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gallusrostromegalus · 6 months

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The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

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I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

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If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

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As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

youtube

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

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So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

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If you enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Funny Stories book on Patreon

#Family Lore #Dogs #It's Halloween babey #friday the 13th #blood mention #I hope that kid had a good night and at least one of his friends believed him #Long post #Video

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daydadahlias · 1 year

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I mean, I know this is a long shot but have you thought about adding more fics to the “ask for more” series? I truly love those fics

I’m definitely not opposed to it, but I just don’t know what I would add! All the angst has been pretty resolved so I can’t think of what plot it would have other than just porn.

#I guess if I wrote more in the AFM universe I could go the route of #hiding their relationship from press and stuff #coming out maybe to the public #ofc they have a sex tape so leaked sex tape is always a possibility #but I’ve already done that y’know don’t wanna be a broken record #I love leaked sex tape fics tho sigh #literally one of my fave types of stories #theoretically All Yours takes place in the AFM universe but that’s a flaming dumpster fire so #pigeon #anon #thank you for the interest!!!#and I mean it you had an idea for what you would want to see in those fics I wouldn’t be opposed to thinking abt it #I’d have to reread the OG tho bc I’ll be honest #no clue what happens in AFM #I remember Duke sees a blowjob. they make a sex tape. Calum cries during sex #which is really the whole thing #there’s a lot of choking too isnt there

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merlin-wolfgang-trades-hale · 1 year

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None of my mutuals went hard for that character so I didn’t see him through their eyes, I didn’t get another perspective, I got what canon sold me and boy was he on the bargain sale of desperation. He is not blorbo, he isn’t a poor pathetic lil meow meow, he’s not baby girl... and so I still think he’s a piece of shit and I don’t like him in particular because he was a bully to my favorite son.

#fandom #I have theories for what might happen #i...it's going to be a dumpster fire~~~~~#i'm already pissed bc i'm sure the dates have changed and that means they had time to receive SOME fan reactions and thoughts #and I'm sure they didn't like it and are going to go out of their way to fuck the fans over who gave the most of a fuck #anyway God bless fan artist and fanfic writers #y'all are gonna be a godsend

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bella-goths-wife · 2 months

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Yandere Vees x platonic reader

Vox, velvette and Valentino x reader

Warnings: Valentino

Okay so you know how I move through stories so much because I hyperfixate on something and become obsessed with it? Well guess who watched the hazbin hotel show after watching the pilot episode years ago. And I saw so much yandere potential.

So let me know if you enjoy this and if I should make more.

You were quite a modern soul, with you dying around the 2010s

And you died quite young at the age of 18

So when you get to hell your pretty scared and confused, with no one around who could help you

So you did what you could to live, by surviving off scraps and sleeping rough on the streets

That also leads you into a life of crime as you relayed on robberies and mugging people to get enough cash to afford to eat for the week

But on day you make the grand mistake of trying to mug an overlord

Vox was simply trying to avoid paparazzi by going through the back alleys, that’s until he hears loud music out of no where

See, when you got to hell you were given your own special ability the same way the others had

Your ability was Turntablism

Which essentially means you could manipulate and create new sounds from your environment, similar to how a DJ can use turntables to manipulate and create new music from existing sounds

This means you could silence or enhance sounds around a demon and that you would be able to create a sound from the environment, such as loud music, and it would be able to discombobulate or entertain the demons around you

So you silenced your footsteps before surprising vox by blasting loud rave music to confuse him as you grabbed his wallet and phone before hightailing it out of there

Of course that doesn’t work, vox watches you through the phone as he decides how to deal with you

He sees you climb into your ‘home’ which is in fact a cardboard box built around a dumpster with a small pit outside of it for fires

You intrigued him for some reason and he thought there was no harm in watching you for a few days before he decided what to do with you

He watched how you used your ability to survive and how you were actually white street smart

Eventually, he came to a decision

He appeared to you and claimed that you owed him a debt for stealing his wallet, before offering you a job as his assistant with a room in the vee tower in exchange for you soul

You were extremely cautious of him so you denied his deal, until he points out the fact that you were a young homeless girl who had stolen from a well known celebrity who could easily have killed you

So you shake his hand and your soul is officially voxs

He stuck true to his word and gave you a small room near his in the vee tower, and even if it seemed small to him it was the biggest room you’d ever slept in before

Vox explained the daily tasks he wanted you to be able to complete while you worked there and explained how he wanted to combine his hypnosis with your ability to make it so that the voxtech jingles would be more persuasive and would make more buyers come in

You nodded your head with the doubt that it would work stuck in your mind, but vox owned your soul now and you had to do what he said

He eventually introduced you to his business partners, velvette and Valentino

Velvette could not give less of a shit about you and just barked her coffee order at you

Valentino on the other hand tried to offer you a job in his studio but vox warned him that your soul was already owned, so val settled on just pouting while ordering you to fetch him some lunch

You worked with them for a few months and it wasn’t all bad

Sure, they were all demanding people who would hurl abuse at you if you got something wrong, but vox provided you with food, shelter and clothes so you couldn’t complain really

They all grew accustomed to your presence, so much so that when you weren’t around they had the strange feeling of missing something from their daily routines

Being vox’s assistant was hard because it practically made you all of their assistant, because we all know the vees share everything

So some days you’d work closely with vox, and others you’d be in vals dressing room to assist him with scripts or choosing actors for certain projects (vox told val that you were too young to be in the studio, which you were eternally grateful for)

And other days you’d be with velvette as she scoffed for the millionth time at the fashion designers attempts to please her

Velvette liked having another young eye to look at the designs, she’d never admit that she respects your opinion in a million years though

Eventually after working for the vees for a few months, you held a reputation in the offices

You’d hear your bosses workers whisper the nickname ‘pet’ as you trailed after one of the vees with a schedule in hand

You hated it but you decided to just put up with it, it’s not like you had any authority to be able to do anything about it anymore

But the whispers of your coworkers reached the ears of your bosses and they all seemed to have a shocking reaction

When they sat down and talked about it, they realised that they do view you as more of a pet than a worker

And how they seemed to need you around in some capacity to be able to go about their days normally

That’s when their obsessions began

And you had a long, dark road ahead of you

This is probably trash 😭

But this is just a rough idea of what I’m trying to do so I have loads more ideas

Let me know if you’d be interested :)

#hazbin hotel x reader #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin spoilers #hazbin velvette #hazbin valentino #valentino x reader #vox x reader #velvette x reader #yandere vox x reader #yandere valentino #yandere velvette x reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel vees #hazbin hotel valentino

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deadghosy · 2 months

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HAZBIN HOTEL X CAELUS! READER

prompt: you were found digging in their trash and they took you in

(I got covid😭 so me posting xreader will be kinda slow)

You were digging for some food ever since you fell from heaven because you kept fighting people over trash…I mean damn reader…

You fell with a blank look as you had a rotten banana in your mouth as you looked down to see pentagram city…so what did you do? You pulled out your fire sword and slash the ground to soften your fall which worked. You changed it to a bat for protection as you found a dumpster!

CHA-CHING✨ MORE TRASHHHH

You dig in the dumpster not hearing a person whistling. The person dropped the garbage bag shocked to see a….? Whatever you are digging in the dumpster. Your face was completely dirty as you lift it up to show you found a cool old watch.

Charlie didn’t know what to do. Are you homeless? Is what she thought as she takes you out the garbage as you blankly stare at her “•_•” “uhm sweetie are you okay?” “……” “not much of a talker huh…” you just stayed quiet as Charlie introduced herself and shook your hand bringing you to the hotel so you can have a place to stay.

I feel like you were a new angel and only stayed for like 1 month…(free trial ass shit…) and so when you didn’t act holy and proper. That’s why you mostly got kicked out

Vaggie will know you are an angel because of your angelic look and golden eyes as you just stand there minding your business. You tell her you fell because you fought over your treasure….your trash practically. So Vaggie tells you what happened to her and you hugged her making her feel safe about herself a bit.

You two have matching bracelets you made from an exercise Charlie did.

Okay I headcannon that Lucifer is already in the hotel living with his daughter. And he felt your presence and he would be like. “Fuck are you doing here”🤨 “I fought for my life.”

Vox one time put you on air with him because of your golden shining eyes….i think he was flirting with you as you ate some gift cookies he made for you…

Velvette tried to make you a model, but you kept wandering off somehow. Literally she got tired of you but never of your face as she at least posted you wearing some nice 2000 makeup

Carmilla had a gut feeling about you being an angel. She wanted to kill you but then you gave her a ring you found in a dumpster because you said she reminded you of your earth mother/parent. Yeah she wanted to adopt you

You help sir Pentious, or who you call penny for his project builds. You dig in dumpster’s, trash bins, and garbage dumps

Angel dust and you sometimes just be on your phones all the time which is obnoxious. But hey, I don’t make the rules. Being on your phone makes it seem like you don’t want to be talked to which is true.

Lucifer made you a duck as he notciced how lonely you are….(you don’t give a fuck, you only need trash as your friends) so Lucifer made you 20 ducks that are based on your favorite things or like idk just ducks

The egg boiz follow you around as you literally calling you the, “TRASH BOSS!” Not in a bad way more like in admiration as you give them stuff from the garbage.

Your golden eyes shining in the night scaring husk as he didn’t even see you in his hind sight. Like he is a cat, but he didn’t even see you?!

You and alastor’s both eat weird things, like he is a cannibal….and for you..either trash or just normal weird food combos

Alastor would definitely try to get you to eat cannibal meat, but to be honest you can tell the difference between human and regular meat. You always know.

Niffty is the kind of person who would give you a trash flower crown, kinda like how she made a crown for Alastor ✨🦆

I headcannon your angelic/demon form to be a raccoon 💀

You send dumbass memes in the hazbin hotel gc…

You are quite the feral person tbh, but who didn’t know when you literally fought people for your damn trash.

You definitely had bit Valentino once as Angel dust brought you to a club and you were digging in trash to find something cool. But Valentino found you adorable in the face and wanted to make you a sex worker. And what did you do when he tried to hurt Angel?

YOU BIT HIS FUCKIN HAND ALMOST OFF AS ANGEL WAS TRYING TO PULL YOU OFF😭

Yeah..you definitely had blood dripping from your mouth when Angel dragged you out of the club

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clovdgyu · 4 months

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Punishment Time for Kitten - Alhaitham

#alhaitham x m!reader #smut, fluff #will be turning my stories into genshin hehe

#warnings: angry top!haitham, rough handling, overstimulation, bondage, spanking, degrading, car sex, kinky stuffs, slut shaming, kitten kink, master kink, m/n's a lying brat, pain kink, unprotected sex, MENTIONS OF DOM AND SUB

"Oh, yeah? Then what happened next?" One of your friends asked you, which you answered with a mocking smirk then scoffed as you crossed your arms and began to chuckle darkly, enticing your friends to listen carefully to each word you say. If there was anything they knew about you, it was that you don't show anyone mercy, not even teachers.

You stopped your small intro then looked into their eyes. "Bitch began to ask for more. Who knew such nerd could be such a slut for my dick?" You boasted out as you began to laugh loudly, along with your friends who laughed just as loud as you did which annoyed your other classmates. "But don't tell—"

Then, the door creaked open, indicating that someone had entered the classroom. It was the school's nerd, Alhaitham. If anyone asked who Alhaitham is, he is a scholar at your school and quite the perfectionist. Always deemed as a teacher's pet and an honor student.

Feeling your eyes on him, he fixed his glasses that were settled on the bridge of his nose. Per your story, everyone saw how his usually sleaked hair was tousled, and his neck evident with bright purple marks, small remnants from the events of last night. You could only stare at the older male in fear as you gulped.

"Oh, look. It's the nerd. M/N here was telling us about how you were fucked into oblivion."

Hearing this, Alhaitham stopped in his tracks and turned to look at you with a subtle glare, making you look back at your friends before you cleared your throat. "Y-Yeah. Dude, seriously. For a buff and strong guy, his moans were too high-pitched it had hurt my fucking ears," you lied, which only made the silver-haired male's glare to grow more serious. "I wasn't able to survive through it, so I stopped."

Alhaitham just stared at the group of friends and fixed his bag straps then let out a scoff. "Is that so?" Alhaitham stated as he held onto his bag's straps.

You looked at the taller male with an anxious look then nodded hesitantly, wanting to continue your 'top behavior' act. "What? Embarrassed that such person like me had gotten your virginity? Don't be embarrassed, slut. You were the one who were asking for my dick."

Almost everyone in the classroom had laughed as they all heard your statement, and by almost, I mean except for Alhaitham (who just stared daggers at you) and you (who was already quivering in fear but made it subtle). You didn't know what you had put yourself into.

Alhaitham looked away as he moved towards his desk and placed his notebook on top of it.

That whole day, Alhaitham was teased and badmouthed. They called him all sorts of nicknames such as cumslut, dick lover, attention whore, cum dumpster, and other names that students could ever think of.

While you were walking towards the school's exit, you avoided the silver-haired male at all costs, scared that he would kill you with his bare hands.

Just as you thought that you were finally in the clear, Alhaitham's car had stopped in front of you. You began to quiver in fear, scared of what's to come for you. Swallowing hard, you looked from side to side then looked at the car before sighing. You were about to run away but seems like Haitham knew what you were planning since he rolled the windows down. "Get. In. Now."

You entered the car without second-guessing, not wanting to anger Alhaitham more. Why you all ask? Well, you were the man's sub and had disobeyed his rules he had set between you two. One, being 'be respectful and obedient', which you failed to follow miserably, judging how pissed off Alhaitham was with you. You wanted to apologize but you knew angry Haitham was scary.

See, three days ago, you thought you had managed to wrap the man around your finger but the desired outcome became opposite. It was you who was now wrapped around his finger. "You've been a bad boy, kitten," he started which made you look down at your fingers.

Wanting to stay with your 'bad boy' aura, you just huffed as you looked outside the window. "You can't tell me what to do, Alhaitham," you said disrespectfully and rolled your eyes. "This is my body and I can do anything with it."

He groaned in annoyance as he started the engine and drove towards his house. You were already scared shitless but you didn't want Alhaitham to see that. "You know, I would've lessen the chances of punishing you but you've went out of the line."

Courageously, you just rolled your eyes and clicked your tongue at him. "Eat shit!"

The silver-haired male glared at you before looking back front. He cursed loudly as he had found yourselves stuck in traffic. He let out a loud honk and banged his hand on the stirring wheel. "Fuck shit! Get out the fucking way!"

You could only chuckle at his agony, which he heard, his blood boiling at your mocking voice. The months-older male wasn't having it so he groaned in pure annoyance and began unbuckling his pants, making you look at him with wide eyes. "What are you—"

"Strip." Alhaitham demanded you, which made you shake your head as you huffed. "Are you going to strip or strip?"

Without having any much of a choice, you whimpered as you hesitated, although doing as you were told when Alhaitham glared at you. Luckily, the car's windows were tinted. Finally stripping yourself off of your uniform, Haitham hummed in satisfaction as he looked at you, wearing a blue lacey bralette and panties. "I see. You wore it. Maybe, just maybe, I'll lessen the punishment," the other male stated as he roamed his hands around your sensitive body. "Fuck, can't wait 'til we get home."

You just looked away but was shocked when the other male had taken a handful of your (H/C) hair and gripped it tightly, guiding it towards his clothed cock. Alhaitham smirked as he moaned, humping his shielded member on your cheek. You just closed your eyes as you took in his manly scent. Fuck, this feels so good. You thought. Then, he pulled you back by your hair and tugged down his Calvin Klein boxers, which you didn't notice. So, when you gasped, he used that as an advantage to insert his whole dick inside your mouth, the tip of his member hitting the back of your throat.

"MMNGH!" You gagged as you were forced to take all of Alhaitham's dick who let out a shaky grunt as he let you stay in that position; your left cheek being scraped by his trimmed hair. Tears formed on the corner of your eyes as you placed one hand on the dominant's waist while the other on his thigh. You could feel his dick at the back of your throat and the latter didn't even give a fuck if you were struggling to breath.

"Who's the dick lover now, kitten?" Alhaitham teased as he bucked his hips, making you let out small choked moans as you, nevertheless, swallowed around his dick, tears streaming down your face at the constant gagging. You hollowed your cheeks as you used your tongue to swipe along the underside of the other's member. Alhaitham groaned as he caressed your cheek with his free hand. "Breathe through your nose, kitten."

You did as you were told before your hair was pulled back. You thought it was finally over but boy were you wrong when Alhaitham suddenly pushed your head back, taking him whole again inside your mouth with a loud 'gwark' that sent shivers down the other male's spine.

Your eyes twitched as you held his thighs tightly. "Mngh!"

By this point, your tears were already flowing down your cheeks continuously as Alhaitham used your mouth to pleasure himself. "F-Fuck kitten. Your mouth is so fuckin' amazing," he praised then lightly slapped your red cheeks. "Use your tongue, slut."

You nodded as you used your tongue, using it again to lap on the underside of Alhaitham's dick. Alhaitham loved how your tongue felt which made him moan in satisfaction. You were about to pull back when the other male loosened his grip on your hair, only to be pushed back down, making you gag. "Fucking bitch. Did I tell you to stop sucking?"

Alhaitham, angered, gripped your smooth hair tighter and fucked your face as if it were an onahole. You could only groan and let out choked moans as you began to sob, feeling your throat hurt. Alhaitham, with his other free hand, grabbed something from the back seat and pulled down the underwear you were wearing. "Now, this'll hurt but it's not like I care."

He chuckled with his deep voice as he inserted the whole 6-inch dildo into your hole, making you let out a surprised gasp but was muffled by Alhaitham's dick that was shoved down inside your throat. You began to sob at the pain and Alhaitham couldn't care less, although he did caress your ass cheeks to calm you down. Truth be told, you were actually liking the pain. No way. Do I have a pain kink? You thought as you continued to suck the heck out of the other man’s dick.

Finally, the cars had started moving making, Alhaitham let out a satisfied groan. "Fucking finally!"

