but you should go talk to Hoshi, he is in actual distress I wasn’t planning that up"

"Sure," Minghao says, standing in front of you - he looks at the door before he holds your face and just plants his lips on yours. And before you can say anything he vanishes. 

Leaving you there, standing still in the middle of the kitchen.

It was weird the whole sneaking out to not get caught part of the deal. You and Minghao have been friends for so long that your friends were his friends, and his friends were your friends and the whole thing was just messy. And maybe you didn't want to share that with everyone - every new detail of Hao was yours. But you also didn’t want to share the tiptoeing in the shallow water phase. 

In a way you wanted to learn what that was, is, and will become on your own.

So you try your best to not draw any attention to yourself, the first step of the process pick yourself a cold beer - that's why you were in the kitchen. Step two, go to Minghao's room, not that much trouble. Step three is not to fall asleep in his bed, he does spend way too much money on bedsheets, it feels like you are lying in a cloud. Soft, fluffy, and slightly cold against your skin. 

And you are almost drifting until you hear the door open, and it is not Hao.

"Hey," Chan says, already rummaging around, opening Minghao's drawers, "Did you see a charger around? Someone took mine, for real people need to understand boundaries in this household."

"Don't you tell me," you say smiling at Chan, the irony of it. 

"Yeah I know," he huffs making you laugh, "but someone stole mine first," then he turns out you, his expression is almost a question mark, "Wait, are you okay? Why are you here?"

"Just a headache," you say trying your best to give an academy winner performance, lifting up your hand, touching your forehead and all.

"Oh yeah, do you need anything? I know this house is a mess but we do have painkillers," Chan says sincerely. 

"No, no, already took one, I'm good, thanks Channie," you say almost feeling bad to lie, almost being the keyword.

"Chan, what are you doing?" Minghao says resting his shoulder on the door. 

"Oh man," Chan says defeated, "I am doing nothing, and if your charger disappeared it wasn't me ok? Mine was stolen too,"

"I-" Minghao shakes his head, huffing up a bit while closing the door. 

"Lock it," you remark "or we will get Mingyu searching for a hair tie while your dick is in my mouth," You say taking off your own shirt, and already working on the button of your pants when Minghao's cold hands reach yours.

"Why are you always in a hurry," he says, his hands traveling to your shoulders, pressing you down until your back finds the mattress. 

"You do live with four other guys, so-" you say like it was common sense, because you know Minghao's roommates, they are your friends as well, and you know they are fucking nosy.

"No, you always like that," Minghao says, lowering his body against yours, "even when nobody is around," he says against your neck. 

"I'm not," you say, hands on the back of his neck, playing with his hair while his lips find the skin of your neck.

"You are," he says kissing your jaw, "you need to learn how to be patient."

"Yeah, whatever," you say almost rolling your eyes, tugging at Minghao's hair, "not today though." 

"Why not?" Minghao says, voice low like he is telling you a secret, while his digits trace the strap of your bra. 

"Because," you whine but Minghao is still working in slow motion, his lips tracing your collarbones, "today you gonna fuck me stupid, I can learn something tomorrow"

"I can fuck you stupid even if we do it slowly," Minghao giggles again, god and you almost hate him, his fingers finally tugging the strap enough, he gives your shoulder a kiss before tugging the cup of your bra. 

"And if I say please?" You say making Minghao stop on his track and you almost laugh before he looks at you.

"If you say what?"

"If I say pretty please can you fuck me stupid and like right now? You can totally teach me a lesson tomorrow or-" you say hands against Minghao's face and tugging him just enough until he understands what you want - him - pressed against you, his lips against yours, him against your hands, your mind is only filled with thoughts of him, him, him.

“Come on-” Minghao says, holding your head - making you whine a little when you try to follow him, trying to keep your lips connected, “say it”

“Oh no,” It’s your time to giggle, your smile plastered across your face, and it is so easy to be happy when Minghao's cold hands are against your waist when he is kneeling between your thighs, “You like it too much”

“And? What’s wrong with that?” he says dragging his hands over your body until reaches the waistband of your jeans, “If you ask prettily," Minghao pauses tugging at the belt loops, "you know I will give you everything you ask for”

"Promise?" You say, your own voice sounds different against your ears somehow, your hands holding Minghao's forearm. You can feel your cheeks burn, but just like Minghao, you are willing to give him everything he asks for. And he just nods, hands pressed against your thighs now. "Can you please just fuck me? I promise tomorrow you can tease me and take your precious time."

"Yeah, sure sweetheart," Minghao says smirking at you, it is so condescending that you want to stand up and pick a fight with him, but in the end he means it - he is already working on your jeans, hands dragging against your hips before he gets off the bed just to pull at the bottom hem. "but, just so you know, make sure you have a free afternoon tomorrow."

"Sure, sure, gonna timeblock you right after my dentist appointme-" you start but end up being cut off by your own welp of surprise because Minghao's hand finds your thigh and drags you across the bed.

"You are so smart-mouthed sometimes," he says again finding his place in the space between your thighs, and you just pout - not because of the quip, but because he is still fully dressed, "What?"

"You're still dressed," you say tugging at the hem of his shirt, and Minghao laughs again like you are saying the silliest thing in the world, but that doesn't take your mind away when he lowers his body to kiss you again. 

You try your best to keep your mind focused, still tugging Minghao's shirt, hands lifting the material off his back until it's pooling at his shoulders. When Minghao gets on his knee to finally take the damn thing off you follow him, lips against his chest, hands already on his jeans. 

"Come on," you complain, tugging at his jeans. 

"Ok, ok," Minghao huffs out before leaving the bed again, looking at you with a smirk on his face, "I'm taking it off don't need to pout," he says finally taking off those damn jeans but leaving on his underwear, "come on, your turn"

"Hun?" You say totally distracted, making Minghao giggle again, "Oh okay," you finally get what he means, taking off your own bra. 

"Fuck," Minghao says, before he is kissing you again, "you are so pretty, you should let me-"

"Baby you promised," you whine, because you know Minghao like the back of your hand. 

"You are the first one that hates the idea of me taking my time," Minghao says when his hands find your hips, tugging at your panties, making you lift your hips a little to help him, "I could totally eat you out right now,"

"I know," you whine, and it is true, he could eat you out, and you know he loves doing it. But Minghao is right, you do not have the patience, "tomorrow I let you go down on me for like forty-five minutes"

"You say like that is a hassle for you," Minghao says, hands against your knee, eyes on your pussy,  "or for me by the way"

"Oh for fuck sake," you try to close your legs even though Minghao’s hand is still on your knees, blocking your action. 

"Ok ok sh-" Minghao says, finally lowering his underwear, and for the first time you think about it. Think about learning how to be patient, to be calm, and composed, just so you can change your plans just to put Minghao’s dick in your mouth. Okay, maybe not calm and collected but less stubborn, but before you can say it all Minghao is just taking too long searching for the condom making you impatient again, but before you can complain he guides his dick to your pussy.

“This is insane,” you complain, Minghao hovering over you, his longer bangs over your face, making you ticklish. 

“What?” Minghao says against the skin of your neck, his voice sound muffled. His hand is still on your waist, his dick hot against your thigh. 

“You really want to make me beg?” You say tugging Minghao’s hair, “Is this a kink? Do we need to talk about this?” 