Alhaitham placed his hand back to the stirring wheel and to the shift after telling you to not stop sucking his dick. He would groan once in a while every time you deepthroated him. "You're getting good at this, M/N. Tell me, have you been sucking off other guys' dicks off?"

You shook your head as you knelt on your seat and began slurping and sucking on the older male's dick like how Alhaitham taught you. "That's right. I should be the only one who get to see you like this. Got that, my little dick whore?"

You nodded as Alhaitham wiped some of your tears away with his left hand and, feeling the car stop, you were about to pull back but was pushed back down yet again and heard Alhaitham groan. "FUCK~!" Not seconds later, he cummed inside of your mouth, his semen travelling down your throat which you swallowed immediately albeit forced.

Alhaitham panted as he watched you suck him dry before you pulled his dick off your mouth with a pop, a string of saliva connecting your lips from his dick. He loved the sight and as much as he wanted to dwell on it, you two still have a lot of punishment to get to.

-----

"A-Alhaitham, please..n-no—AH! Mm—ah," you moaned as you clutched tighter on the ropes that restrained your hands from reaching your ass. You arched your back, curling your toes as you cum yet again for the 5th time that day with a loud whiney sound, the sound going straight to Alhaitham's dick.

"I'm pretty sure I heard wrong, but what did you say?" Alhaitham asked through gritted teeth as he turned the vibrator to its highest level, making you squirm on the bed as you began to sob at how you were being overstimulated, tears staining the blindfold that was placed on you.

"S-Sorry, master..I-I'm sorry..p-please no—AHH!" You let out a dragged-out moan as you felt Alhaitham insert another vibrator into your puckered hole. "W-Wait..hah.."

"Sure, wait. I know you like this—"

"Y-Yellow..m-master," you stated, making Alhaitham glare at you before rolling his eyes and sitting back on his chair with a 'tsk'. He stared at you intently, your mouth wide open as moans escaped your mouth, drool dripping down the corners of your lips, your erect member that was ready to blow, your naked body that glistened with sweat as you sobbed at the overstimulation. You keep telling Alhaitham to stop but you knew you still wanted to continue. “Green...”

Alhaitham took the other remote and turned it immediately to its highest level unexpectedly, making you let out a loud shriek as you held onto the headboard as if your life depended on it. Your eyes rolled back to the back of your head as your tongue lolled out of your mouth. Alhaitham watched as a bead of sweat dripped from your chin down to your neck, he chuckled deeply.

"You see, M/N. You could have escaped from being punished if only you had stopped when I arrived," Alhaitham stated as he stared at your sweaty naked body. He moved closer as he placed a hand on your erect member, making you let out a small gasp. "But instead, you decided to continue and even spoke back to me. What benefit will it give you, M/N? Enlighten me."

You were about to speak but Alhaitham took a hold of your dick and started to move his hand, jerking you off at a fast pace, making you squirm on the bed and to arch your back beautifully which the silver-haired male always loved to see. "AHH! M-Master..hmm.."

"You like that, slut? Want me to get this on video and spread this on the school's blog? Just to let everyone know who the whore is between the two of us," Alhaitham threatened as he felt you buck your hips on his hand that had stopped moving.

You shook your head frantically and let out a whine when Alhaitham removed his hand from your own member. "Wh-why..?" You asked as you looked around, but to no avail. The only thing you could see was pitch black and although it excites you that you couldn't see what's to happen next, it also scared you.

You have never been punished before and Alhaitham wasn't this rough, to be exact. He was always a gentle man that cared for you. Remind me never to get on his bad side again. You thought as you began to hiccup.

You heard shuffling from beside you, which made you shiver. Although, when you heard a leather belt making contact with skin, you immediately trembled in fear and tried to pull your restraints off. "M-Master, p-please...no s-spanking..h-hate it.."

"Then, you should've stopped earlier when you could have. You knew what was coming for you yet you disregarded it. Now, you have to face the consequences," Alhaitham stated as he untied the ropes on your hands. "If you dare try to escape, which you can't obviously, I might have to punish you more."

You gulped as you let out shaky breaths, whimpering when you were finally out of those restraints. You waited for Alhaitham's next move and began to fear the worst. "M-Master?"

"Turn around, pet," Alhaitham demanded you which you immediately followed. "What do you feel about 30?" He asked you as he laid your stomach onto his lap, caressing your smooth shaved ass with gentle hands.

"A-Anything's good," you answered, not wanting to anger Alhaitham. "P-Please b-be gentle.."

"You don't have a say in this, M/N. Be a good pet and take what you deserve," Alhaitham stated as he grabbed a ball gag and inserted two fingers into your mouth which you suck on like a lollipop. But, you choked when the older male pushed his fingers deeper into your throat unexpectedly.

You choked, making Alhaitham groan as he squeezed your thick thighs. He removed his finger from your mouth, momentarily playing with your tongue before removing it completely. His fingers were now coated in your own saliva, licking it clean with his own tongue.

"Open," Alhaitham instructed. You opened your mouth and felt the ball gag being placed into your mouth. You, on instinct, bit on the gag as you shakily held onto Alhaitham's hand, his other hand busy tying the gag. The other male smirked as he finally grabbed his belt and raised it, bringing it back down to slap your ass cheeks that jiggled. You bit on the ball gag as you let out muffled moans and held onto your master's arm for dear life.

"Hm. You keep telling them I was the the dick whore when it's obviously you. How many times have you released untouched, M/N?" Alhaitham asked you with a stern look, shakily raising six fingers before holding onto his arm again as he placed another slap onto your ass. "See? Just by having a vibrator up your slutty ass, you've cum six times already."

You whimpered as every harsh slap from Alhaitham's belt came in contact with your ass. "Oh fuck. I was enjoying seeing you squirm about, I lost count. I think I should restart the counting, hm, kitten?"

You immediately shook your head and held Alhaitham's arm in fear. You were talking yet it was muffled by the ball gag that was on your mouth, making Alhaitham laugh menacingly. He placed a tight grip on your hair and pulled it back, earning him a choked gasp from him. "What? You don't want to be spanked anymore?" He asked, ignoring your muffled pleas. "Too bad."

Alhaitham then raised the belt again and spanked the hell out of you, making you flinch every time the smooth leather made contact with your buttocks. The only thing you could do was sob as you accepted whatever your master gave you. "I'm not usually rough, M/N, but I was really hurt by what the other students said about me. Don't go making such rumors, again. Got it?"

You nodded again, finally heaving a sigh as you felt Alhaitham caress your ass soothingly. Then, you unexpectedly moaned when he inserted a finger into your hole without any warning. "Calm down, kitten. I'm just getting the vibrators out. Just by my fingers, you're already going crazy. What would happen if it were my dick?"

You groaned as you grinded yourself on the other's lap. You winced a little bit when you felt the vibrators exit your hole. Then, Alhaitham placed them on a wet cloth and gently removed you off his lap.

Finally, it's over. You thought as you laid down on the bed, sweaty and your hair disheveled. Alhaitham removed the ball gag on your mouth first before moving to your blindfold that was stained with tears.

You were about to speak but you were surprised when Alhaitham suddenly turned you on your stomach. "Wh-what are you d-doing?"

"What? I still haven't cum yet and I'm pretty sure this punishment is still not over," Alhaitham stated as he stripped himself off of his clothes, you subtly stared while he did so. He was finally in his naked glory and you could never get used to the fact that he was big. "Just looking at me like that makes me horny."

You looked away as you steadied yourself on your hands and knees. "Y'know, if you want to stop, you can alway say your safe word."

"I-I'm fine. J-Just get on with it," you answered as you blushed, not wanting to admit that you were indeed liking this side of Alhaitham.

"Alright. But remember, you asked for this," Alhaitham chuckled with his deep voice and got behind you, poking his erect dick's tip on your awaiting hole. You flinched and slowly looked back at Alhaitham.

"N-No prep? M-Master, I-I can't take—nngh!" You were cut off when Alhaitham pushed his tip inside your hole that immediately clenched onto him.

"Huh? Wasn't the vibrators and dildo enough? You say no but your body's speaking otherwise," Alhaitham stated as he slammed his whole length inside your tight hole which made you let out a choked gasp. "Shit, still fuckin' tight for master, huh, kitten?"

"AH! M-Master, y-your dick...i-it hurts.." You stated as you gripped the bedsheets tightly.

"It's supposed to. This is a punishment anyway," he stated but nonetheless slowed down to make you grow accustomed to his length, making you whine at how you could feel his entire length push in and out of you.

After giving Alhaitham a small nod of approval, he immediately thrusted into your ass at a fast pace, making you gasp. "GAHH! S-Slow down, m-master!"

"Remember, kitten. Color?" Alhaitham asked he stilled his thrusting inside you. With your head hung low, you sighed deeply. As much as you wanted to say 'yellow' or 'red', you didn't want Alhaitham to stop.

"G-Green," you answered.

"Attaboy, M/N. See? You love my cock so much you don't want me to stop. Fucking slut," Alhaitham said as he pulled his dick until his tip was the only thing inside before slamming back in, hitting your prostate dead on and hearing you shriek in pleasure. "What? You don't want your tight ass to feel empty? Well, be glad cause there's no way I ain't stopping."

You rolled your eyes in exasperation as you tried to keep your mind in the right state but you knew you couldn't. Then, without pulling out, Alhaitham turned you around and slammed his whole length into your hole which made you curl your toes, your legs now placed on top of Alhaitham's shoulders. You moaned louder as Alhaitham began to quicken his pace, every thrust hitting that bundle of nerves that made your length tingle. At this point, you could only see white and think of pleasure.

Only squelching sounds and sinful moans were heard from you two as you went at it the whole afternoon.

Alhaitham gritted his teeth as he fucked you at an even faster pace, making you cum the nth time that day. "N-No more..n-no..AHH! Alhaitham~" You dragged out as you rolled your tongue out, saliva dripping down your tongue as you threw your head back, toes curling at the pleasure.

Both of your stomachs were decorated with your cum while your insides were painted with Alhaitham's thick, white semen. Alhaitham growled as he leaned down to bite on your collar bone, making you yelp. Although, the pain was bearable.

He began sucking on your neck and chest, adding to the pleasure you were currently experiencing as Alhaitham continued to thrust deep into your velvety walls. You placed your hands on his smooth dyed hair and moaned loudly as you pulled him close. "Alhaitham..." you moaned as he hummed in satisfaction before pulling back and placed a hand on your throat, gripping it tightly, restricting your flow of air. You choked as you held onto Alhaitham's hand and began to moan loudly, although airy and breathy.

"Kitten, you're really being disrespectful," Alhaitham stated as he fucked you into oblivion and he knew for sure that you were probably not in the right state of mind currently as you came again. "Wow, you sure do have a lot of cum left in you."

"M-Masterr~"

Your hole clenched on Alhaitham's dick, making him groan as he tightened his grip on your throat which made you gasp. Alhaitham let out a few grunts as he thrusted inhumanely into your abused hole before releasing his semen inside of you for the fifth time that day with a groan.

Alhaitham thrusted a few more times to ride out his high and loosened his grip on your throat. He observed you and chuckled deeply, liking the fact how you were too lost in a haze. Alhaitham slowly pulled out, not wanting to hurt you. He watched as his thick seeds flowed out of your hole like a waterfall.

Then, Alhaitham stood back up and carried you to the bathroom, placing you on the water-filled bathtub before going on the bathtub. "M/N?"

You just hummed, still not in the right state of mind. "Let's take a bath," Alhaitham stated. You just nodded as you looked at the white ceiling through half-lidded eyes.

Then, Alhaitham held you closer to his chest and grabbed a cloth to wipe away the semen from your own bodies. Alhaitham hummed a happy tune as he did so. Several minutes later, you carefully held onto Alhaitham's muscular arms. "I-I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine, M/N," he answered as he stod up from the bathtub and grabbed some towels, drying yourselves. "I think I should be the one who's sorry. I might have gone too rough on you," Alhaitham said as he dried himself off and wrapped one on you then one on his waist.

"I deserved it. Besides, I liked it anyway. I-I kind of liked that side," you stated with a blush as you played with your fingers together. "Didn't know how good it felt to be totally dominated, especially by a nerd like you."

Alhaitham chuckled as he got some sweater and boxers for you to wear. The boxers had fit you perfectly but the sweater was still a bit oversized, reaching up until your thighs. "I never got the chance to kiss you."

"Duh. You were so caught up with fucking me, you totally forgot about it," you stated as you watched Alhaitham wear his sweatpants and only sweatpants, no undergarments, no nothing.

When Alhaitham settled himself on the bed, you straddled the other, grinding your ass on the other's flaccid cock, making the older groan as he rubbed his hands on your sides. "M/N, aren't you tired?"

"I am, but seeing you like this is making me horny again," you stated as you lunged towards Alhaitham's neck and began to bite and suck slowly, hickeys appearing one-by-one. Alhaitham moaned as he held your hips, grinding his, now, erect dick on your buttocks.

You both placed hickies on each other's chest, neck, and jaw. Finally, you two both laid down. Alhaitham grabbed your hands and traced the red marks that was evident on your wrists because of the rope. "Does it hurt?"

"A little bit, but it's okay. Nothing I can't handle," you answered as he let you hug him as you snuggled into the older's bare chest, tracing shapes and letters.

"I love you, M/N."

You widened your eyes before looking back up at Alhaitham who was already staring down at you. "What? M-Me?"

"Yeah..actually, even before we met three days ago," Alhaitham confessed bashfully, a red tint appearing on your cheeks.

"But I was a bad person. Why would you like me?" M/N asked with an angered tone.

"Do I need to have a reason? Just because you are, doesn't mean a person can never like you," Alhaitham stated as he hugged your form closer.

"Well...I mean, I'm still trying to like, like you so, help me," you stated and Alhaitham chuckled as he nodded eagerly. "Uhm...just by what I said, you're hard again?"

Alhaitham just shrugged then got on top of M/N. "Ready for another round?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

#male reader #x male reader #genshin impact #alhaitham x male reader #genshin impact x male reader #smut #fluff #cloudddd_hannn

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notquitecanon · 3 months

Text

Call Me... // Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You're the Devil of Hell's Kitchen's favorite late night nurse, but he's been avoiding your fire escape since an unfortunate accident. You both miss each other just enough for some emotions to slip through the cracks. You don't even know his name, but you'll settle just to know he's alright.

TW: blood, canon typical injuries, kind of hurt comfort, Matt's a self sabotaging martyr as usual, kinda sunshine!reader??? maybe if you squint

Bolded line is from a prompts list from several months ago so I lost the link. If it's yours let me know and I'll link it!

"I haven’t seen you in weeks… I’m worried you’re in another dumpster somewhere. Just call me back…please?" You whispered harshly into the phone’s receiver, burner cell jammed between your ear and shoulder as you fumbled with your keys.

It was true. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen hadn’t graced your apartment in weeks after three months of near nightly visits. At first it was serious stuff, stab wounds and splinted bones. It took two weeks for him to crack a joke. But once that stone cold exterior cracked, it was shattered. He was kind, sweet even. Every few visits, he’d bring by supplies to replenish your kit and, usually, with a bottle of wine in the bag. Emergencies turned to what he called ‘urgencies’- wounds just barely deep enough to justify stitches and dislocated joints. Which then turned into stopping by at the end of his nights for a ‘check up’, where he took advantage of your central heating, warm beverages, and warmer presence. Then, some Yakuza jackass appeared on your doorstep three weeks ago, fortunately your devil hadn’t been far behind. He took care of him, and you figured the thug, now minus fifteen teeth, would have a hard time telling anyone where to find you. Nevertheless, you found the ‘available apartments’ section of the newspaper taped to your seventh floor window. That had been the last night ’the devil’ had paid you a visit.

"Anyways… I guess I'm asking for a sign of life? Something? Please? Bye." You pleaded, voice kinder this time as you managed to finally unlock the door and slip inside. Locking the knob, deadbolt, chain, and newly installed jam that had been mysteriously delivered not too long ago. With a huff, you discarded your keys, and bag in the entry way before delving deeper into your dark apartment, flicking lights on as you went.

"You really need to start locking your windows." A deep voice sounded as you rounded the corned into your living room. Heart jumping to your throat and stomach dropping, you let out a yelp as instinct took over. The familiarity of the voice didn’t register as adrenaline flooded your system.

"SHIT!" You shrieked, flinching backwards so fast that the hallway runner rug caught under your feet, sending you careening into the wall. Without thinking, you put the Yankee’s starting pitcher to shame as you pitched your phone at light speed towards the voice. Of course, the shadow effortlessly caught it.

"Shit!" The intruder mirrored at your fall, and it was then that you realized who it was. As you collected yourself a slew of curses slipped out, looking into the dim living room to find the Devil of Hell’s kitchen slowly rising off the couch, he was already sans black shirt and mask, "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you."

"Yeah, well, mission failed." You muttered, pressing a hand to your chest as if that would still your pounding heart. Slowly, you finished your shuffled into the living room, flicking on the overheads as you went. "Shit, you could have called. Sit back down."

You could have used the heads up, the gash across his chest looked serious, and not in the cute excuse to see each other way ’serious’ had meant last month. He breathed a sarcastic laugh, tossing your phone back to you before producing a shattered burner cell with a… bullet hole?

"You have a funny way of saving my skin when I least expect it." He tried a cheeky smile. You rolled your eyes, picking up your pace as you retrieved your first aid kit from under your kitchen sink, "Consider this a sign of life?"

"A sign of barely alive, more like." You answered, rounding back around the couch to sit across from him. Harshly pulling on a pair of rubber gloves and splaying out an array of supplies both his lap and yours. "You’re unbelievable. Almost a month of no contact and then you just appear and leak blood on my couch."

"I’m sorry." He breathed, face angled to where your knees now touched. You rolled your eyes, ripping into a packet of gauze and setting to work dabbing the blood. And he sounded sorry, pitiful even, looked it to. His unseeing eyes stared straight past you and yet somehow straight through you at the same time, mouth settled in a puppy like frown. He told you once that he was catholic, and you now wandered if that’s why he was so good at looking guilty.

"If it wasn’t for the newspapers, I would have thought you were dead." You drove your point home, with a small voice, too angry to be a whisper and yet too concerned to be a hiss. The evidence of his activities was written across his bare torso in older cuts, new and fading bruises, and a couple of bandages that he’d obviously applied himself, "And you’ve obviously been busy."

"Figured out how the Yakuza found you. Handled it. Didn’t want to lead anyone else back here." His explanation was strained, pushed through gritted teeth as you applied antiseptic to the largest, freshest gash. You cooed small apologies, irritated as you were with the vigilante, you hated being the source of his pain. You picked up a suture kit, quickly threading the needle.

"Well, as far as excuses go, that’s not the worst." You muttered, half joking and half touched he’d go through this for you. You’d known he was a walking martyr from the moment you’d met him, but still. He’d taken the beatings so you’d sleep safe.

That was something else, "Lean back, gotta stitch you up."

He complied as you stood, using your shoulder to nudge the floor lamp so the light was better for you. Even then, you position on the coffee table wasn't cutting it as leaning forward cast a shadow over his chest. Neither was kneeling in front of him, as the gash was too far up his chest for your position to be adequate. You muttered a quick apology as you flitted around him, trying to find the best place to plant yourself. Beside him on the couch might work, but you’d be straining to hold yourself up at that angle and keep your hands steady.

Bloody-knuckled hands found your waist with amazing precision for a blind man, easily lifting you and placing you over one thigh after he spread his legs a bit wider. He held you steady, angling his eyes to the ceiling to give you the broadest view of his chest. One of your knees pressed into the couch cushion between his legs and the other pressed into the outside of his thigh, caging the his black-clad thigh between your own like a seat. If your weight bothered him, he gave no indication. He did however turn his ear ever so slightly towards you and smirk ever so devilishly, "How’s that?"

"Very convenient, thanks." You forced your voice to be flat instead of the breathlessness you felt. Stupid charming vigilante. To his credit, it gave you the perfect access without blocking the light. And if you got to feel ever twitch of his insanely muscular thigh between yours? Added benefit. The devil, even bruised and bleeding, was insanely warm and smelled like something out of a terribly sinful romance novel. The manly small of musk and sweat should have been revolting, but the way it mixed with a fading aftershave would have been distracting if you weren’t so focused on the drip of crimson down his toned abdomen. Before your train of thought could derail again, you gave a quiet warning watching your patient steel himself before you began running the needle and thread through the torn skin. Other than an initial hiss and the clenching of his fists against your waist, he went silent as you worked.

The two of you sat in an almost tense silence. He could feel how close your face was to his chest, the waves of breaths washing over his skin, the smell of shampoo in your hair faint enough to know you’d put off washing it, the sound of your heartbeat slowing back down after he’d gotten you excited, the slight sound of your teeth worrying the inside of your lip. He knew he shouldn't be here, Claire could have patched him up, probably would have if he asked really nicely. He probably could have if he really tried, but he’d just missed you. Between Fisk and the Hand and the law firm… everything was messy. You were still simple and sweet and far more caring than he thought he deserved, a balm just to be near you.

"Could you talk to me?" He asked, so quietly you almost missed it in your focus. You tied off another knot, seeing him wince.

"Hmm?" You hummed, pausing to look up from the half stitched wound. His eyes lowered to your face, his clenched hands at your waist loosening to rub the fabric of your shirt between his fingers. You always wore such soft things, he wondered if you’d be so soft underneath. You took opportunity in the pause to wipe some of the blood from his skin.

"I’ve missed your voice, even if you want to yell at me or be upset with me, just let me hear it." His voice was like a prayer, so sincere it made you shift on his leg. What was in the holy water at his church?

"I’m not going to yell at you, honey. I’m not going to kick a man when he’s stabbed." You shook your head, rearranging yourself to get that optimal view again, grazing a gloved finger over a purple bruise on his ribs, "Besides, someone beat me to it."

He chuckled at the lame joke, leaning his head back against the back of the couch again as you began stitching once more. Instead of scolding him, you caught him up on all the details and minor drama that he’d missed over the last few weeks. The funny things and annoyances from work, things your family had sent you, what your friends had been up to, your opinion on current happenings in the city. He listened to you like it was the most interesting thing he’d heard all year, chiming in with questions and quips of his own. You’d missed his voice too, not that you’d boost his ego by telling him that.

"There." You finally finished, tying the last stitch and taping a bandage over it. The vigilante under you didn’t make a move to leave, instead his hands kept you still on his lap. You breathed a laugh, moving on to everything else. You removed the old bandages, giving half healed wounds a thorough cleaning. You applied comical Disney bandaids to the more minor cuts on his hands and were even brazen enough to kiss his split knuckles. The vigilante seemed to preen under you attention as you cleaned and applied Vaseline to his busted lip. As if it was too good to be true, his lip twitched downwards as his eye brows furrowed. His face angled away from yours, his unseeing eyes falling on the window he’d come through.

"You know, the burner phone's been broken for two weeks now. Took the bullet not too long after the yakuza paid you a visit. Couldn't bring myself to throw it away, a little piece of you." He admitted, a pitiful smile twitched up before pulling downward again. He groaned, starting to shift you off his lap, “I shouldn’t be here, it’s not right.”

You allowed yourself to fall to the cushion beside him, but snatched the black shirt away from him before he could make a move for it. He’d been too busy letting his hands linger on your waist.

“Why not?” You asked sternly, tucking the shirt behind your back as if the vigilante in front of you couldn't probably drop you six ways to Tuesday if he wanted to. Not that he could ever consider raising a hand to you, “You got hurt, I patch you up. Seems right to me.”

The devil tensed, first leaning away and then leaning really close. His freshly bandaged fingers tapped your knee as if to emphasize his point, “I don’t deserve this kindness. And even if I did, if I could, if I was good, I would stop coming here so you could live in peace.”

You were a silent for a moment, wanting to make sure your response was exactly how you wanted it to come across.

“The third time you fell through my window, you told me that if I ever wanted to be left alone, all I’d need to do was change the candle I keep by the window.” You recounted his words. You hadn’t known about his senses at the time, he was still cryptic and mysterious. But you’d never changed the candle, buying new ones of the same scent when it would burn out, “You warned me what might happen. You gave me an out, one that I continuously chose to ignore. You did everything in your power to protect me when that choice had consequences. That was good, because you are good. And good people deserve kindness. You put too much on yourself, honey.”

As you spoke, you laid your hand over his on your knee, giving it a slight squeeze to convey your own point. The crimefighter listened to your voice, your heartbeat, the quickness of your breath, finding no deceit and even if he didn’t believe you words, it was nice to hear them. Your kindness washed over him, letting him relax for just a second before he shook his head, laughing sarcastically to deflect the dangerously sappy emotions you stirred. You called him honey like it was his name, and part of him wondered that if you knew his name if you would still call him honey.

“You barely know me, sweetheart.”

His own nickname slipped out by accident, usually just something he called you in his head when he allowed fantasies about telling you everything, coming home to you as the vigilante and the lawyer, seeing just how far your good grace could take him. His lips quirked up in time with the uptick of your pulse and the way your breath caught for a moment.

“I know enough to know you deserve some good.” You whispered earnestly, reaching up to graze the Star Wars bandaid you’d stuck across his the cut on his cheekbone. Almost instinctively, he leaned into the touch. You smiled softly, maybe you’d both missed each other a bit. The combined concern for the other and the time between his last visit making you both a little sappy, or at least more honest about it, So, you breathed a laugh, making another lame joke just to earn one of those chuckles you loved so much, “Besides, I know you well enough to have your blood on my hands.”

But he didn’t laugh, instead, he pulled his face from your palm, his own bandaged hands taking your bloodied gloved hands in his own. Gently, he pressed your hands together, your loose fists creating almost heart like shape as he pressed reverent kisses to each bloody hand. The vigilante was kind always, flirty and joking, occasionally flirtations bordering on something else. But this? This was different, it was new. Intimate. You’d almost feel like a voyeur for watching the scene if it you weren’t playing a starring role. Your mind flashed to those romance novels you’d thought of earlier, this put all of them to shame. So much so that your hands started trembling against his lips.

He held them tighter, but not in a constrictive, cage like way. More in a ‘let me hold you together’ kind of way before gently peeling the dirty gloves off and, again, kissing your clean hands underneath. His face angled to yours, nothing but sincerity lacing his features.

"You know my blood better than my own heart does.”

“God…” You whispered, letting your head fall against his shoulder, your nose nudging his collarbone and your eye lashes fluttering against his neck. His stubbled cheek fell to the crown of your head. You cleared your throat again, "I know your blood, but not your name. For someone I care so much about, that’s kind of sad.”

It was the first time you’d ever admitted it out loud in such certain words. The vigilante ran gentle hands up and down your arms, silent as a million thoughts went through his head. You heart was racing, not from lying, but in anticipation. Despite your racing pulse, you seemed almost totally at ease with you skin against his, one of your hands pressed to a bandage on his ribs and the other holding purchase at the waistline of his black pants. Nothing sexual, just the perfect place for your soft hand to land.

Despite the million thoughts, he really had two options. Keep his secret, and keep you at an arms length, to keep things sweet and simple and not too deep. Or. Let you in a little deeper, he'd swim oceans to keep you afloat. Enjoy your sweetness, even if things were complicated. He kept still, holding you as gently as you had touched him, a promise to himself that he could be gentle and soft, just as he could be lethal and ruthless. Two sides of a balanced scale.

Your heart had slowed down again, the soothing motion of his hands on your arm lulling you. You had been worried about his response. You’re confession had gotten too real, you were worried he’d jump out the window and disappear again. And you’d be left with nothing but bloody gloves and the thought that maybe you’d just imagined the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

"Matt.” His voice was quiet, just barely above a whisper, “You can call me Matt. Just don’t stop calling me."

#matt murdock x reader #Daredevil x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil x you #daredevil x female reader #matt murdock x y/n

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soldat-buck · 7 days

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i had a vision while making coffee this morning

bg3 culinary headcanons

- Shadowheart: absolute zero regard for contamination while cooking. kitchen habits of a permanent bachelor. licks the tasting spoon clean and keeps using it to cook. eats hot cocoa straight out of the container with a spoon. thinks pouring ranch over an entire head of lettuce and eating it like feral animal while holding it over the kitchen sink counts as "salad". if you can get past the contamination thing, the food she makes actually tastes pretty good, even if it's sometimes odd (she cooks like a stoner, despite being perfectly sober. she is just Like That).

- Astarion: perfectly capable of cooking, and actually can cook quite well. food may not taste the same after becoming a vampire, but his enhanced sense of smell tells him nearly everything he needs to know about how to season and cook food properly. he doesn't cook because he doesn't like to (washing dishes? by hand? no fucking thank you, being undead is harsh enough on the nails and skin. finding a good lotion for normal undead dryness is already impossible)

- Lae'zel: in the modern world, if her life took her in a chef direction, she'd be in a Michelin star restaurant as the world's best and most terrifying sous chef. she absolutely would throw a knife at you for fucking up her plating (she'd intentionally miss. the first time). no nonsense is ever tolerated in her kitchen, but that doesn't necessarily mean she's got temper issues (her coldness and lack of tantrums is what makes her terrifying). she'd put Gordon Ramsay in his place for his rage theatrics and then make him weep with joy after serving him the most competent omelet he's ever had in his life. if she likes you, you may address her as "Yes, Chef!" outside of the kitchen.

- Karlach: uses 4 pots to make ramen. not because she's doing anything fancy or elaborate with it, the first pot was too small and started boiling over (whoops). the second one was, oh hold on, that's a cast iron pan, maybe you're not supposed to use that for boiling liquids, huh? wait shit, can't use this one either, i'm not supposed to use metal spoons on nonstick, don't want to scratch it. There we go! this one is the right size! and if i scratch this one, it's fine! wait, where the fuck did the flavor packet go (you should definitely be concerned about leaving her alone for the weekend)

- Wyll: very resourceful cook due to his Blade of the Frontier days. can improvise a meal out of damn near anything. can identify every edible plant and mushroom and tell you how to use it in a dish. would carry an herb garden in his adventure pack if he could. would absolutely thrive on the show Chopped (he's actually banned from auditioning again because it's not fair to the other competitors to have him on). he could make you a dessert featuring rattlesnake and fresh picked clover, and you don't know how or why, but you actually like it

- Gale: approaches the kitchen the same way he approaches most things in his life - academically. knows the proper safe temperature to cook meats/etc to, knows how to brown an onion, knows what seasonings are typically used together for certain flavor profiles and how to match seasonings to proteins. knife work sucks because he uses mage hand for mise en place and his mage hand has shitty DEX, but he's scared of his chef knife from the one time he sliced his thumb open (he was cutting an onion with improper hand placement and the knife slipped)

- Minsc: would exclusively eat by dumpster diving if it weren't for Boo's disapproval. eats like a human garbage disposal. he will eat a n y t h i n g that fits in his mouth, he is the least picky eater you will ever meet. does not understand how food challenges in the show Fear Factor are supposed to be challenges

- Halsin: world class forager. very competent hunter. prefers to eat everything as raw as possible. understands but doesn't believe in strict food safety because obviously stomach acid kills germs (and anyway, a little dirt here and there never killed anyone; exposure to germs is good for your immune system). open-mouthed kissing him is gambling with your health. makes the best vegetarian salads but do not trust any chicken he has "cooked". people with weak CON might want to consider avoiding his food

- Jaheira: uses Talk to Animals to Cinderella/Ratatouille rodents in the kitchen. she commands them like she's in perilous battle and the entire world is at stake (also rodents are worse to direct than cats, they do not know the difference between left and right. there's a lot of "No! Not that cupboard, the other one! NO, the OTHER other one! Flank him, he's off balance!"). making a cup of tea is a convoluted, stressful process that takes 10 times longer than just boiling the damn water yourself

hey, i made an Absolute Edition addendum

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bunnyboysrus · 3 months

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Of Monsters and Omegas

I read this a/b/o thing a while ago, I don't even know who the original was by I can't find it again y-y

but it had a thing I'd never seen in a/b/o before, with an idea of an alpha, claim biting another alpha and turning them into an omega (talked to a friend and it turns out this is a thing that has been written about more than once, im just out of touch and its not even friday) and it was an amazing story, super well written, I just personally didn't like the ending cause I'm the #1 advocate for brat readers and not the biggest fan of crybabies or the total pheromone brainwashing that people write for omegas that make them do the complete opposite of what they would normally do, I'd like to think they have more resistance to the chemicals than that albeit at the cost of some physical and psychological pain. so im writing my own, thingy, with a different ending.

18+ Minors DNI - 6.3k words Content Warnings: stalking, obsession, death, fighting, violence, blood, torture(?), kidnapping, noncon touching, suggestive, gangs, some degradation, reader is referred to as 'princess' gender neutrally (im new to this so if theres anything i forgot pls let me know)

The heavy sounds of flesh hitting flesh echoed against the stone walls of the alleyway concealing the battered figures of the people fighting within it. One person lay dazed and immobile on the ground already, followed shortly by a second body, this one out cold before he even hit the ground. The last two fighters standing were locked in a desperate grapple, and despite having been beset upon by three assholes at once, the would-be victim who had been pulled into the alley on their way home from a long day of college classes gains the upper hand for the third and final time. Your muscles burn as you grunt and send the last assailant flying into the hard brick wall, one final crack ringing through the tight, dark space as they slide down the wall onto the dirty ground, right into an unfortunately placed puddle of dumpster juice. They leave a splatter of blood on the stone where the back of their head split on the stained grit.

Blood drips from the knuckles of the hand you run through the sweaty hair slicked to your forehead as you stoop and pick up your backpack from where it had been tossed to the side. You spot a wallet on the ground, knocked out of someone's pocket at some point during the fight, and pocket the cash from that too, for the inconvenience. These scumbags were lucky they weren't dead, yet, anyway. For this? They'd probably be killed within the week once you gave their ID's to your older sister.

You continue on your way back home, wiping the blood off your knuckles and face with the sleeve of your coat as you go.

Why those grunts had seemingly staked you out was beyond you, other than the obvious reason of being a member of their gang's most vicious and historied rival. Your family was a notorious one, a family business dealing mostly in drugs but with a few spare hands in money laundering and data gathering. You were fully aware that what your family did was illegal in a dozen different ways, but it was what you had grown up in, it was what paid for your lavish lifestyle, so who were you to be judgmental? Besides, to compromise within a morally gray area, you know your family prefers to keep things as bloodless as possible, less clean up and attention that way. As a fresh adult who was only in your second year of college however, you were ignorant to most of those details, and chose to be so. You understood why your family didn't want to involve you just yet, and you didn't care to dig into it, the longer you could go with less responsibilities, the better. So, for now, you were content to stay in the dark and live your carefree, well-funded life.

Of course, that didn't mean you were naive or anything. You know very well that you were in constant danger of being attacked or killed, even as you lived a perfectly normal college life. So, as any self-respecting alpha would, you worked out intensely and routinely, to the point of being intimidating even to other alphas. Running into a few punks here and there was nothing to you, even when they came in groups like they had today.

The remaining smears of blood on your knuckles have dried into a crust by the time you get home. Once you've kicked off your shoes at the door, you hide the gory evidence of your altercation in your coat pockets as you step into the living room of your family's manor. Your sisters, Nina, the youngest, and Esme, older than you but younger than your brothers, Leon and Silas, are sitting on the couch closest to the TV, a drama of some sort playing as they shared a bowl of strawberries. Nina beams at you from the couch.

"Hey! How was your day?"

Nina was still in high school, which in your opinion was way worse than college, so the fact that she still had the spunk and energy to greet you so enthusiastically warmed your heart. You smile back at her as you head for the stairs.

"It was pretty good, I finally finished that project so now I don't have to stay late at the library anymore."

"That's great! That means you'll be home early enough to watch Cats of Heaven with me!"

"I should have enough time for that, sure." You chuckle. You had no clue what that was, but if you had to guess, knowing your sister it was the newest silly cartoon that she had become infatuated with. At least she wasn't trying to get you to watch the insufferable dramas that she liked to watch with Leon and Esme, like what was on now, but you would never admit to your siblings how corny you thought those kinds of shows were. You could only hope Cats of Heaven was something more entertaining than the standard soap operas you'd observed.