“I mean, I’m not really against a pretty girl begging for my dick,” Minghao says, making you shudder.

“Not gonna give you that,” you say - and it is not because you are stubborn, you are, and you know that, but with Minghao is just fun, the push and pull of it, the banter, this thing going on between the two off you. 

“You are so fucking stubborn,”

“Come on, I already said please,” You say pretending you are against the idea of begging Minghao - like you never did before. 

“Sure baby,” Minghao says giving you a kiss on your cheeks, and is just so sweet like he is not about to fuck you like he is not holding his dick against your pussy - rubbing himself against you, "Just because you said please", he says in that condescending tone, but before you can argue or raise your voice, Minghao is finally fucking you and the feel of his dick stretching you out is enough to make you speechless. 

And it was always like that, it always ended up with Minghao filling you up.

And you can't complain when he is fucking you the way he likes it - a lewd pace that makes your mind spin, it makes you claw Minghao's back, while his grip against your tightens. Maybe - you think to yourself - just maybe you try to hurry Minghao up to see if he caves up, to see if he has another side inside him, to see if he fucks you hard and fast makes you like him less, makes you less addicted to the feel of his skin against yours, the feel of his mouth against your neck. 

But he never complies. 

He keeps fucking you at his own pace, at his own volition. 

“Hao please,” you beg - because you are ready to give Minghao everything he wants if he gives you something in return. 

“Ah, so now we are not above begging?” Minghao chuckles, his voice so close to your ear that his lips graze your skin. 

“Please,” you try again “I will beg, I will do whatever you want I promise.” 

“Come on,” Minghao says, one of his hand trailing against your skin, until it reach your neck, “we both know you won’t, behaving is against your own existence” 

“You say that like you hate it”

“I actually love it, that’s the problem,” Minghao says, planting a kiss on your cheeks before he finally picks up his pace.

You understand Minghao really, sometimes you are too hastened. Is not like you are particularly against him taking his time, warming you up, eating you out, and fucking you at his own pace - you enjoy all that. But you also enjoy what he is doing now, fucking you fast and hard enough that you need to hold on for dear life.

You like this Minghao too - this version of him that nothing is holding him back. 

And the only thing in your mind is Minghao.

The only thing you can think about is him. How he feels against you, how Minghao licks your skin, how his hand clutches your hips, and how he is panting against your neck. When everything starts to get muffled you know that you are almost there - and the only thing you can do to muffle your own noises is to bite down Minghao's shoulder. 

And everything stands still for a minute.

“We need to stop sneaking out,” MInghao says panting above you, you look at him and how disheveled he looks, how his sweaty hair clings to his forehead. He always says that to you, how he always brings that up after sex, If he weren’t a non-believer you would say it was the Christian guilt kicking in after sex, but you know Minghao, and you know why he asks.

“Yeah, I think Chan is finally catching up that something is going on,” You say, your own smile plastered on your face when you hear his silly giggle. 

You look at Minghao again, he is sitting on the bed, back against you. probably dealing with his condom, and you try to bite your own tongue, you try to hold yourself back but the urge to say something is stronger than you, and to be honest when it is about pushing Minghao’s buttons you are not the strongest soldier “but first we are going to talk about your kink list sir," and Minghao silly giggle just turns into a disapproving growl. 

#xu minghao fic #xu minghao fanfic #xu minghao smut #xu minghao x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #t: xu minghao #t: writting #svt fic #svt fanfic

[1800-page-not-found]

Hi! Glad to see an ORV writer. They seem to be a very rare breed. Like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Anyhow, as you might have guessed. I have an ORV request for you. I got sort of inspired by that vampire. How about having our reader being a phoenix? Ya know the mythical immortal firebird? With the related powers? Like how would KDJ and YHJ react to their “s/o” being one? Like say they seemingly ‘died’ but then ina red flash of flames they are instantly revived, completely healed.

School is starting soon which means my updates are gonna be even scarcer lol

Kim Dokja, Yoo Joonghyuk (seperate) x reader

Summary: You sacrificed yourself for them, but just before they can grieve, you come back to life?

Using the Disaster of Floods chapters when Shin Yoosung obliterated KDJ in the novel.

also, Yoo joonghyuk never dated Lee seolhwa bc plot

Kim Dokja knew you were a phoenix, as it said from the story and your character profile said so. What he didn't realize was the fact that you also shared the same abilities as one (your character was mentioned only a few times in TWSA). So when you died, Kim Dokja was terrified.

Kim Dokja's eyes widened at your body standing in front of him. Nononono! He-He was supposed to take the shot! Why did you do that?! You knew he could revive again!-why?

He dashed to catch your fallen body. "No, no, no! [name]! Y-you can't die! Shit! Why did you do that!?" But your body had already fell limp. Kim Dokja cried for his favorite side character, his lover, his idol.

He held you close, yet tears were unable to fall due to the fourth wall. "I can't even cry or mourn you...What kind of lover am I?" He could only close his eyes and curse fate for doing this to him.

-

You opened your eyes to darkness, until a screen popped up.

[You have died.]

[Revitalization count down has finished.]

[The skill, Phoenix:Revive, is taking effect.]

-

Kim Dokja's eyes opened, then widening as your body started to burn. He could only step back, and watch as your body lit on fire. Your clothes started to burn, besides the ones which were fire resistant. 'I couldn't even give you a proper goodbye and their taking me away from you?...' Kim Dokja thought bitterly. He looked down at the ground, clenching his fists in anger.

-

You opened your eyes, your body feeling warm as a flame engulfed you. 'Ah...how nice it is to be a phoenix...' You sighed in relief.

-

The sound of your sigh snapped Kim Dokja's head up to you. "[N-name]? H-how?" Oh, how he wanted to cry so much right then and there. Too bad for the fourth wall.

You stood up as the flames lessoned and cooled down, dusting off some ash. "Huh?...But I thought you knew? I'm a phoenix remember?" You tilted your head in confusion. Wasn't he the one to realize you were a phoenix the moment you met? Surely it wasn't a bluff right?

"A-ah right...how could I be so foolish..." He mumbled, blushing a bit as his heart rate cooled down from the shock. He ran up to you, hugging you tightly and not letting go, ignoring the sweat and high temperature that surrounded you. "Y-you can't do that again!.."

You stood still, a menacing aura coming from you. "What the hell do you mean 'I can't do that again?' Once the cool down is finished, I won't let you die. Hypocrite. You were gonna take the shot for that wretched man, so why can't I?" You seethed in anger.

"Right right sorry..." Kim Dokja scratched his head bashfully. You were right... "I won't stop you okay? Don't be mad..." (He lied he was going to make sure you never had the chance to sacrifice yourself again no matter what).

---------

Just as Shin Yoosung fired the bright beam, your body instinctively moved. "Joonghyuk! Stop staring like a deer in headlights!-" You grabbed Yoo Joonghyuk by the collar, throwing him back behind you as you took the hit.

"Keugh!-" You fell on your knees, coughing up blood nonstop. "A-Ah..no...[name]?..." Yoo Joonghyuk took fast, trembling steps as he caught your falling body.

"Heuk...it hurts...Joonghyuk it hurt so much!..." You cried, your tears mixing with your blood as it dripped down to the side of your face. "P-please don't regress...These new companions, don't abandon them please. I'll be okay.." You begged, grasping onto Yoo Joonghyuk's clothes weakly, before dropping limp, dead.

"Haah, Haah..." Yoo Joonghyuk breathed deeply. Why did he have to see you die again? His only lover in each regression, who cherished him deeply and believed him when he told them he was a regressor, and stayed by his side no matter what. "Why?...Why did you die for me?" Tears dripped down onto your face. The single fear Yoo Joonghyuk had every regression...your death.

-

You opened your eyes to darkness. 'I wonder if he stayed?' You pondered. He, your lover, the man who saved you from your eternal cure of sleep as a phoenix.

[You have died.]

Ah right, you were a phoenix.

[Revitalization count down has finished.]

Thankfully, the countdown ended, so you could return to your lover.

[The skill, Phoenix:Revive, is taking effect.]

-

Yoo Joonghyuk felt a burning pain in his hands as you were set ablaze. "No!" Yoo Joonghyuk screamed, were the gods not even allowing him to bury you properly? Kim Dokja had to hold Yoo Joonghyuk back as he thrashed around, continuously hurting the man, trying to reach his lover.

"[NAME]!" He shouted, then eyes widening as he stepped back. "[name]?..." Your clothes were a bit burned besides the fire resistant ones.

"I wonder if he stayed?..." You mumbled, looking around. You really hoped he didn't regress.

"Y-you're alive...H-how?" Joonghyuk stood still.

"I'm a phoenix, remember? I can come back to life." You smiled, tears dripping down your face. "I'm so happy you didn't regress this time."

His eyes widened in horror and regret. Does that mean..Every time you died and he had regressed, you came back to life moments later? No...no...how-how much time had you spent alone? How could he leave you?

Guilt crept into him. He took a shaky step towards you. "E-every time...you came back?.." His eyes widened, hands shaking as he reached out to hug you.

You nodded solemnly. "I'm afraid so." A bitter chuckle came from you lips. He spoke, "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to leave you, I-" You cut him off and hugged him as he sobbed into your shoulder.

"Its alright, my dear. Just don't do it again alright? Wait for me. I don't want to be alone."

"Alright." He whispered.

#orv x reader #omniscient reader's viewpoint #orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint x reader #kim dokja #kim dokja x reader #kdj x reader #kdj #yjh #yoo joonghyuk x reader #yoo joonghyuk #yjh x reader #manhwa x reader

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Rigor Mortis (part 3)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 2, Part 4

summary: A bad day turns even worse. Miguel surprises you.

warnings: angst angst angst, mentions of grief, very vague mention of domestic violence and abuse.

recommended reading: the painting Ophelia by John Everett Millais, and the song Ophelia by the lumineers.

a/n: i lowkey suck at communicating my "big" ideas so i really really hope this makes sense!

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 3.8k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

they were here, she says,

You’ve had your share of bad days.

Oh God , enough to fill an A4 binder with. For example, knocking out that tooth when you were twelve. A butterfly effect of fuck ups that led to a scuffle at school: blood in your mouth, a tooth on the ground, and a looong suspension. You received quite the earful at home, that day. 

And then there was telling your parents you had dropped out of college. Telling them you were moving halfway across the country with your boyfriend. Breaking up with said boyfriend in your favourite diner; thus sullying Pam’s waffles and pancakes with the bitter taste of… oh-fuck-I-don’t-know-how-I’ll-afford-an-apartment-now. Oh, and heartbreak – although that wasn’t as immediate. 

Scratch that, the day of the breakup had been fairly mundane. Pleasant, even. Jamie had an off day, and you only had a few lectures. He didn’t tell you, of course, so meeting him in the apartment was a surprise. You’re home earlier than usual, and you can’t quite bear to wake him up; slumped on the sofa like an old cat. He’s tired, lectures and clerkships running him ragged for the past few years. Only a year out until residency, with bags under his eyes as proof, and you see him less and less.  All things considered, you’re glad to spend the rest of the day with him. 

You’d spent too long after the break up analysing the days leading up to it: for a sign, something in his behaviour that would’ve warned you. And so, you remember it quite vividly: kicking your shoes off, putting your bag down, and sinking into the sofa next to him. You curl into him, looking up at his face: steady, tempered breathing. Something at your chest, solid and heavy. He looks peaceful, happy; and you haven't seen that side of him in quite a while. 

When you shift against him, you knock against his shoulder. Jamie stirs, groggy, and eyes adjusting to the light. The first thing he sees as he wakes is you; romantic, in theory. His expression is etched into your subconscious; stark and stiff like a marble statue, or a tombstone. A flash of disappointment, lip drawn in what seemed like disgust – but only for a moment.  

" Morning , baby." You squeeze his side, and take his hand into yours. That look ; it's gone almost as quickly as it came. 

"Thought…" He frowns, fighting dregs of sleep. "I thought you would be back later."

"Nope." You give him a smile and he returns with one that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He puts a hand on your cheek. 

"Morning," Probably tired, he sighs deeply. You move on with the day. And he breaks up with you, not even 6 hours later.

You had had 4 years of that: good days, bad days, but most of them had been… mundane. Boring. Not quite the heat and intensity of true love, as the movies had gaslighted you into believing in. 

You like the old black and white ones the best. Old fashioned, old-timey folk; declarations of love in tinny transatlantic accents. Suddenly, you’re on the floor of your childhood bedroom; eyes wide at the Sound of Music. Maria and Von Trapp hand in hand: her dress billowing, the flash of white glove on the small of her back. Love, love, love; and your lack of it.

You feel its loss all the same. 

Despite all your efforts – including a dash to the station that could rival an Olympic sprinter – you were late to your first lecture. Sweaty, out of breath, and ambushed with a pen and paper; thrust into your hands on arrival. You look around to see dozens of heads down, scribbling furiously. A surprise test – and you’re late.

Hand aching, you barely finish within the two hours, after bullshitting your way through at least half of the questions. By the looks of the people streaming out of the hall; faces rumpled and grimacing; you’re not the only one. However, it does little to comfort you. You’re sure you're the only one failing so spectacularly, with the semester already half over. 

You'd smacked your leg on the coffee table on the way out and a book had slammed to the floor. An art book, the kind in a model home - and you know damn well Miguel's not an enthusiast. The image sticks for some reason, leg aching as you trudge to your next class. When he gives you that blank look; the memory of men gone past is haunting – dead-eyed, and blank, like eyes cut out of a painting. You wonder if a Van Gogh would feel the same with the brilliant blue of eyes slashed out. 

Nevertheless, you feel like lead. Off

to your next class, and it's going over material passed out the day before; which you didn’t have the time to look over. The professor drones on; voice monotonous and gravelly. Struggling to keep up, you sink into your seat – tapping away at your laptop, whatever you can get down. You pick at your lip, unravelling; unfurling like the tip of a slashed rope.

That's what you’re waiting for, you think: sandbags clattering down from stage left, to bring the rest of this whole farce down.

A sinking feeling, that starts at your chest and makes its way to the tops of your fingers and toes, leaves you numb for the rest of the day. Dread, like a shadow, at your heels in the corridors, across the courtyard, all around campus. Another lecture, and you make it in time for labs, barely, but there’s no time to go over notes; what you managed to scrape together in preparation. And of course , your lab partner’s sick, because that’s just the kind of day you’re having. It’s hectic, doing the work of two people with only the scraps you’ve cobbled together. 