"There's pizza in the kitchen." Esme calls to you as you start up the stairs.

Ah, so Leon isn't home yet. The oldest of your siblings was the one who normally cooked, more often than even your mother. You call back an acknowledgement before jogging up the stairs to your room. After cleaning yourself of the day's grime, and the blood of course, you change clothes and trot back downstairs, heading for the kitchen to obtain some of the aforementioned pizza. Getting past the group project you'd been working on for the past three months meant more free time after school for the immediate future, and you were all too keen to relax with your family, even if it meant slogging through a show that was potentially horrendous.

You pad back into the living room, already halfway through one of the five slices of cheesy divinity on your plate. You were just sitting down between Esme and Nina when the sound of keys in the front foyer made you all perk up.

"I thought they weren't coming back for another few days?" Esme voices the question on all of your minds, 'they' being your parents and oldest brother, who had left on a business trip a little under a week ago.

"Maybe they finished work early and wanted it to be a surprise." Nina suggests happily, as the sound of footsteps in the hallway grows closer. You're hit with a sudden wave of apprehension at the same time as Esme, both of you standing abruptly to move in front of your youngest sister as a crowd of strangers step into the room with shameless casualness. Leading them, is an imposing alpha man with ink black hair tied at the nape of his neck and burning red eyes so piercing it almost made you shiver to be caught in their gaze. Almost.

The only thing that overpowered the rising fear was anger.

You sprint directly for the leader, arm pulled back for a haymaker, but some beta grunt gets in your way and takes the blow. It's clear from the confidence with which he steps in that he was unprepared for the force behind the fist, and ends up on his face on the floor, dead to the world. The first swing immediately spurs the others into action, and they surge around their leader to subdue you. It turns out to be a much harder endeavor than any of them anticipate, even when one lackey throws themself onto your back to weigh down your movement, you move as though the weight wasn't there at all, ramming backwards and crushing the brave idiot and one other against the wall. You're about to make another lunge for the leader, who has so far been lounging in an insufferably smug manner against the wall, watching the fight but not bothering to get involved, when you hear a shrill scream behind you that stops you cold.

You turn back to see Nina trapped in the arms of a muscly thug, and Esme thrashing on the ground at her feet, held down by two others. Your rage surges and you move to attack their captors, but the momentary distraction caused by your little sister's distress is all the time that's needed for three more men to jump on you and drag you to the ground. It takes 5 people altogether to hold you down as you curse and struggle against their hold trying to reach your sisters.

The leader of the home invasion chuckles condescendingly as he finally moves from his spot against the wall and walks closer, kneeling down by your face, a tight smile on his face that holds no amusement.

"You're just as feisty as ever, second youngest. I've heard all about your track record in fights, your unbroken win streak was so intimidating that I thought for sure it'd take more than that to subdue you. I'm a little disappointed."

"Fuck you!!!" It's all you can manage to spit out amongst your fury and exhaustion; normally you'd be able to throw off even five people, at least enough to get an arm free to strike out, but you were already worn out from your earlier fight. That, and a literal glob of spit that lands splat dab against the side of the assault leader's nose; damn, so close to hitting him in the eye.

The room goes cold and still, the thugs surrounding you and your siblings seem to take in a collective breath of anxiety, looking nervously to their leader for his reaction. To their surprise, he simply stares down intensely at the struggling alpha on the floor as he wipes the spit off his cheek... and licks it off his thumb.

"Oh, are you sure that's smart? You might not care about your own compromised position... but you care about theirs, right?" He glances over to the men holding down your sisters and in response to an unspoken signal, they draw knives and hold them menacingly against their throats. Esme growls furiously, but Nina screams again in fear as tears pour down her cheeks.

"Stop! Stop it, don't terrorize them! You're here for me, right?! Then just take me outside and beat me to death if that's what you want but leave them alone!!!" You still sound enraged, but even you are aware of the fear that leaks into your voice.

"Aww, worried for your sisters? Me too." The faux amusement in the alpha leader's voice is gone now, replaced with a cold fury chilling enough to send a zing of worry into your spine. The leader grabs a fistful of your hair in a painfully tight grip as he pulls your head up, his other hand spinning a set of keys around his finger. Your blood runs cold when you zero in on the plastic pink dolphin hanging on the ring.

Those are your mother's keys.

"You seem to think I'm here because you put a few grunts into the hospital. You're mistaken." The alpha tilts his head as his eyes pierce into yours, searching, but for what, you don't know. "You aren't aware of what your brother's been up to, are you?"

"You'll have to be more specific; I have two." You huff, trying not to stare too obviously at the dolphin, trying desperately not to think of what it might mean of your mother's fate for this asshole to be holding those keys.

"Silas." The alpha says icily, speaking the name like a curse.

Warily, you shake your head, the clawed grip on your head barely allowing the movement. "No, I'm not aware of anything my brothers and parents are involved in."

"That's unfortunate... But I'm already aware of that. It's cute, honestly, did they think leaving you out of the loop would keep you safe and uninvolved?" He gives your hair a sharp tug, eliciting a hiss from the fuming alpha. "All it did was make you the perfect tool for revenge."

"What the fuck are you even talking about you piece of shi-" The leader slams your face into the ground, and although the floor is carpeted, it only buffers the brunt force so much. When the leader lifts your head back up, your nose is dripping blood.

"I'm talking now. Unless you want me to kill your sisters in front of you, you'll shut the fuck up and listen like a good little bitch."

A growl rumbles through you which is met with another face first kiss into the floor, but the alpha doesn't signal anything to the thugs holding your sisters.

"Listen well, as I won't repeat myself. Silas kidnapped my sister, and I can only assume he claimed her. That, or he killed her, but I doubt it. Your mother was helping him to keep them both hidden, and to her credit she refused to sell him out, no matter how much we hurt her." The spinning of the keys stops abruptly as the leader catches them in his palm before dangling them in front of you. "I guess she didn't stop to think about what that choice might mean for her other children, left so innocent and unaware at home, alone. Maybe she had a favorite?"

Your blood runs cold as you take in the intruder's words. You had never been particularly close with Silas, hell, none of your siblings were. He had always been very distant with his siblings, while the rest of you went on to be incredibly close with one another, leaving Silas as the odd one out. That wasn't to say you hadn't all at some point tried to get closer with him, he had simply always made it clear he had no interest. This was probably also fueled by the coddling you had all observed from your mother; Silas had always been her golden boy, incapable of wrongdoing.

"I had no idea... None of us did." You can only hope the sincerity is clear in your voice and face; you genuinely had no idea your brother had done such a thing or was even capable of doing such. If the kidnapping was fueled by anything other than the feud between your families... The thought made you sick.

The leader considers your words, his chilling gaze never wavering in the slightest from yours.

"I believe you. From what I gather, based on what we were able to discern from the phone we took from your mother, she and he were the only ones in on it."

Your relief is short lived when a cruel, mirthless smirk creeps over the leader's face. There's a sudden sting in the side of your neck, you barely have time to register the pinch of pain before darkness rushes into your vision from all sides.

"However... That doesn't alleviate you of the consequences."

A sudden splash of cold drags you unwillingly out of the darkness. You open your eyes, gasping, taking in the dirty, gray stone, the puddle surrounding you; you're no longer in your living room. You now find yourself somewhere dark and cemented on all sides, the cold dampness pervading the space the kind that only comes from being underground. The only illumination comes from a single bare bulb swinging on a frayed wire over your head, the light it casts only making the space feel more unnerving.

Looming over you, face cast eerily in the darkness clumping up around the edges of the bulb's dingy light, is the leader of the home invasion. His red eyes are black in the shadow, but still alight with something cruel and mocking. He has a bucket in his hand, empty save for the last few drops of water clinging to the lip, the rest of it covering you.

"Good morning, princess. Sleep well?"

It's just the two of you, alone. No guards, no thugs, no sign of your sisters. You process this information a split second before you register the weight clamped down around your arms and waist, metal rattling loudly through the small space when you try to lunge for him, only to be stopped short by a chain attached to the wall behind you. You twist your arms violently, feeling the bite of handcuffs digging into your wrists, chains pulling taught where they're wrapped around your waist. Your captor laughs at your efforts.

It's when you growl in response to the taunting laughter that you feel more metal on your face. A muzzle. You can't suppress the fury thrashing around in your chest like a wild animal, growing more and more violent the more humiliation is piled on. The abduction, the laughter, the restraints, the muzzle. You kick and pull and yank and spit and snarl, don't stop even when the metal bites and blood makes your skin slippery against the cuffs.

"Aww, throwing a tantrum now? Cute." The words are barely enough warning before you're shoved onto your back, arms grinding painfully between the restrains and the dirty floor.

Your captor straddles you, his weight keeping your body pressed flat to the ground while one hand settles into the curve of your throat and squeezes. His palm presses lightly into your airway at the same time that his thumb rubs slow, pensive circles in the dip between your neck and collar. You shiver apprehensively when it brushes over the scent gland in your neck.

"I already told you I don't know where your sister is. Fucking kill me already so you can get even, just don't hurt my sisters. They're not involved!"

"Second time you've asked me to kill you... you seem quite keen on it." He smirks. "Unfortunately, you're all involved by virtue of simply being a part of that family. I know none of you are stupid enough to be completely ignorant to your family's doings."

Another growl bubbles up in your throat, only to be choked into silence when your captor tightens his grip around your neck.

"You know, I've thought for a while now that the older you've gotten, the less happy you've looked. The worst time, was right after your high school graduation, it was like the last of your light had left your eyes." His smile softens into something pitying, bordering on sympathetic even, but all you feel is chills running up and down your spine. "You always used to be so carefree, and spirited, it was crushing to see you looking so worn down and sad. It took me a while to realize what was killing the happy you I love so much."

The hands around your neck loosen as the leader leans down, hips shifting against your crotch as he moves, completely unbothered by the water soaking into his pants. He brings his face to your ear, lips grazing against the shell of it.

"Don't you think trying so hard to posture around like a big tough alpha is exhausting? I know it is, I know intimately the sort of shit we go through to come out on top as the strongest, the worthiest... But that struggle never suited you, did it? You've always seemed too sweet for it to me, more like an omega than an alpha."

You can't help but take the opportunity to thrust your head forward and slam it into your captor's face, forcing him back into his upright position. Ignoring the stalker shit this guy was just babbling was difficult, but you decided to skip it for now since honestly you didn't really wanna hear the details...

"You've gotta be shitting me, I've sent hundreds of you losers to the hospital and the grave since I was a middle schooler. If you're seriously trying to compare me to an omega, then I know you're full of it and just trying to piss me off."

He raises an eyebrow, surprisingly not retaliating against the bonk to his head, not yet at least.

"So, what would you call the manicures you get monthly with your sister?"

"I call that self-care and spending time with my sister. Fighting off all your fuckin' grunts wears my hands out and I'm not fond of scars. I deserve a relaxing hand massage for the trouble of beating your thugs up every week."

"And the mall trips where you spend hundreds on clothes which you follow up with a trip to that quaint little bakery where you always get a strawberry cream cake? That doesn't strike you as omega-ish?"

"Go to hell. For one thing, it's insanely creepy that you know all that, and for another, you're stereotyping like a motherfucker. Alphas aren't all meatheads that do nothing but eat raw steak, jerk off and work out, and all omegas aren't valley preps that do nothing but shop and primp. People who think like you are what's wrong with society."

The leader's deep red eyes stare intensely into your face for an eerily long moment before the corners of his lips twitch. At first its imperceptible, and while he clearly fights to keep a straight face, he can't keep down the chuckles bubbling out of his throat for long. He throws his head back in a burst of full body laughter, the least cruel sound he's made since you met him. When he finally manages to calm himself, the leader beams down at you as he wipes a tear out of his eye.

"My god... You're so fucking cute. Do you even hear yourself? You're only proving my point. You're meant to be pampered and taken care of, sheltered and safe from petty street fights and laborious expectations of strength and intimidation. You look so much cuter and happier getting your nails done than you do working out and swaggering around trying to be impressive and domineering."

This conversation had already been creepy since it started, but this was starting to genuinely unnerve you. You try to lean your head further away from the alpha on top of you, but he grabs the front of your muzzle, dragging you closer.

"Don't run away now tough guy. I thought a big bad alpha like you wasn't scared. How's it feel to be the one on bottom? Feeling threatened by the idea of someone putting you in your place? Scared?" He drags his tongue across the thin bars of the muzzle, his breath ghosting over your lips.

"What do you want from me?" You finally manage to ask, despite the tightness in your throat. As much as you expect to dread the answer, you can't stand any more of the back and forth while you wait in suspense for torture, for death, for something. Something other than whatever it is about this whole exchange that is making this guy so rock hard. You're trying to ignore it but, you've been feeling the unmistakable prod of this weirdo's boner against your crotch for almost the whole time you've been speaking.

"Still waiting on me to kill you? Knowing how proud you are, I bet you'd prefer death over what I have planned for you." The freak on top of you chuckles, his voice lowering to a husk as he leans down and nuzzles his nose into the crook between your neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply. "You smell so sweet even now, for an alpha...~ You'll smell even better soon."

Before you can ask what the hell he's talking about, you feel a kitten lick against your neck that makes you freeze. It's light at first, but quickly turns into broad strokes of his tongue and open mouth kisses from shoulder to jaw, wet and insistent.

No way. Nowaynowaynowaynoway. Obviously, no one is incapable of being sexually assaulted but it rarely ever happened to alphas, they weren't exactly the cute, easy targets creeps normally went for. It had never even been a passing concern for you up until now.

"Hey! Are you fucking-gh...!" You choke on your words when a sharp sting pulses through your neck. A heartbeat later, a deep and agonizing burning sensation starts to spread through your veins, up into your head where the white-hot burn is so blaring that it clouds your vision with spots, and down into your chest where your heart starts pounding against your ribs like it's trying to claw its way out. You can only gasp soundlessly as pain like you've never experienced rips through you, tearing screams from your lungs that die before they can even leave your throat, coming out only as gasping whimpers. It's after you feel a second bite and the pain is redoubled that you finally manage to shriek out loud, a sound so visceral and so unlike any sound or scream you've ever made that it doesn't even sound like you.

When he bites into your scent gland for a third time, the pressure building behind your eyes from the pain and the lightheadedness of screaming without pause for breath snaps. You can feel yourself losing consciousness again, and this time you couldn't be more grateful for it.

Your return to the waking world is much slower this time. Whereas before you were yanked out of the darkness with a splash of cold water, this time you find yourself wading through it, a lake of sludge thicker than cold syrup, and it was just as sticky and unpleasant as you imagine such a thing would be. Despite what feels like physical pounds of exhaustion weighing them down, you manage to drag your eyes open.

You feel cold and damp all over, a fresh drop of sweat rolling down your neck. A full body ache that sinks deep into your bones covers you; you feel like you're made of glass, fragile, weak and sore.

A strip of dim, greyed light is shining on the ceiling over your head; its all you can focus on as your awareness swims to the surface and clambers out of the heavy lake still trying to drag it down. You shift and lift one of your arms out from under the thick blanket covering you and notice gauze wrapped around your wrist. A small, delicate gasp to your side makes you turn your head. Nina is sitting in a chair by your bedside, clutching your other hand tightly between hers.

"You're awake! Y-You were sleeping so long I thought you'd never..." She sniffles, holding your hand to her cheek as hot tears drip onto your wrist. You slowly turn your hand to press your palm against her cheek, smiling softly.

"It's okay Nina, I'm alive, it's alright." Your voice is barely more than a croak, scratching painfully out of your throat. Nina grabs a cup of water from a bedside table and gently helps you take a few sips. When you've managed to drain the whole cup, you lay back in the bed with a wearied sigh.

"What happened? I thought for sure I was dying, I..." You trail off, thinking back to the odd conversation you'd had with the alpha who had led your home's invasion. Your head is pounding, and you feel so weak, like you're just waking up from the worst part of a flu, still feeling traces of a fever in the heat trapped in your blankets and the sweat clinging to your skin. A growl from the window pulls your attention away from your condition.

"That motherfucker... He did something to you." Esme is leaning against the frame of the large window casting the gray light over the ceiling a few feet away from where you and Nina are sitting, a cigarette crushed in half in her hand. You can't help but be faintly alarmed at the sight of it; Nina had expressly forbidden Esme from smoking, and she hadn't been caught with a cigarette in over a year. To see her with one in front of Nina, and for Nina to not be making any fuss over it, means something is seriously wrong. A distant rumble punctuates the tense silence that falls over you all, and you notice that the slim strip of sky visible through the partially parted curtains over the window is blotted out with storm gray.

"Did what to me?" You press. Your sisters exchange a look that is far too loaded to discern anything from other than Nina's palpable concern and Esme's frustration. You quickly get tired of waiting for one of them to tell you what is going on.

"Will one of you please tell me what is making you both look at me like I've caught some kind of fatal disease?" You huff, anxiety bleeding into your words. Nina glances one more time to Esme, who adamantly refuses to look away from the window as she throws down her ruined cigarette and retrieves a new one.

"You... Er, well you were... claimed. By Emil." Nina says quietly, staring down at her hands in her lap rather than you.

You stare at her blankly. What she's saying makes sense objectively, but you can't make sense of what it could have to do with you. Claiming was something exclusively done between alphas and omegas. You almost want to laugh and call it absurd, when you remember the sharp, burning pain of something piercing your neck. You shiver as you recall that the pain had been sourced in the same area as your scent gland. Your hand slowly, shakily, reaches up to press two probing fingers to your neck. Pain pulses faintly through you again when the tips of your fingers find gauze wrapped around it.

The weakness pervading your entire body, the nervousness underlying all of the other emotions swirling in your gut, the foreign sensation settled in your lower abdomen... Somehow, you know instinctively what it all means before your sister even says it.

"He bitched you. You're an omega now." Esme's voice has dropped to a low, hard to hear octave. You almost want to believe you imagined what you just heard, but you know deep down that what she says is true. The despair must show on your face, as Nina grabs your hand again, squeezing it tightly between both of hers.