The pressure mounts. Like liquid in that flask you weren’t meant to stopper; and you just might end up like its remnants on the counter. Glass everywhere but where it should be. For a good grade, it helps to be organised: everything in its place, always. Except it isn’t, and you’ve fucked it up, again . It means the results don’t match up in your lab book, and another hour staring at liquid decanting, monitoring temperatures. Staring at stark white walls, with achy legs. 

You step out whilst machines run in your stead, and shed your lab coat. It’s hot and stuffy in there but out in the corridor, you can finally breathe. Forehead on the cool wall, it all stops for a moment. The persistent buzz of your phone, sat in the pocket of your trousers, creeps into the quiet. 

Absent-mindedly, you turn it on with a click. The buzzing stops. You’ve just missed a call from Miguel. It’s odd, he doesn’t usually call, but it’s the little box underneath the notification that makes you pause. A message, from a number you thought you’d blocked – that you should’ve blocked. 

From:Jamie <3

Hey

From:Jamie <3

We should meet. I’ve still got some of your things in the apartment.

Your blood runs cold. Dread, like a shadow; its hand wrapped your neck. You can’t breathe, stuck under the weight of something at your chest. You can’t breathe, the walls close in. We should meet , he says. Like it’s the easiest thing in the world; just friends catching up over a coffee. Like you didn’t watch him carve out a chunk of your heart with a rusty spoon. 

A panic attack, and you’re awkwardly hunched over by the wall, phone in hand. Someone will find you here, lying on the vinyl floor in Block B, spread eagle between lab 6 and 7. Dramatic timing, but if it kills you; you’ll find a way to haunt your ex's ass for the foreseeable future. And Miguel’s too, because if you’re having a bad day; then somewhere out there, he’s having a good one. 

~~~

The apartment is still when Miguel gets back – unusually so. You’re not on the sofa, watching a mindless soap opera, or howling some song in the shower. And he’s had to deal with that most days for the past few weeks, a break in the peace and quiet he’s so carefully cultivated. Rigorous routine, they keep him together. He needed it; the way myth needs a martyr, the way flowers on a small grave needs a body. A tick-tick-tick in his head, that drives him a little less crazy after a morning run, or a good meal when he comes home. A countdown, he thinks, a mechanical clock whirring and puttering with a shake of its gears. He feels them stutter and start, slowing down, but not quite stopping. An ache so deep, he feels its creak with every step. 

Absent-mindedly, he looks around the empty apartment, pulling at his ears.

When he was younger, Gabi would pull at his ears, to get him out of a book. Reading, always reading, whenever he could. At the dinner table, when his mamá would rap his knuckles with a wooden spoon and chuckle lightly at his little grimace. No en la mesa, Miguelito. Not at the table, Miggy. Léeme más tarde – read it to me later.

It was when he got his braces, and picked up a slight lisp. He stopped talking for a while, not completely; but a lot less, not as interactive in lessons. And it was always little Miguel, at the front of the class with his hand up to answer. It didn’t help that Gabi poked fun at him, often sneaking up to him to hiss in his ear: palms pressed together with a slithering motion, and then a strike to his ribs like una víbora - a viper , struggling to say his S’s. They’d fight because of it after, tousling on the floor of their bedroom in a mass of limbs, like pythons squeezing prey. Or at least, until their mamá rushed to separate them. 

She didn’t like it when her boys fought; so they’d been forced to make up every time. He still has the scars to prove it.

Car magazines at first, and then the newspaper, whatever book he had picked up at the library that week. Even with his lisp, his mother made sure he read to her, and sometimes to Gabi as well, at least once a week. Looking back, she was never perfect; the things he knows now about his dear mamá, and her visage tumbles like Ozymandias in the sand. Her mother, married to a piece-of-shit mechanic; and his mother, elbow deep in the oil spill. That’s the funny thing about love, he thinks. Love, and the lack of it; dripping through the cracks, passed on through generations. Maybe mamá felt the gears shuddering in her chest. He hopes Gabi was saved from that burden. 

A small voice at the back of his mind tells him: it’s not enough. Doesn’t explain the little boy pulling at his ears, in Miguel’s jacket and dress shoes.

A glimpse in the reflection of a shiny pan on the side table, and he looks like shit. Eyebags, a permanent scowl, shadowy lines that prick at the corners of his eyes. It’s ironic, crows feet without the penchant for laughing. He thinks you’d find it funny. The pink and purple of a setting sun spills in through windows and makes him sigh. It’s late, and you’re still not home. 

God, you're strange; sticking your nose where you shouldn't. Disrupting the calm of his apartment. A sanctuary, and you've got your grubby paws all over it. Your shit is all over the place; pun-based mugs in the cabinet, chewed pen lids with no pens in sight, a blanket on the couch. The same blanket, a ratty old thing, that he usually meets you wrapped in when he gets back. A creature of habit, he folds it up; trying to ignore the whispers of your perfume, sweet and heady on the fabric.

He gets dressed, starting with dinner; knife on a chopping board cutting onions and peppers into cubes. It's therapeutic, the steady thud ringing out into the kitchen. Quiet, for a fleeting moment. But the worry, it sticks ; despite his better judgement. Before he changes his mind, he clicks open his phone to call you. It rings out – you don’t pick up.

The urge to call again is surprisingly troublesome, so he shoves it down with a piece of tortilla. It sits in his chest, regardless.

~~~

You trudge into the apartment. Squelch seems more accurate, sopping wet as you step out of waterlogged trainers. It was an inopportune time to wear jeans and forget a jacket – and you fight the urge to wring out onto the wooden planks. Miguel would kill you; the place was already falling apart, and water-warped floorboards might just be the last straw.

It’s thundering outside; a torrential downpour you’d just been dragged through. Dragged, half-running through streets-turned-streams, with nothing but a tank top and hoodie on your back. And you must look a sight , eyes bleary and slick with rainwater. The bag heavy on your back goes first, slipped off your shoulder and on the floor next to the coffee table with a thunk . You’re unzipping the flimsy canvas, inspecting its contents. A soaked through textbook, clumps of loose paper. You’re ready to cry when you see what's happened to the pages of your lab book; bleeding ink that’s only half-legible. But it’s the state of your laptop that makes your chest really heave and knees weak.

It’s slick with rainwater, and the sandwich you’d forgotten to eat, smeared across its fans. Caked on, more accurately; an odd sludge that you try your best to wipe away. You put it on the coffee table and your hand shakes as you press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead. 

You sink onto the floor, head in your hands between the coffee table and the couch. Everything was on there: photos from senior prom, end of semester projects – your whole life. You have to dig your teeth into your bottom lip to bite back a scream.

Miguel peers from the kitchen, watching your silent breakdown. Quiet, and so still, with only the slight shake of shoulders to tell him that something is wrong. He glances at your half-opened laptop. He’d eaten already, clearing up what remains of his dinner and this is the sight he’s greeted with: the lady of the lake, lain between the reeds. 

He shakes the image out of his head, and walks over. You feel a tentative prod, and look up.

“...I called you,” He says lightly, scratching at his neck.

You blink up at him. He thinks you look like a painting, watery and forlorn, framed in the yellow light of the soft bulbs.

“I was busy,” It’s not said with malice, nor as lilting as your usual sarcasm. Plain, simple. Busy. Your head slumps back into the little hollow you’ve made with your arms.

And so he sits, shoulders brushing against yours. He’s frustratingly patient, presence warm and comfortable despite… well, despite everything. 

You can’t help it. Popping back up, you state, “You never call, though.”

“You’re never this late home.” Home. The word is heavy, knocks you onto your heels.

“So?” You shrug. “Could’ve been out with friends, or at a club–”

Laughter slips out like apples loose in a bag, spills onto the floor. Crisp, sweet; but you glare at him all the same. 

“You don’t have friends.” He says it with the remnants of a smile, teasing. A challenge, and you’re more than happy to accept. 

“ Not true , fuckface.” It is. You'd lost track of most of your friends after moving – and all the ones you made here? Your friends were Jamie's friends, and they chose him  in the divorce. " You don't have any friends."

"I do ."

"You don't." It's your turn to scoff. "It's a Friday night and you're in here, washing up and planning to go to bed at a reasonable time."

"I'm an adult, doesn't mean I don't have–" 

"The ones you fuck don't count." And then you pinch the bridge of your nose. "God forbid, if that's how you treat your friends…" 

He laughs, properly, and you feel it in your chest too: the kind of laughter that bubbles like little breaths rising to the top of a lake. 

“M’serious.” He says it in between gasping breaths and you try to steady your own giggles. "And, I have a friend who could take a look at your laptop, if you wanted."

His eyes flick over to the crime scene besides you. It's sweet, but.. "It's gone, Miguel, I know. You don't need to… try and make me feel better."

" Chula ," He flicks the deep lines forming at your brow. You look up and he says, softly, "I'm not trying to make you feel better. I'm trying to get you off of the floor so I can mop up that puddle."

With the way he says it, with that little smile, you don't believe him. 

Now he's got your attention, he says, "You could've skipped that 9:00am. Or just been late. Don't think it would've mattered."

"Maybe." You shake your head. "M'not the best student. I'm blindingly… average. Just wanted it to be different, this year." 

Your voice crackles, leaves something in the air he can't quite name. Quiet, again, except this time it's thicker. Smoke, ash, rolling clouds of melancholy in the little front room. For once, he doesn't know what to say. 

You've got your head back on the sofa now, with a deep sigh. You look at the ceiling, and he's looking at you. It's the first time he's able to really study your features, trace the outline of your lips and sloping cheekbone. Your lashes, damp with little droplets of water, look crystalline in the light. Sparkling. Like the paintings depicted in the hefty book sat on his coffee table. He's read that one, twice , cover-to-cover in a fit of… insanity, maybe. He's not a man of frills and fancy, didn't really get it; nor why Gabi had given him the book in the first place. It felt like a filler piece, something to put on the little table and forget about, or to prop up a wooden leg. But that's not how his brother works, frustratingly convoluted. It's stupid, Miguel thought. Everything had to mean something , or what was it good for? 

But looking at you, here, like this ; it clicks. Reaching over for the book, he leans it against the flat of his thigh. And you see it in the corner of your eye, watching as he flicks through the pages. Filled with art, it's the kind of thing on a table in a model apartment: a space-filler in a false home. When you first came here, the starkness and severity of the space had stuck. To you, the book had only reinforced it. Who was Miguel? A serial killer for all you know, stocking fluff pieces and coffee table books; only pretending to be human.

Finally, he stops, finger over a specific place. A double page spread, of surprisingly good quality. 

He clicks his tongue. " This one. "

You follow his finger. A woman in a lake doesn't do it justice. It's beautiful, but it doesn't mean anything to you.

" Ophelia, John Everett Mills, 1852 ." He reads out the little label at the bottom of the image. "Like from Hamlet."

You shrug. "I don't…?"

"Well, she's in love with Hamlet, and then her father's murdered, Hamlet fucks off; and she's left heartbroken, goes mad because of it , arguably–" 

"I've taken tenth grade English, Miguel. I don't get what that has to do with anything."

"She drowns herself. Also arguably, to be fair," He chews his lip, thinking. "Slipped off the bark of a willow tree, into a brook. Incapable of her own distress, or something. Drowns. Do you know how horrible drowning feels? How violent? And yet–" 

He taps the page, and you come a little closer. Beautiful. She's beautiful. 

"I'll admit it, I'm not a big fan of Shakespeare. Gabi – my brother – is way better at this stuff than me. Drama and intrigue and–" He gestures vaguely. "– love . That's why he likes it, apparently. And I… I know someone who really liked this page; I think it was the colours, or the flowers…? She said it looked like a photo, and that the woman looked so pretty in the water."

He pauses, dead-eyed. He's rambling, only taking a breath to compose himself." I… didn't have the heart to tell her that Ophelia, in this painting, is dead. Dead as a fucking doornail. Dragged through still water, sentenced to death by her passivity and grief – but you wouldn't know it."

Unconsciously, you trace the outline of her hair with your finger; swirling locs that blend into muddy reflections. She's on her back and fully dressed; a beaded skirt billowing out into the water. On her back and looking up, like you were on the sofa just a moment ago. Oh. Oh . You blink at the image. Flowers, peppered around to frame Ophelia in her watery grave. It doesn't look like a grave from where you're sitting, but there's a body in the water all the same. 

There's a lump in your throat. Grief; the loss of 4 years of your life in a middling relationship, the aftermath of dead eyes and brilliant blue slashed from a canvas frame. Grief, rising to the surface like a bloated carcass. You thought you'd bound its ankles to cinder blocks and tossed it in a river long ago. 

"I'm probably overstepping. For that, I'm sorry, and I mean it. But I think there's something else. I..I hear you rattling around at night; and sometimes, when I look at you..." 

Your eyes are glassy, tears threatening to spill over. You’re hearing him but you don’t quite understand. Does he know? God, does he know?

"...it reminds me of this painting. You remind me of Ophelia .”

He sighs, turning to you.