"I-It'll be okay...! Emil is actually very nice, and he's genuinely-" She's cut off by the sharp slam of Esme's fist against the wall.

"Bullshit! Don't even start Nina. He bitched you and he expects you to roll over and be happy about it, but I say fuck that!" She snarls, her new cigarette meeting the same fate as its predecessor as she crushes it in her fist and throws it to the ground. "He's gone on and on at us trying to prove that this is all somehow what's best for you, but he just sounds deranged! He's a sick, obsessive freak, and he wants you to-!"

The sound of a door opening stops her short, and all three siblings jerk around to look at the newcomer entering through the door on the far side of the room from the bed. A woman in scrub pants and a sweater glowers down at all three siblings, looking supremely exhausted.

"You two, you were told you would only be allowed in if you didn't cause trouble. Are you distressing the patient right after they wake up?" She asks in a cold, droning voice.

Nina and Esme exchange defeated, worried glances before Nina speaks up.

"N-No ma'am, we weren't trying to be disruptive we were just-"

"Overwhelming someone coming out of a physically taxing ordeal that left them comatose for almost two weeks." She interjects dryly. "Come on, visitation's over, both of you out."

You expect your sisters to argue, to tell her off for expecting them to leave you alone and insist on staying with you, but to your shock your sisters resignedly stand up and head for the door. Once they've both shuffled out, the nurse (?) shuts the door behind them and trudges over to you. You flinch away from her touch, but she grabs you in firm but gentle hands, holding you still as she looks you over.

"I expected you to stay out for a few more days, but you're one tough little cookie. How are you feeling?"

Bewildered but too shell shocked to question, you answer the questions she asks you as she goes about taking your temperature and blood pressure. One impromptu physical later, she steps away from your bed with a satisfied nod.

"Alright, it looks like your recovery is progressing better than expected. You'll probably be up and about like nothing happened within a few days." You listen to her ramble about your condition before you can bring yourself to ask.

"What happened to me? Is... Is what my sister said true? Am I an omega?"

The nurse goes silent. The pitying look she gives you is all the confirmation you need.

"You should go back to sleep for now. Your body probably still feels very weak. Food will be brought to you shortly but try not to stress yourself out in the meantime." It's all she says before she hurries to the door, shutting your questions down with a firm slam. You scramble to your feet, swaying violently as soon as you try to stand. You power through it, holding down a lurching sensation akin to being on the verge of throwing up as you stagger to the door and wrench at the knob. Locked.

Fear and worry overtake you as you start slamming your hands and body into the door, though what you're trying to accomplish, not even you know. You're too weak to even stand, let alone break down a door, and before long, cold rushes into your limbs and you find yourself sliding down onto the floor, trembling and barely keeping down the bile crawling up your throat. You curl up into a ball and close your eyes.

When you awake for the third time, you don't feel nearly as ill. The ache in your limbs is still there, a mild constant, but it doesn't feel as debilitating as it did before. As you are in the middle of waking, you feel a cool hand brushing through your hair, and smell a sweet scent around you that puts you at ease. You can't help but lean your face into the hand petting you as your eyes slowly open. Snuggled against you, both arms wrapped securely around you... is that fucking freak.

You jerk away from the home invasion leader's hand, pulling him out of what looks like a deep reverie as you scramble to the side of the bed farthest from him. He smiles at you in amusement as he sits up, leaning his cheek against a fist propped on his knee.

"Good morning, princess. How are you feeling?"

You rub your hand over your neck, now free of gauze, feeling the bite marks in your skin in hyper-detail.

"You fucking... y-you, what did you do...?!" You demand, your voice a slightly higher pitch than you recall it being and shaking.

He chuckles like this was exactly what he was expecting, looking at you with a coy condescension that makes your skin crawl.

"I helped you; the first step to setting up our beautiful romance was making you an omega so I could care for you without any power struggles getting in the way. I'm not saying I look down on alphas having relationships with other alphas, but it just wasn't for me." His grin broadens as he crawls closer to you, closing the distance you'd put between you. You try to back up further, but he corners you against the headboard, arms caging you in on either side. He leans his head down, you shrink into yourself as he does but its not far enough, and his cheek brushes yours as he licks up the side of your neck. When his tongue glides over the bites on your neck, a shudder runs through you unbidden. A sudden rush of wetness between your legs shocks you to a frozen standstill. The freak looming over you takes a deep inhale, shuddering in ecstasy.

"I was right... You smell so much sweeter like this!" He presses against you, one knee parting your legs as one of his hands rubs the burning heat between your thighs. You reach to grab his wrist and pull it away, but his free hand catches yours and holds it down. The uncomfortable wetness gets worse as a heat purrs through your core, goaded by his touching.

You feel a foreign sensation crawling through your brain, sickeningly warm and disorienting. It urges you to pull your hands away, spread yourself open willingly before the alpha in front of you. It promises bliss in submission, ecstasy in relinquishing control to someone bigger and stronger than you, someone who could protect and ravish you-

A jolt runs through you as your captor's hand drifts up to dip underneath the waistband of your pants, his face lifting up from your neck to direct his affections to your lips. His attempt to take a kiss is stopped short violently by a fist slamming into his nose. He falls backwards off the side of the bed with an undignified yelp, curling up on the floor for an agonizing moment to hold his face as blood rushes between his fingers.

"W-What the hell... Aren't you...?"

"GO TO HELL YOU UGLY FREAK!!!" The panic you feel is pushed down, rage swallowing it entirely. The alpha on the floor quickly backs up as you get to your feet, fists clenched and shaking in fury.

"But I claimed you...! You can't-"

"I don't give a shit what you did! Did you seriously think I'd tolerate you touching me?! Get the hell OUT!!!!!" You scream loud enough to make your voice hoarse in your already aching throat, grabbing anything you can to hurl at him. Pillows and plastic cups chase him out as he scrambles back to the door, muttering a promise to visit again once you're in a better mood. A pillow smacks into the door with alarming force in the spot where his head had been just a split second earlier. As for the idea of you ever being in any mood that would make you tolerate being in his presence...

Fat chance of that.

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hees-mine · 6 months

Text

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟖 𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫! - 𝐋.𝐡𝐬

𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 ⚥ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: smut, unprotected sex, angst, dirty talk, cursing.

You had just gotten off stage after giving your thank you speech for winning your first-ever award for best female artist. “Great job, y/n. I’m so proud of you,” your manager heeseung smiles and claps for you. Once you arrive backstage, there’s a whole group of staff behind him clapping for you and giving you a thumbs-up as he engulfs you in a hug.

“Thank you,” you say shyly and hug him back. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He leans back, waving you off. “Nonsense this,” he points to the trophy in your hand. “Is all you”

“Thank you for everything,” you say, nearly on the verge of tears.

“Of course,” he smiles. “I’m your manager. I got you.” he pats you on the back for all your hard work before letting you go get your makeup removed.

The staff had cleared out, leaving you and heeseung alone in the dressing room.

You stared blankly at the trophy, millions of thoughts going through your head, but the one that rang the loudest was that your hard work and dedication were finally rewarded. “Hey,” heeseung comes up behind you, hands softly resting on your shoulders. “How about I take you to dinner, and we’ll celebrate?” you look up, seeing his reflection in the mirror from your vanity, and you have to look away before you blush.

“O-okay.” At your approval, he simply nods and smooths over your uncovered shoulders, rubbing his warm palms against your skin.

“You can get anything you want tonight.” his words linger in the air, and you’re not sure if they had a double meaning given the change of his tone or if your mind was just in the dumpster.

You merely smile it off as he continues on massaging your neck and shoulders. “Proud of you.” his gaze locks with yours in the mirror, but this time, you don’t look away, and he bends down, soft pink lips testing the waters and grazing the exposed part of your neck, your eyes fluttering shut a small gasp escaped you at the contact once he sees your positive reaction he goes slower letting his lips linger a bit longer before licking from your shoulder to the bottom of your earlobe. “So proud of you,” his warm breath fans against your hot skin. “Tonight is all about you.” he swivels your chair around your knees, lightly grazing his, and within seconds, he’s on his knees, hands on your thighs rubbing softly as he looks up at your flushed cheeks and expectant eyes waiting for you to tell him what you want.

“Manager, I don’t think this is the best ida”

“Shhh, just let go allow yourself to enjoy pleasure for once. You deserve it after all your hard work.” you take in his words, but you’re still not sure cause he’s your manager. Things could get weird, and you didn’t want that happening because he was your safe space, someone you confided in without hesitation. And after this, you’re not sure if you could be the same with him, especially cause you already liked him for years.

“I can’t.” you slowly grab his hands, taking them from their place on your thighs.

“Y/n, I like you. I know you like me too, so what’s the matter?” He yet again places his hands on your thighs.

“W-what? How did you- you like me too?” He smiles at your stuttering, and you are in shock he actually likes you, too. That information alone was better than any award.

“You’re so obvious, baby,” he smirks, slowly slipping his hands under your pretty white dress. “I thought I was, too, but I guess not.” he leaned in, kissing your now-exposed thigh. “So what do you say? We may not be able to be together, but for tonight, I’m yours.” he looks between both your eyes, waiting for your reply.

“And I’m yours,” you whisper, and he lifts your dress-up lips, instantly meeting the inside of your soft thighs, softly kissing each one until it isn’t quite soft anymore, and he begins sucking marks onto the flesh that only he gets to see.

“Heeseung,” his name rolls off your tongue and floats in the air. You place one hand on the arm of your chair and tangle the other in his hair.

Your soft moans make him smile against your skin, and you don’t have any time to react before his head gets lost under your dress, and seconds later, you feel his tongue lapping at your pussy through the thin cotton panties you are wearing.

Your hands find his shoulders, attempting to stabilize yourself as the pleasure intensifies with each wet, warm stroke of his tongue.

He hums, tasting your arousal through your underwear, and it tastes so fucking good that his dick twitches under his jeans.

His hands knead on your plushy thighs while he buries his face in your soaking cunt. “Up,” he says from underneath your dress, and you lift your hips while he easily pulls down your panties and hikes your dress up around your waist.

Revealing your pretty flower-like pussy. “You’re beautiful everywhere, baby.” his compliment takes away any shyness before you even get a chance to feel it.

“You’re staring,” you giggle, and he lowers his head in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” he says cutely, but his demeanor changes within a second, and the soft moment disappears as he flattens his tongue, licking a stripe from your clit to your navel, and just that has your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

Getting lost in the taste of you, his eyes fall shut, tongue skimming your clit and slithering between every wet fold as you arch up into his mouth, searching for more.

Hooking his arms underneath your legs, he propped you up in your chair and spread your legs open so he could eat you out properly. “Comfy?” A nod is all you can muster when he looks so breathtakingly beautiful on his knees for you.

His heartbeat turns erratic when he sees you all opened up and pretty. He can’t believe after years, he’s finally able to do what he’s been dreaming of, and without wasting another moment, he dives into your ocean, his tongue swimming through the endless waves of your wetness.

“Oh fuck” you breathe out the moment the warmth of his wet mouth comes in contact with your cunt again.

He sticks his thick tongue inside, stroking your walls, his nose bumping your sensitive clit with every movement.

Kneading your thighs, he drags you closer to his face, pushing his tongue deeper inside, and he swears it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

Shallow breaths fill up the changing room air mixed with the lewd slurping sounds he makes between your legs.

He lightly bobs his head teasing your clit with the tip of his nose, knowing that’ll it’ll drive you insane. “Hee!” He moans into your core as you desperately cry out his name, your uneven breath and flushed face urging him to go rougher, and you can’t help but buck your hips and ride his face the closer you get.

He gulps down drip after drip of your wetness, savoring every last drop of you and memorizing every little detail of you, like the way you grip his hair when he sucks your clit or when you ride his face when the pleasure becomes too much for you he loved it all.

“Heeseung, I’m gonna cum” Your legs involuntarily clamp shut, but he forces you open and tongue fucks your pussy till you let go and cum around his tongue with a loud whimper of his name rolling off your tongue.

Humming against your heat, he slows his pace rubbing your thighs and soothing you down from your high while he sucks all your juices until you’re all clean.

“Hee,” you say breathlessly as he lowers your legs and stands tall above you, quickly discarding his shirt and dropping his pants and underwear to his feet.

Your eyes are glued to the sight between his legs and it’s hard not to clench around nothing when you see his thick girthy cock staring back at you and the tip shiny with precum. “You want to take a pic?” He smirks, noticing your naughty gaze.

You bite your lip, beckoning him closer with your index finger. “Now, why would I waste time when I have the real thing right here?” You chuckle softly, taking his huge cock into your palm, coating his length in precum.

“Can’t argue with that” he swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, a faint taste of your cum hitting his tastebuds, and he involuntarily twitched in your hand. “Fuck” he breathes out, slowly fucking his cock into your fist.

An embarrassing amount of arousal drops from your hole when you feel his shaft pulsating in your hands, and you can’t wait another second to feel him inside, so you position yourself on your lower back and spread your legs on the arms of the chair guiding his hard cock to your entrance slipping him between your swollen wet folds.

“Baby,” he whispers, placing his hands on the backs of your legs, taking over and rubbing his length against you, his tip teasing your entrance every so softly.

“Please,” moaning softly, you place your hands on his hips.

Without another second passing, he bends his knees and pushes forward, his thick cock head seeping into your opening, prompting you both to sigh in pleasure.

“So wet, baby,” he says before his mouth falls open to release a heavy breath the instant, he sinks deeper into your welcoming heat.

“Heeseung,” you squeeze his waist brows, drawing together as a few quick pants leave your trembling figure.

“Look at it, baby, look at you creaming on my cock” he quickens his thrusts blowing a few hairs away from his face as he finds a steady rhythm to fuck into you.

Your eyes travel between your legs, watching as you coat his cock in all your cream as you listen to the soft wet sounds each time he withdraws, only to push back in deeper you can’t help but whine in pleasure.

“Your pussy feels so” he can’t even finish before he moans softly at your silky walls covering his length. “Feels so g-good.”

“Faster heeseung, please,” he doesn’t respond cause he knows he’d barely be able to get his words out with you wrapped around him so tightly.

The loud sounds of his hips meeting the backs of your thighs sound out throughout the changing room, along with his heavy breaths and your pleasured moans.

Placing his hands on the side of your chair, he pulls out till his tip is right at your entrance, and with one rough slam of his hips, he’s buried balls deep in your squelching pussy.

“Fuck!” You scream, eyes rolling back in your head while he fucks you rough and deep, hitting your sweet spot with every move.

“So fucking tight shit” his grip on the chair tightens so hard his knuckles turn white. “Fuck baby, I’m already close.”

“Me too hee fuck!” Little squeak-like moans bounce off the walls of the changing room and you’re not far behind him with the way he's stroking your spot perfectly each time.

As soon as you attempt to fondle your clit he immediately replaces your hand with his own. “Let me do that for you” The moment you feel his thumb circling your clit. You can’t help but clench around him, legs shaking rhythmically as your mouth forms an o. The only sounds spilling from your lips are moans of ecstasy from your approaching high.

“So big can feel you so deep, Seung.” you paw at his abdomen helplessly as he pounds into you, his tip kissing your cervix every single time.

“Yeah? You like it deep, baby?” He nestled inside you, staying still so you could feel him twitch in the deepest part of you, and your eyes rolled dramatically.

“Yes, hee fuck me deep” Your nails leave pink makes all over his stomach, and he groans seconds away from spilling his load in your swollen soppy cunt.

“Gonna fuck my cum deep into your tight little pussy, baby,” he exhaled a deep breath through his nose, rubbing your clit in tight, fast circles. “You want it?”

“Yes, Seung, p-please.” Your voice is so whiny your moans could be mistaken for cries, but you feel absolutely nothing but pleasure, your sounds turning him on even more.

“Yeah? You want it?” He moans the words out, too lost in pleasure, and you rapidly nod your head. “I’m cumming!” He announced, followed by breathy moans. The feeling of his cum staining your walls makes you come undone around him, pulsing and milking his cock for more seed.

“Me too, h-hee.” The tighter you clench, the louder he moans, and thank god you two were alone cause if anyone heard, they would know exactly what’s happening behind the door of the changing room, and you’d probably both get fired.

“Yes, baby cum on my dick just like that” he slows his pace to a slower sensual one as the sensitivity starts to increase with every stroke.

“Hee,” you moan, completely out of breath while he whines your name over and over again, riding out your highs together.

The room falls silent save for the few stray sounds of pleasure you both let out.

He regains some of his strength, picking you up from your chair and carrying you to the couch, still buried inside your warmth as he lays back and you rest on his chest.

After a few moments of laying in each other's arms, you can’t help the sad feeling creeping up in your chest.

You look up at him, smiling softly as you peck his lips with tears in your eyes. “Oh baby, what’s wrong?” He cups your cheek in his large hand.

“I -just know this the last ti-“

“Don’t think about that right now, okay?” he pats your head softly. "let's just enjoy our time for now."

But the look on your face tells him that’s impossible for you, and it is for him too, as his eyes mirror your teary ones, but he says something that will hopefully reassure you that everything will be okay for the two of you. “Don’t worry, baby, we still have to celebrate, so it’s not goodbye just yet,” he smiles while stroking your cheek. You can’t help but smile, feeling comforted by his words. “Besides, I’ll always be your manager, and you’ll always be my idol.”

Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback.

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astroboots · 6 months

Text

Heatwave

CO-WRITTEN WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Summary: Santiago and you try to occupy yourselves during another heatwave in Florida.

Rating: Explicit, edging, bratty-ass behavior from one Santiago.

Pairing: Santiago x female reader (you)

Word Count: 4,000

Homecoming Universe | Astroboot’s Masterlist | Thirstworldproblemss' masterlist

At what point does a spiking high temperature no longer count as a heatwave and just becomes the new average temperature for the local area. Is it after the third or sixth heatwave in a month? And for that matter, how many record breaking high temperatures can one summer have in store for a state that is already known for its hot climate?

Fuck! Why did he move back here again?