“I know how it feels. And I think this shit is going to kill you, if you're not careful."

~~~

He doesn't talk about it. He runs off to start the shower, bundles you into towels and leaves you reeling. God, it's like you've been shot – barely a 10 minute conversation and he's cracked open your ribs to root around in what's left of you. He sees you; wades through the undergrowth and cuts through the bulllshit - he sees you. 

You couldn't even answer. That's what stings the most. 

You’ve settled on the sofa, cross-legged and still fresh from the shower. There’s a documentary on the TV; mindless background to Miguel clattering in the kitchen. He’s putting together some leftovers, even though you insisted that you weren’t hungry, that you’ve already eaten. Well , he had pointed to the gunk caked onto your laptop, wasn’t that the problem in the first place?

He’s good at it; wraps you up in the blanket you always keep draped on the cushions, and hands you a full plate. Wordlessly, because you suppose he’s said everything he needed to. Dutifully, he takes care of you, without a word; the strain of cutting you open on the coffee table clearly too much to bear.

You thank him, and he settles on the armchair opposite, mug of coffee in hand. The gloom of the TV bathes him in light, cuts his cheekbones and jaw just so. One of your mugs in his lap, and he's in a thick knitted sweater. His hair kisses the tops of his lashes, but he brushes it away. You swallow thickly, and when he turns, you look away.

“...You okay?” He asks, confused.

You nod, unable to speak. He gives you a small smile, the corners of his eyes crinkled up like crepe paper. You return it with one of your own. 

He sees you. Finally, you see him too.

_

_

_

Rigor Mortis Taglist: @bunnyrose01 @lavenderslemonade @tsukkie-daisuke @malxoxo @thekidscallmebosss @vvitcxen @theyoutubedork @doublevirgogirl @jnghs @taleiak @noblesavagex @cumikering @rebeccawinters @evanpetersrightbigtoe @saucypeanuttt @pix-stuff @maliarenee @truthuntolddd @honeycovered-bandaids @aiyaaayei @aeeliy @amplsblog @sikrettt @opuffmango @spear-bitch @maddielikesmoths @lemonpepsi @sweet-strawberryhoney @lacedinweb22 @bubbsby @jing5uan @ellaandorersoct @hibarbiesblog @valentxi @kittym1ka @delulu-dia @melovetitties @yohoe-hoe @acollectionofcells1 @froggi-mushroom @thund3rthighs

@bonthebunnie @natthernandez @strawberrymiguel @twwcs @mammonispunk @um-well @renn-pumkin-head @ietherealkistar @smallishbook @sonderspider @spear-bitch @cryingintheclubdhmu @mageneire @notdyl4n @slezhara @funkyfoxx0 @smol-beb @iceclaw101 @lixhizy @errorundyne-exe @707xn @beantokki@twentysomethingwereyote

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #kat_writes😼 #spiderman 2099 #angst #lots of angst #atsv x reader #miguel o'hara angst

[besuggestion]

(for anon 🥰)

One day, a girl notices her chest starts growing, and it won't stop - it seems the temporary solution is to milk herself every night, to get back to normal. Of course, she goes to the doctor to get it checked. The doctor is very confused, and requests a bottle of the milk in order to study it further.

So, that night she milks herself, pouring her milk into a bottle to save for the doctor. When she's done, she puts it in the fridge.

The next day, it's not there. When she asks her mom -

"Your sister took it with her as part of her lunch. Why?"

The girl is much too embarrassed to explain why, and simply decides to try again that night to get some of that milk to the doctor.

---

During her lunch break, the sister tries a little of the milk.

"This tastes weird. Do you think it's gone bad?"

One of her friends grabs the bottle.

"Let me try some. Huh. I don't know. It doesn't taste sour...?"

"What do you mean? Lemme have a taste!"

A group of five girls passes the bottle around, all of them tasting a little bit of the milk - except for one girl, who watches quietly. The girls notice, and shove the bottle towards her.

"Here, you try it, too!"

In the end, they decide to throw it away...but it was too late for that.

They get back to work, settle into their desks, but...

The sister realizes first. Something wasn't right. She felt a little hazy, and something warm was spreading from her stomach. She shrugs it off, but an hour later, the feeling is too intense for her to ignore. And...she now could say for certain that her chest was getting bigger. It was getting tight, and the buttons on her shirt were barely holding it in. And yet, it kept growing, getting slowly bigger, and bigger...

The last button was barely holding on. Before she could be exposed in front of everyone, the sister makes a dash for the restroom - only to see that all of her friends were already there.

"You, too?!" one asks, surprised. It seems as though all of them - well, it was obvious enough to tell that all of them had much bigger chests than before.

"It's...it's getting so big!" another whines, trying to press her tits back into the shirt. It stays for a moment, before popping out with more force than she anticipated, and a button pops off.

All of them go silent. They had never seen their friend like this before, but with her fat, juicy tits sticking out like this, and that cute, flustered expression on her face...

"Mmn!" the same girl moans, and they all watch as her chest grows, getting bigger, the nipples no longer being held back by the bra...

One girl, the one who usually didn't talk much, moves towards the exposed girl, wasting no time before grabbing her tits.

"Hyaa!" she moans, and...milk starts dribbling out.

"Oh, that looks tasty." the woman murmurs, before leaning in to suck on the woman's tits, drinking as much as she can.

The other girls don't know how to react. Their heads were spinning. Could something like this happen? Did that mean...milk would come from their breasts, too?

One girl takes off her shirt and starts milking herself, immediately loosing herself to pleasure. She moans, and the milk drips down, creating a puddle on the floor.

At that, it was like a switch had been flipped. All the girls start touching each other, pressing their milky breasts against other milky breasts, until their bodies were covered with milk, and their heads were filled with nothing but milk...

---

"Oh, there's another bottle of milk."

The next morning, the girl's mom noticed that they still had a bit more milk.

"Wonderful! This is just enough for me to make that cake for my book club!"

#breast expansion #lactation #drinking #corruption

[corroded-hellfire]

Jitters - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish story

Collaboration with my darling @munson-blurbs

Summary: It's the first day of school for the Munson children--ever for Eliza, but their dad is being the biggest baby of them all.

Note: With all the back-to-school excitement going on I thought, "What would Eddie be like when Eliza first starts school?" So, voila. As always, I am so thankful for all of you who read and have the loveliest things to say 💕

Words: 3.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

If someone were to take bets on which Munson is the most miserable on the first day of school, they might pick Ryan. Sixteen years old, starting his junior year, and seemingly irritated by every move someone makes. 

They might pick fourteen-year-old Luke, the Tasmanian Devil himself, constantly lamenting about how boring his teachers are. 

Or they might pick Eliza, no longer getting to be the big fish in the daycare’s small pond, but now a full-fledged preschooler—one who is not happy about getting up early. 

Any of these would be fine guesses. But they would also be dead wrong. 

“My babies are all grown up!” Eddie bemoans, watching Eliza slide a comically oversized Little Mermaid backpack over her tiny shoulders. He stares at his sons as they shove their feet into their new sneakers, conveniently ignoring the repeated warnings not to break their shoes. 

Ryan catches his dad looking at them and rolls his eyes. “Take a picture; it’ll last longer,” he quips, groaning when Eddie dashes into the bedroom to grab his camera. “Crap, I didn’t mean literally.”

“Swear jar!” Luke chirps, all-too excited to catch his big brother slipping up. 

“‘Crap’ isn’t a swear word, dumbass.”

“Another dollar in the swear jar!” Luke roars, nearly colliding with the wall as he darts away from Ryan before the elder boy can get his hands on him. 

You give the two boys a biting glare from across the room. If you can't keep them from using bad language all the time, they at least need to adhere to the rule when their little sister is in the room. Luckily, Eliza is currently admiring her new black Mary Jane shoes and was paying no mind to what was happening around her. 

Before Ryan and Luke can start bickering again, you herd them over to the side of the living room where the lighting is the best for pictures. 

“Come on, come on,” you say as you practically push them across the space. “Dad’s getting the camera, let’s get this show on the road.” 

Ryan groans and drops his head back in irritation. “Can’t you just take some of Eliza? You have enough of us.”

“We never have enough of you,” you tell him, moving towards him on instinct to press a kiss to the top of his head—only to come face to face with the reminder that he’s taller than you now. “Eliza, come on over here, baby girl.”

Eliza looks up from where she’s now inspecting the pink overall dress she’s wearing. Her two curly little pigtails bounce with every motion. She hikes up her green sparkly princess backpack as she skips towards you. She becomes derailed, however, when Eddie walks back into the room. Eliza diverts her attention and makes a not-quite-a-surprise attack on his legs.

“Rawr! Gotchu Daddy!”

“Oh no!” Eddie feigns, clasping the camera to his chest. “I guess I can’t take you to preschool then, huh? Such a shame.”

“Nice try,” you tell him. “She’s still going.” 

Eddie’s brows furrow together in another one of the little pouts he’s been giving you for the past few days. He thinks his baby girl is growing up too fast—does he think you don’t feel the same way? You just don’t show your emotions as expressively as your husband does. 

“She’s only three,” Eddie says about your daughter. “Shouldn’t we wait until she’s at least four?”

“She’ll be four next month, Eddie,” you remind him. “This is when she’s supposed to start preschool.” 

The sullen father has nothing to say in response to that, so he just looks down at the camera and fiddles with it, making sure there’s enough film and that it’s on the right settings. You take the opportunity to walk over towards Ryan.

“Was he this bad when Luke started school?” you ask in a hushed voice. 

Ryan considers it for a moment before shrugging. “In my childhood mind, no. But I also used to believe it when Dad told me I’d look like Popeye if I ate my spinach, so who knows?”

“I can only imagine how he was with you.” With a small smirk, you grab Ryan’s arms and give him a small shake from side to side. “His first born,” you coo in a sickeningly sweet tone. Ryan shoos you away from him, but you can see the smile on his face that he’s trying his damndest to hide. 

In the meantime, Luke grabs a Kleenex box from the kitchen counter, lowering onto bended knee and presenting it to Eddie. 

“A gift for thou, Sir Sobs-a-Lot,” he says, adopting an exaggerated British accent. 

Eddie thumps him on the back of the head, but takes a tissue regardless. 

“Wayne always said I’d be screwed if my kids were as weird as me,” he muses. 

“Dad,” Luke fake-whines, “don’t say that about Eliza!”

Eliza furrows her little eyebrows and makes a run for her brother, charging towards him like a provoked rhinoceros. 

Luke is quicker, though, and holds her prisoner against his chest with a menacing cackle.  

“Mean brother,” Eliza mumbles, face smushed against him. 

He grins triumphantly. “That’s why you love me so much.” He presses a big smacking kiss to her cheek and lets her go, gasping in feigned offense when she wipes it away and wanders back to Eddie.

“Time for school! Let’s gooooooo, Daddy!” She takes his hand and tugs him towards the door, equal parts eager and exasperated. 

Eddie obliges, but you can tell that this isn’t easy for him. “Why is she so eager to leave?” he asks you under his breath. “Ryan and Luke were practically wrapped around my ankles begging me to let them stay home.”

“I think she’s just excited to meet new friends and learn new things!” you say with a smile, trying to hold back your own tears. “Isn’t that right, Liza Bean?”

Eliza nods vigorously. “Luke says I get Play-Doh!”

“Remember,” Luke crouches down to tell her, “it’s important that you taste the Play-Doh before you use it.”

The comment earns him another thump to the head from Eddie. 

“Please don’t eat Play-Doh,” you beg your daughter. Or listen to anything Luke says, you silently add. 

“Yeah, just stick to your lunch,” Ryan offers, always the voice of reason. 

“Lots of fruits and veggies,” Luke jumps in. “Remember why?”

“SCURVY!” Eliza proudly shouts, beaming from ear to ear. 

Eddie exhales and rubs the bridge of his nose, at a total loss for words. “Can you crazy children just take the pictures so we can go?” he finally manages, patience sufficiently worn thin. 

“Sir, yes, sir!” the boys salute in unison. 

“Yes, sir!” Eliza chimes in, happy to emulate her big brothers. 

You take the camera from Eddie when you see his jaw clench. You’d been afraid of your daughter having a meltdown today, but you obviously should have been worrying about her dad. 

“Okay,” you say, nodding for them to arrange themselves in front of the wall for a picture, “all three of you, first.” 

Begrudgingly on the part of the teenagers, and happily on the part of the little girl exiting toddlerhood, they come together and manage to stand still while you grab a few shots of them.

“Now just Ryan, then Luke, then Liza,” you instruct. Ryan rolls his eyes as his two younger siblings step away from him.

“This is never going to end,” he mumbles. 

Figuring it’s just easier to ignore him, you get your pictures of Ryan before moving on to solo Luke and then Eliza. “Now get in there, Dad,” you tell Eddie, gesturing him over to join the kids.

The moment Eddie is within reaching distance of her, Eliza raises her tiny arms to her father and insists that he holds her in the picture. Eddie, unable to deny her anything as always, complies. 

“Just me and Daddy!” Eliza says.

“Eliza’s will be done,” you say before snapping one of just the pair of them.

“All right, all right,” Luke says, motioning for you to give him the camera. “You get in there, too. We’ve got a monumental day here. Another Munson in the school system.”

As you pose next to your daughter and husband, you see Ryan out of the corner of your eye. He leans in behind you and holds up two fingers as bunny ears behind Eliza’s head. His little sister didn’t see him, but she was going to get a kick out of that once you got the pictures developed. Luke also noticed the photobomber, so he takes another nicer picture. 

“We ready to go now?” Luke asks. “Big day for me too, ya know. Starting high school and all. No one’s all fussy over me and I bet it’s because I don’t have pigtails. Damn.”

Eddie claps Luke on the shoulder as you take the camera from your son. “Didn’t wanna make ya nervous, kid,” Eddie says. “Also, dollar in the swear jar.”

Luke scoffs and presses a hand to his chest. “Have I ever been nervous a day in my life?” 

“Well,” Ryan starts with a smug smile, “that depends if you count the time that you got paired up with Missy Collins for that science project.”

Luke’s face turns pink and his nostrils flare. You’re almost taken aback because you think this is the most flustered you’ve ever seen the usually cool and mischievous boy. Luke goes from standing perfectly still to lunging toward his older brother in milliseconds. 

Ryan just lets out a whooping laugh and dodges him by heading outside. Luke is hot on his tail.

Eliza looks up at you and shakes her head, little brown pigtails swaying with the motion. 

“Boys,” she says, an air of sophistication older than her three years in her tone. 

“Boys,” you agree, offering her your hand. Her little fingers slide into your own and you head out the front door behind the two teenagers. Eddie grabs his keys and follows his family out. 

The keys jingle in your husband’s hand, a nervous tic as he walks over to the car and unlocks it. The three kids pile into the back and Eliza and Luke bicker over buckling her car seat as you slip into the passenger’s side.

“Everyone have everything?” Eddie asks as soon as the arguing stops. “Backpacks? Lunches? Or lunch money?”