Santiago is melting. Lying slumped against the cool flooring of the bedroom where the breeze reaches. He's stripped off his clothes, wearing nothing but his boxers and staying far away from any walls because they are fucking radiating heat. At one point he's pretty sure he saw the edges of the walls wobble from the inferno temperature raging outside... either that or his vision is blurring out on him.

It must be what? 150 degrees, 200?? He doesn't care what the weatherman is reporting, there's no fucking way it's only 110 out there.

Leaning his head back down on the cold wooden flooring for reprieve, he can't remember the last time Florida got so hot. (If it has, he hasn't been here to see it).

Shit, it must be even hotter than that time you drove him down to the airport, what was it now, ten or twelve years ago? It got so fucking hot that the radio was warning about staying away from the highway because the tarmac was at risk of melting.

No one in their right mind would've gone out on the road that day. Except you of course. In your shitty little Volvo, with a broken A/C and a clutch that creaked with every change of gear. It's lucky the old piece of junk made it to the airport at all, and nothing short of a miracle that you made it there in time.

He can still see it in his mind's eye. The way your hair was matted with sweat as you pulled up to the drop off point. Still remembers how his old t-shirt was glued to every inch of his sweaty back as he peeled himself off the passenger seat. How, even as disgusting as the two of you felt, drenched in sweat and smelling like two dumpster diving raccoons, having been trapped on the highway for over an hour in that heat, you had held onto his torso as if you were never going to let him go. Your pinkie wrapped around his, so tightly, he was sure the blood circulation was entirely cut off as you told him in no uncertain terms: "You better fucking come back home in one piece, Santiago."

A smile breaks out across his face at the memory. From a distance he can hear the familiar sound of your footfall from the hallway, followed by your voice echoing all the way upstairs as you call out for him.

"Santiagoooo!"

If it wasn't for the heat, he'd call back in response to you. But all the strength is zapped out of him. Plus, he suspects that the reason you're calling for him is to rope him into helping Frankie with the latest crazy home project the man's set on finishing this weekend (and in this heat Santiago's not going anywhere near that).

"Honey." The endearing nickname has him smiling even wider. His mouth parts, just about to respond to you when he hears the rest of your sentence.

"Frankie needs help sanding down the fence."

Bingo.

No way in hell he's responding now.

He can hear you opening and closing doors all over the house in search of him. You'll find him eventually, but it doesn't mean he's not going to take his time enjoying the last few moments of being in the safe shelter out of the sun.

There's a soft click as the door to the bedroom opens. From his limited view on the floor, he sees glimpses of your feet from the corner of his eyes as you march in front of him until you're standing above, looming over his form.

"Santiago. I was looking for you everywhere."

He lets the hand resting on his thigh slide down to the front of his boxers without thought and that catches your immediate attention.

There's a sharp and sudden inhale from you, as if the air is spiked. You look like you've forgotten how to breathe properly.

You liked that huh? The corner of his lips curl into a smile as he holds eye contact with you.

"Sorry, must've dozed off."

"Har, har. Stop lounging around half naked and acting like a thirst trap. Frankie needs help with the fence."

"It's 200 fucking degrees. I'm not going to do that. Frankie can finish his home improvement project when Armageddon isn't happening outside."

You shoot him a small frown. Arms crossing in front of your chest.

He pats the space on the floor right next to himself, as he continues. “Come lay down with me for a second to cool down. You look like you might be overheating. Don’t wanna get heatstroke or anything. Frankie can wait a few minutes.”

You don't move from the spot, making no move to join him. "Poor Frankie is doing all the work."

Santiago's itching to retort that there's nothing "poor" about Frankie's situation. Man is having the time of his life out there. He loves doing these projects.

But Santiago keeps his mouth shut. Because he knows if he doesn't, he'll inevitable set you two up for a back and forth of who's right and wrong, who wins and who's losing the argument, trying to one-up each other the rest of the afternoon. And it's not that Santiago doesn't absolutely love doing that with you but...

Peering up at you, the way your lips are swollen with heat and parted as you look at him, Santiago has a much better idea of how he wants to spend the rest of the afternoon with you.

"Just a little bit, sweetheart," he says, doing his best to sweet talk you as he pats his free hand over the same spot on the floor in invitation. "Come sit with me for one minute, and I promise I'll go help Frankie okay?"

Glancing over your shoulder, you throw a quick glance over the window, probably to check in on Frankie.

"Just a minute, okay?"

"Mhmm. Just one."

It doesn't take more persuasion from him than that. Next thing he knows, you're walking over to him. Soft steps and an even softer gaze in your eyes. Then you sink down on the floor and sit down on the spot right where he patted.

That was... surprisingly easy.

He'd expected more resistance from you. Was fully prepared to do a filibuster marathon to try to convince you to join him. Hadn't quite expected you to just... give into him the way you just did. He blinks up in surprise, at your face mere inches away from him. He's not fully sure what just happened. You've never turned down an opportunity to put up a fight with him before.

You stare down at his chest and bare stomach, lingering there. You swallow down reflexively as you take him in with heated eyes.

Huh...

Santiago knows the effect he has on women. He just never knew he had that effect on you.

As arrogant as it sounds, he knows he's a good looking man. Knows that he's charming to boot. But the relationship between the two of you, for all the love that you had held for each other, had always remained platonic back in the day. You don't look at him the way other women do. And Santiago doesn't flirt with you the way he does with other women. Those were the unspoken rules you two had set for each other from the start and it's all you two have ever known.

And while things have changed now. While Santiago's seen the heated looks you give him when he's in bed with you, your relationship has remained largely unchanged outside of it.

You still pull him up on his bullshit when he's earned it. Never hesitate to square up with him in a competition for anything.

This... This is new.

He taps his bare thigh, almost experimentally to test his theory. He doesn't miss the way your pupils dilate with interest, and as always he can't resist the urge to goad you.

Not when you're eyeing him so appreciatively, in a way that you've never done in the past in all your years of friendships until recently. He figures he's earned the right after all this time to be a little bit obnoxious and revel and preen in the attention from you.

"Cariño," he calls out, until your eyes pulls back up to his face. "Eyes up here," he teases.

You roll your eyes, smacking him in the chest. It's supposedly a playful gesture, but you do it with enough strength that it knocks the breath out of him.

"I know," you retort, but your eyes drift back to his chest and then continue downwards and the attention has heat spearing through his limbs.

"You're still looking," he teases, and his hand snakes down over the plane of his thighs, reveling in your attentive gaze. "Didn't know you were such a perv."

By now you'd usually retaliate or cuss him out, but you don't.

Instead, you continue to stare, eyes blown wide as if you've been cast under a spell, mesmerized.

He palms himself through the front of his boxers, and he can feel the rush of blood rushing down and away from his head as his cock stirs to hardness. If Santiago was considered full of himself before this, it's nothing compared to how he feels in this moment with the way you're looking at him. Your expression blank, like the sight of him has made you lose your ability to speak. Mouth parted, the glistening pink of your tongue peeking out, as if you would devour him if he'd let you.

"Should I give you a show then?" he asks.

After all, if you want to look, he's more than happy to give you something proper to look at.

You nod with an eagerness that has your head bouncing up and down like the bopping bobble head toy Frankie keeps on the dashboard. Santiago lets out a laugh that's more breathless than he had expected from himself. He blames it on the heat.

Dragging down the edge of his boxers, he keeps his eyes on yours as his fingers wrap around the base of himself and his cock jumps in response to the touch.

Shit, that's good. A sweet spike of pleasure runs through him at the languid touch, and he feels breathless with it. His cock is slick with precome that drips down the length with each slide of his hand.

Running his hand up the rigid length, the calloused skin graze against the sensitive skin. Pleasure ooze and drips inside his chest and down his limbs, until his legs tremble with it. Santiago's touched himself countless times before but it's never felt like this before.

Maybe it's the heat that's getting to him. Or maybe it's the way you're inching closer with each passing second until you're practically straddling him on his lap. You and your soft and perfect thighs pressing down on his own, keeping him pinned onto the floor as he tries to keep going. The heat he can feel from between your legs, through the thin layer of cotton that's pressed onto his bare skin. Yeah... maybe it's that.

Santiago goes slow and languid as he touches himself for your benefit. And as ridiculous as it sounds it is for you. Because if it wasn't for you, there's no chance in hell he'd be going this slowly. He'd be fast and almost sloppy, squeezing down on his cock until the desperate need that's riding his spine lets go with his climax. If you weren't here, gorgeous eyes all focused on him, with a look that he wouldn't even let himself dream of in the past, he wouldn't want to prolong it the way he is.

Even now, with the strained effort of taking it as slow as he can possibly stand, he's not entirely sure how long he'll last. He feels like he's on a precarious edge, his climax taunting him, swelling up and simmering with a slow burn in his stomach.

Your torso tilts forward, squirming in his lap, with the tiniest movement every time his hand moves upwards, in time with his strokes.

You're practically riding his thigh, and Jesus fucking christ, that isn't helping Santiago's situation right now. At this point you're both going to come dry humping each other like horny clueless Mormons on their wedding night.

"Sweetheart, wait--" he tries, but you press yourself down on his thigh all the same, and he can feel your sweet slick drip down on his thigh and coat him with it. All he's capable of is a deep and shameless moan.

His cock twitches in his hand, and for several alarming seconds, Santiago thinks that's it. That it's already too late and he's going to come right then and there, spilling himself all over his hand and stomach.

Santiago squeezes down hard around the base of his cock to stave off the needy sensation.

"Shit," he hisses. "Fuck. fuck. Sweetheart, gonna need you to--" he doesn't finish his sentence. Can't spare the seconds it would take to properly think. One hand is already reaching out under your dress (thank god you're wearing a dress) wedging your panties to the side, his other pulling you closer by your waist until your pussy is lined up with the swollen head of his cock.

He doesn't even have time to move his hand in place to grip at his cock before you push down on him. Heat streaks through his insides until his lungs feels like they're burning. Your perfect pussy envelops all of him, every single throbbing aching inch with slick warmth and perfect pressure until his vision whites out.

Fuck, why is he so fucking sensitive.

He can't... fuck, he can't hold on. A desperate groan tears out of his throat and he buries his face into your neck to hide from the sensation that has him surrounded.

He thrusts upwards, canting his hips until you're taking all of him.

Pleasure singes his entire spine, and it burns him alive with it. The heat is unbearable, sweat is plastered to his back, but it doesn't matter. Santiago's skin is damp and sticky, but he's still pressing you closer. Wants every inch of you, warm and gorgeous and so fucking soft, pressed against him in every way he can have you, and he's still not sure if that'd be enough.

Wants to make up for every year, hour, minute and second that he'd wasted of his life, being away from you. Wants all of that even if it kills him.

Planting his feet on the wooden floor for leverage, he grabs your hips to force you down as far as you can take him. Until your head throws back with a high-pitched whine, palms pushing down on his chest as if it's too much for you to handle, and he lets go, sinking down his hips back towards the floor, until only the tip of him rests inside you.

He gives you a handful of seconds to catch your breath. Then he grabs your waist and push you down on his cock. Again, and again. To the gorgeous sounds of your keen moans and whines all blended into one, as you're sobbing out his name.

Forceful, deep thrusts that has tears pushing in the corner of your eyes. He keeps going as the sweet aching heat has him drunk and euphoric on you, with each and every rise and cant of his hips.

He's not going to last. Shit, shit, he's not going to last like this.

But that's okay. Because judging from the way you're grinding against him. Needy and desperate. Your cunt squeezing so tight around his cock it makes it hard to breathe, you're not going to last either.

His hand strays down below your stomach, sliding between your legs until his thumb catches at your clit, slippery and wet, and absolutely dripping for him. You sob at the contact, wracked in shivers as he continues to rub smooth little circles over it, and he can feel just how close you are.

You're perfect. Eyes squeezed shut, head tilted back in surrender, a high-pitched whine escaping your throat and oh fuck Santiago was not prepared for this.

His brain stalls out, hand stopping as his movements comes to a still to take in the sight before him because...You are so fucking beautiful like this.

"Santiago, what the fuck, make me—" you're slapping his shoulder, voice high pitched and desperate that makes his spine tingle as you grind on him. "Fuck make me cum, don't be an ass."

Fuck what is he doing?

Santiago's not sure. Not sure why he's stopped, even as every nerve and muscle in him is screaming for him to chase after the pleasure until both of you are coming.

Not sure why he's just sitting there dumbfounded. Except, this is everything he's wanted for so long that he's denied himself and he realizes that right now— it's here, landed in his very lap. You're the woman he's loved for so long, no matter how much he's denied it to himself, and he just wants to make this moment last.

All he knows is that he doesn't want this to end.

"Wait, sweetheart," he murmurs, even as you squirm from his grip pinning you in place. "Just give me a second. Want to remember this," and he means it with more sincerity than he ever thought he had left in him as he stares up at you in complete awe.

He wants it to last.

Not just out of a ill-placed sense of pride. Not just because he knows you're going to give him shit for coming too fast.

He just wants this to last. Wants you in his arms like this. Wants you to look at him, just like this, like you need him to survive, more than your next breath. This. This. This. He wants it to last forever.

You don't listen to him though. Of course you don't, because you never make it that easy for him. Your hips roll against him, grinding with desperation until his cock nudges something devastatingly perfect that has him convinced his brain is melting.

Shit, he has to stop. Oh fuck oh fuck, he's too close—

"Stop stop," he warns, hand gripping down on your hips to stop you "Boa, Stop— fuck you're gonna make me—"

But it's too late. It's already happening. He can feel his cock pulse and throb as he spills himself inside of you, shuddering through his orgasm— and fuck this was not how it was supposed to go down.

Everything slows. It's everywhere, rushing through him with a chaotic frenzy as it wrings him dry. The euphoric sensation overcrowding everything else, and his head feels like he is going to split with it. He can't think. Can't breathe.

But even in his post-cum haze he knows you still haven't come and he can't have that.

Santiago grits through it. Biting down and clenching on his jaw to ride through the over-brimming sensation that threatens to burst out of his skin as he continues to thrust into you.

Oversensitive and overstimulated. Every slick slide of your perfect pussy has him gasping for air. It's too much. Like live wires are running through his skin and every cant of your hips against him sets every receptor in his brain on overdrive. His cock is so sensitive, he can feel every fraction of you wrapped around him.

And it's perfect and it's good. And it's just so fucking much.

You're burning hot. He feels feverish and on the brink of delirium from the heat. Like he's inside a live furnace, but he doesn't want to stop. Can't stop. Not until he's seen your eyes roll into the back of your head. Not until you've come apart for him.

Locking his arm over the small of your back, he flips you over, onto your back. Pushing his free hand between your bodies until his thumb is rubbing rough little circles on your clit again.

He keeps going, pushing inside even as every nerve at him is screaming for respite. Santiago doesn't stop though. You're so close, and he just has to hold on even as each flutter and squeeze of your cunt is pushing him over the edge of too much.

Doesn't stop even as your gorgeous eyelashes flutter dramatically, your eyes rolling back as you kick your leg out and finally, finally comes on his cock.

The sensation of your climax punches the last breath out of him. He can hear himself whine pathetically into your neck.

The overwhelming tightness of you, your pussy squeezing and clenching down over and over, as if you're trying to wring and empty him out of anything he has left him. It brings him to his knees and collapses into you.

Everything feels sticky and clammy. Both of you drenched, as he's pinning you down with his weight. He feels weightless and heavy all at the same time. It doesn't make sense and shouldn't even be possible. But it certainly didn't help him in his efforts to move

To the protest of his exhausted limbs, Santiago rolls over to lay on his back next to you there on the floor. Both of you sweaty and panting.

God this might have been a bad idea.

It was too fucking hot even before all the physical exertion, now it's like an inferno. He's seconds from passing out. But at least the floor is marginally cooler against his back than the surrounding air, while you're laying there catching their breath.

Every inch of him thrums with pleasure, and his body practically tingles with the afterglow of his climax. But he can't help the scowl on his face. He's mentally cringing.

He came too fast.

Shot his load like some overeager virgin.

And there's no fucking way you wouldn't have noticed that he came before you. It's only a matter of you catching your breath, before you start giving him shit about it.

He lies there, staring up at the ceiling, preemptively trying to come up with some kind of defense or comeback but nothing comes to him. The only thing that fills his head is the image of your eyes from seconds ago, gazing down on him, looking at him the way that deep down, through all those years of platonic friendship, for all the way he's tried to repressed it, he's always wanted you to look at him.

It's so fucking stupid, but his stomach flutters pleasantly at the memory.

"Hey, Santiago...?"

He closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face trying desperately to pull himself together. Because even though he knows it's coming. Right now he feels too naked and raw, without protection to brace himself at whatever joke you're sure to make next at his expense.

Feels a little bit too exposed after that perfect moment of having everything he never let himself acknowledge that he wanted right there in his arms.

He swallows, bracing himself for the witty remark, as he responds to you with a weak, "Yeah?"

You don't say anything.

Instead, he feels just the barest touch against his hand, and he looks down. Your fingers slides against the heel of his hand, searching for his hand before you find his pinkie and curl around it. He drags his eyes back towards your face and you have the softest smile on your sweaty, gorgeous face.

"I'm glad you're here," you say, there's no sarcasm there. Your voice is soft and quiet, and so sincere.

He doesn't know what is happening to him but his chest constricts and is drawn so tight it's painful. And suddenly he's blinking back tears. Call him dramatic, but for a brief moment Santiago swears the chest pains are a sign of cardiac arrest, until you grip his pinkie tighter and the pain eases.

"Yeah...." Santiago nods. Has to clear his throat before he can get the rest of the words out from the lump that is lodged in his throat. "Yeah, me too. Sweetheart. Me too."

Sweat sticks to his back, and the heat is unbearable. But he doesn't want to move. Doesn't ever want to leave this spot with you lying next to him.

He'll never admit it out loud. But he knows why even though he hates Florida with every inch of his soul, he'll always find his way back here. Why no matter how far away he goes, a part of him will always be left behind here. A long long time ago in the drop off zone of Miami International, on a disgusting hot and sweaty day just like today, he made a promise. He promised that he'll always came back home to you.

Dedication & Credits: To my dearest @thirstworldproiblemss who came up with that DEVASTATING concept of the pinkie holding post-sex.

Follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#oscar isaac #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fanfiction #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago x reader x frankie morales #frankie morales #pedro pascal

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queenimmadolla · 6 months

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Hey hun, Ive got a horrible chest cold AND im on my period at the same time, so as you can imagine I feel like a dumpster shit fire right now. If its possible could you do a little drabble where Eddie is nursing a sick reader. If not i totally understand I know youve got a lot on your plate atm. Thanks hun, love ya ❤️

happy to drop everything to nurse one of our own back to health 🫡. hope this helps make you feel better!

“I’m dying.” You whined from the mounds of blankets you were surrounded by, with a pathetic sniffle.

“You’re not dying.” Eddie refuted, as he measured out your medicine, pouring the bitter syrupy liquid into the cap you’d have to throw back. He was also trying to hide his grin.

It’s not that Eddie liked it when you were sick, but now that the two of you lived together—in a crappy one bedroom apartment that was the best thing in the world because it was yours—he could nurse you back to health, take care of you. And if you just so happened to be extra cuddly whenever you were sick, that was just a plus.

It was domestic.

Eddie loved living with you, even if you left all the bottom cabinet doors open whenever you retrieved something and he’d bust his knee against them, loved that you were the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes in the morning and the last thing he glimpsed before falling asleep. Loved brushing his teeth in the mirror with you at his side doing the same thing, loved how he had a five minute window to convince you it was a good idea for the two of you to just stay home together instead of parting to go out into the world. Most of all, he loved being able to look up from whatever he was doing, be it planning out future Hellfire sessions or working on a new song or even catching up on his reading, to see you curled into the loveseat, or in the kitchen, hear you humming as you walked down the hall.

Existing around him.

Co-existing with you was something Eddie wanted to do forever. If this was married life, Eddie would be on his knee the second you felt better.

“I’m dying.” You reaffirmed, scowling when Eddie turned around and you caught sight of the yellow–never a good tasting color for medicine–liquid filled measuring cap in Eddie’s large grasp.

“You’re not dying on me, baby. I refuse to let that happen. Now, take your medicine so we can make sure it doesn’t.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, medicine held out to you.

Gingerly, you grasped it and when he reached for the orange juice on your side table, you switched up, “You know what? You’re right. I’m not dying. I feel better already.”

“Drink the medicine,” Eddie smirked, handing you the glass.

“But it’s Prescription.” Your frown deepened, tongue already assaulted by the idea of what it would taste like. Eddie had taken you to the doctor’s yesterday morning and picked up your prescription after so you’d had the pleasure of taking it three times already.

It was a nasty son of bitch.

“Which means you’ll get better faster. Drink.”

You gave him one last glare before downing the medicine like a shot. Your face contorted in disgust and Eddie chuckled as you hurried to take a drink of your orange juice to wash the taste away.

“That’s poison.” You croaked, handing Eddie the juice and empty medicine cup before settling back into your pillows with a pout just as an onslaught of coughs hit you, sending you into a fit you muffled against your inner elbow.

Eddie could hear your chest rattle with them and placed your medicine cup and glass down on the bedside table so he could rub your back.

Once your coughing fit had subsided, you took a couple of shaky breaths before glaring up at him again, “It didn’t work.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and nudged you over, much to your surprise. The bed was littered with your used tissues, some having been coughed into and others containing your snot. Not exactly the place to want to be.

“My poor, sweet, gross baby.” He cooed as he settled in behind you, pulling you right into his chest.

You ignored the gross comment and protested even though you were curling right into him, nose nuzzling against his hoodie covered collar bone, eager for his warmth. Of course you’d gotten sick just as winter settled.

“Eddie! You’re gonna get sick.” A pitiful argument considering you were already settled on him like a cat having found their new lounging spot.

“Oh, I know I am. Who cares? I slept next to you last night and woke up to a hill of your snotty tissues in my face so it’s already in my system. No use in denying myself the love of my life.” You felt his hand drift lower until he was patting your ass cheek. He wasn’t trying to start anything, it was just one of Eddie’s many love gestures. When he’d ask if he could squeeze your ass like it was some sort of stress ball to comfort him—that’s when he was going for it.

“It wouldn’t be in your system if you hadn’t insisted on still sleeping with me last night.” You reminded him and felt him shrug under you in response. You peaked up at him to see him relaxed, one arm propping his head up with the other holding you to him. His eyes were shut and a look of utter content was on his face. It was almost like he’d been the one to take the codeine.

“We didn’t move in together so I can avoid you, this is just some more experience for us. You deal with my morning breath, I deal with having our bed covered in germs when you’re sick.” His hand began to stroke up and down your back and your eyes fluttered shut, the codeine making quick work of your system.

“Why am I the one suffering in both of those scenarios?” You slurred out.

Eddie shook with laughter underneath you, “Shut up and go to sleep. I’ll make you some soup when you wake up, you jerk.”

You did fall asleep. And when you woke up, Eddie insisted on carrying you—because a chest cold apparently meant you couldn’t walk yourself anywhere—to the living room where you watched some television while he did his best to follow a recipe your mother had given him for a homemade soup she’d make whenever you were sick.

And three days later, when you’d made a full recovery, Eddie developed a rattling cough. The ring he’d hidden in a pair of his shoes would just have to wait until you nursed him back to health.

#eddie munson x reader #boyfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson blurb

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percheduphere · 4 months

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I'm kinda curious, especially since a lot of people have very different views on this: How do you think Loki and Mobius would be in an actual, official, romantic relationship? I kinda think they would keep doing what they're doing but I don't really know what level of romantic stuff they would do. They're already pretty physically affectionate, but would they do that in public since both of 'em are pretty secretive about their normal emotion? They compliment each other but would they use things like honey and dear in a serious way? Etc. So...How do you think this time couple would be like?

I adore this ask because all my headcanons about Loki and Mobius being in an established relationship are SOFT. The best part is, canon supports this.

While I do agree that Loki and Mobius's dynamic will continue the way it has been, I also think a certain level of emotional intensity will be brought into the mix, increasing their general chemistry in front of others ten-fold. The banter, the idea spit-balling, the lack of personal space, the smiles, laughs, and long gazes ... imagine all of that dialed up. Loki loves as hard as he hates and is a hedonistic show off. Mobius has loved Loki since Day 1 and repressed his feelings for long enough. Are they really going to be reserved around each other once they're securely in a relationship?

No! They will be the most sickeningly lovey-dovey couple in the MCU.

WORDS OF AFFIRMATION

S1 had Mobius advocating for and complimenting Loki in private and in front of others. S2 had Loki reciprocating. It is not hard to imagine them becoming fiercely protective of one another on and off the field. Cross one, the other is crossed. They are a two-package deal, and both are vicious when it comes to wielding words on behalf of the other's dignity.

As for terms of endearment, I can imagine Loki calling Mobius "Darling" on spare, particularly emotional occasions. Mobius, on the other hand, still has Don in him. "Sweetheart" and "Honey" are very in-character pet names he would use. Both reserve usage of these names in private as Loki hates blushing in front of others, though Mobius has a tendency to slip when he's multitasking at work.

PHYSICAL TOUCH

The hug in S1E5 seems to have opened the door for physical affection come S2E1. Loki and Mobius (especially Mobius) touch one another with affection, attentiveness, and protectiveness on instinct. Despite not being romantically involved in S2, they move around one another the way two lovers in a small kitchen might. Once in a relationship, they will continue to do this but certain gestures will hold more meaning, in particular: holding hands.

One of Mobius's first gestures of kindness, which Loki initial rejected, was a handshake in S1E1.

The second time Mobius offers his hand, Loki takes it and uses Mobius's compassion as an opportunity to steal the time twister from his pocket.

Mobius offers another handshake in S1E5, which Loki declines in favor of a heartfelt embrace that he extends to Mobius and Mobius happily accepts.

Physically (and symbolically), Loki and Mobius's relationship was founded on Mobius extending a hand and Loki refusing it, betraying it, and finally taking it. I therefore see them holding hands regularly, every day, because holding onto one another is grounding, comforting, and reminds them of these earlier moments in their relationship that they've overcome together.

As these two are not shy about tight embraces in public, I doubt either would feel shy about chaste kisses either. They are so in-sync and adoring of another that it goes without saying that when they have sex, they make love passionately. They communicate with touching just as much as words, so heteronormative "bottom and top" designations are thrown out the window and into the dumpster (where they belong). How they have sex conveys how they feel about one another in that specific moment.

PDA

Among others, I can see them being nauseatingly sweet. We already know what bystanders look like when they tease and bicker with one another:

And make no mistake that Loki would up the dramatics with PDA just to gross Thor out. Thor making a "barfing gesture" cracks Loki up every time, and Mobius, resigned, goes along with it because who doesn't want to get peppered with kisses?

QUALITY TIME

I haven't seen anyone point this out yet, but it's hilarious to me that S2E3 starts in broad daylight and cuts to evening by the time Loki and Mobius stroll out with cracker jacks in their hands.

Loki looks a little annoyed but he is going along with it for Mobius's sake. Sightseeing at the World's Fair makes Mobius happy, and whatever makes Mobius happy, Loki will indulge even if he's not interested. Like that key lime pie he didn't eat.

If this is their relationship when it's platonic, then be ready for Mobius to take date night very seriously.

Dinner and a night at the opera? Naturally.

Eating pastries and drinking coffee while people-watching in Paris? Absolutely.

Biking side-by-side along the Dutch Coastal Route in the Netherlands? Of course!

Mobius will take care of all the planning and Loki will enjoy sharing new experiences together. On (frequent) occasion, Mobius will surprise Loki by choosing an activity he knows Loki will enjoy, such as visiting an ancient library or perusing fine clothes at a bazaar.

Point being, these two have always enjoyed each other's company and have fun together. In a relationship, they will actively take time out of their schedule to bond more purposefully!

ACTS OF SERVICE

Both Loki and Mobius are strong when it comes to communicating love through acts of service. Where Mobius is a little higher on words of affirmation, I believe Loki is slightly higher here. Loki pays attention to Mobius's interests, habits, and creature comforts. He will commit to memory the exact way Mobius prefers his steaks, sandwiches, salads, and coffee prepared.

Mobius, for his part, will take care of things Loki doesn't like doing. Taking out the garbage? Done. Washing the car and filling it with gas? Did it while you were asleep. Filling out paperwork? Say no more.

Sadly, I don't think either of them have a talent for cooking. Loki grew up with palace servants. Mobius relied on the TVA cafeteria. They will attempt to conquer the kitchen together, but the end result is always either a fire or a flood. It's okay. Loki can name Mobius's top 5 take-out places off the top of his head.

GIFTS

Neither Loki nor Mobius strike me as big on gifts, but when they feel the sentiment, they give one another meaningful things that only they understand.

I think Mobius may be slightly more inclined for gift-giving. He knows what material objects mean most to Loki and why. Loki, meanwhile, might feel challenged in this area. Not for a lack of enthusiasm, mind, but because Mobius doesn't have many material desires beyond a jet ski. Loki would like to think he's more creative than getting Mobius a new one once a year.

In short, Loki and Mobius already engage in the 5 love languages. Being together will only strengthen what they do for one another, much to their friends' longsuffering annoyance.

#asks #loki #mobius #lokius #my headcanons #loki meta #my meta #loki analysis #my analysis

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in1-nutshell · 3 months

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Hello! First time requester and long time lurker! Just wanted to request a story for a opposite personality kid buddy with megatron (tfp) similar to the optimus and Ratchet ones you have done! They are my new favourite thing lol

Also would love some possible best uncle soundwave bits in it!

Its fun to see the Bots and Cons interact to their daughters with opposite personalities, but I saw this request and chose pain. Fair warning there may be tears or not.

Megatron is not going to have a fun time when he realizes that his daughter's personality is a little like someone he knows...

If this isn't what you wanted, please let me know!

Hope you enjoy!

Megatron with a daughter who has the opposite personality of his own

SFW, Angst, mention of injuries, Platonic, Famialil, Cybertronian reader (Buddy is a minicon)

TFP

Buddy was Megatron’s dumpster baby.

Literally.

Megatronus was out in one of the dirty alleys of Cybertron when he heard a noise coming from the piles of scrap.

He thought about ignoring it… but something told him to at least check it out.

There sticking out of the pile like a beacon of light was a tiny sparkling. Perhaps a minicon sparkling.

All alone dirty and crying.

Megatronus didn’t have the spark to leave them their alone and picked it up.

“Hello there little one.”--Megatronus

Sparkling stops crying and just looks at him with her big optics.

“Some one left you here? No surprised with how everyone is… What should I do with you?”--Megatronus

Sparkling grabs one of his digits.

“There is always the sparkling care unit…”--Megatronus

The sparkling yawing and curling into his servo to take a nap.

“…Great… I’ve gotten attached to it… but you can’t stay with me in the gladiator’s quarters just yet. Too small for your own good. But there is someone who can help.”--Megatronus

Orion opening up the door to his habsuite revealing Megatronus holding a small sleeping sparkling in one servo.

“…Megatronus… please tell me you didn’t kidnap this sparkling.”—Orion

“What! No!”--Megatronus

The two mechs created a plan.

Orion would watch her while Megatronus was at work and the Megatronus would come by and pick her up during the free times he was now given with the rising status as a gladiator.

Orion in the meantime would house and help feed her. There would be times where he had to take her to work, but no one seemed to mind.

The sparkling was quiet and to top it off had become increasingly interested in some of the data pads in Iacon.

“Orion? What do you have there?”—Alpha Trion

Orion holding Buddy in one servo and an energon cube in the other.

“An energon cube?”--Orion

“Pax you know what I mean…”—Alpha Trion

It was a bit rough at first, but they made it work.

Buddy was her given designation after her friendly nature around bots.

Megatronus didn’t mind it at all.

Soon enough Megatronus started introducing some of the gladiators to Buddy, though he wasn’t quite ready to have her move in with him. It still was no place for Buddy.

Out of all the gladiators Buddy got to meet, she clearly had a favorite.

Soundwave.

Having already a small team of minicons with him, Buddy was easily welcomed into the group.

Some even made jokes about Buddy being Soundwave’s kid too.

Soundwave loved Buddy’s light.

He swore an oath to protect her.

During the first meeting.

“Buddy, this is one of my closest friends, Soundwave.”--Megatron

Buddy from behind Megatronus’s pede peeping out.

“Go on, just like we talked about.”--Megatronus

Buddy slowly walks up to Soundwave.

“Hello! My designation is Buddy! I like blue, red, and purple. You’re purple, I like you.”--Buddy

Soundwave internally promising to offline anyone who harms the little one.

Orion soon introduced the sparkling to Ratchet.

Ratchet loved seeing the little sparkling around he thought it was Orion’s sparkling for a while.

Until he saw the clear favoritism the sparkling had when she saw Megatron.

Ratchet watching Buddy speeding over to Hug Megatronnus’s pede.

“Wait she’s not yours?”--Ratchet

“No? What made you think of that?”--Orion

Ratchet remembering the number of times he ‘s seen Buddy sleep over at Orion’s place, go to ‘work’ in the archives, near identical friendliness.

“…No reason… but… did he kidnap her by any chance?”--Ratchet

“Ratchet!... Well, I thought that too, but no!”--Orion

Then the debates with the Senate began.

Megatronus felt so betrayed by Orion’s words he stormed off, enraged.

So filled with hatred and betrayal, he almost forgot that Buddy was with him.

There was no way that he was going to let Buddy anywhere near that traitor again.

“Where’s Uncle Orion?”--Buddy

“We are not seeing him again.”--Megatronus

“What!? Why?!”--Buddy

“He has done something unforgivable. I will not have him influence you.”--Megatronus

“What did he do?”--Buddy

“…He betrayed me. He is no longer your ‘uncle’, Soundwave is your only ‘uncle’.”--Megatronus

“Can… Can at least say ‘good-bye’?”--Buddy

“Life doesn’t let you say ‘good-bye’ Buddy. Learn from that.”--Megatronus

“But—”--Buddy

“NO!”--Megatron

“…okay…”--Buddy

Then the war started.

Megatron made sure that Buddy was going to be always stuck to his side.

Other times it would be with Soundwave.

As Buddy grew up in the dark corridors of the Nemesis, she decided to pick up on basic patch work.

Maybe do something to fix her father.

She had been told hundreds of times that her uncle Orion, now Optimus Prime, had started the war.

He was the cause of all this destruction, of all this death.

Buddy believed it for a while.

But as she got older the more, she would begin to hear more unfiltered pieces from the Autobots. More things from their side.

She knew that the truth wasn’t going to be pretty by any means… but she just wanted to know what happened to her sweet uncle Orion.

Megatron soon began to be haunted by the ghost of his former brother in the shape of his own sparkling.

Their personalities were scarily similar.

Too similar.

Megatron tried to change this in his own way.

He began training Buddy to fight, but this didn’t help too much.

Buddy frame shaking from exhaustion.

“Get up! We can not have the Future Leader of the Decepticon’s kneel on the floor!”--Megatron

“Megatronus—”--Buddy

Megatron looking at Buddy, for a split-second seeing Orion in her place.

“…Can I please have a break? We’ve been at this for more than 2 hours.”--Buddy

“No.”--Megatron

“But—”--Buddy

“I said no!”--Megatron

“Megatronus—”--Buddy

“I SAID ‘NO’! WHY CAN’T YOU LISTEN TO ME, ORION!”--Megatron

“… Megatron… Its me Buddy, Orion is not here.”--Buddy

“… 5 minute break then we are going back to training.”--megatron

Even if she was a minicon, Megatron treated her like any other soldier.

He began sowing the seeds of the future into her helm. About leading the Decepticons if anything were to happen to him.

He had subconsciously placed a near unbearable weight upon his daughter’s shoulders.

She did talk to her Uncle Soundwave about this.

“What is he thinking Soundwave? Me? The future Leader of the Decepticons? Yeah right, like Starscream or some of the others would take orders from a lowly minicon like me.”--Buddy

“You—Have—Soundwave.”--Soundwave

“I know that, but why… just why…”--Buddy

Buddy started to sniffle, Soundwave wrapping his arm around Buddy as she buries her helm into his side.