A chorus of “yes” comes from the backseat so Eddie starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, instantly wishing he could turn around and take everyone back home.

You, Eddie, and Eliza somehow arrive at the preschool on time, but not before your daughter had thoroughly embarrassed her brothers on the high school drop-off line. She’d begged Eddie to roll down her window so she could yell to them as they joined their friends. 

“Bye, Ryan! Bye, Lukie!” she’d shouted. “I love you!” 

You and Eddie thought it was hilarious. Luke and Ryan? Not so much. 

But now, your husband is a total wreck as Eliza marches full steam ahead towards the school’s doors. Truthfully, you’re almost as bad as he is, but you’re trying to keep it together—for Eliza’s sake and for Eddie’s. 

“You ready, Eliza?” You crouch down and place your hands on her shoulders. 

“Yep!” She nods, baby teeth on full display when she grins excitedly.  

Eddie narrows his eyes in disbelief. “Are you sure?” he asks, making you roll your eyes. 

“Yep!” Eliza repeats; thankfully, she’s oblivious to his inner turmoil. 

“You’re going to have a great time and make lots of new friends,” you tell her. 

“And I’ll be right here, ready to pick you up when it’s over,” Eddie adds as he crouches down next to you.

It takes all your strength not to roll your eyes again or elbow Eddie in the ribs.  

Eliza nods her head, little pigtails bouncing with the movement. She hikes her backpack up higher and gives you both another wide smile. 

“Ready to go in?” you ask. 

“Uh huh.”

You take her hand and she leads you into her new classroom, Eddie following along behind you. He’s quite literally dragging his feet, a human version of Eeyore the donkey. 

A teacher, not too much younger than you, comes up to greet you all. “Hi, everyone!” she chirps in a tone that signals over-caffeination. “Welcome to preschool! I’m Miss Riley, your teacher.”

For the first time this morning, Eliza seems hesitant. She looks up at you for approval and you nod your head at her. 

“I’m Eliza Marie Munson,” she announces, and you bite back a laugh at her formality. 

“It’s very nice to meet you, Eliza,” Miss Riley says. “You’ve got both Mommy and Daddy with you here today, huh?”

“Yep! Was just gonna be Daddy but then Mommy said she didn’t think he’d really take me here.” 

You squeeze your lips together as your daughter calls out your husband’s behavior; Eddie closes his eyes, a small smile appearing on his face. Both of you know (partially due to your experiences with Luke and Ryan when they were younger) that anything that went on in your house that Eliza knew about would be fair game to be shared with her whole class. 

“Well, I’m very glad you’re here,” Miss Riley replies, holding a hand out for a high-five that your daughter eagerly returns. “Would you like me to show you where your cubby is?”

“Okay!” Eliza turns around and waves to you and Eddie.  “Bye Mommy! Bye Daddy!”

“No hugs?” Eddie asks, a pout forming on his plush lips.

Eliza rolls her eyes as if this is the most unreasonable request she’s ever heard, but obliges. 

You give her a tight squeeze, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You’re gonna have an amazing day, baby girl,” you remind her. 

“I know, Mommy.”

Eddie’s hug can only be described as bone-crushing, with Eliza letting out a dramatic grunt as he holds her. 

“Eliza Munson, you are the smartest, bravest little girl I know,” he says, voice catching in his throat. “I want you to go out there and kick some a—butt,” he hurriedly amends, but not before earning a glare from you. 

“Most importantly, be nice,” you emphasize, hoping your advice trumps Eddie’s little half-time pep talk. 

“I will!” Eliza happily declares before following Miss Riley over to the cubbies.

Eddie looks back and forth from her to you. “That’s it?” he asks. “That’s all we get?”

“What did you want?” you ask as you slip your hand into your husband’s. “Want her to cry and beg you to take her back home?”

“Well, no.” At your disbelieving eyebrow raise Eddie shrugs and amends his statement. “Not entirely.”

“We got hugs and goodbyes,” you point out. “Ryan barely acknowledged us, and Luke gave you a Wet Willy. I think we should cut our losses.”

“I know,” Eddie says, letting out a defeated sigh.

You gently tug him in the direction of the door to exit. “She’ll be fine,” you reassure him with a whisper. “And she’ll be so excited to tell you all about it later.”

Eddie nods, and just as the two of you are about to walk out the door, something rams into Eddie’s legs. He looks down to see Eliza grinning up at him, little arms wrapped around his knees.  

“What’s up, Sweet Pea?” he asks, suddenly worried that something’s wrong. Was someone mean to her? Did she forget her lunch at home?

She jumps like a little jumping bean until she’s right in front of the two of you. 

“I love you!”

Your heart swells and the pressure of tears is heavy behind your eyes. There’s no way you can look at Eddie because clocking his emotion will absolutely send you over the edge. 

Eddie’s already tearing up though and has a bright smile on his face. “We love you too, Liza Bean,” he tells her. “So much.”

She giggles and you scoop her up in your arms. “We love you more than anything.”

You and Eddie press kisses to her cheeks at the same time, and Eddie blows a raspberry with his, making her giggle. 

Once you set her down, Eliza blows you both a kiss before skipping over to a table where a few kids are drawing, already settling in. 

Eddie wipes at his eyes as the two of you step out of the classroom and into the hall. “That’s what I wanted,” he admits with a tearful chuckle. 

You wrap your arms around one of Eddie’s and lay your head on his shoulder. “You okay?” you ask him.

“No.” He sighs when you press a reassuring kiss against his shoulder. “I’m just trying to keep it together for your sake,” he says.

At his words, you pull away to look at him, eyebrows raised. “This was you holding it together?” you ask. 

“Oh, this could’ve been way worse, babe.”

You chuckle as he slips his hand into yours, knowing that he’s likely telling the truth. 

The two of you take one last look inside the classroom and see Eliza talking and laughing with a little girl and boy at her table. 

“Come on,” you say, patting the back of Eddie’s hand with your free one. 

With a reluctant sigh, Eddie starts to walk with you towards the exit. 

“And I know Miss Riley is younger than me but don’t get any ideas.” You smirk and nudge his shoulder with your own, trying to joke around and cheer him up a bit.

Eddie puts his hands up in defense. “Hey, she’s a teacher. I only go for babysitters.”

The late summer morning is hot as you make the journey back to your car. Still the gentleman as always, Eddie opens your door for you. 

“Man,” he shakes his head as you slip into the passenger’s seat. “I can’t believe my baby is in preschool.” 

He closes your door and walks around to his side, giving you time to open your purse and pull out a small object, hiding it beneath your hands in your lap. He starts the car, though you’re fairly certain your heartbeat is louder than the engine. 

“Well,” you start before clearing your throat. Eddie looks over at you and there’s suddenly a million butterflies not only in your stomach, but throughout your whole body. “She’s not going to be the baby for long…”

You hand Eddie the test, watching as his expression shifts from sadness to confusion to awe as he stares at the two pink lines. 

“You’re pregnant?” The excitement in his voice rivals that of a kid on Christmas morning.

“I’m pregnant,” you confirm, grinning with your own excitement. The emotions that you've been trying to corral all day finally come out, relief and giddiness flowing through you as you tell your husband what you've been dying to amongst all the other chaos of the day.  

Eddie lunges across the center console to wrap you up in his arms, letting the positive test drop into his lap. “Holy shit, princess.”

“I know,” you say with a giggle.

Eddie’s still in shock, grinning from ear to ear and rubs his hands over his face. “We’re gonna have another baby,” he says, just to hear it aloud. 

“And just think,” you say, “you get to do this first day of preschool thing again.”

His nose wrinkles at that prospect. “Maybe I’ll just homeschool this one.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanart #AYW #AYWS #older!eddie