“Why… why…”—Buddy

“You—have—Soundwave—everything—is—going—to be—fine.”—Soundwave

“… I miss your voice sometimes Soundwave. I know you wont because of the oath… but I do miss it.”--Buddy

“…”—Soundwave

Soundwave just holds Buddy closer.

Soundwave grew a bit more protective of Buddy seeing as not many minicons could survive on their own for long.

He should know…

Sometimes he’ll have Lazerbeak watch her or keep her company when he is unavailable.

Then Megatron disappeared.

Buddy never felt so much pressure or sense of guilt in her life.

As Megatron’s successor she automatically assumed control as Leader of the Decepticons.

Soundwave always by her side as was Starscream.

Soundwave never let Buddy alone with Starscream under any circumstance.

Starscream did find some insult in this but understood. He was constantly trying to overthrow Megatron, even going with murderous attempts.

But even he had some standards as to not killing the kid… yet.

Buddy did attempt to contact the Autobots while in command to talk, but all attempts never reached them. She wanted to make some peace negotiations before any more energon could be spilled.

All her hard work went down the drain when Megatron came back.

“Megatron! Meagtron you’re back!”--Buddy

Buddy going in for a hug, but Megatron moving aside completely missing Buddy’s hug.

“Megatron?”--Buddy

“How have the troops been?”--Megatron

“Everything is good, just as you left them. But shouldn’t we get you to Knockout? Just to make sure that everything is okay with your systems.”--Buddy

“No.”--Megatron

“Megatron, its highly—”--Buddy

“I’m sorry did you just speak back? You are no longer the Leader of the Decepticons anymore, learn your place.”--Megatron

Every Decepticon within hearing distance optics going wide.

“…Right, my apologizes… Lord Megatron.”--Buddy

“Better. Now get ready for our sparring session. You’ve grown soft and we cannot have that.”--Megatron

Things only got worse between them after the reunion, after he plunged the dark energon into his chassis.

Megatron seemed more and more obsessed with Prime. He nearly ignored more and more of his duties as Leader. Buddy, Soundwave and Starscream had to pick up after him.

The sparring was getting more and more intense.

Many of the Vechicons had reported to Soundwave or Breakdown to get down and stop the sparing matches because of the screaming they keep on hearing. It sounded more and more like a torture session than sparring session.

Knockout organizing his wax bottles when Breakdown and a Vechicon come in. Buddy in the Vechicons arms near limp.

“What happened!?”--Knockout

“Take a guess.”--Breakdown

Vechicon placing Buddy on the med slab.

“Thank you, Steve…”--Buddy

“Commander Buddy—”--Steve

“Don’t call me that okay. We’ve talked about this Steve. It’s just Buddy. No titles, no nothing, just Buddy.”--Buddy

“Okay… Buddy.”--Steve

“Okay Steve you can resume your duties, thanks for the help.”--Breakdown

“Of course, Breakdown. Bye Buddy.”--Steve

Buddy trying to wave back but wincing.

Knockout is already getting his tools out.

“Training, I’m guessing.”--Knockout

“Yes…”--Buddy

Silence in the med bay as Knockout finishes up the patch work.

“Megatron is lucky this time it looked worse than what it was. He needs to be more careful… we only have so many minicon parts right now…”--Knockout

“It’ll be all right Knockout.”--Buddy

“And how do you know?”--Breakdown

“Hope. Cause that’s all we have right now. Hope and a whole bunch of ammo.”--Buddy

“Heh. Guess you’re right about the ammo part.”--Breakdown

“Yeah!”--Buddy

“And… your done! Now don’t go and ruin that finish missy!”--Knockout

“Or what? Its not like Optimus Prime is going to ruin it.”--Buddy

#transformers #transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp megatron #tfp soundwave

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unfriedough · 10 months

Note

Hello! Fem reader and Zuko?

- Reader had a scary experience during the day and when night reaches she asks Zuko to spend the night with her

- Zuko says something like “Alright, i’ll stay with you” he’s all awkward standing watching her

- Reader is something like “I can’t feel safe if you’re not close to me, Zuko, please”

- His knees nearly give way and he feels a blush creep up his neck slowly

- He finally gives into his temptation and snuggles up to reader, wrapping his entire arms around reader waist and neck

- Reader sighs in comfort, whispers a quick thank you, places a soft kiss on Zuko’s wrist and they just sleep (No devils tango!)

‘Bandits’- Zuko x female!reader

Masterlist <3

An: Summer is already almost over?? WHY??? Anyways, THIS REQUEST WAS LIKE SUPER DUPER CUTE AND the brackets u added at the end were so cute idek why 😭

Summary:

You get attacked whilst out and about, but maybe it was for the better.

Warnings: half of this is Zuko admiring you LOL, violence.

Zuko was the best fire lord, you think. Perhaps you were a little bias, but letting you stay in the palace rocked. Apart from visiting your hometown, you didn’t exactly have a plan for after the war. You bounced around a little, and then, a golden offer came. Zuko wanted your assistance with royal matters, you’d be the royal advisor. The title was already enough for you to be on board, but it also offered you a place to stay for a while. You just couldn’t pass that up, and hey, maybe since he’s been at this for a few months, the workload would lessen.

You were none the wiser.

You see, his life was nothing but a dumpster fire. From meetings to paperwork to arguments to rebellions to assassins to training and so on so forth, his life was a mess of schedules and poorly planned breaks.

The fire lord confided to you a lot about this, the absolute look of despair on his face as he entered another meeting, or the slow steps from the weight of his armour. He would rest his head on your lap in the library, and whilst you read the latest addition of your favourite book, he dozed off into a 15 minute nap. It was the perfect crime. They couldn’t yell at you, he was asleep right there, and they couldn’t yell at him, he was the ruler.

On a particular day, Zuko suddenly opened the door of your room, which he intentionally planted right by his.

“YN!”

“ZUKO! HASN’T ANYONE EVER TAUGHT YOU TO KNOCK?”

“Uh-“ he flushed immediately, “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking straight,”

“What brings you to my quarters, your majesty,” you rolled your eyes, adjusting yourself in the mirror on your vanity.

The boy stuck his tongue out at you, “I don’t have anything to do today let’s go out,”

“In this weather? Are you insane?” It was the prime of summer in the fire nation, death by heat stroke at the mere thought of going outside.

“You’ll live,” he mumbled, walking out.

Begrudgingly, you got up, stretching as you picked out the lightest outfit.

The sun burned the top of your head, you groaned, realising you forgot your hat. Zuko offered you his. He was always like that with you. So chivalrous, and yet, so childish.

“M’lady,” he bowed as he passed the large hat to you, moving to grab his spare. He kept it loosely around his belt.

“That seems excessive, but thanks,” intrigued were you, why was there another hat there?

“Maybe, but you literally always forget yours,”

“Cute,” he blushed, “But what kinda belt just has a hat hook?”

“I had it tailor made,” he played with his fingers, this clearly embarrassed him.

You were stunned to silence. Zuko tailor made a belt for me.

“Dork.”

You heaved heavily as you finally reached the market. See, the former prince had no intention of visiting the popularised shops, he opted for the small town one west of the castle. He tipped his hat lower, and you pushed your sunglasses up higher on the bridge of your nose.

“Wow you’re so different and not like other guys,” you mumbled.

“What do you mean?”

“This place looks abandoned,”

“Give it a shot, the stuff they sell is actually nice,”

“Zuko,”

“You’re so close minded, trust me for once,” he looked off to the side, where a few suspicious men were grinning at you two, he grinned to mask his worry, “Just stick close to me and we’ll be fine,”

“If I die I’ll kill you,”

“I’ll take you up on that,”

Despite your ‘friends that work together’ relationship, sometimes you felt he was being a little touchy. Especially around another man, he’d make sure there was distance between you two and him. You chalked it up to this place being shady.

“Just go I’ll be fine,” just as humans do, Zuko really needed the bathroom. Of course, you couldn’t exactly join him, gendered bathrooms are a thing, so you told him you'll just wait in the nearby stores.

“Don’t talk to anyone don’t look at anyone don’t buy anything-“

“You’re not my dad Zuko, chill,” you pushed him lightly, he rolled his eyes and left to do his business.

You were humming quietly when a woman tapped your shoulder. She wore a mask which concealed most of her features, and had a hat almost as big as yours on.

“Hello,”

‘Don’t talk to strangers’ you replayed. You pretended not to understand. You tilted your head to the side, shrugging animatedly.

“Are you a foreigner?” You continued the ‘deer in headlights’ act, and that’s when your eyes finally landed on her left arm. It rested in her pocket, and seemed to be flexed. A funny feeling rose in your stomach.

“Guys, she’s a foreigner,” she yelled out behind her, a few men and women coming up. There were about 4 or 5.

Your eyes kept snapping to the bathroom, willing Zuko to sense the situation. You were severely outnumbered, and judging by the looks of the people in the back, there were for sure a few benders. You thought to use your own powers, but due to the extensive work you perform, you rarely had time to train.

“Just give me your money and we’ll let you go princess,” one of the boys mumbled, coming up to threaten you.

You furrowed your brows, still pretending to be confused. You thought to pretend you were oblivious might actually help. You smiled brightly, turning around and buying a small souvenir for the man. You grinned as you passed it to him, a weirded-out look crossing his barely showing features.

“Is she stupid?” He peered forward into your open wallet, showcasing no money. Zuko was the fire lord. Why would you need anything aside from loose change?

“Probably, look at her, she’s dressed like a tourist,”

“That necklace looks expensive,” a woman remarked, nearing you inquisitively.

“Ah you’re right,” the leader smiled, leaning closer to you, she signed with her hand a necklace around her neck, pointing at yours afterwards, “Nice necklace, where buy?” She dumbed her words down.

You took it off, silently panicking as you removed Zuko’s handmade pendant. It was a gold encrusted heart locket, and inside was a tiny mix of your nation and his’ shades, making a gorgeous concoction. It was a thank you for joining him. The metal that crafted it seemed dainty, but was strong and durable.

You used it to your advantage.

As the mystery lady’s eyes lit up at the sight of it, you spun her around, placing the jewellery on her neck, restricting her airway.

“Nobody move,” you scowled, looking around.

The woman signalled with her hand for them to stay still. She then turned around quickly, using her pocket knife to gnaw at the metal. It didn’t work, but it did leave a few nasty scratches on it. She used the same blade to attempt to cut you, but you dodged, pushing her to the ground under you. You stood in a standstill.

“You’re not a foreigner,” she mumbled.

“You’re trying to rob me,” you narrated.

“Doesn’t take a genius,” some guy yelled. Most tellers hid at this point.

“Just give me the necklace, and all will be good,”

She pounced, pushing you into a pole. Another woman restricted your arms behind it. She walked up to you again, grabbing the jewellery harshly. Using her knife, she guided your chin to look at her.

“Tell me, how much did you buy this for,”

“It’s handmade,” you frowned, wincing as she dug the knife further into your neck, not quite breaking skin.

“It’ll pawn for a pretty penny,” a man rasped, getting closer. Both the bandits were now right in your face.

Thankfully, legs are good for kicking. You sent them both back flying, twisting around to free yourself from the other lady. During the process, your hat fell and sunglasses followed.

“She works with the fire lord, RUN!” As you tried to locate the lady, they scrambled away. You were left without a necklace, and with hurried steps.

You ran up to the stalls, talking to the nearest man.

“Hey!”

“Women’s bathrooms are over there,”

“Cool I need the men’s,”

“You’re not allowed in there,” he looked concerned.

“I know, I’m looking for a man about this tall, wearing a ridiculous hat.”

“Oh, is that him?”

“Hey YN, where’d your hat go?”

“Let’s go home,” you tugged on his hand.

“But you said you wanted to get food?”

“I’m not hungry anymore,”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Whatever you say…”

He continued to try to probe for more information, and you continued to shut him right back down.

When you finally got home and got changed, you were dunked right into another meeting. You sat next to Zuko, resting your head on your palm. Your non dominant hand rose to fidget with the necklace, only to be faced with the intense heartache that its absence brought forth. You sighed.

After what felt like an eternity and a half, the general- admiral(?), whoever, finished his speech and let you all excuse yourself. You matched your friend’s pace.

“Where’d your necklace go?”

You frowned, “probably at some pawn shop by now,”

“Okay ouch,” he furrowed his brows.

“I didn’t sell it,”

“Huh?” You reached your quarters, the moon dominating the dark sky. You pushed your door open.

“I was robbed earlier- at the market,” your feet guided you in, and towards your closet.

“Wait what? Is that why you wanted to leave? Why didn’t you tell me-“

“Zuko there was nothing you could do.” Pyjamas placed on the bed, you flopped on the mattress next to them.

“I could’ve had them imprisoned. I could’ve protected you,” he seemed hurt.

That angered you. You got up suddenly.

“I’m not some damsel in distress Zuko,”

“That’s not what I meant!” He stuttered.

“Oh yeah? Then what did you mean?”

“I just-“

“Forget it.” You pushed him out of the room, locking the door.

He knocked harshly. “Hey! You can’t just do that!”

“Why not?”

“B-BECAUSE?”

The soldiers and staff in the hallway tried to conceal their laughs, they really did, but seeing the fire lord begging his advisor who he’s totally not in love with to open the door was the funniest thing ever. Especially since he was so flustered.

“Yn please,”

“I’m changing don’t be weird,”

“When you’re done,” he rolled his eyes, resting his head against the door.

He practically fell on top of you when you opened it again.

His breath caught in his throat. Seeing you look so peaceful made him feel things. The way your face was illuminated by the dull- almost dead- candle you refused to replace. And how it made your eyes sparkle. And how yo-

“Zuko?”

“Sorry, lost in thought,” he flustered.

“It's okay,”

You stepped back, and he entered your room. It was decorated beautifully, much better than his room, Zuko never quite had the eye for design. And oh, it reeked of you. How the sheets were slightly dishevelled, the curtains weren’t quite closed all the way, the carpet had imprints of where your slippers were, and how all the decorative pillows were strung around the floor, your favourite ones still finding home on your bed.

“Sorry it’s kind of a mess,”

A mess? Surely this was an art piece. A painting of your room should be displayed in a museum.

Maybe you were a little more than his adviser. Just a little though. You sunk into the sheets, covering yourself in the warmth of a weighted blanket.

“Sooooo,” he dragged.

“Yeah Zuko, I got jumped.”

“I don’t understand,”

“What don’t you understand, I was attacked, and since I had basically no money, they took my necklace,”

“Oh,”

“Yeah,”

He paused. “Well are you okay?” He’d notice you looking out of your window frequently, and paranoidly checking your room and halls before entering.

“I’m fine,” you lied, for you were scared. Scared of being pinned with a knife to your neck, with the wrong move being the invitation to your funeral.

He tilted his head.

“Fine I lied. I'm not Fine Zuko,”

He smiled softly, a look of pity on his face. You got up out of bed, going near the window. The boy followed.

Again, your hand went up to play with your necklace.

Zuko kissed his lips. “What happened to you really sucks,”

“I really liked that necklace,”

“I’m not talking about the necklace Yn,” he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into an embrace, “You were attacked, why're you trying to brush that away?”

You resisted tears, reluctantly replying, “If I think about it too much, it’s like I’m there all over again.” You refused to meet his eyes, until a gentle hand guided your face back to his.

“Yeah, but you can’t just suppress it. You’re safe here, I’m with you,” despite the words being just that, words, they comforted you.

Your eyes were locked with him, bodies intertwined. He hardly clocked in what he was doing, until you pulled away. You crossed your arms, putting distance between you and him.

“I should probably get going- it’s late,”

“Do you have to?” And all his resolve faded, how could he say no?

“I-I mean. I-“

“If you don’t want to it’s okay I just-“

“No I get it it’s j-“ you continued to cut eachother off.

“It’s up to you,” you concluded.

“I’ll stay if it helps you,”

“It does,”

“Alright, I’ll stay here. I’ll be here.” He stayed next to the window while you sunk into the bed.

You hummed as the cool pillow kissed your skin.

Still, you couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling in your stomach. You put a hand on your chest, eyes snapping to where Zuko is to both make sure he was there and that he was asleep. The fire lord was slumped on your desk chair, head falling back.

“You okay?” He asked.

You gasped, not aware he was awake in the first place.

“I’m fine,”

“Then why are you breathing so heavily?”

“Is a girl not allowed to breathe anymore?” He laughed, not because it was funny. Well, everything’s funny when it’s past 12.

“No seriously what’s up?”

“I just don’t feel safe, even if you’re in the room,” you sat up, pulling the other side of the blanket away to show the empty bed.

If your light was burning, you’d see the bright red that burned Zuko’s face, and no, it wasn’t his scar. The thought of being in a bed with you, that close. It shocked him to his core. He knew he was kind of an idiot in the love department, if it was a job, he’d be fired. But what he did know is that he’d stumble on his words and forget how to speak if he got into the bed.

“Please?” You gave him that smile, and how his knees almost buckled below him just at the sight of it, how could he resist?

A different colour of blush gnawed carefully at his neck, tinting the already present one a darker shade of red.

“Yeah okay,” stiffly, he joined you under the sheets. Engraving the image of you next to him, nightwear making you look like a movie he’d spend eternity watching. He clenched his jaw, trying to stay focused.

Again, all efforts simply ditched him as you laid your head on his chest. You used your arms to guide his around your waist, the other your lips. You gave him the gentle-est of pecks, almost just a touch, on his wrist, resting it against your cheeks. The spot burned with warmth, a trail of goosebumps exploring the rest of his arms.

“Thank you Zuko,” but it wasn’t just a thank you Zuko. See, maybe he was delusional, but something was different.

Maybe it was the way you were looking at him, if you gave him those eyes more frequently, he’d bend to your every will. The sweet smile you dawned pushing against his arm, he wished it would leave a mould, a mark, anything, to remember this moment.

Gently, you put his hand onto your neck, and sighed. As you drifted off into a safe, sound slumber, Zuko wondered what it would take for it to all happen again.

An: I love him sm ydu

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